Paganini's Tale,


 Chapter 1



    The following is the beginning of a story I wrote long ago (on
a little green-screened KayPro 4--<that> long ago), as an exercise
to see if I could make a living writing pornography. I wrote as
fast as I could, trying not to stop at all. I kept track of my
hours, the number of K per hour, etc. In the end I decided that
while I loved it, it wouldn't pay the rent.
  It was early on in my & my SO's dominance and bondage period
(which, if you must know, shows no signs of abating); the novel
consequently has a lot of B&D and "kink" in it. It does start off
slowly, however. This first section isn't as rock 'em sock 'em as
a lot I've been reading here on asb, or as wild as latter chapters
are. But if I'm going to put all this out there, as I plan to do,
I might as well start at the beginning.
  And besides, I'm uncloaking. I've been around for a awhile,
reading & downloading & printing out discussions & fiction to take
home, so my Violin can read, too. (For the purposes of the wizvax
and asb, I'll take Paganini as my name.) Violin and I are
unfortunately far, far too busy to do a lot of netnews-time,
either reading <or> posting, but we hope to say howdy every so
often--we have plenty of opinions.
  There's around 20 chapters all told. There's no title for this
sort of thing that isn't cliched, so I'll just call this Paganini's
Tale.

Alice was already tired of it all, and she wasn't even drunk yet.
Not that she drank all that much; she only drank when she was out,
partying, or in, waiting for Larry to come home tired, irritable,
and whiny. These damn office parties were all the same: mindless
in-fighting, silly gossip, each one trying to impress the rest
with their corporate loyalty. Larry leaned on the door jamb across
the room, talking with some other man with his tie loosened just
enough to be pretend-daring. As if his tie was a bit of armor.
   She decided that listening to the ninny beside her telling
about her beautician wasn't interesting enough to make any
difference, and so without apology she rose from the couch to get
another gin and tonic from the kitchen. <It's always the same,>
she thought, <never anything exciting, never anyone interesting.>
Her mind felt as unsteady as her feet.
   With a slight weave to her step she meandered to the kitchen,
glass in hand. Past the woman in a paisley blouse laughing so
loudly it seemed frightening. Past the stoop-shouldered accountant
smiling nervously at the man telling him about this season's
Colts.  Past the thin-chinned youngster telling how he thought his
boss was great.  Alice had no use for any of them, and wished
Larry would get done with his bootlicking so they could get away.
Most of all she wished they had come in separate cars so she could
go home now.
   The ice was nearly out. She placed the last few cubes in her
tall glass, then tossed in a shot of gin. She thought a moment,
then with a shrug of disgust tosssed another two gurgles atop the
ice.
   "That bad, eh? I understand. Toss some my way."
   The voice was warm, strong, and when she turned to see his
face, she saw a sturdy jaw, toughened skin, and grinwrinkles
around bright eyes. No great beauty, but a certain strength...
something in her understood.
   "Put two gurgles in my glass, and then follow me without being
noticed."
   She stared up at him, wordless, confused. "Two gurgles," she
repeated.
   "Two." He pushed his tall tumbler at her.
   She turned the gin bottle upside down over his glass. Two
gurgles it was, and then he turned from her almost before she
righted the bottle.
   She watched his back as he walked into the living room, toward
the stairs. Strong muscls stretched beneath the light cotton
shirt. He was someone who worked, it was clear. His command
intrigued her, sent gentle tingles from the back of her skull down
her back to pocket between her legs. She looked down at her glass.
   What he wanted was clear. She was married, and had been for
four years, to Larry, who now was chortling merrily at someone
else's joke. She swirled the ice in the glass, watched the ripples
in the liquor for a moment, then half-shrugged and meandered
unsteadily toward the doorway to the living room, past which was
the stairs the man had taken.
   His words replayed in her mind: <follow me without being
noticed.> Larry was still talking; he hardly noticed her go by,
but she noticed him: thin lips, sallow face, thin arms. A clerk's
body. Her own body tingled, but not toward him: toward the stairs.
Her cunt made her mind up, and she let it. <Lead on,> she smiled
to herself, <let's have an adventure>.
   As if deciding to find a bathroom, she ascended the stairway.
Her body waited: nipples prickled and became hard beneath her
constricting brassiere. She wanted it off, so her nipples could be
free. Her pants were confining, and she wanted a cock inside her.
   The hallway was dark in the old house. Rooms came off the
landing, and around the corner toward the one lit room on the
floor: the bathroom.
   Alice stopped, heart thudding. In one of these rooms a man
awaited her. Somewhere up here was that shaft she wanted between
her legs.
   Putting one foot in front of her, she made sure her walk
sounded on the wood floor. A door opened on her left, opening into
darkness. She hesitated a brief instant more, then started in.
   A hand snaked out of the darkness and grabbed her hand, pulling
her in. Below, she could hear the party sounds of empty laugher,
light music. the clink of glasses. In here, in this room, the only
important sound was his deep, gutteral breath.
   "For the next twenty minutes you're mine. If that's not what
you want, leave now."
   Alice felt something twist inside her, and then break open,
letting loose a gush like warm honey between her legs. She didn't
even think. She sensed where his face was and pressed her mouth
against his.
   His hands came up under her blouse, forcing their way almost
painfully under her brassiere. Jolts of energy flashed from her
nipples inside her when he squeezed. His kiss was deep, fully
tongued, and she sucked on that tongue like she could pull him
through it. She wanted more of him, and she tried to get her hands
between them to unbutton his shirt.
   He broke away from the kiss. "I said you were mine." He gave
her nipples sharp, biting pinches, then broke away entirely. She
stood in the darkness broken only by the curtained window's
reflected streetlight, her body rocking from the sudden lack of
stimulation.
   "Take off your blouse, and pull your pants down to your knees."
   Stifling her words, she began to unbutton her blouse. She could
see him silhouetted against the faint light. He stood motionless.
She kept facing him when, with a whispered whimper, she pulled
down her pants, leaving her boots on. Her ankles felt bound.
   He took a fingerfull of pubic hair, using that to pull her
toward him. With his other hand, he snatched up a fistfull of
mane, pulling her face to his. Again the tonguing. But this time
he had a hand on her cunt, just resting on her lips. She arched
her back, trying to push her pubis onto his hand, but he pulled
back just enough to keep contact without a finger sinking in. He
broke away from the kiss.
   "You want it, don't you?"
   She groaned in response, but that wasn't enough for him. "Say
it out loud," he ordered.
   "Oh, God, yes, I want it," she managed to say.
    She was astounded at how she was responding. Without
embarassment, she was following his order. With Larry, she would
have laughed. but this man was so certain. He knew what he was
doing, and she loved it, and wanted him to continue.
   "Yes," she gasped, "something, anything."
   One finger sank between her vaginal lips, into the deep heat of
her cunt. She moaned.
   As if he were telling a neighbor about some weeds he'd have to
pull, he said, "Make any more noise and I'll have to gag you."
   Another finger slipped in. She tried to stifle her moan, using
his tongue as a gag. She wanted to pull him to her, but somehow
she knew he didn't want that; her hands hung in the air, lowering
slowly as if she could take his prick as soon as it showed itself.
   "Pull my cock out," he said. "And then I want you to suck it. I
want to feel your tongue sliding down that long muscle. I want to
feel your nose in my hair. I want you to take it deep."
   She reached for his fly and quickly unzipped it, while working
at his belt with her other hand. <God I want this cock now>, she
thought, <and I shouldn't.> Nobody had ever talked that way to
her. <Take it deep,> she said to herself, knowing she had never
taken any cock as deep as she could.
   His underwear was frustratingly in the way. Pulling the elastic
band down deep, her hand felt the huge mass of cock jutting out
from this man's crotch. She felt its thickness, its heat, and
moaned again.
   She nearly lunged at its purple head, faintly shining in the
dim light. It felt like a heated plum in her mouth, filling her
from tongue to palate. Her hands were busy unfastening his belt.
She wanted his cock free, his hair in front of her. She thought
she could take him deep; he was thick, massively thick, but not
particularly long. Her lips were stretched.
   Finally she had his pants loose, and she pulled underwear and
pants down, pulling his cock toward her as she did. Suprising them
both, her nose was instantly nestled in his dark pubic hair. She
breathed in through her nose, nearly gagging, then pulling back.
It had felt wonderful to feel him so deep inside. She lapped at
the cock's thick trunk, down to his balls, then up, swirling about
its head, feeling the wrinkles on its ridge, tickling the eye on
the end. Then she pulled him into her again.
   He grabbed her hair and pulled her back. Her head was immobile,
straining forward, mouth open, tongue resting on her lower lip.
   "Once more, and then you lean over," he told her, then pulled
her head onto his cock, slowly, easing it, sliding it past her
lips to her palate past her uvula and finally back, pushing back
at the corner of her throat.
   Again he pulled her back. "Now stand up and lean over."
   She did as he said, placing her hands on the chair in front of
the dresser. The mirror atop the dresser was nearly as tall as
she; his reflection faced her, watching her. His cock stood out
straight, white and purple, barely illuminated, as as her rump,
the side of her curved waist and the outside roundness of her
breast.
   Her blond hair hung around her head like a halo, but she felt
nothing angelic. What she was feeling was primal. Her blue eyes
were wide, her breath was ragged. Behind her she could see the
dark hair on his broad chest, the assured smile on his face.
   She felt his hand touching the round globes of her buttocks.
His fingers dipped between her legs, and she felt his index finger
parting the soft inner lips of her labia. Exploring the rubbery
ridges of her excited tissues, swirling deeper and deeper. She
groaned, then  cut it off. <I don't want to be gagged>, she
thought. <...or do I?>
   She could feel fingers plunging into her cunt. Pushing against
her cervix, pushing down on the top of her moist walls. A third
finger pushed in; was it his thumb? She watched him in the mirror,
his broad cock bobbing with his arm's motions.
   His thumb pulled out of her juicy cunt and began circling the
rim of her anus. Her sphincter tightened automatically; she'd
never had anyone <there>. His thumb increased its pressure
slightly, while his other two fingers pushed into her twat and his
ring finger punched at her clitoris. She grunted in whispers,
fighting to hold back her voice. This was scream-out-loud in the
empty woods sex. She wanted to holler out, but she knew she
couldn't.
   Round and round his thumb went, gradually massaging her asshole
into relaxing. The tip of his thumb dipped in slightly, moistened
with cunt juice. Dipped in a little deeper, while his fingers
played Chopin with her G-spot. Her body was shuddering now, her
thighs clamped and opened involuntarily.
   Her ass was loose enough now, and so he increased the speed of
his fingerfucking slightly. She bit her hand to keep from
screaming, pushing back against his plunging hand. Suddenly he
shoved his thumb deep into her ass in one plunge, and an
earth-wrought groan came rumbling from Alice's throat.
   Her body jerked tight. <God I can't believe this is happening,>
she thought as the waves of pleasure washed off the words like
sandscript on the beach. <Crash> went the waves, and she lost
control completely. Her body shuddered uncontrollably, and her
knees sagged; he held her up by his handhold. Her legs, her arms,
her back jerked like a marionnette, and she felt her brain melt
down like wax upon a flame. <Did I scream?> she wondered, for she
could remember the shrill, gutteral wrenching her mind had
experienced.
   His hand was still in her, but motionless.
   "Did I scream?" she asked, breathlessly.
   "No. You did very well." With his free hand he patted her
bottom. Then he moved behind her. "I will now fuck you and come.
When I come, I will tell you that you are mine." He pulled his two
fingers out, but left his thumb in her ass.
   With his left hand he guided his thick bludgeon of a cock
toward her cuntal lips. He could see the faint glisten of juices
on them. Her gasps filled the room. Slowly, he pushed the head
until it was nestled within the folds of her vagina. Then he spit
into his hand and moistened the shaft. Gradually the rest of his
prick pushed into her. Her breathing was more ragged now.
   He pulled back, then pushed in faster. The next was a thrust,
and the fourth a deepscream sexual punch. A clacking, delirious
sound came from Alice's throat; she had lost all control of her
senses. Each time he slammed into her, the abyss down which she'd
fall got higher, and deeper.
   She realized her breath was hot in her ear. "Now you are mine,"
he whispered. "In seven days you will be completely mine, body and
spirit." In between phrases, he jammed his cock deeply into her
cunt. "You've never felt anything like this before, have you?"
Again a deep, deep fuck.
   Alice shook her blonde head. "No," she gasped, "No, never,
nothing..."
   "There's so much more for you to learn," he said quietly,
pulling his cock out till just the tip remained in contact, then
with a twist of his hips nearly spiraled his penis into her. "In
seven days you will know. You must only do precisely what I say,
without questions. You are mine, and for the next week you will
learn just what that means. Now I will come inside you."
   He reared back and then grabbed her hair. He pushed his thumb
deeper into her bottom, taking hold of her from both ends, and
ramming her down onto his thick cock. She was wide open. In his
cock went, and out, increasing his speed with every stroke, going
in deep and wide, making her cunt a throat widening in a joyous
scream, and then his voice in her ear, and deep whisper, <Aaaah,
here it comes, you are mine now, yes, you are mine,> and Alice
reached the top of the growing abyss, and toppled over, falling,
pushed by powerful winds, buffetted and swirled by rain and
clouds, and it was a long time before she hit bottom.
   He had pulled her pants up, and pulled down her blouse. Her
face was inches from hers, lying on the floor.
   "You must tell me your name."
   She tried to get her bearings. "Alice," she said, not
succeeding. "Alice Parkinson."
   "Do you work?"
   'Part time. Mornings."
   "Husband work?"
   "Yes." She felt she could hold nothing back.
   "Home phone number."She told it to him. "Address." She told it
to him. "Work phone." She told it to him.
   "I will now go downstairs. It's been fifteen minutes. You may
descend in four minutes, looking fresh."
   With that he stood, walked to the door, listened for a moment,
then slipped out into the hall.
   Alice caught her breath. Nothing like this was within her
experience. Never would she have thought she would be thrilled to
be fucked by a stranger, much less completely controlled by a
stranger. But she trusted him. He was too skillful, too aware to
not know what he was doing. Never once had he hurt her more than
she wanted. A few times she had been surprised she wanted it, but
the point remained.
   She laughed, and adjusted her bra. Off to the left was the
master bedroom's bath; she touched up her makeup and got herself
arranged. The party suddenly wasn't a boring affair after all.
Something was happening. She didn't know what it would be, but she
knew her life was to be changed.