|
Diana's Fantasy [mf, light bond & dom, pseudo nc]
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.
trouble admitting so. The "consensual" nature of what follows is therefore a
bit hazy. Even so, the story is relatively mild compared to a lot of what one
sees in this newsgroup; but it's still quite politically incorrect. Long live
freedom of expression! Down with Big Brother! :-)
Comments on the story are welcome.
DIANA'S FANTASY
Anonymous; 24 July 1994
The theater finally grew quiet as the last of the audience
filed out through the lobby and the stage-crew finished up their
work. Opening night had been a big success, and Diana felt a
warm glow of satisfaction, pleased that she had carried off her
part very well. She was a dancer, and the part in this musical
had been her most difficult challenge yet.
"Great job, Di," said one of the other performers, patting
her on the back.
"Thanks," she said; "You looked great, too! See you
tomorrow." She retreated to her dressing room, slipped out of
her costume, and stepped into the wash-room to clean up. The
other cast-members all seemed to be in a hurry to go out and
celebrate, and several invited Diana to come with them; but she
politely declined, taking her time in front of the mirror. Most
of them probably would not mind her absence too much anyway, she
reasoned, because she knew that most of them were gay men. One
by one, they all departed, until she was the last person
remaining in the dressing area.
"G'nite, Di," said the director on his way out. "Make sure
to lock the door behind you."
"Sure thing," she answered. At last, she was alone. Diana
smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she slowly, gently
sponged herself with a basin of warm, soapy water. Her family
was Chinese, but she had grown up in the States and considered
herself 100% American. Her silky black hair reached down to her
shoulders, and many men had told her she was beautiful. They
seemed to find her Asian features exotic, although she had never
really been able to understand what they found so remarkable. In
fact, she had always been desperately shy; and she could still
hardly believe that she had found the courage to become a dancer
on stage. Yet her 5'7", 118-pound figure showed the results
clearly enough: years of practice and rigorous exercise had left
her marvelously fit, with firm muscles and extraordinary stamina.
Her shyness had long been a burden. Until recently, she had
never even had a real boyfriend, thanks as much to her prudish,
traditional parents and the demands of her career as much as her
own reluctance. But then she had met Jack, a member of the back-
stage technical crew who had begun showing a polite but
persistent interest in her. Jack was a body-builder, and at
first she could not believe that such a handsome, muscular,
thoroughly masculine man could have noticed her. But he had, and
she had quickly come to regard him as a close friend. He was
also an American Indian by heritage, and she found his features
as exotically arousing as he seemed to find hers.
Diana wanted--needed--more than just a friend. Already 25
years old, she had never met a man who could satisfy her. True,
she had made love a few times before; but it had been no good.
Afterwards, she had always felt low, dirty, and unfulfilled. She
told herself it was just her stupid up-bringing, but it didn't
matter. Yet somehow, she knew that Jack could be different.
That was why she had made up her mind to confide in him, to tell
him her most secret feelings, about what she really wanted from a
man. It hadn't been easy, even though she knew she could trust
him. When she had gotten the last of it out, she had begun to
cry, afraid that he would laugh, or think she was mentally
unstable. He had looked a bit surprised, but then it seemed
okay; he had curled his massive arm around her narrow shoulders
and told her he understood, and that everything was going to be
absolutely fine.
That had been last weekend, but now, on Friday night, she
was no longer so sure. There had been no time for them to do
more than chat briefly during the hectic schedule of rehearsals
leading up to opening night, especially since they both had other
jobs during the day. Last night, however, he had left a note in
her dressing room, which she now held in her slender fingers and
read again:
Your fantasy will begin after the performance Friday
night. Remain in your dressing room after everyone
else leaves. Wear whatever makes you feel most
beautiful. Remember that it is a fantasy. If you wish
to stop at any time, simply say "South Dakota". Do not
forget this phrase! Otherwise, I will remain in
control. Enjoy, and best of luck with the show;
they're going to love you! --J.
What did he mean? she wondered. Surely not what she had
hinted at last weekend. The more she thought about it, the more
she wished that she had never spoken of the things she had; but
once the words were out, it was too late. Surely he didn't mean
to ... to do ... but no, she simply didn't want to think about
it. She would simply get dressed, and when he arrived, she would
just tell him that she preferred to go out for coffee or
something.
Nevertheless, the clothes she had brought along were just
what Jack had suggested. They were ... well, she had to admit to
herself, downright sexy. But they were all she had brought,
unless she wanted to change back into the sweaty outfit from that
afternoon. No, thanks, to that idea. Since she was dressing up
anyway, maybe they could go out for a drink at someplace nice.
Diana opened her bag and took out a pair of black silk
panties. After slipping them on, she took out a lacy garter
belt, which she hitched around her narrow waist. Next came a
pair of black silk stockings, and she gently drew them up over
her smooth, muscular calves, past her trim knees, and up to the
middle of her firm thighs, where she attached the garters. After
making sure her stocking seams were straight, Diana stepped into
a pair of black, spike-heeled pumps with red ribbons. A black,
lacy, low-cut brassiere embraced her firm, 36" bust, and finally
she slid into a silvery, slinky dress that she had bought just
this afternoon. She certainly would not have had the confidence
to wear something like this a few weeks ago, she reflected,
noting how the dress showed off a considerable amount of her
cleavage and barely covered the tops of her stockings. But now,
she could only admit to herself that she did look beautiful.
Admiring herself briefly in a full-length mirror on one wall, she
noted with satisfaction how the stockings and heels showed off
her dancer's legs to good advantage, lending just the right
tension to her finely-curved calves, tapering gracefully to her
well-turned ankles. A modest pearl necklace, earrings, and light
make-up completed the job, and Diana sat down to brush her hair
in a leisurely fashion.
How long would it be before Jack showed up? she wondered.
There shouldn't have been much tech work backstage for him to
take care of tonight, and he could let himself in with his own
keys whenever he chose. Diana was idly thinking of coffee,
trying to ignore an undertone of nervous anticipation, when the
lights in her dressing room suddenly went off, and the door
opened behind her. In her mirror, she could see only the
silhouette of a tall, muscular man--obviously Jack, of course,
but with his face hidden in shadow. He quickly placed his large,
powerful hands on her shoulders.
"Don't turn around," he said quietly but firmly, his breath
hot on the back of her neck. "Is there anything you want to tell
me?" It certainly was Jack, she was sure ... but what did he
mean?
"Well," Diana said, "I was just thinking about going out for
coffee and ..."
"I don't care about that," he said sharply, almost in a
hiss. "There's only one thing you can say that will make any
difference now, and you know what it is."
Oh, of course, she realized; he wanted to see if she were
going to say the code-phrase he had given her in his note. What
was it? South ... South Da ... Diana knew the name of the
state, and it was poised on the tip of her tongue. Yet for some
reason, her lips would not seem to co-operate. Instead, her
mouth simply went slack, and it occurred to her that even if she
screamed, there was probably no one else anywhere near the
theater to hear her now.
"Jack, I don't know if ..." she began weakly; but again he
cut her off.
"In that case, I don't want to hear a word out of you; and
don't call me Jack. I'm a stranger, and there's nothing you can
do to stop me."
*Oh, my God*, Diana thought, suddenly feeling truly afraid.
But it *was* Jack, she reminded herself quickly, and she knew she
could trust him not to hurt her. Couldn't she? She decided to
keep quiet and see what he wanted. Without turning around, he
kicked the door shut behind him, leaving the room dark except for
a bit of light reflected under the bottom of the door.
"I'm going to do whatever I please with you," the man told
her quietly, his breath now in her left ear. "I won't hurt you,
but understand this: you are in my power, and there's only one
way you can stop me. I won't remind you what it is, because I
know that you remember."
"No. You'd better let me go. Open the door," she told him,
surprised at the weak, uncertain sound of her own voice.
"No chance. Now be quiet, and clasp your hands behind your
head."
*I can't believe this is happening*, Diana's mind screamed
silently to itself. Her heart was beating like a jack-hammer,
and she drew a deep breath. Should she play along, or should she
try to stop him? Should she scream? No, she decided; no one
would hear anyway, and it might make him angry. Suddenly, the
question seemed irrelevant as he slipped the palm of his hand
over her face, passing it over her eyes, nose, and lips; but he
did not try to silence her. Diana relaxed slightly and obeyed
him by slowly raising her arms and lacing her fingers behind her
head.
The man moved closer behind her, thrusting his hips against
her behind and pressing her pelvis against the front of her
dressing table. She gasped as she felt a great, bulging shape in
his pants pushing against the cleft of her buttocks. His hands
went swiftly to her breasts, which were jutting high out in front
of her because of the position she was in. He clutched them
greedily, squeezing the tender flesh through the fabric of her
dress and sliding his thumbs across the tips, where her nipples
immediately began to stiffen, slipping sensually against the
silky brassiere. An involuntary trickle of pleasure began to
creep through her.
But she had to stop him! What would her family think if
they could see her now? With a small cry that came out as more
of a squeak, Diana tried to turn and push him away; but he
immediately grabbed her wrists and forced them together behind
her back, holding them both firmly with just one of his powerful
hands. With his other one, he reached down and slid his palm
slowly up her right leg, starting at the back of her knee and
relentlessly continuing past the top of her stocking, stroking
the smooth flesh of her thigh. Pushing up the slinky hem of her
dress, he went further, finally reaching the bottom of her
panties where her buttock began.
"You are so *hot*!" he whispered in her ear. "I watched you
dance tonight. You gave me a hard-one. Every man in the
audience wanted you, but I knew that only I was going to have
you. You're mine now, and I'm going to prove it. I'm going to
do what I want with you. I'm going to make you squirm, and I'm
going to make you whimper."
"Please don't. You've got to stop," she choked out between
sharply drawn breaths.
"Shut up. You know I won't stop." He suddenly slapped her
lightly on the side of her fanny, and she gasped in surprise. It
did not really hurt, but the slap made a resounding >crack< in
the confines of the small room. He did it again, then began
firmly massaging the whole cheek, grasping almost all of it in
his big, shameless hand. Then he reached lower, between her
legs, and slid his long, merciless middle finger across her most
private parts, feeling the slick wetness of her excitement
already soaking through the crotch of her panties. In the
darkness, he smiled to himself.
Suddenly, still pinning her wrists in the small of her back,
he reached up with his other hand and jerked down the zipper on
the back of her dress.
"No!" she protested.
"Yes," he replied, his voice as unyielding as his body,
which felt like a wall of granite behind her. Releasing her
wrists, he grabbed the hem of her dress with both hands, swiftly
jerked it up, over her head, and cast it onto a chair in one
corner. Then, still pinning her against the dressing table, he
pulled a length of soft nylon rope out of his pocket and quickly
tied her wrists together in front of her.
"Don't struggle, or the rope will chafe you," he warned her.
He could feel her pulse pounding rapidly, and her breaths came
short and shallow.
"Why are you doing this? Leave me alone!" she said in a
half-sob. But he just ignored her, brought out a small strip of
cloth, and tied it snugly on her as a blindfold. Then he turned
on the light, grabbed her shoulders again, turned her around, and
left her standing for a moment as she heard him doing something
up above her head. She felt dazed and delirious; still nervous
and a little bit afraid, but undeniably aroused. She felt
ashamed of the deep, rising pleasure that was slowly taking hold
inside her; but she realized that she was as helpless against it
as she was against her captor. She slid her thighs against each
other slightly, acutely conscious of the spreading wetness in her
crotch; and when she shrugged her shoulders forward a bit, her
breasts shifted in her brassiere, one of the nipples popping out
above the low fringe. *Oh, damn*, she thought; if he noticed
that, it would only encourage him.
Jack didn't seem to need any further encouragement. He
quickly pulled her wrists up, over her head, and attached the
rope binding them to some kind of hook, which she now realized he
must have hung from one of the water pipes that ran through the
room near the ceiling. She felt utterly helpless; and strangely,
this feeling caused her to relax. She had no choice now, she
told herself; she could only submit. He was so strong that even
if she could somehow get loose, she knew that struggling against
him would be futile.
Diana heard her captor pulling off his shirt and shoes,
unzipping his pants, and tossing his discarded clothing onto the
chair with her dress. *Oh God*, she thought silently; *He really
means to go through with this.* She felt light-headed,
desperately horny, and could not quite stifle a low groan that
rose in her throat as his powerful arms circled her waist and his
tongue flicked wetly at her earlobe. She suddenly realized that
he must have stripped off his underwear, too, because now his
penis was pressing directly against her lower back. It felt hot
and huge! She had never allowed herself to think consciously
about what Jack's organ might be like; but of course he was a big
man, and she felt a flush of secret pleasure at the forbidden
thought of how it might feel inside her. But surely he would not
try to do *that* to her, would he? It felt so big, it might
really hurt. Surely he was just teasing her, just playing
around, she tried to reassure herself.
Now Jack squatted down and began fondling her feet and
ankles. He had told her early on that he thought her legs were
one of the most beautiful things about her--the first thing he
had noticed, in fact, when he had begun watching her at
rehearsals.
"Love your legs, baby," he said in a low, strange-sounding
voice as he caressed them. "You get me so worked up when you
dance, I want to have you right then and there. I had to wait,
but now I've got you right where I want you." His hands slid up
the back of her legs, along the silky seam of the stockings,
pausing the squeeze and massage the perfect curves of her firm,
muscular calves, which quivered slightly, still perched atop her
spike-heels.
"Only a dancer could have a body like yours, baby," he said.
Suddenly, she felt his hands leave her legs, and she heard the
unmistakable >click< of a switchblade knife.
"No! Please don't!" she gasped in alarm, feeling him tug
roughly at her panties. But before she could even think about
it, he had cut them loose on both sides, pulled them through her
crotch from behind, and tossed them and the knife aside. She
felt so humiliated, with her wet, swollen sex fully exposed; yet
somehow the thought only increased her arousal.
Now he was on his knees behind her, kneading, licking, and
gently nibbling at the soft globes of her ass while his cock
brushed stiffly against her calves and ankles. Slipping his
hands around her waist and hips, he felt her frilly garter-belt,
and then ran his palms down the front of her thighs, firmly
massaging her strong muscles. It occurred to him that if she
really wanted to resist, she could deliver a damned powerful kick
with those legs; but he knew she wasn't going to do that. She
wanted this as much as he did; she just couldn't admit it. He
continued stroking up and down the length of her legs, enjoying
the smooth feel of her stockings. Nudging her feet together, he
began thrusting his quivering penis firmly between her calves
just below the knees.
Now jack reached both hands around her waist again, between
her legs, and began stroking her bare crotch, which had only a
small tuft of soft fur at the front. Her lips were moist and
swollen, and as he fingered them, he felt her clitoris jutting
stiffly against his thumb. He brought his other hand around from
behind and pushed the middle finger gently but insistently up,
into her tight vagina, causing her to groan deeply. Then he
began to stroke it slowly in and out, and Diana gasped every time
the knuckles slid past her sensitive opening. She sagged heavily
on the ropes binding her wrists as her knees went slack, and she
felt almost as though she might faint. Sensing this, Jack
quickly reached up and unhooked her arms from the pipe overhead.
Then he pulled out the chair from the dressing table, pushed her
against it, and forced her to bend over the back of it,
supporting herself on her still-bound hands at the front.
"Don't move," he told her; but she immediately tried to
stand upright again. He swiftly gave her three short, sharp
spanks on the ass to emphasize his command; and this time she
obeyed, bending back over the chair with a pathetic whimper.
Squatting down behind her, he pulled out two more pieces of nylon
rope and quickly, surely bound her ankles to the legs of the
chair. She now felt more helpless than ever.
As he rose to a half-crouch behind her, Diana felt his
swollen penis slip between her thighs. With her legs bound to
the chair, she could not even clench them together; and he placed
his hands on her shoulders, insuring that she could not struggle
upright, denying her any leverage to resist. He did not try to
push inside her yet, however, and his member merely slid along
the furrow of her lips, spreading his oozing pre-cum with her own
wetness until the insides of her thighs were completely slick.
His manhood was so long that the back of the head nestled in her
soft fur at the front whenever he pushed all the way forward.
Slipping his hands to the middle of her back, Jack quickly
unhooked the clasp of her bra and pushed the straps off her
shoulders and down her arms, where the frilly little garment
dangled uselessly from her bound wrists. She felt his hands
leave her back, and she tried to draw her arms up to cover her
breasts, struggling to preserve some shred of modesty against his
insistent touching.
"None of that," he said sharply, delivering another sharp
smack on her fanny--which both underlined his complete control of
her, and further stoked the fires of her arousal, sending a
shiver of pre-orgasmic tension through her straining body.
Reluctantly, she rested her hands back on the front edge of the
chair, realizing that she simply had no room to maneuver.
His hands again grasped her breasts, which now hung down
freely, accentuating their firm weight and fullness. Her nipples
poked stiffly against his palms as he caressed her, leaning
forward over her back, probing her ear with his tongue and gently
biting at the side of her neck. She whimpered softly, driven all
but out of her mind by the combination of his touches all over
her body. He continued fondling her taut breasts, and she began
to feel a warm, delicious tightness growing deep in her belly.
Suddenly she felt him grab her hair with one hand and tug her
head back sharply, and she groaned yet again as his teeth clamped
down firmly on her neck. His other hand never stopped tugging
and twisting her desperately hard nipples between his thumb and
forefinger.
"Uuuunnnh," she moaned. "Ugh!" The head of his penis slid
back and began to nudge insistently at her opening, slipping
repeatedly against her madly-aroused clitoris. How long would,
or could he keep this up? Diana felt she couldn't stand much
more, or she would simply go insane!
"Aaaannnh!" she cried, unable to contain herself. At that,
Jack again slapped his hand firmly on the side of her ass, which
was now glistening with perspiration.
"Quiet," he told her sharply. "If you keep moaning like
that, somebody might start to think you were actually enjoying
this." Diana strained against the ropes binding her legs to the
chair, but the knots were too tight. There was nowhere to run,
nowhere to hide, and she could only endure his ceaseless assault.
Squeezing her ass-cheeks firmly, Jack slid both hands upward
again, over her smooth, muscular hips, across her firm, flat
tummy, and up under her heaving breasts, now covered with a sheen
of sweat as she gasped for breath. His penis probed ever deeper
between her pussy lips with each stroke, and she began panting
for breath, unable to contain a series of small, helpless cries
that matched the rhythm of his strokes between her legs.
"Ah. Ah. Ah. Uh. Unh! Ungh!"
Jack realized that he could not last much longer before he
would lose control over his own body; it was almost time. He
knew that Diana was on the pill, and he was as certain as could
be that neither of them had any diseases; so he gave no further
thought to any protective measures. Bending his knees slightly,
he brought the tip of his long, twitching member down to her
entrance, and then pushed gently but firmly against her. Once
the head nestled into the opening, the rest of the long shaft
slid in easily; but her muscles gripped firmly, yielding only
grudgingly as the flared rim of the head popped past the tightest
part.
"Ooooooh, GOD!" Diana cried out. "AH! Uh-uh-AH!" The
first waves of her orgasm swept over her with sudden force,
making her head spin with shameless, indescribable ecstasy. Her
entire body quivered as she rose up on her tip-toes, impaled on
his massive staff; time seemed to stop, and for a moment she
could not seem to breathe. Jack paused as soon as he had thrust
himself fully inside her, and the rippling of the muscles deep in
her belly seemed to tug him even deeper, sucking at his throbbing
piston like some kind of pump. At last, however, her tremors
seemed to subside, and she drew a deep, ragged breath.
But Jack was by no means finished with her yet, having
fought off the moment of his own release. As Diana's breathing
began to slow slightly, he began sliding outward, until the
flared edge of the head tugged against the narrow rim of her
opening. Pushing inward again, he savored the exquisite feeling
of his blunt, super-sensitive organ nudging up, into her deepest
recesses, straining with ever-mounting urgency. He felt as
though his teeth were floating in his own juices, so full was he
with the feeling of imminent eruption. He slowed until he was
barely moving, trying to gain a final few seconds before it
happened, and she truly became his.
Diana meanwhile found herself suddenly, helplessly driven to
the brink of another orgasm of her own. Tears streamed down her
cheeks, and his hands never stopped tugging at her breasts,
twiddling her long, rigid nipples like radio knobs until they
almost ached! She felt so full, as though his penis were
reaching all the way up into her chest--as though he were wearing
her, wrapped around his pulsing tool like some kind of condom.
Then she began to cum again, giving a long, moaning wail as her
pussy squeezed spasmodically around him.
Jack could bear no more. After one final thrust, an
involuntary croaking sound rose in his throat, and his penis
swelled even further, loosing a fierce jet of spunk deep inside
her hot, tortured loins. Racked by her own orgasm, Diana's hips
churned against him, and she bared her teeth in an animal-like
grimace of sheer abandon.
At last, the fierce throbbing of his cock subsided into
gentle twitches, and as it began to shrivel he slowly withdrew
from her. As he did so, he gently stroked her shoulders, sides,
back, hips, and thighs, gradually calming them both down and
bringing them back to their normal senses. Presently Jack turned
off the light, untied her wrists and ankles, removed her blind-
fold, and kissed her softly on the cheek.
"It wasn't my fault," Diana sighed weakly. "You made me do
it."
"That's right," he agreed, drawing her to him and pressing
her head to his shoulder. "You couldn't help it." Her breasts,
still taut and aroused, pressed against his hard-muscled chest as
his powerful arms curled around her slim shoulders and narrow
waist. Neither of them had ever experienced anything so intense
in their lives, and now they both had the same, silent thought:
this would be only the first time of many. And somehow they both
knew it was going to get even better.
THE END ... ?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
To find out more about the anon service, send mail to [email protected].
Due to the double-blind, any mail replies to this message will be anonymized,
and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned.
Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to [email protected].
|
|
