Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/A/ASS14897.TXT

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 6.3 KB | 118 lines

@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
Today's installment of the continuing saga...@END_FILE_ID.DIZ


     I give her a few minutes, then go back into the room.  She's
staring at the monitor, transfixed by the image.  Her mouth is
open, and her breath comes in long, deep gasps, almost like sobs.
I step over to her and stand in front of her, blocking her
vision.  "Did you think it would be anything like this?" I ask as
I step aside.
     She inhales slowly.  "No.  I didn't.  I couldn't."  I reach
over and pull on her left clothespin, and her eyes close.  I open
the jaws and remove it, and she sags visibly, her muscles
relaxing.  Then the pain hits, and her head rolls back, a long
"Ahhhh" following.  I remove the other one and the effect is the
same.
     "Later tonight I might have you watch the tape, Kelly."  She
nods, and I notice that her eyes are filling with tears again.
"Get ready for the next installment," I say, and the panicked
look is back again.  I smile.  "Intensity is what it's all about,
Kelly, or didn't you know that?"
     "What are you going to do to me?"  She's looking at the
monitor again, her eyes wide.  I reach down and press my finger
inside her.  She's moist, soaking.  When my finger touches her
clit she moans softly.  I continue, and she begins to move her
hips; I hear the stiff spines of the turf on her skin, and I
wonder what part of her reaction is pleasure, and what is pain.
     "I'll do what I want, Kelly.  And you'll do what I say."
She looks up at me with equal measures of fear and something akin
to worship.  "There's much, much more," I tell her, "and you've
only begun to learn what my imagination holds for you."
     She looks back to the monitor.  "Anything," she says, and
her voice sounds resigned, but firm.  "I said anything, didn't
I?"
     "Yes, you did."  I take the scissors from my pocket and cut
her bonds.  "You're getting a short break," I say as I hand her
the scissors.  I want you to go into the bathroom, where you'll
find shaving things.  Razors, aloe vera gel, and some shaving
cream.  I reach to her crotch and run my fingers through her
hair.  "This needs to be smooth.  Shaved clean.  You have thirty
minutes to take care of it, along with anything else you need to
do."
     She goes into the bathroom, pauses as she touches the
doorknob.  "I remember," she says.
     I take the tripod and move the camera so it covers the
toilet and part of the shower, then check the tape in the VCR.  I
stop it and put in a fresh tape, press the record button.  "I'll
be back soon," I say.  "You get started."  Already she's sitting
on the toilet seat, snipping away at her pubic hair with the
scissors.  She's absorbed in what she's doing, and I stand there
watching her for a couple of minutes before leaving the room to
get things ready for the next act.
     "I'm ready," she calls out.  I look at my watch.  Twenty-
four minutes.
     She's standing in the bathroom, still in front of the
camera, which blocks the door.  I take the tripod and place the
camera so it faces the futon.  "Come take a seat over here," I
say, motioning to the futon.  I go to the VCR and turn it on.
     Her backside is red but not bruised, and her freshly-shaved
lips are pink from the razor.  She sits cross-legged and faces
me.  "What do you want me to do?" she asks.  I'm amazed at how
quickly she's adapting to the situation and think I should be
able to do something which will show her just how much of her
innocence she's going to lose.
     "I want you to masturbate for me, Kelly.  I want to see you
bring yourself to orgasm for me, and I want you to keep going
until I tell you to stop."
     She blushes a deep, swelling pink from her shoulders up to
her forehead.  "I can't," she says.
     "You not only can, you will.  You don't want to disappoint
me, do you?"  I say this partly as a challenge, partly as
chastisement, and partly as a thinly veiled threat.  "You'll do
it because I want you to," I say.
     Her thighs are together, and she places her right hand
tentatively between her legs.  Her hand begins to move, and she
looks at me for affirmation.
     "Open your legs," I say.
     She complies, and her forefinger searches out her clitoris.
She's reticent, but after a couple of minutes I can see the
change come over her face; her eyes close and she bites her lower
lip, the finger moving more confidently.  I can see her coming as
her shoulders quiver a bit, and she breathes in one long gasp.
Her hand stops, and she looks at me.
     "Again," I say.  And she does it.  This time, however, she's
more into what she's doing, and she even opens her eyes to look
at me.  She closes them and her face contorts with concentration.
     When she comes there's a little moan, and the gasp is longer
and deeper, but instead of stopping, she allows her finger to
play over her outer lips, then back inside to touch her clit
again.  "More?" she asks, and she acts as if this is what she
wants as well.  I nod, and she starts once more.
     Just as she's starting to get into it, I kneel beside the
futon and take the large latex dildo out from its hiding place
underneath.  She sees it coming and tries to pull away, but I lay
a warning hand on her belly and push down gently but firmly.  I
position the head of the device at her opening and push inwards
until just the tip of the head is in her.  "It's too big," she
says, but I push harder.
     She moans and reaches for my hand with both of hers, but I
push her away, taking her right hand and holding it so her
fingers are above her clit.  Her finger goes to work again, and I
press hard, until the rubber penis is all the way inside her.
She lets out a single loud moan, and she comes again, her
shoulders quaking with deep sobs from deep down inside her belly.


  Yeah, I know, I know.   When does it end?  More later...
--
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* "Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on   *
* his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting     *
* throats."  --H. L. Mencken                              *
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* LR's Gargoyle                                           *
* [e-mail]         [e-mail] *
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