The Acolyte: First Seduction

I stood at the window, wondering just how I had come to be here. Me, a sex slave to a beautiful woman! Here I was, a grown man, taken completely out of the life I had known and thrust into one that I could barely have imagined. Well, that's not entirely true--I had imagined it, hadn't I?

***

It all began, really, when I was a tender sixteen years old. I was really clueless--some said I was a geek-- but I was good-looking enough if very young. I had had only two girlfriends; there had been very heavy petting (they seemed to get great pleasure out of my attention to their breasts and neck), but little else. Once, in a fit of passion, the second my two lovelies introduced me to the joys of adult sex--or at least to basic sex. I was hooked.

***

The summer of between my sophomore and junior years of high school, I spent much of my time with the gaming community and with other computer literati. Sex was not a big part of our lives, and yet there were women around, and we dated them. Not seriously, but friendly.

One evening, while a party began to wane, I trooped up to the attic-bedroom of a lady barely known to me, on the pretense of looking at a new book, sword, or some such. I don't remember now. Oddly enough, I followed her without thought to her Athenic beauty; tall, statuesque, chiseled and blonde, she was the Norse equivalent of the Greek ideal. She was only nineteen, but capable and sure in most things, but not everything. She moved with a cat-like grace, bounding up the stairs two at a time. In anticipation, as it turned out.

There, in the web of her ambush, I innocently perused the dusty volume she had shown to me, finding it vaguely but not particularly interesting. After several minutes of scanning it for some sign of importance, or perhaps of interest, I looked up. Something was wrong. Not wrong in the critical--life-in-the-balance kind of wrong, but wrong in the sense of unusual. Wrong as in surprise.

"Well, maybe it's not so interesting," she began.

I didn't say anything; I had no experience against which to measure the feelings now coursing like black lightening through my soul. It was a feeling I would learn to savor and even to crave. But for now it was alien, and I stood frozen. She was there, not far away, and there was something in the air that was unfamiliar. I remained poised, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"But there is something else that is more so." She seemed to purr out the words.

Still I remained frozen, unable to move. I felt an uncontrollable urge to turn about, but an equal one pulling me in the opposite direction. The two forces canceled exactly, and I remained rooted to the floor.

"Put the book down." The words etched themselves on my consciousness, leaving smoking engravings on the part of my brain that was, and is, in charge of sexual response. Slowly, completely compelled, I put the book down. Even more paralyzed, my eyes remained glued to it, in fascination, as if it was the cause of my new, alien response. A few hundred heartbeats seemed to pass, though it seemed like hours. A faint shiver ran through my system; perhaps goose bumps dotted my flesh. I don't know. The spell was temporarily broken by the soft sound of the door closing, sealing this world, her world, from the dying noise of the party. At the break in the spell I found myself finally released from the compulsion, and I turned to flee.

I don't know, even to this day, why I determined to flee. Perhaps it was the masculine side of my mind striving against control; I don't know. There is something of it still with me today, something that spices my encounters with Alana and her friends. In any case I did turn to flee, but turned directly into her strong arms, arms that bound me for an instant, and then, as I turned my face into hers intending a challenge, she planted a full, passionate kiss on my stunned lips.

I did not return the kiss, but offered only passive resistance. She rose to the challenge, forcing her tongue deeper into my mouth, trying to gain my acquiescence. I could not. I was too young, and too surprised. But nor could I flee.

***

Her arms still securely around me, she guided me to the bed and, tongue still gliding over my neck, ears and still resistant lips. She unbuttoned my shirt, planting unreturned caresses along my neck, chest, and stomach. Her touch should have brought electricity, but instead it brought only more defiance. She pulled away from me slightly, her weight pressed against me, while we both lay in her bed. She looked at me with some annoyance, and I began to sense that perhaps this was very, very different from the encounters I had had before. Slowly, she pulled my shirt above my head, but did not remove the sleeves from my wrists, pinning them. She smiled as I began to realize my position, smiling at the submission she had won.

"Don't move." Now she really purred. "Don't say a word. I want your body--and I've made it mine. Tonight I will take my pleasure with you, and you will do nothing to resist me." I started to say something in response, but the words died in my throat as her spell wove itself completely around me. She pulled my arms tight above my head, instructing me to leave them there and not to move them. As if in a fog, I complied.

Her bed was a futon stretched out on the floor; hard and flat. This was something I had only sensed in that gray fog of semiconsciousness that plays in the dark recesses of human sexuality. Satisfied with her spell, she then stood above me, legs astride my now helpless form, taking pleasure in her towering presence of command. Looking me directly in the eye, she reached down and fluidly removed her T-shirt, revealing ample, rounded breasts whose large aureole sported very interested nipples. Tossing the shirt aside, she played her hands up her jeaned hips and onto her waist, continuing upwards until they massaged those transfixing breasts and teasing her own nipples. She smiled at me, noticing perhaps that my breathing had shallowed.

Stepping cat-like to one side, she shed her jeans in a single motion. There were no panties beneath, and her blonde bush beckoned with slippery promise. I had never seen a _real_ blonde before, and I nearly lost control. A stern look from her forestalled my error, and she again stood above me, legs apart, allowing my eyes to play up the long calves and shapely thighs. Teasingly, she began to move her hands over her body, slowly, caressing her own legs, her waist, and her hips. Then, with deliberate slowness, she moved one hand between her legs, spreading herself above me, playing with her soft folds. Her other hand played up to her breast, gently coaxing the nipple further. Ripples of pleasure played across her body, and she arched her head upwards in an obvious orgasm.

It was too much for me. I gasped as she did, not spilling come, but with surprise. I was not conscious of my hardness pressing against the confines of my shorts and jeans; I was literally overwhelmed with this encounter by feminine surety and nearly coughed out my surprise. Pouncing like a tigress, she collapsed upon me at once, obviously furious. With one hand she held my arms firmly, pinning them by grabbing the shirt that still bound them together. Her weight came down upon me, pinning my midsection, capturing the head of my swollen cock. She glared at me through with all the intensity that her green eyes could muster, which was considerable, and her other hand shot behind her and captured my balls, even through the jeans. All of this in a fraction of a second. The speed of the attack had thrown me completely off track--as was her intent. A few moments passed with her eyes still boring into my soul before she spoke. It was like I had waited for five years for her to talk when she finally began.

"I told you," she started in a low monotone, a full octave below her normal husky tone, "I told you not to move and not to speak." She waited for several moments for her domination to sink in. "You will not disobey me again, or you will leave here without coming, and with a great deal of discomfort." She squeezed my balls hard, for emphasis. No one had ever done it before, and it got my attention like nothing else ever had. "And just for that, you'll service my pussy until the break of dawn, when I may let you come." She paused in thought, and then continued, "And if you move, even once more, you'll pay the price. I am not playing--don't move."

Too many conflicting thoughts ran through my head--I couldn't focus on any of them and in the end, there was only one thing to do--submit. And so I laid perfectly, rigidly still as she removed the belt from my jeans and firmly tied my wrists together. She removed my jeans with the precision of a skilled craftsman, deftly sliding the cloth from each leg without hindrance. She deliberately positioned her pussy only inches from my face as she bound my legs together, my jockey shorts still in place. I ached for her; I ached to run my tongue over her blonde delight. It was to be the first time for me, making love to a woman's sex this way, but it was not to happen for a time yet.

Pausing to allow the musk of her scent overpower my nostrils, she slowly rose to a kneeling position, drawing a knife from a hidden place near the futon. I strained to see through the arch of her pussy and thighs, and my heart skipped several beats as the blade descended towards my genitals. Quickly, surgically, she cut the jockeys from my hips, drawing the remnants of them from under my ass. She then rose, using the severed underwear as a blindfold, affixing it in place with a pin from her hair.

"Hmmm," she purred again, now happy with the situation. "How nice and helpless you are." Something hard and cold touched my inner thigh--I could not tell what it was. I nearly gasped, and she caught the near-failure, offering one more, perhaps the last, warning. "Don't even think of making a single sound--not even a gasping breath." Next, soft fingers played over my neck and shoulders, working down to the nipples. Later, they would be captured in close pins, but not tonight. That particular test was completely unknown to me, so it did not cross my imagination, though it might have passed by hers. Testing, she played with my body, sensing that I preferred the soft, light touches. These caused maximum reaction, just barely short of the limit she challenged me to break. She teased me to hardness for a long time, and then, pausing only long enough to shift position, straddled my head.

Her scent and her sex surrounded me powerfully as she played along my inner thighs. Her sex hovered very close to my face; exactly how close I could not tell but it was close. She then played a very light, almost hair-like caress across the underside of my balls, and I was undone. I gasped sharply.

Now angry, with a reaction that matched her earlier shift between soft and rock-hard, she delivered a single, very sharp blow to my balls. It was not hard, but sharp enough to cause me to convulse forward with the surprise of it. I came forward directly into her pussy, smearing my face with her juices as I tried to marshal against the surprise and startlingly low level of pain. She leaped from my face, for several awful moments I did not know what to do. Was the scene over? What was I to do?

The answer was not long in coming. Her husky voice ambushed me out of the darkness of my blindfolded reverie. "You were warned, and now, having ignored my wishes and shown that you have no discipline, I will teach you something you need to learn." Gruffly, she rolled me over onto my stomach, while warning me not to cry out. "Remember," she said, "if you cry out it will only be worse." Several very short millennia passed before the first narrow, sharp line of pain chiseled itself across my buttocks. She was using some sort of narrow rod, made of who knows what, something that was flexible enough to transmit an incredible amount of stored energy directly into my exposed ass-flesh, leaving a bright red streak. I very nearly did cry out, but some part of my consciousness forced the cry down my throat, barely in time. A few moments passed, and she cooed, "Now then. You will receive five strokes for being a very poor boy-toy. If, during any of those five strokes you cry out, you will receive three more for each cry." A few more moments passed before she purred, "Ready?"

She put some good force into the four remaining strokes, but not as much as the first one. I was able to stand the humiliation of it, and in fact had exactly the opposite reaction to what I would have expected. My cock actually pressed against itself, threatening to burst. During the strokes her breathing became irregular, and excited, she was unable to continue full-heartedly and as soon as the fifth stroke had been laid, she rolled me over and in one motion impaled herself upon me. We both came immediately.

***

A long time passed before she stirred, this amazon who completely possessed me. She removed my blindfold, tossing it aside casually, peering at me through slitted cat's eyes. She seemed to consider something for a long time, and then slowly began. "As I remember, my fine sex pet, you have a debt to fulfill."