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Controlling Jennifer 8
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.
Controlling Jennifer X: Voice of Reason
For about a week, whenever someone knocked on the door,
Jennifer would automatically think it was Mark. She would slowly
slide to the door, preparing herself for his face, her mind furiously
trying to figure out what to say. And then she would open the door,
and it would be Amy, or Darlene after forgetting her key, or
someone else, and Jennifer would feel a strange double feeling,
let-down and relieved, all at the same time. And then, one day, she
opened the door without even thinking that it might be Mark. It
wasn't, and soon she stopped expecting him.
Francisco asked her out again, and she found herself making
an excuse, telling him she really needed to study in the library, and
she was sorry but maybe another time. She did it instinctively, not
particularly sure why at the time except that she really didn't
FEEL like it. Afterwards, she probed her mind, to decide on the real
reason she didn't want to go out with him. About the best she could
come up with was that he didn't excite her that much; she had first
approached him as a target for one of Mark's games, and she wasn't
sure she could think of him as anything else.
What if Mark really was gone? What if she had really seen the
last of him? Could she go back to her normal life again? Jennifer
honestly didn't know. She had been in complete control of her life
before he came, in control of all things: herself, her social life,
her studies. She could pretty easily get back in control of her
social life; it was all a matter of telling Francisco that she
wanted to take it slower, and then letting things run as before,
with her not doing anything she didn't feel like. If Francisco didn't
like that, well, it was all right; Jennifer didn't need him anyway.
She wasn't like Darlene. She really didn't feel any need to have a
boyfriend. School was also no problem. Her study habits had been
suffering from distraction, but without Mark, she thought that
would soon fade.
But what about herself? Mark had awakened something in
Jennifer, a certain restlessness. A desire to rush into things
against her better judgement. A desire to lose control. She was
addicted to the feeling, the I-can't-believe-I'm-doing-this feeling.
He had addicted her to it. It was like a beer commercial she had
seen as a freshman in high school. It was a typical commercial,
filled with happy beautiful people, but the image that had caught
Jennifer's mind was of a pretty dark-haired lady in a silver dress,
letting herself be pulled down a hallway. Apparently, she was
going to some party; at least that's the way she was made up. A
handsome man was pulling her along behind him, and as they rushed
down the hall, the lady turned and smiled at the camera. At
Jennifer. And her smile seemed to say, I don't know where he's
taking me, but I'm sure we'll have a great time once we get there.
Jennifer had been enchanted by the image at the time, but hadn't
been able to figure out exactly why until she had met Mark.
Submissiveness. The word itself was nasty, something
Jennifer had been trained all her life to reject. Never let yourself
be cowed, her father had told her. You can have anything you want
as long as you don't let anything stand in your way. For years, she
had approached all things with this attitude. All things including
sex.
But with Mark she discovered a strange paradox; even while
she was submitting to his words, she had power over him. The
lines between submission and domination were blurred, and he was
almost as much a slave to her actions as she was to his commands.
In the end, it didn't feel so much like she was giving him control,
it felt more like she was completely losing all control, giving her
puppet-strings to her body and its desires, and letting it run
rampant. For a young girl who had made certain she was
completely in control all her life, it was a very different feeling.
Not necessarily a good feeling, but a very tempting one.
And then came Tuesday night. She was lying in bed, tossing
and turning, not able to sleep. It was late, and Darlene was
sleeping soundly beside her, but Jennifer just couldn't sleep. She
felt that feeling in her body. A desire to let herself lose control,
and act against her better judgement. To go and do something
absolutely insane. Something she would never think of doing if she
was thinking clearly. To fight against it was a losing battle from
the beginning. But she ried. Tried and failed.
She got dressed in the dark, quietly so she wouldn't wake
Darlene. And all the time she was thinking to herself: why am I
doing this? This is absolutely mad! But she seemed powerless to
stop the feeling within her. To go to sleep at that point would have
been anticlimactic.
She slipped on a jacket, and was out the door.
The dorm was dark and quiet, except for a few insomniacs
watching t.v. in the lobby. Jennifer slipped out the door without
them seeing her. It was cold outside, and she shivered. Last chance
to back out, she thought, but she couldn't and knew it. The farther
she went, the more it seemed like a crime to turn back. She walked
out from the dorm.
Her mind was dancing crazily from one thought to the next,
noticing every detail around her. The night seemed alive, somehow
more vibrant than before. Or maybe she was just more sensitive to
it. Part of her was scared, of the dark and those who hid within it,
but that part was suppressed by a sense of destiny. She felt like
she was no longer in control of her actions, like her mind was the
prisoner of her body, and her body was being pulled along by some
force unknown to her. Without being fully aware of where she was
going, she soon found herself at the pond between the schools two
administration buildings. It was an artificially created pond,
stocked with green water lilies and millions of tiny guppies. At
night, small lights on the side of the pond gave the whole area a
hazy white surreal glow. Jennifer stood in this glow for a moment,
trembling, looking down at the pond.
It penetrated her trance that she was also illuminated in the
glow, and, still not understanding what she intended to do, she
glanced around nervously, then headed over to the rocks on the
right side of the pond. They served as a back drop to the entire
pond, a wall of gradually ascending rocks that rose behind it to
tower beside the adminstration building. Jennifer scrambled up
onto a low rock, then climbed onto the next highest rock, until she
was behind the pond on a platform of rock, about eight feet over
the surface of the water. The platform was big enough that she
could sit down, and she did, her back pressed against the rough
rock behind her. She trembled, and it was more than the chill of
the night. She was in the shadows, and was content that she wasn't
that visible from below. But she still shivered. Now came the big
step, and she wasn't sure she could really go through with it.
But a ddirious feeling of daring and anticipation rushed
through her as she contemplated it. She breathed deeply, and
started to untie her shoes. They don't make a difference, she
thought. I'm still decent if they're off.
But soon they were off, and so were her socks, and the
anticipation was soaring and plunging through her. She looked
around, making sure for one last time that no one was spying on
her. Then, her fingers trembling, she unsnapped her jeans.
She took them off slowly, awkwardly, and the wind rushed in
to embrace her bare legs. Her breathing was fast and nervous, and
she tried to sooth her frightened mind. No one is here, she told
herself. No one can see you. Her fingers ran against the fabric of
her panties, rubbing against the rough lace. Now she was indecent.
You couldn't see anything, but that didn't matter. She traced the
line of her slit through the cloth, and felt a shot of momentary
pleasure until it was washed away by the cold fear that she was
being watched. She glanced around. No one. Just paranoia.
She pulled off her jacket, and put it in the growing stack of
clothes. Her fingers gripped the edge of her t-shirt. This was it. No
bra underneath to hide her. Once this was off, she was officially
naked. She held her breath and slipped it off.
The feeling was incredible! Both the night on her nude body,
and the rush that went through her soul. I'm actually doing this!
she kept thinking to herself, over and over. She presse against the
rock behind her, the rough stone digging into her bare back, and she
looked in wonder at her naked breasts jutting out from her body,
open to the night.
Her panties joined the pile of clothes, and she sat, shivering,
feeling the cold stone against her butt. She pulled her legs to her,
squeezing them, running her fingers from her ankles to her thighs,
as if making sure she was actually bare. Her legs felt long and
smooth, and Jennifer extended them away from her. This increased
her feeling of exposure, and her mind fought between fear and
thrill. Her pubic triangle was dark in the shadow, and she slipped
her finger along the rough strands of hair. To be REALLY exposed, a
voice in the back of her head reminded her, you would have to
spread your legs. After all, that's the classic position of the
decadent woman. Jennifer, trembling, started to scissor open her
legs. But no, if she really wanted to do it, she would have to turn
and face the pond. That way, anyone who stood there and faced the
right direction would be able to look right at her pussy.
She inched around ninety degrees, and pressed her back
against the concrete wall of the administration building. My god,
I'm crazy, she thought. Mark's gone, but that doesn't matter, I've
got him now in my head, telling me things to do. For some reason,
this thought struck her as funny, and she fought off a giggle. 3, 2,
1, go for it, Jenn. And she pulled open her legs, spreading them
before the world.
A couple seconds, while she looked around dazed, making sure
no one was actually watching her. Then she let her gaze fall
downward, and her heartbeat raced to see her exposed slit. She
closed her eyes, and let her hand fall between her legs, probing
herself. She was still pretty dry, but that was all right, it was
hard to get turned on in the cold, and the thrill she felt was more
than sexual. She dug her finger as far in herself as she could, then
slowly moved it around, feeling the soft warmth both around her
and within her. Her thumb brushed against her clit, sending small,
cold bursts of pleasure through her. It would be impossible to
masturbate to any sort of peak; she was just too cold and nervous
to even fake it. Instead, she pressed her hand against her pussy,
feeling the soft contours of it against her palm, caressing it
gently in a nervous massage.
What now? She looked uneasily down into the pond. The water
looked cold, and she wasn't sure she could actually go through with
it. What if someone saw her? Jennifer pulled back into the
shadows, squeezing her arms against her breasts. It felt strange,
to feel the bare tips of her nipples against her arms; she was used
to the fabric. Once more, she looked down into the pond, into the
lightly illuminated depths. She thought about her naked body wet
and gleaming in the flourescent lights. An image of herself
standing knee-deep, like a water nymph, wet and innocent, while
trickles of pond water dripped down her breasts and jumped off
her nipples. Then she thought about herself, wet, cold, and
vulnerable, captured in the glowing lights. I can't, she thought. It's
just too much.
But now, once her clothes were off, she almost couldn't bring
herself to put them back on. She wanted to enjoy her nakedness as
long as she could. The stars were twinkling in a relatively clear
sky above her, and Jennifer leaned back against the rock wall and
watched them. All the while, she felt the cold night goosebumping
her skin.
Finally, paranoia struck her, more than before. She thought
she heard rustling. Maybe a security guard. Maybe a psycho. She
scrambled back into her clothes, and was off into the night like a
thief.
The walk back was numb in her mind, passing before she
realized it, and she found herself settled in bed, hot and sweating
despite the cool night air, her heart beating furiously underneath
the covers. I can't believe I just did that, she thought. And she felt
the rush.
And so Jennifer didn't know what to do anymore. Mark had left
her, but he was not completely gone from her life. His voice still
spoke in her head, the voice of temptation, telling her things she
shouldn't do, making her think about doing them.
And then, two weeks after she had last seen him, on the
Friday night she might have spent with Francisco if she had
wanted, Jennifer opened the door, and there was Mark. It was three
days after her night escapade. She hadn't expected to see Mark. Yet
there he was.
She regarded him with shock. She had told herself she might
never see him again, but had never really believed it. And here he
was. His hair was somewhat disheveled, and his eyes were dull. As
Jennifer looked at him, she felt something twinge inside her, like
someone had tapped her heart with an icicle, and she wished he
would grin his confident grin. The way he looked... he looked like a
haunted man. Like someone who had been thinking a little too much.
"Mark." she said. "I was wondering if I woul see you again."
"Did you want to?" he asked quietly. She could almost barely
hear him.
"Where did you go? I looked for you afterwards..." she let her
voice fade, hoping he would supply the rest.
He did not. She heard him speak, felt his power catching hold
of her, and she realized what he was saying a split-second before
he completed his statement. "Jennifer, forget me." She opened her
mouth to protest, to cry out and make him stop before he could
finish.
And then she found herself faced with a strange man. His eyes
stared at her with an uncomfortable intensity, and they were
filled with pain. She wondered why. "Can I help you?" she asked
him. Maybe he was one of Darlene's friends.
"No. No, I'm sorry." his voice was trembling. "I must have the
wrong room. Sorry to bother you." And he turned to walk off. His
shoulders were hunched, and Jennifer watched him go with
curiousity. A strange man... yet he looked... familiar?
She felt depresed for some reason. She felt like she was
losing something, but couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe it was
because of the guy. He had seemed depressed, maybe it was rubbing
off on her.
Jennifer shrugged and went back to her desk. Her mind kept
returning to the man's face, and how familiar he seemed. But try as
she might, she couldn't place him. Finally, she gave up, and
returned to studying.
To be continued
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