Evolution / 21

Dara cleared Susan’s living room floor that afternoon, and started to teach her some of the many dance moves that she knew.   Susan had never seen Dara dance before, and found her to be shockingly good at it.   “Don’t be disappointed at first,” Dara explained.   “I’ve had years of practice.   But I think we have an advantage here... you’ve got the same body that I do.   Just keep reminding yourself of that.   If I can do it, so can you.”   Dara had herself worked up quite a bit before she finally got Susan up and started on some basics.   Dara postponed her plans for going out for several days, concentrating on this training for all of the daytime hours when the downstairs neighbor was at work.   Finally, Susan became reasonably acceptable at it, as she thought to herself.

“I don’t get why I have to be dressed up already,” Susan said.

“Think of it as a dress rehearsal.   Look at yourself in the mirror...”

Susan looked.   The dress was as attractive as she thought it was; her white, medium-heeled shoes no longer felt quite as clunky to walk in.   The short, provocative skirt seemed riveted to her hips; suspended from the widest part of her body.   Dara had been tempted to offer Susan her black leather miniskirt for the evening, but decided that it would be a bit much for Susan’s first “solo”.   Besides, at the place she planned to take Susan that night, it wouldn’t be necessary.   The clean, more mature lines of her current outfit would be perfect.   Dara herself was dressed “down”, uncharacteristically, in simple navy slacks and a flowery blouse, as if to not attract any attention away from her student.

“That’s it.   Try those hips, and watch what happens.”

Susan swiveled her hips as Dara had taught.   The dress swiveled with her, and propelled the skirt around in a little wave.

“So, how does it feel to have hips?” Dara asked.

“Different,” Susan said.

“I thought so.   Your pelvis is different than a man’s.   It’s supposed to be.   The leather miniskirt doesn’t do that, by the way.   You’ll have to give it a rehearsal as well the first time you wear it.   Now try it again, faster.”

Susan did so, and began to learn that she had control over not only her body, but her clothing as well.   She practices this for several minutes.   The feeling between her legs was unusual; although she had worn skirts before, as Dara had insisted upon from time to time, she had never really paid attention to the cool, airy feeling that it was giving her, despite the opaque undergarments that still separated her from the outside world.

“Okay.   Let’s try that last one one more time,” Dara said, as she started the music.   Susan followed along perfectly.   Dara stood back, and merely watched.   When the song ended, Dara applauded.

“Good for a beginner!”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I guess I’ve got a good teacher,” Susan said.

“The best!” Dara smiled.   “Now, my friend, your lessons are over.   You’ll improve with experience.   Time to treat the world to your talents.”

“Look, Dara, if you think I’m going to treat the whole world–“

Dara rolled her eyes.   “Susan, what I meant–“

“Aaaa!   Got you!” Susan laughed.   “Let’s go.   We’ll stop for dinner first.”

The club Dara took Susan to was Dara’s favorite.   Alas, Susan got little chance to flirt at all, as men seemed to queue up for her attention right away.   Dara slowly sidled away, finding a friend that she knew as a “regular” here, and watched Susan from a distance.   Susan seemed to be doing very well all by herself; she seemed enamored of herself as several men surrounded her, eager to talk to this “new” girl.   Dara, who distracted herself from her friend’s attention to keep an eye on Susan, could see that Susan was smiling in much of the coy, feminine way she had done with the shoe salesman.   She was obviously enjoying herself.

As time went on, still having yet to reach the dance floor, Susan managed to whittle the contenders down a bit.   Finally, she allowed one man to buy her a drink.   Glancing Dara’s way, she got an approving nod in return.

It wasn’t much longer before Susan got to the dance floor, where she did perfectly well.   She still had the look of being a bit unsure of herself at times, and wasn’t quite as splashy as Dara was, but attracted quite a bit of attention nevertheless.

Dara finally caught up with her on the dance floor, where Susan had something important to say.   “I know that guy,” she said, pointing to someone at one of the tables.     “One of George’s best friends.   I don’t know what to do...”

“This isn’t the place.   He won’t recognize you.   Call him later if you want.”

“Okay,” Susan said.

“How are you doing?   I see you’ve gotten someone’s attention...”

“Yes.   His name’s Ken.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I know lots of the people here.   He’s a nice guy.”

“So what do I do?”

“Whatever you want!   Solo, remember?   Just have a good time!”

She returned to the man who she had been with for the last half-hour.   They were there until the club was ready to close.   Dara was sitting at the bar alone, talking to the bartender, a good friend of hers, as Susan was ready to leave–with the same man.   Susan turned and waved to Dara as they were ready to exit.

Dara waved back.   “Good luck,” she whispered to herself.   “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ve never seen her before.   A friend of yours, Dara?”   the bartender asked.

Dara had no enthusiasm at all.   “Yeah.”

“She’s really hot.   Had all the guys after her tonight.”

“I know,” Dara said.   The bartender left her to take a tray of empties from one of the waiters.

Dara’s expression was blank, and she barely breathed the words as she stared at the door. “I know.   I made her that way.”

Susan found herself encountering many problems, all of a sudden; virtually every question that Ken asked, in his attempts to make small talk, had an answer she couldn’t say; after all, the biggest event in her life was still a secret.   She decided to be as truthful as possible, recasting George’s life as her own as far as where she worked, where she lived, and so on.   She nearly choked on the question of whether or not she lived alone, but finally mentioned that she had a female roommate.   She knew she couldn’t say who it was, however.

It was interesting to Susan, the way that she could make out Ken’s thought processes as if they were her own, simply by mentally putting George in his place.   The ride in the car seemed somewhat frustrating to him, since he couldn’t look at her, or touch her, and yet needed to keep her interest level up.   Susan knew it as well–this idle time between the excitement and sensual fury of the club, music, and dance floor, and between the obvious excitement of being alone in Ken’s apartment, was the most likely for a female guest to “come to her senses” and change her mind about going through with the whole thing.   A shock wave seemed to pass through Susan as she realized why this was the case; once at Ken’s, it was nearly inevitable that she’d end up in his bed, and would soon feel his yet-unseen penis penetrate her soft vagina.   Neighbors would see her coming in, and would know why, and would talk about it.   She would submit to having sex with a near stranger, for what might very well turn out to be a one-night stand.   And what if it wasn’t?

Susan nearly “came to her senses” right then and there.   Ultimately, though, she didn’t.   She’d go through with it–after all, it was the final step in her training, at least as Dara described it.   Ken was still being a perfect gentleman, so she had no grounds to “bail out” on that account, although she suddenly realized that she was sending those waves of indecision quite clearly, and this was distressing him.

She looked at him.   It seemed to trouble him very much that she seemed so skittish; she remembered what that felt like on George’s first date with Karen, so Susan knew the feeling well.   Suddenly much seemed to snap into place; Ken was so scared of having things go wrong because he wanted Susan so much.   So much!   And Susan had had her pick of some very attractive guys tonight; and Ken was her choice.   And so it would be.   She had sent many guys away who would end up disappointed and, likely, alone tonight.   But it was her–her body, her scent, her personality, her complex femininity that was making it all possible.   She’d never gotten a mate this easily in her past life.   A feeling of immense power grew within her again, centering silently on that part of her which rested between her legs.   An idea sprouted.

Ken was surprised when Susan, now at his apartment, seemed to be agreeable to most everything, and wasn’t insistent on having yet another drink or a long round of small talk.   If anything, she seemed to be poised to pounce on him.   And so it happened.   Ken was attacked on his very own couch, Susan on top of him in an instant, her warm tongue soon probing its way into his mouth.   To Susan, the rationale was simple.   Stay in control.   Even on this, her long-awaited and long-feared “solo”, she’d be no mere subject to Ken’s affections; she’d run the show and show him things he’d never seen before.   The idea, born of the sensation of power she had felt earlier, seemed perfect.   She’d be the woman that George would have wanted for such an event; strong, passionate, insatiable, inventive, and energetic.   This wasn’t George’s model for the ideal life partner, of course, but for a sex partner–perfect.

With one hand, Susan explored, right through Ken’s slacks, what he held in store for her.   He had been taken off guard, and she’d keep him that way.   The experience was going to happen on her terms, if at all.   That was the secret.

When Susan finally got up, Ken led the way to the bedroom, still fully dressed, and Susan strutted in after him.   The bed hadn’t been made, although from the looks of things he had slept alone the previous night and didn’t expect company tonight.   Good.   She stepped around the corner of the bed, exploring the room to her satisfaction, and something caught the heel of her shoe.

Ken looked nervous.

Susan knelt down to look.   Secured to the frame of the bed, and lying underneath the corner of the bed on the floor, was a length of wide yarn with loops in one end.   The purpose was obvious.   Proceeding to the other corner at the foot of the bed, she found a similar length of yarn tucked up between the frame and box spring; she pulled this free.

Ken was trying to explain.   He was nervous; a simple accident led to a discovery he hadn’t planned on happening.   Susan obliterated the worry by holding up the loop of yarn and smiling wickedly at him.   She put the loop around her wrist, and tugged the loop tight.   It was snug, but the yarn held no promise of cutting off her circulation.   Good.

“Kinky,” she said.   Her own voice, again powerfully seductive, amused her.   “I like it.”

Ken hadn’t recovered yet, and was still trying to explain it away.   “Just an experiment, really... something I read once...   We don’t have to...”

“So, you’ve tied people up with this?”   Susan said, grinning.   “Was it fun?   Seems like it would be.”

Again, Susan flashed back to the last time she’d been secured like this; on that floor under Marcy and Dara.   She remembered how George had felt; helpless, and uncontrollably excited.

Ken couldn’t lie.   “Yes–“

Susan cut him off.   “Have you ever been tied up yourself?”   She unfastened the loop from her wrist and dropped it on the bed.

“Me?   No, I’ve only–“

“Then I think you have a new experience coming your way.   Why don’t you undress and show me what you’ve got?”

Ken loosened his collar.   The idea excited him.   Good.

Susan, still fully dressed, went to the head of the bed, where, as expected, two more lengths of yarn could be found.   She extracted them and dropped the loop-ends on top of the bed.

Ken dropped his clothes in seconds, and stood before Susan in all his naked glory.   Realizing that she didn’t want to make this look like a tie-up-grab-the-money-and-run attempt that she had seen on the movies, and wanting to ease his likely fears in this regard, she sat on the bed and removed her shoes, and then, standing, reached under her skirt and pulled down her underwear, removing her pantyhose.   She put her arms behind her back to unfasten her dress.   “Lie down,” she commanded.

Ken rushed into the bed, posthaste.   Susan circled the bed, and fastened Ken into it with the yarn loops.   It immobilized him quite well.   She returned to the foot of the bed, seriously contemplating for just a moment simply taking him right now without undressing any further at all.   It was one of those advantages of wearing a skirt.   But, no, that had three disadvantages; first, it wasn’t fair.   Second, she couldn’t see the reaction of him to the view of her body, and she ached to see how she could affect him that way.   Finally, she’d likely get all sweaty in the only clothes she had to go home with.

She stood at the foot of the bed, and slowly teased away her clothing.   Shoulders first, then her chest; this elicited not so much as a sound, but a deep sigh from Ken.   Also good.   She grabbed the skirt’s waistband and slid the whole assembly over her head; it was the only way this particular skirt came off.   Last was her bra, which unclasped in front as most of her bras did.   She peeled it away from her breasts; another gasp from Ken.   Susan was already wet between the legs; Ken was already erect without her having so much as touched him.   She knelt down again to retrieve her pocketbook, and produced a condom from it.   She didn’t need it, of course, since she hadn’t ovulated since her period (which thankfully ended today).   However, Ken didn’t know that.   George’s biggest fear, when tied up, was that his captors planned to impregnate themselves; Susan respected that fear, didn’t need it for what she planned, and wanted not to stretch Ken’s trust any further.

Again, she felt powerful.   If she was fertile, Ken would be powerless to prevent Susan from impregnating herself.   And he had voluntarily allowed himself into this position.   Susan figured that George never would have done such a thing... voluntarily.   It was obvious that, upon occasion, it was easy for a man’s hormones to override his intellect.   She eliminated the fear when she fitted the condom onto Ken’s waiting, lonely penis.

Long, slender fingers first touched Ken’s toes, and started sliding their way up his feet, over the yarn, up his legs.   Susan realized that she had made one mistake already–she would have taken a lick on his penis if she hadn’t already protected him.   So she simply breathed on it; and even the heat from her breath made it grow before her eyes.   One of her increasingly long, painted fingernails slid smoothly over him.   Her legs were up on the bed now, and she scrambled up further on the bed.

She hung her body down over his, slowing dragging her nipples up across his abdomen, and chest.   He moaned in anticipation as they approached his head, and she indeed “steered” to one side; her breast and nipple heading for his mouth.   One it got there, he sucked it in.

The feeling was incredible.   Susan collapsed down onto the bed, pressing her right breast into Ken’s face, and moaned herself.   He couldn’t get enough, and neither could she; she rubbed around, and around.   Ken wanted his hands free more than anything, to wrap those strong arms around Susan’s body, but Susan was in no condition to free him.   After several minutes she moved sideways, stealing her nipple away from him and offering him the other in return.   One knee brushed between his legs.

Susan started to feel her control come back to her.   She wanted attention paid to her nether region now, and time came to take advantage of Ken’s bondage.   “You’ve had enough,” she whispered.   “I should be teasing you, not just satisfying you.”   She pulled her left nipple, slowly, up, up, and out of his reach.   He craned his neck as far as it could go before collapsing onto the bed.

“I’ve got something to show you,” she told him.   “I hope you like it.”

Her body went back to sliding up against his.   Her navel passed his eyes, and then a furry patch of pubic hair reached his chin.   Ken was panting; excited beyond control, and now fully under the spell of Susan’s scent.   Susan smiled wickedly again, knowing full well what the source of his excitement was.   Finally she was up on her knees, and slowly offering herself to his tongue.   She sat on his face, paying heed to Dara’s earlier warning about not suffocating him, but surrounding him nonetheless.   The power began to take over; the intensity building in her vagina, her clitoris extended.   She came all over him; surrounded and engulfed him in her orgasm.   Knowing what was happening, Ken nearly exploded, himself, on the spot.

Susan was exhausted, and turned around to lean up against Ken’s headboard, with his head between her legs.   Her secretions slowly moistened his hair as she tried to recover her breath, and her control.   It had been more of a simple physical release, than the complete, passionate explosion that Dara had given her, but tiring nonetheless.   Susan was, again, surprised at the speed of her recovery; Ken was panting as well, but hadn’t reached orgasm yet.   Susan found herself ready to finish him off, and was back on her hands and knees, heading down towards Ken’s pelvis, when he spoke to her.   A drop of her moisture fell to his lips.

Ken seemed very serious.   “You’re wet, aren’t you?”

“Of course.   You think you’d be the one to know, given what you just did to me...”

“No.   I mean... wet.”

Susan stopped in her tracks, sighed and sat up on her knees, still straddling Ken’s head.

“What makes you think that?” Susan asked.

“Just a guess,” Ken answered.   “Are you?”

“Forty percent of all women are, Ken.   Does it bother you?”

His question answered, Ken contemplated the situation rather than answering Susan’s follow-up.   He was still very aroused, as Susan could see.

“Well?”

“Umm... well, I guess not... It’s just that you could...”

Susan understood.   “Oh, I see...   And yes, you’re right.   I can see what’s on your mind.   If I were to pee right now...”

Ken nodded.   Susan couldn’t see that, but she felt it with her legs.  

Again, his excitement level felt very high.

“And you’re powerless to prevent it, aren’t you, Ken?   You’re looking straight up and imagining that bladderful of urine that I have inside me right now, Ken... right over your face, isn’t it?   You were just licking the very opening that with the slightest urge might happen to spill all over you...”

Ken tested his bonds.   Susan was sure that he could break them if he really wanted to; the yarn was tied off to a stamped metal bed frame that would easily cut through it given enough stress.   He was enjoying being helpless; he didn’t really want to be free at all.

Susan’s voice became cute and sexy.   “Oh, Ken, I didn’t know.   But I suppose that if I really had to go to the bathroom right now...”

Ken moaned a bit.   Susan could see his penis stretch inside its sheath.   This exactly is what he wanted.   She looked down at him.

“Oh, yes, Ken... You feel my power now.   Your entire life is under the control of my pussy.   Any second now, a long, beautiful golden stream could come out of me, and you can’t do anything to stop it.”

Ken’s thrashing increased.   Susan realized that she hadn’t given him a safeword; but if he made any serious indication that he really wanted to end this, she’d honor it.   She felt bad for a moment that she really was “wet”; if not, she’d be able to complete the fantasy and actually pee on him.

“Oh, yes, Ken, you really make me want to...   Or, perhaps, I should just set my breasts loose on you.   Just a little bit longer, and then I could have your whole body inside me, Ken...”

“No... No...” Ken whispered, losing himself in the fantasy that Susan was spinning.

“I could suck you right into that pussy you’re looking at, Ken.   You’d be inside me forever.   Does that worry you?   It should.”

Ken was nearing orgasm.   Susan’s time was limited.   He thrashed all the more, aching for something to touch him, but still being reasonably careful to not actually break free.

“Oh, Ken, you shouldn’t wiggle like that when I have a full bladder...   I   might not be able to hold it...   Oh, no, here it comes... It’s coming, Ken!   Oh, yes...   I’m peeing...   Ooooh...”

Susan, who was prevented from losing herself in the fantasy by the actual need to prevent doing what she was threatening, was giggling to herself instead.   Here, under her body, was a male that would actually be affected the way that Susan was play-threatening to do.   A fantasy that could easily become real life; but Susan could never do such a thing on such a spontaneous whim.   Ken’s brain saw the image clearly, though; and could feel the urine splashing down on him even now.   Fortunately for him, the real thing had been flushed away an hour ago inside the ladies’ room at the club.

Susan swiveled around, aiming her vagina for Ken’s penis.   She sat upright on him, and it was inside of her.   She continued the fantasy.   “Oh, no, Ken... I’m such a bad girl... I’ve wet all over you!   Look, you’re covered in pee!   Now you’ll end up inside me at...”

Ken’s orgasm interrupted Susan’s monologue.   It was violent, tremendously exciting, and lifted Susan clear off the bed for a moment.   She had a second orgasm shortly thereafter, and lay down on top of him.       Realizing that, in order to maintain any effectiveness of the condom, he’d have to leave her body right away, she held the base of his penis and condom, and lifted herself from him.   She hadn’t reached orgasm, but was exhausted.   She untied only his arms, so he could hold her; and lay down next to him.”

“You are really ‘wet’, aren’t you,” Ken said to her.

Susan’s voice was different again; it was normal.   Friendly, honest, but not sexual.   “Yes, Ken, I am.   That’s why I couldn’t really pee on you.   Besides, your mattress would have been soaked.”

“Thanks,” said Ken.

Susan tried not to giggle at the thought, but did anyway.   “You should have seen the look on your face, Ken.   Priceless.”

“Well, you were good,” Ken said.   “I’ve never felt like that before.   So helpless.”

“And it makes me feel so... powerful.   It’s wonderful to be a woman, Ken.   You should try it sometime.”

“Maybe I shall, Susan.   Maybe I shall.”

In moments both were asleep.