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Dull

Administrator — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 15:56:39 +0000

It was a cool gray, November afternoon. I was walking
down the quiet, suburban street I lived on, on the way to
Gloria’s house. It was fairly windy, a gust whipped up and I
had to reach down to hold my skirt. I suppose my modesty
wasn’t really in jeopardy but the skirt was considerably
shorter than what I was accustomed to wearing.
Gloria had asked me to assist her with a party she was
throwing for Dave’s boss. He had just started a new job she
really wanted to impress him. Part of his new
responsibilities included entertaining customers. She was
going to hire several college girls to serve food and drinks
but she suggested that maybe I would want to help and in
return she would forget the $65.00 I had borrowed earlier
that month. I readily agreed, the party sounded like fun.
Gloria thought about renting maids uniforms for us but
decided against it, she then asked us to all wear matching
skirts and blouses.
She had called me earlier in the week and told me that
mine was almost ready, I had gone over to her place to try
the skirt on. I was uncomfortable with how short it was but
she laughed it off, reminding me that I was about 20 years
behind the times. I didn’t want to appear too prudish, I
didn’t know any of these people and wouldn’t be the only
one dressed like this, besides it was no worse than what many
other women were wearing these days; so I agreed to wear it.
I had to admit the outfit didn’t look too bad on me, a red
and black checked skirt, white blouse, red scarf, black high
heels and suntan panty hose. It may have looked all right
but it wasn’t designed to protect me from the November gusts
I shivered and hurried along the sidewalk.
Gloria met me at the door, she laughed and asked me if it
was going to snow. We stood on the porch and discussed the
overcast weather for a moment, until she noticed me
shivering. We stepped inside to begin preparations for the
evening. Gloria was busy on the phone so I did most of the
straightening up, setting up the buffet, etc. About 5:00, a
pretty young girl came to the door wearing the same outfit I
was in. We introduced each other; Paula was to help me
serve. She seemed nice, pert, maybe a little impertinent but
friendly enough and I had to admit in that outfit with her
figure, she looked smashing. She told me she was a 19 year
old student at a nearby JC. I said goodbye to Pete and
Chris, Gloria’s kids, 16 and 14 respectively. They were
going to their own party that night, so they wouldn’t be
disturbed by ours. They were actually the reason for my
friendship with Gloria; Chris was my daughter Karen’s best
friend. And Pete was Karen’s boyfriend. He had always
scared me, I thought he might be too “mature” for her, but
what could I do?
Gloria came down about 7:30. Dave had just gotten home
and the guests had just started arriving. Mostly couples,
mid twenties to early forties, they were quite well dressed.
There were about 25 people in all, including Paula and I. I
was introduced to most of the guests and was flattered by the
interest all took in me although a little uncomfortable. The
women were less friendly, maybe even condescending. It seems
that Gloria had mentioned something about me to most of them.
I was involved in putting away the guests’ coats and serving
drinks. At one point I walked by the kitchen and heard
Gloria on the phone. Something caught my attention and I
froze, listening to the conversation……”36 years old,
married, 3 kids, 5′6″, 120lbs, green eyes, brown hair, has no
idea what’s going on. This bitch has never even thought
about anyone other than her husband.”
At that the party on the other end must have said
something, for Gloria was silent. I was dumbfounded, she
couldn’t be talking about me??
About this time she looked up and noticed me standing
there. She looked startled but recovered well, “what are you
doing? Dammit Joan this is personal I’d appreciate it
if”……..I turned and went back into the living room; the
incident seemed strange but I really didn’t think it was
important, I could confront her later. I didn’t think she
really had been talking about me.
I went into the living room, it was quite large, with a
fireplace in the center. They had used furniture to divide
it into two “rooms”; a family room and a more formal living
room. I went to the buffet table set up in the ajoining
dining room and started helping Paula serve. Occasionally
one of us would carry around a tray of drinks. I began to
feel slightly uncomfortable, out of place. There was an air
of excitement in the room but whenever I got near enough to a
group to hear or join in the conversation it seemed to die;
sudden pauses, pregnant silences etc. This happened several
times and I was wondering what was going on. Paula seemed to
fit right in though. When she brought around a tray I saw
her laughing with the main group. One of the men put his
arm around in a manner that suggested they had not just met.
Several of them including Paula looked over in my direction
as if appraising me, then Paula returned and offered to
relieve me for a while. This went on until about 9:30.
Dave came over and took my arm, “there’s someone I want
you to meet”. He introduced me to Craig, his boss, and Phil,
Gloria’s brother. Both men seemed seriously interested in my
life, my family, job etc. and were really probing me for
details. This seemed strange too but a welcome relief from
the alienation I had been feeling up to this point. I took a
glass of wine and began to loosen up.
About half an hour later Gloria gathered all the guests
back into the living room, saying “it’s time folks”.
Everyone seemed quite excited at this and I wondered, “what
in the world”………I was on my 2nd glass of wine, (I never
drink), and slightly lightheaded. Phil gently took it out of
my hands, took my arm firmly and guided me to the living
room. The chairs and couches had been rearranged in a semi
circle in front of the fireplace. In the center a long low
coffee table had been placed. The guests were seated or
standing around the table. Phil guided me to the front, I
was confused but held his arm. Gloria stood in front of the
table facing everyone.
“This is something I have been looking forward to for a
while. Joan has been interested in Indian rights for some
time. She doesn’t know it but tonight she is going to help
collect money for the cause”. There was a general outbreak of
laughter at that. I decided that I would prefer to be
standing in the back and started to move but found my arms
suddenly grabbed. I froze. “Bring her up here”, Gloria
commanded. Paula and Jan (a friend of mine from Garden Club)
each took one arm and pulled me up on the coffee table, I
resisted but not too hard, not knowing what was coming. I
was turned so that I faced the group, my arms still held, and
my hair wrapped around Paula’s hand, she forced my head so I
had to face the group.
Gloria smiled at me and told me to relax, “this won’t be
too bad we’re just going to auction off some clothing”. The
room erupted with laughter. I was numb, too shocked to
scream. Gloria stood next to the table “what do I hear for
her scarf?”; some one offered $1.00, another $2.00, the
bidding went up to $5.00. At that time Gloria accepted the
bid, and reached for me, ripping the scarf from around my
neck. I screamed, a hand was clamped around my face. The
scarf was forced into my mouth filling it completely and with
my arms held I couldn’t get it out. People started to sit
down, they all appeared to know what was going to happen.
“Next up, her blouse”. There was some cursory bidding,
Gloria backed up close to the table, I saw the opportunity
and tried to kick her. That was a mistake. Phil and Craig
grabbed both legs. They each took hold of an ankle. In
addition they rubbed their hands up and down my thighs and up
under my skirt, much to the amusement of the other guests. I
was sobbing in my humiliation but there was no escape.
After a little more bidding my blouse was removed. Phil
won the bidding and took it off himself. They bent me over a
little so that his face was level with mine. He reached out
and ripped my blouse down the front, he jerked my arms out, I
tried to cover up but Jan twisted my arm until I gagged. I
relaxed and they straightened me back up. I was held there,
up on the table with just my bra on. I went blank for a
moment, the only other man who had ever seen me like this was
Tom……… I never in my worst dreams imagined this could
ever happen. Paula fingered a gold chain I was wearing. It
had a diamond pendant. Tom had given it to me for our 12th
wedding anniversary. It was sold for $5.00. It was ripped
off my neck, the chain breaking at the clasp, and ripping my
neck. Gloria told Paula to hold up my ring finger so my
wedding band could be examined, “she won’t be needing that
tonight”. It went for a few dollars. I was still kind of in
shock, I was sobbing but was still unbelieving. These things
really don’t happen. Again Gloria stepped up. She reached
out and snapped the strap on my bra. “What do I hear for
this fine Maiden Form Brassiere?”…. The other guests all
laughed at her sarcasm, they talked among themselves but most
of the attention was riveted on me. The bidding went on. My
bra was sold for $20.00. Gloria didn’t make any move to
remove it though, I was shaking like a leaf, what next?
“Whoever correctly guesses what size this item of clothing is
shall have the privilege of removing it, however an incorrect
guess costs $5.00″. She reached back and looked at the tag
and laughed, “not bad, who’s your plastic surgeon?”. I was
turned and poked by several guys “so they could have a
fightin’ chance of guessing right”. Several people tried
guessing, on the third guess Steve’s wife Marie said 36D, and
Gloria smiled….”we have a winner”. Marie “graciously
allowed” Steve to remove the bra. He took his time. He
poked, rubbed and fondled me to the delight of the crowd for
about five minutes. I had lost control by then, sobbing
hysterically. Finally He removed it, and his hands.
I had noticed earlier that several people had brought
camera’s with them, now it appeared that everyone had. I was
turned and twisted to pose for these people, my hair
practically ripped out of my head to force me to look into
the cameras. Paula reached down, still holding one arm and
ripped my skirt up to my waist, flashbulbs popped. They
didn’t bother with the formality of auctioning my skirt, it
disappeared in a frenzy. I passed out.
When I awoke I was spreadeagled on my back on the coffee
table, feet tied, each to a leg, arms held back over my head
by Paula and Jan, and was surrounded by the guests, Gloria
was slapping my face. When I opened my eyes she smiled
“she’s ready now” Craig was standing at my feet. His wife
ritualistically unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down.
She caressed his penis but it was throbbing, he didn’t need
much help. When he entered me it was rough. I screamed into
the gag and everyone broke into hysterical laughter. Craig
even stopped and smiled, but not for long. He had
intercourse with me more roughly than I ever imagined
possible. Each stroke seemed to burn itself into my insides.
I looked up once into his eyes and saw a terrible fury there.
When he was done He pulled out and stood up, He moved to the
head of the table and stood over me his penis dripping into
my face. He put one foot on the table next to my face and
motioned Paula and Jan to pose on either side of him like a
champion race car driver being congratulated after a victory
while his wife took several snapshots. They also each put a
leg up on the table, their nyloned legs flanking him as
Marion took the shots. I tried to cover up, Jan grabbed an
arm and I was jerked back into a helpless position. After
Craig, the other men began taking turns on me. They blanked
into one another I was only semi-aware when one was done and
another started.
Again I blacked out. I was thinking about Tom and Karen
my 14 year old, (and Pete’s girlfriend). I imagined myself
with them on the beach during our last vacation. I was warm
and comfortable. In my dream I was warm and comfortable, I
thought I saw my son coming towards me with a cold coke. He
threatened to pour it on me.
I awoke with a start to look up into Steve’s face as he
rubbed a cold bottle of beer against my crotch. Things were
quieter, the lights had been turned off in this end of the
room, there were several candles lit. I was no longer gagged
nor held down. Steve helped untie my ankles and his wife
Marie gently guided me to a couch. I noticed that most of
the guests were gone, there were several couples sitting at
the other end of the room talking with Gloria and Dave but
they paid us no attention. Marie helped me gather my shoes,
panty hose, bra and what was left of my blouse. My panties
were nowhere to be found. I put on my panty hose and with
Marie’s help my shoes and skirt. Steve was still holding my
blouse and bra. Gloria noticed something and walked down to
our end of the room. “Steve let me help you with that stuff,
It’s not fit for Joan to wear anymore so let’s just chuck
it”. With that Steve frowned but handed her the clothing and
she tossed it into the fireplace where it disappearred in a
temporary resurgence of the dying fire.
Marie and Steve both looked a little sympathetic, they
sat on the couch on either side of me. They were both quite
gentle, and after the last hours I clung to that. The room
was warm but I was still shaking uncontrollably. Steve held
me to stop my shaking. For the first time I could remember I
stopped sobbing. I didn’t resist when Steve cupped one
breast. He was gentle and I felt a little safer being held.
Marie spoke up. “I saved your wedding ring for you, want it
back? Of course, …. listen though Steve has a fantasy
about this, would you be willing to help him live it? It’s a
lot easier than what you’ve already been through tonight”. I
nodded agreement silently. I knew I had no choice and I was
more comfortable here than I would have been if Gloria
noticed me again. And they were so kind, I wanted to
preserve that desparately.
Steve reached for my hand and held it while Marie slipped
the ring on my ring finger. Steve unzipped his pants and
motioned for me to pull his member out. I hesitated but when
Marie started to move I reached for it. I took it out, It
was hard almost immediately. Marie guided me to the floor in
front of Steve where I knelt. She pushed my Face down into
his crotch and I understood I was to take it in my mouth. I
gagged but did it. After a few moments she pulled my head
back and told me that if I wanted to I could just use my hand
but I would have to let him come in my face. Dumbly I
cooperated. I was in a kind of shock. Everytime I tried to
use my right hand she stopped me, I was to only use my left.
When he came he spurted in my face and on my hand which went
up to protect my eyes. He came a lot, it was warm and felt
smooth against my skin.
Flashbulbs popped. I looked left and there were Paula
and Gloria both recording this moment for posterity. Me
topless, on my knees, Steve’s cock in my face and cum
dripping off my face and hand (later I was to learn that it
was dripping off my ring, that was the object of the
exercise). When Steve finished cumming, Marie wiped his cock
off with my other hand and replaced it in his pants. They
both got up as if I wasn’t even there and joined the other
group. I heard a long burst of hysterical laughter. Gloria
spoke up as they left. “Get on your feet and bring us some
wine, and see if anyone wants any dessert.” I complied, it
didn’t seem like there was anything else to do at the time.
It was about 2:00 AM by then. I served dessert and a
little wine to the remaining guests. I was directed to again
remove my skirt and kneel on the floor under the lamp where
they could all see me, until I was needed. I complied. I
tried not to look into anyones’ eyes, I was sobbing again but
afraid of making too much noise. At one point Gloria got up
and threw my skirt into the fire, she also grabbed the arm
that I was using to cover my breasts and jerked away. “Don’t
you dare cover up”. After that they mostly ignored me in the
conversation but would occasionally give me a look of disgust
to insure I was aware of my condition.
For awhile I knelt there, leaning back fully exposing my
breasts to avoid Gloria’s wrath. I was thinking back through
my entire relationship with Gloria and Dave. I had never
seen anything remotely comparing to their treatment of me
tonight. I had felt that Gloria was occasionally
unnecessarily snippish with me, even rude, but she had always
seemed to be a fairly reliable friend. I had confided in her
about marital problems etc. and she in me. Her cruelty
shocked me as did her blatant enjoyment of my subjugation. I
thought about Jan. She had always been a good friend. She
was what men call a doll, small, excellent figure, pretty
face, dark complexion, attracted men like flies but seemed to
ignore them.
Tonight she was acting extremely provocative, enjoying
egging the men on, and directing their energies towards me.
She also enjoyed my subjugation. I never even imagined that
she could act like this.
About 3:30 Paula got up to leave and Gloria told me to
help her with her coat. Standing there in the hallway Paula
smiled and cruelly told me that “I have really enjoyed the
evening, haven’t you?” She laughed and told me that she had
made a deal with Gloria, and I was the deal. I would be
hearing from her later in the week, and if I valued my family
I would cooperate. She pulled my necklace out of her pocket
and told me she would get it fixed. Maybe I could borrow it
sometime….with that she stepped out the door and I was left
alone in the hallway. Dave came out and guided me to the
basement, he pointed to a pile of blankets and said Gloria
would be down in the morning. I heard that door shut and the
lock click into place. Alone in the dark, I sobbed myself
through the night but didn’t sleep. I relived the experience
countless times. Was it real? Why? Why? Why? How could I
face the people I knew. How could I face Gloria and Dave,
and the others I knew I might see again?
About 12 hours later The door opened and the bright light
caused me to squint in pain. Gloria came down carrying some
clothing which she dumped at my feet. “Get up!! Joan I’m
not going to waste time with unnecessary threats. Suffice to
say that I have affidavits from everyone who was here last
night that you got drunk and made a fool of yourself. You
made passes at every man and when they were done you were
begging for more. I have pictures that would ruin your
marriage for ever. And finally if you don’t want me to
include Karen in our next Soiree, you will do as you are
told. I do require you to sign two papers and then I am
going to let you go. I know you won’t be stupid enough to
fight this but just in case.”
I looked at the papers. One said something to the effect
that I had agreed to “sell my body” for $65.00. I agreed to
serve as the entertainment at an “adult” party with the
understanding that providing sexual favors would be part of
the deal. She had me write my age, name, and measurements on
the form in my own handwriting. She also had me write that I
would gladly perform fellatio and have intercourse with
whosoever desired at this party. And that I understood that
although such an agreement was illegal it would suffice to
prove the voluntariness of any sexual activety. I managed to
maintain my composure and although I shook, I wrote what she
wanted. After I had written what she had originally ordered,
she smiled and said let’s improve this, “write that you are
married and you know Tom your husband would die if he knew
what you had done, so you asked your husband to leave you
alone for the weekend.” Finally she had me write a note to
Tom on the back of the contract. “Tom I decided to see what
the rest of the world was like. I enjoyed what the 11 guys
at that party did to me. Ask Gloria for some snapshots.” I
complied. Gloria told me she was sure that she would never
have to use this paper.
The other form was a model release which covered the
entire night. It specifically mentioned that the photos were
nude, I had posed voluntarily and that I assigned to Gloria
the rights to do what she desired with them including
publication. The total helplessness of the situation got to
me. I broke into tears. “Joan if you don’t sign this in
about 3 seconds you will lose the chance and I will have to
protect myself in a less genteel fashion”. I wasn’t sure
what she meant but decided that I had nothing to lose by
signing the forms. I did and she left. Strangely she looked
at me with almost friendliness in her eyes and said gently,
“Joan things have changed, but you’re going to be all right.
If you continue to do what you’re told, we will take care of
you.” As she climbed the stairs out of the basement she left
the basement door open and opened the back door of her home.
I was looking directly outside.
I stepped out of the light and dressed. She had chosen
the clothes to humiliate me. There was no bra or panties,
the sweater was her daughters, and about 3 sizes too small.
The shoes were mine, the pantyhose mine (it had been washed)
but the skirt was again Chris’. In addition to being too
tight it was so short I was afraid to walk, if I took too
long a step I felt I would be exposing myself to the world.
But I did put it on and stepped out the door to freedom.
Walking down the street to my home I reflected on the
evening. And Gloria’s cryptic final remarks, she couldn’t
think she could do this to me again? I looked down at what I
was wearing and realized that she might be able to do what
she wanted. That was a chilling thought. I knew I could
never go to the police. There was a real possibility that
even if they believed my story, that Gloria could indeed ruin
my life and my families’. I passed by a moving van, people
were just moving into the home. Three guys stood on the
steps. I heard a loud whistle, and another. Realizing they
were for me I smiled involuntarily but stepped up my pace.
I felt embarrassed but flattered. I looked up into the
November sky. It was the deepest blue and the brightest
sunlight that I had seen in a long time…………….
I had spent the rest of that weekend in a daze. Saturday
afternoon when I got home, I immediately took off the clothes
Gloria had sent me away in, and threw them into the garbage
in the garage. I tried to sleep. Although I had not slept
in a day and a half, I was still to upset. I wandered around
the house, but couldn’t seem to sit down. About 6:30 I ran
some water for a bath. As I lay there I began to relax.
When I moved I realized how sore I was. I think it was than
that the shock wore off and the full import of what had
happened hit me. I had been raped, not just raped but gang-
raped. Not by strangers in some alley, but by friends, and
neighbors, less than two blocks from my home. Not knowing
where to turn, or what to do I moved from the tub to my bed
and eventually drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up Sunday I was still in kind of a funk. It
was a cold clear day and I forced myself to clean up around
the house, etc. in preparation for my families return from
Tom’s parents. I thought about friday night. That was the
first time I had had sex with anyone other than my husband.
I was ashamed to admit it but the worst part was the
humiliation. The sex with the men had been degrading but
………….. When Tom and the kids got there I tried to
act cheerful and welcome them back. Karen immediately stated
that she was going to run over to see Pete. I lost control.
I yelled at her, told her that she was not going anywhere.
Everyone stared at me, Karen looked shocked but said nothing.
Tom took me aside and asked me if I was allright. I said
yes, there was nothing wrong. He went over to Karen and told
her to wait until after dinner to leave. While she was gone
I was scared silly. What would she find out over there? I
did not know at the time if Pete or Chris knew what had
happened to me, it was so crazy I did not know what to think.
The next few days went slowly. Tom repeatedly asked me
what was wrong but I could not tell him. He could never
understand. I know I was acting strangely but could not help
myself. We tried to make love several times. Each time Tom
would try to approach me I kept thinking about that Friday
night. The one time we did make love I remember comparing
his lovemaking to Craig’s brutal intercourse. I didn’t enjoy
Tom that night at all. It was so cold so dispassionate, I
think Tom finally got the message. 10 days later, about 7:00
one night I came down stairs and heard people talking in the
living room. “What happened last weekend, she hasn’t been
the same since?” There was an edge on Tom’s voice when he
spoke. “She seemed all right Friday night when she left”.
That was Dave speaking, Gloria spoke up. “Steve and Marie
Daniels left with her, they were going to drop her off since
it was pretty late. I talked to Marie last week and she
didn’t mention anything”. “Why don’t we all get together
Saturday? Maybe she’s just depressed and a little get
together will cheer her up.” Tom agreed that that might be a
good idea. Gloria mentioned that she would try and invite a
few other people and would talk to Tom later in the week to
set it up. I realized that if someone saw me standing here
they would notice that I had been eavesdropping. I went on
down into the living room. Gloria and Dave were there with
Tom. Gloria smiled warmly and mentioned that since she
hadn’t heard from me in a while they thought they would stop
by. I mumbled hello, and sat next to Tom. We sat and talked
for about 45 minutes. Everything seemed so, so…normal.
After they left I wondered if that night had really happened.
I wanted to forget and they acted as if nothing had changed.
I tried to talk Tom out of going but he was adament.
Saturday morning came and I saw that I had no choice. I
pretended to be sick, and that was not far from the truth but
the kids were eager to leave and Tom seemed intent on
dragging me there. I put on some jeans and a blouse and
we left to walk over there. As we walked down the street I
took stock of my family. Tom was 36, a fairly successful
attorney and his practice was just beginning to come into its
own. After some hard years it looked like he was in the
process of becoming one of the most prominent local
attorneys. He was 5′10″, 175 lbs and stayed in great shape.
I was extremely proud of him. When I married him I had
misgivings. He was a wonderful person, extremely dependable
and I knew he could take care of me but he was a little to
staid, to damn dependable. I realized as I looked at him
that I had made the right choice. I cared for him deeply
and he was a wonderful husband and father. I looked at Karen
my 14 year old. She was a sophmore in high school, well
behaved and normally easy to handle. Many of my friends
envied me because Karen and I seemed to have so few problems.
Her figure had been developing faster than I wanted to see
though, I worried about her. She went out with Pete,
Gloria’s 16 year old and I felt that he was to wild for her.
Scott my 12 year old was skinny as a beanpole, a little
awkward but he was moving out of the awkward stage and I was
quite proud of him. Linda our youngest was 11, she was a
little monster, I loved her dearly though, she was my
favorite. Tom accused me of spoiling her. All in all I was
extremely proud of my family.
I looked up and saw that we had almost reached Gloria’s
house. I was a little nervous but Tom had told me that we
could leave after a little if I still didn’t feel better. If
he only knew!!! Dave met us at the door. Behind him stood
Mona who had been Karen and Scott’s 5th grade teacher. I
heard voices in the living room and I saw Phil, Gloria’s
brother and a young women I didn’t know. While Dave
introduced me to Phil and his date (Denise) Mona took Tom off
to the side and they appeared to be engaged in an earnest
discussion. The kids disappeared upstairs. I realized that
I was the only woman not wearing a skirt or a dress. Gloria
came out of the kitchen, welcomed us and asked if Mona or
I could give her a hand in the kitchen for a moment. Mona
grabbed my hand and almost dragged me into the kitchen. Once
there she placed her hand over my mouth while Gloria picked
up a cup of some bright red sauce and splashed it on my white
blouse. Gloria spoke loudly, “I’m terribly sorry”. She went
on for a moment while Mona relaxed her grip but kept a hand
on my arm and quietly said. “Co-operate with me Joan and
today will be fairly easy for you.” Before I could answer
Mona pulled me out of the kitchen, I tried to look
embarrassed, not scared. I knew somehow that that was how
they wanted me to act while Gloria announced how clumsy she
was. Mona offered to take me home to change clothes, while
Gloria continued to act sympathetic and apologize. The show
was clearly for Tom’s benefit. I understood from the
pressure of Mona’s fingers that I was to accept her offer. I
did.
She drove me the 2 blocks to my home silently. I asked
her what was going on, for a moment I was outraged but when
she offered to take me back and allow Gloria to tell Tom what
I had really done 2 weeks earlier I became a little scared
(terrified) and went along with her. She pulled up into my
driveway, I got out and begain walking towards the back door.
She stopped me. “When you enter a home alone you will use
the back door, when you are with someone else, you will
ensure that they at least use the front”.
I looked at her to ask what in the world but thought
better of it. She went up the stairs and straight into my
bedroom. I watched her as she went through my closet. She
was tall about 5′8″, blonde hair, blue eyes, single and about
31 or 32 years old. She had a good body and as I remembered
she had always liked to flaunt it. She was wearing a long
black skirt, but it was slit to mid thigh. I had seen when
we had walked into Gloria’s home that Tom had noticed her. I
had felt a tinge of jealousy.
After going through my closet for a moment she turned to
me and told me to get out all my skirts, pumps or heels, tan
or flesh covered panty hose, and sweaters. She would choose
what I was to wear. I complied with her demand. As I bent
down to get out my shoes I bumped into her. She grabbed my
hair and slapped my twice across the face. She didn’t hit me
hard but I was shocked. Tears rolled down my face. “Hurry
up, if we don’t get back in a few minutes Gloria will be
getting out the picture album she created for you last week
and showing Tom and your kids what a good show you put on.”
After I had lain everything out she picked out 2 pair of
shoes, plain black pumps and plain white ones, several pair
of panty hose and a sweater. She made me try on several
skirts. Finally she made me put on the black pumps, panty
hose, a knee length black skirt and a red turtle neck. She
put several skirts, the white pumps and some panty hose into
a shopping bag. As she turned to go almost as an
afterthought she told me to show her what kind of sweaters
Karen had. She picked out a sweater that I had given Karen
for her birthday, a beautiful white angora sweater. She
placed that in her shopping bag and we left.
When we got back they were all sitting down to dinner.
Gloria sat Tom down at one table and Mona quickly grabbed the
empty seat to his right. I felt Phil’s hand guide me to a
seat at the other table. I looked over at Tom, he smiled at
me and started to say something. Right about then Mona
placed her hand on his arm and he turned to talk to her. I
sat down between Phil and Denise. I wasn’t very hungry. I
picked at my food. Phil tried to make small talk and so did
Denise. About halfway through the dinner I felt Phil’s hand
on my leg. He started at the knee and slid his hand between
my skirt and leg. While smiling at my daughter and asking
her about a party she had gone to with Pete he fondled my
thigh up to my panties. We both acted as if nothing was
happening. Denise looked at him and in a very sotto voice,
told him to “leave her alone,……for now” they both laughed
at that and after that they pretty much ignored me.
After dinner Gloria grabbed me and guided me into the
kitchen. I could hear Tom talking to Phil and Mona just
outside the door. She told me that Dave had something to
show me. He came up from the basement and motioned for me to
follow him down. I went down behind him, upstairs I could
hear the voices of the others. He took me to the corner
where I had spent the night 2 weeks earlier. There was a
blanket covering one wall. He removed it, underneath there
were dozens of pictures. They were all of me, in the various
stages of undress that I had been forced to parade around in
that night. In the center there was a large color photo of
me, topless, on my knees, with my left hand around an erect
penis, no more than 3 inches from my face. Cum was dripping
off my face and hand. My wedding ring could be clearly seen
underneath. It looked as if I was smiling. Next to that one
there was a shot of me wearing panties, pantyhose, black
heels, and nothing else. I was kneeling in the living room
while 6 or 7 people sat on the couches ignoring me. “Joan if
you will cooperate today we won’t show these pictures to Tom.
If at any time you cause any trouble though, he will get the
same tour that you received.” Numbly I turned away. I
started to cry. “If he sees something is wrong, we will have
to assume you are not cooperating. I will leave you alone
here for a few moments but we will be expecting you
upstairs.” He smiled at me, and reached down and raised my
skirt. He looked at my legs for a moment, as if to show me
that he had that power. He dropped my skirt and left the
basement without speaking again. After several minutes I
turned and walked up the stairs.
I numbly reached for the door handle, I was going to
just leave, nothing could be worse than staying. Gloria was
standing right outside the door. She smiled and told me that
she thought I might try and leave, but it would be easier if
I stayed. If I left she and Mona would have to show Tom what
a “slut he had married.” After she and Mona finished talking
to Tom I could never go home again. If I continued to
cooperate I would only suffer momentary embarrassment. I was
repulsed at what she considered “momentary embarrassment” but
knew that I had no choice. We went inside. Most everyone
was in the living room. Tom was there with Mona. He looked
up at me. “How are you feeling?” “Better I lied”. Gloria
told Tom that she wanted to show me her new crafts room. He
laughed and told me to have fun. Gloria guided me up the
stairs. We went up into what had been the attic. It had
been remodeled for her to use for her hobbies. (I was soon
to learn that I was a hobby). Once there Denise soon joined
us. Phil was right behind her. “Shall we get started?”
Gloria asked sarcastically. Phil grabbed my arms while
Gloria and Denise pulled my sweater off. As soon as my arms
slipped through the sleeves Phil grabbed them again. They
removed my skirt and slip and then, strangely, Gloria asked
Phil and Denise to leave the room.”
“Joan, don’t talk, just and absorb what I have to say.
Go ahead, sit down on the bed. Obviously you realized
earlier that you have more to gain by going along with us
than by fighting. What I have in mind for you isn’t too bad.
You are going to have to learn to cooperate. If you do,
your life will go on pretty much as it always has. If not,
well, I have some alternate plans. For the rest of today,
relax and try to have fun. I promise you will not be hurt.”
I thought about what she had said. All through my life,
from high school, college, and marriage I had been a “good
girl”, a “good wife” and generally had conformed to what a
“nice” girl should do. Tom had been my “first”. I
fantasized about other men on occasion but had never so much
as expressed the thought. I always dressed modestly. The
night they raped me I was terrified, humiliated, degraded to
the point of being sick, but when I thought back about it, I
started to feel warm down around my vagina. I knew, and she
knew that I was going to cooperate. She knew how I felt,
degraded but excited.
Dave came in the room. Gloria commanded that I kneel on
the floor. I did. Phil and Denise came back in. Denise
picked up a tape measure and proceeded to take my
measurements. After she measured my bust I was allowed to
replace my bra. She recorded the measurements on a bulletin
board. I noticed that there were blanks there so the
succeeding measurements could be compared to the previous
ones. Dave looked down the stairs and into the hallway. He
reported that the coast was clear Gloria led me down stairs
to the bathroom. I was directed to step on the scale. We
started back into the attic but Gloria guided me to her
bedroom. She pushed my head down into what had been an old
heating grate, but was now slightly open into her living
room. I saw Tom and Mona on the couch, Mona had her hand on
his arm and it was obvious they were engrossed in
conversation. Her skirt had slipped partially off her thigh.
He was enjoying her company. It was also obvious that she
was offering him more than a platonic relationship. Before I
could react Gloria guided me back upstairs. I was directed
to kneel on the floor again while the others discussed my
body. I learned that they thought it was good, but that I
would be sent to the “Workout World” to improve it. During
the afternoon, I stayed there, not ignored but not harrassed
either. Phil wrote out an exercise schedule and told me
that I would be using it soon. Dave and Phil spent most of
the time downstairs.
I could hear the kids in another room but they stayed
well out of the way most of the afternoon. I was terrified
that one of them would come in and see me like this. Denise
mentioned something to Gloria about Tom coming up but Gloria
laughed and assured her that Mona was not going to let him
out of her sight.
Late in the afternoon Denise told me to dress and come
on downstairs. She took me into the bathroom and helped
rearrange my make-up. When I came downstairs Tom had the
kids in the living room and they were preparing to leave.
Gloria asked me to stay. “Tom you don’t mind if Joan stays
awhile do you?” He said it was up to me. They both looked
at me, but before I could speak Gloria spoke up, “great,
it’s settled, Joan promised me she would help me bake
tonight”. With that Tom told me not to stay too late,
kissed me, and left with the kids.
Gloria brought me into the living room. Mona brought
out the bag of clothing she had taken from my home earlier.
Dave and Phil seemed to be arranging some photographic
lights and shades around the Christmas tree. Dave had
several cameras two on tripods, and one with a strange
looking lens that he was holding in his hand. As soon as
they finished arranging things they looked at me,
expectantly, “Well come on, step up here.” I came forward
and Dave “posed me” in front of the tree. “Turn slightly
sideways, bend forward slightly, now with your right hand,
grab a handful of skirt and raise it a little.” “Damn it
smile!” I was sobbing by now, Dave roughly wiped my face,
and pushed me into the position he wanted. For several
minutes we went on like this. Finally, Gloria who had been
watching silently suggested theat we were going about this
all wrong. “Strip her!!” she commanded, Denise and Mona
proceeded to undress me. They weren’t rough, they weren’t
gentle, they were just cold and efficient. After I was
undressed Dave lay me down on the floor, on my side and
photographed me in front of the tree. Then he moved me so
that I was on my back, feet towards the camera, legs spread,
and my left hand (wedding ring) covering my vagina. I was
made to pose this way for a while.
Eventually I was allowed to put on some clothing, and I
was photographed for the next couple hours in various stages
of dress and undress. I tried on all the pairs of panty
hose Mona had brought, Dave and Phil selected the shades
they liked. One skirt, my longest, had been slit to the
waist, another had been hemmed up during the afternoon so
that it was much too short. They tried every combination of
clothing and pose imaginable. No blouse, then no skirt,
change shoes, bra on, bra off, panty hose on, panty hose
off, change skirts, remove skirt etc. I wasn’t enjoying
this at all but I wasn’t as scared as I had been originally.
I was still scared and maybe a little angry (although my
fear overruled my anger) but it wasn’t as hard to go along
with them as it had been in the beginning. I realized what
Gloria had done. By making me pose nude at first, I knew
the worst was over and that things had to get better. It
worked. Both Dave and Phil became quite solicitous, as long
as I cooperated they were gentle.
About 9:30 Dave told Gloria he was done. Mona piped up,
“I have one more idea.” I was directed to put on some
suntan panty hose, my black heels, and my daughters White
sweater, but no skirt. The sweater was quite long and
actually partially covered my thighs. Gloria brought me to
the kitchen, bent me over the sink and soaked the sweater
with water. She brought me dripping into the living room.
Mona had collected 3 hair dryers and they began heating the
sweater to dry it, while I was still in it. It took about an
hour. When they finished they repeated the process. Finally
they did it again. This time before it was totally dry Mona
suggested they try some shots. By now the sweater had
shrunk. It was from fitting. It had stretched around my
breasts and was tight on my stomach. It still covered a
little thigh.
Dave posed me in front of the tree again. This time he
took several rolls of film of just this outfit. I knelt, I
bent over, I was twisted, and even took one shot looking
straight at the camera, hands underneath my chest as if I
was offering my breasts. This shot took awhile to get right
because they insisted I smile. It wasn’t easy but Gloria’s
threats and the promise that they would keep it up until I
got it right scared me into trying. The resultant grimace
wasn’t great but Dave said it would do. Finally Gloria
suggested the men pose with me. I knelt in front of them,
Dave unzipped his fly and placed my hand around his penis.
I began to perform as he wished. When he was done he did
not put his penis back into his pants, he stood next to we
while I was forced to suck Phil. During this time Gloria
took numerous shots. Finally they were done.
I was told to kneel in the corner for a while. Mona
asked me about the family photo that we had taken several
weeks earlier. “Tom told me that you are going to send
cards this year with that photo on them”. I nodded
agreement. Dave looked at Gloria and they both smiled.
“Bring us some of them!” “When will you pick them up?” I
replied that they should be ready on Monday. Gloria ordered
me to bring them to her immediately after I got them. The
phone rang, Dave answered it. “Everythings fine, she should
be finished in a little. Joan, it’s Tom.” He handed me the
phone and I took it. “He sounded a little irritated. It’s
well passed midnight hon, when will you be home? I didn’t
think you would stay this long, I wish you would have called,
is everything all right?” As he was speaking Phil had
reached over and was absentmindedly fondling my thigh.
Denise tried to smother a giggle but failed. I told Tom I
was all right and would be home soon. He sounded a little
relieved, I told him not to wait up, He said he would try but
in any case to wake him when I got in. I promised and we
hung up. I asked Gloria if I could leave.
She told me that they weren’t done with me yet. She
wanted to get a few more shots of me with my ring finger
wrapped around Dave’s penis. I was posed again, and again.
Finally they were through. Gloria told me to dress, as I
had been dressed when I arrived. I did but Mona stopped me
when I started to put the skirt on. Gloria told me that I
was through for the weekend but that I had better be back
Monday at 1:30 with the family Christmas cards.
“Do you hear me?” “Yes, I heard.” “Than you better be
here.” Gloria took me into the kitchen where we were joined
by Mona. “Joan, I have a few instructions for you; first
you will no longer wear pantsuits or jeans, you will wear
skirts and dresses ALWAYS, second you will no longer say no
to a man, and third you will use the back door when you are
at my home.” Do you understand? I nodded. She sounded
gentle so I asked her why…..Before The words were out of
my mouth I was told to “Shut UP!!! In due time you will
learn, for now, just cooperate and you will be allowed to
continue your way of life. Mona got up to leave. I
gathered my skirt in my hand, looked for my slip with no
success, found my purse and headed for the door. “Wrong
door bitch” with that Gloria pointed at the back door. I
walked out and found Mona waiting out front. She motioned
for me to get into her car. I did. She drove to my house,
once in front I started to put my skirt on. She stopped me.
“Get out of the car.” “I’m not dressed.” She reached over
and pushed me out, I was to scared to fight. Once out of
her car I stood there, she had stopped under a street light,
and put my skirt on. I walked into the house.
On the kitchen counter was a yellow manila envelope.
Joan, read me, it said in large red letters. I opened it
and gasped. It contained a blank diary, but also about
twenty pictures taken two weeks earlier. The photographs
formed a chronological record of my gang-rape. There was a
note. “Joan use this diary to record what happened to you
during the last two weeks. Be detailed, be specific, record
everything about your feelings. Bring this with you when you
come over Monday. You may keep the snapshots. So far you
are the only one in your family who has seen them. If you
continue to cooperate, we may be able to keep it this way.
Sweet Dreams…………. Gloria, Mona, and Denise.”
I stuffed the photo’s back into the manilla envelope and
shoved it into a cabinet full of junk that no one ever
looked into, and stumbled upstairs sobbing quietly. Tom was
sound asleep when I got there. For some reason I looked on
his dresser. There was one of his business cards with some
writing on it, I took it into the bathroom to read. It was
a women’s handwriting, it had a phone number, and address,
and it was signed Mona………..Not knowing what could come
next, I crawled off to bed. I thought about the day, Tom’s
possible relationship with Mona, and Gloria’s final orders.
I drifted off to sleep.

Smut Bedtime Story

Administrator — Tue, 15 Jan 2008 15:23:27 +0000

Except for its inconspicuous lock, the door at the end of the
short hallway of Miranda’s middle-class home looked perfectly
ordinary.
But the windowless room beyond the locked door was a sexual
Never-Never Land, a fantastic reflection in a kinky Looking Glass.
While Miranda watched, amused, the key dangling from her finger, I
took one step inside, then another — and stopped, staring. My
heart was racing, my eyes wide. I had never seen anything like it
before.
Two walls were mirrored, from the tiled floor to the black-
painted ceiling. An incredible array of whips, restraints, gags,
and harnesses hung from the peg strips which circled the room at
waist height. Pushed into the near corner was a heavy padded
sawhorse; the center of the room was dominated by a wooden X-frame
solid as an oak and seven feet tall. Both the horse and the frame
were dotted with steel eyebolts, some of which sported dangling
chains or cuffs. All of it looked well used. None of it, as far as
I could tell, was for show.
And in the opposite corner, facing it all like a queen’s
throne, was a fan-backed rattan chair with thick ruby-red
cushions. A black riding crop rested across the seat.
It was a real dungeon, a dominant/submissive playground,
tucked into a back room in a perfectly ordinary home. And this
surprising wonderland belonged to my friend Miranda — a woman
whose dress and appearance wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at a PTL
meeting.
Whose usual dress and appearance, anyway. I turned back toward
Miranda, my mouth suddenly dry. “This is incredible,” I said. What
my eyes were saying, I didn’t know. But I was looking at her very
differently. My mind flashed on a picture of Miranda in black
corset on the fan-back chair, contemplating me bound naked on the
X-frame. My cock began to swell at the thought.
“You approve, then?” she asked archly, her eyes sparkling.
There was a tension between us at that moment of a kind that
had never surfaced before. She was at ease, self-amusedly waiting
to see what I would do. I was uncomfortable, and tempted to hide
behind a wisecrack. But for some reason I just swallowed, nodded,
and said quietly, “Yeah.”
Her next question cut to the heart of the tension. “Do you
want to try it?”
I couldn’t look away from her. “Yes. I — I do.”
She looked at me questioningly, as though I had said something
wrong.
“Yes, Mistress,” I amended, suddenly realizing why she was
waiting.
She smiled then, a pleased smile. “Then go back to the living
room, slave Alan, and take off all your clothes. Kneel in the
middle of the floor, and wait there until I come for you. I have a
few things to get ready.”
#
I undressed, heart pounding, still not quite believing what
was happening.
What was I getting into? How much could I trust her? Though
I’d known Miranda for more than two years, we lived in cities five
hundred miles apart. We had met at an education conference in
Raleigh — she was a testing specialist at a private college, I
was a placement counselor at a large university. We ended up
spending several hours together that weekend, in lecture sessions
and on a mass expedition for Chinese food. She smoothly and firmly
squelched my attempts to flirt with her, but even so, I had a
wonderful time in her company.
When we ran into each other at another conference later that
year, it was like finding a friend in a mob of strangers. We had
dinner together again (only five at the table this time) and sat
up late in the hotel bar on the last night, telling stories and
laughing. I wrote her a few letters over the next year, and she
called me a few times. But the tone was always friends-keeping-in-
touch. There was no hint or thought of romance. Miranda seemed to
be on a different wavelength, as though she didn’t play that game
at all. I confess I couldn’t quite figure her out, even though I
enjoyed her a great deal.
Then came the week-long counseling workshop in her home city,
my wonder-if-we-could-get-together call, her invitation to a
casual dinner at her house, and the free-ranging conversation that
kept coming back to sex.
Somehow I had found myself telling her more about my past and
my preferences than most of my lovers ever knew, and much more
than Miranda was telling me. Eventually I got to my interest in
what I knowingly called “D&S,” and how it was a shame that so few
women seemed to understand about the exchange of power and how
much fun it could be. I was pretending a familiarity I didn’t
have, and Miranda must have known it, but she let me blather on
for a time before calling my bluff by taking me down the hall.
And now here I was, kneeling naked in her living room with a
throbbing hard-on, staring my fantasy in the face. I knew what
most of the toys hanging in the dungeon were for. But my knowledge
was almost entirely academic, drawn from books like Exit to Eden
and a sampling of fem-dom porn. The games I’d played with lovers
past had been strictly amateur. Miranda was the real article, and
that scared me as much as it excited me.
Maybe it scared me because it excited me. Or excited me
because it scared me. I didn’t know how to tell the difference.
#
Minutes dragged past, and my knees and ankles began to
complain about the position I had assumed. Then I heard a door
open, and the click of heels in the hallway. I turned to look, and
found my hostess transformed into a stunning Mistress.
Her mane of wavy auburn hair was set off now by a studded
black choker. Her ample breasts seemed barely confined in a
leather halter laced only to the lower curves of her cleavage. She
wore fingerless elbow-length gloves and gleaming studded
wristlets. In her right hand was the crop, in the left a collar.
Her hips were sheathed in a tight leather wrap-skirt which bared
her beautiful thighs. Her stockings were black and sheer, her
shoes spike-heeled with ankle straps.
She was, in a word, gorgeous. My erection, which had flagged a
bit as I waited, stirred to new life. She noted, and smiled
wickedly. “Nice,” she said, looking directly at my cock. “I can
have fun with that.”
I found my voice. “You look fantastic, Mistress Miranda.
Incredibly sexy.”
“Did I give you permission to look at me, slave?”
My breath caught. “No, Mistress,” I said, and lowered my eyes.
Miranda laughed. “I want you to look at me. I want you to want
me. You can’t have me, of course. But wanting is good.”
She ordered me to crawl to her. Then, standing over me, she
said in a low voice that chilled me, “I’m going to take you to
that place you’ve been wanting to go. I’m going to teach you what
your body can feel. I’m going to play with you, and punish you,
and use you for my pleasure. I want more than your obedience. I
want your surrender. Do you understand?”
I said I did, hoping I did. She made me kiss her shoes and her
crop, and then placed the plain, heavy collar on my neck and
locked it in place. Pulling me up by the collar, she whispered a
“safe word” in my ear — which I silently vowed not to use. Then
she pushed me back down to hands and knees and led me to her
dungeon.
#
Miranda was in no hurry. She kept me kneeling before her
chair, my legs spread wide and my wrists cuffed and locked
together behind my back, while she asked me pointed questions
about my experience and my fantasies.
All the while, she kept touching me, teasingly. She toed my
balls with the point of her shoe, tapped my cock with the tip of
her crop, scraped and plucked my nipples with her nails. Once she
let me suck her middle finger, which I did eagerly. I wanted to
make her feel good, and that was the first chance she’d given me.
When she’d learned everything she wanted, she rose and led me
to the X-frame. My cuffed wrists were unhooked from each other,
then fastened high on the wooden crosspieces. Miranda selected a
second, larger pair of cuffs from the wall, and soon my legs were
spread wide, my ankles locked to the foot of the frame.
I had never felt so sexually vulnerable. I was facing out and
leaning back, completely helpless, completely exposed, my cock
hard as an eighteen-year-old’s and already dripping from the tip.
“I can see I’m going to have to do something about this,”
Miranda said, seizing my cock by the root. “You’ve obviously been
thinking about fucking me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I told the truth. “Yes, Mistress.”
She slapped the head of my cock smartly with her free hand,
making me gasp. “Forget it. You’ll be lucky if I fuck you.” Letting
go of my cock, she walked to her collection of sexual toys, and
returned with a small harness with several straps. “This should keep
this greedy little cock under control.”
A few moments later, my proud shaft was encased in a tight
leather sheath that exposed only the head. One strap went around
the root where she had grabbed me. Another went around my scrotum,
while a third separated the balls. It felt as though my entire
manhood was being squeezed in a fist. My cock throbbed, reddened.
Already, I desperately wanted to come.
But Miranda had other plans. Her next choice was a length of
rope with dozens of spring clothespins clamped to it. She gave me
one end of the rope to hold between my teeth, and then began to
decorate my body with the wooden clamps. She started with one on
either side of each nipple, pinching the skin with her fingers to
give the clip a good bite. Then she placed a clothespin directly
on my left nipple, and I moaned — and dropped the rope I was
holding for her.
“I’m going to add to your whipping for that,” she said as she
gave me back the end of the rope and resumed her project. The
other nipple was next, then the underside of my arms, the inside
of my thighs, and, finally, my cock. First, she tugged out enough
skin to attach one of the little biting monsters to each side of
my already harnessed scrotum. I almost bit through the rope. Then
she started on the engorged head of my cock, placing one, two,
four, seven clothespins in a semi-circle on the narrow, sensitive
ridge.
Taking the rope from me, she stepped back to admire her
handiwork. “Look at yourself, in the mirror,” she said.
I saw a naked man in complete submission, his limbs spread-
eagled and restrained, his throbbing cock tormented. I felt like I
was tripping. The tension in my body was incredible. My blood was
on fire. It was as though she was touching me in a hundred places
at once, and every one of them was making me crazy with desire. My
eyes closed, and I slipped down into the sea of sensation, leaving
thought behind.
Suddenly I jumped, writhing, as an electric jolt coursed
through me. My right nipple was suddenly burning. What was
happening? I opened my eyes to find that Miranda had folded the
length of rope twice over and was using it to strike the
clothespins from my body. Her aim was true, and every time she
knocked one free, thousands of nerve endings which had been
temporarily overloaded suddenly came back to life shouting
protests.
The last to go were the seven pins on the head of my cock. By
the time the last dropped to the floor, I was quivering and
hanging limply in my cuffs. Miranda stepped close and ran her
fingertips grazingly over my skin, the touch making me jump. Then
her hand closed around my sheathed cock, and her thumb rubbed the
wetness oozing from the tip all over the head.
“You took that well,” she said softly. “Maybe you’ll get lucky
after all. But first, I owe you a whipping.”
Miranda released me only long enough to turn me around, toward
the frame, so my back and bottom were exposed. I watched in the
mirror as she selected a short, many-stranded whip, then moved
behind me. She started with light strokes that barely warmed the
skin, leather kisses on my thighs and ass. The strokes came faster
and harder, until it felt like my skin was glowing. I stopped
watching. I stopped thinking.
Then Miranda traded the short whip for a long, stiff leather
paddle. The first blow from it lifted me off my heels and made me
cry out in surprise. She gave me little time to recover, applying
the paddle vigorously across both cheeks and the backs of my
thighs. The weight of the paddle and the strength of her arm
carried the shock of each explosion through my whole body. I
moaned, grunted, and fought against my chains.
But the incredible thing was that it didn’t hurt. I was past
that. It was a wake-up call to my senses, a charge of pure sexual
energy. All I was was what I was feeling, and all I was feeling
was wave after wave of delicious intensity. I was flying.
After a time I couldn’t measure, Miranda stepped up close
behind me, caressed my hot ass and said in a half-whisper, “Now,
the punishment I promised you.”
There was a long moment to wonder. Then I heard the whistle as
it cut the air, and I knew — it was the crop. And when it landed,
it felt like I was being sliced open, a line of fire burning into
my ass cheeks. My body went rigid, and when the crop fell a second
time I couldn’t hold it all in any more, and screamed. Twice more
the crop came down, and then Miranda drew close again, her body
brushing against me as she traced the scarlet, swollen marks the
crop had left.
She moved away again, leaving me to hang there on the wooden
frame, breathless, shoulders aching, all resistance gone, glowing
inside and out. Time dilated, stopped. The next touch was a hand
spreading my ass cheeks, and another hand smearing my opening with
a slippery gel, pushing a lubricated finger inside me.
“Now the reward you’ve been hoping for,” she said softly.
I raised my head and looked sideways at the mirror, and saw
that Miranda had shed her leather skirt. She was wearing a harness
that was like a leather G-string, and jutting out from it was a
long black dildo. I watched as she moved in behind me, guided the
head to my asshole, and pushed it up inside me.
It was blissful, humiliating, erotic. I was impaled,
stretched, violated. Miranda was fucking my ass, claiming
possession of me, and all I wanted to do was open to her and give
her whatever she wanted to take. And then she reached around my
waist and loosed the straps on my harness, freeing my cock from
its leather prison. She began to masturbate me, stroking my cock
in rhythm with her reaming of my ass.
With everything that had gone before, I was on the edge, and
had been for some time. Before long, my gasps and moans betrayed
my approaching orgasm. Miranda took that cue to bury the dildo
deep inside me, tighten her grip, and stroke my cock furiously.
After a long few seconds, I went over the edge, crying out and
writhing as my cock spurted long jets of come into the air.
#
Miranda took a Polaroid photo of me before she freed me, and
then allowed me to shoot one of her before she changed. I took
that photo, my memories, and the four crisscrossing red stripes
from the riding crop home with me on the plane. I don’t know when
I’ll next see my friend, or if she’ll ever favor me that way
again. But one thing is certain — I’ll never again think I know
someone if I haven’t seen what they keep, and who they are, behind
locked doors.

Jim Carol Dominate Wrestling

Administrator — Tue, 07 Aug 2007 19:43:42 +0000

Archive-name: Amazon/carol1.txt
Archive-author:
Archive-title: Jim vs. Carol

As Jim rode the Metro North train from the Connecticut
suburbs into New York’s Grand Central Station, he was
eagerly anticipating the coming hour’s event. The previous
night he had telephoned in a response to an ad in Screw
Magazine’s “Hells Belles” section. Along with the myriad
ads for mistresses and dungeons, promising to do all sort of
unspeakable things to one’s body, was one featuring “total
physical domination” and wrestling. Jim had long fantasized
about being physically dominated by a strong, attractive
woman, being forced to submit repeatedly to painful
submission holds. After talking to Carol, the placer of the
ad, Jim felt that he had just found the answer to his
fantasies. Carol promised that she could easily make him
beg to be released. She especially liked to work scissors
and choke holds, and really got off on totally dominating
her “victim.” Even more than her more “normal” trade,
dominating men by bondage and spanking, she really loved
using her body to punish them. After hearing all that, Jim
immediately made an appointment with Carol for the next
afternoon. Now his dream was about to be realized.
The walk from Grand Central to the 27th Street address
Carol had given Jim seemed to take forever, Jim was so
anxious for his match to begin. As he walked along, Jim
dreamed of being held by Carol in various holds, but failed
to understand how a girl who sounded so sexy on the phone
could manage to squeeze a submission out of him. He had
watched many videos of mixed matches where the women had the
men yelling out agonized submissions, but it was always
obvious that the holds were staged and the men were
submitting “for the camera.” Although Jim was slightly
built, at 5′8″ and 140 pounds, he felt he was strong enough
to take any woman. Carol’s promise to make him beg for
mercy seemed remote.
Finally he reached the address. He rang the doorbell,
and someone buzzed him in. He climbed the two flights of
stairs promised by Carol and knocked on her door. After a
minute the door was opened by a very tall pretty blonde
wearing an electric blue housecoat. “Hi, you must be Jim,”
she said pleasantly. “I’m Carol. Come on in.”
Jim walked in to a pleasant apartment, dominated by
several large wrestling mats placed on the floor. What
furniture there was was pushed to one side. “As you can
see, I have everything ready for our match. Do you have
something for me, Jim?” said Carol.
Jim fished in his pocket and found the $200 they had
agreed on. Carol took it into another room and quickly
returned. “While you strip down to your shorts, I’ll go
over the ground rules. Ok?”
Jim readily agreed and started to undress. Carol
slipped off her bathrobe. “Wow!” Jim thought. Carol was a
“10″ in anybody’s book. About six feet tall, she was
wearing a tightly-fitting one-piece shiny blue bathing suit.
Her breasts were were nice-sized, but not overly large. The
shiny fabric of the bathing suit was stretched so tightly
over her luscious body that he could see her erect nipples
outlined. Her legs were long and “ran all the way to her
ass.” They were very shapely, but Jim could tell that they
were well-muscled. Carol struck a biceps-flex, revealing
arm muscles that would make many guys proud. “This may not
be as easy as I thought!” raced through Jim’s mind.
Carol outlined the ground rules for their match.
“Number 1. No biting, scratching or hitting with closed
fists. Slapping and spanking are ok, but judo chops are
out. Number 2. You can only win a hold by a pin, but I can
win by either pin or submission. Number 3. None of this
silly three-second pin stuff. We declare a pin when the
loser agrees that he is helpless to get up. Number 4. After
a pin or submission we have a one minute rest break, then go
again. Number 5. The match goes for one hour or until one
of us gives up totally. Number 6. If we roll off the mat,
we break and start again. Agreed?”
Jim nodded his assent and told Carol he was ready
whenever she was. Carol set a wind-up timer for one hour
and started it. She stepped to the center of the mats and
motioned for him to follow. Taking a slight crouch, she
said “Let’s wrestle, sucker!”
The two circled warily, each looking for an opening.
Jim made a lunge for Carol’s head, but she deftly spun away,
twirling around so quickly Jim could scarcely believe his
eyes. He was still recovering his balance from this lunge
when Carol jumped him, taking him in a side headlock. She
locked her hands and quickly rolled him over her right hip
onto the mat. Pivoting around, Carol tightened the headlock
and spread her legs for stability. She was arranged at a
right angle to him, with most of her weight on his chest and
head, one beautiful fabric-clad breast thrust in his face.
Normally Jim would love to be under such a well-built
beautiful woman in such a position. However, it was quickly
apparent to Jim that her well-muscled arms were indeed
strong, for the headlock was painful! She worked the hold,
twisting and flexing her arms, sending spasms of pain
through Jim’s neck and head. She countered any move on his
part by pivoting to keep their 90-degree arrangement. Jim
was in real trouble, and the match was only seconds old!
Carol continued to work the hold, and before long Jim could
sense some dizziness creeping up.
Finally he managed to jam his right arm between his neck
and her arms. Forcing against her grip with all his
strength, he managed to break the hold. Rolling away from
Carol, Jim shook his head, trying to shake off the pain and
dizziness. He didn’t have long to think about it, though.
Carol jumped him from behind and quickly took him in a
sleeper. Her right arm was around his neck, her hand
nestled in her left elbow. With her left hand she pressed
firmly against the back of his head, driving his head deep
into the crushing vee of her right arm. “I’ve got you now,
sucker! Do you give?” she taunted.
“Never!” grunted Jim. “Ok,” she retorted. “Say good
night, little boy.” She increased the force with both arms,
and Jim quickly began to feel the pressure. His ears were
ringing and he was having real problems breathing. Carol
was pushing so hard against his head that he toppled
forward, enabling her to bring her weight into play.
The last thing he remembered was her legs sliding
against his sides and back. Then he was flat on his
stomach, trying to figure out where he was. As he tried to
get up, his muscles jerked spasmodically in a “chicken
walk.” Gradually he came to his senses and realized that
her sleeper hold had really “put him out.”
“That’s one for me,” boasted Carol. “You get one minute
before we go again!”
Jim tried to make the most of his minute’s rest, but he
still felt shaky when Carol said, “Let’s go.”
This time, as the two circled, Jim was careful not to
make such a rash lunge for Carol. He made several cautious
moves toward Carol, but she was always a split second ahead
of him, spinning out of the way ready to pounce a second
later. Finally Carol lost her concentration for an instant
and Jim was able to get his arm around her neck in a side
headlock. He wasn’t able to flip her smoothly onto the mat
as she had done him, however, and he two wrestlers fell down
together. Although he managed to keep his headlock, Carol
was able to snake her legs around his his left leg and lock
her ankles, scissoring his thigh. She immediately tightened
her leg grip and started working out of his headlock. A
sudden jolt from her legs made him flinch, giving Carol the
opening she needed. She pushed up on his arms and pulled
her head down, escaping his grip. Quickly she snared his
left arm in a half-Nelson. The pair grappled for several
minutes, as Carol gradually asserted more and more control
over Jim.
Finally, as he tired, Carol was able to pin his other
arm and mesh her fingers behind his neck, establishing a
full-Nelson. She tightened the leg scissors and the Nelson,
twisting him painfully. “How you doing, big boy? Wanna
give?” she taunted. Jim was determined to ride this
through, however. “Never!” he grunted once again.
Carol maintained the pair of painful holds for several
minutes more. His leg ached from the constrictive pressure
of her muscular thighs, and his neck hurt like hell from the
tight Nelson. Still he wouldn’t submit.
Eventually Carol decided that this attack wouldn’t be
successful. She released his leg, using the Nelson to keep
Jim sprawled on his stomach. Suddenly she let go of his
arms and spun around, keeping her full weight squarely on
the center of his back. She scooped up his feet and firmly
tucked each ankle under her armpits. Squatting, she pulled
down on his legs and leaned back, executing a perfect Boston
Crab. The pressure on his back and legs was instant and
excruciating. “Let me know when you’ve had enough.” she
chuckled.
Jim tried his best to press up with his arms to relieve
the pressure and to force his legs back, but it was to no
avail. Carol had the hold too well established and was now
increasing the pressure. It felt as if his back were
breaking. Suddenly he saw bright lights flash in front of
his eyes as his back muscles spasmed. At the same time an
intense pain shot from his spine. Instantly he screamed “I
submit! I submit! Just let me go!!”
Carol released his legs and sat down on his sore back.
Jim was totally out of breath, and her weight made it more
difficult to breathe, not to mention get up. “Gotcha again,
didn’t I!” she crowed, and spanked his bottom hard four or
five times.
She stood up and helped Jim to his feet. “You took a
lot of pain in that round, Jim. Let’s rest five minutes.”
Jim didn’t argue, just groaned in agreement and sprawled
on a nearby sofa. After a few minutes his breathing had
returned to normal, but his back still hurt fiercely. Carol
was back in the middle of the mats, motioning for Jim to
join her.
Finally Jim drug himself over to the mat and warily
approached Carol. Carol played with him, dancing away from
his clumsy attempts to engage her. Finally she took him in
a front neck grip, turned her back to him, and vigorously
threw him over her head. Jim landed roughly on the mat.
Carol was all over him. She slipped her shapely legs around
his waist, establishing a perfectly placed body scissors,
and took him in a side headlock. Carol’s legs were
beautifully shaped, but their muscles were deadly. She
tightened her grip around Jim’s waist, painfully
constricting him. He flailed at her legs but couldn’t
affect her python-like grip. After struggling against the
two constrictive holds for a few minutes, he collapsed,
offering no resistance.
“You’re mine now, buddy-boy,” Carol hissed into his ear.
She tightened her scissors grip rhythmically, driving the
air from his body. “Let me know when you’ve had enough.”
Jim was in absolute agony. Carol’s deadly legs were
painfully crushing his waist, just below his rib cage, and
made breathing nigh onto impossible. Just as soon as he
could manage to take in a small gasp of air she would
tighten her legs, expelling it for him. He finally tried to
gasp out a submission, but he had too little air to do more
than croak. “What’s that, Jim? I can’t hear you!” Carol
growled through gritted teeth, as she bore down on his waist
once again.
This routine continued for a few more minutes, Jim
growing steadily weaker. Finally he was no longer moving,
his face a reddish-purple. Carol released the headlock and
lifted his arm. When she let go, it flopped limply on the
mat. She had squeezed Jim totally unconscious. Carol
patted his cheek and disengaged her legs.
After two or three minutes Jim came around, looking like
something the cat had dragged in. “I’ve had enough,” he
coughed. “You’re just too much for me. Where did you learn
all that?”
“Jim, when you called,” Carol smiled, “I told you that
domination was my business, and wrestling was my favorite
part. I’ve been doing this for five years now, and seldom
lose a fall anymore. By the way, let me know when you want
to try again. I give a discount for losers! You haven’t
even tried some of my better holds yet. Ever been in a head
scissors or a camel clutch?”
It was another few minutes before Jim was able to get to
his feet and dress. He had certainly realized his fantasy,
in spades. Before he left, however, he made another
appointment to wrestle with Carol in a few weeks. Once a
fool…….

–