Christina: PrankedbyChristina Samuels©
It was early morning on a sultry day in early July. My sister, Deanna, was visiting, and since she likes to sleep in, I decided to take advantage of the fact and stripped down to my birthday suit to catch a few rays sunbathing nude on my very-secluded deck. As I lay there on my belly, the sun's soothing warmth slowly worked its magic, and before I knew it, I was sound asleep . . .
A sharp slap landing squarely on my bare bottom brought me rudely back from the land of dream. I tried to roll over and sit up, but couldn't. I struggled. To no avail. Though I had no idea how or when, I quickly realized that someone had somehow managed to tie my wrists and ankles (most securely) to the chaise lounge.
"What the fuck?!" I screeched.
"Such language!" Deanna laughed.
I thrashed. "Let me loose!" I demanded.
"Not a chance! Opportunities like this don't present themselves very often."
I tried my best to calm down. "Please Deanna. Let me loose. This isn't funny." I said in my most subservient voice.
"What? The fact that I have you at my mercy, or that I was able to tie you like this without waking you?"
"Both. Now let me loose."
"I don't think so."
"Please?" I almost begged.
Deanna's tone was . . . odd.
"From the day Mom and Dad brought you home from the hospital, you've been one colossal pain!" she said in a mock-lecture, "Trying to steal my boyfriends. Raiding my closet. Always wanting to tag along . . ."
I hated to admit it, but she was right. But hey! She was five years older than me and got to do all the fun stuff while I was supposed to sit home and play with my dolls! It wasn't fair!
"This time, I'm making sure you stay put while I go out and do a little shopping."
"Please Deanna. Take me with you?" I pouted, hoping to . . . I don't know what.
"You may be turning fifty on your next birthday, but you're sure not acting like it!" she laughed, then turned serious and added, "I'm the one in charge here, NOT you."
"Okay!" I exploded, hoping to throw her off her game and somehow win my freedom, " But if you leave me like this, I'll be burned to a crisp in no time!"
"No you won't." she said mockingly.
Unexpectedly, icy cold lotion snaked down my back, and across my butt. Deanna's even colder hands worked it in.
More lotion down my right leg and foot. Even more down my left. The coating was thick.
Left arm and hand.
Right arm and hand.
Right side of my face. Left side.
"Now. To keep you entertained." Deanna said, lightly tapping the sides of my breasts. . .
I lay there. Waited. A moment, maybe two drifted by. Her delicate touch not-so-delicately pulled back my right butt cheek. The smooth, bulbous head of a (very) thick butt plug pressed against my opening.
"No. No. No! Noooo!" I cried.
Far more easily than expected, my sphincter yielded.
She pushed a bit harder,
Three, increasingly larger ridges made entry. I fought to accept the intruder. "How big is that thing?!" I squealed.
"A mere seven inches." Deanna replied as the base nestled against me.
I wriggled my butt, trying to adjust the plug's position.
"And now for Miss Puss." Deanna giggled.
I braced. Waited. The pointed end of a vibrating egg kissed my pussy lips, then slid inside.
"There!" Deanna proclaimed, with childlike glee.
The egg danced around my inner walls. "How long are you going to leave me like this?" I asked.
"I don't know. Til four thirty, five."
Shit. Fuck. Hell. Damn. . . The expletives flooded my mind, but fortunately didn't find their way out my mouth.
"You can't leave me that long with nothing to drink!" I exploded once more.
Don't know why I did that. It didn't work the first time.
" I'll die! Literally!"
"Got you covered."
Deanna sat a gallon jug of water – partly frozen – on the floor next to me, and inserted a long plastic tube, which she clipped to the edge of the chaise. "And before you, 'go' there . . . if you need to, well, accidents will happen."
Fuck. Hell. Damn. . .
"But, in case modesty wins out, I'll leave your cell phone so you can dial 911 or something."
Deanna placed the phone in my hand and curled my fingers around it.
"Thanks heaps." I muttered.
With that, Deanna was gone. Immediately, I tried futilely to get loose.
On try number six, I gave up. A combination of energy expounded and the unrelenting sun's warmth had left me hot and bothered. (Well, hot. The egg was responsible for the bothered part.)
Deflated and frustrated, I lay there and tried to fight-off the sensations welling within.
It was maddening! Almost as if it had a road map, the egg repeatedly touched all the 'right' places at all the 'wrong' times. "This sucks!" I screamed aloud.
The egg nestled against my clit. Almost instantly I came in a crashing orgasm.
"OH FUCK!!" I screamed, "FUCK!!!! OH YEAH!! YEAH!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!"
My voice echoed through the neighborhood.
"You go girl!" an unknown someone yelled.
I lay there. Mortified. Listened. Silence.
"Fuck yeah!" I laughed softly, in quiet celebration.
The egg shifted gears and moved deep inside, touching spots that Aaron's long, gorgeous cock only visits when he takes me doggy style: À la négresse.
Or to be politically correct: in "The Turtle" position.
Anyway; I tried my best to relax and enjoy. It took quite a while, but I finally succeeded.
A cooling breeze stirred. I closed my eyes tight and let my mind wander. Fantasy after fantasy flowed freely. With reckless abandon, I explored my darkest desires.
A foursome: Aaron (my husband) in my mouth; Sam (Becky's lover) in my pussy; Jeff (Rachel's husband) up my ass.
A cum shower: Jeff's, Sam's and Aaron's cocks soaking my face and breasts. Becky and Rachel licking me clean.
Strap-on sex: Miranda (see: Becky's Instruction Ch. 02. Not my best effort.), savagely pounding my ass, then mouth, then pussy.
The sound of my ringing cell intruded.
I reached down, picked it up and put it on speaker. "Hello?" I said timidly.
It was my big sis.
"Hi." I responded dejectedly.
"You still tied up?" she asked, her gloat shining through.
"A puddle of cum between your legs?"
"Yes." I reluctantly admitted, "Where are you?"
Despite my anger, I somehow managed to keep my tone as submissive as possible.
"Old Navy. I'm trying on the sexiest little swimsuit! Two piece; not quite a thong, but almost."
"You've got to be kidding." I said dryly.
"I didn't know Old Navy had a senior citizens department!"
Shit! Why did I say that?! What was I thinking?! Now granted, Deanna isn't as young as she used to be, but she still has quite a body. As Aaron reminded me the other night when he caught a glimpse of her doing yoga (naked) in the middle of the living room! Damn! Why did I give her more reason to prolong my captivity?!
"Me Ow!" Deanna laughed, "A bit catty, are we?"
"I'm sorry." I said softly, "I didn't mean it."
"Sure you didn't."
"See you in five or six hours." Deanna laughed.
"No. Wait! Please! I want loose!" I whined, like I did when I was . . . three?
"Then call someone." Deanna said, sounding more annoyed than anything else.
"Like who?!" I snipped as if her question was the dumbest ever asked.
Stupid! Why can't I learn to leave well enough alone?! Don't answer that!
"I don't know. Aaron. . . Rachel . . . Becky. . . Janelle. Janelle! She's right next door!"
A wave of orgasm washed over me. "I can't do that!"
"Why not? Too embarrassed?"
"Please Deanna. Please?!"
Back to demanding mode.
"You're breaking up." she laughed, "Later!"
I closed the phone as yet another wave crashed . . .
A second (or was it an hour?) later the phone rang again. I answered. Put it on speaker.
It was Becky.
"Did I get you at a bad time? You seem a bit distracted."
"No. Just doing a little nude sunbathing."
Why did I say that?!
"Mind if I come over and join you? I have the day off, and its been a while since I let it all hang out."
My mind raced as panic set in.
"No. Sure." I heard myself say, "Except. . ."
I needed a lie. Not just any lie, but one that would somehow make Becky decide to stay home.
"Except?" Becky repeated.
"As soon as she gets back from the mall; Deanna and I are going over to the nursery to pick up some mulch. Which should be any time now."
"No problem. While you two shop, I'll tan! See you in a bit."
Before I could utter another word; she hung up. I scrambled to access call-back. The phone slipped from my hand, and skittered almost out of reach. With the utmost of caution, I retrieved it and pressed the requisite keys. It went straight to her voice mail. I closed the phone, and clutched it tight. "What am I going to do?!" I said aloud.
The egg moved, and found my g-spot. The orgasm it triggered was intense. Wave after wave after wave after wave of mind-blowing pleasure washed over me.
"Oh god. Oh god. Oh god." I moaned.
My body ached.
I could barely breathe.
My heart pounded.
My mouth was as dry as a desert. I took the tube between my lips and sucked the miniature cock for all I was worth. Swallowed. Sucked some more. Swallowed.
The phone rang. I checked the caller ID. It was Aaron.
"Hi babe." he said, "What . . ."
Cutting him short, I quickly laid out my dilemma. ". . . If you hurry, you can beat her here, and save me a LOT of explaining."
The laughter emanating from Aaron's end – his, and his secretary's – made my heart sink.
"Julie's sitting right there, isn't she?" I almost sobbed.
"Hi Chris!" Julie said.
"And you have it on speaker."
"That I do." Aaron said.
"I need help!" I laughed/ cried.
"Wish I could." Aaron said, "But I have a meeting in two minutes. If you want; I could send Julie over."
More than a little embarrassed, I hung up.
The egg traveled again. This time it nestled back against my clit.
"Mmm. Yes!" I whispered.
Unfortunately, it wasn't happy there, and quickly moved on to an innocuous corner of my womb to hang out. "Fuck!"
Frustration! How was I going to keep Becky from finding me like this? I needed a plan.
The egg inched back to my clit. My concentration shattered as orgasm returned. I lay there and let myself enjoy. Short lived. Like the little bastard I'd 'cum' to know, the fucking little ovum somehow sensed the release I was reveling in, and moved off to an unexplored (quiet) corner near my cervix to catch the show.
"What the hell? This isn't fair!" I screamed at a whisper.
I ground my hips into the chaise in a vain attempt to dislodge the egg.
A flicker of hope. "My Kegel exercises!" I laughed.
It had been a while (too long a while) since the last time I'd invited those wonderful little muscles that lined my pelvic floor to join in a game of 'Make Chris Cum', but being the troopers that they are, I was hoping and praying that they would remember how to play.
I closed my eyes tight. Concentrated. With renewed purpose (and having resigned myself to the fact I was going to have to explain myself to Becky), I focused my attention, and slowly began to manipulate the egg.
"Okay. I can do this." I said softly, "I know I can."
The battle was on! A struggle at first, but then . . .
"Yes. Yes. Yes!!!"
The egg moved closer and closer to my clit. "Yes. Yes!"
As if on cue, the phone rang.
"Fuck! Just when I'm starting to win. . ."
Ring number two. I picked up the phone. "Please be Becky. Please be Becky. Please!" I said before answering.
"Still tied up?"
It was Deanna.
"You know I am!" I snipped.
"Watch that tone, missy, or I'll hang up."
"Please Deanna. Don't. Becky's on her way over, and I can't have her find me like this! If you left the mall this very instant, the way you drive, you could get here just ahead of her."
Yeah. Right! Even Danica Patrick couldn't drive that fast! What was I thinking?!
"Why not call Aaron?" Deanna said, in her 'helpful' voice, "I'm sure he'd love to lend you a hand. Or some other body part."
What?! How did . . . Had I been set-up?! The timing of his call was a bit suspicious.
"Or Janelle! If you asked her real nice, I bet she'd be over in the blink of an eye."
"What's this obsession with Janelle?!" I demanded.
"Obsession? No obsession. I just think it would be hilarious to see the look on her face when you explain to her why your trussed like that with a purple people eater sticking in your ass!
"As straight laced as she is, I doubt she even knows what anal stimulation's all about, let alone why you get off on it the way you do!" Deanna laughed.
"I don't 'get off' on it!" I protested, backpedaling like crazy, "And as for Janelle . . . well; she's experimented, a time . . . or two."
"Really? Tell me about them."
"You're breaking up again." Deanna laughed.
She hung up.
As quickly as I could, I accessed call-back. It rang. A millisecond later, the not-so-distant sound of Deanna's trademark ring tone caught my attention. She answered.
"Hello?" she said, trying hard not to laugh.
"Where the fuck are you!" I demanded.
"On the patio." she giggled, "Got you good, didn't we?"
"Becky's sitting right beside me."
"Having fun, Chris?" Becky yelled, loud enough for me to hear her without the aid of the phone.
"No I'm not." I said through clenched teeth, "Now get your sweet asses up here and untie me!"
"So pushy." Deanna said.
"She sure is!" I heard Becky say in the background, "Who does she think she is?"
"I don't know." Deanna said.
"Please?!" I said, trying my best to fight off the next wave of orgasm.
Silence on their end.
"Please?" I said, my voice (like my pussy) dripping with sweetness.
"Since you asked so nicely." Deanna said.
This time, I was the one who hung up.
Another wave of orgasm.
Another wave of orgasm crashed.
A gentle touch (Becky's) spread my butt cheeks.
The orgasm rapidly subsided.
A less gentle touch (Deanna's) removed the butt plug.
I yowled as the bulbous head made its rapid departure. Closed my eyes and waited for one of them to remove that torturous egg. It didn't happen.
"You get her hands. I'll get her feet." Deanna said, with a twinge of . . . tenderness?
I held still as they untied me. Rolled on my side and swung my legs over and sat up. Almost fell on my face as a final orgasm drained my brain of the few last few bits of oxygen. Caught myself and straightened as the two voyeurs watched with delight as my quaking fingers fished the egg from my pussy. "Whose idea was this anyway?" I asked, as the sopping toy slid from my grip and landed between my splayed legs.
Like a pair of silly schoolgirls, Becky looked at Deanna; Deanna at Becky. In unison they replied: "Hers."