1 comments/ 34028 views/ 3 favorites Ex-Girlfriend By: metis_amarant My ex-girlfriend is crazy. I know, everyone says that, but I mean it. I ended up breaking up with her after she tried to get me to agree to some majorly weird kinky sex slave thing. I mean, I like to spice things up in the bedroom as much as the next girl, but there's such a thing as going too far. She had a fucking locking collar ready for me, for the love of god! And she just stood there, telling me to put it on, do it for her, do it and everything would make sense and I'd be hers forever. I stared at her for a few minutes while she continued to spout that crazy shit, before realizing she was dead serious and I was gone. I looked right at her and said, "I'm breaking up with you, now, bye." And then I got the fuck out of there. See what I mean? Absolutely crazy. So why the fuck can't I stop thinking about her? Why is it that the crazy ones are always hot as hell? And she had some great toys... that one strap on with the beaded edges... and the double pen strap on I swore she'd never use on me that I ended up loving. Her soft skin and her scent. The way her eyes seemed to just know everything. But fuck! Crazy as all get out. I'm so glad I got away before it was too late. Okay you know how she was crazy before, well, it's actually gotten worse. Yeah, hard to believe I know, but I got this note under my door a couple days ago. It read, 'collars come in many forms my dear.' And I just get this chill every time I read it. I know it's from her. It smells like her. I don't know what to do about the note. It doesn't seem right to throw it away. Do you think I should burn it? That might be satisfying. I need to stop thinking about her. She's crazy and I ended it. Just another kinky bitch who wanted me to play along in her fantasy of being some sort of dominatrix. To continue would be to enable her fantasy, and that wouldn't be healthy for her or me. So it is really in the best interests of both of us that I never see her again. Never smell her again. Never feel her hands on me, or inside me. Never hear her voice whispering all the naughty things she is going to do to me. Never again. I'm going to burn the note. I know, I know, I said I'd burn the note. I couldn't bring myself to do it. It smells so deliciously like her. And, well, I've kinda put it in a pillowcase with my pillow to sleep with at night. I know she's crazy, but I do miss her. I know! What I need is to get out and meet someone new. Or at least to party hard enough that I can stop thinking about her for one lousy minute. Fuck! I have never turned down so many women as I did just now. So many hot chicks, all approaching me, touching me, nearly drooling and I didn't want one of them. None of them was her. None of them had her scent, her tits, her waist and hips and feet, her fucking cunt and eyes, those fucking eyes! Maybe I was wrong to turn down her offer, maybe I need to go to her and beg her for forgiveness, beg her to take me back, beg her and lick her feet anddddddddd I totally don't remember writing that last night. Wow I was messed up. Not doing so hot right now. Head hurts. Light from the damn screen making daggers in my eyes. Owie. Maybe typing with my eyes closed will help. It will keep my mind off of her. Her... no, focus on headache. Tummy-ache. Rotten taste in my mouth. Ew. Yeah, that wasn't something I wanted to focus on. So I brushed my teeth, and as I was doing so I realized she had left some of her toothpaste at my place from the last time she spent the night. I cried looking at that fucking tube. I miss her. Why the fuck do I miss her? Why the fuck did I leave her in the first place? Maybe I should. Maybe. Just. Once? Thank god it's Thursday. *** I looked up from the printed sheets to my patient curled up on the leather couch before me. She was twirling her hair with one hand and the other hand had drifted to her crotch, lightly stroking herself absently, as if unaware of what she was doing. Her eyes were partially concealed behind a curtain of dark brown hair and seemed to be locked on a point somewhere on the floor in front of me. "I'm glad that you've done your assignment and kept a journal of these thoughts. I think it is healthy to write down those kinds of feelings before they overwhelm you. How do you feel about the writing that you've done?" "Am I crazy?" she asked, with her voice cracking on that last word, nearly sobbing it out. "I mean, I know that I don't want what she wanted, and I think she seriously needs help, but I can't help but think of her, all the fucking time doc, and even the writing hasn't really helped it's just the tip of the iceberg, you know? It even seems worse the more I write, like a loop of thinking about her, writing about my thinking about her leading to more thinking about her. How do you know if you're crazy? I mean, isn't it crazy to be writing about, thinking about going back to her and doing what she wants? Isn't that crazy?" Her voice was frantic and fast, pitch rising every time she said, 'crazy.' I gave her my best doctor look, considering her words, compassionate, sane, but taking her seriously. She was practically begging me to validate her concerns and agree that she wasn't crazy. Unfortunately, based on her writings I was not sure that outpatient therapy was going to be enough for Stephanie. As is my practice when faced with a patient that did not seem in imminent danger, I was going to wait before deciding to commit her, unless she gave me good reason not to wait. We did, after all, have twenty more minutes. "Do you feel crazy Stephanie? Do you feel trapped?" "I don't know what crazy feels like doc," she said, despondence oozing out of her words. No violence in evidence though, which was a hopeful sign in my book. She might get herself another hangover, but I didn't think she'd harm herself, and certainly not others. "Trapped? Yeah, like I'm trapping myself almost, with these thoughts of her that won't stop. Maybe I'm trapping myself in my own head? Or maybe it's her, using me to trap myself. Like that fucking collar, only all in my head. Does that sound crazy?" Her voice, which had almost returned to her conversational norm, once again was clogged by tearfulness and squeaks at that last sentence. "Sometimes our own minds can be our worst enemies Steph. We lock ourselves into these thought patterns, even though they're not what we want. It isn't crazy, necessarily, just part of human existence," I glanced at the clock. Time to wrap this one up. "I know that you liked Chloe, but consider that her actions that night may have just brought out the fact that you wanted out of the relationship, that you weren't comfortable, and this gave you an excuse to leave a bad situation. Now you might be feeling guilt that you dumped her, and you're considering going back into what may even be an abusive relationship, simply because you feel guilt and a desire to please. That's not the way to live a good life Steph. You need to figure out you first, and then add someone else into the mix. Is there anything else you want to tell me before we finish?" She took a deep breath, then nodded. A few more deep breaths and she still hadn't said a word. "What is it Steph? You know you can tell me anything," I reassured her, noting that, knowing Stephanie fairly well by now, we weren't yet over her time. "I dream about her. I was afraid to write about it, because the dreams feel so crazy, but I have dreams about her... about her doing what she wanted to do to me. Not that I'm even clear on what that exactly is, but the dreams... I always wake up all... excited," she spoke this time in a rush, hurrying to get the words out before her courage ran out. Despite having seen me for more than two years she still felt a little squicky about talking about sex. It was kinda cute in the deep non-doctorish recesses of my mind. "It is only natural Steph, to have dreams about sexual things when you go from getting it all the time, to not getting it at all. Your dreams aren't under conscious control, and you should never feel guilty about their contents. Please, try and write about those dreams for me? I'll see you on Monday, right? Four o'clock," I said all this while standing and offering her a hand to help her off the couch, and out the office door. I'd still be considering whether to recommend her for confinement, it was in my notes, but I doubted that I would follow through at this point. Twice weekly appointments seemed to be perfectly adequate for Stephanie's needs at this point. "And Steph?" I waited for eye contact before telling her one more thing. "Burn that note." *** You told me to burn the note. I have to burn the note. I'm going to burn the note... tomorrow. Yes. It is too late tonight. I'm just going to go to sleep now. Okay. I'm going to try and write about the dream I just had. You said it would be good for me. Okay. I'm. In the dream, I'm tied up. There's like, something, not ropes, but something, holding my wrists and ankles spread eagled on a bed. I can't tell what room, hers, mine, a hotel, it's all fuzzy background detail. She is there. I'm naked, but she is wearing this dark shiny stuff that clings to her every curve, I swear it fucking outlines the freckles on her arms that I think are so fucking cute. She is speaking to me, her voice is soft and I can't make out the words. I can't think very well, all my brain power is focused on looking at her, drinking in the sight, I want to go to her, to get on my knees before her and beg her to use me. I pull against the bonds and whimper because I still can't move. Then she picks up something huge and silver, like a bullet the size of a loaf of bread and she gets this smile on her face, such a wicked smile, I've never seen her smile like that, but it fits in the dream. Then she starts ... putting it inside me. And I'm so close to cumming, but I know that I can't, not unless I have permission. And I want to ask, I want to beg but when I think to do it my mouth is gagged shut somehow and I can't say anything, and I can't cum. I woke up slick with sweat and so fucking horny I would fuck anything right now. Even though I fucked myself a few times before writing this, I'm still hot and fucking panting to be fucked. Fuck! Well that was easier than I thought it would be. But what the fuck kind of crazy person writes a note on flash paper? I. Well. I was going to just burn a little of it. I admit, I wanted to keep it, but I wanted to do as you said and burn it too. But the moment the flame hit the paper, the entire thing went up in a flare and puff of fucking smoke. All that remained were ashes that poofed all over the place. The ashes fucking smell like her, and now I can just smell her everywhere in my apartment. It's like she's there all the time, just around the corner out of sight. I keep thinking I hear a knock at the door, and her voice telling me to open it, but when I go to the door there's no one there. Don't crazy people hear voices? Work was bad today. I couldn't focus on my paperwork. Good thing it was Friday and everyone was goofing off. No one noticed my long trips to the bathroom, where I, um, I masturbated when I was sure no one else was in there. And every fucking orgasm is more unsatisfying than the last. I'm going out tonight and getting drunk. Not dancing or going to meet people. I just want to get drunk and stop thinking about her. Maybe I should stay in to do that. So no one else hits on me like last time. I have no idea what I did last night. All I remember is drinking a whole bottle of whiskey. After that, there's nothing. Just the image of the empty bottle and then I woke up on the floor, naked, and fucking aroused despite the worst hangover I've ever had. That can't be good for me. I'm taking ibuprofen and water. The pounding of my head seems to be in a cadence that matches her name. Chloe. Chloe. Every fucking beat. I'm going to take some sleep aids and go to sleep 'til work tomorrow. *** I looked up from the journal entries that Stephanie had given me from over the weekend and stifled my urge to sigh. Sighing wouldn't be professional under the circumstances. Instead I gave her that careful patient look that sometimes elicits gushes of words from those patients of mine that have a great deal to say but hesitate to say it. Stephanie didn't notice my carefully controlled look. Her head was bowed down and her face covered by her hair. She was curled up on the biggest couch in my office, a tiny spot of suffering in a pool of beige leather. "I'm worried about you Steph," I said gently. "Turning to drugs and alcohol in times of pain like this can be a natural reaction, but you seem to be unable to control yourself. Talk to me Steph. Tell me why you got fucked up drunk this weekend." "I don't know. I just. I need you to tell me I'm not crazy. Please?" Her voice was rough, exhaustion and pain laced in every syllable. Fuck. "Steph, I don't think you're crazy. I just think you're going through a rough patch. Sometimes when we go through rough patches in our lives we need help getting through them. I'd like you to consider joining an in-patient program for a week or two," I said, using my best persuasive voice. I didn't have justification to lock her up without her consent at this point. She wasn't self harming, just drinking, and that just wasn't enough. I didn't think she should be left alone, but that was my instincts and not the facts talking. "I've got work though. I don't think they'll let me take off a week to visit a loony bin," she sighed and sat up, putting her legs down off the couch, but still letting them dangle. She faced me and looked me in the eyes for the first time the entire hour, and what I saw reassured me enough that I decided my guts had had a misread. She wasn't horribly depressed, she was still hung over. Fairly amazing, but then again, I didn't know if she had been drinking this morning or after she got off work. Nothing on her breath, but I wasn't all that close to her. "Alright Steph, here's the deal: no more drinking this week, and keep writing everything you're feeling. I want you to be totally open for me. We need to figure out better coping strategies for you. Take walks, go to the library, coffee shops, anywhere they don't serve alcohol so you won't be tempted and just hang out. Read a magazine, or do crossword puzzles, just be out of the house and around other people. Socialize if the opportunity arises. How do you feel about that?" "I guess I could do that. On top of this whole Chloe business there's some shit going on again with my Mom..." We passed the rest of the hour discussing yet again why it wasn't Stephanie's responsibility to fly out to see her parents every time her Mom's cat did something cute. I let her go feeling confident that I had done the right thing. She just had had a bad break up and gone on a binge. There was nothing to worry about. *** Well, I'm at a coffee shop. I've got a latte and I'm writing for my journal. I even stopped dreaming about her, that I remember. Though I do keep smelling her everywhere in my apartment. Maybe I just don't remember my dreams. I did wake up horny as hell again and wet. My sheets were wet. Fuck. I did. I had to have dreamt about her. She's the only one who does that to me. The only one. Someone just came in who looks like Chloe. But it can't be her. This chick is too short, too brunette. But she reminds me of Chloe, has that same strut about her. Yummy. *** Stella dropped a bunch of cards advertising the latest event at Club Whet on the coffee shop counter. She then walked over to the small girl typing on her laptop, exactly as Chloe said she would be. She smiled at the girl and received a smile in return as she placed a special card on her table. "Here, this will get you a free drink tomorrow night at Club Whet, hope to see you there." Stella smiled at the girl until she picked up the card and looked at it. She'd be there, now that she'd touched it. *** I know you said not to drink, but it's free. I can't turn down free. Besides, this is a hot new club and I don't know if I'd get in on the weekends. I've seen people going there in some weird but awesomely beautiful and expensive looking clothing. I have to go there. The card smells like Chloe. My dream was different last night. I was kneeling before Chloe, my head bowed low and my knees wide apart. I was so wet I was flowing a steady trickle onto the floor. There were piercings down there. And they were chained to the floor. I couldn't move without pulling on all those rings. I couldn't see anything above her knees with my head bowed, but it was her, her beautiful knees. Her feet encased in stiletto leather ankle boots. And I wanted to lick her feet, to free them from their shiny patent confinement and clean them of any sweat and dirt that might have accumulated. Gross! But still. I wanted so badly to do it. To abase myself before her. She walked over to me and patted my head, and I felt waves of pleasure at her touch that crested into an incredible orgasm when she said, "Good girl." That's all I remember from that dream. I woke up satisfied for the first time since I walked out on Chloe. I think I'm on the right track now. *** Stella was tending the bar when the girl walked in, just as Chloe had said she would. Just past seven, and the bar was not empty, but neither was it bustling. She was easily able to find a free space at the bar and present her card to Stella. "What'll it be?" "Oh, I get to pick? Um, a Long Island Iced Tea please," the girl replied. Stella nodded and mixed up the drink. After the girl had finished the drink, sitting at the bar the whole time and just watching the crowd as Stella watched her, Chloe walked in from the back. "Thank you, Stella, for taking care of Steph here. I will be taking care of her from here, so you're in charge at the club, understand?" "Yes Ma'am," and Stella bowed over Chloe's outstretched hand. Chloe walked around the bar, behind Steph, completely out of her line of sight the entire time. She reached up and touched Steph's neck. Steph sighed, all the air seeming to whoosh out of her lungs without conscious thought or control as she leaned into the caress. Chloe stepped closer, and brought her mouth to Steph's ear on the opposite side of her hand. "You're Mine," she breathed, and then she fastened her teeth on Steph's earlobe and bit, hard. As soon as she drew blood, Stephanie came, and sealed her fate. Steph would have fallen off of the stool if Chloe hadn't caught her. After she was steady enough to walk, Chloe pulled her to an unmarked door, and through to a private area of the bar. She then used cuffs to fasten a compliant Steph face up on a futon mattress, spread eagled. Steph wasn't really listening, and Chloe knew it, counted on it. She kept Steph's mind in a state of constant orgasm, and dropped her words past Steph's occupied mind into her subconscious. Once there, the drugs from her free drink would help cement those words to Steph's being, along with the hormones her body was madly pumping in response to Chloe's intense stimulations. Steph had lost all control of her self and her situation. She hadn't really had any choices from the moment Chloe picked her up at a bar three months ago. Chloe smiled, pausing for a moment on her spoken conditioning, as she contemplated how close she had gotten to her target without being seen. Soon Steph would begin to fulfill her true purpose. Just a few more hours of orgasm training. . . *** I can't stop thinking about her. Nothing satisfies me anymore. What am I supposed to do, how can I get back my life? I just want to masturbate and think of her. What she did to me. How she made me feel. I dreamed of her again. You said I should write my dreams down, so here goes. The first thing I was aware of was the smell. In my dream I smelled vanilla and her cunt. And then it was like I opened my eyes and she was straddling me. I looked into her eyes and felt comforted, safe and horny. I was naked, she was wearing a tight black leather vest that made her cleavage spectacular, and a strap-on. My favorite one, with one dildo for each hole. Without thinking I start humping at the waiting dildos. Chloe just smiles and shakes her head no. I squirm and mewl and reach down to pull her inside me, but when my hands get down there I can't help but touch myself. I hear Chloe say, 'good girl,' to me and I redouble my efforts. I want to cum. I want to cum so badly I'm screaming, but I can't. I shove my fingers in my asshole while I abuse my clit with the other hand and still I am short, unfulfilled, but filling up, I can feel the orgasm hiding on the other side of her calm possessive smile. Only when I begin to beg her, to plead with her does her face change and I suddenly know if I beg well enough she'll fuck me, she'll let me cum. My hands are no less busy, but my screams turn to ragged cries of 'please please let me cum.' And then she's holding a collar in her hands out of nowhere and--fuck this is hard to write-- I begin to beg her to put it on me. Because I know she'll fuck me, make me cum, if I submit to being hers. So I say, 'please Mistress make me Yours.' And then she leaned forward and snapped it on my neck as she thrust both dildos inside my aching holes and that was when I woke up, covered in sweat and reeking of cunt. Ex-girlfriend Jennie I hadn't seen my ex-girlfriend Jennie in over two years. We used to fuck like crazy, but really couldn't stand each other. Even from the beginning I didn't like her as a person. But man could she fuck! I met Jennie through a friend in college, and used to go over to her place and drop a load inside her pussy when I needed it. She was really just a fuck-buddy on the side back then. Such a great whore. I actually had another girlfriend at the time, Mandy, a really sweet, knockout blonde with decent sized tits and a killer ass, but she wouldn't do all the crazy stuff Jennie would do. She was in one of the best sororities on campus at Madison. If I tried to lick her asshole or make her give me head after I had been fucking her pussy, she would always balk. I got really tired of hearing, "That's nasty! Why don't you just get me from behind like you like to do and shoot it on my back sweetie?" So that's usually what I did. Which was great most of the time, but it got kind of old after a while. Like the old saying goes, 'No matter how good she looks to you, some guy somewhere is sick of putting up with her shit.' Well at this point, I was that guy. Mandy came from old money in Biloxi, Mississippi and had only come up to Wisconsin because of a full scholarship offer to study biology. She was an excellent student and the Salutatorian of her small high school class. She wanted to be a surgeon and do neurology or some shit, which I thought would be great if we ever got married. She would be super rich, as if her family wasn't already. In high school, Mandy had promised her parents and her church that she wouldn't have premarital sex. She actually held out until her sophomore year in college with a guy before me, so I was her second. The pre-marital sex promise turned her into a total head whore though. I found out later she had blown like eight guys in high school on dates, because she was didn't want to fuck but was scared of disappointing them. She wouldn't swallow cum though, because she was scared of STDs. She always spat, even in college with me. But back to Jennie. She definitely wasn't in a sorority. Her parents had divorced when she was three, and she was really raised by her aunt and uncle more than her Mom. Her Dad moved away to California after the divorce, and her mother had so many men in and out of the house that her aunt begged to move her to a more stable environment. Jennie was raised here in Wisky. By the time I met her, she wasn't anything like Mandy. She was a brunette of medium height, with tanned skin and perfect c-plus sized tits and the tightest little bubble ass you have ever seen. One thing about her that I never will forget is how good she always smelled. Like honeysuckle in the summer. Jennie was apparently was a pretty precocious kid and told me later she had first masturbated at 11 years old, before she really knew what it was. She also got on a kick where she liked to ask boys to show her their penises when she was only 12. She would show the boys on her street her budding tits and the new hair on her pussy if they would jack their dicks for her. They were too young to cum yet, but she liked to watch anyway. She wasn't really friends with any girls on her block. They all thought she was a slut, even at that age. I think she said later it only took her one more year to take a 17 year old guy's cock in her mouth. One night in college I was with Mandy at a party. We had been dating for a full year at this point. It was one of my fraternity parties and I was sitting at a table playing quarters with five of my frat brothers. I was pretty drunk after having quite a few quarters dropped on me, and gorgeous Mandy, as usual, was tired of my drunken antics. I was sitting at the table popping quarters into a half-full beer glass while she stood at my shoulder and watched, probably rolling her eyes and wishing she was somewhere else. It was a fun game, but I was getting wasted and she wasn't drinking at all. I started getting so drunk, I tried to stick my hand up Mandy's skirt a couple of times to finger her pussy, eliciting gales of laughter from my boys and a couple of the girls there who were onlookers. Mandy slapped my hand away a couple of times, mortified. Finally, she told me later, she got so embarrassed she just left and drove herself home, leaving me to my own devices. I stayed though because I was having a lot of fun getting drunk with my boys. They liked Mandy, but knew she was a really nice girl. No one really seemed surprised when she took off. I knew I was going to get a tongue lashing the next day from her, but tonight I was determined to continue my good time. With the quarters game ended, I had a pretty good buzz going on. I strolled around the house looking for something else to amuse me. In the Back Bay, which was what we called a pretty small room toward the back of the house, I stumbled on four guys and three girls sitting on the two couches in the psychedelic decorated room. It was a pretty fun place. Some of the brothers before my pledge class had decked it out with black lights, the typical colorful swirl posters, a psychedelic shiny metallic disco ball, and the requisite Hendrix, Sublime, Rage, and Radiohead posters. Since Mandy was gone, I was free to do whatever the hell I wanted. These kids were hitting a bong pretty hard. I could hear the 'pfft pfft pfft' smoke sounds like steam in the glass pipe. One of the girls was sitting on my buddy Brock's lap; she was tanned and had brown hair and medium sized boobs. I thought she was hot, not nearly as beautiful as Mandy, but definitely had that fuckable air that you see with some girls. Like she really knew her way around a cock (and maybe some pussies too). Little did I know this was Jennie, and fate had something special in store for me this night. I grabbed the arm of the love seat opposite Brock and the tanned brunette. The other guy there was Matt, a skinny kid with curly hair, who was by himself sitting next to Brock and Jennie. There were two younger dudes I didn't know sitting on the couch I was perched on. Two girls sat in their laps. The two girls were fairly cute. One was a redhead I knew named Vivian with a better-than-average face but a very fuckable tight dancer's body and almost no tits. Her friend was a skinny girl I didn't recognize with dark hair with a long, almost vulpine face and large fake tits. But by far the hottest girl in the room was the tanned brunette sitting on Brock. As they hit the pipe and passed it, I listened in on their conversation. They were talking about sex. The skinny, fake-titted brunette was complaining, "I hate it when a guy tries to fuck my tits, then jams his dick into my chin. So annoying!" Everyone laughed. Matt spoke up, "That's why you have to open your mouth, Angela." She laughed back, "Ha ha, thanks for the tip, Matt." "I'll give you the tip later," he said. "If you just open your mouth." Everyone laughed harder at that. Matt had a pretty dry sense of humor and everyone liked him. The redhead chimed in, "Ok, weirdest sexual experience right?" The room nodded. She continued, "Ok, a couple months back I had a really weird experience. I like giving boys head right? But I had this one date, I won't say his name, but he took his pants off. I have him on the bed. I sit him down. He's totally naked and so am I and I start to go down on him. So I'm sucking his dick, and he seems to be enjoying himself. And he starts to sort of raise his hips." I heard the skinny brunette laugh. She had heard this story before obviously. Vivian the redhead kept talking, "So I'm thinking he wants me to lick his balls right? So I go down and start licking around his sack..." "I think I know where this is going," I chuckled. "And he keeps shifting his hips up toward my mouth. So I say, Ted...." at this she blushed bright red. "Looks like you gave his name away!," shouted Angela. I knew a Ted who was a Sig Ep, but not very well. It was probably that guy, but at this point I didn't care. "Oh, shit! Oh, well," Vivian said. "Should I keep going with the story?" she looked meaningfully at Angela. "Hell yes!" yelled one of the young dudes. "You better!" I shouted. "Don't stop!" said Angela. Everyone yelled at her to go on. "So," redhead Vivian said. "I watch him raise them up as I'm licking his balls and now I have a really clear view of his ass. And I'm like, 'Ted what are you doing'. And he goes, 'C'mon' Vivian, please?' I was like 'No! I don't think I'll be doing that. So gross!" I was laughing as was everyone else in the room. It got quiet for a second and then I could hear the steam sounds as someone else did another bong hit. "Why?" asked the tanned brunette on Brocks' lap. "Why what?" smiled Vivan, as she giggled from her pot high. "Why didn't you lick it?" asked the brunette calmly. "Was it clean?" She smiled, "I love licking asshole." Brock gave a big grin at that, "Damn, Jennie, this is one hell of a first date!" Everyone laughed. She replied by rubbing his cock through his jeans in front of all of us. I grabbed the bong from Angela and hit a hard toke. This was going to be a pretty cool night. TO BE CONTINUED? Ex-Girlfriend was in a Bind It was unquestionably the weirdest phone call I've ever gotten. I was in the middle of a workout at the gym when my iPhone lit up and the name on the screen said "Kerri" - as in my ex-girlfriend Kerri whom I had not spoken to in three years. Usually, I wait until after a workout to return calls, but this time I was curious, so I picked up. "Uh, hello?" I said, cautiously. The voice on the other end was panicked, but I recognized it immediately as Kerri - the girl I had dated for four years before breaking it off three years ago. "Ry? Listen, I need you to come over to my place. It's an emergency. I'm not in any danger, but I need you to come here right now," she said. She sounded out of breath. "What kind of emergency?" I said, skeptically. I was about 40 minutes away in the suburbs. She had plenty of friends who lived nearby her downtown apartment - not to mention Curt, her new boyfriend. What was so urgent but at the same time could wait 40 minutes? "Ryan, it's kind of unusual circumstances. I need you," she said, still panting. Shit, it almost sounded as if she was fucking Curt as she spoke to me. "What about Curt? Geez, are you with him right now?" I countered, really getting annoyed. What the hell kind of emergency would require her ex-boyfriend and no one else? "Listen, Ryan. I'm alone. Curt is the last one I want here. I know you feel bad about how you ended things, and if you do me this one favor, we'll be even," she said. She was right. I did feel guilty. She was a nice girl, cute enough at 5-foot-4 with wavy auburn hair, and I had broken up with her solely because I was bored with our sex lives. She was a prude and didn't like having sex except on special occasions. Blowjobs, anal and even doggystyle were out of the question. Still, she was asking me to drop what I was doing and drive 40 minutes. "I'm in the middle of a workout, Kerri," I said. "What could possibly be so important that you need me there right now?" There was a pause, and all I heard was Kerri's intense breathing and something buzzing in the background. "OK," she started. "Listen, you can't tell anyone this. So ... things have changed a bit since we broke up. I've started experimenting ... sexually." "Ker, telling me about your sex life with Curt is not the best way to get me to drive 40 minutes to help you," I said. "No," she said. "Curt and I don't do any more than you and I did. I still just get uncomfortable being sexual with guys, even boyfriends. I don't know why." She was whimpering now, and I was thoroughly confused. "OK, I've been doing stuff alone," she said. "Curt is out of town tonight, so I decided to try something really kinky, and ... I'm in trouble." Not knowing what to say, I just waited for her to continue. "Look, I'm just going to say it," she said, panting. "I wanted to try bondage, but I'm afraid to do it with Curt. So I bought this set of handcuffs that came with a timer - I found them on the Internet. I put a vibrator in my, you know, on a random setting where it turns on and off, high and low, at random. I cuffed my arms and legs to the posts of the bed, and threw the key across the room. The timer was supposed to keep the cuffs locked for a half hour. But it's been two hours, and I don't know if I did it wrong or if they're defective, but I'm stuck. I was able to reach my phone on the nightstand, but I can't get to the key. Goddamn, Ry, there's no one I can call - I'd be ruined. I'm fucking naked, spread-eagle, with a vibrator in my pussy" - I'd never heard her say that word before - "and it smells like a porno shoot in here. You have to help me." I didn't say anything. It made sense, though. I was the only one who had seen her naked before, and she didn't care if I judged her. Laughing to myself, I was about to tell her I'd be right there, when she started talking again, apparently mistaking my silence for hesitation. "Ryan, if you come down here, you can do anything you want to me before you unlock me," she said softly. "Anything. Whatever you've always wanted to do. As long as you get me out of these cuffs before Curt gets home tomorrow morning." "I'll be right there," I said, and hung up. I sat there for a second, letting the situations ink in. Then I hopped up, grabbed my shit and made a beeline for my car. *** When I got to Kerri's apartment, I reached under the plant outside her front door and found the key. I paused for a second before putting it in the lock. What if this is a big prank, and she and her friends are inside ready to laugh their asses off at me? I hadn't thought of that at all on the long drive down here - I was too consumed thinking about putting my dick everywhere she had never let me before. What the hell. It's worth the chance, I thought, and I turned the key. No laughter. No friends. The TV was on in her living room, but there was no one in there. I walked quickly to her bedroom, half-expecting it, too, to be empty. This had to be too good to be true, right? I slowly opened the door, and what I saw made my jaw drop. Even though I had been told what to expect, nothing could have prepared me. She was exactly as she had said. Spread-eagle, ankles cuffed to the footboard and wrists to the headboard. Standing there, glued to my spot in the doorway, I looked first at her pussy, with the little,blue, whirring toy still in it. I couldn't see exactly what it was, but it looked similar to a butt plug, which I guess was why she couldn't just squeeze it out. Her dainty little lips were glistening in the light, and the bed was soaked below her. And she had shaved! She always had a full red bush when I dated her, but now it was a neat little landing strip. I was half impressed, half angry that she had never done that while we were together. My eyes went next to her tits, which were as perky and well-shaped as ever, about the size of apples. She had the cutest little nipples, eraser points on quarter-sized areolas. Finally, I looked her in the eyes. She had been staring at me, silently, a look of desire in her eyes. I guess three hours with a vibrator in her pussy had that effect. "Thanks, Ryan," she said, a genuine look of gratitude on her face. "Listen, we can have sex. I promised you could do anything, and you can, but first can you take this vibrator out, please?" I laughed and walked toward her. I reached out and, before taking the toy out of her sopping wet pussy, I flicked her little bud, making her jump and moan. I expected her to call me an asshole or try to kick me, but she didn't. She just looked at me wantonly. Finally, I grabbed the little buzzing toy and pulled it out, her juices making a sucking noise as it came out. I held it up to my face. It smelled like honey - just like I remembered from those rare times I used to finger her. I stuck out my tongue and licked the glistening toy up and down, savoring the taste of my ex-girlfriend's juices before putting it down on the bed. I turned around and saw the key laying in the corner of the room, and laughed. Then I started unbuckling my pants. "Wait, can I just have a few minutes to rest?" she said. "That thing has been in me for three hours." "Your cunt can rest," I said, deciding to test my limits with a word she hated. Her eyes flared for a second, but that was it. I don't know if she realized her powerless predicament, or if she was just that turned on. I pulled my pants and boxers off in one motion and moved quickly toward her face. Before she could object, I jumped on the bed, straddled her with my left leg above her shoulder and my right leg below her other shoulder, and put my dick in her mouth - that pretty little mouth that had never sucked a cock before. She was startled for a minute, but then she started sucking - vigorously. She was clearly inexperienced, but she was getting an A for effort so far. I just sat there and she bobbed her head back and forth as much as she could from her prone position, making loud slurping noises. She was using a little teeth, but not too much, and swirling her tongue around as she sucked me like a popsicle. Her hot, wet mouth felt amazing. After a few minutes, though, I pulled back. She tried to keep sucking! She reached her head up as much as possible, her mouth open wide and tongue reaching for my 8-inch cock. Hopping off the bed for a minute, I grabbed my pants and fished around in the pocket for my phone. I then got back on the bed and put my dick back in her mouth, and held up the phone to take a picture. Suddenly, her look of desire turned to fear. "Uuurghh," she grunted around my cock, trying to say no. "Kerri, you said I could do anything. I won't show these to anyone. But you teased me for years with this mouth, and I want to remember this moment now," I said gently, keeping my cock in her mouth, but with a pleading tone that told her I'd stop if she really wanted me to. "Fiiiihhde," she said, rolling her eyes. I smiled. "Don't say cheese," I said. "Just keep those lips wrapped around my dick." She giggled at that and, keeping her lips in the same place, swirled her tongue on the underside of my cock. I almost came right there. After a few quick photos, I put the phone down. I could've shot video, but I wanted to savor this, rather than concentrating on being a cameraman the whole time. I started sliding my dick in and out of her mouth again, my eyes never leaving hers. "I'm going to go a little deeper now, OK?" I said gently. Instead of a response, she craned her neck upward to take in as much of my 8 inches as she could. I guess that was a yes! As I pushed downward, she coughed around my cock, saliva coming out the sides of her mouth, and I quickly pulled back. She took a minute to catch her breath and then surprised me by saying, "Don't stop next time. I've always wanted to try deepthroat, and now, tied down so that I can't push you off me, seems like the best time to try it. Just put it all the way in, no matter how much I gag. I'll yell if I can't breath." I smiled and brought up my dick back up to her mouth, but I just rested it on her lips. She reached up, trying to wrap her lips around it, but I held it just far enough where she could only lick it. Then I rubbed it across her lips a few times before finally letting her engulf the head. Moving up slightly on the bed, I slowly pushed deeper into her mouth. She stopped swirling her tongue around when my dick hit the back of her throat, but she didn't gag. I paused for a few seconds to let her adjust - her eyes were wide open, never leaving mine. As I shoved in deeper,I felt the tighter sensation of her throat just as she started to gag. I paused again as she spit some more out the sides of her mouth, but she calmed down like a champ. I pushed a little more, and as she gagged again, her whole body writhed. I guess this is where she wouldn't have been able to resist pushing me off. Luckily, her hands were cuffed to the bed posts. Finally, I was all the way in, and she had stopped gagging. Her nose was in my trimmed pubes, her mouth stretched wide, but I swore I could detect a smile in her eyes. Then she started back up with her tongue again. What do you know? This girl could deepthroat. I reached for the camera, snapped a quick picture with her face buried in my pubes, and then put it down and started slowly moving my dick in and out, savoring the feeling of being completely engulfed in her warm, soft mouth. I would've been fine taking it slow for a while, but Kerri was having none of it. With what little movement the position permitted, she bobbed faster, making noises as my dick pounded the back of her throat repeatedly. After only about two or three minutes of this - unfortunately it felt more like a few seconds, but I guess time flies when you're getting deepthroated by your prude ex-girlfriend - I felt that familiar feeling of cum rising in my dick. Holding back as long as I could, I finally slammed into her face one more time and held my dick in her throat as I shot jet after jet of warm, sticky cum down her throat. She gagged slightly but kept sucking until the last of it came out. As I started pulling back, and she sucked for the last few drops, I kind of wished I had come on her face instead, because I felt like I had unloaded about a dozen ropes. Oh well. We weren't done here. I took my dick all the way out of her mouth but kept it right in front of her face. "Are you OK?" I said. "I'm fine," she said with an almost embarrassed smile. "Good," I said, "because we're far from done." She smiled. "OK," she said with a mix of nervousness and excitement. I slapped my dick once on her lips but then stepped back and off the bed, drawing a confused look from her. Then I uncuffed her ankles. Quickly, before she could say anything, I pushed her legs up over her head and cuffed her ankles to the same bedposts as her wrists. She always was flexible. Next, I put two pillows under her butt to prop her up. I then stepped back to admire my handiwork. As she looked at me expectantly, I grabbed the phone and took a few shots of her wet pussy and puckered asshole. Then I stepped up and put my cock back in her face. "I don't think your pussy is ready yet," I said, "so lube me up!" "Ry, I've never taken more than a tiny little butt plug in there," she said, moving her head and laughing as I slapped her face with my dick. I was kind of surprised she had even done that. Then again, after tonight, nothing should have surprised me. "Ker, there's a first time for everything," I said gently. "Now get it as wet as you can." Resigned, she started lapping at my dick, sucking the sides up and down and spitting on it. Most of the spit ended up dripping off my cock and back onto her face, making her a sexy mess. When I was nice and wet, I pulled back. Her eyes showed a mix of fear and excitement. I got close to her little asshole and spit on it, then rubbed it with my fingers. I put one finger in and then two, each time letting her get used to it for a few seconds. Finally, I pulled my finger out and lined up my cock right against her little brown eye, which had shut quickly. "Just relax," I said. I could actually feel her puckered hole relax against the tip of my dick, and with that I gently pushed in a bit. She closed her eyes tight but didn't say a word. My cockhead is pretty big, a little bigger than a golf ball, so it wasn't easy. But finally, I felt it slip in. I held it there for a few seconds, but Kerri, her eyes still shut, said, "Just keep going." So I did, slowly. "Owwww," she said as I got about two inches in. "Are you OK?" I said. "Just fucking keep going, dumbass!" she panted. "Let's just get to the part where it feels good." So I did. Slow and steady, I kept pushing. Every little bit felt so tight that I wasn't sure if I could go any farther, but I kept going. Finally, I was buried all the way, balls deep, in her asshole. Every time she squeezed slightly and then forced herself to relax, it was the most amazing feeling. "How's that?" I said. "It hurts like fucking hell," she snapped. With her eyes still closed as she focused on getting used to her asshole being filled up with eight inches of cock, I then reached behind me and grabbed the toy she had been using when I first got there. Switching it on, I put it right up against her clit. Her eyes sprung open and she flinched, moaning. I made sure to hold my dick in place. Suddenly, she started grinding her ass ever so slightly on my dick. I took that as my cue to start pumping. Slowly, I pulled out only about an inch and pushed back in, drawing a gasp from her. Then I pulled out a little further, all the while still holding the buzzing toy against her clit. Soon, I was moving at a decent pace - nothing like when I fuck a pussy, but I had a decent rhythm going. She was enjoying it, too - I didn't even have to ask. She was using what little mobility she had too fuck me back with each pump. The combination of going slow and having already cum once helped me go on for more than 10 minutes. Several times, I stopped to grab my phone and snap a few pictures of my dick buried in her tight bunghole. Finally, I felt that familiar feeling. I slowed down even more, though, not wanting this to end. But her asshole was so tight, there was no stopping it. I tossed the toy aside and gave her a few of my hardest thrusts yet, making her squeal with each one, and finally started unleashing torrents of cum deep in her bowels. She smiled and let out a gutteral "Ooooooohhhhh yeeaaaaah" as I filled her insides with hot cum. Finally, spent, I pulled my dick out slowly, watching as her asshole hesitated for a second before closing after I pulled all the way out. "That was amazing," Kerri said. "Yeah," I said, just sitting there with my dick in my hand, trying to comprehend what had just happened. "So what's next?" she said, still looking almost comical in that pose with her feet tied up behind her head and her pussy wide open. "Are you still man enough to go three times in a row?" Without saying a word, I grabbed the vibrator, turned it on and shoved it back in her pussy, drawing a look of surprise from Kerri. I then got up off the bed. "Hey, what the fuck?!" she said, a panicked look on her face. I laughed. "Relax, I'm not going anywhere," I said as I walked into her bathroom. After washing my dick off, I grabbed a towel off the rack, and her razor and shaving cream from the shower, and went back into the room. "Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?" she said. "Let's just say," I said, "you're going to have a little bit to explain to Curt." With that, I took the toy out of her pussy, put the towel underneath her ass - she was writhing at this point but couldn't do much - and I took the top off the shaving cream and sprayed it onto her thin, red landing strip. "I never got to fuck a bald pussy till after we broke up," I said. "And to this day I've wondered what it would be like to fuck YOUR bald pussy." To my surprise, she didn't object - she just looked down at her little cunny, waiting for the action to start. I started with a few long strokes with the razor, getting rid of the landing strip pretty quickly. Wiping it off on the towel, I then put some more shaving cream right above her clit and leaned in close to touch it up. Her lips were already shaved bare. Using the towel to wipe her off, I admired my handiwork - and then snapped a picture. She still hadn't said a word or looked away from her cunt. She looked turned on by her new porn-star look. I took the stuff back into the bathroom and came back out with a wet washcloth, gently patting down her newly bare pubic area. It looked amazing. So amazing, in fact, that I couldn't wait any longer to put my dick in there. I climbed up and shoved my dick in, and I swear it slid in easier than it ever had in all the years we had dated. I always had to go down on her for about 20 minutes before we had sex back then, just to get her wet enough to do it, but that wasn't necessary now. This bitch was in heat. I pounded her hard but slowly for a few minutes as she moaned and humped back. Deciding to test my limits, I sped up a little bit and went a little harder. Before long, I was full-on bottoming out, our pelvises slamming into each other hard with each thrust, and she was screaming like I had never heard before. She was usually the quiet type, so this was confusing to me - on the one hand it was fucking hot, on the other it was fucking weird. Deciding to prolong it a bit longer, I pulled out, and she looked up at me with a sad puppy dog face. I quickly moved up and rested the tip of my dick against her lips. She realized what was happening, and all the sudden she was back to the prude, demure bitch of the past, sealing her lips and refusing to put my dick, glistening with her juices, in her mouth. Ex-Girlfriend was in a Bind I gave her a little nudge with my dick, but she refused to open her mouth, shaking her head and saying, "Unh-un." "Kerry, either you're going to suck off your pussy juice, or I'm leaving right now," I said. "I'll uncuff you, but I'm not going to finish fucking you." I was bluffing. If she refused again, I'd fuck her still. But she was so horny, I had a feeling I could get her to do it. I was right. She stared down at my dick for a minute, angrily, before opening her mouth just a little bit. She let me put the tip in, but she wasn't using any tongue, and this just wasn't doing it for me. "Don't suck it yet. Lick it up and down. And do a good job or I'll leave," I said, knowing I had her. She did as she was told. Tentatively, she stuck her tongue out, and I helped her by guiding my cock along it so she didn't have to move. I paused to let her see what her pussy tasted like. She swallowed, thought for a second and said, "Not bad." Then she stuck her tongue out, and I leaned forward as much as possible so she could use all the mobility she had - her hands still cuffed to the posts, and her legs up above her head, ankles cuffed to the same posts. She lapped away at my dick. Finally, I used my hand to stop her, and I put my dick in her mouth. She sucked hungrily. A minute ago she wanted no part of tasting her juices; now she was sucking my dick like a lollipop, trying to get as much of her flavor off it as possible. Eventually, I pulled away. Three times was about my limit nowadays, and I had some more work to do before cumming one last time. I moved back and slid my dick back into her pussy, and she moaned loudly, shutting her eyes. "Fuck me," she said, almost whispering. "Say it louder," I demanded. "FUCK ME!!! FUCK ME HARD!" she yelled. I obliged. I pounded her as hard as I've ever pounded anyone, and she met every thrust just as hard. This was some of the best sex I'd ever had, even aside from the fact that she was my prude ex-girlfriend. Her pussy was so tight, but also so wet. Eventually, she started thrusting faster. Finally, I could feel her pussy spasm around my dick as she let out a loud, animalistic moan. I hoped her walls were soundproof. It was all I could do to keep from cumming just long enough for her to finish. When she finally started to slow down, I pounded a few more times and pulled out. Moving up to her face, I said, "Open up." Surprisingly, she didn't argue. She had that exhausted smile of a woman who has just had an amazing orgasm. Her eyes were only half open, but she lazily opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out. That was all I needed. I gave my dick a few strokes and unleashed. The first two ropes went straight onto her tongue, reaching the back of her throat. She pulled back slightly and shut her mouth, gagging just a bit, but that was fine - I was already planning on unloading the rest all over her face. "Don't spit it out," I said as I sent rope after rope across her face. Luckily her eyes were closed, because a big glob landed right on her left eye. Her face was dripping with cum by the time my cock slowed down, and I quickly put it back in her mouth, letting her hungrily suck out the last few drops. Spent, I pulled my dick out. A string of cum came with it, connecting my dick and her mouth, so I wiped it across her lips. "Let me see your mouth," I said. Her eyes still closed, one covered with cum, she opened her mouth slowly. Cum hung from her teeth. I grabbed my phone, snapped one more picture, and said, "Swallow it." She opened her right eye, looked at me for a second and gulped. Then she ran her tongue through her mouth and swallowed again. I smiled. Then she spoke for the first time in awhile. "Can you at least get the glob of cum off my eye so I can open it," she said. I laughed. I took my dick and used it to scoop as much of the cum off her eyelid as I could, and then presented it in front of her mouth. "Suck it off," I said. Obediently, she slowly sucked my head clean. She seemed like she would be content to keep making love to my cockhead with her mouth forever, and for a moment I was almost in love again. She looked adorable, covered in cum and slurping on my dick. Then I snapped back to reality. I looked at the cuffs and her prone position and reminded myself that was the only reason why she had done any of this. I reluctantly pulled my dick back and got off the bed. I got dressed and then walked over to the other side of the room to get the keys to the handcuffs. When I came back over, Kerri had her eyes closed, a smile on her face, and her tongue out, licking up as much of the cum from around her mouth as she could. I wondered if she would have even cared if I left without uncuffing her. She looked perfectly content right there. I laughed, and one-by-one uncuffed both her arms and both her legs. Surprisingly, she put her legs down but didn't get up right away. Laying there, legs spread-eagle, hands finally free, she wiped all the cum from her face and licked it off. It was unbelievably hot. Finally, she had gotten it all, swallowed it, and she just lay there looking at me with a tired smile. "Thanks for coming over," she said with a hint of a laugh. I took that as my cue to leave, and I walked out, leaving her laying on the bed, bare pussy splayed wide open. I never turned back, and I've only talked to Kerri a handful of times since then. We've never talked about that night. But I have the pictures, and you can bet I'll never forget it. I'm guessing she won't either. Ex-Girlfriend *** Dr. Jennifer Jones put down the print out of Stephanie's journal writing. The rest of it was irrelevant to her current activities, more whining about her ex-girlfriend Chloe and even some steps in a good direction. Not that she cared at the moment, her hands tracing a complicated route under her skirt and into her underwear, avoiding the garter belt straps and trying not to snag her stockings. She had fifteen minutes between patients and she was putting them to good use. That last dream of Stephanie's had done something to her. The fantasy, though ill described, was addictive. Jennifer wanted it, the fantasy of it, the helpless orgasm. She couldn't wait for Stephanie's next appointment, and with it the next batch of dreams. A clock dinged and she removed her hands, using a baby wipe to clean away traces and lighting a scented candle to cover the smell. The room now smelled of vanilla and cunt... *** I can't stop, I just can't stop. The dreams are overwhelming, I can't even write them down as more than fragments it's just coming so close, dripping wet, knowing that just one word from her will bring me release and she denies me, she stops me. Strap-ons and toys and pleasure that brings me just to the brink. There's nothing I can do... I should go back to her, back to Chloe, no, no I can't I won't. I'm done. I need to move on. I need to stop. *** There was hardly anything for me in Stephanie's new journal entries. Just a small fragment of masturbatory material, amid a ton of reassertion of self-control and even progress made with the relationship with her mother. Damn it! And now the old entries wouldn't even bring me the pleasure that they once did. I hadn't orgasmed since before her last appointment. Well before. And to think I had had to switch her back to once a week now that she was improving. Damn it. So now, I just had to hope and pray for a relapse of her infatuation with Chloe or I might never cum again. The door opened and Stephanie walked in, smiling, actually smiling! She sat down on a chair, sitting straight and confidently. Then the door opened again, and I looked up in confusion at this interruption. A tall girl with dark blond hair and vivid green eyes strode into my office and I knew it was her. I felt myself tighten and moisten. I sat still, paralyzed as she walked up to me and pressed a cloth to my face. A sweet smell, like vanilla and cunt was the last thing I knew before darkness claimed me. *** The same room that Chloe had taken Stephanie in, behind the bar, fully supplied with restraints and toys was the next place Jennifer gained consciousness. She was tied onto a straight-backed chair, still clothed, groggy but drawn awake by the scent of vanilla and cunt... the scent of Chloe. Stephanie was moaning and writhing on the floor in a series of orgasms, tied up and buzzing softly. But Jennifer soon had something more important to pay attention to as Chloe began to speak. "Oh doctor. Everyone goes for the body. It is the most defended and least valuable part of you. The mind is less guarded, mostly out of arrogance. But the soul. The spirit. That part of you that you try to deny even exists. That part is left vulnerable to my words, to the seeds I've planted deep in your mind through my ex-girlfriend here. You were cultivated until I could direct your dreams and your fantasies like they were my own. Now that I have your spirit, that your mind is tangled in my web, your precious body is mine and you can't fight it. I know what you think of when you close your eyes in bed and slip your hand down to that dirty cunt. Or sitting in your office, a hand sliding under your skirt for just a few quick caresses. You stopped wearing underwear for me. For me, and for your body. Feel it. Feel yourself dripping? I know you do. And I haven't even touched you yet. I know you want me to touch you. You want an orgasm. At first, masturbating to dear Stephanie's journal entries was the best orgasm you ever had. And then I stopped you. You haven't cum in over a week and you know I can do it to you. Force that beautiful shining orgasm through your entire body, for as long as I want. You know it will make you mine, to give in like this, but you can't help it, can you?" Jennifer's head shook no in response as tears continued to flow down her cheeks. "It isn't that easy. You know better than that my dear doctor." The silence stretched on. Tension and the smell of cunt filling the room. "Please," one quick word, a soft exhalation with desire laced inside. "Please what?" a singsong rhetorical question. Forcing her to be the instrument of her own degradation. "Please . . . I want to orgasm. Please?" Chloe stepped closer to Jennifer restrained in the chair, her eyes boring into the doctor's, and allowing her the near orgasmic privilege of the scent of her skin. She turned away, and with her back to Jennifer said, "I don't buy that you really want to. Convince me doctor." It was as if she stopped breathing, as if she had died, for just a moment, a break between her last free heart beat and the moment she went in her head to the door with the neon 'no exit' sign above it and stepped inside. Then she went crazy. "Pleasepleaseplease make me cum makemecum oh god please fuckfuck fuck please please please I need it need cum need orgasm fuck please fuck!" she thrashed in her bonds as she screamed her pleas, a symphony to Chloe's ears. "Quiet doctor," and Jennifer instantly fell silent in hopeful anticipation. "I believe you now. When I touch you, you may cum." Hands coming oh-so-close almost touching, near caresses sent Jennifer closer and closer to the biggest release she had ever known, the first in her new life. Hands drifting down to the cunt between her legs made Jennifer buck in a silent beg, but no, not there, not for the first touch between them. The sound of the hard slap across Jennifer's face was quickly eclipsed by the scream of rapture emerging from the depths of her soul. When the orgasm finally ended she found her restraints had been undone. "Stand up you little slut," growled Chloe. Jennifer complied. "Take off that wet clothing my filthy little bitch," Chloe crooned, voice dripping with disgust and possessiveness. Though Jennifer jerked with pleasure at being called 'my' anything, she also obeyed quickly, drawn on by the need for more pleasure, more pain. "Now lie down over here, cunt," Chloe gestured to what looked like a gynecological exam table with stirrups deployed. "Good. Strap yourself in place, slut." The erstwhile doctor strapped her ankles in the specially designed stirrups. Positioning herself so she could reach them, she ended up hanging off the end of the table, ass and cunt wet and exposed as she lay back. She managed to fasten the left cuff, but fumbled helplessly with the right before begging for help. "Please Ma'am, could you fasten this last one?" "You may not cum until I tell you that you can, whore," Chloe cautioned as she stepped over to finish securing her newest conquest. It was time to enjoy herself after all her hard work and such a long time in coming. Time to see if the doctor could take a fist or two. "Stop," the voice was male, and came out of the blue to Chloe. It also reached deep inside her, that voice, that particular voice... She ceased all motion, going absolutely still, stopping. Her face was blank, devoid of emotion. "Well gentlemen, I hope that this last demonstration proves to you beyond a doubt that we here at CyMinD have created a true learning and creative AI program. You set the parameters for the test and model FauxDom has clearly succeeded," the man gestured at the constantly orgasming slave that used to be Stephanie, rocking on the floor near the door, and the waiting doctor restrained on the table. "I can discuss custom orders over here individually, and please feel free to enjoy the fruits of our long experiment as you wait or as you decide. FauxDom can be used or woken and made to use the others, or to submit even, though I do caution you that experience will be rough."