"Obsession" Part Three H. Jekyll --------------------- This is a six-part story of evil and desire. It is a cautionary tale. "Jekyll" is not to be confused with H. Jekyll, the mild-mannered author, nor is "Kytn" to be confused with my e-friend Sweetkytn (@aol. com). I am indebted to my editor, Maggie McGee (maggiemc@citynet.net), for her heroic efforts to make my writing clean and direct. Copyright 2000 by H. Jekyll. Permission is given to repost on any web site that does not charge a fee for access, as long as the author is prominently noted. Net writers post stories for feedback, not money, and I am no different from anyone else. I welcome comments, complaints, and conversation, at h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com. My stories are archived at the Alt Sex Stories Text Repository: ftp://ftp.asstr. org/pub/Authors/h_jekyll/ M/F, F/F, bdsm, cons., nc -------------------------- Kytn is aware of a presence. She is hearing herself, far away, muttering something, "his will commands me," and somehow she knows Jekyll must be near her, though she has heard nothing. She still stands with her hands pulled over her head, blindfolded, but she sags in the ropes now. Her shoulders hurt. Her feet are sore and tired. She has to pee. She doesn't remember if she has been reciting or sleeping, or both. She tries to recall where she is, but the thought is elusive. "Be still now, Kytn." She stops trying to remember her lines. She needs to pee, then to sleep. "You stopped your obedience exercise some time back, Kytn, so it's time to punish you and take my pleasure." Now she is awake, now she is aware. She stands upright on those poor feet and moves her head around, sniffing and straining to find where he is, the direction of the hurting to come. "Please, Master Jekyll, please, I tried. I'll do better, I promise. Listen. I must obey . . ." He makes her stop. He moves right up to her, so she can feel the heat off his body. His hands run over her again. He again tickles, plucks her nipples, circles her pudendum, making her focus on the beauty of what he can do with his hands. She is so tired that this will make her sleep, and maybe in her sleep have sexual dreams, but she still has a full bladder, that announces itself with urgency. "Please, Master Jekyll, I need to go badly." She is talking in scarcely more than a whisper. "That can wait. Did I tell you to talk? No? Well, now you will talk. I'm going to use this belt to punish you. Twenty strokes. You'll count each one. Then you can use the bathroom. Now count." The belt makes a rushing sound, and as she finds the direction of the sound it hits her breasts and she screams. She thinks they must be split open. "Count." "One. Oh, Master Jekyll, please, no." Another rush of the air before the belt slaps her hip. "No begging. Now count." When did she lose her water? At some point he whips her thigh where urine has streamed down, sending a fine mist with a heavy urine smell. It must have been about eighteen, because soon he is finished. He decides to fuck her. "Nothing like fucking a pussy soaked with piss," he says, and he pushes his penis into her for the first time. She is crying and twisting with her twenty welts. She can tell, vaguely, that he is naked, and his body hurts hers as he rubs up and down against her. It doesn't take him long at all to come. "Well, a nice way to start the new day, no? " She is just hanging, gasping for breath, and moaning instead of crying. "Now start practicing your lines again. We have a long day ahead of us." -------------------------- She cannot tell how long she has practiced. She cannot continue. She cannot remember. She is lost in her blindfold. Every few minutes she drifts and loses track, then no matter how hard she tries to make it up he comes over to hurt her again and make her start over. She notices that he is saying something again How long has he been talking to her? She forgets his voice. Hers is reciting. What is it saying? She will hang here forever, sagging in the ropes, drifting more than reciting, giving only the briefest response to the lash before drifting again. She is reciting What is she saying? She feels his body against hers, but only barely, knows that the ropes are gone though not how they disappeared. She is being held up by his arms, certainly not by any effort of her own, and she is asleep before he lays her on the bed. -------------------------- Dreamless sleep, but not empty. There are movements and sound, as though a thousand dancers and as many choruses sweep through, dance through, talk through. Just no faces, no text, no shapes, nothing to remember later, nothing to build a story around. Kytn feels no pain or pleasure, so deep is she. Now there is something. Something begins, a sexual dream, a dream of pleasure. She dreams Jekyll is loving her, his hands are loving her. They are playing gently with her. They are touching her sex, then moving away, then coming back. She is paralyzed. She cannot move to meet them, and must wait between touches, for the fingers that move up into her vagina, that move around her clitoris so very softly, that pull on her labia. In her dream she pleads for him to let her finish. The fingers become lips on her, and a tongue, which also touch, then withdraw, then return. When does she begin to realize that the hands and mouth are real? So deep has she been that she doesn't waken all at once, but rises as from the bottom of a sea, her body in full arousal before she realizes what is happening, that she is being caressed, still blindfolded and tied. Not gagged, though. She can hear herself, making sounds, sounds like a sheep The hands and mouth move away, so she moans in disappointment again. It is as before: torture by pleasure. Now there is a short whirring sound and she is struck on her stomach. She makes a different animal sound, like a horse. The stroke burns, then throbs, then subsides a bit. After a moment there is the mouth again, renewing her arousal, almost instantly it seems. When she is close to the edge, he withdraws and gives her a lash on her upper arm, so she writhes and neighs again, after which his hands and mouth return. This continues forever. It must be forever. When she is high with sex she is waiting for the whip, anxious, unable simply to feel the pleasure, ruined by the knowledge that the pain will come when he knows she is high enough. She tries not to show her pleasure, to extend the time, but after awhile she is worn down by the pretense, by working so hard not to gasp or moan or bleat or push her pussy to him. Then there is the moment of terror waiting for the blow, and when it comes she cries through the cycle of pain and wishes for the pleasure to start again. Each extreme has her thinking of the other. Suddenly something different. He unbinds her, lifts her, pushes her to her knees. She feels him stand right up against her, his prick at her face. "Suck me," he orders. "Do it sweetly." His prick is hot on Kytn's face, so she finds it easily with her hands and guides it to her mouth. It is both sour and musky, like meat gone slightly bad. She runs her tongue around the end, feeling how slippery it is, thinking that he must have been excited a long time. She sucks directly at the hole, finding some slippery juice that she swallows. Bending forward, she takes the prick farther in, so that she can pleasure it with the flesh of her mouth as well as her tongue. It throbs. She wonders how it will be to taste his semen, when he comes in her mouth. She is so hot that she thinks maybe she will come, too, that this will let her come. He reaches down to clench hair in his hands, to hold her while he moves his prick into her mouth with strokes that are long enough to hit the back of her throat and make her gag. When he pulls back she tries to capture the head, to give him some more pleasure, then, as she catches it, he does come, giving her the nectar of submission. He spurts and spurts, gasping out that she isn't to swallow yet. She holds what seems an ever growing pudding, and is shaken with some kind of frisson that dampens her disappointed that she doesn't come as well. Now this step, the one she had feared the most in her thoughts of submission, has been completed, leaving her wanting more, with the feeling and tasting of him and knowing he will demand more. When he can talk he tells her to swish the come around in her mouth, not to swallow until everything is coated: her teeth, tongue, throat, the roof of her mouth. That way she will keep his flavor with her for a long time. He pulls her to her feet and, as she staggers, he pulls her legs open, spreading her feet. "Don't be disappointed. We're not done. Now clasp your hands behind your neck." This pushes her breasts forward. "We're going to play some more, but it will be different this time. You won't be tied. You'll like that, won't you? But Ktyn, you must stand quietly, without being tied. You can do that, can't you? Because if you disobey -- well, let's say, if you disobey, you will give me another kind of pleasure." She hasn't come down of course, so when he begins playing with her body again it is almost a continuation. He caresses her in the same places as before, walking around her as he does so. She can feel the movement of air, and sometimes the heat off his body. His prick bumps against her; he is that close. She works to obey, to keep her body still while little electric currents seem to follow his fingers and his tongue. He dominates her senses. The taste and smell of his semen stay with her. She hears his feet on the floor. His fingers work her so that she is all goose bumps. He licks her vagina, slowly and thoroughly. Oh my. He must be kneeling right between her legs. His hair is tickling her thighs and even that turns her on. She is so high, her breathing shallow, her heart thudding against her ribs. Then he stops. "Don't move." She knows what is coming, that he will strike her again, and she becomes so frightened that she can barely control herself. She tries to obey, but when she hears a sudden noise to her left, she squeaks and jumps to the right, hits something hard, and falls to the floor. "That wasn't good. Stand up and we'll try again." He lifts her again, places her hands behind her head, and tells her to be obedient. She starts shaking. She can't stop whimpering, but she holds her hands in place and tries to be brave. Maybe if she strains her ears and peers intently through her blindfold she will know the room better and be able to find the belt. There is the sound of the belt moving through the air again, once, twice, three times -- without hitting her. She has tensed all her muscles and has stopped breathing, but she cannot hold this for long. She has to let the air out, and does so slowly, in a tiny, high-pitched whine. When he does hit her all her muscles spasm. He begins to play with her body while she is still twitching and gasping; he strokes both her breasts, licks her belly, and passes his hands over her clitoris with amazing gentleness. She gets high again, loses control of herself. She can't consider holding her sex back from him, but pushes it out toward him. Then the belt. He is pleased with her. It is obvious. He plays with her longer, getting her closer, almost to the edge, before the next stroke. Once again he works her up. She is swaying by now, and stumbling. He takes her by her hair to hold her still. Once she is stable, he uses the belt on her sex, giving it tiny, fast little strokes. They sting and they stimulate and soon she is caught up in an extension of the merged desire and fear, getting higher, not higher and lower, just higher, until she orgasms with a shriek that sounds exactly like a woman sobbing. She is so caught up in the rush of pleasure that she forgets to hold her hands behind her head. She sways, her knees give out entirely, and he lets her sink slowly to the floor, letting go of her hair only at the end, so that she simply lies and moans for a while.