Hollister Ch. 01: A Ride to Remember

My name is Emma Hollister, an 18-year-old first-year student in the local community college. I moved here, to the big city, a few months ago to start my studies. Currently living in a dorm outside of campus, I am a pledge sister of the Kappa Alpha Tau sorority. What you are about to read is a chapter from the chronicle of my transformation from an innocent virgin afraid of her own shadow to an angel of pleasure and lust who is not afraid to live and enjoy life.

* * *

I'm standing in front of the storage unit. Glancing down at my phone to double-check the unit number Christie gave me. 291, this should be the one. As I look around, there is nothing remarkable to see, but a long street with identical storage spaces one after the other on both sides. Each unit has a smaller door for people to go in and out and a larger sliding garage door that, from the looks of it, would retract to the ceiling when opened. Both doors of her unit are closed and as I try them, they also appear to be locked.

Okay, I am here, now what?

When she invited me to her workshop, I really didn't know what to expect. We've been roommates for about four months now and over this time, we have grown gradually closer to each other. The thought that I might soon leave the dorm to move to the sorority house fills my heart with sadness.

She moved into the dorm as soon as it opened up before the semester started and so did I, though for totally different reasons. She did it to escape her shackles back home and finally live more freely, while I did it because my mom wanted me to make friends before the school year. Yep, I was pretty much a mommy's girl.

Christie turned out to be the awesome, supportive, cool sister figure I longed for in my new home. She was outgoing, outspoken and quite open about every aspect of her life. Pretty much my polar opposite. Both of us were heavily into robotics and computers and that shared passion gave us the common ground over which we quickly bonded.

Though I have an older sister back home and we are more or less the same age with Christie, I have still adopted her as a sister, and I know she feels the same way. Well, sister with benefits... It astonishes me to think how much I have changed in the past few months. When I came to the city, I was a virgin who was very shy about everything and always kept apologizing. Joining the sorority may have been the best thing to happen to me. Not only did I find some amazing friends there, but they've opened my eyes wide and taught me to enjoy life, not just to live it.

I'm just about to call her, when she appears rounding the corner, heading straight towards the unit and me.

Her long blonde hair is dancing behind her as gusts of wind catch into it. Her chest heaves rhythmically as she is quickening her pace towards me, her breasts, much larger than mine, pushing against the fabric of her shirt. It is unusually warm for the season and despite it being early November, the weather is good enough for her to not have her windbreaker zipped up. Her tight-fitting jeans show off the curves of her body and I marvel once again at the grace with which she walks.

I hold out my arms and give her a hug and a deep kiss on the lips as she finally reaches me. She returns my kiss and I feel warmth spread through my belly from her touch.

"I am happy to see you too," she says, laughing, and fiddles with a keychain to find the right key.

"What are we doing here?" I ask her. "When did you even rent this place?"

"Well, about two months ago. You were busy with the sorority, and I was on a design binge, so I decided to try and do something about it. I decided to set up a workshop where I can try and build some stuff"

I raise my eyebrows. Renting a unit like this is not cheap. That and setting up a workshop inside must've cost a fortune. As we enter and she turns on the lights, my jaw drops. The place is not too big but is more than enough to set up some serious machinery. Various tool benches, tables, tool stands and shelves line the walls. A couch in one corner with a space heater next to it. Scattered on some of the tables are bits and pieces of small mechanisms in various stages of construction. I can tell she has been busy. In the middle of the workshop, there is a larger device about the size of a small shopping cart, or a car engine on stands. It has a thick cover thrown over it to keep dust away. Lastly, there is also a small ATV parked right in front of the garage door, just inside the workshop.

"Wow, sweet setup!" I exclaim with clear amazement in my voice. "It must have cost you a fortune to set all this up."

"Well, you know, it's just money," she says, adding with a laugh, "Not like I spend it on much else anyway."

"I appreciate you showing this to me. I hope you have a spare key so I can use it as well from time to time," I jest, although deep down I hope she's actually already thought of it.

"I thought you'd ask. Of course I do. I'll give you a set of keys when we're back in the dorm. But I didn't call you here just to show you the place. I actually wanted to ask you if you could help me try one of my inventions."

I wrap my arms excitedly around her neck in a tight hug, almost knocking her over in the process: "OMG! You are the best! I'd love to help!"

Stumbling back a few steps before regaining her balance, she gently extricates herself from my embrace as she turns towards me: "Well, before you agree to it, you should know, it is a bit... ehm... On the kinky side." Her voice trails off and she blushes brightly.

I have of course long known that not only does she design robots and all kinds of machinery, but also sometimes even sex machines, but would she really have built one of those?

A memory creeps into my mind.

It was the day before the sorority orientation week, just a few days before the semester started, about three months ago. Oh my, just three months, yet it could have been an eternity as well from how it feels. I just came home from a shopping trip, where I bought some funny-looking shirts for both myself and her. As I entered our room, she was working on one of her designs and when I asked about it, she showed me a drawing of this weird contraption. Some sex saddle on wheels, that forced the rider to endure sexual stimulation as she was dragged around. I can't remember the details anymore, but it was the first time I learned of her kinky side, and being the shy virgin I was back then, I remember how embarrassed I felt about the whole thing.

I look at the covered contraption in the middle of the workshop and my heart skips a beat. It is about the right size. Could it really be that she built it?

"I have been designing this for several months and just finished building the first prototype last week," Christie explains. "I did not plan on trying it out before spring, but the weather's been so nice and warm recently, I figured it might be worth a try."

The whole time she's talking, I can't tear my eyes away from the covered mystery machine in the middle of the room.

"Now, I know we haven't really done this sort of thing before," she continues, "but since we have been together for some time now, and I know you well enough already, I figured I'd ask if you would be willing to try something new and help me with this." She walked over to the cover and pulled it off the machine.

"You built it," was all I could say.

"You remember?" Her eyes sparkle with excitement. "When I first showed it to you, you looked so shocked. I was afraid I went a bit too far, but I just could not get this thing out of my head. I had to build it. I figured, since you were the first person I revealed it to, it just felt right that you would also be the first one to help me test it."

I look at the machine, standing before me in all its glory. A riding saddle, like the one you would put on a horse, bolted to a steel frame at slightly higher than waist height. The height will ensure that the rider's legs do not reach the ground and that their entire weight is supported by the saddle. Though in reality, the way the rider would be bound to the thing, with their legs bent backwards and locked in place by cuffs resembling stirrups, would also ensure that.

The frame has two wheels on either side, with a U bend in its axle. A set of connecting rods connect the U bend to a vertical rod, transferring the rotation of the axle into up-and-down motion of the vertical rod. A long purple dildo is affixed to the end of the vertical piece, its head just barely passing through the hole cut into the middle of the saddle at its lowest position.

The idea of the machine is clear. Whoever sits on it will be fucked by the dildo for as long as the saddle is rolling on its wheels. The faster it is moving, the faster the fucking motion is going to be.

A set of restraints on the frame and a longer steel pole behind it give plenty of points to which the rider can be bound, to ensure they are immobilized and unable to get off the saddle on their own, making them completely vulnerable and forcing them to endure the experience for as long as the operator of the saddle wants it.

"You want me to ride this thing?" I ask her, no doubt with a shocked expression, but the idea of being locked into such a vulnerable position to be mercilessly fucked by an unrelenting machine excites me more than I would dare to admit.

"Well, yes," Christie confirms with a coy, teasing smile. "Or I'm happy to try it myself, if you are willing to drive me around while I'm sitting on it."

I think about it, and I can see on her face that she is eagerly waiting for my answer. If she were to have asked me a few months ago, I would already have run away, but now I am intrigued and aroused instead. I remember what she said when I asked her about the restraints on her drawing back then, and I can't help laughing out loud.

"What?" she asks, surprised by my sudden outburst.

"Do you remember when you first showed me your sketch for this thing? I asked you -"

Christie chuckles. "You asked why anyone would be willing to allow herself to be tied to it."

"And you told me, I'm clearly not the target audience if I have to ask that. I just found it funny that today I didn't think of that question at all. I mean, I have a thousand worries about this thing. It looks extremely dangerous, maybe even illegal, but the one thing I know for sure is that the thought of you giving me a joyride on this thing makes me wanna jump on it right away."

Relieved by my explanation and excited about my desire to try her creation, Christie runs over to a shelf and gathers various pieces of clothing and equipment, alongside two curved panels.

"Don't worry," she says, "the machine is safe. I can adjust the stroke depth before we do anything to match you perfectly, so that part will not hurt you." She gives me a wicked grin, and adds, "Well, other than fucking your brains out, but that's an expected side effect."

I'm actually more worried about its safety as a vehicle, but the frame has a wide wheelbase, so it shouldn't really tip over - unless something rams it from the side... How embarrassing that would be! Imagine the headlines: "Young Woman Impaled In Erotic Vehicle Collision."

"If you look underneath," Christie continues, "you will see several small nozzles next to the opening in the saddle. That is connected to a pump and a decent sized tank filled with lube. I am not 100% sure It's needed, but I figured it's best to be safe than sorry as the fucking can become quite fast."

I shudder at the thought. "Just how fast are we talking about?"

Her brow furrows in deep thought, and I can almost hear the numbers being crunched in her brain.

"Well, the wheels are 40 cm or about 15.7 inches in diameter and the dildo does one stroke for every full rotation, so it is just a matter of calculating the RPM at a given speed to figure out how fast the dildo will move. Every 1 kph will give you about thirteen strokes per minute. With walking being about 5 kph on average, if I were to push the saddle by hand, that would be around sixty strokes a minute."

I also run the numbers in my head to double check, but she is right. "That's not too bad."

"Wait until I hook this baby up to that ATV," she says, grinning.

I shudder at the thought; those things can go fast and even just a speed of around 20 kph, or four thrusts of the dildo per second, would be like a jackhammer going off inside. Just how much can a human body take?

"You're joking, right?" I demand.

"Don't worry, I won't go too fast. Besides, the thing is well lubricated, and the rod cannot really extend on its own; in fact, it collapses if the bolt gets loose, reducing the stroke depth. As you can see, I've designed it in a way to reduce the risk. Heck, I want to try it out myself as well and I would not want to get hurt."

She pauses briefly before continuing. "I have a body suit you can wear, so you will just look like someone riding a strange cart and not show anything off to bystanders. I also have side covers for the machine, which I will add once everything is set up, to conceal the mechanisms under the saddle."

I take a look at the insulated but thin and flexible bodysuit she produces and notice the zippers go from top to bottom on this thing. Like, way down, to the very bottom, between the legs and then up behind to the top of the ass. I can see there is another zipper head on the other side, allowing this thing to be zipped up from both directions at once. It looks reasonably warm and comfortable, definitely good enough to ride around in. The covers appear to be sturdy and fit the machine well, doing a good job in masking the kinky nature of it.

But I am still worried about one thing. "Yeah, but when I ride around on this thing, I will eventually come, and you know how noisy I can get."

She is already one step ahead of me, though, and she shows me the next piece of equipment. "This helmet has a built-in mike, so we can communicate while we ride, but I have also modified it by adding extra sound dampening around the mouth area, so you can shout and squeal to your heart's content. The mike will pick it up for me to hear, but no one will be the wiser. Even if they are standing next to you, all they will hear are some muffled sounds. Similarly, the built-in headphones allow you to hear me, but keep the outside noises mostly out, allowing you to focus on your thoughts of when to cum next."

I can hear the pride in her voice as she explains the various details and shows how she has thought of everything. She clearly has put a lot of thought into this thing and is dying to finally see it in action.

"All right, let's do it." I say, feeling excited and more and more aroused the more we talk about the thing.

"Cool, please strip down and change into the body suit."

I begin doing as she asks but on impulse I decide to give her a little striptease.

Hanging my coat on the handles of a machine close to me, I stand beside her, looking at her face, and pull my T-shirt off over my head, letting it drop onto the floor. My perky C cup breasts are barely covered by the tiny black bra.

I touch my breast through the lacy fabric with my left hand and teasingly trace a circle around my nipple, while my right unbuttons my jeans and starts to slowly pull the zipper down, revealing a matching black panties underneath.

Christie is trying to focus on her own preparations of the machine, but I am too big a distraction for her to ignore. She turns towards me and looks me in the eye as her hands reach out to cup my breasts. Our lips meet in a deep and passionate kiss as her hands find the clasp of my bra. I ease the now loosened straps off my shoulders, allowing the garment to fall to the ground.

After our lips separate, she kisses the tip of my chin briefly before moving lower, soft kisses along the way, first to the side of my neck, then my right shoulder blade, the top of my right breast. She uses her tongue to caress my areola, flicking my nipple every so often. I can feel her teeth gently grabbing the sensitive flesh as she playfully tugs on it, putting her mouth over it to nibble on the erect bud.

I moan out loud in response to her ministrations and reach down to touch her through her trousers with one hand, while my other touches her upper chest through her shirt. She presses herself against my hand, pushes me backwards while her mouth and tongue continue their divine work on my chest.

I feel my back against the wall as she continues kissing me all over my body. Lower and lower, the underside of my breast, then feather light kisses all around my midsection. Her tongue digs into my navel and I giggle from the ticklish sensation.

Her hands are now on my hips, pushing my jeans down my legs, and tossing them aside. Her mouth reaches the hem of my panties and she grabs it with her teeth to pull it away from me a little, before letting it snap back onto me. Her head dips even deeper, her nose nudging against the damp material while savoring the scent of my excitement.

I tug at the hem of my panties to get them out of the way, but Christie stops my hands. I can feel her fingers stroking me, the silky smooth material against my skin enhancing her touch. Skimming the outline of my furrow and stroking up and down the entire length of it, she gradually pushes the silky material and her fingers between my folds. The feeling of them gliding over my clitoris at the end of every stroke is electrifying.

I'm burning with desire and desperately want her to do more, but she's just teasing me. I reach for my panties again, and this time we quickly get rid of them. Her hot breath feels like a whisper of warm air on my shaved mound. Deft fingers are drawing thrilling lines on my sensitive skin, until they once again settle into a rhythm of stroking along the length of my slit. I squirm under her touch, my breathing ragged, and my moans fill the workshop.

I whimper as her warm tongue explores my pussy lips with agonizingly slow licks: "Please, stop teasing me and get in there."

She rewards my pleas with more tantalizing swipes, slowly picking up the pace, occasionally drifting to my inner thighs, but never really touching me where I need her to. Her hands cup my breasts, her skilled, agile fingers gently playing with my nips as she keeps devouring me. My arousal and her tempo are both increasing, and my own hand instinctively reaches between my legs to help her close the deal. I whine in desperation as she grabs my wrists and holds them at my side, without breaking her maddening tempo even just for a moment.

I cry out in frustration, my voice dripping with primal need: "Please!"

She dives deeper, her tongue between my lips, tasting from my wet hole all the way to the top of my slit. Every time it slides over my clit, she pauses, if even just for a few moments, to flutter against the little pearl.

Deeper still, her tongue pushing between my folds, entering my pussy. I lean back and close my eyes as I feel her hands spread my outer lips for better access. Her licks are more and more focused on my by now very swollen and erect clit. She takes it into her mouth and sucks on it while her tongue swirls around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"That's it," I cry softly. "Don't you dare stop."

Her index and middle fingers probe my entrance and start pumping into my wet pussy. With how long she's been teasing me, it doesn't take long until I start to come, my muscles spasming and my toes curling, and I cry out as waves of pleasure wash through me. Taking this as encouragement to do even more, her fingers are moving faster and faster and her tongue just keeps dancing over my love button.

I slump down the wall, exhausted and thoroughly satisfied. Savoring my wetness on her fingers, she looks at me with a naughty smile. "Mmm... You taste so damn good," she purrs as she licks her lips clean of my juices as well.