The Engagement Party-Part 2
By Wanderer
Janice plans Frank's seduction and now she tells him all about it


(If you missed Part 1 please check out the Wanderer bookshelf).

This is adult material. Please do not read if you are under age 21 or laws in
your country forbid you to do so. Any similarity to actual persons, living or
dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental.

Copyright 2001 by Wanderer

I know I passed out because the next thing I was aware of was being dragged
bodily across the ground. Evidently Janice had stopped her horse in a
clearing, dismounted, pulled my limp body off the horse and was now dragging
me by the scruff of my neck across the clearing to the edge of the meadow. I
felt myself being flung against the trunk of a tree and then she easily lifted
me to a sitting position, my back against the tree. How the hell did such a
slim woman get the strength to manhandle me with just one arm? She was tossing
me around so easily I was scared that one of her arms might be stronger than
both of mine together. I, a man, was being easily controlled and dominated by
an eighteen year old child. I was really scared now. Had she brought me here
to kill me?

Dimly, I could make out Janice's voice speaking to me. "Now listen here, you
simple minded dolt, you're obviously not much of a man, but I need you to do
my bidding, so if you want a future you'll do as I say. No doubt my brother
has told you I have attended an all girls private school to this point. My
parents didn't want me dealing with the riffraff of the world. Also they
didn't want some pimply faced teenager knocking me up. But attending an all
girls school has its drawbacks. On Tuesday afternoons we would hold our weekly
teas, white gloves, cookies. We invited the young men from the neighboring
boys school. They came the first time and we girls sat there with our legs
tightly closed together and we politely discussed the weather. They never came
again, and every Tuesday we girls sat there and talked to each other,
practicing polite conversation and good manners.

"Once a month we had a dance. For the first dance we invited the boys from the
neighboring military academy. We had a string quartet and they played waltzes
and fox trots and we danced holding each other at arms length. For the second
monthly dance no boys came and we girls wound up dancing with each other. Do
you know I have never kissed a boy? And I'm eighteen years old. I am going to
change that. Next semester I am attending your and my brother's university and
I don't intend to be a naïve, vulnerable freshman. I need to know all there is
to know about boy-girl relationships and you will teach me."

"But---" I started to say, and was stopped by a vicious gloved hand slap to my
face.

"What did I tell you about starting a sentence to me with 'but'?" she said.

"Now just a God damn minute---" I said as I struggled to my feet, using the
tree trunk for support, to be met by a smashing left hook that promptly
knocked me back down to the ground again. I was getting the hell beat out of
me by a five year younger girl who I was a couple inches taller than, and who
I outweighed by fifty pounds at least, maybe seventy-five. Maybe she was
right. Maybe I am a wimp. For some reason, maybe loss of my manhood, my tears
began to flow again.

Janice stood in front of my slumped over body, feet spread apart, ready for my
next move. Seeing that I wasn't going to make one she reached down and grabbed
a handful of my shirt and with one hand lifted my body to my wobbly feet.
"Don't feel badly" she said, evidently taking pity on me, "our security men
have been teaching me self defense since I was five years old. I think almost
any kidnaper who attacked me would rue the day he hatched the plan. You're
lucky I like you, otherwise I might have to hurt you." If this was liking me
I'd hate to see what would happen to me if she didn't like me.

"P--p--please, could we go back now?" I begged. "I--I'm quite exhausted, it's
been a big day for me."

"All right," she said, "I'll explain what's required of you on the ride back."
Then, seeing how wobbly I was on my feet, she bent down and easily threw me
over one shoulder and carried me to where the horse was grazing. When we got
there she placed her right hand on my butt and kind of heaved me off her
shoulder and steadied me with her left hand on my chest so that I was in a
sort of semi-erect position, like I was sitting on her right hand. In this
position, still being balanced by her left hand, she lifted me up higher and
ordered me to "Throw your right leg over the horse's neck!" I was astounded at
this girl's strength. She was handling my 190 pounds as easily as if I was a
sack of oats for her horse. It was unbelievable. I did as I was told and found
myself sitting upright on the horse and Janice climbed up behind me, her hands
encircling my waist as she grabbed the reins, and we moved out toward the
mansion.

I was scared to death, never having been on a horse before. O.K., you can
laugh, but some people are afraid of flying, or spiders, or snakes. I closed
my eyes as we went along, but I could feel her strong arms around me,
especially when we were jumping hedges and fences, and somehow I felt safe
because her strong arms were holding me securely in place. I felt her gentle
breath on my left ear as her head was close to my shoulder, but then she
started to direct her breath right to my ear, and then she started to nibble
on my ear lobe. What was going on?

For answer, Janice said, "From girl conversation, I understand that men find
that stimulating," and she reached down to my groin and she could feel my
arousal. "I can see that is an effective technique," she said.

"W---wh---what do you want from me?" I asked, in a quavering voice.

"No effort need be expended on your part," she informed me. "I merely need to
prepare myself for any encounter I may experience with the male sex when I
enter university this next semester. As I told you, I have never kissed a boy,
my only encounter with boys my age has been at one or two chaperoned dances at
my family's country club, and therefore I intend to use you tonight to gain
knowledge of the proper responses expected of me, and my choices."

"You're going to learn all that in one night?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm an apt pupil," she giggled, "and I expect that you will make an
adequate teacher."

"Well, I dunno," I said," you seem to get very physical when I do something
wrong, and ---well---to be honest you're kind of scary. How did you get so
strong? You're smaller than I am, and lighter, but you've been beating me up
all day and I really hurt from your whippings. You knock me down before I can
even get a hand up to defend myself. You've got a punch like a mule. Girls
just don't do that to guys and hope to have any kind of romantic relationship
with them. I mean, we have egos. We're not used to having the female be in
charge, or being stronger than we are. We need you to be pathetically weak, so
we can protect you. It helps us be macho. It's what makes us men."

"I'm not really sorry," she said. "We have limited time and you need to learn
to obey me. I don't have time to train you." Train me? "You see this horse
you're riding? Well, he used to have a mind of his own. I've had him for
years, and when we first started, if he came to a fence he didn't feel like
jumping he would stop short and throw me off. Well, after a couple times of
getting thrown, this horse and I had a little talk. I hit him. Yes I did.
Right on the nose. The horse went to his knees. He was shocked. Immediately I
gave him a kiss on his nose and I rubbed it softly so he knew I was his
friend, he just had to obey me. Now, if he ever looks like he won't take a
jump, I just squeeze his ribs a little and he knows I'm serious. Oh, I don't
think I could break his ribs, and I wouldn't want to, but I squeeze him enough
so that he has trouble breathing, so he knows I mean business. He hasn't
disobeyed my commands since, even if he thinks he can't make the jump, but he
always does, so he trusts me.

"I believe the same approach is proper with the male of the human species. One
should strike them violently so as to bring them to their knees. Then they
should be lifted to their feet and given a kiss on the nose or the mouth to
show that they are forgiven for their transgression. You will notice that I
have used that approach in my treatment of you, and I observe that you are now
quite malleable. I do not believe I will find it necessary to discipline you
to any great extent in the future. I am sure you will follow my commands to
the letter." All this from a mere eighteen year old girl.

"H---how---how did you get so strong for such a skinny girl?" I asked,
timidly.

"Well, I'm not really skinny," she said. "I appear to be slim because I'm
actually quite muscular, but that isn't apparent through my outer clothing.
Much of my weight is concentrated in my musculature. I'm 5' 10" and I weigh
180 pounds, and that isn't much less than you weigh, I'm sure. You have
probably observed by now that there was never any need that arose in my family
members' lives that we didn't have staff to provide it for us. But there was
one thing my father insisted on, and that was if we were to have animals as
pets we care for them totally ourselves. Consequently, when I wanted my own
horse when I was five years old I had to agree to care for it. I shoveled
manure out of the stalls, I groomed the horse, I saddled it , I curried it, I
moved bales of hay, I stacked them high, I brought them down, hundreds of
them, thousands of them over the years. I guess the extensive physical effort
contributed to my building a significant musculature on a naturally slim body.
However, I am able to conceal it with proper attire, and I appreciate it since
it gives me confidence when I find it necessary to confront the average male,
such as yourself. I do believe I'm even stronger than my brother, who is four
inches taller than I am, and 25 pounds heavier, because, although he was also
required to care for his pets, he selected a dog, and he disdained horses,
except to ride them in polo matches. I must challenge him sometimes," she
giggled, "I do believe that I am his physical superior, just as I am yours.
You will do what I say, because of your fear of me and my physical domination,
won't you?"

"Y---yes'm," I answered.

"That's a good boy," she said, reaching under my armpit and patting me on my
crotch. All the time the horse had been carrying us toward the mansion. Janice
held me firmly with her strong arms around my waist as she held the reins.
When we started the afternoon I had been almost deathly afraid of horses and
riding, but somehow now I felt very safe with Janice's arms encircling me and
holding me in place. I had my eyes closed mostly, especially when we jumped a
hedge or a fence. All this time Janice had been licking my ear and nibbling my
ear lobe and observing my response in my groin, and now she said, "Here is
what I will require of you. My parents retire to their third floor apartment
every evening at precisely 10 P.M., no exceptions, unless they are attending a
social function or a charity function. Therefore you are to proceed down the
hall to my suite at exactly 10:30 P.M. Be on time or the penalty will be
severe. The door will be open. Your manservant will lay out silk pajamas for
you tonight. Wear them. Do you understand my instructions?"

"Yes'm," I said. All the fight had been knocked out of me by this eighteen
year old sister of my college roommate, and I wasn't about to challenge her
anymore. If I had any thoughts of being rebellious my fear of her overcame
them. I couldn't sneak out. I was sure my chauffeur, Franz, wouldn't transport
me to the airport without instruction to do so from the Witherington family,
so I was trapped.

Promptly at 10:30P.M. I Proceeded down the long hallway to Janice's suite.
Timidly I pushed the door open to observe Janice sitting at a magnificent
dressing table, arranging her hair, dressed in a very sexy teddy. If she went
to a prim and proper all girls school where did she learn about such sexy
clothes? Out of her riding breeches and her tailored coat and her leather
riding boots, and with her hair now down and falling softly around her
shoulders, she was an enormously appealing female. I could really characterize
her as a vision of loveliness, and I could feel a response begin to arise
already in my groin area. She could see my reflection in the mirror, and
without turning around she said "Come in, Frank."

As I entered I was momentarily stopped short in my tracks as I watched the
play of muscles in Janice's arms and back as she arranged her hair. It was
incredible-for such a slim bodied girl. For any girl, for that matter. For
most men, even. High peaked biceps. From the reflection of the front of her
biceps in the dressing table mirror those biceps looked big, big, certainly
bigger than mine, which I was beginning to feel very self- conscious about.
Her biceps weren't as big as my sisters, whose biceps measured 25", but on
Janice's slim body they appeared to be almost as big in proportion to her body
size. I'll bet her biceps were bigger than her brother Jim's, and he had spent
the last year working out at our university weight room so he could hold his
own against my sister Maddy. To my shocked gaze, I thought "Shit, what comes
between an orange and a cantaloupe?" And her back was very broad, I could see
her lats spread out as she moved her arms, and her trapezius were very sharply
defined, and very big. Evidently working out with bales of hay every day was
every bit as good as working out with weights in a gym five times a week.

"What are you staring at?" Janice inquired.

"You---you have big muscles," I stammered.

"Bigger than yours?" she giggled.

"Well---well, maybe," I fudged.

"Come over here and have a seat and we'll compare," she said.

I looked around for a place to sit, but I didn't see one close.

"Come sit!" she ordered.

"But where?" I asked, bewildered.

"What did I tell you about starting a sentence with 'But' when you talk to me
?" she snapped.

"I---I'm sorry," I stammered, "I don't see a place to sit."

"On my lap, you idiot!"

"Oh," I said, sheepishly. I moved towards her. I couldn't help but notice that
even at rest her quadriceps in her legs seemed very well defined, one might
even say big. I guess up and down on a horse, rising to take a jump, and
pressing the legs hard against the horse's sides does a lot for the leg
muscles.

Gingerly I sat myself down on one thigh. She spread her legs to accommodate
me, and I sat on her left thigh. I could feel how hard that thigh was as I sat
myself down. I thought maybe it would be soft and squishy, but I could feel
the hardness under my butt. It was like sitting on a wooden park bench, and
the muscles definition felt like the wooden slats you feel when you sit on the
bench. Evidently horse back riding and throwing around bales of hay does a lot
for your legs.

I sat on Janice's thigh, feeling mighty uncomfortable. This was not the usual
way a seduction should go. Janice gazed at me thoughtfully, then said,
"Produce your penis." I was shocked.

"Oh, no," I said, "that's not the way it's done."

"Well, I touched it this afternoon when we were riding together on my horse,
and I could feel it expand, but now I'd like to observe it in action."

"Are you nuts---?" I started to say, but she cut me off.

I hate silly arguments," she said. "You know I'm going to have my way in the
end. You don't have the strength to oppose me, you'll do what I say." While
Janice was saying that she was reaching into my pajama bottom and pulling out
my penis which was already responding to her touch.

As she toyed with it she said, "I have never before viewed this appendage
(Funny, I never before thought of it as an appendage). I asked my brother Jim
once if I might inspect his, but he demurred. I don't imagine it's a sacred
entity, but you men are highly protective of it. Nevertheless, I intend to
inspect yours more thoroughly tonight and evaluate its performance. Since this
will be my first time I shall require that you perform in a satisfactory
manner, otherwise I may find it necessary to punish you severely." Now I was
really getting scared. I'm not very good at performing under pressure, and my
experience so far with this girl told me that she meant what she said, and
that she could do it, too.

Having satisfied herself with a view of my "appendage," Janice released it and
said, "OK, sweetie, let's take off your pajama top and see what you've got." I
fumbled with the buttons of the pajama top, not sure what was going to happen,
but Janice was evidently a person with very little patience. "Oh, for heaven's
sake," she said, and with very little effort she just ripped the top off me,
buttons flying everywhere.

"OK, you're the big strong man, flex your biceps," she ordered.

I did the best I could. Now I'm athletic, I engaged in a lot of sports in high
school and college, I'm well toned, and I'm proud of my arms, they may not be
very big, but they're very solid. They measure about fourteen inches, and
that's without ever spending much time in a weight room. My roommate Jim spent
all last year in the weight room because he didn't want to be too embarrassed
by my sister Maddy's enormous arms when they were together, but I had no such
incentive. So I flexed as hard as I could and I thought I did pretty good.
Janice put her hand on my right bicep and squeezed. Well, she had a grip like
a stevedore. She squeezed me so hard it hurt, and I had to let go.

Well," she said, "I've seen worse--on girls," she giggled

"OK, wise guy," I said, embarrassed, "let's see yours." I shouldn't have
asked. As I sat on her leg she flexed her right bicep in front of my eyes.
"Damn," was all I could think of to say. It was unnatural. No female could
have such biceps, except my sister. And this girl had never even seen a
weight, except for bales of hay. My muscle was really puny in comparison. Why
did I have two women in my life who could make me feel so inadequate? I was
beginning to feel that God was punishing me for something I had done in
another life.

"You can touch," she said, "they won't bite--unless you're bad," she giggled.

Timidly I raised my left hand to settle on her right arm where her bicep was,
as she held her right arm straight out. Then Janice clenched her fist and
slowly, very slowly, flexed. I could feel the bicep increase in size as I
tried to keep a tight grip on her upper arm, but it was useless as the greatly
expanding muscle spread my fingers apart. I let out an involuntary audible
gasp as viewing this mass of muscle while sitting on her lap this close
magnified my view of every vein and every quivering muscle fiber as she
strained to make the bicep as big as possible.

"How--how big is it? I asked, afraid of what the answer was going to be.

"Only 18" in circumference," she answered--I felt faint-"but I seem to be able
to do things that even men with much bigger muscles find it hard to do. I can
take a bale of hay from the barn floor, raise it straight up and over my head,
and then press it up and down. I did it once a hundred times, until I just got
bored and stopped. I think it's the hardness that makes a difference. I think
the muscle fibers are packed together very tightly, giving me more effective
power than a normal 18" bicep might give. Here, I'll show you."

Janice rose from her dressing table seat and before I could scurry away she
had placed an arm on my neck and one on my upper thigh and easily pressed me
over her head. "Just as easy as doing it with a bale of hay," she giggled,
"First time I've done it with a man, though. Up, down, up, down, wow, it's
more fun doing it with a scared man than a bale of hay. You are scared of me,
aren't you, sweetie? I can feel you shaking. Don't lie, I punish liars
severely," the slim eighteen year old admonished me.

"P--p--please, Janice, this is no way to start off our relationship," I
begged. "Yes, you--scare me, because you're so --so--dominating--er--
controlling--I mean, you always want your way, couldn't we talk things over,
please?" I begged.

"You know, you're the first male I've ever had a relationship with, coming
from a private girls school. I always thought you men were such heroes, so
brave, so strong, so intelligent. Look at the literature. You're masters of
the universe. Yet here you are, a male, begging me, a slip of a girl, not to
beat you to a pulp. You're such a wimp. I'm probably smarter than you, I'm
certainly stronger than you, I could probably turn you over my knee and spank
you, like a naughty five year old child, if I wanted to." All this time Janice
was effortlessly holding my trembling body over her head. Then she brought me
down and set me on my feet so that we were standing there, practically eye to
eye, although I was a couple inches taller than she was, this slim girl in her
sexy teddy and myself, a twenty-three year old man with an athletic build,
weighing in at 190 pounds, but shaking like a leaf, scared to death of what
this eighteen year old child was going to do to me next.

After a few moments of gazing deeply into each others eyes she said, "Kiss
me." Ordinarily this is an offer I don't refuse, but Janice and I were going
to be almost related after Maddy and Jim married, so this was a very awkward
moment for me.

"Well--l--l" I began, only to be stunned by a very hard slap across my right
cheek which I didn't even see coming.

"I despise 'well' as much as I do 'but,'" she said. "You are never to use that
word to begin a sentence to me again, do you understand?"

"But," I said, only to now be brought to my knees by a fist connecting
violently with my left cheek.

"For goodness sake," Janice said, "you have to be one of the stupidest men on
earth, or else you enjoy being punished. What did I tell you about using the
word 'but' with me? Next time I may have to seriously hurt you to teach you a
lesson. Now I ordered you to kiss me. I'm eighteen years old and I've never
been kissed, except, of course, a friendly peck on the cheek by my daddy or my
brother. Disobey me once more and you'll probably never make it to your
sister's engagement party. Now--kiss me!"

Gingerly I placed my trembling lips against hers in what appeared to be the
semblance of a kiss, but I was really scared of this vixen. "Oh, my goodness,"
she said," is that what a kiss is? Why, it's nothing. Why in the world does
everybody make such a big deal out of it? Unless, of course, you are such a
poor excuse for a man that you don't even know how to perform the act," Janice
said.

Well, I wasn't feeling like much of a man just then, and evidently I had just
proved it. I resolved to do better. I opened my mouth, pressed my lips to
hers, pressed my tongue against her teeth and licked around her lips, and when
a sigh escaped her opened mouth I inserted my tongue and probed around. I
heard another sigh and felt her body relax and lean into mine, hard. "Oh my,
oh my," she said, "what have I been missing? Damn my parents and that all girl
school!"

I felt myself being lifted up and cradled in her strong arms. Janice carried
me to her enormous bed.

Well, we chased each other around on that huge bed all night long. Janice,
having been deprived of any intimacy with the opposite sex for all of her
eighteen year life, was insatiable. A couple times was enough for me, but for
Janice it was merely a warm-up. Soon she was the predator and I was the prey.
She had locked the bedroom door to keep anyone out, but now it also kept me
in. After the third or fourth time I would run away and cower in the corner.
Janice thought it was part of the game. Giggling, she would come after me. She
would easily pick me up in her muscular arms and carry me back to the bed,
where, before I had a chance to move, she would straddle me, and, for a girl
who never had intercourse before, she devised all sorts of ways to stimulate
an erection from me again. She didn't need any coaching, she just had a
natural talent.

After about the sixth or seventh time Janice says to me, "I can see now where
the vulnerability of men lies. Physically you can be controlled by your
genitalia and emotionally you can be controlled by your genitalia. And, if you
are representative of the average American male, then in any relationship my
physical development should enable me to maintain dominance. The staff has
been whispering it around that your sister is an Amazon--I can hardly wait to
meet her--but it's nice to know that when we cross paths again at some family
function you're going to have to play the game my way. In short, if you ever
cross me I'll have to whip your ass, and worse, understand?"

As I lay in bed, being ravished by my roommate's sister, a number of thoughts
crossed my mind. If I formed a liaison with her my future in the Witherington
family company would be guaranteed. Would she accept me as her husband? Would
we be compatible? She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself right now. She
wasn't my sister Maddy, but she could obviously overpower me physically
anytime she was of a mind to. Could I spend a lifetime playing the submissive
role to my dominant female partner, being used by her sexually whenever she
was in the mood, rather than when I felt the urge? Would a lifetime guarantee
of employment in the family business let me subvert my masculine ego? As I let
go of another load of semen somehow the hope and then the hopelessness of my
dilemma overtook me and tears came to my eyes, and then my body began to
tremble. Janice, seeing my shaking, was alarmed and got off me and stood by
the side of the bed.

"Are you OK?" she asked. "Did I hurt you? Oh, I'm so sorry, please tell me
what's wrong." Then she easily picked me up in her strong arms, cradled me to
her bosom, and carried me over to the chaise lounge and sat with me in her
lap, holding me tightly.

"What's wrong?" she repeated again.

"Nothing," I responded, "I'm just so happy," I lied.

She rocked me back and forth on her lap, like a mother does with her baby, my
head resting on her shoulder, until I fell asleep, exhausted from the night's
activities, thoughts of being draped over her sturdy thighs, being whipped
with a riding crop across my ass for the slightest indiscretion, alternating
with thoughts of barking orders to a flock of underlings from the massive desk
of my immense corner office in a Fortune 500 company floating through my mind.

I slept fitfully.

(In the next part of this story Maddy meets Jim's parents, or, probably more
precisely, Mr. and Mrs. James Witherington II meet Maddy).