index


Message-ID: <51981asstr$1127081405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Jim C" <jimc_author@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Lucky Stiff by JiMC (10 of 46)--MF, FF, mc, md, magic, romance
Lines: 1314
Date: Sun, 18 Sep 2005 18:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


This story is copyright (c) 2003-2005.  All rights are
reserved by the author, including that of publication.
Posting on-line is only allowed when permission is explicitly
granted by the author, and then only for the complete story,
including this disclaimer.  Contact the author at
<jimc-author at excite dot com> for more information,
referring to this story ("Lucky Tickets 2: Lucky Stiff").

I explicitly grant permission to post this story to
StoriesOnline.net and asstr-mirror.org.

The following is a work of fiction and is just a fantasy.
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental and entirely unintentional.  There may be
references to people in a historical context, but they are
not really characters in this story.

This is a story that describes sexually explicit situations
in a fictional universe that only vaguely seems similar to
the one we live in.  Most of the characters in this story are
under aged.  However, the target audience is adults (people
over the age of eighteen) with broad minds.

* * *

This is a sequel to the story "Lucky Tickets," and as such,
you may want to read that story first to get a better
introduction to the characters present in both stories.  Like
a lot of sequels, it's not really meant to be read out of
order.

* * *

Chapter 10--Detention

        We don't need no education.
        We don't need no thought control.
        No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
        Teacher, leave those kids alone!
                -- Another Brick in the Wall (Pink Floyd)


    That night, Kristen took me to "our" apartment.  I was
surprised to see that the work that she designed for it was
mostly complete.  The only thing that was the same from the
original apartment was the color scheme in the living room.
Apparently, Harry unpacked Kristen's suitcases since I didn't
see them in the apartment.

    As part of the renovation, the appliances in the kitchen
were replaced with ones of a more professional quality.  The
refrigerator no longer contained a freezer on top, but was a
wide side-by-side model with a dispenser for water and ice in
the heavy brushed metal door.  The kitchen also sported a new
stove that burned gas, augmented with one of those new
microwave ovens on one of the new, larger counters.

    The kitchen expanded into the former apartment next door,
and now contained what Kristen called an "island" in the
middle of it that contained a lot of counter space and an
extra sink with a garbage disposal in the middle.
Surrounding the island were a few stools which created an
informal eating area within the kitchen.

    Beyond the kitchen, into the counterpart of our living
room in the second apartment, was a combination pantry and
hallway, which led to a formal dining room.  The centerpiece
of the dining room was a large table made of cherry wood with
a finish was almost as shiny as glass.  Six chairs with tall
backs were set at the table, and there was room to expand the
table to fit a party of twelve people comfortably.  The
dining room also sported a matching wall unit that contained
a set of china on display.

    The dining room also connected back to the living room in
the original apartment area, and a hallway led to a guest
bedroom and a private bath.

    Back in the original apartment, there was a new, enlarged
bedroom, which now contained its own private bathroom.  There
was also the king sized bed that Kristen and I already gave
good use to.

    Throughout the new apartment was a set of intercoms that
would allow either of us to contact the other, no matter
where in the apartment the other person would be.  It was on
a separate and private circuit from the house security
intercom; the latter was also accessible from the entire
apartment as well.

    The carpet was now a full shag carpet throughout the
entire apartment, with the exception of the kitchen which was
decked out with Italian tile.

    "Wow," I gushed after Kristen gave me the grand tour.  "I
saw some of this before Christmas, but it's done now!"

    "Well, it's nearly done," Kristen said proudly.  "As of
tonight, it's ours.  It's no longer my playroom, but our
apartment.  I'm living here until we get married, when we
will pick out our own property.  Your parents have already
given tentative permission for you to live here if you want,
but they'd prefer you to stay at home occasionally, at least
for the next year.  And I have to show you the one Christmas
present that is still not completely ready."

    Another present?  I smiled, wondering what kind of new
suit that Kristen bought for me.

    Instead of leading me to the bedroom, she led me out of
the apartment down a set of stairs opposite to the ones we
normally climb to go into the apartment.  They led into the
back of the three-car garage.  When Kristen turned on the
light, however, I saw new rooms partitioned into what used to
be the back of the garage.

    Each of the rooms in that back area were about the size
of Kristen's original living room; about a thousand square
feet apiece.

    "What's happening here?" I asked.

    Kristen smiled.  "I'm going to make this room soundproof.
It's going to be your studio!"

    I wasn't sure I was hearing Kristen correctly.  "A
studio, like an apartment for me, or do you mean like a music
studio?"

    "Music studio," Kristen said proudly.  "I figured we
could put in some shag carpeting, and panel the walls with
stuff like in the practice rooms at school for
soundproofing..."

    This was getting very worrisome to me.  "Kris!  I don't
need you to do all this for me.  I mean... I love what you
did to the apartment, but this is too much."

    Kristen looked at me, and then said, "All right.  I
haven't done anything here because I needed your input.
Let's put it off a while.  In the meantime, we can put in
something simple such as a piano or something.  Let it be
your place where you can doodle in private."

    I shook my head.  "I already have that.  The keyboard you
gave me from Sludge has a jack where I can plug my Sennheiser
headphones in.  That's as much privacy as I need... at least
for now."

    Kristen was silent a few minutes.  I was about to say
something when she said, "All right.  But this room will be
here, whether you choose to use it or not."

    I sighed.  I hated spoiling Kristen's surprises, but I
really disliked her spending money on me like that.  I wasn't
interested in being the beneficiary of all of Kristen's
money.  Sherry's outburst a few months ago about me loving
Kristen only because of her money made me very sensitive to
that sort of thing.

    Kristen saw my expression and explained, "This garage was
always too large, so I asked Daddy if he'd mind if I took it
over and built him another one, only one story but still
fitting three cars.  In return, this whole building becomes
mine until I get my own place.  This room is just a part of
the garage; we will still have room to put our cars in it.
The extra space can be a studio for you, and maybe something
else.  Let's call it the new playroom, OK?  I ran out of
discretionary funds for 1974, but we're now in 1975, and next
month is my eighteenth birthday, so I would have been able to
actually complete the next part, since it will be so
expensive."

    "What is the next part?" I asked.

    Kristen pointed to a wall with a blocked doorway.  "In
your studio, I was going to put in some multi-track tape
decks, a mixer, and some other stuff.  I'll talk with some of
the guys in the jazz band who know recording to get a feel
for what would be good to put here.  It may not be anything
like a professional studio, but you would have been able to
record something better than you were able to do at school."

    "You planned this for me?"

    Kristen looked at me strangely.  "Everything I do from
now on is for you, Jim.  My last fling for myself was that
trip to Austria.  From now on, it will be you and us.  Right
now, music is important to you, and I want to do everything I
can to support you with that.  This could be a place for you
to compose, practice, and eventually record stuff.  The
entire building will be ours once my dad's new garage is
built.  That construction actually started and should be
completed in less than a month.  The new driveway to the new
garage will require us to wait until the ground thaws, but
Daddy told me it should only take a little more than a week.
He already has the contractors signed up."

    "I don't know what to say," I admitted, unable to come up
with any words that would let Kristen know how touched I was
by her generosity.

    Kristen put her arms around me.  "Hmm, I have some ideas.
Thank you, Kristen.  I love you, Kristen.  Let's fuck,
Kristen!"

    I continued to stare at the studio when Kristen's words
hit me.  "Thank you, Goddess.  I love you, my fair lady.
Let's make love, my favorite vixen!  But first, I want to
make something completely clear..." I knew I was starting to
sound like ex-President Nixon, but I continued.  "I will
NEVER fuck you just because you gave me something.  I will
definitely fuck you because I love you.  Is that clear?"

    Kristen giggled.  "You have such a wonderful way with
words, Master."

    "Master?" I repeated.

    "Think of me as if I were your little genie in a bottle.
Like the old TV show."

    I looked at Kristen and smiled, thinking of her in that
silky sheer outfit that Barbara Eden wore.

    "Kristen, I can't treat you like a genie or as a slave.
I want to be as much yours as you say you are mine."

    Kristen didn't answer, but she hugged me tightly.

    I was surprised when Kristen then bent down and picked me
up.  "You got to carry me through the threshold, Jim.  If
we're going to be equals, then I'm carrying you over the
threshold this time!"

    Without so much as a grunt, Kristen managed to pick me
up, carry me back up the stairs and into our apartment and
into the master bedroom.  She deposited me on the bed, and
with surprising quickness, she got something out of a dresser
drawer, and then got on top of me and pinned me.

    Before I knew what was happening, Kristen took two
stockings, and had tied them to my wrists and then to the
headboard.  She then quickly pulled down my pants and boxers,
and tied my legs to the posts of the bed.

    Kristen got up.  I was nude from the waist down and tied
spread-eagle to the bed.  She admired her handiwork and said,
"Well, I'm going out to the living room to watch some
television.  Too bad you can't come with me, SLAVE!"

    Slave?  Hadn't Kristen just called me Master a few
moments ago?  I was confused.  "What do you mean?"

    "Shut up, Slave," Kristen said, her eyes telling me that
she was not kidding right now.  "If you want to be as much
mine as I am yours, then you will have to start calling me
Mistress.  Each time you don't, you will be punished."

    "Kristen, what the hell..."

    Kristen's eyes flashed her anger at me and I shut up.
Kristen looked around the room and her eyes settled on a fly
swatter that was hanging on the wall.  She grinned evilly and
retrieved it, and then, without warning, slapped it on my
right thigh.

    "OW!" I cried, more in surprise than in pain.  In all
fairness to Kristen, she didn't seem to try to hurt me.

    "That's 'Ow, Mistress!' to you!" Kristen said, and she
hit my other thigh.

    "OW!" I repeated, and then remembered.  "I mean, ow,
Mistress!"

    "Good, you are learning," Kristen said, playfully hitting
her left palm with the swatter.  "OK.  Here's the deal.  You
refused to be my Master, and said you wanted us to be equals.
The only way we can be equals and that I can have you as my
Master is for me to become your mistress once in a while, and
I guess it's time for you to learn how I want to be treated
when you do become my Master.  Do you understand?"

    "I guess so," I said.  I hated listening to this twisted
logic, but at the moment, I didn't have any choice.

    Kristen swatted her palm again, menacingly.

    "I guess so, Mistress," I corrected myself.

    "Good," Kristen grinned.  "Here's the deal.  The next
time I call you Master, you will have a choice.  Either you
order me around and have sex with me, or you can refuse.  If
you refuse, I'll be your Mistress, and I'll have sex with
you.  Complete equals."

    That didn't sound very fair.  "You mean..."

    "Yes.  You blew it today, so I'm your Mistress," Kristen
said, her eyes grinning, but her look still serious.  "I'm
going to let you think about this.  When I'm good and ready,
I'll return."

    Kristen left me alone at that point, leaving me to think
of her version of "fairness." If she wants sex, she'll call
me Master, and I'll take her.  If I don't respond as her
Master, then she'll take over as my Mistress, and she'll take
me.  In other words, when Kristen wants sex, Kristen will get
sex.

    This setup didn't seem very fair to me.  The unfair point
was that I wasn't being consulted.  Whether or not I wanted
sex when Kristen wanted it, she'd get it.  This was the sort
of thing that bothered me about Kristen's insistence that we
would be spending our lives together.  It wasn't a terrible
thing, but I wanted to have some say in the matter.

    If this choice was offered to me a couple of months ago,
I would have gone along with it.  After all, a guy would do
anything to have sex with somebody like Kristen, right?

    But now, there were other thoughts.  For instance, what
if I wanted sex and she didn't want it?  If I were to reverse
our roles, I could make her have sex with me at my own whim.
What was the difference between that and rape?  Wasn't that
one of the big problems with the tickets, that the people
that received them didn't have any say in the matter?

    Then again, Kristen was indeed a special case.  She was
obligated to have my cock and sperm on a regular basis, and
the only person to blame for this was me.  Maybe this was
Kristen's subtle way of getting even with me.

    Thinking about Kristen's addiction led to a new train of
thought.  If Kristen's "Master and Slave" game was unfair to
me, how fair was Kristen's addiction to her?  I mean, given
that Kristen had this addiction, what if I suddenly choose
never to allow Kristen access to those things she craves?  I
saw her strung out like a junkie when she originally received
her addiction; it occurred to me that I could do this again.
What would happen?  Looking at how Kristen was going to play
her game with me, it seemed like if she couldn't get her fix
from me willingly, she might take it from me unwillingly!
Was this fair--to me as well as to her?  I shuddered at this
thought and abandoned this line of thinking.

    Unfortunately, I wasn't able to have any sort of
intellectual discussion with Kristen.  I was the one that was
tied up, spread-eagle to her bed, and Kristen was out of the
room.  She was definitely calling the shots right now, and
there was no way for me to deny this plain fact.

    It was true that Kristen liked playing games in bed, and
that this could be just another game to her.  If so, it
wouldn't hurt for me to play along.

    After a few minutes, Kristen came back into the room.
"You'll eat me, and you will bring me to three orgasms.  They
need to be big ones.  Until I get my quota, I'll suck you but
I won't let you shoot off.  Now, you know and I know that my
biggest orgasms are when I'm can taste you, so you're going
to have to work extra hard."

    "How long do I have... Mistress?" I asked, playing along
with the game.

    "As long as it takes.  I'll stay here until I get my
quota.  If it takes you an hour, I'll be happy, and then I'll
swallow your cum and I'll untie you.  If it takes you two
days, I'll wait patiently."

    "But we have school tomorrow!" I protested.

    Kristen grinned, and swatted me for not calling her
Mistress.  "You may not want to miss school, but I'm getting
my quota, no matter how long you have to try.  I've been
alone in Europe for the past week, baby!  I want this!"

    Kristen then left the room before I could respond.

    I rarely saw this side of Kristen, the dominatrix.  The
one time I saw her like that was when she dominated Patrice a
few months before.

    It was obvious that Kristen gave me a difficult task.  I
mean, she enjoyed it when I licked her, and she even reached
orgasm as I did so, but we were usually in a sixty-nine
position when I did that, and her orgasms were usually
triggered by my own climax.  Thanks to my stupid wish,
Kristen found it difficult to reach orgasm without my sperm
in her mouth.  This may be Kristen's subtle way of getting
even with me for making that wish.

    Despite the fact that Kristen hit me three times with the
fly swatter, she didn't use anything close to the amount of
strength that she could have put behind it.  The intent
wasn't really to inflict real pain, but to show me how she
wanted me to dominate her when our roles would eventually be
reversed.

    I smelled and heard Kristen cooking something in the
kitchen.  About twenty minutes later, Kristen reappeared in
the bedroom with a small plate with a pile of what looked
like shredded potatoes on it.

    When Kristen came back into the bedroom, she explained,
"It's called r^ssti.  It's a delicious dish that I had when I
was on my trip.  It's a simple recipe, really: butter and
potatoes, topped with a little sour cream." She ate a forkful
and gave an appreciative "Umm" in response.  "I wanted to
make this for you, today, but I guess you'll be eating
something else right now, huh?  Like me!"

    Kristen ate another couple of forkfuls, and I could feel
my mouth salivate over the aroma.  For the simple dish that
Kristen described, it smelled quite wonderful.  I only ate a
sausage grinder at dinner, and I was still a bit hungry.

    My girlfriend put the plate down on the dresser and
shrugged off her robe.  "I guess I'm ready for my slave to
work off his punishment."

    Without any fanfare, Kristen climbed into the bed, her
feet toward the headboard, and straddled my face.  My dick
grew erect in anticipation of one of her lovely blow jobs,
but Kristen didn't lean over me.  I inhaled Kristen's musk
for the first time in a week, and eagerly started licking the
folds of her labia, and moved my tongue up and down, seeking
to coax her clitoris from its hiding place.  I thrust my
tongue deep into her hole, and licked up and down until I
felt the presence of her perky nub on my tongue.

    Kristen adjusted her position, and soon I felt her lips
engulf my cock.  Hell, I thought to myself, I could imagine
worse punishments than having your cock sucked by an expert
and licking my lover's twat.  I continued to move my tongue
about with renewed vigor.  I felt some response as Kristen
wiggled her hips to help my tongue reach the proper spot.

    After a few minutes, I felt some reflexive movements
between Kristen's legs, recognizing an early sign of her
release.  I was amazed that I might actually make Kristen
reach orgasm without my sperm in my mouth.  At about this
same time, Kristen stopped sucking me, lazily rubbing the tip
of my cock with her tongue.  I knew that she didn't have any
intention of allowing me to ejaculate until I gave her the
requisite number of orgasms.

    It took another couple of minutes, but Kristen's
movements started getting more erratic.  Despite my tongue
starting to get tired, I continued to thrust it into her
snatch, trying to pull that first, difficult orgasm from her.
Her thighs were squeezing me, and my cock was once again
inside her mouth, although it was just a gentle suckle on the
head of my cock while avoiding the tender area at the bottom.
This was Kristen's way of sucking me for long periods of time
without actually making me come.

    Recognizing that Kristen was not going to allow me to
shoot off, I determined that I'd draw out an orgasm of
sufficient size from her.  I did have a few months'
experience in this position, and I was determined to make
this as big as possible for Kristen.

    Since Kristen was determined to not allow me to come
until I brought out three "big" orgasms, I continued
alternating between licking her folds, thrusting my tongue
deep inside her, and sucking her clitoris between my lips.

    Thankfully, the wish that limited Kristen's orgasms
stated that she needed to have either my dick or my sperm in
her mouth.  Although I never knew Kristen to have an orgasm
in this position without me coming first, I knew it was still
possible, since she did have my cock in her mouth.  I've also
been able to bring her to orgasm without my dick or sperm in
her mouth, but it wasn't easy.  Anyway, I realized that as
long as she continued to suck me, no matter how softly, I
might be able to give her orgasms of a sufficient strength.
At least, that was my hope.

    I continued to tickle around Kristen's sensitive bud
without actually touching it directly with my tongue except
for infrequent and random touches.  Kristen's contractions
slowly started turning into spasms.  She pressed her thighs
tightly against my head, making it difficult for me to gauge
accurately the size of her orgasm.

    Blindly, I continued licking, despite Kristen's continued
pressing of her thighs against my ears, forcing my tongue to
continue playing with her sensitive nub more frequently now.
It was difficult, although not impossible for me to breathe,
but for me that was secondary.  I was determined to make her
come, even if it killed me.

    A period of time passed, and it was getting more and more
difficult to get air in through my nose due to the tightness
of Kristen's legs around my head.  I suddenly felt massive
warmth on my member, and felt my cock easily slip into
Kristen's throat.  In response, I thrust my hips up toward
her and then away from her, feeling my cock move in and out
of her mouth, my cock by now over-sensitized.

    Almost without any warning to either me or to Kristen, I
started pumping into Kristen's mouth.  I felt her cheeks
rubbing against the side of the head of my cock as she
applied an incredible amount of suction, sending wave after
wave of pleasure through my body.

    Through all this, my tongue continued its onslaught of
Kristen's slit.  Somehow, Kristen managed to wiggle her
clitoris out of direct contact with my tongue, but I
continued to probe in the direction where I thought it was,
hoping that I'd be able to stimulate it at least indirectly.

    After an unknown amount of time, my dick stopped pulsing.
I could no longer tell if anything was still coming out, but
once again, I could tell that I was deep inside Kristen's
throat, which meant that I was no longer pumping actively.  I
wondered if my Goddess would be able to breathe with me so
deep inside her for so long, but I didn't sense any kind of
panic from her.  In fact, her legs continued clamping tightly
around my ears and she wiggled her crotch left and right in a
vain attempt to evade my probing tongue.

    Finally, Kristen pulled her head off my dick, and I felt
the cool air hit its saliva slick shaft.  The tightness
against my head disappeared, and Kristen rolled off my body.

    I turned my head toward Kristen, my arms still bound by
those silly stockings.  I wanted so much to pull her back to
me and lavish her lovely crotch with thousands of tiny
kisses.  Instead, I could see her fine blonde hairs that did
nothing to hide her very swollen cunt lips.  I cold even see
Kristen's normally hidden clit at the edge, looking like a
delicious morsel just right for licking.

    I extended my tongue, but Kristen's crotch was too far
away for me to reach.  Even so, Kristen saw my movement and
instinctively pulled her crotch further away.

    "That... that was..." Kristen sounded breathless.

    "That was what... Mistress?" I asked, almost forgetting
my role in this little game we were playing.

    "That was in-fucking-credible!  I never thought you
could..." Kristen's words died off.

    I continued to watch Kristen's lovely crotch, now
excessively far away for me to reach.  Her tummy moved slowly
in and out with each breath, and it took me a few minutes
before I realized that Kristen was asleep.

    Great!  Here I was, tied up spread eagle to a bed with
the girl of my dreams sleeping next to me.

    I examined the stockings that bound me to the bed.  The
knots were simple overhand knots, and if I pulled on them,
they should release easily.  Actually, it wasn't as easy as I
originally thought, since pulling on them seemed to just
tighten the knots.  It took a couple of minutes, but I was
eventually able to get the right one off.

    With my one hand free, I carefully rolled over to free
the hand closer to Kristen.  She didn't awake, and I was able
to sit up and untie my legs.

    I had to admit that the orgasms I had today were probably
the largest that I ever experienced in my short sexual life.
Between the one in the changing room and my most recent one,
it seemed as if my balls generated a quart of semen, an
amount that I knew was an exaggeration.  Still, the amount
that I must have unleashed was almost definitely a record for
me.

    Tenderly, I tapped Kristen on the shoulder, but she
didn't respond.  This surprised me, as she's usually a light
sleeper, and I expected her to wake up when I tapped her.  It
then occurred to me that she might be exhausted from her trip
to Europe, so I got out of the bed when she didn't move.

    I saw the plate of potatoes, and I took a forkful,
ignoring the fact that Kristen already used that fork.  I
long ago lost any squeamishness about getting germs from
Kristen, and neither of us saw any problems with French
kissing, oral sex, sharing utensils, or even toothbrushes.

    Despite being cold, the potatoes tasted interesting,
although I would probably have added more salt.  I thought
about putting them into the microwave oven, but I never
really used one before, and I figured I'd only end up making
them inedible.  I smiled, and looked back at my sleeping
Goddess, her beautiful breasts moving regularly with each
breath.  Even passed out after an orgasm, Kristen was a
wonderful thing to look at.  Her disheveled hair still looked
gorgeous to me, although I would imagine that Kristen would
be scandalized if she could see it right now.  How lucky I
was to have such a lovely and sexy Goddess in love with me!

    The dresser that I was standing at was the same one that
Kristen retrieved her stockings from before.  I opened the
drawer that Kristen used, and saw a large collection of
stockings and other things that Kristen referred to as her
"regular lingerie"--as opposed to the exotic stuff she kept
in packages on a shelf in her closet.

    I thought of tying up Kristen spread-eagle as she did to
me, and saw something metal at the bottom of the drawer.

    Upon closer examination, I discovered there were a pair
of handcuffs at the bottom of the drawer!  I looked from the
drawer to Kristen's still sleeping body, and wondered.  Why
did she have these?  Where did she get them?

    An evil thought came to my mind as I picked up the
handcuffs and looked back at Kristen's unconscious form.  Tie
me up, would she?  I'll fix her and see how she likes it!

    I put the handcuffs on a pair of Kristen's panties on top
of the headboard, using the panties to muffle the jingle of
the metal.

    I shook Kristen's shoulders, but she didn't wake up.  I
looked at her nervously, but saw that she was still
breathing.  I never saw Kristen sleep so soundly before.  I
rolled her onto her back, and she was now in the middle of
the bed.  She still didn't wake up.  Gently, I tied the two
stockings that Kristen used on my legs onto her legs, using
very loose knots that I didn't want to tighten yet.  She
still didn't move.

    Using slow movements, I gently pulled Kristen's arms over
her head, and looked at the foot of the bed for something on
which I could mount her arms.  There was a rail connecting
the two bedposts.  I tied a stocking to that rail, using a
square knot.  I tied another stocking to that first stocking
and then to the middle of the handcuffs, again using a secure
knot.

    I was finally ready.  I carefully slipped the cuffs over
Kristen's wrists.  They jingled as I did so, making me
freeze, but she still didn't wake up.  Emboldened, I locked
them gently on her wrists.  Her wrists were now securely
fastened.

    Kristen's legs were spread eagle on the bed with two
stockings gently tied to the headboard.  I tightened and
secured the knots and finally I knew that my lovely Goddess
was firmly tied to the bed.  When she woke up, she would be
in for a surprise!

    I left my lovely Goddess tied up and walked into the
kitchen.  I opened the freezer door and found the ice tray,
which was full of ice made automatically by the ice maker.  I
took a nice long sliver and grinned evilly.

    Back in the bedroom, Kristen was still asleep.  I thought
that she made such a fetching image there, and considered,
but finally rejected, the idea of getting her Polaroid camera
and snapping a few candid shots.  Who would I show them to?
If Kristen was serious about this master/slave thing, I could
do this as often as I wanted.  I briefly thought of taking a
picture just to threaten her with showing it to somebody, but
that thought was easily rejected.  Since the two of us became
lovers, I never felt the need to really threaten her, kidding
or not.  I wasn't about to start now.

    I finished Kristen's r^ssti, deciding that I actually
liked it, and probably would like it even more if it were
warmer.  I then took the sliver of ice that I retrieved from
the kitchen, and touched Kristen's right nipple.  In the dim
light of the room, I couldn't see the nipple get erect, the
skin around it being so dark, but I could feel it harden.
Kristen shivered slightly in her sleep in reaction to the
coolness of the ice, but she did not wake up.  Once again, I
was amazed at the soundness of Kristen's slumber.

    Intrigued, I touched Kristen's other nipple, and got the
same reaction.  She still didn't wake up.  Finally, I touched
the ice sliver between her legs at her labia, since her clit
was no longer visible.

    "Huh?  Huh?  What?" Kristen woke up, completely
disoriented.  She moved her arms and was surprised to find
herself immobilized.  She turned her head but her arms were
above her head out of sight.

    Kristen tried to get up, but her bonds kept her secure.
Happy that she was now awake, I took the sliver of ice and
touched between her legs once more.

    "Ooh!" Kristen squealed as the cold ice touched her
sensitive genitals.

    I touched her with the ice again.  "That's 'Ooh, Master!'
to you, dearie."

    Kristen shook her head and realized that I turned the
tables on her.  Instead of looking worried, she smiled.  She
shook her wrists and heard the muffled jingle of the handcuff
chain between them.  "You found my handcuffs?"

    "Yup.  Unfortunately, I didn't see a key with them.  You
might be here a long time!"

    "It's in a small white envelope in the same drawer,"
Kristen told me.

    I didn't bother looking.  "You seem quite cheerful
despite the fact that you are tied to a bed, naked, and at
the whim of your Master."

    Kristen grinned.  "I like it... Master."

    I nodded.  "I figured you would.  You broke your own
rule, though."

    Looking up at me curiously, Kristen asked, "How?"

    "You told me three orgasms before you'd let me come."

    Kristen laughed.  "That was more like four, actually.
They were multiple orgasms, I think--one right after another.
That never happened to me with you before."

    "Really?" I asked.

    Multiple orgasms!  I hadn't been aware of the count; it
just seemed like one orgasm, albeit a rather massive one.  I
felt proud of myself!

    I noted offhand Kristen's use of the term "with you,"
which hinted that she may have experienced multiple orgasms
with another partner, which would only mean her brother.  I
forced that train of thought out of my mind, intent on not
allowing jealousy to raise its ugly head.

    Kristen nodded and got a dreamy look in her eyes.  "Yeah.
It was amazing.  It was like having you fuck me while I
sucked you... I got the sensations at both ends.  And when
they met..." She let the sentence just dangle there.

    "Well, the next time you want to tie me up, or the next
time you want me to tie you up, just let me know.  I don't
know if I want to do this every day, but this is quite fun."

    "I love you, Jim."

    "I love you, Goddess."

    I was actually quite tired from our little game.  I
turned around and got the envelope from the bottom of
Kristen's lingerie drawer, and unlocked Kristen's handcuffs.

    Once Kristen's arms were free, she reached up and pulled
me down onto her body.  "I love you, Jim," she said after
kissing me fiercely.  "I'll love you so fucking much!"

    "I love you, Kristen.  And I'll love you forever."

    Kristen looked me in the eyes.  I saw some expression
quickly pass over her face, but her face just as quickly
softened.  "I truly hope you will."

    The two of us snuggled together and Kristen fell asleep
once more.  I figured that she must have been exhausted.  I
watched her breasts rise and fall as she breathed in and out,
and I continued to marvel at her lovely body, watching it
completely relaxed, until I fell asleep.

    We both slept with our heads to the foot of the bed, and
sometime that night, Kristen must have gotten out and put a
blanket on my body--I might have been shivering since I
prefer sleeping in a warm bed.

* * *

    There was school the next day, and Kristen drove me
there.  Once she kissed me and headed for her homeroom, I
looked around and found Patty and Camille.  I jogged over to
them, and asked if they were looking forward to starting
school again after the holiday.

    "Well, it could be worse," Patty smiled.  "It's our last
year, and it's kind of funny, but I won't have another
Christmas vacation from high school again."

    "Not unless you flunk your subjects, or come back as a
teacher," Camille pointed out.

    "Or a janitor," I said, continuing Camille's thought.

    Patty smirked at the two of us.  "Jim, I think that
Camille's a bad influence on you... you're starting to crack
jokes more often." I saw a faraway look in Patty's eyes.
"Still, senior year is all about making memories.  It's
funny, but I never really thought about memories until this
year.  Now, there's a whole bunch of lasts: the last
Christmas vacation, the last Valentine's day.  You know."

    I never considered that; it seemed like something that
Kristen might want to talk about when we were alone.  "I
guess.  With me it's firsts: my first Christmas vacation, my
first New Year's.  My first girlfriend..."

    Patty smiled at me in an odd way.  "You're sweet, Jim.
Kristen's a lucky girl."

    "Where is Kristen, anyway?" Camille asked.

    "Headed off to class," I answered.  "I just noticed that
my two best friends were standing here and I had to at least
say, 'Hi!'"

    "That's the one thing you didn't say, yet," Camille
pointed out.

    "Hi!" I responded automatically.

    "So, what did you get for Christmas, Jim?"

    "Let's see.  An electric piano, a new suit, a tuxedo, a
remodeled apartment, and the start of a music studio... and
those were just from Kristen!"

    The two girls' mouths hung open.

    Camille was the first to speak.  "An apartment?  Are you
kidding?"

    "She remodeled the playroom, enlarging it to eventually
include the entire garage.  She says it's ours now."

    Camille looked thoughtful at that comment.

    Patty finally found her voice.  "And a tuxedo?"

    I nodded and then sighed.  "Kristen said that I'll wear
that when we get married.  If not, I'll wear it at my
funeral."

    The two girls looked at each other.  "Did she really say
that?" Patty asked.

    "Actually, she told me the first part," I admitted.
"Then I said a stupid thing, like, 'What if I don't get
married in that tuxedo?' and then she said the second part."

    Patty shook her head.  "Jim, you can't treat her feelings
like that."

    I lowered my head.  "Yeah.  I regretted saying that the
moment it came out of my mouth.  You're right, I might be
cracking too many jokes.  I think I was just trying to
recover from my amazement, as well as the fact that she seems
determined to spend the rest of her life with me.  It
sometimes feels as if I don't have a choice in the matter."

    Patty hugged me.  "It's going very fast for you, isn't
it?"

    I nodded.  "As fast as Kristen in her Camaro on Dodger
Road," I quipped, a reference to a deserted road near
Kristen's house where I've seen her hit speeds that would
frighten Mario Andretti.  "Patty... Camille... I would love
to spend the rest of my life just worshiping that wonderful
girl.  I know she feels the same way about me, but
sometimes... sometimes... I just... I don't know."

    Camille spoke up.  "Jim, you have music in third period.
Can you skip it?"

    I shook my head.  "Today's the first day back.  We're
getting the music for the spring concert.  And I also need to
put together a program for the jazz band."

    "After school is bad for me today... cheerleader
practice," Camille replied.  "How about third period
tomorrow?"

    I looked at the blonde haired senior.  "I'll talk to Mr.
Proilet.  I skipped his class once when I was in a funk about
something, but he didn't seem to mind.  He probably won't
mind if I let him know in advance."

    "I have lunch during third period," Camille explained.
"Can you meet me in the library tomorrow?"

    "Sure.  I'll need a library pass..."

    "I'll take care of that.  Just show up in the library for
third."

    The warning bell sounded, and the three of us departed
for our home rooms.

    Before music class started, I explained to Mr. Proilet
that I needed to use the library during class tomorrow, and
without hesitation, I was given permission.  Mr. Proilet also
made out a library pass for me.

    The day was normal until eighth period.

    I entered my English class, and as usual, I said "Hi!" to
Sherry before taking my seat.  Even before the late bell
rang, Ms. Taylor, my English teacher, called me to her desk.

    "You're constantly disrupting this class," she said, her
eyes blazing at me.  "You're on detention for the entire
week."

    "Huh?  What did I do?" I protested.

    "You know what you did," Ms. Taylor said.  "Get back to
your seat or it will be two weeks."

    I couldn't believe it.  I was on detention for the first
time in my life, and I didn't even have any idea about what I
might have done wrong!

    Detention meant that I would have to stay in Ms. Taylor's
classroom for an hour after school went out.  Since she was
my last class, I could just stay there.

    This was terrible--being on detention for a week would
mean that I would not be able to attend jazz band rehearsal
today, where we would have to start getting ready for the
spring concert.

    What did I do?  The only thing I did when I entered the
room was to say "Hi!" to Sherry and head for my seat.  I did
my homework, and I thought I was doing pretty well in class,
although an essay that I wrote right before vacation
contained many red marks in it--nitpicking, actually.  I was
debating whether to discuss that with the teacher, but right
now wasn't a good time for that.

    How could my teacher say that I was disrupting her class?
I didn't have any idea.  I rarely talked in class, and the
only thing that people giggled at (even more nowadays after
the Christmas concert) was when people called me "Oogie," but
that hadn't even happened in that class today.

    When the class let out, I went over to Sherry to have her
tell Kristen about my situation, but Ms. Taylor loudly told
me to take my seat and to shut up.

    Now, I knew that this was completely wrong!  There was a
ten minute period between the end of class and the start of
detention to allow people to get things ready or to get to
their class.  Instead of arguing with the teacher, I simply
ignored her and left the classroom to find Mr. Proilet.
There was jazz band rehearsal after class, and I needed to
let him know that I was going to miss it.

    My music teacher was gathering his papers when I found
him.  "Mr. Proilet, it seems that I have detention for a
week."

    "You?" Mr. Proilet asked, incredulously.  "What did you
do?"

    "I'm not sure.  Ms. Taylor didn't actually say.  She's
angry at me, and I won't be able to do the jazz class today."

    My teacher looked at me and sighed.  "You aren't a bad
student, Jim.  Are you telling me that Ms. Taylor didn't tell
you why you were put on detention?"

    "No," I said, my anger starting to rise again.  "It must
be some misunderstanding, but I should be in her class right
now."

    "Let me come with you," Mr. Proilet said.

    The two of us returned to my English class.  When Ms.
Taylor saw me, she was about to say something until she saw
Mr. Proilet, who was right behind me.

    "Rene�, Jim tells me that he has detention for a week."

    "Two weeks," Ms. Taylor said.  "He walked out on me after
I told him to stay after class."

    "He has jazz band rehearsal after class.  He came to tell
me that he wouldn't be able to make it."

    "I don't care if your little pet here isn't able to
attend his after school activity.  He's on detention and that
cancels extracurricular activities.  You are quite aware of
that."

    My music teacher looked at Ms. Taylor as if she grew
another head.  "Detention doesn't start until ten minutes
after school ends.  He came back on time... I'm here with
him!  Would you care to discuss this with the front office?"

    I saw Ms. Taylor glare at Mr. Proilet.  She started to
say something, but then stopped, and said, "All right.  It's
one week, at least for now."

    From the sound of Ms. Taylor's voice, I knew that she
would probably find a way to extend my detention.  I wondered
how this situation actually started.

    Looking from Ms. Taylor, to me, and then back, Mr.
Proilet decided that further intrusion would be unwise.  He
said, "I'll take care of the jazz band for you today, Jim."

    "Thank you," I said.

    I watched Mr. Proilet leave.  After he was gone, I said,
"Excuse me, Ms. Taylor, but if I have disrupted your class..."

    "You know very well what you did," Ms. Taylor snapped.
"Now, shut your face, take your seat and start writing an
essay about the importance of education."

    I sighed.  I opened my attach� case and retrieved a pen
and my notebook.  I saw my roll of tickets and rejected the
idea of using them on Ms. Taylor.

    I did the assignment, all the while thinking about the
injustice of all this.

    Kristen met me after class, and she took us to our
apartment.  Mr. Proilet had taken her aside during the
rehearsal and let her know why I wasn't at class.

    Kristen commiserated with me about the apparent injustice
over what my English teacher was doing, but she couldn't
offer any advice.  She also said that Mr. Proilet asked her
if she wanted to perform in the spring concert as a second
keyboardist.  Kristen didn't want to edge out Amy, so she
didn't give any definite answer.

    I nodded and then got an idea.  "What if you take the
electric piano that you got me for Christmas.  We would have
both Amy on acoustic and you on electric.  It could add a
nice texture to the sound of the band."

    "I'd have to drag it back and forth on Thursdays,"
Kristen pointed out.

    "I'll see if Mr. Proilet has access to a keyboard.  He's
young enough, and I think I remember him telling me that he
used to be in a rock band when he was in college."

    Kristen laughed at her mental image of my teacher in a
rock band, but agreed that it might be a workable idea.

    When we were at our apartment, Kristen took some
deli-sliced roast beef from her refrigerator, some French
bread, and then started making a gravy using some beef stock
in a can.

    Showing me the deep fryer and a bag of frozen French
fries, Kristen told me to cook the fries while she prepared
some sandwiches.  This quick meal quickly became one of our
favorites.  I made her promise me that we'd have French dip
sandwiches often.

    I did my homework at Kristen's apartment while Kristen
lovingly sucked my cock in her slow, minimally-distracting
way, and just before ten o'clock, she took me to my house.

    The next day, I found Mr. Proilet before school started,
and he said that he was unsuccessful in getting Ms. Taylor to
reprieve me from my detention, and that if I really thought
her actions were unfair, I might want to talk with the
assistant principal or, even better, the principal.  Mr.
Proilet even offered to accompany me if I wanted.

    I thanked Mr. Proilet, but decided to avoid any more
confrontations with Ms. Taylor and just do my assignments
after school.  I also reminded him that I'd be in the library
during third period, and told him about my idea of having
Kristen on electric piano.  Mr. Proilet lit up at my
suggestion and said he had a keyboard in his attic and
Kristen could plug it into one of the amplifiers we had at
the school.

    Sherry found me in first period and asked me what
happened in English.  I admitted that I had no idea and that
it all seemed to have come unexpectedly.  We didn't get to
talk much before History class began.

    When third period arrived, Camille was near the entrance
of the library.  I handed my pass to the librarian, and then
Camille led me to a table near the back of the room.

    "We need to talk, Jim."

    "This is about Kristen, right?" I asked.

    "Yes," Camille answered.  "It's also about your Lucky
Tickets."

    What the fuck?  How did Camille know about them?  The
only people that knew were Merry, who didn't know anything
about their powers, and Patty and Kristen, who were obligated
never to tell anybody.

    "Jim, I know about the tickets.  I have always known
about them, even before you did."

    My jaw dropped to the floor.  "What... What are you
talking about?"

    "Yeah.  You gave me number six, not knowing that they
don't work on me."

    I was just too confused.  "They don't work?"

    Camille sighed.  "I can't tell you too much about them.
My sister Debbie owned them for a while.  She gave me her
first one.  I saw them last August and avoided them like the
plague.  I saw what they did to Debbie.  Now you have them."

    The story was confusing.  "You avoided them?"

    "I can't say anything more about that," Camille said,
frowning.  "Debbie owned them for about six years."

    "Tell me about them," I begged.

    Camille looked around the library.  There wasn't anybody
else around, but she looked nervous.  "Can we meet after
school?"

    "Usually, Kristen takes me home, but I have detention
today."

    "You have detention?" Camille asked.  "Whatever for?"

    "I'm not sure, actually.  Teacher said I was disrupting
class, but all I did was say 'Hi!' to Sherry before class
even started."

    Camille looked at me strangely.  "Sherry looked upset
during practice yesterday." After a moment, Camille said,
"That means you missed out on your band rehearsal, doesn't
it?"

    "Yeah.  Mr. Proilet tried to talk some sense to Ms.
Taylor, but she didn't want to hear any of it."

    "Ms. Taylor... English class?" Camille asked.

    "Yeah."

    Camille shook her head.  "Oh, boy.  I'll try to find
Kristen and tell her that I'll drive you home this afternoon."

    I nodded absently, and said, "Kris and I have a date
tonight."

    Camille smiled and said, "I know.  Kristen always gets
all the hunks.  We really need to talk, even if only for a
couple of hours."

    "Kristen knows about the tickets."

    Camille looked at me strangely.  "I didn't know whether
you'd tell her about them after what you did to her with
them."

    "It's hard to explain to a girl why she's addicted to my
cock and sperm without telling her the truth."

    Camille said, "I wish I could have warned you, Jim, but
you really need to find out for yourself the problems that
those tickets can cause.  I didn't even know what you did to
her until the next day, when it was too late."

    I shrugged.

    Camille sighed.  "My sister found them when she was
fourteen," she said.  "I was twelve and you were about nine.
We were actually walking to your house to baby-sit you.  I
remember that day vividly.  However, I can't tell you more
until we're completely alone."

    "May I tell Kristen afterward?"

    Camille shrugged.  "Find out the story and then figure
out what you'll tell Kristen.  Some parts you will probably
not want to tell."

    Once again I shrugged, since I didn't completely
understand.

    The class bell rang, and I headed to the lunchroom.  A
few minutes after I arrived, I saw Kristen and Patty walk in
together.  Patty went onto the serving line, and Kristen
smiled at me and gave me a kiss.

    "What's up, lover?" Kristen asked.

    "Camille wants to talk with me after school.  Would you
mind if I have her drop me off at the apartment?"

    There was a sparkle in Kristen's eyes as she answered.
"Hot date at Lake Shore Point, huh?"

    "I think that might be where we'll go, but I only have
eyes for you, my fair Goddess."

    That earned me a bigger kiss.  Since we were in the
middle of the cafeteria, we drew some attention.  I could
hear people saying, "Way to go, Oogie!" but I ignored them
for the most part.

    At our table, Patty was sitting with Toby again, and he
was telling Patty about me giving him my silver trumpet and
some earplugs as a present.  Patty smiled at me as I
approached the table with Kristen.  Patty told me that she
and Toby broke up, but it seemed that their friendship
remained.  I was happy for them.

    "You weren't in music class today," Toby said when he
noticed me.

    I shrugged.  "I met with somebody."

    "You weren't at jazz band yesterday, either.  Mr. Proilet
has us working on Pink Panther again."

    "I'm on detention until next Wednesday," I said.

    "Ooh," Toby said, feeling my pain.  "That sucks!"

    Patty looked at me.  "Why are you on detention?  What did
you do?"

    "It beats the hell out of me.  It's as if Ms. Taylor has
taken a sudden dislike to me.  I said 'Hi' to Sherry Jordan
before class started, and Ms. Taylor told me that I was
disrupting class and I was on detention for a week."

    "This was before class even started?" Patty asked.

    "Yeah.  It's kind of crazy, actually."

    Patty seemed upset.  "So, what are you going to do?"

    "I'll write essays for the next week," I said.

    Patty, Toby, and even Kristen shook their heads, but
nobody had any real suggestions for me.

    I found Sherry before eighth period, and told her that I
wouldn't say anything to her, so Ms. Taylor wouldn't have
anything else to pin on me.  She told me she understood, and
even gave me a hug in the hallway.

    My essay assignment this day was to write about a happy
moment that I would like to relive.  The subject didn't seem
to be as punishing as the last one about the importance of
education, and it didn't take a lot of thinking for me to
come up with a happy moment.  In the past few months, every
happy moment involved Kristen.

    My mind wasn't really on writing.  Instead, I was
thinking about the lingerie shows that Kristen would give me
wearing high heels, fishnet stockings, garter belts, and bras
that didn't hide anything.  I was thinking about last autumn,
when Kris and I would lay down on a picnic blanket, reading
books, doing homework, and occasionally make love.  I was
thinking about how lovely Kristen looked despite her
disheveled appearance when she was fast asleep after I tied
her up the other night.

    The people in the jazz band considered Kristen to be my
muse, but I think she was more than that.  She was becoming
my reason for living.  She loved me and I loved her.  No
matter what could happen, even having teachers that had some
weird agendas against me, we still had each other.  Isn't
that love?

    The one thing that bothered me was Kristen's apparent
assumption that we would get married and spend the rest of
our lives together.  It wasn't that I didn't want this
myself, because I really did.  Although I had few doubts and
may have just wanted to keep my options open, it worried me
that Kristen didn't seem to think that any other future could
be possible.  I knew that I would have to talk to somebody
about that, most likely Patty.

    At the end of the hour, Ms. Taylor asked for my essay.  I
realized that I was writing while fantasizing about Kristen.
I glanced at what I wrote and found that I was a bit explicit
in my descriptions.  Since I needed to hand my assignment to
the teacher, and she asked for a description of a happy
moment, I just handed it in.  She made up the assignment, so
I'd let her deal with it.

    I left the classroom and found Camille nearby.  We walked
together to her car in the parking lot.

    Since we were going to talk about the tickets, I figured
that maybe, just maybe, I might finally make some sense of
things that were happening.

--
jimc_author@hotmail.com

JiMC is only a pseudonym.  Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours.

_________________________________________________________________
Don't just search. Find. Check out the new MSN Search! 
http://search.msn.click-url.com/go/onm00200636ave/direct/01/

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+