The Voxe: A Girl and Her Music

"Oh, fuck..." I half-moaned and half-whined. "Lisa-Anne, plee-e-e-ease..."

"Patience, slave," she answered me, malice seeping from her tone. "All in due time."

She must've known what she was doing. I was starting to wish I hadn't let her do this to me, torturously affixing me to the bed with these infernal cuffs, until...

Suddenly, raw, hot goodness swirled and swelled inside, as I felt her cup me. She gripped, fondled me under the shirt, coercing helpless croaks of gratitude. My cheeks flushed as my head rode the pillows, flexing every muscle I could find, willing her unwithstandable touch to last. Her fingertips danced over my heaving orbs, rising and falling through the waves they generated—just as I did making love to myself in my own bed. She had me right where she wanted me: cluelessly guessing what would happen next.

I gasped as she roughly flipped up my shirt, exposing me to the light-bathed room. The cool, open air kissed my erect nipples and tickled my belly. Her tongue tantalizingly flicked my ear before I heard her hushed, raspy voice again.

"You will now squeal for me," she hissed.

For half a second, I wasn't sure if she expected me to do this on command, but when that half-second elapsed, she took away my choice. She seized ahold of my nearer, now exposed breast, lowered on me, and placed one of her tweeze-clamps on my nipple.

Gasp. It pinched, but took my libido and hormones in a choke hold. She was right; I would now squeal for her. And squeal I did.

"EeeeeeeeEEEEEEEE!!" I exclaimed at the top of my singer's register. Damn, it hurt so good. Hey, John Cougar—I know what you're talking about, dude. I heard her chuckle.

"There's a good slave," came her evil praise.

"FUCK!" I reiterated, passion with a dash of agony surging through me. "OH my GOD!"

"Glad you like them," she smiled malevolently.

Next thing I knew, our lips connected again, and I lost control of my faculties. I reflexively yanked on the cuffs, trying to get my arms free to wrap around her and never let go. I whipped my head between my wrists, as if looking at the cuffs really hard would magically unlock them. Meanwhile, Lisa-Anne attached the matching clamp to my other nipple.

I let out yet another gasp. "Ooooh!" I winced. It was a bit scary, as if two powerful insects had their legs tightly hooked on my nips. My eyes were subsequently forced back closed as Lisa-Anne slipped out her tongue and slicked me, jaw to temple, letting her hair fall over my face, triggering more tingles. She evidently had this whole routine mapped out. And dammit, it was woooorrrrrkiiiiiiiinnng...

For her next trick, she nosed me under the arm, kissed her way to the crook, and hickeyed the hot spot right at the inside of my elbow. Touchdown and checkmate, I thought, feeling myself surrender under her spell. Then she yanked me back out of the reverie again. The next number she pulled was to tug the chain between my nipple clamps.

"Ngggghh..." I groaned, involuntarily arching my back, trying not to admit it stung. Body up, I pushed and buried my head in the pillow, flipping hair all over myself. I felt her arm slip under my neck, her lips wreak havoc on it. All the while keeping hold on both captive nips with one little digit. As she orchestrated this whole kinkfest—not entirely unlike the way she did with my career—I couldn't help but wonder if she was as fiercely lit up as I.

"FUCK, Lisa-Anne," I repeated. "Oh, fuck..."

"I give the orders around here, young lady."

I knew I couldn't defy or argue, but my Little Letty was dying to come out and play. I hoped Lisa-Anne'd agree soon enough. Actually, however, if she'd already veritably arrested my nipples, what sort of treatment awaited Little Velette? Well, I found it difficult to care, engulfed in such dynamic passion. I just hoped she didn't plan to really injure me. Intense pain and I did not get along. I hated going to the dentist, and that only involved my mouth.

What felt like an eternity later, I detected fingers hooking the insides of my panties. An anticipatory thrill went through me. Yes, yes, yes! I thought, a happy smile curling up my cheeks. Yes, Lisa-Jodie-Anne Brockton-Foster, YES!

Finally, my soaked panties came down. I heard her chuckle with satisfaction, taking her first gander at my swollen red pussy. Little Letty was primed and ready for action.

"Well, well," was the next she said. "And who's this then?"

I giggled merrily. Fortunately, the panties sported elasticity, and held up halfway down my splayed legs. The grin on my face spread ear to ear as she at last rubbed my supple cunt. I purred like a kitty as she petted my kitty. She sublimely fingered the slit up and down, each stroke more glorious than the last. I pushed, trying to get more pressure applied. Moisture oozed its way through, greeting Lisa-Anne's fingertips.

My heart and pulse sped to blistering pace as she culled my labia apart. The further she separated them, the harder my clit grew. My system accelerated till I was about to explode, as Lisa-Anne leaned down on me...unleashed my clitty...and began licking.

I went wild. I screamed, twice as hard as I'd ever made myself scream jilling off. I yanked on the cuffs, even though I completely welcomed the treatment Lisa-Anne was putting me through. I was merely dying to be able to reciprocate the touch. I couldn't, but if she was looking to keep giving it to me till I blew like Vesuvius, by God, I'd take it.

My entire coochie began to bulge and throb. It was this moment Lisa-Anne chose to close the other end of my tweeze-clamps...on my now erect clit. My eyes almost propelled directly out like the corks in the champagne bottles we'd drunk tonight. The sensation turned into heavenly hell, exponentially multiplying on my vulnerable clit.

"YIKES!" I screamed, to Lisa-Anne's utter delight. She laughed at me.

"If I didn't own your ass before, I certainly do now," she hollered, above my overwhelmed screams. "You're my own little pet, kept right on my leash." She tugged the chain, now lightly jerking on both my nipples and clitty. I was starting to go out of my mind. This really was hellish heaven. I couldn't decide if I loved it, or if it was driving me insane.

"Like that, do you?"

My only reply was a series of howls. Little did I know a bigger surprise was still yet to cum.

"Talk to me, babe. Are you likin' it?"

She was toying mercilessly with me, knowing I couldn't form intelligible words.

"Well, if you're likin' that, you're gonna fuckin' love this..."

I was only half-able to focus on what she was telling me.

"If you have any...idea...what this will do...to a woman...

"Prepare to surrender your mind."

Oh, dear.

Holding my cunt wide open, Lisa-Anne Brockton proceeded to penetrate me—

With what I only later found out...was a French, fucking, tickler.

I kid you not, my friend. The little devil literally spiked me, with a French, fucking, tickler.

Oh my gosh, YOU EVIL...EVIL...WITCH!

She tugged my nips and clit, and tickler-fucked the hell out of me. My eyes squeezed shut so damn tight, the entire world turned every color of the Sapphic rainbow. She'd called it. She now owned my mind, as well as every part of my achingly tender body. Those cursed spikes pushed me far beyond my limits of sanity. Human electricity attacked from every direction, as I tried to leap out of my own skin. So this was the reason she'd tied me up. She wanted to give me an evening I'd definitely never forget. She kept me balancing on the dilemma of love or hate...of adore or despise...of adulate or loathe...

At this point, Dear Reader, I can only recount to you what I believe happened, as I'd officially lost my mind. I have to assume, however, that my French-tickled cunt was rapidly drained of all the cum I could produce. If I was being steered in the direction of an orgasm, I wasn't sure whether or not I should be terrified. I must be honest; I had no idea if she was even pulling on me with the clamp chain anymore. I must've severely underestimated just how deathly French-ticklish my pussy was.

By now I was all but trying to break the bed. Once again, I flopped, thrashed and lurched uncontrollably, yelling, swearing, crying. I loved Lisa-Anne and I hated her. I wanted to marry her, and to kill her. She'd better have hoped I never got the opportunity to tie her up, the rat! Oh, the sweet, sweet revenge I could've inflicted on her hot, sexy ass.

I had no idea which way was up anymore. Left was right, day was night, dark was light, black was white. I was beyond hoarse. Thank God I didn't have a show scheduled right after this. I was in no condition to sing right now, though Lisa-Anne could argue that I was singing, for her. Crooning my goddamned heart out at her mercy.

Then she made the ultimate upping of the ante.

She raised her voice to carry over mine, and spoke dynamically, with deliberate words.

"'I always believed that fear belonged to other people'..." she told me ominously.

OH MY GOD.

"'I heard someone screaming...and it was me.'"

She was. She was! She was Jodie-quoting me!

Oh, God, not Nell... I found myself mentally entreating. I can't resist Nell! Please, please, PLEASE, not Nell!

But she knew. She knew my sexual kryptonite.

And damn her, she wasn't afraid to take advantage of it.

"'Chickabee...

"'Chick-a-beeeeee...'"

That did it. I unleashed the mother of climactic shrieks. The orgasm went up under me like a landmine. She milked me dry from the inside. My toes curled as the undulation rode, thundering through me head to feet and back. I was stormed through and again by the raging orgasm, to and past the point of being unable to take it. I actually began begging for it to be over. I couldn't stand it anymore.

But up to me, it wasn't. Lisa-Anne wouldn't let up till she was through. She continued relentlessly fucking me, prolonging what had become an entirely new form of torment. Unbeknownst to me, she'd been slowly counting since it began. And still in Nell's voice.

"Seeeeeeeveeennnn..."

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

"Eeeeeeiiiiight..."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!"

"Niiiiiiiiiine..."

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!"

At long last, mercifully, it was finished.

"Ah!" I think she said, in her normal voice. "And there, baby-slave...is my ten percent.

"...Now then. Let's discuss your next album, shall we?..."

*****

There you basically have it, Reader. As you've seen, life can be quite challenging, and also wonderfully fulfilling. The seven and a half years since our tryst have remained more of the same. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Experiencing Lisa-Anne Brockton and her wild ways was the optimum example of my affection for hot, kinky women. She was bold, she was biting, she made me like it rough. She could be cold, calculating and ruthless when she wanted, which isn't a bad thing in your manager/agent. I don't want to further my career at the expense of anyone else's, but, that's show biz. People get screwed, in more ways than one. She's a cruel business.

The bottom line is that I get to do what I love for a living. It's where I feel at home. Were it up to me, I'd never ever stop. And according to countless articles of fan mail I've gotten, should it be up to them, I'd never stop either. True fans are simply the absolute best. They're there if you just want someone to sing and play for, they don't criticize or complain if you make a little goof, they're thrilled and starstruck to see you...it's the most wonderful career a little girl from Cincinnati could ask for. It's a lot of work, and not always fun work, but the rewards outweigh the drawbacks by a lightyear. Just think what I would've missed out on had I not decided to take that chance eleven years ago. And whom I'd have missed out on as well. I found both loves of my life in one fell swoop.

Thank you, my beloved Voxers, and thank you once again. You have been wonderful. I love you all. I dearly hope we'll meet again soon. In the meantime, please check my tour schedule. Perhaps I'll be in your town. Till then, I am Velette Cora Voxe—nee Vanderbilt—an international, multi-platinum, million-selling song composer and recording artist.

Just a girl and her music.