Nomally Abnormal

She wasn't normal, she thought, or at least she was different from what most people would consider normal. She'd been raised to believe sex was a mutual expression of love between a man and a woman. She'd tried to think that way, but she'd always liked boys who were strong and wanted to take charge and tell her what to do. It made her feel excited when she thought about that happening.

Until she was eighteen, she hadn't let any boy go all the way with her or even let a boy feel, much less, see her breasts. Her mother would have disowned her if she knew Ellen had done that. She always told the boy she couldn't do that sort of thing, but in the back of her mind was a desire to have him talk her into letting him.

The spring she turned eighteen, she knew she was going to college in the fall, so she didn't look for a full time job. Instead, she applied to a local summer camp and was hired as a counselor. She spent the days helping kids aged twelve through fifteen learn crafts. She spent the nights as a sort of house mother to six young girls in one of the cabins.

Kids arrived at the summer camp on Sunday afternoon, and left on Saturday at noon. That gave the counselors one evening to relax and recharge. Ellen enjoyed that time with people her own age, and she especially enjoyed the time with Jerry, the counselor for the waterfront program. Jerry was twenty and had worked at the camp for two years prior.

Ellen was young and inexperienced and at first had looked to Jerry for guidance in doing her job. Saturday nights became the time she sat with Jerry on a cabin porch and talked about how to guide kids to succeed. As the summer progressed, those talks began ending with Jerry holding her hand, then putting his arm around her, and finally stroking her breasts and inner thighs.

Ellen found she could not resist Jerry's touch. He would brush the side of her breast and Ellen would feel shocks race through her body. As the touching changed to Jerry arousing her by stroking up her inner thighs, part of her mind told her it was wrong, but another part told her this was what she needed, to be submissive and allow Jerry to do what he wanted with her.

What he wanted to do with her happened the Saturday before the last group of campers for that season arrived. After dinner she and Jerry walked down to the boathouse where the boating equipment was stored. Jerry unlocked the door and then went in behind Ellen. What followed left Ellen feeling as if something she'd dreamed about had really happened to her.

Jerry held her in his arms and kissed her, then began the same caresses she'd felt before. This time, when his hand slipped up her inner thigh, it didn't stop at the leg of her shorts. She felt Jerry's fingers exploring her sex through her panties.

She was quickly losing the ability to object to his touch, but that didn't matter. Her mind was crying out to be touched more. As Jerry pushed her down on the floor of the boathouse, Ellen didn't resist. When he lifted her T-shirt over her head, she didn't resist. When he unhooked her bra and slipped it from her shoulders, Ellen shivered at the cool air of the evening, then moaned as Jerry's hands closed on her breasts.

She didn't resist when he pushed her back and unfastened her shorts. She couldn't resist when he pulled them down her legs, and when he began pulling her panties down, Ellen closed her eyes.

Her mind said this was what she wanted, to be taken by a man who took away her will and replaced it with the heat she felt between her thighs, pushed that will into the background of her mind, and then pushed his cock into her sex.

Jerry didn't waste time with foreplay. He just stuck a finger between Ellen's hair-covered lips and stroked a while, then knelt between her open legs and pulled down his shorts. Ellen looked down her nude body at Jerry's rigid cock, then lay back and closed her eyes when she felt him probing for her entrance.

Ellen became a woman in three strokes of Jerry's cock. The first was stopped by her gasp. The second, by a low cry at the pressure that stretched her maidenhead to the breaking point. Jerry had asked then if she wanted him to stop.

By then, Ellen was lost in the feeling of submitting to Jerry, the feeling of knowing he could do anything to her he wanted and she wouldn't resist. She breathed, "No".

Jerry's third stroke broke through the barrier and sank deep inside Ellen. She shrieked at the pain, but then gasped at the feeling of being stretched inside. Her pelvic muscles involuntarily clamped down on Jerry's cock as he pulled back out.

"Oh, fuck. You're tight", he gasped, and then began stroking his cock in and out of Ellen.

Jerry didn't last long, at least not long enough for Ellen. The sensation of his cock moving inside her body blended with the pain the stretching strokes continued to cause. She found her mind reeling with that feeling, but even more, laying under Jerry with his hands holding her arms down, unable to move more than he'd let her, and letting him do what he wanted to do only increased the already intense feeling.

Jerry groaned and then rammed his cock in and out four times before sagging into his arms and panting. He pulled out a little later, and Ellen felt wetness running from her entrance and down between her hips. Jerry got up and helped her to her feet, then said they should be getting back before they were missed.

The next day the last round of campers arrived, and Ellen and Jerry had no opportunity to repeat the act. Jerry still sat with her and talked, but he didn't touch her. To Ellen that seemed strange, but in a way it attracted her to him even more. He had taken her virginity because she had allowed it, and now seemed to be ignoring her. Ellen didn't feel neglected though. What she felt was the thrill of knowing she was his to do with as he wished, even if he didn't want to do it again.

Her only fear was that she might be pregnant, but her period arrived two days later. Ellen breathed a sigh of relief then, and hoped she and Jerry could be together again. Such was not to be. After the last camper left that next Saturday, Jerry tossed his bag into his car and drove away without even saying goodbye.

Ellen thought it odd that she didn't feel like crying, but she didn't. Instead, she thought of that night and some of the excitement filled her again and took away any other feelings. She had been used, but for some reason she didn't understand, that in itself was thrilling.

She accepted the fact she wasn't normal the year she entered college. It was a movie she'd watched on TV with her roommate in their dorm room that did it. Because it was one of those soft porn things, it didn't really show much of the guy. It showed a lot of the woman's breasts and hips but not her sex. In Ellen's imagination, she saw everything, and the combination of what she could see and what she imagined aroused her.

The sounds the woman in the movie made helped her imagination do that, sounds that were at times little moans of pain, but changed to moans and shrieks of pleasure as the woman reached her peak. The movie only showed the woman's face when that happened, but the woman's closed eyes and open mouth when she panted out the second orgasm had stirred something in her mind, a thought...no, a desire...no, a craving to experience what the woman in the movie had.

When the movie ended, her roommate told her any woman who allowed a man to do that to her wasn't right in the head. Sex was supposed to be soft and caring and loving, not painful. Ellen agreed with her, but when she went to bed that night she lay there and imagined what was happening in the movie the director had blocked.

The movie had started as do most romance movies. The woman and the man met and found each other interesting. They had a few dates, and after the second, the man kissed the woman. She had melted into his arms and kissed him back. After the third, he asked if she'd go home with him. The woman said yes.

It was the parts after that, when the man and woman were in his apartment that stirred the feelings in Ellen's mind. The man had fondled the woman while he undressed her, then took off his own clothes. The scene then changed to both of them in his bed, and though the camera angles blocked what the man was doing to the woman, it was easy for Ellen to understand that he was kissing and sucking the woman's nipples.

She knew how that must feel because once she discovered what her own touch to her nipples could do, she'd done the same thing as the woman in the movie. If she was alone, she'd moan at that touch. If someone else was in the house, she'd suppress the moan but couldn't stop the catch of her breath it always caused.

A little later, the scene changed again. The man was kneeling between the woman's legs and it was obvious they were having sex. It looked normal at first, the man just slowly pumping away and the woman stroking his back. Then the man bent his head down and did something. The woman shrieked and jerked her body up into the man. In response, his hips quickly thrust forward and down. Ellen didn't know what he'd done, but the way his back dropped could only mean he'd rammed his cock into the woman really hard and really fast.

He kept doing that, ramming into the woman so hard her breasts were slammed up toward her face and then back down, and whatever else he was doing seemed to be making her get closer and closer to an orgasm.

The movie showed the man raise his hand, and then there was the sound of a slap as he hit the woman on the hip. The woman shrieked, but then moaned. He did it again,and the woman shrieked again, then gasped and started to shake. Ellen knew it was probably fake, but the woman was doing exactly the same thing she did when she used her finger to make herself climax.

In the scene that followed, the woman was still under the man, though they weren't moving any more. The woman looked up at the man and smiled.

"How did you know?"

"I didn't at first. I just suspected."

"Why?"

"You're very submissive. Many submissive women like it that way. I didn't know until that first little bite. After that, I suspected but I still wasn't sure, not until the slap. Then I knew."

"Does that make me weird?"

"No, it makes you different and a woman I want to do a lot more with."

"How much more?"

"As much as you're comfortable with, no more, no less."

As she watched the rest of the movie, Ellen became more and more aroused. It wasn't the sex that filled her with a need, though the actual sex was arousing to her. It was what the man did to the woman before and during.

Ellen felt a strange stirring when the man tied the woman to the bed hand and foot, then sat down beside her. He opened a drawer in the bed table and pulled out two small items that flashed in the light.

"What are those", asked the woman.

"You'll see", he replied.

The woman had gasped when the man put the small clamps on her nipples, but not as hard as Ellen. Ellen had watched, spellbound, as the man adjusted the clamps tighter and tighter until the woman grimaced.

As her roommate slept, Ellen moved a hand under her pajamas and pinched her nipple. The shock that raced through her body made her gasp too. She pinched her right nipple between her thumb and index fingernails and kept pinching until she felt pain. The pain should have made her stop, but instead, she felt a tightening sensation in her core. She pinched the other nipple and felt the same tightening.

When the man had pulled on the clamps, the woman writhed and murmured, "Oh God, I never thought it could be like this."

Ellen tried that, but her nipple kept slipping from her grasp. She felt on the table next to her bed until she found the hair clips she used to hold her long, blonde hair out of her face during the day, then opened one of the small clips and placed the jaws around her right nipple.

The little plastic clips had teeth to hold them in her hair, and Ellen shuddered when those teeth first bit into her nipple, then nearly cried out as she released the grip that held them partially open. There was pain, but there was something else, something that knotted her core and made her mind crave more. She was panting because of that tightening by the time she'd put another clip on her left nipple.

The man had then reached into the drawer again. Ellen couldn't see what he did with the second set of clamps because the camera put his body in front of the woman's, but when the woman cried out and lifted herself up off the bed, Ellen knew.

Ellen pulled down her pajama bottoms and panties, then selected another clip. After parting the hair over her sex, she stretched out her right outer lip and let the jaws of the clip close around the soft, tender flesh.

The effect was immediate. Ellen gasped at the pain, but felt a flow of warmth. She slipped a finger beside the clip and between her lips and discovered her body was reacting. In the past, that had always happened after she'd closed her eyes and fingered the little nub at the top of her slit for a while. Now, it was like then, but had taken only moments.

She felt another flow when she fastened another clip to the left lip, and when she tugged gently on them, her hips lurched and her mind reeled from the sensation.

The man wasn't yet done with the woman. Ellen had watched as he retrieved something that looked like a flyswatter but made of leather from the drawer. The man stroked the wide, flat end over the woman's nipples and she shuddered. He then slapped that flat end against her breast. The woman cried out, but it wasn't a cry of pain exactly. The cry was mixed with a cry of need.

Remembering that scene made Ellen so aroused she couldn't stop her fingertip from slipping into her wetness and then rubbing her clit. She closed her eyes and the rest of the scene played out in her head. The man slapped the woman's other breast with the swatter thing and she gasped, "again". He kept doing it while he stroked up the woman's leg with his hand. Again, his body blocked what he did then, but Ellen could figure it out. The woman closed her eyes and her mouth formed an "O" shape, and the man's shoulder began to move in a steady rhythm. He had to be stroking his finger in and out of the woman.

From time to time, he'd pull the clamps on the woman's nipples and the woman would first grimace, then gasp and try to pull away. The man wouldn't let go, and the woman's nipple and entire breast would be pulled up and out. She'd sometimes cry out when this happened, but like before, it wasn't really a cry of pain and her body always lurched up. After a couple minutes, the woman groaned, then murmured, "God, I need to be fucked. Fuck me, please fuck me."

Before she realized what was happening, Ellen was in the throes of an orgasm. The sensation of the hair clips on her nipples as her breasts shook, and the way her stroking fingers pulled at the clips on her lips made her gasp as wave after wave swept her away. She shuddered, then pulled her pillow over her face to mute the cry as the orgasm caused her to squeeze her thighs together. That pulled the clips on her lips tighter and she gasped, dug her heels into her mattress, and raised her hips high off the bed.

She stayed like that because the intense contractions of her body wouldn't let her do anything else. Her hips rocked up and down uncontrollably and her entire body shook as the second shock raced through her.

Ellen was surprised that she was responding so strongly. She had often used her finger to make herself have an orgasm before going to sleep. It helped relieve the stress of studying so hard, but once had always been enough. Now, she craved the shattering release again. She whispered to herself, "I need to be fucked. Fuck me, please fuck me", and kept stroking her fingers in and out.

Ellen was breathless when the second orgasm blinded her to everything around her. She rolled to her side and buried her face in the pillow to again mute her cry. That was all she could do except keep stroking her fingertip over her clit as her body shook. Even after that stopped, it took only a touch to the hair clip on a nipple or lip to tighten her body again and cause that same feeling to race through her.

For a while Ellen lay on her back and thought about what she'd just experienced. Her nipples were still long and stiff, and when she felt them, her outer lips were swollen and puffy. Her inner lips seemed to be that way too, and she couldn't remember them ever being that way before. She unclipped the clip on her right lip and then gasped at the sensation. It was the same way when she took the clips off her other lip and nipples. She felt an intense, racing shock that tightened her belly again.

As she fell asleep, she wondered if she'd been tied up so she couldn't resist like the woman in the movie, would it have been different, maybe even better. The woman had to just lay there and let the man do with her as he wanted. Ellen felt a chill run down her spine then. She'd been able to stop pulling on the hair clips when the sensation got too intense to bear. What if she hadn't been able to do that? She hadn't felt the slap of the man's swatter because she didn't have anything like that and couldn't have done it with her roommate there anyway. What would that have felt like? She found herself wanting and needing to know.

The next day as she walked to her English class, Ellen thought more about what she'd discovered about herself. What she wanted was to experience a situation like the woman in the movie, tied so she was helpless to resist and then have a man do with her all the things the man in the movie had done. She sighed as she realized that probably wasn't going to happen.

She was nineteen, and all the men she knew were about the same age. She'd heard them talking on occasion, but all they ever talked about was normal sex with a woman. They wouldn't know what to do, and other than what she'd seen in the movie, she couldn't tell them anything. Besides, if she asked one to do even part of what had happened in the movie, he'd think she was weird and tell everyone he knew.

At the start of the class, Ellen dropped off the essay she'd written and then took her usual seat. Professor Allen gathered hers and all the other essays, put them in his briefcase, and then gave them their next assignment.

"We're going to begin studying the various plot types used by authors of fiction. Your assignment is to select a book from the list I'll provide, read the book, and then identify the type of plot and how the author utilizes the elements of that plot to tell the story. Your paper is due in six weeks. That's a week before the final and it will count for a quarter of your final grade. Are there any questions?"

One of the guys in the class who seemed to think everything he said was hilarious asked if any of the books were about sex. Professor Allen smiled.

"You won't find any porn novels in the list if that's what you're asking. I'm afraid most works of that type are written for readers who care less about how something is written and more about how detailed the descriptions are. All my selections are recognized as examples of excellent writing that span multiple centuries of literature."

The guy said a whispered, "crap", which caused a few chuckles.

The rest of the class was an introduction to the kinds of plots found in most novels. At the end of the class, Ellen picked up the list from Professor Allen's desk and then went to the bookstore.

She browsed the fiction section looking at the summaries of the books on Professor Allen's list, and finally found one that seemed like it would be at least a somewhat interesting read. She picked it up and was starting to the check-out counter when she saw a book in the same section that piqued her interest. The book was thin, the title was "Bound Love", and the only thing on the cover was a coiled rope. She opened the cover and read the summary.