Master Of The Universe Ch 02

Copyright 2008. All rights reserved. This material maybe not be reprinted or posted on any other internet site without the expressed written consent of the author.

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The first thing Harry felt was a pulsating pain at the temples. He opened his eyes but it was still completely dark. He could see absolutely nothing. He had no idea where he was or the last place he had been. He tried to concentrate but his thoughts were all jumbled, pieces of dreams, conversations, pale blue eyes, a girl.

Name was something short. Started with an "L" I think. The club - I met her at the club, the Bluelight. We were drinking and talking. I was trying to pick her up. What happened? Did I leave the club? Did I leave with her? It's a total blank. God, I must have had more to drink, too much, must have blacked out. But where am I and why can't I see anything.

Harry blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, but nothing. It was still completely black. For the first time he felt something over his eyes, some kind of cloth or patch. His eyelashes touched it when he blinked. Next he felt something resting on the bridge of his nose and across his upper cheeks and forehead.

Oh God, I must have been in an accident. Am I blind?! Is it a bandage? Is that why my eyes are covered?

Harry tried to touch the thing covering his eyes but his arms wouldn't move. He wiggled his fingertips slightly to make sure he could feel them and was able to do so but his arms were absolutely pinned, immovable. They seemed to be pulled back behind him, straight down, perpendicular to his body. Harry tried again to move his arms. Nothing.

Harry's mind started to clear a little more and he started to take stock of each part of his body. Although he couldn't see any part of himself, he could feel it and he used that sense to try and figure out just how badly he was hurt.

He felt a flat, hard surface pressing on the back of his head, his back, butt and backs of his legs. He reasoned that he must be on some sort of hard bed or table. Maybe an examination table or a surgical table he thought. He tried to lift his legs but couldn't; they were held fast. He wiggled his toes and felt them flex back and forth.

Next, he concentrated on his torso, trying to detect pain as he inhaled and exhaled. Nothing, no pain. He tried to sit up but couldn't move at all. It felt like he was cemented to the table - every part of him pressed hard against the unyielding surface.

Next, he switched to his other senses. He could neither see nor hear anything. He could smell something though. It was familiar but he couldn't quite put a name to it. He had smelled it recently, of that he was sure, but he couldn't place it. His head hurt and his mind was still fuzzy and unfocused.

An image of a black Mercedes flashed into his mind. He didn't know why but it was connected somehow to the smell. Then it came to him. It was the leather interior, the strong smell of leather inside the car. Wherever the source of this leather smell was, it had to be close because the smell was strong. He felt a band or belt pressing on his forehead, pinning his head to the table.

Suddenly, he was aware that his mouth was open, wide open with some sort of object jammed into it, filling it completely. He tried to push it out with his tongue but it wouldn't move at all. He yelled but only a muffled sound came from his throat.

He struggled to get up but made no progress. Again, he felt some sort of bands or straps holding his neck to the table. Similarly, his torso was pinned to the hard surface. As his head cleared a bit, he felt tight bands across his hips above the hip bones, abdomen and upper chest.

Geez, I must have been hurt badly. I'm completely immobilized. Must be a neck or back injury to pin me like this. But why the bandage over my eyes, why is something jammed into my mouth and why am I alone? Why can't I remember what happened? I was talking to that girl, something about that car, . . . then nothing. I can't remember. Must have been an accident, a crash. How bad is it? How bad am I hurt? How bad?!!!

Harry dozed a bit, still feeling sleepy, but the sleep was very disturbed. Images of the girl, the club, the car flashed through his mind in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. He awoke again. He could feel sweat rolling down his cheek. He tried to clear his vision, tried to move. Nothing. It wasn't just a bad dream. He was really pinned to this table, blind and alone.

For the first time, Harry heard something besides his own breathing and gurgled attempts at a yell. It was a series of different sounds; a rustling noise like fabric, a squeaking noise like, . . like leather bending; a clicking noise - the sound of heels on a hard floor. Then a faint whiff of something, . . something familiar. Jasmine, jasmine, I've smelled that recently. An image flashed in his mind, the girl, that girl I was trying to pick up, walking by me when she first came into the club. I smelled it then, the same faint whiff.

The sounds stopped but the smell of jasmine was still there. Harry breathed deeply and listened intently for sounds, any sounds but heard nothing. He tried to call out but only a very muffled sound came out. He tried to lift his arms, his legs, anything, but nothing moved, not a bit, not a scintilla of movement.

Was it my imagination? Am I dreaming this? What is going on here?!!

"Welcome back to the living Harry."

That voice, it's the girl, what's her name, the one I was trying to pick up. What is she doing here? Was she hurt also? Are we both in a hospital?

"I know you don't have the slightest idea where you are right now or what is going on. I'll bet you have a hundred questions running through your agile mind. Some will be answered now; some in due time; some you will be able to figure out for yourself; and some will just always remain a mystery. In case you haven't already guessed, let me introduce myself: I am the lady you picked up at the Bluelight, Laura Scott, or to be more complete, Laura Scott Jansen."

Yes, yes, Laura Scott, that was her name. But Jansen, Jansen, the name sounds familiar too. I know that name from somewhere. Laura Jansen, . . Laura Jansen, I've heard those names together but something is missing from it, something is missing.

Another first name, something in front of it, or a title, . . . Mrs. Laura Jansen? . . . no that's not right; Doctor Laura Jansen, Doctor Jansen, that's it, that's it. Doctor Jansen, Betty's therapist. I've been writing checks to her every month for the last year and a half. Betty's doctor? What the hell is she doing here? What was she doing at the club? Coincidence? Not likely. Spying for Betty? A set-up, a trap? What the hell is going on here?!!

"Yes Harry," she said, seeming to read his mind, "I'm Betty's therapist or shrink as you like to call me. I told you in the car that I am in the business of helping people solve problems and Betty has a big problem."

Dr. Jansen paused for a moment as Harry tried to talk but only a muffled grunt came out.

She continued, "You Harry, you, . . . you're the problem. Your abuse and contempt for her and for all women for that matter , that is the problem. And money Harry, money, your complete control of it and her dependency on you because of it. That is also a problem."

Harry struggled to get up, flailing against his bonds but it was useless. He was solidly pinned to the table. There was no give.

"I am going to help her solve those problems Harry. I brought you here for that purpose. In case you're wondering, it wasn't just the scotch you drank that knocked you flat. I spiced that last drink up with a little something special when you were saying goodbye to your friends. You'll appreciate what that something special was Harry, it was Rohypnol, you know, the so-called "date rape" drug," she laughed.

Laura paused a moment in her explanation and leaned over, lips just inches from his left ear and whispered, "and you're my date, Harry."

Harry stiffened at the sound of her menacing words, the implication not lost on him even in his addled state.

Beads of sweat formed on his cheek and ran down the side of his face. Laura moved even closer to him and slowly licked his jaw line, collecting the salty fluid with her smooth tongue. "Hmmmm, you do taste good Harry."

Harry was stunned. His foggy brain started to grasp the reality that he was a prisoner, kidnaped in an elaborate plan, not hurt in an accident. Harry struggled to make a noise, to indicate that he wanted to talk to her. Harry always believed he could talk his way out of anything, and now was no different. He would promise her anything, anything to get out of this. He tried to force some words through the gag.

"Hrrrrmmmffffff . . . grrrrhhhmmmmmffffff!"

"No sense trying to talk Harry."

"I am not the slightest bit interested in what you have to say. You would promise anything to get out of this and then just change your mind later. I could even convince you to sign away title to your vast wealth in a few minutes of, shall we say, robust persuasion, but you would only disavow it later, claiming duress. No, I am here to adjust your attitude Harry. That is the only way to achieve permanent change. You are here to have your attitude adjusted. There will be no discussion about it , no negotiation, no bargaining. I will do all of the talking. You will do all of the listening."

She leaned over and whispered in his ear, " and you will listen well."

This must be some sort of a joke. She is just trying to scare me. Doctor's, especially psychiatrists, don't just kidnap and torture people to solve marital problems. This will all be over soon. And when it is, I'll take care of her and Betty and anybody else involved in this. They are going to be in jail for a long time. Just hold on, hold on, they're bluffing. This will be over soon, he thought confidently.

Harry felt a brush of air over his face and hair and then felt something smooth and warm pressing against his ears and upper jaw. The smell of jasmine was even stronger now but there was something else mixed with it. It had a strong, musky smell, something familiar yet different.

What is that smell?! I know it, . . . I know it. . . . It's her, . . . it's her cunt, her cunt, she's standing right over my face, nylon stockinged thighs pressing against me. She must be really turned on, I can smell the heat. She must be dripping wet. Maybe she's just having fun with me. I'll just do her and that will be the end of it - at least for me. It will be just the start of things for her and anybody else involved.

Still leaning over, Dr. Jansen whispered in his ear:

"I have a very specialized practice Harry. I help so-called trophy wives of wealthy, powerful men take control of their lives and their husband's wealth. I take men like you who have been abusive and contemptuous towards women their entire lives and turn them into respectful, obedient worshipers of women in general and their own wives in particular. I also relieve their husbands of the burden of handling their own finances, turning that difficult task over to the superior person in their relationship, their wife."

She paused, letting what she said sink in. Then continued:

"In return for my services, I get great satisfaction from helping women take their rightful place above their man, and also a little commission - a fee for my services. It's always a very tidy sum, but it must be a fair fee because the wives are always eager to pay it. I guess they get a little personal satisfaction out of the process too, eh Harry."

She's bluffing, . . . bluffing. Just hang in there, Harry thought to himself.

"Of course there's no reason why I can't have a little fun along the way. Helpless men really get my juices flowing. But I bet you can tell that for yourself, can't you Harry. "

Yeah, you go ahead and have your fun but I'm going to have the last laugh, he thought.

"In fact, I think I will start our little adventure together with a little fun for me. I have a good use for that tongue of yours trapped behind that gag. I think it's time I let it out. By the way, it will be no use screaming Harry. This place is soundproofed and far removed from the nearest house."

He felt her hands reach behind his head and undo the strap behind the base of his skull holding the gag in place. She put her finger in his mouth and pulled out the rubber ball wedged deeply in there. Harry immediately tried to close his mouth to relieve the pain in his widely stretched jaws. He couldn't do it. In fact, he couldn't move his jaw even the slightest bit.

"Surprised Harry? It wasn't the ball gag keeping your mouth open. I used a favorite little item of mine to take care of that earlier when you were still out. It's wedged open with a dental brace - a kind of "car-jack" for the mouth that dentists use to keep a patient's mouth open when they've been given a general anaesthetic. There's one on each side. It's not too comfortable is it, Harry, my poor dear, but you'll get used to it."

She tapped him on the cheek before continuing:

"You'll get used to a lot of uncomfortable things before we're done here; and besides, it serves my purpose of making your mouth, tongue and throat always available to me which is all the reason I need."

Harry felt the movement of her thighs across his ears and cheeks as Laura slipped her silk panties off, lifting one leg and then the other to slip them off her feet. She took the crotch of her sopping wet panties and stuffed part of them into Harry's mouth and jammed the other part against his nostrils, holding it there with the crook of her middle and index finger.

"Taste good, don't I Harry? Ha Ha!, Haaaa Haa! C'mon Harry, you've wanted a good taste of me ever since you saw me. Well, now you've got it. Take a good taste. Lick it, savor it, sniff it, tongue it. Take a few minutes to let the scent and taste sink in. Soon you'll get a taste of the real thing and I want you in top form. In fact, I insist upon it."

At first Harry gagged as she shoved the panties into his mouth. With his blindfold still on he was in the dark and couldn't anticipate her movements. It caught him in mid breath, causing him to choke and cough. In recovering, he took a deep breath in through his nose since his mouth was jammed with panty and got the full impact of the sopping wet panty crotch jammed against his nose.

Uggghhhh, can't breath, can't breath, don't panic, don't panic; ahhh! The smell of fresh cunt; strong, musky but not bad. If she hadn't been such a bitch, I would have gladly licked her cunt clean before banging it, flipped her over and split those cute little cheeks, but it will be a cold day in hell before I lick this bitch's cunt. You can tie me down, but you can't make me eat. Hah! Harry thought, his mind racing with a strange mixture of arousal and rage.

Laura pulled the panties off of his face and flipped them aside. She cupped his face with both hands, sliding her fingers to his ears and slowly lowered her swollen, dripping pussy down to his widely stretched lips.

"Now I know you can't see anything Harry, but that's the whole point. I want you to be able to pleasure me on command, in the dark, using only your tongue to feel your way and sense my response. You'll be that much better at it when you can see!"

Harry felt her smooth nylon covered thighs as they slid down the sides of his face, followed by the wiry, feathery touch of her pubic hair as her crotch came within range. She stopped, adjusted her position and then lowered herself the rest of the way. Harry felt the hot, soft wetness of her nether lips as they pressed against his open mouth.

"C'mon Harry, what are you waiting for, give me that tongue! Get going Harry!"

Like hell I will bitch! Go lick your own cunt!, Harry thought, stubbornly refusing to extend his tongue.

Harry suddenly felt strong fingers grasp his nostrils and press them together hard. At the same time, he felt her shift all of her weight so her cunt pressed hard into his widely stretched mouth. It caught Harry completely by surprise. Suddenly, without warning, his air was cut off. He couldn't breathe. All he could do was scream deeply in his throat but all that came out was a slight, muffled murmur, "Ahgghhhh, Ahghhhhhhhh!"

Oh god, Oh God, OH GOD!, can't breath, can't breath, let go, let go, LET FUCKING GO! Get off me, okay, okay, I'll lick, I'll lick, Harry thought, reconsidering his position.

Harry pressed his tongue up against her pussy lips and starting licking fast and hard. Harry licked for his life. He licked up and down, then side to side, then in circles, searching, searching for her clit. But Laura kept his nostrils clamped shut and, by jamming her pussy against his tongue and lips, kept the air supply to Harry cut off.

"Mmmmmpf, Mmmmmmmmmmmpfff, MMMMMMmmmmmmpff!"

Let go! Let go!, can't breath, can't breath, can't breath, don't want to die! DON'T WANT TO DIE! Not like this, not smothered by this bitch's cunt while she gets off. I'll do anything, ANYTHING!, just let me breath, let me breath! Harry's mind screamed, afraid that this was the end.

In desperation, Harry tried to yank his head away from her to free up his nose or buck her off his mouth but the straps held his head fast to the board. His lungs burned. He had to breathe, had to breathe, HAD TO BREATHE, his mind screamed in agony. He licked furiously away at her slit, up to her clit and then all around it. He licked below her clit, above it, in long strokes, in short flicks, in circles around the swollen nub, then directly on it in tight little circles.

"Ahhhhh, that's the spot Harry, good, good, I might even let you live a little longer; that's a good boy Harry. That's it Harry, yes, yessss, Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhh!"

She let go of Harry's nostrils with a sweep of her hand and Harry' nostrils exploded, expelling the built up carbon dioxide and sucking in air as quickly as he could. His chest expanded as far as it could under the tight straps holding him down.

Ahhhhhhh, Ahhhhhhhh, sweet bless-ed air. So good, so goood, Harry thought.

Harry continued licking - long swipes, short swipes, circles - clockwise, counterclockwise, dips with his tongue tip, flicks, probes. Harry tried everything he knew to get her off. After a while, his tongue was tiring.

"You're slacking off Harry. Looks like you do better without air. Pick up the pace or I'll pinch you off again and this time I won't let go until I cum. If you suffocate, I'll be sure to cum while you're in your death throes. That sort of thing really gets me off!" she laughed.

Harry redoubled his efforts, licking in circles around her clit, dipping into her wet tunnel for moisture and circling some more, flicking the head and sides of her clit with the tip of his tongue. She was now grinding her cunt into his mouth in small, tight circles, pressing her hot, wet, swollen, rubbery lips against his lips and nose, pressingher clit against his tongue. Her juices poured out of her and dripped down the sides of his face.

Suddenly, she exploded, fiercely gripping his ears and pressing herself to his mouth, she came in powerful spasms, squeezing his head between her thighs, pounding her cunt against his widely stretched, upturned mouth, juices spurting from her slippery hole, filling his mouth with her cum juice, the excess pouring down his cheeks, pooling around his neck. The spasms eventually slowed and then stopped with Harry's head squeezed tightly between her thighs, his ears held in a death grip which she yanked and pulled while she pressed herself into his mouth and nose again cutting off his air.

Again, Harry futilely flailed away, trying to shake her off, trying to free up his airway.

Slowly she released her grip and raised herself from his mouth and nose. Harry gasped for air, sucking in big gulps and exhaling hard, coughing uncontrollably. Laura smiled down at him and smoothed some of her cum juice across his cheeks with her thumbs.