This is a story of a girl. A wallflower, someone who did not draw too much attention to herself. Someone who sat quietly in class while the boys threw paper balls around the classroom, while girls gossiped about the latest couple in school. This comes from a time, when smartphones had yet to be released and when MSN messenger was the go-to platform for ‘project meetings’.
This girl was a plain Jane, so we shall call her Jane in this story. Just an average girl in an average secondary school. Her grades were decent, but not good enough that it drew attention. She had no interesting hobbies, nothing on her that people could gossip about. In fact, the most interesting thing about her was that she was a bookworm, never to be seen around school without a storybook in her hand that was thicker than any of her textbooks.
Once the school bell rang, Jane was always one of the first students out of school, disappearing right under her classmates’ noses. No one notices her, not that anyone bothered to anyway. Jane rushed to the bus stop, and always manages to grab a bus which was not infected with students who just ended school.
She makes her way to the library, a home away from home. She had one of those stepdads who abused her and her sister frequently, so Jane spent as much time as possible at the library, claiming to be studying. Yet, her real reason to be here was to be with her friends, her fictional friends from lands far away, where snow, floods and earthquakes were common, where magic flowed in people’s veins.
Being in secondary school, no one bats an eyelid as Jane heads up to the adult section, where there were no kids screaming and where there were thicker books that appealed more to her. Jane picks up a new novel today, not sure of whatever she was reading, not sure who she will be meeting today.
Sitting down in a quiet corner of her choosing, Jane opens up her book and allows the words to welcome her into its ink-based world. She opens this book without realising that this book will change who she is, a book that will create someone new within her.
Being a book catered to the older crowd, Jane was still unaware of the themes these books carried within, themes that she was not ready for. Today, that book was one such book. A book set in Ancient Greece, set in the midst of a war.
Jane continued to read word after word, the printed words forming images in her mind like that of a movie. She watched as characters were portrayed sexually, when the heroine herself was raped, where men revealed their deepest and darkest sexual fantasies.
“… The general stood facing the captured princess and king, both of whom were held in chains underneath the deepest dungeon that their castle had, a castle that they once called home.”
It was as if Jane was with them, feeling the cold of the dungeon against her skin, seeing the princess in her ragged clothes and the king with his frayed beard.
“Giving an evil smile, the general once again asked the king to beg for mercy, to surrender his castle and ask his troops to lay down their arms against the rebel forces. The king lay silent, not wanting to break the morale of his men, loyal men fighting for freedom, fighting for their homes.
The general shook his head, annoyed by the king’s stubbornness. He walked over to the princess in chains, noting how beautiful she was, even with her clothes in such a disarray. In fact, the dirt and grime in the dungeon only served to let her beauty stand out even more.
Taking his spear, he prodded it under her chin, lifting up her head to observe his beauty for himself.”
Jane felt her chin being tilted upward by the words, and she felt for herself the point of the spear just above her throat.
“She was a beauty indeed. The tales did not lie. With one swift stroke, the general brought his blade down the front of whatever remained of the princess’s garments, her bare skin revealed to the general, skin untouched by the eyes of mere men.
The king expressed an expression of shock, looking away from his daughter’s state of undress. The princess closed her eyes, ashamed of her nakedness. The general only laughed, his eyes aflame with evil intentions.”
Jane felt for herself the state of the princess’s undress despite still having her uniform on. She traced a finger down the front of her clothes, as if a blade was being drawn down the centre of her torso. She tried to feel for herself what the princess would have felt, naked before at least two men in a dark dungeon, only lit by torches.
“The general grabbed the princess by her throat, pulling her upright till she stood on tiptoes, her eyes still closed in defiance, defying the inevitable. With his other free hand, her brought down his fingers upon her face of beauty with a loud and audible slap, one that echoed through the dungeons.
The princess only gasped from the pain, while her father stay knelt upon the cold stone, his body shaking with anger and tears flowing from his eyes. The general only slapped her once more, feeling triumphant at the helplessness of the royal family before him.”
It was as if Jane was being slapped herself, having been beaten by her stepdad before. Yet, she was aware of the nakedness of the princess, and she felt like she herself was being abused and humiliated, right before her very own father. She felt a tingle down her bare skin, and a flush rushed to her cheeks, reddened as if she was really slapped.
“A full-grown man, the general was well-aware of the weaknesses of the human body. If force could not break her, perhaps pleasure would. With force, he tore apart whatever remaining cloth there was on the princess’s body, allowing her to stand fully naked in front of her father.
The princess stood shivering from the cold, shaking from the pain dealt to her cheeks. She felt her nipples harden with the cold air upon her bare breasts, sore and erect with blood. The general only laughed at her helplessness, and softly drew his fingers over her naked chest.”
Jane felt as if she herself was molested. Nipples that she never felt before were suddenly very sensitive to her, pushing outwards from her chest. In the cold of the library, she felt the soft fabric of her training bra touch against her nipples, the general himself was there, touching her young body.
“He continued to touch her, totally ignoring the kneeling king barely an arm’s length away. He dragged his fingers across her mounds of flesh gently, feeling the smooth skin under his callused fingers. He observed as the princess seemed to relax a little, yet she still pursed her lips, maintaining silence. Without warning, the general gave the princess’s nipples a pinch, causing her to give out a little cry of pain at the sudden pressure upon her already sensitive nipples.”
Jane jumped a little at the sudden development, moving her hands upwards to cover her breasts on instinct. This, as she would later know, was not a good move to make. Her hand’s pressure on her breast also felt like something new to her, and thankfully she managed to bite down upon her lips just in time to muffle her moan into a squeak. This feeling was new to her, unexplored, unknown.
One would think nothing of this young girl in a school uniform, just someone who was really absorbed into the thick novel she was currently reading, barely able to contain her excitement. Little did they know.
“The general traced his hands all over the naked princess, each stroke getting lower and lower…”
Jane moved her fingers down, slowly touching herself, her other hand holding the book firmly, turning the page when necessary.
“He came to a rest before her navel, his hands inches above her naturally grown public hair, hair that was just as lush as the hair upon her royal head. He lifted his fingers up and bent down to see her better, and to get a better view of her lower body. He continued his gentle strokes once more, starting from her knees upwards…”
And Jane followed, placing her free hand upon her knee, gently.
“He stroked upwards, gently moving his old hand along her smooth inner thigh.”
And Jane also moved her hands up, up her school skirt. She felt a warm flush, her skin more sensitive than it should be. It felt forbidden, wrong, yet it felt good.
“He reached her private region, which seemed to be oozing a different sort of heat compared to the rest of the body. Being a full-grown man accustomed to lots of sexual pleasures, he could distinctly smell the scent of arousal in the air in the deep, dark dungeon. The princess moaned – the first audible sound she made – in pleasure, sensing feelings she never experienced before.”
Jane moved upwards to cup the mound of her young pussy, feeling warm between her legs. Her skirt was hitched up by her arm, but no one was around to see. She felt the slight moisture upon her privates, and somehow she knew where would feel good. She moved her hands in circles below herself, imagining herself being touched instead.
“The general then stroked her privates, running a finger along her thin, unused clit, untouched by any man.”
Jane shifted her panties to the side to gain access to her privates, her bare hands a different feeling altogether from being touched over her panties. She groaned a little moan as she stroked her fingers up and down upon her slit, feeling the new sensation of wetness upon her fingers.
“The princess continued to moan despite being fondled by her captor, her body a slave to her own erotic desires.”
Without care for her surroundings – not that she needed to – Jane continued to stroke herself, feeling her first touch of her engorged and aroused clit. Knowing how it felt exceptionally good there, she continued to touch herself there, running circles around her little button.
“Then all of a sudden the general tilted his finger and plunged it deep inside her. The lubrication of her arousal allowed his finger for easy entry, and she did not feel the pain, only pleasure as she was fingered by the kingdom’s sworn enemy right in front of her father.”
Jane tried for herself, lowering her wet finger slowly to the entrance that was inviting her. It was easy to find, the source of the wetness, the source of the womanly warmth between her legs. She eased her own fingers deep into herself, stifling a moan as she felt herself being filled up by her fingers.
She started to discover herself, feeling for herself the soft, sensitive spots deep within her. She continued to stroke, feeling the pleasure build upon pleasure created by an earlier stroke, pleasure building up for some sort of great release.
“The general wiggled his fingers deep inside his captive princess, his fingers exploring her unexplored caverns, her untouched innocence. He was forceful yet gentle at the same time, and with each time he plunged his finger deep inside her again, the princess moaned, her cries of pleasure drowning out the sobs of her father just barely metres away.”
And then Jane felt it, the first wave of unexplainable pleasure and release. Underneath her school skirt and with her fingers knuckle deep within her, her pussy gave out a spasm as the first wave of orgasm hit her, then another and another was the words on the book rolled into an image of pleasure on her imagination.
She was unaware if she actually let out a moan, but she was shaking from the overbearing pleasure that wrecked her over and over again, her knees pressed together and her fingers wet inside her, feeling every time her young vagina clenched its soft muscles around her.
When she finally did recover from her climax, Jane could feel each pump of blood that flowed through her, and she felt light-headed and faint. She felt her vagina still throbbing, the vestiges of her first orgasm leaving her.
Her breath came in quick breaths, and she slowly placed her panties back to where they below, and she cleaned her wet fingers upon her school skirt.
Jane shut the book she held, marking where she stopped reading and where pleasure took over. Walking to the book borrowing machine, she could feel her moist underwear between her legs, and a slight stickiness of her bodily fluids upon her inner thigh.
She scanned the book, and carried the book in her hands, leaving the library with no one taking a look at her, just like the way she entered, just like the way she went everywhere else.
And that, is the story of how a plain Jane found her first orgasm, and many more to come, with a book – A book with a heroine named Jezebel.