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| Making Chelsea Pay 1 | Back to N | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
Making Chelsea Pay
By Frantic
Making Chelsea Pay -- Chapter One (c) 2001, Frantic
When he got home, he'd called up Chelsea's house, making sure he'd be
alone, and speaking to the maid to say that Alicia wanted Chelsea to
return a sweater she had borrowed the night before. The summer
vacation had just started, and Alicia would need it. Half an hour
later, she was there. "Hi shit-for-brains," she said, as she came in,
"I've got 'Licia's stupid sweater, she around?"
"No, she's gone for dinner with Mom and Dad, they're treating her for
getting such a great report card. Yours not doing the same for you?"
"They're in Europe for the summer," she answered. He'd known that,
he'd heard her telling Alicia, but he acted surprised.
"Look," he said "why don't you have a juice and I'll drive you home.
It'll save you the walk, and I'm going that way to meet some buddies
from college."
She shrugged, "Yeah, why not."
The glass he gave her had both sachets in it. She drank it down
quickly and he sipped at his, suddenly saying "Man, it's hot in here."
She turned to look at him and he concentrated in his mind on the image
of heat, then said - "Don't YOU feel hot? You look it"
"Yeah, I do suddenly"
"You'd be more comfortable if you took some clothes off," he told her
conversationally, wondering if this was really going to work, "all of
them would be best". At worst, she could slap him. At best ...
Even as she was saying "You have got to be kidding, you sleaze!" her
hands were unfastening the buttons of her shirt and slipping it off
her shoulders. A panicked look came into her eyes as the hands,
seemingly of their own accord moved next to the waistband of the
skimpy shorts she wore. "But I don't want to!" she muttered.
He smiled at her. "YOU might not, but it seems your body has other
ideas."
The shorts lay at her feet, and the hands were behind her, struggling
with the catch of her bra.
"I think it'd be nice if you took those last bits off nice and slow
and seductive," he said.
Immediately, the hands slowed.
"What the fuck have you done to me?" she hissed as she stood there and
shimmied and jiggled her way out of her underwear like a stripper.
He grinned. "You aren't going to believe this Sweetcakes, but I've
taken control of your body by magic"
"You're right," she said, "I don't believe it."
The grin on his face hardened and he looked straight up and down her
body, which, try as she might, she couldn't get her hands to cover, or
persuade to turn from his gaze.
"Then let me demonstrate," he said. In his mind, he pictured her,
aroused and wet, her nipples hard and eager for lips - his lips. Then
he smiled, and said, "Tell me what you're feeling right now. Oh, and
the other thing… you can't lie. That's magic too."
Her eyes opened in horror as she said, as if the words were being
wrenched out of her, "I feel... horny... for YOU"
"Still think that YOU'RE in control, Chelsea? Now walk over here, and
let me give those aching tits the relief they crave, though I warn
you, you'll come the moment I touch you, and you won't stop until *I*
decide to let you." Though her mind screamed in outrage, the scream
that tore from her throat was pure lust as he claimed her nipple, and
as he sucked at her, her juices trickled down her leg, and she shook
as the orgasm he promised gripped her body. His fingers found her cunt
and immediately, she began to rock against them. "What do you want
Chelsea?" He asked, knowing what her answer would be.
"I want you to fuck me, right now. I hate you, you bastard, but I want
you to fuck me harder than I've ever been fucked."
He stripped his clothes off quickly and pushed her to the wooden floor
of the kitchen. As he knelt between her knees she asked, "Aren't you
going to wear a condom?"
He laughed. "Not hardly, sweetcakes." He took the tip of his cock, and
rubbed it against her excited clit, making her squeal
"But... I might..." but the protests her mouth was making were belied
by the hips arching up to slide her lower lips over the head of his
shaft.
"Yeah," he grinned, "you might. What a shit." And he drove down into
her, slamming her buttocks against the floor with a loud SLAP.
As he entered her, he delighted in the way her cunt spasmed and
rippled against the cock he drove into her, and the way her long slim
legs wrapped tightly around his waist and the orgasm went on and on
and on as he rode her, hard and punishing. Finally, he shot his load
deep into her, and something inside her was screaming as she felt the
hot liquid gush. Then he withdrew, but he left her writhing on the
kitchen floor, still coming, for a full minute after he stood up.
Then ... "That's enough," he said, and she found herself exhausted,
but able to move of her own volition again.
"I hate you," she spat.
"I know," he smiled, "but you loved every damn minute of it and you
know it. And I can do that to you, ANY TIME I WANT. From now on,
whenever you come within a ten yards of me, your nipples will get
hard, and you'll get wet. Whenever you hear my voice on the phone.
Whenever anyone mentions my name. And whenever I touch you, you'll
find that you simply can't suppress your moans of desire. Now, get
dressed. Oh," he tossed her a cloth, "and wipe up the mess you made on
my mother's floor."
She did so, quickly, spitting curses at him.
"Oh dear," he said, still smiling. "You'll regret that."
She looked at him, her eyes wide and scared. "This is just the
beginning, Chelsea. You have no idea what fun and games I have
planned for you. Now, I'm going to take you home, and you are going to
pack, you're spending the Summer in the mountains with me, you lucky
girl. Then once you're packed, you will go to bed and sleep - though
not for, because you're going to wake up every two hours and fuck
yourself to orgasm with your fingers. I can't make you think of me
while you do it - it's your body, I control, not your mind -- but
you'll know that it's me causing it. And at 7.00 tomorrow morning,
you'll be here with your suitcase and an overwhelming need to suck my
cock. You're going to have a long, and strenuous summer Sweetcakes."
"Have you hypnotised me, you shit-for-brains son of a bitch?"
"I told you Chelsea, it's magic." He looked at her, "Hypnosis, they
say, can't make someone do anything against their basic character -
Magic isn't so limiting."
He heard her whimper as he put his hand in the small of her back and
propelled her towards his convertible, and though the drive back to
her place only took 5 minutes there was a damp patch on her shorts by
the time they pulled up outside.
Grinning, Davis saw a group of Chelsea's cronies standing chatting
just down the street. Deliberately, slowly, he raised a hand and
massaged one breast, his mind prompting her to gasp out loudly enough
to attract their attention as she arched involuntarily to press the
burning flesh into his palm, then he murmured, "Kiss me now," and sat
back as she leaned towards him, fastened her lips onto his and gave
him the longest, most bruising, sexiest kiss he'd ever experienced,
and he felt her trembling from the intense sexual arousal he was
subjecting her body to.
He let her out of the car, stopping her as she ran towards the house
by calling out "Hey Chelsea." She turned to look at him, because she
could do nothing else, and he could see tears on her cheek, "I'll see
you first thing in the morning Sweetcakes, and thanks for earlier, you
were great. If you are going to be as hot as that for the whole
summer, I'm going to need help keeping you satisfied."
Her face flamed, and she fled into the house, but he knew her friends
would be calling her up within minutes to find out if she'd really
fucked him, and that with the truth spell on her she wouldn't be able
to deny it. He figured it would take about two hours to get around
everyone in the elite crowd.
It was only an hour and a half later when his phone rang though, and
his best friend Ralph whispered in an awed tone, "Did Chelsea Clements
REALLY let you fuck her today? And, if so, was she sober?"
"Let me?" he replied airily, "Ralphy, she BEGGED me. And she was
stone-cold, not-had-a-single-drink sober."
"Oh, come ON, get real. She's looked down her nose at you her entire
life."
"Let's say that the little queen of our social scene discovered
something about me today that she simply can't resist. So much so
that she's spending the summer in the mountains with me. Come over in
the morning if you don't believe me, she'll be here at seven."
"My man! Would I seriously doubt you? So... are you going to be a
gentleman, or are you going to tell me what she was like?"
"Enthusiastic, but needs practice."
Ralph snickered, and Davis knew THAT phrase would soon be doing the
rounds.
"So this trip to he mountains is by way of practice?"
"Lots of practice, yes. So I'm going to need my sleep. G'night
Ralphy."
"G'night you lucky son-of-a-bitch"
As Davis looked at the clock before he turned out the light he gave a
small smile - Chelsea should be waking up just about now with an
aching need to finger herself to climax for the first, but not the
last, time tonight. It was a sweet image to go to sleep on.
She was there, as he expected, at seven o'clock, suitcase in hand, and
the way she kept darting her eyes to his crotch and licking her lips,
she knew that the other part of his instruction was working too. She
was hurting, and would continue to hurt until she got her mouth around
his cock she was swallowing his sperm.
He showed her through to the kitchen, where his mother was making
breakfast. "Why, Chelsea, hello!" she exclaimed, surprised to see the
girl there at all, let alone so early. "Are you here to see Alicia?
She's still asleep."
"No, Mrs Abernathy. I'm here for Davis. He's taking me with him to
the mountains."
Her eyebrows shot up. Chelsea Clements was going to the mountains
with Davis? But she'd always been so insulting to him!
"You don't mind, do you, Mom?" Davis asked.
He knew she would say 'no'. She'd always been cool about him taking
girls away, and even if she wasn't keen on Chelsea, she was bound to
see the advantage in him 'dating' Hal Clements daughter. Hal owned
half the property in town and several businesses. The Abernathys were
wealthy, but the Clements family were RICH. Filthy, stinking rich.
"Don't get hurt dear," she whispered to him, "and don't do anything
that will get Mr Clements mad at you." Then she raised her voice "Not
at all dear, you two have fun up there, and I'll see you in a couple
of months."
The words obviously had an impact on the girl - A couple of MONTHS?
It began to dawn on her that she was going to be spending the entire
summer with a guy that she had always despised, and who suddenly,
unaccountably was hot for, right to her bones - even though she STILL
despised him. And although he clearly fancied her, he didn't seem to
LIKE her one little bit.
She didn't know what his power over her was, but it was really scaring
her. It really felt like he HAD cast some kind of spell on her. She
was sitting here, in his kitchen, with his mother, and all she could
think about was how she had woken up, time after time last night, just
as he's said she would, and done just what he'd said she would do.
That, and the gripping pain she had in her belly, and giving him the
blowjob that she somehow KNEW was the only thing that would make that
pain go away, as if his sperm was some kind of special antacid that
she needed to cure her. And just to make things worse she was dripping
wet again, just from his presence.
"Are you ready, Sweetcakes?" he asked. She cringed. She hated that
name. "Yeah."
"Well then, let's go." He led her to the car, and as his hand took
hers, a groan escaped her lips, making him grin from ear to ear.
As they drove out of town, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the
pain in her stomach getting steadily worse.
With obviously fake concern, he asked, "Is there something you want,
Sweetcakes?"
"You know fucking well what I want, you bastard, since you claim you
made me want it." She hissed at him.
"Well, yes. And once you ask me - nicely, mind - if you can have it, I
might let you." He replied.
"Please may I give you a blowjob?" The words came out from between
gritted teeth.
"You'll have to do better than that, Sweetcakes,"
She took a deep breath, wincing at the sudden stabbing in her belly,
and wished she could wipe the sickening, smug smile off of his face.
"Please," she said, keeping her voice even, "would you let me suck
your cock?"
"Why of course." He pulled off to the side of the busy road and put
back the seat of the chair. Gesturing to his crotch, he said. 'There
you go, it's all yours."
She watched the traffic passing, slow in the morning rush hour. With
the top of the convertible down, there was no doubt that every car
that drove by would be able to see what she was doing. "Here?" she
asked, incredulous.
"It's here, or wait till we stop to have lunch and do it in the
diner," he said.
She couldn't wait, there was no question of waiting. The pain got
worse with every moment. Her face scarlet, she fumbled clumsily with
his pants, and released his hard-on, then she bent her head into his
lap and took it into her mouth. She felt a pulse in her groin as she
started to suck tentatively at it, and he placed a hand on her head,
pushing her down further onto it, and further still.
"Jesus!" he muttered in disgust, "you really are useless at this,
aren't you? Use your tongue for gods sake!" and she found herself
licking swiftly along his shaft as he pushed her head down sharply, so
that her nose was buried in his pubic hair. "At least I know you won't
gag," he commented, and began to thrust his cock up, fucking her face
thoroughly, his shaft reaching into her throat, until finally she felt
it tighten and her mouth was full of his salty liquid. It was the most
delicious thing she had ever tasted, she realised as she swallowed it,
and heard him sigh, and the pain in her stomach disappeared. It was
then it occurred to her that the bastard had probably adjusted her
tastebuds or some fucking thing like that, even as she kept her mouth
over his rapidly shrinking organ, her tongue greedily seeking every
last drop.
"Couldn't you kids have waited?" she heard a deep male voice from
outside the car.
"I could, but Chelsea here wouldn't be denied." Her shocked brain
heard Davis answer.
She sat up, blushing furiously, to see a fat police officer leaning
over the car, as Davis fastened up his pants.
"Is that right miss?" he asked, his voice amused, "you were that
desperate to suck some cock?"
"Y.. yes officer," she stammered. She couldn't even deny it, because
of what he'd done to her!
"Well, miss, this is a serious matter you know. Public indecency." The
man looked her up and down, and a slow smile spread across his round,
red face. "I'll have to run you in ... unless your taste runs to man
cock, as well as boy. In that case, my colleague and I could oblige,
in our nice, warm PRIVATE patrol car, and we could say no more about
it."
This was a nightmare, it had to be, she thought. Then Davis spoke.
"It wouldn't be worth your while, officer. She really isn't very good
at sucking cock yet. Although I'm sure Miss Clements," he paused to
let the name sink in, "would be happy to make a nice donation to your,
um, retirement fund, wouldn't you Sweetcakes?"
Escape! "Of course," she said quickly. She pulled out her chequebook.
"Five hundred dollars?" She could see him weighing it up. At last he
nodded. "Just make it out to cash," he said blithely. She hurried to
comply and then heaved a sigh of relief as he waved them back onto the
road.
Beside her, Davis was laughing. "Oh, this is priceless!" he giggled.
"Chelsea Clements just paid $500 to suck my cock! Now, THAT will be a
story for my grandchildren!"