"Maggie" H. Jekyll ======================================== Copyright by H. Jekyll. Permission is freely granted to post on any site that does not charge for entrance, as long as proper attribution is given to the author. The story should not be read by anyone under the legal age to read sexually explicit stories, or by anyone in a location where it is illegal to read such stories. I appreciate comments and inquiries, even criticisms. All authors do. Please send them to: h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com. My stories are archived in the Authors' section of the Alt Sex Stories Text Repository, at: ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/h_jekyll/ This is a revised version of the story I posted for the ASSTR story festival. I dedicate it to Maggie McGee, my editor and the focus of the story. I won't reveal if the story is completely, or even partially, true. I wrote it as a vignette for Maggie some months back, and she insisted that I submit it for the festival. MF, BD, con. ======================================= You have known from our earliest correspondence that I have a dark side, that I really am a Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde. I think you were seduced by that knowledge. That must be why we kept returning to the dark stories, exploring their power, edging toward practice. Still, how was I able to persuade you that we should meet in person, to play a "game" of domination? Were we prepared for the passion when we could see and touch each other? Is your memory of it all the same as mine? Does the memory excite you as much as it does me? Do you remember it this way? ------------------------------------------------- We met, and after I told you my fantasy you agreed to be bound. I was excited, the impetuous male, but your excitement was mixed with doubt. How uncertain were you? How reluctant? Your agreement demonstrated the level of trust between us; if it weren't solid, you never would have gone through with this, letting yourself be under my control, but I could tell you were close to calling it off nonetheless. You came even closer when I got reckless. You have told me repeatedly that you don't find pain erotic, but I slowed everything down to tell you that along with being bound you had to know that I could hurt you, that even loving you I would find it arousing to hurt you. I wanted to take away your sense of security, to make the game more dangerous, more thrilling. Would this end it? There was time to reconsider. Or were you high enough to experience a frisson at knowing the safety net was gone? Ecstasy! I was right. The thrill moved through your belly and overcame your judgment long enough for my purposes. Quickly now! Don't allow second thoughts. I stripped you with kisses and caresses, telling you I love you. You were both anxious and excited, like you had been since I installed the hook and chain over the closet door, but higher, more needy. You kept glancing at them, then back to me. I don't think you considered how to remove them after I left. No, only what I would do with them. You were breathing so fast by then that I feared you might hyperventilate, but the fear became excitement when I considered that you would be dizzy and maybe disoriented. I had a pair of sleeves that I had found in a sex shop somewhere, like nothing you'd ever seen. They were black velvet tubes that fit from your wrists to your elbows and all along them were eyelets intended for lacing. When I slipped them on you they were incredibly soft moving up your forearms, softer when on completely, still soft as I laced them with leather laces, all the way up, and tied them off. I did everything slowly. You had been wordless until now, one of the rules of our game, but when you saw how the sleeves looked with your skin as a foil, you exclaimed: "They're beautiful, Henry! I never thought I could feel so sexy." You wanted to go on but I shushed you: "Don't talk, Maggie. You're my girl and must be still for me." Yes, I did tell you *were* sexy in them, Maggie, sexual, and that you would be even more sexual and beautiful when you were immobilized. You were as right as anyone could be. I shushed you as part of the game, but your hands were pale and feminine coming out of the velvet; your body too. Several rings were sewn into the sleeves, along with a clip that let me secure your hands together. In the same shop where I had found the black velvet sleeves, I found a length of black velvet rope that tied beautifully into a ring, and with which I walked you to the closet door. It took only a moment to thread it through the chain and pull your arms up. You had thought there would be more ceremony. I remember it perfectly. You were facing out toward the bedroom, your arms stretched over your head, almost completely off the floor, standing on tip- toes. I'm stronger than you had expected, and it was so easy for me to lift you. It was easy to see that this made you more anxious, and hotter. Anyone could tell it. You've read my stories and know that this is a position I like to use for my women, my victims, so you weren't surprised when I spread your legs and tied your feet, with more velvet rope, to screw-rings I'd installed at the sides of the closet doorway. You weren't uncomfortable, but you could hardly move. I'm not sure why I waited until then to strip. I do remember that the feeling in my penis while tying you was almost profound. My dick was larger than I can remember it growing in years. My chest was tight, and I had to take large breaths before I could talk. We kissed, rich and delicious kisses, and I played with your body. My cock was pressed against your belly. I recall little sounds that you made in the back of your throat and I remember asking myself if it was time to move beyond what you expected. Yes. I went to a leather satchel on the bed, took out a roll of black cloth, and brought it to you. I couldn't wait for you to see what it held. I couldn't wait to see your face when you saw. It held a series of bright, stainless steel tools: skewers, scalpels, long pins, pliers, scissors. They gleamed beautifully. I let you look at them for a moment. You almost stopped breathing. Finally you said something, but you said it without the breath to push it, and I could barely hear you: "Wait a minute. What are you doing, Henry? I don't think I want to do this." "Maggie, love, these are just in case. You need to be obedient and quiet. I don't want you talking at all. Do you understand?" Your mouth was open a little. Your eyes were large. You couldn't disguise your sudden fear, though you tried To act brave. What were you thinking now? You didn't say anything more at all, but you nodded. "Good. You can make noises. In fact, I'd like you to. But no words. The other thing is that you have to do everything I tell you. Everything. Do you understand that, Mags?" Again you nodded. You stared and stared at the tools, then stared in my eyes. The room was deathly silent, so silent I could hear the clock ticking from out in the living room. Nothing in my whole life was more charged than that moment. I was afraid I might come without even touching my penis, and I've never in my life done that. I put the tools away. I didn't want to break the spell, but it was time to continue. When I returned we began kissing again. It wasn't as before, though. No, you were going through the motions at first, just trying not to antagonize me, acting like a victim, feeling like a victim, fearful like a victim. It was the first time you had ever felt any real fear of me, and it was slow to evaporate. But I was kissing you and caressing you and you finally must have decided that it was just part of the game, and your passion returned, actually sweeping over you like a wave. I sensed the change in your kissing and your body when it happened. The doorway was wide enough that I could move all the way around you easily. I tied a soft blindfold over your eyes, then begin circling you. I touched you everywhere, brushing your skin with my nails, licking you, giving you little bites. I love underarms, so of course I nibbled on yours, both sides. I sucked your nipples, then ran my tongue around and around them. I played with your pussy. I knelt and licked you there. I wanted to get you higher, as high as possible; blindfolded and immobile, not knowing where the sensations would come next, waiting. Where next? There. There. I left you for a minute, left you wondering and waiting, your body moving a little this way and that, left you frustrated, to get some mentholated petrolatum so I could push a greased finger up into your ass. Oh that changed your motions! You gasped and begin to twist about. You were thrashing, Maggie, but your arms and legs couldn't move. Oh, it is too strong! It burns. No, no it doesn't. No indeed. Once you knew it wouldn't hurt you it pulled your passion up another notch. I spread more mentholated grease on your pussy and your nipples. It was both hot and cold, of course; but you were just hot. You were so easy, Maggie. You had never been tied, never played this game, so everything was new to you, and you got excited so quickly that you made deep moaning sounds when I merely tongued your navel or nipped you on the waist. Had you wanted this all your years and not known it? Was it a new land that held an entrancement you hadn't imagined? You wanted to ask me to do specific things, but you couldn't because I wouldn't let you talk, and even this excited you. I moved fingers back and forth through your slippery labia. I was still circling you, Maggie, touching you at different places all the time. You must have thought I'd bring you off without first making you dance. Were you surprised when I stopped all at once? I stopped touching your nipples or pussy. I touched you everywhere else, but not there. I let my fingers and mouth get oh, so close, but no touching. I got right to your areoles. I barely caressed the outside of your labia. You became frustrated, my love. I could read your mind: don't leave me this high. You tried to move your body toward my hands and my mouth, and you made sounds of frustration. Finally you did it. You said: "Sweet heaven, are you going to take all day, Jekyll, love?" I stopped entirely, stepped apart from you, and stood quietly for a moment before I put my mouth to your ear. It was important to let you know you'd broken my rules. "Oh, that's my sassy Mags, isn't it? Of course now I'm going to have to hurt you, darling. I'll try not to enjoy it too much." At that you stood completely still. No talking. Not even any breathing at first. Your mouth looked funny and I thought you might cry. I stepped to you and kissed your lips, to stop the trembling. "Do what I say, my love." We started kissing together and you acted wild for my mouth. Now I did touch your nipples. I tweaked them between thumbs and fingers, thumbs moving up and fingers moving down, making them grow. I sucked on your nipples, then moved slowly down your front, nipping on the white of your breasts, kissing your stomach, nibbling at your waist, going down, down to your sex. I held you by your ass and hips and moved my mouth into you and slathered you with my tongue. The tension, being caught between fear and desire, was too much for you. You started to come and cried out loudly. You kept crying out. Then I entered you. Because I am so much taller than you I had to half-kneel to do it; with everything else that was happening, I still remember the awkwardness of it. I held on to the black velvet rope over your head, fucking upwards into you. But you, my God, I've never seen or heard a woman so explosively orgasmic. When I came, and it only took a minute, my legs went out from under me, and I had to hold myself up completely by my arms, almost slipping down. ------------------------------ We had a quiet dinner, touching now and then, giving little kisses out of the blue. You were drawn to the little bundle of tools. I didn't want you to open it, and tried to stop you, but you insisted and soon understood my reluctance; you didn't even try to hide your disappointment that they were just painted plastic. I heard you whisper, "You devil!" Later that evening, because the days are long, we took a walk along the River Road, arms around waists, hand in hand, mouth on mouth, and I did kiss your hair like I had written I wanted to, long ago.