The inspiration for this is the movie Captain Fantastic. Just watched it, so if you want a physical reference, Keilyr is the inspiration for Chessie. Dead ringer, but with a tan. The Trailer Trash Bo proposed to is pretty close to her molestor, and Gina is what you would get if Anastasia Grey got married, and had a daughter. (Hence the name, because that PAMN would insist she take His name.) Not quite a fanfic. I'd have to be a fan, but about as close as I can get.
Slummer (Gf Pheb Sedu)
I went down to the "Campground." It's like a trailer park, but they have busses, and stuff. Too, and a pond, stuff to do, I don't know. New kids, come in with their families, stay at the "RV Resort." I been to resorts, it's a campground, crossed with a trailer park. I like it, new kids every week, through the summer, and ski season. Then they keep traveling...
"Huh!" I pulled up on the ladder, and climbed out of the water. On the raft, there was this girl, but. She didn't have a swimsuit. Not like naked, just a pair of cutoffs, and a teeshirt. A bra, I saw that, but the teeshirt was like a rag anyway. It had the sleeves ripped off, and a lot of holes in it, but she just kicked back in the sun.
She was very tan, but had tan lines down by her knees, and her legs were really pale. Like she tanned in a dress or something, but what I really saw is, "Hihihn!" I pointed "You're hairy."
She just put her hand up, like a salute, but I saw my shadow. So, I stepped sideways, and put my head over her eyes, to block the sun.
"I don't shave." She nodded. "It's a waste of money, and resources."
"Oh, are you a lesbian?"
"I'm Chessie," She got up, "And no, I'm not a lesbian."
"Oh," why I come to places like the campground. I shrugged, but she was neat. So, I hung out, instead of climbing up to the slide. We had the raft to ourselves for a while. "I am." More bisexual, really.
"Hihin! How old are you, like 12?"
"So?" I shook my head, "You got a problem with lesbians?"
"No, of course not. Huh! Sorry if I offended you." She sat down, on the bar under the slide. "No offense intended, I just never met one, so young."
"Well, how old are you, Jesse'?"
"Seventeen, and it's Chessie, like the Chesapeake?"
"Oh, what kind of name is that?"
"Tribal, not sure what tribe, but it's just Chessie, like the cat on the trains?" I shook my head, "It's a shipping company, I guess. What's your name?"
"Oh, uh." I looked up, grinned, "Summer."
"Nice to meet you, Summer." Sitting down like that, it was easy to shake hands, and keep her eyes in my shadow. "I guess it's a hippy name." She shrugged.
"So, you are a hippy." Explains the hair. I mean, not just on her legs, and armpit but she had braids, and beads in it. Not all of it, but like, on the sides, instead of bangs, to keep it out of her eyes, I guess. "I like your hair." Auburn, and messy, from swiming out here I guess.
"How long's that guy been following you?" She looked up, so I turned to look.
"Oh, just a couple years." I laughed. "That's just my driver."
"You have a driver."
"Well, no. He's actually my mom's driver, but. She sent him to keep an eye on me." And drive me around, of course.
"Well, he's doing that," she laughed, and her boobs bounced. I looked up.
"Sorry,"
"It's all right." She blushed, "Huh! I guess. I'm flattered really, but. I'm not, like. A lesbian, or anything."
"So, what's it like? Being a hippy."
"Well, my mom is, really. My dad died, but she never remarried. Just raised us kids herself, you know, on the Road?"
"Karoak?" I nodded.
"You read it?"
"Yeah, my mom's into Jazz. She's single too. Never married."
"Rich?" I looked back at her driver, smoking a cigarette, talking to some kids.
"She does all right. Says she does better without a man." Psychologically, they just make her a bitch. "She's in investing, you guys have a bus or something?"
"Yeah," she shrugged, "A rig."
"Like a big rig?"
"Well, a tractor trailer, but not like a Peterbuilt. A motorhome, and a trailer for the boys."
"For privacy?"
"Well, so we can have our own space." She nodded, "And enough space, for all of us."
"There's a lot of you."
"I guess, 6 kids." She nodded, "Is above average."
"All with the same dad?"
"Oh no. She's an independant woman, but if you want the whole lineage, it could take a little while."
"No, skip it."
"Well, I guess what it's like is another one of those simple questions that could take a lifetime to answer. It's different."
"You like it?"
"Well, I like the freedom, but it has it's ups and downs."
"Like what?"
"I don't know, my best friends are my family, because we move around a lot."
"How much is a lot?"
"I've lived in 49 states," she shrugged, "Never been to Hawaii."
"Hahaha, yeah. That's a long drive, but Alaska?"
"Well, we spent a summer up there, yeah. Mama says it's good to travel, see the country, meet new people, but sometimes I envy you having roots."
"Oh, I travel a lot too. I mean, we have the summer home here, but I been to Europe, Southeast Asia, Australia, and Africa." I see your 49 states, and raise you 5 continents. "All over America, too."
"So, you are rich."
"Wealthy, I suppose. Mom's an investor, so I get to tag along on business trips."
"I won't hold it against you."
"What?"
"It's not your fault, being born into privilege, but you know what that economic disparity does to most people?" I shook my head, "Well, the top 1% basically horde all the wealth, and make the other 99% lives harder, for your luxury, and comfort."
"Oh," I shrugged, "But I'm not like that."
"Why you hang out here, instead of, wherever?" She nodded, at the water but my driver was just watching. The kids swim toward the raft.
"I can show you." I nodded, "If you want to get out of here."
"Okay." Thump thump. She just took 2 steps, and jumped. Straight over the water, and came up already swimming. So, I followed her, and she waited by the shore when I got there. She's a very fast swimmer. So am I, on the swim team back home, but she left me behind. With a head start, but I Crawled as fast as I could, and she still widened the gap until she stood up, and walked up the beach.
;
Chessie (fG...)
I don't know if she was a lesbian, but when we got back to the shore. Her driver gave her a towel, and she let me use it. I wrung out my shirt first, and patted my bra. "Get the car," she said, and he walked up ahead of us, once I had my shirt back on.
She looked.
"I guess I'm bisexual?" I shrugged, "You mind if I stop by home to change?" I don't mind, she's pretty, and obviously likes my breast. Looks at them enough, and I'm flattered. "I, well. We didn't go out, but there was this one girl." And a few boys, over the years. "Huh! She didn't identify as a lesbian, but she. Asked me if I ever played lesbians."
"Like a kid."
"Well, this was a few years back. You know that I Kissed a Girl song?"
"Katy Perry." She nodded.
"Oh," I shrugged, "That who it is. Hihn! Yeah, well, that was new, this was years back, but you know."
"You kissed a girl."
I nodded, "And I liked it."
"Well," she thought, "I guess that was. A few years ago."
"Yeah, so I was only about. Well, I guess your age."
"And her?"
"She was older."
"How much older?"
"Huh!"
"What?"
"Well, about my age." I smiled.
"That it?"
"What?"
"You just kissed her?"
Walking under some trees, I realized my face stayed hot. And my damp shirt.
"This is us." I opened the door, "You want to come in?"
"Yeah."
"Mama?" ... No answer. Good. I closed the door, "Well, I didn't just kiss her, on the mouth."
I pulled my top off, and unbuttoned my shorts.
"You have a great body."
"Oh yeah?" Rather flattered, in fact. The cold water helped me cool off, and it's hot in the tractor, but. That's not why. I felt hot.
"Huh! Yeah. You're really muscular, too. And you. You're not a cutter, are you?"
I looked down, "Oh! Oh no." I heard about it, "Hahaha! I don't even know, why a girl would do that."
HONK!
I just pulled a hanger, slipped on a dress, and loaded up the pockets.
"We'll be right out!"
I didn't want to do anything, here. "Mama could be back any minute."
[Going out, be back later.
Chessie]
Stuck it on the cork board. Slipped on some sandles.
It's not a limo, but it was like a limo? Not stretched, but it had a wall, and a window he put up behind the front seat. Maybe more like a cab, or a cop car.
"Hey, stop a minute."
She pushed a button. "Hold on." He stopped, but I already had the window down.
"Hey, Bodhi!" He stopped, walking with a couple white girls in swimsuits.
"What's happening?" he ran up.
I grinned, "Going out."
"Swoo!" he whistled between his teeth, "Nice car." I looked back, but Summer finished putting a sun dress on over her bikini, and it's not like he cares about a little nudity.
"I left a note, too." Really just wanted to show off. Wealth, conspicuous wealth, mom would have a fit, and a lecture if she saw me cozying up to the gentry, but as long as somebody's living this way, why can't I enjoy it, once in a while?
"You know him?" I rolled up the window. "Move on." She said to a microphone, in the door. So, we drove off.
"Yah, all my life? That's my brother."
"He's black."
"Half brother." I nodded.
She giggled, "I like his beard." I shrugged. Just looks like Bodhi to me.
"What?"
"You ever seen him naked?"
"Of course, he's my brother."
"Well, I'm an only child, but you're not nudists or anything." He had shorts on!
"Not really, but. You know, it's like bodyhair. Clothes are an artificial construct, like razor blades, and bikini wax. We're not ashamed of our bodies, nudity is natural. All this is artificial." I just dropped my hem, back in my lap.
"I like your dress."
"Thanks."
"Did you make it?"
"My mom did." I nodded.
"Well, it's cool, like a quilt."
"Patchwork, it's like recycled." Actually reused.
"Well, I like it, and your arms." She felt one, "You don't like sleeves."
"In the winter," I blinked, for quite a while, but. The way she felt my arm, and the hairs on my forearm. "Hh!" I blinked, and shivered.
"You look real strong."
She turned, her head sideways. And closed her eyes, so I leaned over, and kissed her. And I liked it, I like boys, but girls kiss different.
"Hh!" She felt my hand, and rubbed it on my leg. Over a seam, in my lap, and moved it down. "Smq!" She sat back. "Huh, you're a great kisser."
"Yeah," lots of practice, "You too." You learn, to make friends when you get to a new place. "Huh, I'm a virgin."
"At 17?"
"Well?" I thought, "Uh! It's difficult, to really get to know anyone. In like the month or two we spend anywhere. My mom gets bored, staying anywhere, so she hitches up the rig, and we move on."
"What's she do for money?"
"You know what a trust fund is?"
"Uh!" she laughed, "Of course? My mom's an investor, we have them. She got a trust fund?"
"Well, Bodhi's father died, in an accident. She tried to sue the company, so they settled instead."
"He was black."
"Yeah, and I don't want to go into details, but some of them, might not look good. So, she threatened them, with some of them."
"She blackmailed them," she giggled.
"Hahah!" I got it, "Yeah, I guess you could say that." Never thought about it that way.
"Well, it must've been a lot of money, to support 6 kids, for how long?"
"10, 15 years?" I nodded.
"So, you're how old?"
"Well, since she got the bus, and started living on the road like this." I had to think, "I must've been about 5, or six."
"And you'or. I mean Bodie's dad. He didn't mind her having other men's kids?"
"They weren't married, she never married. Marriage is another social construct, like clothes, or shaving. It's completely optional, like living in a house. You can live that way, or chose not to."
"Well, we live in an apartment."
"Your summer home."
"Okay, apartments, we have another one in Delaware."
"On the Chesapeake?"
"No, Wilmington, that's on the Delaware." Right, "The Chesapeake's in Maryland, didn't you live there?" One of the continental 48.
"Yeah, but I was young. Haven't actually been back East for quite a while." I looked out, but just at rocks going bye. And dirt, like a cliff, with a road cut up it, to climb out. She lived close, in The Heights, but it was a long walk unless you wanted to climb pretty much straight down, or rapelle. We got to a turn, and switched back, so I could look out over the river. The dam, the pond. They call it something or other pond, another Native American name, I don't know what tribe. "Huh! Nice view."
"Yeah, wait till you see the one from the balcony."
It's, like a resort? A real resort, condos, but probably timeshares, and, well I guess this is one, or just empty when they're away, but close to town. Not gated, but her driver used a card to get in from the garage. The bottom floor, like a beach resort. "Huh!" I hung back, while he went to hit the elivator at the end of the hall. I whispered, 'What's the gun for?'
"Protection, what's the knife for?" Forgot I had it, always do. Except to sleep, or in the shower. I pulled it out the top, of my dress. "It was a gift, from my father." I showed her. "And you know, for cutting stuff?"
"For protection?"
"I guess, we try to avoid violence, instead of picking fights. I never had to use it on anyone, but I could, if I have to."
"Oh, don't mind him." He held the elivator. "He knows about us."
"What about us?"
She laughed, "Not you, and me, mom and I."
"Oh." I blinked, "She's a lesbian too?"
"Bisexual."
"But I'm payed very well for my discression."
"Oh," Good. "And a bodyguard?"
"If necessary, she considers her safety very important."
"Where you in the army?" He has that bearing, even though he doesn't have a military cut, or dress. Casual, I suppose, but I saw his concealed weapon when he pulled out the keycard.
"Navy SEAL." He rolled up his sleeve. Short sleeve shirt, like a jacket, and a tank top. But military tattoo. "Appologies, if that offends you."
"No, actually. I support our troops, it's the corporate sponsored wars I'm against. Since you're Special Forces, I'll assume you can't talk about it." His face fell, "Or PTSD?"
"I saw some action," he nodded, "Why I went into the private sector, instead of the police, or something."
"Well, I'm sorry. And I appreciate, what you did for our country."
"Thank you." He held the door, so we went out. "Honestly, I'm with you. I joined up to see the world, then I got out when I saw more than I liked."
"Maybe we can go shooting some time, while we're here."
"You shoot?"
"I have, competition even. I was on the shooting team, back in Idaho." There was a boy, and I missed him a little. "Huh!" I looked around, while he carried the towel off. And her purse.
"What kind of hippy are you, anyway?"
I laughed, "I'm not, really. My mom is."
"Oh, so you like guns?"
"Yeah, didn't bring any."
"I didn't see any, back home."
"Of course not. We keep them locked up, so the boys don't play with them, and it invites theives." Guns aren't security. Not enough people know that.
"Where in Idaho?"
"Western Idaho, over by Takoma?"
"So, out in the woods."
"Yeah, we live out in the woods, mostly." This is a bit of an exception, but that RV resort. I forget the name, but it was so nice Mama desided to splurge.
"You can kiss me." You could park our rig, side by side in her room. And their penthouse was larger than most houses I've been in.
"Smq, you can kiss me too."
"Not really," she shrugged, "I'm a bottom."
"Like S&M?"
"I guess, you into that?"
"Never tried it." I shook my head, "I'm a virgin?"
"Well, like that, but. Huh!" She sat on the bed, "More like boys and girls. I know, you're probably going to say that gender roles are a social construct." I nodded, agreeing, "But they're based on something. Some girls are, well, for lack of a better word, submissive."
"I'm not dominant."
"You don't have to be, but. I guess receptive is a better word. Huh! I guess English doesn't have the right ones, because this isn't included in the social construct, but. I can't make the moves. So, you're going to have to."
"Okay," I sat down, next to her. Kissed her, on the couch. She has a couch, turns out it's a hideabed, for when she has friends over, or parties, but she has a couch, in her room. It's almost like an apartment, in an apartment. Everything but a kitchen, even her own en suite bathroom. Well, shower, but she has her own.
2 bedrooms, counting her mother's loft, and 3 bathrooms. Her mom has the tub, jakuzzi tub, but I've never been anywhere that has more bathrooms than bedrooms. The third is just a toilet, and sink, for the living room, but it's weird. I like it, but it's different. A different world, I haven't really seen enough of.
Honestly, as much as I liked growing up in tents, cabins, busses, trailers, and motorhomes. I could get used to this. Wealth, luxury.
"Smq," she smiled, and bit her lip. "You can touch me, too."
"Okay." She's young, but then so was I. The first time I kissed a girl, and I liked it. Hate that song, actually. Not a big Katy Perry fan, but, I have to admit, the feeling was there. Except the part about a boyfriend. "Huh!" You know, "I think I might be gay too?"
"Yeah?"
She's young, but not, like a child. She had a little growth, but. "Yeah." I pulled off her sundress.
;
"Summer" (fG DS Mole)
Yeah, she was molested. By an older girl. You know that Katy Perry song? Yeah. That kind of line. They played lesbian, so it's like a game. So, she's like a child molestor.
But I like it.
"Huh!" Got to talk her through it, though. "Can you untye my bikini?"
Doesn't make her a child molestor, at most it teaches you how to touch one one. Another child, adult, boy or girl. That's how i knew, right away, though.
How she touched me.
She nodded, pulled the string on the side first. Across my hip, then her hand went right back to my lap. Right between my legs.
"You can touch me too."
"Okay." All she had to say.
She zoned out. And in, and out, but that's what I need to tell what Kind of molestor. The first, well man. He got up, in the middle of the night, but he wasn't sleepwalking. He found me in bed, touched me, and jerked off on me.
She didn't. I touched her, she wasn't turn on, a girl can tell. So, more like the other one. Another one. I am sexual, but still very much a little girl. Which limits me to molestors, and playing with my friends until i grow up a little more.
He didn't get it up. He didn't try to, but he zoned out, like this, and just touched me. not for pleasure, i like the intimacy, and erotic contact, it feels good, and turns me off, but she can't bring me off. Not like this, I probably could really quick now, but she's not even trying. Thinking about it, she's gone. In a trance. A slave to the desirte for me.
And I love this.
Also. Especially her strong hairy body, and real nice tits. You ever seen a home-made bra before? Me neither. And cutoff shorts. I mean cutoff shorts under cutoff shorts, instead of panties, she's really a lot like a man.
What kind of man? I don't know the names for them, but I'm learning, more and more about her. That's what this is about, she's still a stranger, a fascinating mystery, but I'm still following the clues. She's not molesting me, or thinking about it. I wonder what she is thinking about, but then i have to snap her out of it, and I don't want to.
Not yet, I'm enjoying it to much.
"Huh!" Really knows how to touch a girl, though. For a virgin, not like a boy at all. Hairy, but hairy like a girl. Not a lesbian, a child molestor.
No, I love it. I like different, but there's different, and then there's different. It's not always good, but I haven't found anything not to like about Chessy.
Like her name. She's anti-corporation, but she's named after a logo. Not the mythical Chesapeake monster, I live in Delaware, but that company is gone. They don't even make train cars any more, but like that. She's not, what's the word. Like between a boy and a girl, like David Bowie, but more like this conflicted mashup of boy, and girl. So, you can't even guess, she's a hippy that likes guns. I mean, she likes to shoot, and she knows them. Guessed mom's driver carried a 10mm, whatever that is. .40 caliber, but if you do the math, that's the same thing.
I'm weird, sexually. It's not about what you do to me, and she's learning that she has to do that. What I get off on is who does it to me, and I felt like I was falling in love. Or really, love at first sight. She's just so weird, and conflicted, I don't know.
But I like it!
"Huh! You want to take a shower?"
"With you?" I nodded, "Oh, yeah!"
Rough fingers, calloses I guess, but girl fingers. Thin, and gentle, but strong, and rough, "I was just thinking," she untied my top behind my neck, but I had to pull the bottom one, around my waist. "Hihim!" Like 2 bottoms, or one split in half for my utter lack of boobs. Not much more than swollen nipples, but she likes them. Me too, especially with her rough fingers on them.
"What were you thinking?"
"Oh," shake my head, "You know, the river water?"
"Good idea." She kissed me again. And I melted, again. I want to keep her. I know, I can't, but, I don't want to let her go. I bit my lip, so she stopped.
"What?"
"How long you been here?" She took off her dress.
"Couple days." Shrugged and folded it over a towel rod.
"How long you think you'll be here?"
"A few weeks? Can you untye me?"
She turned around, but her bra is tied in back. Like a bikini, but just straps on top. "Huh! Thanks." Stitched by hand, looks like, and tan arms with a pale body from not wearing sleaves, and living outdoors. She pulled it off. Turned around, and looked down.
I'm sorry, am I staring? Biting my lip, smiling. "Wow."
"What?"
"Really nice."
"My breasts?" She just cupped them.
"Yeah," and that was like love at first sight, too. "Huh! Come here."
She kicked off her sandals, and undershorts, before she joined me.
"You want to kiss them." She didn't ask, but she was right.
"Yeah," all she had to say. "Smq!" Great big nipples, dark in the middle, then getting lighter, and pinker, not like bulls' eyes, but blended. "Mh! Pb!" I grabbed the other one. "Mh! Smq, Spb!"
"Huh!" She rubbed my wet hair. "Yeah." Felt down, I have pubes now. A few, not like her, "Touch me."
All she had to say. I just nodded, my mouth full of nipple, but she has more.
Hairy girl, I love that.
"Huh! Yeah. Finger me."
"Smph?" I looked up. "Inside?" She nodded. "Huh! Wrinse off, so we can go out, and I can see what we're doing."
"Okay," she stepped into the water, and I got out. Grabbed the towels, looking back, but she was reaching up, pulling her auburn hair back so the little beaded braids swung, and the water spattered down from her face onto her beautiful chest.
"Huh!" I bit my lip, and went out to put some towels down. For her to molest me on.
;
Chessie (fG Mole FB)
"Huh!" All right, the floor it is. Real deep carpet, and padding I think. Soft enough, with all the towels down, and I was dripping. "You're really a bottom?" I picked one up.
"Hm?" she looked up. At my face and her lip popped out. "Oh, yeah."
"Well, I'm just confused, cause you like calling the shots." Her leg feels so smooth. "You shave?"
"Not yet." Just not a lot of hair. "Huh! It's not like a personality." She lay back, so my hand could feel up, and down. "I'm not like a sex slave, I just." Stopped at her neck, and felt down, to her tummy. Flat tummy, with a line down the middle, and a cute belly button. "Huh! I just can't do anything, without you saying to."
"Touch me," then, "Hihihn! And kiss my nipples." Mh.
"Because I was molested, too."
"By whom?"
"Well, the first time was one of mom's dates. Huh! Touch me. Down there." So, on the way back, my hand kept going, past her pubes. "Most of them were mom's boyfriends, or girlfriends. How I found out that women do it too, but the first one was a man. Don't stop."
"Sorry." My fingers kept feeling. Like she said, so we could see. "Turn around, the other way." She sat up, and just leaned over. Her legs between us, but then they stretched out, and spread open.
"You're molested too."
"Just kiss me." Down there, I can see her privates better, but, "Mh?" I bit my lip, and rubbed her hear. "Yeah, that's good."
"Mhm?"
"Uh! Hum like that, some more."
"MhmhmhmhmM!"
"Ooh!" I just let my head fall, and hang. Up on my elbow like this, she's too short to kiss her back, but my hair draped over her leg, and her privates. Her little privates, pink on the inside, but they got pinker, and redder, as the blood rushed down from her hot tummy, between her legs. "Smp," my fingertips wet, so they slipped a little easier, to feel in the top, and feel around the wrincles up there.
I was molested.
"Snh?" A drop ran down, the corner of my eye, and soaked into my hair.
I never thought about it that way, but, "Yeah." I bit my lip.
"Hm?"
"You're right, I guess. Huh! I guess, I was, molested."
She said, the first time. She was molested, multiple times, but the first was a man. "Snh?"
I'm crying now, but my hands won't stop. I liked it, I did, but in retrospect.
She took advantage of me. My curiosity, I was curious, but this perspective. Not between her legs, but of age. Being the older girl, with a younger girl, it even feels like. Molesting her?
"Nh?" I fell back, but she climbed on, and her tongue. "Gosh, you're. HhH?" So good at, that. I can't even say it, just, "NHM!" So fast, her bottom and privates, and legs over my chest, disappear when my eyes go shut, but I still see them.
Superimposed, on the memory.
Jasmine, her name was Jasmine, and she. She pushed me down until I couldn't see anything, smell, or taste anything but Her. Smothering, but I liked it. The taste, and all I can feel is her mouth. Her lips, and especially her tongue until I feel something else. Inside, deep inside until it starts quivering, and building.
"Hnnnneah, YEAH Ohhhhhhhhh!"
And the world went away, everything went away except for the greatest pleasure I ever felt. Yes, I am a virgin, but I have, fooled around, and played with myself.
And been molested. I just tried, to touch myself, the way she did.
"Huhuhuhuh!" She did that, to me, also. Not as well, nothing ever felt soo good before, it was incredible.
"Chessie?"
"Mh?"
"Nihihn! Did you pass out?"
"Mh?" I shook my head, "I don't," know, "Think so?"
"You want to go to the playroom?"
"You have a playroom?"
"My mom does."
"You mean."
"Like 50 Shades." She nodded, "Here." She helped me up.
"A dungeon?"
"No, a playroom."
"What's the difference?"
"A dungeon is for torture. Or prison, but a playroom is for play."
"Like playing lesbian?"
"No, so you can molest me."
"I'm not." I stopped. "Hhuh." Blinked.
She bit her lip, and nodded. "You need a minute?"
"No." I'm fine. "Show me this playroom."
;
"Gina." (fG Bond Mole)
"Hm?" She was really out of it, or stuck in her head.
"My real name," I hit the intercom, "Floyd, could you come unlock the playroom?" Converted 3 bedroom.
"Of course." He'd call my mom, to let her know.
"So, you did lie."
"I didn't trust you."
"Now you do?"
"No, but I don't believe you'd harm me." I picked up the panic button.
"What's that?"
"A security measure. If I push this button," the pendant flashed, beeped, and vibrated, "Floyd will come. Armed. You understand?"
She looked scared. Nodded. He hung it around his neck.
"Say it, out loud."
"Yes, I understand."
"Good," I waved, "You can go." He didn't lock it.
She looked around. "So your mom is, a dominatrix?"
"No, she's a bottom, too." I sat down. "Huh! You're going to have to bind me." I lay back, closed my eyes, and sighed. "Hhuhhhh!" Relaxed. "To get me off."
"Like you just did, to to me?"
"It's different for a submissive."
"No, not really." She looked at the ropes, felt one. "I think you just dominated me."
"Really?"
"Well, you helped." She thought, "I know how." Picked up a hank of rope, "To lash, and tie game, but. I never did this before."
"Hihn!" I love that! I know, going way too fast, but, I need this. Now. "How did I dominate you, then?"
"I mean she did." She closed her eyes, "Jasmine, her name was Jasmine."
"You flashed back."
She nodded, "And then, when you're on top of me, I felt like that again. Only I had an orgasm."
"Again?"
She shook her head. "I didn't, the first time."
"Grab the cuffs," I pointed, to the rack of them. "No, the smallest ones." Those are mom's, favorites. "You can tie onto the rings, on the sides?" She turned them over. "Yeah, then use the rope to pull them up, to the hooks." I pointed, up and out.
"What kind of chair is this?"
"A preacher's seat. You see how it's open in the bottom?"
"Yeah."
"It's also adjustable, there's cranks, on the side."
"I see." She looked.
"So, go ahead and set it to a comfortable height, before you pull the cuffs tight."
"A comfortable heigth for what?"
"Whatever you want. Surprise me."
"Oh," she rolled the stool over, sat down so the wheels locked, then cranked me up higher.
"I'm a child molestor?" She looked up.
"Have you ever molested a girl before?"
"No, but. Huh. Now I want to, and before."
"You thought about it?"
"No, I tried not to think about it."
"You looked at girls, little girls, though."
She got up, started pulling the extra rope through the hooks.
"Stop, that's good."
"But it's slack."
"Now, but when you pull the other arm up, that should be about right."
She nodded, dogged it to the cleat right under it. Like a boat, actually sold for small boat fishing peirs, but bolted to the board, attached to the wall, on either side of the preacher seat.
"There?"
"Yeah, that's good." I shimmied around on the seat. Yes, like a toilet seat, a lot like one, right down to the gap in front. Like a men's room seat, but a horse-shoe, designed for sex. Axess, "Now, get my feet." Built into the legs, now suspended off the floor by the ratchet, also bolted to the wall behind me. "Now, the belt." There's a strap, around the middle, just like a belt. A little high, but it's set to hold my mom's hips, so I don't buck out, and dislocate both shoulders.
I turned, pointed my chin. "You see that, footlocker?" She turned, and looked.
"Yeah?"
"That's full of toys."
I probably shouldn't be doing this, so soon, with someone who's never done it before, just realized she's a child molestor, and I just met her, but.
I need it.
Now, right now, I'm starting to tremble, and pull at the cuffs just to feel them. The belt tighten, I can struggle. A lot like this, but I can't get out.
"Which one?"
"Surprise me." I close my eyes, while she turns back to the loops holding them in the top, the sides, the trays folding out like a jewelry box, to cover the big ones, and the harneses in the bottom.
So she doesn't have to blindfold me. Gag me, hood me, collar and beat me like I ached for her to now, but I can feel my pulse. In my crotch now, so full of blood I can feel it beat in my lips, swelling hot, and fat, and pulsing with my heartbeat.
This anticipation just makes it worse. Now, and so much better when I'm released.
"Lube?"
"If you need it, but I prefer your saliva."
"It's more natural."
"And you have to apply it." I smiled.
And then, she kissed me.
;
Ms. Fantastic {fG Bond DS. Diss-Association, she actually snaps right out of it.)
"Wow," this is different, but it demands a lot of focus. It's not like anything I've done before, not that I am what you would call sexually experienced, but the first difference I realized is this requires a lot more focus on what I am doing, than kissing, or. "Huh!" Molesting her, on the floor.
Before this, today, I could relax. Lay back and let nature take it's course. This is different. It's work, I love it. I enjoy it, very much, but it's not Play. Seriously, and the threat of the panic button only distracted me from it a minute.
But, there's that, definitely significant thing. She can push that button for the family SEAL to come, and stop me. Actually, if I had to think of a good analogy, have you ever cleaned a gun? Pay attention, if you do it wrong, it may malfuction when you need it. In defense, improper cleaning, and a mistake putting it back together can compromise your ability to defend yourself.
Literally, and figuratively, life or death. It's exciting, like having the rig to yourself, but knowing my sister, Mama, or one of the boys could come back, and catch me playing with myself whenever I got the chance, or that one time Mama caught me with a vibrator. She never mentioned it, but I should have known she'd be upset.
I looked back, but she just waited, patiently. Spread eagle, arms, and legs, but bent up in front. Wide open, exposed, helpless. I saw her twist, and wave her arms when I tighened the belt, she can move. But she can't break free.
"Huh!"
I took small ones. Toys, no Tools. These are tools, I'm not going to play with her, this is. Bondage. And domination. A vibrator, and a weird wand thing I want to try out, but she's small. So, nothing too big to work in, without taking a long time. I rolled the seat over, and the wheels locked when I sat down.
"Huh! Ready?"
"Oh yes, so ready for you."
"Good," I looked, and damned if she wasn't right! I was, not much younger, a little more developed when I was. "Nh." Don't close your eyes, pay attention. But I started masturbating when I was 9, right after my first time.
But this isn't about me. I know what it feels like, and now, I know what it looks like. When we got in the shower, she was a little breathless, and red, but now she was swollen.
"SLUPH!" And wet. Not dripping, but I can taste it, and. "Snh?" Yeah smell it too!
And that's so exciting! I did this to her, she was so aroused for me, and she tastes so wonderful I just want to stick my tongue as deep as I can inside her.
So, I did.
"SPH!" Licked my lips. And my fingers, and rubbed those in.
"Hhuh!" She just breathed, but she was smiling, and, "Hh!" She tensed, when I felt her clitorus, but did it grow? I just touched it, in her room, but now it was bigger, so the wrinkled skin pulled tighter over it, and "NH!" She hunched, from me slipping it back and forth between my fingers, but she just bit her lip. Eyes closed, wincing when it made her jerk, but she just grunted, didn't say anything.
I almost want her to, talk me through it, tell me what to do, but I don't want the snap her out of it.
I was just there. I don't know, it's hypnotic, you just let everything go away so there's nothing left but your genitals, and whatever's touching them. Nothing but stimulus, sensation building up until it's overwhelming, and crushes you in the most incredible orgasm I ever had.
No, I never had had sex before. Not even close, not even myself remembering Jasmine, but now I had. Now, I have work to do, to repay her for that, so pay attention to what you're doing, and give that to her.
Her nipples.
"Nh, nm!"
"SLP! SLMP!"
"Oh, uh!" Nodding, and grinning, but grunting open mouthed now. "Huh, uh!" Squirming real good on my fingers, but now I'm drooling, and so's she. I don't have to lick my fingers any more, just slip them down to dip it out, she might start dripping if I keep this up, and I can just imagine.
"SNH!" I smell myself, too. Is this vynil? This red plastic upholstry on the stool, I don't know, but it's wet now, I can feel it, sticking to me, and just squirming around on it gives me pleasure back, but just a little for me.
Suck the vibrator first. It's bigger than the wand thing, except the head, which looks big enough to be a vibrator too, but I didn't see anything like a battery, in there, or wires through the rubbery transluscent, stuff it's made of. I'll figure that out, but this is a minivibe.
Mom's a naturist, okay? Survivalist, flavor of the month socialist militant hippy. She probably never had a vibrator, but I had friends that do. Not really all that hard to figure out, but I didn't even test it.
She said surprise her, and she never opened her eyes. She's wet enough, and I can even get a fingertip almost in, could probably finger in her instead of just get it wet again, but then I can't slick it back through her wrincles, and the skin over her clitorus.
She's hard. She has an erection, yes boys, we get them too, it's just not as easy. If she can get harder, well, I'm amazed it got this big already, and by now it feels like a tiny nose. And sensitive, I thought it almost hurt, the first time I touched it, but there's whips in here. Chains, canes, and a paddle with spikes. A lot of weird gizmos I'm a little scared to ask, so maybe it does hurt.
And she likes it.
"OohH!" Squirming on the hard plastic tip, almost pointed, but helps me wiggle it up. With some resistance, not from her, but it's tight, and I'm not in any hurry. It just feels better when it finally breaks free. "HhHhhHN!" The belt goes tight, and she tenses. Actually lifts up off the C shaped seat, and squirms. "NHhhhn!" Pulling hard, but then she relaxes. Settled down with a sigh.
When it pushed through, she sank down, almost an inch, inside her. Past however long the cone head is, but I looked. She was past that, all the way in to where it's just a cylinder.
"You okay?" I just held still.
"Huh!" She opened her eys, and looked down. Smiled, biting her lip, and grinned.
I let go, of her clit. Stopped touching her with those fingers, when she really squirmed on the penetration. The penetrator, a vibrator, but that let me hold the base. Grip it, and twist it, 1 click.
"AhnhnhnhnH!"
"Yeah?" I wiggled it around.
"Nyeah?" Wincing, but grinning, and gasping, and squirming, so I kept screwing it into her. Not straight in, but work it around, with her so tight.
She's right about, that, too. It's a lot easier when you can see what you're doing.
So, pay attention. Especially with her squirming around like that. I have to keep up, and add my own twists, turns, swirls, and so forth to work it ever deeper. Slowly, but a lot more motion around than in, not even pulling any out yet to start fucking her with it.
"Nghnt!" She snorted, when I bottomed out, and pulled back. Not even an inch, but I pushed in to bump it again. Her cervix, is sentitive. I gather from the way she reacts to it, so I don't want to just hold it on, for that much intensity, constantly. Just quick bumps, with a buzz, and back out. Farther and farther each time, but I misjudged the length and it finally slipped out of her.
"Ngah!" She gasped, and panted.
"You all right?" I turned it off, briefly.
She nodded, silently, gulping, and gasping, so I let her catch her breath. Eventually the shallow gasps got deeper, until she could take a whole one. "Let me down."
"Okay," I set it on the floor, same padded cherry red vynil as the seat, and a lot of the other. Furniture? Not sure that's the proper word, but the dock cleats, and hooks made it easy to let her arms down, and she recovered enough to untye them. So, I turned, and started working on her legs. Adjustable, the pipes they're attached to appear to slide up and down with cotter pins to hold them. The whole thing is like that, looks like you could take it apart, and put it back together. To fit just about anyone, but with the cuffs untyed, she had to use her teeth. She left them on, and undid the belt.
"Did you," I didn't notice.
"No, but I'm satisfied. Can you pick me up?"
"Nh? Yeah."
"Take me to the bed." The closest one. "Hold me, just hold me." I lay down, behind her, and just held her. Listened to her breathe, and gently felt her. Arms, body, side, leg, all over. The way I like to, when I just fingered off, or whatever. "Hhuh! This is cooldown, and it's very important."
"Okay." I kissed her shoulder. There's 2, beds. This one in the corner is practically a cot, instead of head, and floor boards, there's bars, bent over either end, obviously that you could cuff to. But she's small, light, little more than a child, but this was different.
"Huh, can we talk?"
"Yeah, I'm ready. Nhihm! Let me turn over." I let her go, so she was facing me, and she kissed me.
"Snh?" The first time, she kissed me, and it was incredible.
"Chessie?"
"Hm?"
"You need a minute?"
"Oh," I blinked, "No, I just. Huh! I just started drifting off there."
"Well, we need to talk. It helps after cooldown, so we can learn from the scene, and potentially do better next time."
"Oh, I want to, but. You just kissed me?"
"Mhm?"
"I thought you couldn't make the moves."
"Oh, I can, hell I can use everything in here, except the stuff we need a dick for, you want me to call Lloyd?"
"No!" I laughed, "No, that's all right. Do I still have to hold you?"
"No, I'm fine."
Sit up, "Huh! I'm just confused. Especially about your, submissiveness?"
"Mhm?" She nodded, "It's not total, absolute. Huh! I'm just paraphilic, I can't get off, without some sort of, bondage at least. That doesn't mean I can't, do all the Active role."
"You can do that, to me?"
"Of course!"
"Well, maybe not that that, but. Now I feel like, I never had sex at all, and I'm just. Overwhelmed by the possibilities, but that was hard!"
"I know, right? It's a lot of work."
"Yeah, I've. Done a lot of things, but that's one of the hardest things I ever tried." I looked up, with my eyes, but didn't raise my head. "Did I do, all right?"
She grinned, "That was amazing, for your first time!" My heart swelled, "Yeah, I think." She stopped, looked up. To remember, "Yeah, actually that as good as I've ever seen, for a first time."
"Well, you're just saying that."
"No, really, that was actually incredibly good. I usually have to talk them through it, a lot more, but. No?" She shook her head, "Did I say, anything?" She tried to remember.
"Not really, I mean since." I thought, "I don't know, about when I went to the toolbox."
"Yeah. That's honestly unbeleiveable. But, it really helps, so much, to put me under."
"So, it is like hypnosis."
"It can be, but that was more like Meditation. Only you helped, with the stimulation. I don't have to think, like that, but you did it right. Exactly right when you started bottoming out. Where did you learn that?"
"Just now? I mean, on myself, before. I." Blushed, looked down, and mumbled. 'borrowed a vibrator. Once."
"From your mom?"
"Oh mama doesn't believe in them. That it's sex, even with someone else using them."
"Vibrators?"
"Sex toys, bondage, any of this really. She's into natural sex, I think that's what she'd call it, you'd have to ask her, but she taught us about sex. And it's always, '2 people' nothing else. Doesn't use birth control, and natural birth too. Sex is a gift, something you do out of love, but almost sacred to her."
"Huh!" she nodded, "So spiritual?"
"As spiritual as she gets, you didn't see any dreamcatchers, or crystals, because she doesn't tolerate magical thinking, but some things, are spiritual for her. Like love, family, home, and freedom."
"I get that."
"You think I'm submissive too?"
"Yeah, I really do."
"Really?"
"Takes one to know one, but how did that, dominating me feel?"
"Like a chore. Sorry, but you want me to be honest?"
"No, you need to be as honest as possible about this. I'm not insulted, that's how it feels to me too."
"That?" I looked over at the preacher's seat?
"No, when I have to do it. Dominate, bind someone, or what little pain and impact play I can do."
"I thought you could do all of it."
"I can, mom trained me."
"When you're 12?"
"No, I was nine."
"But, that's."
She stopped me, "No, because she had to."
"Why?"
"Because she couldn't stop me? I was. Huh! I was starting to, play with my friends. If you don't know what you're doing, you can really hurt someone, some of this is dangerous, especially without any proper equipment. That's what all this is for, so we can do it safely. If she hadn't, I would have had to figure it out myself, with other girls that don't know what they're doing, and whatever we could get our hands on. The wrong rope, in risky places where we could get caught, and I really got hurt, bad a few times trying to do it that way."
"Is that what she told you?"
"No, I had to make her. I even blackmailed her, until she let me. That's what I told her. If I didn't have a safe place to play, then I would keep getting hurt, and maybe even get killed, if it went bad enough."
"Oh."
"But I need it, after what happened to me."
"I'm starting to think I need it too. You'll have to explain to me, how it's dominating if you call all the shots, though."
"It isn't. It's, well not really a lie, but there's not really a better word for it. Topping, or whatever, taking me. I have to be taken, but you don't have to be dominated, exactly. Just the bondage really, we just had sex, with bondage. That's it, but I can submit to that. If it's you, it's not even real important what you do, if it's you. But you did so well, god with a little training, I bet you'll be fantastic!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, one of the secrets is that subs do it best. Top the best, dominate, humiliate, and sexually torture the best. Because doms do it for them. Themselves, they need the control, and sadists have to cause pain. They get off on it, but subs know how it feels, and we do it for you. The bottom. Honestly, it's always better to be topped by a bottom."
"Oh." I got up.
"Where you going?"
"To bed." The big one looks so much more comfortable. I put my hand up, on the bedpost. "You think you can do me?"
She got up, "Yeah," shrugged and nodded.
"Then prove it."
She's wrong, I had no idea what it feels like.
"Here." She gave me the panic button first.
;
Regina (Incidentally, that's latin for Queen.)
"Huh!" I caught my breath, and went to the toybox first. "Get comfortable." Got out my harness, and started strapping it on.
"Is that,"
"Yes. Now let me think." It's hard enough without the distraction, and I probably can't gag her the first time. "Now, first, I have to tell you something. Floyd isn't just there to drive and protect me, he's also supposed to keep me out of trouble." Why I gave her the panic button. She might need it, but. No. I shook my head, I can control myself.
"Now," I straightened up, and felt out the long thin shaft, let it flop back down, and bounce against my pubes. "Huh!" Still very sensitive, after that mindblowing buildup.
I haven't gotten off. Yet, but this. This can do it.
"I'm going to start off with some tests. To see what your pain tolerance is, and what stimulation you're most sensitive to. I must insist that you remain silent, unless asked a question, because this is difficult, and I can hurt you."
"Mhm?"
"Would you like to say something?"
"You can hurt me, I have a high pain tolerance." I looked at her arms, and legs. Why I asked if she was a cutter, before. The first few girls I played with were, I showed them how to make it feel good.
I'm not a top, but it turns out, I am capable of Rape.
"Huh!" If I don't control myself.
Just scratches, and bruises, but no pattern to them. About even on both sides, even in places that are hard to impossible with either hand, because she didn't do them to herself, they're all accidents. She's a nature girl, all minor injuries from hiking, playing, and living in the woods. Climbing trees, she's really a weird mix of tomboy, and submissive skirt. Took a while to read, because of her mixed signals. Like her dress, peiced together from blue jeans, floral print in girly colors, corderoy, and even some velvet.
Whatever works. That's what she is, practical.
Which raises the difficulty for me. The strapon helps, me get in role. It's not my role, I'm not comfortable in it, but the harness is uncomfortable. It bites into my buttocks, and thighs, but there's nothin like a long thin dick, flopping in front of me, to remind me that I'm playing the Man. For her, not for me, I hope I can get off on it, because that's one hell of a release with this much built up, but that's the secret to topping as a bottom.
It's her scene. Even if she's tied up, and beaten, no telling where this exploration will lead, I will do it, for her. Because she needs it.
Because she did it to me.
And she did so good! I slipped right down to subspace, the bondage did that. She didn't pull me out, she didn't have to. Say anything, she just did it, and somehow picked up on the direct cervical vibes being too intense without me having to tell her. I would have taken it, and eventually forced an orgasm out, just like the overstimulation of my clit, it damn near hurt, but she didn't. She didn't hurt me, she came close, oh so close, and backed off just on Empathy. I believe her, she's never done that before, but she's a natural sub, and that's another difference from a Dom.
Empathy. She has it. She has access to it, she didn't lose it and make me end the scene because she got turned on, and stopped caring about me.
That's what I love about her.
I held up Chrome. "This look too big?" Standard size vibrator.
"No. Looks about right."
But this isn't a standard vibrator. It's top of the line, state of the art. The major difference is it's got a transformer in it. When you adjust the speed, it doesn't just slow down, the Amplitude is inversely proportionate to the frequency. So, the slower it goes, the harder it shakes. I can't even start to explain the difference, you'd have to try it, to feel what I mean, but it's a $200.00 vibrator. If you can get one, they're back ordered, the manufactorer has a waiting list, unless you can pull some strings as a very important customer.
"Huh!"
"What is it?"
"Are you making me wait?"
"No, I'm getting ready. And you made me wait."
"Oh." She thought, smiled, but lowered her head. 'sorry.' Shyly to herself.
"What is it?"
"Now that you mention it, I did that too."
See? She's a Natural.
"Huh!" Where to start?" I shook my head.
"Bondage?" She raised her eyebrows. Just her eyebrows, not her head.
"No." She winced a little. "Not your first time. I may be able to work you up to it, but." That means discipline. I looked, over at the preacher's seat, remembered how she folded, and hung up her dress. Still there, when I left the bathroom, I went to get a drink from the minifridge. There's a bar. Right there, no alcohol, but I grabbed a Gatoraid.
"You really should clean up after yourself," I pointed, she said Toolbox, not Toybox. "Is that how you grew up, just leaving tools out, lying around?"
"No, sorry."
"Put the vibe on the cleaning tray, over there." Right next to the sink. "Give me that." I took the flexible prostate masagger, "What were you going to do with this?"
"I don't know." Her boobs, well boob. When she shrugs. "Thought it looked neat."
"Want to try it?"
She grinned, "Yeah."
"Get on the bed, now." I paced, "How did that make you feel?"
"What?"
"Making you clean up after yourself?"
"Was that a test?"
"Yes, of how you respond to verbal humiliation."
"Well, it wasn't humiliating. You're right, I wasn't raised that way."
"You said you're sorry."
"Yeah. I felt sorry."
"Well, that's part of it. You start low, and build slow. So, I didn't call you a stupid cuntry slut, you born in a barn?" She winced, and her shoulders went up. "See?" I rubbed them. "Huh! That's why you start low, and build slow. I don't want to hurt your feeling, because I can."
"No, that was great."
"Yeah?"
"I liked it, not being called names, but when you, made me clean up?" I nodded. "I didn't even realize, what you're doing, I just did it?"
"Good," I tossed her the sanitary wipes, "Then clean off the chair, and put it back the way you found it."
"Yes, maam." She grinned, and hung her head.
"Obedience. You had it drilled into you."
"Literally."
"By your mother?"
"Mostly, but I also drilled with survivalists in Washington, Idaho, and Oregon."
"Like Lloyd?" Now that she mentions it, she made him as ex military, and he's payed not to spook people out. Because he's a spook.
"Yeah, not the first SEAL I've met, even. Some of them go back to the Vietnam war."
"I never actually hung out with a Militant hippy before. You mean, like, survivalists?"
"I've stayed with everyone from radical fairies to complete pascifist anarchist communes, to fully sovriegn militia compounds. Yes."
"Oh."
"Yeah, so what's the deal with him?"
"Lloyd?"
"Yeah, he one of your mom's lovers?"
"Ha! No. He's very very gay. He uses this room from time to time too, but only with other guys."
"Oh, huh! First gay SEAL though."
"Not really, you'd be surprised."
"Oh, I mean I've known." She waved it off. "Phft! I've known plenty of ex-military gays, but it explains why he got out and hit the private sector."
"Yeah." I would say she had no idea, but on second thought, she might. It can get pretty bad for gays, outed in the service. Especially the Navy, and especially the dick waving Special Forces. I mean like corrective gang-rape bad, with batons, and handcuffs. Much like when it happens to cops. "Uh, we taking a break?"
"Yeah, sorry. What would you like to do next?" It's hard for me to get started, and I'm easily distracted. Doing this, I'm not really good at this.
;
Chessie (G/f Training)
She's nervous, I can tell, but all this stopping, and talking.
I never thought, making me wash furniture could turn me on, but sure enough. She dripped. "Snh?" I had to wipe the stool too, I got it pretty greasy. That was an incredible experience. Or scene, she calls them scenes, but I'm learning.
"Hair pulling. Don't stop, cleaning up your mess." I nodded, but she just picked up my hair. I kept scrubbing the floor, like a maid, but I could just imagine. Being her maid, I bet if we wait until Halloween we can get a naughty maid costume, and that could be fun, but we'll probably be out of here by then. "Now, I'm just going to hold it, and let you put your head down." She rubbed my neck, "You can stop, a moment, but relax your neck," rubbed it.
"Hm."
"Stop when it starts to hurt."
My head, got heavy. The way she rubbed my neck felt so good, and I relaxed, so it went lower and lower, but I didn't stop. "Mh!" I bit my lip, but just relaxed. Nodded, when my head just hung limp.
It hurt, but I liked it.
"HhHhH!" I shivered.
"You like that."
"Yes maam."
She let go. I didn't drop an inch, my hair just dropped on my back, and spilled over my shoulders.
"Huhhh!" I somehow relaxed even more.
"Okay!" I snapped out of it, "Well that works! You really have a high pain tolerence! Spanking?"
"Yes, please."
"And so polite, I don't know if you deserve it. You're too good aren't you miss goody two shoes?"
"Yes maam." I Felt it, "Uh!"
"That's for leaving a mess, and That!"
"Uh?"
"Not too hard?"
"Not hard enough," you want a reason? "You hit like a little girl."
"Dont!"
"AH!" Right in the twat! "Uh! Huh!" I nodded, but she pulled up my head by the hair.
"Don't you push my buttons, got it?" Shook her finger in my face.
"Ah, yes maam. I'm sorry!"
"Not sorry enough, get on the bed!"
She scared me a little!
But I liked it. "Uh!" Gave me a couple more swats for good measure, but honestly, I told her the truth. I've been whipped. Mom's not a spare the rod spoil the child disciplinarian, and has a low overall opinion of that kind of authority, but kids fuck up. I've fucked up, bad enough to run for a switch while she counted. Up, better get back quick, because that's how many licks you're gonna get.
I'm not sure she can do this. Gina, I mean. She's a little girl, and she admits herself this isn't easy for her. I feel for her, it's the hardest thing I ever did myself, but she's trying, for me. She's doing this for me, and it just makes me love her even more. I've been in love, and broken hearted because we had to leave. I loved Jasmine, even though now I realize she took advantage of, and molested me, and I love my mama.
What did she call it, Subspace? I've been here, mama can put you down, I've seen her bring grown men, cops to tears because she's petite, and people don't know what Hippy means. It could mean anything, from Patty Hearst to a complete pascifist, willing to die rather than fight back. Nowadays, people think it's weakness, but Charles Manson was a hippy.
We are not weak. I am not weak. She might not be strong enough to break me, but I'm willing to let her try.
And it only makes me love her more.
"Have you ever been tied up, before?"
"Hm?"
She took my hand, helped me up.
"Oh, not sexually."
"Playing, with the boys?"
"Cowboys, and Kharma played too." Mom was a Budhist once, or twice. With Budhists, like Bohdi's, and Kharma's fathers..
"Cowboys, and Indians?"
"No, just cowboys, and girls."
"Right, Native Americans."
"Apaches, or whatever. It's not a Culture, it's hundreds, but re-enacting the plight, making them out to be the badguys, and changing the US Army to cowboys is revisionist history. Sometimes Cowboys and Vaqueros, when we had latino kids to play with."
"So, they tied up the girls."
"Yeah, you know. Huh! Out west, mustache twirling, traintracks kind of stuff. Then Bodhi would come, and stop the train."
"He's the hero."
"Usually, he's the oldest. Are you distracting me?"
"I'm pulling you out. Or we're done. Before I move on, it's good to clear your head, from the cleanup, to the Bondage. Now I can tye you up, so we can see how you respond to it. Without any residue from the servitude."
"Oh," make sense, "Okay." She's very good at this. I think, or well trained.
I'm learning.
...
Regina (fG...F)
"UHN!" Jesus, I had to cane her? It took hours to work her up to that, just because this might be published, let me tell you do not escalate from light spanking, to caning, then a leather belt for "The worst." Caning is the worst, but I can't hurt her. I didn't try, I spanked her, she wanted more. The flat paddle, slotted paddle, flogger, horsehair whip, ruler, and inally I worked through the canes. It took hours, but if you build slowly enough, she can take it. I can't hurt her.
"Knock knock?"
"Huh, huh, huh!" I set it down, "Hey mom."
"You girls decent?"
"Uh!" She fell over, and sat up. Held out her hands for me to untie.
Striped. Back buttocks, thighs, sides, tits, biceps, and tummy. I paddled her pussy. She got off on it. I give up.
"It's okay, she can come in." She looked up, "I want to meet her."
I went to the fridge, "You need any aftercare?" I chugged gatoraid.
"No, I'm good." Just looked at her arms. I wore myself out beating her, and it's like she didn't care! "I'm Chessie. Like the cat."
"Priscilla." She shook her hand, "Pleased to make your aquaintence."
"I heard so much about you."
"I've heard little about you. How long have you been doing this?"
"I don't know."
I checked the clock, and my jaw dropped. "About 4 hours!?" Mom looked over at me. Severely, I hung my head, and blushed in shame. I should have controlled myself better, but I couldn't. Break her. So, I kept trying, and "I just lost track of time."
"Uh, can I get some of that gatorade"
"Yeah," I pulled one out for her, and tossed it on the bed.
"Gina's just been showing me the ropes," she chuckled, unscrewing the cap, and knocked it back.
Mom sniffed, "You need a shower, and I need to talk to my daughter."
"Okay," she got up, and just walked out, naked, took the rehydrater with her. Here it comes, I finished mine, and headed over to the toilet. There's no bathroom in here, just a toilet in the corner.
"Hours?"
"Her first scene," I nodded, "Nh!" Let it out. "Hang on, I've been holding it a while. Hahhhh!"
"You caned her, on her first scene!? Did you listen to anything I ever told you about escalation?"
"That's why it took hours? She needed it, and did she look hurt to you?"
"Those welts looked pretty bad, and what about those scratches? Looks like you threw cats at her."
"She had those when I met her, she's a nature girl. Ask her about them, but I'm guessing those are mostly from thorns."
"Why does she need it, you think?"
"Huh! Not my closet, ask her when she gets out of the shower, but I didn't just beat her for hours, and I just beat her. For four hours. I'm exhausted, can I use your tub?"
"Oh, sweety. I'm sorry, it's just. You know how it looks."
"Yeah, I can't believe she can take that much, she must be numb or something, but I didn't hurt her. I don't think I can, I'm just not strong enough."
"Oh," she rubbed my neck, and shoulders. "Yeah, go use the Jakuzzi, it feels like you need it.
"And a Massage therapist, and maybe a head therapist too. Don't be gentle with her. I don't think she can break. She might look hippy dippy, and sweet. She really is, but she's tough. Tough as hell. I had to hold back, not to break your lightest canes over her back." You know, the ones that hurt the worst? I don't trust myself with the heavy studded paddle, you can kill someone with that, but I seriously considered trying it.
"She's not a, socialist, is she?"
"Idaknow," I need that bath. "You'll have to ask her."
Incidentally, it's Priscilla, and Regina Castro. Of the Havana Castros. She hates Socialism, why we live in America.
;
Priscilla {Ff NS Nerd. That's a trigger warning, because it might piss some people off, but probably no flashbacks.}
"That you Gina?"
"No, It's Priscilla," by the door.
"Oh," She seems to be a bit of a nudist, or just doesn't care. I've seen her naked, and still covered in countless welts. And scratches, and bruises, but the latter are old.
"You know how to work this thing?"
So, I joined her in the bathroom, took a few of the towels from the floor.
Well, I can see why she likes her. She's young, beautiful, and has a fantastic body. Not a perfect one, just, incredible. Nippy, busty, but otherwise lean and muscular. With tanned arms, calf, face neck, welts, bruises, scratches, and scars. Most of them old.
"The massage wall?"
"Is that what it is?"
I kicked off my shoes. "Turn the water off." Hung my blazer on the hook, and stepped in in my stocking feet.
"It's pretty high tech. My Gina says you're a nature girl?"
She nodded, "Pretty much grew up on the road, with my mom, sister, and 4 brothers."
Butch, very very butch. I stepped out of the way, and turned it on. "Let me step out, before you get in the spray."
"Is that silk?"
My blouse, "Yes, so I don't want to get it wet." I closed the door.
"Ah!" She turned around, put her hands up, and just held on. "Ah, hell yeah!" Let her head hang, her wet auburn hair. "Huhhuhuhuh!" Nodded. "I need one of these."
I cupped my hands over my mouth, and shouted up, over the door, and the loud spray. "I CALLED OUR MASSAGE THERAPIST!"
"Oh good." She looked up, smiled, and closed her eyes. "Huh!" Her head sank down again, but her hair didn't cover her face. She had braids, on the side, weighted with beads so it didn't. "Huhuhuhuhuh!" While the jets pummeled her back.
I just shook my head, and went out to the couch, before it steamed up any more. Unbuttoned my cuffs, then pulled off my blouse. "Huh!" Set it aside, carefully so it didn't wrinkle as it dried. Expensive, for silk. Custom tailored, one of a kind, designer. Waited in my bra, but with Lloyd dismissed, and both of them getting hydrotherapy, I can't believe she can take those jets after that beating.
I couldn't do that, so I think. "Huh!" Tough, impossibly tough, and I have to assume masochistic to suit. "Thanks," she came out, scrubbing her hair with a towel, the other one wrapped around, and tucked to hang from her hips. Nice generous hips, and a 6 pack. And enviably young perky breasts, they looked weightless. Almost familiar, other than how pale she is.
"You aren't a socialist, are you?" She looked up, saw it on my face.
"Why, got something against socialists?"
She hung it over her shoulders, like a cape.
"In theory, no. In practice, it doesn't seem to work out, for the prolatariat."
"Haha, yeah." She stuck her pinkies in her ears, and pumped her jaw, wiggling them. "Kph, akhuh!" Went back to the bathroom, to spit. "Uh! Got anything stronger then Gatorade?"
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen, but I've been drinking since I was 10."
"Yes," a full bar, "I can offer you some beer, and wine." I'm not giving her hard spirits, but i can use a cocktail.
"Beer's fine, uh." She came out, "I don't have any clean clothes."
"What size are you?" She shrugged, "I'll loan you a robe."
"Thanks." She followed me out, in a towel, with a Q-tip, and dried out her ears. "Thanks," looked over, and bumped the cap off on the edge of a counter, when it didn't screw off. I went up to my loft, but she just gulped behind me. "Kah! No, I'm not a socialist."
"Anarchist?" I guessed.
"Political agnostic, I guess." I handed her a cotton robe. "Close enough?"
"You don't believe in Politics?"
"I believe it's good in theory, but people suck at it." She nodded, I took the towel, and hung it up. Rubbed her chest, and juggled them around in the robe, belted on.
It looked incredible on her.
"Huh, keep trying, I guess. Every government is an experiment, they all fail for one reason or another, but keep trying, maybe they'll get it right some day." Finished the beer. "Krah! Excuse me."
"I'll take that." Down to the kitchen, I stood it in the recycle bin. "Want another?"
"Nah'm good."
"So, regardless of the eventual failure, most of them seem to ultimately come from the Asshole factor."
I mixed a highball, and dropped the ice-teaspoon in the sing. "Sph, mhm?" Swallowed.
"Basically, people have too much faith in people. Some are good, most of the time, but it only takes one asshole to fuck it up, and there's always at least one asshole."
"Well put."
"Yeah, well that's my mom talking." She sat down on the couch. Put her leg up, on her knee.
Hairy. very hairy for a teenage girl.
"Are you a lesbian?"
"Still working that out. I don't, have anything against guys, but. Huh! I guess I don't really love them, like girls. Well, some girls."
"My Gina implied that you may have been abused."
"Yeah, that's what I just started working out. Huh! I guess, I was molested, if you look at it that way. I didn't, until today."
"It wasn't traumatic?" It isn't always. At the time, but can still have lasting effects, which can eventually ruin your life if you don't deal with them.
"Huh, that. Wasn't, but." She finally showed some pain on her face, and my heart softened. "Huh! After that. She loaned me a vibrator, and Mama." She says it like a hippy, as in Mama Cass. "Well, she caught me with it."
"That was traumatic."
"Yeah, she got pissed."
"Did she hit you?"
"No, she. Well she did, but not that time. She just took it away, and smashed it. Gave me a long talk about it after that, then packed us up, and moved us out that night." She wiped her cheek. "Snh! Didn't even get to say goodbye."
"A talk about sex."
"No, that one was about plastic, and how products like that cheapen sex, as a way to oppress women."
"Sounds luddistic."
"Huh, not. Well, maybe a little. She's not a Luddite, but. Some things, more than others. She's kind of weird about sex."
"How so?"
"It's complicated, so what d'you have against Socialism?"
"Fair enough," I didn't press her, "Huh, well you heard about Che Guavara."
"Of course."
"Well so did I, from my father."
"Sounds like Mama?"
"Sounds like. He was Coobano. So, not a big fan of Che Guevara."
"And the Castros?"
"Oh," I shook my head, "She didn't tell you."
"What?"
"We are, Castros. That's our family name."
"Oh, no. She didn't. Sorry, no offense."
"None taken, not really all that close with Uncle Fidel."
"You're his niece?"
"Great uncle, I forget how many times removed. Distant relative, but the same family. Huh! Thing is, they're not Communists, they're Fascists."
"Or assholes."
"With your political theory? Yeah, they're assholes. I never met them. Any of them, since the Embargo lifted, I haven't even gone back. I'm American, but half Cooban."
"Is that how you say it?"
I nodded, "That's how it is pronounced."
"So, you're born here."
"In Florida, yes."
"Well, as little as I understand communism, it's like Animal Farm. The asshole that ruins it is usually the man in charge. That's where Fascism comes from."
"Yes, very well put." Again.
"Hey, mom." Gina came out, in a robe, and a towel. "I see you're getting along?"
"Yes, I definitely see why you like her."
"I don't," she sat down, and they held eachother. "I love her."
"Huh!" I was afraid of that, "I see." They looked at each other, smiled, and kissed. "Huh!" That bad. She kissed her, my daughter, kissed her back, instead of melting even that visibly in love.
"Can I keep her?"
One of the problems, many many problems with the women in our family is we fall in love, like that. I stopped trying to fight it.
"We shall see," but it looks like. "Huh, I suppose we have room for one more." They certainly shouldn't mind sharing a bed. If they can't, then she has a spare.
;
Chessie (NS, Talk.)
She said, "Now, go play with mom."
I protested, even though I was still pent up, and seeing her in her bra. She really is a lot like he, Regina, only grown up. And Cuban, or half cuban instead of 1/4. But she's right, she can't do it. Prescilla is bigger, and stronger, but it's not about strength. Being strong physically.
She also knows what she's doing.
"Don't worry," she took me by the hand, "It won't be like sex. More like therapy."
"All right," I gave into it, but I didn't fight too hard. I just hesitated, but free love, right?
"Sit." Regina just sat on the bed, and watched. Nodded, took the silver vibrator with her. "Not a word."
"Yes, mother." She grinned, but nodded. "I understand."
"Of course." She trained her well.
Discipline.
"First, I am going to have to address your mama issues."
"May I speak?"
"Good," she felt my jaw, and raised my face too look up at me. "I am going to have to ask you some questions, but yes. You may speak freely."
"My mother didn't abuse me." Some people don't understand our way of life, but "She made me who I am." I looked over, Regina smiled, and sighed. Had that thing turned way down, but just ran it back, and forth between her legs. Like my fingers.
She unzipped her pants on the side. Pant suit, and silk blouse. Now, I know Fashion is a social construct, sexism, sexualization, high heels are basically the modern practice of Hobbling, so they can try to be almost as tal as a man. And expensive, we have to wear it, on less pay, all of that.
But, it sure looks good. Especially on her, her matching underwear, her nice body, she works out. But in one of those pilates gyms. I look around, the traction aparatus, with the cables, and cuffs.
Swallow. "Oh."
She opened a wardrobe, with mirrors on the doors, and "Hihin!" It looked like, well like Batman. He's got a wardrobe like that, in his batcave, for his supersuit. Only, it's not lime green vinyl.
"Huh! We all do. People abuse eachother, all the time, without trying to. Even trying not to is no guarantee of success, which is why we have things like safe words. Do you know what that is?"
"Albatros." We have one.
"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner." I nodded. "You are well red."
"We didn't have TV. Most of the time, we had the radio on the bus, and books." Amazing how many books we can fit in that rig, with the rest of our lives. "I read 50 Shades." I nodded.
"What did you think?" That green plastic, it's tight and difficult to shimmy into. It doesn't stretch, but it's a lot of fun to watch. Her shimmy her hips into, especially the way her breasts move in her bra, and she has hips. Magnificent hips, and a generous behind, I'd love to get my hands on. When she left, me in the shower, just walked back to take off her damp blose, and wait for me in her bra, and pants, and heels. "Huh!" The way it moved, in those pants, and heels.
"It's disturbing, he's like." Think, "Well, he reminded me a bit of Manson."
"Charles Manson."
I grinned, "With a penthouse." Nodded.
"And Anastasia?"
"She's not a character. She's the narrator, an espy of the audience, to experience the, well experience. Her personality is limited to a few convenient affectations, like working in a hardware store, but it's not written as well as say Venus in Furs, or Lolita."
"Huh!" She nodded, "The classics. Lets go back to the experience, you mentioned."
"Brainwashing." I nodded. "First, he selected his victim, of opportunity with the convenience of the job interview, but that context provided the reason to ask the questions he wanted. To find out what he needed to know."
"Is she the one?"
"Is she submissive, obedient, suggestible, where she lives, goes to school..."
"To stalk her."
"Well, stalk isn't quite right. A power-reassurance stalker, erotomanic, or the like imagines Love, for the victim, but lacks the confidence to talk to her, or with an Erotomanic the access to become part of her life. Assuming the typical male, and females roles." It can go the other way, especially erotomanically.
"Of course."
"You look fantastic."
"Thank you." She slicked it down, with her hands so the wrinkles pulled out. "It also helps me get in the mindset, to do this."
Like Regina did, with the strapon. She barely used it, or tried it. I don't need a dick, but she did, to assume the role, and try to break me. Also, the direct pubic stimulation can get her off, sexually. So she says, but it's not about being a man. It was about playing one, so she dressed the part. It looked silly.
Her mother, does not look silly. Expensive, but here I am in a literal penthouse. Counting this room, cut into the unit next to it under a loft I believe. It's one whole end of the building. No windows, but valted ceilings under the pitched terracotta tile of the villa style roof. Out of place here, quite possibly the only red tile rooves here, in this resort complex, but wealth. Conspuous wealth. "Go on."
I blinked, "Uh," shook my head, "Where was I?"
"Dissociating."
"Yes," oh yeah. "After that, he went to work on her. Lavishing her with gifts, a car, I don't remember if she says how long, but if he buys you a car, before you're really going out, that's a bad sign."
"Hehehim!" God, do that again. Just laugh in front of me, I licked my lips. Looked up. "You're doing it to me!" I looked over, "Both of you."
"But Christian Grey didn't have a cult."
"Didn't he?" I shook my head, "She never saw it, but that isn't evidence of it's nonexistance. He had a company, with a corporate mission, and plenty of followers to satisfy the same function as a cult."
"Which is?"
"Power, respect, admiration, he's a PAMN." Rhymes with Damn.
"I'm sorry, I don't know that one."
"It's an Acronym, of Power Assertive Malignant Narcissist. Actually, he's a mashup of Holmes and Holmes' 4 sexually motivated pathotypes. The Anger Exitation Sadists' dungeon, Power Reassurance stalking, and Anger Retaliator's need to publically humiliate strangers for being women, but that just reflects ignorance on the author's part. When writing it, she just took a bunch af desirable traits, like Wealth, and wadded them up in a ball."
"Hahaha! Yes, very well put."
"Um, are you going to, tye me up, or something?"
"Yes." She stopped pacing, and faced me. "Go on."
"Um, well." Brainwashing, right. "I guess the next step, he followed them in order, is to cut her off from everything but Him. Why she didn't see the Cult, or Erzats cult, she didn't get the job."
"She interviewed for."
"No, he never employed her. He made her a doll, and put her on a shelf to take down, and play with whenever he wanted."
"Yes, good."
"She's not a person, so the reader isn't distracted by her personalitiy. So, they can be her."
"Yes, I got that part."
"Well," it occurs to me, "Then he witholds the prize, presented The Rules," looking right at Gina, "Broke his own."
"Wait, tell me about that?"
"Hm? Oh. Um, everything he said. His favorite word is I."
"Narcissist."
"Yes, but he said 'I don't do romance.' Then he did. This reinforces her Obedience. The rules don't apply to him, he's a sociopath, but everything he said he doesn't do? He did."
"Myeas." She nodded, "I didn't pick up on that."
"One of the more realistic beats." For an adaption of a Vampire vs Werewolf love triangle stalker fic. "I didn't finish it, I couldn't."
"Why not?"
"Well, then it got stupid, and boring, and. Well, downright silly. Once she got in his penthouse."
"Okay, you can stop harping on that."
"Yes, but that's what you're doing." I pointed, "What she did to me."
"Yes, and your mother."
"She never met Mama." I looked, "Have you?"
"Not that I know of. I haven't been down there in a week."
"I ment, that's how your mother indoctrinated you."
"Oh," I shook my head, "No." She's got it all wrong.
She pulled a belt, doubled between her hands, and I winced so hard it squeezed my eyes shut when they snapped together.
"Of course not. You grew up in that environment, so she could skip the first few stages, and move straight onto the Discipline." I shied away, from the rough leather, brushing my chest, my breast, my nipple, neck, and jaw. The braid on that side slipped over my shoulder, and it was as if she flipped a switch.
I could move, open my eyes, say something.
I just didn't want to.
I nodded. She knows what she's talking about.
"Mother."
"Mama."
"Yes, it's a symbolic role, arguably with more power over her children than any other person in their lives. She raised you, for what?"
"Freedom."
"Yes, of course she did."
Did she?
"Huh!" But then, all her Rules came to mind. Yeah, she beat us, but only when we really fucked up. That's not her style, she tells you, what's wrong. With everything.
"Look at you. Covered in scratches, and bruises. Living in rags, no friends, because once you find one, it's time to move on. Which tends to Isolate you, Alienate you, and make you dependant on Family. With her as the titular head."
"Huhhhh!" I relaxed.
"Now, I can bind you."
I heard her heels, sink and rub in the padded vinyl floor, I could open my eyes to follow her, but I don't have to. "HhHhH!" So, I just shivered.
What did Regina say? "It takes one to know one."
"I'm not. A leader. I'm really more of a bottom feeder, I catch the scraps that fall down from the feast table. The Roman Orgy."
"Regina, Latin for Queen." She a princess, I fell for a princess, in a tower. Only I was trapped in a Gypsy Caravan, singing songs about freedom, while she can come and go as she pleases. With her Knight to protect her, find girls, and bring us back to her personal playroom.
You can't buy freedom.
Yeah, where did I hear that one from?
"The difference is that male cult leaders, like Manson typically collect girls. All of them, I'm sure you read up on them," I nodded, "Every single one eventually had a harem of young virgins, for breeding."
"Mom had men." Not a harem, just a few months of romance, and then a year of pregnancy. Then, a baby. 6 times. I was just the second, but what does she get out of that?
Love? She laughed. She laughed at the concept of love. That's a Social Construct.
I don't do love. ~C. Grey.
I didn't grow up with him. I just now got invited up to the Tower. Took the elevator.
I was raised, by Charlene Manson.
"Give me your hands."
"Yes, maam."
At least, she doesn't try to hide it from me.
"I'm not indoctrinating you. I'm going to try to break your conditioning."
"Okay."
"With, Discipline!"
Finally, she hit me.