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Elaine by Lothie
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
From: [email protected] (Lothie)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: STORY: Elaine, by Lothie
I wrote most of this story a while ago, and I only just got around to
finishing it. It probably needs some revision, but for now, I'll post it
to the net.
Anyone who knows me will think that the narrator doesn't sound much like
me, personality-wise, even though it's clear that in some sense she IS
me. Basically, this story was written by an aspect of my personality
that I don't let out very much; it should be clear why from reading the
story. Her name is Syl.
ELAINE, by Lothie. Copyright 1993. Please reproduce this file with the
attached foreword.
I can't remember at which one of the many parties at our house
it was that I met this girl. We're always having parties, often
for no particular reason. Half the time I don't know half the
people at them. Usually I try to avoid them as much as possible;
strange people frighten the hell out of me. But tonight I was
too restless to stay in my room, and anyway I had just learned to
do more than fake one of my favorite songs, "Fire and Rain"; I
wanted D'Glenn to hear me and give an opinion.
I found Glenn in the living room, surrounded by giggling women.
One of them was standing, her eyes closed, breathing hard; I
realized as I approached that she had one of Glenn's sex toy
attachments for his guitar, a two-inch speaker, pressed up
between her breasts, and was savoring the vibrations. I caught
Glenn's eye, and he smiled at me and ended his improv session
with a little flourish.
"Do you mind listening to this?" I asked, as the girls mostly
drifted away. "I just shamed myself into learning it, and I'm too
excited to keep it to myself." Glenn nodded graciouly, and I sat
beside him on the sofa, my guitar Telperion across my lap. I
fingered the strings nervously for a moment, then launched into
the introduction to the song. It's not in any way a complicated
piece, for all that the chords are weird, but I'm no guitarist;
I picked the instrument up originally to accompany my voice, and
I've been at best a mediochre fake ever since then. It's Glenn
who's pushed me farther, made me see how much I was cheating
myself. Well, I'll never be Steve Vai, but I do put my heart
into it.
"Just yesterday morning, they let me know you
were gone.....
Susan the plans they made put an end to
you....."
I became aware of another set of eyes on me halfway through the
first chorus, and I looked up. My fingers faltered, but it
didn't matter; the chorus is easy, and I recovered myself in no
time. There she was, the girl, the woman I had been noticing
all evening despite my best efforts. I knew her name, I knew
her connections to my friends, I knew a lot about her as a
matter of fact, but we had never spoken. Her name was Elaine.
I love women. I absolutely fucking adore them, if you really
want to know. But you'd never know it unless you really spent
some time talking to me on the subject, because I never approach
them. Oh, I flirt with my friends, but I've never played for the
big stakes with a woman. They scare the shit out of me. Men...I
know what to do with men. I'm no artiste, but men don't worry
me. Around women, on the other hand, I get all squooshy inside.
I want to protect them, to hold them, to baby them, to kiss them
all over. I don't know how to express this...so I don't.
Elaine. She was looking at me, and through my eyelashes as I
pretended to concentrate I looked back at her. Elaine the Lily
Maid, I said to myself. Her hair was long and deep reddish
brown. Her eyes were like mine, blue-green-grey, only darker,
deeper, and somehow wounded looking. Her face was pale, not
pretty but rather beautiful; it looked as if someone with depth
lived there. Her body looked soft and pliable but trim; she wore
jeans and a soft jersey turtleneck. She was wearing a bra but I
could see her nipples faintly through the two layers of fabric.
I didn't take all this in at once but rather over the course of
the entire song. In fact, looking at her, I unconsciously played
through the bridge twice and then played through a verse silently
and played the bridge again. All very good practice, and Glenn
nodded approvingly, perhaps thinking I was doing it on purpose.
Blushing furiously, I lowered my eyes to the neck of the guitar
and swung into the third verse. My voice cracked a little as I
left it, but that's okay; it's supposed to.
"Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a
friend
But I always thought I'd see you....one more time
again."
My voice rasped and broke on the final line and I let it trail
off. Glenn was looking at me a little wide-eyed; my voice never
breaks unless I mean it to, even when my throat is so sore I can
hardly talk. But he nodded to me as I set Telperion down. "You
have it, all right," he said. At my self-deprecating smile, he
added, "Remember what I said if you ever tried to tell me you
couldn't play guitar -- I'll spank you."
"Wish you would," I muttered softly, and Glenn looked at me in
total understanding. I've never been able to explain why I want
pain, but I don't have to, to him.
"Play more," said Elaine.
I looked up at her, then slowly nodded and picked up Telperion
again. "Siddown," I said. "I'm going to reward your insolence
by making you listen to some drivel that I, personally, wrote."
Obediently she sat across from me, and I played a little with
another intro, then launched into "Bad Weather". I hadn't played
it in a little while and was uncertain of the chord changes, but
by the second verse I had it again. S'awful when you forget your
own stuff.
"Eyes the color of the stormy sea,
And a heart to match it
A spirit of flame that can set you free
If you can only catch it...."
I shut my eyes; I was singing for myself now, pouring heartbreak
into my fingers and vocal chords. Listen to me and understand
me, the music was saying, Take me and fill me. The song isn't
particularly good, but it was my offering of the moment once upon
a time, and I've kept it around in my collection, dragging it out
when I think nobody'll notice. I wasn't sure why I was playing
it now; perhaps it was something in the girl's eyes, I wanted her
to know that there was hope. I thought that after this I would
play one more song. I began to wrap this one up.
"The wind has been blowing all this evening time,
But if it's cool we don't feel it
There's fire enough here to keep us warm
And no pain that we can't heal it."
The ending of the song is unresolved; it ends on a note of
longing and hope. Although I had been making plans as to what to
play next when I launched into the last verse, I found that I
had forgotten them all; my breath was a little short, and I felt
disoriented. After a moment I looked up at Elaine, and found
her watching me with an unreadable expression. Glenn made a
little sound of loving encouragement at me, and then drifted
away. We were alone.
"What does the end of the song mean?" she asked me then.
"Just what it says," I replied, setting Telpe back down again.
"Lovers heal each other's pain."
She was silent a moment, and then she said, "Some pain you can't
heal just by being in love."
I reflected on that for a moment. "You can come pretty damn
close," I offered.
Elaine blinked a few times, slowly. "I want to be alone," she
whispered. "Is there anywhere in this goddamned house I can be
alone?"
"Yeah," I said. "Go down to my bedroom. It's the door to the
right there --" I pointed. "You'll find a box of tissues beside
the bed. Nobody will bother you, not even me."
"Thanks." She stood up, and walked in the direction my finger
was pointing. I watched her till she had disappeared behind the
door. As she reached for the knob, she gave a shudder and then
seemed to slump all over, and I could tell she had begun to cry.
I did my best after that to circulate. I came up behind Glenn
while he was in the kitchen and put my arms around his waist and
felt him lean into me. I didn't want anything from him except
that he allow me to touch him, and Glenn absorbs touching better
than anyone else I know. I cupped my hands around his hips and
rubbed gently up and down, and he broke off what he was saying to
purr at me. The person with him, one of our bandmates, leaned
over and kissed my ear, and I kissed his jawbone. Then, with a
last rub of my forehead against Glenn's shoulderblade, I left
them alone to talk; I knew they'd come looking for me if they
had anything to say that I should hear.
I moved through the living room, smiling here, accepting a kiss
or a hug there. Psychically I was pushing everyone away, as
usual. It's too damn easy to get to me, too easy to get down to
the place where my need starts to show. A while ago I decided
that *I* must be the one to judge when anyone gets to see that,
and the effective result is that no one ever does.
Around three in the morning I found my husband slumped in one of
the sofas, snoring lightly. I shook him awake gently and kissed
him. "Off to bed with you, loverbunny," I said gently. He
nodded, and then looked at me questioningly, wondering if I would
join him.
"Not tonight," I said. "Maybe tomorrow. I'm just gonna want to
sleep, when I finally get around to it."
"See you then," he said, and wandered off down the hall to his
bedroom, after I had delivered two gentle pats to his ass. I
kissed my fingertips after him, then decided to see if people
were leaving yet.
They were indeed beginning to disperse, and I helped some friends
find their coats and get their things ready. "Where's Elaine,
anybody see her?" one of them asked.
"I think she left," replied another. I thought it was
unfortunate that I didn't get a chance to say goodbye, but then
again I supposed it was for the best. She had started to get to
me without even trying. I really didn't want that. I have to be
in control, you know?
It seemed to take forever to get rid of everyone, and even then
there were some people crashing on the sofas for the night. I
decided that I was doing nobody a favor by sticking around, so I
headed down for my room. It was way, way too late -- dawn was
thinking of breaking. Shit, *I* was thinking of breaking.
I walked into my room and snapped on the overhead light -- and
got quite a surprise. There on my bed, wrapped up in my
blankets, lay Elaine, fast asleep. Or at least, I assume she had
been fast asleep. As I registered her presence, she shot bolt
upright, and I noticed the way one notices the color of the sky
that she was naked.
"Wh- wh- wh- wh-" she mumbled, narrowing her eyes. "Oh. Syl."
"Yeah, it's me," I answered. I'm the polite type, so I was
already in the process of removing my clothes, seeing as how she
was naked. Her gasp as I shucked my tshirt and unsnapped my bra
indicated that she didn't feel as comfy at my kind gesture as she
ought. I turned a quizzical look on her, which she met at first
with a stare, and then with a faltering explanation.
"You - you said nobody would bother me, not even you." Her eyes
looked at me accusingly.
I exhaled heavily. "Baby, look at the clock. It's after four in
the morning. I ain't running a hotel." As she stared at the
time in wonder, I added, "Oh, you can stay the rest of the night,
if you want; I'll go crawl in with Guy or somebody. Just let me
change and grab a bathrobe, and I'm outta here." I pulled a
sleeptee over my head, having removed everything else while I
spoke.
I emerged through the head hole to find her staring at me again.
Abruptly, I realized that she was about to cry. Her eyes were
very wide and very shiny, and she was shaking a little. Mentally
I played back our conversation, trying to see if I had said
anything particularly nasty, and came up with zip. "What is it,
babe?" I said then, very quietly.
"Ummm, if it's so late my ride must have left," she said inanely.
I shrugged. "So what? Stay the night. When you get up in the
morning, I'll cook you some breakfast, I'll drive you home,
there's nothing in the world to worry about so what's WRONG?"
The last words were delivered in a fierce whisper.
Elaine made a little choking sound, and the tears spilled over.
Don't let my tough bitch act fool you; I'm a pussycat when it
comes to tears, despite the fact that I myself cry all the time
and it doesn't mean anything. I sat down next to her on the bed,
and she just sort of toppled into my arms. I held her for a
while, until she quieted down, and then I wiped her eyes and nose
with some tissues and brushed her hair back from her face. "You
okay?" was all I could think of to say.
"S-sorry, Syl," she whispered, still choking a little. "I
shouldn't have come to this party. But my friends kind of
dragged me, and I guess it was just too much for me."
"S'okay, that's what I'm here for," I answered almost
automatically. "I can't always deal with parties either. It
just happens sometimes."
"It ALWAYS happens to me," she said darkly, and I was hit with
that awful feeling of oh no, don't tell me, I don't want to know,
and then she continued, despite the desperation in my glance, "I
was raped, not too long ago, at a party."
It was too late. "Raped?" I repeated stupidly.
She nodded. "He offered to give me a ride home. But instead of
doing that, he took me back to his place and tied me to the bed
and raped me over and over again. Then he untied me and threw me
out of his house -- I had to walk back home."
Without thinking, I automatically put my arms around her again.
I held her tight and rocked her a little, and as I did so I
silently willed her not to see the whips and cats hanging on the
wall, the chest full of chains on the dresser, the dildoes and
vibrators on the nightstand, the ropes -- the ropes attached
under the mattress....
"I wanted to call the police, but my roommate told me not to,
said they'd have a field day, you know, the kinky aspect of it
all," Elaine continued, her voice muffled a little against my
hair. I nodded, horrified. Then she pulled back and looked me
in the eyes.
"Because, you know," she said in a flat voice, "I like to be tied
up and fucked. Or I did, then. And I didn't exactly make a
secret about it. He knew...." The look in her eyes was
terrible.
"Baby," I said, and pulled her close again. I stared over her
bowed head at the wall and said silently, Why me? Why me,
dammit? I didn't want to know.... But out loud all I said was,
"It's okay. You're all right."
"Hah," she muttered into my collarbone. "Then why can't I deal
with it?"
"No, I mean YOU'RE okay, it's not your fault, there's nothing
wrong with you," I said. "You're not to blame for it." It
wasn't really that I knew this was what she needed to hear; it
was simply the first thing that came into my head. It did seem
to calm her down a little bit. She sniffled a while, and then
she sat up. The look she threw me was challenging.
"Of course YOU'RE going to say that, Syl. Everybody knows you're
into bondage." She gestured around the room. "A pervert....just
like me."
"Hey, watch it," I said, my voice low and a little dangerous.
"Some of my best friends are perverts."
Elaine let her face drop into her hands. "God, I hate it," she
murmured. "I hate ME."
My next remark was rather cruel, calculatedly so. It's what I
always say when confronted with despair. "Ever think about
ending it all?" I crossed one leg over the other and sat at
ease, the perfect bitch goddess figure.
Her suspicious gaze focused on me again. She seemed about to
yell at me, and then she checked herself and subsided. She
nodded soberly. "Sometimes. But I never do it. I guess I'm
just a wimp."
"Yeah, I guess you are," I agreed, swinging my foot a little.
Her eyes widened, and I shrugged and gestured.
"Whatcha want, Elaine? I got knives, I got ropes, I've got a
whole bottle of aspirin. I don't do guns, but you can go fast,
you can go slow, you can go easy, you can go hard. If you want,
I'll even hold your hand while you do it. What do you say?"
She stared at me for a few seconds, her mouth working, and then
she spoke, her voice a strangled whisper. "You...fucking...
BITCH!"
I stared back at her, implacable. "What do you say? How do you
want to go?" When she didn't answer, I began to taunt her.
"C'mon, Elaine, don't be indecisive. I have a whole roomful of
dangerous objects. Surely one must be to your liking."
"BITCH!" she shrieked. "I can't believe you're offering to help
me suicide!"
"Why shouldn't I?" I asked. "What are friends for?"
"But I don't want to die!" she screamed, and then started to cry
again. Once more, I gathered her into my arms. She struggled a
little feebly and then rested against me.
"Oh, well, that's different," I said, in what I hoped were normal
tones. "What DO you want, then?"
There was a little silence, while Elaine sniffled and I rocked
her in my arms. Then, she said the most astonishing thing.
Fortunately, she said it into my hair, so that I didn't have to
worry about the way my face must have looked.
"I want to be tied up and fucked." Her voice was very small and
pitched low, but her words were unmistakable.
My response was quite eloquent, I think, all things considered.
"Ummah?"
Elaine pulled away from me. "I've been thinking about it ever
since I saw the ropes," she said, gesturing at said ropes to
avoid looking at me. "About how it felt. About how much I used
to love it. About how he wrecked it for me. About how it might
feel to do it again. And I thought...everybody knows you're safe
and careful, Syl...I thought maybe...." Her voice trailed off.
"You want ME to fuck you?" I said stupidly.
"Well," she said. "I mean, a mouth is a mouth. Fingers are
fingers....and I know you've done it before." This was true.
"Well." I took a deep breath. "You just want me to tie you up?
And then use my mouth and fingers on you? Nothing else?"
"Nothing else...for now," she said, her voice very soft.
"All right," I sighed. "But you have to do one thing first."
Her eyes questioned me, and I said, "You have to let me kiss
you."
Elaine held still, just looking at me, her eyes very big and
soft. I leaned over and kissed her lips, caressing them with
mine. Her mouth felt good under mine, and I parted her lips with
my tongue, licking the insides and up over her teeth. She moaned
in response and darted her own tongue into my mouth, and I
thought it was a very good thing that she had just told me to
fuck her, because I would find it very hard to resist doing so
now.
Still kissing her, I pushed her backwards on the bed, straddling
her body. Trembling a little with pure lust, I rubbed my cunt
against hers and felt her hips buck in response. I broke the
kiss and smiled at her, then took her right wrist in my hand. I
made a loop with the rope, and tied her. First one wrist, then
the other, and she lay there, breathing a little hard and looking
both excited and frightened. I kissed her again, and then ran my
tongue down from her jaw to her collarbone, tracing along it;
down between her breasts; down her belly to her navel, and from
there to leave a gentle kiss on her nether lips. I pushed my
tongue in, just a little, and she moaned.
My mouth traced a gentle wet path down each of her legs to her
ankles, which I also tied, and then back up to her knees. I
began alternating kisses between her thighs, soft, wet, biting
kisses, and she trembled, pushing her hips up and forward a
little. I bit her thigh hard, high up near her cunt, and she
cried out softly.
I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked at her as she lay in
my bed tied up and breathing hard. Her distress was pretty to
watch as she squirmed and whimpered, trying to find something for
her pussy to rub against. I must confess that my own ass was
moving up and down a little as I rubbed myself against the
coverlet. I smiled at her, and then lowered my head to the
pretty labiaflower in front of me.
I kissed her again, my tongue running up and down over her labia
and then poking gently in between. She gasped and sighed, and I
used my fingers to gently spread her lips. The sight of her sex
with petals opened caused me to rub myself harder against the
bed; she was so soft and pink inside, glistening a little, her
clitoris shyly peeking from under its hood. I kissed it,
enveloping myself in her scent and in her taste.
I had ceased to care if she was enjoying what I was doing or not;
I was driven to eat her, to kiss her, to take her cunt in as many
ways as I could. I nibbled on her lips, biting the outer ones
and sucking on the inner ones; ran my tongue up and down her slit
from clitoris to vagina, flicking my tongue over her clit at one
end and darting my tongue into her vagina at the other; and
tongued her anus, swirling around and around and then pushing
into her. My hands were busy as well, caressing her breasts, her
ass, and her thighs, touching and squeezing. I was enjoying
myself immensely and didn't really pay attention to her moans and
gasps; this feast was all for me.
She shuddered, cried out, and became suddenly much wetter. I
slid a finger into her vagina and began to slowly thrust it into
her, sliding it around the walls, up and down and around. I
thrust in another finger, moving them now slowly, now quickly,
all the time flicking my tongue back and forth over her clit at
varying speeds. Her juices began to gush out over my hand as I
pumped it in and out of her, and she was crying incoherently and
trying to kick her feet. It seemed pretty futile to me; she was
mine, and I was going to fuck her, and that was that.
I turned my hand so that my palm was facing up and went questing
with my fingers, hooking them a little as if beckoning. There,
up behind her pubic bone, I found what I was looking for, and I
pushed my fingers against it hard, wiggling them.
Elaine made a low moaning sound in her throat, like an animal in
terrible distress, and her pelvis began to shudder. When she
arched her back, I bent my head and began to lick at her clitoris
again, flicking it with my tongue.
She gave a strangled cry, and a warm jet of fluid gushed over my
hand. I stopped moving my fingers and withdrew them slowly, then
moved my face downward a bit, kissing her labia tenderly and
passionately. She moaned and shivered, and I smiled.
Slowly, a bit languorously, I moved to untie her hands and feet,
and rubbed the skin gently where the ropes had been. She stared
up at me, wordless, her eyes huge. Both of our faces were wet,
hers with tears, mine with her sex fluids.
"I feel like I should say something," she said after a time. Her
voice was very soft and had an odd inflection, as if she were
speaking to me from very far away.
"I don't," I answered. I turned away from her a little brusquely.
Now was the time when people who are in love with each other, or
are just dear friends, hug and snuggle and kiss and tell each
other stupid inane things, using words that sound suspiciously
like "love" and "forever". I'd long since given up on love, and
I believe in forever like I believe in the Tooth Fairy, so I
didn't see any sense in that. I fucked her, she came, it was
great, maybe she felt better -- that was all there was to it.
She saw all this on my face as I turned away, and instead of
acting hurt or rejected, she understood. I could see it out of
the corner of my eye, the look on her face, the decision not to
be upset at my need to withdraw, the acceptance of what I was.
Her ability to understand made me want to turn back and at least
hold her, but I felt I had made my decision.
So instead, she sat up and put her arms around me. I felt her
breasts pressing up against my back, and I gave a little sigh as
I felt her lips caress right behind my ear. I relaxed back
against her and let her turn my head to her and kiss my mouth.
Fairly soon we were lying next to each other, touching and
exploring each other's bodies, murmuring wordlessly, trading
long, wet kisses.
When she slid her finger between my labia, I shut my eyes and
moaned. My cunt was already wet, and as her finger stroked past
my clit I had a small orgasm, moaning and shuddering and
squeezing her breast. She made a soft cooing sound and poked her
finger into my vagina, stirring the wetness there, and I squeezed
her breast harder and sighed, contracting around her finger.
When the sun started making pretty patterns on the walls, she and
I had licked and stroked and sucked just about every inch of each
other's bodies. My mouth and my cunt were sore, and I'm sure
hers were too. My wrists hurt a little from straining against
the ropes, and she had rope burns across her belly and breasts.
We lay in each other's arms, totally exhausted, and pretty well
satisfied sexually.
And that's all. I'd like to be able to say that I cured her and her
problems were over. However, that would be a lie. If everyone could
recover from rape that easily, would it be a crime? I'd like to say that
she and I fell in love and she melted the ice in my heart and we lived
happily ever after, but that would be a worse lie. She wasn't about to
fall in love with me, not at any point, and if she had I'm sure she'd
have regretted it.
And, given the first two things that I can't say, I'd like to be able to
say that I forgot about her and went my own way and did my own thing.
But that would be the worst lie of all. I suppose it looks as if I don't
think about Elaine more than once in a blue moon, but it's not true.
Specifically, every time I sing that song I wrote, I think about her;
and for some reason, every damn time I pick up Telperion, I have to sing
that song.
"There's fire enough here to keep us warm,
And no pain that we can't heal it....."
And I wonder, is that a lie too?
FINIS
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