Some of the readers on this site have been following the Slaves of the Amethyst sage that I have been posting and have been kind enough to make positive comments on it. However there is a problem since the entire sage is currently a three volume novel of over one hundred and fifty chapters and the section of the tale that I’ve included on the site comes close to the beginning of the second volume. As a result much of the preceding story has been naturally missed out and some readers have asked me to fill in the background to the story so far so as to better understand the convolutions of wha... Continue»
WANTED: Responsible person to house sit over summer,weekends only while f****y is away on educational trips. Would suit student seeking part-time vacation employment and a place to study in quite solitude. Please reply: Box XX0143
When Jennifer first saw the ad she didn't think much of it, but after thinking it over some she dashed out a brief note introducing herself, with her college tutor's references and forgot all about it. So it was a surprise when she received an invitation from "Mr. Simpson" to visit and discuss the position.
Mr. Simpson and his wife were a typical middle-class well-to-do f****y, three k**s, two cars in the garage, good jobs. He'd welcomed Jennifer in and showed her around after which he and his wife conducted their interview. This lasted an hour, of questions, a phone call to her college tutor and general chat. After they'd made it clear that Jennifer couldn't bring any boyfriends to the house, and that there were security cameras in to prevent thefts they offered her the job. She accepted and they agreed that she'd start the very next weekend.
The First Weekend
Jennifer arrived in good time to see the Simpsons off on their picnic. Mrs. Simpson said they'd probably be back late Sunday, take care of the house and relax! After waving them good-bye Jennifer went inside to familiarize herself with the layout and the food. It was at the end of her tour of the house, munching her way through a sandwich, that she let herself into the basement and found the machine.
It wasn't concealed or anything, and was clearly marked "Jessica 3000" but she just couldn't figure out what it was supposed to be. Shrugging her shoulders she returned upstairs and dug out her school work.
After her schoolwork and still curious about the machine she returned to the basement and tried to figure it out. It looked like some kind of drill or lathe bench, a huge pointed steel rod projected from one end into the centre of a space, where, she guessed the wood would go?
Caressing the rod, she imagined other things such a shaft could be used for, her free hands dipping between her legs to rub gently over her mound.
Eventually she gave up and returned upstairs.
When the Simpsons returned the next day she'd forgotten all about the machine in the basement and returned back to the small apartment she shared with two other girls.
The Second Weekend
Jennifer was trembling slightly in excitement when she waved good-bye to the Simpsons on the second weekend - she knew what a Jessica 3000 was!
During the week she'd remembered the strange machine in their basement and made a search on the internet. There she'd read stories, very wicked, very exciting stories of Girls, not ordinary girls but slaves, girls who gave themselves to men as slaves and allowed men to do anything they wanted to the girls - including mounting them on "special" machines, including a Jessica 3000.
For the rest of the week she'd been both excited by and dreading the coming weekend, would she be able to contain herself, what would happen? In the end nothing unusual did happen and after the Simpsons left for their community picnic with a group of other friends and their families she'd been alone.
At first it'd been easy but the thought of the machine in the basement couldn't be ignored. And she was alone, and she was excited. In the end she just threw her books aside, and dashed downstairs to look it over for the first proper time.
She was trembling when she reached the basement and walked around the machine. There it was, she saw now, the spike to drive through willing girls, she imagined what it would be like, receiving it in her own young cunt, the straps to hold a girl in position so it could push right through to her open mouth, her own mouth opened in reflex to the thought as her hands caressed and squeezed her own body, arousing her further.
She bit her lips in though, dare she? There was no one around, there'd be nobody around until tomorrow night. She reached out to hold the tip of the huge steel spike.
Almost involuntarily her hands pushed her clothes off. She didn't even think about it, so excited was she, until she was nude in the cool air of the basement. Still touching herself, her nipples, her sex, she leaned against the machine for a moment letting the thought overcome her, and a moment later she lifted her leg up and over.
She knelt there in the basement, naked, straddling the gutting tray, leaning slowly back until the steel rod was pressed against her behind. All the while she caressed her breasts and fingered herself between her legs.
"God" she thought, "what am I doing?" Her breath coming shorter by the moment as she dropped down to all fours and pushed herself back on the rod with a yell!
Her schoolwork forgotten, she spent much of the weekend in the basement mounting and riding that huge steel rod. Each time she'd press herself a little harder, try a little deeper to take as much of it as she could and would then ride herself to orgasm, her young breasts waving in the air below her occasionally slapping the gutting tray where, if it was really used on her, she fantasized, her own guts would be spilt from her slit belly.
In each of her fantasy rides the one thrill that went through her mind was what would happen if the Simpsons made a sudden unexpected return. Would they find her here, naked, helpless in her fantasy, open to anything they wanted to do to her.
It was only at the very last moment that she remembered the Simpsons and to clean and oil the rod before they returned.
The Third Weekend
On the third weekend the Simpsons had called her and asked if she's be able to come over on Friday as they were taking a longer weekend trip.
Happy to do so she almost raced to their house that night, trying her damnedest to avoid trembling with excitement on her arrival while they finished loading the car and departed.
Throughout the week before Jennifer had researched the Jessica and explored her own growing fantasies of riding it "for real".
As soon as the Simpsons disappeared down the street she dashed down to the basement. "Two whole days, and you're all mine" she grinned and pulled her clothes off in preparation.
As she was stripping she noticed that Mr. Simpson had been working and must have left things out. There were various electrical tools and things lying around his workbench. Also the Jessica itself had been modified, extra straps added just where, in all the illustrations she'd seen a slave's shoulders and legs would be strapped into place, preventing their escape.
Her mind raced over her fantasies, of being bound tight and helpless when she spotted the cable ties. She seized them and held them up for inspection. Carrying them across to the Jessica she began looping them around her wrists behind her back.
A moment later and Jennifer was straddling the Jessica, back arched, her wrists tied tight and legs spread as she thrust herself onto the rod.
For Jennifer this was one of the most exciting, happiest and sexiest weekends in her short young life. She spent almost all her time in the basement, riding and playing with the Jessica, most of it with her wrists bound and helpless as she pleasured herself as often and as deep as she could, trying every position she could imagine to extract that extra pleasure from the long rod.
It was with some regret that she left when the Simpsons returned home, but they did promise she'd been needed again the following weekend.
The Fourth Weekend
On the fourth weekend Jennifer was ready. Nothing was going to stop her enjoying every moment on the Jessica. She wore only strapless sandals and a slip dress, modest but very easy to strip off, so that the moment the Simpsons were gone she could abandon herself to her carnal pleasures.
Fortunately Mr. Simpson hadn't noticed the missing cable ties, which she'd had to cut off after her pleasures the previous week. She even knew where he kept them and soon she was tugging them tight on her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back and, her shoulders pulled back, thrusting her breasts out.
She's also noticed a small radio on the workbench and switched it on to give her some music to "dance" with.
Straddling the Jessica, Jennifer was soon bumping and grinding her pelvis to the best of the music, accompanied by the pounding of her own racing heartbeat and gasps of pleasure as she began to rise up on Jessica's steel rod.
Which is why she was totally shocked and chilled when a man's hand slapped her down hard on the back of her neck and pressed her down as the shoulder strap was quickly fastened over her to pin her in place.
"Mr. Simpson!" She cried.
The man leaned over her for a moment. "Well, well, I knew something was wrong a couple of weeks ago." he sniffed. "A scent in the air I've only ever known from my wife, of hot pussy." He glanced aside. Jennifer tried to turn, just seeing the legs of Mrs. Simpson as she descended the stairs.
"I've left the c***dren at Mr. Graves's for the night my love." She crossed to join her husband who had briskly thrown a restraining bar down over Jennifer's legs pinning them down.
"Good, then," he slapped Jennifer's raised rump, "we can give our Jennifer a really good ride."
"Please, Mr. Simpson, I didn't, I'm sorry, please let me go!"
"Sorry c***d but for you your regular life is over, in fact if we don't get a really good performance from you on Jessica here this will be your final performance."
Mrs. Simpson leaned down to explain in Jennifer's ear. "You see my c***d, we TOLD you about the security cameras, but we didn't mention the special ones down here. My husband and I like to play as I'm his sworn Dolcett Girl, but now you've shown such eagerness to play we're going to try Jessica out on you."
"And," Mr. Simpson added, "we're going to record every single moment on the cameras we've installed down here, and which have recorded every minute of your adventures for the last three weekends."
"But, but, you'll snuff me!!"
Click, she heard it but didn't believe it. The Jessica was starting! She felt the pulsating, stimulating throb through the rod and it began to move forward.
She tried to pull away, just as she'd ridded back and forward on the rod before, but now, with the straps holding her down she could only buck her hips, which rubbed her sex on the rod even more, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't avoid the pleasure.
She tried to scream, to beg, to plead for her life, but all the Simpsons did was to undress each other with loving hands, and smiles at her distress.
The Simpsons had stepped back into the shadows letting the light in the room fall on Jennifer as she rode and rode Jessica. They'd set it for slow penetration, inching inwards slowly, fraction by fraction, watching as Jennifer first bucked with resistance, then with orgasm.
The throb of the machine went on for ages. They were amazed as how deep it penetrated before Jennifer came for one final orgasm and her heart gave way in a final convulsion.
"Mmm, half an hour," Mrs. Simpson commented. "Longer than the last house sitter."
"And the tapes will make excellent entertainment in the far east." her husband commented, handling his erect cock for her to bend over the still warm body and receive it from behind. He thrust. "Enough for a new car, and a few weekend trips."