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From: begonespam@aol.comdom (Adrian Hunter)
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Subject: {ASSM} Association The Orbit (excerpt) by Adrian Hunter and Chelsea Shepard (bd)
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Date: Sat, 11 Mar 2000 19:10:17 -0500
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The following is an excerpt from part two of our novel-in-progress, all of
which can be read at:
http://www.geocities.com/~adrianhunter
Once the roaring sound of the car had died away in the distance, I allowed
myself to slump into the chair and relax. What a day! I couldn't remember
having so much fun for years. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warm rays of the
setting sun on my face, and began to hum a song somehow inspired by my latest
adventures in the studio.
"These boots are made for walking..." It was nice to hear my voice again. It
had been days since I hadn't spoken any other word but "yes, please," and
today, in my gag-free condition, I had had a pretty hard time controlling
myself not to voice out the comments that spontaneously came to mind.
"...that's just what they do..." What would my life be like in three days? I
went on musing. I was no longer the woman I used to be. I had new needs, new
desires. I could no longer hide that simple truth: I was beginning to enjoy the
game.
"....these boots are made for walking..." Well, part of it at least. I still
hated the pony training he submitted me to. That was so degrading. And so
exciting too, said a tiny voice at the back of my mind. Shut up, I yelled at
myself, there's nothing exciting about wearing a harness and being whipped at.
Or is there?
"...wawa...wawawa... walking..." I knew what I'd do once I'd be out of here. I
would first look for information on those weird sexual activities. The internet
would probably be a wonderful tool in that respect. What would I start the
search with? Bondage? Whip? Slave?
"...and one of these days, these boots..." Then I'll move from there. I might
find partners to play with once in a while. Partners who would see to my
pleasure, not have me canter around in a dirt ring, or leave me tied up all
night, another ordeal I dreaded here. Partners I could still control.
"But is it really what you want?" came back the little voice. Oh, gimme a
break, I scorned. Yes, this is what I want. I'm not insane. I'm not spending
the rest of my life with my wrists permanently cuffed and only two words at my
disposal. And that's when I'm a good girl.
."..are gonna walk..." I visualised the thought. And felt a stir in my loins.
Why did my body always have to react this way? The flush of arousal reminded me
of the horse ride, and how Adrian had brought me so close to release. And
then...I sighed and squirmed in my chair. I instinctively directed my fingers
down to my sex, but the chain holding my hands to the arm of the chair was too
short to allow me to touch it. So I moved, turned, brought my legs up and over
the chair, on each side of my arms. And my fingers went to work, first very
slowly as I recalled the sensations of the horse's powerful moves and the
fingers probing inside me, then pressing harder as the need for release came
extremely rapidly.
"...all over you." Oh god, it felt good, I almost said out loud as I let my
head fall over the opposite arm of the chair, savouring this blissful moment
where I was so perfectly in control of myself.
I was still peacefully resting, in a position that left no doubt as to what I
had been busy at, when Adrian's car engine signalled his return at the entrance
of the property.
Only then did I realise that I was probably not supposed to relieve myself,
although he had never explicitly said that much. I moved back into a more
suitable sitting position, swearing as the chain got in the way of my legs, and
quickly licked my fingers to erase any revealing trace. When I was almost
certain he would not discover my little treat, I closed my eyes and pretended
to sleep.
* * *
"Chelsea? Time to wake up, my dear..."
He shook her shoulder gently, but when that didn't seem to work, he reached
down and began squeezing one of her delectable nipples until he eyes popped
open.
"You must be famished," he said as he unlocked the handcuffs, only to reconnect
them behind her back. "Come inside and keep me company while I cook."
He led her through the house into the kitchen, and pointed at a chair. While he
prepared their dinner, he regaled her with stories about what had happened with
Brenda, including her threats to call the police.
"I asked her what exactly she planned to tell them...that she came over to my
house and began assaulting my girlfriend? That on many occasions she had
literally begged me to do exactly what I did to her this afternoon? I started
pointing out various products and accessories in her living room, and asked if
the police would even know what these things were for, much less why they were
in her house. Finally, I told her I was definitely looking forward to reading
the crime report in the local newspaper. As you can imagine, all this did not
go over terribly well, but she'll get over it...unfortunately. Besides, I think
she liked it a lot more than she let on. And I can only presume I am a distinct
improvement over her usual play partners, given that 'good pervert' is a bit of
an oxymoron."
He could tell she was trying her hardest not to laugh, much less comment on his
stories. Even better, it felt like her usual fear and loathing had largely
dissipated...she seemed much more relaxed. Too relaxed, perhaps.
After feeding her a second helping of seared tuna and pasta, they sat together
on the sofa in the living room. He put one arm around her shoulders, his
fingers glancing off her breast, and used the other hand to click on the VCR.
"I'm curious to see how soon you fell asleep after I left this afternoon."
An image of Chelsea sitting in the chair by the pool flickered onto the screen,
followed by the distant sound of her voice singing Nancy Sinatra. He felt her
heart beating faster as they watched her swing her legs over the arm of the
chair and begin pleasuring herself.
"Video surveillance...don't leave home without it," he said when the tape
finally ended.
She looked like she had swallowed a live round of ammunition as he stood up and
began to hum a familiar song that she soon recognized as a contemporary of her
earlier performance.
"Regrets...I've had a few..." he sang as he went into the kitchen to freshen
his drink.
"I certainly hope you enjoyed yourself, Chelsea, because it's the last time
you'll ever touch yourself like that again," he said when he returned holding
something circular in his hand that reflected the room's lights.
"Stand up and spread your legs."
He wrapped the apparatus around her waist, then reached between her legs and
pulled another piece around her crotch. The combination lock clicked loudly as
he threaded the hasp into the slot just below her navel.
"They haven't really done much to improve these things since the days of King
Arthur," he said as gave the tumblers a thorough spin.
"Your pleasure, along with the rest of your body, now belongs exclusively to
me," he said, his fingers tapping the wire mesh in the front of the chastity
belt that covered her sex. "Now, let's get you changed into something less
comfortable for the remainder of the evening."
He headed toward the door leading to the hallway, knowing she had no choice but
to follow him.
*******************
Stories: http://www.geocities.com/~adrianhunter
Correspondence: adrian_hunter - at - hotmail.com
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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