The Addicted Natural Ch. 05

When he returned, he walked behind me, positioned my hands at the small of my back, and fastened them together. At last, I was bound. Was it everything I'd been hoping for these past 45 minutes? I heard a zipper, and it took me a second to realize that it was my skirt, which was now loose and sliding down over my hips. He snaked his arm around my bare midriff to hold me steady as he held the garment down around my ankles, and I just naturally lifted first one foot and then the other as he finished removing it. Then he was gone again, back to the bedroom to hang up the skirt, and I shivered at the feel of the warm air caressing my bare skin. He walked right past me when he came back, though, and I turned to watch as he went into the kitchen and came back with a very big, mean-looking knife.

He held it in front of me and I made a little noise, but he put a finger gently to my lips, and I was silent for the moment. He looked at me intently, his eyes drinking in my heaving chest, my frightened eyes, then my whole body again. He kissed me gently on the forehead, and raised the knife and cut one of my bra straps. He watched me again for a long moment, and then cut the other one. I made another little whimper, but he ignored it. He walked around me as I stood there, stretching the moment out, and finally I felt him pulling on the back supporting strap of the bra as he sliced through that one as well, and the whole thing, under tension, flew forward off my chest and fell into a worthless pile of shredded cloth on the floor. He walked back around and stood in front of me again, raking me with his hungry eyes, especially my breasts, which were rising and falling with every jagged breath.

"Very nice," he said softly.

"They're too big," I replied in a very small voice, but again he silenced me with a finger to my lips.

"You are not to speak unless I ask you a question," he said sternly. This would be the first of a whole weekend's worth of rules. I would remember them all, however. I remember them to this day.

He sliced off the panties, too, though there was really no reason to do so except to emphasize the finality of their destruction. He knelt and supported me again with an arm around my buttocks as he removed my sandals, and left me naked (oh, so totally naked!) as he put them away with the rest of my clothes. He took a metal folding chair from the dining area and set it behind me, then sat me down so that my arms were behind its back, my back and butt pressed almost entirely into its cold metal surface. Next, he set to work cutting lengths of the soft nylon rope and tying my ankles and knees the chair, spreading my legs obscenely. He also looped part of the rope through the handcuffs, though I couldn't see how, stretching my arms downward, so that I was really, really (finally, totally) helpless. He could do anything to me now. Anything. And now, as he bent to kiss me after surveying his handy work from every angle, he let his hands roam freely across my breasts, rubbing, pressing, tweaking, pinching, caressing, squeezing.

He put his tongue in my mouth. I didn't know how to react, but that didn't seem to make any difference. My body reacted for me, and I found myself gasping and moaning into his open mouth as my torso jerked and heaved against his hands. His touch became a catalyst that made my body move and feel and strain without any sort of input from my brain whatsoever. Every time he pinched one of my nipples, I made a little noise that mixed somehow into the tangle of lips and tongues; but when he took a nipple between thumb and forefinger and rolled it back and forth, back and forth, I groaned very loudly. He finally broke the kiss, laughed delightedly, and slid one hand lower across my quivering abdomen and between my legs as he kept up the delightful rolling motion to my nipple with his other.

Jay's finger slid very easily inside my vagina, which made me shiver uncontrollably. "Why are you so wet?" he asked, teasingly.

"I don't know," I managed to mutter, almost a whisper. I'd sometimes found myself moist "down there" when I woke up in the morning, but I never really thought about why.

"This is your cunt," he said, a teacher to a slow student. "Say it, please."

"That is my cunt," I whispered obediently, quivering all over.

"And this is your clit," he said, in the same tone.

He rubbed his palm along the length of my dripping opening, scraping it cruelly across my little button near its top. I jerked so violently that the chair came entirely off the floor and made a metallic clang as it landed again. "Ahhhh!" I screamed, shaking spastically and trying frantically to understand what was happening.

"Say it!" he intoned, plunging his fingers (two of them this time ... at least, I think it was two ... it felt like two) back into my "cunt." "What is it?"

"It's a .... AHHHHH!" I screamed again as his palm slid again across the little troublemaker.

He began rubbing his hand up and down, up and down, faster and faster across the offending clit as he continued to assault my right nipple by rolling it unmercifully between his thumb and finger. "Say it!" he hissed into my ear. "Say it!"

"It's my ... Ahhhh! My cl – Ahhhh! Cl – cli – cli – AHHHHH!" And suddenly something very strange happened to me. I didn't realize that I had been pulling on the handcuffs, but when "it" happened, I jerked upward with my bound wrists so hard that my whole body (chair firmly attached) nearly twisted out of his grip. He had to let go of my abused nipple and wrap his free arm around me to keep me from careening across the small room. I clearly felt the muscles of my newly dubbed "cunt" contract over and over again unbidden, and a magnificent tingle ran throughout my naked being. I swear I felt it in my toes!

He finally stopped rubbing, but persisted in his harsh questioning. "What just happened?" he asked.

"I don't know," I gasped, my chest heaving. "Was that an orgasm? Did I have an orgasm?" I'd heard about it. I'd read about it. I'd always assumed "it" only happened when a man stuck his thingy into a girl. That's what it looked like in the few "R" rated movie videos I'd seen, though of course, they hadn't actually shown that particular aspect of it. Had it finally happened to me? Just by touching?

"You came, you slut," he responded. "I pinched your tit, and fingered your cunt, and rubbed your clit, and made you cum. Say it!" He started rolling my other nipple between his thumb and finger.

"You pinched my ... um ... tit, and fingered my c – cunt, and rubbed my – OH!– my cli – clit, and made me cu – cum," I stammered.

"Very good," he said, letting go of me completely. I thought it was over, but to my astonishment, he walked around in front of me, knelt between my splayed legs, and cruelly spread the lips of my cunt apart using the fingertips of each hand. Then quickly, amazingly, he jammed his face into me and started licking.

I was still shaking from the "cum" I'd just experienced, but this feeling was so utterly foreign and unexpected that it was all I could do not to break rule number one and scream "What in God's name are you doing?" My body was literally catapulted back into an orgasm much more violent than the one before. He let go of my cunt lips to wrap his arms around my legs and the chair as it heaved and bumped and scraped on the hardwood floor. When he finally stopped licking, and when I finally stopped coming, and when he finally got to his feet and stood over me, I found that I didn't even have the strength to look up. I truly thought I was about to pass out. The room was spinning wildly before my eyes.

"You're a fucking slut, Dee," he said matter-of-factly. "Say it."

"Fu – fuck – fucking slu- slut," I muttered between heaving breaths.

He stood looking at me for the longest time. I couldn't seem to keep my head from lolling. Finally, he began untying my ankles and knees, and I felt the tension on my wrists slacken. He stood me up, but had to keep a firm grip on my elbows to keep me from falling.

"Are you ready to become a woman, Dee?"

I looked into his eyes, questioningly. This was it. This is what I'd been waiting for all my life. I tried to nod my head, but I don't know if I moved it the way I'd intended. He sort of half led me – half dragged me into the bedroom, and for the first time, I notice that each of my ankles was dragging a length of the soft rope. I was still tied, yet free. He unlocked my hands and dropped the cuffs on the floor, then he rummaged through the blue bag again and came out with the other pair (the one with the longer chain connecting the two halves), and I stood meekly as he bound me again. Now, though the chain ran behind my back, still connecting my hands, my arms were able to hang straight down by my sides. I gave a little "eeek" as he literally picked me up and threw me onto the bed.

He positioned me on my back and methodically began tying each of the ends of the loose ropes to the bedposts, splaying my legs. The chain from the handcuffs felt uncomfortable, pressing into the lower part of my buttocks, my arms firmly trapped at my sides.

He put on a little show for me, I think, really taking his time removing his pants, then finally his underwear. I don't really know what I was expecting. He wasn't as big as the pictures I'd seen on the video covers in the sex store, but he looked very hard and his prick (he made me call it a "prick") pointed almost straight up toward the ceiling. He walked up so that it was level with my eyes and let me get a good look at it, and after a little while, he put his hand behind my head, bent his prick down with the other, and pulled me toward it, telling me to put it in my mouth. I parted my lips without hesitation, and he pushed it in. I didn't really like the taste of it, but it wasn't too bad, and I wanted desperately to please him. Trussed up the way I was, I had very few ways of doing that other than tacitly obeying him. I think he enjoyed it until he pushed it in too far and I started gagging as he hit the back of my throat. I've always gagged pretty easily (I have to drink a lot of water just to get a pill down), and after a few moments he relented when it became evident that I might throw up. He looked very disappointed, and I felt worthless and useless. I started to apologize after I got the coughing under control, but he rather harshly reminded me of rule number one, and I fell miserably silent.

Next, to my astonishment, he began massaging my breasts and clit again. I didn't know what to do, but then, of course, there was absolutely nothing I COULD do, and I soon felt myself spiraling back upward toward yet another big orgasm. He suddenly stopped however, positioned himself between my bound legs, and began rubbing his prick up and down the length of my cunt. It was very slippery, and it felt wonderful. If he kept doing that just a little longer ... just a little longer ... but he ceased abruptly and began pushing it inside of me.

Now, I guess this is the moment that is indelibly etched into the memory of every woman, though I suppose you could call my situation a little out of the ordinary. I distinctly remember expecting it to hurt, and it did, I suppose, but in a much different way than I thought it would. I guess I would liken it to having your fingers stretched too far apart. "Stretch" is a good word for it. I was being stretched too far, or at least my cunt was. It went in easily enough, but the walls of my insides were being forced to accommodate something that was just too big. It was over very quickly, or at least I thought it was over, as his pubic hair was suddenly grinding into my own and our bodies were pressed firmly together from groin to shoulders. I tried desperately to reach up and hold him, but my hands could go no higher than my own hips.

He lay against me like that for a long minute, and then began drawing out of me. Had he cum? I hadn't felt anything. But after rising only a few inches, he thrust down, back deep inside of me. He wasn't through at all ... he was just beginning. It was a motion I was going to get used to, and one I was going to get to like, despite my bashful innocence. He would later tell me how much he liked pumping in and out of me, but I felt more of a "filling and emptying" deep inside me rather than just "pumping." I was stretched painfully to admit him then felt almost lonely when he pulled away. He did this over and over again, probably twenty times, before he made a sort of surprised, shouted noise and his whole body stiffened. I felt his cock sort of lurch inside me, jerking a little up and down, though he stayed buried in my cunt as far as he could, and somehow I felt a great sense of accomplishment. I had pleased my man sexually. He had cum inside of me.

He lay heavily on top of me and I longed to hold him, but could not. He panted heavily from the exertion, and after a long minute, he pushed himself up with his hands and looked smugly down at me. I couldn't help but notice that his prick had gotten small, and was threatening to slip out of me.

"You're a woman, Dee," he said, as if he were a salesman congratulating a new client. "How do you feel?"

"I love you," I said, looking into his eyes and desperately trying to convince myself that this was true. It had to be true. It MUST be true.

He barked a short laugh, which hurt much more than any physical assault, but he threw me into an indescribable state of mind by saying "I love you, too, Dee," and then he got up off of me and went into the bathroom.