Beartrap with Two Drinks

"Bedtime" Story for and about Grown-Up Little Nita

It was a dark and stormy night. When suddenly an idea shot out! Well OK, it wasn't exactly a new idea as far as the intent goes, but in this idea the method to my madness was novel, and if I could get points for creativity this method might work... The story goes something like this:

On this particular dark and stormy night, date night, we are both dressed well this evening, prim and proper, with you, Nita, in high-heeled Mary Janes that made your ample curves wobble delightfully. I take you out to one of our favorite restaurants with the big picture windows overlooking the valley to watch the lightning show from the ion clouds bumping into each other and spitting out sparks in large bolts crackling across the sky. You tend to jump every time lightning cracks loudly and squeeze me in fright, cuddling close to me. Truth is I honestly believe that you're not really that scared. You just like to use it as an excuse to cuddle close, show off your femininity, and stroke my ego as your protector. My biggest clue to that is that after most every loud crack, you lick my ear, and whisper to me, "Protect me Daddy." Regardless, I appreciate you serving my ego like that.

As we sit close to each other in the secluded booth finishing dinner, your hands start to roam across my lap knowing the effect that your whispers and licking my ear is what you intended as the napkin in my lap begins to rise. The waiter comes to offer us the desert menu after a delicious meal, but you turn him away quickly telling him that you will eat your dessert at home, and once he is out of earshot, you tell me so ever so romantic words, "Take me home so I could suck and fuck you." As you waited for an answer you battered your eyelids flirtatiously.

That's when I tell you, "Well, actually...," as you cross your arms across your heaving breasts, "I have different plans for tonight."

"And what could that possibly be!" you began one of your characteristic rants. "When a hot and horny lady like me tells you, that she wants to rock your world tonight, the least a horny old goat like you can do is comply! ... Wak, wak, wak...," I look down at the remote control I'm holding wondering how it got knocked into "Bitch" mode, as you continued on your tirade. I am of course referring to the remote that controls the two vibrating, small but powerful, Ben Wa balls I usually have you insert into your pussy, whenever we go out. The remote shows that it is still on lowest setting that I had originally placed it on, to keep your pussy on a low simmer for the evening. I turn the volume down of the vibrations until it is completely off (sort of wishing that I could turn the bitching off simultaneously). No sense wasting battery power while your rant runs its course.

Upon both of us noticing that many of the patrons of this fine dining establishment are watching you, I finally ask you, "Are you done yet?"

You look around sheepishly, too embarrassed to look anyone including me in the eyes. You quietly say "Yes," looking down red-faced, and then to show that you are back into your proper submissive mode you add, "Daddy." We pay quickly and leave.

As we drive away, I explain that we are going to meet some friends of mine. As curiosity is inherent in the nature of my sex kitten, you bombard me with questions. I hush you telling you that all will be revealed in due time and to be quiet. Finally, you are obedient, perhaps in penance for your earlier outburst, as we drive in blessed silence to our destination.

We arrive at a nice house and I knock on the door. An elderly gentleman, who looks a little familiar to you, answers smiling and lets us in. I greet him as William and introduce you as Nita. As William leads us into a large candle-lit living room with eclectic world music playing softly from hidden speakers, he and I immediately begin talking a mile a minute about politics and religion and other topics that are often confrontational and even though it is obvious that we are on opposite sides of the spectrum, our conversation is jovial. He sits us down on a comfortable leather couch in front of an ornate coffee table and then excuses himself saying, "Excuse me while I go pour us some wine. My wife, Missy was supposed to chill the wine hours ago. She is finishing getting ready to meet you and will be down here momentarily."

Once he disappeared into the kitchen, you are emboldened by our sudden privacy and immediately begin interrogating me with questions, "Who is this man? I think I might know him. Who is this Missy? How do you know these people? Tell me now Tom!"

I roll my eyes to the ceiling and say, "For a submissive you sure do give me a lot of sass."

At that you respond, "Yeah, well, I also give you a lot of ass, and I give you a lot of head, and I swallow with relish, so you're going to put up with my sass..."

At which point I threaten, "And I'm going to give your lot of ass a lot of a spanking if you don't behave..."

Determined to have the last word as William returns you close the conversation by saying, "Well, yeah, maybe that's what I want anyway," with a quick wink my way and a polite smile to William.

"Missy will be right out," William explains as he sets the tray down on the coffee table with four large long-stemmed glasses filled with red wine. He takes one, hands one to you and one to me. A quick obligatory toast to health with tasting and complimenting the taste of the wine and then William says, "Oh, let me show you the mantle of the fireplace here," as he leads us away from the coffee table, onto big bearskin rugs in front of a large fireplace with crackling embers. He drones on about the architectural detail of the fireplace, but you interrupt him to ask him about the polar bear rugs at your feet. He warns us to watch our step since the rugs are uneven and you were in high heels.

You respond, "Yes Sir, ... is it all right that we're walking on these?"

"Sure, no problem," he adds reassuringly. "These old bears have seen a lot... and that one," he points to the large head immediately behind you, right behind your high heels, "likes what is looking at which I guess is why his tongue is hanging out!" To add emphasis even licks his top lip. You look down to see the double reflection of your panty-less last butt, in the large glass eyes of the polar bear. You are about to move away when he warns you, "But careful with your wine, white rugs and red wine do not mix well together." You nod obediently like a schoolgirl to this elderly gentleman, shocked into silence by his authoritative instruction and confident lip-licking.

I try to come to the rescue with breaking the tension, awkwardly saying, "So have has anyone heard any good jokes lately?"

William seems momentarily stunned that I would ask such a cliché question. Your only thought was that he was in a stupor imagining what the polar bear is seeing, your bare butt.

"W -- Why, yes, uh," William made an obvious effort to break the ice by stammering out, "What's the difference between a girl who is bi," he paused and looked you in the eye, "as in bisexual, and a girl who is not bi?"

You groaned as I played along with William and I asked, "So what's the difference?"

"Two drinks," William concluded laughing loudly at his joke. I laughed along good-naturedly. Your response was far more muted. William might have misunderstood this as you misunderstanding the joke, so he added, "You see, two drinks..."

That did it. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. "You do NOT have to mansplain the joke to me!" you quickly interrupted.

You took a big swallow of your wine to wet your whistle in preparation of another rant reminiscent of your earlier one at the restaurant, when in from the kitchen just in time comes the almost musical call of, "Oh William!"

Like a boxer saved by the bell, William backed away. "Excuse me, Missy needs me," he said as he quickly disappeared into the kitchen.

Once he was gone you lit into me again, "That's the same stupid joke that you told me a few weeks ago when you were trying to "inspire" [you said in sarcastic imitation of me] my bisexual interest! That is certainly no random coincidence... besides I know that William from somewhere. What the fuck is going on?"

Your rant this time was about to become more animated as you try to step forward to get into my face but something prevented you. You looked down and launched into another string of WTF profanity with many choice words. I calmly said, "A lady refrains from profanity at all times except the in bedroom where she is allowed to be a slut."

My admonishing you had no effect in stopping you as you continued, "This horny old polar bear looking up my ass decided to take a bite out of my high heel. Damn beast has a high heel shoe fetish!"

I timidly said, "Relax Nita, your shoe is just tangled in the mouth of the polar bear. Here, hold my wine while I squat down and untangle your shoe."

You are on a roll and as you grab my drink in your one free hand, you look at the two drinks in your hand and exclaim, "And that horny old goat tries to explain to me, "you see, 2 drinks..." [again with an exaggerated imitation]. I'd like to throw these two drinks in his face!" After just a few seconds, your patience already expired you blurted out, "Do you see what's wrong yet?"

"No, not exactly," I answered promptly. I looked up to express my empathy to you at your awkward situation, but then got distracted by the view. "Butt Wow, I see why the polar bear has its tongue out."

OK so my timing in complimenting your delicious pussy and plump ass hanging out was not the best. The Queen was not amused. You were about to purposely spill each of the glasses of wine you were holding in each hand on me, when I held up my hands defensively from between your legs pleading, "Don't! They'll kill us. The red wine will stain the bearskin carpets!"

You took a big swallow of the wine to calm yourself. OK, at least you saw that your intended malice would be unnecessary wanton destruction of some very nice looking rugs and you leveled out the two glasses you were holding, and then added, "Geesh, I cater to most every silly fantasy your brain-damaged mind can think of and now suddenly here I am holding these two glasses of wine helpless like Jesus on the cross, while my high heel is stuck in the mouth of a pervert polar bear and Tom is making wise cracks about my woo-ah and cutie patootie hanging out!"

"It seems your high heel is really jammed into the polar bear's teeth," I explained the situation to you. "I might need a tool to free your high heel."

"Well Dick head," you insulted. "Go get yourself a fucking tool. And I'm not talking about the fucking tool between your legs. No pussy or your ass for you tonight!" You needed and quickly took another drink from your wine glass.

"OK, okay, well do you have your silver spoon?" I asked. "Maybe I could use that to pry your high heel loose."

"No, you idiot! Do you see any pockets on this dress? I might as well enjoy this wine tonight, because I am not going to enjoy any sex tonight and neither are you!" you explained with passion (or rather a lack of passion) as you slipped your wine and I looked you over. "Oh, stop looking! You've seen me in this dress enough, fuck, you've ripped it off me for enough Caveman sex with me to know that it doesn't have any pockets. After the last time you used your grandma's silver spoon to scoop up the cum off the facial you gave me, and feed it to me, I put it in my purse. It's in the car."

Scared, I quickly stuttered, "I-I'll get it", and ran away saying a final, "Be Right Back," as I disappeared out of sight.

As I left you to ponder your situation, you complained out loud to yourself, "I ought to store that damn spoon in my pussy with the Ben Wa balls as often as he feeds me cream pies from there with it." Then thinking more, you said, "Let me take a look myself at this fine mess that Tom got me into..." As you started bending over the sixth-sense that every woman has when her butt is on display started to go off, but you continued on, "I don't care if my spider senses are tingling, Mr. Polar Bear, you are going to get an eye full!" You saw that the polar bears teeth were indeed clamped down tight on the high heel, and thought to put the two wineglasses down to get closer for a better look but the polar bear rugs were indeed so uneven that if she would take either hand away from either glass, it would immediately topple over and spill the dark red wine onto the white polar bear. Even the coffee table, the fireplace mantle, and the even flat floor were too far out of reach. You tried a little jerk to free your foot from the Polar Bear's mouth, but that did not work. So, saying, "Big jerk," you put some muscle from your powerful legs into exactly that, but even the big jerk would not free your foot or even move the bearskin rug as the rug was taped or glued or screwed or some other way secured to the floor. You then applied the phrase "Big Jerk," "Idiot Dickhead," and other choice phrases to me since I obviously didn't think to take the wineglasses from your hand and put them on the coffee table, or even to just unbuckle your high heel strap so you could step out of the shoe, before I ran off. The two wineglasses were each too big to put both into one hand without spilling so you could unbuckle her high heel strap yourself. "Two drinks, yeah right!" You realized that you would have to drink the wine to prevent any from possibly spilling onto any of the rugs. "Wow, this is good wine! If Tom doesn't return soon, I'll finish his too. Hey, where is that Fuckhead? Brain-damaged idiot, how long does it actually take to search a purse only big enough for the silver spoon, my butt plug deluxe, some lube, and just a few other toys?" Expanding your lungs, putting even your heaving breasts on full display for the leering polar bears, you shouted "Oh Tom!", mimicking Missy's music prior call for William.

Your answer came almost immediately, because I knew the danger of keeping you waiting unnecessarily. "B-R-B" buzzed in Morse Code into your pussy Ben Wa balls. At least, the Ben Wa balls served a rudimentary practical purpose as a communication receiver which you were able to "read" clearly through your most sensitive pussy, you thought, taking another sip of the delicious wine. Tom must be very worried of you not receiving his assurances that he would return shortly, because he repeated the buzzes and pauses (equaling the dot / dashes) but this time with more intense vibrations, giving you a little smile as she continued to enjoy the wine. However, at the end of the last "B" the vibrations continued and intensified giving her waves of pleasure, that radiated outward to her arms causing even the wine to vibrate sympathetically. Suddenly, the lights went out. Lighting lit up the room through the window simultaneously.

"Oh Great! Now what?" Nita asked out loud. As if in response, a loud crack immediately suggested to you that a nearby lighting strike must have knocked out the electrical power. But the buzzing continued within your pussy telling you in no uncertain terms that I still had power.

Suddenly a tall shapely female figure sashayed into the room followed by a dramatic laser light show silhouetting her to you in the dark. The light show felt familiar to you although you never saw it from that angle. From continuing lightning strikes, you saw enough of her, for her revealed features to remind you of somebody much sterner, but then she in a gleeful bubbly voice announced, "Hi, I'm Missy."

You responded out of polite instinct, "Hi, I'm Nita, ... uh...I'm pleased to meet you," still very confused as to what was going on.

"I'm sure you are," she said as she reached into her hair and pulled out something long with a flat end about the size of a Lady Liberty silver dollar. You immediately feared... no it could not be that... and were relieved when flashes of lightning revealed it to be a peacock feather. "Now, let's see what we could do about your situation here" she said as she bent over to look at your high heel simultaneously throwing light show against the far wall that also revealed William to be standing near there. "Hey William, I know you're enjoying the view but I'm going to have to change it up again to get on my knees but you like that too... Oh and put on the lights."

Missy was already on her knees and out of your line of sight when William put on the lights. "Ah-ha, your problem is obvious," she said from beneath you. "You are stuck, so stuck," she added in her sing-song manner, as you suddenly felt the peacock feather tickle your thighs; "And so wet..." she teased. "William come take a look at this", and William came in big steps.

Tom stood back smiling an ear-to-ear grin. "Tom!" you pleaded, but I was busy "texting" you, "R-E-L-A-X". "Great," you whispered sardonically thought of the irony in having one of the few pussies in the world that could read Morse code but you really wanted to send me a "W-T-F" message. The problem was that with each letter of "R-E-L-A-X", she was, well, indeed relaxing in pure sexual enjoyment and simultaneously relaxing her grip on the wine glasses.

Suddenly, the "X" ended abruptly and she heard the strict order, "Don't you dare let that wine drop!" punctuated by the sharp crack of something painful against your butt.

"Yes, Sir," you instinctively blurted out. That was certainly know no peacock feather. It felt like... a riding crop.

"Sir!?" said Missy from behind your butt indignantly. "These tits feel like a "Sir" to you?" Missy shouted as she slapped her tits against the back of your thighs.

"Yes, Ma'am," Nita then felt teeth biting into her ass. Wrong answer. "I mean, no Ma'am." Missy then backs off a bit and taps the insides of your thighs with what has to be a riding crop, which you instinctively interpret as a demand that you spread your legs wider.

"That's better," Missy said. "Now you keep those classes level, we don't want any wine to fall on these bear rugs. That would make William real angry, and he becomes a real bear when he's angry." Then she lifts up your skirt... traces up the inside of one side to your pussy lips... stopping there to tease them with her riding crop or maybe it was a peacock feather, then traced down the inside of your other thigh. Oh, Missy was good in teasing Nita when she is trapped...

Yet, Nita was not exactly happy at being trapped in the first place and in a huff said, "Well, I could throw these wine glasses to that bump-on-a-log over there Tom without getting a single drop on your precious rugs. Look at him shrugging his shoulders with his hands up in the air pleading like an innocent idiot. Maybe one of these wine glasses would hit him in the head and knock some sense into it. He never did have much street smarts...Ouch! What the Fuck was that?!" It felt like a crack of lightning hit inside her pussy.

"It wasn't me!" Tom pleaded, waving his empty hands sans the remote in it. "I put my remote in my pocket. I have pockets in what I'm wearing."

"You will hold those glasses level. You will not throw them. You will not spill a drop. Do you understand the rules little Nita?" William said waving another remote.

"Tom! You hand out remote controls to my pussy like they were party favors?! Ouch!" Nita said to another zap to her pussy. "And fuck rule! Rules are made to be broken..."

"Enough of your attitude! You will keep a civil tongue." William said while administrating another zap to your pussy.

"My attitude?!" It was Nita's turn to be indignant. She stuck her tongue out at William, which of course earned her another zap. "I will have you know Tom loves my tongue!" Another zap.

"Tom! If I have to explain scorch marks in my pussy to my doctor, I'm going to kill you. Take care that "Joy Buzzer" away from Mr. Buzzkill there. I was just beginning to enjoy what Missy is doing back there." Missy had by then had her head completely underneath your dress, applying soothing licks to the bite marks and red spot where she administered discipline to the cheek of your butt before.