Jennifer's Postal Predicament

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SensoryOverlord
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Jennifer's Postal Predicament

Post by SensoryOverlord »

Jennifer's Postal Predicament
Fiction by SensoryOverlord (C) 2011
F-solo, MF/f, mf/F, F/f, M/f, nc, humil, teen, toys, furniture, farce.

All that legal guff about how you might be an innocent child, or living under a censorious government, puritanical legal system, your mother wouldn't approve, you should not be here, you really must stop now, etc. Sigh... What a fucked up world. Anyway, what follows is an explicit, graphic, extreme sexual fantasy. You have been warned. Leave now if not already corrupted.

Synopsis:
Teen girlfriend sets up an erotic, inescapable self-bondage scene at home alone after school, as a treat for her boyfriend, who she expects to arrive soon. Naturally, things go awry.

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Chapter 1. The Story (Part 1 of 3)

You open the cover, and begin to read, hoping the hot bits start right away. Instead, there is a small weatherboard cottage, set in an enclosing circle of thick shrubbery and trees, in late afternoon suburban summer sunshine. To the right, a winding path leads up via worn sandstone steps through the bushes to a street higher on the hillside. It is not far, yet from up there on the street, at the gate and letter box, the house is hidden. There is only the stepped path, leading down, twisting among bushes. There are neighboring houses, but they too are hidden, separated by depths of trees and overgrown weedy greenery from each other and the street.

It is a very old cottage. Built cheaply once, and rarely maintained, it has reached a sort of agreement with dilapidation, in which the owners do just enough to keep it rentable, to tenants of limited means. For all that, the peeling paint and broken-wired clothes hoist around the side, it still seems a happy, cheerful little home. There are bright curtains in the windows, and healthy pot plants on the flaking concrete porch. Music can be heard from inside; an early Elton John album. In the year of our story, this is the sort of music teenagers would be listening to. There is a peal of delightful girlish laughter, then only music again. Otherwise, the house reveals little, since whoever is inside has chosen to close the front door (actually, the only door), and draw all the curtains on this fine, sunny and warm afternoon. Old it may be, but this little house still has its secrets. It sits there, sunshine on its peeling white paint, providing its occupants with what they desire most -- privacy. An isolated, intimate solitude, to enjoy each other's company and other pleasures, for some hours each day. To be free of all other cares and control. Discovering the physical joys, along with the fascination and difficulties of haltingly adult relationships.

Reading, you are getting impatient with such abstract stuff, and wondering whether it's maybe time to skip to some other _real_ porn text file. The author takes pity on you, and switches the view to inside this cottage.

The couple are young teens, boy and girl. Naked on a rumpled bed, they are idly chatting, listening to the music, clearly post-intercourse. She is lying lengthways on her side, facing out into the room. He is sitting cross legged behind her, back against the wall, stroking fingertips along the intoxicating curves of her thigh, hip and waist. Half as a pleasure for her, half in simple awed amazement at her beauty, and his joy in having this time with her. They talk of nothing much, and often lapse into the silence of friends who have spent much time together already. Merely enjoying the touching, and the music. Soon it will be time to get up, and dress, and tidy away the signs of their lovemaking, before the girl's mother arrives home. Two hours, between school end, and parental presence — that is their oasis, their refuge and playground, those days they can be together then.

Her name is Jennifer, and she had turned 16 only this year, only a few months ago. Her boyfriend, Greg, is a few months ahead of her into his 17th year. She is beautiful, tall, with a fully developed woman's figure and the face of an as yet undiscovered movie heroine. When she is sure of herself, it is a strong face, and she has a vein of strength in her character to match, when circumstances are right. Yet her 16 years and family misfortune have made her often hesitant and shy. Her father was never the same after the war, and took to drink for his shell-shattered nerves. Growing up in a struggling family, the youngest of three, her two brothers rarely home, her mother trying her best to make ends meet on her meagre typist's income and father's pension, Jennifer had survived a less than ideal childhood. In the last few years, her father's binges had worsened, till her mother had given up on him. With the brothers long since left, she and Jennifer had a few months ago leased this small home on their own.

This had made life for Jennifer and Greg much more interesting, since now they had a secluded oasis, guaranteed to be theirs alone for at least two hours a day, every weekday. They had been lovers before, but only in those random times that can be stolen away from the demands of life, family and school. Long evening drives in a parent's borrowed car, or day trips to secluded bush campsites. But since the move, they had got down to some serious exploration of the sexual adventure land.

Neither was previously experienced — either in sex, or the ways in which two novice adult minds can interact. They made many mistakes, and suffered more than a few foolish inconsequential fallings out, and in again. Learning haltingly, too slowly, that the ways we see others act are not necessarily the ways we should act. That there are choices unspoken of, and paths both simple and deep that can be taken, regardless of past events. That some things said to be important, are not, and other things commonly dismissed, are worth attention.

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One thing that has been slowly dawning on him, is that Jennifer seems to rather like being _made_ to do things. Sexual things, particularly. It seems strange to him at first, a difficult idea to get to grips with, since he is by nature a rather free-willed individual, and hates being ordered to do things of any sort, by anyone. Which doesn't make his school life very enjoyable. Till he starts to comprehend this streak in her personality, he had never seriously considered such an idea: that of making an enjoyable game out of plays with dominance and submission. But it grows on him, and ideas begin to occur to him. He does tend to have an inventive mind, once he turns it to a particular problem. One time she mentions to him that she loves it when he finds her in a bad mood, disinterested in sex, and then forces her to submit to a finger fucking, until she is panting with desire, eager for anything.

He has always had something of a fascination with the act of inserting objects in her cunt — mostly with the effect it has on her to work some improbable but phallic object deep and long in her sex, churning it around in her till she moans with pleasure, her hands pressing flat on her belly, her loving the feel of the thing so deep up her, pressing at her fingers from inside her own body. With her thighs taut and wide, her mons thrusting up, urging the intruder deeper, she groans "Ohhhhh yessss... stir me up... stir meeee... yess......" As well as the visual pleasure this brings him, and the thrill of kinky erotica, it seems to him that the very fact that he can always make her submit to this, is perhaps the most exciting element of all. She will _always_ let him do as he wishes with her, all it takes even at the most unlikely times, is a few minutes of sinking his fingers in her. And she knows this, and never refuses that initial act.

A few times lately, he has begun to experiment with placing objects fully inside her cunt, and having her leave them in there for varying intervals. He has not yet dared to try making her do this during her school day, or overnight while she is home with her mum, but the idea is lurking there. He just isn't yet quite comfortable with this idea that she really will do most anything he says.

Just once they have tried having her wrists tied to the bed head, which made for an interesting session of fucking and vagina stirring with candles and so on. They had only just discovered the word 'bondage', and great variety of interesting things possible with ropes — in a couple of porn magazines he had found. So far they hadn't tried any of those things; sort of at the 'sniffing at the glass and looking thoughtful' stage. But it's clear to both of them that it's she who would be bound, not he, and that just the idea alone makes her instantly wet.

There is a more immediate issue to be pursued. An idea he'd had, and was exploring. For the last few days, he has been adding frustration to their games — refusing to bring her to orgasm, or allow her to achieve it herself. Not until she will do as he requests with the bedposts.

Her bed has phallic corner posts — belly high, round turned wood, large egg sized and shaped top knob. He has asked her to tip-toe over one, and lower her sex onto it, seeing how far she can bear to insert it, and to try and make herself cum on it. She is reluctant — it seems so big, and she is a little afraid of somehow slipping, and injuring herself. But mostly just embarrassed to have him stand by, watching her do such a kinky thing. There is also a worry at the back of her mind -- what if she really likes it -- would she be able to resist the temptation to do it often? Too often?

Yesterday, her several-days-denied need for orgasm, and his coaxing, had overcome her resistance late in the afternoon. That day he had not undressed, but had remained fully clothed as he at first cuddled her, then teased her into another arousal, then undressed her. They had sat most of the afternoon, she naked in his lap, talking, as he now and then toyed with her sex, keeping her wanting more as he returned the conversation at times to his idea for her on the post. She had been surprised to find herself enjoying the situation -- it always made her feel a kind of warm satisfaction, a kind of 'owned' feeling, when she sat naked on his knee, his fingers possessing her vagina, driving the excitement of her body and mind with a power she could not control, nor did she wish to. Somehow, this new twist, that he was using this power over her to persuade... no, to coerce, her to do an act at once frightening and exciting, even perverted... somehow that added a sharp tang of kinky excitement to the experience. She thought she should be angry with him, for trying to manipulate her, but somehow.... all she could think of was how his fingers felt, and how much she wanted more.

Finally, with not much time remaining to them that day, and excited to distraction, she had agreed. She had stood herself on tiptoe over the post, its tip pressing against her already moist slit. Hesitating, she had glanced at him, standing some feet away, his gaze intent and commanding. She'd felt the heat in her sex burning, eager for the feel of that firm pressure deeper inside, and eager to please him. Yet as she lowered herself slightly, and the fat hard knob slipped suddenly inside her, only a little but so forceful and large, stretching her... In a hot flash she felt almost overwhelmed by a sense of nasty erotic abandon; a wildness that made her want to drive herself onto the post violently, even to hurt herself... to cum and cum... and the thoughts made her suddenly afraid, afraid of losing control, of injuring herself on the solid, unmoving pole. Yet she burned with desire, for him, for relief from the last week's frustrations, for his reassurance and touch. She'd pulled off, abandoning the attempt and falling wordless into his arms. Hoping he would lay her down and fuck her into heaven.

Instead he'd simply held her in a hug for long moments, him dressed, her naked, then let her go. He was annoyed with her; that she made such a half-hearted attempt, then quit without getting more than an inch of the bed post inside. He had been expecting the erotic visual treat of seeing his beautiful girlfriend standing, deeply transfixed on the post, its thick wooden girth splaying her sex. He'd planned to masturbate her there to orgasm, teasing her immobile clit as he kneeled in front of her, admiring the sight of her emposted cunt. He wasn't interested in any other outcome. Soon after that he'd left, being a little cold to her, in the peevish uncommunicative way of teenagers. Leaving her heated and unsatisfied, yet with not enough time to relieve herself before her mother arrived home.

That evening she'd been plagued with erotic thoughts involving the bedposts and her pussy. It had felt so incredibly assertive — that thick, immovable shaft, so tall she'd been on very tips of her toes to even slide her sex onto its end. She can't stop wondering what it must feel like, if deeply sunk into her guts, her feet flat on the floor... or even (she shudders) spread wide apart to force it in as far as she could bear. She imagines what she would look like, her hips shuddering and humping on the immovable post, maybe forcing her to orgasm after orgasm! Maybe... though so far she has never had a vaginal orgasm, no matter how hard Greg tried, even with a vibrator. She is definitely a clitoris girl, so far -- and Greg is getting rather good at playing tunes on her body through that little instrument.

This recent tactic of his to use that pleasure to coerce her, to have her do as he wishes, it was surprising her with her own reactions to it. She'd grown long accustomed to his skill at bringing her to orgasm, and come to expect at least one or two every time they made love. Sometimes, especially in the last month, he seemed to dedicate their afternoon to experiments in how many times he could bring her to shuddering climax. Then a week ago, that had changed. As usual, he had teased her to a near frenzy, but then left her hanging. She'd assumed it was just a temporary tease, but as the afternoon wore on, and he repeated the process several times, she sensed something was different. He had made no comment, just smiled when she begged for the final release. It had gotten closer to the time of her mother's arrival, and still she was horny. With only minutes to go, he'd had her dress, then _still_ caressed her through her jeans and blouse, right until her mother's key turned in the lock. With her a little red-faced and out of breath, he'd chatted to her mum for a few minutes, then left, saying it was time to be home for tea. Even then, she'd assumed it was just a little game he'd chosen to play. The next day, for sure he'd make it up.

But he didn't. He came round, beating her there in fact. Then repeated almost exactly her previous torment. She'd been very angry with him in the last few minutes before he left, and her mother had assumed they'd had a row. That night she kept waking, her sex swollen and wet, from swollen, wet dreams. She cursed her bedroom's lack of privacy from her mother.

The next day she asked him what he thought he was doing, and would he please stop it. He'd smiled, and explained that it was an experiment, and no, he wouldn't. Said he was planning to do just the same for while, and see just how horny she would get. Maybe see what she would do for sex, once she really, really needed it. She'd gotten angry with him again, said some unkind things. He'd just calmly grabbed her, stripped off her clothes despite her quite strong resistance, and held her still, his fingers working the familiar magic in her cunt, his lips around her nipple. It amazed her, how the heat rose up through her from her sex, and evaporated the anger. That feeling, of being owned, in his power, it grew so strong that time, in the realisation that he could _make_ her want it, make her want him, even against her will. He had stayed for dinner that night, her still throbbing with the need, but somehow no longer angry with him for that. Perhaps it would be... interesting, to see how horny she would get. She still awoke from sweaty dreams that night, but it seemed easier to go back to sleep, despite the throbbing in her hungry sex.

The next morning she woke to find, surprised at herself, that her fingers had found their way under her belly and into her nightie, and must have been playing at her slit, to judge from its engorged and sopping state. But there are only light bedclothes over her, and her mother is bustling about and has already opened the doors to her room. She has no choice but to rise and begin her preparations for school. Even in the shower she has no privacy -- the bathroom door has no lock, and her mother is in the habit of walking in and out, regardless. She gets dropped off by mum at school, still aching in her sex. It's kind of cool, she thinks, the way he's making her so horny. Lucky her teachers don't know about the state of her knickers.

That afternoon when Greg again is there before her, she tries again to angrily confront him, saying it's cruel and heartless of him to treat her this way. But this time he does not even try to physically overpower her. He just stands back from her, and calmly tells her that if she wants to talk about this, she must first strip. Somehow, she cannot continue the act of anger, and complies sulkily, thinking that perhaps when she points out how puffy and red her genitals are, and how embarrassing it's been to walk around all day at school with a soaking wet stripe down the middle of her panties, perhaps he will relent.

He notices all right, but he doesn't relent. Far from it -- he seems greatly pleased to see definite evidence that his little experiment is bearing fruit. He has her stand in the middle of the room, legs wide apart, as he walks around her, closely admiring her straight-from-school state of arousal. He hugs her from behind, running his hands over her, kissing her neck, then kneels in front and fingers her hungry slit carefully, slowly. Loosening her will in that familiar way, then using her need as a goad, he has her describe her feelings and experiences of the last few days. He tells her this is working out far better than he hoped, and he loves her even more, to see her in this state of sexual heat, to know that she will allow him this power over her. Somehow, as he molds her heat in waves, rising and falling but never breaking, and they talk, she finds herself agreeing that she likes this, likes knowing she is horny for him, by his will. That she will bear the frustration, so they may both explore the intensities of desire of which her body is capable.

She finds herself kneeling, him sitting on the bed edge, her mouth working on his rigid cock, his hands holding her wrists, and her knees wide apart on the carpet, the fire blazing in her vacant cunt. He jets into her throat, groaning and she groans too, of the longing for release in her belly, but also of the pleasure in being his. Later, he has her lie back on the bed, as he licks and fondles her breasts, teasing her nipples to aching rigidity. He has her repeat again and again, that she will not attempt to masturbate. Gives her hints that there will be 'tasks' he wishes her to perform, and that this will be part of the experiment. She asks what sort of tasks, but he won't say. He wants her to agree that she will do whatever he says, and trust his judgement. She is not so sure, but he teases her to unsatisfied crest after crest, until she agrees that yes, she will do whatever he says.

Later, with her mother home again, and Greg gone, and her body still in a state of throbbing excitement, she recalls saying that. Rationally, she knows that might not have been a wise thing to agree to. But it does give her a strange shivery thrill to think of it. Doesn't help quiet the twitchy tension in her belly one bit, or soften the aching hard nipples under the stiff bra she has worn to hide them from her mother. Bed is again a series of hot dreams interrupted by waking, aching and wet, forcing her hands far away from her sex, and falling fitfully back to sleep.

The next day starts much the same, her horniness unabated by the time she gets to school. Except this time, rather than slipping from her mind in classes, it seems to gnaw at her most of the day. It is sometimes hard to avoid fidgeting in class, and she notices that when she gets up from the hard school chairs there is a patch of dampness on the lacquer. No one else notices though, thankfully. That afternoon, she throws off her dress as soon as they are inside, and poses, pointing out how very hard her nipples are, how soaked her panties, how swollen and red her sex, and how very juicy. He checks, sliding a pair of fingers in without resistance, smiles, tells her she is fantastic. Going into the bedroom, he mentions that one thing he'd like her to do for him, is to stand with a bedpost of her bed deep in her cunt. Says it casually, as if it should be a trifle, an easy thing to do. Somewhat stunned, she goes to the bed and stands next to a post. It comes nearly up to her belly button! And it's so thick! He can't be serious!

Apparently, he was. Even offering to end the 'exploration of horniness' experiment and let her cum if she would do it.

That day she'd flat out refused to consider it, even as he brought her to several agonisingly-close-but-not-quite-an-orgasm peaks. Her dreams that night had featured huge objects ripping into her tender sex, but had still had her waking out of breath and aching. At school, she kept thinking of those bedposts. They weren't really that thick, when you thought about it. Maybe it would fit. And she could stay up on her toes. But the idea was still scary, though she could kind of see why he would think it would look sexy. In English class, she had a sudden image of her young and pretty teacher Miss Hibson standing naked and impaled on such a post at the front of the class, and could barely control herself from giggling in the middle of lesson. Yes, she could definitely understand the appeal.

So today she had tried the post trick for him, and chickened out while barely begun. He'd left, clearly annoyed with her, and here she was, still without relief after nearly a week of his skillfully teasing frustration. The memory of how the post had felt, its thick immovability, is still vivid in her mind. She can still almost feel it in herself. Even pressed only a little into her body, it was so intense, with such an erotic promise. She wishes she had not pulled off it, in fright at the power of it.

Lying in bed, trying to get to sleep, she goes back over the last week. She thinks she should be angry with him, but somehow something in her seems to enjoy this game. She suspects she will be doing quite a few things that would never have occurred to her otherwise — he is very inventive. Certainly, she has admitted to herself that tomorrow will definitely see her doing exactly as he wishes with the bedpost. He won't even have to ask. With a nasty, wicked shudder, she thinks that if Greg tied her legs wide apart to something, she wouldn't be able to lift her cunt off the post! She'd be trapped, pinned like a cum-bug on the wooden bedpost, her struggles serving only to stir the fucking shaft around in her stuffed cunt.

It drives her crazy that now her mother is home, she cannot try it right away. Nor in the morning. She can't even masturbate, since the door connecting her room and her mother's bedroom (a converted sunroom) is glass panelled and has no lock. Lately she has been developing a habit of crying out as she comes, no matter how hard she tries to keep quiet. She won't get another chance till tomorrow afternoon. She resolves to do it again then, with lubrication, and put on a show for Greg. God! What if he tied her hands behind her back on there? With her sex effectively immobilised... Last time he gave her head, it was with her hands tied, and it had been unbelievable! What would head feel like, with her cunt impaled on her bedpost? Hmmmmm it makes her very horny thinking about Greg giving her head -- the way he teases her to the edge many times, then draws back, building her urgency. Then finally flicking her into a mindless orbit of ecstasy, taking her around and around, time after glorious time.

She can't wait -- it's such a treat! Maybe she really ought to let him come in her arse like he keeps wanting too -- it can't be too awful. That would be a treat for him. Or .... hmmm... She has a thought. A treat for Greg: herself, already fully down on the post, and... and unable to get off it! Yes! She could do that, he'd _love_ it. He'd walk in (he has a key) and find her like that... naked, fuck-crazy already, humping on the shaft. She can imagine the look on his face -- like 'WOW Jen! Thats soooo hot!' And what would he do then? She doesn't know, but he's tended to be pretty imaginative at times. Something equally kinky, perhaps. Probably starting with tying her hands behind her again... yeah, that would really... ohhhh it makes her aching hot to think of it. Perhaps she should even do that herself... could she? Some kind of slip knot?

In the morning she wakes up horny as a toad, but the same old story- her privacy is almost non-existent in this small, old rented house, and the schedule to get ready for her mum to drop her off at school allows for no lying around in bed anyway. She does make a quick phone call to Greg, checking that he'll definitely be around straight after school that day. He still seems a little short with her, but says yes, he'll be round as usual, but perhaps a little later, due to having to do some house chores. She asks her mum if it's OK for Greg to have dinner at their place tonight; it is. So that's arranged too, for 7pm.

School that day is a torment of aching pussy and flitting erotic thoughts. If her teachers knew what is occupying her... She is planning how to tie herself so she is stuck on her bedpost. Recently Greg and she had been reading a few smut magazines, on bondage and stuff, and she can remember some of the knots. It won't be easy, but she thinks she can do it. She makes an inventory in her head. They have some lengths of soft cotton rope, and a pair of handcuffs, stashed among the junk under her bed. An old broom in her closet, that never gets used. Hand cream. Some gear from Greg's rock climbing rack, that he just happened to leave at her place after their last day away bouldering. And, yeah, a note. Maybe, taped to her.... um breast would look hot. Saying something like 'Darling Greg, my sweetie, I'm all yours to play with. Have fun. Love, Jennifer.' Which reminds her... the other thing he'd wanted to try too, which might be pretty nice, if the wonderful feelings of a fingertip working into her rear as he lap-fucked her were anything to judge by. It might be a good idea to prepare for that too.

After school she gets the bus home, sex on fire in anticipation. Runs down the steep winding little path to her house, and lets herself in, slamming the door behind her, and practically tearing her uniform off. She is naked in 3 seconds flat, tosses on her dressing gown, and fills an old shampoo bottle with warm water in the bathroom. Then a dash out to the outside toilet around the side of the house, and the novel feeling of squeezing warm water up into her rear, cleaning that out. After she is finished, and back inside the house, she dashes through a crash shower and pretty-up. God she looks great! Her figure is perfect- all the feminine curves and padding, without an ounce of overweight. Breasts full and rated teen-16-perfecto, with large, hard nipple icing on top. It's hard to resist the burning heat in her cunt, but she manages. Maybe the hand cream won't be needed, if she's as wet inside as she feels. She gets the materials for today's little adventure, dumps them on her bed, and starts tying knots.

First, she firmly fixes one rope segment to the handle end of the broomstick, winding it around several times and tying it off tight. The free ends she wraps around her left ankle several times, firmly but comfortably, then ties. Now the broomstick is fastened to her ankle, over the top of her foot, making it awkward to move around. But then, she doesn't have to. Sitting on the bed edge, she ties another, longer rope length around her right ankle, leaving one end with about five meters free. The end of this next gets tied to the connecting chain of the handcuffs, so that she will be able to pull on it with her hands locked behind her back. Most of this free rope is left lying loosely on the floor. Next, the brush end of the broom gets a short length of rope tied to it, and that ties the rock climber's belaying cam firmly to the end of the broom. This is a palm-sized U-channel of metal, with a sprung toothed cam. Its purpose is to let a rope be pulled easily through in one direction, but to lock firmly against any movement of the rope in the other direction. The rope can only be released with a complicated safety interlock action, that requires several fingers at once to accomplish. Designed to ensure the rope can never, ever come out or slip back accidentally. As a test, she opens the cam, and slips in the loose ankle rope. Standing, she pulls up on this rope, pulling it through the cam. Sure enough, her right ankle is pulled outwards towards the broom brush. She shifts her weight, letting her legs spread wide apart, ankles splayed right to the opposite ends of the broomstick. She tries to bring her legs back together -- nope! The cam holds the rope solidly; her legs are tied apart, and only releasing the cam or untying knots will save her pussy from enforced exposure. In fact, just this tie gives her a wicked thrill, and as she stretches to release the cam and pull enough rope back through it to sit, knees together again, she finds that if she was a little less flexible, just this simple leg stretch would be hard to get out of.

Then she ties a second cam to the center of the broomstick. And another longish length of rope to the very foot of the bedpost, at a narrowing just above the bottom end. The loose end of this rope also gets tied loosely to the handcuff's connecting chain, while its middle is clipped into the mid-broomstick cam. When this rope is pulled tight, it will lock the middle of the broomstick to the base of the bedpost.

So there is not much more to do now. The note -- feeling extra daring now she has gone this far, she writes:

Darling Greg, my super-stud lover,
I'm all yours to play with. Have fun with your naughty,
masturbating girl-toy. I do it every day you don't come
round, but wishing you were inside me, so you should keep
on coming round every day! It's so much better having you
make me cum, over and over. Even when you tease me,
cum-starve me, I love it! It makes me feel so..... yours!
Today it's been five days without, and I'm _dying_ for it!
Yes, I will do anything you want -- anything.
Please make me cum?

She signs it 'Love, your ever-lustin Jenny' and sticks it to her breast with masking tape. Then she squeezes a generous goop of hand cream into her palm, and carefully spreads it over the phallic shape of the bed post. Another, for a shakingly slow, single wipe down into her crotch, and up the cleft of her rear. She dares not linger at this, lest she be sidetracked.

Till Greg had suggested the idea, she had honestly never considered the posts in _that_ way. It was just her bed, that she'd had for most of her life. But now, running her cream-slicked fingers over the smooth-turned features of the post, she thinks that some bed designer had a dirty mind. The post could not be better designed for sex, if it.. well, if it was designed for it. At the top is a pointy topped ball-egg shape. Rounded, pointy tip, thickening in an organic curve to a worryingly (to her) fat 2.5" width, about 3" down. Then a sudden narrowing, definitely reminiscent of the back end of an erect penis glans. Following that, a good foot of the post is turned in a series of smooth ridges, quite close spaced. She can only guess what that will feel like, once her sex makes their acquaintance. The rest of the post is plain, becoming square sectioned only as it joins the bed frame.

Damm, if she doesn't tie her hands soon, she'll probably get permanently side tracked, she thinks. Her cunt and clit are screaming for action. Besides, Greg will be here any moment, it's nearly 4.30, she sees. Lucky there's no need to do all that complicated stuff with blocks of ice and keys, like in the magazines. So she just grabs the handcuffs, and quickly locks them on her wrists, behind her back. She can reach the ropes to the two cams on the broomstick, and that is all that's needed now.

Standing, she faces the open door of her room, kicks the hanging ropes and dragging broomstick into position, and on tip toes, positions her sex over the slippery tip of the wooden post. Ahhhh, even on her toes, it presses firmly against her... and this time, letting herself press down on its well lubed bulk is a very special feeling. The rounded point slides thickly in between her pouting labia, spreading her inner flesh onto its reaming diameter. Hmmmmmmmm.... nice! A bit more, and she can feel the full thickness of the eggish head straining into her cunt entrance.... ohhhh thats mmmmmmmmmm.... She finds herself propping up on her toes again, and letting down, just to savour that wonderful feeling of the thick object pressing into her opening. But the time.... any moment now, Greg might arrive, and she is not yet 'packaged'. Better just dive in.... so she grits her teeth, and deliberately grinds herself down hard onto the post, feeling the fat ovoid pop past her opening, and slickly slide into her hot depths. She cannot help a soft 'Unnnghhhhhhh' as she exhales, feeling for the first time the ridges on the post slipping into her sex, popping in rapid series past her tightest point, and caressing her sensitive insides. Feet flat on the floor now, but legs still together, she moans "Oh God, that is really fucking big, ohhhhh hhooo hoo oh wowwww.... Oh this is going to be something fucking else..."

She rests a moment, accustoming to the new bulk inside her, the way it is so solid there, moving not the slightest as her hips rock slightly around on its impalement. It's soooooo good.. But she can take more... and she could still escape from this wooden spear if she wanted to, which kind of spoils the scene. So, slowly, carefully, she works her feet outwards, increasing the gap between them, and thus lowering her sex gradually onto deeper intrusion by the bedpost. HHHhhhhhhmmmm..... Ohhhhhhhh Hmmmmmmm... It just seems to get better, so far. She can feel it really, really getting deep into her belly. Ohhhhh wowwwww so deep, huuuuuuuu weeeeee! She gives in to the temptation to let her hips gyrate in a sexual grind, and finds that it's actually impossible- the shaft deep in her sex pins her whole pelvis more or less in one position. All she achieves is a sensation of stirring pressure rotating around in her cunt, but not much actual hip movement. Ahhhhhh... a little more.... feet wider.... now there is a twinge of discomfort; her cunt is being stretched up inside her further than it likes to be. And other things inside are being poked and displaced almost painfully as well. Is that far enough? She tries an experimental up and down fuck-bounce — only a little one, and the sensations are so intense she squeels in surprise "Oooooeeeeeiiii! Ohhhhhh hhuuuu..." 'Oh yeah! That is just so intense!' she thinks as she repeats the action several times, but a bit more cautiously. 'Ohhhh fuuuuck! this is sooooooo fucking right up there!'

For a few moments she loses herself in this deep river of intense erotic sensation, then snaps out of it, thinking of the time again. She does so want to impress Greg with her clever rope trick. Fumbling behind her with cuffed hands, she grips the ankle rope, and pulls it up. There is quite a bit of slack, which she has to work through her fingers, but soon she can feel the rope from her ankle to the broomstick cam go tight. The moment of truth. Her legs are not split anywhere near as wide as she can go, so her hip joints are comfortable. Yet the post is deep, deep inside her, and as she tries a tentative bend at the waist to see how close she can get her hands to either ankle or broomstick, she grunts at the jab of discomfort inside her belly. No, bending at the waist is out, when there is a solid object up though the middle of your waist. Or it feels like it anyway. Experimentally, she tries to lift up on her toes in this spread-legged position. She can lift up perhaps 4". Leaving what feels like another 5" of the post still rammed rigidly up her twat.

She then tries shifting her feet sideways, trying to get one leg vertically under her. Apart from the broomstick forcing her other foot way out wide and up in the air, and the balancing act required, it looks like at this point it would still be possible to escape the pole. So she centers her feet again, and pulls on the other rope. She feels no change, but looking down she can see that the center of the broomstick is now locked tight to the base of the bedpost. She tries the side-shuffle thing again, and it is just not possible. 'Yep, this is permanent. Even if she changed her mind now, this is how Greg will be finding her.'

It gives her a sudden heady flush of hot excitement, realising that she has actually done it -- tied herself up in this slutty position, to give her boyfriend a treat. She sure must trust him, why, he could do just about anything he liked to her, fixed like this. Except fuck her of course, unless he takes her off this bedpost first. 'Oh God', she thinks, 'imagine if someone _else_ found me like this!' For a moment more, she idly imagines some stranger finding her now, then a thought pops up. 'Ah. Did I lock the front door?' In fact, now she thinks about how she was in such a rush, it seems she may not have. She is facing her open bedroom door, not six feet from it. Beyond, the small combined dining and kitchen room of this little house. Which the front door opens into. Someone coming in the front door need only walk about three paces before they will see her, framed front-on in her doorway. She cannot even turn around, since she is straddling the corner of her bed. She leans forward a little and looks down at her crotch. Yep, there it is -- a large wooden post disappearing into her cunt, her spread legs and sparse blond bush doing nothing to hide the details of distended, engorged labia parted wetly around that thick rod. Parted widely enough to reveal her excited clit, poking erectly from under its hood, just begging to be messed with. Considering the note, still dangling from her tit, the picture would seem pretty clear to anyone, not just Greg, she supposes. Something like 'freaky slut here, go for it', most likely.

For some reason, this train of thought seems to overwhelm her ability to control her movements, and her hips start a serious pole-fucking rhythm. Through the deliriously over the top sensations this produces, she realises another mistake she has made. She should not have spread quite so far, into the boundary of penetration pain -- for it leaves her little room to thrust, to work the shaft in her needy sex. Without the difficult exertion of going to tiptoe on her spread feet, she can only manage about an inch of pistoning fun -- and even then she keeps getting jabs of pain at the down thrust. What with the inadequate amount of cunt stroking, and the flashes of pain every time her body's need overcomes her conscious control and goes down a bit too far, and her poor deserted clit standing forlornly out of reach of her hands, and not even squeezable between her labia, she realises that she may have set herself up for some heavy duty frustration, rather than any possibility of the elusive Vaginal-Orgasm. Still, hopefully Greg will fix that. Lucky he's due any moment!

At this very thought, the telephone rings. She can even see it, on a side table in the dining room, just outside her door. It has a long cable, and she often brings it into her room, to lie on her bed and chatter away to her friends. But the long cord does her no good now. Still hunching her inch of freedom on the pole, she listens to it ring, once, twice, three times, then the answering machine picks up. Her own voice cheerfully announces "Hello, we're busy right now, please just, you know, like leave a message!...... beeep." Then it's Greg's voice, sounding a bit sheepish "Uh, hi Jennifer, are you there? Pick up, it's me!...... Well, uh, I know I said I'd be round early, but sorry, my mum wants me to do some chores that, I uh, didn't get around to last weekend. So... sorry. I'll be over by seven for dinner though. Want to go see a movie after? Love you! You be good now! Bye. click."

For several moments, she stands there, half-preoccupied with the powerful sensations in her sex, as she twists on the pole. Part of her mind is also still fantasising about some stranger walking in through the unlocked front door, and taking advantage of her complete helplessness. Only gradually does she refocus on Greg's message. Her first thought is 'Well, isn't that just like him! I go to all this trouble, and he doesn't show up. Typical! Men!' Then 'I'll have a thing or two to say to him when he gets here! Leaving me stuck here like this! He's always complaining about _me_ being late. Hah!' She spends a few more moments bending forward a little, looking down at her sex as it hunches up and down on the post. Thinking 'Man, what you are missing. This sure does look hot and kinky, if I say so myself. I think I'm going to have to do this more often. But with a bit more slack!'

She is drifting off into thoughts about what she should get ready for their dinner, when her mind's curtain of denial rips down the middle, sending her thoughts reeling. She cries out aloud "Ahhhhh nooooo! Ohhhhhh FUCK Oh shit! I'm STUCK here, and MUM is going to come home at six. And thats an hour and a half away! OHHHH Boy! Ohhhhh fuck, this is not good. And the front door is unlocked, but thats the least of my worries. What is _Mum_ going to do when she sees _this_? Oh oh.... Oh Greg you shit... Ohhhhhhhhhh... I'm dead. I'm like TOTALLY dead. 'Oh hi Mum, how was your day? No, nothing special at school, and you know, I'm just standing here, like, fucking my bed. What would you like for dinner, mum? No thats all right Mum, it's nothing, just, if you could spare a moment, unclip that cam there, yeah, at my ankle there. No, no, it's quite all right, I'd do the rest, thanks Mum, you're a dear. Just a minute while I put some clothes on, Mum.' Oh heep deep doo doo Jen! You have just _got_ to get out of this before six, or it's the end of life as we know it."

In a state of horrified panic, she stares down at her ingenious creation of ropes, desperately looking for a flaw, a mistake, a weakness in her brilliant plan. She twists and shakes on the pole, struggling to pull her feet against their ties to the wooden broomstick handle. But nothing gives way, no knots miraculously work loose. All that happens is that her cunt gets bruisingly joggled on the firmness of the bedpost, and she accidentally drops low enough to cause her insides some painfully deep probing. And as if this predicament is not enough on its own, for some perverse reason the situation seems to act like petrol tossed on the fires in her sex. She is really burning up now, her clit aching in serious need.

After some minutes of almost unthinking desperate struggling, she pauses, panting, her mind still frantically insisting there must be _some_ way to get free, but thinking that perhaps she just needs to try and hold still and think carefully about the problem. Except that her sexual heat keeps getting in the way. She can barely hold her hips still, the need for orgasm is so strong. She tries to bring her cuffed hands far enough round to her front to reach even one finger down to her clit, but that is not possible either. Straining as hard as she can, the cuffs painfully cutting into her wrists, her finger is still a useless three inches from her goal. Her clit is as out of reach as escape itself.

Nor can she reach the incriminating note, still firmly taped to her breast. She can read it though, upside down and damming that it is. 'Ohhhhh her mother is going to read that.... ohhhhhh fuuuuuck! Masturbating... ' This is not going to be good.... She remembers well, the time a year ago in her old house, her father away permanently drunk at the pub as usual, when she'd been masturbating after school, lying on her bed covers, jeans and panties pushed down to mid thigh, and her fingers buried between her legs, and after a really great cum she'd fallen asleep. To wake with her mother, just home from work, standing beside her and staring expressionlessly down at her incriminating pose. Just then she'd said only "Girl, don't you dare move a muscle! I'll be back to deal with you in a moment." As her mum turned and stalked off to her room, Jennifer had noticed the camera in her mother's hand. She'd never found out if her mother had already taken any pictures then, but she definitely took some later... Though she'd never heard of them again. Still, that evening became burned in her own memory, even without any pictures to remind her of the painful events.

Too afraid to move, she had listened to her mother changing out of her work clothes, and using the bathroom. She had begun to seriously wonder if her mother was all right in there, when she had come back to Jennifer's room, stern faced and oddly flushed. If she'd thought things were bad then, she rapidly came to understand how much worse they could get, as her mother commanded-

"Masturbating! Only fifteen, and masturbating, you disgusting girl! Well we'll see about that. No daughter of mine is going to fall into such habits. Stand up! Take those clothes off!" Her mum had stood there, looking like a thunderstorm, as Jennifer had hesitantly stood and stripped bare. Then grabbing the teen by the wrist, she had marched her into the kitchen- dining room, hissing "If your no-good father was any use, I'd have him give you a dammed good strapping for this. But he isn't, so I'll just have to do it myself! I will _not_ have my daughter doing such disgusting things to herself. Now, lie face down over the table. Yes, like that. Legs! Spread your legs! No, hands on the table, I've seen all that before. Good. Now, listen Jennifer, if you move a muscle, I'll start the punishment all over again, understand! You just stay there till I tell you to move."

Naked, bent over and spread legged, Jennifer had been terribly conscious of the sight her sex must be presenting her mother. She still felt wet and puffy from her fingering. There had been the sounds of her mother walking around the room, things being moved, cupboards closing. Then a long, silent pause, then _flash_ the tick of a camera. She had been too timid to even ask why her mother was taking photos. Several more flashes from behind, then some from the side she faced. Her mother's expression was strange — a kind of partly masked intensity and anger. Then her mother had moved out of sight behind her again, and shortly after, a long finger had slid slowly but firmly into her still slick sex. She had started, moving to rise, but her mother's other hand had pressed forcefully down on the small of her back. "No, you stay there. So! You are no longer a virgin either, it seems. How did that happen, you filthy girl? Did you let some boy _fuck_ you, or did you break it _mastubating_?" The single finger is withdrawn, only to be replaced by two, working around inside possessively. And to Jennifer's further consternation, arousingly. Struggling to hold still, she misses her question. Her mother demands "_WELL!_ How does your hymen come to be gone, before you are even sixteen, for God's sake?

She had broken it when she was fourteen, with the handle of a hairbrush. But it takes several minutes, and the threat of severe punishments before she can bring herself to admit this to her mother. In the end, it is the busy fingers in her cunt that that break down her reticence. Her mother is _not_ impressed. The fingers are removed, and there is some rummaging in a cutlery drawer out of sight. Then some cold, heavy rod-like object is pressed deeply into her now burning sex, and left. Another pause, then more camera flashes. Then her mother grips the object, and begins vigorously thrusting it in and out of her cunt, asking "And did you _cum_, you dirty girl? Are you quite familiar with _orgasm_? Did you cum _enough_ this afternoon, while your poor mother was still hard at work, earning the money to keep you in school? No, don't answer, I expect that even doing it till you passed out wasn't enough for a little slut like you!"

By now the object-fucking is getting her seriously turned on, and her hips escape her conscious control -- beginning to buck back at the thrusts. The tension of need for orgasm is gathering in her belly, and she moans in time with the thrusts. This seems to spur her mother on to even more vigor.

"See, you even like this! Disgusting. Well, then, put a hand down here, and do it yourself. Yes, under yourself, that's it. Hold it.. like this... Now, push it -- fuck yourself, that's right. Yes, like that.... yes, you seem quite practiced at it! No, don't stop. All right, time for your punishment. If you stop moving that before I say, you'll regret it dearly."

By now she is hardly likely to resist -- keeping that rod moving in her sex is exactly what she wants. It it thicker than anything she has dared use before, and longer too. Her heat is building like thunderclouds, but the position she is in, the way her mother made her cup her hand over the end of the long cylinder, that she cannot press in deeply enough to bring her hand in contact with her sex... Her clit is aching untouched, and she dares not shift to please it, though she longs to. Even the flashes of more photos being taken barely give her pause. Then there is silence for a little while, followed by the sensation of her mum's fingers rubbing over her cunt lips and clit, around the pistoning rod. For a second, the sensation is pleasant, till the burning hits. "Arrghhhhh mum! What have you...? Ooooohhhhhh Owwwwww owwww...!" She writhes in pain -- but somehow it drives her desire higher. She keeps thrusting the rod, faster.

"Just some chilli powder. And I'm now going to give you the spanking of your life. You just keep masturbating, you filthy slut, and remember this. If I ever catch you touching yourself there again, you'll think this was a picnic!"

Another pause, another flash, then _SMACK_ her arse erupts in fire equal to that in her sex. For some reason, it makes her hand spasm, shoving the rod in painfully deep. Her belly tenses up, the cum approaching fast on the burning fire of her spiced genitals. _SMACK_! She comes, massively, her head arched back, groaning her agonizing pleasure aloud. _SMACK SMACK SMACK_ A rapid series of explosions of fire across her buttocks. Her cum continues, her hand shoving the rod deep into her sex. _SMACK_ ..._SMACK_.... it all blends into one mash of sensory overload, that seems to go on for a long time. Sometimes she is coming, sometimes she is crying with the flashes of pain on her rear, or the chilli burning of her sex.

Eventually, she becomes aware that her mother has stopped spanking her. A few more photographs are taken, perhaps. She is not sure. Her wrist aches from holding the rod in her twat -- numb now to the rod, but still burning strongly from the peppers. Her mother takes the rod away, suddenly, leaving her feeling empty and sore all over. She is sent to bed, without dinner, but with a repeat of the warning "If I ever catch you..."

She remembers she had actually managed to avoid masturbating for a whole month after that. But at least she had learnt her lesson about falling asleep afterwards. Her mother had never caught her again, to this day. 'Looks like she'll catch me today though.' she thinks, dreading it. But why does thinking about that make her hips work harder on the pole? God, she needs to cum badly! Her nipples feel like they are as hard as steel, and her clit is about to explode. She wonders if she will still be in this state by the time her mother comes home. In... by the clock, another hour. Since she never could cum from purely vaginal stimulation, no matter how intense, she thinks the chances of her being just as visibly cum-crazy by then are pretty high. 'Just _great_ Jennifer' she thinks.

And then Greg will arrive, walking into whatever kind of trouble her mother will make. Poor Greg. She supposes her mum will forbid her to see him again. That makes her sad. Damm him! Why did he have to choose today to not come round when he said he would? Normally he is very reliable. Not surprising, for a 17 year old going round to sex his horny 16 year old girlfriend.

She is thinking of some of the fine times they have had together, and how she will miss him, and his lovely hard dick, when there is a knock at the front door. She was letting herself hunch the pole, grunting softly with her frustrated heat, when it happens. She freezes, silent. 'Oh God, who can _that_ be? She can't answer, they might....' The knock repeats, longer. A pause. Then another knock, insistent, and two voices, in unison "Hey! Jennifer, you there? Wake up! We've brought you some veggies!"
Last edited by SensoryOverlord on Tue Aug 06, 2024 4:19 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Jennifer's Postal Predicament

Post by SensoryOverlord »

Jennifer's Postal Predicament Ch1 part 2 of 3

She groans in recognition. 'Oh nooooo! It's the twins. Not now, Jesus....' They are the 14 year old twins of the couple in the next house along the street. Alan and Sally Rendal. Sometimes Mr Rendal gives her mum some vegetables from his garden. 'Shit, shit, why did they have to choose today?' The twins are a truckload of mischief. Nice kids, but always getting into some trouble or other. And you'd think Sally would act more like a girl, and talk her brother out of some of the crazier stunts they get up to. But no, it seems like she actually eggs him on, and vies with him for some 'most likely to get in trouble' award. She listens, silent. There is a semi-whispered conversation on the front porch.
g "She's not home, then."
b "Yes she is! I saw her get home. She must be sleeping."
g "Well, we can come back later."
b "I'm not carrying this bag of stuff back up that path, you do it!"
g "Just leave it here then."
b "Nah... animals would eat it."
g "What animals?"
b "You know..... ants.. or someone might steal it."
g "Yeah right. Leave it here."
b "Look, just knock louder. She's home!"

There is a loud, long knocking on the door, then silence.
g "Pretty sound sleeper?"
b "Maybe she doesn't want to answer?"
g "Why not?"
b "Oh _you_ know.... She's sixteen! Bet she does it a lot."
g "So do you."
b "Do not!"
g "Yes you do!"
b "Not. But she's fucking that Greg guy."
g "Yeah, I guess. Unless they just listen to records or something."
b "Oh sure! So he comes over about every day, and they lock themselves in for hours, and it's 'music' huh? Anyway, I saw them!"
g "What! When?"
b "A couple of weeks ago. You were out with mum, and I snuck over. There was a gap in the curtains, and I watched them. She's got great boobs!"
g "Wow! What did they do? Did you see them fucking?"
b "Yeah. Not very well. She sucked his dick too."
g "Why didn't you tell me?"
b "Oh, uh..."
g "You did it didn't you! You jerked off watching I bet."
b "Um. Not saying. But she really was fucking him."
g "Well, he's not here today."
b "So, she's doing it to herself. Betcha!"
g "Why not answer then?"
b "Oh... she's... .um not finished?"
g "Huh! Yeah, in your dreams. You'd like to see that, huh?"
b "Well, wouldn't you? Just cos you're a girl...." A pause. "Uh, maybe. Just a peek."
b "Think she can hear us talking?"
g "Nah, we're whispering silly. Hey, lets go round the back, see if we can see in.
b "Right. I'll just leave these here." The soft voices trail off as they walk around the side of the house.

Jennifer grinds her teeth, praying they don't think to try the door. She twists around as much as she can, and looks at the curtains of her room's window. Thankfully, they appear to be fully closed. At least she got that right. She shudders to think what might happen if the twins were able to see into her room. They'd probably play some horrible joke on her, as if she needed more trouble. Or they'd blab to the whole neighborhood. God! That would be worse than anything! At least her mum will keep it private. 'Unnngh!' as she twists back, the motion sets off a spasm in her sheath, and she barely muffles a groan of desire. Her hips give a few more hard involuntary grinds on the pole, and she finds herself gasping at the wave of heat that washes through her.

The whispering voices can be heard outside her window.
g "Does she always have the curtains pulled tight like that?"
b "I dunno. There was a little gap last time."
g "Maybe this time she was more careful."
b "I _bet_ she's doing it!"
g "Well.... so she'd be waiting till we go then."
b "Yeah. Hey lets go knock some more!"
g "giggle Yeah."

Jennifer thinks at them 'No! Go away! Go _away_!' but of course it has no effect. A few moments later there is another long knocking at the door, and a chorus of giggling. More soft whispering, her straining to hear.
b "I bet she could use one of these big carrots."
g "What... oh! Oh thats nasty! giggle" More knocking.
b "Yeah, but I bet she uses something, maybe I'll just take it in... hey!" There was an ominous sound of a door handle rattling.
g "Is it open?"
b "Yeah! It's open. See! She _must_ be home."
g "Or they went out and forgot to lock it."
b "Maybe.... anyway, we can leave the veggies inside, and lock the door for them. I'll write a note."
g "OK. Lets. I bet she's not really home." The door opens, and someone steps inside, just out of line of sight from her. She is frozen in horror.
b Calling "Jennifer!? Anyone home? We brought some veggies round." More footsteps, and the sound of someone dragging a sack of vegetables over the doorstep. At that moment, Sally walks into view and sees Jennifer. She too freezes, mouth open in amazement. Then she points at Jennifer and squeals
g "Eeek! Alan! Oh my gosh it's Jennifer... Oh what?...." Alan steps into view.
b "Oh wooooooowwwww! Look at her... coooool."
g "Alan, someone must have done this to...." Alan walks closer, and has to read the note.
b "Uh no sis, looks like she did it herself. Cooooollll! And she's completely stuck like that. See this note? Aren't you, Jennifer?" Sally walks in, and also reads the note. She grins, wickedly, and bends down to look closely at where the bedpost enters Jennifer's sex. "Gosh Jen, you really did do this yourself! You are a _naughty_ girl! And she's really turned on too, aren't you Jen? Look at this here, Alan. See how her clit is sticking way out?" "Oohhh maaaan! And her nipples, look at her nipples all hard! He reaches out a finger, and touches one of her nipples tentatively. At the touch, she flinches, and finds her voice.

"Uh, look, Alan, Sally, you'd better just go. My boyfriend will be here any moment, and he'll be really pissed with you if he finds out. Just go, this is none of your business." She cannot help letting her eyes flick to the flashing message light on the answering machine.
g "Yeah, I guess. Alan?" But Alan has stepped back to admire her from a few paces away, and has noticed her attention to the message machine. He walks over and presses play. They listen to the last message, in which Jennifer's fate is made clear. The twins look at each other, then at her.
b "Her mother doesn't get back till 6. She was expecting Greg to untie her.
g "He's not coming till later. So her mum will find her. Like this."
b "I bet your mum will be surprised, Jennifer."
g "Very surprised."
b "But till then.... sis, we can play with her. She can't tell anyone."
g "Oooooh! Thats nasty, Alan. Lets do it!" Alan walks back too her, and cups her unlabelled breast in his hands, kneading it. "Yeah. Jennifer, it seems to us like we can do anything we like to you. Who are you gonna tell? Hey sis, we should get some photos. Has she got a camera here somewhere? Mmmmmmm this is going to be fun!" He is running his hands all over her, down from her breasts, around her luscious arse, over her wide spread thighs, back up into the inverted V of her sex- with its wooden third leg. He clasps her slit, pressing her erect clit, circling on it. She shudders. "I think we should take her off this to play, then put her back on before her mum gets here. What do you think Sally?"

Sally has been rummaging around the room, but has not yet found a camera. She comes back to Jennifer, and takes a pinch of nipple between her thumb and fingers. "Where is your camera, Jennifer?" She squeezes hard, briefly.

Jennifer gasps in pain, too overloaded to argue. "In the second drawer of my desk. Couldn't you please leave me free before mum gets home? Please? I'll do anything, just..."

As she retrieves the camera and checks its film, Sally considers the older girl on the bedpost. "I think you've been a very nasty girl, and deserve to be found out. And we'll do anything we want today anyway. And tomorrow too, cos you wouldn't want _flash_ these pictures _flash_ to get out. Plus, after your mum sees you like this, with that nice note, you won't be spending your afternoons fucking him, and being his 'naughty, masturbating girl-toy.' Here or anywhere." Sally keeps taking more pictures, from all angles, and close ups of her pole-impaled crotch. "Alan, isn't it nasty the way that big fat post spreads her cunt lips out so wide! Does it make you cum, Jennifer? Hmmmmmm.... Hey Alan, I bet it isn't enough! See, that thing sticking out there? Thats her clit -- it gets hard like a dick when a girl is horny. And it's how she cums, too, mostly. See! Her clit's so hard, but she can't touch it! She probably is dying to cum, but hasn't yet."

"Gee sis, so you do it too? Or how'd you know, about all that? Should we make her come? Like this?" He starts to rub her clit between two fingers, quite roughly, as if it was a little prick. Jennifer grunts at the painful mauling, and instinctively tries to draw her hips away. Which of course has absolutely no effect — her sex stays exactly where the wooden pivot of her pelvis pins it. She starts to really appreciate exactly how much trouble she may be in, and gasps urgently "Oh! Ow! Alan no! Oh! Don't! You ooohhhh! _mustn't_! PLEASE! Ohhh! Just go... you should ohhh Ow! go... Owwwww thats too oh! no! NOOOO! OOOHHH! EEEEeek Nooo! Uhhhh eeeeeeeekkk..."

She shudders and struggles wildly, uselessly, as the 14 year old boy rudely pinches and squeezes her clit. He shows no sign of being discouraged by her complaints, and indeed, seems quite fascinated by her antics, and the great effect such a small action can have on her. The bouncing of her full breasts on her heaving chest seems to particularly captivate him.

His sister is also drawn to the sight, curious, feeling mischievous and a strange rising excitement. 'Golly' she thinks, 'Jennifer, 16! and we can do...' She places a palm softly on Jennifer's bum, feeling the sexy teen alternately tensing and relaxing the muscles under that soft padded curve. It is an intoxicating feel. She puts her other hand to Jennifer's other arse cheek, gripping them firmly now, and pushing them a little. She can feel how the hips are constrained to a very small circle of motion by the post, against Jennifer's struggles, and her own gentle shoving. Even her not so gentle pushing and shoving. And suddenly she finds herself gripping the teen firmly by the hips, and rapidly joggling her around, a dark kind of excitement growing in her as she hears the clear undertones of sexual excitement in Jennifer's gasps and shrieks at their rough abuse of her intimate anatomy. Sally decides Jennifer is a total slut, deserving everything she gets, and that this next hour will be a lot of fine, nasty fun. As Jennifer's gasps and cries grow more clearly aroused, she has a wicked idea.

"Wait a minute, brother, slow down there a minute, she's going to cum, can't you tell? Hey! Cut it out, come away, I've an idea." Alan has been going at her slit with a will, his fingers a blur, a big grin on his face as he watches the mix of pain and heat on Jennifer's face. As Sally walks back to the kitchen, she tugs at his arm, beckoning him to follow. Somewhat perplexed, and still drinking in the sight of the nude teen, he follows.

"But I want to see her come. Why not sis?" "Just wait. I've an idea."

Suddenly Jennifer is left alone again. Relieved that the rough mauling of her clit has stopped, but far from reassured. Far from relieved, as well, with the hot burning desire in her sex fanned into fresh flames by the crude but functional stimulation.

Around the corner, Sally is whispering very quietly into Alan's ear. "Listen, how about this — we fool around with her, but we don't let her come! Maybe you don't know, but girls can get really, really horny too. So what about... we see how horny we can make her? It's easy to make her cum, and we can do that some other time, can't we? With the photos, she'll have to do what we say. But today, in an hour, her mum is going to find her like that. How about we make sure she's totally hot and dying for it when her mum gets here, just for extra effect?"

Her brother looks a bit disappointed at this idea. He was just getting used to the idea of making his 16 year old wet-dream neighbour cum. He doesn't know what that will look like, but he knows he wants to. Still, he's no fool. He can see as well as his sister that the future of this new relationship with their neighbour seems very interesting.

"Uh.. Yeah, I can picture that. And I was kinda wondering how we'd get her _back on_ that if we let her off it. So what, we just leave her there, and tease her for an hour? Yeah, I suppose. I wanted to see her cum though. But you're right, some other time — when we can have her do whatever we want. I wish we could watch when her mum walks in."

"Maybe we can! If we pull the curtains back a teeny bit. Without her seeing us do it. Then we hide round back as her mum gets back.... hey, I know how we can cut it really fine... she always gets home right around six. So at ten to six, you go up and hide where you can see her car coming. Whistle when you do, and I quit teasing the slut then. I can judge it finer than you can. We meet around back. OK?"

"Why... uh, oh OK. I guess I'd better not miss the car, hey? Anyway, lets go back. I wanna feel her some more. Hey, I was thinking of smacking her on the bottom, but her mum would see the marks. I guess we'd better not even make any fingernail marks or anything, huh?"

His sister shakes her head, as they re-enter the room. Jennifer is, of course, just as they left her. Right down to the flushed complexion, the panting, and the vividly engorged condition of her glisteningly wet sex. They find her straining upwards, on the tips of her toes, making a strenuous but entirely futile attempt to slip off the post. She freezes for a moment, seeing them watching her. But it is not a pose she can maintain for more than a few seconds, and as her toes protest the strain she is obliged to let herself sink back down onto the wooden post. With a soft moan as it slides deep into her. Then another, more strident moan of frustration, as that penetration sparks her hips into a quick series of fuck-bounces, seeming beyond her ability to suppress.

Alan finds the sight very entertaining. "Yeah, go Jen! Hey, keep that up, it looks great! If you give us a good show, we might let you off there." He walks behind her, beside the bed, out of her sight, and turns the bedside clock away so she cannot see the time. Then comes back and presses himself against her, cupping her breasts, feeling and kneading them in his hands, gripping her nipples. "Come on you horny slut, put on a real show. Fuck that post like it's your lover. Let me feel this arse moving! Ah, damm your tits feel nice. Come on, move it! Come on... Or would you like me to pinch your nipples... like this..."

"Owwwhh! Oh no... please... this is so embarrassing.. don't make me... OUCH! OH! please..."

"No really, we insist, don't we sis?" He goes on twisting her nipples. "Yes Jenny, do it! Or how about I tickle you, hey?" She starts to tickle the teen under her armpits.

"Ooowwww oh hhah ha ha nooooo.. eeeek! OW! OH! eeek!..." Jennifer finds herself both in pain and tickled, at once. "Eeeeeek! Stop! Ohwww! Stop, please, I'll.. OW! OK! OK! Anything... OH!.... "

Sally desists, and steps back to admire the sight, but Alan merely softens his groping and squeezing of Jennifer's tits and rock hard nipples. "Then get going, hot cunt! And don't stop without permission!"

In his pants, his fourteen year old's prick is achingly hard, and straining at the sensation of being massaged against the trapped girl's firm arse. He wishes his sister wasn't there, as he's reluctant to undress while she can see. But this whole scene is so hot... if he doesn't do something soon, he's going to cream in his pants.

Finally, Jennifer seems to admit to herself that resistance is futile, and begins to move herself on the shaft deliberately. At first just a shallow hunching motion, but another warning pinch from Alan soon gets her into a serious up and down fucking effort. With the added friction against his dick nearly setting him off, he steps back, away from her.

"Thats better!" says Sally, as she pulls up a chair to sit and watch. Alan notices she is holding her legs tightly together, rhythmically squeezing them. She glances at him. "Yeah, and whats that in your pants? Of course this turns me on. Actually... oh hell. You just watch her, OK?" She jumps up, steps out of her sneakers, unbuttons her jeans, and with one quick movement slides them down her legs and off. She hesitates, looking at him again. "So don't let me stop you doing it too. No point being shy. And I've seen you doing it before anyway. I peeked. OK?" She hooks fingers into her panties, and slips them off in another quick slide, then sits back down, legs wide and her fingers in her crotch. "I'm going to enjoy this, alright? You do whatever you like." She looks back to Jennifer, and sighs, slumping back in the chair as her fingers get busy.

Alan looks back and forth between the two. Both amazing, both things he'd hardly even dreamed of seeing. His sister, naked from the waist down, her nipples poking up her T shirt on the small bumps of her 14 year old tits, and her fingers sinking in her little slit. Then the much more mature teen's hot body in bondage, now hunching on the bedpost, her face screwed up in concentration and need, panting in time to her exertions, full breasts bouncing wildly. His dick is, frankly, so hard it's killing him. Action is definitely called for here. But what? Just beating off, like sis, doesn't seem like the right thing to do. He considers the possibilities. He's not dumb, and knows that leaving spoof around the place, or up either of Jenny's holes, on this particular day would be a bad idea, forensically speaking. And presumably, his sister is out. He looks at Jennifer again, as she stands, panting open mouthed, clearly becoming absorbed in the pursuit of the big come. He's heard of guys having girls 'suck them off', which is a concept that seems quite attractive, just now. Except for the small geometrical problem — her mouth is up in her head, and she probably can't bend over far, given the post.... He looks around, thinking. And notices her desk — a small study desk, easily pushed.

He smiles, and says "OK Sis, I will. You can take it as part of the show." His shoes and pants are off in a flash, leaving his bone hard dick sticking straight out, and waging as he walks to the desk. Grinning a little as he sees his sister finds the sight distracting enough that she follows it with her eyes. Stacking the books and stuff off the desk onto the floor, he slides it back across the room, till it is standing in front of the post-fucking teen. Both Jennifer and Sally are watching him now, with comically contrasting expressions of trepidation and curiosity. He jumps up to stand on the table.

"Ladies and.... huh. I present to you, The Standing Blowjob!" He steps to the edge of the table next to Jennifer, and sure enough, his rod is on a level with her mouth. Immobile, she stares at it in dawning shock.

"Did I say you could stop fucking the post, Jen?" He winds his fingers of one hand into her hair, and prompts her to resume her whole body up and down bobbing action. "Now, this. Open wide..." When she takes him into her mouth without any resistance, and fastens her lips on him, sucking and stroking the shaft into her mouth, he seems surprised. Then extremely pleased with himself. He glances around at his sister, and seems about to make some comment on her suddenly extra vigorous finger action, when the full sensation seems to strike home. He gasps, a long intake of breath, as he turns back to the head bobbing at his waist. "Uhhhhhhhhh hohhhhhhhh..... Ahhhhhhhhh hoohhhhhhh.... mmmmmmmm oh wow.."

With an expression predominantly of great surprise, he stares down at her, as his hips pick up a counterpoint thrusting rhythm to her bobbing. He makes no further comment, except for a low "huuuummmmmmmmmhhhh" on every breath. It's the most amazing thing he's ever felt. And it's getting better with every stroke. Really good. Really, really good..... He can feel that he's going to spurt soon, but it's a feeling way beyond what he's ever had from his own hand. That tension, growing... fleetingly he thinks that it would be good to go a little slower, but the thought doesn't seem to translate well into action. His body and mind seem to be transforming into some kind of sperm injection machine, and nothing's going to stop it. Not this time. Not now that his hard-wired reflexes seem to have locked on target, for the first time in his life. Something programmed aeons ago is saying 'Female:orifice:penetrated:Go:Go:Go!'

Dimly, he notices a commotion behind him — his sister seems to be having her own meeting with evolutionary race-survival reflexes, judging by the stream of gasps, moans and swear words he's never heard from her before. He manages to look around, without pausing his own fuck thrusting. There is Sally, hips thrust way high in the air, her fingers burried deep in her cunt and working up over her clit then in deep again, eyes slitted and mouth 'O'd in climax. The sight kicks his mind over the edge, and he too is coming — the explosion forcing his seed, pulsing up through the hardness of his cock, and into the sucking mouth of this self-bondage teen queen. For several long, clenching seconds, he holds himself deep in her mouth, hands pressing her head tight against his crotch, oblivious to her muffled choking.

When he does let go and pull back, she coughs and splutters, drawing in a long desperate breath. "Ahhhkkk! Urrhhh! You.... you.... mmmmm..." She struggles to find some way of expressing herself, but as she talks, she becomes aware of the taste in her mouth, from a trace of his spoof that did not go straight down the back of her throat. Her face is an amusing study in mixed outrage, arousal, and surprise, as she considers the taste.

Sally, who has finished her come and laid back for some moments recovering, gets up and helps him move the desk away, so they can stand in front. "I think she likes the taste, Alan. Look at her clit — it's harder than ever. Hey Jennifer, you look surprised, didn't you ever suck Greg off?"

Jennifer, if it's possible, goes an even deeper shade of scarlet, and looks down, silent. Alan crows "Wow, looks like I took her mouth cherry! Did I Jennifer?" He pinches her rigid nipples, twisting. "Did I? You do stuff like this, and you never sucked Greg off?" twisting harder.

"Ohhhh oh! Oh stop... I... uh.. I did do that... Oh! suck him... but never.. ah! never let him come... in my uh oh please stop! ...in my mouth..."

Sally is now standing beside her again, running her hands all over the teen's quivering body, working down to the transfixed crotch. As runs her fingers over the slick, stretched labia, Sally kneels down in front of the sight. She places a finger tip lightly on the rigid little clit, and softly twirls it. "So you are too snooty to drink cum, huh? And what about Greg? Does he suck _you_ off, huh? Does he kiss you here, Jennifer? ...... You'd better tell me, or my brother might just twist your nipples right off! Come on, does he lick you here, and make you cum?"

"Uh! Owww! Oh please don't, I'll tell you... I'll tell... anything just don't hurt me, please... ..... yes, he does."

"There, that was easy. If you do as we say, you can have this...." (Sally gives Jennifer's clit a gentle stroking) "instead of the nipple things. Isn't this much nicer? Do you like this?" She keeps stroking, pressing, as Jennifer looks down at her own defenceless, splayed sex, with the child's fingers working nimbly at her most sensitive flesh. Sally meets the teen's eyes, with an 'I dare you to not answer!' look.

Jennifer has given in — she knows she is completely at their mercy. She stammers, softly — "Y.. yes, that is nicer. I... I do like it." With the admission, her hips begin once again to slowly hump on the post.

"We could make you cum, very easily. We'd like to see you cum, wouldn't we Alan?" He nods, grinning at Jennifer and stroking her breasts. Sally, still looking up into the teen's eyes, reaches out her tongue and runs its tip once, quickly up the length of the spread slit, over Jennifer's aching clit. "Would you like to cum, Jennifer? If you cum _really_ good for us, we might let you off this before your mum gets home, eh?"

"Oh yes! Yes, please... please, anything... do me. Do it... "

"But do you really want to _cum_ Jennifer, or do you just want off of here? How about if we _don't_ let you off, do you still want to cum anyway? Are you horny to cum? We could just leave now. Maybe we should!" She gives the clit an extra strong stroking as she mentions leaving.

Jennifer throws back her head at the surge of stimulation, groaning. "Unnnnnnhhhh... ohhhh please, don't tease me... I uuhhhhhhhh really need to cum, please... just do it to me.. uhhhhhh... oh yeah... oohhhhhh yeah..."

Alan has been reading the note through again, as he plays with her breasts. "Sis, Greg has been round here every afternoon this week, hasn't he?"

"Umm... yes, I think so, why?" She is slowing her stroking of Jennifer's clit to a delicate, bare touch, as the girl shudders, not far from cumming.

"Because, this note... it says she hasn't cum all week... he's teasing her while he's here, but what about other times? Hmmm... just a sec." He dashes out into the kitchen, and into the tiny bathroom that adjoins it. Then out again, and out the front door. Back in seconds more, he spends a moment lugging the sag of vegies back outside, then returns and resumes fondling her breasts, chuckling. "Sis, there are no locks on either the bathroom or outside dunny doors. And see the other door there, that leads into her Mum's bedroom, that used to be a verandah? Thats clear glass, and it doesn't lock either! And the living room, between the kitchen and Mum's room, has no doors at all! Mum might walk into her bedroom through either door without warning, if she walked softly. So Jen here can't do it while her Mum is home! Not even in bed, cos her mum can look in though the glass door. I bet her Mum is a light sleeper too — I know she gets up really early, I see the light in the windows. So Miss Masturbation here can't do it at night, and can't do it in the morning, and can't do it at school since they took the locks off the cubicles. That leaves only after school, till her Mum gets home! Two hours! And her Mum shops daytime, and never goes out on weekends either. And Greg's school is closer, so he can get here before her after school if he wants..... so..... wow! He really has been starving you Jen, huh? What do you think, Sis? I bet she needs it really bad, we really should give her one, before her Mum gets home. She'd not likely to get one after!"

He has moved around behind Jennifer, cupping her breasts and rolling her rock-hard nipples between his fingers. Unseen to her, he winks theatrically to Sally as he mentions 'giving her one'.

"Yes... I guess you're right Alan. She is so naughty, and her Mum should see this rope stuff, but it's her boyfriend thats made her crazy with the need. We should at least give her a cum, so she doesn't have to deal with her Mum while her brains are all mushy with sex. Just.... not yet. This is sooo fun! Gee, she's even put cream or something on herself, she's slippery all over down here!"

"And in here too, feel!" He is running a hand over her rear again, and has slipped his fingers into the spread-legged-open crack of her arse. "Gosh, even..." His fingers have paused at her puckered sphincter, teasing at the quivering opening, testing the smooth-slicked entrance, pressing against the thin flesh separating that closed opening from the wood-post dilated cunt so close to it. "Wow, thats such a contrast, Sis. One hole so stretched, and the other one here so empty.... unless I.... " He slips the tip of his middle finger into her anus, easily overcoming her slicked resistance.

Sally has been carefully teasing the older girl, learning to gauge her shudders and sighs, lifting her up onto crests of excitement, yet always letting her fall short of release. Doing this is giving her a dark, powerful thrill she has never dreamt existed — a red blaze in her mind as well as her belly. She would stop to finger herself off again, only she has found it even more exciting to keep both hands on hapless Jennifer, and she wants to learn to drive the teen absolutely mental with frustration in the time before her mother gets home. Now she pauses, looking round the shuddering hips on the post, to see what Alan is doing. The sight, of the wide open arse crack, oiled and shining between the helplessly clenching globes, with her brother's finger worming and twisting deeper into the tiny ring, close-backed by the wooden post and the tight stretched cunt lips pulling up and down it as the girl struggles.... this sight is somehow even more crudely erotic than the open twat cleft she was driving up front.

"Oh wow, Alan... wow... I think it's finally hitting me... she is ours! Ours! With those pictures... her Mum will make her stop seeing Greg... do you see...? You want to fuck her arse? I bet we can make her do _anything_! For ages and ages.... Mmmm golly that looks kinky! Yeah, stick it right up her... bet you can feel the wood inside her, right?"

"Yeah, Sis, I can... I can run my finger around it, inside her... it feels like it just goes on up inside her forever, I can't feel the top at all. It's all slick inside here too... nothing else... which is good. Hmm.." He looks around the room, and spots the empty shampoo bottle lying on the floor. Pulling his finger out abruptly, he fetches it. Sniffs its neck, and notes that it is still wet, with a little clear water in the bottom. Coming back, he holds it before the shaken teen's face.

"Jennifer, you rinsed yourself out, didn't you?" He holds up his shiny slick, but otherwise clean middle finger. "See! Looks like you did a good job too. Were you expecting something to go up there, maybe? Your boyfriend was going to fuck you up the bum, perhaps? Oh, wait! He didn't know about this little treat you set up. So, you were going to _ask_ him to fuck you up there, is that it? With you still on that, so you couldn't move? Then you even greased it up! Hmmm... well, I'm sure we will all enjoy exploring this thing in future. But right now.... why don't you have a feel up there Sis, while I make sure Mother dear gets the full story."

He takes her desk, and pushes it back to its original position against the wall. He puts most of the things back on the desk, but stacked up at the back, leaving the front bare. Then places the shampoo bottle upright in the centre of the empty area, where it stands out like... an empty, capless shampoo bottle with some water in it. He spots the tube of hand cream on the floor by her bed, and places that next to the bottle. For a moment he contemplates the arrangement, then laughs and begins rummaging through her desk drawers. In a moment he finds what he sought — the long, thin metal can of a feminine deodorant spray. Complete with smooth-curved snap-on plastic cap.

Jennifer has been twisting round to watch him, as best she can while shuddering and jerking with the sensations of Sally simultaneously finger fucking her arsehole and stroking her clit. It is an effort, since all her body wants to do is throw her head back and scream. Seeing him holding up the phallic object triumphantly, rubbing his thumb along the surface, feeling the traces of oil no doubt lingering there from the last time she used it for more than deodorising, she does groan, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back. There seems to be no secret of hers these children will not uncover. For their part, the twins grin at each other, reading her resignation for the admission it is. Sally takes a fold of labia between thumb and finger, and pinching it warningly, asks- "You fuck yourself with that, don't you?"

Jennifer hangs her head, shamed, barely whispering "yes."

"I don't think my brother heard you. Louder! What do you do with that? You tell him _exactly_ what you do with that, you hear? Exactly! And keep the details like where you stick it, when, how long for, the first time, last time, do you come, and so on, flowing until I say to stop. Or I can really hurt you here, like this.." She give a painful pinch.

"OWWoh! but oh, please... ow, that hurt... OW! no! OK! I'll... OW!... I, I fuck myself with it.... yes, I ow! I SHOVE it up my, my cunt... and push it ...ow no... fuck it in and out.. and around... ohhhh yes thats nice, please don't pinch me any more, I'll ow... OK... I fuck it around in my cunt, like it's my boyfriend's cock, banging up me.. I like to put one hand on my belly, and twist it around forwards, so I can feel the end moving inside me with my fingers on my belly... but I can't do that and rub my clit at the same time, so I go back to pushing it up with one hand around back, and rubbing my clit with the other... I almost always use that when I... masturbate.... I..... um.... OW! No, please, I'll tell you... oh! um, and when I do it I... after school, I do it after school, when there's no one, when Greg isn't coming over, and I feel.... you know, sexy Uh! Please! OK, when I feel horny, so I take my clothes of and touch myself on my, my cunny till I'm wet, then I push the spray can in and just sort of work it around... I uh, I like to see how it... just vanishes up inside, and feels so good... It's not very thick, you know? But long enough that I can't make it all go inside, even pushing.... I like to do that, to really push it, and feel my insides... Hmfff! Oh! Please! Can't you just remind me without pinching _so_ hard? And isn't it getting late? Are you going to untie me before Mum gets home?"

Alan, sitting in a chair with a good view of his sister working the older teen, can see the turned clock face. He shakes his head. "No, _plenty_ of time yet. You just keep on with the story. It's 'cunt' by the way, not 'insides'. If you'd keep it interesting, Sally won't have to pinch you. So, where do you feel it?" When Jennifer looks away again, he hand signs to his sister that time is actually getting a bit short. He suddenly has a truly inspirational idea, and decides to begin it immediately. "Tell you what, Jenny. If you really try hard to tell us all the hot details about how you do yourself, a really good, long, sexy story, then we'll not only untie you in time, but sis will make you come first. If you run out of stuff to say, just go through the same stuff again, and try to make it sound even hotter, OK? Think of how much you want to cum, and make it good. Seems like you need it bad, huh? Suppose Greg decides you don't deserve to cum for another week or two? You want to cum now?"

His sister looks at him curiously, but (for once) goes along with the flow. She gives the teen's swollen and pinched labia a long sensuous stroking, and then, hesitantly, leans forward and delicately runs the tip of her tongue up the spread slit, over her aching clit. Jennifer shudders, gasping.

"Ohhhuhhh! Oooooo thats... ummmmm... yes, yes, OK, I'll try... I'll do anything, just _please_ untie me before mum gets back... um. alright... where was I? Oh..... yeah, um when I'm... fucking myself with the can, I like to...... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmohhhh yesss.... to shove it really _deep_ up my... my _cunt_. It's not as fat as this post, which feels so _huge_, but I like it when it's so far up there... up my _twat_ that it hurts a bit.... mmmm feeling my uterus pushed right up deep in my belly.... and I stir it round and round... oh, what?.... what are you...?"

Alan has been gathering a few more items from her bedroom, and has begun to apply them to the standing, nude sex queen. First he has put the earphones of her walkman over her ears, then begun winding a scarf around her head as a blindfold. Which also happens to fix the earphones in place.

"Nothing important, you just keep talking, OK? I'm just going to add a little more spice to the scene here. For a few more photos. Just a quick fool around, nothing that won't come off quickly when it's time to tidy up before your mum gets here. Just ignore me!" As he speaks, he has completed her blindfold, so now she cannot see a thing. Next he takes her small transistor radio, and tunes to an FM band between stations. Adjusting the static hiss to a soft level, he plugs the headphones into it. Speaking loudly for her to hear him over the hiss: "A little bit of noise so we can surprise you. Don't let it stop your story!"

His sister has cottoned on by now, and chips in: "Yeah, he he! I'm really, really looking forward to watching you cum! But only if you tell us everything! If it's not good enough, we'll untie you, but you'll still be dying for it, and then your mum will get home, and it will be another day, or more, of frustration. You'd better start... Oh, and if I stop touching you for a while, I'll just be taking some more pics, or... doing myself. Don't worry, I'll be back onto you in a flash. But whatever you do, keep up the slutty story, we love it! Heh! Looks like my evil brother has another little surprise for you, too. Come on now, get going! Your time starts _now_! Ding!" She delivers Jennifer a sharpish palm slap to the bottom, then returns her fingers to the spread and pilloried vaginal slit, with its protruding clit.

"Ah! Oooooouuhhhhhnnn..... Hmmmmm..... oh, yeah.... I like to shove it inside my cunt, so deep it hurts a little, and feel on my stomach how it is _so_ far up me.. um, it doesn't make me cum, that, but it's so much better when I do cum, if I've got that... something right up, deep inside, and if I push it hard just as I cum, so it hurts a but, it's soooo strong... But I don't try to cum right away... I usually just .... once I get started, sort of go on at it for as long as I can — hours, till I have to quit cos mums coming home soon. .... hmmmmmmm oh, yes, thats.... One thing I sometimes do, is put on a pair of panties, over that can sticking out of my slit.... it would fall out without the panties... and just sort of walk around my room like there's nothing special going on... sort of trying to pretend I'm not feeling it holding my lips, cunt lips open and rubbing, moving in my cunt as I walk. That can feel really nice. I think about how it would feel to put on a pair of tight jeans, and go out somewhere, like the movies. Or school! But it really sticks out too far, it would show. Anyway, when I'm doing that, I like to sort of sit down on my chair, like I've forgotten it's in my cunt there, and go uhhhh! as the chair pushes it hard up me. If I lean back a bit I can sit right down, and then have it force in very slowly but really hard by gradually sitting up straighter. I wish I could make a dildo chair. But I can't, my mum would see it. Ohhhhhhhh..... you naughty girl Sally, you really know how to work my uh...uh clit... ohhhhHHHHHh! yes.... oh more.... ahhhhh.... To make myself cum, I usually lie back on the bed, and just move that can a little as I rub my clit, ummmmm like that... umm....

She continues, sometimes haltingly, sometimes between gasping breaths as Sally works her higher, but with less and less reticence as her excitement grows.

After a few more minutes, with her face flushed rosy and her breathing indicating she is very aroused indeed, Alan introduces her to the 'surprise' he had been preparing. He had found a roll of yellow ribbon, and had tight tied a few turns of it around the base of the hairspray can, tying it off, leaving a meter of ribbon on one side, and the full roll on the other. Then, quickly giving the cylinder a regreasing with hand cream, he kneels to her side, and presses the rounded end against her anus. She gasps, and hesitates in her tale, but then carries on, more breathlessly if anything, her buttocks and thighs flexing helplessly. It slips in easily, going deep. He twists and pistons it in her a few moments, playing with causing her to falter in her masturbatory tale, but Sally wags a finger, signalling that the teen is too close to cumming, and he is risking their plan. So he desists, and simply pushes it in deeply, then uses the ribbon to bind up through her arse cleft and around the pole in her slit, up to and around her waist. He ties it off with a fair attempt at a pretty bow on her stomach.

Stepping back to admire his work, he picks up the camera and snaps off a few more mementos for them. Then winds back the film, and pockets the roll. He goes to put the camera back in the drawer, but finds a new roll of film there, and changes plan again — puts the new film into the camera, and keeps the camera with him. Turning the clock back so his busy sister can see the time, he signs- 'time for lookout duty' and leaves, quietly, leaving the front door open.

It is a few minutes to six pm. With her brother on lookout for the returning mother, the intention is to tease the post-fixed teen Jennifer to a frenzy of sexual heat and frustration, leaving her desperately panting her tale of masturbatory adventures, red faced, swollen-sexed, dripping with juices and begging for relief, blindfolded and ear-muffled, as a homecoming surprise for her poor, tired, and hardworking mother. The twins are like that. Of all the pranks they have pulled over the years, they think this has got to be the coolest, neatest, really sweet little trick of all. And so excellent, that they don't even get the blame — 'she did it to herself, all for her nasty boyfriend, the slut!' Of course, _they_ didn't know anything about it, _they_ just dropped of the sack of vegetables outside the locked door, and went home, of _course_! Stupid of Jennifer to not check he was actually going to come round that day. And she must have worked herself into some kind of sex-frenzy, on the post, and began fantasising about all sorts of disgusting things.... it wasn't _us_, how could anyone believe her after she did this...

All this is going through Sally's mind as she carefully, deliberately works the 16 year old beauty into a state of near-cumming desperation. The sweating teen's story of her solitary sexual inventiveness falters and stutters, broken by panting cries and moans, pleas for mercy, for more, for less, to 'do it, do it' and 'oh stop, oh stop', and such, but never ends. Sally is learning that Jennifer is quite an inventive girl, and is thinking that some of these ideas could bear trying out, on her own. But for now she is watching two clocks — one on her bedside table, counting down to Mom-moment, and the other formed of the heat and signs of Jennifer's need and tensions. With the teen about as high now as Sally dare take her without risking an escape into orgasm, she takes to interspersing moments of complete hands-off absence, in order to lessen the chance Jennifer will notice when Sally does finally exit. She waits for her brother's signal.

Jennifer has been relating her experiments with various forms of vegetables, when Sally hears the soft whistle. Without hesitation, she steps away, carefully, silently, not even a draft to betray her movement. Surveying the room, she curses quietly, and quickly steps over and pulls back a corner of the curtains. Then flees, as fast as silence, and closing of the front door, allows. She makes it to the bushes behind the house close moments before the mother appears at the top of the garden path, bearing a carton of shopping. Her brother is already there, having raced down among the bushes from the road the moment he signalled the arrival of Ms Taylor's old VW beetle.

It is dusk at this time; dark enough by now to allow for invisible lurking in bushes, and peering in through curtain gaps. So they do. The view, though only usable by one at a time, is fine. There is the beauty, still eagerly juicing her sex on the fat bedpost, in side-on profile to them. They can even hear her descriptive monologue, softly but clear through the glass. They hear the mother at the front door: the box being put down, the jangle of keys, the lock turning, the door opening. Jennifer, white noise cocooned, clearly hears nothing. She seems to be putting on an extra effort to tempt her teasing cum-promiser to resume her ministrations. Her words rise louder, as she pantingly describes a time she inflated a balloon in her cunt, to the maximum capacity she could bear, then tied it off, and clit-whacked herself to an orgasm that made her pass out. There has been silence from the front door front. No doubt her mother is wondering what in hell she is hearing. Normally she announces herself with a cheery 'Hi honey, I'm home!' but today she seems to have been distracted.

Peering through the window, they see her mother appear, silently framed in the doorway to Jennifer's bedroom. Standing, thunderstruck, staring at the sight of her darling daughter, now cast in the unexpected role of filthy mouthed bondage queen sex-crazed teen slut. They had not really thought about what the mother would do. Only that it would all surely be a truly fine display of... something. Shouting, most definitely. Some sort of draconian punishment, likely. Spanking? A beating? Mouth-with-soap (and maybe vagina-with-soap too, for that matter)? Perhaps a parental swooning spell, followed by lengthy and humiliating lecturing? They really didn't have any idea.

Certainly, they were very surprised by what transpired.

Ms Taylor stands motionless for long, long moments. Then silently, wheels about, and apparently brings the shopping carton inside, shutting the front door. She returns, now barefoot, to her daughter's room, and comes carefully close, bending down to read the note dangling from the shuddering, heaving, hard-nippled breast. She stands straight again, frowning, surveying the room, while never glancing away from the naked girl for more than a moment. Clearly intent on that image, but reserved in her reaction to it. Thinking. Looking around again, and this time spotting the blinking answering machine light. She plays the message, but significantly, first turns the sound right down. She comes back, this time kneeling, peering close to the teen's post-formed sex, observing the eager movements of that glistening, tight-curved slit, and it's protruding, crimson-engorged clit, the cum-trigger so obviously eager for action, yet so clearly, definitely not being pulled. She peers around behind her daughter's shapely hips, and examines the makeshift dildo tied in position, up her round-stretched anus. She looks at the handcuffs, holding the girl's wrists behind her back, and the other bonds. Alan takes this opportunity to try taking a couple of photos through the curtain gap, with Jennifer's camera.

Jennifer has returned to the subject of fruit, and its erogenous application. Some of this clearly gives her mother pause, and there are several parental intakes of breath. But oddly, still outwardly no display of anger. Something, some strong emotion, is there. Ms Taylor has taken to breathing quite deeply, and is becoming quite flushed, but still she remains quiet, playing at being an empty house. For one moment, it seems she is about to break the illusion — reaching out a (shaking) hand, as if to touch.... the teen's breast!??? The twins are amazed. What..? But she halts her hand just an inch from the out-thrust nipple, then draws it back. She turns briskly, as if having made up her mind, and walks through to her own bedroom, still silent.

For about a minute, she is out of view. In this time too, Jennifer seems to either be running out of things to say, or starting to suspect something is not going according to the script she was told about. Surely it must be getting close to time, that those dammed twins must untie her?' she seems to be thinking, worriedly. Her movements take on a air of desperate urgency, doing all she can to remind the twins (she thinks) that her clit is still waiting for its promised and much needed reward. As much as she can, she tilts her hips to throw her sex into prominence. It certainly does look very sexy, wanton. She falls silent, perhaps to taunt the twins to some act, anything, just to see if they are still there. She cannot believe they could have left, and left her here, like this.... Perhaps they are just standing around, watching her, doing themselves again? How long has it been, anyway? It seems like a long time?

Her mother re-enters the room, and the twins barely stifle a revealing gasp. She is naked. Carrying a camera and a small carry bag in one hand, the other hand's fingers busily delving at her own cunt as she walks. She readies the camera (two hands) and proceeds to take a whole series of photos of the naked teen. Room shots, close-ups, cunt, arse, face, breasts, handcuffs, the clever rope arrangements, everything. Alan records her at this. That completed, she stands back again and contemplates the girl, while again working at her cunt, and this time nipples, this time very vigorously. There is no doubt about it, this is turning very odd. To the twins, she has always seemed quite an ancient, but now they find that unclothed, she is still a shapely woman. Her breasts are hanging lower than they once must have, but are still large, fully rounded, with strikingly large projecting nipples in dark areoles. She has a slim figure, but with well rounded hips, and only a little bit of paunch above a very fleshy, prominent and entirely hairless mons. Within this is not so much a slit, as a wide open valley, of colourfully engorged and glistening flesh. Currently playing host to several fingers of her hand, slipping in and out deeply, thrusting wide and boldly into the not-so-hidden depths. Petite it isn't, but sexy.... well, it impresses the twins very much. Fortunately Alan retains sufficient composure to capture the tableau for posterity.

Then she begins the next act. She takes the jar of much-used hand creme, and smears an ample amount into the recesses of her so very ample sex. Next, she really surprises them. She steps over the other post at the foot of the bed, and tiptoes her loins up over its tip. Then lowers herself with impulsive determination onto it, promptly swallowing a good length of the wooden intruder with hardly a sigh. Facing the still oblivious Jennifer, she spreads her legs to match the daughter's spread. Then a bit more. And another bit. Even Alan, concentrating on immortalising the moment on film, is awe-struck at just how much of the post is now hidden from view. Doesn't this woman have a stomach? Lungs? In reality it's not that far, but it looks like a lot. Ms Taylor stands there, moving her hips in small circling motions, seeming to explore the limits of movement now possible. She has a 'fuck me, thats colossal' expression, crossed with a plain 'fuck me, fuck me' rounded open mouthed silent 'Ahhh!' She sets her hands back to their work at the coal face of nipples, slit and clit. Clearly not in a mood to muck around, or take her time, she goes at them with a will. And with a good deal of solid humping and thrusting up and down on the post too, which Jennifer cannot fail to feel through the shaking bed frame and her cuntal post input socket. She is becoming bewildered, on top of the excitement she cannot avoid feeling as the post shudders and shakes in the long pent-up fires of her belly. She can tell it's coming though the bed, and has force behind it. She wonders aloud "Greg? Greg is that you? Come on Greg, quit it, mum will be home any moment! ....?... Greg? Please Greg, get me off this! Really, it's not ooooohhhh fuuunny! ...... Greg! ..... Ohhhh please, whoever that is... this is making me feel.... ohhhh..... please, uh, uh..... " She gives up on pleading, and just gasps and pants as the bed jolts her core.

Meanwhile mummy dearest has progressed to frantic fucking down on the post, hands a-blur in her sex. It's obvious that she is deliberately whacking the bed about as much as she can, for its effect on her daughter post-comrade. Through screwed up, slitted eyes, she watches the girl; going _jerk_ with her much heavier body on the post, and delighting in the teen's helpless tossing about and moaning as the impact transmits to her lighter hips, more sensitive sex. The bed is actually being moved gradually across the floor, so rough is her mother's passion.

Jennifer seems to have been booted back up into the orgasm-denied desperation, for as her gasping becomes deeper and more sexual, as she loses conscious awareness of what she is saying, she starts to groan "ohhhuuh! Ohhhhh please.. pleuuuueuuuss! Uuuughhhhhh I need to coooome.... PLease cummmmm I want to cum ohhhhhHH! OOOOhhhhh... God I need to cum please make me uuuhhhh cum, let me.... cummmmm OH!... .cum.... must..... cum.... "

Her mother's expression seems to become more ecstatic at this, if anything. Then suddenly the older woman is cumming herself. She throws back her head in a silent, gritted teeth grimace, and her hips lock down hard on the post, driving an even more astonishing length of it inside. She clutches at her twat, straining, shuddering. Motionless. Seconds tick by, and a camera shutter ticks again outside the window. Then a slow massage of her slit and labia, hard pressed. A long, shuddering intake of breath. A straightening up, and a running of hands down over the full breasts, belly and thighs. Another sigh, relaxing, and then Ms Taylor gingerly lifts herself up off the post. She takes a small handtowel from her little bag, and wipes down the post she just abused, then wipes her own crotch. Picks up her bag and camera, and pads softly back to her own room, features an odd mix of satiation and eagerness. She leaves the teen once more on the unreachable verge of relief, glancing at her devouringly in passing. A most unmotherly look.

Sally whispers to Alan "Wow! What the fuck was that all about? Is she even more kinky than Jenny, or what?"

"Shit a brick! What's she going to do _next_ I wonder? What do you think, will these pictures come out? If they do... fucking A! Did you see her twat? Shaved! And so fucking huge! Want to stick your arm up it? Well, maybe these pictures say you can! Shit, mothers aren't supposed to do that sort of stuff with their kids, are they? Damm, my dicks as hard as a rock again."

"Yeah, and I had to shove my hankie into my jeans, or dad's going to wonder about the wet spot. Better be quiet now, she's only in the next room."

They wait in amazement, and have to wait a fair while — at least twenty minutes. During which Jennifer becomes subdued again, no longer trying futilely to fuck herself to orgasm on the post. This time, when Ms Taylor returns, she is fully clothed, in her usual, staid style. She walks over to the girl, and stands, considering the naked, pornographic sight. Then she appears to deliberately don an expression of shocked outrage, and unknots the girl's blindfold, finally tearing it off roughly, along with the headphones. The girl is met with her worst nightmare scenario- her on the post, confronted with an enraged mother. Ms Taylor glares at the girl, silently, arms crossed, back ramrod straight, quivering with, what... rage? When the girl says nothing, only drooping her head and keeping her eyes on the floor, her mother after some minutes reaches out a hand and flicks the corner of the damming note taped to the girl's breast.

"So. No need to try to explain yourself, child. It is abundantly clear. I am speechless! Words fail me. My daughter.... this... this... unspeakable disgusting.... behaviour.... For the moment I cannot think how I should treat you.... you.... _craven_... _SLUT_!"

Another long, fuming pause.

"And you even did this on your _own_ initiative! _You_ though this up! What sort of sick, depraved imagination..... I am _appalled_! Beyond any words, _appalled_!"

Pause.

"I cannot for the life of me imagine how I can continue to share this house with... with... such a..... filthy.... "

"Yet, you are still my own daughter, my responsibility, now, it seems, my deep.... impossible... shame.... a burden.... I must consider what...."

"You shall be punished for this, girl, mark my words! But for now.... I think you should simply stay as you are. You may reflect on your incredible disgusting stupidity.... And we shall see what part Greg has really had in this. Hah! Oh no, my child, no more 'boyfriend' for you, not till I feel you can be... trusted to behave like a... civilised... human... being."

She stoops down, glaring at the impaled teen labia.

"Good GOD! If you have not _ruined_ yourself! I will have to have you to a doctor to check you are not seriously injured, yet how am I to explain to the doctor? Surely no one would _believe_ this.... Hmm, yes, I will have to.... photographs.... God forgive us all.... And what is this ribbon for..?" She makes a show of tracing the ribbon back around Jennifer's hip, and down the crack of her arse, to find....
Last edited by SensoryOverlord on Tue Aug 06, 2024 4:25 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Jennifer's Postal Predicament

Post by SensoryOverlord »

Jennifer's Postal Predicament Ch1 part 3


"Good God in Heaven! I... perversions without end.... you have sodomised yourself with an innocent deodorant spray! How can that even fit...? Is that really the length I think it is?"

She grips the base of the can, and roughly twists it, as if to test if it is really one of those over sized, '50% extra, free!' cans, and not a stubby economy size one. Eventually, after some considerable amount of experimental movement, she seems to be satisfied that it _is_ the extra sized can. She returns to glaring the girl in the face. A girl who is once again breathing deeply in arousal, from the manipulations of her arse and cunt.

"Aroused! I am to find no limits to your depravity, it seems. Your own mother investigates the harm you have done yourself, and you find it _sexually_ _exciting_ do you?! Apparently! Unless these promiscuous organs you so crudely employ in your foul game are also lying. Look at you! You pant like a bitch in heat! Your genitals — swollen, running with ugh! lust, spread open for all to see, and even that most secret part, the centre of woman's intimate delicate pleasure, displayed.... _displayed_! in disgusting engorged prominence by your lewd splay-legged animal pose. Why, if you wish to flaunt it to all the world, perhaps it should also share in your punishment! Yes, _well_ you should cast your eyes down, and gaze at which I speak. This! This... this 'clitoris' I believe is the rude medical term..."

(Here Ms Taylor grips the offending bud between thumb and forefinger.)

"Never have I imagined that any decent woman could so shamelessly expose not only her womanly charms, but her womanly shames! The weakness by which she may be reduced to animalistic lusts and desires! That which should be held private, even from a husband, lest he turn you to a bestial toy for his base instincts. By which he may take away your mind, and replace it with unthinking primitive instinct. Hah! I see disbelief in your eyes! Well I shall show you, young girl, I shall show you the truth of my words. It seems you may already be familiar with those ungovernable lusts, but we shall see. Girl, who is the master of your body? Who? Is it you? Do you direct your corporeal form, or does some other? Answer me."

The girl looks up, confused. As if the fingers still lightly gripping her clit were not enough to addle her mind, now her mother is asking her, what? Philosophy questions? She takes a punt.

"Uh, it's me? I control my body?"

"Only so long as no one else controls _this_" says Ms Taylor, giving the hard little clit a squeeze. "Give this away, and you give away your body. Don't believe me? Then I shall demonstrate. Within a few minutes whoever can touch this, can have you agreeing to anything at all. For instance, I will now proceed to have you agree to any form of punishment I chose for you. Observe."

Here Ms Taylor kneels down in front of Jennifer, and applies her fingertips softly to the girl's swollen and post filled sex. With face only inches from the immovably pegged cunt, and its glistening lips bulging around the thick wooden post, the woman begins a skillful manipulation of the sensitive flesh. She concentrates on Jennifer's stiff clit, stroking and rubbing it in short sharp bursts, but with diversions to the surrounding blood-filled folds. She mostly gazes intently up at Jennifer's face, which is inclined forward to watch the teasing of her so defenseless twat, her mouth a round 'O' of shocked sensory overload.

It takes Jennifer several moments of simply dealing with the sudden blast of intense sensation from her frustrated sex, before it really sinks in -- her mother is masturbating her! Her mother... her so-strict mother is playing her clit like a skilled lover, and she can't even pull away, not even an inch! Ohhh godddd... If it... oh.... does her mother know how close... she ummmm is to cumming? Oh please no, don't let her cum, not to her mother's finger, this is tooooo.... ohhhhh..... She desperately protests-

"Ugh oh mum! Oh please, no... oh mum, I'm _sorry_! But please... I'm... your going to... oh please don't... I'm afraid I.. UUUhhhhh! Oh pleeeease! Mum! I'm too.... close.. don't.... uhhh please don't make me... Oh! I will be good, I promise, but don't... Ohhhhhh I was already... I couldn't help it, Muuum! Nooooo oohhhh! uh, uhhhh.... going to... mum, noo OHHH!.. uhhh...

Ms Taylor, carefully watching the teen's shuddering and pleading, smiles a tight, predatory smile. "I expect you are trying to warn me that you may soon disgrace yourself in a most unladylike display of animalistic orgasm? What, despite your outrageously wicked behavior in setting up this carnal exhibit, and my impression you were previously doing your best to reach that climax, _now_ you don't want it? Is that right, you want me to stop?"

She makes no sign of slacking off her ministrations though. If anything, her fingers move more maddeningly in their slippery nest, as she watches the girl's distressed and reddened face, and Jennifer struggles to reply.

"I... uuuuuuhhhhh really, I'm really uh hhh sorry... sorry.. yes, please stop... just let me off... I'lll be good, I uooohhh oh uhhhhHHHH promise.."

"No" The word is softly said, but final. "There is no point pleading, I have decided you shall be punished, and this is merely a first step, a demonstration if you will. Save your breath. When it is time for you to plead, I will let you know. For now, you will simply contemplate what comes of giving away control of your body."

She continues to tease and rub the super-sensitive bud and flower of the teen's quivering, wet sex. The girl gasps and sighs on, shuddering and twisting her body futilely on the post, for long moments more. Then, as her mother builds her stroking intensity up in concert with a wave of the girl's moaning gasps, Jennifer cries out "Ohhhh Muuum! Ohhhh I'mm... oh no! Ohhhhh yes.. Oh thats, I'm going to... uhhh, oh don't stop... " and throws her head back, her body stretching tightly.

At this point, her mother suddenly withdraws her hands completely from the girl, and sits back on her heels. The teen's rising cries suddenly turn from anticipation to dismay. "Oonnnngh! nnnnngh! Nnnnnoooohhhh! Oh Muuummm!" She flings her head back down to see the worst -- she is left stranded, close to relief but far away, her blood red clit standing rigidly free in thin air, her cunt twisting and bouncing as far as she can on the pole inside her, but it isn't enough. Same as before, it is not enough. All she needed was a few seconds more touch on her clit, and the joy would have been hers; instead she is stuck in high desperation, impaled on a stick, like a sex-popsicle. Burning hot, yet unable to melt. She glares at her mother, too stunned and confused to speak. Wasn't her Mum going to make her cum?

"You probably thought I intended to make you orgasm, didn't you? I don't know why, after all I _did_ say this was the start of your punishment. Do you consider orgasm to be a punishment? But no, if you recall, I have a point to make. And it's this- in just a few minutes, you will be begging me to beat you, to humiliate you, do anything I chose to you, _anything_, if only I will allow you to achieve your precious, _disgusting_ orgasm. Now, I shall continue. All you have to remember, is that I will not allow you to orgasm before you beg me to punish you however I see fit, to treat you as you deserve, to have you do anything I consider appropriate to your behavior. Huh! I should parade you naked down the street for all to see! Like the common whore you are. Certainly you can expect a very different life at home from now on. But you must _plead_ to be humiliated, to be punished, before I will let you release your present lust. And so..."

Softly, carefully, Ms Taylor resumes her tormenting of the juicy, aching cunt. Watching every tremor, catching every indrawn gasp and sigh, she again inches the girl close to the line dividing desperate need from delirious pleasure. And again, halts her just short. Lets her subside a little, then inches her up again.

By the forth cycle, Jennifer is in a very distraught state. She is frantic, gasping in great gulps of air, moaning and crying, her body wracked with involuntary shudders, so strong as to cause pain as her impaled cunt is battered against the solid pole within. She has taken to a repeated chant, "Pleeeese.. please... uhh pleeeese.... " perhaps too far into sexual stupor to even know what she is saying.

Once more squatting back, admiring her work, the mother prompts her "Say 'please do anything and all you will to me', and I shall end this. Or we can just keep on, if you like." She gives the now grossly red-swollen labia another quick flicking of fingertips.

Jennifer has finally lost all resistance. She just has to cum, and now. That is the only thought that can fit in her desperate mind. Her mother's words sink in slowly, aided by the start of another cunt-buildup stroking. She stammers and shudders through the phrase, barely articulate-

"Ohhhhh plllesse.... pleaase do.. any... anything ngggg! All.. you will ohhh ughhhhh to, to to mee eeeeeh! Ohhhmmomyyyy... oh please let...."

Hearing this, her mother stands up, and grips the girl by the jaw, bringing her face close to the teen's sweating, absent-eyed face. "So now you see. In only a few minutes you have agreed to anything, merely because someone rubs your swollen clit a little. It would serve you right had your nasty minded boyfriend chosen to gain this power over you. And I wouldn't blame him either. Expect it, in fact, if he has any gumption, given the way you chose to gift yourself to him. Hmmmm..... perhaps you should be given a taste of what men will do, given an opportunity? Particularly adolescent males, with their ever-urgent need to drain the outpourings of their overactive glands. That if let run wild, would rape a woman over and over, many times a day.... simply pounding their hard member into her for their own relief, without a care for the woman's desires, filling her with their seed till it runs down her legs.... yes, perhaps you should be taught this side of man. Or rather, this length, and thickness, and readiness to exploit any available orifice in search of relief. Or perhaps you are already familiar with such activities, to judge by this object lodged in your rear passage. Yes, I believe this would be most appropriate..... I shall allow him to use you as you seem to desire, and with my encouragement and supervision!"

As she speaks, Ms Taylor has been running her hands over the squirming teen's sweat-streaked body, till now she is gripping the anal spraycan in one hand, and a breast tightly in the other. She is twisting the can in Jennifer's arse, as she kneads the breast. She continues, shifting one hand back to the tied teen's cunt-

"As for your precious cum..... do you still want that? Would mummy's baby like mummy to rub her clit till she explodes? Like this, hmmm, only just a _little_ bit more, hmmmm? Just a liiitle bit..... my, you're so close aren't you? Even just a couple of good hard rubs, that would do it, huh? Well, no. I didn't say I _would_ make you come. Just that I would _not_ until you begged to be treated as the slutty little girl you are. Frankly, I don't think you deserve any such pleasure, and so you shall not have it. Now, I'm going to put dinner on. I'll leave you to contemplate your new situation, and what you look like to your boyfriend and anyone else that walks in this door."

So saying, she walks into her own bedroom, and wheels back a full length mirror, leaving it where Jennifer cannot avoid seeing herself whole -- naked, hair tangled, sweaty, spread-legged, bound, and impaled on her own bedpost. And clearly frantic to cum, yet as clearly unable to move. The note is even still stuck to her boob, or at least until her mother peels off the tape and pockets the note, before leaving the room. She hadn't realized how much her breasts bounced and swung with every move of her torso like this, with her arms locked behind her back. Nor how totally obscene the bedpost looks, so clearly shafting up into her spread wide sex. She gazes in resigned frustration at her clit, so visibly protruding in rigid, colorful need from her open slit. Five days without a cum, and now this... at least Greg will surely prove her mother wrong, and make her cum.....

There are cooking sounds coming from out of sight in the kitchen, and then her mother closes the door to Jennifer's bedroom, leaving her alone with her need. She can hear her mother walking back and forth, from kitchen to her own bedroom, via the lounge room, but has no idea why. Time passes, and the burning of her desire fades, a little. If only she could stop herself from looking in the mirror -- the sight stirs the fires anew when she does. What a sex object she has made of herself! And for her life, she cannot help grinding her pelvis around on the post, watching the wooden shaft slide and press into her needy vagina, then pull the hot flesh out as she rises again. The sight turns her on nearly as much as actually having her clit rubbed!

She hears a knock at the front door, and her mother answering it. Greg's voice, soft-spoken as usual, and her mother's louder. But she cannot make out the words. She expects them to burst into her room at any moment, but instead there is a scraping of chairs, and they seem to sit down at the table, and... talk. Softly. This strikes her as odd -- she would have expected her mum to be really mad at Greg. She begins to think she is really, badly failing to understand what is going on, and somehow, this just reignites the fires in her sex. She feels so helpless, so... about to be fucked, or used. Like some sort of pornographic entertainment -- as she certainly is, she thinks, staring at her mirrored porn-show again.

-----------------------------

Greg has bicycled over, in the early dark, and leaves his bike leaning against a tree half way down the path from the street. He is remembering yesterday's pique with Jennifer, for her obstinate refusal to give him a show of her fucking the bedpost. Like she thought it would hurt her or something. Even though it was obviously slim enough to slip right in, if she just tried. Still, he shouldn't have got annoyed, there's always another day to try it. Pity he had to be late over today, he'd been hoping to make her do it this afternoon. Boy, the thought of how it would look makes him hard just thinking about it, even now as he walks down to the house. Last night he'd had a lot of trouble going to sleep, with the image of Jennifer standing on tiptoe over the post, its tip just pressing into her sexy cunt. It had been a real test of willpower to not jack off with the thought, and his iron hard cock had been a great handicap in the sleep department. But he'd wanted to save it for after the movie tonight. This idea of his to keep her horny by denying her orgasms for a few days seemed to be really working well. She just kept acting hotter and hotter, and he thinks it's definitely worth seeing how she acts after a few more days of the same. He has to adjust his dick before he knocks on the door -- he knew this would happen, and so wore baggy trousers and a neat T-shirt hanging low outside the trousers. It's about the only way to hide his thick 8" cock when it is held tight up against his belly by the elastic of his jocks. Its fat tip actually presses up under the trousers belt, and can peek out if the belt slips a bit low.

He knocks on the door, and after a moment Ms Taylor opens it. Immediately, as they exchange pleasantries, and she says dinner is just about ready, two things strike him as odd. For one, Ms Taylor is wearing her light dressing gown, and perhaps not much else. It is opaque, but fairly thin material. He has only ever before seen her wearing it when he brings Jennifer back from a movie or something quite late. Usually in fact, she wears it to signal that she is displeased with Jennifer and/or him, for staying out too late, and There Will Be Trouble. Also usually, she wears some form of pajama bottoms under it, and with the collar of a pajama top also visible. Tonight, there is no sign of any material creases under the thin, soft cover. He is surprised to find himself standing in the doorway, cock hard and twitching, actually noticing Ms Taylor as a female, and discovering the concept that his dick thinks she might be alright to fuck. Perhaps because in Jennifer's presence, she can't compete, he'd always just thought of her as 'Jen's mum' before. Now he notices that, although she must be over 40, there is quite a nice figure there still. And yes, as she turns from the door, her breasts definitely sway, and bounce back again. She not only is not wearing a bra, but has fairly decent tits as well! For a moment he forgets to step inside, as his eyes drop down her hips (hey, nice!) and meet with the sight of her uncovered legs, from mid thigh down. He doesn't recall ever seeing her legs before, and that's definitely a shame. She even has nice ankles and feet. Which are bare! She is walking barefoot! What is going on here, she never does that?

As he still stands there stupidly, she turns back, and says "Well, come in, and shut the door. Are you going to stand there all night?" He steps in, fumbling the door a little, but thinking 'yes, she sure is acting different tonight.' Normally she is quite chirpy, but now seems... not angry, or sad, but.... serious.

The table is already set -- three places, but where is Jennifer? Her door is closed, have they had an argument? But Ms Taylor pleasantly asks him to take a seat for now, and she wants to have a little talk with him.

'Oh oh' he thinks. Girlfriend's mum wants 'a little talk' with boyfriend. This can't be good. Is Jen pregnant or something? He sits down, serious. His erection is fading fast. She sits down opposite, and dammed if her gown doesn't fall open a bit, showing a great deal of upper breast and cleavage. He tries to keep his eyes on her face. She begins talking, softly, as though she doesn't want someone else to hear. He guesses that would be Jennifer, who must therefore be in the next room.

"Greg, we have something of a situation here, and I'd like you to hear me out, don't go jumping to any conclusions. Let me go through it all first, alright?"

"Uh, Ok Ms Taylor. Is there something wrong? Jennifer is OK?"

"No, no, she's quite, um, healthy. There's nothing for you to worry about. I don't believe you've done anything to be ashamed of, nothing that doesn't um... come ...(cough) naturally for a young man of your age. However, I am quite disappointed in something my daughter has done, and am going to have to take some fairly drastic actions as a result, I'm afraid. Again, don't feel worried that you have done wrong -- I am not upset with you, not at all. But Jennifer.... that girl... <sigh>" She pauses for a long moment, during which Greg is wondering what the hell this could all be about, and what does it mean that she keeps telling him he is not in trouble? He is just wondering if perhaps Ms Taylor caught Jennifer masturbating again, and wouldn't that be a laugh, when she resumes.

"Now Greg, I'm well aware that you and Jennifer have been having sex for some time." (He feels the blood drain from his cheeks. 'Oh shit!') "Oh, don't worry, that is not the issue. Doing it is only natural at your age, I believe, and so long as you are using protection... I am not one of those religious fanatics, who think our behavior is ruled by some so called moral laws written by priests in the middle ages, then pretended to come from the mouth of God. I myself had a few such affairs at that age! Such archaic cultural rules can be quite insensitive -- why, in some societies, the rules would have had her sold off to marriage by her age! But I do believe that there are limits to how one should behave, and certain decorums to maintain. And Jennifer, it seems, has gone well beyond those bounds <cough> and will need a strong dose of corrective discipline."

At 'gone well beyond' Greg thinks 'Yep. She caught Jen wanking again. So much for ignoring religious fanatics, you old hypocrite!' But she continues.

"Quite severe, in fact. And that is where you come in. I have considered the options, and there are several. One would involve me simply forbidding Jennifer from going out with anyone for quite some time, even you. However, I don't favor this, since I know you do like her a lot, and that would cause you to suffer through no fault of your own. I understand how it is to be a young man, and it could take some time to find another girlfriend."

Now Greg is _really_ astonished. Could she be... is she talking about him 'suffering' from losing... sex with Jennifer? Her _mother_ is considering his needs, to regularly pork her daughter? His jaw must have been resting on his chest, because Ms Taylor chuckles and shakes her head at him.

"Oh, you do look so astonished! Yes, I mean I see no reason why you should be deprived of her company and, um, sexual favors, just because _she_ is being punished. In fact... hmmm, how shall I put it? Due to the nature of her transgressions, I feel that some adjustments to your relationship may be in order -- changes that I, as her parent, have the authority over her to enforce. And which I suspect you will find, um.... acceptable."

She is looking at him intently, seriously, but on this point her face breaks into a strange, almost lecherous uneven smile. She half turns, glancing at the kitchen timer, and as she does this and turns back, her robe opening happens to slip back past one of her breasts, and settle there, her full breast completely exposed. He cannot possibly help but notice that her large dark nipple is impressively erect. He could swear she did the thing deliberately, and she certainly makes no move to cover up.

"A few other little changes too, but we'll get to those later. First, we'll have to go over the little problem with Jennifer. <sigh, and a long pause.> She was expecting you over earlier, after school. I'm quite glad you were delayed, since otherwise, heaven knows how far she would have descended. Anyway, I want you to read this note. My charming daughter had taped it to her naked breast, in anticipation of your arrival. Stay calm, I'll explain in a moment."

She hands him _that_ note. It is folded over, and he opens it and reads shakily, this all being a bit much for his fragile teenage composure. He has to read it three times before he can think about it, and by then his dick is uncomfortably rigid at an awkward angle in his pants. He makes to hand the note back, without comment, trying to look adult about all this. She accepts the note, refolds it, and puts it into her gown pocket. During which the other side of her gown falls off her other breast, and she clearly realizes, and does nothing to cover up.

She smiles that lopsided smile at him again, and then sits up straight, her breasts standing out. She gives her shoulders a small shake, setting the twin orbs swaying from side to side.

"Yes, you may look, I don't mind. As for why, I will get to that. But first, let me tell you about Jennifer. You may think that her note is just a naughty promise, a lover's letter. Just that alone, I would have considered unwise of her, but nothing to justify extreme measures. However, the note isn't a promise, it's an _explanation_. A sort of caption to the main picture. And that picture is a sorry product of a deviant, self-degrading over-active imagination. An act of obscenity and abasement that I am very unhappy to find from my daughter. A behavior that can only lead on a downward spiral of debasement, in my opinion. And I'm her mother, so my opinion counts. She has clearly set out to pander to the most base of male fantasies, involving subjugation and enslavement of the female, and by all appearances, it is all from her own warped imagination. Now I know that many people do have odd fantasies at times, even myself. However, as I said, I think there are boundaries which separate fantasy from civilized behavior. Jennifer has gone _well_ past those boundaries. So however much we might all find ourselves... titillated.. to imagine such things, still they are dangerous acts in their closeness to the precipice of barbarism."

She stands up, and to his great disappointment, tightens the loose sash of her gown, which was about to fall open completely. Her breasts are still exposed.

"So now, that I think you may be prepared for the sight, we shall go and visit my daughter. Bear in mind that she did all this herself, in the belief that you would be around at any moment to.... to do whatever you chose, it seems." She steps over and quickly swings open Jennifer's bedroom door, entering and beckoning him in. He paces forward, and sees... the sight.

He nearly faints. There is an instant rush of blood to both his face, and his already spring-hard cock, which has become wedged in a prominent angle as he stood up, and showing even under his loose t-shirt. He steps into the room, awe struck by the ultra-horny looking bondage queen his girlfriend has transformed herself into. She is looking at him, half fearful, half 'fuck-me' smouldering. As his eyes fix on the fat pole embedded so deeply in her cunt, her hips perform an undulatory pole-fucking action, that only emphasizes the tightness of the fit, by dragging her labia in, then out. Judging by the clearly erect clit, and nipples, Jennifer is one hot and horny chick.

He bends down, examining the fastenings she improvised. "These are bits of my climbing gear, Ms Taylor, but I swear I never asked her to do anything like this! God Jennifer, this is really.... " he was going to say 'hot' but something tells him to play along with Ms Taylor, who after all seems to be leading up to something interesting her. So he says ".... really um, extreme! Did you actually think this all up yourself?"

She finds she cannot bring herself to speak, to answer, naked, in front of both her lover and her mother. And why is mum walking around with her robe open, and why are her nipples sticking out? What did those two do in the kitchen?

Ms Taylor shakes her head, and addresses the pair. "Greg, I have already established with Jennifer that she will accept _whatever_ punishments I chose for her, and in general do exactly as I say. Now, I have decided since she wishes to play at submission to the male, she should learn what that truly implies. Accordingly, since this requires that she is _actually_ under the direction of a male, and I feel you are a reasonably level headed young man, I am from this moment granting you the same authority over her as mine. Umm... (here she hesitates, then seems to come to a conclusion that surprises even her) Ummm, in fact, I want her to experience the full, untempered character of male domination, and so... so I actually give you _complete_ control of my daughter. Obviously, it wouldn't stand up in court, so you must be careful what you do, and what you let other people see, but as far as I am concerned, inside these walls, and outside too, you are her master, guardian, lover, owner, whatever. You can do whatever you like to her, without causing actual permanent injury. You can have her do anything you like, and I mean _anything_. At any time. Only she must not have her school studies seriously disrupted. .....Um, but that doesn't exclude using unusual means to _encourage_ her to study....

But before you knock yourself out, I have a couple of other suggestions to make. One, I hope you agree with me that this experience should be a a punishment for her. She has been a very, very naughty girl. For one thing, I don't think she should be allowed to receive very much, if any, sexual pleasure for the duration. It seems from the note that she has already been 'deprived' for a whole five days! Five days! My god there are women who never have an orgasm for five years, and my daughter feels driven to... to this after less than a week! So far, since tying herself up like this, I have still not allowed her relief. In fact, I have deliberately honed her neediness. I suggest that condition be extended indefinitely, if only to put things in perspective for her.

Which brings us to you. I am well aware that you have the typical, strong desires of a teenage male, and no doubt will need frequent sexual congr... oh hell, frequent fucking. Especially since I'm sure this unusual situation will be often on your mind, and we can't have you walking around in public looking like that." She points at his solidly tented pants, with a grin to reassure him.

"Yet, if you are to be able to carefully consider Jeniffer's corrections, and how she is to be managed for her own betterment, it will sometimes be difficult to achieve desired results while at the same time fucking her over and over for your own pleasure. Even if denied orgasm, she would no doubt still derive some pleasure from the act, no matter how it is done.

Also, for you to achieve the full delicacy of control that will be most effective in her correction, I feel you will benefit from some careful instruction from me in the finer points of feminine anatomy and stimulation. Of course, since such instruction must necessarily progress through the full scale of response, including orgasm, and we (hopefully) agree that orgasms are not to be a significant part of her treatment, then you will need someone else to tutor you and on whom to practice such techniques. As well as someone with which you can relieve your own needs at those times when Jennifer's correction prevents your use of her body for this."

Here Ms Taylor stands facing Greg, and unties the sash of her gown, holding it closed still.

"It would definitely be best if we kept this whole thing a secret among just us three, don't you think? So.... I believe that, for my daughter's sake, I am obliged to offer myself as your female anatomy tutor and um... surrogate sexual partner. At least till we judge Jennifer's correction is complete."

At the end of this speech, she rather nervously opens the front of her night gown wide, and slips it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She is completely naked under it. Not just naked, but completely shaved as well. A very fine sort of shaved, naked, too, for her figure is exceptional. Slimly built, yet there are smooth womanly curves everywhere. She is voluptuous, but without any misplaced padding, except a tiny bit perhaps on her belly. As he stares in awe at her, she grins that grin again, and shifts her feet wide apart, much as Jennifer is spread, and thrusts her hips forward. This brings her impressive cunt, with its wide, deep slash between prominent thick labia, into even greater prominence.

"So, think it over. I'm not granting an 'anything goes' deal on this model, but all reasonable offers will be favorably considered. It's an earlier edition, but still goes well. Has been in storage for nearly five years, just building up steam. Definitely needs a good regular pistoning, to avoid regrettable incidents with excess steam."

She glances at Jennifer's bed briefly, shakes her head. Then turns back to Greg. Both he and Jennifer are staring at her, amazed. He staring mostly at her snatch, she at her mum's face.

Nobody speaks for a long time. Greg is too stunned to speak, or act, and just stands, alternately staring at Jennifer and her mother. It's a lot to take in, and he can't help suspecting this offer is some kind of trick, or test, or something. At face value, it's just _too_ good, a wet dream in the flesh. His girlfriend, offered by her mother as a sex slave! And her mother -- he'd not realized she could have looked so good naked, or that she'd.... He can't help looking back and forwards at the two naked, so different twats, comparing. One a new sight, and the other with that pole...

Ms Taylor is thinking that perhaps the boy is feeling a bit too much sympathy for the nasty girl, and maybe isn't taking her offer as seriously as he... as he _must_. Staring at his very well tented pants, she thinks that yes, he _must_ take her offer, for the sake of her daughter's future! Regardless of the wetness she feels in her own sex, and how that poor, generally neglected passage is twitching and swelling at the thought of him using her, still she is doing this not for herself, but as a necessary sacrifice for her little girl. She can't help these animal instinct reactions of her body -- after so many years of abstinence. Looking at the wanton girl, she feels a wave of hot, giddying anger rise up in her, and on impulse decides that more should be done, right now, to ensure this goes as it should.

"Actually Greg, just before you arrived I was about to teach her a good old fashioned lesson. I was looking for a strap to use on her, but we seem to be a bit short of them. Your belt though... that looks about right to redden her bottom a bit. Would you like to do that? We'll have to take her off that for dinner, but it seems appropriate to give her a painful memory of her disgusting action, don't you think? Here, why don't you take those pants off -- I'll help..."

She steps close to him, pressing against him from the side, and works his belt buckle loose, slipping the belt free. She hands it to him to hold, as she kneels down beside him and unzips his fly. "Wouldn't you rather be out of these? This looks very uncomfortable." She bends lower, and undoes his shoe laces. "I think if you are going to do this, if we are going to do this, then to get comfortable with it we should _all_ be naked, don't you think?" She pulls his ankle up, and he obliges, as she slips off one shoe, and that pants leg. Then the other side. His erection is long enough to actually pull the waist elastic of his jocks away from his stomach, and leaning her head forward, she gazes longingly down into the gap at her first sight of his prong. Caressing the taught lines of the cloth pyramid enclosing the religious icon of desire. She looks up at his face, questioning. "Yes? OK? You're not thinking of turning this down, are you?" She begins to inch down the waist band of his underwear, teasingly, her face just inches from his rod. "You really should give her a really good, hard strapping. Get her bottom good and red. We could gag her if she makes too much noise. Don't you want to do that?" She pulls the waistband out and over his cock, letting it sproing free. "Actually, there's no reason to stick to just her bottom. ........ After all, she's been a naughty girl _all over_, hasn't she? ....... Why don't you take off your t-shirt?" She has run his briefs down his legs and off his feet, and now her hands have risen, sliding up his inner thighs to caress his prick and balls. Her last suggestion said in a 'you do it, my hands are full' tone.

Finally, he breaks free of the frozen spell, and decides to go with the flow. He suddenly whips off the t-shirt in a gesture of agreement, only slightly spoilt by his getting the belt buckle caught in the sleeve as he slides the shirt off that final arm. 'Finally!' she thinks, as he stands naked, a really impressive whanger presented at right angles to his stomach and swaying rigidly as he surveys his empoled girlfriend. He shifts to one side, for better aim at her back, and Ms Taylor follows him on her knees, never letting go of his manhood. Thinking what a particularly large, thick 'sacrifice' she will be making in the cause of her daughter's well being.

"My, you are a virile young man! Perhaps that wilful girl of mine has not been completely satisfying you? I expect she can be quite selfish in her demands in this too, as other things? Well, I shall take care of that now. Why don't you just begin with the belt, and you can stop when you are quite done?" So saying, she licks her lips, places them around the end of his dick, and slides it deep into her mouth, sucking and licking as she goes.

He moans in pleasure, looking down at her head, lips buried among the fur at his crotch. She starts long slow strokes, back and forth. He humms again in pleasure, then, head back, is reminded of his duty by the sight of Jeniffer looking appalled at her mother. His mind is suddenly, completely, made up. He draws back his arm, and lets fly.

Nothing fancy, just a firm snap of the belt across both rounded cheeks of her behind. She instinctively tries to jerk away at the sudden flash of pain, but (of course) cannot! The post is her pivot, her sole but inescapable restraint. She only succeeds in causing an echoing flare of sensation in her cunt, to reply to the line of fire on her backside.

She too at last breaks free of her shocked, shaken silence, and cries out. "Ow! Greg, NOO! You can't... this is mad! Don't punish me, please! You know I did it for you, and so whats wrong anyway? Why... why do what she... you can't be... not with my _mother_!... " He strikes her again, same spot. "OWwwwww! Greg, stop it! That _really_ hurts! Not funny... OWWWWWWW! GREG!!! Greeeeeegg..... I thought you loved meeee..... AHhhhoooooWWWWW! Oh please.."

He pauses for a moment, mostly just to enjoy the wash of sensation from his cock in Ms Taylor's apparently very skillful mouth. Looking Jennifer in the eye, he says "Yeah, I do Jennifer. I do love you. But I think.... ahhhhhh.... think your mother is right. This stuff with the ropes... pretty sick." He smiles in a way she knows means he actually thinks it's _great_, the stuff with the ropes. "But you know... what guy wouldn't take this deal? I'm sure it will all work out in the end. In the meantime.... I like this 'do anything' stuff... like it a lot. Sorry. You'll live. And you know what? I think you'll _like_ it. I've known for a while that you get a kick out of being made to do things. So lets see how this goes. And just now, you'll stop that yelling, or I'll do this on your breasts. You want that?"

He gives her a very light warning strap across the breasts, sharp enough to make her catch her breath. She looks down, at the faintly reddening band across her breasts, and shakes her head 'no'. His next shot is back across her rear, and she jerks, clenching her teeth, but holds her cry. She couldn't help noticing, looking down, that her sex and clit are back in fully swollen, open display. _Why_ does this pain in her rear seem to pour fuel on the aching need in her loins? Ohhhhh GOD she needs to come so badly! Arrrggghhh-another! Is he really going to keep doing this until.. until her mum sucks him off?!

To which the answer seems to be, yes indeed. He keeps it up, neither wildly violent, or ineffectually distracted, steadily laying down welt after welt, as he clearly draws closer to spewing into the older woman's busy mouth. Now and then he pauses, engrossed in the feelings, holding her head with both hands as she works his dick. Then resumes on the girl, working the banded welts up her arms and back, and down her thighs. Once she cries out loudly, and he carries out his threat -- laying a real welt over her breasts. She yells and sobs, twisting futilely, and he watches till she is quiet, then resumes on her thighs. She manages to hold her tongue after that, though softly sobbing, with her eyes running tears.

The time comes, when he is taken with tremors, and, gasping, stops his strikes to concentrate on the pleasure of his oral servicing. With thrusting hips, he grips the kneeling mother's head firmly, and jerks himself deep into her. Holding her there as his reservoir clenches long, then spasms, pulsing jets of thick cum deep into her throat.

Finished, he releases her, and she sits back, coughing and clearing her throat, out of breath. She savors the strong, salty taste -- it was something she always loved, Lord forgive her. Greg tosses the belt onto the bed, and steps close to Jennifer, running his hands softly over her. The marks are not so bad as raised welts, more just darker red stripes, on her generally rosy flushed skin. He wipes her tears, teases her stony nipples, then runs his fingers around the edges of her spectacularly aroused cunt.

"I bet you really want to cum now, huh? Even with that post up you, you can't come without diddling this, huh? How very unfortunate for you. I can see that's going to cause you some grief from now on." He carefully feels the state of her clit. "Wow, it's really hard, isn't it? You really didn't cum yet, since last week!? ....... " He waits, expecting a reply. Silence, with her head drooping. "Really, didn't you?" He twists a nipple firmly, demanding.

"Oh! Nooo! No I didn't cum, OK? That's what you wanted, right? You..."

"Sure did! It makes you look _so_ sexy, when it's hard and sticking out like this, all red and wet. I love to look at it like that. And the way you can't think of anything but fucking when you are so hot... I guess this finally proves you can't cum from just something in your cunt. Shame for you, eh? Guess that's the down side on being able to cum over and over like you can. I've had a few other ideas I've wanted to try out for a while, but thought you'd.... you know, think they were too weird, too kinky. Looks like I don't have to worry any more about convincing you to try them out. I'm going to really enjoy this."

He walks around her again, drinking the erotic sight in like wine. It's even starting to make him hard again, just minutes after such a great come! He looks over to Mrs Taylor, who is now standing again, watching him and her daughter. Looks back to Jennifer. He stands in front of Jennifer, and beckons with a finger to Mrs Taylor. She walks over, stands in front of him.

"I'd like you to show me how close you can get her to coming, and how you tell when to stop. After dinner. But first, looks like I'm getting a bit of distraction here." He wags his now fully erect cock with a hand. "Five years, you said? Lets do it on the bed here."

============ END ============
Last edited by SensoryOverlord on Tue Aug 06, 2024 4:45 am, edited 1 time in total.
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drtickle
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Re: Jennifer's Postal Predicament

Post by drtickle »

Gosh, what a jolly good read, thanks! I would have loved a little longer tickling scene, but you can't have it all. Thanks again!
drtickle :mrgreen:
IsaacLascar
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Re: Jennifer's Postal Predicament

Post by IsaacLascar »

All I can say is that this is a damn masterpiece. It's just perfectly written! This is what orgasm denial and pleasure torture must be like. I'm eagerly awaiting the sequel, if one comes along.
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