When Vicki thought about their relationship, she had to admit that at times she just wasn't sure. She would beat herself up at the thought because it as certainly the most caring and close relationship she'd ever had with a man. He was funny, and tender in their moments together. It made her hate herself for not being satisfied.
She blamed all of her potential dissatisfaction on her own inner conflicts. She thought of them in various ways but most often just as her 'dirty thoughts'. This was her dilemma:
"How do you let some one with whom you are falling in love know that you'd like to be somehow, somewhere, sometime the sexual victim of a group of guys?"
The question just sat there and seemed to mock her, whenever she turned to it. In those times that they were together, she and Blaine, there was no conflict. But let her get alone, and she was always tempted to pull her panties down and let her fingers go roaming, as she pulled up from her thoughts those dark scenes of lust that pleased a part of her so much.
She spent time, her own alone time, with places like assm or asstr.org, or SOL or Literotica.com always looking for the right scenario, one that would meld with her fantasies, in essence 'her scenario'. It was hard to find but various of the erotica that she perused came dangerously close.
Her constant question was: "What does Blaine do, when he discovers that I'm a 'sicko'?"
It was perpetually the question for which she was afraid to receive the answer. It was also frequently, if not actually perpetually, the question in her mind.
"Admit it," she'd say to herself, "This relationship feels like home and family and working at building a best friend kind of relationship; so how do you tell your potential best friend, the father of your kids, your life companion that you have a desire to some how be pursued and forced like so many of the teacher at the hands of their students in the erotic stories?"
Her answer to herself was always the same: "Good question." She never seemed to go further, and was frequently morose at the thought that her own inner erotic drive was going to sabotage what she and Blaine were working at.
At such times she would cry out in her head: "Why isn't soft intimacy enough for me?"
She never got an answer.
Blaine was certainly at sea to discover what kind of appropriate birthday gift he might get her. He stumbled on the perfect gift quite by accident. He was waiting for her one night. She was frequently late. She kept telling him that she'd be there soon. He had asked if he might check his e-mail on her computer. She said to go ahead.
When he got onto her computer he found, really by accident, a log that turned out to be her personal 'Thoughts and Fantasies' log. He quickly looked around, could hear the shower still going in the bathroom, and sent a copy of the log to himself. He then erased the transaction.
Later that same night he got a chance to read through her fantasy log. He was initially shocked and then flat turned on by her admitting, in the log, that she constantly fantasized about being forced into sex with a group of guys. She spoke of fantasies about being sought out, put into situations where she would certainly be overpowered. Her language was graphic. She mentioned the web sites where she went seeking the kind of erotic stories that would feed her fantasy. She also spent some time writing of her regrets that she couldn't, hadn't maybe wouldn't share these fantasies with Blaine.
He ended jerking off to the scenarios that she sketched in her log, as she gave herself some room to let her mind wander about.
He thought about that and made a decision based on her own words about the birthday gift.
She yelled at herself then to 'get a move on', they were going to have a kind of breakfast or brunch date today, not usual for them, but it was a glorious Saturday and being outside was going to be a treat. She hastened to get ready, and was pleased to greet him at the door, when he arrived.
"Hey, Blaine," she cooed, moving into his arms.
"Hey, birthday girl," he said softly back to her.
"And how do you know?" she wanted to know then.
"Oh, Blaine knows lots of things," he grinned, "It's part of my charm."
She made a playful movement to knee his groin, causing him to flinch and protect himself; it ended with her grinning her most evil grin, and the two of them kissing. These playful moments were among the best, she always thought.
He leaned back from the kiss then and gave her a serious look.
"What? What is it, Blaine?" she asked, suddenly anxious.
"Well," he began, "I have a couple of birthday gifts, and I'm really not sure if you're going to like the one but I hope you will."
"Oh, Blaine," she said, her head against his chest, "If you're giving it, of course I'll like it."
"Well," he said, stroking her hair, "I'm just not sure; Vicky, if I'm wrong about what you and I can be, if I'm really wrong about what you want, then I apologize in advance, and this gift is probably going to be a mistake."
She looked at him then with a combination of anxiety and love on her face. "Please don't worry so, Blaine; this is you and me that we're talking about."
He brightened and said: "Okay, let's go; we're off to the country; I'll give you the gift there."
They drove into the country and it was a beautiful day to be out and about. He took her, after a bit, on a small side road that didn't look like it ever had much traffic. He stopped at a small road pull off, and parked the car.
She looked at him expectantly. He said to her with some nervousness:
"The gift will start here but I have to ask you to do a few things for me."
"Yes?" she said, smiling at him; she loved the mystery of it.
"First," he said, "I need you to get out of the car with me for a moment."
When they were out of the car, he put his arms around her and looked at her, again with earnestness and love; he said:
"Vicky, this is something that I really think you'll love; if I'm wrong, I tell you that I can't apologize enough. It's a real possibility that I'm about to make the biggest fool of myself imaginable."
""I wish you'd stop worrying so," she said to him softly.
"Fine, love," he concluded, "Now here it is, for the duration of this 'birthday gift' I need you to promise to do everything that I tell you to do. Do you understand?"
She grinned and said: "Yes, mister mysterious!"
There was a part of her thoughts that surged right then and there into her favorite sex fantasy, the one like the medieval tapestry of mounted men hunting a fleeing naked woman with dogs in the chase. Victoria shoved the thought down and promised herself to consult it later. This right here and now was serious business.
"Okay, Vicky," he went on, "Just to tell you that when these kinds of situations in our lives come up, I'm going to call you Tori, it'll be a kind of sign to both of us."
"What kind of situations?" she wanted to know.
"You'll understand shortly; the gift starts now but remember to do what I tell you."
"I promise, Blaine," she said solemnly.
His smile came back to his face but the anxiety was there. He certainly hoped that she was as intent about her fantasies, as she seemed to be in that log. He apparently was about to reveal this big birthday surprise, and was still nervous about it.
"Tori," he began then.
The use of the name kind of gave Victoria a surge; she couldn't explain it but it turned her on somehow, it was like her name for a game to be played, and maybe that's what he had in mind.
He broke in on her reverie and what he said shocked her, to her toes, stabbed her with a hot intensity that she hardly thought possible, thrilled her in a part of herself that she thought would always lie dormant until she was alone in the dark, and threatened to make her cry simply from the possibilities that it hinted at.
"Tori," he said, "I want you to strip now; I want you naked, totally naked."
And then she was panting; she was spontaneously out of breath, with hardly an explanation, but she knew well enough. He had, in one stroke, reached down inside of her and grasped the secret dreams and desires, the ones that she spent so much time both hiding from him, and making her nights alone wet with, and he had taken possession of them. Suddenly her fantasies, her wet dreams, were their common property.
"It should be a shock," an inner voice said to her, but she knew better; she knew that it was not a shock but a wonder.
"What's wrong?" he wanted to know, when he saw her so suddenly out of breath and panting.
"Oh, Blaine," she said softly but earnestly, "It's just that, when you said what you just said, I almost had an orgasm! I just almost did!"
Blaine was smiling from ear to ear; for the first time in this perilous 'gift idea' he was sure that he was right. The log had not, indeed, led him astray.
"Please," she said to him, --but in the middle of the statement that she was about to make, she realized that she was going to ask him, no, beg him to continue with what he had planned, and she loved the idea.
"Please, Blaine, I'm begging you; say that to me again, make the statement again, the demand again. Please, please, darling."
Blaine gave her his wicked smile, the one that never failed to make her wet, although she didn't see how she could get wetter, he said to her:
"Strip, Tori, take all your clothes off, do it now!"
She realized suddenly that she was on the very verge of saying 'yes, sir', but she held back not sure if it was actually that kind of situation yet or not. She held the thought, and said:
He interrupted her then, wanting to make sure that he set the mood correctly: "Yes, who?" he asked severely.
She looked at him with a strange kind of transfixed look on her face and said slowly and clearly:
"Better, Tori," he said in a cold voice, "Be sure not to forget that."
"Sir, I won't, sir," she said hastily.
"Strip, now," he concluded then.
She knew that the situation really wasn't maybe what she wanted it to be but allowed herself to wander into her fantasy territory to make it the kind of prelude to a rough encounter with a number of men that she so loved to think about.
She made her movements deliberately slow. She grabbed the hem of her tee shirt and pulled it up to her face and over her head. The material, covering her face for a few seconds, gave her the thrill that often came to her of being blind folded and used. This time she let the thought bounce around her mind, absorbing it in the slowness of her motion to strip, as he had commanded.
She removed the tee shirt and put is slowly aside. Her dark brown nipples were poking at the material of her soft yellow bra, with its glistening material. She stood for a moment to let him look.
"You really know how to do this, Tori," he said, "You have wonderful sexual instincts."
Without thinking, she simply said what was on her mind: "Thank you, sir!'
"Thank you, sir," she repeated, now totally wrapped up in what he was making her do, no matter what I came to eventually. "May I please remove my bra or would you prefer the jeans next?"she asked.
"Politeness in you is such a lovely sexual turn on," he commented, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.
"Thank you, sir; it makes me happy for you to say that."
By these simple interchanges, they had defined this new part of their relationship; they realized that it fit. She waited for him patiently.
"Jeans," he said, "I wish to see you on this dirt road wearing only your panties and bra."
"Of course, sir," she almost sang to him, unbuttoning the jeans at the waist band and beginning their journey down and off. She pulled her jeans down until they hung about at her thighs, revealing the matching yellow material of her panties. Facing him, as she did, she was showing him her curly pussy hair. It made him smile.
Then without being told, she simply turned around to show him her ass. He loved her display and the obvious fact that she was trying to please him by putting herself on display. For a few seconds, again following her instinct, she bent over from the waist to show him and emphasize her ass cheeks, clearly visible through her panties.
"Lovely and beyond lovely, pet," he said, "Lovely ass, lovely pussy; what a treasure you are."
"You make me blush, sir," she said, "I am so thankful that you feel that way."
Then the jeans were off. Her sandals were off to the side and she stood in the road in her panties and bra.
"Gorgeous," he said with some emotion.
Tori was as wet as she thought she possibly could be.
"Here's what I want next," he said. "Do you see that tree with a branch hanging over the road? It's about a block away."
"Yes, sir," was her soft but humble reply.
"Walk to it causally; when you get there, take off your bra, first, and the your panties; turn around to display yourself, and then walk back to me."
Tori tried to make it the most sensuous walk imaginable. She was basking, as she went, in the thought that doing this because the man you loved was telling you to was so much more sensuous that doing it for strangers. It was a thought that she just adored.
She got to the tree and turned around. With a smooth movement her bra was off. She held it out in the air in a hand that was stretched out. He clapped. She bowed. She dropped it in the road. The the panties went. Like the jeans she made it a kind of step process, stopping when they were at mid thigh to display herself. She showed her neat pussy triangle and then her ass to him. Now he clapped and whistled. She grinned, took her panties off and grabbing her bra from the dirt, went strolling back to him.
She got to the car and he stood with his arms open; she went into them with pleasure. He held her, and she whispered into his ear:
"Blaine, I am loving my birthday present."
"There's more to come," he said softly. "Tori, remember that this is not only you; this is me and you; we're doing this. There is no time during this birthday gift that you're alone. Remember."
"I promise my love, my hero, my darling," she kind of sang into his hear.
"Now turn around," he instructed her. She did He told her then to put her hands behind her back. She was again breathing hard; the experience was pushing her closer to an orgasm with every level to which he took it.
She let out a long sighing moan, as she turned her back to him and crossed her wrists. He tied them together, and turned her around and held her. She had her face in his neck and, on a whim, reached out and licked his throat.
"The next two things might be scary," he said, "But remember that we're doing this together."
"Yes, sir," she said in a small and trembling voice. There was nothing that it would ever occur to her, she was sure, that she'd deny him now.
He opened the trunk of the car and told her to get into the trunk.
Her sigh was a huge one, she shuddered, and she came. The thought, what he wanted now, what he planned for her next, simply pushed her over the edge into her orgasm.
At first he was worried: "Are you okay?" he wanted to know.
She leaned against him, as he held her and said: "I just came; I'm sorry, sir."
"Don't dare apologize for enjoying your birthday gift," he instructed her kindly.
She gazed up at him and said, with some tears in her eyes: "This is wonderful; it's like all my fantasies at once. Please, sir, help me get in."
He did; he held her so that she could climb safely into the trunk, where he had blankets and pads to make it comfortable.
When he had her in the trunk, he said to her: "One more thing; I have this, and then we'll go for what's next."
Her eyes widened as he fitted a bag over her head that reached all the way to her shoulders, and had an opening for her mouth
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she sighed, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh yes"
He helped her nestle down into the trunk and whispered into her ear: "We'll be at our destination soon."
She heard the trunk lid close and was alone in the dark with her fantasies, her wetness and the knowledge that her dreams were coming true today. Her time in the trunk was, to her way of thinking, not very long, so busy was her mind with its constant dwelling and delving on and into fantasies. It just seemed to Victoria that this new turn of events made a great relationship, for her, even better.
Then the car stopped and she held her breath. Soon she heard the sound of the trunk being opened, felt the breeze across her sweaty body and saw some light through the sack over her head.
Blaine's strong hands pulled on her and guided her out of the trunk. She stumbled at the task but he was there and supported her, never letting her get hurt.
She said a very shy: "Thank you, sir," when she was up.
For a few seconds, Blaine held her close, and said softly into her ear:
"Tori, know this please; that I love you and will see that you're not hurt by what happens today."
"I know that, Blaine, my master," she said into his ear, through the bag over her head. She paused and then she continued: "I don't know how you knew about this; I was so afraid that you'd think that I was just too perverted to bother with."
He chuckled. "I need to tell you that, when I used your computer, I saw on your desktop the file 'Thoughts and Fantasies'; I sent it to myself."
"Ohh," she said quietly. She thought about it for only a few seconds and said to him shyly: "I apologize, sir, for keeping such information from you. I won't do that again."
"It's no problem, my sweet assed, naked captive," he said. "Maybe today you'll pay a little for that indiscretion."
"Yes, sir," she said, "I know that I need to."
"Let's get going then," he said to her. "Slip these on for the first part of our journey," he said. She felt him kneeling to her and putting a pair of slip on sandals on her feet.
Then he took her by the arm and started to lead her. "Just walk straight ahead," he said to her.
"Yes, sir," she said.
There was always this conflict within Victoria about these subjects. It was a conflict that she usually pushed down or away and simply went on and played with herself. Now she was not just projecting or fantasizing, now Blaine was bringing this kind of fantasy to reality for her. He was leading her, she was naked, he, presumably was not, and she knew that something truly erotic was going to happen. She felt kind of perverse for liking it so much, for being so wet between her legs. She felt that way but refused the kind of guilt trip that was associated with it.
They seemed to be going along a well worn path. They walked that way for about 10 minutes. It was pure heaven for Vicky in the darkness of her bag. He was feeding her fantasies and leading her to some kind of destination that she was already eagerly anticipating.
"May I ask where we're going?" she said quietly.
"Of course, sweetie," he said, "But I won't answer more than by saying, 'you'll see'."
She felt his head next to hers, as they went along. "Victoria," he whispered. "You've got the nicest ass imaginable."
"Thank you, sir," she said simply, "It pleased me so much that you are pleased."
"Oh, I am pleased," he said, "I just want to display you for everyone to show them what a sweet round ass you have."
"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," she sighed, at the very thought of his displaying her to others.
Again the jab of a thought of conscience was simply pushed away by her.
After another few minutes, he stopped her. He said to her: "Okay, I need to slip these off now. The grass will be smooth and you shouldn't have a problem. I want you to arrive at our destination totally naked."
"Yes, sir," she said, as she felt him slip the sandals from her feet.
"Also, now, no more talking; I'll do whatever talking needs to be done."
"Yes, sir," she said and lapsed into quietness.
Blaine took her by the arm again and they went forward. They walked for another 5 to 10 minutes and he stopped her. She sensed that there were others near them at that point. The very fact began to make her pussy wet. She found herself at the same time to be nervous, turned on, and very, very anxious, especially if she discovered that she was correct about others being there.
Then Blaine spoke up: "The runner is here."
"Good, a voice said. Her name?"
"Is Tori," Blaine said.
Then he took her hood off. She blinked in the sunshine for a few minutes. Looking around she saw that she and Blaine were standing in a large clearing and facing them, in the clearing, were three guys.
"Ohhhhhh," was all that she could manage.