The Addicted Natural Ch. 05

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blacknight99
blacknight99
1,129 Followers

I was very disappointed in the course. Daddy had made me read the textbook they were using almost two years before. I found myself daydreaming and watching the men and women around me, and if the professor asked me a question, I could always give an acceptable answer without thinking too much. Some of the girls in the class would whisper and cast glances my way. But it was the guys that particularly enchanted me. They looked, too. I'd never been around many men, and the looks they gave me ranged from sidelong glances of curiosity to outright leers. I found that I couldn't maintain eye contact (something I have trouble with to this day), and I'd always find myself blushing after discovering someone gazing at me.

Just before the second class, I had my first conversation with Jay. He was one of the "leerers" in the first class, and while he introduced himself to me and started asking me pointed questions to get the conversation going, I found myself stammering and blushing and actually sweating. I was talking to a guy! I was actually doing things that normal girls do! I still don't remember much of the things we said, but I remember that I thought it was wonderful. After class, he caught up with me again, and he made me sit next to him on a park bench outside the Econ building, and we talked for almost half and hour (until Ben came looking for me) about a myriad of topics I don't remember. I begged Ben not to tell Daddy that I'd met somebody, and he consented. But that would only make my guilt much worse, as things turned out.

The next class was on a Thursday, and I made Ben drive me earlier than normal. Sure enough, Jay was there early, too, and I hurried over to him and said hi. He had been talking to another girl, but he suddenly ignored her completely and gave all his attention to me. I felt fantastic. I felt pretty. I felt wanted. And for the first time, I began to wonder if I felt in love. Jay was a big, strong guy, with wavy blonde hair, a firm jaw, and rather cruel, bright, intelligent eyes. He put an arm around my shoulders, led me a few steps, and then turned me around to face him again. He stood very close, and while it excited me in ways I'd never imagined, I found myself backing away from him slightly. In another minute, I realized that he'd positioned me in such a way that my back was against one of the walls in the hallway. He put his right hand next to my head and leaned in close, talking all the time. I guess it was a classic pose: the schoolgirl trapped by a guy in the hallway. But I didn't really know what to do about it. I didn't really know if I WANTED to do something about it. The body language was unmistakable. The aggressive hunter and the tame fawn eating out of his hand. The predator and the innocent. The dominant and the submissive. Was this the way Mommy felt with Daddy? People were looking. Girls snickered and whispered to each other.

I struggled to keep up some semblance of conversation, and then was absolutely mortified to discover that the topic had somehow turned sexual. Even then, all I could seem to do was blush furiously and answer every question honestly. His voice was soft, gentle, strong, and very, very authoritative. I prayed that no one else could hear. I could only whisper my responses, which gave him an excuse to move even closer to me. Our faces were touching. Did I ever go out of the big house?No, not really.Never with friends?No. Ever date?No. Never?No. Never even did it with a guy?(Oh, God!) No.Never let a guy touch me?No.Ever wonder what it felt like? And when I hesitated, he put his lips to my ear and ordered: Answer me! I shivered.Yes. Do you ever touch yourself?NO!Don't you ever want to, though?No ... I mean ... I don't know ... I mean ... no.Are you sure? No ... I mean, yes.

People were drifting into the class, but he made no move to let me go. "You're very pretty," he said, and I could only gawk and stammer. "I want you," he said, and I suddenly realized that I was breathing hard for no apparent reason.

"Shouldn't we go into class?" I asked, and he told me that he felt like skipping class. He asked if I'd ever skipped class before, and I started muttering an explanation, but before I got too far, he said: "I want you to skip class and go with me."

"Where?"

"To heaven." And when I could only look at him dumbfounded, he laughed and whispered something I don't remember into my ear. I shivered and stuttered and fell quiet. I looked up into his eyes, feeling trapped and wonderful. His lips were so close to mine they were touching, tantalizing, smelling faintly of wintergreen. "Aren't you going to kiss me?" I asked, but he shocked me to my core by saying: "Baby, I'm going to fuck you 'til the cows come home."

My mouth seemed to try to work, but no words came. He told me that he was going to take me away from my rich snob of a father, and he was going to show me all the things I'd been missing all these years. Half the girls who'd gone into the class (the class we were missing!) he had already screwed, he said. They knew how to please a man. They knew what it felt like to have a man deep, deep inside (I shivered again, despite myself). They all knew what sex was like. But with them, it was just sex. It would be different with me. He was falling in love with me, he said, and now he wanted to show me what it could be like, sex with someone you loved. He was going to suck on my big, beautiful breasts and nipples. (Shiver.) He was going to touch me in ways I'd never dreamed; in places I didn't even know existed. He was going to do EVERYTHING to me. I was about to make love, he said. Make REAL love.

And when he was silent so long that I instinctively looked up at him, he kissed me. Kissed me hard. I think I'd have fallen if his body hadn't been pinning mine to the wall. I felt weak and dizzy and ... something else. Something very exciting was happening in my tummy and between my legs. When he finally stopped, he kept his lips gently touching mine.

"Make love with me," he urged. "Please! I want you!" He paused and I panted, but remained silent. "Don't you want to?" he pressed.

And I said yes.

Now, anybody with an ounce of common sense would agree that this whole scenario was such an obvious cliché that any girl with half a brain would have 1) laughed in his face and 2) slapped it as hard as she could. But it was really, really hard being a 22 year old walking hormone who had never even been close to a member of the male gender, and who suddenly found herself being told all the things she'd always dreamed about. He was going to make love to me, and certainly no one had ever done anything like that before. He was going to LOVE me, and no one had ever done that before, either. But more than anything else, he was going to take me away from Daddy, and that was the most intoxicating thing of all. I was going to escape! I was going to be free!

He took my hand and led me down the hall and out the door. It was if I was in some sort of trance, being led away. I didn't care where, as long as it was away from my life. Far away. And now I was going to have an adventure, just like in the books I was allowed to read. Adventure, sex, love, freedom. In the space of a quarter hour, Jay had changed my life, and now I was just along for the ride. To my astonishment, he led me right up to Ben, who was waiting in the car, and told him in a rather respectful manner that he wouldn't have to wait for me anymore; that I would be going with him today.

Ben seemed to take the situation in with a glance, and he shook his head sadly. "Don't do this, Dee," he told me soberly. "Your father will kill you."

But Jay answered before I could find my voice. "She's old enough, sir;" he told Ben, again speaking respectfully but sternly to the man behind the wheel of the Rolls, "old enough to make her own decisions. I'm sorry, but there's nothing you can do about it. Still, I wanted you to know." Ben glanced at Jay with nothing but contempt, refused to speak to him, and again pleaded directly with me to come home with him. He said that if I did, Daddy would never know about this.

And Jay forced the issue. Decide, he demanded. Home to Daddy, or ME. Decide now!

And of course I chose Jay.

He led me to his car, a hot little blue convertible sports car, and opened the passenger door for me. He put the top down, started the engine, and roared off. Within a block, he glanced in the rearview mirror and barked a delighted laugh, and I turned to see Ben following us in the old Rolls. But in another five miles Jay had left him beyond the horizon, and with my red hair flying wildly all around my face, we leapt forward at the speed of freedom. To this day I don't know which direction we were heading. We were on a major road, but I don't even know if it was an interstate highway. Jay drove fast, weaving smoothly through the traffic. We didn't talk; the wind prohibited easy speech, and there was really no need for it.

After about half an hour, he pulled into the parking lot of a very large metal building with huge, blaring letters atop its roof: ADULT BOUTIQUE – BOOKS – VIDEOS – NOVELTIES – XXX.

"What's this?" I laughed uncertainly, but he was already out of the car, around to my side and holding the door for me. I took his hand nervously. "I've never been in a place like this." But he didn't say anything. He took me into his arms and kissed me hard again, and then, while I was dizzy and panting, he led me to the door. And I let him, like a lamb to the slaughter, meekly, obediently.

I've never seen anything like it, before or since, though I find myself dreaming about it some nights ... often, in fact. There were several people there, though almost all of them were men, and I caught several of them casting glances my way. Jay didn't seem to be looking for anything in particular, but walked slowly through the aisles. It took me awhile to realize that he was watching me as I looked at the amazing wares for sale. He had led me into a seemingly endless display of VCR and DVD video movies of hardcore pornography. Very hardcore. I could only gawk. Please keep in mind that I had never, ever seen anything even remotely like pornography, if you can discount the R-rated movies that just about anybody can rent from their local video rental stores. But none of the love scenes that I had ever viewed showed ... THAT! The act, I mean. The actual showing of man's penis being put into a woman's vagina (I would learn to call it a prick and a cunt in the coming three days). I was mesmerized by the sight.

But this was nothing compared to the pictures on the video cases that were coming next. Men using their tongues, women using their mouths, women accepting pricks of all shapes and sizes in an amazing variety of ways. Women accepting those pricks in their asses! (Why? For what purpose?) White, gooey stuff all over women's faces. For a long minute, I couldn't figure out what it was, but then I saw a picture of a prick squirting it at a woman's open mouth. I had never seen it before, though I'd read about it in an encyclopedia. So that's what it looked like! One picture really is worth a thousand words, especially if those words are forbidden in your household.

By now, I had come to realize that Jay was watching me, watching my reaction to all this, and I was about to make some comment when I was struck dumb by what was in the next section of videos. Women tied up. In all sorts of ways. In all sorts of poses. Being subjected to all sorts of humiliating things. It had to be the most erotically stimulating thing I had ever seen. I stared openly at one beautiful damsel who was sporting more square knots than a bo's'n mates' convention, and she was gazing helplessly into the camera lens as a man's hands were clipping some sort of torturous-looking contraption onto her nipples. "Why is she letting him do that?" I asked Jay.

"Maybe she just wants to find out what it feels like," he answered, watching me closely; but I could only stare back into the trussed-up girl's eyes and say nothing. I could imagine what she was feeling, somehow. I could almost (almost) feel it myself. "Or maybe she has no choice," he whispered in my ear. And THAT made me jump a little. I gawked at her. No choice. So helpless. Was that fear in her eyes? Pain? Lust? All three?

After a long minute, Jay grabbed my hand and began pulling me back toward the front of the store to some sort of display. It contained lots of what I first mistook for necklaces, but the words above them took away all of the mystery. Well, not all. Not by a long shot. "Nipple Clamps."

"How big are your nipples?" he asked cruelly.

I looked around to see if anyone had heard. The guy behind the register was certainly close enough, and he was looking right at me. I stammered. "I don't know ... I mean ... um ...."

"Compared to other women's," he prompted. The guy at the register was obviously listening intently.

"I don't know," I said softly, blushing beet red. "I've never been around other women."

Jay barked a laugh and dragged me to the nearest section of videos. He pointed to a couple of the covers. "Like hers?" he asked, "Or hers?"

I thought for a moment I was going to faint. I looked around at the various videos, and finally picked one that depicted a woman whose breasts looked the most like the ones I'd seen in the bathroom mirror every morning. I pointed silently and meekly, then found myself being pulled back to the display of clamps. He took his time picking one, looking from the cruel devices to my chest, as if he was trying to envision what they would look like. He finally chose one, and then another; one that didn't seem to make any sense (it had THREE clamps attached to chains that met in the center. I didn't have the voice to ask him how it was supposed to work).

"Do you have any money?" he asked, matter-of-factly.

I reached into my small purse and pulled out a credit card that Mommy had let me use the last time we'd gone shopping together. He snatched it out of my hand and walked to the register. But instead of checking out, he picked up a shopping basket and began walking around, snatching things from racks and display cases and tossing them unceremoniously into the tote. I took one look at the leering man behind the register and hastened to catch up, watching in horrified fascination as dozens of various and sundry obscenities, all obviously destined to be used on me (on me!) were added to Jay's growing collection.

There were vibrating things and massive phallic things (called, the sign proclaimed, "Dildos"), and lotions and lubricants (lubricants for what?), and a blindfold, and something that looked like a ball with a strap coming out of it (I couldn't begin to imagine what THAT was for), and another vibrating thing, and something called a "butt plug" (I gasped loudly at the thought of that one), and a coil of rope, and then he came to the handcuffs. He took great pleasure watching me as he carefully chose a pair, plopped it in the basket, and picked up another one which had a much longer chain connecting the two cold-looking metal cuffs. Next, it was back to the video section. He chose three of them rapidly: the one I had been so enthralled by, called "Beautiful Betty, Blissfully Bound," one called "Timid and Tied," and one called "The Story of 'O'." And finally, it was over to the huge book section, where he chose several distinguished looking paperbacks, which included such titles as "Lovingly Tied," "Helene Craves Humiliation," and "Master's Little Wench."

The expedition somehow found its way back to the cash register, where the leering guy looked at the credit card, asked to see my ID (thank God Ben had gone with me to get a drivers license!), and he rang up the whole bunch (casting a melting glance my way between each item) in surprisingly short order. $428 worth. He handed the card back to Jay, who handed it back to me.

"Would you like some personal instruction with these purchases?" the nasty man asked.

Jay ignored him and led me out of there. The air smelled especially sweet after that. I stood dizzily as Jay opened the trunk of his car. He shook a bunch of dirty, smelly clothes out of a small blue gym bag and transferred all of his purchases into it. He slammed the trunk, held my door as I silently got back into the car, and plopped the gym bag onto my lap. And then we were roaring back down the road again.

We stopped once more at a grocery store, but he made me stay in the car. He went in, leaving me alone with that gym bag in my lap, and in a very short period of time he was back with two bags full of food. I saw perhaps a dozen boxes of frozen entrees, and I tried desperately not to show any distaste toward his "quick and easy" cuisine. I also spotted a six-pack of beer and a bottle of liquor of some sort. And once again we were off down the highway.

As I think I mentioned before, I have an awful sense of direction, so I really have no earthly idea where the little house is. It wasn't that far from the horrible "adult" store, maybe a thirty minute drive, but I paid no attention to anything except the blue gym bag. I found myself trying desperately to remember every item Jay had purchased back there, and when I formed a picture of something in my overactive mind, I tended to fixate on it and imagine myself interacting with it the way Jay intended. We drove in silence, but my brain was screaming.

The small, yellow house was set back off the narrow country road at the end of a long, one-lane dirt driveway. It was sort of quaint, I guess, and I think I told him so when I saw it; but what I was really thinking was that it was very, very private. No one could hear me here. No one would possibly be able to find me. I was alone with him. Totally alone. Did I really trust him? Did I really love him?

He didn't say a word; just grabbed the groceries and walked toward the door, stopping when he got there and casting a quizzical look back in my direction when he'd gotten it unlocked. I got out of the car, and carrying the gym bag, followed him inside.

It was a very small house; maybe eight hundred square feet total. As he busied himself putting the food and drinks away, I wandered around, looking. Only one bedroom. One bathroom. Sort of a living room/dining room/kitchen combination, which was the largest room in the house. A small patio that was lost in tangled woods all around. It was clean, if a bit cluttered. A small table stood in one corner of the living room next to an old couch and served as a desk, supporting several stacks of papers.

He startled me when he came up behind me, and when I spun around, he kissed me again. I found I could do nothing with my hands because I was still holding the blue bag, and as he broke the kiss, he took it from me, rummaged in it a bit, and brought out a pair of the handcuffs. Before I could even think about it, he had ratcheted one of the cuffs onto my right wrist. Then he took the bag into the bedroom, leaving me alone to gaze in absolute and utter fascination at the thing dangling from my arm. It was strangely hypnotic. It spoke volumes of things to come. I wondered if my eyes looked at all like those of the woman on the cover of the video. I felt like her, or at least how I imagined she felt. Would Jay put those nipple clamp things on me? I wasn't totally helpless like the girl on the video. Not yet. I heard my heart pounding as Jay came back out of the bedroom. He had taken his shirt off, and he'd removed his shoes and socks. Oh God, things were happening quickly!

Without a word, he walked up to me and began unbuttoning my blouse. He pulled it roughly where it was tucked into my skirt, and there was an awkward moment when the hook at the other end of the handcuffs got caught as he took it off of me, but he managed to get it free. He left me standing there in the middle of the room as he went back into the bedroom (to hang it up in a closet, I guess), and I was alone in the strange room, feeling almost naked and very, very vulnerable.

blacknight99
blacknight99
1,129 Followers