Chapter One

Jenna: A Vignette

 

Jenna's voice has a snarl of demand in it, one I know well - and crave and dread even more.

"Okay bitch, you know what I want. Roll your ass over and give it up to me."

"Do you have to use that one?" I wheedle, hating the babyish whine in my voice but unable to suppress it. In the midnight dimness I eye that monstrous cock with cringing timidity.

"I'm going to use whichever I choose. And I want hear you sobbing and squealing as you take it, rather than gasping and moaning like you love it. That's what really turns me on. And being forced to submit to whatever I want is what really turns you on. We both know that. So shut up and roll over. I'm not going to say it again. Or do you want to spend the rest of the night afterwards cock-gagged, electro-plug-stuffed and hanging by your hogtying in the shower? I can leave the bare lights shining right in your eyes and the water dripping on your forehead again..."

Burning with humiliation, unable as ever to defy her (I'm almost certain to suffer exactly as described for questioning her anyway), I slide a pillow down the bed and roll over straddling it. My cock is throbbing with agony in the chastity device Jenna makes me wear; it began its helpless swelling the second I woke up to see her looming over me in the darkness.

Hulking and muscular, short butch hair and strong-jawed face, she's six years older and much stronger and more forward than I am. In any case, seeing her strapped on turns my bowels to water, my personality into that of a cowed child and my penis into a trapped monster raging in its cage. Squirming to the pit of my conflicted soul, I bite my lip and feel hot tears start trickling even as I cock my unconscionably greedy ass up. Jenna breathes satisfied accusation at me as she moves between my spreading legs.

"There you go faggot! You love it even when it hurts you!"

"I'm not a faggot!" I whine. "You know men repel me. It's you I'm hopelessly attracted to. And I can't help it if I like in the ass from a dominant woman once in a while."

"You love it in the ass from a dominant woman!" Jenna snarls. Her powerful hands spread eager cheeks still deep purple from their latest paddling. "You'd take it around the clock if you could get it. So take it now, bitch!"

Blunt and slick and big as a forearm and fist, Jenna's erection forces its agonizing way into me. I cry out in distress and lift my hips higher, spreading my legs wider, trying uselessly to accommodate her. She lays hold of my thighs where they join my body, pulls back and thrusts forward, all powerful arms, rock-hard buttocks, indomitable strength and unrefusable lust.

Gasping with supreme satisfaction she drives unstoppably into me, stretching and stuffing me excruciatingly. Just as she's insisted upon I sob and squeal and grit my teeth, making fists in the sheets and arching my back, toes curled up tight and my cock pulsing hotly on.

How long has it been since she's let me come? It was Christmas wasn't it, when I jerked off while she whipped me with the new single-tail she insisted I give her? Her soiled panties were so pungent covering my face, her nectar salty on my lips and sloshing noxiously in my belly...

Now its mid-September, and my pressure-cooker balls seem to boil with un-spill-able sperm. With no choice in the matter anyway, I give myself over to the only source of fulfillment of which I'm currently worthy. As Jenna bullies all the way in, pulls back and starts pounding away, I weep in bitter resignation, humiliated willingness, and oh-so addictive arousal at the sickly exhilarating subjugation beginning its endless escalation yet again.

 

Chapter Two

The Cuddle Monster

 

Hot and thirsty and trailing a dust plume behind her dented SUV, Kelly Jensen, 25, trundled down the rough rural road toward her home at the very end. Though it was largely un-stocked and had stood unoccupied for months while she was off finishing her current tour of duty, the big Marine corporal couldn't wait to get there. Oh, her feet hurt!

Though she'd doffed her uniform blouse and unbearably constrictive bra for the skimpiest possible halter top at the first opportunity, Kelly still wore regulation khaki shorts, socks and combat boots. Now the spaghetti straps and scant white fabric flattered her big breasts and buffed arms and shoulders while leaving her wonderfully free up top and at least mostly open to the air.

In contrast her sweaty crotch itched even in a g-string and her feet could use the mother of all massages. Thoughts of the few amenities that did lie ahead beckoned: air-conditioning, ice in the freezer for the scotch she'd picked up and most of all 'the cloud', a huge sectional sofa that had dominated the living room since it was her mother's parents' place back in the seventies.

By now it was distinctly shabby. But that didn't matter. It was still amazingly comfortable to sprawl out over and filled with pleasant associations. Kelly couldn't wait to mix a drink, kick off her boots and socks, collapse back into it and let the whole sultry day slip away. This last tour had been particularly hairy. Some kind of cleansing and recuperative was sorely in order.

Reaching the cul-de-sac at last, Kelly's heart leaped to see her diminutive neighbor sitting on the steps of his own porch across from hers.

Next to the people she lived and died with in combat, Kelly was closer to Corey than anyone else in the world - this despite them being such opposites. Where she was tall, built and bulky he was a classic shrimp. Where she reveled in both innate and earned self-assurance he was a timid retiring mouse. Roughly eighty percent lesbian with butch-short black hair, Kelly pitied Corey's untested heterosexuality. While unmistakably aroused by her and other girls, Corey's slightly effeminate air (enhanced by the surprisingly thick blonde locks Kelly had always encouraged him to nurture) doomed him to undesirability for almost all women.

She loved him dearly of course. But they went way back. Pulling up to Corey's porch rather than her own despite her earlier urgency, Kelly cut off her exuberant greeting just in time. Corey was sitting there crying, sigh. What a surprise.

He'd been susceptible to this since she first met him. As he'd had good reason for this weakness, she'd always been compassionate. But now he was an adult. An exasperated part of her wanted to put him over her knee just like in the old days.

Corey had moved to this dead-end street when he was seven. His parents, a pair of despicable meth-heads, had been sent to death row for murdering the wrong set of grandparents. It was some tweaked-out inheritance-fraud scheme. He'd been sent to live with his remaining kin right here across from where Kelly was growing up with her own harried single mom.

Though already edging into infirmity, these last living relatives through perhaps obsessively frugal prudence had actually amassed considerable wealth despite remaining in such a relatively impoverished backwater. Rather than condemn the unlucky boy to foster care, these rich-but-stingy grandparents knuckled to pressure from the court and reluctantly took him in.

Still it was clear they were both unenthusiastic and inadequate to the task at hand. With fourteen year-old tomboy Kelly running wild alone across the road while her mother worked seventy-hour weeks struggling to make ends meet, a seemingly inevitable deal was soon struck.

For a pittance her family couldn't refuse, Kelly was pressed into service as a kind of babysitter-slash-teenage nanny. First across the street under the gradually ailing grandparents' disinterested supervision but then mostly at her own otherwise empty home, she quickly became the dominant presence in the otherwise isolated life of the abandoned little orphan.

Tomboy Kelly settled down and thrived on the responsibility.

She kept Corey eating and reasonably clean. She did her best to keep him out of trouble and spanked his bottom when she failed, just as her mother still did to her. She doctored his scrapes and went out of her way to comfort his loneliness and more enduring woes. And still being mostly a kid herself she played with him daily: hide-and-seek, tag, other chasing and tackling and even tickling games - anything to keep him cheerfully engaged. Then there were all those hours on the cloud watching movies and TV together...

Kelly flushed suddenly.

In retrospect, a lot of their interactions seemed heavily pre-erotic. With neither of them realizing it, their horseplay and comforting and endless spells snuggled up close had grown powerfully charged. In those penniless days without air-conditioning they'd practically lived in swimsuits, her own threadbare bikinis perpetually outgrown. Kelly remembered lying about in a kind of heat-struck stupor with her little 'cuddle monster' molded up against her. His small hands were running slowly, wonderingly all over her. She was letting him do this because she was doing the same, both of them breathing deeply of the potent musk pouring from their pores. Parts of each were jutting out their suits, inviting investigation in their fraught yet listless languor...

Pre-erotic, hell: Kelly shook herself.

They'd just been curious kids doing what came naturally. No harm had been done. Still even as an adult with several rewarding gay relationships behind her, a nostalgic frisson from those early experiences remained. Kelly often dreamed and even occasionally daydreamed of those days and was always stirred by this. She would forever have a tender spot in her for her little cuddle monster, and always recall the pride, fun, fulfillment and even more unsettling excitement she always got from basically raising and semi-intentionally dominating him all those years.

Jesus, how long had that gone on, the better part of a decade? Despite her wry sigh of impatience, Kelly still found her former charge's vulnerability more than just endearing. It made him sneakily attractive. Jumping from the truck, her concern was genuine as she hurried over.

"What's wrong, Corey? Are you okay?"

"Welcome back, Kel. It's always so wonderful to see you alive and well."

"How are you?"

Corey gave a shaky laugh, pulling up his too-loose t-shirt to wipe his eyes.

"Actually, I'm fabulous. That's what's so upsetting.

"Here I am, I just graduated from high school a month ago with no real clue what to do. Then suddenly my grandparents die within eight days of each other. Three days after that, I find out they've left me the house free and clear plus over three million dollars' worth of reliably profitable investments! We've just been living on the interest all these years. It's all happened so fast I can't sort my stupid head out.

"Screw having to get a job, right? I'm suddenly solvent. Hell, I'm rich. And all it cost me was the grandparents who never loved or wanted me."

Corey dissolved into weeping again.

As she had on hundreds of occasions, Kelly sat down and took him in her arms. As always he went eagerly into her envelopment. Clutching her big body hungrily in return, he wept on as she crooned and stroked and comforted him. This too she'd done a hundred times, and even a decade later all those potent old associations welled up immediately. Kelly welcomed them.

Oh, it felt so good!

How often had such comforting led to yet more prolonged snuggling, even peacefully napping together for entire afternoons molded up close? After endless complicated tensions with lovers, bosses and colleagues (not to mention the harrowing horrors of war) Kelly acutely longed for that simple old unquestioning warmth and acceptance - and that strangely compelling if formerly unsuspected erotic connection. More, she missed that prideful coddling and rightful dominating of his adoring and adorable vulnerability. Kelly knew what she truly wanted (if not where it finally might lead) when she issued her invitation.

"Come on, Corey. I was just going to make myself a drink and collapse on the cloud. You look like you could use one too. Join me, for the sake of old times and new. I meant more to you than your whole asshole family. And with them in the past at last, I'm still here for you. I always will be, my honorary little brother."

This brought a tightening of Corey's clutch and another spate of sobs. But this was the last one, and brief.

After a moment he stopped wetting the bare slopes of her left breast and reluctantly released her. This time he pulled the t-shirt right off, leaving his small and slight, underdeveloped and still a bit ungainly teenage body clad only in thin gym shorts and sandals. Wiping his face and even blowing his nose on the shirt, he hitched a last quavering sigh as he dropped it beside him.

"I'd love to come over, Kel. I'm going nuts all alone. And I've missed you beyond words here these last few years. Not only do I have no other family or friends, but I'm always so worried about you. You have such a dangerous life. Though of course, I still jerk off every day thinking about you swashbuckling your way around the Middle East with a machine gun."

Corey gave a jagged laugh while Kelly let this pass. She drew him to his feet by the hand.

"Come on little guy. Let's go get that drink."

Linking their fingers together (as she'd also so often done) Kelly pulled him over hand-in-companionable-hand to her door, only stopping by the truck for the bottle. As if still concerned about his safety in the perpetually deserted street she didn't release him until she had to dig out her key. Then she ushered Corey into the dim, warm and stuffy old house in which they'd spent their pubescence together. Again his voice quavered to a treble as she shut the door behind them.

"I need to pee."

"We both need to get comfortable." Kelly already had her boots off and was working on the socks. "I need to get the AC going." She dropped her shorts next, nonchalant though she was warmly aware of Corey taking in the sight of her in just her halter and that camo-patterned g-string. Of course they'd lived in those swimsuits once but bodies and perceptions had changed. They hadn't been so intimate since Kelly hit full adulthood.

"Go ahead and freshen up. I'll make some drinks and meet you in the living room."

Though his gaze lingered, Corey didn't. To this day he always did just what she told him. Kelly herself hurried to start the AC, though she left the blinds closed and the lights off. Blowing the dust off glasses and dumping ice in a bucket, she slipped quickly into her bedroom for secrets one and two. Carrying everything to the living room, she secreted those secrets in a crevice of the cloud. Then picking up the remote she put some mellow piano concertos on the stereo and an underwater landscape DVD featuring coral reefs on the big TV.

With only that rich blue aqua-video ameliorating the indoor afternoon dimness Kelly poured a pair of stiff double-scotches on the rocks. His face washed, hair brushed and ponytail fixed up nice, barefoot now, Corey joined her a bit hesitantly as she set down the bottle.

"I've never had whiskey, or really drunk much of anything."

"I bet there's lots you haven't done. If you start trying some of them, it might lead to all kinds of wonderful new experiences. Here's to them." Kelly handed him the drink, clinked rims and sipped her own. She slipped her fingers back into his and tugged him toward the cloud.

"How many hours did we spend entwined on this thing?"

Corey coughed, his eyes leaking again at his first swallow of liquor.

"Too many to number and not nearly enough."

"I was thinking the same thing."

She pulled him down to sit on the edge. They sipped and let the piano have its say for a while. Huge shoals of brilliantly colored fish swan across the wall, scattered from a shark and re-schooled with eerie ease. Kelly sensed Corey's uncertain suspense after all this time apart and savored it while she got the top-shelf scotch into him. Then she continued her thought.

"All those rainy or lazy TV days aside, you always needed comforting over something."

"I could use some now."

"Me too, my friend. I've missed my little 'cuddle monster'."

"Remember how I used to bury my face in you and growl when you called me that?"

"I'm the one who feels like burying something and growling now."

"Really?"

"Really. I don't want to talk about the war, or about how you should be out celebrating your good fortune instead of sobbing on your doorstep. I just want to snuggle like we used to do. It was always so wonderful then and I'm old enough to properly appreciate it now. Finish your drink, darling child."

Again, Corey always did what she told him to. He'd learned obedience to her young and well and knew better than to ever rebel. By the time Kelly swallowed the last of her scotch he'd done the same, though his eyes ran red again and he swiped at them as she took the glass back.

"Whoa - suddenly I'm a bit dizzy."

"How awfully worrisome. Maybe you should lie down."

Kelly set their glasses on the floor and scooted backward. Up onto that hippie 'cloud' she squirmed until her head and shoulders rested on the low perimeter cushion and her sizable near-nudity was reclined in full comfort. Even at six-three her feet just reached her previous seat. Though there was room still on that sofa for another half-dozen guests (or even a full-blown orgy) the two of them had rarely wasted space. Obedient Corey eagerly scrambled up and melded his still considerably smaller form tightly into hers. Though her halter had ridden up her back and the string slipped off her shoulder to leave part of one nipple (and much more) uncovered, Kelly pulled him into her embrace and rested his head in the hollow of her muscular shoulder. One slender arm slipped under hers and the other circled her girth. A downy leg came across to slip in amidst her own. Through the thin shorts, Kelly felt the press of a small aroused bulge on her upper thigh. She and Corey sighed in simultaneous sweet bliss.

No one said anything. No one needed to.

Though Corey was already throbbing with hope, for Kelly the years just melted away. So much warm, skin-on-skin contact, the encircling and mingling of limbs, the silent communion with only their pheromones exchanging messages (these at once arousing and reassuring): it was just as she'd remembered and hoped for.

Treasuring that quasi-erotic nostalgia while the alcohol was absorbed and went further to work, she felt more contented than in a decade. War? What war? Corey meanwhile lay docilely in her arms, well-schooled to let her make the first of any moves. When who knew how many minutes had passed and his heart at last slowed to match hers - and his importuning throbbing against her leg began to lessen - she finally did.

Her free hand came up and pulled loose the ponytail. Kelly stroked him then, combing her fingers rhythmically through all that thick silky hair. Occasionally she cupped and cradled a cranium still almost small enough for her weapons-calloused hand to palm. Cosseting as a she-bear grooming her cub, she felt him pressing and pulsing again. Yet Corey refused to move even minutely, when any other guy would be humping her leg like a mongrel dog. Breasts swelling with affection she petted him on, until he finally faultlessly intuited her permission to respond. Then his own free hand began making soothing-exciting circles on her stomach.

Together they stroked each other at the most sedately restrained pace. Wordless murmurs of pleasure joined all the deep sighs and heavy respiration. Kelly felt the liquor hitting her and knew her little initiate must be getting more receptive by the minute. Still she drew out the pleasure, only very gradually beginning to squeeze him tighter and rub his back with her hugging arm as well. After an appropriate interval, the circles being described on her trim abs widened.

Still youthfully smooth where she was calloused, that economical palm treasured her flesh. Spread fingers slipped as far down as her g-string and up under her displaced halter to brush the crevice under her breast. Feeling the still tender groove where her bra had been cutting in all day, hearing her slight moan of request, Corey gently caressed the soreness away all along those deep creases. In return for such service Kelly at last used the excuse of squirming with contentment to give his now fiercely jutting bulge the slightest nudge of returning pressure.

No longer innocently young and curious, lesbian Kelly hadn't much interest in that admittedly pitiful equipment. Its urgency flattered her, and any erogenous flesh was fun to play with. But she had far more natural and rewarding (at least for her) urges to indulge. Still her little cuddle monster required some serious seduction. She was more than happy to indulge him first.

Let the virgin have his squirt. Aftermath and alcohol will have lowered his inhibitions then, enough for him to accept what she intended. She couldn't bear to traumatize him. By slow increments and tiny signals familiar to both, their hands gradually roamed ever further, and their positions subtly shifted until her halter was pushed up past both exposed nipples and Corey's almost comically bobbing little knob had popped free of a displaced waistband.

Nevertheless they just caressed and cuddled on. Corey finally dared explore and rub her generous swells and erect nubs; Kelly rubbed back with her naked thigh, pushing that waistband further down, pressing and even bending him all around until he was gasping. At last all pretence of comforting or friendly cuddling denatured away. Kelly took that poor importunate penis in hand. Her pinkie was about as big. As Corey made a tiny squeak of amazed blessedness she used the shoulder clutching him to subtly nudge his resting head toward her breast.

"What is it that you do while thinking of me every day?" she murmured. Though his face flushed red, Corey met her eyes abashed as she expertly fondled that stiff little finger of flesh. He might have been ten again and caught doing something naughty. "I may be mostly gay Corey but I can still do this for you. Will you do something for me afterwards?"

"A-anything!"

His voice caught so adorably! Kelly purred approval and stroked him, squeezed and pumped him with exquisite slowness. Again she nudged him. Oblivious to anything but the obviously unprecedented pleasure in his prick, he finally needed a whisper.

"Take my nipple, baby. It's okay. You can suckle me now."