Message-ID: <7820eli$9801251944@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7820.txt>
From: Spoonbender <Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk>
Subject: The Beast (dildo)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Reply-To: "Theodore Spoonbender"@spoonbender.demon.co.uk
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <34cb978a.92454822@post.demon.co.uk>


The Beast!
********************************************************************
(c) 1997 Spoonbender. A story of an adult nature. Not to be read by
minors. If you don't like this sort of stuff or you are underage then
don't read. Contains bondage and some (virtually) consensual sex.  Can
be freely distributed as long as it is not changed, including this
heading. If it is to archived on a fee paying archive then please
email me first for permission. 
 Please email me with comments, constructive criticism, fantasies you
want put into words etc. Don't flame me if you don't like the content
or you don't like my style. 

My address is Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk. Please put the word
spoonbender in the subject line or my server will throw it out as
Spam. Thanks.
 ******************************************************************* 
 She  squirmed off the seat as the train pulled into her stop.
Carefully trying to pull the ludicrously short skirt down over her
naked crotch as she pushed herself forward, avoiding contact between
the tops of her thighs and the stiff fabric of the seat. Her legs were
parted slightly, cautiously not touching each other, which made the
job of hiding her charms all the more difficult. The man opposite
grinned as she inadvertently showed him the creamy downy softness of
her inner thigh and the shadow of her sex. She drew her legs together
by reflex as a deep blush settled over her cheeks. She immediately
wished she hadn't,  the beast reacted as it always did, snuggled into
it's cave it came alive with a relentless growling buzz, causing her
to gasp and spring her legs apart.  
 It was too late, the damage was done. 
 'Damn', she thought. She'd gone for nearly a week without a mishap,
then one moment of inattention and the slumbering beast was awakened.
Now she needed to tame it before it took possession of her completely.
She sighed, her shoulders slumped as she yet again came to terms with
what she must do. 
 She glanced around the carriage concentrating on the men and ignoring
the prim lipped middle aged woman sitting across the aisle from her.
There seemed to be no eligible young men who could come to the aid of
a maiden in distress. They all seemed so middle aged, so settled
so...she struggled for the right word in her mind...married! 
 The man opposite wouldn't have been her first choice, not by a long
way. He was forty something, grey and frowsty. He even wore a cardigan
under his threadbare suit, tie crooked, shoes unpolished.   He looked
seedy and down at heel, but, she reasoned with herself, at least he
was here and as an added bonus he too looked like he was getting off
at her stop. She had to do something, the writhing beast was fully
awake and would soon be stretching and ....She shuddered slightly, a
crimson blush spreading across her cheeks. She knew what came next,
yes and after that there were worse things, things that made her lose
control. In public, in private, alone or in a crowd the beast didn't
care it just owned her, took her and used her until she summoned the
courage to subdue it. 
 She sniffed to cover a rising sob, it was so damned unfair. She
couldn't tame the beast on her own, she needed a man and she knew what
she had to do in return.   Steeling herself she suppressed a shudder
as she tried to imagine this man, his thin bony hands on her soft,
white breasts. She shook her head once to blur the image, then forcing
a smile, she said. 
 'Could you please lift my case down?', she fluttered her eyelids and
glanced down in the docile appealing way that she found men liked. It
helped them to be more macho, and, she reminded herself, more helpful. 
 'Sure', he said, revealing a mess of stained teeth. She glanced
around hoping for one last time there was some hidden Adonis that
could take the place of this feeble thing. Now she was standing she
could see along the whole carriage and there was no-one else remotely
suitable. She imagined trying to talk one of the men, whose noses were
buried in the late editions, into a sordid adventure in the couple of
minutes before the train pulled out. She could carry on, but the next
stop was over an hour away and she didn't like to dwell on what the
beast would get up to, as she squirmed on her seat trying to avoid the
hostile stares of the middle aged harridan across the way. It was Mr
Nerd or nothing and nothing was too upsetting to contemplate. 
 She smiled bravely, her full red lips wanting to pull down, her hands
wanting to fist, her whole body wanting to scream. IT WAS SO UNFAIR! 
 He hefted the case down from the rack, raising a quizzical eyebrow as
he felt the weight and heard the faint tinkle of chains from within. 
 'There you go lady, would you like me to help you down onto the
platform with it?' He grinned, like an old cemetery and she suppressed
a grimace.  
 This was becoming really awful, but she had to go through with it
now, the beast was awake and when it was awake it demanded her whole
being and she didn't want it, not now, she was too tired. 
 'Please' she said and she headed for the door as the man tested the
weight of the case, tilting it forward to again hear the faint ching
from it's depths. He licked his dry lips as he admired her back. She
was about 5 foot 6 inches tall, with long , dark, straight hair that
hung virtually to her delicious bottom.   She had a perfect hourglass
figure, with 34 inch breasts over a 24 inch waist which flared again
to 34, before tapering down through her long slender legs. He watched
her striding out of the carriage, her hips wiggled like her backside
was chewing gum and her legs gushed from under the miniscule A line
red skirt. She was dressed like a tart, but he didn't think she was
one, she didn't have the brazen manner, the haughtiness that street
women adopted when they realised the power that they had sitting
prettily between their legs. Cunt power was all to those women, but
this was different it was as if he had the power in some way and she
was the supplicant.  
 She dropped to the ground and glanced back to see if he was
following. His groin lurched as he gazed upon her fresh young face.
Her eyes were large and grey/blue with sweeping lashes that brushed
her cheeks like thistledown when she blinked. Her cheekbones were high
and perfectly set and her mouth was made for sucking. He stopped
himself, he didn't want to visibly lust after her, he'd try playing it
cool. He hadn't had much luck with women and that luck had got worse
over the years, so he didn't think he'd have much of a chance to even
buy her a coffee and just chat never mind anything else. So getting
himself all worked up wouldn't help, he'd would then have to go and
buy a streetwalker and he'd vowed to give that up, after that last
episode. He was glad that they'd found a cure for Aids and saved a
rainforest, to think that one obscure little beetle with the right
proteins in it's hard carapace, had made sex safe again. He tried
changing his mind set, trying to avoid looking at her and imagining
her as one by one her clothes came off in his mind. 
 To his surprise she didn't stop and take the case from him, but
carried on across the nearly deserted concourse and out into the run
down neighbourhood that bordered the station. He was going to call
out, but something about her stopped him. Her walk was more hesitant
and her steps grew shorter. He drew alongside as she leaned her
forehead against a doorframe. He saw a shudder ripple through her
perfect young body and he said, suprisingly gently. 
 'Are you OK Honey?' 
 He saw her forehead was damp as she turned, eyes bright and round. 
 'Please help me' she said 
 His immediate reaction was that she was on some sort of high and he
was going to get rolled for the price of her next fix. He dropped the
case and his lips twisted into a sneer, she saw the look and gasped
quickly. 
 'Please I'll make it worth your while' then she shuddered again
realising that yet again she had surrended to the beast and to this
man. 
 He surveyed her for a minute, his brain turning over the
possibilities. She needed something that was for sure, but as she
turned and hung her head he saw that it wasn't a fix she was after.
He'd seen enough Junkies in this neighbourhood to suss out that this
chick wasn't after any fix. No she had a more primeval need and he
nearly pinched himself as he realised that he was the one she'd chosen
to placate it. He decided to play along to check it out. 
 'How?' he said, his voice suddenly hoarse with lust. 
 'You know' she said blushing furiously as the beast probed around
it's soft, wet velvet prison. 
 'No I don't ' he said, the shadow of a grin flickering across his
lips. 
 He thought he'd blown it for a minute as she glanced around, but all
she could see were a couple of Winos and they weren't going to be much
help to her. She tried to pull herself together and keep the distaste
from her voice. 
 'I'll do anything, anything at all, if you'd help me', her voice was
low and she fought back the tears for the umpteenth time as she
contemplated the pit she had again fallen into. Just one little
mistake, trying to cover her naked thighs from this odorous little man
and now she was proposing giving herself to him entirely, letting him
probe the depths which she had vainly tried to hide. A moments modesty
and the beast had struck. It moved at this point, underlining her
growing need. He must help, he must! it was not dark but there was
nobody around, nobody else to help her. 
 'Anything hey?' He said, suddenly in control. 
 'Yes' 
 He pondered for a minute coolly undressing her with his eyes as they
slowly travelled up and down her lean flanks. He reached up and
touched her right nipple with the knuckle of his index finger and she
recoiled slightly. 
 'Not here' she pleaded. 
 He immediately went on the defensive. He thought that this was some
elaborate sting and her boyfriend would come around the corner and
beat him up then steal his money. He could imagine her laughing at his
naivete as he sunk into unconsciousness, smirking at the thought that
he could even think about fucking her. 
 She saw his eyes harden. Shit she was losing it, why did men have to
make it so hard. He just had to do one little thing for her and she
make it up to him in spades.  
 'Please it's not like that' she said plaintively as the beast lunged,
it's buzzing deepening. 'Look I don't know this place, just take me
somewhere', she paused, '..where we could be alone, anywhere and I'll
show  you' 
 Still he hesitated, so she sought his hand and held it to her firm,
ripe, bra-less breast. 
 He wavered between lust and caution, finally lust won and he said
gruffly.   'OK, but if this is a shakedown then you won't be half as
pretty anymore' 
 'No, no it's not like that, please believe me' She virtually cried
out as the beast's lunges became more urgent. 'Quick, please'. 
 She felt like she was losing her mind, it was nearly a week and she
just wasn't used to it anymore. 
 He said 'This way' and he grabbing her hand he strode off in the
direction of some derelict shops. 
 She trotted alongside him, finding it increasingly difficult to walk
as the beast made her juices ooze down her legs. 
 He stopped at a door set in a row of shops that leaned drunkenly
towards each other. He creaked open the rotting door and pushed her
inside. For the millionth time she wondered how on earth she had come
to this, as he groped her breast, kneading it like dough under her
tight, black, tee shirt. She had once been a successful legal
secretary in a law firm in some far off city, she was destined for
great things her boss had said. Sexually she had been totally naive,
and a Virgin. Then she met Jean-Paul and that all changed when he
introduced her to the beast. Then her life was turned on it's head,
now she was no longer mistress of her own destiny, in control of her
life and of her body. Now she lived the life the beast wanted for her
and that included fucking this man. 
 He pushed her up the rotting stairs until they came to a large room
and he manhandled her inside, pushed the door closed and pushed a
wedge of wood under the door. Now it was the moment of truth.   She
held her hands up as if warding him off and said, dully.   'You'll
find ropes and shackles and stuff inside the case. After you have used
them please help me with this', she pulled up her skirt 'and then you
can do what you want'.  
 After she had showed him her crotch she saw his manner change. It was
always the same, first of all they were amazed, then intrigued and
finally they became brusque and businesslike. Whatever the guy was
like on the outside he was the same inside. The sight of a pretty
girl pleading with them to fuck her always had the same effect. This
guy was no different. 
 'Shit girly, what's happened to you' he mused, not expecting any
answer as he gazed at the harness that cinched round her waist and
disappeared through the down of her pubic fur, to plunge deep into her
crack. It looked like, and was, a high tech chastity belt. This then
explained why she was so desperate, or so he thought. 
 The real reason was out of sight, deep inside her. A state of the art
personal masseuse Jean-Paul had called it as she struggled to come to
terms with it's intrusive presence on that day so long ago. It was a
marvel of engineering, he'd ventured as he ushered out of his
apartment for the last time, guaranteed to train the most prudish of
women into finding out about the endless avenues of pleasure available
through the intelligent use of her body. It wouldn't rust, it wouldn't
break and it got it's power from the heat of her body. It could
vibrate and it could thrust, like it was doing now, it could even
twist.   Each time it came alive it was different and the only way to
stop it was to take it out and she needed a man for that. And she knew
the price she'd have to pay.  
 'Take your clothes off' said the man as he seated himself on a
rickety chair 'and let's have a good look at the problem' 
 Again she blushed, though Lord knows she had done this often enough
as she revealed her nakedness. 
 'Come here' he ordered and she complied, conscious of the faint
humming emanating from her crotch and the tang of her musk in the air.
'Now turn around' 
 She pirouetted and she could feel rather than see him as he fingered
the lock. Abruptly he stood up and snicked open the locks on the case
as she stood mortified in the bare and filthy room. He grunted as he
examined the manacles and coarse rope buried in her clothes. He spent
long minutes selecting the right equipment, stopping to hold up items
of clothing. There were various skirts and tops, some sluttish and
some school-girlish, but never any underwear. She'd worn panties once
she recalled, but had soon given that up. The problem was the beast
had a tail, a small plastic pole that stuck out from it's base and
when that tail was moved then the beast woke up and she just couldn't
wear loose enough panties. You just needed to touch it briefly and it
would lurch into life. As she stood there she tried to remember life
before the beast, but she couldn't. She certainly knew life with it as
it thrust unrelentingly inside her as the man rummaged through her
bag. She willed him to be quick and her silent cry was answered as he
stood up swinging four, black iron fetters from his hand. 
 Without a word he grabbed her wrists and snicked the heavy shackles
around them. They were a perfect fit, like they were made for her,
which she was sure they were, Jean-Paul was a perfectionist.   He then
pushed her over to an old radiator that hung, heavy and cold, from the
wall. The shackles placed on her ankles jerked her legs apart as she
snapped them around the farthest edges. She stood bound in iron as he
at last attended to her crotch. She could feel him wrestling briefly
with the lock and suddenly it sprang free. She often pondered on how
the men knew how to open it, because she didn't. There was some kind
of plate on the back of the harness but, even with the aid of mirrors,
she couldn't read it's legend. Then, blessedly, he pulled the beast
out of it's lair, the buzzing loud for an instant then falling silent.
She wondered how it knew it was out, she thought maybe that it was the
light, as she'd had it removed in the dark once and it was still
writhing and pumping as the man pushed it back in after satisfying
himself. She'd had to find another benefactor that night as the first
guy had refused to help her, he'd kept his side of the bargain and so
it was her tough luck. 
 She heard a rumble behind her and soon she was on her back with her
wrists chained to an old display freezer that he had hauled across the
room, his lust giving him the strength of ten. He stood and drank in
her spread and helpless nakedness before pulling off his tatty
clothes. She tried to think of other things as he mounted her, like
how that freezer that kept her pinned so effectively came to be here,
but then he was there and it hurt, even though she was sopping wet. 
 He was suprisingly large for such a small man and she wriggled and
writhed as she tried to accommodate him. His hands sought her breasts
which he squeezed and pulled as he slobbered kisses over her upturned
face. She wondered for the thousandth time if it was worth it as she
felt him swell inside her, his balls coming off her thighs as his
lunges became more urgent. 
 She whimpered quietly as she felt him gush into her unprotected womb. 
 It was so unfair. 
 He took ages to finish, he felt like a firehose inside her spurting
his sickly cream into her, pulling her hips down onto his crotch. Then
like a light switch had been thrown he slumped limply across her, his
weight pressing her hard against the filthy floor.   For a panic
stricken moment she thought he had had a heart attack or something,
but then he snuffled and slowly opened his eyes as his limp manhood
slithered from her.   'Nine months' he said then repeated it like a
mantra, 'nine months since my last..' he stopped as if seeing her for
the first time. Then a look of arrogant pride crossed his face as he
gazed down at her tear slick face. 
 He pushed himself up and then before she could react she felt the
beast re-enter her. Roughly he pulled the leg chains off and then
twisted her over as he snicked the catch into place imprisoning the
beast ready for it's next vengeful awakening. 
 She murmured in faint protest as she lay face down, carefully keeping
her thighs parted. This was the dangerous bit for her. He was
satisfied and couldn't be relied upon like he could when he was full
of lust. One young guy had replaced the beast as she lay tightly
spread-eagled and then he had deliberately flicked the beast's tail.
She had pleaded with him, to let her go or at least take out the
beast, but he just laughed, gagged her and then he left her alone. She
waited for a whole night before he came back with a group of older
guys. She had been more than willing to satisfy them, and she'd
pretended not to notice as her young captor pocketed the money they
handed to him. She was suprised, and grateful, when he let her go even
going as far as to thank him. A vision of a lifetime of helpless
sexual servitude in that dingy garage always came back to haunt her at
times like this. 
 She could hear him rummaging through her bag and she wondered what
she would wear this time. It was part of the ritual, written on the
harness tag she surmised, that they chose what she'd wear. Once the
case had contained sensible clothes, long skirts, power jackets.
Slowly her business clothes had disappeared, some men just took them,
others left her bound while they went out and bought outlandish
outfits which they made her wear. She was powerless to resist, one
flick of their fingers and she was back in a sexual stew. 
 He unclipped the shackles and pulled her to her feet. Silently he
handed her the black dress. It was an original and it hugged her like
a second skin, the hem exactly half way between the tops of her knees
and the junction of her thighs. 
 He watched as she wriggled into it, favouring her crotch. Then when
she had dressed he took one last look then left and she was alone. 
 Long ago she would have asked him his name, but now she didn't want
to know. Questions earned rebukes, spankings and even canings (She
carried  a cane with her for the purpose but she didn't know why on
earth she did) and now she was just stoical. 
 She repacked the case carefully wrapping the manacles in clothing to
stop them rattling as she squatted, legs wide apart, dress pulled up
so the bottom half of her body was bare. Then she went to look for a
bathroom. It was, like the rest of the building, filthy, but she used
it anyway. Squatting over the bowl carefully connecting the tube to
the beast. The Beast  really was a remarkable piece of engineering, it
had a spigot on it to which she could connect a pipe and using this
she could flush their sperm from her body and keep herself disease
free. But This was always such a delicate and dangerous  operation, so
when she felt the tail touch the back of her finger, she whimpered in
fear, but it didn't awaken. She breathed a long sobbing sigh as she
completed her ablutions.   She looked out of the grimy window on her
return to the room, but it was dark and she was afraid to leave. She'd
spend the night here. 
 She snuggled into the old sheepskin coat one of her men had bought
for her and she wondered where Jean-Paul was. He'd told her that when
she found him again, he'd remove the beast from her life completely.
It had taken her some time to comprehend what had happened to her and
by the time she had started to come to terms with her new life, he'd
gone leaving no forwarding address. He'd set up a bank account for her
into which he faithfully deposited an exact amount of money on a
certain day in the month. Due to her inability to work she'd come to
rely on it. Then the clues to his whereabouts came in, like a postcard
or a telegram, even instructions from strangers who sought her out on
the street. She chased each shadow, moving from town to town, hardly
realising where she was sometimes, always searching for the
beastmaster.   At times like this she would lay there, in the dark,
wondering how she managed to cope with it all.   The beast had total
control over her, even when she slept. Early on she'd learned to
cultivate the art of sleeping with her legs wide open. Settling down
to sleep was a ritual, that she carefully carried out every night.
First the thigh length leggings to keep her legs warm, then she'd
carefully pull the skirt or dress up, finally she'd carefully lay down
keeping her body parallel to the floor so the beast wouldn't be
started. So she slept, naked from the waist down and spread wide.
She'd also gotten used to sleeping on the floor, a couple of brushes
with rucked sheets had ensured that she always slept on something
hard. She vividly remembered those occasions, waking up to find that
something was fucking her. It was crazy but she always had at least
one good orgasm every time. To have a big vibrating prick pounding
into her in whatever position she was in was mind blowing when you are
only half awake. She could twist, turn, stand up, even do cartwheels
if she wanted to but still it bashed and twisted away. She'd been
fucked while jogging once. It was a windy day and she was wearing a
brief tennis skirt with no underwear, so when a particularly strong
gust blew her skirt it was sheer instinct to push the dress between
her legs. She couldn't stop because she was part of an early morning
pack, so she kept on running. It didn't bother the beast at all, it
just kept on fucking her and she had more orgasms then she could
recall and all the time she was part of a large crowd of power
joggers.   She learned how to orgasm quietly that day, but then again
even if she hadn't most of the other runners were wearing stereos so
they probably wouldn't have noticed as long as she didn't stop. She
did in the end though, she just ran out of steam, the orgasms taking
more out of her than the run. A schoolboy rescued her that day and she
took his cherry. 
 She couldn't work out if she hated men or not. Jean Paul was a man
and he had put her in this position, but she thought she really loved
him. Because of the beast she thought about him almost constantly, it
was a perpetual reminder of him. She'd also spent many months running
after him, like a lovelorn teenager, so he became like a holy grail.
The final thing was that he seemed to be the only one who could or
would remove the beast from her completely. 
 It seemed that the men just thanked their stars that she tumbled into
their path and repaid the luck by replacing the beast ready for the
next lucky guy. She would never ever trust a woman though.very early
on, when she was first getting used to the pole shoved inside her,
she'd decided to ask a women to help her because she might get a more
sympathetic reaction than the men would give her. A woman would
understand immediately what she was going through and would rush to
help her.   Strangely enough it took a long time for her to pluck up
the courage, she spent her time wandering around various shops
searching  for someone who wasn't too old (too many explanations) or
too young (they'd just laugh and tell their friends). Finally she
settled on a respectable looking middle aged woman. It took a lot of
courage to make contact and far more to convince her that to go
somewhere private to help out with a little problem. The lady had
clucked sympathetically when she saw the harness and tut-tutted when
she heard about the beast and what it did. She made a great play of
examining the label on the back of the harness, while she heard tales
about the manacles and what she'd had to do to earn a brief respite
from the beast. 
 Then the woman had suggested that they go somewhere private to sort
out the problem. As she did so she reached and flicked the tail with a
quick 'Oh sorry dear, I didn't think it was that sensitive', as the
beast roared awake. 
 After that it was easy to lead the beautiful young girl back to her
house in the suburbs. It had taken nearly an hour to reach the house,
all the time the girl was pleading for it to be done here, take it out
now please. The woman tutted, 
 'Oh no this is far too public, only a few more blocks dear, try and
hold out until then' Finally they arrived and instead of losing the
beast she walked into a nightmare. This woman had two idiot sons, ugly
and slow witted. The sort of kids you get when sisters and brothers
get together.   They'd  probably never fucked before, now mummy had a
present for them. All their wet dreams come to life with a beautiful
nineteen year old girl who was available and slooshingly ready. 
 She stayed there two days. Never before or since had she ever had sex
with the same guy twice. These guys were different, first of all it
was mummy coaching, then soon enough they were confident enough to do
it on their own. They took it in turns to fuck her and they unleashed
a couple of decades of suppressed lust into her beautiful young body.
When they were too tired to screw, mummy taught them to put the beast
back in it's lair and turn it back on. Mummy reasoned that this was
better than bondage as she wouldn't go anywhere with it pumping inside
her. Mummy  would have normally been right but in the end it she
preferred the throbbing beast to the slobbering idiots and she'd left
the house in the dead of night, steeling herself to ignore the rearing
phallus as she put as much distance between her and the terrible trio
as she could. 
 She'd never been near a woman since, she still couldn't believe that
such a respectable looking woman would have such depraved intentions.
From then on she just approached men, at least they were
straightforward just plain sex and she could at least understand and
deal with that. 
 The beast was dormant but he was stretched longer than she'd ever
felt it before. Every time it was taken out the beast just stopped in
whatever position it was in. Sometimes it was small and compact,
sometimes it was stiff and rampant. Tonight it was fully extended. She
explored it with her cunt, it was times like this that she thought of
it as a 'He' rather than an it as her velvet tube rippled along it's
length, seeking the shape trying to give substance to something that
she'd never seen but which was so real. In this way, and because she
had at least one exploratory session a day (some of which lasted an
hour or more and some of which she even did  in public - she'd become
quite expert at carrying on a normal conversation while her cunt
touched and probed the beast), the muscles inside her vagina had
developed a sensitivity that suprised her. At one time the beast was
just a lump, now she could test and explore it at any point she chose.
She also found that she had more control when she had sex.   Now she
could use her muscles to prolong or abbreviate the session depending
on how randy she was feeling, even if she was tied so tightly that she
couldn't move the rest of her body.   It felt strange, even after all
these months, to be penetrated while she held her legs wide apart,
especially when  there was no movement. It also meant that there was
no way she could get herself off, if she responded to it's
intrusiveness and she got horny. She had tried to move the beast
inside her, but it was useless as the harness was too tight. When it
was quiet it just lay there, not capable of being used to bring any
satisfaction, just a feeling of fullness, and on many occasions,
lustful excitement.   She found that she needed sex more. She couldn't
believe that it was possible to need sex, actually need it, rather
than just enjoying it when it happened, before she met the beast. Now
it kept her at such a pitch, by it's mere presence, that was always
just under boiling point. So on many occasions when the beast came
alive she was secretly glad. Once she had gone as far as to switch it
on herself.   That was a silly move. She'd done it in a hotel room,
she hadn't had sex for a few days and she was feeling horny. The
beast, unusually was totally contracted so she could hardly feel it.
All she really wanted to do was get to her clitoris, but in doing so
she nudged the lever. For a while it was glorious, but then when her
lust was slaked, she found she'd unleashed a monster that wouldn't
leave her alone.   At last she couldn't take anymore so she went out
in the middle of the night to find someone to put it back to sleep. It
was probably one of her worst experiences in this adventure. At 3 am
you don't find the great and the good on the streets of an industrial
city. But to a young girl with a sore cunt which had a thumping,
twisting, pulsing phallus inside it, the quality didn't matter too
much, just the availability.. What she found, she tries to forget, but
suffice to say that a group of Winos fulfilled a million fantasies
that night, those that could. She shuddered and tried to think of
pleasant things, like puppies and Jean Paul's face, so she became
drowsy. 
 After a while sleep overtook her.  
 She murmured fitfully as she dozed , calling the name of Jean-Paul as
she drifted off to sleep. 
 The next morning found her in the hotel that she'd been advised that
Jean Paul was at. The game had been going on so long now that they
scarcely thought of finding him, but she knew she must keep searching,
the beast by it's very presence told her so. She asked at the
reception about him and she was disappointed to hear that he'd checked
out just over an hour before. She felt like bursting in to tears, if
she had braved the night instead of sleeping in that dirty, cold
building then she could have come to the end of her ordeal. Why, oh
why, hadn't she come straight here, what was she afraid of? getting
raped? hardly! she'd give herself freely with the right encouragement,
getting mugged? no she had nothing worth stealing. 
 Oh well it was another disappointment, she just consoled herself with
a hot shower.   She decided to ask the man in reception about whether
Jean-Paul had left any clues as to where he was going. Walking there
she met a couple of slutty looking girls who appraised her with hard,
professional eyes. One of them spoke as she drew level. 
 'Hey, you're Jean Paul's girl aren't you', she started as the
prostitute continued,'...he told us about you' 
 'You know Jean-Paul?' she asked breathlessly, 'Do you know where he's
gone?' 
 'Naw, he's long gone, but don't worry we know how to take care of
you', the second whore said. 
 With that they grabbed her arms saying, 'come with us and we'll get
rid of your little problem' 
 She could hardly believed that this was happening, these streetgirls
were going to free her. But how did they know? did Jean Paul tell
them? did this mean that he'd freed her? She so desperately wanted to
see him, to thank him. 
 Once in her hotel room the girls took no time at all in pulling off
her dress and yanking the beast out.   But before she could react they
overpowered her. Her brief moment of freedom, no bondage and no beast,
was over as they held the wailing girl down as they chained her into
the tight spread-eagle that she knew so well. They even tied a balled
up skirt into her mouth before climbing off the bed. They looked down
on her, laughing as she struggled and cried. She'd been so close, yet
so far. One of the whores bent down close to her ear and said. 
 'What Jean-Paul told us gave us a few ideas of our own. Why should we
work our tails off when there's a fresh young cunt ready to fuck for
us'. She reached down and cruelly tweaked a nipple, 'You have just
become a whore babe and we're gonna acts as your managers' 
 The other girl laughed and said. 'Yeah cunt, we'll hook 'em and
you'll fuck 'em'. They both laughed at this witticism before leaving
to put it into practise. 
 She spent a tortured afternoon, with every sound she became convinced
that there was a huge party of men on the way to settle between her
splayed thighs. But no-one came and so as the afternoon wore on her
fear took another turn as she imaged the girls arrested or worse and
she'd be left like this. The door crashing open around dusk nearly
made her pee herself in fright. All she could see was the outline of a
man with the hotel lights behind him. 
 She steeled herself for the inevitable. 
 Then suddenly it was Jean Paul, covering her in kisses and releasing
her from her shackles as he railed against the whores that had done
this to her. She clung to him like a leech as her limbs came free. 
 They made love, for the first time in months she had sex because she
wanted to and she revelled in it.   She'd had orgasms before with the
men she encountered and sometimes with just the beast, but it was
nothing like this. Afterwards she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep
but her legs stayed wide open. 
 'You see that girl?', Jean Paul indicated out of the window towards a
tall statuesque blond who was languidly leaning against his red
Jaguar. She nodded. 
 'She doesn't know it but she's going to get aquainted with the beast
tonight.' He turned to her and continued, 'I hope she looks after him
like you did' 
 Despite herself she blushed, but her newly won freedom was like a
heady drug and she felt like hugging herself with the wonderful,
liberating independence. 
 'So you just pack up and be ready to leave when I come back'. Then he
left. 
 She hummed as she got all her stuff together, she tried to watch the
TV as she waited for him but she was too excited. They were going
somewhere, anywhere it didn't matter where, she didn't really know
where she was now,  so anywhere would do. But most important of all it
was as a free woman, with her dream lover. She had a fleeting moment
of pity for the beautiful blond, but she suppressed that feeling glad
that it would never again be her. No, she wouldn't even remove it for
the girl (hell why shouldn't she feel it's weight in her belly?), She
even knew how. She'd seen the harness when she had woken up, she
carefully ensured that the beast was covered as she didn't want to see
that. But her curiosity was becoming too great and she knew that she
must see how the lock worked that had imprisoned her for so long and
she must read the instructions. The lock was simple to open, it wasn't
even a true lock, just a partially concealed button that she'd failed
to notice because she was looking for something more complicated. The
label was an even bigger shock, instead of the detailed instructions
that she'd expected there were just two words: 
 ENJOY YOURSELF! 
 Jean Paul arrived very late and they left immediately. They drove
through the night as she snuggled up to him. As the sun was coming up
she ventured. 
 'Can I ask you a question?' 
 'Sure' he said. 
 'When you left her was she wearing panties?' 
 'No' he said looking puzzled and then his face cleared as he
understood, 'No but she was putting them on, nice tight ones'. He
laughed out loud and she snuggled deeper into his side, smiling to
herself as she imagined the blond desperately searching out some
frowsty middle aged man, with bad teeth, who  could take care of 'a
little problem' for her and in return she'd do anything. 
 ******************************************************************** 
 FOOTNOTE: I'm looking for a lady who enjoys my type of writing and
who is prepared to colloborate with me on future stories. You will
naturally share the credit, such as it is. If you are her. Then please
email me at Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk 
 Theodore Spoonbender. 
 


-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/><http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>