by Richard Janice ©
Trudy had been looking forward to this evening since yesterday. She had been invited to the party at her boss's country club on the West Side of town. She recognized George Wilson sitting at a table with a couple other pompous looking men across the room. Trudy could see he had been glancing at her with that certain look that indicates he is interested in her. He was so handsome, with his graying hair and mature demeanor. She was amused at how he would watch her, as he drank his champagne, sneaking a glance at her long, crossed legs under the table. She imagined his arms around her and wondered if he had gray hair on his chest as well.
Trudy playfully uncrossed her long, tanned legs, giving the Mr. Wilson a fleeting glimpse of her tiny pussy, just barely visible under her sheer, peek-a-boo, pink panties. The filmy nylon flashed brightly, under the tight, blue, spandex mini-skirt she wore.
She could feel a warm dampness developing in her pussy along with a tightness in her pelvis, as she allowed the hem of her skirt to slowly, ride up high on her slightly tanned thighs. As she lifted her leg up off the chair, the soft, white skin of her inner thigh would flash at the older man, while the tight band of spandex slid up her leg on its way to her pink panties.
She then slowly uncrossed her long legs, allowing the short, spandex strip to ride even higher on her bare thighs, exposing again the tiny crack of her swollen pussy beneath the filmy, pink strip of her panties.
Trudy deliberately walked slowly, swaying her narrow hips, toward Mr. Wilson. The little band of spandex hugged the tops of her slim legs around her peek-a-boo panties. She turned, just as she approached the table.
"Hi, Mr. Wilson, how are things going at the office?" Trudy asked coyly.
Standing next to the strange men at the table, she faced Mr. Wilson. Trudy was aware that his face was level with the hem of her little skirt, just inches away from her barely covered pussy. He had a temptingly, revealing view of her soft, tanned thighs, all the way up to her progressively dampening pussy.
Trudy flushed as she wondered if Mr. Wilson could see up her skirt to her pussy. Mr. Wilson looked at Trudy's strikingly trim figure and gazed at her soft, tanned thighs as she stood in front of him at the table.
"She was really something." Wilson thought. "What a beautiful pair of legs. And, the little tease doesn't mind showing them off either." He thought, as he caught a glimpse if the transparent, pink nylon covering her pussy.
"Hmm, If that skirt was any shorter, I could see her panties." Wilson said to himself.
As Mr. Wilson looked up towards Trudy's face, his eyes stopped at her big, bubbly tits encased in her tight, blue sweater. He gazed at her full, heaving breasts as she spoke to him. Mr. Wilson mentally undressed her, imagining her naked, standing before him.
"It was so nice to see you again, Mr. Wilson." she cooed.
Trudy said good-by to him and excused herself. She made her way out of the room toward the telephone located in the foyer behind the tables. She knew Mr. Wilson was watching her, and giggled softly, realizing that the tight, spandex mini-skirt had now, climbed up to her little, peek-a-boo, panties.
Wilson watched the petit, blond girl in her high heels and little mini-skirt as she made her way to the phone. Wiggling her cute, little, spandex wrapped ass as she walked, her soft, blond hair swayed gracefully, his eyes followed her into the foyer, occasionally seeing a glint of her little ass cheeks, peeking through the filmy panties. He waited a couple minutes and excused himself to use the bathroom. He left for the foyer and found Trudy on the telephone.
Wilson's cock was getting hard, anticipating the prospect of making love to this pretentious little beauty. When she got off the phone, he made his move and tapped her on the shoulder. As she turned around, her firm breasts brushed along his chest, thrilling him, as he felt her erect nipples brush against him.
"Trudy, you are quite beautiful this evening." he told her, surprised by the heat generated by the scraping of her nipples against him. Wilson looked down at her firm breasts straining beneath the tight sweater. Since she didn't have on a bra, he could see the outline of her large nipples poking out against the thin fabric. His cock was erect now and strained against his trousers. Trudy's eyes glanced toward the now quickly growing bulge in his pants. "Let me get you a drink."
"This guy, seemed to be nice enough." She thought, as she noticed the promising bulge in his pants get larger, while he stared at the full cleavage popping out of her sweater.
"I'm glad I didn't wear a bra tonight." She thought as she arched her back slightly, forcing her firm breasts against her thin sweater. She stepped a little closer touching the bulge of Mr. Wilson's cock with her soft belly. Then, leaning against him, his hard cock pressed to her, she whispered, "I would like that Mr. Wilson. I'll meet you at my table if that's ok."
The feel of his bulging member pressing against her lower stomach excited her, as she stood close to Mr. Wilson. She could feel more moistness building up deep inside her pussy. Wilson put his hands on her tiny waist and pushed her away telling Trudy that he would be back momentarily. Then he turned and went to fetch the drinks.
Trudy slowly regained consciousness, confused and aware of the large gap in her memory. What DID happen after she passed out? Trudy remembered only the pleasant-voice of George Wilson who had caught her seconds before she blacked out. Her vision seemed as hazy as her memory, but she was increasingly aware of the odd position of her limbs. Perhaps she had broken both legs, for they seemed to be propped far above her as she lay on the bed, as if she were in traction. Her arms were pinned above her, and a gentle tug did not free her wrists from whatever force held them there. Trudy shook her head, puzzled. Her ankles were propped so high that her ass was off the bed, and the small of her back swung above the sheets. What kind of hospital put its patients in such strange positions? And what had happened to put her in the hospital, anyway?
Trudy now became aware of the tight belt that cinched her already-small waist in several inches. When she tried to squirm from side to side, it held her somehow, as if it might be fastened to something. Just as she began to panic at her continued inability to clear her vision, she heard approaching footsteps, and then the room sprang into brilliance! The lights had been dimmed, and she now discovered, a soft scarf draped over a framework above her face to delay her recognition of her surroundings. She could see through the scarf, in a blurred fashion, and she saw two men enter the room. She also discovered, to her shock and dismay, that she was naked! Her ankles were fastened widespread to the bottom posts of a tall four-poster bed, and her wrists closer to the bed on the top posts. A wide black leather strap bit into the up-tilted curve of her waist, and a cord led from each side of the cinch to the bottom posts of the bed. The men stopped at the bottom of the bed, just to her left. One she could see was the Mr. Wilson from the office and the other was a tall, thin younger man. Why were they here? Why was she? Trudy felt the raw edge of panic in her again, and fought to keep it down. She would need all her wits to keep from going insane.
Wilson spoke, not to her, but to the other man. "You see, Carl, this position provides access to all the appropriate areas, except, of course, the back. She is entirely vulnerable to anything, from fucking to..."
Carl chuckled softly. "So when do we begin?"
The older man smiled. "So impatient -and there is no need. She is not going anywhere, are you, my dear?" His hand stroked gently down the inside of her thigh, just below the knee. Trudy tried to squirm away from his touch, but was able only to twist her shoulders and head about on the bed.
"You see what I mean, Carl? A perfect blackboard for the teacher." And he and Carl laughed again, the kind of laugh that indicates no amusement for anyone but those laughing. "I'm looking forward to these lessons, George," said the younger man. "When do we begin?"
"We already have." came the quiet answer, as the man's hand continued to stroke the Trudy's leg in the same intimate way.
"The key to sensual pain is timing." Wilson's hand never ceased its gentle strokes. Trudy gasped in fright nonetheless - what in heaven were they planning? "You see, her apprehensions have awakened," the older man continued.
"This is essential - once the fear comes in, the senses are aroused to their fullest. THAT is the key to her passion!"
Even through the scarf, Trudy could see that the man's expression was not cruel, but his words were terrifying! With no way to escape, adrenaline was making her shake and her heart thump alarmingly. Her fright merely increased as she saw the thin strip of plastic Mr. Wilson now raised. The thing was about two feet long, and approximately the width of a pencil. It was slightly flattened, however.
"This is a very useful cane," said Wilson. "It's the material used for boning bras and such now, very whippy and light, but impossible to break." And without any further words, he cracked the thin strip against the thigh he had been stroking!
Trudy shrieked, and jerked against her bonds helplessly, unable to escape the pain. She could see the white slash of flesh turning red as the whip-mark developed.
"Now, the novice would hit her again, right away - probably on the other thigh. Isn't that what you would do?" Carl shook his head. "That's a sucker question! You just told me no - now tell me why not." " Timing, as I said before. What you want to do is wait until her breathing slows, and the skin has a chance to recover from the blow. THEN!" and a second blow landed just below the mark of the first, on the same thigh. "Then, she will feel ALL of the next stroke, and move that much closer to her transformation."
Trudy struggled desperately for breath, not really hearing the man's words. Her panic filled her, but it had no avenue except her throat. She thrashed her head back and forth, and fought the confinements of her bonds, to no avail.
The lesson continued until Trudy hung limp in the ropes, and the insides of both thighs were criss-crossed with red marks. The expertise of the older man made sure she was still conscious and fearful, awaiting the next "lesson".
Trudy's thighs seemed to be on fire. She gasped as the older man, Wilson, stroked the heated flesh gently. "You see, Carl, all the nerves are awake now. She thinks what she feels here is pain, but that will change." He continued the soothing stroking motion, and gradually, despite her fear and the pain in her skin, Trudy began to feel the tickling of arousal.
"Now you will see the advantages of this position more clearly, because I think it is time for some fucking." Mr. Wilson's casual statement caused Trudy's thighs to tighten in protest, sending a new wash of pain over her - but also increasing her excitement. She was dismayed to feel the lubrication start in her pussy.
Carl looked at the older man uncertainly. "Which one of us is going to fuck her?"
"Oh, both of us eventually - but you will start us off tonight." The sound of the two men discussing her casually over her bound and helpless body made Trudy feel more frightened, and at the same time, more aroused. She was as helpless to understand these new feelings as she was to escape her bonds. Still, she tried, succeeding only in creating a feeling of discomfort in her wide-spread, whipped thighs, and a fresh flow of juices in her vulnerable pussy.
Carl began to remove his trousers, but was halted by Wilson. "Leave the pants on - just unzip the fly and haul out your cock."
"Why?" Wondered the younger man.
"There's a certain element of mastery in your being totally dressed and her being totally exposed as she is." The words awakened a quivering sense of humiliation in Trudy that somehow heightened her excitement. She watched dimly through the scarf as Carl hauled an enormous-seeming cock out of his trousers. Despite that, she was unprepared for the sensation of its swollen head pressing against her pussy. She began to fight the bonds again, shrieking in protest if not in pain, but of course her struggles had no outcome - the man's cock sank deep into her, and the coarse weave of the cloth (and probably the zipper teeth as well) ground against her sensitized flesh. What she felt was definitely pain - but the swelling of her pussy, and the copious moisture inside her testified to other sensations as well. Somehow, Trudy was being turned on. With no other outlet for her adrenaline, she was feeling more aroused than she ever had before. The excitement of struggle and fear had been translated to sexual excitement, and she felt her struggles changing, too. Now she tried to grind her flaming pussy harder against the man's cock as he fucked her. In this, she was no more successful than in her earlier attempts to escape.
Trudy had in common with her fellow females a need for extensive arousal before she would orgasm. It was not surprising that Carl came in her before her own spasm could build. The withdrawal of the now-spent man came as a shock almost as painful as the earlier whipping. She screamed her protest.
Mr. Wilson was nodding his head approvingly. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to pull you off - that's a critical part of her training, you know, sexual arousal, then denial. She's come a long way tonight - not ALL the way, but quite far. We'll let her rest now, and you and I will go have a drink. You look like you could use one." And the two men left the room, snapping off the light as they went.
Trudy was wild with need, and her bondage did not permit even the slightest relief. She could only hang limp in the cords and wish with all her heart that the men would return. She did not realize, but that was the purpose of the "lesson" she had just been through.
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