From Jeannie to Vanessa Ch. 07

Author's note. These are not stand alone stories. If you haven't read chapters 1 through 6, please go back and read them first, or this chapter will make no sense.

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Chapter 7: Keeping the burn alive

Before we left Marguerite's, we had to change back into something a little more substantial than the silk dressing gown I had on or Jack's silk pajama bottoms. Jack had me put the beige corset on, along with the seamed taupe stockings and the amazing black patent six-plus-inch platform heels that Marguerite had dressed me in on Saturday afternoon. Over this I had on my white cotton blouse and wool skirt from Saturday.

I frowned at the heels. "Jack, I absolutely love the way these heels look on me, but they are going to be tough to walk in. We have several pairs of new heels in the car that we bought Saturday, any of which would be easier to walk in than these. Don't you think...?"

Jack snorted. "How much walking do you think you are going to need to do in a two-hour ride in the car?"

"Well, admittedly, not a lot, but when we get to the school..."

"I will park close enough so that you don't need to walk very far."

"Well, you're the boss, but you have no idea what it's like to walk in these very high heels. I was just getting used to the four-inch heels you bought me several weeks ago."

"I'll take it easy on you, for now, I promise. If I can't get close enough, we'll swap them out for some of the lower heels we bought. OK?"

"OK, that sounds fair."

"Just so you know, these are actually the kind of heel-heights I have fantasized having you in for a long time. So I want you to wear them as much as possible, and get used to them. Got it?

I nodded. "Yes, Jack."

The doorman had the car ready for us when we got outside. We got ourselves and all the plunder Marguerite had given us loaded into the car and headed out of town. As soon as we got out of the suburbs, Jack started driving down the "back way," as we called it, secondary roads that avoided the main highway back to his school. Jack soon pulled over on a wooded lane and stopped.

He looked over at me. "Vanessa, I want you to take off your blouse and your skirt, and put them in the back seat."

I looked at him questioningly, but did as I was told. That left me in the open cup corset, stockings, heels, and my winning personality.

He then pulled back onto the main road, still a back road really, and continued driving. His hand situated itself back between my legs, as was his custom now, and began to play with the lips of my bare pussy.

"Lean your seat back a little, Vanessa, and your upper body won't be as noticeable to passing cars."

Again I followed his instructions wordlessly.

Jack's fondling of my pussy, combined with the submissive feeling of being dressed, but exposed at the same time, began to rev my motor. I found my own hands reaching up for my nipples as he continued to play with me below.

I put my right heel up on the dash, where he and I both could see it, and used the leverage to push up against his hand where it touched my pussy. I was really getting hot! My breathing began to get ragged, and I began to want more than just his hand in my pussy. I wanted cock!

Just as I thought I couldn't stand any more, and was going to ask him to pull off and find a rest area, or a private street, or ANYPLACE we could fuck, he did. Pull off, I mean.

It turned out we hadn't been heading directly for the school, but had taken a slight deviation (!!) in our route to reach his parents' lake cabin.

I had lost track of turns and direction long ago, so when he slowed down and turned into the driveway I didn't have any idea where we were at first. Add to this the fact that we almost never came here in daylight, and you can imagine my initial confusion at pulling up to a house.

He stopped, and came around to my side to open the door. I stepped out, a little unsteadily at first, but the driveway was paved and not difficult to walk on. Leaving my outer clothes behind, he led me into the detached garage. We then continued up the stairs to a second, unfinished level that was used for storage.

Jack went over to a set of shelves and took down a box that appeared old and unused, but turned out to contain some items that looked anything but. He brought out a set of leather cuffs joined by a short chain and wordlessly locked my wrists into them.

Then he took a length of what looked to be nylon climbing rope and threw it over an exposed beam. He tied one end of the rope to the chain joining my wrists and began to haul on it until I was just on tiptoes, even in the tall heels I had on. Then he tied it off on another piece of the garage framework and left me, just barely touching the floor.

Jack went back downstairs and I could hear the trunk of his car open and shut. He returned to the upper level where I hung from wrists and tiptoes. In his hand were the paddle, flogger, and harness gag that Marguerite had gifted us only a couple of hours earlier.

Throughout this whole process neither of us had said a word. When we got out of the car, I was hot and ready to fuck. It was becoming obvious that Jack had something else on his mind. It still made me hot, to be bound and helpless, exposed in front of him. Maybe even hotter.

Jack took a few moments, behind my back, to examine his new tools, I guess. Then he began to fit the gag to my face. It was similar to the gag that had been strapped onto me the night of the "scene" only in the sense that it had a ball and locked in the back. This one actually had an adjustable harness that ran under my chin and upwards across my face, on either side of my nose, to a link at my forehead, and then continued back across the top of the head and connected in the back.

Hanging loose from one side of the strap which actually held the ball in my mouth was a flap. I wasn't sure what that was for.

Jack pulled the ball deep into my mouth and completed buckling and adjusting the harness until it was tight under my chin, over my head, and across my cheeks. Then I found out what the flap was for. He pulled it snugly across the already well-seated ball and buckled it on the opposite side. This was an effective gag! I had the ball pulled into my mouth, the straps holding my chin up so it couldn't move down to free any space in the mouth, and the flap, or panel, buckled across the ball in case any noise wasn't contained.

Much later, I learned that this was referred to as a "panel gag" and also presented a smooth appearance across the front.

At the current moment, my thoughts were more about, flogger or paddle? And, this is probably going to hurt! And, when do we fuck?

My first question was answered quickly, and unexpectedly. The paddle struck my ass, hard, about four times. Wow! There was a distinct "thud" as it hit my flesh and then, as the paddle lifted, more of a "sting." That hurt!

I swung wildly from my hands, trying unconsciously to escape the paddle, although somehow I wanted it too.

Jack held me by the hips for a moment and said, "Hold still, Vanessa!"

Those were the first words he had spoken since we arrived at the lake cabin.

Then he started in with the flogger on my ass. He was avoiding the back, since I had the corset on and still was smarting from the belt on Friday night. He gave me several stripes with the full length, and then he experimented with pulling the stroke so just the tips connected, as Marguerite had suggested.

He went at my ass for quite a while, alternating the techniques, getting the mastery of the tool (and me). Despite his command, I found myself flinching and swinging to escape the sting of the flogger.

Then he started in the front. I was crying by this time, the tears ruining my eye shadow and eyeliner and running down along the straps that partially covered my face and then down over the gag panel. He worked over my breasts and thighs mercilessly, trying to avoid damaging the nylon stockings and of course not hitting me where the corset covered me.

I could see this was an effort for him, but at the same time I could see he was worked up. He was hitting me hard and breathing heavily, from the physical effort and from...something else.

Then he stopped, the flogger hanging limply from his hand, and just looked at me, saying nothing. He left me hanging there and went into the house. He returned shortly and climbed the stairs again.

The next thing I heard was him dragging a chair up behind me. The next thing I felt was his fingers lubricating my ass. He released the rope so that I fell into his lap. He held my ass cheeks up long enough to get his cock centered on my little ring and then took me with full force, no hesitation, no tenderness.

His rigid cock slammed all the way into me and I tried to scream. He stood up from the chair, put me back on my high-heeled feet and proceeded to slam me as hard as he could. His hips were slapping my well-whipped ass and it hurt dammit!

I was crying uncontrollably, in fear, in pain, in shame, not knowing exactly what was happening, thinking "it's Jack, there must be a reason!" with one part of my brain and another part of the same brain frantically trying to figure out how to say "crawdad" with my mouth very effectively gagged. I could feel his moves getting harder and faster, so I knew he was close to cumming, but there would be no orgasm for me.

Finally I felt his spurts against my insides (my sigmoid colon, hah! I had finally looked it up) and then things settled down. He relaxed back into the chair and allowed me to slump fully onto him. As his cock shriveled up in my behind, he pulled my arms down to my sides (still joined by the chain and the affixed rope) and held me tight from behind.

I felt his face come up close to my ear from behind and whisper, "I love you Vanessa." I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I love you, but you are mine. You will always be mine. You are my most precious possession, and I will NEVER let you go. I don't care how many cocks go inside you, or how many pussies you put your tongue in, and I don't care how many tongues go in your pussy. You are mine, and always will be.

"Marguerite wants you. I can see it in her eyes, I can feel it when she is with you, I hear it in her voice. But you are MINE. Do you understand?"

I nodded vigorously. I DID understand. And, I think I understood his violence against me today. I also felt something else...he held his head next to mine, from behind, and I could feel his tears wet against my neck.

Jack unbuckled the gag and pulled it free of my face. He then reached around and untied the rope from the chain between my cuffs. He stood me up again, pulled up his undershorts and pants, and dug around in his pocket like he was looking for the key to the locks on my wrists.

"Don't unlock them yet. I want to stay your prisoner for awhile."

He helped me walk down the stairs, out of the garage and up the walkway to the wrap-around deck. We walked out on the deck which had a beautiful view of the lake. There was a slight breeze. It was not yet mid-day on Sunday.

I was essentially naked, my breasts, pussy and ass exposed, walking on six-plus-inch heels, my hands cuffed together, my back covered with welts from Friday night, my ass thighs and breasts covered with welts delivered today.

Jack guided me with his hand. There was no one to see, I believed, but it felt sexy to be exposed like this.

"It's a shame there's no one to see me." I said quietly.

Jack looked at me, a little surprised. "You'd like someone to see you like this?"

"Yes. I'm proud to be yours. I'm proud you love me enough to master me, to whip me. If you didn't care, if you didn't love me, if you weren't at least a little jealous of Marguerite's obvious lust for me, I would be disappointed. It scared me a little, your intensity in there, but you haven't disappointed me."

"You know, it's funny, in a way. One of my fantasies is to have you paraded like this, maybe with a collar or other obvious marking, in front of people. I guess doing it in front of Marguerite is as close as we'll get."

I turned to face him. "Then that's what we'll do then. When we get married. You know we will need to have a traditional wedding service, for our families and friends, but then we should have a special, private ceremony. Marguerite can come, and DeeDee and Rick, and perhaps there will be some others by then. You will have me paraded, and I will become your slave as well as your wife."

Jack looked at me for a long moment. "You are amazing. Is it any surprise that I love you? That I consider you my most precious possession? That I vowed never to let you go?"

I leaned close to him. "No. It doesn't surprise me. I know you love me. You love me enough to hurt me when it has to be done. That takes real strength, from you, because I know doesn't come easy for you."

We turned after that and went back into the house. He released my hands at that point and let me go to the bathroom to clean up. He, meanwhile, went out to the car to put away the gag and the other items. He also picked up my purse and brought it back to me. Then he also cleaned himself up.

I started working to repair the damage to my makeup in the mirror while he watched.

"It's amazing to me how beautiful you are, even with the tears streaking your makeup."

I looked over at him, no longer concerned that he saw me through "love-colored glasses." He did, of course, but I was beautiful. I could see it in the mirror, I could see it in his eyes, I could see it in Marguerite's eyes.

Maybe I was no fashion model or Hollywood starlet, but I was beautiful just the same. I had turned into a fucking great catch, for the right fisherman...or fisherwoman.

"Oh, you just say that because it's true." I teased.

He laughed. "It is absolutely true. Seriously, I think you are more beautiful every day. There's a sense about you, a feeling in the air when you are near, it's like your desirability extends beyond the range of human sight into another dimension, like sound that's too high-pitched for the human ear."

I looked at him and smiled. "What an interesting way of putting it. But you know, I have noticed that, on occasion, something that could or should be ordinary seems to have a more erotic feeling. It's hard to describe; I've been thinking that it's perhaps my own perception, that I see things as being more erotic, when they're actually ordinary. But I'm not sure."

He said nothing, just stroked my leg, down to the stocking top.

Then he spoke. "Don't spend too much time on the makeup, I think I may just have to mess it up again."

I turned to him and said, "Seriously?"

He nodded his head, then dragged a cushion off a nearby chair and threw it at his feet, then sat in the chair.

Without a word, I put down the brush I was holding and knelt at his feet. I opened his pants and helped him pull them down. I took out his cock and began to lick it, willing it to rise with my tongue and mouth. Despite his recent orgasm in my ass (all praise the youthful pecker) it shortly began to show some life again. I sucked each one of his balls and licked and sucked the head and the sensitive underside.

I tried to remember what Marguerite had done to position herself to take him all the way inside her throat. I scooted back on my knees a little to elongate my body some, so that instead of his cock coming into my mouth perpendicular to my neck, it was more in-line with the neck. And I focused intently on relaxing my throat. Then I reached around to his hips and pulled myself onto his cock.

It worked! It wasn't easy, but he was letting me control the action at this point, so I was able to move back and forth, accepting him deep into my throat at one moment and the next backing off to give my throat (and mouth) some literal breathing room. I knew I needed to adjust to the choking feeling quickly, because he would take over soon and I had to be ready. As his erection reached its full size, it became more and more difficult to get the space I needed.

Just as I was realizing that I was almost at my limit, he took over. I knew from now on it was 'ride the bronco' time and just take what he dished out. His hands were in my hair holding my head. I was no longer sucking him or controlling him, he was fucking my mouth - hard. He gave me about ten good thrusts and then, just when I thought I would black out from lack of air, he pulled out.

He looked at me, breath ragged, sweat dripping from his brow, and said, "That was nice, but get on the bed, now, slut, I want to fuck you!"

No further commands were needed, I did as I was told, corset, heels, whipped ass and all, and spread my legs for him. He plunged into me without hesitation (needless to say, I was already wet from the cock-sucking episode) and began to fuck me, hard.

He was up on his knees, slamming me with long, deep thrusts. I wrapped my stocking-clad legs around his thighs, heedless of the pain on the front and inside my thighs, my ankles locked together, the outrageous heels waving in the air.

It wasn't long for either of us - sucking his cock while being on my knees in front of him, particularly being able (at last) to deep-throat him - was wonderfully submissive and erotic for me, and his dick in my pussy was icing on the cake. I apparently had done an adequate (hah!) job of getting him aroused with my deep-throat action and he was close to the edge also.

Within moments I felt the hot jets of his semen splashing against my cervix as his pulsing cock drummed and throbbed inside of me. I reveled in the feel for just a moment, and reflected for milliseconds on my dress, my marks, my total submission to him - and felt the familiar but no less welcome feeling of my orgasm roll over me.

We lay there, exhausted, for probably a half hour.

Finally, however, Jack leaned over and said, "I hate to introduce the real world, but we still have to get to my school so you can pick up your car and go back to your school!"

I nodded reluctantly, and we got up and began to pull ourselves together. I finished my makeup repairs (recently interrupted by WILD SEX woohoo!) and Jack gathered things up and put them back in the car.

"Jack," I asked tentatively, "do you know if there is any aloe vera cream or plants up here?"

He looked at me questioningly. "Marguerite showed me that it could help the pain of the whip marks."

"I know my mother likes that stuff too. Let me look around."

Sure enough, he was able to find a bottle of aloe vera gel in a squeeze bottle under his mother's side of the sink in their bathroom. He smoothed it over my flesh with soothing caresses, and both felt wonderful! I had been really concerned about my ability to sit all the way back to his school, but I felt I could make it now.

Jack wanted me to finish the trip in my current state of undress, and I was in no position to refuse. He did stop, however, about a half-hour from the school and found a quiet place where I could get my blouse and skirt back on.

When we got back to the school, he found a place to park that (at least in his opinion) was close enough for me to walk in the black heels. So walk I did. If I thought I had gotten attention walking across campus on Friday night, now with seamed stockings and the tall platform heels on, the attention was at least double.

That attention continued in the suite. Andy greeted us at the door and I thought his eyes were going to pop out.

And Siller had returned from his weekend with his girlfriend, who was sitting on his bed with him when we walked in.

"Holy Sheeeit!" he exclaimed, "Who the hell is this, Jack my man?"

"Come on, Siller, you've met Van...Jeannie before."