Justine's dark side

CHAPTER ONE

I love pain, you see, and that's a fact I'm afraid I can't shy away from any longer.

Nor do I feel bad about it.

Nor do I dread it.

Not in my head, anyway.

No.

I have this thing about sexual stimulation, and when I want to get it, there's nothing that will keep me from it.

The truth is, I love it when a man ties me up and does to me.

It gets me crazy, if you know what I mean.

And I'm sure you do.

I wasn't always like this.

Well, let me correct that.

I was probably like this from the day I was born, only I didn't know it.

There were signs early on that something wasn't right with my love life.

I can clearly remember going out with guys and somehow not quite being able to get it off…

I mean, they always had a ball, because I could fuck all night.

I spread my legs for one and all, looking for the man with the magic cock, the man who could bring me over the brink and make me come.

But no go.

I'm one of the lucky ones… one of those real good-looking Chicago city babes.

I mean, I'm tall, blonde, shapely and with a smile that could dazzle a toothpaste manufacturer.

So men come on to me all the time. They want to fuck me, and will kiss my ass for the privilege.

Which is the whole problem!

I don't like men who kiss my ass! I want men who will make me kiss theirs! Literally!

I want men who will show me the way to my knees, and who, if I'm bad, won't hesitate to discipline me for my indiscretions.

Is that asking too much?

I don't think so…

I really don't…

I need that kind of loving…

I guess you could say I'm that cosmic pain girl!

Anyway, it all came clear to me, finally, this year.

Yes, just this year.

I'm only twenty-three, so I guess I'll have enough good times left, although when I think of all those men whose balls I turned blue from the age of eighteen through to now, I have to blush.

Sorry guys!

I didn't mean it!

It wasn't my fault.

I just… I just… didn't know…

You should have smacked me around for being such a ball-breaker.

Then I would have fucked you to death!

Really.

Men, I've got a pair of legs, and just slightly plump, porcelain thighs that feel so good around your neck…

Believe me, I know…

And I can sit on your face so good, so that my pussy comes right down on your mouth and my asshole on your nose, and both get warmer and warmer as I force you to suck me off and jerk yourself off while you do…

Until you throw me off and start to whip me!

Yeah!

But I'm getting ahead of my story.

Way ahead.

The truth of the matter is, I've never been so hot or so needing a good fuck as I was that night, early this year, when I was hanging out at Mickey's, my neighborhood bar.

I live in Chicago, otherwise known as… Stewardess Town.

Although I'm not a Stew, I'm a private secretary for a busy Chicago broker, I still find that atmosphere in those singles bars kind of funky.

I mean, the guys are all hard-on, and the women know it.

They spend hours getting themselves to look the part, like a centerfold, and then break the balls of the guys who fuck them!

It's fun…

And then they find one sugar daddy who'll fuck them in Chicago, and add him to the list of men they fuck around the country…

Not a bad gig…

So, on this particular night, I wasn't expecting anything any different.

I knew there'd be the funny looking guys trying to score with me it's always the funny looking ones who seem so desperate and that I'd probably pick some lucky guy out sooner or later and let him take me to his place and try to please me…

I was sucking on the straw of my whiskey sour when this guy sat down next to me.

I glanced over and almost spit out my drink!

I mean, he was gorgeous!

And I'm not kidding about that.

He was a hunk!

Nothing like the guys who usually sniff my quim from across the room and come over, with a collar already around their neck! No!

This guy looked like a movie star.

Paul Newman.

He was tall, with blue black hair, and broad shoulders… the likes of which were enough to make me swallow very hard, and as my eyes fell to his bulge, I knew I was in trouble.

His cock was enormous!

And it was sticking right through his jeans.

Well, I don't mean he was walking around with a hard-on in plain view… I'm just trying to tell you that he had it… the balls, you know, to back up what he looked like!

And he was certainly getting to me!

And he knew it.

I took a deep breath and could smell his manly scent. It was the shaving cream, or after shave or after something… but whatever it was, it was feeling up my nose pretty good.

I wanted to fuck him.

My pussy was juicing up, and that alone signaled to me there was something quite unusual going on here.

I mean, ordinarily it takes quite a lot for my pussy to get all wet…

But not this night!

I was afraid that if I stood sip, there'd be a tell-tale stain on my dress, and I didn't want that!

"May I buy you a drink?"

"Me?"

"Well, you are the foxiest lady here, aren't you?"

He smiled, and I melted still further.

I guess I have him the look, because after a couple of drinks with him, I was feeling pretty lightheaded and decided to take just the teeniest bit of the initiative.

Something I'd telegraphed much earlier. "So… aaah… ummm… do you live around here?"

"As a matter of fact, not too far…"

"Ohhhh… and… aaahhh… would you like to… that is… are you…"

"Interested in fucking you?"

He smiled over his words!

"Yy… well… I mean…"

"You know what you mean. Why don't you just come out and say it. What do you think you're afraid of?"

"Nothing," I said, clearly. "All right… would you like to have me sit on your face?"

"Would you like me to?"

I blushed!

Can you imagine that? Me, the queen of ball busters, was actually blushing!

I knew this guy was special!

"Yes…"

My voice was sotto, almost to the point where he couldn't hear me.

"Louder," he said.

He sounded almost demanding, and I wasn't sure what that meant.

But I liked it! I knew that much.

There was something about the tone of his voice that sent needles through me.

He really knew how to turn me on!

"I… I… want you to fuck me!"

It was so loud I thought the rest of the bar was going to stop and turn their heads toward me and lean in… just like in that TV commercial…

But no…

It was only my imagination.

No one else was that interested in my sexual games… they were all too busy with their own.

And just as well.

He finished his drink and told me in no uncertain terms to hurry up and finish mine.

I did as I was told…

I didn't want to hold him up at all!

Now, as downed the last of my cocktail, I looked at him and smiled.

"Now what?"

"Now you follow me out that door an into my waiting limo."

Waiting limo.

Gooooooddddd… I liked the sound of that. I slid off the stool and followed, just as he said, until we were outside.

There, a long black stretch limo was waiting for us.

The driver opened the door for me and I got in, followed by this gorgeous guy.

"My name is Clifford," he said, softly, as he slid in next to me.

"Clifford. Nice name. Moi Justine."

He didn't react to my name at all.

Instead, he took my hands and made me put them in my lap.

I thought that was kind of cute.

He wanted me to sit a certain way.

Well, that was easy enough.

I mean, why not?

Why shouldn't I sit exactly the way he wanted?

I couldn't see any reason why I shouldn't, so I did. I got myself all nestled in and then, as my hands were in my lap, I couldn't believe what he was going to do next.

I should have stopped it right there, maybe… I should have demanded to be let out of the car, and scurried for a taxi.

But I didn't.

That's the bottom line, I guess, when I look back at all of this.

I didn't… because I just didn't want to. I wanted him to do to me whatever it was he thought he had to…

I was going to go along.

Pussy rules!

Now, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silken cord.

It was pure white and very soft.

"What's that," I asked, still smiling.

"Bonds."

"Bonds?"

To me, in my job, bonds were something you purchased as a tax shelter.

I had no idea what he meant, though.

"I'm going to tie your hands, Justine."

I looked at him.

Was this some kind of game?

What did he think he was doing?

But before I was able to stop him, he was wrap ping that cord around my wrists… And tying me up that way!

I watched, fascinated.

I wasn't scared, or anything like that.

No…

To tell you the truth, I felt an incredible rush at being tied up.

It came and rose from my chest, through my neck and finally all over my face.

He was driving me crazy and that was the truth.

I couldn't believe it!

It was really… something!

When he finished, he looked at me.

"Now," he said, softly, "Justine, how do you feel…"

"I feel… good…"

He smiled and said nothing for the rest of the trip. I wasn't sure where we were, someplace in the suburbs, I think, because we'd gone over a bridge.

And then, I was being hustled out of the car by the chauffeur, who had a really sleazy smirk on his face, knowing that my hands were tied.

What did he know that I didn't?

Nothing I wouldn't find out soon, I was sure.

I could have done without him. Him and his roving hands on my bottom, which he tested amply as he helped me to the front door of what looked like a palatial estate.

Mr. Clifford was big bucks, I could tell that right away.

And that was just one more reason why those bonds felt so good on my hands!

He led me to a strange, dim room, behind the main room.

There were funny lights hanging from the ceiling, and the way they were turned on, I couldn't see beyond a very short perimeter.

The way it is for an actor when he's on stage and can't even see the faces in the first row.

It was all deliberate, I soon learned.

And thankfully so.

Because if I'd been able to see what else was in this room, I surely would have panicked!

But for the moment, I sat in my sexy black dress, with the slit up one side revealing the tip of my stockings and garter belt, and waited for Clifford to make the next move.

I didn't have to wait long. He handed me a drink.

It looked at first like just another whiskey sour.

"What's this?" I asked him. He smiled.

"Drink it," he said to me. I wasn't sure I wanted to.

I mean, I had no real reason not to. Even though my hands were tied, I could still move them in front of me.

I just felt a little uneasy, the slightest bit of apprehension starting to creep up in my stomach.

"I…"

"I said drink it."

He didn't sound menacing or anything like that. Just the slightest bit more forceful.

It was enough for me.

I didn't argue any further.

If he wanted me to drink the damn stuff, then I would.

I was going to show him I could please him.

No problem.

So I took the drink, and downed it.

Swiftly.

Too swiftly.

Perhaps if I'd taken more time, I might have realized that there was a slightly funny taste to the brew.

I didn't, until it was too late. And then, it was just that.

Too late.

My hands went to my head. "Ohhhh…"

"What's the matter…"

"I don't know… I feel dizzy…"

"Well… don't worry…"

"I… I…"

And then the world went black.

When I awoke, I was… well, let me see if I can describe this scene to you.

I was standing on my feet, stripped of my dress.

I had no idea how it had gotten off me.

Of course, I knew, but I didn't really want to know.

So I pretended it was a mystery.

My arms were suspended well above my head.

Hanging by ropes that were entwined around my wrists.

And that hurt!

Now, as I looked down, I saw my feet spread on the floor, attached to cuffs that were held in place by short, strong chains.

And the lighting was different.

It was all glowing and wonderful!

And showed me for the first time just what this room look like.

A dungeon!

That's where I was!

Locked inside of a dungeon, with a gorgeous hunk of a man who somehow got off on having me naked, in chains.

Well, not completely naked.

He did have the courtesy, or the good sense, or the what-have-you to leave my garter belt and stockings on.

That was a big turn-on, I could tell.

And my lovely high heels.

Mustn't forget those!

He had me completely decked out like that.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

Nothing!

I was embarrassed, to say the least.

My lovely, full tits, which I took pride in, and which I showed off only to men whom I deemed fortunate and deserving enough to see them, were glistening with my own sweat and standing at sweet attention.

Oh, he was a stickler for detail, and he knew that with my arms overhead, my tits would have to stand perkily at attention for him.

"Well," he said, grinning… "You look beautiful…"

I didn't say anything.

I had no idea what I could say!

I stared at him.

Now, he was out of his good-looking tailored suit, and wearing something else… a kind of leather jock strap, with studs around his balls and a leather shaft that seemed custom-designed to fit his cock.

In other words, his prick and balls were sheathed, outlined in leather.

And left nothing to the imagination.

He had some cock!

Enormous!

And he was wielding it with a mighty, macho swagger…

Every time he moved, his shaft swung a little… And I couldn't take my eyes off of it!

"What's the matter," he said to me, smiling.

"Don't you like the way it looks?"

"I…"

"Come on… tell me…"

"I like it," I said, blushing.

"Good…"

"Why am I… why did you…"

"Tie you up and hang you on your wrists? I figured I'd do something to you you'd never forget…"

"What… ohhh…"

He came up close to me, and put his handsome face near to mine.

And then he explained what the itinerary was.

"I'm going to whip you." That was it.

The whole kit and caboodle!

"What?"

"I said I'm going to whip you."

"No… please… don't…"

But my pleas fell on predictably deaf ears.

There was nothing I could say or do that was going to make any sort of difference with this man.

He had it in his mind that he wanted to use a whip on me.

On me!

I'd never so much as been held tightly by a man…

And now, I was in the clutches of one that was, to say the least, a little on the wacky side…

But, what can I say?

I don't want to mislead you.

It was turning me on!

It was getting to me!

And he knew it!

I guess that's why he continued to grin, even as he went to his wall and plucked off a short, nasty little black whip.

He brought it over to me and bent it slightly in front of my face.

"This is my punisher," he said, softly. "I use it on women when they need to be punished… when they need to be taught a lesson…"

"But… I haven't done anything…"

"You, missy, are a ball-breaker. I can see it all over your face. In the way you smile, in the clothes you wear. You tease men, and I don't like that. You have to be broken… and I'm going to be the one to break you…"

"Please… don't…"

"Oh, you can beg, all right… you can bet all you want, but it won't do you a bit of good… and I'll tell you something else… by the time I'm through with you, you'll be thanking me… and begging for more… and hopelessly in love with me…"

"Never…"

He grinned wider.

"We'll see… we'll see… are you ready to kiss the whip?"

"No way!"

He stepped back.

"We'll see… your first punishment will end only when you agree to kiss the whip… when you beg me for the chance to kiss it!"

He came up close to me.

"You see? Had you agreed just now, I would have suspended the punishment, for the want of a single kiss!"

I swallowed hard.

Was he serious?

What was with this guy?

I had no idea what was going on.

But I could definitely feel the first pangs of fear.

He was serious business, this one.

And meant to discipline me a little.

Hell, I was sure I could take whatever it was he thought he was going to give me.

Whatever…

I wasn't going to break.

No way…

I hoped…

He walked around to the back, where my naked ass was his for the gazing.

He put a hand on it and I gasped.

"Yes… you don't know, do you… you don't know just when it's coming."

He was right.

I didn't…