When Lyssa met Joanna Ch. 07

"Lys, what's the matter, darling? Do the rings hurt?" asked Joanna.

"No, Jo. It's worse than that. The vibration of the moving chain through the rings has brought me close to orgasm. What if that happens while we're out? Oh, Joanna, it might spoil everything. Why can't things ever go right?' Her face clouded up.

"Sweet baby, it's no problem at all. I'll take care of that little situation whenever it pops up. Sit up on the table."

When Lyssa was on the table, Joanna dropped to her knees and bent to Lyssa's loins. Lyssa was already so close to orgasm that she went over the top in minutes.

"Oh, that's so much better, but we can't do that when we're out in public, can we?"

"Doll, we can just go powder our noses. We'll go into a stall and we'll get your rocks off. Sorry, I have a difficult time sticking to your technical terms. I'll give you release as often as you need it. I love doing that little chore for you almost as much as I love you.

Lys, Karla and Mom jumped all over me for torturing and beating you. Lys, I am so sorry I've hurt you in the past. I'll never hurt you again, ever. I love you too much. All I want to do is give you pleasure. Please believe me."

"Jo, I have a confession to make. When you put me on the post, I actually enjoyed it at first. It stirred up all kinds of sexual fantasies that I never had before, and it felt good up inside me. The knob felt good, but that, er, dildo felt better. When you were not around, I would squirm around on the dildo and slide up and down on it, just a couple of inches, but enough to fantasize that it was a man's penis going in and out. I never had an orgasm, but it felt great. I didn't like the catheter up inside me at first. It hurt and scared me. Then, my legs would start to cramp if you left me stuck on the post too long. But my fantasies were delicious; I really enjoyed them. I was a little sad when you stopped putting me on the post. After we go out a few times, I'd like you to put me back 'on the peg', as you call it, sometimes, but for only about twenty minutes each time. That's the longest I can fantasize, feel good, and not start to hurt. Being on the post for a long time is maddening. My legs cramp and my knees feel like they're going to buckle."

"You little scamp. And all that time I thought I was torturing and shocking you to get you to agree to be my sex toy. You played your part very well. I never knew you weren't struggling. I guess you would never have agreed to do my bidding using that ploy. I ought to turn you over my knee and spank your cute little bubble butt, uh, bottom."

"I wouldn't mind that at all, Jo. When you beat my bottom with the whips and straps, the first few strokes were sensuous or is that sensual – I never can remember the difference, but they started to really hurt after about a dozen. I would never have given in with the beatings either. Even though the strokes hurt like the devil, after a while, I would get close to orgasm. The nipple clamps did the trick. Actually, they hurt worse when you took them off. Blood would rush in and it would really hurt. I couldn't bear the clamps, but you know, there was something very sexual about them, too. I just couldn't stand the pain.

Everything you've done to me has given me some sexual pleasure in spite of the pain, even putting the catheter in me. I got a kick out of being able to pee whenever I felt like it, without having to find a toilet, putting paper on the seat, or standing above the seat, trying to keep my panties at half-mast, and my dress pulled up and tucked into my belt, or something, to keep it out of the commode. I felt that having the catheter in me was like having a penis and peeing in a urinal. Men have a lot more freedom peeing than we women have. The catheter made me feel like I'm missing something – a penis. I really wouldn't want one though. I enjoy being a woman. I can't wait until I can go to bed with a man, a special man, my husband.

Jo, you've never done anything to me that I didn't get enjoyment from. After I had no "choice" but to perform cunnilingus, I've enjoyed that, too. First of all, you taste delicious; from that first time you put your finger, wet with your vaginal fluids, in my mouth, I knew I'd enjoy licking you, but I just couldn't overcome my religious beliefs at that time. I love the way your inner flesh feels on my tongue. When your juices start to flow, I get excited, too. When I have my tongue up inside you, I feel that I have complete control over you; you start to quiver, and like a tuning fork, I begin to quiver, too. You are in my power at that point; and when you orgasm, I feel that I have created a masterpiece, a beautiful, musical opus. The juices you pour out then are a delicacy: a rich, savory broth that I can't get enough of. If, and when, you ejaculate, I revel in being able to induce that gush of goodness. I love working that miracle; I love doing that to you – for you.

You must think I'm awful and not like the demure, innocent child I seem to be, but Jo, I am that innocent girl you think I am. It's just that you have awakened something in me that I was not aware of. Through you, I will make a much better sex partner for my husband when I find him so don't feel guilty about what you did. I've enjoyed it all - even the pain. At times, I've even wished I were a lesbian. It's been a lot of fun being with you. I wish I could stay. I care for you, but I need freedom. The one thing I've really hated and can't come to grips with is the loss of my freedom. I absolutely need to be in control of my life; to be able to come and go as I please; to have no restriction of where I am and where I want to be. Jo, you have never done anything to me that I have really disliked, with the exception of keeping me locked up. I can't tolerate captivity. I've hated that, and it's the only thing you've done that I can't forgive you for. I'm very sorry, Jo."

"No, Lys, don't be sorry. I deserve that hate from you."

"Jo, let's not think about that right now. When can we go out and where are we going to go?"

Lyssa was completely unaware that by holding Brutus' leather control leash, she was in absolutely no danger from him. She thought that if she tried to escape, he would tear the rings through her pubic lips. Joanna kept that little secret to herself.

Every day, Joanna, Lyssa, and Brutus went for long walks – Lyssa and Brutus went for long runs. Joanna would run out of steam trying to keep up with them and sit it out, but watching that they didn't go beyond a certain point. She enjoyed watching Lyssa's beautiful legs flash in and out of the slits in her short skirt, but she would call Brutus' name and they'd run back past Joanna in the opposite direction. This could go on for hours. Lyssa was in great shape physically and she and the dog never seemed to get tired; one day, while Joanna was watching them, Lyssa stopped, shivered, and stood stock still for about a minute before she resumed running. She came running back to Joanna, all excited.

"I did it, Jo. I did it," she exclaimed.

"You did what, my sweet child?" asked Joanna.

"I found just the right rhythm of the chain through my labia rings, and the vibration brought me to orgasm. Oh what fun. Now, I can orgasm any time I want. Any time I'm running, that is. I wonder if I can do it when I'm dancing at home? I'm going to try. I can't seem to get enough orgasms. I have to make up for lost time. The only other ones I've ever had are the ones you've given me. My darn upbringing prevented me from masturbating.

Jo, thank you for giving me more freedom. I feel wonderful. Let's go home and make love."

------

Readers, I apologize for taking so long to finish this story. I'll try to hurry it along.

Please – more emails. They are my payment for writing here.

I found information about piercing, nipple and labia rings on the Internet. I cringed at first, but the more I thought about it, the more exciting I found it.

These endnotes are necessary for me to write, but please feel free to ignore them. They may not be critical to the story line, but they are my way of saying "Mea Culpa" for my transgressions on these pages.

By nature and by employment, I have an overwhelming need to explain my actions in detail. I find myself getting heavily into minutia and becoming extremely wordy. My editor is aware of this idiosyncrasy and, through patience, has kept a rein on me. She has pointed out that much extraneous detail is NOT important to this submission.

If left to my own devices, this story could have easily ended up with five or six hundred pages, a full novel. As it is, it will almost triple my originally intended output of three chapters. Still, a large portion of this story has ended up on the 'cutting room floor'. Don't be concerned; I have used all of the significant goodies. The missing details would have just bored you as this endnote is probably doing.

Another idiosyncrasy you have no doubt recognized by the first or second chapter is my difficulty – almost inability - to use strong sexual, scatological, or curse words. Although, in order to determine how to write this masterpiece, I've read quite a few stories in Literotica – whew – my face must have turned red and my juices flowed many times.

I try not to be prudish; however, the authors here write far beyond my comfort zone – and those are the female authors. I have yet to read male authors in Literotica. I'm sure their stories will overpower my senses. In my personal life, I have been known to use an occasional 'hell', 'damn', or even a rare 'shit!' when something has gone awry, but I never use the F word or, heaven forbid, something stronger. Of course that had to change as I drag my subconscious, libidinous fantasy onto these pages. Like Lyssa in the story, I have to steel myself in order to use strong words and deeds. Although I can use (harsh) medical terms with no difficulty, purely sexual terms and actions do not come easily to my tongue (no pun intended) or pen (keyboard?). When you come across those words in this story, note that they were not easy for me to write.

In order to write the flashbacks to When Lyssa met Joanna, I have had to grit my teeth so often that my jaws would hurt (not a good situation when oral sex is warranted). The flashbacks, Joanna's Story, are much stronger than the main story, but I deemed they were necessary to explain Joanna. The BDSM episodes in those flashbacks were NOT easy for me to write.

If you have reached this point, thank you for your patience and understanding.

Raven