Archive for the ‘preggy movies’ Category

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Friday, May 1st, 2009

The sun shone brightly as I entered the gate, wondering about the nature
of this house call – would this be an easy policy to sell?

There were two of them, in deck chairs sunbathing in tiny bikinis, both
were stunning…

I Introduced myself, awareness of their semi-nakedness, breasts pushing
the thin fabric of their swimsuits, made it hard for me to concentrate
on the business.

“I’m Julie.” said the dark one, with a sexy pout and slight lisp in her voice.
“And I’m Vivian..” This was the blonde one, the one with the loose
bikini panties, there was a wisp of blonde bush showing.
I couldn’t help myself and cracked a solid hard-on, their eyes travelled
down to my crotch, they smiled seductively. (more…)

The Art of the Kiss

Monday, April 20th, 2009

His lips breathe softly over hers; the merest hint of a touch. They do not linger,
but pull back, so his eyes could gaze into her faraway eyes. She smiled slowly,
leaning into him. Their lips connected, embraced, teasing—nuzzling lightly. His
tongue flicked out to trace the sensuous outline of her lip. Her own tongue flicked
out to meet his own, tempting him further. He pulled back his tongue, closing his lips.
He taunted her unmercifully, making her moan slightly. She leaned further into him,
greedy for his kiss. Languorously, he nuzzled, softly brushing his lips. Her mouth
opened in reflex, silently begging for a more intimate attention. With a low moan, his
tongue entered her softly. He flicked at her own tongue, before exploring her upper palate,
her teeth, her cheek. Slowly he made his way around, languidly. Her arms wrapped
around his neck, as her chest pressed into his. She did her best to entice him,
to draw him further, but he held back. She whimpered in need, and he smiled into her
lips. His actions became more energetic. Teeth nipped at her lips, before suckling
on her tongue, pulling it into his mouth. She returned the heightened ardor, nipping
on his own lip, sucking it into her mouth before releasing it. As he did, his hands
roamed lightly over her back, caressing her before pulling her even closer to him. She
leaned into him eagerly, their tongues rolling over the other’s like acrobats at play.
They exchanged breath. Fingers tightened on each other’s bodies. They pulled apart
slowly, smiling.

copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2002

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Pregnant An Erotic Story part2

Tuesday, March 31st, 2009

Daryll seemed awfully impressed, spreading my legs to check
this out first hand. Forcing his face between my thighs, he
began licking at my pussy, doing his puppy dog routine. Long
licks, loud licks, the kind that made me squirm. His stubbly
cheeks scraped the insides of my thighs, driving me even crazier.
“Oh, Daryll!”
He pulled my legs over his shoulder, driving his tongue up
in my pussy as far as he could. The orgasm this time was
stronger, longer lasting. I had to hold my stomach while I rode
out each wave, the baby not liking to be disturbed by Mommy like
this.
“Aren’t you ready yet?” I asked, moving my legs off his
shoulder so he could stand. I left my legs spread wide; if I was
going to be wanton, I may as well do a good job of it. “I need
you to fuck me.”
“Yes Ma’am.” He dropped his pants, his erection sticking
straight out. While I ordinarily didn’t get excited by the sight
of a man’s penis, I did love to see Daryll’s erection, knowing
that I was the cause of it. “Maybe you should lie on the coffee
table,” he said, eying my big belly. “I think that will work
better.”
I blushed, but I was used to having to make concessions to
my stomach. Of course, laying down made the baby more active,
but I didn’t care. Right now I needed to feel Daryll’s hard
shaft inside me, and would do what I needed to do to get it. He
helped me lie back on the table, kneeling at the end of the table
between my legs. Planting a big kiss on my belly, he slid inside
me.

2

I can never describe the delight I feel when my man enters
me. The need, the itch, if you will, deep inside, is finally
scratched, stroked, but as satisfying as it is, it makes you burn
for more. Each stroke made me crazier; squirming with delight.
Anywhere he touched, my skin burned; the pleasure and desire
spiraling back to where our bodies joined. And when the climax
comes, the satisfaction of having his hardness inside kills the
itch, quenches the need. I feel my body clenching him, pulling
him deep, milking his cock to complete the whole process.
Groaning, calling my name, he collapsed on me, resting his
head on my belly. As though on cue, the baby pushed at his head,
my stomach suddenly distorting before my eyes. “You are some
kind of woman,” he whispered, ignoring the baby.
I smiled; my body finally relaxing. Twisting my hands into
his hair, we lay together; enjoying the way our bodies felt
against one another, the delight of flesh against flesh. The
baby even seemed to quiet down; accepting finally that Mommy had
a life, too. My back even felt good, laying against the hard
table. Closing my eyes; I drifted off to sleep, feeling content.

3

BOUNDFN2COM Comments on “Bound for Fun I II part5

Thursday, February 26th, 2009

made it into a quite nice place to live, with an old converted cistern as
a “dungeon” play-room. The ambience is unbelievable. Joe’s clients are
willing to pay his now much higher prices, for the thrill. Joe can charge
more now, because he doesn’t have to do it, to make a living. His mail-order,
and personal sales of his line of “Dungeon-Ware” is quite good, and growing.

IN>Do they win the lottery and keep having kids?

The only “lottery” Joe is interested in, is the “baby-sweepstakes” that
Lynn has once a year, when they reenact her “lesson” in rape. Other than
that, Joe doesn’t gamble, and neither do the other two.

IN>(Actually, I would not worry about the lottery if I were Joe. He has
IN>already won big.)

Amen.
_____
/ ‘ /
,-/-, __ __. ____ /_
(_/ / (_(_/|_/ / <_/ <_

BTW, I'm going to try to save all of these comments, and put them in the
package when I send it to you. I'll remove all references to your name,
and to you, when I do. You can then edit it again, and put it out to the
net, as a comment on the story-line. I'm not sure if it should go to
a.s.s, or a.s.s.d. Probably to a.s.s, as it does kind of complete the story.

IN>Frank,

IN>Well, the wait may not have been worth it, I’ll leave that up to
IN>you to decide, but here are my editorial comments on your wonderful
IN>”Bound for Fun” stories.

(Sound of a man releasing breath he’s held for days.) ;-}

IN>First , “BfF I”

IN>> MY GOD! For the first time, I realized just how far I had gone.
IN>> Not only had I came in the little girl, possibly (Probably)
IN>come in the little girl…
IN>…

No, came is right. Past tense of “cum” or come. As in “I came, I saw,
I knocked the girl up.” to misquote.

IN>> using the diaphragm to protect her daughter from pregnancy this
IN>> time. Oh well! At least ONCE, I had done it. Actually squirted
IN>> my seed in the little girl’s unprotected belly, that it. I
IN>that is
IN>…

I already found and corrected that one.

IN>> and Mr. Jones attend to things, OK?”
IN>> “Okay Momma. If you say so.” Dutifully, lay back on the
IN>Dutifully, she…
IN>> bed, and let me open her up, to her mother’s administrations.
IN>Did you mean ministrations?
IN>…

OOOPS! You’re right.

IN>> stimulation, of having her mother poking around in her, and me
IN>> from the thought of this incredible sexy, kinky woman actually
IN>> squirting my sperm in her own daughter womb, while making the kid
IN>daughter’s womb…

OOPS again.

IN>And then, “BfF II”

IN>> huh? Frank looked almost like a nerd, but even though some would
IN>> consider him “over the hill” he still had the best imagination of
IN>> the lot of us, when it came to ingenious torture. Especially the
IN>> kind that hurt, but didn’t damage. Fred was a guy you’d expect
IN>Is this a Hitchcock-like cameo, Mr. McCoy?
IN>…

Weeeelll. . . somewhat. Not exactly, but somewhat. The description is
close, but not completely true. Especially, I DO NOT go for torture.
even bondage, is not really my bag.

IN>> something. It wasn’t real, until that final blow. Now seeing
IN>> the knife sticking in her belly, while she reeled from the deadly
IN>> blow, it finally got home to her. This wasn’t a game, and it was
IN>How do you reel from a blow when you are tied down?
IN>…

You’re right. It was her mind that reeled, not her body.

IN>> couldn’t. Any force over about two ounces, caused the blade to
IN>> vanish into the sheath. It was an amazingly effective illusion,
IN>> especially when combined with fake blood canisters, but not worth
IN>Doesn’t the blade vanish into the handle?

Right again!. My mind slipped.

IN>I hope these comments are of some value to you,
IN>and of course, they are all from a friendly source, and not meant to be
IN>barbed, even if they seem that way when viewed on a CRT.

BARBED???!!! Heck, those are FRIENDLY comments. I even welcome barbed ones,
if they show mistakes in what I was trying to get across.

IN>I hope to hear from you soon!

I’ll try to edit in these changes, and the others we discussed sometime this
week, and send you the final disk. I’ll also send along another story that’s
been sitting for almost a year, waiting to be completed, but neither Tammy or
I seem to want to finish it, so we wrapped it up, and left it where it ended.
It ends fairly nicely, but it was originally planned to be twice as long. If
we ever do finish it, it’ll have to be “Chapter 2″.

IN>I have seen all of the material I posted (finally)

I saw your second post, just the other day.

IN>and have sent out some stuff to folks who missed part 1 of 4, etc.

Thanks.

IN>I will be posting more from your first disk soon.

Could you send me another copy of the list of files I sent you?
I forgot which, and I don’t want to duplicate.
_____
/ ‘ /
,-/-, __ __. ____ /_
(_/ / (_(_/|_/ / <_/ <_

Homecoming part2

Monday, February 2nd, 2009

Just touch me.” She murmured low, cautious of waking her son. He
wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, then lifted
her up in his arms. Swiftly he carried her to the bedroom, and
laid her out on their bed.

“You have no idea how many times I pictured you like this.” He
said.

He leaned over her, kissing her passionately again, her arms
wrapping themselves around his neck then down the tight muscles
of his back.

It was then she felt it, the hard ridge of a scar over his left
shoulder blade. She broke off the kiss suddenly and asked him
quietly. “Is this why you’re home?” in a small, scared voice.
She watched him nod in the half light. She clung to him harder,
realizing how close she was to losing him.

“I promised I’d come home.” He whispered. His eyes looked
suspiciously bright, but it was only a moment before his head
dipped to her breast again, nuzzling their warm curves before
taking it into his mouth. His fingers danced across her skin,
remembering each curve, each dimple. His tongue followed suit
and her hands reached for his shorn scalp. She wiggled beneath
him, until he found her core. She whimpered. It felt so good,
but it had been so long. She pulled on his shoulders, pulling
him up against her length.

“Please just make love to me. I’ve missed you so much…” She
breathed.

He pressed gently but insistently at her center, his arms
supporting his weight over her. He slid smoothly into her.
Slowly he built her up, then stop when he felt her getting to
close. She pulled the pillow over her face, alternating muffled
screams with deep moans. Finally in frustration with his
teasing, she pressed him back, riding him hard, fast until she
screamed unmuffled in climax then fell forward onto his chest.
Sean pulled her into his arms, and pulled the comforter over
them.

“Mommy, are you okay?” Michael came in dragging his blanket. “I
thought I heard you yell.” His eyes opened wide when he saw his
father in bed. He dropped his blanket and launched himself at
Sean.

“DADDY!! I knew you’d be here! I knew you’d be here!” Sean
hugged the little boy close to his chest.

“And how did you know that, Kiddo?”

“Well, you promised that you’d get me a gift from over there.
And well, Santa isn’t here yet, and we haven’t fed the
reindeer…”

“Well, then, I guess we better hurry and put out those oats! We
don’t want Santa to forget whose house this is!” He smiled at
her over his head. “Let me get some clothes on, Mikey, and go
get your coat on.” Michael scampered out of the room.

“I’ll just be a few minutes.” He leaned over and kissed her,
then pulled on his pants and grabbed a coat from the closet. In
the light, she could see the large scar, and she shivered in
fear. How he survived from such a large hit was beyond her, but
she thanked God that he was back with her. Cursed the Army for
not letting her know he was wounded, but knowing Sean, he’d
asked them not to tell her, to spare her worry.

After they came back up, and a potty break, Sean tucked Michael
into bed, reminding him that Santa couldn’t come if he wasn’t
asleep.

“I love you daddy.” He murmured quietly.

“I love you too.” He whispered over him and he kissed Michael’s
cheek.

Once he was out, Sean went into their bedroom, and pulled the
Christmas presents out of the closet.
…End of the part2. To be continued..

Dating Diary 1988 part2

Saturday, January 17th, 2009

wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. It hurt a little (liar,
it hurt a lot) but I wouldn’t let him know. I laughed it off and
said “did I look like I was ready for marriage?” oh, yes, back
to the field; we made it back through the woods when I asked him
why he turned me down. He told me he wanted to but he respected
me too much. (I definitely made it hard for him when I dared
him!)
When we got back I asked him if we could go to this
grandparents, but he said now.
This really hurt me too, but again, I didn’t say anything. So we
were up in his room looking over car magazines. I asked him what
homework he had. He checked and said he didn’t have any so I
stayed an extra hour. I ate dinner there. Before Christ warned
me they said grace which was good (that he told me I mean)
After dinner, we were up in his room, I was lying on his bed and
we were kissing for about ¾ of an hour. I sure hope he didn’t
catch my cold.
That was all except that he liked the bracelet I made him.
p.s. I won’t promise to write in this every day because I’m not
in the habit of making promises I can’t keep.
Dear Diary, 10/21/88
Boy did today suck! I forgot to read Tale of Two Cities so I
failed the quiz (I think) then I retook the french test—bomb!
Algebra test I know I got a 0 out of 30. To top that off, Mom
told me when I got home that Linc and Arlene know about Chris
and me! Chris’s going to have a shit fit. Then she told me that
Linc was going to get on my case for forgetting to turn the
mists back on! Today is my DAY! I’ll finish later after Chris
calls. But first I want to copy this poem I found on a postcard
in Sackett’s:
Only as high
As I reach can I grow
Only as far
As I seek can I go
Only as deep as I look can I see
Only as much
As I dream can I be- Karen Ravin

Later-
Damn! Today is rally my day. I think Chris caught my cold, but
either way he is sick, so I can’t talk to him. I hope he’ll be
okay cuz I know I hate being sick. Sunday is supposed to be
rainy so we probably can’t go to the cliffs even if he was okay.
If he goes to work tomorrow I’ll ask. The only bad thing is
that I can’t warn him that Linc knows. Life is a Bitch! If he
calls back I’ll write more, if not, well bye

Chris didn’t call, but I remembered something I wanted to write,
Mom told me something about Arlene. Arlene was married to John
it seems and they had gotten divorced. After a period of time,
john came back and Arlene took him. They’ve been living together
since (3 years) every year he leaves her though. Sounds like a
soap opera, huh? Well. Later.
Dear Diary, 10/22/88
Life sucks!
Chris didn’t come to work today. Lianne told me this poem that I
like
I may not always tell you
Exactly how I feel; but the love I have for you
Will always be real.
You mean so much to me-
More than you will know;
And I will always love you
Wherever you may go
So when your days are really rough
And you don’t know what to do
Remember these words I am saying now
I will always care for you.
I’m upset (right) I’m miserable and I’m depressed . Help! I miss
Chris, I’m sorry he’s sick, I’m bored (naw, me, bored? must have
me mixed up with someone else.) I’m miserable because I know
Chris doesn’t care for me the way I care for him, and I’m afraid
he’ll get tired of me and break up with me. I’m afraid I’ll fail
my classes, that I’ll fail at everything (including life)
It hurts me that mike doesn’t care as much as I do, I mean it
hurts a lot.
You know what diary? My life sucks.
I nearly lost my job today. Chris was sick, I’m not doing
anything this weekend. This morning I weighed myself…89 pounds!
I lost 5 lbs, gross! I weighed myself again around 4…92! I’ve
…End of the part2. To be continued..

The Art of the Kiss

Sunday, November 9th, 2008

His lips breathe softly over hers; the merest hint of a touch. They do not linger,
but pull back, so his eyes could gaze into her faraway eyes. She smiled slowly,
leaning into him. Their lips connected, embraced, teasing—nuzzling lightly. His
tongue flicked out to trace the sensuous outline of her lip. Her own tongue flicked
out to meet his own, tempting him further. He pulled back his tongue, closing his lips.
He taunted her unmercifully, making her moan slightly. She leaned further into him,
greedy for his kiss. Languorously, he nuzzled, softly brushing his lips. Her mouth
opened in reflex, silently begging for a more intimate attention. With a low moan, his
tongue entered her softly. He flicked at her own tongue, before exploring her upper palate,
her teeth, her cheek. Slowly he made his way around, languidly. Her arms wrapped
around his neck, as her chest pressed into his. She did her best to entice him,
to draw him further, but he held back. She whimpered in need, and he smiled into her
lips. His actions became more energetic. Teeth nipped at her lips, before suckling
on her tongue, pulling it into his mouth. She returned the heightened ardor, nipping
on his own lip, sucking it into her mouth before releasing it. As he did, his hands
roamed lightly over her back, caressing her before pulling her even closer to him. She
leaned into him eagerly, their tongues rolling over the other’s like acrobats at play.
They exchanged breath. Fingers tightened on each other’s bodies. They pulled apart
slowly, smiling.

copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2002

BOUNDFN2COM Comments on Bound for Fun I II part3

Friday, October 31st, 2008

IN> slipped past your spell checker.

I’ll be waiting with “baited breath”, like the cat who ate cheese, and sat by
the mousehole.
_____
/ ‘ /
,-/-, __ __. ____ /_
(_/ / (_(_/|_/ / <_ / <_

P.S. Do you mind if I save this letter, except for your name, and use it
and my response to answer any future flames/criticism? It helps not
to have to do it twice.
P.P.S. I got the scanner, and recovered part-2. Story follows this post.
PLEASE don't get squicked, until you've finished the whole story.
THEN feel free to let me have it with both barrels. ;-}

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

IN> Frank,

IN>1. Using my last letter to respond to other critics, some
IN>probably not as friendly. I re-read the letter, and it is fine, except
IN>for my personal identity, which you should please safeguard totally, and
IN>the first paragraph. The first paragraph is not only irrelevant to the
IN>story, but also is pretty identifiable as written by me. To those who
IN>know me, that may be true of the whole thing, but they would not be able
IN>to prove anything, so go ahead.

I’ll remove the first paragraph, and anything else that points to you.

IN>2. Have not yet had time to go over “BfF I” in the detail I
IN>promised, to send you the minor typos, etc. Hope to do so today,
IN>if not, tomorrow.

I’ll wait on both stories for your criticism.

IN>3. “Bound for Fun II” – the blistering literary criticism! ;=}

IN>Anyway, I liked “BfF II” It certainly
IN>did not squick me. It dealt well with the trust issues, and the whole
IN>fascination with violence and torture as “fun” when in the real world
IN> 1) they actually go on, and
IN> 2) they are __NO fun.

Amen.

IN>Now, the literary hard part for me, is that I must tell you that you
IN>did not pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. This reader, at least.
IN>Jones is clearly too careful of Lynn’s feelings, her peripheral
IN>circulation, etc. etc. for him to actually be planning to kill her
IN>This plot reminds me of the movie “The Sting” I thought that
IN>was a fantastic movie, because it was all about a sting operation, and
IN>audience member thinks he is in on it, but in the end, gets totally
IN>taken in himself, and actually gasps when it appears that one of the good
IN>guys kills the other. Again, at least this viewer.

IN>I do not read a lot of the NC stories, except the Parker works,
IN>and so I am not too good at telling you what a NC perpetrator must “think
IN>like” in a story, but one thing is that he must be totally
IN>uncaring about the victim, except regarding leaving clues.
IN>Clues don’t really have to do with
IN>the victim, just protecting himself, but at least that as close as he gets
IN>to giving a damn about the victim. Jones is way too careful.
IN>He is also clearly too nice a guy. I really don’t know
IN>how to remedy this from the dramatic
IN>viewpoint in the story. That he is careful is okay,
IN> but that he is careful of the girl’s
IN>feelings and comfort is not. I don’t know how to get across his care,
IN>and maybe carefully and intentionally mislead the innocent reader, with
IN>statements
IN>that when read quickly look like the self-centered detail worries of a
IN>schmuck trying to cover the clues, but on rereading after the surprise
IN>ending actually may be interpreted to see that he was looking out for
IN>her all along. A difficult task,
IN>but the only way I can see to get the desired effect and leave it in 1st
IN>person.

The idea was never to pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. The Idea was
to see if you could convince the reader that “Joe” was good enough and
convincing enough to pull the wool over Lynn’s eyes. Since you don’t point
…End of the part3. To be continued..

BOUNDFN2COM Comments on “Bound for Fun I II part3

Monday, October 13th, 2008

IN> slipped past your spell checker.

I’ll be waiting with “baited breath”, like the cat who ate cheese, and sat by
the mousehole.
_____
/ ‘ /
,-/-, __ __. ____ /_
(_/ / (_(_/|_/ / <_/ <_

P.S. Do you mind if I save this letter, except for your name, and use it
and my response to answer any future flames/criticism? It helps not
to have to do it twice.
P.P.S. I got the scanner, and recovered part-2. Story follows this post.
PLEASE don't get squicked, until you've finished the whole story.
THEN feel free to let me have it with both barrels. ;-}

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

IN> Frank,

IN>1. Using my last letter to respond to other critics, some
IN>probably not as friendly. I re-read the letter, and it is fine, except
IN>for my personal identity, which you should please safeguard totally, and
IN>the first paragraph. The first paragraph is not only irrelevant to the
IN>story, but also is pretty identifiable as written by me. To those who
IN>know me, that may be true of the whole thing, but they would not be able
IN>to prove anything, so go ahead.

I’ll remove the first paragraph, and anything else that points to you.

IN>2. Have not yet had time to go over “BfF I” in the detail I
IN>promised, to send you the minor typos, etc. Hope to do so today,
IN>if not, tomorrow.

I’ll wait on both stories for your criticism.

IN>3. “Bound for Fun II” – the blistering literary criticism! ;=}

IN>Anyway, I liked “BfF II” It certainly
IN>did not squick me. It dealt well with the trust issues, and the whole
IN>fascination with violence and torture as “fun” when in the real world
IN> 1) they actually go on, and
IN> 2) they are __NO fun.

Amen.

IN>Now, the literary hard part for me, is that I must tell you that you
IN>did not pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. This reader, at least.
IN>Jones is clearly too careful of Lynn’s feelings, her peripheral
IN>circulation, etc. etc. for him to actually be planning to kill her
IN>This plot reminds me of the movie “The Sting” I thought that
IN>was a fantastic movie, because it was all about a sting operation, and
IN>audience member thinks he is in on it, but in the end, gets totally
IN>taken in himself, and actually gasps when it appears that one of the good
IN>guys kills the other. Again, at least this viewer.

IN>I do not read a lot of the NC stories, except the Parker works,
IN>and so I am not too good at telling you what a NC perpetrator must “think
IN>like” in a story, but one thing is that he must be totally
IN>uncaring about the victim, except regarding leaving clues.
IN>Clues don’t really have to do with
IN>the victim, just protecting himself, but at least that as close as he gets
IN>to giving a damn about the victim. Jones is way too careful.
IN>He is also clearly too nice a guy. I really don’t know
IN>how to remedy this from the dramatic
IN>viewpoint in the story. That he is careful is okay,
IN> but that he is careful of the girl’s
IN>feelings and comfort is not. I don’t know how to get across his care,
IN>and maybe carefully and intentionally mislead the innocent reader, with
IN>statements
IN>that when read quickly look like the self-centered detail worries of a
IN>schmuck trying to cover the clues, but on rereading after the surprise
IN>ending actually may be interpreted to see that he was looking out for
IN>her all along. A difficult task,
IN>but the only way I can see to get the desired effect and leave it in 1st
IN>person.

The idea was never to pull the wool over the reader’s eyes. The Idea was
to see if you could convince the reader that “Joe” was good enough and
convincing enough to pull the wool over Lynn’s eyes. Since you don’t point
…End of the part3. To be continued..

Something About Melinda By DrDan

Wednesday, October 8th, 2008

Copyright 1999 by DrDan

It was only an email message from my girlfriend. I mean, how ominous could something so seemingly innocuous possibly be? Melinda wanted me to meet her at 9:00 P.M. at her home. She hadn’t discussed the possibility of anything resembling a date for the occasion, so there were no definitive plans to go anywhere or to engage in any specific activities except for my visiting her at the house. Simple enough, one would think we would simply pleasure ourselves with one another’s company once we got together. Since I had never actually been inside her home before, I was certain that there would be plenty for us to see and do.

Upon reading the message a second time, however, I felt the familiar sensation of beetles dancing in my stomach and goosebumps raising on my skin. The single paragraph email was more of an order than an invitation. There were no directions to call her to confirm things and it hadn’t seemed as though she’d considered the possibility that something urgent would arise at the last moment. The unspoken instruction was to drop everything and attend, an instruction she knew I was certain to follow.

With each successive encounter, Melinda seemed to be consolidating the rather dominant role she had defined for herself in our relationship. She was the one who initially pursued me at a party thrown by a mutual acquaintance, cornering and engaging me in a conversation about blues artists. It was a subject she somehow knew would pique my interest and about which she proved to be unusually knowledgeable, a trait that impressed me greatly.

When the conversation drifted to topics of a more personal nature, Melinda bemoaned the fact that her 5’11″ frame and assertive nature intimidated many of the men she dated. She was indeed a rare beauty, tall and statuesque, of Asian ancestry and wearing a clingy jade green silk dress, a garment that accentuated her shapely body exceptionally well. I took the opportunity to reveal my interest in her.

“Well,” I stuttered, “perhaps then you need to find someone older than yourself who’s maybe a bit more mature.” I smiled broadly, pausing for just a second, “maybe someone like me.” Melinda looked into my eyes, her curiosity piqued.

“And what makes you think that you’re older than I am?” She giggled just slightly, but knowingly, as though she were guarding a secret.

“Umm… it’s obvious.” I smiled and shifted uncomfortably, not wishing to reveal too much. “You’re still a young woman, I’m approaching middle age.” Melinda smiled and pecked me tenderly on the lips.

“Awww, that’s sweet,” she cooed softly, “but please remember that things are not always as they seem, and that it’s not too difficult sometimes to get yourself into more trouble than you had bargained for.”

“Trouble?” I chuckled, sensing a cryptic come on. “I’d risk all the trouble in the world for someone like you.” I watched her eyes widen as she licked her lips and looked me up and down, in much the same manner that a butcher would inspect a side of beef.

“Yes,” she repeated, “trouble. You look like a man well worth having, but I need for you to understand what you’re getting yourself into” I shot a quick glance between Melinda’s legs as she uttered the words “getting yourself into.”

“I would take that chance for the opportunity to be with someone like you,” I smiled, eyeing her in the same manner she had me.

Melinda didn’t utter a word, rather she smiled and took me by the hand, leading me to an adjacent bedroom. The ensuing sexual encounter, while indescribably erotic in the conventional sense, was also one of the more esoteric trysts I had ever experienced. Melinda repeatedly licked my head and neck, and seemed to have an unusual interest in a tiny spot on my face where I’d recently cut myself shaving. She sucked on the small wound, successfully drawing a drop of blood, smiling as she swirled it sensually on her tongue. Melinda sucked harder and carefully drew a tiny stream of blood. She raked it across her teeth, smiling, then cupped my face in her hands. She pulled us nose to nose and swallowed slowly, her mouth puffing up into a contented grin as I lost myself in her earthy gaze. A powerful chill simultaneously danced up my spine, short circuiting my nervous system and briefly buckling my knees. I knew in the depths of my being that it was coming through her eyes.

Those eyes, gazing deeply into mine, piercing my psyche and laying a claim on my soul.

“On you knees, lover,” she whispered, pushing on my shoulders until I crumpled deliriously to the floor. Melinda guided my head under her dress, between her legs, shrinking the size of my world, encapsulating me in a velvety darkness strongly punctuated by the aroma of her most intimate scent. I allowed my mouth to hang open, my tongue protruding ever so slightly.. until a strong hand clutched the back of my neck and pushed me into her sex.

I greeted the swelled, moist familiar shape of engorged labia lips with abandon; suckling, licking, kissing and slurping. I greedily swallowed her wetness like a dehydrated man inhaling the last few drops from a spent canteen. I was overcome with arousal, then dizziness, then an odd detachment as the secretions stung my eyes and dribbled down my throat. Melinda clamped her thighs around my face and spent herself on me, her moans muffled as I instinctively parted my jaws to catch and consume her gushing juices.

Melinda lifted her dress, split her legs and I dropped. I fought an odd altered state of semi-paralysis as I fell to the floor, watching helplessly as she methodically undressed us and mounted my stiff cock, fucking me hard and deep, pinning my wrists and raking her teeth across the soft skin on my neck. When she drew blood she sucked and lapped it luxuriantly as though she were a debutante at a wine tasting. Melinda rode herself to a long, throaty orgasm before dismounting and taking my cock into her hand. With a few short jerks I spasmed in climax,sending a rope of hot cum spewing across my stomach and chest. She smeared my spunk evenly across my body before piercing her own finger with a needle, carefully measuring out a few drops of her own blood and commingling it with my semen, forming a paste of sorts. I watched helplessly.. my limbs still feeling like lead.. as she dolloped the mixture lightly onto strategic areas on my body, my forehead, my neck, behind my kneecaps, and on my scrotal sac. Then she rose and stood over me.. licking her lips.. a predatory smile crossing her face.

“There is no turning back now, my love,” I breathed deeply, feeling the paralysis abate a little. I looked into her eyes as she licked her lips. “You are to be mine.” Melinda helped me to my feet, rubbing the mixture of drying bodily fluids deeper into my skin.

“I don’t want you to shower today, darling.” she cooed, “I want you to think about me all night and through tomorrow. I want our scents to linger and I want every thought that enters your mind to be prefaced with a thought about me. Now get dressed and go home.” She turned and walked away, blowing a brief kiss as my strength returned. I staggered away, staying at the party only long enough to regain my composure before slipping away.
***********************************************************************

I had no trouble finding the house. It was a modest, modern split level bungalow overlooking the ocean with an oversized front yard and a chained Rottweiler dog barking in the front yard. Although it was difficult to make out specific details in the darkness, it was obvious that the structure was tidy and well kept up.

I had an ominous feeling as I approached the house, having dated Melinda for some months now and nurturing a premonition of dread I was afraid awaited me on this particular day. We had replayed the sexual tryst that took place on our first meeting several times by now, at some times more intensely than at others. It always involved her consumption of a small quantity of my blood and my wearing a small quantity of hers. I couldn’t help but feel a psychic exchange, a compromise of my free will, a progressive invasion of my soul strengthened with each encounter. Melinda was on my mind more and more frequently, and it became increasingly difficult for me to concentrate on my job or many of the more mundane matters of my day to day life. I found myself masturbating perpetually, neglecting my own affairs for the sake of fondling thoughts about my sweet siren.

The dog growled ominously at me as I teetered up the walkway. I jumped as he lunged for my leg, barely escaping the animal’s clenching jaws as I retreated, hearing a sharp rebuke break the darkness.

“Bruce!” It was Melinda. “That will be enough of that.” Melinda looked into my eyes as she swatted the retreating dog and smiled at me deeply, greeting me with a warm embrace.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, the puppy will not harm you,” Melinda licked her lips, “only I will harm you.”

She was casually dressed, wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and her trademark python boots. I smiled nervously and offered her my arm, which she took as she led me into the modestly furnished home. We seated ourselves on the sofa, at which time she kissed my forehead tenderly and caressed my hair.

“How are you feeling, darling?” Her concern seemed genuine enough.

“Well, I-” Melinda smiled.

“Nervous, scared, a little afraid of me, aren’t you?” I nodded tentatively, pierced again by those globular brown eyes, softening and comforting me now as she stroked my hair again and cradled me in her arms.

“I know, darling.. I know. It’s normal to feel that way right about now. My other pets all had the same experience, so be still. Don’t make things worse by resisting me. I am here to guide you through this unsettling time. After tonight, things will become much clearer for you.” Melinda leaned over to kiss me, pushing her tongue deep inside my mouth, enveloping me in the familiar canopy of control that had come to characterize our relationship.

She kissed passionately for a moment, then broke it off, abruptly directing my attention to an old high school science textbook she had placed on the coffee table. I thought it odd to punctuate an erotic moment by consulting a drab reference, but I said nothing. She leisurely picked the book up and began leafing through the pages. Melinda found the appropriate place and grinned. The article looked to be one about a specific insect.

“You know what? This has got to be my favorite bug,” Melinda spoke casually and pointed out a picture of an odd looking little creature. I looked, mildly curious, wondering where she was going with this train of thought. “..Abrostocetus Hagenowii.. it’s a tiny little wasp that lives in the western United States. It’s a little carnivore which feeds primarily on carrion, but when it comes time for the wasp to reproduce, it does a very curious thing.” Melinda looked into my eyes, licking her lips, then continued.

“It goes out and searches for an insect to host its eggs. Typically this is a beetle or some similar creature.. generally much larger than the wasp itself. It stings the beetle with a poison that disorients it without killing it. The wasp waits patiently for the poison to take effect, to make his prey nice and docile.” Melinda took time out from her narrative to stroke my hair, placing special emphasis on the word “docile.”

“The wasp then measures and chops off a portion of the beetle’s antennae, effectively rendering it senseless. It then herds the confused prey into its lair, where it lays an egg on it and gives the beetle one more sting to put it to sleep without killing it. When the egg hatches, well…” Melinda smiled and closed the book “..let’s just say that breakfast is served.” I looked at Melinda’s soft smile and squirmed uncomfortably, dreading that she was preparing to draw an analogy of some sort between the carnivorous insect and the two of us. I didn’t have to wait long.

“Relationships are funny, daniel. Really they are. There’s always a good deal of talk about equality and the equitable distribution of power. But in the real world, partners are seldom equals. Typically one partner very clearly takes charge.” Melinda looked right at me. “In this particular case, I think the partner who has taken charge of things has been me, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’ve taken charge sexually, I will admit to that, but I don’t necessarily think that means that-” Melinda laughed throatily.

“Oh, but it does. And I plan to prove it to you.” She licked the tip of her finger, trailing it along my nose and lips slowly, resting it on a tuft of chest hair. “daniel, would you like to share with me what has happened to you since we met? Do you find yourself thinking about me a lot?”

“Uhmm.. I think about you, yeah.. but I think that’s normal in a er-uhmmm.. man woman relationship.” Melinda just laughed and licked her finger again, unbuttoning the top button on my shirt.

“I think you’re not telling the whole truth, daniel. I believe that you think of me all the time. I believe that your first thought in the morning is of me and the last thought at night before you turn in is of me also.” I gulped and sighed heavily as she locked her eyes onto mine. Melinda smiled and tugged my chest hair. Her voice lowered as she moved close to me and almost whispered in my ear. “I’ve bitten you, daniel. Just like the wasp, I have confused you and paralyzed you. I have disoriented you, rendering you nearly unable to function. The first part of my plan has gone well, very well indeed.” I looked at her for a minute, horrified, then began to stand up.

“I think-I think I need to leave…” I stood up, but found myself dizzy, dazed, barely able to move. It was impossible to find the door. Melinda came over and grabbed my wrists, forcing them over my head and looking into my eyes. She spoke softly, unsmiling.

“Sit down, daniel..” Her grip was strong, my soul riveted. The senses that had betrayed me returned once I was in her grasp. The only option was obedience. I sat down and Melinda smiled.

“That’s very good, my love. Now let me explain a little bit about what is going to happen next. Please keep in mind that what I am about to impart to you constitutes ancient knowledge, very powerful and profound. If you weren’t already mine, I wouldn’t share any of this with you. However the process has already progressed beyond your mortal ability to stop it.” She smirked and sat next to me, stroking my hair and wiping the perspiration from my brow. She took a deep breath and looked as though she was preparing to deliver a familiar speech. Melinda licked her lips and cleared her throat.

“Many centuries ago, a group of women who lived in the South American Andes discovered something very special about the psychic connection between the exchange of bodily fluids between people and the ensuing bond that may be formed from that exchange. In many cases, the bond is egalitarian, and people develop a relationship akin to one that close siblings would have.” Melinda paused and smiled, gently stroking my neck near the carotid artery. “The ancient women, however, discovered that such an exchange coupled with very specific sexual acts allowed them to gain control of their partners to an almost frightening degree. They further noticed that each psychic and sexual conquest allowed them to restore their youthful beauty and vigor, and eventually that it allowed them to extend their lifespans for an extraordinary period of time.” Melinda licked my neck, lightly scraping her teeth across my artery. I noted an increase in my heart rate, as well as a sense of impending doom. “The lifespans of the men, by contrast, tended also to lengthen by such exchanges. But they benefited in other ways as well, because the essence of the woman lived in them, providing a calming influence and checking their beastly nature for as long as they did live. The man also had an unusual opportunity to express his total devotion and undying love for his woman by offering himself to her in this manner.”

“So you mean to tell me that you’re a vam- vampire?” I was aghast, trying to resist her but feeling the psychic leash tightening. Melinda laughed.

“No, silly. Modern vampire stories are based on the reality of what I just explained to you. They are also terribly sexist and inaccurate, since they almost always depict a male vampire and a female supplicant. Typical nineteenth century sexism, in my opinion. The reality is completely different, the roles are utterly reversed.” Melinda smiled. “I haven’t taken your soul yet, but once I do you will feel the length, depth, and breadth of my power over you.” I looked at her in disbelief, a rebellion welling within me.

“This is absurd. For you to lay claim to my “soul” based upon your swallowing a few drops of my blood is…ridiculous!” Melinda’s eyes narrowed as she looked down at me. I felt a familiar twinge in my stomach and those dark brown eyes burrowing through me. I sensed her displeasure but continued with my diatribe.
“..hypnosis, perhaps, or the inducement of a peculiar form of panic. I attribute that to some skillful erotic manipulation on your part. But a “soul” is far to ethereal to quantify, much less possess.” Melinda only grinned and then spoke very, very softly.

“Oh but the soul does exist, daniel. Your soul will, in fact, be taken over by mine before the evening is over.” She ran a finger along my forehead and nose, scratching very lightly, then down my lips to my neck. She pinched a spot on my throat ever so slightly. “Right there is a good place, I think. That’s always a wonderful spot to open a wound. The blood tends to gush, and the supplicant does stop resisting after only a few seconds.” She smiled as I began to back away from her on the sofa. Melinda followed, scooting near. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill or even seriously injure you. But I am going to make you mine. You will know what it is to be overwhelmed by a force which you cannot comprehend.” She smiled wickedly as I shook my head wordlessly, fearfully, trying in vain to keep her at bay.

Melinda reached out and grabbed me suddenly by the ear, pulling my head abruptly towards hers. I resisted, jerking away as she pulled harder and managed to snake her other hand through some of my hair. After roughly yanking my head to one side to expose the arteries bulging beneath my skin, she opened her mouth wide, clamping down hard on me and sealing the grip tightly with her lips. I felt her tongue briefly scan my defenseless neck, searching, probing for exactly the right spot, then shrieked in terror as her incisors punctured me, simultaneously drawing the blood from my body and yet holding me tenderly, beckoning me wordlessly not to fight her. I felt her skillfully take my essence from me, the blood spilling out of me in hot spurts at first until I became dizzy and detached, unable to resist her, perched on the cusp of losing consciousness.

She stopped sucking and just lapped at my wound now, seemingly able to stem the flow of blood from my severed artery magically with a few strokes of her tongue. She licked like a kitten, trailing her tongue leisurely across my neck, savoring the liquid that remained until she had consumed it, then blowing lightly on the bite to seal it shut before looking into my eyes.
I met her gaze weakened and barely to move or breathe, my mouth agape, so submissive and contrite. Her eyes were a conduit for something powerful, and as I lost myself in their depths I felt something enter me, an energy dancing electrically down my spine and then back up again, filling me with vigor yet not filling me too fully. Melinda leaned down and kissed me deeply, forcing her tongue inside me, painting the roof of my mouth with the taste of my own blood. She pulled back, regarding me, licking her lips and smiling broadly.

“Stand up and take off all your clothes.” she said. “Do it slowly. Unwrap yourself like a Christmas gift for me.” I did as she said, slowly rising and removing my clothing methodically as she kicked me a little with her boot.

“Dance, boy. Don’t bore me. You need to keep me happy.” I responded by dancing sinuously, sensually for her, moving licentiously to some imaginary tune I knew she was thinking of, teasing like a strip club performer and slowly disrobing.
I surprised myself and delighted her, my limbs taking a life of their own as my own motor skills were repressed. I took my cues from her gaze, ultimately winding up naked before her and suddenly weak again, collapsing into the couch beside her. She looked at me and smiled, stroking my hair, then forcing my mouth open. She deliberately cut her finger on my tooth and then removed her hand, dotting her blood on my face, neck, and shoulders, marking me, purring lowly. My body responded almost on cue with a deep sexual arousal as
she moved down to grope my genitals, deliciously painting them in blood as she did so. She licked my neck and face again, then paused to look into my eyes.

“We’re almost finished, daniel. Very soon now you will be mine.” Melinda locked her eyes onto mine, pulling me into an inescapable psychic vortex. She continued speaking softly, sensuously, and very slowly. “The bondage I’m creating for you involves an exchange of fluids, daniel. I have extracted and consumed a good deal of blood from your body, but unless you extract and consume a specific bodily fluid of mine, the bond will not seal.” She stroked my hair and tended to the wound on my neck with her finger, continuing. “The final exchange must be consensual. I cannot force you to relinquish your soul, nor would I desire the soul of one who would notwillingly give it to me.” She kissed me tenderly on the cheek and looked into my eye, stroking my hair. “I’ve taken you this far, daniel, will you allow me to guide you the rest of the way into your new life?” I inhaled sharply and trembled, mustering my vanquished will, and glared defiantly, albeit weakly.

“No.” I whispered, almost inaudibly. Melinda looked at me and broke into a giggle.

“No? Are you saying no to me?” I nodded as she continued to chuckle, almost as though she’d expected such a response.

“Please Melinda,” I whispered softly, weakly, nude and rock hard before my fully clothed girlfriend. “please let me go. I don’t want this. Allow me to go home. Give me my life back.” Melinda just smiled and spoke softly.

“Darling, if you want me to release you from your bondage, I will freely do so.” She licked her lips and held me tightly, her hand stroking my rock hard cock. “You should know, however, that your carotid artery is severed. It is only the spell of dominance that I’m weaving which keeps your blood behind its walls. Should I release you now, you will likely bleed to death in less than a minute.” She smiled triumphantly as I whimpered, not certain whether to believe her but knowing that a mistake could be fatal. She continued to speak. “So you see, sweetheart, while you may be free of me if you so desire, this is the last time you will ever say ‘no’ to me regardless of your decision.”

Melinda smiled and abruptly stood up, breaking eye contact, striding purposefully across the room. “Come to me darling. Crawl to me. Give yourself willingly, unconditionally. Surrender to me. I give you a minute to decide before I break the spell. Choose your freedom and die, or be mine and live forever!”

My consciousness churned like a tornado. I looked across the room at Melinda standing, legs spread and arms crossed, licking her lips. She was so sexy, so powerful, and essentially irresistible. I crumpled to the floor and found myself crawling slowly, hand over hand, knee over knee, to where she stood. She looked down at me, expressionless, unimpressed.

“Tell me what you want, daniel. Tell me now, please.”

“I want…” The words came with great difficulty “I want to be yours, Melinda.” She looked down at me, smiling slightly.

“Mmmmm, I must have scared you then, mustn’t I?” She strode in a circle around me as my body began to weaken. I could feel the wound on my neck begin to crack open slightly, with a few drops of blood trickling out and spilling onto the floor. “Why should I have you now? Just a moment ago you wanted me to release you. Is your change of heart truly out of devotion to me, or is it to save your own hide?”

“Please, Melinda! I beg you!” A warm stream trickled down my neck, nestling in my chest hairs and dripping onto the floor. The severed artery was breaking open. “I don’t want to die!”

“Not good enough,” she smirked. “Nobody wants to die. Either convince me now that I should take you or I shall shortly feed your carcass to the dog!” I shook with terror as the wound opened a bit more, the stream of blood gushing a little more freely, my senses reeling, lightheadedness setting in. I looked up at her in reverie, deciding suddenly to bare my soul.

“Oh Melinda, I-I must be dense. I have not been able to grasp what has been happening to me of late.” I barely noticed as the trickle of blood began to slow. “I love you and want to be with you, but I am afraid of you as well. Please don’t misinterpret my trepidation. My first response is a cautious one when it comes to ownership of my soul, but if I were to give it away, it would be to you.” Melinda looked down at me and smiled, mussing my hair ever so slightly.

“That is sweet, daniel. But do you really feel that way? Would you really give it freely if it were not forced upon you?”

“Yes, Mistress.” It was the first time I had called her that. “To you, I would give it freely.” Melinda held me close. The bleeding had stopped.

“Then I release you,” she said. “The spell is broken. You will not die. Should you choose to walk away from this relationship right this minute, the wound will not reopen. You are free.”

“No, Mistress,” I nuzzled next to her legs. “I would rather that you take me if you will have me.” Melinda smiled down on me, then bent over to plant a kiss on the crown of my head.

“Thank you, daniel. That is very sweet. We must complete the exchange in order to seal the bond. Are you ready to do that now?” I nodded, weakening just a little bit once again. She looked down at me. “daniel, I want you to use just your mouth to take down my pants, then I want you to pleasure me orally. When I climax, you will swallow all of it. You may feel a little strange as you do so. Don’t worry about that and don’t try to fight it. Just think of me, think of your life up until now, and consider what your future probably holds for you. Allow it to sweep you away. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I reached for her belt using just my mouth. Melinda flashed an approving smile as I awkwardly tugged it loose. I wrapped my tongue and lips around the clasp holding her jeans up, and managed to unbuckle it. I unzipped the jeans with my lips and teeth, releasing a pungent, dizzying, intimate scent that served to weaken me a bit further as I tugged her panties down. Melinda grabbed me by the hair and began backing up, beckoning me to follow as she sat down on a leather easy chair, flipping her legs over my head, using her pulled down jeans to trap me between them as I found myself staring straight into her sex.

“Kiss me, slave. Worship me with your mouth and give me the gift of yourself.” I nuzzled my way up Melinda’s inner thigh, intoxicated by her feminine scent, and felt a tingle dance up my tongue as I touched her wet clitoris with it and commingled some of her juices with my saliva. I opened my mouth wide, holding my tongue out for her as she pulled me inside. I kissed and licked with abandon, letting go, bathing her pussy with my warm breath and plunging my tongue between her labia folds, curling it, suckling, swallowing her juices as my eyes burned and my face became numb. I felt a detachment, a displacement within my body, an almost incomprehensible sensation of ecstasy coupled with dread. I burrowed my tongue deeper within her, opening my mouth wider to capture her nectar, more ardently stimulated her genitalia with my lips, tongue, and nose, desiring above all else to please her and comply with her wishes. I jettisoned my free will and acquiesced, a decision I was certain she sensed when she pushed me deep within her wet crevice, clamping her thighs tightly shut, reaching down to hold me close and hug me as she climaxed, her juices covering my face and trickling down my throat.

Something intangible entered me, I’m not certain what. It worked its way down my head and shoulders to my torso, then my pelvis, and finally to the tips of my very toes. I felt a oneness with my Mistress, although the merging was not of an egalitarian nature. She enveloped me, took me over, pushed my psyche behind the scenes, and began taking control of my thoughts, feelings, and even my motor skills. I abruptly became rock hard, stiffer than I had ever recalled being, as what blood remained in my body engorged my organ as though on cue. She lifted me up by the hair and captured my gaze, pulling me towards her, thrusting her legs into the air, coaxing my hard cock between her labial folds.
I pushed myself inside her to the hilt, thrusting slowly at first, then faster, harder, and deeper as she writhed beneath me and emitted a low moan. Presently her eyes widened as she gazed at my wounded neck, hungrily lunging for and capturing it between her jaws again, emitting a primal scream as she fed on me and then threw me over onto my back. She rode me, taking me, as physically endowed with strength as I had been weakened, as though there had been a transfer. She bucked and writhed atop me, as I lay supine and unable to move, her mouth still fused to my neck. We climaxed simultaneously as I gave everything to her, moaning, shaking, writhing, and then collapsing powerless, paralyzed, feeling near death.

We lay like that for a while, with Melinda closing the wound on my neck with a few deft flicks of her tongue. She purred and enveloped me with her psyche, my spine tingling again as our eyes met and she seemed to restore my strength with her gaze. Melinda smiled down at me.

“Well, lover,” she asked. “How does it feel to be mine, utterly completely mine?” I looked up at her, awestruck, terrorized, defeated, and remade.

I tried to move my lips in response, but couldn’t. I simply couldn’t. Melinda kissed me tenderly on the forehead, licking her way down my face, sliding her tongue between my lips and probing my mouth delicately, nurturing me. She looked into my eyes, her expression softening into a luscious smile. “It’s okay my sweet,” she said. “No reply is necessary.”

Cross Examined part5

Sunday, October 5th, 2008

implementation of a strict male management policy that will affect each and
every man and boy on the planet. The choice is yours.” She stroked me
lightly again, peering into my eyes, deciphering the meaning of my moans,
taking me to the precise edge of ecstasy itself, and then withdrew.
“Pl-please! I-I” She backed up a distance of about ten feet. I began
swaying my hips as the bailiffs held me, trying to hump the air.
“Fuck yourself, Daniel, if you must.” she said. “The consequences of your
actions are yours alone.” I became aware of my freed hand and began to reach
for my cock, stopping abruptly as I saw her giggle in contempt. My organ
shrank just a millimeter and I felt the tension subside just a bit when an
invading finger belonging to one of the bailiffs found my rectum and forced
it open, sliding up inside, pressing hard on my prostate gland. It was
simply too much. The hot liquid rope shot out on its own, and my reflexes
took over. I grabbed my cock in an attempt at damage control, but it was
too late. Streams of cum gushed forth, the jury gasped, the prosecutor
grinned at the spectacle, the judge banged her gavel, and I suddenly felt a
towel covering my mouth and nostrils. The odor was astringent, and as I
spilled the last of my seed on the courtroom floor I fell into a dark, deep
sleep.

The first thing I noticed upon returning to my senses was the peculiar
sensation of lying supine in a strange location. I was still naked but on a
soft surface, much like a bed. The lighting was a bit dim, the
surroundings seemed feminine, and the linens were perfumed. My wrists were
locked into fur-lined shackles and confined above my head, with both ankles
being fastened to the bedposts at the other end in a similar fashion.
There was a good deal of laughing and revelry coming from an adjacent room,
all of which seemed to be female voices. It sounded like a party. I
strained to hear some of the things being said, but all of the chatter was
interspersed with giggling and wasn’t too lucid. After a short period of
time, a woman poked her head in the door and called out to the partygoers
after noticing my emerging consciousness.
“Gina!” the voice said. “He’s awake!” She abruptly closed the door and
began conversing with someone in the hall. I tried to shake the cobwebs
from my head as I seemed to hear the assemblage of voices move away. When I
had almost drifted to sleep again, the door opened and an attractive woman
came inside.
It was the woman who had prosecuted me in the courtroom. She had changed
from her business suit into blue jeans and a sweatshirt, but my body still
tensed in mortification at her presence. She smiled sweetly as she sat upon
the bed, and roughly grabbed and pulled my face towards her as I began to
glance away.
“You can look at me, Daniel,” she said, smiling infectiously stroking my
hair lightly. “In fact, I want you to look at me!”
“What happened? Where am -” I was still a bit groggy from whatever drug
they had used to sedate me in the courtroom.
“The jury retired after you deprived us of your conscious presence,” Gina
said, matter of factly. “You were subsequently convicted of first degree
rape. It took them about fifteen minutes to decide.”
“Well, why–why am I here? Where’s my own attorney? What-what’s going
on?” I strained against my bonds. “Why am I tied up like this?”
“You’re here because I wanted you here.” Gina licked her lips and trailed
her fingernail sensuouly down my neck. “I defeated you in public before
the world, and now it gives me enormous pleasure to defeat you in private.”
“What are you talking about?” I raised my head as much as the restraints
would allow. Gina smiled.
“Minutes after the unanimous verdict was read, the world’s various
governments ordered the full implementation of a global policy of male
management. That order is being carried out as I speak, with males
worldwide being separated from one another and segregated into small groups
for transport to labor camps at diverse locations.” I groaned and leaned
back as Gina’s light touch danced about my erect nipples.
“In fact, Daniel, you are now something of a pariah amongst the male
population.” She continued to rub me softly, with my own humiliation
heightened by my arousal. “Some of them speak of inflicting bodily injury
on you. Others talk openly of murder. They consider you weak and
worthless, a poor representative of your own gender.” Gina suddenly reached
down and cupped my scrotum, giggling audibly as she stared into my eyes.
“Which, of course, is what you are. That’s why we targeted you for
prosecution and for this demonstration.” Gina brought my thickening organ
to a fully erect state with some skillful stimulation, much as she had in
the courtroom. She continued to speak.
“We will, naturally, fully protect your safety and provide you with a
comfortable existence. You will never have to work in the camps with the
other males. In fact, you won’t be allowed to work at all. Which is why
you’ll probably never again see another male in person for as long as you
live. From time to time, we’ll take pictures of you apparently living a
life of luxury and leak those photographs to the males in the camps.” She
grinned from ear to ear as I squirmed in agony. “Keeping the males angry at
…End of the part5. To be continued..