Chapter 3: New players, New game; Picking up the Pieces and Moving Forward.
The time apart seemed like it moved like a turtle in peanut butter. Finally, however, another glorious weekend dawned where we could be together. This time, I was staying with Jack at his school. Now, a lot of schools were beginning to experiment with coed dorms. Not MY school, and not Jack’s either. But, the recognition that college-age boys and girls would be, well, you know, boys and girls, was certainly taking hold, and so dormitory authorities were often “looking the other way” if you didn’t do something terribly outrageous.
Jack lived in what was called a “suite.” Each suite consisted of five rooms, each room with two guys. There was a shared bathroom at one end of a short hallway, and the other end of the hallway opened on a deck that overlooked a central yard. One of the rooms in Jack’s suite was occupied by the “floor dick,” AKA residence counselor, who was an upper classman recruited to temper the enthusiasm of the younger students. Andy, the floor dick, was a nice guy who I had met previously. He had no problem with me staying in the suite (and, I think, he enjoyed the flash of leg or thigh when I was headed to the bathroom in one of Jack’s T-shirts).
Jack’s roommate, Sylvester (who went by the nickname of Siller, rhymes with Killer, he would always say), was a black guy from New York who was also really sweet. Even better (under the circumstances) he had a girlfriend who lived out in town and he rarely spent a weekend night in the suite. Like Siller, a lot of the other suitemates were away on weekends, and this one was no different.
I drove my little Chevy up to the parking lot at Jack’s dorm and Jack, unsurprisingly, was sitting on the bench outside reading. He unfolded his lanky six-foot frame from the bench and stood up, smiling broadly, when he saw me. He gave me a long, lingering kiss. Curious about his (seemingly) boundless knowledge of heretofore untouched subjects, I asked him what he was reading. He showed me the cover – Nine and a Half Weeks, The Memoir of a Love Affair by an author I hadn’t heard of before.
“What’s that about?” I asked. I didn’t think romances were quite Jack’s thing.
“It’s a memoir of a true sado-masochistic relationship. It’s also a warning of what not to do.”
“Wow,” I responded, not sure of how to react, “are we headed that way?”
“Definitely not.” he replied. “But I thought it useful to be familiar with the pitfalls of such a relationship. I definitely want our relationship to last longer than 9 weeks. A lot longer.”
He then smiled at me again. “It’s so wonderful to see you! That’s a dark story, so I’m happy to put it down. Let’s get your things!”
We grabbed my suitcase and makeup bag and headed into the dorm. I, of course, was wearing a nice blouse, pencil skirt and high heels and therefore felt myself somewhat overdressed. Admittedly, a cute girl in heels and skirt on a mostly-male college campus gets lots of positive feedback. Jack was in jeans, sneakers and T-shirt. We got into his room, after a quick greeting to Andy and one of his other suitemates, and plopped my bags on Siller’s bed and sat on the other. It didn’t take long for us to get horizontal (it had been over two weeks!) and one of the first things that happened was Jack slipped his hand up my skirt. I was bare/bare of course and he grinned.
He quickly moved his face down between my legs and began to kiss and lick that bare pussy. Oh my God my head went back into the pillow and I was just eating it up! (Well he was, technically, but you know what I mean). He went at it slowly, first licking all the way around my outer labia, reveling in the feel of the baby-smooth skin. Then he began to work his way deeper, flicking my clit with his tongue and pulling it into his mouth. This was actually the first time he had gone down on me since before the mock kidnapping, and it was glorious. It didn’t take very long to get my motor running – I had been fantasizing about him all the way up the road.
Pretty soon, the need inside me became overpowering. “Fuck me Jack, please?”
He rose up out of my pussy like…well, I don’t know, like Venus from the seashell? He stripped off his shoes, socks, pants and underwear, pulled off his T-shirt, and prepared to get down to brass tacks.
I suddenly had a thought and said quietly, “Jack, please fuck my ass.” He cocked his head for a moment, like he wasn’t sure if he had heard me right, and I said a little louder, “Your slut wants you to fuck her ass! Fuck my ass! Please!” I got slightly louder with each phrase.
Without saying a word, he went to his closet and pulled out a tube that I supposed was like the lube he had used on me during the kidnapping scene. He quickly lubed up my (still) tight little rosebud and tested it with two fingers, much like the first time. His cock was stiff as a steel rod (but much more pleasant) when he poked my little bum, and he slowly worked his way inside. I wasn’t bound and gagged like I had been the first time, and it was quickly obvious. I was thrashing about on the bed, trying to remember to relax, and my screams got louder by the minute.
His cock went all the way in and he lay down on top of me for a moment, whispering in my ear, “Vanessa, baby, you’re going to make everyone think I’m killing you.”
The sound of the V name got through to me for a moment, and I was able to control the volume a little. “Gag me,” I grunted out, “GAG ME!”
Jack fumbled around on the nearby student desk and came up with one of those squeezable balls guys use for strengthening their hands. He pushed it into my mouth, which I had opened as wide as I could to accept it.
With the gag-ball in (I guess it was technically a ball-gag, but I had higher standards for those now) I quieted down significantly. The rest, as they say, was like (recent) history. When he unloaded into me (I still didn’t know what the cum was hitting inside, I had forgotten to look that up, but ohhhhh, whatever it was it felt glorious), I went berserk. Even the gag-ball was just barely enough. Annnnd then I passed out.
I came to in the usual (pleasant) fashion, with Jack holding me and kissing me deeply (ahem, blowing air into my lungs).
“Wow,” he said when my eyes popped open, “I think you dig doing the chocolate highway.”
“The what??” I asked.
“Anal sex baby, you dig it.”
“Please don’t ever call it the chocolate highway again,” I responded, “that’s just gross.
“But yes, I do dig it. I think I feel about as submissive giving my ass to you as anything we have done together. But I think in the future, if we are doing that within screaming distance of other humans, you need to gag me and tie me up.”
“Consider it done, baby. I think the gagging is a really good idea. I’m not sure you have to be tied up, though.” he replied.
I looked at him shyly and added, “But I liked it when you tied me up…or chained me. I felt so submissive and helpless. I want you to do it again. I want you to gag me, and blindfold me, and tie me, and then fuck me. Fuck my mouth, fuck my pussy, fuck my ass. Whatever you want. I am your slut.”
He sat there in silence for a moment, maybe struck dumb, I didn’t know. Then with a big grin on his face, he replied “You got it babe!”
A few minutes after that, we were dressed again (and my makeup was fixed again) and headed out for dinner. We had to walk across campus (natch) to check Jack’s mail at the Student Union and I got a few good-natured wolf-whistles at my legs and heels.
Just after we hit the mail drop, a voice boomed out, “Hey Jack!” The speaker was a husky 6’2” 200-something-pounder with red hair and a bushy beard, wearing (I swear to God) farmer’s overalls, a T-shirt, and hiking boots. Walking with him was a very pretty delicate-featured brown-haired girl, probably 5’ tall, if that, and slender enough to disappear behind a tree. She was wearing a brightly-patterned sundress and short boots. Talk about Mutt ‘n’ Jeff! It was odd…the speaker was obviously pleased to see Jack but Jack seemed less than thrilled to see him.
Trapped, he finally turned and said, “Jeannie, I’d like you to meet DeeDee and her boyfriend Rick.”
He didn’t further introduce me (he had said my name of course, but custom generally requires…) but there seemed to be no reason not to be polite. I shook DeeDee’s tiny hand and then my hand was engulfed in Rick’s huge paw.
He was one of those guys that liked to show how tough they were by squeezing your knuckles tightly. I didn’t care for the type. Then he said something that rocked my world. “So nice to see you again.”
But it wasn’t what he said, exactly, although the emphasis on the “again” was a clue. It was the way he said it, and the way he looked at me when he said it. He spoke in a low, guttural growl that was all too familiar, and he looked at me with a deliberate leer.
Immediately it all came together for me. The muscular grasp around my throat, the low growling voice, the intense oral assault, the fucking beard around the lips of the man sucking my nipples….it was like I had been slapped on the side of the head by a two-by-four.
I turned towards Jack, the tears already starting. My head must have looked like a battleship turret rotating with my eyes two big guns pointing directly at him.
“You bastard!” I spit out, “You fucking lied to me. You were my first! My only! You betrayed me! You….you…” I sputtered into silence and stomped away, my right hand already beginning to twist the engagement ring from my left.
Behind me, I heard Jack saying to Rick, “You stupid son-of-a-bitch, I hadn’t told her yet!”
The angry words had drawn some attention, and there were several people staring by this time.
I heard footsteps behind me, and felt a hand on my arm. “Don’t touch me! Don’t ever touch me again!” I snarled, but it wasn’t Jack, it was DeeDee. I tried to pull away, but the delicate hands were surprisingly strong.
“Stop for a moment, and just listen. He had to push you, it was time, but he couldn’t do it himself.” She spoke urgently, as if she knew she had only moments to get through to me. “Just think…a man loves you so much, he knows what you need, but he couldn’t bring himself to be as forceful with you as you needed. He had to turn you, but he couldn’t do it by himself. Rick is not as restrained that way, trust me. So Jack used Rick to do what had to be done, and then took over. Couldn’t you tell?”
“Of course I could fucking tell,” I bit out each word angrily, “but Jack told me it was only him, and I believed him! By the way,” another question bubbled up, “how do YOU know so much about it?”
“Who do you think shaved you?” she responded, “One of those clowns? You’d still be in intensive care.” Her response was so matter-of-fact and incongruous that I actually found myself laughing a little. Well, she WAS supposed to be a medical student. I was still furious, but her answer made a little sense.
OK, reader, I know you must be like, “no fucking way, this is it, this is the end, NO relationship could recover from this.”
And I was angry, and felt betrayed, and felt like EVERYONE ELSE knew my business. I was tempted to pull up my skirt and just let EVERYONE ELSE see me, except I was afraid that EVERYONE ELSE already had and they would just laugh.
The engagement ring was actually off my finger and clutched in my right hand now. I was ready to fling it across the floor at Jack.
DeeDee was still standing there. “So has Jack fucked you?” I asked, in a deliberately harsh tone.
“No.” she responded evenly. “That may happen sometime, if Rick wants it, and if Jack agrees, but this whole episode was just to prepare you for the way ahead. To my knowledge, Jack has no particular interest in bedding me, or anyone else for that matter, except you, blondie. All he ever fucking talks about is you. It’s kind of irritating sometimes. Frankly, I don’t think you’re that great of a catch.”
I rounded on her, already as hot as a two-dollar pistol and looking for someplace to unload.
She was grinning at me. “A little anger transference psychology. Worked, didn’t it?” she chuckled, then turned serious again. “Trust me, you will never, ever find anyone who adores you like he does. He may eventually learn to get tough with you, at least out of duty, but he will never enjoy it. Not like Rick.” She sounded wistful. She continued on, “He gave away the most precious thing he had, his exclusive possession of you, to make you see, to make you understand who and what you really are.”
“HIS possession?? What about MY body, MY mouth, MY pussy! What about MY rights?” I shot back.
DeeDee parried calmly, “So all those things you’ve said in the last couple of weeks, about how you would do anything for him, how he “just had to say the word,” calling him “Master,” those were all lies?”
“How did you…but that was after…” It suddenly dawned on me the logic loop I was caught in. Jack had used Rick (and DeeDee) to push me over the edge into what he had intuited I really wanted and needed. But I wasn’t able to admit it to myself until I got pushed over the edge. If he HADN’T pushed me….nope, that way lay madness.
The ring still rested uneasily in my right hand. I turned and looked at Jack. He was sitting on a bench, his head hung low, near where Rick was still standing uncertainly. Jack literally looked like a whipped puppy, like the light had completely gone out in his world. Rick, for his part, looked chastened. I think he realized he had stepped in the doo-doo with me AND Jack.
I turned and walked back over to where Jack was sitting and stood over him for a moment, indecisive. My mind went back not two weeks, but months. Jack had always treated me with the utmost kindness. He had always respected my thoughts and ideas, and had been my partner in some crazy schemes. He had always supported me. He clearly loved me. He loved me so much he was willing to give me up to prove a point.
And it had worked. This ASSHOLE and his crazy, hare-brained scheme had pushed me to where I now wanted to be. I couldn’t go back, and I didn’t want to go forward without this man-child who sat broken in front of me. He was the top, the Dom, the Master, but there was no yin without yang, no light without darkness, no Master without a submissive. I had a key part to play in the story that was to come, and I suddenly decided I didn’t want to miss out.
I reached down and opened his right hand and put the ring in it. He stared at it wordlessly.
“Jack,” I said, “get down on one knee.”
“What?” he replied, as if he hadn’t understood me.
“I said get down on one knee. A gentleman doesn’t sit down to propose to a lady, for God’s sake, so get down on one fucking knee!”
He looked up through eyes bleary with tears, to see if I was mocking him. I wasn’t. I wiped my own tears away and smiled at him, holding out my left hand. He slowly came off the bench and got down on one knee. He looked up at me, hope beginning to shine once more in those dreamy brown eyes that I knew – and loved – so well.
“Jeannie,” he began, “Will you marry me?”
“Not Jeannie.” I corrected. “Vanessa. And the answer is yes.” He slid the ring back onto my finger.
The people who had stopped and stared at the angry outburst now cheered. DeeDee came over and hugged me. Rick made as if he was going to also, but I looked daggers at him and he backed off. He contented himself with congratulating Jack.
I said to DeeDee off to the side, while that frenzy of male backslapping was going on, “Girl, you and I need to talk. I am way behind here and I need to catch up fast!”
She grinned and pressed a piece of paper into my hand. “I’ll talk to you anytime you want. But you’re catching on pretty well for a dumb blonde.”
******
Jack and I never made it out to dinner that night, we grabbed a couple of sandwiches and cokes and headed back to the dorm. We were both a little subdued, and went back into his room without saying much. I think our heads and hearts were both too full and we didn’t know exactly how to get started. A couple of times we did the silly thing where we both started to talk at once. Finally, after the sandwiches were gone and the wrappings were in the trash, we sat and looked at each other.
“Jack,” I finally began, “this is all very strange to me. I’m trying to understand, and adjust. I know I must…and will…learn to obey you, and trust your judgment. Believe me, I realize all too well that it turns me on! But….”and I hesitated… “please don’t ever lie to me. If you make a decision, I get a vote, right? But you make the final decision. If I can’t live with the decision, I say my word, and live with the consequences. I’m still yours.”
Jack looked at me for a long moment, and finally responded, “I made a mistake. I thought you couldn’t handle knowing another man had possessed you. I forgot how strong you are. You probably would have railed and screamed at me that night, and likely we would have gotten through it and been done with it. Instead, I thought lying would calm you down that night, and then I kept trying to think my way around the lie I had told you, and the truth was revealed in the worst possible way.”
Suddenly I came to a decision, one that I hoped would break us out of our painful conundrum.
“Jack, I was horrid to you tonight. In public. I deserve to be punished.”
He looked surprised. “Punished? After I lied…” but I wouldn’t let him finish.
“Yes. You decided I needed to be fucked and whipped by Rick. It was the right decision. It’s brought us closer together. I was wrong to question you. I was wrong to yell at you. I need to be punished!”
I looked around. Although the room normally only housed two guys, they had built it with bunk beds in case of extra people. The end of each bed was like a rack of boards, and the foot board of the top bunk was about the right height.
“Strip me, tie my hands to that foot board, and whip me!”
He was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure whether to believe me or not.
I raised my voice and taunted him, “Do you need to call Rick? He wouldn’t have any problem punishing me. Is that the way it’s going to be? You can’t do what needs to be done so you call him?”
His face got red at that point. Without answering, he roughly pulled off my blouse, unhooked my bra and unzipped and yanked my skirt to the floor. He used a belt from a bathrobe to tie my hands to the foot board. He then proceeded to get a leather belt from a drawer.
He slapped me once, twice with the belt, but his heart still wasn’t in it.
I looked over my shoulder at him. “Does Rick need to come over or will you be a man and do it yourself?”
That stung, as intended, and he laid into me….hard. He whipped me again, and again, not concentrating on my butt as Rick had done, but liberally covering my back with welts. It hurt, and I wailed. I guess he hit me hard about ten or twelve times (was I supposed to count?) and my screams got louder and louder.
He finally stopped, turned me completely around, still hanging by my hands, and kissed me like he was going to take the very life from my mouth. “I love you, Vanessa,” he breathed.
“And I love you, Jack,” I responded with equal fervor, “and now,” I grinned, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
He released my hands and I fell into his arms.
Suddenly there was a pounding at the door and the sound of Andy’s muffled voice. “Jeannie? Are you OK? Jack, what’s going on in there?”
Jack quickly draped a dress shirt around me. I winced as the shirt hit the new welts on my back. He held me as we walked over to the door, grimacing a little with each step, and we opened it…only to be faced with a group of unfriendly-looking young men, led by a grim-faced Andy. Only the torches and pitchforks were missing.
Andy looked at me, then at Jack. “What the hell is going on in there, Jack? Were you beating Jeannie?”
“No, ah, I was helping her practice lines for a play she is trying out for.” he answered, quick on his feet as always.
I followed his lead. “Yes, I’m trying for the lead role in The Taming of the Shrew by Shakespeare. Heard of it?” I couldn’t help adding.
Jack ushered me through the crowd to the bathroom, and they began to disperse, after gawking a little at the garter belt, stockings, and heels I still had on and that were insufficiently covered by Jack’s shirt.
Andy wasn’t quite done. He lowered his voice: “Are you sure you’re all right, Jeannie? You were really making a racket in there!”
“I’m fine, Andy, really, I was just acting! Don’t worry. We’ll find a better place to do our rehearsals so we won’t cause such a disturbance. But thank you, seriously, for your concern.” I could barely keep from laughing…only it hurt when I tried to laugh.
Jack and I made slow, romantic love that night. I was on top for a change, in respect for my freshly beaten back. Jack had done as much as he could to ease my pain, he had soaked a towel in ice water and applied it repeatedly to the welts. Nevertheless, we weren’t in a hurry and had nothing to prove.
I kissed him, long and deep, and then worked my way down his hairy chest, across his tightly muscled belly and then to his proudly rigid cock. I took each of the balls into my mouth and slowly pulled and sucked on them. Then I gently kissed the bobbing member on the head and worked my lips and tongue down the underside, focusing briefly on the sensitive flesh just below the head and then taking his whole length into my mouth. I still wasn’t sure exactly how to voluntarily accomplish the deep throat action that Rick had forced me to do that night (only two weeks ago?) but Jack seemed to enjoy my oral attentions all the same.
I moved back up his body and straddled his cock and teased him a little by brushing the tip with the lips of my naked pussy. Jack sucked and nibbled on my breasts and nipples (well, they were hanging down in his face after all) which he knew turned me on. I slowly lowered myself onto his stiff cock and simply enjoyed the feeling of it sliding up deep inside me. I let him lay there and I fucked him for a change.
As I worked myself up and down I stared straight into his eyes and he stared straight back. I wondered what he saw? I had always wondered – a little – about what he saw in “plain Jeannie.”
What DeeDee had said in the Student Union earlier – that I was no “great catch” – I knew she had said it just to throw me off balance for a moment, but I had heard it before. Not from Jack, of course, but from other girls who had taunted me in high school.
But right now, great catch or not, I felt that I was definitely caught. With Jack’s strong cock thrusting up in me, and his gentle hands and lips on my breasts, I felt speared, hooked, and drawn in. DeeDee’s words came back to me again – I was Jack’s most precious possession. My eyes closed now, focusing solely on those points of contact with Jack, and the orgasm came on me slowly. Slowly, but no less powerful for that.
Later on, we lay facing each other and he stroked my cheek with his finger.
“The Taming of the Shrew, huh?” We both chuckled. “You are so beautiful. And so strong. And smart, too. How did I get so lucky?”
I lay there on my side and looked at him. “It was meant to be. And you had a little help from your friends.” He grimaced at that but I continued. “No, really. DeeDee seems pretty perceptive. She has obviously shared a lot with you, and you with her. And even Rick, Rick threw himself on the grenade you weren’t able to handle at that moment and got us through. And DeeDee saved me from an agonizing death by a thousand cuts.”
He looked at me, startled, “She told you about that?”
l nodded, and continued, “And most importantly, DeeDee explained the facts of life to me in a simple and straightforward way while I was running around tonight with my hair on fire, shooting at anything that moved. You can really thank her for turning me around.”
He grinned at my description. “She is pretty cool.”
I looked at him through half-open eyes and murmured, “I wonder what she’s like in bed.”
Jack looked at me with raised eyebrows but said nothing, figuring that was the safest course.
My eyes opened completely and I looked directly at him. “I’m not accusing. Rick’s had me. It’s only fair that he share DeeDee. And I’m curious. He’s so big and rough, and she’s so tiny and delicate. And they’ve both seen us make love. I wonder what they look like making love? I wonder how you’d look with her?”
Jack’s eyes got huge then and he said, “You move pretty fast. But I haven’t said anything about lusting after DeeDee.” He was silent for several heartbeats. “Maybe it’s you that’s lusting after her?”
I turned the thought around in my head for a moment. I smiled and said nothing. A whole new book was opening, and we had only turned the first couple of pages.
I leaned over and gave Jack another kiss. “I need some sleep, Master. It’s been an emotional day.” I turned around and snuggled my butt up against his crotch in the “spoon” that we both loved so well. He rested an arm over my left shoulder and I winced.
He quickly pulled his arm back and said, “I’m sorry I whipped you so hard.”
I responded, “I know this is going to sound weird, but I’m glad you did it. It had to be done. Did you enjoy it, while you were doing it?” I queried, not sure I what I wanted to hear.
“Not really.” he answered thoughtfully. “But I felt like, if we were to build this relationship in the way we both need it to go, and the way I want it to go, I had to “be a man” and learn to punish my submissive like she needed.”
“That’s how DeeDee said you would feel. I’m sorry I goaded you. I didn’t really mean what I said, you are plenty of “man” for me.” I replied, with genuine relief. My Jack hadn’t changed!
I could feel his smile in the darkness. I snuggled closer, while maintaining a little separation between my sore back and his chest. Soon his breath got more regular, and not long after that, so did mine.
******
The next morning, we awoke slowly, but pretty soon I had to cover myself and head for the bathroom. Jack always came in with me or stayed by the door while I was doing anything private, but we usually just blocked the door open when I was putting on makeup and doing my hair, since that took longer than most guys could stand. The guys in the suite were used to me and generally pretty comfortable around me. There was a certain – difference – in the air that Saturday morning, after what some of them had heard (and seen) the night before. I tried not to let it bother me, I figured it would dissipate when they could see I had really come to no harm.
I stood in front of the mirror to do my makeup. Even before I started, I realized that “plain Jeannie” seemed to be gone. There was a different woman in the mirror this morning. More confident. More desirable. Well-fucked. With a sore back. Maybe a pretty good catch, today.
After the initial ablutions, I ducked back into Jack’s room with a whispered question that would have likely contributed to the suitemates’ weirdness if they could have heard.
“What do you want me to wear today?”
Jack smiled and responded, “Did you bring the workout clothes I mentioned?”
I answered in the affirmative, wondering what new sexual display or experience awaited me.
“We’re going to an aerobics class. Then breakfast.”
“An aerobics class? Why?” I queried. I had never been really athletic in high school and had tried to make up for it in college by playing intramural tennis and soccer, but they were kind of irregular things.
“Because I intend for this to be a long relationship. We’re young and healthy now, and we won’t get any better as we get older. I’ve been reading a lot, and consulting with DeeDee, and I’m convinced that we need to start now, exercising and eating better. In other words,” and he looked directly at me, “we are going to need discipline. You’ll get my special kind,” he added “but we both need to start now taking care of ourselves.”
So, that’s how I found myself in a leotard, tights, and sneakers in a room that was about evenly split between men and women, stretching, jumping, and dancing to the beat of Girls Just Want to Have Fun and Hit Me With Your Best Shot, while trying not to irritate the welts on my back. I got a lot of appraising glances from the guys, and curious ones from the girls in the class.
One girl that was right behind me asked me, during one of the breaks, if my back was OK. She pointed to one very distinct belt-shaped stripe that came up out of the scoop back of the leotard to snake around my left shoulder…probably the very one Jack had rested his hand on last night that had made me flinch.
I thanked her for her concern and told her I was a skydiver and had a hard opening on a jump the previous week. She sounded like she wanted to talk more but I got Jack to hustle me away. I had a friend at my school who actually was a skydiver so I had some basic knowledge, but I wasn’t sure I could keep up that fiction very long!
A quick (healthy) breakfast, back to the room to shower, and then we were in Jack’s car with me in my customary garb, with one new item. The tightness of the bra around my sore back had been excruciating. I had dug around in my bag (I was actually carrying around almost everything I had gotten at Visions in Lace, not knowing what Jack’s next requirement would be) and fished out the bustier. It didn’t have the same tight closure in the back (but still had garters) and so I wore that instead. I hadn’t tried it before, but I liked it, and it helped a little with my current situation.
As I sat down in the car, his hand slid up under my skirt and he rested his right pinky in the folds of my (again) freshly shaven pussy. That was intimate! I began to get wet again, and hoped there would be some stop on the trip to wherever we were going. I asked him how wearing tights and leotards fit into his demand for me to be sexually available all the time.
He glanced over at me and smiled. “Couldn’t be helped today, and there will be more days like that. But I am moving in that direction.”
I tried to draw him out a little more. But Jack was a man on a mission today. We drove for nearly an hour in the direction of our hometown, finally pulling into a shopping mall I had never visited. He turned towards me and spoke.
“We’re going shoe-shopping.”
Yay! I thought. I was afraid my poor brown heels were needing a break. But he had more to say.
“You’re going to be trying on shoes. Most of the people fitting you are likely to be men, although there may be women as well. You are not going to be excessively modest, Vanessa. I don’t expect you to deliberately flash these guys, but if they see something, you’re not to freak out. Got it?”
Suddenly I was a little less excited about shoe shopping, but I figured this was another opportunity to adjust to my new status. I remembered the older gentleman I had inadvertently “shown my wares” to on my first day in stockings, and I smiled a little. Jack had said I would get used to it, so I guess this was more practice.
We headed into the mall and made a beeline for a store called Wild Pair that specialized in sexy shoes and boots. As he said, most of the people working in the store were men. However, it so happened that I was helped by one of the two females, a girl about my own age but a little more “buxom,” as is said in polite society. This girl, as the saying goes, had curves in places where other girls didn’t even have places. She had a nametag on that said “Suzy.”
Jack picked out several pairs that he wanted me to try, including a pair of high-heeled low boots. She took note of the fact that Jack made all the choices, although she didn’t noticeably react one way or the other. Jack told me he was going to check out another store, and then he would come back to pick me up in a few minutes, but to stay there until he came back.
It was said in a completely even tone, not like a father would talk to a child, but obviously directive in nature. Once he had walked away, Suzy got down to business, bringing out the shoes Jack had pointed out. In a few minutes of conversation, she had learned that my name was Vanessa, and that the man with me was my fiance’.
She commented that he seemed to really have me under his thumb.
I answered simply, “Well, he does like to keep track of me,” and smiled.
About that time I lifted my leg to try on one of the shoes that she had brought out and I saw her eyes widen as she looked right up my under my skirt along my thigh. I was pretty sure she had seen the garter stockings and probably the bare pussy. She looked up and saw I was looking at her.
I didn’t mean to embarrass her, and I thought she might blush and look away, but instead she held my gaze for just a little bit longer than normal and continued fitting the black ankle-strap platform heel that she held in her hand. The platform was about a half-inch thick and the skinny heel was at least five inches, but what made them special (and even sexier) was the ankle strap that closed with a gold buckle.
She wrapped the strap around my ankle, buckled it, and gently ran her hand up the back of my stocking-clad calf to the hollow behind my knee – as if by accident.
OK, dear reader. I know what you’re thinking. This is a sex story, right? So every fucking encounter that the newly-minted “Vanessa” has must involve sex, right? But it doesn’t actually happen that way in the “real” world. That’s probably true, and a valid criticism. But, as I was going to discover, there was something about being “Vanessa” that other people picked up on. I don’t think it was a smell – maybe an aura? But this wasn’t going to be the last time something ordinary turned erotic – or maybe it was just me, and even ordinary things seemed more erotic.
But nothing more was to happen with “Suzy,” erotic or otherwise. At almost that exact moment, the (male) store manager came over and told Suzy to take a lunch break. He told her he would take over with me. She got up with what seemed to be obvious reluctance, and, with a lingering backward glance, swayed her hips into the back room. The manager, who’s name was (of course) Rick, continued where Suzy left off.
Rick, however, was the model of decorum and efficiency. He could have been fitting me in front of an audience of priests and nuns and never received even the slightest “harrumph.” If he detected my sexy stocking tops he gave no sign. After the pep talk from Jack in the car, I was almost disappointed!
When Jack came back, my purchases were ready to check out. I quickly modeled for him the aforementioned strappy high-heeled black sandals, a nice pair of black patent pumps with four-inch spike heels, a pair of beige-colored suede pumps, also with skinny four-inch heels, another pair of black pumps, but this time with blocky four-inch heels, and the low boots that came with four-inch medium heels. Jack quickly paid for the items I had accumulated without a word. The amount of the bill was startling to me, but Jack seemed unfazed. He used a credit card to pay; I didn’t even have one at this point, just a checkbook.
Next up was a Merry-Go-Round. No, not the playground item, the cool clothing store. Jack had located a place that sold Rag City Blues zip-around jeans…what he had called drive-in movie pants. These were skin-tight high-waisted denim jeans that had a zipper that ran from the front at the waist through the crotch and to the back. They were amazing! And they obviously supported Jack’s desire to have me readily sexually available. We got a pair in blue and a pair in black. The only problem was, these were a little obvious and would not do as well for a “dressy” situation.
Another quick healthy lunch and we were on the road again. This time, we looked like we were headed back all the way into our hometown. Jack didn’t say much initially, so I Ieaned back in the seat and let my mind (and his hand) wander. We had bought some more shoes, and the zipper pants were going to be interesting. However, I reflected, Jack wanted some things from me that were, shall we say, highly impractical. Winter was approaching, and four- and five-inch heels, skirts and bare pussy were going to be tough to put up with. I was certainly turned on by the concept, but there were some challenges I could see in meeting his accessibility requirements with actual clothing. Jack had seemed to be very well prepared thus far, but I could see we were probably going to need some help finding things.
I raised the question after a little thought. Jack smiled, and said, “Help is on the way. Or, I should say, we are on the way to help.
He looked over at me. “Remember Visions in Lace? And Ms. Krause?”
“Do you mean Marguerite?” I replied.
“Yes indeed. When we were leaving there the other day, she handed me a note. Here, read it.” He reached into the upper pocket of his shirt, and handed me a small, salmon-colored envelope.
I opened it and began to read. It was addressed to “Mr. Jack” which was interesting. But the body of the note was even more eye-opening. “I think I understand something of the nature of your relationship with the beautiful miss Vanessa. If you are in need of specific tailoring for her, or have other uncommon requirements, please consider me a source. I have a good deal of experience in these matters, and I am sure I can help you find anything you need.” It was signed, with a flourish, M. Krause, and there was a phone number.
“What do you think she’s talking about? Aside from ‘beautiful miss Vanessa,’ which I love by the way. Specific tailoring? Uncommon requirements? What does she mean?”
“Well, I gave the lovely and mysterious Ms. Krause a call. She didn’t want to go into much detail on the phone, but she clearly understood that “accessibility” was the goal, and so we discussed one or two items that she might prepare as examples of what she was talking about. You probably recall that she measured you about six ways from Sunday when you were there?”
“I did notice that. She did a great job fitting me, so I thought all the measurements were just sort of setting the stage for being able to do that.”
“And they were. But also, she was measuring you for other lingerie items and outerwear. I think some of that is standard with her, but I’m not sure. She may have figured out what was going on and decided to build a little file on you, hoping you would be a repeat customer. I’m happy to say, it looks like she may be right.” Jack said, with evident satisfaction.
“What about ‘uncommon requirements’? What do you think she was talking about there?”
“Let me put it this way – and I’m really guessing some here – but the welts Rick put on your ass were quite visible in the mirror the day you were there. She would have had to have been blind not to notice them, and she is anything but blind. I think she has figured out that we are in a beginning D/s relationship. So, given that, what do you think she might be referring to?”
I thought for a second, well, obviously, “Gags, blindfolds, cuffs, whips, those sorts of things?”
Jack inclined his head. “Also special jewelry, fetish clothing, maybe even clubs or societies. Who knows?”
“Wow, I never thought. I mean, I assume that DeeDee and Rick have a similar relationship to ours,” Jack nodded at this, “but I didn’t realize there might be actual clubs.”
“And, I’m not particularly interested in that.” He replied, “But a frank conversation with someone with real experience might be useful, don’t you think? I mean, we know there are bound to be other couples navigating this path, maybe all with slightly different relationships and preferences, and at least some of the challenges they face are likely similar to ours. We might be able to avoid some relationship pitfalls by doing just a little bit of research together. Look at the dumb moves I’ve already made. I had been talking mostly with DeeDee, and she’s a great resource, but she and Rick are only a little bit further along than we are. And frankly, I’m not sure Rick’s the example I want to follow.”
I shuddered a little. I knew I would face Rick again, Jack might even want me to have sex with him again, but I didn’t want Jack to become Rick.
“So, we’re headed to see Marguerite? And this time, our secrets are to be further unveiled?” I said lightly, although I wasn’t so sure that’s how I felt.
“What do you think about that? Can you be comfortable talking to her?” He asked with genuine concern on his face.
“I believe so. We made a connection when I was there, I think, and she really knows a lot about us already.”
Last night I had been thinking of the new book that was opening before me, and how we had just turned a few pages. Was this a new chapter in our book? Or a whole different story?
-to be continued-
