Chapter 2

"Okay, Sonny, what are you planning?"

Jessie was sitting on Sonny's lap, stroking his blond hair. Both were naked; Sonny was beginning to, metaphorically speaking, rise to the occasion. Every so often Jessie shifted, pressing his rising cock between their bodies.

"I'm planning for us two, at least, to have a good time while Jeanne is here. Jeanne may have a litle trouble walking when she leaves, but..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know as well as I do that at some point while she's here, she's going to come on to you."

"Well, yes..."

"And what are you going to do if your First Lover comes on to you, using what she knows about you from three years as your lover?"

"I'm going to tell her 'NO' of course!" Jessie exclaimed virtuously.

"Uh huh. Like you told Jo 'No' when she hit on you in the dressing room at 'Hot Rags'."

"We-e-l-l-l... I TOLD you before I went in that I thought Jo was going to hit on me, and you said you didn't mind..."

"Of course not. While you and Jo were frolicking in the dressing room, Nikki was fucking my brains out in the back office."

"WHAT? You never told me!"

"You never asked."

"What about that threesome you did with Susie and Fred?"

"You know about that?"

"Susie was over here almost before your cum dried on her face tattling and trying to get into my pants."

"That little bitch! She said she had a doctor's appointment and left -- me and Fred went on fucking for another hour or so!"

"Well, she sure played 'doctor' over here all afternoon..." Jessie smiled reminiscently.

As they swapped accusations and boasts of past infidelities, Jessie and Sonny didn't really notice where their hands were wandering.

Suddenly, Sonny stood up, scooping Jessie up in his arms effortlessly. With a deep and evil chuckle, he strode off to their bedroom still carrying her in his strong arms.

"HEY!" Jessie squawked. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Funny you shold ask that," Sonny chuckled, shifting her weight to one hip and one arm, easily holding her still despite her beginning to struggle a little. He rummaged in a dresser drawer with the other hand, grabbing out several pairs of pantyhose that had been prepared for just such an occasion.

Stepping toward the bed, he tossed her suddenly onto it, then fell on top of her, though he only let his weight come down on her gradually, pinning her face down on the bed.

"Dammit, what the fuck... ?" she sputtered, then yelled "HEY! What... ?" as Sonny flipped the nooses already tied in the foot ends of one pair of pantyhose over her wrists and pulled them tight, then flipped the upper part of them over the big ball that decorated the center of the top bar of their big brass bed.

"You just hold on there, one fucking minute, buster... !" she snarled, as he turned and captured her left ankle, looping one end of another pair over her foot, then flipping the other end onto the post at one bottom corner of the bed.

Now that she was held down by both wrists and one ankle, he stepped back to look at her. Lying on her belly, hair falling sexily over one eye, small but firm breasts flattened under her, her shapely ass sticking up in the air and wuivering as her free foot kicked frantically, she proceeded to tell him just what she thought of his sense of humour and his goddamned fucking horny games...

"Yes, dear," he murmured, catching her head and deftly popping a ball gag into her mouth. With her yells muted to incoherent squawking sounds through the airholes in the ball, he leisurely attended to her other ankle, fastening it securely to the bedpost on the other lower corner, and then carefully spread out the pair of pantyhose that held her arms so that they hooked over two smaller knobs about a foot and a half apart before running down to hold her arms a bit apart.

Then he stepped back to admire his handiwork.

She lay on her belly, legs pulled widely but not uncomfortably far apart by the bonds holding her to the bottom bedposts. Her upper body was comfortably supported on a couple of pillows he had placed there, and her hands were held above her head near a couple of the bars of the brass bedstead, which she was gripping as she struggled against the ties, grunting through the gag that blocked her from speaking.

Her shining black pageboy hair was slightly disarranged, though not too badly; however, one lock fell directly in front of her left eye, giving a marvellously sexy charge to the smouldering glare she aimed at him.

"Yes," he said. "Yes -- I believe that's it."

He turned to the nightstand on the left side of the bed -- her side of the bed -- and rummaged in it until he found what he was looking for.

He turned back to her holding a small magazine, at the sight of which her eyes widened and a very fetching blush ran fron her cheeks down over her breasts.

Glancing at the titlepage, he remarked "And it's an Irving Klaw original, not a reprint! Nothing but the best for you, eh, my dear?"

He began flipping pages while she tried to figure out what he was up to.

"Ah -- I knew I saw it!" he said. Looking down at her and then back at the magazine, he reached down and adhusted the position of the strand of hair in front of her eye. "There!" he said. "Perfect!"

He turned the magazine around. At the sight of the picture he had been studying, she closed her eyes tightly and pressed her face into the pillows to hide her embarrassment as her cheeks and tits flamed bright red with embarrassment.

There, in the under-the-counter fetish photo magazine from the Fifties she had thought she had kept secret from Sonya all these months, was a photo of bondage queen Betty Page, tied hand and foot to the frame of a big old-fashioned brass bed, hands over her head, one loose strand of her black hair falling over her left eye as she gazed into the camera's lens, giving the reader an unmistakeable come-on.

Just as she herself was positioned now, Betty was photographed completely nude, rounded ass-cheeks high in the air, legs spread wide below her, wearing nothing but a pair of patent-leather fuck-me pumps and a ball gag in her generously-made-up mouth.

Despite that, the sexual charge in Betty's lash-shrouded stare through the lens and into the viewer's eyes carried a charge of sexuality and of challenge -- challenge to prove that he (or she, it was one of Jessie's favourite photos for a little quiet finger-exercise when Sonya wasn't around) was even her equal, let alone her better, even tied as she was apparently helplessly here on this bed.

For a moment Jessie stared at the picture. Then she noticed Sonny's other hand.

Which held a long ostrich plume with all the fluff plucked off the central quill except for a large tuft at the end.

Frantically, she began to shake her head, as Sonny smiled down at her and twiddled the plume in his fingers.

"Hmmm, now what could I do if I were a nasty person who liked to take advantage of helpless people?" he mused. "Well..."

Reaching out, he softly stroked the side of the nearest breast, where it was pressed flat by her weight. She twitched and again began trying to swear at him through the gag. As she rolled away from the plume, she exposed the areola and perky nipple... which Sonny promptly tickled enthusiastically with the long feather.

Rolling back again, she hid the nipple from him, but not before he saw it had begun to pucker up with excitement. She rolled as far to her left as she could, hiding her tit completely, but exposing her back and curved ass to him, which he wasted no time taking advantage of, passing the end in a twitching motion along the crack of her ass from top to bottom, then continued along the inside of her right thigh, as the bonds held her legs spread open.

Again she twitched and bucked, and the muscles stood out in her thighs as she tried to close her legs against the pantyhose's pull, but couldn't.

The feather traced its way in curved arcs across the back of her right knee, up the inside of her right thigh, across from her right cheek to the other, then down the inside of her left thigh, until it was tickling the back of her left knee.

By this time, she had stopped trying to complain, and was merely gasping for breath as her body twitched to the touch of the diabolical plume.