The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

That night, Kristen took me to “our” apartment. I was surprised to see that the work that she designed for it was mostly complete. The only thing that was the same from the original apartment was the color scheme in the living room. Apparently, Harry unpacked Kristen’s suitcases since I didn’t see them in the apartment.

As part of the renovation, the appliances in the kitchen were replaced with ones of a more professional quality. The refrigerator no longer contained a freezer on top, but was a wide side-by-side model with a dispenser for water and ice in the heavy brushed metal door. The kitchen also sported a new stove that burned gas, augmented with one of those new microwave ovens on one of the new, larger counters.

The kitchen expanded into the former apartment next door, and now contained what Kristen called an “island” in the middle of it that contained a lot of counter space and an extra sink with a garbage disposal in the middle. Surrounding the island were a few stools which created an informal eating area within the kitchen.

Beyond the kitchen, into the counterpart of our living room in the second apartment, was a combination pantry and hallway, which led to a formal dining room. The centerpiece of the dining room was a large table made of cherry wood with a finish was almost as shiny as glass. Six chairs with tall backs were set at the table, and there was room to expand the table to fit a party of twelve people comfortably. The dining room also sported a matching wall unit that contained a set of china on display.

The dining room also connected back to the living room in the original apartment area, and a hallway led to a guest bedroom and a private bath.

Back in the original apartment, there was a new, enlarged bedroom, which now contained its own private bathroom. There was also the king sized bed that Kristen and I already gave good use to.

Throughout the new apartment was a set of intercoms that would allow either of us to contact the other, no matter where in the apartment the other person would be. It was on a separate and private circuit from the house security intercom; the latter was also accessible from the entire apartment as well.

The carpet was now a full shag carpet throughout the entire apartment, with the exception of the kitchen which was decked out with Italian tile.

“Wow,” I gushed after Kristen gave me the grand tour. “I saw some of this before Christmas, but it’s done now!”

“Well, it’s nearly done,” Kristen said proudly. “As of tonight, it’s ours. It’s no longer my playroom, but our apartment. I’m living here until we get married, when we will pick out our own property. Your parents have already given tentative permission for you to live here if you want, but they’d prefer you to stay at home occasionally, at least for the next year. And I have to show you the one Christmas present that is still not completely ready.”

Another present? I smiled, wondering what kind of new suit that Kristen bought for me.

Instead of leading me to the bedroom, she led me out of the apartment down a set of stairs opposite to the ones we normally climb to go into the apartment. They led into the back of the three-car garage. When Kristen turned on the light, however, I saw new rooms partitioned into what used to be the back of the garage.

Each of the rooms in that back area were about the size of Kristen’s original living room; about a thousand square feet apiece.

“What’s happening here?” I asked.

Kristen smiled. “I’m going to make this room soundproof. It’s going to be your studio!”

I wasn’t sure I was hearing Kristen correctly. “A studio, like an apartment for me, or do you mean like a music studio?”

“Music studio,” Kristen said proudly. “I figured we could put in some shag carpeting, and panel the walls with stuff like in the practice rooms at school for soundproofing...”

This was getting very worrisome to me. “Kris! I don’t need you to do all this for me. I mean... I love what you did to the apartment, but this is too much.”

Kristen looked at me, and then said, “All right. I haven’t done anything here because I needed your input. Let’s put it off a while. In the meantime, we can put in something simple such as a piano or something. Let it be your place where you can doodle in private.”

I shook my head. “I already have that. The keyboard you gave me from Sludge has a jack where I can plug my Sennheiser headphones in. That’s as much privacy as I need... at least for now.”

Kristen was silent a few minutes. I was about to say something when she said, “All right. But this room will be here, whether you choose to use it or not.”

I sighed. I hated spoiling Kristen’s surprises, but I really disliked her spending money on me like that. I wasn’t interested in being the beneficiary of all of Kristen’s money. Sherry’s outburst a few months ago about me loving Kristen only because of her money made me very sensitive to that sort of thing.

Kristen saw my expression and explained, “This garage was always too large, so I asked Daddy if he’d mind if I took it over and built him another one, only one story but still fitting three cars. In return, this whole building becomes mine until I get my own place. This room is just a part of the garage; we will still have room to put our cars in it. The extra space can be a studio for you, and maybe something else. Let’s call it the new playroom, OK? I ran out of discretionary funds for 1974, but we’re now in 1975, and next month is my eighteenth birthday, so I would have been able to actually complete the next part, since it will be so expensive.”

“What is the next part?” I asked.

Kristen pointed to a wall with a blocked doorway. “In your studio, I was going to put in some multi-track tape decks, a mixer, and some other stuff. I’ll talk with some of the guys in the jazz band who know recording to get a feel for what would be good to put here. It may not be anything like a professional studio, but you would have been able to record something better than you were able to do at school.”

“You planned this for me?”

Kristen looked at me strangely. “Everything I do from now on is for you, Jim. My last fling for myself was that trip to Austria. From now on, it will be you and us. Right now, music is important to you, and I want to do everything I can to support you with that. This could be a place for you to compose, practice, and eventually record stuff. The entire building will be ours once my dad’s new garage is built. That construction actually started and should be completed in less than a month. The new driveway to the new garage will require us to wait until the ground thaws, but Daddy told me it should only take a little more than a week. He already has the contractors signed up.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, unable to come up with any words that would let Kristen know how touched I was by her generosity.

Kristen put her arms around me. “Hmm, I have some ideas. Thank you, Kristen. I love you, Kristen. Let’s fuck, Kristen!”

I continued to stare at the studio when Kristen’s words hit me. “Thank you, Goddess. I love you, my fair lady. Let’s make love, my favorite vixen! But first, I want to make something completely clear...” I knew I was starting to sound like ex-President Nixon, but I continued. “I will NEVER fuck you just because you gave me something. I will definitely fuck you because I love you. Is that clear?”

Kristen giggled. “You have such a wonderful way with words, Master.”

“Master?” I repeated.

“Think of me as if I were your little genie in a bottle. Like the old TV show.”

I looked at Kristen and smiled, thinking of her in that silky sheer outfit that Barbara Eden wore.

“Kristen, I can’t treat you like a genie or as a slave. I want to be as much yours as you say you are mine.”

Kristen didn’t answer, but she hugged me tightly.

I was surprised when Kristen then bent down and picked me up. “You got to carry me through the threshold, Jim. If we’re going to be equals, then I’m carrying you over the threshold this time!”

Without so much as a grunt, Kristen managed to pick me up, carry me back up the stairs and into our apartment and into the master bedroom. She deposited me on the bed, and with surprising quickness, she got something out of a dresser drawer, and then got on top of me and pinned me.

Before I knew what was happening, Kristen took two stockings, and had tied them to my wrists and then to the headboard. She then quickly pulled down my pants and boxers, and tied my legs to the posts of the bed.

Kristen got up. I was nude from the waist down and tied spread-eagle to the bed. She admired her handiwork and said, “Well, I’m going out to the living room to watch some television. Too bad you can’t come with me, SLAVE!”

Slave? Hadn’t Kristen just called me Master a few moments ago? I was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Shut up, Slave,” Kristen said, her eyes telling me that she was not kidding right now. “If you want to be as much mine as I am yours, then you will have to start calling me Mistress. Each time you don’t, you will be punished.”

“Kristen, what the hell...”

Kristen’s eyes flashed her anger at me and I shut up. Kristen looked around the room and her eyes settled on a fly swatter that was hanging on the wall. She grinned evilly and retrieved it, and then, without warning, slapped it on my right thigh.

“OW!” I cried, more in surprise than in pain. In all fairness to Kristen, she didn’t seem to try to hurt me.

“That’s ‘Ow, Mistress!’ to you!” Kristen said, and she hit my other thigh.

“OW!” I repeated, and then remembered. “I mean, ow, Mistress!”

“Good, you are learning,” Kristen said, playfully hitting her left palm with the swatter. “OK. Here’s the deal. You refused to be my Master, and said you wanted us to be equals. The only way we can be equals and that I can have you as my Master is for me to become your mistress once in a while, and I guess it’s time for you to learn how I want to be treated when you do become my Master. Do you understand?”

“I guess so,” I said. I hated listening to this twisted logic, but at the moment, I didn’t have any choice.

Kristen swatted her palm again, menacingly.

“I guess so, Mistress,” I corrected myself.

“Good,” Kristen grinned. “Here’s the deal. The next time I call you Master, you will have a choice. Either you order me around and have sex with me, or you can refuse. If you refuse, I’ll be your Mistress, and I’ll have sex with you. Complete equals.”

That didn’t sound very fair. “You mean...”

“Yes. You blew it today, so I’m your Mistress,” Kristen said, her eyes grinning, but her look still serious. “I’m going to let you think about this. When I’m good and ready, I’ll return.”

Kristen left me alone at that point, leaving me to think of her version of “fairness.” If she wants sex, she’ll call me Master, and I’ll take her. If I don’t respond as her Master, then she’ll take over as my Mistress, and she’ll take me. In other words, when Kristen wants sex, Kristen will get sex.

This setup didn’t seem very fair to me. The unfair point was that I wasn’t being consulted. Whether or not I wanted sex when Kristen wanted it, she’d get it. This was the sort of thing that bothered me about Kristen’s insistence that we would be spending our lives together. It wasn’t a terrible thing, but I wanted to have some say in the matter.

If this choice was offered to me a couple of months ago, I would have gone along with it. After all, a guy would do anything to have sex with somebody like Kristen, right?

But now, there were other thoughts. For instance, what if I wanted sex and she didn’t want it? If I were to reverse our roles, I could make her have sex with me at my own whim. What was the difference between that and rape? Wasn’t that one of the big problems with the tickets, that the people that received them didn’t have any say in the matter?

Then again, Kristen was indeed a special case. She was obligated to have my cock and sperm on a regular basis, and the only person to blame for this was me. Maybe this was Kristen’s subtle way of getting even with me.

Thinking about Kristen’s addiction led to a new train of thought. If Kristen’s “Master and Slave” game was unfair to me, how fair was Kristen’s addiction to her? I mean, given that Kristen had this addiction, what if I suddenly choose never to allow Kristen access to those things she craves? I saw her strung out like a junkie when she originally received her addiction; it occurred to me that I could do this again. What would happen? Looking at how Kristen was going to play her game with me, it seemed like if she couldn’t get her fix from me willingly, she might take it from me unwillingly! Was this fair—to me as well as to her? I shuddered at this thought and abandoned this line of thinking.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to have any sort of intellectual discussion with Kristen. I was the one that was tied up, spread-eagle to her bed, and Kristen was out of the room. She was definitely calling the shots right now, and there was no way for me to deny this plain fact.

It was true that Kristen liked playing games in bed, and that this could be just another game to her. If so, it wouldn’t hurt for me to play along.

After a few minutes, Kristen came back into the room. “You’ll eat me, and you will bring me to three orgasms. They need to be big ones. Until I get my quota, I’ll suck you but I won’t let you shoot off. Now, you know and I know that my biggest orgasms are when I’m can taste you, so you’re going to have to work extra hard.”

“How long do I have... Mistress?” I asked, playing along with the game.

“As long as it takes. I’ll stay here until I get my quota. If it takes you an hour, I’ll be happy, and then I’ll swallow your cum and I’ll untie you. If it takes you two days, I’ll wait patiently.”

“But we have school tomorrow!” I protested.

Kristen grinned, and swatted me for not calling her Mistress. “You may not want to miss school, but I’m getting my quota, no matter how long you have to try. I’ve been alone in Europe for the past week, baby! I want this!”

Kristen then left the room before I could respond.

I rarely saw this side of Kristen, the dominatrix. The one time I saw her like that was when she dominated Patrice a few months before.

It was obvious that Kristen gave me a difficult task. I mean, she enjoyed it when I licked her, and she even reached orgasm as I did so, but we were usually in a sixty-nine position when I did that, and her orgasms were usually triggered by my own climax. Thanks to my stupid wish, Kristen found it difficult to reach orgasm without my sperm in her mouth. This may be Kristen’s subtle way of getting even with me for making that wish.

Despite the fact that Kristen hit me three times with the fly swatter, she didn’t use anything close to the amount of strength that she could have put behind it. The intent wasn’t really to inflict real pain, but to show me how she wanted me to dominate her when our roles would eventually be reversed.

I smelled and heard Kristen cooking something in the kitchen. About twenty minutes later, Kristen reappeared in the bedroom with a small plate with a pile of what looked like shredded potatoes on it.

When Kristen came back into the bedroom, she explained, “It’s called rössti. It’s a delicious dish that I had when I was on my trip. It’s a simple recipe, really: butter and potatoes, topped with a little sour cream.” She ate a forkful and gave an appreciative “Umm” in response. “I wanted to make this for you, today, but I guess you’ll be eating something else right now, huh? Like me!”

Kristen ate another couple of forkfuls, and I could feel my mouth salivate over the aroma. For the simple dish that Kristen described, it smelled quite wonderful. I only ate a sausage grinder at dinner, and I was still a bit hungry.

My girlfriend put the plate down on the dresser and shrugged off her robe. “I guess I’m ready for my slave to work off his punishment.”

Without any fanfare, Kristen climbed into the bed, her feet toward the headboard, and straddled my face. My dick grew erect in anticipation of one of her lovely blow jobs, but Kristen didn’t lean over me. I inhaled Kristen’s musk for the first time in a week, and eagerly started licking the folds of her labia, and moved my tongue up and down, seeking to coax her clitoris from its hiding place. I thrust my tongue deep into her hole, and licked up and down until I felt the presence of her perky nub on my tongue.

Kristen adjusted her position, and soon I felt her lips engulf my cock. Hell, I thought to myself, I could imagine worse punishments than having your cock sucked by an expert and licking my lover’s twat. I continued to move my tongue about with renewed vigor. I felt some response as Kristen wiggled her hips to help my tongue reach the proper spot.

After a few minutes, I felt some reflexive movements between Kristen’s legs, recognizing an early sign of her release. I was amazed that I might actually make Kristen reach orgasm without my sperm in my mouth. At about this same time, Kristen stopped sucking me, lazily rubbing the tip of my cock with her tongue. I knew that she didn’t have any intention of allowing me to ejaculate until I gave her the requisite number of orgasms.

It took another couple of minutes, but Kristen’s movements started getting more erratic. Despite my tongue starting to get tired, I continued to thrust it into her snatch, trying to pull that first, difficult orgasm from her. Her thighs were squeezing me, and my cock was once again inside her mouth, although it was just a gentle suckle on the head of my cock while avoiding the tender area at the bottom. This was Kristen’s way of sucking me for long periods of time without actually making me come.

Recognizing that Kristen was not going to allow me to shoot off, I determined that I’d draw out an orgasm of sufficient size from her. I did have a few months’ experience in this position, and I was determined to make this as big as possible for Kristen.

Since Kristen was determined to not allow me to come until I brought out three “big” orgasms, I continued alternating between licking her folds, thrusting my tongue deep inside her, and sucking her clitoris between my lips.

Thankfully, the wish that limited Kristen’s orgasms stated that she needed to have either my dick or my sperm in her mouth. Although I never knew Kristen to have an orgasm in this position without me coming first, I knew it was still possible, since she did have my cock in her mouth. I’ve also been able to bring her to orgasm without my dick or sperm in her mouth, but it wasn’t easy. Anyway, I realized that as long as she continued to suck me, no matter how softly, I might be able to give her orgasms of a sufficient strength. At least, that was my hope.

I continued to tickle around Kristen’s sensitive bud without actually touching it directly with my tongue except for infrequent and random touches. Kristen’s contractions slowly started turning into spasms. She pressed her thighs tightly against my head, making it difficult for me to gauge accurately the size of her orgasm.

Blindly, I continued licking, despite Kristen’s continued pressing of her thighs against my ears, forcing my tongue to continue playing with her sensitive nub more frequently now. It was difficult, although not impossible for me to breathe, but for me that was secondary. I was determined to make her come, even if it killed me.

A period of time passed, and it was getting more and more difficult to get air in through my nose due to the tightness of Kristen’s legs around my head. I suddenly felt massive warmth on my member, and felt my cock easily slip into Kristen’s throat. In response, I thrust my hips up toward her and then away from her, feeling my cock move in and out of her mouth, my cock by now over-sensitized.

Almost without any warning to either me or to Kristen, I started pumping into Kristen’s mouth. I felt her cheeks rubbing against the side of the head of my cock as she applied an incredible amount of suction, sending wave after wave of pleasure through my body.

Through all this, my tongue continued its onslaught of Kristen’s slit. Somehow, Kristen managed to wiggle her clitoris out of direct contact with my tongue, but I continued to probe in the direction where I thought it was, hoping that I’d be able to stimulate it at least indirectly.

After an unknown amount of time, my dick stopped pulsing. I could no longer tell if anything was still coming out, but once again, I could tell that I was deep inside Kristen’s throat, which meant that I was no longer pumping actively. I wondered if my Goddess would be able to breathe with me so deep inside her for so long, but I didn’t sense any kind of panic from her. In fact, her legs continued clamping tightly around my ears and she wiggled her crotch left and right in a vain attempt to evade my probing tongue.

Finally, Kristen pulled her head off my dick, and I felt the cool air hit its saliva slick shaft. The tightness against my head disappeared, and Kristen rolled off my body.

I turned my head toward Kristen, my arms still bound by those silly stockings. I wanted so much to pull her back to me and lavish her lovely crotch with thousands of tiny kisses. Instead, I could see her fine blonde hairs that did nothing to hide her very swollen cunt lips. I cold even see Kristen’s normally hidden clit at the edge, looking like a delicious morsel just right for licking.

I extended my tongue, but Kristen’s crotch was too far away for me to reach. Even so, Kristen saw my movement and instinctively pulled her crotch further away.

“That... that was...” Kristen sounded breathless.

“That was what... Mistress?” I asked, almost forgetting my role in this little game we were playing.

“That was in-fucking-credible! I never thought you could...” Kristen’s words died off.

I continued to watch Kristen’s lovely crotch, now excessively far away for me to reach. Her tummy moved slowly in and out with each breath, and it took me a few minutes before I realized that Kristen was asleep.

Great! Here I was, tied up spread eagle to a bed with the girl of my dreams sleeping next to me.

I examined the stockings that bound me to the bed. The knots were simple overhand knots, and if I pulled on them, they should release easily. Actually, it wasn’t as easy as I originally thought, since pulling on them seemed to just tighten the knots. It took a couple of minutes, but I was eventually able to get the right one off.

With my one hand free, I carefully rolled over to free the hand closer to Kristen. She didn’t awake, and I was able to sit up and untie my legs.

I had to admit that the orgasms I had today were probably the largest that I ever experienced in my short sexual life. Between the one in the changing room and my most recent one, it seemed as if my balls generated a quart of semen, an amount that I knew was an exaggeration. Still, the amount that I must have unleashed was almost definitely a record for me.

Tenderly, I tapped Kristen on the shoulder, but she didn’t respond. This surprised me, as she’s usually a light sleeper, and I expected her to wake up when I tapped her. It then occurred to me that she might be exhausted from her trip to Europe, so I got out of the bed when she didn’t move.

I saw the plate of potatoes, and I took a forkful, ignoring the fact that Kristen already used that fork. I long ago lost any squeamishness about getting germs from Kristen, and neither of us saw any problems with French kissing, oral sex, sharing utensils, or even toothbrushes.

Despite being cold, the potatoes tasted interesting, although I would probably have added more salt. I thought about putting them into the microwave oven, but I never really used one before, and I figured I’d only end up making them inedible. I smiled, and looked back at my sleeping Goddess, her beautiful breasts moving regularly with each breath. Even passed out after an orgasm, Kristen was a wonderful thing to look at. Her disheveled hair still looked gorgeous to me, although I would imagine that Kristen would be scandalized if she could see it right now. How lucky I was to have such a lovely and sexy Goddess in love with me!

The dresser that I was standing at was the same one that Kristen retrieved her stockings from before. I opened the drawer that Kristen used, and saw a large collection of stockings and other things that Kristen referred to as her “regular lingerie”—as opposed to the exotic stuff she kept in packages on a shelf in her closet.

I thought of tying up Kristen spread-eagle as she did to me, and saw something metal at the bottom of the drawer.

Upon closer examination, I discovered there were a pair of handcuffs at the bottom of the drawer! I looked from the drawer to Kristen’s still sleeping body, and wondered. Why did she have these? Where did she get them?

An evil thought came to my mind as I picked up the handcuffs and looked back at Kristen’s unconscious form. Tie me up, would she? I’ll fix her and see how she likes it!

I put the handcuffs on a pair of Kristen’s panties on top of the headboard, using the panties to muffle the jingle of the metal.

I shook Kristen’s shoulders, but she didn’t wake up. I looked at her nervously, but saw that she was still breathing. I never saw Kristen sleep so soundly before. I rolled her onto her back, and she was now in the middle of the bed. She still didn’t wake up. Gently, I tied the two stockings that Kristen used on my legs onto her legs, using very loose knots that I didn’t want to tighten yet. She still didn’t move.

Using slow movements, I gently pulled Kristen’s arms over her head, and looked at the foot of the bed for something on which I could mount her arms. There was a rail connecting the two bedposts. I tied a stocking to that rail, using a square knot. I tied another stocking to that first stocking and then to the middle of the handcuffs, again using a secure knot.

I was finally ready. I carefully slipped the cuffs over Kristen’s wrists. They jingled as I did so, making me freeze, but she still didn’t wake up. Emboldened, I locked them gently on her wrists. Her wrists were now securely fastened.

Kristen’s legs were spread eagle on the bed with two stockings gently tied to the headboard. I tightened and secured the knots and finally I knew that my lovely Goddess was firmly tied to the bed. When she woke up, she would be in for a surprise!

I left my lovely Goddess tied up and walked into the kitchen. I opened the freezer door and found the ice tray, which was full of ice made automatically by the ice maker. I took a nice long sliver and grinned evilly.

Back in the bedroom, Kristen was still asleep. I thought that she made such a fetching image there, and considered, but finally rejected, the idea of getting her Polaroid camera and snapping a few candid shots. Who would I show them to? If Kristen was serious about this master/slave thing, I could do this as often as I wanted. I briefly thought of taking a picture just to threaten her with showing it to somebody, but that thought was easily rejected. Since the two of us became lovers, I never felt the need to really threaten her, kidding or not. I wasn’t about to start now.

I finished Kristen’s rössti, deciding that I actually liked it, and probably would like it even more if it were warmer. I then took the sliver of ice that I retrieved from the kitchen, and touched Kristen’s right nipple. In the dim light of the room, I couldn’t see the nipple get erect, the skin around it being so dark, but I could feel it harden. Kristen shivered slightly in her sleep in reaction to the coolness of the ice, but she did not wake up. Once again, I was amazed at the soundness of Kristen’s slumber.

Intrigued, I touched Kristen’s other nipple, and got the same reaction. She still didn’t wake up. Finally, I touched the ice sliver between her legs at her labia, since her clit was no longer visible.

“Huh? Huh? What?” Kristen woke up, completely disoriented. She moved her arms and was surprised to find herself immobilized. She turned her head but her arms were above her head out of sight.

Kristen tried to get up, but her bonds kept her secure. Happy that she was now awake, I took the sliver of ice and touched between her legs once more.

“Ooh!” Kristen squealed as the cold ice touched her sensitive genitals.

I touched her with the ice again. “That’s ‘Ooh, Master!’ to you, dearie.”

Kristen shook her head and realized that I turned the tables on her. Instead of looking worried, she smiled. She shook her wrists and heard the muffled jingle of the handcuff chain between them. “You found my handcuffs?”

“Yup. Unfortunately, I didn’t see a key with them. You might be here a long time!”

“It’s in a small white envelope in the same drawer,” Kristen told me.

I didn’t bother looking. “You seem quite cheerful despite the fact that you are tied to a bed, naked, and at the whim of your Master.”

Kristen grinned. “I like it... Master.”

I nodded. “I figured you would. You broke your own rule, though.”

Looking up at me curiously, Kristen asked, “How?”

“You told me three orgasms before you’d let me come.”

Kristen laughed. “That was more like four, actually. They were multiple orgasms, I think—one right after another. That never happened to me with you before.”

“Really?” I asked.

Multiple orgasms! I hadn’t been aware of the count; it just seemed like one orgasm, albeit a rather massive one. I felt proud of myself!

I noted offhand Kristen’s use of the term “with you,” which hinted that she may have experienced multiple orgasms with another partner, which would only mean her brother. I forced that train of thought out of my mind, intent on not allowing jealousy to raise its ugly head.

Kristen nodded and got a dreamy look in her eyes. “Yeah. It was amazing. It was like having you fuck me while I sucked you... I got the sensations at both ends. And when they met...” She let the sentence just dangle there.

“Well, the next time you want to tie me up, or the next time you want me to tie you up, just let me know. I don’t know if I want to do this every day, but this is quite fun.”

“I love you, Jim.”

“I love you, Goddess.”

I was actually quite tired from our little game. I turned around and got the envelope from the bottom of Kristen’s lingerie drawer, and unlocked Kristen’s handcuffs.

Once Kristen’s arms were free, she reached up and pulled me down onto her body. “I love you, Jim,” she said after kissing me fiercely. “I’ll love you so fucking much!”

“I love you, Kristen. And I’ll love you forever.”

Kristen looked me in the eyes. I saw some expression quickly pass over her face, but her face just as quickly softened. “I truly hope you will.”

The two of us snuggled together and Kristen fell asleep once more. I figured that she must have been exhausted. I watched her breasts rise and fall as she breathed in and out, and I continued to marvel at her lovely body, watching it completely relaxed, until I fell asleep.

We both slept with our heads to the foot of the bed, and sometime that night, Kristen must have gotten out and put a blanket on my body—I might have been shivering since I prefer sleeping in a warm bed.

There was school the next day, and Kristen drove me there. Once she kissed me and headed for her homeroom, I looked around and found Patty and Camille. I jogged over to them, and asked if they were looking forward to starting school again after the holiday.

“Well, it could be worse,” Patty smiled. “It’s our last year, and it’s kind of funny, but I won’t have another Christmas vacation from high school again.”

“Not unless you flunk your subjects, or come back as a teacher,” Camille pointed out.

“Or a janitor,” I said, continuing Camille’s thought.

Patty smirked at the two of us. “Jim, I think that Camille’s a bad influence on you... you’re starting to crack jokes more often.” I saw a faraway look in Patty’s eyes. “Still, senior year is all about making memories. It’s funny, but I never really thought about memories until this year. Now, there’s a whole bunch of lasts: the last Christmas vacation, the last Valentine’s day. You know.”

I never considered that; it seemed like something that Kristen might want to talk about when we were alone. “I guess. With me it’s firsts: my first Christmas vacation, my first New Year’s. My first girlfriend...”

Patty smiled at me in an odd way. “You’re sweet, Jim. Kristen’s a lucky girl.”

“Where is Kristen, anyway?” Camille asked.

“Headed off to class,” I answered. “I just noticed that my two best friends were standing here and I had to at least say, ‘Hi!’”

“That’s the one thing you didn’t say, yet,” Camille pointed out.

“Hi!” I responded automatically.

“So, what did you get for Christmas, Jim?”

“Let’s see. An electric piano, a new suit, a tuxedo, a remodeled apartment, and the start of a music studio... and those were just from Kristen!”

The two girls’ mouths hung open.

Camille was the first to speak. “An apartment? Are you kidding?”

“She remodeled the playroom, enlarging it to eventually include the entire garage. She says it’s ours now.”

Camille looked thoughtful at that comment.

Patty finally found her voice. “And a tuxedo?”

I nodded and then sighed. “Kristen said that I’ll wear that when we get married. If not, I’ll wear it at my funeral.”

The two girls looked at each other. “Did she really say that?” Patty asked.

“Actually, she told me the first part,” I admitted. “Then I said a stupid thing, like, ‘What if I don’t get married in that tuxedo?’ and then she said the second part.”

Patty shook her head. “Jim, you can’t treat her feelings like that.”

I lowered my head. “Yeah. I regretted saying that the moment it came out of my mouth. You’re right, I might be cracking too many jokes. I think I was just trying to recover from my amazement, as well as the fact that she seems determined to spend the rest of her life with me. It sometimes feels as if I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

Patty hugged me. “It’s going very fast for you, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “As fast as Kristen in her Camaro on Dodger Road,” I quipped, a reference to a deserted road near Kristen’s house where I’ve seen her hit speeds that would frighten Mario Andretti. “Patty... Camille... I would love to spend the rest of my life just worshiping that wonderful girl. I know she feels the same way about me, but sometimes... sometimes... I just... I don’t know.”

Camille spoke up. “Jim, you have music in third period. Can you skip it?”

I shook my head. “Today’s the first day back. We’re getting the music for the spring concert. And I also need to put together a program for the jazz band.”

“After school is bad for me today... cheerleader practice,” Camille replied. “How about third period tomorrow?”

I looked at the blonde haired senior. “I’ll talk to Mr. Proilet. I skipped his class once when I was in a funk about something, but he didn’t seem to mind. He probably won’t mind if I let him know in advance.”

“I have lunch during third period,” Camille explained. “Can you meet me in the library tomorrow?”

“Sure. I’ll need a library pass...”

“I’ll take care of that. Just show up in the library for third.”

The warning bell sounded, and the three of us departed for our home rooms.

Before music class started, I explained to Mr. Proilet that I needed to use the library during class tomorrow, and without hesitation, I was given permission. Mr. Proilet also made out a library pass for me.

The day was normal until eighth period.

I entered my English class, and as usual, I said “Hi!” to Sherry before taking my seat. Even before the late bell rang, Ms. Taylor, my English teacher, called me to her desk.

“You’re constantly disrupting this class,” she said, her eyes blazing at me. “You’re on detention for the entire week.”

“Huh? What did I do?” I protested.

“You know what you did,” Ms. Taylor said. “Get back to your seat or it will be two weeks.”

I couldn’t believe it. I was on detention for the first time in my life, and I didn’t even have any idea about what I might have done wrong!

Detention meant that I would have to stay in Ms. Taylor’s classroom for an hour after school went out. Since she was my last class, I could just stay there.

This was terrible—being on detention for a week would mean that I would not be able to attend jazz band rehearsal today, where we would have to start getting ready for the spring concert.

What did I do? The only thing I did when I entered the room was to say “Hi!” to Sherry and head for my seat. I did my homework, and I thought I was doing pretty well in class, although an essay that I wrote right before vacation contained many red marks in it—nitpicking, actually. I was debating whether to discuss that with the teacher, but right now wasn’t a good time for that.

How could my teacher say that I was disrupting her class? I didn’t have any idea. I rarely talked in class, and the only thing that people giggled at (even more nowadays after the Christmas concert) was when people called me “Oogie,” but that hadn’t even happened in that class today.

When the class let out, I went over to Sherry to have her tell Kristen about my situation, but Ms. Taylor loudly told me to take my seat and to shut up.

Now, I knew that this was completely wrong! There was a ten minute period between the end of class and the start of detention to allow people to get things ready or to get to their class. Instead of arguing with the teacher, I simply ignored her and left the classroom to find Mr. Proilet. There was jazz band rehearsal after class, and I needed to let him know that I was going to miss it.

My music teacher was gathering his papers when I found him. “Mr. Proilet, it seems that I have detention for a week.”

“You?” Mr. Proilet asked, incredulously. “What did you do?”

“I’m not sure. Ms. Taylor didn’t actually say. She’s angry at me, and I won’t be able to do the jazz class today.”

My teacher looked at me and sighed. “You aren’t a bad student, Jim. Are you telling me that Ms. Taylor didn’t tell you why you were put on detention?”

“No,” I said, my anger starting to rise again. “It must be some misunderstanding, but I should be in her class right now.”

“Let me come with you,” Mr. Proilet said.

The two of us returned to my English class. When Ms. Taylor saw me, she was about to say something until she saw Mr. Proilet, who was right behind me.

“Reneé, Jim tells me that he has detention for a week.”

“Two weeks,” Ms. Taylor said. “He walked out on me after I told him to stay after class.”

“He has jazz band rehearsal after class. He came to tell me that he wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“I don’t care if your little pet here isn’t able to attend his after school activity. He’s on detention and that cancels extracurricular activities. You are quite aware of that.”

My music teacher looked at Ms. Taylor as if she grew another head. “Detention doesn’t start until ten minutes after school ends. He came back on time... I’m here with him! Would you care to discuss this with the front office?”

I saw Ms. Taylor glare at Mr. Proilet. She started to say something, but then stopped, and said, “All right. It’s one week, at least for now.”

From the sound of Ms. Taylor’s voice, I knew that she would probably find a way to extend my detention. I wondered how this situation actually started.

Looking from Ms. Taylor, to me, and then back, Mr. Proilet decided that further intrusion would be unwise. He said, “I’ll take care of the jazz band for you today, Jim.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I watched Mr. Proilet leave. After he was gone, I said, “Excuse me, Ms. Taylor, but if I have disrupted your class...”

“You know very well what you did,” Ms. Taylor snapped. “Now, shut your face, take your seat and start writing an essay about the importance of education.”

I sighed. I opened my attaché case and retrieved a pen and my notebook. I saw my roll of tickets and rejected the idea of using them on Ms. Taylor.

I did the assignment, all the while thinking about the injustice of all this.

Kristen met me after class, and she took us to our apartment. Mr. Proilet had taken her aside during the rehearsal and let her know why I wasn’t at class.

Kristen commiserated with me about the apparent injustice over what my English teacher was doing, but she couldn’t offer any advice. She also said that Mr. Proilet asked her if she wanted to perform in the spring concert as a second keyboardist. Kristen didn’t want to edge out Amy, so she didn’t give any definite answer.

I nodded and then got an idea. “What if you take the electric piano that you got me for Christmas. We would have both Amy on acoustic and you on electric. It could add a nice texture to the sound of the band.”

“I’d have to drag it back and forth on Thursdays,” Kristen pointed out.

“I’ll see if Mr. Proilet has access to a keyboard. He’s young enough, and I think I remember him telling me that he used to be in a rock band when he was in college.”

Kristen laughed at her mental image of my teacher in a rock band, but agreed that it might be a workable idea.

When we were at our apartment, Kristen took some deli-sliced roast beef from her refrigerator, some French bread, and then started making a gravy using some beef stock in a can.

Showing me the deep fryer and a bag of frozen French fries, Kristen told me to cook the fries while she prepared some sandwiches. This quick meal quickly became one of our favorites. I made her promise me that we’d have French dip sandwiches often.

I did my homework at Kristen’s apartment while Kristen lovingly sucked my cock in her slow, minimally-distracting way, and just before ten o’clock, she took me to my house.

The next day, I found Mr. Proilet before school started, and he said that he was unsuccessful in getting Ms. Taylor to reprieve me from my detention, and that if I really thought her actions were unfair, I might want to talk with the assistant principal or, even better, the principal. Mr. Proilet even offered to accompany me if I wanted.

I thanked Mr. Proilet, but decided to avoid any more confrontations with Ms. Taylor and just do my assignments after school. I also reminded him that I’d be in the library during third period, and told him about my idea of having Kristen on electric piano. Mr. Proilet lit up at my suggestion and said he had a keyboard in his attic and Kristen could plug it into one of the amplifiers we had at the school.

Sherry found me in first period and asked me what happened in English. I admitted that I had no idea and that it all seemed to have come unexpectedly. We didn’t get to talk much before History class began.

When third period arrived, Camille was near the entrance of the library. I handed my pass to the librarian, and then Camille led me to a table near the back of the room.

“We need to talk, Jim.”

“This is about Kristen, right?” I asked.

“Yes,” Camille answered. “It’s also about your Lucky Tickets.”

What the fuck? How did Camille know about them? The only people that knew were Merry, who didn’t know anything about their powers, and Patty and Kristen, who were obligated never to tell anybody.

“Jim, I know about the tickets. I have always known about them, even before you did.”

My jaw dropped to the floor. “What... What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. You gave me number six, not knowing that they don’t work on me.”

I was just too confused. “They don’t work?”

Camille sighed. “I can’t tell you too much about them. My sister Debbie owned them for a while. She gave me her first one. I saw them last August and avoided them like the plague. I saw what they did to Debbie. Now you have them.”

The story was confusing. “You avoided them?”

“I can’t say anything more about that,” Camille said, frowning. “Debbie owned them for about six years.”

“Tell me about them,” I begged.

Camille looked around the library. There wasn’t anybody else around, but she looked nervous. “Can we meet after school?”

“Usually, Kristen takes me home, but I have detention today.”

“You have detention?” Camille asked. “Whatever for?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Teacher said I was disrupting class, but all I did was say ‘Hi!’ to Sherry before class even started.”

Camille looked at me strangely. “Sherry looked upset during practice yesterday.” After a moment, Camille said, “That means you missed out on your band rehearsal, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Mr. Proilet tried to talk some sense to Ms. Taylor, but she didn’t want to hear any of it.”

“Ms. Taylor... English class?” Camille asked.

“Yeah.”

Camille shook her head. “Oh, boy. I’ll try to find Kristen and tell her that I’ll drive you home this afternoon.”

I nodded absently, and said, “Kris and I have a date tonight.”

Camille smiled and said, “I know. Kristen always gets all the hunks. We really need to talk, even if only for a couple of hours.”

“Kristen knows about the tickets.”

Camille looked at me strangely. “I didn’t know whether you’d tell her about them after what you did to her with them.”

“It’s hard to explain to a girl why she’s addicted to my cock and sperm without telling her the truth.”

Camille said, “I wish I could have warned you, Jim, but you really need to find out for yourself the problems that those tickets can cause. I didn’t even know what you did to her until the next day, when it was too late.”

I shrugged.

Camille sighed. “My sister found them when she was fourteen,” she said. “I was twelve and you were about nine. We were actually walking to your house to baby-sit you. I remember that day vividly. However, I can’t tell you more until we’re completely alone.”

“May I tell Kristen afterward?”

Camille shrugged. “Find out the story and then figure out what you’ll tell Kristen. Some parts you will probably not want to tell.”

Once again I shrugged, since I didn’t completely understand.

The class bell rang, and I headed to the lunchroom. A few minutes after I arrived, I saw Kristen and Patty walk in together. Patty went onto the serving line, and Kristen smiled at me and gave me a kiss.

“What’s up, lover?” Kristen asked.

“Camille wants to talk with me after school. Would you mind if I have her drop me off at the apartment?”

There was a sparkle in Kristen’s eyes as she answered. “Hot date at Lake Shore Point, huh?”

“I think that might be where we’ll go, but I only have eyes for you, my fair Goddess.”

That earned me a bigger kiss. Since we were in the middle of the cafeteria, we drew some attention. I could hear people saying, “Way to go, Oogie!” but I ignored them for the most part.

At our table, Patty was sitting with Toby again, and he was telling Patty about me giving him my silver trumpet and some earplugs as a present. Patty smiled at me as I approached the table with Kristen. Patty told me that she and Toby broke up, but it seemed that their friendship remained. I was happy for them.

“You weren’t in music class today,” Toby said when he noticed me.

I shrugged. “I met with somebody.”

“You weren’t at jazz band yesterday, either. Mr. Proilet has us working on Pink Panther again.”

“I’m on detention until next Wednesday,” I said.

“Ooh,” Toby said, feeling my pain. “That sucks!”

Patty looked at me. “Why are you on detention? What did you do?”

“It beats the hell out of me. It’s as if Ms. Taylor has taken a sudden dislike to me. I said ‘Hi’ to Sherry Jordan before class started, and Ms. Taylor told me that I was disrupting class and I was on detention for a week.”

“This was before class even started?” Patty asked.

“Yeah. It’s kind of crazy, actually.”

Patty seemed upset. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I’ll write essays for the next week,” I said.

Patty, Toby, and even Kristen shook their heads, but nobody had any real suggestions for me.

I found Sherry before eighth period, and told her that I wouldn’t say anything to her, so Ms. Taylor wouldn’t have anything else to pin on me. She told me she understood, and even gave me a hug in the hallway.

My essay assignment this day was to write about a happy moment that I would like to relive. The subject didn’t seem to be as punishing as the last one about the importance of education, and it didn’t take a lot of thinking for me to come up with a happy moment. In the past few months, every happy moment involved Kristen.

My mind wasn’t really on writing. Instead, I was thinking about the lingerie shows that Kristen would give me wearing high heels, fishnet stockings, garter belts, and bras that didn’t hide anything. I was thinking about last autumn, when Kris and I would lay down on a picnic blanket, reading books, doing homework, and occasionally make love. I was thinking about how lovely Kristen looked despite her disheveled appearance when she was fast asleep after I tied her up the other night.

The people in the jazz band considered Kristen to be my muse, but I think she was more than that. She was becoming my reason for living. She loved me and I loved her. No matter what could happen, even having teachers that had some weird agendas against me, we still had each other. Isn’t that love?

The one thing that bothered me was Kristen’s apparent assumption that we would get married and spend the rest of our lives together. It wasn’t that I didn’t want this myself, because I really did. Although I had few doubts and may have just wanted to keep my options open, it worried me that Kristen didn’t seem to think that any other future could be possible. I knew that I would have to talk to somebody about that, most likely Patty.

At the end of the hour, Ms. Taylor asked for my essay. I realized that I was writing while fantasizing about Kristen. I glanced at what I wrote and found that I was a bit explicit in my descriptions. Since I needed to hand my assignment to the teacher, and she asked for a description of a happy moment, I just handed it in. She made up the assignment, so I’d let her deal with it.

I left the classroom and found Camille nearby. We walked together to her car in the parking lot.

Since we were going to talk about the tickets, I figured that maybe, just maybe, I might finally make some sense of things that were happening.