Come to think of it there wasn't much that attracted me to her other than her body; nothing except perhaps the generally snotty and superior demeanor she affected around most guys.

Monica was a 19-year-old party girl, the kind whose sole existence was to snooze through the week until Friday night. When the weekend comes, Monica would come alive, spending every possible hour in the various nightclubs around the city.

She lived to dress to the nines, drink, dance, and generally torment as many men as she could by flashing and grinding her incredible body at them.

Monica is tall, about 5'11" or so, with very long, coltish legs, a supple ass, tiny waist. Her tight stomach is well-muscled because of all the dancing she does, and her breasts are surprisingly large for someone as thin as she is.

A firm set of 34C cup jugs proudly jutted out from her strong slim frame. Her blue eyes contrast beautifully with her reddish-blonde hair, and a slight frosting of freckles across the bridge of her nose give her a mischievous and innocent look.

A look that was totally offset by her club attire, high heel boots, black socks and tights that hugged her curves and left little to the imagination. She always wore a thong to avoid panty lines and split apart her already delicious ass-cheeks. A sports bra completed the ensemble worn over her black lace pushup bra.

Tonight was a continuation of every weekend for the group of friends I hung out with, including Monica. Since I lived close to downtown the gang would go out clubbing, get hammered, then crash at my place.

At the time I usually worked from out of my place on weekends doing network security checks for large corporations, so I always begged off the night scene, although I'd have a few beers with everyone, mostly to stare at the guys' girlfriends.

This night however, I had something special in mind. Monica hadn't brought her boyfriend-of-the-week with her, so I knew I could put my plan into effect. Instead of the normal twelve pack of beer we usually burned through, I hauled out a bottle of twenty year old scotch I had been saving up for a special occasion and took it upon myself to mix a few drinks in the kitchen for everyone.

The fact that I also slipped a rhinoceros sized batch of the local extra-strength insomnia remedy into each drink ... then doubled the amount in Monica's drink just to be safe.

Within half an hour everyone had either passed out, or was in the process of it. My buddy Bob and his girl- friend were snoozing together on the couch in my living room, and Monica and John where downstairs in the basement, Monica already asleep on the fold out bed, John woozily wandering around and bumping things.

Being the good friend I am (or a conspiring perverted freak) I helped him upstairs and into the bathtub.

Then I went downstairs again and locked the door to my basement, even though I knew no one would be interrup- ting us.

I switched on all the lights and had a look at the evening's entertainment.

Monica was sleeping soundly on her back on the foldout bed, oblivious to the world. Her lithe body was totally relaxed as I sat beside her and gently stroked her face. I smoothed out her blonde hair, done up in a loose bun, and trailed my fingers down her face.

She didn't react at all as I caressed her lips, nor when I ran my hand down her neck, across her sports bra and cupped one of her full, heavy breasts through the tight material.

I couldn't believe that I had this sexy 19-year-old all to myself tonight, to do anything to my sick little heart's desired.

I felt a little guilty and ashamed at what I was going to do, but that was something I would deal with at another time I wasn't going to stop now, no not now!

It was an incredibly hot night and Monica had been sweating freely throughout it, dancing and grinding her hot little body against half the guy population of the city. I could smell the raw odor of freshly dried sweat from her warm body, mixed with perfume and the booze she had drunk.

This was perfect. I wanted to experience every part of her body, live out every fantasy and fetish I could dream of while she slept, oblivious to my abuses.

I again squeezed her breast, then kneeled beside her and began running my hands all over her body. I stroked her flat tight tummy while rubbing her breasts through her sports bra, then slipped my hand between her legs, cupping the mound of her crotch through her skintight stretch pants.

Her clothes were damp with her sweat and I bent and quickly licked her stomach, dipping my tongue into her belly button. No response from the sleeping girl.

I moved up and kissed her on the lips, then cradled her jaw and slipped my tongue into her mouth, tasting the scotch that had done its work so well. It was time to begin.

I moved down to the end of the bed and untied Monica's boots, slipping them off. Her black socks were plastered to her feet with sweat from being in the footwear while she danced all night long.

I knelt in front of her and put my face against the stinking socks, inhaling Monica's odor. The socks were stretched tight across her toes and high arches, and the sharp smell of sweat from the damp socks was enough to get my dick harder than it already was.

I rubbed my face against her feet savoring the odor, then peeled one of the socks of her foot. I released my cock from my pants and began jerking off as I held the damp sock to my nose and inhaled the smell of the 19-year-olds foot sweat.

Now it was time for the final test. I bent over Monica's leg and ran my tongue along her instep, carefully watching her face for a reaction. Nothing. She didn't even move, and that magnificent chest was still rising and falling steadily in sleep.

I again licked the side of her foot, then underneath it, over her arch, tasting the slight salt of her sweat, reveling in the odor of her bare foot, and it's taste in my mouth. I ran my tongue along her toes, tasting her foot, then sucked on each toe while furiously pulling on my cock. This itself could have been enough for me, but I knew I had her for a while, so why not do more?

I opened her legs and buried my face in her crotch, again inhaling the aroma of her most intimate essence. Her skintight black stretch pants hugged her hips and groin so tightly I could feel the slight, soft bulge of her pubic hair through the material and I pushed my face between her legs harder.

Her aroma was strong, a heady musk that spoke volumes about the secrets she had been flaunting all evening, and I opened my mouth, tasting the entire bulge of her pubic area, surrounded by her essence.

I rolled Monica over onto her stomach and ran my hands across her rear, anticipating the glory hidden beneath her skimpy pants. With quivering hands (oh how long I had dreamt of this) I pulled the waist of her black stretch pants down over the swell of her ass cheeks, exposing a black thong separating her delicious ass- cheeks.

I worked the pants down just past the swell of her hips, then bent down and kissed her pale ass. I slipped a finger beneath the thong and ran it down the crack of her bum, feeling the heat between her ass- cheeks, then pulled the thong to the side.

Monica's pretty bare rectum was on display for me, a perfect round cavity nestled between her twin muscular buttocks. I leaned forward and tasted her delicate rosebud, jabbing into her bottom with my tongue, swirling it around the sleeping girl's anus, lapping at her butt-hole, burying my face between her cheeks and sucking.

At this point I was going mad with lust, I needed to penetrate this woman in some way. I covered my middle finger with saliva and rubbed it around the tight ring of her sphincter muscle, then slipped it into her asshole, up to the first knuckle.

I didn't want Monica to wake up sore, or to hurt her in any way; by not leaving any traces of my perversion, in some way I could justify this violation to myself. Once I felt her asshole unconsciously relax around my finger I worked it in deeper, to the second knuckle, then pushed it in all the way until the entire length of my longest finger was buried inside her asshole.

I could feel a throbbing heat around my hand as I slowly fingered her, and wondered if Monica ever let guys fuck her up the ass ... but I knew if I gave in to that desire she would certainly wake up with an unpleasant reminder of this encounter.

I had to get off soon, and if I couldn't take her up the ass I'd find another way to satisfy my most secret desires.

I pulled my finger from her ass and again rolled her over, then straddled her chest. I pulled off her sports bra and black push-up bra, yanking it over her head, letting her pale white breasts spill forth.

They were definitely big, a solid C cup, but she was in such good shape that her tits barely sagged. I bent and sucked on her nipples, holding a breast in each hand as I suckled them, surprised at the warmth of her tits.

As I sat astride her naked torso an idea came to me, and I happily spat on her chest, then held her tits together as I slipped my cock between them. The saliva lubricated them and I began to tit-fuck the sleeping 19-year-old, jacking off my cock between her firm tits as I stared at her pretty, pouty, snobbish face.

The whole experience had worked me over pretty well and I knew I would be blowing my load very soon. I furious- ly fucked my cock between her tits, then moved my body up on her, holding her pretty face by the chin in one hand as I jacked myself off with the other.

I leaned forward as I came, aiming my spurting cock right at Monica's sweet face. The first jet of semen hit her square across her cute freckled nose, then I pointed my dick right at her lips and pumped it, ejaculating onto her chin and cheeks.

Some of my come drooled into her open mouth, and I then slipped my cock into her sleeping mouth, past her teeth.

I felt the wet warmth of her tongue and the back of her throat and I dumped another few jets of come into her mouth, shuddering as I violated her.

I quickly checked to make sure she wouldn't choke on my semen, but the excess had run out of her mouth and across her cheek, pooling in her hair and on the pillow.

I collapsed down on the bed beside her, my heart pounding from the most erotic experience I had ever had. And yet, the night was young...

PART TWO BEGINS HERE

Monica Exacts Her Revenge (m/f, bondage, humiliation) by Phebe <phebe@pipeline.com>

------------------------------------------------------ Well the 1st author of this story invited us to come up with the further adventures of Monica Sleeps Over. I think the first author assumed that we would want to continue on that vein, but read on and find out. One thing about a story, there is never a corner that you can't write your way out of. -------------------------------------------------------

I closed my eyes to enjoy the pulse of my orgasm, grip- ping at my cock, and milking the last few spurts out. I imagined cum falling right on her docile mouth, and I opened my eyes to check if I was right on target. I looked down to be met with the leering glare of a see- thing, and very awake, Monica.

"You Pervert!" she screamed. "You fucking son-of-a- bitch!"

Lurching, she rolled out from underneath me, and catch- ing me off-guard, she flipped me to the floor. She quickly grabbed my hand, and slipped the knotted end of a stretch pant leg over my wrist. With a deft twist, she had me tied to the leg of the couch, under the bed.

I rolled to try to get away, but like a tiger, she was on me, grabbed another wrist and tied that to the cof- fee table with her stocking.

I could have probably writhed and twisted to get away, but I knew how valuable the items were on my coffee table, as innocuous as the African artifacts looked that I had brought back from my travels. I didn't want to break them. Besides, I wanted to find out exactly what Monica was going to do to me.

I realized, as I lay there, arms sprawled that I could not really kick her away. She was definitely in shape, as I had noticed watching her dirty dancing earlier that evening. She took her second stocking and used it to tie one of my feet to the side of the bed.

I did try to kick at her then, but she was quick, and stronger than I had imagined. She quickly forced a thumb into a pressure point behind my calf, a sharp jab of pain shot up my leg. I stopped moving, and let her tie me down. She used her push up bra to tie me to the other end of the coffee table, and there I was, spread-eagled, her standing over me, with a scowl on her face, disdain in her eyes.

"You have a lot of fucking nerve thinking that someone could sleep through you're jamming your finger up their asshole."

I felt a sinking sensation, realizing that she had been awake, feigning sleep during my whole little sick ritual. I thought about how I had smelled her panties, and fucked her tits, and cum all over her soft face.

That pretty face that I knew could turn into a raging bitch, as I was now witnessing. My dick twitched, realizing too, that she had been awake through the whole thing, yet had done nothing. Obviously, she had had some martial arts training, and was capable of stopping my efforts at any time. Yet she had chosen to just lie there.

"I thought you were sleeping." I said.

"You mean that shit you poured into my drink?" She scoffed. "I didn't drink that. I poured it into the cat dish. If she is dumb enough to drink it, I hope she dies."

I thought about my companion, a soft yellow cat with a melodic purr. Sometimes the cat was the only thing that kept me from feeling lonely. I hoped the cat wouldn't drink my concoction. I needed her company.

I looked over, and noticed Monica's panties, twisted into a distorted heap, and Monica's eyes followed my glance.

"Oh, you want to smell my panties now?" she surmised. "I can definitely give you plenty to think about. How do you like it, being the one at someone else's bay?"

Monica, the little witch, was definitely getting off on this. She promptly picked up the panties, and at once tied them around my face, the little triangle of nylon directly in front of my mouth and nose, like a surgical mask. I breathed in her scent, not sure if it really titillated me now, or not. I tentatively licked at the fabric, seeking her taste. She saw me and laughed.

"Well, that isn't going to work, now, is it?" and she snatched the panties off my head, as quickly as she had placed them there. She twisted them into a rope, and tied them around my face, gagging me, the triangle of cloth now inside my mouth, and the elastic biting into my cheek. I relaxed my jaw, surprised at the sudden turn of events, for I had imagined I would be the aggressor all night.

Monica stood up. She towered over me. She was almost naked. I had pulled her sports bra up around her neck to get between those gorgeous breasts, and she pulled it down to cover them, mooshing the mounds into a shapeless ridge, which rippled as she breathed. She stepped away, and found her heeled boots. She put them on, zipping the sides almost to her knees. She had been wearing a leather jacket, earlier in the evening, and she retrieved it, putting it on, the fabric falling to her waist.

Below the band of the jacket, her exposed pussy gaped as she walked, and I couldn't help but watch her dress. She was exotic, so tall above me, the heeled boots were intimidating.

Dressed, or as much as she could, considering I was tied up with the rest of her outfit, she walked over to me, the clip of her step in the boots ringing sharp- ly in the room. The room was lit mostly by the reflection of a street lamp into the basement room, which had been plenty of light for my evening's adventures on her body.

However, it was not enough light for Monica. She moved a table lamp to the coffee table, and turned the three- way bulb as high as it would go. The lampshade pro- tected her from the glare of the bare bulb, but from where I was laying below her, it basked a horrible whiteness into the room. I felt like I was going to be interrogated. But I wouldn't be able to answer, as I had a gag in my mouth.

In the stark light, the paleness of Monica's skin contrasted immediately to the dark leather of her jacket and boots. She pulled her hair up and ran her fingers through it, pulling it back from her face and swooshing it around. I had not noticed quite how long the blonde hair was, and I liked long hair. She noticed me watching her.

"So you want a show, do you?" she asked, knowing I could not give her an intelligible answer. I wanted to nod, but I decided not to give her the satisfaction.

She stood over me, straddling my chest, and I could see straight into the folds of her moist pussy, the dark circle of her anus, and her light hair billowing down around her. Her hand dropped to her pussy, and I was fascinated by the length of her red nails. She wore the false nails of a woman who did not have to do housework. They were a badge. An expression of her station in life.

I had always been amazed a woman would want to wear nails like that. I wanted to watch her, could she masturbate with nails like that? I imagined them being dragged across my back as her body contracted in an orgasm against me. Again, my dick pulsed in in- terest, but no, it was still not really ready for another session of fucking. She knew that. I could read it in her eyes.

"Oh you want me, don't you?" she said, "I have seen the way you watch me. I have noticed how you talk to me, with your superior attitude. You think, oh Monica is just 19, some blonde bimbo that you can just drug and fuck while she's sleeping. What kind of satisfac- tion could you get out of that?" she wondered aloud.

Plenty, I thought to myself, thinking back upon the events of the evening. I pretty much had had things under my control, or so I had thought. "Well," she said, starting to finger herself above my face. "You think you want me, you think your little experiment gave you some sort of satisfaction, well you ain't seen nothing yet." And she leaned forward so that the tips of her hair streamed down my face and shoulders. She flipped her head back and looked up.

From my vantage point, she was a huge resilient sky scraper, boots up to knees, this tantalizing pussy with red fingernails somehow missing as she rubbed herself, and blonde hair whisking back as she swished it over her head.

It had taken practice to get that move down. I focused on her hand. She was no longer looking like she was really into it, like she was playing there, like a kitten toying with a mouse before she ate it. I saw her clitoris as she slipped her greedy finger back and forth across it, then she pulled her hand away, and squatted down to me, giving me a glorious eyeful of pussy, clit and cunt.

Inches from my face, she took the long fingernail and scratched it across the clit. I could only imagine how that felt, maybe like the rake of a dental tool across your gum when you have your teeth cleaned. Monica did not seem to enjoy the sensation. She did it again. Her clit pulsed. She was scraping herself, and I could see the blood rush to the area where it had happened.

Ouch! I thought. That was something really bizarre. I felt my cock start to stiffen, nonetheless.

Now she clapped her hand over her pussy to stop that show and she lowered the light next to her with the other light. She started talking to me in this methodical tone, setting a trance on me, "So you want to watch me finger fuck myself, do you?" she said, almost in a whisper.

I had to strain to catch all the words, "You want me to put on a show for you, like I did when I was dancing earlier. Didn't you know I knew you were watching me, with perverted eyes, not sure what to think? Didn't you know that I knew you were trying to catch me vulnerable? I bet it just kills you that you know you got away with nothing. You only got to jack off on my face because I let you. Well, who is letting who do what now? Where's your control now?"

I have none. I wanted to say. I watched her turn on her heel, and imagined the sharp pain she could inflict with one of those boots. I watched her step away, her hand still blocking her pussy, to keep it from my view. As she turned, I enjoyed the softness of her beauti- fully curved butt though, so although she was blocking one view, she couldn't block it all, at least with only the clothes she had with her. She stepped out of my view for a moment.

I heard her boots clip clip to the window and twist the shades to block out the light. It was almost completely dark. I felt entirely at her mercy.

She stepped back over to where I was. She shone a tiny penlight down on me, right into my eyes. I moved my head to get out of the direct laser beam from the flashlight.

She had something else in her other hand, it coiled down from her hand. Omigod, I thought, she didn't have whip, did she? I couldn't imagine her having a whip. Where would she get a whip? I looked up into her face. She was totally into this game. Certainly, she could have a whip.

She may have done this sort of thing before. Hypno- tized, I lowered my glance to her hand. It wasn't a whip. It was an electric cord end. She stooped to plug it into the socket where the lamp had been plugged. What the hell did she have in mind now?

I heard the whirring of an electric motor. She came over to me, still standing like Goliath, and presented an electric vibrator. Funny, I thought, most of those were battery operated now.

I almost smiled in anticipation. I wanted to see her get off with the vibrator inches from my face. Oh how I wanted to see that.

But I didn't want to give her any indication. That seemed to make her want to hurt me. I thought that, and then stopped. Actually, so far, she hadn't done anything to me at all.

I did smile, but she probably couldn't tell, because of the gag I still had in my mouth. It was starting to get on my nerves, all the wetness from my mouth was spreading through the fabric and my cheeks were cold and clammy. And they ached from my holding my mouth slightly open so the elastic wouldn't dig in. She started to pantomime above me, like a stripper. She teased, and put the vibrator into her mouth, and brought it out again, seductively, in and out, stroking her mouth with the tool, like I had longed to do with my prick.

I felt it surge again, and knew I was almost up to the task of getting hard. I didn't know if that would be such a good idea or not. I didn't have any way to hide a flaming erection, but this situation was getting me aroused in a way I didn't know I could.

I watched the vibrator slide in and out of her mouth. It was dark, but I could imagine the brilliant frame of red lips around the light colored plastic. I wanted to see better.

Like she was reading my thoughts, Monica flipped on the light to the lowest level. I could see the tool go in and out, far deeper than most girls would have put something like that.

I began to swell, my one-eyed little man waking up from the post-sex stupor. She stroked the instrument in and out of her mouth seductively. With her other hand, she started stroking her pussy again.

I could see both simultaneously. I could also see the wicked grin as she ceremoniously bit at the head of the vibrator. Yikes! My hard-on diminished immediately. She laughed, knowing its effect without looking. Yes she had sharp, pretty white teeth. Red lips and sharp teeth.

She slid the damp hand from her pussy up to her sports bra and I could see the glisten of the trail of her juices as her fingers stroked their way upwards. She tilted that head back and arched, and pulled the sports bra off over her head.

Watching me carefully, she set the vibrator down, still on, and it made a rattling sound on the floor. She moved it, this time, setting it between my legs, just inches from my aching cock and balls.

It vibrated the rug under my ass, but the rug absorbed the vibration, and all I could do was hear the whine of the incessant motor and imagine it stroking against her beautiful blonde pussy.

She got down on her knees, straddled me, and cupped her breasts together. She bent down, and let the blonde hair again fall into my face, and I watched as she started to suck on her own nipple, the ample 36C breasts all in her face.

I could imagine that some of my cum was still there, and she licked at herself, hardening before my eyes in the soft lamplight. As she dipped down to show me that she could suck herself, the dampness of her pussy stroked against my belly. I barely moved.

Suddenly her hands dropped, and the breasts sprang forward. She moved a hand behind me and pushed the vibrator along on the floor. Now it was humming against my balls. I longed for her to touch my cock with those lovely white hands, but she wasn't about to pleasure me. Instead, she knew the hum of the vibrator was just enough friction to set the mood, and she started to stroke herself. Then she stopped.

"Oh enough of this old thing," she whispered, and moved her hand behind my head. In a second, the gag was loosened, and she took the panties, dripping with my saliva and held them out, one hand in front, and one hand in back, and she dragged the rope between her legs, like dental floss, the dripping wet fabric running up and back in her crack.

She moved it back and forth and I gasped, my mouth free. She was inches from my face. I felt like I could certainly arch my head forward, maybe if she would put a pillow beneath my head, I could eat her pussy, but she wasn't about to let me think that I could participate. I could only watch.

She lowered the twisted panties, now filled with her cunt juices and ran them back over my mouth, and I tasted them, eagerly. She let them drop by my head and crouched there, fingers against herself, in motion, dancing across the surface.

I watched her and she looked like she was finally going to lose it. She arched her back and she closed her eyes. From the floor, I could see her pussy, and the slump of her shoulders as she gave in, and the ripple of the orgasm through the soft skin of her stomach. She didn't make any sound. Then she lowered her cunt into my mouth and commanded "Eat me."

Not one to dispute this turn of events, I closed my eyes and complied. Closing my eyes, I could feel the ripple of the vibrator between my thighs more vividly, and could taste the sharp tang of her pussy. I wanted her to cum again, and I wanted to be the one to make her cum. I flicked my tongue against her clit, finding the rhythmic pulse that most women enjoy, and she dipped down into me, grinding against my face. I started to feel like I could really get her off, when suddenly she pulled up and stood above me.

"Close your mouth." She commanded. I did.

She lowered herself on my face again. She started grinding her pussy against my face, arching. I realized that she liked the way my beard stubble felt against those vulnerable places.

I watched her move her fingers down and flick them against her clit. I was certain she was going to jab me with her nails as she did so, but she had obviously practiced this before. I watched as her body writhed, and I felt a squish in front of my face as the release of juices from her body streaked down my neck.

Below, my cock was rock hard. I had lurched around a bit and now the vibrator was pressed up tight against my ass. She paused for a second above me, then stood, turned around and squatted, lining her pussy up per- fectly with my cock. With a swoosh, she lowered herself down on it, and bobbed there, feet still in her boots, still standing on the floor.

She could stand at any moment and be off, and I would feel like a candle that had just been dipped in wax, left there hanging. I tried not to think that she would do that, and closed my eyes, enjoying the sen- sation of her body pounding up and down on my erection, the back of her jacket, and the streaming blonde hair in front of me.

She clenched her vaginal walls, and came. She tossed her head and moaned, the climax obviously very ful- filling to her. The vibrator pulsed under me, and I was so close, certain I was going to come any instant. Then suddenly she stood up and walked away. Leaving me there.

She put on my jeans, which sagged on her body, and walked out the door.

Before she left, she scribbled some numbers on a piece of paper and tossed it at me. Then she called, "You didn't let me cum either. Call me if you are ever interested in doing this thing right."

And she left me there. On the floor. Hands tied. The paper drifted down to the floor. I could see that it had her phone number written on it in red lipstick.

The End