The Story of Jasmine

Jasmine's vagina sparked again as he nibbled and sucked at her pussy. She was tied upright to the bedhead and her eyes were blindfolded. She was gagged and her body was crisscrossed with a latticework of leather straps and clips that dug in and aroused her. It was a play on the Fifty Shades scene, and Jack was milking her for every drop she could produce from her crotch. The leather had the added bonus of a heated wire that kept her body aroused, and his tongue did the rest. She was pulsing and pumping but it refused to give her the satisfaction of orgasm. Finally she gave in and begged him.

'Oh fuck, I give in, make me cum already!' She screamed out, and with a smile he flicked a switch and slid the ribbed dildo into her. She was so pent up that it was all she needed to cum, and she thrashed as the bed was soaked beneath her crotch.

'That's twenty three minutes and forty seconds. You beat my teasing record by eleven minutes!' He said.

After the couch, they had moved to the bedroom where she took him up the ass with a numbing/ice condom, and it had made her cum without touching her breasts or snatch. Then they played the teasing game, seeing how long each could hold themselves off. Despite Jack's downtime on the reload, she beat him by almost twelve minutes.

'Well, I'm fucked. How about a cuddle in bed?' He offered, chucking the toys in his drawer. Jasmine, previously expecting to go home, agreed with only a look from Jack. 'Don't think you're going home after that, Missy!' He had said, and so they had tucked down together and flicked off the light.

She only had one dream that night, a rarity for her, but it was the usual. She was tied to a bench and hot women who weren't really there smothered thick golden oil all over her body and she began to lose her mind and sink into a golden oblivion and she was telling her whole life as fast as she could before her head was swallowed into a sea of golden liquid. The other girls were gone, sunk already, contented smiles on their faces. Jasmine just sped to finish spilling her life out to a microphone dangling above her before it seeped over her face and took her forever too, erasing her mind and turning her into a mindless sex slave-

Jasmine had shot awake then, sweating hard, and Jack who had been listening gently held her. He said nothing and she appreciated that he knew she needed comfort physically but space mentally. He just shushed quietly in her ear, holding her close until she dosed off again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jasmine woke to a beautiful morning, the sun shining in through the window. She stretched gloriously, her bosom popping out from the quilt. Beside her, Jack awoke too, and gave her left tit a morning peck before jumping up. No morning after regrets for him this time. He was sure. He knew she was the one. Apparently, so did she, he thought, looking fondly at her back, and at her glorious silhouette framed in the sunshine. He was glad he had her.

After sharing a rich breakfast with him, Jasmine had to get back to her hotel room before work. She apologized profusely but he didn't take a bar of it. He even offered for her to stay here with him. She was tempted too, but she turned him down with the promise of thinking about it. She grabbed her things and left, catching a cab home.

When she arrived, Jasmine entered the front desk area expecting to see Lucas lounging around or his father asleep in the chair. But they were both there, and the father was in the process of shouting some sort of abusive profanity at his son. Apparently she had walked in at the wrong time, but she didn't know half of it yet. The father froze mid-swear-word and turned to look at her. An angry grin came onto his face as he saw who it was.

'You! You, you little skank! You fucking whore! You dirty little fucking shit! How dare you bring your dirty skanky whore toys into my establishment!' He yelled at her, his voice already layered with at least a few bottles of something strong. 'You get your whore ass up to that room and pack up your shit and then you GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT!' He shouted, spitting in his rage. Jasmine just took a step back, slightly terrified and very confused. At his furious pointing she went up to her room where Lucas opened the door for her with a shameful face. He didn't look at her, so she wondered if this had been his fault.

Just then she came around the corner and saw her bed. Her heart fell as the final puzzle piece fell into place. Her bags had all been upended on the floor, all her belongings rifled through, but it was the things on the bed that were the cause of his rage. Her adult toys, the ones she had bought yesterday, were strewn about the bed. Some had fallen off, and one or two had clearly been the subject of his rage, lying broken on the floor. She went to them, upset not just at his infernal rage but that her belongings, everything she had worked for, all her private things, had been carelessly thrown about.

Her notepad was torn and pages were missing, her clothes lie in wrinkled piles. She knelt where her small travel bag she stored her clothes in lay, upturned, and she held the one feminine thing she had ever liked in the world in her hands. It was a dress; a golden short dress, not skimpy and not too formal, with little cute yellow threading criss-crossing the collars and cuffs. It was torn down the side, unwearable now. Her heart sank as low as possible at this. She was being kicked out; her possessions, the victims of a drunken power crazy rage, lay dirty and broken, everything she had ever bought with her own hard earned money, and worst of all, she had nowhere to go.

She grabbed the dress close, scrambling to pick up everything she could. His gestures were frantic now and he was spitting something unintelligible. Finally, as he screamed get out for the twentieth time, she stood and half-ran, half crawled past him. He almost made to hit her, but some pathetic spark of empathy triggered in his alcohol-ruined brain and he held his arm. She scrambled out, crying. She caught a glimpse of Lucas's face, down turned, ashamed and upset. Then she was down the hall.

'Fucking dirty whores. Skanks! Sluts! I never fucking liked those sex crazy bitches!' He mumbled under his breath. 'Fucking hate them. Never ever want to see one in my prized hotel again! Never!' He slammed the door to his room, leaving his son to tend to the counter as he usually did most nights. He would drink more and sleep the night away on the chair, or more likely, the floor, while Lucas sat at the counter and dealt with the mundane life of the stool, the radio and the empty reception room.

'I'm... I'm sorry, Mistress.' Was all he said.

And he slumped down behind the counter, and closed his eyes.

Jasmine ran out onto the street, which was dampening with droplets of water. A storm front had come over, and it was about to poor. She stood under a bus stop and unwrapped the pathetic bundle she had left. Her sun dress, torn, dirty, creased and now wet. A small make up bag she kept handy for emergencies. The frilly cuffs, a ribbed dildo and a bottle of oil. That was it. No money, no suitcase, no clothes save the dress and what she had on. She sat down, dejected, her entire new life's work reduced to less than the Salvos would take.

She sat there for a while, just wondering what she would do now. She had nothing. nowhere to go. That was the worst place for a long while; and without any of the money she had earned, she couldn't even buy a tent.

She looked almost longingly back down to the hotel front; the dingy light filtering out the dirty window. He would be sitting there, as he usually did, his father asleep, drunk. She was almost temped to go back and talk to him, but then she remembered the look on his face. He had been the reason she was here now. He must have searched her room and found her new stash of sex toys. The little shit had thought they were for him and was admiring my choices when his drunk of a father had found him. She felt a tiny tinge of anger at this, at his betrayal, at his blatant stupidity even though she was not only paying him more than full rent but also with sexual favors.

As she looked back at the doorway, she saw it open slightly. The boy, carefully, as though in the wrong, came out with a bag of trash. Little shit,' Jasmine began in her head. But then he stopped, just around the corner, away from the window. He had some sort of case in his hand, which he set in the shadows with care. Then he made a fuss of putting the bag in the rubbish and going back in.

What the...? Jasmine wondered. She got up, leaving the dress and toys there, and investigated. With a shock, she realized it was her travel bag, the small suitcase she kept packed with clothes. She opened it, unsure, and found an arrangement of her clothes, perfumes and cosmetics, her notepad and pens and books, and even a few of the unbroken toys stuffed inside. Jasmine looked around, before picking it up and running back to her shelter.

He gave them back to me... she thought. He really didn't mean for it to happen. She managed a tiny smile then, happy that at least she had something.

But she still had nowhere to go.

Or did she...?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As soon as the door opened she began blurting out the story she had so carefully concocted on the way there. 'I am so so sorry to come calling back like this but well you see I got kicked out because he found my toys that I bought from you and then his dad came in and he was drunk and he made me leave and I barely even have anything and I-'

'Hey hey hey hey, slow down, slow down. You got kicked out?'

'Yes, um, his dad was drunk as usual and he found his son looking at my collection and he went off his nut.'

'Here, come in, you're soaked. Tell me about it over a hot one.'

She went in after him without a complaint, happy enough to accept him. When you had nowhere to go, you took what you could. She had learned that in Syria, and it had saved her tits on a few occasions.

'Is that all you have?' Jack asked.

'Yes. The rest was smashed and torn and he threw me out straight away. His son got this for me, otherwise I'd really have nothing.'

And Jasmine told him the story. She told him everything, him being the last person she truly trusted.

When she was done, he held her lightly. She was content; content simply to lie back and let him help her, which was an oddity in itself for her.

'Oh, FUCK!' She said suddenly. 'Work!' She jumped up, scaring him and spilling her drink. 'I'm late! I'm way way late!'

'Hey, wait a minute, its ok. It's alright. Where do you work?' he said, grabbing her and forcefully stopping her in her panic.

'Uh, the fish and chip shop down my street.'

'Stay here a minute. Let me sort it.' He went into the other room. Jasmine, fretting that she might lose the job too, sat tensely. When he returned she jumped at him.

'What? What? Did you call them?'

'Yes. She said its fine, you don't need to come in today. It's a slow day and you need to find your feet again first. You can come back in a few days.' Jasmine heaved a sigh of relief.

'I should have called myself... I've been so... Dependent, today...' She said absently.

'Hey, every once in a while, you gotta learn to lean on someone else.' He smiled kindly. 'And since you're moving in with me, I don't see anyone better.'

'I... I'm moving in?'

'Well, I don't see where else you can go.' He smiled. 'Besides, I kinda want you here.'

Jasmine just grinned and hugged him.

'Oh, thank you, Jack. Thank you.'

'Don't mention it, Jasmine.'

It took Jasmine some time to settle in, but settle in she did. Jack's first sight love proved to be true, and Jasmine began to develop her own affection for him. Jack learned slowly about Jasmine's history and came to appreciate fully her unusual attitude, while Jasmine began to trust him more and rely more on his help. Her routine developed into a guide, and then just into habits, as she allowed him more and more into her personal life. She allowed him into her physical life, too, with common sex. Sometimes, it was merely a good, hard fucking. Other times, like their first, it was a kinky adventure. Always it was guaranteed to be fun, and always it relieved her of her stress. But something began to worry Jasmine as her new found ability to orgasm became more normal and accepted. Every time, just as she came, she would have this overwhelming wave of, well, something come over her. She couldn't place it, but it felt like a very soft and tingly nausea. It would wash over her body and mind, dulling out everything, blurring her thoughts and making her skin prickle and tingle. Even though now days it only lasted a few seconds at the peak of her climax, she still felt it too abnormal to ignore.

And her dreams. They weren't every night anymore, but more often than not she'd wake with a start, panting, sweating, her skin still prickling and her body still numb. She still felt it, very physically, as though the dream's vividness was so real it manifested itself in her body. Her muscles would be weak and sensitive and her skin would tingle at the touch, and her sixth senses would be as dull as a bat. And her mind. it would be cloudy for several minuted after; seemingly incapable of piecing together a coherent idea.

But it would fade and she would sleep again, and no dreams would come until the next night.

Her mind has sectioned it off and relieves itself in her dreams.'

'Her subconscious has formed an almost unbreakable bond with the substance.'

'It was only the first strain. We have since toned down its power. Our latest subjects prove to be much more resilient to long term side effects-'

'I know that. The question is, in light of our current... Issues... Do we use this valuable opportunity to once more harness her abilities, or do we leave her and progress with the first test ready prototype of the chip?'

'If you want my recommendation, sir-'

'Yes, that's why I asked you. But make it simple. Answers, not dribble.'

'The chip is promising. She is just another girl with a vagina and a weakness. With the chip, we could have any girl or boy in the world.'

'My my, you have changed your tune. Was that due to your implantation or do you just drool at the very idea of having total dominant control over any pair of boobies this worthless world has to offer?'

'I dare say, both, sir.'

'I'd agree. Either way, i'm glad you've learned your place. Fucking that test subject was a big disadvantage to us.'

'I know, sir.'

'How are you getting used to your new member?'

'The, uh, new features take some getting used to.'

'You mean the metal shell, the electric pistons, or the nerve link it has with your brain?'

'Uh...'

'Of course. When you've worn it in, we might need to test it.'

'Yes, sir.'

'In the mean time, I suggest you practice your responses. Never know when someone might need a servant.'

'...'

'You're right. The chip is a promising way forwards. We have twenty two young females to prove that. I think it's time you paid a visit to Russia. Collect our little asset and bring him here. He is to begin work on the neuro circuitry immediately.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Oh, and send an agent to Jasmine's new establishment. Sometime when her little boyfriend isn't around. Put him out for a hew hours if you need to. Make sure her mind stays frazzled. I may still want her yet.'

'Yes sir.'

Jasmine was cleaning up after breakfast when the door knock came. She dried off and answered, starting with an apology for her dirty clothes. As soon as she had the catch undone, the door was pushed open and two men in suits came in. The leader held his hand to her face, palm facing her, fingers outstretched, like he was meaning to grab her face. Some invisible force washed over her and her consciousness slipped away. Her remote sleeper, deactivated that day in the basement of the hotel, charged just enough by the force to release its signal. Jasmine dropped back onto the couch. The other man, holding a briefcase, set it down on the table and opened it. It was a laptop, and it was monitoring the local area via radar.

Jasmine's assailant wasted no time. He swiftly undressed her, injected something into her neck, and took a long metal tube from his pocket.

He slid it into her lady hole, repeatedly whispering as he did so: 'Hush, Jasmine. Hush. Relax. Just slip into the golden bath. The oil coating your whole body, making you tingle all over. Hush. Relax.' He switched it on and it buzzed, an electrical current exciting the nerves in her vagina. Her inner thigh muscles twitched and her pelvic muscles contracted around the sex bullet. Her hips raised and lowered, and a smile of content covered her face. To any outside viewer, the moment would have been surreal; two men, dressed more like hitmen than casual callers, one on a very new tech laptop and the other crouched between the legs of a very pleasured naked lady.

Periodically he flicked a setting up, and she responded instantly, hips jerking up and down and moans escaping her lips.

'Nerve tracker implanting now.' The vaginal intruder stated bluntly, pressing the switch. Inside, while the sleek metal released a stronger current, a tiny needle extended swiftly from its tip and injected a microscopic device into the soft tissue there. Jasmine's face registered a tiny frown, but the device's pleasure quickly covered it. He flicked the setting to max, and her back arched, hips going crazy, screaming out as she clenched hard around the shocking bullet. She spurted hard, cum shooting out the small gap under the electrical dildo. He left the device in her until she relaxed, then switched it off, slid it out and stashed it under the couch's pillow. Then, he stood, signalling to the other. They left, closing the door behind them. Jasmine just lay there, naked, smiling, the occasional muscle twitching between her legs.

*****

So far, this is the end of the story. I'm interested in writing more but haven't found the drive behind story line yet. If you'd like to hear more, please let me know! ;)