____________________________ | | /)| KRISTEN'S BOOKSHELF |(\ / )| DIRECTORIES |( \ __( (|____________________________|) )__ ((( \ \ > /_) ( \ < / / ))) (\\\ \ \_/ / \ \_/ / ///) \ / \ / \ _/ \_ / / / \ \ o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of o o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o o betical directories. o o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen Becker o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o The Bet (MF, bd) by John Carter (c) 1990 ***** Her arms were tied to the corner posts of the bed. At the moment they were just restrained. There was no pressure unless she tried to pull away. The teri-cloth belt from each of their robes held her in place more firmly than she would have imagined. Her feet were bound to something that kept her knees apart, wide apart. She wasn't sure what it was, but a broom stick was her current guess. The blindfold left her no clue that didn't come in from another sense. It was quite effective. Somehow the stick held her feet not only apart, but down. She couldn't tell how it did that. Was it tied to the bottom of the bed? Mike had blindfolded her before doing anything else so she wouldn't know what was going on. The bet seemed serious now. It was still fun, but there was an edge of determination and a small one of fear. What would he do to get her to give him the combination? The chest at the foot of the bed was sealed with a combination padlock. She had bought it this morning and hidden the combination under the silverware divider in the drawer in the kitchen. The numbers swam in her head: Five-fourteen-nine. Would she be able to keep the combination secret until midnight? The thought of that filled her with the oddest series of sensations. She was naked, of course. He was allowed to do anything that didn't leave a mark, with the understanding that whatever he did couldn't have as it's basic purpose causing pain. He could swat her ass, but only as part of something else, not to cause her to tell because of the pain. Or as he'd put it, "I can make you come so much that you'll do anything to get me to stop." Her eyebrows had gone straight up at that. It was an extremely rare event for her to tire out before any boy she had ever slept with had run out steam. She was almost always ready for more. The only times she could remember not wanting to continue had been in the extremely early morning after a very full day. Today she was rested. She'd slept late. She expected to enjoy this and then to win the bet. Put simply, the loser would have his or her pubic hair removed as the penalty for losing. She couldn't help grinning as she thought of him on his back, legs spread, with foam over his crotch as she said, "Let's be very still. We don't want any accidents down here, do we?" The idea of shaving his scrotum especially appealed to her. Something cold hit her left breast. It was only a drop of water, but being blindfolded she had no warning of it's approach. It felt much more shocking and ... sort of painful because of the surprize. A second drop hit her on the other side of her breast. A second later a very cold drop hit her nipple. She could feel it harden as the water slowly ran off. She heard a small sound near her night table. (The ice cube being put in a glass?) Mike's mouth fastened on her left nipple. Again it was unexpected. This had an effect too. Mike was very good at this and knew how sensitive her breasts were. She could feel the familiar desire for him to go on building in her stomach. It had been 5:30 when he had started blindfolding her. Holding out till midnight might be fun. A small moan escaped her lips as his hand lightly pinched her right nipple. His hands continued to tease her breasts. Each contact came as a surprise because fo the blindfold. The warmth in her stomach kept moving lower. Two things were happening. Her mound was crying out to be touched and, even without a touch, she could feel an orgasm building. She wanted to cause some friction on her sex. Her feet were tied apart so well that this was impossible. Without a thought on her part, her hips began to move. He seemed to know how close she was. He would slow down or remove his hands whenever her orgasm began to approach too quickly. She loved the delicious tension of it. He placed the flat of his hand on her stomach just below the ribs. Spreading his hand out as far as he could he slowly began to move down her abdomen. His hand had not even reached her pubes when she began to come. She was fairly quiet, but she knew it was obvious to him what had happened. All contact ceased. She spent a moment waiting for him to begin again. The cold drop of water fell on the edge of her slit. For the next few seconds all of her senses were concentrated on her sex. The second and third drops accentuated it. He began rubbing her stomach, his hand coming dangerously close to her sex, but never actually doing more than brushing the top of her pubic hair. Again she felt her hips begin to move. She had expected that it would be easier to hide what he was happening to her body because of what he was doing to her. Her body was betraying her again. When his hands began to rub the inside of her thighs, she began to moan again. He kept approaching her sex, but not quite touching it. He shifted position, she could feel the bed depress beneath her. He was between her legs. She felt his hands sliding up and down her thighs. He was rubbing, firmly but gently, the inside of her thighs, beginning at the knees. His hands massaged the muscles beginning just inside her knee, progressing slowly up her thigh. When he began, his hands barely went half way up her thigh. She was amazed at how much this focused her attention on her sex. Each time his hands came a half inch closer, she was terribly aware of the closer intrusion. She tried pulling her knees together, but she was bound too well. She couldn't help herself. She tried several times, reveling in the contact and the inability to protect herself from his attentions. When he had closed to within inches of her sex, she found herself trying to stretch down to meet his fingers as they rose higher. She was doing it for the third time when she became aware of it. When his fingers finally touched her sex, she found that she was embarassingly wet, and very near orgasm, having been touched only once. He knelt between her legs. His hands ran back and forth in ever shrinking circles between the top of her pubic hair and the bottom of her slit. A circle with his hands and he was travelling within her pubic hair all the time, only pausing briefly at the bottom of her slit to tantalize and tease her before moving on. Each hand mirrored the movements of the other. They travelled up the sides of her sex, diverted into the forest of her hair and then back down until they met at the bottom of her slit. Three, four, five more times he repeated the maneuver, each time the distance between his hands shortened. On the next pass his fingers did not stray out into her hair. Instead, they travelled up the inside of her slit, running along in her wetness, pausing at the top of her sex just over the clitoris, brushing it oh so briefly, and then decended back to the bottom of her slit only to begin again. She found herself moaning. She wasn't sure how long she could stand this. The sensation wasn't yet all that intense, but her state of arousal was. Without any thought on her part, she found her hips moving, trying to increase the contact on her clitoris as his forefingers passed over it. She was wondering how long she could stand this when he broke off the pattern, one long finger sliding into her hole. The feeling of contact was so intense from this, as intense as she could ever remember it being, that she felt her orgasm begin almost at once. Her fear was that he would remove his finger, stopping her orgasm. She tried to thrust her hips at him, making a sound that was beyond a moan, nearly a snarl. His finger was replaced with two, both not only meeting her thrusts, but rubbing her g-spot at the same time. She felt that the whole center of her being was turning to water. The orgasm began in her loins and radiated. Each time she felt her orgasm begin to subside he increased the force of his thrusts. It seemed to just go on and on. She was running out of breath. She felt the room swim around her. Had she not been blindfolded, her eyes would have refused to focus. "And what's the first number?" she heard him say. She was only able to moan in reply. "I wonder how long you can keep coming?" she heard him say. "How much do you want to keep the first number secret?" His fingers concentrated even more on her clit. She had begun to enter a transition phase where she wasn't so much coming as she was going into sensation overload. When he would speak, she didn't always focus on the first few words. As she tried to catch her breath, which was becoming more difficult, she found herself struggling against all of her bonds. It was nearly 9 minutes later when she told him the first number was 5. He left her for a time, basking in the warm feeling that spread through her body. She became aware of his presence when something soft touched her stomach. It was neither cold nor warm but it was very soft and, comforting. He placed it just above her navel. It seemed larger than a hand and longer than it was wide. For a time it just lay there, without any real weight or pressure. A slight feeling of pressure came first, followed by movement. He was gently moving it across her stomach in small circles. With movement came definition. It was furry, like a small mink towel or a rabbit skin. It was larger than the hand that moved it and it felt very good whatever it was. He began by rubbing the area between her navel and rib cage. One one circle he went from her left side, up her side, past her breast, just touching the side for a second or so as it went by, continued up her torso to her neck, and up her left arm. He stopped at her tied wrist and slowly made the trip back down, passed across her chest above her breasts and went up her right arm. He continued back and forth several times, sometimes going over her neck and the bottom of her face, other times passing over her breasts, never quite touching the nipples. Again, it was relaxing and stimulating at the same. As he continued she realized he was again teasing her, continually coming close to her nipples, never reaching them. He changed the pattern without warning and was again going over her stomach, having gone down her right side. He repeated the old circular pattern, continuing it for a couple of minutes at least. She became aware of how difficult it was to keep a time sense without any reference. How long had she been here? (How many times had she come?) How late in the evening was it? Was it even dark yet? How long could she keep the last two numbers secret? He broke off the pattern again, and went over the sides of her breasts. Going between them in a figure eight, then circling one, then the other and then back to a figure eight, he began to really get to her. It had gone from being relaxing to arousing somewhere up on her arms, and now she actively waited for him to use the fur on her nipples. He would come up just so high on her breast, always stopping just short of her nipples. It began with him stopping inches from them, then an inch from them, then less than an inch. She tried not to react, not to moan again, not to encourage him, but it escaped her when he finally ran the fur over each of her nipples in turn. He may not have noticed it. It was quiet and he was kissing her as she moaned, his tongue invading her mouth. After he'd stopped running the fur over over her breasts and had returned to her stomach, she noticed the lingering taste of mint and realized he'd brushed his teeth before beginning to work on her. He began doing what he'd done to her arms to her legs. His hand passed down her left leg, going all the way to her foot. The fur did interesting things to the bottom of her foot. He travelled back up the inside of her leg, parting from it only inches from her sex and travelled back down to her right foot. Then the thought occurred to her, He was going to play the same game with her down there that he had played with her breasts. A quick intake of breath followed that thought. And he did. He played the game of approaching her sex, coming closer by millimeters at each pass. When he could not possibly come any closer, and her loins were on fire, he circled her mound. She was amazed at how sensitive her stomach had become. "We both know you're going to come now." she heard him say. "We both know I don't have to touch you any more than I am now." She knew he was right. She had waited for the touch on her sex, for his finger, or she had hoped, his member sliding up her incredibly slick opening. She felt herself blush as she thought that he could easily have been watching every movement of her sex, literally looking directly inside her as she became more and more aroused. The sound of his voice caused it to start. She felt herself coming. She wanted to curl up, to hide what her sex was doing from him, but bound as she was, she could hide nothing. Not knowing where he was, she could not know if he was observing her face (what she must look like), her body, or directly into her sex. She imagined him watching her vagina opening and closing, out of her control. The thought made her orgasm more intense, and at the same time his voice gave her something between a command and play by play announcing of her reactions. She realized that for the moment she was the center of his universe, all of his attention was focused on her. Just now, nothing other than her gyrations, her squirmings, her movements were important to him. Yes, it was grand! He kept her either coming or close to it for some minutes. It was less intense than the last one, but somehow more delightful. When he allowed her to stop, she breathed a sigh of relief. It didn't last. She had barely thirty seconds before he used his bare hands on her breasts. He knew how aroused she was and used it, playing her like a violin. He had her coming, even more powerfully within seconds. After a full minute of orgasm (He had timed it by the night stand clock) he asked her for the second number. She refused. He forced her to remain either on the brink or in an orgasm for the next four minutes, then he asked her again. This time she refused, but was not able to concentrate enough to stick out her tongue as she had last time. He asked her a third time as his finger entered her exceptionally wet and very ready vagina. She was able to hold off three more minutes (and four orgasms) before telling him the second number was fourteen. He continued to make her come for an additional five minutes telling her that proper young ladies didn't stick out their tongues at gentlemen. She wondered how late it was. It must be several hours now. She was surprised at how intense her last set of orgasms had been. The last one had started so slowly and had been so strong at the end. She felt something small resting on her stomach. A moment late she felt a second object resting near it. As before, she couldn't place it from the limited contact. Something touched her side. This was still fairly soft, but compared to the fur it felt very stiff. This firmer, stiffer touch went up her side. If she listened very intently she could hear it make contact with her side each time it was moved forward. It went up her left side, making a short detour up the line of her ribs and then continuing back up her side. The warmth in her loins hadn't quite extinguished itself after his last episode. It began coming back to a boil almost immediately. How long had she been here? Her vagina ached for him, not his finger, not his tongue (and where had that been, she pouted) but his cock, hard and strong thrusting into her. The feeling slowly became an ache. It had been there all the time. She was only now becoming really aware of it. He was now scratching <?>, brushing <?>, rubbing <?> the side of her breast. He was going around it in circles, not ever touching her nipples. What was that he was using? --------------------------------------------------------------- He took the pastry brush again to her breast. The skin reacted to the soft filaments passing over it. He watch the goose flesh appear as he passed over. When he had the the left nipple completely hard he moved on to the right one. He began at her ribs, slowly moved in circles up the crest of her right breast, and with not the least bit of hurry approached her nipple. He looked on, watching her nipple harden. He shifted on the bed. Again his shorts were binding his member. With his free hand he made an adjustment. The Ice on the back of his neck was calming him down after each installment, but it's effect was lasting a shorter period with each application. He wondered how long he would be able to keep his cock in his shorts and out of her. When she had begun moaning last time he had nearly forgotten about their bet. He was beginning to wonder which of them would give in first. He shifted again, trying to find a position where his shorts didn't bind. He looked at her body, totally helpless before him and knew if he were to enter her he'd wake up tomorrow without a hair below his navel. -------------------------------------------------------------- She felt the fire in her loins grow. There was a second fire in her chest, beneath her breasts. She couldn't imagine being as cool as he was being if she were doing this sort of thing to him. She was amazed at his self control. And what was he using on her breast? One of the objects on her stomach fell to the side of the bed. She felt it on her left side. It was hard, and perhaps three inches long. It seemed to be rectangular with each of the remaining sides less than an inch long ... which described everything from a ball point pen to a chisel. "If you were able to see what was on your stomach you'd be at least a little apprehensive, maybe even frightened." Came his voice, soft like a silk scarf running along your leg. "What the hell was that thing?" She wondered. Her arms were tied above her at the head of the bed. Her feet were tied to a pole <?> two or three feet apart and that was firmly fastened in some way to the bottom of the bed. She was naked of course. She had lost track of the number of times she had come. She'd already given him two numbers of the three digit combination. Her ability to withstand whatever he was doing or going to do would determine which of them had pubic hair come the dawn. Her nipples were extremely sensitive at the moment. He'd used something that (brushed?) her breasts and had touched every square millimeter of her flesh except for the nipples themselves. Not only were her loins on fire, desperate to have him penetrate her, but her breasts were equally needing of attention. "I want you to know no matter how much you would worry, I've made sure they are not TOO tight." Again his soft voice played on her. He found himself staring at her body for seconds at a time without realizing that he had lost concentration on the problem at hand. His cock was as hard as he could stand. Her smell maddened him. He bit down on his knuckle to allow him to focus again. He quietly took a deep breath and went back to work. One of his bare hands touched her stomach. He gently scratched her just below the navel with his nails. His hand drifted down a little lower, just touching the top of her hair. The gentle scratching continued. "I intend to carry out the rules of the bet to the letter, and WHERE POSSIBLE, minimize your pain." The hand drifted down further into her pubic hair. The rough contact on the sides of her breast continued. He would halt one, keeping it in contact while the other began to move. In this way her focus kept switching from place to place, but without any calming of the fires his touches were exciting. His hand drifted down. All of his fingers were in the hair on her mound. He forced her to focus on the lack of attention her clit and her pussy were getting. She successfully stifled a moan. His hand cupped the whole area of her sex, touching all of the exterior surface, penetrating her not at all. "When I put this on your breast, I want you to come. Do you understand?" She refused to respond. If she answered, she knew that he would easily be able to bring her to orgasm with his voice alone (yes, she was as horny as that). She closed her eyes tight and pretended to hear nothing. "I have Ice in the kitchen if you need encouragement to answer my questions." As he spoke his index finger insinuated itself into her slit, not really penetrating her, only touching her wetness. Not penetrating her was very difficult. The ice from the kitchen would be helpful now, pressed against the back of his neck, the melted water trickling down his back. "Being tied during this was the easy part," he thought. "Knowing that she was ready, wet, and eager and there for the taking without taking advantage, now that was the difficult part." She stuck her tongue out at him again. "I understand." she said, amazed at how husky her voice sounded. He reached down and picked up the clothes pin. He had stretched it's spring earlier to make sure that it didn't pinch too tightly. As he attached it to her hard left nipple, he was pleased to note that she first grasped in pain before being overcome by the intensity of the sensation. He heard the familiar sound of her orgasm as he attached the second one to her right breast. She was overcome by the sensations. His hand was replaced in her awareness by the points of pain/sensation on her nipples. She found herself thinking, "They hurt so good!" as she was washed away by the feeling. Somehow she knew that they only felt tight, that the sensation was mostly from her nipples' hardness, not from the squeezing they were receiving (from WHAT?). And of course, she was coming. She was not even aware of the sound coming from her throat, the low sound of a woman in the throws of passion. The orgasm seemed centered in her brests. She squirmed under the unrelenting sensation that the clothes pins placed on them. She was totally bound, totally immobile, and still she squirmed. When he began moving his hand, she didn't begin coming harder, she just reached a new plateau of sensation, the orgasm no longer centered in one place. Instead her whole body seemed to be coming. She could feel her vaginal opening throbbing less than an inch from his finger, begging for attention. She could feel an orgasm that seemed to radiate from her whole being. Watching her toss and turn as she came was getting to be too much for him. He could actually see her vagina opening and closing; thinking about how that would feel on his cock was too much for him. "I should have brought the ice from the kitchen" he found himself thinking. As he touched her clit, she heard him say, "And the final number?" She bid down on her lip to avoid answering. She knew somehow that this was unfair. She wasn't sure how, but she couldn't remember being this high before, hadn't thought that there would be a way for him to use her body against her this effectively. "And when you tell me what the last number is, I'm going to go down on you until you beg me to stop." Something higher pitched than a moan escaped her. For a moment she couldn't remember the last number, but seconds later she said a single word, "Twenty-two." Seconds later, the clothes pins still on her nipples, she felt his tongue going up and down her slit. Of course she came again instantly, and very strongly from this. She thrust her loins against his mouth, trying to get his tongue to replace the cock she desperately wanted. His left hand gripped her ass. For a short time she simply reveled in the sensation of his contact with her then she felt her left leg free. She nearly wound it about him. The freedom after her confinement was incredibly powerful. Moments later her right leg was also free. Both of his hands gripped her now. After a particularly powerful orgasm, he pulled away and then was on top of her, in her. Still blindfolded, she could only feel him, noting that his shorts were still on, only pulled down a bit at the sides. "He couldn't wait." she thought. He was terribly aroused. He could only last a couple of minutes before he exploded in her belly. He collapsed and lay on her for a moment. His hand slipped up and untied her arms, lastly taking off her blindfold. Blinking into the light she saw that the clock now said 11:58. It changed to 11:59 as she watched. She wound her arms around him cradling him until she saw the clock change again. It was reading 12:05 when they sat up. "Do you want me to use something like NAIR or just a razor?" He asked. "Shouldn't you try the combination first?" She grinned at him. He tried the lock a second time. Of course, it refused to open. Each time he glanced her way she was grinning. She refused to speak to him. Instead she just took his shoulders and laid him down in her old space on the bed. She tied his hands to the two corners of the headboard, and with a little more difficulty, tied his knees apart with the board at the foot of the bed. Giving him a long lingering kiss, she blindfolded him and left the room. As she had tied him, he had become hard again. He was pleased to have thought up the blindfold, though more pleased to have used it than to have felt it's disorienting effects. Her smell was still strong in the room. As he noticed it, he could feel himself becoming harder. He was glad the bet had limited her winnings. He knew he couldn't have stood the amount of teasing that she had evidently taken in stride. He could hear the shower running. It went on for some minutes. He could smell her scent still on his lips. It was very tantilizing to be aroused (physically), have her smell on himself and not to be able to touch himself. The shower stopped. He heard her enter. A moment later he felt a hot wash rag wrapped around his cock and balls as well his lower stomach. He could feel the warmth from the wet cloth seeping into his loins. There was a gentle tugging and the sound of scissors at work. He felt each section of his pubic hair trimmed in this way. This was followed by a second warm wet cloth going over the trimmed area in a wiping motion. He heard her soft steps going to the sink in the bathroom and water running. As she returned, she said, "Try not to wiggle. We don't want any accidents now do we." What was worse was that she giggled as she said it. He felt a cool lime foam spread over his lower abdomen. His erection continued unabated. He felt the razor shave the hair as she worked her way from right to left on his pubes. She seemed to take delight, judging from the odd giggle, in gripping the base of his shaft and pulling it to one side to allow a smoother, more thorough trim. At the half way point she put the razor down and gripped his balls in one hand and his shaft in the other. "Are we having fun yet?" She tried to say it with a stern voice, but couldn't keep the correct tone. Regardless of what he thought of the proceedings, she was certainly having her own fun over this. "I don't know that 'fun' is exactly how I'd describe it ..." he began. His train of thought was interrupted by her mouth beginning to envelope his straining member. After a few seconds she released it. "Just how would you describe it?" Without waiting for an answer, she went back down on his member. Her teeth gently stroked the sides of his cock. "Its an odd feeling. Kind of kinky, and a little bit scary." Coming up for air, she asked, "How is it scary?" "Part of it is your having that razor next to my privates, part of it is just being bare there. I've never had this done before. It's going to really feel weird." Taking his cock from her mouth, she picked up the razor and continued her work. Working slowly, she had the area above his cock smooth in a few more minutes. Her constant use of his cock as a lever helped to insure that his attention was firmly pressed on the task at hand. She put the razor down, slid her body along his until her mouth was next to his. She kissed him, sliding her tongue deep into his mouth, running her hands over him at will. "Now, I want you to be a good boy and be very still for this next part." Her left hand slid back, gripping his cock. "It would be very funny taking you to the Emergency room if I slipped, but it will upset my plans for the rest of the evening. Will you try and hold still." "Yes. I'll try." His voice was rasping, barely under control. "I'm glad you're going to be a good boy." she answered, kissing him again, never relinquishing her grip on his straining member, her thumb running back and forth over the head. She spent over a minute slowly slinking back down his body. Getting off of the bed, she wiped down the area she had shaved with the cooling wash cloth. Taking it and the razor to the sink, she rinsed both of them in warm water. She wrung out the cloth and returned to the bed again. Taking his shaft and scrotum, she bathed them with the warm cloth. Giving his cock a kiss, she began shaving the hairs at the base. She took extreme care. The process of shaving his cock took nearly five minutes, by itself. There were no nicks. Had he been able to see her face, he would have known how seriously she was taking the project. As it was, her wistling, 'Singing in the Rain', slightly off key, gave him no such confidence. When she was finished, she took the whole length of his member into her mouth, reveling in it's smoothness. She found one rough area. She applied more shaving cream to it and trimmed the last of it's stubble. She wiped it down carefully with her wash cloth. When she was satisfied it was smooth, she double checked the entire base with her tongue. She ran her left hand over his cock and now bare abdomen. "How does that feel?" she asked. It took him several seconds to answer. "It feels really strange. It feels like I'm more naked." Her hand continued to stroke him, "It feels like I'm totally helpless. If I wasn't tied up, I'd have told you to stop. I wouldn't have ..." Her thumb smearing a drop of emission from the tip of his cock over the head caused him to falter, " ... have the nerve to go through with it on my own." She took his cock totally in her mouth. Now it was completely smooth. Releasing it, she said simply, "Now you hold still. This part will be more difficult." Ten minutes later she had his scrotum smooth as well. She took an extra few minutes to trim the hair on his legs where it would rub against his cock and balls. She enjoyed it so much that it was hard to know where to stop. She took a pause every couple of minutes to suck on his nice clean cock, or whenever she judged he was about to object. A couple of times she took his balls in her mouth, amazing herself at how different it felt to do this with no hair to get in the way. At last she trimmed, with great care, the area between his scrotum and anus. Then, deciding that he had, after all, been very good, she untied him, placing a finger on his lips as he began to speak. She took his cock in her mouth, cupped his balls in her hand, and penetrated him with her finger as she sucked on his long suffering cock. After a moment she shifted position and placed her furry sex over his mouth as well. She began pumping into him in time with the bobbing of her head.