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Authors: Jurgen von Stuka

Tags: #Erotica

Having It All (14 page)

BOOK: Having It All
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So, that is why she only hissed when Donna opened the door, letting in a cool blast of room air and exposing only a small amount of Purple’s lovely, captive flesh. Donna thought it might be useful to stimulate Purple a bit, since she was so totally inanimate, so he bent over and applied his tongue gently to Purple’s soft left nipple. Almost at once, from the first touch, the pink nipple began to harden and then became rigid as Donna attentively applied more and more moist tongue to the now active apex of her breast.

“Guess you aren’t dead,” Donna said, flicking the right nipple with his glitter painted index finger. This nipple also responded quickly and actively to his attention and he switched back and forth with his mouth and tongue, licking, sucking and nibbling with his teeth until he got the desired response from Purple in the form of increased respiration and a swelling of the breast tissue around the now engorged nipples.

“Very good,” said Donna, admiringly. “Very nice. Glad to see that you’re still with us, Elle.” He used the cheer leader’s real name because he thought being called by the room name was demeaning and Donna had endured enough demeaning communication over the years to respect Elle’s probable need for a more civil form of address. By now the cheerleader was puffing and panting through the brank and gag. Donna took the remote control from his jump suit pocket and adjusted the control valve on the brank gag, opening an additional airway through the gag so that Elle got more air without as much effort. He then activated another control that allowed for small increments of pure oxygen to mix with the incoming air, giving the girl an additional respiratory assist.

“There,” he said after a moment, as he noted the slowing of Elle’s breathing and the easing of her efforts to acquire more air. “We’re here to help, honey. Next time you’re in the mood for more attention, give me a buzz. You and I might really hit it off.”

Chapter Ten

Applicant

As a favor to the girl’s parents, F&E had agreed to meet informally with Lynda, the nineteen-year old college sophomore who was home a few weeks before the start of spring break. The five of them met in a noisy Italian restaurant in midtown early one evening and it was soon evident to all that it was going to be a successful gathering. Lynda had taken the lead in the conversation early, pointing out that both parents were willing to support any decisions she made and that they all agreed that F&E Enterprises was the place to bring their erotic interests.

“I’m sure that you can help me out,” said the pretty young woman with the girl next door looks. She was carefully dressed in a well fitted, black knit jersey dress, moderate heels, dark hose and almost no jewelry. Striking in her apparent innocence, Lynda had poise and grace. Both Frank and Ellen noticed the marks on her wrists and when she had been standing at the bar before dinner, both noted similar bands around her ankles. She wore a wide black velvet band around her neck, possibly to hide similar marks, they wondered?

“Obviously,” said Frank, nodding towards her marked left wrist, “You are not a neophyte to this scene.”

“Oh, no,” said Lynda, blushing ever so slightly. “I have been into self bondage for awhile. But I wanted to expand my horizons beyond that.”

“Exactly what do you have in mind, Lynda,” Ellen asked quietly. They had already covered the scope of F&E’s areas of erotic interests and established that Lynda was old enough to participate if she wanted to. Both parents, who said that they personally were not inclined toward such pursuits, said that they were nevertheless understanding of their daughter’s interests and wanted to support her, making certain that anyone she got involved with was absolutely honest, reliable and caring.

“I want the whole thing, but I want to experience it without fear or harm,” Lynda said smiling first at Frank and then at the other three at the table.

“That’s a bit of a contradiction,” Ellen said. “Part of the psychology of BDSM is the fear factor. Not knowing what is happening or who is doing it is often responsible for the greatest highs.”

“Oh, I know that and I don’t want to change that part. It’s just that I don’t want any permanent damage, physically or mentally, for this. My plan is to grow old enjoying bondage safely,” Lynda added. “And…” she hesitated a moment, looking at her parents who were studying the entire exchange with some notable trepidation, “…there are some parts of this that I just do not want to participate in.”

“Such as?” Frank asked.

“Well, first, let me say that I am not interested in some of the stuff I’ve read about or heard or seen on the internet. Branding, burning and cutting are definitely out. I realize that some things appeal to some people and that’s fine, but not for me and I want to be able to differentiate between my interests and those of others, which I nevertheless respect.”

“Oh good,” laughed Ellen. “I’ll bet that’s a relief to your folks here.”

“No,” said the girl, no longer smiling. “I mean it. Some stuff, like scat, showers and so on just aren’t for me; nothing harmful, nothing deforming.”

“Consider though,” Ellen said, “that as you mature you may find appealing some things that are of little or no interest to you now. For the sake of this discussion,” she continued, “how do you view infibulations?”

“What?” interrupted Lynda’s mother, looking alarmed.

“Oh, sorry. I mean piercing or surgical modifications of the genitals. Not much different than your pierced ears, Mrs. Raymond,” said Ellen quickly, realizing that she might have inadvertently opened Pandora’s box.

“Oh. I see,” the Mother said, smiling a bit. “I know what you mean. I just don’t know the term. In fact,” she looked at her husband and then at her daughter, “I might offer here that I have had more than my ears pierced. It was a few years ago, but I decided it might be interesting. Hurt like hell, but the little gems are still there.”

“Mom!” Lynda burst out. “You never told me.”

“Well, you never told me that that boy from school was tying you up in the basement and did God knows what else to you, while we were away last winter, did you?”

“Ah, no. I guess I didn’t…for a while. But that’s why we’re all here now,” Lynda offered.

“Right,” said Frank, trying to sooth the simmering waters of family debate.

“Anyway, I’m not really sure about any kind of piercing,” said Lynda quickly. “The idea appeals to me in the sense that I think I’d like to have rings and stuff on, well, in, some erotic areas on my body, but I don’t think I want the pain of having them done. So it’s a dilemma.”

“You have a lot of company there,” added her mother, grimacing and then taking a long sip of her margarita. “Knock me out and wake me up after they heal and I’m ok, but I don’t like the surgery.”

“Well, we can pass that up for now,” said Ellen. “But how did you get to this point? What have been your past experiences with …” she glanced around the crowded dining room, “…BDSM?”

“I honestly think that I was born wanting to be tied up,” Lynda said at once. “My parents used to find me in my bed with the ends of the sheets tied to my wrists and feet, sleeping soundly. I fantasized about some scene I saw on TV or in a movie and carried it out in bed. Later, I graduated to rope and other materials, but I was inclined to tie myself and then go to sleep that way, so they would find me in bed, bound and gagged and blindfolded and they would not have a clue as to how this happened.”

“Scared the hell out of us,” her father added.

“But in time, after I explained it to them, they got used to it and were there just in case I needed help. I am very, very lucky to have them as parents and we have always shared everything. So getting past the secret part of this was pretty simple, at least in hindsight.”

“Pretty damned understanding parents, in these times especially,” Ellen said.

“Yes, they were and they are,” said Lynda, “which is why they wanted us to talk. I want the experience and not with some nut I pick up in a college town bar or at some frat party. I am, at least, I think, AC/DC and most of my real time experience has been with women I roomed with and trusted. My current roommate is a gem, but she found a guy she really likes and at the moment they are not into anything other than pure, crazy normal sex without the anything more exotic than handcuffs on the headboard.” Everyone at the table smiled knowing smiles.

“I think….and I told her, that this will change and that she needs to clue him in about her proclivities, but that’s her business. It also leaves me thinking about taking a semester or two off and exploring with you guys. I am willing to work with or for you, doing chores or whatever you want, to help out.”

“Everyone at the camp works,” said Ellen. “You really give up your life options while you are with us. We may, for example, sell or lease you to other parties.”

Lynda’s mother again looked horrified and swallowed the entire remains of her drink, signaling the waiter for another.

Ellen continued. “What we do is recreational in most respects with consenting adults at play. Some of it, no, most of it, is fun. But don’t forget that it’s a business. Some of it is at times distasteful but that goes with the territory. You might, for example, find yourself cleaning out the latrines, toilets, in nothing but a leather thong with a plug up your ass, a gag locked in your mouth and chains on your feet and wrists. Fail to meet the performance standard and you’ll be flogged, perhaps in private or even with an audience. How does that strike you…no pun intended?”

“Oh. Yes. That’s a part of it for sure,” said the girl, shifting in her chair and licking her lips unconsciously while her mother tried to hide a shudder of horror at the thought of her daughter kneeling in chains with the other mentioned devices inside her. “Do you do deep fantasy stuff too?”

“Like what?” Frank asked. “I’m always interested in hearing new fantasies. The old standbys are a bit worn out. Not that we don’t indulge in them, but new topics are always welcome.”

“Oh, mine are pretty much old school I guess, the forced slave maid, the captive in the desert tent, the hostage taken by the robbers, the prisoner of corrupt nuns and priests, and the hostage of the insurgents or pirates. Vanilla, comic book stuff like that.” Lynda closed her eyes a moment and then continued, “I also have a fascination for sexy clothing. I started buying erotic underwear and wearing it to work years ago. I know I’m not alone in that, but the idea of bondage combined with sexy lingerie has always been appealing.”

“I know what you mean,” said Ellen. “It’s really part of mainstream culture in the Western World, I think. You can walk the streets in almost any major city in Europe and North America and see some pretty exciting lingerie on display. It’s almost as though everyone acknowledges it, but doesn’t want to say that they like it.”

“Well, anyway, that’s my fantasy set, more or less,” said Lynda.

“Pretty vanilla, but fine for openers,” said Frank. “Tell me something. And I hope I don’t embarrass anyone here, but how do you feel about your body? Are you happy with it?”

“Yeah. Yes, I think so. There’s enough to play with, I think. Everything works okay. I’d like longer, better orgasms, but that, from what I’ve studied, may come if I get into this with you and your friends.”

“Okay,” said Ellen, picking up the topic. “But suppose you end up being owned by someone who wants you to have a smaller waist, or bigger breasts. Would you go along with it? More important, would you agree to it even before it ever came up?”

“Gee, I hadn’t thought about that, but I think that as long as I wasn’t damaged.” She looked down at her chest for just a second and then continued. “I’d go with it….you know what I mean. I don’t want to come home from your place with a pair of massive tits,” She looked around the room quickly as she realized she was talking perhaps too loud, “Like a G cup or something that would make me a freak. But otherwise, I’d sign off on it.”

“No later regrets?” asked her mother with concern.

“Well, Mom,” Lynda said, smiling again at her mother. “Did you have any?”

“Regrets about having my boobs enhanced?”

“Yes.”

“No. Never. But the maintenance is a bit tiresome at this age.”

“Well, that’s the way I feel too. If bigger tits are a part of the scenario, then I’m in, for better or worse.”

“I’m not saying it would ever be a factor,” said Ellen, “just asking to get a feeling for your mindset on this. One other question, two actually, and then let’s go ahead and eat, I’m starving. Would you want to be on the other side of S&M? I mean, are you strictly into being dominated or can you change roles and dominate someone else?”

“I haven’t really had the chance to do that,” Lynda said slowly, thinking about it as she talked. “I suppose that self bondage is, to some degree, a form of role switching. After all, if you want to tie yourself up and then abuse yourself, isn’t that sort of duality of roles, getting the most out of both?”

“That’s a fascinating analysis,” said Frank enthusiastically. “I don’t think it ever occurred to me, but it certainly makes sense and I’d say it was pretty clever. I like it.”

“Thanks,” Lynda said, smiling and taking a sip of her wine. “What’s your other question, Ellen?’

“What’s your biggest fantasy? The one you would like to have carried out if you had only one wish?” Ellen said quickly.

“Oh boy. That changes as I get older. At one time it was pretty simple and I think it came from comics, TV shows and movies. I just wanted to be tied up and held against my will by someone. Eventually, by the time I started my periods, I realized that sex was a big part of this too. But the original stimuli were stories like the girl detective. Nancy Drew, being taken hostage by the bad guys, I guess. The idea of being held against my will, bound and gagged and, as in the comics, nothing more, was pretty stimulating.” She took another sip of wine and looked thoughtful for a moment, “Maybe the old Wonder Woman thing, being bound with my own golden rope. That had a lot of shadow agenda to it, I think. I once saw an old TV movie about Joan of Arc and there were scenes of her chained in a dungeon cell and I wanted that for a long time.”

BOOK: Having It All
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