Nomally Abnormal

"Gwen smiled and said she thought I'd done more than think that night, and said I should check my shorts. When I felt them, I'd soaked all the way through my panties and the crotch of my shorts. When I looked back at her, she smiled and said it wasn't anything that should embarrass me. It just meant I was like she was.

"They invited me to watch them the next Saturday too, and the Saturday after that, Gwen asked if I'd like to try it. She said Barry would stop if I said the word "kitten", and that he wouldn't really hurt me.

"I learned so much that night about myself and about BDSM. I was scared to death when Gwen said she'd take off my clothes the first time but she kept telling me to relax so I could feel everything Barry was going to do to me. I was scared to get on the table, but I kept remembering how Gwen had acted, so I did.

"When Barry tied my arms and legs, this strange feeling came over me. I was still scared, but I was wanting to see what he did next. He didn't use the ball gag on me, but he did clamp my nipples. I felt the pain but then there was this feeling that went from my nipples to my tummy. I'm sure I must have moaned but I don't remember doing that. All I remember was this tight feeling on my nipples that wouldn't stop and it was making me so horny. When Barry clamped my pussy lips, I felt it all over my body. There was pain, but wow... If Barry would have climbed up on that table and put his dick in me, I'd have had an orgasm right then.

"He didn't though. He got a different dildo out of his cabinet, a smaller one, and he gave it to Gwen. She pushed it inside me and then started moving it in and out and using her finger to rub my clit while Barry pulled on the nipple clamps. It didn't take long before I was lifting my butt up and panting. When I had an orgasm, I thought I was going to pass out, it was that strong.

"After Barry untied me and I got dressed, Gwen said we should go back outside on the patio to talk. Once we were out there, Gwen asked me how it had felt.

"I didn't know how to describe it. It was better than with the two guys I'd been with and it was different too. With them, well, the second one anyway, I got excited but it was like it happened all at once. I was just laying there while pumped away, and then all of a sudden, I felt myself getting tense. A minute later I had an orgasm. It was a great feeling, but when Barry tied me up and then did what he did, it was like that tense feeling started when he tied me up, got stronger when he clamped my nipples and then got even stronger when he clamped my pussy lips. By the time Gwen started using the dildo and rubbing my clit, I was going out of my mind.

"I tried to tell her all that, and when I got done, she patted me on the shoulder and said if I felt like that, I was a submissive and I'd always like being dominated more than having just what she called vanilla sex.

"We did it every Saturday until school started. A couple of times he tied Gwen and me to the frame thing and did both of us. Sometimes he just did me or Gwen while the other one watched. When Gwen watched me, she'd always get herself off, and she told me I should do the same thing. I did, not at first, but I did later. It was almost as good as having Barry do me.

"I didn't know what I was going to do after school started until I heard about this group. I don't get to do things like that here, because there's no place to do it, but just talking about it helps."

Ellen was going to ask a question, but Walt said their hour was up. As the group walked out of the building, Walt asked if she'd be back. Ellen didn't have to think about that answer.

"Yes, I'll be back. I want...I need to hear more."

It was almost eight-thirty when Ellen got back to the dorm. She thought about studying but realized she'd only be thinking about what she'd heard at the group and wouldn't be able to concentrate. It was going to be hard to fall asleep for the same reason.

Ellen thought maybe a shower would relax her so she undressed and put on a robe, then walked down the hall with her soap and shampoo in her robe pocket and two towels in her hand.

When she went back to her room, she thought about putting on her pajamas like she always did, but since her roommate wasn't there, there was no need. Ellen picked up the thin volume titled "Bound Love" and turned to Chapter 7.

Evangeline woke the next morning with a feeling she'd not felt before. That feeling was one of satisfaction and calm. When she stretched to waken her body, her nipples brushed the cloth of the sheet and reminded her of Mr. Witherbottom's bat brushing them.

Evengeline pulled down the sheet and examined her breasts and nipples. Other than how stiff her nipples had become from just the gentle caress of the cloth, she saw nothing unusual. There was no reddening of the soft mounds. Evangeline pinched one nipple between her fingers and felt no pain. Instead, the tingling sensation filled her mind of being strapped down on Mr. Witherbottom's table while he put the clamps on her nipples and tightened them.

She smiled at that thought and allowed her fingers to trace the path down her flat belly to the thatch of hair between her thighs. Probing through the coarse strands revealed no swelling even though Mr. Witherbottom's massive organ had stretched her cunt more than she thought possible. Quite to the contrary, her lips were as long and slender as before. Evangeline probed deeper, deep into the grotto that had accepted Mr. Witherbottom's essence, and found the passage slightly moist.

Evangeline inserted a second finger into the soft entrance and felt the sensations tighten her belly. A third finger caused her to catch her breath. Only moments later, her juices began to flow, slicking the way as Evengeline began moving those fingers in and out.

Her other hand went to her breast and felt the nipple sitting there, taut and erect, upon the tightly wrinkled nipple bed. Evangeline closed her eyes and remembered the intense sensation Mr. Witherbottom's clamps had caused. Taking that nipple between her thumb and forefinger, she pinched her nipple flat, then pinched tighter still until she felt her belly tighten into a tense knot.

Evangeline pulled her nipple up and shook her hand, just as had Mr. Witherbottom, and gasped at the shocks that raced through her body, shocks that were intense but not so intense as she had experienced in Mr. Witherbottom's study. She pinched harder in an attempt to duplicate those shocks and somewhat succeeded.

Evangeline filled her head with visions of lying on Mr. Witherbottom's table, her cunt lips splayed open and leaking her juices, and then plunged her three fingers inside her until she felt the stretching feeling again. In and out her fingers went as she pulled hard on her flattened nipple, in and out and ramming her hand into her stretched cunt lips. The tension in her belly spread to her hips, then to her thighs, and she groaned quietly as she began to arch up from her bed.

One final thrust that spread her cunt lips wide caused Evangeline to gasp, and the thrust that followed cause her mind to explode into a myriad of colors as her body contorted in an attempt to force her fingers as deep as Mr. Witherbottom had forced his swollen cock.

Evangeline hung there, her body suspended between her shoulders and feet as the shuddering sensations wracked her body, then fell back onto the bed panting. It was nearly the same feeling as she'd had when Mr. Witherbottom had battered her cunt with his huge cock.

Evangeline smiled to herself then, and let her fingers slide from her dripping cunt. She must discover if Mr. Witherbottom's promise of an even more shattering release was in fact true.

Ellen put down the book and closed her eyes. The orgasm the author had describe made her remember Beth's description of being bound with her nipples and pussy lips clamped while Gwen used a dildo to take her to her final release. Ellen knew the book probably was written by a man because most books of the time were, and would probably be a man's impression of what happened, but surely Beth had only said how she truly felt. Ellen touched her nipples and then felt the tightening caused by that touch.

As she lay there, lightly stroking the rigid shaft of her right nipple, Ellen wished she could find a man like Barry, a man who would introduce her to what she thought she wanted. He would tie her to a table, then excite her with pain that became pleasure, pleasure that would then wrack her body with the spasms of an orgasm. Ellen needed to know if she was truly a person who craved that.

The only guy of the group who had admitted to being dominant was Rick, but he hadn't said anything during the meeting. Maybe if he was willing, he would show her, but where? As Beth had said, there were no places on campus where they could go to be alone and have the things necessary to satisfy her need to know. She also didn't know if she could trust Rick since she didn't know him at all.

Beth's introduction had been by a man older than Rick, and Ellen thought it unlikely that Rick knew as much. No, it should be a man with experience in causing the pain that created such pleasure. Rick might know some things to do, but Ellen wanted to be taught by a man who understood her need, not some young guy who just enjoyed dominating women.

Walt was older, but he hadn't said if he was dominant of submissive. Ellen didn't think she could very well just walk up and ask him. He didn't seem to be submissive, but then, Beth hadn't thought Barry would be dominant either.

Ellen looked at the clock on the table beside the bed. It was nine, too early to go to sleep or she'd wake up at five. She saw the hair clips she'd taken out of her hair lying in a pile next to the clock.

A few minutes later, Ellen was lying on her back with her legs spread as far as the twin bed would allow, and parting the hair between her legs in order to clip a hair clip to her lip. She shuddered as the little teeth bit into the soft flesh, and then groaned quietly when she released the little handles and let the teeth bite deeper. The clips on her nipples had already tightened her core, and the sensation that raced through her when she pulled on the clip on her lips made her groan again.

Ellen tried using her fingers to penetrate her entrance, but remembered Beth saying how the dildo made her feel. Ellen rolled off the bed, winced as the clips on her lips brushed against her thighs, and then walked to her dresser and took out her hair brush.

Just walking the short distance from her bed to the dresser and back had made her stop and pant. The clips on her lips had rubbed together and caused the teeth on the clips to bite deeper. It happened again when she sat down and then rolled to her back. Ellen had to lay there for a few seconds before the shooting sensations ebbed a little and she could catch her breath.

Her hairbrush had a ribbed, rubber covered handle, and it was longer than her hand and half as thick as her wrist. Ellen slipped it between her lips and winced again when it pushed on the clips. She lay there and gasped at the little shocks of pain that raced from her lips to her core as she stroked the hairbrush handle up and down. When the rubber coated handle began sliding easily over her inner lips, Ellen rocked up her hips and move the rounded end to her entrance.

She caught her breath when she thrust the handle inside her. I went in a little and then stopped but Ellen kept pushing. She felt her lips being drawn up around the handle and then inside her passage. She imagined how that must look. In her mind, she saw her slender lips stretched tight and then begin to enter her. That thought made her moan.

She pulled the hairbrush back out, not all the way, but until she felt the tip poised at her entrance, then pushed it back in. Again she felt the feeling of her lips being stretched up and then following the hairbrush handle as it stretched her passage open. Ellen gasped, then pulled the hairbrush out again and winced when it pulled at the hair clips.

It took two more firm pushes before Ellen felt the bristles on the hairbrush against her flattened lips. The thickness filled her and stretched the walls of her passage and she moaned again before beginning to stroke the hairbrush handle in and out.

Ellen's mind filled with a faceless man using leather ties, swatters, and clamps that bit into her nipples and pussy lips on her before thrusting his thick cock inside her. Ellen rolled her head to the side and whispered to herself, "I need to be fucked. Fuck me...please fuck me."

When the orgasm hit her, Ellen used her hand to muffle the cry, but she couldn't do anything about what her body did. As the first wave swept her from her knees to her head, she dug her heels into the mattress and arched her body high. The second surge turned her legs to quivering jelly and she fell back down only to arch high as another raced through her.

Ellen fell back to the bed after the fourth and lay there with her breath coming in gasps and pants and her heart pounding so hard she could feel the surges of blood that raced through her.

Little aftershocks took away her breath when she pulled the hairbrush from her swollen lips and laid it on the table. More happened when she unclipped the clips from her pussy lips and nipples. Ellen covered herself with the sheet and blanket, then curled into a contented ball.

Yes, she had to find a man to do things like this to her, to stretch out her arms and legs until she was helpless to do anything except lay there and watch him put his clamps on her nipples and pussy lips and then feel the stretching of her passage as he rammed his cock inside her.

For the rest of that semester, Ellen went to the group meeting every Friday night. She learned that Walt was a dominant though he had also played the submissive role. She wasn't especially aroused when he told about how a woman had taken him to the point of ejaculation multiple times over two hours but stopped before that had happened. She didn't have a frame of reference for that, but she could think of how that must feel.

She'd tried doing that to herself a couple times, just exciting herself until she felt the oncoming of the orgasm and then stopping, but found she couldn't stop herself more than once. It would take someone else to do that, and she wanted to experience that as well.

She decided to write her essay on "Bound Love" instead of the other book. She finished reading the book a week before the essay was due, and spent that week describing how the plot had developed from the initial introduction of the characters to the conclusion where Evengeline had become Mr. Witherbottom's wife and participated in his escapades with other women as well as enjoyed his attentions when they were alone.

Mr. Allen had given her a quizzical look when she dropped it in the tray on his desk, but he didn't say anything.

Two weeks later, she sat through her final exams and then another two days of waiting for the final grades to be published. She was happy with all her grades, but even happier with her grade from Mr. Allen. He had given her an "A" for the class. At the bottom of the computer generated list of grades, he'd written a note.

"Sorry I didn't get your final essays back to you before finals. I'll be in my office from two to three for the next week so you can drop by and pick them up."

The next day, Ellen walked to the English building to pick up her essay. Mr. Allen was sitting at the desk and when she walked into his office, he looked up and smiled.

"Ellen, I was hoping you'd come by. I wanted to congratulate you on your essay. It was a thoughtful look at "Bound Love" and your explanation of the evolution of the plot showed both an excellent understanding of the techniques used by the author as well as how he used those techniques to develop his characters and make them into real people. Excellent job."

Ellen blushed and said "Thank you".

Mr. Allen then smiled.

"I do have one question. When I saw you with "Bound Love" that day, you said it was a present for your roommate. Why did you decide to use it instead of one of my other selections?"

Ellen's mind raced to think of an answer he would believe. She couldn't tell him the real reason.

"Well, I read a couple of pages, and it seemed more interesting that the other book I picked. I sort of got hooked on the plot and couldn't stop until I'd finished it. When I had, I looked at how it was written and decided to use it instead of the other one."

"What did you think of the subject matter? Most young women would have found it sexist, if not immoral."

Ellen chose her next words carefully. She didn't want Mr. Allen to think she'd liked what she read, but neither did she want him to think she was a prude.

"I don't think it was sexist at all, not given the time it was written. It was just a story about a girl who wants something different than most other women and a man who gives her what she wants. That's not being sexist. That's the author trying to explain how the girl felt about herself and a man who understood her."

Mr. Allen smiled.

"Maybe like you feel about yourself? I think when you read the book, you saw yourself as Evangeline and that's why your essay was so perceptive. Am I right?"

He was still smiling, and Ellen didn't know what to say.

"I...I don't know. I suppose I did identify with her a little. You've been telling us all semester that good writing should do that. That doesn't mean I'm like her though."

Mr. Allen leaned forward on his desk.

"That's not what I read in your essay, Ellen."

He smiled again.

"Ellen. I'm not judging you. I'm supporting you. If you are like Evangeline...don't misunderstand what I'm going to say because it isn't a proposition. It's only an offer. If you are like Evangeline, my wife and I would like to help you."

Ellen just looked at him, trying to figure out if he was telling her the truth, or if he was trying to talk her into something. He was still smiling, and it was a smile that seemed genuine. Her mother had warned her about men who offered to help girls, but Mr. Allen didn't seem like a man her mother had talked about.

Ellen took a deep breath.

"How could you help me if I was like Evangeline?"

Mr. Allen got up and closed the door to the classroom, then came back to his desk.

"My wife, Angie, is a psychologist, and she and I have a somewhat unusual relationship. We enjoy each other, of course, but we also enjoy practicing the same things the author described in the book with other people. Walt from the group meeting is one. Yes, I know of your attendance at those meetings. I can't attend them because of my position, but I follow them closely through Walt. That only reinforced what I read in your essay.

"My offer is only that. Should you accept, Angie and I can teach you about yourself and help you understand you don't have some sort of mental condition and that you don't have to feel badly about what you think. I assure you Angie will be with us at all times but will not participate unless you make that wish known.

He handed her a slip of paper.

"While you were a student in my class, university policy wouldn't permit me to make this offer. Now that you are not, I may, and as I said before, it is only an offer. Should you decide you do not wish such a thing, you need do nothing. If you believe Angie and I can be of help, we are always at home on Friday nights. All you need do is ring the bell."

As Ellen walked out of the English building, she was walking more from memory than by watching where she was going. Her mind was filled with both the fears of what might happen if she were to accept Mr. Allen's offer and the desire to finally experience what she'd read about and dreamed about for so many years.