Alison Goes To London chapter 12 I Do Not Understand What I Do
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Lisa And Alison - Chapter 1 free porn video
Lisa and Alison - Chapter One
By AmyAmy. November 30th 2005.
This story is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters
portrayed here to real people living or deceased is entirely
coincidental. The author retains all rights to this work, except in
allowing that it may be archived and distributed for non-commercial
purposes, providing all text remains intact, including this notice.
This story deals with 'adult' themes of a highly sexual nature,
including 'fetishism', bondage, domination, non-consensual sex acts,
use of sex-toys, costumes and sexual transformation in an unrealistic
and fantastical manner. If you find such topics disturbing, or if it is
illegal for you to read about them, stop reading here.
I met her in a nightclub. I was drunk and we were climbing stairs. I
was behind her, staring up at her peach perfect ass squeezed into a
tight red miniskirt. She must have known, because when we got to the
top she was waiting for me with a smile.
We talked for a while. We didn't have much to say and the music was too
loud to hear anyway. She reached up and kissed me. Her hands slid over
my body, tracing my nipples, grazing my ass and skirting around my
crotch. I reached out to return the favor and she smacked my hands
away. She stuck her tongue in my mouth and I tasted alcohol and
cigarettes. Her mouth was hot, young, soft and greedy. She told me her
name was Alison.
"Come home with me," she said.
Outside the club I thought we were waiting for a taxi. Her friends
showed up and they started talking and smoking. Mostly they ignored me.
I was about to wander off, figuring she'd lost interest in me. She
grabbed my arm. We kissed again. Her hands were exploring my ass and
brushing over my crotch. My penis began to stiffen. She laughed and
pushed me away.
"It won't be long now. Helen's coming with the car," she said.
She reached out and put her hand on my chest. Her finger drew little
circles around my nipple and she grinned. I grinned back. I was buzzing
from the drink. I didn't know what was going to happen.
Something seemed wrong but I was prepared to give it a go anyway. There
was just something about the way she spoke with her friends I didn't
like. I thought it was likely we'd get to her place and after an hour
or two she'd kick me out and I'd be in some unknown place at five AM in
the morning with a hangover. Worse things happen. She was sexy enough
to take the risk.
Her rubber skirt showed every beautiful curve of her hips and ass and
her closely tailored blouse made the most of her pert C cups. Platform
boots gave her legs an extra three inches, but I was still looking
across at the top of her head and her mousy brown pageboy cut.
The next thing I remember, she was pushing me into the middle spot in
the back seat of an old Volvo. I was squeezed in between her and her
friend. Her friend was tall and overweight. Squeezed so tight between
two women I felt a little self-conscious, and a little excited too. Her
friend squealed when my hand touched her leg. Alison grabbed my wrists
and held them up.
"Save those for me," she said. She leaned in to kiss me again, still
holding my wrists. I felt her tongue exploring my mouth and the stale
taste of cigarettes. Somehow that taste seemed sexy on her.
I looked into her orange-brown eyes. There was something hard in them.
Her eyebrows were tweazed thin and her nose was narrow. Her jaw was
narrow too, and her face had a thin, cruel look: beautiful but lean.
There was something about her casual attitude and her looks that
reminded me of all the women I'd never dared chase and never known why.
There was a coldness about her that was thrilling. It was something I'd
always avoided in women, but now I didn't care.
The late night streets were clear, and I soon saw the glow of the city
disappear outside the car. We were driving out into the country
somewhere. By the sharp twisting and turning of the car I guessed we
were on a narrow 'B' road, not much better than a farm track.
I was pressed against the soft fleshy body of her friend, and I
couldn't help noticing the big woman's breasts: like her they were
generously sized. I was afraid to move my arms in case I brushed
against them. Alison's hands kept groping me and my penis was hard but
trapped awkwardly in my pants. I didn't dare readjust it. She would let
me touch her, barely, but then push my hands away.
I lost track of how long we were in the car. I might have fallen asleep
for a bit. The next thing I remember was her pulling me out of the car.
The two of us were left behind as the car turned on gravel. It drove
off down a narrow lane.
We were in near total darkness. There were no lights anywhere out
there. It sounded like the deep countryside. There was a smell of grass
and animals. It was a clear moonless night. I couldn't really see
anything of the house we were entering. I heard her pull keys out of
her bag and opening a heavy door. I expected her to turn on a light,
but she didn't. She grabbed my hand and led me through pitch dark
rooms. I was completely disoriented.
"Careful, the stairs down here are steep," she said, as if holding back
laughter.
"Isn't there a light?" I asked.
"I don't want to wake everyone up," she explained. "So, be quiet."
I found the beginning of the stairs with my foot and began to descend.
She was right, the stairs were very steep. I heard them creak and bend
beneath me. I heard dirt and splinters crunch under my boots. I reached
to steady myself and felt a roughly painted brick wall. It was cool to
the touch.
The stairway was narrow and she went first. She held my hand, tugging
me after her. At the end of the stairs there was a narrow corridor with
sharp bends. We went through a low doorway and I felt the lintel brush
against my hair. It was an old building.
"Here we are. Let me just close this door," she said.
I heard the sound of a heavy door being pushed closed, and an archaic
sounding catch. The sound was dead, not echoing like before.
"The bed is just behind you," she giggled, pushing me back until I
stumbled into it.
I fell back onto the bed. It was big and soft. The room and the bed
smelled of female. I gasped as I felt her small hands unfastening my
jeans. She pulled them down around my ankles. My boots stopped her
pulling them off.
"How do I get these stupid boots off?" she demanded in frustration.
She was almost as drunk as I was. I unlaced my boots and she pulled off
my jeans and boxers, throwing them away onto the floor. The feeling of
her delicate hands on my skin was fantastic. I shivered as she teased
me. I was rock hard, and I felt her breath on my penis in the total
darkness. I gasped. She got rid of my shirt and I was completely naked.
She pushed me back on the bed and crawled forward. She straddled me. I
could feel her pants were hot and damp on my chest. She gave a quiet
moan. She pushed my hands back either side of my head. I exclaimed in
shock as I felt her fastening something around my wrist.
"What? What are you doing?" I yelped.
"Shush. Just lay back and be quiet if you want to fuck me," she said
half laughing. Her hands were at my other wrist now, and I felt
something close around it. I yanked at my wrists, but they couldn't
move more than an inch from where they were fastened. I couldn't reach
to touch my face.
Her hands were on my chest now as she slid back. She straddled my belly
while she played with my nipples. I felt her hair brush my face as she
leaned over to kiss me. This time her kiss was fierce. She was crushing
and biting my lips. Without the lust and alcohol I would have cried out
in pain. Her tongue invaded my mouth again, probing and teasing.
Forcing my mouth open further she reached deeper in. She pulled away
and moaned. I was gasping with excitement.
She climbed off me, and I could feel her moving about on the bed. Then
I felt her sit down on my chest. She seemed heavy for someone so small.
It was hard to breathe. Her ass slid back and I felt the touch of her
tongue on my penis.
She sat up and after some clumsy positioning, her crotch descended on
my face. The smell of her overwhelmed my nostrils. She squirmed
slightly, rubbing a smear of her juice over my nose and eyes. She
squirmed again, and her sex pressed against my mouth. She leaned back
half suffocating me. My nose was filled with her juice and her smell.
"Come on," she said. "Lick me." She moaned, then laughed. "If you're
good..."
She leaned forward and I felt her fingers brushing on my penis. The
hotness of her mouth enveloped the end. I felt a sucking, soft and
erotic, then hard, almost painful. Then she sat up again. I knew what
she wanted. I was just partially stunned.
I was struggling for air. Light headed, slow and confused, I finally
reacted. I opened my mouth and began to run my tongue around her sex.
"And be careful with those fucking teeth," she warned suddenly. More
carefully with just my lips and tongue I began to lick her sex. At
first I was licking her lips, then trying to delve inside and lap up
the salty juice.
She squirmed around forcefully, rubbing her clit against my jaw. It
felt like it would be dislocated, or my neck would give out. Then she
got her clit in reach of my tongue and I began to work on it. It wasn't
long before my tongue was tired.
My jaw was aching from holding my mouth open. My lips were sore. The
smell and taste of her was everywhere. Her juices covered my face and
matted my hair. She could feel me tiring beneath her. She became
impatient as I slowed down.
Her hand felt cold as it cupped and cradled my balls. She subtly closed
her grip around them. I felt nervous and excited. Her control over me
was crystallized in that grip. I feared it. I loved it. She squeezed a
little harder.
I gained new reserves of energy and began working my tongue again. My
mouth and tongue really ached. I was desperate to make her cum, and I
didn't know if I could do it. I had to use my lips and chin on her
clit, even my nose, to give my tongue a rest. That just made my neck
hurt even worse.
"Ahhh, don't slow down now you filthy bitch," she growled.
I felt the long polished nails of her other hand stroking slow
electricity down the underside of my erect penis. Then her hand closed
around it, nails digging sharp pain in the underside. Her mouth closed
over the tip, and then slowly slid down further until I felt her
completely containing me. She wasn't afraid to let me feel her teeth on
my shaft.
I couldn't feel the pain so much now I was dizzy with lust and
frustration. She gave me just enough to tease me. Floating high on a
desire for release I slacked off on licking her clit at times. Her
claw-like grip on my balls soon brought back my concentration when that
happened.
Eventually, she started to writhe desperately on top of me. I thought
she was going to break my jaw with her ass, or at least suffocate me.
Finally, she climbed off me and I could hear her rubbing herself and
moaning as she fingered herself to climax.
"You're not much use," she snorted. "You'll have to do better than
that."
She was doing something in the room, but I didn't know what.
"A lot better," was her parting shot as she closed the heavy door
behind her. She was gone. I was alone in the complete darkness.
After the time in the dark my eyes should have adjusted so I could see
something. I still couldn't see anything at all. I could smell and
taste her juice covering me. It was drying into a crust. Every breath
overwhelmed me with her scent. Still, I was tired and hurting. I
couldn't get my hands loose. I fell asleep waiting for her to return. I
slept naked and uncovered on the bed.
A chill woke me later. It was still completely dark and I was shivering
and desperate to use the toilet. My head ached. My mouth was dry. Time
seemed to have stopped. Every discomfort seemed magnified and prolonged
forever. It wasn't long before I was shouting for help. It was no good.
The darkness seemed to swallow my cries. I gave up when I was sure I
could not be heard.
I drifted in and out of a disoriented haze, half-conscious and
helpless. I don't know how long I was there. I began to suspect that
beneath the cotton sheet covering the bed was a plastic cover because
my back was hot and sweaty while my front was cold.
Her juices had dried and crusted all over me. I could still smell her.
If I hadn't been in such discomfort it would have made me horny.
All the time I lay there, I never heard any sound but my own. That
convinced me that nobody could hear me either. I could shout myself
hoarse; nobody could hear me.
Not only was I considering wetting the bed to relieve the pain in my
bladder, I was becoming frightened that I might never escape. I
imagined I would simply die, still locked to the bed. I had quite a bit
of movement, but I couldn't reach anything using my feet. It was
hopeless.
I detected the faintest signs of a footfall before I heard someone
working the heavy door catch. Rather than cry out I remained silent. I
listened with fear to every noise. I had been imagining dreadful
scenarios for too long. There was a sound of the door opening. Painful,
dazzling light outlined a figure in the doorway. Then came a voice: it
was her.
"Wakey, wakey. Rise and shine cutie," her voice called out. The sound
of dry, false humor jarred my ears. I blinked. My eyes adjusted a
little. The light coming in through the door was from a single dim, low
wattage bulb.
She sat down next to me on the edge of the bed. She had a tray on her
lap. I could smell coffee. I still felt sick, but anything to drink
would be good.
"Here you are," she held a china coffee cup to my lips.
It was black and strong. I drank it thankfully.
"I didn't mean to leave you here like this. I fell asleep on the
bathroom floor," she said without much sympathy.
"Unlock me please," I croaked. It sounded more pleading than I
intended. She just laughed.
"No. I don't trust you not to take revenge for being left here. I don't
know you. You might be dangerous," she said suspiciously.
I shook my head. My neck ached.
"Please, I just want to go to the toilet." I was begging now. She could
hear it in my voice, but her expression showed no signs of softening. I
wasn't sure, but it seemed something dark flickered across her features
for a moment.
"Do you really? I may allow that, but you must ask nicely," she said,
her mouth forming a mean little grin.
"Please. May I use the toilet? I really need to go," I said. She
blinked slowly: a deliberate blink.
"No, that won't do. You must call me Mistress. You must beg me," she
said. It was so matter of fact, as if it seemed such an ordinary thing
to ask. I was confused.
"What?" I asked, hesitating.
"Go on, do it. It's just a game. It won't kill you. Call me Mistress
and beg like the dirty bitch you were last night. Or don't you have the
balls?" she said contemptuously, daring me. I was pretty desperate. It
wouldn't hurt to play along.
"Please... Puh-please... Muh-mistress, I'm begging you... Begging you,
please may I use the toilet," I stuttered out. It was harder to say
than I thought. The words didn't want to come out, as if they meant
anything to me - which they didn't.
"Almost," she tilted her head to one side as if there were some
difficult decision to make. "You don't get to refer to yourself as 'I'.
That's not right. You are going to be my slave, and I think I will call
you Lisa." She paused to let this insane announcement sink in.
"So I think you should say, 'your slave Lisa' from now on when you
refer to my property - which is you. Don't you agree?" She did not
smile at this. It was clearly no joke.
I had no idea how to answer. She bared her teeth at me, fixing me with
an angry stare.
"Don't you slave Lisa? Don't you?"
Still I couldn't answer. She slapped me hard across the face.
"Answer me you stupid bitch!"
I was stunned. It was so sudden, so unexpected. It didn't hurt so much
but I thought my lip was bleeding. I was tempted to ask her if she was
mad. I remembered lying alone in the dark. I did not want to make her
angry: that could only make things worse.
"Yes... Yes," I said trying to buy time to work out what I had to say.
"Good. Now you forgot to call me mistress, but I will let that go this
time. Try again. Beg for the toilet," she demanded.
"Uh, please mistress, may... Uh, your slave Lisa is begging you,
please... Please may your slave Lisa use the toilet... Mistress." I
wasn't sure if I had it right. I just hoped she would calm down.
"Better. Not good, but I understand you are a bit slow and stupid, and
it will be hard for you to follow simple instructions. Alright, you may
use the toilet. I wouldn't want you to have a little accident. That
would be very, very bad. You would regret that," she said, pleased with
herself.
She put down the tray and pulled a bedpan from under the bed base. With
my cooperation she was able to fit it under me. "Quick now," she said.
I almost panicked. I'd been holding it in for so long that it was
really hard to relax, and her freakish behavior hadn't made me any less
nervous.
When I finally let go it felt very odd urinating with her staring right
into my eyes. I felt exposed. I was naked. I was urinating. I was
dependent on her.
The relief was incredible. As soon as I finished my penis began to
stiffen despite the cold.
She removed the bedpan with a strange smile and put it aside. She
pulled my legs down towards the end of the bed. I was too heavy for her
to move.
"If you don't cooperate with me, you could be here a long time Lisa.
Are you trying to obstruct me?" She demanded angrily.
I shook my head and scooted down the bed so she could get my ankles in
place. It was no surprise when she used leather cuffs to buckle my
ankles in place. Short chains ran from the cuffs, and were bolted to
the end of the bed. My arms were pulled out straight now. I didn't have
much movement.
She picked up my clothes that were still lying by the door and folded
them all over her arm. Picking up my boots as well, she walked out of
the room. She left the door open behind her, but that was no use to me.
I lay still for a while. I was still cold. I remembered that there had
been some food on the tray but I hadn't been given a chance to eat any
of it. I was still nauseous from the hangover but increasingly hungry.
My arms were very stiff and my wrists felt raw. My back hurt and my top
lip was split and swollen from when she hit me.
It seemed a long time before she returned. She was carrying some sort
of heavy rubber harness or garment. She stopped in front of me and
fixed me with a stare that was already becoming familiar. She spoke to
me in the sort of tone reserved for small but difficult children.
"Are you going to be a good girl and cooperate Lisa? Say 'yes mistress'
if you agree. It's your choice: you can behave or you can be punished.
Will you behave Lisa?"
"Yes mistress," I answered. I wasn't in any position to resist her. If
a chance to escape came I wasn't completely sure I would take it. I
didn't know where this game was going, but it hadn't been all bad so
far.
"Good girl," she said. To my surprise she reached over and released
first one and then the other wrist with some sort of key. Despite this
freedom I could still barely move my arms: they had cramped up
completely.
She ordered me to, "Sit up Lisa," and I complied.
My whole body was stiff and aching. I just wanted to move about and
work out the pains. She didn't give me time for that. Instead, she
pulled my arms back behind me. Kneeling on the bed she pulled the
leather harness up over my arms. It was a sort of long glove. The
single sleeve pulled up cocooning both my arms.
She hooked straps over my shoulders and crossed them over my chest. She
buckled the straps back to the sleeve, holding it up. There was already
no way I could get my arms out of it, and they were too stiff to move
properly anyway. The glove was tight at the bottom. It held my hands
tight together, palm against palm.
She tightened and buckled a strap around my wrist, and then further
straps higher up the sleeve. Each strap pulled my arms closer together.
The tighter it got, the harder I got. It hurt, and my already stiff
arms were cramping and twitching with involuntary spasms against the
sleeve. It didn't yield in the slightest. "Do you feel snug in your
armbinder Lisa?" she asked mockingly as she tightened the shoulder
straps.
"It hurts... Mistress... My arms are stiff," I said.
"Silly Lisa. They are not your arms. They are mine. Are you a dumb
bimbo who can't remember the simplest thing?" She said disdainfully.
"Better you stay silent if you can't make sense. Now apologize for your
inane babbling."
"Sorry mistress, slave Lisa is very sorry for babbling."
"Good. Now I don't want to hear another word from you. If I do, you
will be silenced, and that will be very uncomfortable for you, I
guarantee," she said ominously.
I nodded in response. It was easier not to speak anyway. It felt
foolish referring to myself as 'slave Lisa'.
I was now trussed up very tightly. I was more helpless and
uncomfortable than when my wrists were locked to the bed. However, I
could now sit up and this allowed her to feed me the rest of the coffee
and some fruit salad.
She fed me like a baby, spooning the food into my mouth for me. It was
a little peculiar. She looked into my eyes as she was doing it, and
each time I opened my mouth for the spoon she gave a little smile.
I noticed that apart from her accidental neglect, she had not done me
any real harm and this odd bondage game still felt a little sexy. I
reasoned it had to be a game. It wasn't as if I had done anything to
show I wasn't enjoying it at some level. My penis was still hard.
"Now, if you are going to behave, we can go and clean you up a little.
Are you going to be good?" She asked in her belittling tone.
I nodded submissively. She looked pleased, and unlocked my ankles from
the bed. She helped me turn around and swing my legs over the edge of
the bed so I could stand up. Then she hooked her finger in one of the
armbinder straps and dragged me along behind her. I stumbled after her,
my legs still numb.
We crossed the shadowy corridor and went through a door opposite that
opened into a black tiled bathroom. The bathroom was significantly
warmer than the bedroom and I felt a lot more comfortable.
She pushed me down onto a low stool and told me to sit still. She took
some things from a set of shelves hidden behind a door tiled to look
like the wall.
I could see myself in a huge mirror in front of me. I watched as she
pulled my long black hair out of its ponytail and wound it up into a
bun. She secured her handiwork with some pins and then pulled a
transparent plastic shower cap over my hair and low down my forehead.
She put on rubber gloves and began to cover me with foam from a large
aerosol can. She methodically covered my whole body up to my neck.
She spread the foam evenly over me with her hands. I enjoyed the
sensation, but the foam had an unpleasant acrid smell that its powerful
floral scent could not disguise. She waited.
Time passed. Finally, she got me to stand up and covered my ass with
the foam. The sensation of her fingers brushing over my sphincter was
arousing. The foam soon began to sting the sensitive skin around my
sphincter and genitals, spoiling my fun.
She muttered something about my arms, and then turned on the large
walk-in shower and directed me into it. I had some idea what she was
doing. I just didn't know why she was doing it. I enjoyed feeling her
rub me down with a rough sponge. The warm water felt good, easing my
stiff muscles. The shower took away most of the hair on my body. The
sponge rubbed away the remnants and half dissolved hairs.
The sensitive parts of my skin were sore. She dragged me out of the
shower with a smirk.
"What was that for?" I said.
"What was that for Mistress," she said grabbing my nipple and twisting
it.
I grimaced but it didn't hurt that much.
"What was that for Mistress?" I said, like a smartass.
"I can't stand hairy girls Lisa," she said, her smirk returning.
"I'm not a girl," I said.
"Really Lisa? Is Lisa a boy's name?"
"Uh, my name's not Lisa though," I said.
"Shut up you dick, you're ruining the game," she said.
"What are you doing ... Mistress?" I said. "I'm really thirsty," I
added.
"Here's the deal Lisa. A week from now I'll be at the goth club by the
memorial square. I'll be looking for you. You'll be dressed as a goth
chick, the works: corset, Cruella dress, long black droopy hair, black
makeup, all that goth stuff," she said.
"I think you mean Morticia dress," I said.
"Whatever," she said. "Wear a fucking skirt if you like. I don't care
as long as it's gothy."
"What?" I just didn't get it.
"And if you look the part we'll have hot lesbian kisses and I'll invite
you back to my place and we'll finish the whole Italian vampire movie
scene? How about that?" She grinned.
"You're kidding right?" I said.
"Nope," she said.
"That's a weird deal," I said.
She started to unfasten the armbinder.
"You're going to behave yourself right? No stupid shit? My parents are
upstairs."
"I've got a better deal," I kinked an eyebrow.
I was always cooler with a hangover. When I felt that bad I didn't care
about trying to please other people.
"Why don't you just bend over and take it up the ass right now, and
then a week from now we'll meet in the goth club. You can dress up how
the hell you want and I'll come as the skint-assed dole scrounger that
I am. We can get drunk, take drugs and have sex?"
She yanked the armbinder off me. My arms were still hairy like a
monkey, so I don't know what she thought she was doing with all that
aerosol crap.
"What's your real name asshole?" she asked me as she stamped out of the
room.
"Dave," I said with a grumble. "Nice that you should ask. I told you
last night."
"Why would I remember that?" she said, and threw my clothes at me.
"C'mon, get dressed, we're going upstairs for lunch and then you can
get a lift into town."
"You don't like my plan then?" I said.
"My deal, take it or leave it. I'll see you next week if you're game.
You should try it. It'll be worth it," she said, grinning, little
teeth.
She deliberately wiggled her ass as she climbed up the stairs. I
followed as soon as I could get my clothes on.
I found my way into a rough farmhouse kitchen. One second glance it was
all fake yuppie farmhouse. Expensive German built-in units hiding in
varnished wood units and a solid slate work surface and a Swedish
cooker hood.
Her parents were sitting at the untreated pine 'picnic' table eating
egg and bacon and picking over the Sunday paper. Alison was pouring big
mugs of tea. She handed me one.
I felt a bit awkward, faced with normal people but the hangover saw me
through it.
"Hello," I said.
"Afternoon," said her parents.
"This is Dave," said Alison.
I expected someone from the cast of Friends to make a wisecrack, or a
character from Peep Show to wander in. Then I realised that was my job.
To cut a dull story short her mother gave me a lift to the bus stop and
I rode back into the city staring out of a dirt covered window that
just about allowed in a few streaks of light.
I was considering her offer. It wasn't like there was a single
interesting thing happening in my life. Maybe if I cut loose and played
a few games I might find that life was a bit more like the TV shows;
the ones where everyone manages to live comfortably despite hardly
working; the shows where people always have new clothes and cars and go
on holiday to places that aren't Blackpool.
Or just as likely I could get my face punched in by some angry weirdo.
Not that I'd ever heard of a goth punching anyone.
Should it be continued?
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