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Message-ID: <47383asstr$1081642204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Imagineer <imagin8r47@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Cruel Summer 13 {Imagineer} (MF blackmail ScFi)
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Date: Sat, 10 Apr 2004 20:10:04 -0400
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Cruel Summer

copyright 2001-2004 by Imagineer.

comments to 
imagineer 47: yahoo green eggs com ham
but without the green eggs or ham

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Imagineer/www/


// 13: Redressed


  Angela was awakened by a ray of sunlight leaking through window
blinds. Her hair was in her face; she pushed it back over her ears as
she sat up. She had lost her dress. The broken g-string wrapped around
one thigh; she yanked it off and dropped it behind the couch. Her
stockings had been ruined by last night's activities. Her head began to
clear; she'd screwed Josh silly three times, each time avoiding a
blowjob. She had no idea she could be so creatively seductive. Or maybe
it was just Josh's youthful enthusiasm that couldn't say 'no' to a hot
willing young woman begging him to fill her...

  Angela peeled off the laddered stockings in disgust. There went $25.
She felt sticky. Where was her dress? Over there in a puddle next to
the fake tree in the corner.

  Where were her shoes? She remembered... "in the morning, if you're
good" Josh had promised before she'd coaxed him inside her for the
third time.

  Josh was snoring loudly. Maybe she could take a shower and wash off
some of the sex, if not the shame that went with it.

  The water felt good, but she dared not stay too long on the chance
that Josh woke up and decided to join her. He'd had his fun, now it was
time to get her shoes and go.

  Angela returned to the living room to fetch her dress.

  Josh yawned and stretched.

  "Wow, Angela, that was really fuckin' great." Josh was such a
romantic. Angela just gritted her teeth, mentally focusing on the image
Ricky had drawn of Sapphire. That's why you were here, she told
herself. You're almost through this.

  "Yeah, Josh. Can I have my shoes now?"

  "Oh, you didn't think we were done, did you?"

  Angela's heart sank. She felt light-headed. She needed to sit down...

  "Hey, I've got an idea. You're a girl, I bet you like trying stuff
on, different outfits I mean, right?" He didn't wait for her to answer.
"I know my mom has all kinds of cool outfits -- she's quite the clothes
horse." Angela recalled with horror the closet full of trashy lingerie
in his sister's old closet -- clothes whore is more like it. "I bet
you'd just look dynamite in them. What do you say?" He stood up and
reached out to help her up. "Come on, let's go look." When she didn't
immediately respond he reached down, grabbed her hand, and yanked her
to her feet, dragging her naked down the hall. Just like the last time
she was here, she remembered shamefully.

  Some of her dread lifted when Josh went right past his sister's old
room. At least I won't have to wear any of that humiliating stuff, she
thought. But as Josh guided her into his parents' room and nudged her
to sit down on the bed her anxiety grew. What did his mom have in her
own closet? Maybe that other stuff was just leftovers, stuff she didn't
wear anymore. Maybe the stuff in this closet was worse!

  Josh made a big production of throwing open the mirrored double
doors. "Ta-da!" he said with a sweep of his arm. "Now that's a
*closet*!"

  Through her dread Angela had to agree with him. The walk-in closet
looked huge, with two long rows of clothes, and an endless grid of
shoes above. In the aisle was a stepladder. The near half of one side
was obviously his dad's stuff -- conservative-looking business suits,
dark dress shoes, and probably half of this year's Polo collection of
slacks, shirts, and sweaters. The near half of the other side was his
mom's business attire, distinguished by the brighter variety of colors
and much smaller size of each garment. Beyond that on both sides was a
sea of women's clothing that would put a Hollywood prima donna to
shame. Josh went to the back of the closet, fiddling with something in
the back for a minute. She just sat on the bed until he came back to
the clothes-room's entrance.

  Josh motioned to the huddled naked form on his parents' bed. "Come
here, I'll get you a robe." That was nice of him. Ha. As she crossed
the huge bedroom toward him, one arm over her chest, the other in front
of her groin, she checked out his body as he stood there in his Ralph
Lauren bikini underwear. He's cute, I guess, but he's no hunk.

  Josh pulled out a satin shortie robe and started to hand it to
Angela, but he paused as he looked her up and down, appraising how it
would look on her, and noticed Angela's worried look as it occurred to
her it would barely cover her privates. He withdrew the suggestion and
returned it to the rod and pulled out a soft-looking red floor-length
robe. Not her color, but certainly more discreet. She stepped into the
shadowed area at the door of the closet where neither the bedroom wall
sconces nor the interior closet light quite reached and slipped it on.
It was a very lightweight material; the robe was obviously meant for
modesty, not warmth. The hem just touched the floor -- odd, she thought
Josh's mom was shorter than her. The bodice drew tight around her more
ample chest, coverage parting between her breasts to show considerable
cleavage.

  "Don't just stand there, come on in. See anything you like?"

  Despite the circumstances Angela had to admit she did. Losing her
timidness in resignation that if she didn't start browsing, Josh would
probably zero in on the most outrageous and humiliating thing he could
find, Angela began thumbing through the rack like she was shopping.

  Standing to her side, Josh admired Angela's form. The robe he'd
handed her was quite see-through, just a shadow of red over her supple
skin. Angela had no idea how exposed she was, since she'd taken the
garment and put it on in the shadow of the doorway. (Josh had
intentionally unscrewed the bulb in the front of the closet hoping for
just this result. And now he stood between Angela and the full-length
mirrors at the back of the closet, obscuring them from view.) He
watched as she pulled out an item, regarded it carefully, then rehung
it and pulled out another. Occasionally she would turn and hold an
outfit at arm's length, giving him a fantastic view of her backside. He
could see Angela was focusing on his mom's designer suits. While he'd
like to see her 5'4" of curves stuffed into his smaller-framed mom's
short-skirted business attire, he had loftier aspirations. But first to
complete the picture already before him. He stepped behind her, toward
the darker front of the closet.

  "Hey, before you try anything on, here's some underwear; we don't
want to stain anything." He held out a little wad of fabric, just out
of her reach. Angela took a step toward him to retrieve it; as
uncomfortable as she was with the idea of him dressing her up like a
doll, she was even less keen on prancing about in his mom's clothes
without any underwear, especially if the length of the skirts she'd
seen so far was any indication of his mom's tastes. 

  Her fingers found the little tag and oriented the garment properly.
She knew Josh was up to something; he was always up to something.
Great, a g-string. They don't feel like they'd stop much; they're as
thin as the robe. Angela didn't notice the article's translucence
shielded in her own shadow.

  Angela eyed Josh suspiciously, her eyes never leaving his as she bent
down to step into the g-string. She knew he was waiting for the robe to
part; he was already getting a great view of her cleavage in the
too-small robe but she was more concerned about not making it open up
completely. She had no idea just how much he could see.

  Josh tried to keep a straight face, or at least keep his grin from
breaking into a lustful drooling gape. What perfect tits! Granted, they
weren't nearly as big as that cheerleader Judy's -- he gave both her
chest size and her blowjob technique a solid D -- but they were
perfectly formed, fleshy but firm as Angela bent down to step into the
offered underwear. And the gauzy robe drawn tightly over her did little
more than give her flesh a rosy hue. Her little nipples poked out like
erasers. Her eyes bored into him with a barely-controlled hateful
resignation.

  Angela drew up the g-string slowly, trying to keep the robe from
parting too far up, gently gathering and spilling it forward like
theater curtains. She could feel her ass exposed behind her but he
wouldn't be able to see that; a tiny flash of victory sparked in her
eyes. Once it was in place, she pulled her hands out from under the
robe which poured back down around her to her bare feet. She made
adjustments by picking with her fingers through the robe, again being
careful not to pull it open. There was just no making the unfamiliar
strip running between her cheeks comfortable enough to forget what she
was wearing, which she figured was just another little facet of Josh's
smiling torture.

  "Marvelous," Josh said. And was it ever! The g-string didn't really
hide anything, just gave her clean-shaven mons a slightly darker shadow
of red than the rest of her body.

  "Come over here and put on these slippers so you don't drag the hem."
Josh pointed to the floor just inside the closet doors; as she stepped
into the shadows -- somebody should replace that light bulb -- she
slipped into a pair of high-heeled mules, feeling a feather-like
tickling as she did so. Despite the poor lighting conditions she knew
exactly what the "slippers" were... straight out of a Frederick's of
Hollywood catalog or any cheesy boudior fantasy. Or her own closet.

  Josh watched her posture change as she stepped up into the
high-heeled slippers. Ass stuck out, calves shaped, back arched. He
admired the way they exaggerated every move she made, made her more
sultry, more feminine, more helpless.

  "Okay, let's pick out something for you to wear," he said, motioning
her back into the closet.

  The shoes elevated her stature considerably; Josh could almost see
eye-to-eye with his fantasy date. The thick platform soles and six-inch
heels probably made her feel like she was on stilts. She glared at him
as she sclomp-ticked sclomp-ticked her way into the bowels of the
closet.

  "How about this?" Josh dramatically removed a hanger with a sweep of
his arm. Angela couldn't help recoiling in horror at the see-through
red lace cocktail dress. Josh suppressed a laugh; she didn't realize
she was already far more exposed in the sheer robe. The minidress would
be modest by comparison... and yet sluttier at the same time. This was
fun.

  "Where's your sense of adventure?" Josh mocked. "Tell you what, why
don't you go out to the bar and fix us each a *stiff* drink," he said,
adolescently emphasizing the word 'stiff' with a quick hip-thrust,
"while I find you something cute."

  Angela sighed. She had to remember why she was here... "Okay, luv,
but try to pick out something that goes with those sexy high heels of
mine that you're holding, hmm?" She forced herself to trace her hand up
his body, grazing his stiff member on the way to tickling behind his
ear.

  "You can be very persuasive when you want to, Angie," Josh said with
closed eyes, reveling in his own power as much as her touch. "But
there's plenty of time for that later. Now off to the kitchen!" he
ordered playfully, smacking her sharply on the rear to get her going.
The surprise of the blow launched her forward with a flurry of
half-steps; she stabilized herself and looked over her shoulder at Josh
as she retreated. "I'll be right back," she winked, "don't pick out
anything *too* naughty!"

  "That's impossible, baby!" Josh called back as she disappeared from
sight. He waited to hear the click-clack of her heels against the tile
floor of the entryway before diving back into the closet. He didn't
need to browse, he knew exactly what he wanted.

  Angela strutted down the hallway with purpose, head held high. She
was going to outdo this little prick. He wanted nothing more than to
humiliate her completely, and she wasn't going to give him the
satisfaction of seeing that again. At least not for real. She'd put
that time spent in drama class to good use.

  Silently, a pair of cameras captured Angela's oscillating form as she
headed back down the hall, a highball in each hand.

  Angela found Josh leaning against the back wall of the closet. If he
doesn't stop grinning like that his face will stick that way, she
thought. She handed him the drink.

  "Bottoms up!" Josh toasted. His grin was stretched by a sour reaction
to the strong liquor. Angela took small pleasure from his momentary
loss of cool. She sipped at her own watered-down bourbon. "So what did
you pick for me, honey?" she said with all the false charm she could
muster.

  Josh stepped toward her, taking the drink from her hand and
retreating to the back of the closet. "Why don't you pick something?"
Angela reached for a business suit at the front of the closet. "No, no,
back here more where the fun stuff is. Anything past that support beam
there."

  Angela extracted the first hanger to the right of the beam, hoping
that somehow the woman's sex costumes were arranged with the
most-normal and least-humiliating ones up front.

  A leather catsuit emerged, a multitude of pieces held together by
stitches, zippers, and buckles.

  Well that won't do, Josh thought. Let's remember who's in charge
here. Good thing she didn't notice the whip. "No, that's no good. We'd
be here for hours trying to stuff you into it. Besides, it's too butch
for you."

  Next hanger: a pink dress, puffy sleeves, crinoline skirting, huge
white satin bow in back -- an obvious charicature of a little girl's
Sunday outfit. Angela had little doubt that Josh's mom had shoes to go
with it, some torturous fetish take on Maryjanes.

  "No, that one's not quite right either. It's just *too* feminine. I
like my women with a little less powderpuff, a little more spunk." As
Angela put the little-girl outfit away and silently thanked the heavens
for the tiniest bit of mercy, Josh rummaged back in the corner behind
her.

  "Ahh, now THAT'S what I'm talkin' 'bout!" He held something up on a
hanger, his evil sneer only partially masked by showy ebullience.

  And Angela was overcome with horror as Josh turned the hanger around.

  The red satin cape and bright red-and-yellow "S" shield instantly
identified it as a Super Girl costume. Oh, God, did Josh know? Had she
told him she was Sapphire? Was this his way of torturing her? If he
knew, did that mean he wouldn't give her back her shoes? It had to,
didn't it? Why would he make her do all these horrible things if he had
any intention of giving her back her power? No, he couldn't know. He
never saw Sapphire's powers. He couldn't know. This had to be a
coincidence. A sickening coincidence. Josh harbored a superheroine
fetish.

  But looking past the immediate recognition of the unknowingly-ironic
icon of the costume to its actual composition revealed far more than a
standard cape-tights-and-boots fantasy, figuratively and literally.

  First, the cape was a mockery. She'd seen bibs larger than that at
the local rib joint.

  Worse, there were no boots. Josh held up a pair of bright red fuck-me
stiletto pumps in his other hand; red stockings draped loosely over his
wrist.

  Worse still, the red skirt looked like it might be only slightly
larger than a rubber band. It reminded Angela of Sapphire's plastic
skirt she'd tried that night she wound up subduing Dirk. Angela
presumed the stringy blue scrap hanging from the neck of the hanger was
a g-string.

  But the top was the worst of all. The "super" symbol wasn't on the
top, it WAS the top, with strings dangling from the widest part on
either side.

  Josh tossed the hanger at her. "Go put it on." His eyes had a steely
glare which belied his warm smile.

  Angela took the humiliating change of clothes and headed for the
bathroom. "Don't worry, I won't peek," Josh called around the corner.
He didn't have to; one of the cameras hidden in the corners of the room
would catch everything. There were benefits to having such perverted
parents...

  The girl in the full-length mirror took Angela by surprise;
reflexively she dropped the clothes and shoes and covered herself with
her arms. Josh could see everything through this robe! Her cheeks
flushed red, matching the hue of her skin under the gauzy wrap. She
turned away from the mirror so she didn't have to see herself in such a
risque pose. For some reason she thought about being caught by her own
mom on the couch; she hadn't been wearing much different then.

  "Let's get this over with," Angela steeled herself to the task at
hand...

  The robe slipped off her shoulders and pooled at her feet. As she
tugged the red g-string down her thighs she noticed it was as
transparent as the robe; could she be any more shamed?

  She could.

  "How's it coming, Super Girl?"

  Angela snapped the g-string into place and wiggled into the tight
skirt. The top had really long strings on the sides just above really
short ones; after trying unsuccessfully to tie it off at the small of
her back, she figured out that the long ones were supposed to tie to
the short ones on each side. The top was of course stretched tightly
over Angela's breasts, having been designed for a smaller bust. The
outer corners of the shield-shaped fabric didn't completely cover the
outer curvature of her breasts; the shiny spandex material stretched in
ripples between them. The tapered bottom hung away from her tummy.
Looking down Angela could see the floor through her cleavage. She
distracted herself for a moment with the thought that Josh's mom didn't
have breast implants; considering the huge sums of money spent on her
sexual wardrobe, Angela was surprised that she hadn't bought some big
boobs too.

  The stockings smoothed up her thighs, Angela pulled on the red pumps.
Finally, the cape was tied around her neck.

  Angela turned around. Oh, God. She was Super Slut.

  "My mom's makeup is on the counter there next to the sink. Put some
on. Don't skimp."
  Angela did as she was told. 

  She heard his voice closer as she leaned over the sink, her face
close to the mirror to add more mascara. "Are you dressed yet? Oh,
good," Josh said from the doorway. He'd put on a white lab coat, which
looked ridiculous with his bare legs and feet. The lower part of the
coat was tented by his erection which seemed to grow as he ogled her,
stretched out and bent over the edge of the sink counter, just begging
to be taken from behind. But Josh had more elaborate ideas.

  "Okay, so listen, we're gonna do a little roleplaying here. You're
Super Girl, and I'm The Chemist, a supervillain with plans for world
domination. I'm gonna go stand over by the dresser -- that's my lab,
where I mix the potions that will allow me to control people's minds."
As Josh continued to lay out his script, Angela's head fell to her
chest, her cheeks burning bright red; she blinked away a tear.

  Josh had no idea what line he'd crossed here.

  "Make it convincing, and when we're done I'll go get your shoes."


  "Hold it right there, Chemist," Angela said flatly.

  Josh turned to face her as she stood in the doorway. He threw up his
hands and leaned back in vaudeville surprise. "Why, it's Super Girl!
How did you find my secret laboratory?"

  "Never mind that," Angela replied with little enthusiasm, "I've come
to stop you."
  "...from poisoning the world," Josh prompted.
  "I've come to stop you from poisoning the world," she repeated.

  "Before you do that, take a whiff of this." Josh held something up in
front of her. She felt a blast of cold stinging vapor hit her face; she
recoiled, bringing her hands up to her face. Another shot hit her neck,
then another on her chest. Her nose breathed in a strong, sweet, spicy
scent. Obsession. She backpedaled a step but lost her balance. Josh
quickly reached out and caught her by the wrist, then pulled her toward
him and spun her onto the bed.

  Angela sputtered as she pushed herself up on her hands and knees; one
leg dangled off the side of the bed in search of the floor.

  "What do you think, Super Girl?"
  "I think it HURTS LIKE HELL when you squirt it RIGHT IN MY FACE!"
  Josh didn't break character. "Of course it stings a little. It's my
latest formula. It's Sensualia-X, mixed with just enough liquid
Kryptonite to get past your defenses." He smacked her on the ass just
as she was pushing herself up off the bed; she wobbled back onto her
hands and knees.

  "And I can see it's already taking its toll. You're not even strong
enough to stand!" He let out a terrible fake supervillain laugh.

  She stood and faced him, looking up at him even in the tall heels.

  "I am a superheroine and you will show me some respect." Angela was
only half delivering a line; a part of her was deadly serious.

  "You're no superheroine. You're nothing but a slut." The words cut,
more deeply than Josh could know.

  Furious, Angela slapped him across the face. The impact was loud; her
hand hurt. Josh was stunned. She moved to slap him with the other hand,
but he snatched her wrist just before impact. His eyes betrayed a
surprised anger at her petulence, but this gave way to a devilish look
of enjoyment as she struggled against his grip. This was even better
than he'd hoped for. Her anger faded as she remembered who had the
power here, in more ways than one.

  If only she'd had her gems...

  Of course, that was the point of this whole charade.

  "So much for your super powers," Josh taunted. Angela tried to pull
her arm away from him, but he held it fast. She tugged harder, bending
her knees and throwing her weight back; he held on for a moment, then
just as she tugged again he let go; she went spilling to the floor hard
on her ass, arms and legs flailing. Josh caught a flash of her little
g-string under the tight skirt.

  Angela simply lay there on her back; this was humiliating. Her
expression of helpless anger only fueled Josh's fire. He reached for
something on the dresser, then bent down and grabbed at her ankles.
Before she could pull away, he had them both looped in white cloth ties
and was pulling her along the floor back toward the bed. He spun the
ties around his forearm several times, effectively tying her feet
together to his arm. She could probably kick free but it would hurt him
and she couldn't afford to do that; she lay there compliantly.

  Josh pulled her feet up toward her ass, turning her on her side. What
an ass! The bottom half of her cheeks stuck out lewdly from the
too-short skirt. He squatted down next to her. With his free hand he
looped a tie around one wrist, then quickly repeated the task on her
other wrist. He wrapped these around his forearm and lifted her up. She
dangled awkwardly like a fish caught on two hooks.

  "These Kryptonite restraints will hold you, Super Slut."

  Angela found herself thrown on the bed. Her tormentor quickly
unwrapped the ties from his forearms and began fastening her
extremeties down to the bedposts.

  Angela broke character. "Isn't Criptoe-night supposed to be green?"
Anything to knock him down a peg.
  "Don't worry, we'll fix that in post," Josh said as he bent down to
tie off.
  "What?" Angela hadn't quite heard him.
  "Uhh... we'll fix you to that post," he recovered. He didn't want
Angela knowing about the cameras.

  "Now I have you! Oh, Super Girl, you have no idea how long I have
waited for this moment! All the times I've seen you flying around the
city, supposedly helping people, I knew the truth! I knew the real
reason you went running around in your skimpy costume. You just want to
show off that hot bod of yours. You just want all the men in the city
to lust after your perky tits and your tight ass and your long legs.
You want them to make them hard just thinking about you. You want to
control them all by letting them see what they can't have. You're just
a big tease! But no more. Soon The Chemist will be the one controlling
this city, and the world!"

  The Chemist / Josh shot her with another whiff of perfume.

  "Even now, the Kryptonite combines with my sexual serum, breaking
down your resistance and bonding you to me. You can't help but be
aroused by my scent. My touch excites you, makes you long for me, makes
you *wet* for me." His hand cupped her pussy, the palm of his hand
squishing back and forth, grinding against her clit. His fingers
stroked up and down her distended lips; she moaned despite herself.

  "You will do anything to please me." He grabbed her breast roughly
through the "S" top, squeezing with a gentle rhythm.

  "You want to feel my cock inside you."

  Josh climbed up on the bed. He trembled with excitement.


  Damn, he hadn't really thought about how she was going to give him a
blowjob tied up like this. The King-sized bed and the short silk ties
had her arms spread wide and her head too close to the headboard for
him to lean over her. He should have tied her feet with the short ones
and her arms with the long ones...

  He straddled her as best he could, knees under her armpits, leaning
forward with his hands against the wall above the headboard.


  Angela's eyes went wide with terror. Oh, no! He was going to force
her to...


  Josh reached down, bending his prick toward her mouth. It was an
awkward position. Maybe he should re-tie her after all... but it was
right there...

  His meat bounced against her lips as he pushed it down and swiveled
his hips.

  "Suck it," he commanded.
  He traced her lips with the head; it smelled pungent, it felt hot
against her skin. It twitched when she exhaled. She felt wispy hairs
tickling the underside of her chin.

  A tear slid down the side of her face as she opened her mouth.

  "Oh, ffucckhh, yeah..." Josh was barely coherent as his prick slid in
and out of Angela's lips. Her technique was lousy, but rubbing the head
of his dick against the top of her mouth he didn't care.

  But as marvelous as it felt to be mouth-fucking his ex-girlfriend
dressed up as Super Girl, his back and stomach muscles were getting
sore. The position was just too awkward. And the cameras weren't
capturing any of the action. He didn't need to see a ten minute video
of his own ass on top of her hot body. He should have thought about
this more, he could have planned this better.

  And she was starting to whimper and struggle a little. Maybe she
couldn't breathe. Dammit, this wasn't working out. If he kept thinking
about it he was gonna lose his wood. He pulled out and rolled off.

  He regarded his captive playmate. Struggling weakly against her
bonds. Calves and thighs well-defined underneath red stockings. Short
skirt inched up to expose the scant g-string painted on the junction of
her sex. Tits spilling out the sides of the small straining top.
Cartoonishly-short cape providing a bright-red backdrop for the
creamy-smooth skin of her bare shoulders. It was... perfect.


  Angela looked up at her image in the ceiling mirror, staring at the
"S" emblazoned across her chest. Super. She was anything but.

  Blackmailed, powerless, humiliated, demeaned, defiled... tied up here
before this boy -- this sinister *man* -- wearing a symbol of feminine
strength and righteousness that was the polar opposite of her present
condition...

  It made her wet. 

  And there were no magical gems she could blame it on, no external
force artificially stimulating her carnal lust. It wasn't Sapphire
succombing to the dark side of her power. It was Angela revelling in
the weakness of her own flesh. And the more ashamed she became, the
more inflamed was her body's response.

  "Please fuck me." The words were little more than a whisper.

  Josh leaped on top of her; she didn't have to ask twice.

   


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