From Jeannie to Vanessa Ch. 01

Whoever the hell was doing this knew what they were doing -- I would never have been able to get enough leverage to fight back very effectively. And now, to the growing pile of hardware dedicated to this "fantasy" and used on me, I could add a leather-backed blindfold, four leather cuffs, chains and (presumably) locks of some kind. Did Jack rob a bank? Or maybe just an adult toy store? The last thought made me try to giggle, which reminded me just how effectively the ball-gag had me silenced!

I wondered just how Jack would strip me, for it was obvious that I was about to get fucked. Pantyhose and panties make a pretty formidable obstacle for the typical backseat groping session; however, it was quite plain to me that we were well beyond THAT and that my clothes were likely to get ripped and torn tonight. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to get home in tatters, but I hoped Jack (Jack?) had thought of that since he had obviously thought of most everything else!

I didn't have long to wait. My skirt was lifted up in front and my assailant began to do something that involved pulling on the seam of the pantyhose where the leg joined the crotch. Pretty soon I figured out that he was cutting the hose with a knife or razor and making his own "poor girl's garter belt and stockings" out of my pantyhose by essentially cutting the reinforced crotch out of the hose. This took a little maneuvering and lifting of my ass to get at the back. I figured all he needed was access to my pussy, but he seemed determined to cut the material almost to the rear waistband.

The next move, of course, was to rid me of the remains of those troublesome (and soaked) panties. That didn't take much effort -- a quick cut from the leg openings up through the waistband and they were pulled away from my now-naked nether regions. I noted -- as did my assailant, confirmed with two (ungloved) fingers shoved roughly into my exposed pussy -- that I was dripping wet. I was being whipsawed back and forth between terror, anger, and excitement so fast that I wasn't sure what I was feeling from minute to minute. One thing was for sure, however; my pussy wasn't confused, it was digging the whole experience in spades.

Next up was to get at those boobies, I thought, and I was not wrong. My blouse was unbuttoned instead of being ripped or cut off but the bra underneath was quickly sacrificed to the knife. Rough hands squeezed, twisted and pinched my breasts and nipples, quickly replaced by lips and teeth that felt like they were surrounded by a beard (did Jack have a beard? Suddenly I couldn't remember). My assailant seemed to have dispensed with the ski mask, which made sense since I had been either hooded or blindfolded since the beginning of this experience.

So at this point my pussy was soaked and my nipples were stiff and extended -- I figured a quick pronging was next on the menu. But I was wrong. I thought rapists were supposed to be short-order guys, but I had apparently encountered a French chef-style assailant. He continued to suck, nibble and play with my nipples until they were beyond hard. Then, he took some kind of thin cord (dental floss maybe?) and wrapped it around the base of each nipple, like little sexy tourniquets. It wasn't really painful, but certainly unexpected. Then he put a clothespin (I think) on each of these engorged nipples. That fucking hurt! At least, it did at first.

After a few moments it became more bearable, although with each movement of my upper body I could feel the weight of the pin moving around and exerting different kinds of pressure on the nipple. It would hurt for a few seconds when it moved, then the pain would subside, then hurt again...well, you get the picture.

I was heavily distracted by this continuing cycle, so much so that I was genuinely surprised when I felt a weight shift the mattress around me and a thick cock part my outer labia. I didn't have a lot of time to consider what was going on because that dong drove all the way into me with the very first stroke. Believe me, it went fucking DEEP! I certainly didn't remember Jack's cock being quite so thick or long, but I figured it was just the violence of the assault. The bastard rode me deep and hard and of course my body whipped up and down on the mattress to the limits of my chains, meaning there was a LOT of movement of the clothespins and very little time for each painful moment to subside before the next one followed it. It was crazy hot and my body was eating it up although my brain was far behind.

In short order (little humor there) I began to feel the orgasm building. Normally this was a slower process, involving lots of foreplay, deep kissing, fondling, and slow, delicious penetration. This was coming on more like a freight train, with me chained spread-eagle on the tracks. Suddenly, I felt the clips come off my nips and the cord rapidly unwound from the bases of same. The blood and feeling returned with a vengeance and the top of my head blew off (metaphorically speaking). I exploded like some sort of literal blonde bombshell and promptly passed out.

Now I mentioned before that I was known for little blackout sessions; Jack usually brought me back to life with a little honest-to-God resuscitation. When no such action was performed, Jack had told me I usually came to my senses within a short time, no more than few minutes at most.

Came to I did, and I was in the same position as before, spread-eagled on the bed with arms and legs tightly secured and with chest and crotch exposed. There was something different, though. I could feel my naked butt was on something that felt a little rougher...like a towel? And there was DEFINITELY something strange going on around my pussy...a scraping, tingling feel, then some soothing cream rubbed onto...my BARE PUSSY! I was being shaved! Holy crap! This was beyond our usual fantasy stuff, this couldn't be fixed with clean clothes and a bath and fresh makeup! I mean, I didn't usually take showers with anyone (other than Jack) so there was little risk of exposure but HOLY FUCK! Girls like me didn't SHAVE THEIR PUSSIES! When I realized what was going on it's a wonder I didn't hurt myself, either by yanking at my chains or by getting cut by the shaving razor while I convulsed my whole body. I figured it must be a razor since I didn't hear anything buzzing and clearly the deed was already done.

A little cleanup, some more of the soothing cream and voila! Jeannie in her new career as stripper at your service! I was fucking STEAMED! Now you 21st century girls, stoked by all the nudity on the internet, can roll your heavily-shadowed eyes all you want. This was a BIG FUCKING DEAL to me. I wondered if Jack was planning to put me to work walking the street!

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your perspective) there wasn't much I could do, or even say. I mmmphed uselessly and struggled just as uselessly. I guess it didn't matter much anyway, because as I said, the deed was already done.

Just as I was beginning to spin down a little, I clearly heard Jack's voice say, in a low tone, from several feet away, "My turn." A low grunt replied.

At that moment, you could have played me like a fiddle, I was strung that tight. There was really someone else there!!! Holy shit! Someone else had groped me, fucked my mouth AND my pussy, and NOW it was Jack's turn???

At that moment, to use one of Jack's more colorful phrases, I didn't know whether to shit or go blind. As had been made painfully obvious in the last few minutes, I couldn't effectively do either. I was already blind and well...you know. Another weight shifted the mattress around me, and once again a cock parted the lips of my already-well-fucked but now smoothly-shaved pussy. I was determined not to enjoy it this time, just to pay Jack back for the whole mess he had dragged me into. Jack obviously wasn't going to take the time to do more tying or pinching of nipples, since he apparently figured I was already "well-primed." And, as it turned out, he was right.

Jack didn't slam me like the other assailant had done. He slowly worked his stiff cock into me, gently easing in and out. There was something...something about his movements, against the lips of my freshly denuded pussy...I couldn't tell if the other cock had actually been bigger or not. My mind was a falling climber desperately grabbing for handholds -- was it really just Jack all along? He told me he loved me! We were planning to get married! Surely he wouldn't have given me me to another man? His pubic hair crushed against the bare skin of my freshly shorn pussy and the feeling was crazy!

Against my will, I began to slip the bonds of anger and fear and once again melt into the familiar, delicious feeling of making love with Jack. My resolution to fend off the tendrils of lust that were smoking up from my pussy began to melt rapidly away. He continued to thrust his cock in and out of me. I felt his chest crush my breasts and his arms snaked under my outstretched arms and around my neck. He began to kiss my neck and nibble on my ears.

Once again my disloyal body began to respond in the usual way. He was definitely taking it slow, not like he was building up to an orgasm himself...as if he had already recently ejaculated. Was it really Jack who thundered a load of cum into my throat earlier? Had this all been a cleverly designed ruse just to keep me off balance?

My mind began to find a few handholds...and they started feeling a little more secure when he whispered "I love you, Jeannie," directly into my left ear.

The slow thrusting in and out of my astonishingly wet pussy, the incredibly sensual feel of his pubic hair rubbing against my newly bared flesh, the hugs, the kissing, and oh the sweet, sweet words allowed me to let go of my uncertainty and to simply enjoy the sensations. My arms and legs were stretched out and secured but not uncomfortably so; the blindfold merely denied my eyes a chance to see a face that I knew well and would soon see anyway; even the gag that kept me silent only added to my submissive posture beneath him, a fantasy we had often enacted before, albeit not quite so realistically.

Soon my hips got into the rhythm. As restricted as my movement was, I could still love him back. And I did. I could feel the orgasm building from miles away. It traveled more slowly, this time, not like the freight train that had hit me when the other man (it had to have been Jack! my heart insisted) had so cruelly toyed with my nipples and then hammered my pussy like he was driving a railroad spike. And build it did. Jack began to move in me harder and faster; he was still not tensed up like he would be when he was about to cum (that's because he already did! my brain cried) and so I relaxed into my own pace. When my orgasm did arrive, it was still suitably volcanic. I tried my best to call out the things I would usually have said at that moment but the ball-gag once more defeated me. And true to recent form, I passed out again.

I came to in a different position this time. I was still secured, spreadeagled on the bed, but face down. My head was turned to the right, but the blindfold was still on so little had changed in that regard. One thing I noticed quickly is that my hips were raised on something soft, a pillow perhaps. What the hell? Again, remember when and where we were. I had no fucking clue of what was about to take place. But I didn't have long to wait to find out.

The first thing that happened was "ten of the best" you might say. I would have screamed but, you know, I was gagged. It didn't stop me from trying, though. Each time the (whip? belt? paddle?) bit into my tender and heretofore unmarked ass-flesh I flinched as far away as I could, which of course was no-fucking-where at all. And it wasn't done in a hurry; there was a noticeable pause between each blow. Now Jack had spanked me a few times as part of one of our fantasy games, but this, as the Monty Python characters would say, was something completely different. By the end, I was sobbing. I could feel my tears leaking out under the material of the blindfold.

Suddenly a book title came unbidden into my head, something Jack had read and gave me a copy to read also...Story of O, by Pauline something. Oh my God, I thought, here we go. There was more coming. And I didn't have very long to wait. A hand began to gently smooth cream over the fresh welts, soothing the pain a little (sweet, I thought) but then the hand moved to push something that felt very similar to that cream into and around my anus, making sure it was well-lubricated. Oh holy shit. When I read about that in the book I didn't think people did it for real. I mean, homosexual guys apparently did it, and people in books, obviously, but southern college students?

Oh holy shit. I guess I was about to find out. First a finger, then another, spread my tight virginal asshole. It didn't hurt, exactly, it felt, well, different, in a way that was hard to describe. Then I felt the weight coming back onto the bed. I couldn't help it, I began to tense up.

A face came close to my right ear and Jack's voice whispered, "Try to relax! It will be easier!"

How the fuck would he know? My mind spun off into the possible answers to that question for a moment and then was rapidly drawn back to the present when I felt a blunt, fleshy object pushing against my little well-lubed rosebud. I quickly remembered his admonition to "relax" and did my best to do exactly that. And it did help. There was definitely some "discomfort" (as a doctor would say) but it wasn't so bad. I could clearly feel the instant that the head of his cock popped through the tight ring of resistant muscle. Then, inexorably, the rest of Jack's not-inconsiderable shaft was pushing into my ASS. It really didn't hurt that much, it just felt really weird. I was consoled somewhat by the fact that it WAS Jack. Jack hadn't been the first man I gobbled cock for, but he had been my first full-blown screw and now was taking my anal virginity as well. I figured my ass must be pretty tight on him, because he was taking it REALLY slow and easy. That made it easier for me as well.

I started, actually, kind of enjoying it. It certainly wasn't the same feeling as regular pussy-fucking (the ass has no clit) but, as I had discovered earlier I was getting into the helpless feeling of being bound. Make no mistake; whether I enjoyed it or not, it was happening. There was no "pretend" about the leather and chains holding me down, and there had been no "pretend" about the knife that cut away my pantyhose and underthings. There had definitely been no "pretend" about the razor that shaved my pussy (I could feel the inside of said organ getting wet again) or the strap or whip that had struck my sweet cheeks. As I felt Jack reach the full depth of his cock and felt his heavy balls slap against my bare labia, I was reminded of the violence of his assault on my mouth and throat.

My pussy began getting even wetter! Holy crap, what was I turning into? Jack withdrew his cock almost out of my ass and then plunged back to the hilt, a little faster this time. Then again. And again. As he sped up his assault, almost like he really was building up for an orgasm himself, my motor began to run a little faster also.

Since the ass has no clit, I figured I was in for a "duty fuck" without much resultant pleasure for myself. But, apparently the female body can hold some surprises even for the female whose body it is. The harder he fucked my ass, the hotter and more excited I got. Jack thrust harder, and faster. I could feel his hands in the mattress alongside my raised hips -- he was up on his knees, hammering me as hard as he could. It definitely felt like he was working up towards cumming IN MY ASS. The more that thought pinged around in my tiny compressed bean-brain at that moment the hotter I got.

I would never have believed a woman could get that excited with someone fucking her ass, but with Exhibit A plainly about to happen, I rest my case Your Honor. Just as I began to wonder exactly what it would feel like to have Jack cum in my ass, I didn't have to wonder anymore. I could feel the hot jets of cum spurting against my....I would have to look it up, I had no clue, I was a frigging English major...oh my God, oh my God, oh my fucking God!!!!...and I passed out again.

Holy crap, this was getting to be more of a habit than normal. The good news was, Jack brought me back to life in his usual fashion -- life-giving mouth-to-mouth. Or was it just passionate kissing this time? Whatever it was, I was in his arms, the blindfold and gag were gone, as were the...wait just a damn minute! My arms were behind me still, the handcuffs and ankle cuffs were back on, and this time something was holding the elbows together as well. We were sitting on the couch in his parents' main house and he was holding me in his lap. He had a washcloth and was doing his best to clean the remains of smeared lipstick, tear-stained eye shadow -- and probably dried cum -- off my face. The immediate question forming in my head was, "Why am I still chained up?"

Evidently Jack could see that question bubbling up because he laid a finger on my lips and said, "Just a moment -- do we still need the gag?" THAT caught me up short. I quickly shook my head and he smiled. "All will be explained. Just be patient, Jeannie.

"Let me ask you first...how do you feel? And before you answer," he added, as my mouth began to open, "take a moment to think it through. How do you really feel right now?"

That was an odd thing to say -- I felt exhausted, violated, angry, sore, betrayed, still a little fearful, and....something else. The more I considered, the more I realized, and with a slow smile I finally answered, "I feel horny. And tired. And a little sore. But," I added, looking around, "I do have a lot of questions."

I saw a wave of relief -- and pleasure -- pass quickly over Jack's face. He looked tired, too. "Let me answer two of what I think must be the top questions in your mind. Number one, it was me. From the beginning. All the physical stuff, the voice changes, the "my turn," all of it was just to make it as realistic as possible."

At that, I sagged in his arms, relief flooding through me. Then I remembered the way he grabbed my neck at first, the brutal mouth-fucking, the whipping, and I started to speak. But Jack was already talking again.

"Number two, we never went anywhere. I took you out to the car, my parents' extra car, actually, and we drove around a little, but once I realized you were out, I drove back here and waited for you to come to. My parents are actually out of town, not just away for the evening. If you hadn't passed out like you did, I would have driven around a little more to confuse you. Also," he held up some red strings, "this is licorice candy. It feels like wire when it's around your neck, but it breaks pretty easily." He demonstrated by pulling a piece apart. "You can actually eat it, but I hate licorice, so not for me," he said, dropping the candy back into a paper bag. "And now for the question that's probably at the tip-top of your list?" he inquired.

"Why am I still chained up!!!" I blurted out.

Jack didn't answer immediately, but just looked at me. The longer he did that, the more uncomfortable I felt. Not physically uncomfortable, although there was a little of that, but more like something in my head was sitting sideways. And hornier. That part I kind of understood. Although I was more-or-less clothed, there was no mistaking the feel of the pinched and tortured nipples and unfettered boobs underneath my blouse, or the strange sensitivity of the freshly shaved pussy under my skirt, or the bruised lips from the oral assault, the aching jaws from being gagged for...how long? or the not-quite-raw feeling of my asshole, or the no-shit throbbing of my ass cheeks.