The Storyteller

Chapter One-1

Chapter One

The Cherry Wood Apartments

Blair Overton sat in the living room of her new apartment in Tempe, Arizona, glad to be out of Bisbee and in a major city like this one. Getting a scholarship to Arizona State and thus being free to spend her college fund as she saw fit was an added benefit as well.

“Free,” she mouthed, after kissing her parents goodbye and watching their rental truck move out of the driveway from her rear window, heading back to the boring mining town she had come from. “Free at last. Thank God, I’m free at last!”

She thought of many things after watching her parents leave in the orange and white truck, taking the monstrous thing back to Bisbee and returning to the drab lives they felt so interesting. From her view, she thought of an old Alice Cooper song she had heard on the radio on the way up as she followed them in her car. Like the words in the song, she was eighteen and she liked it.

Back home, she had never had many boyfriends. At times she seemed so withdrawn, high school gossip branded her a lesbian when she was nothing of the kind. She had found her own secretive means for s****l release, and none of the small town hicks were needed to provide it for her. The best part was in this new location and life; she would not have to worry about being caught.

With these thoughts in mind, she went into her lone bedroom and looked about. Her bed was the same. The full-length mirror had made it without being shattered. The nightstand and alarm clock were there.

It was at that point she noticed her father, who was the only smoker in the family, had left a book of matches on the little stand. She went to examine them more carefully and saw they belonged to the Cherry Wood Apartments, where she had just moved. Dad must have picked them up in the office and forgotten them.

For a second she considered throwing them away, when she realized with the move everyone had overlooked a basic. They had not brought a waste basket with them.

Figuring the matches would be fine where they were or come in handy if the need arose, she went on to other things.

Sitting on the bed, she removed her shoes and socks. With a sigh of anticipation, she rose and walked toward the mirror, where she started removing her clothes.

Her hair was short, so she did not have to let it down. Her breasts were large too, but in proportion with her body. Why women chose to go with implants or augmentation was a mystery to her. If you could not be who you really were, what was the point of even being?

Her top came off and after that the bra, so she stood before the mirror, admiring her n*****s which were starting to stiffen. Her breath was growing increasingly hot as well.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” she whispered to her mirror image. “Now we can do whatever we want to.”

Slowly, she fondled herself, imagining a man’s hands over her. This dream lover had no face, but only groping fingers, toying with her entire body. The imaginary stranger and his grasps were all that mattered.

Staring at her reflection, she undid her belt, following with the button and zipper to her pants. Down they came, so she stood before the image of herself wearing only a pair of dark panties.

Again she imagined her lover running his hands over her, though they were really her own. She envisioned the faceless one yanking her panties down so she was bare before him.

“I want to lick you,” she taunted herself. “Then I want to f**k you until you scream.”

Just as she did not believe in breast augmentation, she was against shaving her pubic area. The hairs of her bush were many and thick, coming in the same blondish brown tone as the hair on her head.

“Do me,” she whispered to the empty bedroom. “Do me now.”

Falling back on the bed as if thrown, her fingers went to work gouging in and out of her now open slit. She felt the dampness increasing, heard her own labored breaths and saw the faceless man on top of her as her imagination went into overdrive.

“f**k me,” she gasped. “f**k me! f**k me! f**k me!”

In the past when she had finished such a session, she thought how trite her monologue was. How unoriginal. Like something from a bad porno movie. Yet what did it matter? These were her words. She owned them. This was her dream and her way of getting off. She could say whatever she wanted.

“Please, f**k me. f**k me hard.”

Perhaps because in this new setting, where she had no fear of getting caught, new fantasies started to come to her as she worked her way to orgasm. In her vision, she saw the scene change. Something was very different than before. This was totally amiss.

The faceless man was there, but he was no longer on top of her, thrusting her to new heights of pleasure. Instead, she saw herself in this very same bedroom, but bent over the bed. The faceless man had a belt and was about to take it to her naked ass.

“No,” she protested. “I don’t want a whipping!”

She had never been spanked as a kid, in any way, shape, or form. She probably should have been, but her parents didn’t believe in that type of discipline. In s*x Education it was discussed, but the teacher clearly did not want to dwell upon the topic. To her, the idea likewise seemed weird. Why would someone want to feel pain instead of pleasure? Why spank when you could f**k? How could pleasure and pain ever merge as one?

In her unexpected fantasy, all bets were off. The faceless man took the belt to her and whipped her red. The first strike brought excruciating pain, but with each blow the displeasure changed into enjoyment. She was experiencing exactly what she thought was impossible.

She screamed and started to blubber like a little girl, but this was consensual, and even though she could have ended the punishment at any given moment, she chose to endure. She knew the f*****g would be twice as hot once her strange disciplinarian had finished.

More strikes came and she could see her own bottom now glowing with a fiery red.

Then she orgasmed.

The shout she let out was that of a wounded animal. Her cries were profane and her emotions totally out of control.

At last, it was finished.

The punishment man was gone. She was alone, sweating and panting on the bed, looking up at the ceiling and feeling totally exhausted.

This was what her future held for her – uninterrupted, lustful, satisfying release. Plus, if she wanted a real man’s touch, she could find one on campus with no problem whatsoever. This was not Bisbee, and the field was open. She could rub off or finger herself any time she desired. If she wanted to f**k or suck, and she was, contrary to popular belief back home, no virgin, then she was also free to do so.

It was then her thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing doorbell. Horrified, she thought her parents had returned, but looking out the window from her apartment that led into the parking lot, she saw no truck.

“What the f**k?” she muttered as she rose from her position. “Who?”

Still naked, she went into the living room and peaked through the drapes, trying to figure out who was on the other side of the door. She could only make out part of a male form, but it was too inconvenient to open up and see what he wanted when she was unclothed.

While she was considering finding some proverbial f**k buddies down the road, she was not yet ready to make an open invitation.

Thus, she waited. The doorbell rang once more and then fell silent. Listening, she thought she heard the door to the apartment next to her open and someone enter. A neighbor had come to call.

At first she panicked, thinking her cries had been so loud they had vibrated through the apartment walls and someone was coming to check on her. Breathing heavily as before, she waited, but no one knocked at the door or rang the bell again. There were no police sirens. Once more, she was alone.

She considered her previous fantasy and even bent her head with her back to the mirror, expecting to see marks on her ass, but there were none. Instinctively, she rubbed her exposed rear, thought there was no real pain. It was the strangest experience she had ever come up with in her mind.

Dressing, she went to her car and drove to downtown Tempe to check out some things. She fell in love with her new home away from home at first sight. Within two hours of time, she felt as if she had lived, died, and been reborn.

The sky was the limit, just like the old cliché noted.

So Blair became acquainted with downtown Tempe and the nearby Arizona State Campus. Classes were about to start for the year, and the air was ripe with many combined vibrations. All sorts of people from all over the world had come to learn a multitude of different things. With this would come many new experiences for a girl such as herself, but no matter how she considered them, she was unable to shake the twisted fantasy that had crept into her in the isolated bed chamber. She knew before the night was over, she would do it again. While there were men and even women all over the place for the asking, she was not yet ready. s*x on her own was, at least for the moment, her preference.

Once back at the pad, she made a fast dinner for herself and thought of going to the apartment pool before it shut for the evening, but she thought better of it. Inside, she knew what she really wanted to do. There was nothing to stop her from stripping off her clothes and regressing to what she had done earlier in the privacy of her new bedroom.

Only as she made herself naked again did she think of the neighbor, who was still a faceless man in his own right. He had tried to visit and been ignored for obvious reasons, but was it not rude of her to put off the inevitable? It would have been better to go ring his own bell and make an introduction, as it was still early and the lights were on, but she had better things to do.

Once again, she was bare on the bed and fingering herself. Nothing now could prevent her from heading to an adult book store to buy a dildo or vibrator, as for certain, she had no fear of being seen. Fingers, however, worked well for her. They were her old friends and they did not let her down.

This time she did it in different positions, shifting from on her back as before to doggie style and on her side. Again, her insides churned and she groaned with pleasure, increasing with the speed of her own self-inflicted thrusts deep within. It was then the dark fantasy returned.

She was stretched out across the lap of the faceless man. Her pants were down, but her panties were up, so she was afforded at least partial protection from the blows she knew would come.

“You’ve been fingering yourself!” the faceless man’s voice bellowed, which was odd, as he had no face to speak out of. “You are a bad girl, and you’re going to learn your lesson!”

The lesson consisted of some twenty smashes against her ass cheeks, which brought a new wave of pain as each blow came down. Though her ass was burning, she knew there was more to go and she protested aloud while inside, her brain screamed for this never to stop.

Suddenly, she felt a rough pull and her panties were down off her posterior.

“No,” she pleaded. “Why are you taking them down?”

“This isn’t hurting you enough,” came the angry voice.

“Yes, it is,” she protested. “It’s hurting a lot!”

“You’re really red,” the faceless man informed her. “You’re gonna be a lot more red before I’m done!”

The spanking man’s prophecy proved true, as he continued to strike against her unprotected flesh, now uncovered to receive every painful blow.

“This is what you get,” he kept saying. “This is what you get.”

The tears started to flow over Blair’s face as she was held down to receive the full extent of her discipline, yet with every painful slap, she found herself coming closer and closer to orgasm. She was unsure whether her cries were ones of agony or ecstasy. Her ass, however, was burning as if someone held a blow torch to it, and she knew in fact, as predicted, she was going to be very red.