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(c)2001 by Sara H.
----
In Descent
By Sara H
Categories: FF,FD,BD
----
Jessica looked down the list, checking the inventory against
her list. It was a simple job, but difficult nonetheless. After
awhile, the titles of the books all started running together,
leaving her cross-eyed and frustrated. "Daylight's End" would
become "Darla's Friend" and "Sense of Danger" would become
"Sensual Ranger". It usually went downhill from there.
She rubbed her bleary eyes and decided to take a break. Closing
them, she saw lines of text there... the after-image of too many
words, now mapped like headlines across her the insides of her
eyelids.
Coffee time. She walked out of her small bookstore and went
next door to the Twinings Café. "Hi, Peter," she called to the
owner. Peter was a pretty nice guy, and his moving in had
transformed her little hole-in-the-wall to a kind of underground
haven for those who liked reading over a cup of cappuccino. They
were even talking about putting in a door between their shops...
it would be good for both businesses.
If she weren't so overweight, she might have even asked him out.
Peter came out from the back and smiled. "The usual?" he asked.
"Large mocha, extra shot, no whipped cream," answered Jessica.
"The usual," said Pete, laughing at her inability to trust him
to know. After a year of the same order every day, it was
amazing that she still felt it necessary to say it out loud.
"You know, I love this place, Peter, especially all the knick-knacks. It really adds a kind of homey feel." Jessica
looked at the shelves filled with urns, grinders, burlap
bags and canisters. Then something caught her eye.
"Isn't that one new?" she asked, staring.
It was beautiful... a blue china bottle, with a white porcelain
stopper. The artwork was exquisite, and the more she looked at
it, the more beautiful it seemed to become. The artistry was
subtle... etchings so ornate as be almost invisible, worked into
the design of the stain, showing a within a picture.
"Yes, it is," said Peter, walking over and handing her the
mocha. I found it at the flea market last weekend. I don't think
it's worth much... it's an flavor syrup bottle, and I
thought that maybe I should add a touch of elegance to my
collection."
"You know, I should do something like that. Decorations and
atmosphere could add a lot to my store. It's pretty drab the way
it is."
"Well, why don't you start with this, then?" asked Peter,
taking the beautiful piece down from its shelf.
"Oh, Peter, I couldn't. It's too nice for you to just give me."
"Sure you could. Besides, when we put in the opening, it will
be back in here, in a way."
"Well, it won't be yours, though. But if you really think it's
okay..."
"It's fine. I want to. It will add some continuity to both our
places. And you've been my best customer."
"Okay, then," said Jessica, taking it from him. "I don't know
how to thank you..."
"Sincere thanks are all that I need," said Peter, still
smiling. "Have a good day, Jess."
She still wasn't sure, but when it ended up in her hand, it
seemed almost as if it carried itself. *How incredibly
delicate,* she thought, wandering back to her store.
----
Two days later, Jessica was holding the bottle again. It was
wondrously light... sometimes it felt like if she let go of it,
it would float in midair. The designs were especially
intriguing. She'd looked in book after book, but she couldn't
find anything remotely familiar in culture or style.
Right now, she was having the oddest thought. Peter had said it
had once contained flavoring syrup, and she was wondering if it
would still have any aroma. She knew it was silly; that the
bottle had likely been cleaned many times, but it was a thought
that kept coming back to her.
Finally turning a corner, she tried to pull out the stopper.
Luck was not running in her favor though, and it was stuck
tight. She tried running it under water, and even tapped the top
lightly on the counter, but nothing seemed to work.
Giving up, she went to get a rag to wipe the water off. As she
did, the etchings took on a deeper quality... and although she
had treated it with kid gloves up to that point, not wanting to
even polish it, she ran her finger down from the neck to its
base.
A delicious shiver ran up her arm and part way up her neck...
and then, as if it realized it was going the wrong direction,
moved down her body and caromed straight into her pussy.
Jessica's eyes went wide. Growing up in her fundamentalist
family, pleasure was something that was only felt briefly, and
with the greatest of guilt. But this didn't have any residual
emotion... in fact, she felt a kind of odd, disorienting
euphoria. And, it had made her wet.
She took her palm, and rubbed it down the side.
Immediately, her body convulsed as a wave of pleasure washed
through her, making her nipples erect, and her literally
gush. She felt light-headed and giddy... but not so giddy to
realize that she had nearly dropped it. She placed it on the
counter and, placing both hands on it, began to lightly rub both
hands over it, exploring the contours.
As she moaned with her approaching climax, she realized she
couldn't stop... it was just too *fucking* good... and she
giggled as she realized that fucking was just the word she had
been looking for, a word she would have been embarrassed to
admit she even *knew* only moments before.
She began to grunt in time with her hands, "Ungh...
ungh...ungh..." She threw her head back, her knees near buckling
as the pleasure swept through her like a tornado through a sunny
summer day. And then with a blinding flash, she came, screaming
out, falling to the floor, legs and arms flailing, a buoy in a
tidal wave, head crashing and eyes losing sight... and then,
slowly, coming to rest... the wave relenting, softening, leaving
her bobbing up and down on the gentle swells of her afterglow.
She stood up behind the counter, hoping no one had seen or
heard her vile display. She looked at the bottle, and her eyes
grew wide. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't normal. Then she
noticed something else. The stopper had come out.
She hear a rustling and leaned over the counter to see a
woman... slowly sitting up. "Um... I was... um... just..." she
stammered.
The woman looked up at her with coal black eyes. No, not
black... her irises were a very dark violet.
"God, you must be the repressed woman of the millenium," the
woman said. "The more pent up, the bigger the climax, and honey,
I've *never* like that... not in six thousand years."
Jessica was stupefied. "What are you talking about?"
"You look like a smart girl." The woman closed her eyes
briefly. "Jessica. Jessica Minors. That's you. Are you a dunce,
or what?"
"No, I'm not a dunce," sniffed Jessica, insulted.
"Okay, then, look at it. bottle. Rub the bottle. Strange
person appears who knows your name. Sounding familiar?"
"You're a djinn? A genie?" said Jessica. She would have been
more skeptical, but after all... she had just been through the
weirdest experience of her life. This was nothing by comparison.
Jessica looked at the woman. Like the bottle, the more she
looked, the more beautiful the woman became. She was getting wet
all over again, despite herself. Not being a only served
to confuse and embarrass her more.
"I'm a djinn, yes, but I'm Riala, not Genie. And don't worry
about the arousal. It comes with the territory.
At the word arousal, Jessica's nipples sent a hot spark
straight to her clit. She couldn't take her eyes off of this
woman. More and more, she didn't want to. "And I suppose I get
three wishes, then?"
"Well... that was wishful *thinking* on someone's part. I mean,
with no limits, one per customer. Pretty fair, considering the
amount of work I do. You already got one gift."
Jessica blushed as she caught herself teasing a nipple through
her blouse. It was just too good to ignore, and the walking
goddess before her wasn't making it any easier. She squeezed her
legs together, trying to rub her clit. "That was you, then."
"No, it was the bottle. If you were sexually experienced, you
probably would have gotten money, or love for letting me out. I
don't really control that part. The bottle just figures out what
you have the least of and gives it to you."
"And how do I make the wish?"
"You write it down. Any ideas? I'd like to suggest a night of
outrageously wonderful sex with me. No one ever seems to take me
up on it, though," said Riala, licking her full, round lips.
"I'm always ready for wishing. And I'm certainly tempted... but
I have my whole life to think about. So, if you're ready, I know
what it is. It's..."
"No, you can't say it. That ruins my ability to bring it about.
You have to write it down. Then, since I can't read human
languages, you have to translate it. You do that by burning it.
Smoke is uni-lingual once you know how to read it. And I've read
lots of smoke."
Jessica wrote down the wish, as instructed and after a nearly
futile search for a match, burned it. *What the hell,* she
figured. *There's nothing to lose...*
The smoke rose and swirled around Riala, gathering as if on
command. If Jessica had been unsure about the nature of Riala,
this display changed her mind.
Riala gave Jessica an impish smile, and said, simply, "Granted."
Then, along with the smoke, she blew away, evaporating with the
wind. When Jessica looked back at the counter, the stopper was
back in the bottle. She rubbed it once more, out of curiosity.
Nothing.
Shrugging, she placed it up on a shelf for display.
And then, she waited.
----
And waited.
For six weeks, she looked for some sign that her wish had been
granted, but nothing. She tried rubbing the bottle again, but
nothing that way, either. No Riala, no pleasure. Not a spark.
On the other hand, she began to learn the joys of masturbation.
Now that the door had been opened, she spent every moment she
could playing with her pussy. And thanks to the beauty of the
djinn, she found her thoughts turning to women more and more.
She began to read books from the Psychology/Lifestyle section
dealing with love and fantasies. She ordered books on
self-pleasure from her distributor, and began buying toys.
Words like cunt, asshole, tits, dildo... were all new to her
vocabulary, and were all becoming suddenly, magically, a part of
her life.
Saturday evening rolled around, and she closed the shade on the
door, placing the closed sign on the window. She slowly
undressed, sitting in her chair behind the counter so as not to
be seen. It gave her a delicious thrill to know that people
walking by outside were so close, and yet unknowing of the
sexual depravity so close to them.
She reached down and unlocked her treasure chest, pulling out a
slender vibrator and what was called an "Anal Finger." Tonight
she was going to take yet another new step into her discovery of
bodily pleasure.
She began to circle her clit slowly, savoring the growing
tingle, and the little jolts of pleasure as she pressed in,
letting it pop out from under her finger. Mewling with delight,
and becoming unaware of her surroundings, she opened a bottle of
olive oil and used her finger to lubricate her asshole.
She shivered in delight at the pleasure and of it.
Instead of guilt, she felt a heady rebellion as she pictured
making love to a beautiful woman who knew her every pleasure
spot. Trembling, she placed the slender anal vibrator in and
turned it on as she sat. If she had questioned why it would be
good before, she didn't now.
Picking up the wand, she turned it on and teased her clit.
Sitting on the finger, she took a finger and tasted her own
juices for the first time. She swooned with delight as the
vibrations coursed through her belly, longer waves as the two
instruments moved in and out of sync.
She began to grind her hips, her finger, pleasure
spreading through her as she moved up the hill of the incredible
roller coaster of orgasm.
He mewling changed to guttural moans as she let the last of her
inhibitions go, her body lunging in wanton need.
"Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes," she mumbled breathily as she
moved closer and closer to the addicting pleasure of her
unbridled lust.
Her hand grabbed the counter and she looked up from her chair
and nearly had a cardiac arrest when she saw a woman standing
there.
"And to think I was only going to buy a book," said the woman,
smiling.
Jessica nearly fell off the chair and stumbled to get dressed,
mumbling apologies and generally looking like she had just
committed a murder.
"No, no, love. It was *hot*," whispered the woman.
Jessica continued to look down, still humiliated that she was
caught... and that she had forgotten to lock the door.
"Aw, so cute," continued the woman. She seemed to consider
something, her eyes twinking, and then she said, "Maybe I should
go outside and announce it, though. This was quite a display. I
could sell tickets."
Jessica looked at her in sudden, choking fear and panic.
"Nooo..." she said, but it only came out as a whisper.
"Well, maybe I won't... but you have to promise to be a good
girl. And you have to go out with me tonight."
There really wasn't any other choice.
----
And what a night it was. Amanda, the woman who had discovered
her and then blackmailed her into a date, took her to "The
Wire," a club on the outskirts of town. As she walked in, her
eyes nearly popped out of her head.
They were greeted by a woman wearing a black leather corset, a
leather g-string, some kind of clamps on her nipples, and black
knee-high platform boots. She stared at the clamps, feeling
sympathy pains as she thought about how they must feel.
Amanda was quick to notice and said, "I see you like nipple
clamps. I have a pair, if you'd like to wear them."
Shaking her head no emphatically, she followed Amanda deeper
into the club.
She'd never seen anything like it. Women were sliding over each
other, dressed in leather and latex, openly kneeling before each
other, kissing, feeling, fingering, moaning and dancing. It was
like an orgy just beneath the surface of dancing and lights.
She had a glass of wine, and came to the conclusion that she
might as well enjoy herself, since she really had no choice but
to be here.
Amanda kept her to herself all night long, and as the evening
progressed, she became more and more grateful. She turned out to
be not only beautiful, but intelligent, sexy... and demanding.
Something in the way she simply assumed control made Jessica
want to stay with her, please her. It aroused her. It made her
hot as hell.
After a few glasses of wine, she was dancing like everyone
else, sliding up and down Amanda's body, as Amanda purred and
smiled... sending a shiver over her skin and a puddle to her
panties.
She didn't even object when Amanda placed a collar on her neck,
and secured it with a lock. She was completely enamored. She was
insatiably horny. She was completely unable to stop. It had all
happened so gradually, that she had hardly noticed her own
objections. Here, somehow, it all seemed so normal.
By the time Amanda informed Jessica that she would be going
home with her tonight, she didn't even have a second thought.
----
J lovingly licked the boots of her Mistress, carefully and
completely covering them with kisses and adoration. Soon,
Mistress would allow her the pleasure of moving upward, and then
again, until she was servicing her owner with such focus that
she was almost in a trance.
Finally, she felt the tug of the chain that ran to her nipple
rings, the sign that she could proceed to Mistress's thighs.
She lovingly licked and kissed as the aroma of her Life entered
her and made her swoon with passion. Mistress was horny today. J
was happy. Life was good.
In the year since that first night at the club, so much had
changed. Mistress had opened her eyes to her essence, to what
lived in her blood. She was born to be a slave. She saw it, now.
She felt nothing but love for Mistress, and even with every
lick, as instructed, she thought the words, "I love you."
She felt another tug and moved inward to the hot wetness that
was her home and her deepest yearning.
She had even lost forty pounds, fitting easily into a size six
now, when she was allowed to wear a dress. It was rare. Since
selling the bookstore to Peter, she didn't have nearly as much
need to go out. Leaving her had been tough, but it had
been done.
It was what Mistress wanted.
She placed her tongue on Mistress's sweet and lapped up
the length, savoring the permission as much as the taste and
pleasure. A soft sigh from Mistress was reward enough to know
that she was doing what she was here for... any pleasure
Mistress wanted or needed.
Suckling the clit and flicking with her tongue, she delighted
in the spasms that moved through Mistress's legs, and felt the
tug on the chain connected to her butt plug that told her
Mistress was about to cum.
Moving with the ferocity of a huntress, she attacked and bit
Mistress's clit, her hand moving to her own dripping cunt... a
sight that would send Mistress over the top and into paradise.
Her orgasm overtook her before she felt it coming... when
allowed to with Mistress, it was beyond anything she had
every known or could want... and as she felt Mistress's legs
close on her head, directing her to stop, she collapsed in joy
and abandon as the aftershocks and warmth of perfect love filled
her.
----
She was sleeping, dreaming, when the djinn returned to her.
She remembered their first meeting and smiled. Mistress would
not be upset at this dream.
"So, J, your wish has come true. I always keep my promise. And
for you, no tricks. I've come for my only payment... your
thanks."
"But... you didn't grant my wish! Not that I'd want you to,
now. My life is not where it was, and I would wish only to
please my Mistress."
"No," argued Riala, "I gave you exactly what you wrote down!"
"I wrote, 'successful behavior in business,' and not only do I
not have a business, I'm a slave to Mistress Amanda. Not that
I'm complaining. I'm glad you didn't do anything."
"What?!?" cried Riala. "'Successful behavior in business'? I
thought you wrote 'Sexual slavery and fitness'!
"Damn, more than a hundred smoke readings in a year and my eyes
play tricks. I think I need to go get a cup of coffee..."
And with that, Riala disappeared in a puff of smoke.
J smiled and dreamed of Mistress.
----
Please send any comments to cats_sara@yahoo.com. Please put the
name of this in the subject line. Thanks for reading!
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