Chapter 1
When sweet Jane woke up, she was naked and in bondage.
It was a most bizarre way to begin a honeymoon.
Jane was young and lovely. She was only twenty-two years old, and was a classic American beauty, with blonde hair, blue eyes and ripe red lips.
Her honey-colored hair was shot through with golden highlights. It hung in shimmering waves down to the middle of her back.
Her oval face was strikingly attractive. It had the clean lines and elegantly formed features of a high-fashion model.
But unlike the models in the fashion magazines, Jane was not thin and flat-chested. She had a voluptuous physique.
She was high-breasted and long-legged. Her body glowed with the glowing tones of good health and top conditioning.
Her breasts were luscious. They were surprisingly large for a girl whose overall frame was so lean and slender.
Her flesh was sleek and fair, with a flawless peaches-and-cream glow.
Her nipples were flat buttons of flesh on the tips of her breasts. They were a shade of soft pink, pastel in color, as were the roseates.
The roseates surrounding the nipples were the width of a twenty-five cent piece. They looked like neat pink buttons pasted to her bosom.
She had a narrow, almost a wasp waist. Her tummy was flat, with a rounded concave navel. Her hips were wide and alluring.
Her pubic bush was light brown in color, a shade somewhat darker than the hair on her head. The hairs were silken and glossy.
Her pussy was perfection itself.
Her pussy lips were the same shade of soft pink as her nipples. The lips were thin and delicately formed, intricately folded.
Her pussy was a flower of flesh. More than that, it was an unplucked flower, since lovely Jane was a virgin whose maidenhead was intact.
Her legs were long and trimly muscled. Jane was athletic, and had always loved good clean sports such as swimming, tennis, and horseback riding.
She was the classic all American girl. She came from a decent middle class family from a small-town in the Midwest.
That made it all the more strange that she should find herself in the predicament she was in. She had never been tied up before.
She was in a luxurious bedroom. The vast room was dominated by the antique, fourposter bed, with its overhead canopy.
There were comfortable armchairs thickly cushioned and padded in purple velvet. The carpet was made of a richly colored, deep-pile weave.
The walls were polished wood paneling. The lights were low and intimate.
It was the perfect setting for a night of love-but then, there was the matter of the ropes which bound her.
Jane sat in an armchair. Her hands rested on her taut thighs. Thin hut tough red velvet cords bound her wrists together.
Her arms were tied to her sides. A much longer length of the same red velvet cord was wrapped around her.
The strands circled her torso, pinning her upper arms to her sides.
Like the velvet cord which bound her hands together, the cord which held her arms in bondage fit her snugly, but not painfully.
It took Jane a while to return to consciousness.
Her head ached. She had a splitting headache which wouldn't go away. She felt the pulse beat pounding in her head like a drum.
Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. Her eyes were glazed. Her bright blue irises were small and her pupils were wide black circles.
She moaned softly. Jane was disoriented, confused. She shook her head to clear it, and the effort made her dizzy.
She shut her eyes and leaned back in the chair.
Memory returned to her. Her thoughts were slow, sluggish.
A masculine voice said, "Ah ... so my little angel has returned to me."
Jane knew that voice. It belonged to her brand-new husband.
She opened her eyes again. It was difficult to focus them, but she managed.
Her husband of only a few hours, Clark Crossland, sat on the bed, facing her.
He was much older than she was. He was thirty-five years old, a successful businessman, and damned handsome, too.
He was six feet tall, and in top condition. He had a lion-like head, with clear gray eyes, a Roman nose, and a cynical mouth.
His brown hair was cut short and neat. He was broad-shouldered, with a square-shaped torso, flat belly, lean hips, and muscular arms and legs.
He was considered quite a catch, and Jane was the lucky girl he had married.
He was naked from the waist up. His muscled torso stood out in bold relief. Sleek black hairs covered his pectorals.
He wore a pair of tight black leather pants. They fit him snugly around the crotch, so that the bulge of his genitals was on display.
Jane frowned. She still had trouble thinking clearly. She felt as though there was a fog over her brain, clouding her thoughts.
What had happened? Why was Clark dressed so strangely? And why was she tied up?
The rope of velvet was tied around her torso so that the strands crossed over the tops of her lush breasts, and under them as well.
She tried to get her hands free, but could make no headway against the ropes.
Clark smiled. "You can't get free, darling Jane. You're my prisoner.'
"Prisoner?' Jane had trouble forming the words-her speech was slurred.
"Yes, my prisoner-my prisoner of love."
Some of the mists started to lift from her mind, and she recalled the events which had inevitably led her to this moment.
Today had been her wedding day. She and Clark had been married this morning in a dignified civil service. They were man and wife.
She loved Clark. She wanted nothing more than to be his loving bride.
But there were problems.
Jane was afraid of sex. An incident in her early teens had frightened her terribly, and that fear of physical love was still with her.
It was a traumatic experience. It happened one hot Saturday afternoon, when her uncle Freddy had been babysitting her.
Jane had been in her early teens then, a shy, sweet, demure young lady.
She had only recently ripened into adolescence. At that time, she had an awkward, coltish grace. She was thin and long-legged.
She would never forget the slightest detail of that horrible afternoon.
She was in her parents' house. Her folks had gone to a wedding upstate. It was a long trip, and they would not be home until late that night.
They had not wanted Jane to be alone in the house when it was dark. Uncle Freddy had volunteered to stay at the house until they returned.
Having Uncle Freddy watching over young Jane was like setting a fox to guard the hens in the chicken coop.
He was a jovial middle aged man, a bit roly-poly, with a balding round head, red face, and bulbous nose. He was always laughing and cracking corny jokes.
Jane had always been a quiet and serious girl, and somewhat shy.
That afternoon, she wore a thin blue sleeveless dress and loafers. Her hair was done up in a pair of blonde pigtails on the sides of her head.
Her small, budding breasts were tucked into a white nylon bra, although her bosom was so small and firm that she didn't need the support.
She wore the bra more for modesty's sake than anything else.
Uncle Freddy was drinking beer and watching the baseball game on TV. It was hot in the living room, and sweat beaded up on his face.
Even though he was her uncle, Jane felt a bit uncomfortable around him.
She didn't know why. Maybe it was the way he looked at her when no other adults were around. She had had other men, strangers stare at her that way in the street.
But Jane was a very nice girl who always thought the best of other people.
She was going to go outside and go down to the schoolyard to play with some of her friends. She had to pass through the living room to get to the door.
Uncle Freddy set his beer can down on the table, and called her to him.
"Don't you look pretty as a picture," he said. "My goodness, you're one of the prettiest little girls these old eyes of mine have ever seen!"
Jane didn't like to be called a little girl. She was a teenager, she had had her period, and her body was developing fast.
Still, she forced a thin little smile on her soft red lips. She stood close to Uncle Freddy's chair. He asked her where she was going.
She told him. He frowned and pouted. He whined, 'That isn't very sociable, honey, to leave your old Uncle Freddy all alone."
Suddenly he reached out and put his hands on her waist and pulled her down on his lap. There was strength in his arms, and he held her tightly.
"Please, Uncle Freddy, let me go!" She laughed, as though it was just a game, but there was nervous anxiety in her which made her laugh brittle.
Her rounded cupcake buttocks pressed against his groin. The fabric of her summer dress was very thin, and she could feel the bulge of his genitals.
His breath reeked of stale beer. "Don't be unfriendly, darling girl! If you only knew how crazy your Uncle Freddy is about you!"
He held her around the waist. She squirmed and struggled, trying to slip free from him. Her smile, a phony one, melted at the edges as she started to feel real fear.
Her squirmings got Uncle Freddy really excited.
Her warm rounded bottom pressed against his penis and testicles. As she squirmed, her bottom rubbed against them, stimulating him.
His face got redder and sweatier than ever, and his eyes were wild.
Jane's eyes widened until white surrounded the blue irises, as she felt his penis getting hard beneath her.
It shifted and spasmed in his trousers like a live thing with a mind of its own. She could feel it getting harder and longer and stiffen
"Please, Uncle Freddy, let me go!"
Desperation sounded in her voice, as she realized that he had no intention of loosening his grip.
"That isn't very nice, Jane-not very nice at all." There was an ugly tone in his voice, one which he never used at the family gatherings.
"Your Uncle Freddy loves you, Jane. It's very selfish of you to want to leave!"
Jane's eyes moistened and filled with tears.
Uncle Freddy said, "Yes, you're a very selfish young lady. I think you need to be taught a lesson in manners, and respect for your elders!"
He stood up, pushing Jane on her feet. She filled her lungs with air to scream.
She never completed that scream. He clapped his hand over her mouth, muffling her.
He held her from behind. She was as helpless as a child in his hands. His groin pressed against her backside-she could feel his hardness.
Jane squealed as he grabbed the hem of her dress, and lifted it up to her waist.
"What you need is a good, solid spanking!" he leered.
He pulled her dress up to her waist. Jane wore a pair of white cotton panties. They were stretched tight across her narrow hips.
Uncle Freddy started touching her all over, in places where she would never, never have allowed any of her boyfriends to touch her.
His sweaty palms caressed her taut thin thighs, leaving smears of perspiration on the smooth pink flesh.
He put his hand on her bottom, feeling it. He patted her rounded cupcake buttocks squeezing and kneading them through the panties.
Then he did something even worse-he pulled down her panties.
He tugged them off her hips, which were narrow with jutting hipbones. Jane struggled to keep from being stripped. She was crazed with fear.
He controlled the young teen easily. Keeping his palm firmly pressed againsi her mouth so she couldn't scream, he tugged down the panties.
They slid down her smooth thin thighs and shapely calves, falling in a heap around her ankles. She was naked from the waist down.
Her buttocks rippled. Her pussy lips tingled when they were exposed.
Her pussy was very lightly bushed, covered with a fine, downy, thin covering of light brown hair which was softer than the softest fur.
Uncle Freddy picked up her panties with his free hand. He lifted the crotch to his face, and inhaled it. "You even smell pretty, Janey!"
He dragged her back to the chair. He took his hand off her mouth.
Before Jane could scream, he stuffed her panties into her mouth, filling them. The panties served as a most effective gag.
He sat back down on the chair, then pulled her face down across his lap.
Jane kicked and thrashed and struggled-all to no avail.
The panty gag muffled her yelp of sudden pain when Uncle Freddy twisted her arms behind her back.
He unknotted the loud, flashy necktie he wore, and took it off. He pinned Jane's hands on her back, crossing one wrist over the other.
He used the necktie to bind her hands together. He pulled it tight, so that it cut into the tender flesh of her wrists.
Jane had almost managed to work the panties out of her mouth. But Uncle Freddy finished tying her, and jammed the panties back in.
Now young, teenage Jane was bound and gagged-and helpless.
Uncle Freddy moved her around on his lap. Her small bush scraped against his groin. He put her in position for a spanking.
He pulled her dress so that it was bunched way up on her back, leaving her uncovered and naked. He hooked his leg over her ankles, so she couldn't kick.
"What you need, Janey, is a good, old-fashioned, over the knee spanking!"
Tears spilled from her eyes as his big hands fondled and squeezed her bottom.
He kneaded the globes of soft smooth flesh, pulling them and stroking them.
He spanked her with his hand. His broad palm cracked down on her buttocks with a sound like a pistol being fired.
Her bottom cheeks rippled and quivered from the impact-it hurt!
Uncle Freddy loved spanking her. He slammed his hard palm down again and again. Jane writhed in pain on his lap.
The more she writhed, the harder her hips and pussy rubbed his swollen cock, exciting him all the more.
The more excited he got, the harder he spanked her. It was a vicious cycle.
Jane's parents did not believe in corporal punishment, so she had never been spanked or slapped in anger.
Jane was a sweet and obedient girl who rarely got into mischief, and certainly did not need the corrective discipline of a bare bottom spanking.
But this had nothing to do with discipline. It was a sadistic, kinky thrill for Uncle Freddy to punish his niece for no reason at all, except the most important reason of all-he wanted to do it for his pleasure.
There were other things he wanted, too and Jane would find out about them soon enough.
She cried. Her shoulders shook with sobbing. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
As his palm pounded her bottom, her buttocks went from their normal, milky white color, to a blushing shade of rose, to a deep burning red.
Finally, he stopped spanking her. Jane shivered and shook.
"There," he leered with sadistic satisfaction, "that will teach you to respect your elders. And if you don't behave, I'll take a strap to your behind next!"
He demanded to know if she was ready to be a good girl. Tears flowed from her eyes as she nodded her head up and down, signaling yes.
"Well see if you've learned something about obedience, you sassy little minx!"
Uncle Freddy eased her off his lap. He made her kneel on the floor.
His thick, sausage link fingers plucked open the buttons at the front of her dress, opening it to the waist, exposing her small budding breasts in the white bra.
He yanked the bra cups off her breasts exposing them. , Her breasts were the size and shape of ripe, fresh plums. He squeezed and palpitated them. He played with her nipples.
"You are a naughty little girl " he said, "but a pretty one-no doubt about that!" He rolled her tiny pink nipples in his fingers.
Under his touch, her nipples got hard, so that they were stiff pink points.
Uncle Freddy stood up. The bulge in his crotch looked immense.
"Uncle Freddy's brought you a very special gift, Janey," he leered.
His hands shook as he opened his baggy trousers and took them down.
He wore white boxer shorts. His hips were fat, his thighs were chubby and covered with hair. His belly was soft and swollen.
He pulled down his shorts. His swollen erection sprang up.
Jane groaned through the gag. She had never seen a naked adult male in the flesh. Oh, she had seen clinical black and white photos in the sex education textbook from her hygiene class at school, but it was not the same.
His erection terrified her. It was thick, hard, red, and throbbing. The head of it was like a mushroom cap, and the shaft was a swollen red stalk of flesh.
His balls were swollen in the scrotal sac. A pungent, unpleasant smell of sweat wafted off him, filling her nostrils.
Uncle Freddy laughed when he saw her staring in horror at his rigid rod of flesh. ' It's a beauty, isn't it, Janey?'
He patted the top of her head. "And it's all for you."
He told her that he was going to take her gag out. He warned her that if she screamed, he would whip her with his belt until her ass was raw and bleeding.
He reached in and pulled the panties out of her mouth. They were sopping wet, soaked through and through with her saliva.
He gripped his penis. ' I want you to kiss this, Janey. I want you to kiss it and lick it like it was the most delicious piece of candy you ever had.'
She begged him to let her go. He silenced her with a slap across the face.
"Next time you act up, you'll get the strap," he promised.
She was terrified-too terrified not to obey.
He held his penis and rubbed it against her soft cheeks. His flesh was smooth and hot Jane sobbed and shivered with revulsion.
Uncle Freddy took hold of her pigtails, gripping them in one fist. She gasped as he twisted her hair, pulling it by the roots.
"Kiss it," he commanded.
Quaking with fear, Jane puckered her lips. He pressed his cock head against them.
His flesh was hot. The cock head was wide. She kissed it lightly, glancingly.
Uncle Freddy frowned and told her that if she didn't show some more enthusiasm and affection, he would whip her ass raw.
He ordered her to lick him. Moaning wordlessly, Jane parted her red lips, extended her tongue, and pressed it against his stiff penis.
He held his member while she ran her tongue up and down it. He liked that, and he moaned and groaned as she licked him up and down.
"My balls, too," he giggled, "don't neglect those little darlings."
His hairy balls pressed her face. They rippled as she ran her tongue over them. She worked her way back up his shaft to the swollen cock head.
"Now-take it in your mouth and suck it like it was a lollipop!"
Jane parted her lips, and he put his cock head in her young mouth.
His penis felt so hot that it almost burned her tongue. Uncle Freddy gasped and moaned as his swollen penis was surrounded by her hot wet mouth.
He told Jane just what he wanted her to do. First, she had to swirl her tongue against his cock head, and lick the tiny slit at the tip.
She slurped and sucked wetly. Saliva drooled out of the corners of her mouth, wetting her chin, making it shine with saliva.
Then he pushed deeper into her. Her mouth was stretched by his thick shaft.
He pushed in too deep at first. Jane's haunted eyes widened in fear as his cock filled her mouth. Its fat head bumped the back of her throat.
She choked and sputtered, fearful that she would suffocate.
Uncle Freddy grinned. "Too much there for you to take all at once, eh? Yeah, I've got a big one, all right-and it's all for you, Janey, honey!"
He pulled back a few inches, giving her some breathing space.
He rubbed his cock head against the slippery, sleek roof of her mouth.
Jane's jaws and tongue ached and throbbed with soreness.
Uncle Freddy got more and more hot. Holding her head by her pigtails, using the strands of blonde hair like reins to guide the movements of her head, he pushed her head back and forth, forward and back.
Her mouth bobbed up and down on his heated rod of flesh. He moaned as the smooth wet insides of her lips glided over his burning cock.
His flabby thighs jiggled as he thrust back and forth with his stiff penis.
When he pulled back, his cock, dripping with her gooey saliva, emerged from between her parted lips.
He would withdraw his erection from inside her mouth until only the knobbed cock head remained there. Then he would thrust forward.
He would bury his stiff penis as deep as he could put it in her mouth and throat without choking her. He repeated this cycle again and again.
Each time his shaft came out of her mouth, it burned hotter and redder.
Between gasping breaths, he said, "I'm going to cream in your mouth, Janey! You better swallow every drop of that sweet cream if you know what's good for you!"
He resumed thrusting. Suddenly, he plunged his penis deep, and left it there.
The red, rigid rod of flesh twitched on her curled tongue. It felt like a fat hot snake inside her mouth, getting ready to strike.
Uncle Freddy came. His face, red and wet screwed up like it was being squeezed. He cried out as his orgasm hit him.
Jane felt something warm and wet gushing from his cock head down her throat.
In her hysterical fear, she thought for an instant that it was blood-of course, it wasn't. It was semen, gushing thickly.
She gulped it down her throat, swallowing it like it was a dose of nasty medicine. If she did what Uncle Freddy wanted, maybe he wouldn't hurt her.
The semen oozed like honey down her throat-but it didn't taste like honey.
Uncle Freddy was satisfied. He didn't even try to rape her virgin pussy. That would have produced telltale evidence that he molested her, while raping her mouth would not. He demanded that she lick his come off his cock, too.
This was the traumatic incident which had scarred young Jane, and made her terrified of sexual love. Now, in the present, that fear of sex threatened to end her marriage before it had even begun-but not if Clark could help it.