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Beth in Stocks
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Beth in Stocks
This story contains mf scenes of bd, and sex.
It is a FANTASY, a work of FICTION.
If you are easily influenced by what you read, or have difficulty
telling the difference between fantasy and reality - STOP READING
THIS NOW; DON'T READ ANY FURTHER!!!
This story is for the entertainment of adults; I am not
advocating that anyone act out any of the scenes contained in it.
This story might be considered to be about "love bondage".
This story is not to be read by anyone under the age of 21.
Please, do not send flames or requests!
You have been warned!
You may re-post this story in the future, but since it's a first
draft, I may add to it and repost it later myself.
Comments and constructive criticism are welcome.
<happy boy>
Beth in Stocks
Hello, my name is Beth.
I am writing this account to help me sort out my feelings about a very
strange experience I had last night. Perhaps I'll show it to my
boyfriend when I'm finished.
First, I'll describe myself.
I am a college student at a small midwestern university, majoring in
English. I am 22 years old. I am very petite. I think of myself as
somewhat average looking, but I'm not very good at describing my looks,
so I'll just tell you that some of my friends have called me "a girl-
next-door type", "real", "not a fashion model - more like a princess
in disguise".
I think my forehead is too high, my breasts are a bit asymmetrical, and I
have a few awkwardly placed freckles, but none of my boyfriends (I've had
three) has ever complained.
Last night, it seemed I "awoke" in a very strange position. My body was
folded up into some type of "stocks"; essentially a wooden board with padded
holes for my neck, wrists, and ankles. This board was hanging by chains
from a steel frame that was being wheeled quickly down the hallway of my
dorm by two young men whom I did not know.
I was naked.
No, not entirely; as I carefully tried to turn my head to the right, I
could see, on the other side of my hand, that I was wearing a white pump
with a four inch heel. I did not recognize it. Since it was so
difficult to turn my head, I just assumed that my left foot was similarly
shod.
I must have been a bizarre sight as I swung to and fro, much like an IV
bottle on a hospital gurney.
The breeze caused by our passage stiffened my nipples and blew over my
lips down below.
At about this time, sleep left me completely. I think I had thought this
was merely a naughty dream I was having until then. As my head cleared,
I began to yell. "Help! Help!!" I cried.
One of the men gave me an incredibly hard slap on my bare ass, and
growled: "Shut up, bitch!" He was clearly worried that someone would hear
me. In my pain and shock, I remained silent.
At this point we came to the door of what I recognized as the lounge on
my floor of the dorm. There was only one person there, and I did not
recognize him. He was not handsome, but not too bad-looking. I decided
that I "would". I had found from conversations with my friends that I
was not alone in this habit; whenever I met a new man, I would
immediately decide whether I would or would not allow him to make love to
me. This does not mean that I WILL go to bed with him, but it does sort
of determine what types of relationships I can have with that guy. I
imagine men do much the same thing when they meet a woman.
The two men shut the door of the lounge, unhooked the board from the
chains, and placed me on the couch, next to the other man. They had
to sort of prop me up against the cushions. My position would have
been ridiculous, if I hadn't been so frightened; back against the
cushions, head, hands, and feet in the air, my sex completely exposed
to the air, and to their eyes. If I was not so limber (I had been doing
aerobics and stretching, off and on, for the last couple of years), I
would not be able to get into this postion at all. As it was, I was able
to keep my head, hands, and feet all pretty much lined up, without too
much discomfort. I wondered how long I would have to stay this way, though.
With a final hungry look at my exposed sex, the two men left. I did not
know what to say or do. I wanted to beg him to free me, to ask him what
was going on. I wanted to break down into tears of embarrassment, but I
did not yet dare to do any of these things.
What happened next was really bizarre. He introduced himself as Pat, and
shook my hand. I found my hand shaking his automatically, although my
wrist motions were limited by the stocks. When I didn't respond further,
he asked my name. "Beth," I said in a tiny voice. Then he asked me if I
wanted to watch tv. I nodded my head dumbly.
For the next hour, we watched television. No one disturbed us. The tv's
volume was turned down low; I didn't pay much attention to the program,
although it was a PBS nature documentary, and as an animal lover, I would
normally have been quite interested.
Pat watched it a little, and read a magazine; I tried to sneak a looks
at him whenever he was reading. He was fully dressed; I was naked. It
didn't seem at all fair.
Several times during that hour, I asked him to let me go. I asked him
what this was all about. Each time, he ignored me. It was as if I had
not even spoken! I don't mean we didn't talk; we talked about many other
things, just not the most obvious ones. After seeing that it was no use,
I finally just stopped raising these subjects.
After a while, I realized that this was turning into a bizarre kind of
"date". Another hour went by, and another. I now had no idea what was on
the tv. We talked about classes, professors, our future plans. At times
I actually forgot my predicament, and laughed at his jokes! Eventually, we
had moved far beyond small talk. We talked about our fears, hopes, and
dreams; we shared intimate secrets. Pat seemed to know me like no stranger
could.
Pat got up and turned off the overhead lights. By the light of the single
lamp remaining, he made his way back to the couch, sitting down right
next to me. He leaned over, gently put his hands around my head, and he
gave me a long, tender kiss. I could hardly believe this - here I was,
bound, naked, making out with a boy I had just met!
The board got in the way a little, but Pat ignored it.
Soon I was kissing him back; I became bold enough to french him
shamelessly. A sudden coolness from evaporation told me I was getting wet
below.
We petted and made out on the couch as if we were two fully-dressed high
school kids in the back seat of a car. I had never known a man who could
make foreplay last so long when I was already unclothed. At last, I could
stand it no longer. "Please, please..." I panted.
"Please...what?" asked Pat, as he kissed my breasts.
"Please put it in me..." I said.
"Don't you want it in your mouth first?" he asked.
"Yes," I said "I want to suck your cock."
Pat quickly removed his clothes, grabbed my heels, and slowly approached
my mouth with his dick. He put it in and began to gently pump my mouth.
Using my feet as levers and my ass as the pivot point, he rocked me back
and forth. Do you have any idea what a slut I felt like at that moment?
But I was completely helpless. There was no way I could stop him from
using my body even if I wanted to. There was nothing for me to do but
enjoy it.
He pulled out of my mouth, then kissed my closed eyelids. Then Pat
interlaced his fingers with mine, and began to fuck me slowly. I lost
track of how many times I came that night.
When my last shuddering orgasm was over, Pat stood up and clapped his
hands three times, saying, "The experiment is over, Beth, awake."
As he carefully helped me out of the stocks and handed me my robe, I
remembered everything; how I had told my boyfriend Pat about my
submissive fantasies, how Pat's friend had hypnotized me, and the fact
that this floor of my dorm was empty since it was the end of the quarter.
Later that night, as we in bed together, I asked Pat if he had any
other fantasies planned for me.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he said.
The End?
<happy boy>
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