======== Message-ID: <022314Z19021996@anon.penet.fi> Path: news.primenet.com!nntp.news.primenet.com!news.fibr.net!news1.crl.com!nntp.crl.com!howland.reston.ans.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!in1.uu.net!EU.net!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories From: an65862@anon.penet.fi X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories Organization: Anonymous forwarding service Reply-To: an65862@anon.penet.fi Date: Mon, 19 Feb 1996 02:20:59 UTC Subject: *REPOST/deirdre: Plan Lines: 238 Xref: news.primenet.com alt.sex.stories:133846 This is a repost of one of the seven stories which I posted in January 1996: Desire, Hidden, Other, Plan, Stars, Trial, and Wait. -- deirdre Disclaimer: my stories, like the private sex fantasies of many people, often depict "breaking some rules". Do not read this story if you believe fantasy stories should never depict situations undesirable in real life. Be warned that you may not be comfortable with the sexual situations. Do not read this story if you are less than 18 years of age. Permission granted to repost, to make available online, and to publish in low-cost CD-ROM archives of alt groups if attributed to deirdre. Permission granted to publish in periodicals and anthologies of this type of material if attributed to deirdre and an author's payment is sent to AIDS research in the name of deirdre. -- deirdre Plan by deirdre, 12/2/95 I stared at the videotape. The title. The picture on the box. Yes, I'd been looking for something like this, but hadn't expected *this*. It was too close to my own fantasies. I knew I was going to watch it... well, a part of me wanted to watch it, but I was also nervous. Scared--it was as if I had waited too long for a moment just like this. What would it be like? Would I not like it? I'd known for a long time that I had some, shall we say, *wild* sexual desires. I'd noticed when I was a teenager that I found certain situations in movies fascinating. Well, I suppose I found them fascinating even before I was a teenager. By the end of high-school, they were definitely turning me on. It wasn't a big thing; just that I was drawn to those scenes: where the woman was completely at the mercy of some man. Or tied up. I never told anyone-- who would I tell? My boyfriend? Yes, well, it would have been great to have an understanding boyfriend to share something like that with. Or *any* boyfriend; I didn't date much--or you might say not at all: what was the closest thing to a date for *me* was tagging along with a group and maybe managing to talk to one of the guys for a little while. No, I've never *really* had a date. Sometimes I figure it's that I'm so shy and other times I figure it's my looks. Well, Mom says I look fine, though I *know* she'd like me to lose some weight. And my friend Connie told me if I lost the weight I'd look terrific. She certainly exaggerated: my face and hair are, well, average, or maybe better. And I really don't look bad: I'm only a little overweight and, well, my body is the right general shape even if my waist *is* too large. I'm clean and dress neatly, and manage to keep myself looking decent, considering. So maybe if I were skinny like Kate Moss, guys would overcome my shyness and get me to go out. Or maybe if I just weren't so shy, I wouldn't put them off. Do they have radar that says *shy woman--stay away*? I do see plenty of women who look no better than I do with dates and boyfriends and husbands. And the only guy who I can tell is interested in me is Gus, the custodian at work. So maybe my secret desire is exacerbated by my lack of a sex life. I'd observed my own response to movies and since I don't live with my head in the sand, I knew what it was that I was feeling. I'd seen the references on TV, cute innuendo in sitcoms, suggestive references in cop dramas, and read them in the occasional *Newsweek* articles. I certainly knew that there were other people interested in, well, kinky things like that, even though it all seemed far away from my own life. And I'd discovered *The Story of O*. Yes, I'd heard something about it, I don't know, in college probably, or I'd read something. But it was after college that I'd run across it in a bookstore and summoned the courage to take it t the sales clerk. I read that book. I couldn't believe what I was reading--I must have read all night that first night. I sat there thinking about how someone actually wrote these things down and now millions of people read it! It was like a dream: like that the book had been written especially for *me*! I realized that even though I'd never talked to *anyone* about it, that there must be tons of people who loved the same things. I read it again and again. Yes, I made myself come while reading it. Yes, there were some things in it that I thought were just silly, but other parts- -well, there were passages that I read over and over. I used to wonder: which of my acquaintances are into these things? Then, amazingly, I got a clue. It was a co-worker. Wendy didn't see me in her office door as she talked on the phone. "Uh huh," she said, then listened some more. Then she said "Yes, Master." That's what she said. Then it was "Bye." Then she turned around and saw me. She blushed so much. After too long a pause she finally said, "Uh, you caught me being sarcastic with Greg." Her boyfriend. I might have been blushing too. I left soon, after a short, awkward conversation. I sat at my desk, my mind racing. No! She had been too embarrassed just to have been caught teasing her boyfriend. They must talk to each other like that. It must be some kind of game or something; Wendy certainly seemed normal enough. That's the way it would be: if millions of people buy *The Story of O*, then they must be people who act just like the rest of us, except in their own private situations. The next time I saw Greg, Wendy's boyfriend, I found myself sneaking peeks at him. Wendy had called him *Master*. And I'd heard the tone of her voice: perfectly serious. I watched them for signs. Not a hint that they were anything but a typical couple. They must be playing their games very carefully while they were alone. Probably even more carefully after their close call with me. At least Wendy would be, I was sure. I couldn't help myself: whenever I saw Greg after that, I always thought about their games. I found myself thinking about Greg. He was a man who would definitely be willing to play such games with me if he and I were, well, a couple. I shouldn't dwell on him so much; instead I should find another man like him. But I was so far from any sort of relationship that I just found myself continuing to think about Greg. Then I heard it: they'd broken up. I lay in bed thinking. Greg was unattached. I knew where he lived and where he worked. I felt like fate wanted me to, well, get him. Ha! Bag him or whatever. As if I could ever do that. Send him signals so he'd come to me? Take the direct approach and go to him myself? Me?! But I still found myself thinking about it. A man who was into that sort of thing! I got to thinking that *maybe* I was actually going to do it! Me! Ask a guy out! All because the idea of becoming his *slave* had me so turned on! Would he go out with me? Sometimes I felt like I was being completely stupid: what chance did I have that he'd say yes? Did I like him? I didn't really know him! What I *could* do would be to offer him a casual sexual relationship. He was unattached--I *knew* he'd be open to it if he could be sure no strings were attached. I thought about it. A male friend--we'd be having sex sometimes just because we wanted to. He'd be the master. I'd be a slave. Could I do this? Just once, would I manage to bluster my way long enough to propose it to him? I only needed to get my courage up for the short time necessary to start things. I'd lay in bed, thinking about it. And again, the next night. That's me, thinking, and thinking, but never doing. And then I heard he was going with someone. I still thought about him, and Wendy. Two people I knew who were also *into it*. How about his *new* girlfriend? Maybe she was into it too. So there I was, back where I started, more or less. Maybe Greg would break up with his new girlfriend. When would I ever know about any ma what I'd found out about Greg? Then I'd found the tape. I was babysitting for my cousin Rachel, and well, I guess I'm nosey. The tapes weren't in the family room, at least these weren't. No, they were in the bedroom where I had no business looking. *Night of Bondage*. A woman on the cover, in a leather dress, her hands bound behind her, gagged, her legs tied. Ropes wrapped around her body. She was tied up so much, I couldn't believe it. It was actually a bit silly, but of course, I'd never seen anything *close* to what I was interested in. I played the tape. It consisted of a man tying up a woman, then untying her. And tying her up again. Not even any sex! It really was kind of silly. I wondered why I'd watched it all. I put the tape back and looked at the others. There was *The Story of O*! I couldn't believe it! It was on a bunch of cassettes. I immediately put the first one in the VCR. It was *much* better than the other tape, though it extended the story. I watched, nervously worrying about when Rachel and Dan would be back. Finally I had the tapes back in their place, and I found some movie on TV to be watching when they arrived. And I felt it again: knowing about yet another couple who were *into it*. I masturbated that night. I thought about Rachel, of all people, as Dan's slave! Now I knew *four* people who were into it. I had to see more of that movie: more parts to *The Story of O*. I'd never been in an adult section of a video rental place ever before. Would whatever place I chose have it? Could I ask for it? Finally, I phoned places and found one with it. I told them not to reserve it. But I did it: I went to the place and rented the next two in the series. And went back to that place, again and again. And I discovered *The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty*. And I read it and the whole trilogy in a week. Now I felt like I *knew* I wasn't so strange. For all the evidence you see that others like it too, you *still* worry, especially if you don't talk to anyone about it. But *that* changed soon enough. "So how'd you like the videos?" Rachel asked me one day when we were at lunch. "Videos?" I asked. Inside, I was wary. What was this about? "You know, Dan likes to set things up so he can *see* if anyone has touched our cassettes. *Especially* the babysitters." I gulped. "I guess he sort of gets off on knowing things like that," she continued. "Uh... I..." "Which one did you watch? Did you like it?" I didn't answer, but just stared at the table, embarrassed beyond belief. "Well?" she went on. I couldn't answer! I just couldn't get the words out! As if I'd ever have been able to talk to Greg! Finally she spoke again. "Come with me," she said. She left some money on the table, and dragged me outside. She drove. My car was still at the restaurant. We pulled up at her house. Dan was in the garage, working on something. We walked through and she motioned him to follow. "Baby's at Grandma's," she said to me quietly as she drew me in. "Now," she said, after she'd pulled me into their master bedroom, "want to see our toys?" I heard Dan somewhere in the house, walking around. "Rachel..." I found my voice, but only for a moment. I felt I *had* to stop this. She had something in her hand. Like a little strap. She put it around my wrist, then pulled my arms behind me and I felt her strap them together. Handcuffs of some kind. I just stood there. She was in front of me. Dan came in. He looked at me. Rachel whispered in his ear. I looked back and forth between their faces. Rachel was back, right in front of me. She was unbuttoning my blouse. Dan had some more straps and things. A whip! Blindfolds! Rachel had my bra off. "I think we should get to know each other a little better, Cousin!" she said. She pulled me into a kiss. I felt her tongue in my mouth. Suddenly she was off me and I was spun around and face down on the bed. I felt my pants being undone and pulled off. Someone was straddling my body, Rachel I figured. Fingers went between my legs. "Yep, she likes it," came Rachel's voice. --****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--****ATTENTION****--***ATTENTION*** Your e-mail reply to this message WILL be *automatically* ANONYMIZED. Please, report inappropriate use to abuse@anon.penet.fi For information (incl. non-anon reply) write to help@anon.penet.fi If you have any problems, address them to admin@anon.penet.fi