From Jeannie to Vanessa Ch. 03

Anal

Author’s note. These are not stand alone stories. If you haven’t read chapters 1 and 2, please go back and read them first, or this chapter will make no sense.

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Chapter 3: New players, new game

The time apart seemed like it moved like a turtle in peanut butter. Finally, however, another glorious weekend dawned where we could be together. This time, I was staying with Jack at his school. Now, a lot of schools were beginning to experiment with coed dorms. Not MY school, and not Jack’s either. But, the recognition that college-age boys and girls would be, well, you know, boys and girls, was certainly taking hold, and so dormitory authorities were often “looking the other way” if you didn’t do something terribly outrageous.

Jack lived in what was called a “suite.” Each suite consisted of five rooms, each room with two guys. There was a shared bathroom at one end of a short hallway, and the other end of the hallway opened on a deck that overlooked a central yard. One of the rooms in Jack’s suite was occupied by the “floor dick,” AKA residence counselor, who was an upper classman recruited to temper the enthusiasm of the younger students.

Andy, the floor dick, who I had met previously, had no problem with me staying in the suite (and, I think, he enjoyed the flash of leg or thigh when I was headed to the bathroom in one of Jack’s T-shirts). Jack’s roommate, Sylvester, who went by the nickname of Siller, (rhymes with killer, he would always say), was a black guy from New York who was also really sweet. Even better (under the circumstances) he had a girlfriend who lived out in town and he rarely spent a weekend night in the suite. Like Siller, a lot of the other suitemates were away on weekends, and this one was no different.

I drove my little Chevy up to the parking lot at Jack’s dorm and Jack, unsurprisingly, was sitting on the bench outside reading. He unfolded his lanky six-foot frame from the bench and stood up, smiling broadly, when he saw me. He gave me a long, lingering kiss. Curious about his (seemingly) boundless knowledge of heretofore untouched subjects, I asked him what he was reading.

He showed me the cover – Nine and a Half Weeks, The Memoir of a Love Affair by an author I hadn’t heard of before.

“What’s that about?” I asked. I didn’t think romances were quite Jack’s thing.

“It’s a memoir of a true dominant-submissive relationship. It’s also a warning of what not to do.”

“Wow,” I responded, not sure of how to react, “are we headed that way?”

“Definitely not.” he replied. “But I thought it useful to be familiar with the pitfalls. I definitely want our relationship to last longer than 9 ½ weeks. A lot longer.”

He then smiled at me again. “It’s so wonderful to see you! That’s a dark story, so I’m happy to put it down. Let’s get your things!”

We grabbed my suitcase and makeup bag and headed into the dorm. I, of course, was wearing a nice blouse, pencil skirt and high heels and therefore felt myself somewhat overdressed. Underneath the skirt, of course, I was decidedly underdressed, wearing a garter belt and stockings (and no panties) and shaved to boot, in accordance with the new rules of our relationship.

Admittedly, a girl in heels and skirt on a mostly-male college campus gets lots of positive feedback. Jack was in jeans, sneakers and T-shirt.

We got into his room, after a quick greeting to Andy and one of his other suitemates, and plopped my bags on Siller’s bed and sat on the other. It didn’t take long for us to get horizontal (it had been over two weeks!) and one of the first things that happened was Jack slipped his hand up my skirt. He found me bare/bare of course and he grinned.

He quickly moved his face down between my legs and began to kiss and lick that bare pussy. Oh my God my head went back into the pillow and I was just eating it up! (Well he was, technically, but you know what I mean). He went at it slowly, first licking all the way around my outer labia, reveling in the feel of the baby-smooth skin and sucking and nibbling on those outer lips. Then he began to work his way deeper, flicking my clit with his tongue and pulling it into his mouth. otele gelen escort

This was actually the first time he had gone down on me since before the “kidnapping/rape scene,” and it was glorious. It didn’t take very long to get my motor running – I had been fantasizing about him all the way up the road.

Pretty soon, the need inside me became overpowering. “Fuck me Jack, please?”

He rose up out of my pussy like…well, I don’t know, like a Phoenix from the flame? Venus from the seashell? Words fail me. He stripped off his shoes, socks, pants and underwear, pulled off his T-shirt, and prepared to get down to brass tacks.

I suddenly had a thought and said quietly, “Jack, please fuck my ass.”

He cocked his head for a moment, like he wasn’t sure if he had heard me right, and I said a little louder, “Your slut wants you to fuck her ass! Fuck my ass! Please!” I got slightly louder with each phrase.

Without saying a word, he went to his closet and pulled out a tube that I supposed was like the lube he had used on me during the “scene.” He quickly lubed up my (still) tight little rosebud and tested it with two fingers, much like the first time. His cock was stiff as a steel rod (but much more pleasant) when he poked my little bum, and he slowly worked his way inside.

He reached up and unbuttoned my blouse and found I had worn the cupless bra and immediately began squeezing my breasts and gently pinching and rolling the nipples. I had come dressed for sex and that’s exactly what I was getting.

I wasn’t bound and gagged like I had been the first time, and it was quickly obvious. I was thrashing about on the bed, trying to remember to relax, and my screams got louder by the minute.

His cock went all the way in and he lay down on top of me for a moment, whispering in my ear, “Vanessa, baby, you’re going to make everyone think I’m killing you.”

The sound of the “V” name got through to me for a moment, and I was able to mute the volume a little. “Gag me,” I gasped, “GAG ME!”

Jack fumbled around on the nearby student desk and came up with one of those squeezable balls guys use for strengthening their hands. He pushed it into my mouth, which I had opened as wide as I could to accept it.

With the gag-ball in (I guess it was technically a ball-gag, but I had higher standards for those now) I quieted down significantly. The rest, as they say, was like (recent) history. Jack began to thrust ever harder into my tight little ass and once again I felt the delicious feeling of his balls slapping against my bare pussy lips. When he unloaded into me (I still didn’t know what the cum was hitting inside, I had forgotten to look that up, but ohhhhh, whatever it was it felt glorious), I went berserk. Even the gag-ball was just barely enough. Annnnd then I passed out.

I came to in the usual (pleasant) fashion, with Jack holding me and kissing me deeply (ahem, blowing air into my lungs).

“Wow,” he said when my eyes popped open, “I think you dig doing the chocolate highway.”

“The what??” I asked.

“Anal sex baby, you dig it.”

“Please don’t ever call it the chocolate highway again,” I responded, “that’s just gross.

“But yes, I do dig it. I think I feel about as submissive giving my ass to you as anything we have done together. But I think in the future, if we are doing that within screaming distance of other humans, you need to gag me and tie me up.”

“You’re so right. I think the gagging is a really good idea. I’m not sure you have to be tied up, though.” he replied.

I looked at him shyly and added, “But I liked it when you tied me up…or chained me. I felt so submissive and helpless. I want you to do it again. I want you to gag me, and blindfold me, and tie me, and then fuck me. Fuck my mouth, fuck my pussy, fuck my ass. Whatever you want. I am your slut.”

He sat there in silence for a moment, maybe struck dumb, I didn’t know. Then with a big grin on his face, he replied “You got it babe!”

A few minutes after that, we were dressed again (and my makeup was fixed again) and headed out for dinner. We had türkmen escort to walk across campus (natch) to check Jack’s mail at the Student Union and I got a few good-natured wolf-whistles at my legs and heels.

Just after we hit the mail drop, a voice boomed out, “Hey Jack!” The speaker was a husky 6’2″ 200-something-pounder with red hair and a bushy beard, wearing (I swear to God) farmer’s overalls, a T-shirt, and hiking boots. Walking with him was a very pretty delicate-featured brown-haired girl, probably 5′ tall, if that, and slender enough to disappear behind a tree. She was wearing a brightly-patterned sundress and short boots. Talk about Mutt ‘n’ Jeff!

It was odd…the speaker was obviously pleased to see Jack but Jack seemed less than thrilled to see him. Trapped, he finally turned and said, “Jeannie, I’d like you to meet DeeDee and her boyfriend Rick.”

He didn’t further introduce me (he had said my name of course, but custom generally requires…) but there seemed to be no reason not to be polite. I shook DeeDee’s tiny hand and then my hand was engulfed in Rick’s huge paw.

He was one of those guys that liked to show how tough they were by squeezing your knuckles tightly. I didn’t care for the type.

Then he said something that rocked my world. “So nice to see you again.”

But it wasn’t what he said, exactly, although the emphasis on the “again” was a clue. It was the way he said it, and the way he looked at me when he said it. He spoke in a low, guttural growl that was all too familiar, and he looked at me with a deliberate leer.

Immediately it all came together for me. The muscular grasp hurting my throat, the low growling voice, the violent oral assault, the fucking beard around the lips of the man sucking my nipples…it was like I had been slapped on the side of the head by a two-by-four.

I turned towards Jack, the tears already starting. My head must have looked like a battleship turret rotating with my eyes two big guns pointing directly at him.

“You bastard!” I spit out, “You fucking lied to me. You were my first! My only! You betrayed me! You…you…” I sputtered into silence and stomped away, my right hand already beginning to twist the engagement ring from my left.

I heard Jack saying to Rick, “You stupid son-of-a-bitch, I hadn’t told her yet!”

The angry words had drawn some attention, and there were several people staring by this time.

I heard footsteps behind me, and felt a hand on my arm. “Don’t touch me! Don’t ever touch me again!” I snarled, but it wasn’t Jack, it was DeeDee. I tried to pull away, but the delicate hands were surprisingly strong.

“Stop for a moment, and just listen. He had to push you, it was time, but he couldn’t hurt you himself.” She spoke urgently, as if she knew she had only moments to get through to me.

“Just think…a man loves you so much, he knows what you need, but he couldn’t bring himself to mistreat you the way you needed. He had to break you, but he couldn’t hurt you himself. Rick is not as restrained that way, trust me. So Jack used Rick to do what had to be done, and then took over. Couldn’t you tell?”

“Of course I could fucking tell,” I bit out each word angrily, “but Jack told me it was only him, and I believed him! By the way,” another question bubbled up, “how do YOU know so much about it?”

“Who do you think shaved you?” she responded, “One of those clowns? You’d still be in intensive care.” Her response was so matter-of-fact and incongruous that I actually found myself laughing a little. Well, she WAS supposed to be a medical student. I was still furious, but her answer made some sense.

OK, reader, I know you must be like, “no fucking way, this is it, this is the end, NO relationship could recover from this.”

And I was angry, and felt betrayed, and felt like EVERYONE ELSE knew my business. I was tempted to pull up my skirt and just let EVERYONE ELSE see me, except I was afraid that EVERYONE ELSE already had and they would just laugh or, worse, be bored.

The engagement ring was actually off my finger and clutched in my right hand now. I was ready evi olan escort to fling it across the floor at Jack.

DeeDee was still standing there. “So has Jack fucked you?” I asked, as harshly as I could.

“No.” she responded evenly. “That may happen sometime, if Rick wants it, and if Jack agrees, but this whole episode was just to prepare you for the way ahead. To my knowledge, Jack has no particular interest in bedding me, or anyone else for that matter, except you, blondie. All he ever fucking talks about is you. It’s kind of irritating sometimes. Frankly, I don’t think you’re that great of a catch.”

I rounded on her, already as hot as a two-dollar pistol and looking for someplace to unload.

She was grinning at me. “A little anger transference psychology. Worked, didn’t it?” she chuckled, then turned serious again.

“Trust me, you will never, ever find anyone who adores you like he does. He may eventually learn to get tough with you, at least out of duty, but he will never enjoy it. Not like Rick.” She sounded wistful. She continued on, “He gave away his most precious possession, you, to make you see, to make you understand who and what you really are.”

“HIS possession?? What about MY body, MY mouth, MY pussy! What about MY rights?” I shot back.

DeeDee parried calmly, “So all those things you’ve said in the last couple of weeks, about how you would do anything for him, how he “just had to say the word,” calling him “Master,” those were all lies?”

“How did you…but that was after…” It suddenly dawned on me the logic loop I was caught in.

Jack had used Rick (and DeeDee) to push me over the edge into what he had intuited I really wanted and needed. But I wasn’t able to admit it to myself until I got pushed over the edge. If he HADN’T pushed me…nope, that way lay madness.

The ring still rested uneasily in my right hand. I turned and looked at Jack. He was sitting on a bench, his head hung low, near where Rick was still standing uncertainly.

Jack literally looked like a whipped puppy, like the light had completely gone out in his world. Rick, for his part, looked chastened. I think he realized he had stepped in the doo-doo with me AND Jack.

I turned and walked back over to where Jack was sitting and stood over him for a moment, indecisive. My mind went back not two weeks, but months. Jack had always treated me with the utmost kindness. He had always respected my thoughts and ideas, and had been my partner in some crazy schemes. He had always supported me. He clearly loved me. He loved me so much he was willing to give me up to prove a point.

And it had worked. This ASSHOLE and his crazy scheme had pushed me to where I now wanted to be. I couldn’t go back, and I didn’t want to go forward without this man-child who sat broken in front of me. He was the top, the dom, the Master, but there was no yin without a yang, no light without some darkness, no Master without a submissive. I had a key part to play in the story that was to come, and I suddenly decided I didn’t want to miss out.

I reached down and opened his right hand and put the ring in it. He stared at it wordlessly.

“Jack,” I said, “get down on one knee.”

“What?” he replied, as if he hadn’t understood me.

“I said get down on one knee. A gentleman doesn’t sit down to propose to a lady, for God’s sake, so get down on one fucking knee!”

He looked up through eyes bleary with tears, to see if I was mocking him. I wasn’t. I wiped my own tears away and smiled at him, holding out my left hand.

He slowly came off the bench and got down on one knee. He looked up at me, hope beginning to shine once more in those dreamy brown eyes that I knew – and loved – so well.

“Jeannie,” he began, “Will you marry me?”

“Not Jeannie.” I corrected. “Vanessa. And the answer is yes.” He slid the ring back onto my finger.

The people who had stopped and stared at the angry outburst now cheered. DeeDee came over and hugged me. Rick made as if he was going to also, but I looked daggers at him and he backed off. He contented himself with congratulating Jack.

I said to DeeDee off to the side, while that frenzy of male backslapping was going on, “Girl, you and I need to talk. I am way behind here and I need to catch up fast!”

She grinned and pressed a piece of paper into my hand. “I’ll talk to you anytime you want. But you’re catching on pretty well for a dumb blonde.”

-to be continued-

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