Control Pt2: Jessica’s Return

Part Two: Jessica’s Return

I thought about him the whole of that week.

What he had done.

What I had let him do. 

I’d never let any man treat me like that before. As the days passed, I switched between being awed by the control he had over me, and being ashamed that I had given in so easily. I scolded myself regularly, angry at my stupidity. He was a stranger, some random guy in a bookshop, and I had been powerless to stop him from fucking me. He hadn’t even used a condom, for Christ’s sake! I’d never thought of myself as a slut before, but what else do you call a woman who fucks men in shops while her boyfriend is just a few feet away?

But I also knew it was more than that. It wasn’t just some seedy encounter; I don’t know how he managed it, but that man had effortlessly entered my mind and taken complete control of it. By the time he had pressed that incredible cock into me I didn’t give a fuck who saw or heard us – the only thing that mattered in the world was him. And then, when I was on the verge of cumming over him, when after just a couple of hard thrusts I was about to empty my soul from my pussy, when I felt like I had found my actual fucking purpose in life… he had pulled out, whispered in my ear, and walked out of my world.

I don’t think I have ever felt emptier than in those few seconds after he left me.

When Mike wandered round the corner with his precious books I was still standing in the same position the man had left me in – bent over, holding onto the wooden chair, legs trembling, aware of the coolness on my pussy now that his heat had been removed. My dress had fallen back down to cover my ass, but even then I knew it was obvious what had just happened. I was panting, sweating, my skin flushed red. I was aware of Mike’s presence, but I didn’t care about him – right at that moment I was fighting the urge to shoulder past my boyfriend and go running after the man, begging for him not to leave me, to tell him that I would be and do whatever he wanted. 

“What… what just happened, Jessica?” Mike had asked, snapping my mind back into the reality of my situation. I straightened up and turned to face him.

Mike and I had been dating for almost two years. He was a nice man who treated me like a princess, always making sure I was okay, telling me he loved me a dozen times a day. He was a few years older than me, but not so old that anyone ever remarked on the age difference. I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t really know what he did for a living (he’d tried to explain it to me a few times, but it was so boring that I always tuned out before he finished) but I did know that he made a good amount of money from it. Money that he liked to spend on buying me things and taking me away for luxurious weekends in exotic places. And if he liked doing it, who was I to stop him?

In lots of ways he was the perfect man, but our sex life was the absolute worst. Every Sunday morning he would get up, shower, brush his teeth, then come back to bed and spend a few minutes lying on top of me, digging his little dick in and out of my pussy until he groaned, came, then asked if I was okay and told me he loved me. He called it ‘private time’. Like, that’s what he actually referred to it as. Still it was good deal. All the Gucci I could handle in exchange for letting him cum up me once a week. You’d need to be a fool to turn that down, no?

“What do you mean?” I’d asked him, still breathless.

“That man,” he’d said. “Who was he, and why were you standing like that? And why are you breathless?”

A trickle of juice was running down the inside of my thigh.

“Gee, I don’t know, Mike, but seeing this is a shop, I’m going to guess he was, you know, a shopper?”

“But why were you bending over like that? Heck, why are you sweating?”

There is only ever one way of dealing with guys like Mike, and that’s to go immediately on the attack, which is what I did.

“Are you accusing me of fucking him!?” I’d shouted. “Is that what you’re doing? Is that what you think of me? That I’d fuck some random guy in a shop? Jesus Christ, Mike! You really think I’m that cheap? That I’m some slut who fucks guys in shops!?”

Mike hates raised voices. And blasphemy. And profanity. He likes order, decency and respect. My shouting immediately made him change tack. I mean, it was obvious that I had been fucking the man, a fool would’ve known that, but Mike just didn’t want to accept the reality. So instead of telling me we were over, he started apologising, saying that of course that wasn’t what he thought, that he’d never think that about me, and I milked the situation by storming out of the shop, making him leave behind his books in his rush to chase after me.

I was back in control of him, exactly as I liked to be.

Anyway, enough about Mike. As I’ve already said I spent the week in turmoil, flitting between conflicting emotions and thoughts. One minute I was convinced I was going, the next I was equally convinced I wasn’t. By the time Friday rolled round I was sure that I wasn’t going back to the bookshop. My mind was set. I was worth more than dirty encounters with scary men in dirty, dusty shops. I had acted like a fool and could have easily lost my meal ticket boyfriend. Most importantly, I am not a slut.

The next day I was back sitting on that little wooden chair, waiting for him, my pussy covered in my favourite little red panties just as he had instructed.

I hated the shop. I liked smart, neat little boutiques where everything was spick, span and expensive. This place was the very opposite of that, with its covering of dust and cheap, horrible old books seemingly thrown at random into any available space. I had decided that as soon as he arrived I was going to tell him that if he wanted me, the only way that was happening was if we left the shop and went instead to an expensive hotel. If he didn’t agree to that I was going to leave straight away. 

I purposely arrived later than he had told me to, expecting to find him waiting for me. But apart from a young Japanese woman browsing the books (another reason nothing sexual was happening here today) the top floor room was empty. I was instantly annoyed but couldn’t bring myself to leave, so I took out a wipe, cleaned the chair as thoroughly as possible, and took a seat. 

Half an hour later he still hadn’t appeared. Men do not treat me this way. I don’t know why I stayed, but I did, and as I waited I was surprised to realise that I was getting wet. Something about the very act of waiting on him was already affecting me, whether I wanted it to or not. It was the anticipation of feeling the way I had the previous week; like a puppet completely under his control. The freedom I had felt in those all too brief few minutes was intoxicating; I didn’t have to think about anything, other than doing exactly what he told me to.

My hand slid up under my dress, and I began to stroke myself softly over the material of my panties, finding and following the contours of my pussy, closing my eyes to heighten the sensation. 

“He said you would wait.”

I pulled my hand away from between my legs, slamming them closed and opening my eyes as the voice startled me back to reality. Before me was the young Japanese woman I had noticed when I entered the room. She was standing with her hands on her hips, wearing black leather trousers, a crop-cut riding jacket, and knee-high black leather boots. Although I’ve never really been attracted to other women even I could appreciate her beauty. It took me a full ten seconds to regain my composure enough that I could speak.

“Who are you?” I asked, too shocked and ashamed to lace my words with any anger.

“Jun,” she replied with a little bow and a smile. “I am here to prepare you.”

I noticed that when she bowed she maintained eye contact with me, removing any submission from the act.

“Prepare me?”

She tutted. 

“Are you deaf as well as too much of a slut to keep your hands from your cunt?”

“I beg your fucking pardon!” I shouted, outraged by the sheer nerve of this bitch accusing me of being a slut. “Who the fuck do you think-”

She stepped forward and grabbed my throat in one hand, cutting the words off before I could finish my sentence. My head banged against the books on the shelf behind me. She felt surprisingly strong.

“I think, slut, that you are a dirty girl who is who here to do as she is told.” she whispered, leaning forward so that her lips brushed my ear as she spoke. She stepped back and released my throat. “Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he was wrong about what he thought he saw in you?”

The mention of him caused the heat to rise in my pussy again, matching the hotness on my skin where she had grabbed me. I suddenly realised that I would do almost anything to see him again. I shook my head.

“No. He wasn’t wrong.”

Jesus, what had happened to me? Was I really this pathetic?

She clapped her hands together. “Good, then we have wasted enough time. One more word from you and I leave. If I leave, he will never come. Do you understand?”

I opened my mouth to reply but quickly snapped it shut when I saw her frown. I nodded that I understood.

Jun unbuttoned her jacket and removed it, revealing a figure-hugging, sleeveless, bright red top underneath that looked as if it was made of rope. The muscles in her arms had exquisite definition. I couldn’t help noticing. Hanging her jacket from the corner of a shelf she turned again to face me. when she took hold of the bottom of her top I thought she was going to take it off too, but I was wrong. Rather than pulling the garment over her head, instead she began to unwrap herself.

The top hadn’t just looked as if it was made of rope – it was made of rope. 

I watched with fascination as she unwound a length of the fine, soft-looking cord from around her waist, each turn around her body revealing an inch of flesh. Just before her navel was uncovered, the rope fell away from her body. She was covered not with one continuous piece of cord, but rather several individual ones wrapped so perfectly that they appeared to be one piece.

“Open your legs,” she instructed.

I obeyed her.

She knelt in front of me and took a firm grip of my left leg. I watched as she positioned it against the chair leg and began to wrap the rope around it. She worked quickly but with precision, and in under a minute my leg was bound tightly to the cold, hard wood. 

When she was finished she stood again and began unwrapping more from around her body, this time revealing her perfect little navel. I could feel her looking at me the entire, but I couldn’t drag my eyes away from her slowly appearing figure.

Again the rope fell away as she reached the end of that piece. This time she tied my right leg to the chair. I felt a brief moment of panic as I became aware of how vulnerable I was and struggled very lightly against my bindings. She pushed her hand up my dress and pressed a finger hard against my clit over my underwear, as at the same time she pressed the index finger of her other hand against my lips. She held her hands where they were for an entire minute. I could feel my clit throbbing against her.

Jun held me like that until I stopped moving, then removed her hands and stood again. I could still feel her fingers on me, even though they no longer were. She looked at me as she lifted the finger that had been on my pussy to her face and smelled it, inhaling deeply. 

“Very pretty,” she said.

I had no response, but knew I was desperate to feel her hands on me again. Not wanting to admit to that urge, and knowing that speaking would mean he never came, I turned my head away from her, my cheeks burning.

When I eventually looked back, she had removed another piece of the cord, revealing a pair of perfect little breasts, nipples brown and beautiful. I was as envious of them as I was attracted to them.

“You like?” she asked, a slightly playful tone in her voice.

I nodded.

“You want to suck?”

I nodded faster. I wasn’t attracted to women, but there was something about this one that made me crave her.

“Maybe,” she said. “If you are a good girl.”

This time she leant over me, reaching behind me to tie my wrists together. As she did her perfect tits jiggled just an inch from my face. I couldn’t resist. I really tried to, but I couldn’t. I stuck my tongue out and flicked it against the tip of one of them. Jun responded by leaning closer in, allowing me to take her entire nipple into my mouth. I suckled on it gratefully. I almost cried when she stepped back and it was pulled from my mouth.

She slapped my face hard. I instinctively tried to lift my hand to where my cheek burned, but of course my hands were bound and I couldn’t.

“I said maybe,” she scolded me. “I decide when and if. Not you, slut.”

That word again. I hated how it caused my pussy to flood and my hole to leak into my knickers.

I was so fucking confused. Everything about this situation was messing with my mind. I was bound to a chair in the dirty top room of a dirty shop where anyone could have discovered me. I had allowed myself to be this way. The person who had done the tying up wasn’t the one I had arrived expecting to see. Fuck, she wasn’t even the same sex as him. And, despite not being him, I was still so fucking desperately attracted to her. She had hit me, slapped me, and called me a slut more than once.

My mind was being deliberately fucked with, and I fucking loved it.

She unwound the last of the rope from her body and stood before me fully topless. Jun was breathtakingly perfect.

I really wasn’t expecting it (I wasn’t expecting anything that had happened that day) when she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her leather trousers and pulled outwards. As they split down the inside and outside seam I realised they were joined together by a thin Velcro strip that allowed them to be removed quickly and easily. I one motion she was standing in just her knee-high boots.

My eyes drank her in. Her flawless skin, her slightly muscular thighs, and her incredible, smooth, closed-up slit of a cunt. My pussy drooled for her.

She straddled me, tying the last piece of rope around my neck, her pussy in front of my face. I openly smelled her, taking big lungfuls of her scent in through my nose. Despite knowing I would be punished for it, I tried to lick her, but she kept herself just out of my reach, pulling hard on the cord she was tying around my neck if I got too close.

She lifted one foot and placed it on my thigh. I heard the soft ‘pop’ as the motion caused her pussy lips to part. It also revealed her clit. I wanted to tongue it. I wanted to suck it into my mouth and taste it. I wanted to spend hours licking and sucking and doing whatever it took to make this woman cum in my mouth. But she continued to keep it just too far away for me to get the slightest taste.

“A thirsty little bitch, aren’t you?” she asked.

I nodded, tried to get closer to her.

“Maybe I’ll give you a little taste.” Her hand stroked the top of my head. “Maybe you deserve it.”

I knew not to speak, but I groaned in desire. Her hands appeared suddenly, one on each side of her pussy. I watched as she pulled and spread her lips, revealing the soft folds within and increasing the intensity of her scent. I was also pleased to see that her flesh glistened with wetness. When she let go and her pussy closed up again I thought she was just teasing me again, but I was wrong.

She pressed down with the foot that was resting on my thigh and lifted herself up until she was standing on both of my thighs. The pain was so much that I squealed a little. She stayed in that pose for a few seconds, deliberately pressing her heels into my legs. I tilted my head back and looked up at her. She smiled at me, then suddenly she squatted down so that her pussy was fully on my mouth. I greedily and clumsily lapped at it, sucking and licking her clit, finding her hole and pushing my tongue into it. She was grinding herself hard against my face, squashing my nose flat with her cunt, smearing me with her juices, making a mess of my perfect makeup.

“Lick my cunt, slut. Eat my hole you dirty little whore.”

Jun face fucked me, using my features to pleasure herself. 

It didn’t last anywhere near as long as I wanted it to. 

She stood up on my thighs again before stepping off of me.

“Please,” I begged. I couldn’t help it. 

I expected and deserved the vicious slap that landed on my cheek. I didn’t expect the two that followed, but I accepted my punishment.

“He said you would be uppity,” she said. “Said that you struggled to accept your place. I can see that he was right.”

I had almost forgotten about the man in my lust for the woman. Who were these two people who could take control of me so effortlessly? And where was he? The binding must have taken at least half an hour, and yet there was still no sign of him.

“One last thing,” Jun said. 

I watched as she reached down the back of her boot and pulled out a small, pearl-handled knife.

Instant panic rushed through my body. I struggled against the ropes but they were tied too well and didn’t give me as much as an inch of movement. 

“No!” I shouted as she stepped forwards with the blade in her left hand. “Don’t!”

She placed the cold metal of the knife against my face and traced it slowly down my cheek.

“Don’t!” I shouted. “Please don’t!”

She ran the blade down my skin, over my neck and down to my shoulder. I heard a soft noise, felt a little tugging pressure as she sliced through the straps of my dress. I wasn’t wearing a bra and the cold air of the room hit my breasts, my nipples hardening.

She squatted in front of me, running the knife up and down the insides of my thighs.

“Be perfectly still,” she said. “This part is more delicate, and I would hate to cut you by mistake.”

She winked at me then lifted my dress until my panties were revealed.

“My, my. Aren’t we a wet little girl?”

I felt her fingers push into my underwear from the side and then slip right inside my hole. I gasped. She pulled her fingers out of me and sucked them clean. The knife in her other hand was still touching my thigh.

“Pefectly still,” Jun repeated, hooking her fingers back into my panties and pulling the crotch of them away from my pussy.

I held my breath as she lifted the knife and pressed the tip of it against the material. I watched as the sharp blade cut through the material, making a slit that matched the direction of mine.

She let go of them, and I jumped as my panties slipped back into place. I felt her press either side of my pussy but couldn’t see what she was doing. When she was eventually happy she moved her head out of the way and I saw my pussy lips now protruding through the material of my knickers. 

She stepped back, taking me in fully. I had taken so much time getting myself ready to meet the man, but now I knew I was a mess. I was tied to the chair, my legs obscenely open, my makeup smeared over my face, my dress ripped, my tits hanging out, and my knickers cut so that they revealed my pussy.

But Jun seemed pleased with her work, and nodded in satisfaction.

“Much better,” she said. “Little princess transformed into little slut.”

She picked the two halves of her trousers off the floor, took her jacket from where it had been hanging, slung it over her shoulder and walked away without saying another word to me.

As she left, I heard the sound of footsteps entering the room.

“She’s ready for you, Sir,” I heard Jun say from behind the rows of shelves.

My heart raced as the footsteps got closer, and closer, and closer.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/r9lru8/control_pt2_jessicas_return