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Date: Wed, 27 Jan 1999 12:20:37 PST
From: Vigilant One <vigilant2@hotmail.com>
Subject: AMANDA FRASER {Vigilant} (BM-reluc F^F real cd) [1!1]
AMANDA FRASER
By 'Vigilant'
BM-reluc F^F real B-cd rubber
Usual disclaimers apply. This is purely adult fantasy
and in no way an exhortation to action, other than wanking
while you read it. That is allowed, indeed encouraged. Best
wanked with a 3.0 version cock or later, set to 1100x200 or
thereabouts - alternatively, a 5mm clit if you are not a PC user.
Please send feedback to vigilant2@hotmail.com
--------------------------------
I am 18 now but still my weirdest and most intense sexual experience was
the one I had when I was 14. My parents are pretty well-off and we were
living in this expensive apartment block in London, just off the river. I
suppose I was at what they call an 'awkward age'. Despite going to the
right school, having two ski-ing holidays a year and a whole stack of neat
hi-fi equipment in my bedroom, I was bored. Bored and ungrateful. I thought
my parents were parasites on the backside of society. I used to stay out
all night with my friends just to get them wound up. It was when I was also
14 that I started breaking into houses.
I was a slim build which helped, and some of my less 'affluent' friends
from south of the river taught me what they knew. Naturally, I thought it
would be funniest to burgle people my parents knew, so I started on the
other apartments in our block. My first 'conquest' was the Wilsons
upstairs. God, it felt fine to trash their poncy collection of so-called
modern art! Then I did Mr and Mrs Battistuta downstairs. While I was
looking for her jewellery, I came across her underwear drawer. Mrs B. is
the archetypal 'trophy wife'. She is about 30 years younger than her
husband, South American and a total honey. Well, she was obviously intent
on giving Mr B. his heart attack as quick as she could, because she had
some very slinky numbers in there! Stockings by the dozen, suspender belts,
silk camisoles, French knickers, teddies, lacy stuff and even some
rubber-wear. At that age, I was like a kid in a candy store. I just got
hornier and hornier looking through it. So horny that I forgot all about
the jewellery. I wondered if she had been wearing stockings on her fine
shapely legs those times we had passed on the stairs, and whether the silk
I was holding had caressed her soft breasts... Eventually it was time for
me to get going, so I just wrapped one of her silk stockings around my
erection and left empty-handed. Back in my room I whacked off with the
stocking between my right hand and my dick until I spurted, and cum
dribbled down over it.
This experience got me thinking about Miss Fraser three floors above. She
lived on her own and was (as far as I knew) the pampered daughter of an
old-money family - a 'Sloane Ranger' if ever there was one. She was a real
looker though, and was playing at being a model two days a week for some
fashion agency. She had the sweetest of cute faces, with dark sexy eyes
that you'd do anything for, high cheekbones, and edible lips. Her face was
framed by long silky black hair. She also had a huge pair of tits for such
a slim girl - I could never see her without imaging myself sucking on
them. I *had* to do her flat next. While I was waiting impatiently for a
safe opportunity, I had the good luck to be in the lift with her one
evening after school. She was looking hot as ever in a designer two-piece,
with a very short skirt. I tried not to obviously stare at the point where
her tight-clad thighs disappeared under the hem. Or at her full bust
filling out the jacket. I asked her if she had plans for the weekend - like
I was just making conversation. Bingo! She drawled that she was going to a
few Mayfair clubs on Saturday because it was "Antonia's 21st ya' know."
'Brainless but gorgeous,' I thought, as I put my hand in my pocket to
re-arrange my hard-on so it didn't stick out so damn obviously.
Well, Saturday evening eventually came round and I did my usual
tricks. Once in, I headed straight for her bedroom and tipped out her
drawers until I found the one containing her underwear. Silk slips,
knickers, big lacy bras, yes! - stockings! Black hold-ups. I ran them
slowly over my face, breathing in the smell of her. Then I spotted
something else in the bottom of the drawer. It was black and shiny. A
dildo! My heart rate went into overdrive. I pulled it out and found there
were straps attached to the 'balls' end. I didn't get it at first. But
turning it round and placing it over my own erection, I worked it out. The
way the straps were made left no other options. The thought that Amanda
Fraser fucked girls almost stopped me breathing. I lay down on her bed with
the strap-on in my hands, put a pillow under my crotch and humped it until
I had to stop or else make a mess in my trousers. 'Dirty bitch!' I
thought. Then I had the inspiration of writing a note and leaving it behind
for her. I found paper and pen, and wrote in capitals:
YOU ARE A DIRTY LITTLE LEZZIE SLUT AREN'T YOU? DO YOU LIKE TO GO ON TOP
WHEN YOU FUCK GIRLS OR TAKE THEM FROM BEHIND? AND YOU FROM SUCH A GOOD
FAMILY TOO... SIGNED - THE BURGLARS
I thought that was pretty cool and the thought of her reading it turned me
on a lot. I left it on the floor so she could see it when she walked in,
with the dildo underneath.
Then I started looking round at what else she had. I opened her built-in
wardrobe and ran my hand over her pinstripe skirts. I stuck my hand up her
short summer dresses, pretending her arse was where my fingers were. I
suppose the discovery of the strap-on must have got me into a kinky frame
of mind, because I took one of the dresses out and held it against myself
in front of her mirror - pretending I was her, or one of her fucks. At that
time I had my blond hair down to my shoulders - to annoy my parents of
course - and the reflection staring back at me did look sort of
feminine. Suddenly I had an impulse to do something extreme. I stripped of
my clothes, and hunted around for a pair of black high heels. I squeezed
them on and then slipped the dress over my head. I stuffed underwear down
the front to give myself a bust, and went back to the full-length
mirror. Hey! Not bad. My reflection was actually turning me on! I felt my
cock through the cotton, as I looked at the 'girl's' arse in the mirror.
Excitedly, I wondered how I would look in an evening dress, so I opened
another wardrobe to look for one.
Instead I found myself looking at a sea of black rubber and latex. 'What
the...!' I thought, and took one of the hangers out. It held a rubber
mini-dress. A pair of rubber stockings were draped over the neckline, and a
rubber hood hung from the hook. 'Jesus...'
The lights flicked on. I spun round to see Amanda leaning against the
doorway, looking curiously at me. She was wearing a little strappy dress
similar to the one I had on. She looked fantastic. I was frozen with
embarrassment.
She walked coolly in, picked up my note and read it. She arched an eyebrow
at me. "Nice dress," she said, "And you from such a good family..." Her
voice seemed to have lost most of its upper-class drawl. It was just
precise and mocking. I felt my cheeks redden. She stepped slowly over to
me, noting the mess I had made of her room. "It's Rupert from downstairs
isn't it?" she said, looking me in the face with those gorgeous deep, brown
eyes. I was too choked to answer. She slowly smoothed my hair back over my
ear, while her eyes looked past me to the open wardrobe. I was paralysed
with shame. Switching her attention back to my face, she spoke bitingly,
"I don't think I left the door unlocked! Now shall I have to tell your
parents about all this? Breaking into my flat and wearing my dresses? That
would be awfully embarrassing for you wouldn't it? Of course, it's no less
than you deserve..." I could see anger flashing in her eyes. I had to stop
her from doing that.
"Please... no," I croaked, before drying up.
I could feel her exhale slowly as she contemplated my fate. Then a hand
flashed out, and I found myself doubled-up in a half-Nelson. She was
pushing my right arm viciously up between my shoulder blades, and I cried
out in pain. Heedless, she marched me across the room , through the lounge
and into the hall. There, she opened a walk-in cupboard and pushed me
in. Before I was shoved to the back wall I saw something like handcuffs
dangling from the ceiling. She snapped them round my wrists so I was stuck
bent over. Then she disappeared briefly. When she returned she stuffed a
wadge of silky material into my mouth and then tied a gag around my head to
keep it in place. "You can stay there until I think how to punish you," she
said and locked the door, leaving me in darkness.
I hung there for hours. I was confused and scared but relieved too that she
hadn't just shopped me to my folks. Still, who could say she wasn't going
to later...? She was obviously not the simple 'Ya' I had taken her for. In
fact she was far sexier like this.... I started wishing I really was a girl
so she could use the strap-on on me. Like I say, it was all pretty
confusing for a 14 year old. At last, I heard the bell ring, and people
come into the flat past me. Then, maybe an hour later, the door was opened.
A girl about Amanda's age was standing there. She was pretty too and was
wearing what was the weirdest outfit I had ever seen. Her dress was made of
clinging transparent rubber so that I could clearly see her flattened
breasts and nipples. Further down, near the hem, I could make out her
shaven slit. Her legs were encased in similarly transparent rubber
stockings and she wore clear plastic high heels on her feet. She was the
first girl I had seen 'naked' (outside a porno mag) since I was about five.
"Hello, pretty boy," she said to me in a sloany type of voice. I guessed
she was one of Amanda's friends. Then she uncuffed me and removed my
gag. My jaw ached badly. She saw my new erection and touched it through my
dress. Then she turned, bent over a little and placed one of my hands on
the taught rubber covering her backside. "Like it? Well tough!" she
laughed, "You couldn't afford me!" She fixed a collar and lead round my
neck, and led me into the bathroom.
There she made me do a shit and clean myself up on the B-day. She took a
bottle of Amanda's body lotion and worked it onto and into my arse. Her
finger up me produced an instant erection. I seriously wondered if I was
gay. Trying on dresses, and now this. More confusion! When I was done I was
trembling in anticipation. I went to an all-boys public school and had
certainly heard of buggery, even if I had never had any desire to practise
it.
Finally, she led me into the lounge. It looked quite different. The
silver-metallic curtains were drawn and the room was lit only by spotlights
and the ultra-violet tube from a large fishtank. Repetitive techno was
thumping on the stereo. The first thing I saw though was Amanda. She looked
unbelievably lovely - more than model-perfect. She was fully made up,
wearing jewellery, with a black plastic top and mini-skirt. She was sitting
goddess-like at the far end of the room. As I came nearer, I saw that her
'chair' was in fact another girl, naked on all fours, with a seat strapped
to her back. A dildo was sticking out of her arsehole in front of
Amanda. Her cunt was pointing right at me and glistening slightly.
As she spoke, Amanda gently nudged the dildo absent-mindedly. "My, my, you
-- if it wasn't for that bulge of course." She gestured at my stiffie. "I
might let you keep the dress, you look so pretty in it." Then she asked me
to turn round so she could get a good look at me. While I was doing so, she
stood up and unzipped her skirt at the side. She was wearing no panties and
was completely hairless. I could feel pre-cum sticking the front of the
dress to my knob. I wondered if it was showing through. "I've thought of a
punishment, you will be glad to know, that will give me a lot of
pleasure. Whether you enjoy it or not is irrelevant of course. If you
choose to accept it I shan't tell your parents what a 'naughty boy' you've
been! Oh, and don't think of trying the same angle on me, beautiful. Who on
earth would ever believe you? An adolescent with your reputation for
honesty!" She laughed heartlessly at me.
"Now, darling Rupert, turn around and pick one." I turned around to see
three young naked men by the door. All were muscular, well built guys, and
had large erections. "Go on," prompted Amanda, "Choose which one will have
the pleasure of fucking you!"
What a choice! I thought of saying no. But the private humiliation seemed
preferable to the public humiliation in front of my parents. I could never
live it down if Amanda told them I had been wearing dresses! I looked to
see which one had the smallest cock. But he was quite ugly. I was angry at
myself for caring. 'You're not supposed to enjoy getting fucked up the
arse,' I thought. 'It doesn't bloody matter, you little queer!' But even
so, when my shaking hand pointed at one, it was the one I found most
arousing. He stepped forward.
"Good!" said Amanda, "Now face me and get on your hands and knees." The
girl holding my lead dragged me down into the position; then she passed the
lead to Amanda. Amanda began to frig herself as she nodded to the man
behind me to start.
I felt his hands run the length of my body, feeling me through the material
of the dress. His hands felt large and warm. He stroked my long blond
hair. I felt like a wanton tart. 'Get on with it!' I thought. The sooner
it was done the better. I looked up at Amanda's lovely hypocritical
face. At least I would be looking at something sexy when he shoved inside
me. Amanda looked back at me with dispassionate interest in her raven
eyes. Then he flicked up my skirt.
He inserted a finger. Ah! And then another. My right hand snaked back to
wank myself. Then his big head was pushing - stretching -- and finally my
slut arsehole let him in. He stroked slowly in and out, in and out, getting
deeper each time. My ring hurt with every movement. I bit my lip. God, it
felt big! But as he worked deeper, his tip nudged something inside me, and
it started to feel good. Every time he thrust he did it again and again. It
felt very good! The pain around my hole receded into the
background. Suddenly I badly wanted to come, but couldn't. I wanked myself
crazily to maximise the pleasure. Oh yeah! Fuck! I clawed at my balls. My
head dropped and I moaned involuntarily. Couldn't he go any faster? I no
longer cared where I was, what I was doing or who was watching. Just so
long as the feeling kept building.
Then he began to stroke more rapidly, with his hands firmly round my waist,
and I, I am ashamed to say, pushed back eagerly against his big tool that
was working so well inside me. I circled my hips to keep him hitting the
spot. When I looked up again, there was Amanda on the carpet, right in
front of me. She was leaning forward on her knees, and her top was unzipped
so that her large breasts were swinging free against her arms. My lead was
still clutched in her right hand. Her beautiful face was watching mine
closely. Clearly aroused, her lip was curled as she got off on the mix of
pain and pleasure on my face. Looking between her legs, I saw the girl in
clear rubber lying on the floor, eating her out. Amanda was grinding
herself in small circles into her face.
The sight was all I needed to knock me way over the edge. The man behind me
groaned as my ring contracted around his shaft; and I sprayed shot after
shot of white cum onto the expensive carpet. Amanda saw it and almost
imperceptibly licked her lush red lips. I was amazed to find myself still
just as horny afterwards, and two minutes later I spattered spunk onto the
carpet again, though on a smaller scale.
Amanda stayed there, inches from my face until it was over. With my left
hand holding me up and my right beating my meat, I could only look. Nor did
she ever make a move to touch me. She just knelt there in front of me as
her own orgasm contorted her pretty face and her lips mouthed silent
obscenities.
Eventually, while cum splashed yet again from my overworked dick, he came
deep within my folds, firing my insides. Exhausted, he withdrew from me
easily, and his spunk slowly oozed out, down my balls, to join mine on the
floor.
Postscript: Amanda, for her part, kept the bargain and never said a word
against me to my parents. However, neither did she ever let me join in her
sex games again, although I often asked when we were alone in the lift
together. Now, 4 years on, she is married to a merchant banker and living a
respectable life in a market town in the Home Counties. As she said, nobody
would believe me if I told them - but at least I still have a little
strappy dress to remind me it really did happen.
Please send feedback to vigilant2@hotmail.com