Bimbo Construction Kit -7-

Synopsis:

Waking up is hard.

Story:

Chapter 7

I woke up, still entangled with Paul's arms and legs and wedged between him and the wall. I lay there, very content, for so long that I fell back asleep. When I woke up the second time, Paul had moved so as to place pressuee between my legs with his thigh.

The sensation confused me. I could swear I felt him up inside me, a solid presence filling me. The eroticism of my helpless but protected position overwhelmed me and I began to pant and squirm, trying to rub my crotch against his leg. This threatened to become painful because I needed to pee and because of the constriction of my tight garments but even the almost-pain seemed charged with the sexual energy. I had never known this element of my own self, that I could enjoy such a thing as being constricted, confined and sexually stimulated almost to the point of hurting.

"Having fun, baby girl?" Paul asked in my ear.

"Uh huh," I grunted between pants.

"Slow down, slow down, make it last," he whispered. But with one hand he reached behind me and pressed insistently on the plastic butt plug in my ass.

"Uh," I groaned.

"Got your little button, here," he chuckled. He worked the plug, in and out, in and out, just with little pressures, timing it to my stroking myself on his thigh, slowing me down then speeding me up. I wanted to bite him but I couldn't reach him, somehow.

"Sweet little girl, doesn't know what she's gotten into," he said. "You going to be a good girl?"

"Huh, uh, huh?"

"Being good means being my girl, all the time," he said.

"Okay," I managed to gasp.

"Being my girl means you do what I say." He squeezed me against the wall, the tiny dildo going in and out, in and out. "All the time, understand?"

"Uh huh," I said. It seemed, not reasonable, but--I couldn't think of a word. I couldn't think at all with him pushing in and out and helping me rub up and down.

He stopped and moved away slightly. "You agree? Misty?"

"Uh!" I tried to move closer, to get back to what I'd been doing; it occurred to me that I hadn't quite woke up yet.

"Say 'yes'." He held me away, pinning me down but unable to stroke myself against his leg, press my hass against his hand, reach him with my mouth or tongue. I squeezed my own legs together and moaned. With one hand he held both my wrists above my head, with the other he lifted one knee away from the other.

"This is unfair," I complained, finally opening my eyes to look up into his. They were grey with a hazel ring around the iris and flecks of green in the grey. His lashes were long and dark, his hair tousled with sleep, his mouth crooked in a seductive smile. He shook me in the grip of his hands; his body and his knee above
my waist trapped me completely. I sighed and almost came in spite of him denying me stimulation.

"Of course it's unfair," he said. "You can't be a girl in a man's world without looking unfairness right in the kisser." He grinned, wide as sin, evil as corruption, happy, goofy and lovable as a Disney character. "Now, tell me you're my girl, you belong to me and you'll do whatever I say."

I shuddered. I knew I wanted to say it; what's more, I knew I wanted to mean it. I bit my lip.

He kissed me on the forehead and I lifted my head to let him. "I'm your girl," I said. "I want to be your girl."

"And?"

I sighed and squirmed some more. As a game, this was a little too real and yet, I knew I wanted to do this. "I--I belong to you, um, y0u own me and I have to do whatever you tell me." I think I grinned back at him, trumping his dominance with my submissi0n.

"Whoa," he said. He moved closer, pressing his crotch against me. I felt his dick going between my legs. His hand found the button in my ass again and he released my hands to pull me tightly against him. "Close your eyes. Don't move," he ordered me. "Lie completely still."

Well, I tried.

He pulled me beneath him and arranged me into a position where he could fuck the separation between my legs, rubbing his cock between my thighs. He teased me with tweaks of my butt plug and brushes of his hard dick against the layers of cloth sealing my own sex inside.

"Help," I whispered. "Help me come."

He put a finger in my mouth and ordered me to suck on it. "No talking, no moving, don't even think," he said, chuckling. I tried to go limp; to have no voluntary tension anywhere, but my back arched and my thighs ached with straining muscles. I tried to slow my breathing, but I gasped in rhythm with his thrusts. I tried to surrender my will but I wanted him to dominate me, to fuck me, to make me belong to him.

He pounded me into the thin dormitory mattress and I came like a mountain, looking for a prophet to tell me--what's going to happen to me now?

Notes:

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This story is 936 words long.