Letter From Radburn River

Dear Taryn

I met Melody, a 20 year old spitfire, when she and her sorority were having some sort of carwash fundraiser. You know, to benefit starving wooded owls or something.

They were so hot, in their little wet tee shirts, cut offs...

But when Melody approached me, her teased hair blowing in the wind, she wasn't even wearing a tee shirt, just a bikini top, which barely held her 40DD breasts nicely, and of course snug white shorts.

Shorts that would have made any other chick look like a goddamned balloon!

Melody had looked at me calmly. She could tell I was incredibly fixated on her, and I am sure she calculated the price of my little restored Peugeot convertible.

"We usually charge twenty bucks a wash, but I want you to pay fifty for the show."

Then Melody waved her tits at me, and I blushed and I gave her the fifty, and God help me, a twenty dollar tip.

I was at school too, in the engineering department and was lucky, I thought that Melody actually deigned to date me. Mel is a tall, statuesque blonde and incredibly spoiled.

And I, of course wanted to indulge her more. Mel was very old fashioned, waiting for me to open the door for her, that kind of stuff, and pull out the chair at dinner.

When I didn't rise as she or any other woman entered the room, Mel became incensed and slapped me, and the girl wears a lot of painful rings.

But she wore these wonderful tight pink sweaters, or sometimes pearl gray. They made her boobs look like hot air balloons.

The first time we went to bed, I discovered Melody wasn't much interested in mutual pleasure, but just wanted me between her legs.

Mel didn't orgasm easily, and I had to really work on it down there, all night long.

And I was hot to worship her body, kissing every crevice. She was kind of Amazonian, you k now?

I'd buy Melody cocaine to get her excited, but even after that and me tonguing her, at the end of the evening, after I'd made her cum five or six times...

And she'd snorted about $800 in blow...

All I'd get was "Okay, you can put it in now." and she'd lie there, watching the "Daily Show" with Stephen Colbert over my shoulder as I pumped away.

Other times, Melody was a big tease, jumping in and out of my lap, kissing my neck and rubbing up against me...

Or, she would turn on a dime and be icy and distant, and wouldn't let me near her!

"I'm just in a mood!" she'd say. But the mood could be broken by the purchase of a tennis bracelet...expensive tastes, my girl, but like I said, she was well worth it.

My dad was a little in love with her, and encouraged my purchases for Melody, and I'm afraid he made some of his own.

When I walked in on them one night, as my dad had a key to my apartment (he did pay the rent after all) Melody told me not to blow my stack or to tell Mom.

"We're just experimenting, your Dad and I"

I looked daggers at my father but he just hustled out of there, dressing rapidly, and we never discussed it again.

And I told Mel that I had a few submissive fantasies.

She took to this with alacrity. Sometimes she would use her stockings to bind me to the bed.

Melody would rub my dick until I was screaming to cum, running her magenta nails up and down my frustrated shaft.

With Katy Perry on her headphones, she couldn't really hear my begging to release...and God, she could rub almost forever.

Then like as not, Mel would get exasperated, and punch me in the nuts and walk away, me still bound there, horny and needing desperately to pee.

One night Mel's big macho cousin came to town and needed a date, and somehow Mel convinced me to put cotton balls in a bra and wear one of her sweaters and a lot of makeup and a skirt and escort Roscoe to a ball game.

"You love basketball, so don't complain Vester." Melody said gaily. "Or should I say Vestra?"

I guess it was just a harmless prank, but I wondered at this woman's control of me.

But Mel was funny and smart and impulsive. She noted one day that I was so slender that I had a similar figure as she, and insisted I try on a pair of her glitter jeans.

Mel had me put on a white peasant shirt and tied the sleeves over my navel. "You don't look like a girl, just kind of artsy."

That night she took me to the red-light district of Radburn River township, to an all black nightclub.

There, my ice princess became cuddly and giggly like I'd never seen him...you should have seen her dancing and bouncing in and out of various Negro men's laps.

Apparently it was like old home week when she was there..

She whispered something disgusting I suspect in some rapper's ear as she was squirming on his lap and she pointed at me, standing awkwardly in the glitter jeans.

"What's up, you white faggot?" I got that a lot that night as I nervously sipped my Sea Breeze.

Melody and I got in a huge fight that night when we were driving back to the school, because I thought she was far too familiar with those disgusting ethnics, and she was so upset she wouldn't see me for a week.

My father, in an effort to assuage her feelings, took her to Club Med for a week, telling Mom that he was in Cedar Rapids, Michigan on a business trip.

That was likely, Dad never worked a day in his life but, whatever.

But finally Melody forgave me again, but she agreed not to make me wear the glitter jeans or go to the inner city again.

Although my buddies told me to stay away from Melody, I figured they were just jealous. (She'd slept with several of them, after all.)

Before I took up with Mel I was a mess, and she straightened me out... I was on Valium, Paxil, Topomax, Abilify, Fiorinol and Librium.

I drank like a fish and smoked like a train, and saw an anxiety treating therapist twice a week and an analyst daily.

All that seemed to fizzle away when I began hanging out with Melody.

We went jogging and I could never keep up with that twitching bottom in the shorts...she almost paralyzed me doing Yoga and got me to lift weights with, of course an ex-lover she had...

I stopped having to use an asthma inhaler that I'd had since I was four, and my acne cleared up...

And I was so hypnotized by Melody!

One problem was, although she couldn't seem to stay out of other men's beds, Melody insisted on me being faithful.

She once gave me a fat lip for looking at another girl when we stood in line at the movies.

We would go to parties and Mel would dance with whoever asked her, and then one night I danced with someone else and Melody didn't take it well.

First Melody walked up to us and dragged the poor bitch away from me by her hair, and backhanded her.

Then she ordered me to drive us back to my apartment.

I got an apartment in my second semester of freshman year. I never liked the frat lifestyle, you know all those guys flicking wet towels at you, that kind of thing.

We got into my place and was Melody pissed.

She was wearing this great scarlet dress with the usual plunging neckline and her hair was in a huge bouffant, and it was hard to concentrate on her anger.

But I tried to reason with her, knowing the worst thing you could do with an angry woman is tell her to calm down.

"Melody, you go and dance with all these men, and I just danced with Lisa because she's my lab partner-"

Melody grabbed me by the crotch, through my pants.

"You listen to me, Vester Voorhees, you little worm. I'm a flirt..."

That's for sure.

"I'm not trying to creep on these girls like you are, you spoiled little preppie playboy. I always feel your jealous, beady little eyes on me when I am dancing with my friends-"

Melody squeezed my nuts harder, but I felt I had to protest.

"But you let these guys paw you and you hardly let me touch your tits at all-"

Melody finally let go of my testicles, mercifully.

She stalked to where I kept my great-grandfather's riding quirt, coiled on the wall.

My ancestor was one of the early settlers in the Radburn area, and the majority of our family money, before we bought into IBM came from sheep and cattle ranching.

This was a good thing, since I wasn't much of a student and my future as an engineer was doubtful.

Melody took the quirt off the wall and handled it.

The ancient quirt was an evil looking thing about two feet long, tan and braided; although it had been in the family a while, Dad had kept it oiled and fresh.

"When we went to your folks house for Thanksgiving, I asked your mom about this quirt." Melody said frowning.

"She said when she couldn't do anything with you, she'd use this to keep you in check, just a lick or two and you immediately began behaving, no more acting up."

I couldn't help it, staring at her, my Melody, as she fingered the quirt with her French nails, bosom heaving in the red dress.

This got me so excited, and I am ashamed to admit I began playing pocket pool.

"Stop that!" Melody said, and she flicked my hand and it came out of my pants quickly.

She rolled her eyes expressively.

"You're going to learn proper courtesy and manners when you go places with me.

No more dancing with other women, and no more vulgar jokes with the other misogynists while you spike the damn punch bowl.

She flicked me again. "Stop playing with yourself and undress now."

"Melody don't, I-"

Mel stepped closer and swung the quirt and it landed against my narrow chest. Oh, that stung.

"Didn't I tell you to take off your clothes?"

I had never been hit with the quirt on bare skin, and I was terrified, but so enthralled also.

I pulled off my clothes quickly. There I was, standing naked and vulnerable, feeling rather silly in front of this gorgeous blonde, who was playing with my great-grandpa's quirt.

And God help me, I got excited, and my dick was standing straight up.

Looking at my penis, annoyed, Melody swung the quirt hard and it landed on the glans of my penis and I shrieked.

I began dancing around and grabbing my genitals and Melody began laughing cruelly.

"God, Vester, you are such a wimp, I feel like I'm dealing with a rabid debutante or a bipolar ballerina. Go into your bedroom."

Reluctantly I went into the bedroom. "You're not going to-hurt me are you Melody?"

"It's all relative, Vester." Melody told me to lie on my bed and she bound my hands behind my back and then my ankles together with some bungee cords she found on the dresser.

And then she gave me twenty with the quirt.

Mother had never given me more than three, and of course I was clothed then. I was in near hysterics after the fifth from Mel's practiced swing.

Yes, practiced. I learned fascinating things about this woman's life later on!

When the whipping was over, I was sobbing and hysterical on the sheets. Melody sat on the bed and undid the cords and pulled my upper torso on her lap and began kissing my face and rubbing my shoulders.

"Why do you make your Melody so upset, Vester?" she asked me this in a honeyed tone.

Melody tongued my face and rubbed my hair. She lightly flicked my right nipple.

"You know your Melody loves you but you have to let her have her freedom and at the same time not try to make Melly sad by groping these other girls."

Melody had then shoved my sweaty, tear stained face into her soft white, heaving cleavage (where she usually ordered me not to touch her)...

And I was in heaven. Mel even removed on of her boobs from her dress and allowed me to suckle it for a little while.

Then Melly rubbed lotion on my considerable welts and sang me to sleep.

I have a little adult bedwetting problem, and for once Melody didn't rag me about it. She put my Depends diaper on me and left the apartment since our college is fairly conservative and the girls weeknight curfew was eleven.

I lay there on my rubber pee-proof sheet in my adult diaper and realized how lucky I was to have a girl like Melody!

After this, I tried to be less possessive, and I began being even more indulgent of Melody, my beautiful princess.

I got her a charge card (My dad co-paid) and took her all over the place in an effort to entertain her and make her feel content.

But we still had issues. One problem was, I got so excited by Melody that sometimes I had a pre-mature ejaculation problem. She got very annoyed at the mess.

Sometimes if she just sat on my lap (that rear of hers!) I would orgasm and make a mess on her nice dry cleaned clothes.

Mel combated this by making me kneel on my bed naked...she stroked my dick until I was on the verge of cumming, and then she whipped my penis with the family quirt till it went down...

"A little erection is a good thing, but not too much."

Soon she could just whisper "quirt" and I seemed to fade! But when I thought of the quirt I got excited again, so it was an issue.

You'd think since I was taking her out and buying her jewelry with my family's inherited wealth and even once taking her to our family's Swiss chalet, she could put up with a little mess now and then.

But even in Switzerland, on the alps, she was still Melody...

One night she went off to bang our skiing instructor, a man I'd been jealous of since I was a child, and the guy, Kierkegaard was my father's skiing instructor...

Kierkegaard had always been held up to me as a superior athlete, student and behavior model.

"You are a crybaby Vester. Kierkegaard is a manly little boy."

Oh, I hated him.

I was skinny, sickly and balding and Kierkegaard, at twenty-five had wavy hair and was quite fit.

And of course my girlfriend had to run off with him!

The next day on the slopes, Kierkegaard had smirked at me, and winked at Melody who of course had giggled.

That evening, after we'd had dinner with my family, I confronted Melody about her behavior with Kierkegaard, a mere servant of my parents.

She was brushing her sparkling mane and looking with satisfaction at her reflection in the mirror, but I used the phrase "slut" and she whirled around and looked at me.

"How dare you call me a slut, you pantywaist?"

Getting up, my strident blonde had stalked over to me and waved her hairbrush

Mel pulled my pants down and whipped me with the hairbrush until I screamed, and tried to wriggle off her lap, though of course my cock was bulging, bare on her lap.

Mel ripped off my clothes and used her pantyhose to bind my hands and feet and she used my dad's leather belt (when'd he give that to her?) on my naked body for about twenty minutes.

Then she dragged me by the hair, still bound, to the corner and told me to meditate on my sins.

Five hours later, she came back in the room, drunk with Kierkegaard and he'd laughed at me as I cowered in the corner, bruised and weeping.

Why? He'd been my bully when we were kids, and I couldn't believe I was being put through this.

"Show Kierkegaard your sad little penis, shuffle around and show him."

And I did! I could barely move as my hands and feet were bound, but I moved around and he laughed at my very stiff, purple but tiny member.

"See babe, this is my problem. I just don't know what to do, he makes a mess on me the pre-mature ejaculation thing and that's why I keep running to your arms...and I can barely feel him when he fucks me!"

Kierkegaard suggested that Mel dump me and live in Switzerland with him, but Melody, does not, so to speak travel coach...

Later, after Kierkegaard had fucked her in front of me, Melody had taken me into her arms and kissed me.

"The doctors think I might have a mood disorder, you know?"

"I'll always take care of you." I said, taking her into my lap, not cumming thank goodness and forgiving all.

But I remember looking at her nervously as we flew home.

At one point on the plane, she took the pilot's navigator in the little bathroom in the back to show him a mole on her thigh she thought might be cancerous, she said.

I was unaware that being a pilot gave you medical expertise...

Back home, my jealousy still seemed to surface. Mel really thought I was too churlish, she said.

"I want to break you of this macho attitude, and do it now."

Apparently Melody's grandmother had been a semi-topless dancer in Las Vegas back in the 1950s.

Melody brought these little cups with tassels on them, that she called "pasties."

Girls don't wear them anymore when they strip, they just go naked, but this was back in the day.

Melody had one of her other (sigh) boyfriends, who worked as a deejay for a local bar come and set up a wooden dance floor in my place.

Mel had me put on the pasties, a glittery thong and high heels and of course heavy whore makeup.

"We'll raise money doing this and cut off the hetero normative bullshit you're possessed with at the same time."

For a girl who was failing English, my girlfriend had an extensive vocabulary.

I thought it would be like a Chippendales thing, just hot girls watching me strip, but guys came too, some of whom were old pals of mine.

I had to dance to sleazy music, and when I seemed to falter, Mel got up and encouraged me with Grandpa's quirt...I was beginning to hate that thing.

The girls shoved Monopoly money in my belt, and the guys threw beer cans at me. It was quite a strange experience...

Traumatic, but I knelt and jacked off, looking at myself in the floor length closet mirror, in my pasties...the humiliation was narcotic!

Melody had suggested I blow a couple of the guys after the "show" just to maybe raise some real money for her non-event.

But I was reluctant...

"We'll have to get you used to having something big in your mouth, Vester Voorhees."

Melody bought a strap-on dildo and began straddling my upper chest as I was bound to my bed, and jack-hammering the rubber penis into my throat, sometimes for hours.

She was undeterred by snot coming out of my nostrils and the coughing.

"Girls have had to put up with this for years. You can learn to live with it."

Over the next few months, Mel proceeded to use larger and larger fake penises until I finally said I would blow any man she wanted if the dildos stopped getting larger!

"That's a good little bitch." Mel said with some satisfaction.

Fortunately, she just wanted to know that I was WILLING to blow a man, but she didn't actually make me do it...

But still my "macho" attitude seemed to plague her.

Mel bought a dog shock collar and attached it to my balls and when we went out, she'd press a button on a remote when I was annoying, and yes, it made me wet my pants...

But the big issue was, when Melody was mad at me, and cut me off sexually, or spent time with other men, I tried to find sex elsewhere, and this made her really, really mad.

She took up the dildo training again with me, but now she wouldn't even undress, she just put the dildo over her jeans, and slammed it in my mouth until I cried...

Sometimes Mel would go weeks or months without undressing in front of me, but demanding that I walk around naked in my apartment.

If I began pleading with her about being horny, she'd rub her covered crotch with her pretty hand and tell me that she'd get it taken care of elsewhere...and she'd have me jerk off in front of her...

And then one night, Melody introduced me to her sister, Miracle. (Yes, their parents were apparently quite flaky.)

"Miri and her husband are eager to meet you, Vester." Melody said to me over the phone. "It's okay if I bring them to your place, right?"

"You don't want to go out to dinner?" I asked. "I can pay."

"Maybe later, but let us drop by."

When they walked in, Miracle was indeed, a miracle. Quite a pretty girl, very brunette, as dark as Melody was blonde, and of course very intense. But her husband was Lauringer Braunschmidt, president of our college!

I confronted Melody with this in the kitchen.

"Oh yeah." Melody said matter of factly. "And my oldest sister Mystery is the Bursar here. Without Missy and Miri and her husband Larry I doubt I would have been admitted to this dump, I didn't even finish high school...