Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Joey Potter Self Bondage 2

by Sir Stephen

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© Copyright 2001 - Sir Stephen - Used by permission

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Part 2: Joey Potter Self Bondage: Whatever Jen Wants

Jen had had no date this Friday night because she had worked at the restaurant until late.  After closing, Jen had simply gone home, undressed (to a short white slip) and checked her email.  She was astonished to find her inbox full - after all, it had been emptied this morning!

Even more surprising were its contents.  All the emails were from Joey Potter, someone she had never received email from before.  And they all had attachments, some of which were huge!

Jen opened the first of the emails and noticed its huge distribution list.  She right-clicked its jpg attachment and opened it in a new window.  Astonished was too weak a word to describe Jen's feelings as she saw, line by line, a picture of Joey Potter in what appeared to be self-bondage, in her own living room!  Having had some bad blood with Joey in the past, Jen couldn't help but break into a grin as the picture reached ½ complete, showing Joey Potter with her wrists chained to a collar, and what looked like a very complex apparatus of self-torture devices arrayed about her.  Noticing the time on the email, Jen realized that Joey might still be in this position.  A few minutes ago, Jen had been ready to masturbate herself to sleep.  Now. The Potter home was not so far away that Jen couldn't get there, perhaps before anyone else!

Jen's grandmother was asleep, so Jen re-dressed quietly, grabbed a red dog leash, a huge strap on dildo, and a few hanks of rope from her past (and her top dresser drawer, where Grams never looked, apparently), and slipped out the back door in black spandex pants and a red tube top. She didn't bother to put on panties or a bra, so her ample bosom and rear strained against their stretchy encumbrances as she drove to Joey's place.  Rather than knock, Jen went to the windows and attempted to see inside.  Yep! There she was, the ice queen Joey, who had shown so much disdain for Jen and her history of sexual experimentation.  As Joey raised her exhausted eyes to the window, it was clear that as she recognized Jen, she began to quake in her umpteenth orgasm of the evening, her abject humiliation having carried her over the edge yet one more time.

There was no time to waste.  Jen tried the back door, found it open, and was soon inside, figuring out where Joey's keys were and what to do.  Jen quickly extracted Joey from the entire apparatus, catheter and all, except the penis gag, with tube still dangling, the posture collar, the wrist cuffs, and the locks attaching them to each other.  Then Jen escorted Joey to the bathroom, where her butt-plug was removed long enough for the hapless self-bondagette to relieve herself of her urine-enema.  Jen cleaned her up tenderly, and then replaced the butt-plug and harness promptly.   Putting the keys to all of Joey's little padlocks on a chain around her own neck, and attaching the red dog leash she had brought to Joey's posture collar, Jen led the bewildered nearly-nude Joey, who was trying to talk through her gag, outside into the cold night air.

Joey tried to say "But we..." but it came out as "fuck me," and Jen said, "I'll fuck you, don't worry, Joey."  Joey tried to say "No," but it came out "Go," and Jen, opening the trunk of her car, said, "Get in the trunk, Joey, and we can go."  As the trunk came down, Joey tried to say "Stop" but it came out "Shop," and Jen said, "Ok, we'll so shopping wherever I can find a store that's open."

Jen drove to the only store in Capeside that she knew would be open, the Dunkin Donuts.  Here she led Joey by the leash into the store to the amusement of its clerk, one Dwane Digby, a freshman at Capeside High.  Jen tied Joey's leash to the counter and said "Spank her, if you like, Dwane."  Nerdy Dwayne was beside himself as Jen began using the payphone to call some of the cheerleaders in her squad at the school.

The first cheerleader Jen called, a girl named Ima Gusher, was home alone with her parents out of town.  Hearing this, Jen said "Great, I'll be right there with a present for us both," and summarily extricated a hapless Joey from Dwayne's rather ineffectual but embarrassing fanny-swats.  Dwayne watched goggle-eyed as Jen absentmindedly pulled Joey tottering after her in her red ballerina-style on-point stiletto boots.
"Just remember," Dwayne, said Jen as she left, "I'm no longer the biggest slut in school.  You read it right on Joey's forehead, so tell the chess club, or whatever club you're in, to update their masturbatory fantasies!  Hell, tell 'em to call Joey for a good time and they can even stop wanking for awhile, right, Joey?"  Amazed at herself, Joey nodded yes with her gagged head, but plead for release with her watery eyes.

Dwayne watched as Jen stashed Joey in the trunk again, then drove off to Ima's house.   Ima had a side driveway with an ivy-covered white picket-fence arch over it.  Jen was humming the theme to Dawson's Creek as she pulled in the driveway. you know. the one that goes "I don't want to wait/ For our lives to be over."  Ima opened the back door to see what her cheerleading squad leader wanted at - what was it, now - nearly 2 AM?

Jen was surprising enough herself in her tight pants and hot tube top, but when she pushed the button to open the trunk and said - "'ave a peep at what we've got in the boot, dearie" in a fake British accent, Ima just about wet her pants.  The Ice Queen of Capeside herself, Joey Potter, the intellectual better-than-you-girls bitch who hung out with the cutest boys but managed to never give them any, was worse than naked and in wrist-to-collar bondage in Ima's own driveway!

While Ima stood gaping, Jen was all business. "Ima, you and me are gonna have some fun with slut-face here, OK?"  "Su.sure, Jen," Ima managed, as the two of them helped Joey out of the trunk.

Once inside, Joey was escorted to Ima's bedroom, where her wrists were released from her posture collar and re-locked to each other behind her back.  Jen produced some of the rope she had brought, knotted it repeatedly along its length, and created a tight crotchrope for Joey to enjoy for the rest of the evening.
Joey was pushed down onto her knees in front of the two cheerleaders.

"Joey, here, put herself into bondage, Ima.  She wanted a little fun on a lonely Friday night.  Well, let's give her some."  Jen then addressed herself to Joey.  "Joey, I'm going to take off your gag, but only if you agree to my terms.  You are going to do ANYthing that Ima and I tell you to do until dawn, and then I will take you back to your own house and release you.  In the meantime, no screaming, no complaining, and no speaking unless spoken to.  When you do speak, you will address either of us as Mistress.   Nod if you agree."  Joey was in tears.  How COULD it have come to this?  This awful blonde bimbo she had loathed for two years now was going to make her, Joey Potter, eat pussy.

Joey nodded as her tears ran down her nose, past her gag, where they joined her drool, and down the sternum between her exposed breasts.  "OK," she tried to say, but Jen said, "I told you to nod, not to talk! And you forgot to say Mistress!" and slapped her hard across the face.  "I guess I've always wanted to do that," Jen admitted.  "Now, don't give me any more excuses.  You're supposed to be smart, now obey us like the SLUT that you so proudly say that you are!"  Joey nodded, and the gag came off.  There was a loud, almost sickening POP as it exited Joey Potter's mouth, trailing drool the way a Little Caesar's Pizza Ad trails cheeze.

"Now, Ima," asked Jen, "have you ever had anybody eat your pussy?"  "No," she replied, "and I'm not sure that I want to have a girl be the first, but Joey here is just begging to do it, I suppose."  "That's a good idea," said Jen.  "Joey: beg for it, and be LITERARY while you're at it.  I just KNOW you can!"

Joey gulped, swallowing her own copious and thick saliva, tried to wipe her chin on her shoulder, and, looking Jen straight in the eye, enounced in a little-girl voice:

"Mistress, put me to some use.
Make me drink your pussy juice.
Keep me here until the dawn
Then stake me out across your lawn.
Make me keep my pretty nose
Buried where your essence flows,
Make me keep my pretty mouth
Pressed against your tropic South,
Married to your gorgeous bush.
If I am too gentle, push
My head against your pussy, where
Angels dream and slavegirls dare.
Make me press my virgin face
Deep into your secret place,
So that one who saw us would
Think I had no face, or could
Live forever in your thighs.
Mistress, in your awesome eyes
I can sense my own defeat.
I must eat, and eat, and eat,
As if your pussy were my meal,
And I must eat you well, a real
Slut in every way for you.
I must taste your sticky goo
As it issues in long strands
From your secret folds.  My hands
Are chained behind me, so that I
Cannot escape, but really, why
Would any slave wish to evade
Service?  I will be your maid,
Dusting you with my wet tongue
In every secret fold.  Your young
Labia and clit, and hood,
Will be my hometown neighborhood,
My place to live, to hang, and meet
Friends.  My friends will be your sweet
Hole and clit and pussy lips.
That's where I belong!  Use whips
And chains so that I must
Burrow deep into your lust,
But all I need is to be told
To push my tongue into your fold.
Mistress, it would be a rush
To drink your juices! Let them gush
In my mouth and down my chin,
To where my pubic hairs begin,
My own more humble pussy-mound
Which no hand yet, nor tongue has found.
Let my tongue go where you wish -
A swirl, a spank, a subtle swish
Of tender moisture pressing where
Your hand might go, where I not there
To meet your pussy's every need,
And more - to satisfy its greed!
Mistress, I can't get enough!
Make me lick your juicy muff!"

Ima was astonished, but Jen simply said "I knew you had it in you, Joey."  Indeed, Jen had known.  While it had seemed before to Joey that Jen was being harsh, a bimbo bitch, Jen was simply being the top that Joey needed and was trying to be for herself with her self-bondage.

You see, Jen had a sexual history longer than that of the rest of the Capeside High student body combined.
Her exile from New York to Capeside had been precipitated by her discovery, by her parents, in latex bondage, being triple-penetrated by three neighbor boys.  She had herself provided the red latex open-breasted top and thigh-highs, and had also produced the handcuffs which held her hands behind her back as she sucked one, and greedily absorbed two other boys with her nether orifices.  Her parents had been shocked, and had sent her to Grams, her even more prudish, and even more religious, Grandmother.

Yes, Jen had confronted her demons somewhat earlier than Joey.  She had become fully orgasmic by twelve, while Joey was just learning orgasms tonight, at age eighteen.  She knew that bondage and discipline could be stimuli to push any girl past her previous limits into new territories of pleasure and fulfillment.  Even without love, yes, even without love, good sex had its place.  And Jen knew all about good sex.

For her part, Joey had somehow talked herself into enjoying her situation.  She realized now that the dare she had given herself, and the steely cold pride with which she had expected to avoid her own traps - the automatic email for instance - Joey now knew that these were all mechanisms she had created in order to force herself into just such a situation as this.

Now, at least romantically, Joey had never considered herself a lesbian.  But Joey - well she could do worse than to eat one of the prettiest girls in town.  And Ima was no slouch either, being a cheerleader as well.  So Joey Potter inched forward on her knees and began attempting to pull Jen's pants down.   "No," Jen said, "eat Ima first."  So Joey Potter inched over to Ima and began trying to unzip her denim Guess? jeans with her teeth and tongue.  Amusedly, Joey thought that "Guess?" referred to her own curiosity as to what Ima Gusher would taste like "down there."   She was secretly glad that the cheerleaders had gotten to her before the football team.

Ima was of little help, and Joey had to work her way all around Ima, tugging at the waistline of her jeans from all sides, before she could get the jeans down to Ima's ankles.  A little more work got them off, and she was now looking at Ima's panties.  But wait!  They were the sort of panties that say what day of the week they were put on, and Ima's panties said Sunday!  "That's right, Joey, I've had them on all week.  Haven't had a bath all week, either.  All the better for you, from the sound of your begging."

And Ima and Jen had a good belly laugh while Joey turned as red as a freshly spanked ass.  Nonetheless, she stuck her tongue out as far as she could, and approached Ima's panties like a patient being told to say "ahhh."  Ima said "Ok, SLUT," (for the word was still emblazoned on Joey's forehead) "I'll make it easy for you."  Ima stepped out of her panties, slipped them over Joey's head and around her neck, and sat down in an easy chair in the corner.  Joey moved over and began eating Ima's pussy, while, unbeknownst to her, Jen began strapping on her long, black, hard, shiny, latex dildo.

Joey thought for a moment about what she would like if someone were licking her, and began by licking just the vertical strips of bare flesh between Ima's upper thighs and her outer labia.  Down to up, then over to the other side and down to up again. Nothing but that, and no contact with Ima's pussy, for about five minutes (seemed like fifty to both girls) until Ima grabbed Joey's hair and said "don't be a tease, do it, you slut!"  Joey was now, for real, for the first time, eating pussy.  Her tongue, at least, was no longer virgin.

Jen knelt behind Joey and began stroking Joey's own, heretofore neglected pussy while Joey ate Ima, who soon proved to live up to her name.  Joey thought at first she was getting peed on, so copious were Ima's vaginal secretions!  But Joey didn't mind in the least as she proceeded to line her own tummy both inside and out with Ima's strong, bittersweet secretions.  Joey flattened her tongue and moved it slowly from bottom to top of Ima's pussy, giving a little coy flick just at the top as if to say "hello"  or "see you soon!" to Ima's clitoris.  Jen interjected a suggestion from her own past, when she had served as a slavegirl to multiple tops of both sexes simultaneously.  "Say 'Yum Yum' after every few licks," said Jen, "and say it as if you mean it!"

Joey completed two more slow vertical licks and then said, in her best little-girl-eating-candy voice, "yum, yum!"  before continuing her endless meal.

Joey was enjoying her self-abasement more than she had ever enjoyed putting down Pacey and the other teens for being sexual.  Having lived on a pedestal of her own making, with only that cold fish Dawson for a worshipper, Joey had been putting the potential joys of sexuality out of her thoughts more successfully than most hormone-driven young girls.   That was probably, Joey now realized, the main reason she had always preferred Dawson, a low-testasterone type if there ever was one, to all the other guys.  It was also why she had gone no further than a kiss with Pacey before dissing him again, much harder than if she had never allowed those furtive smooches in the dark.

Meanwhile, Jen was wishing she had brought some K-Y lubricant to put on the strapon dildo she was donning over her spandex pants.  But when she knelt behind Joey and, maneuvering around the butt-plug harness Joey was wearing, urged the head of her long black cock into Joey's pussy, Jen realized that lubricant would have been unnecessary.  Joey was as wet as they come.  Jen let her have it inch by rock-hard inch, and she had ten inches to give her, enough to make it important that Jen judge whether she was slamming against Joey's cervix or still just filling her passage.  But Joey's unusually ample rear, plus the fact that Jen was coming into her from behind, made the ten-inch, smooth black latex just the right length, and its somewhat oversided but otherwise realistic head made its passage in and out more noticeable than it might otherwise have been in that wet, wet channel.

As the head of the dildo reached its limit on the way in, it rubbed "heads" with the butt-plug which Joey had impaled herself with earlier that night.  The two had a "tete-a-tete" as it were, with the tissues separating Joey's vagina from her rectum as the wall they spoke to each other through.  The butt-plug seemed to be admiring the greater size of Jen's strapon, while the strapon seemed interested in the butt-plug's having been there in the first place.  In between was Joey, licking Ima and drinking her juices as if Joey had just crossed the desert with Lawrence of Arabia and was finally able to drink the sweet waters of an oasis.  "Yum, Yum!" Joey said, again, as Jen started to thrust in and out of her more regularly and rapidly, and as Ima's breathing started to increase concomitantly Joey thought it meet to increase the rapidity of her tongue-movements.

Joey drew circles around Ima's clitoris both clockwise and counter-clockwise.  She had to learn to swallow quickly to keep up with Ima's gushing secretions lest the sheer volume of pussy-juice keep her tongue from functioning.  Joey pulled Ima's entire clitoris and clitoral hood into her pretty mouth and sucked it like a little cock.  At that point Ima started to lose all sense of self-control.  Ima had been enjoying Joey's humiliation more than the stimulation, or so she had told herself.  But at this point who was licking her and what else was going on in the room were questions she could no more answer than the name of the first dynasty in China or, for that matter, who was buried in Grant's tomb.  Just as Joey had forgotten her hands, useless behind her, and had discovered her lips and tongue, as well as her rectum and pussy, Ima had forgotten her entire body and had discovered her clitoris.  Oh, Ima had rubbed herself there plenty, but not with the devotion, slipperiness, and rapidity which Joey was able to provide.  Ima started to clamp her thighs against Joey's ears and Joey went deaf.

The sounds of her own breathing, of Ima's moans, and of the now-wet front of Jen's strapon harness slapping her ample, plush buttocks all went immediately silent.  Only in their absence did Joey realize how erotic they had been.  But now in the silence, and the vice-like pressure of Ima's thighs, and as Jen thrusted in and out at least once per second with all of her strength, Joey started to cum as well.  Joey pressed her mouth even harder against Ima's pussy and alternated between her various licking techniques at the rate of one per three seconds.  Ima started yelling and even the hermetic seal her wet thighs made against Joey's ears could not stop that sound.  The neighbor's dog heard it, and answered with a mournful sound, as if to ask for a similar release.  The teenage boy down the block heard it in his sleep and experienced an immediate ejaculation in his sleep, without onanistic stimulation.  Jen heard it, and said "Pipe down, Ima, before the Police come," but Ima did not hear this admonition.  The sun heard it, and began to come up.
As Ima and Joey came, Jen started coming due to the friction on her own pussy from the bumpy inside of her strapon harness.  "!" she said, as she thrust herself against Joey's helpless ass even harder than before, whacking it again and again and simultaneously pressing her equipment against her own hot pussy.

As the first rays of dawn began to shine through Ima's window, Jen began untying Joey with the intent of returning her to her home.  What did not dawn on any of the three was that Joey would be less safe at home than anywhere else, after her mass emailing earlier that night.  But Jen unlocked all of Joey's padlocks, washed all of the equipment in Ima's bathroom, and even massaged Joey's neck before asking, rather than dragging, Joey back into her car, this time in the passenger seat and wearing a bathrobe borrowed from Ima.  As Joey went up the stairs to her home she did not notice the cars parked near her home that were not there when she had left in Jen's custody.  Who was there to greet her as she came, exhausted, back into her living room, confronted with the evidence of her self-bondage insanity?

Why Dawson, of course.

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