Just Alex

Just Alex Just Alex

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Alexandra, is a young 16 going on 17 year old virgin who's never made a true friend. When her boyfriend and her best friend conspire to punish her behind her back, she's thrown into the underground sex-slave trade. How will she ever manage?

Summary

Alexandra, is a young 16 going on 17 year old virgin who's never made a true friend. When her boyfriend and her best friend conspire to punish her behind her back, she's thrown into the underground sex-slave trade. How will she ever manage?

Prolog (v.1) - My Worst Nightmare

Author Chapter Note

Ok, so I decided to make a prologue to this, and I'll be reupdating Chapter 1 shortly after so it can be a bit longer and more detailed and generally more pleasing. So, please bear with me while I do that and accept this. I tried to add in some new content as well as old content, so here you go!

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 02, 2016

Reads: 1373

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 02, 2016

A A A

A A A

Sex. For me it was a world I never dared to explore. I had heard about it extensively, but in actuality I was naïve. At 16, I had never even dreamed of having sex, of watching porn, or even of masturbating. It wasn’t like I was uncomfortable with the subject, or that I didn’t have any sexual desires, it was just that I held them in. For me, a sheltered only child, the world of sex was so far away from my own that I never truly imagined that it would one day become a part of my life. But life has a way of surprising you in the strangest ways.

 

If I recall correctly, it all started one afternoon in mid-September. The whole day had been rather ordinary. The day was hot, but the stagnant air was swept out by a constant fall breeze that seemed to drag fallen leaves with it wherever it went. Since it was a Friday, all of the students went to school in the morning and hung out in the large courtyard provided to us during break on nice days like these. That’s when I first heard the rumor. Melody had come up to me with a cheery face congratulating me on the news.

 

Melody was the closest thing I had ever really had to a real friend, and as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, it was probably because I didn’t see her as any threat to me. I mean, sure if she tried she could probably get decent grades instead of the F’s and D’s that littered her report card almost every semester, but she would never truly be able to compete on my level.

 

Being a Bell, ever since I was born great things were expected of me. I was to achieve the highest grades and I was expected to be the best in everything I could be, all to raise my own parents social standing. It wasn’t really a surprise to anyone then, when I’d been made 1st singles on the tennis team, 1st chair for the cello section in the Orchestra, and started taking Dual credit Calculus my Junior year of highschool in addition to being in four other AP classes. So I was used to being congratulated, but this time I had no idea what she could be talking about. There hadn’t been any great achievement that I’d done yet, after all the school year was still young.

 

Still, it was news to me, and I couldn’t deny that it intrigued me. Well, before I actually heard what it was that I’d done. Melody spoke so quickly the first few times that I could only pick out a few words from the sentence; you, interest, and future...and marriage. I decided to ignore the last one however. Surely I wasn’t getting married, I would have heard of it by now. Besides, gossip wasn’t always true. When Melody finally took a deep breath and repeated the phrase however, there was no mistaking it. Apparently, my parents had “secured a future for me” as the bride of some guy I’d never even heard of.

 

I was furious. I mean, they couldn’t just tell me what to do like that! Like they owned me! I always tried to respect their wishes to the best of my ability, but this had gone too far. I mean, after all of the hard work I had put into my grades, my sport, my art and they were content to just sell me off to some rich guy?! I couldn’t believe this. So for the rest of the day the thoughts of this unspeakably horrible marriage remained in my head, distracting me from my studies.

 

When the bell finally rang, I was relieved. We had tennis practice that night, so I couldn’t confront my parents about it just yet, but I thought that at least tennis would be able to get the topic out of my mind for a while. I couldn’t have been more wrong. All throughout the first half of practice I was distracted, and I kept missing really easy shots to the point where the coach finally asked me if I was ok and a few minutes later she sent me home to get some rest. I happily obliged, and started walking home since my parents had never let me learn to drive a car. Apparently, it was an unnecessary skill. I could have called Mr.Wilson, our driver, but I felt like trudging home instead.

 

I hadn’t realized how nervous I was about the answers I would get until I stood in front of the door to our house, mansion really. Still, I tightened my jaw and punched in the familiar code and stepped into the house. I was greeted first by my dog, Dozer, a kind-hearted bulldog that did more drooling than barking, and then with a cacophony  of sound as a dozen people jumped out from around the corner to shout surprise in my face. Apparently, my worst nightmare was coming true.

 

I could almost feel my face drop three shades in color, and as soon as I greeted everybody and talked to them for an ample amount of time I set out in search of my mother and father, trying to keep an open mind. Maybe I wouldn’t have to quit school, maybe it was just arranged ahead of time to secure me a spot. Maybe I could even still get a job instead of being a stay at home mother like my own mom. Maybe the guy wouldn’t be so bad after all, and I would get to meet him before the wedding and I would actually like him. Maybe I still had a chance.

 

As soon as I found my parents, all they could talk about was how great the wedding was going to be and how happy I was going to be, but I still wasn’t sure what was going on. I mean, I remembered I was getting married, but I had no idea when I was getting married, and I had long since forgotten the name of my fiancé. I was almost too scared to ask, and yet as soon as they stopped talking for a short breath I asked them in simple terms, “What the hell is going on?”

 

Ok, so maybe cursing was not the best choice, especially since I was supposed to act like a proper lady, but it sure got their attention nicely so I repeated the question in more politer terms that went something along the lines of “Sorry, what I meant to say was, well, I have no idea what’s going on and it would please me if you explained it in a logical sense slowly so I can take it all in.” With that my parents had recovered from the shock and we sat down at the nearest table while the rest of the party went on.

 

“Where am I getting married?” I tried to start with the easiest question to ask. Of course, my parents, knowing that I wouldn’t like being married like this had probably left everything up to me so I wasn’t surprised when they told me I could be married wherever I wanted, and that no expense would be spared for, after all it was my big day and I deserved for it to be special. They acted like my wedding was my biggest concern in life when in actuality I could care less. Then I asked whom I was marrying, you know, baby steps.

 

I assumed I would at least recognize the name, but I had no such luck, but from the way my parents talked about him he must’ve been really well off. Still not a major concern to me.

“How far will I have to move away from here?” It wasn’t like I had many roots here, but it was still my comfort zone, so around this area was preferable. Still, learning I would have to move away wasn’t much of a surprise, and on a scale of one to ten of how upset I was it was probably a six or seven.  Finally though, it was time to ask the all important question that I’d been fearing most of all.

 

“When am I getting married?” I demanded. And by the look on my parents face I could tell it wasn’t going to be a good answer. They both just stared at me in silence for a minute before my mother squeaked out, “In the spring. He’s requested that you quit high school immediately and prepare for the wedding, you should after all, be at your finest. He’s coming by this weekend, so you’ll meet him then. In November you’re planned to meet again for Thanksgiving and after the December holidays you’ll move in with them. Although you’ll still have separate living quarters. My mother added the last part like it was a positive thing that made up for all of the negative things that were happening.

 

Instead I just wearily asked how much of a say I had in this. I made it clear that if there were any way I could refuse I would. I wanted to be more than just a figurehead doll, and for a small moment I thought that I just might be able to. But this bit me worse than the last frost that touches flowers who spring up too early in March, and it drained all of the life out of me. I just looked back at the party, this time seeing it for what it really was. These people weren’t here to congratulate me, or to sway my opinion of the whole wedding matter; they were here to boost my parents popularity and with any luck, their own. So instead of joining in, I just stomped up to my room, dead.

 

Much too soon, the previous day faded into the next and I was confronted almost immediately with my fears. That evening I met my fiancée for the first time, and his father too of course, but I must say I was not all that impressed. His hair was combed back as neatly as it was in the picture and he wore a bored look on his face. It occurred to me briefly that he didn’t want to be here as much as I didn’t, but my thoughts of remorse were quickly put away when I remembered everything this marriage implied for me. No matter how you looked at it I was worse off.

 

It wasn’t long into dinner that the topic of the wedding came up and soon I was being asked question after question about the details. Everything, all of it, made me sick to my stomach so I left to go to the bathroom and slipped off to the comfort of my room. I was soon joined by Mr. whatever he was even named as he tried to comfort me, although it soon became apparent to me that that was not his only intention when he followed me.

 

When I first noticed him, I’d been crying into my pillow and he’d put his arms around me and started moving them up and down my arms, a comforting gesture. Soon however, they moved to my back and before I knew it they were under my shirt and trying to pull it off. When I realized that, I pulled away and tried to show my unwillingness, but instead of backing off he just moved closer, backing me into my head board before resuming his previous movements. I was trapped and there was nowhere to go.

 

As soon as he pulled off my shirt, I became increasingly aware of how cold it was in my room for a moment before he pulled my body into his as he rested there for a moment, relaxing. For a while, I thought I was safe, I was fine with it even, but after a moment he shifted his head and started to murmur into my skin and kiss it gently making his way down my neck and to my chest. Once he got to my boobs my sense of discomfort had filled me once again and he let me pull away just enough that he could get a full look at my now naked upper body.

 

He grinned in contentment and leaned back into me, nibbling and playing with my sensitive nipples. They immediately went hard at the foreign touch and although it hurt I felt something else build up inside of me as his hands traveled lower and lower town my back until he reached my hips. He then pulled my head forward and forced his tongue into my mouth berating the insides. Then, he pulled away and I could almost see him stretching the strands of saliva that hung between out two mouths before going back to my nipples, the new moisture making them feel slimier and harder than before.

 

Just when he’d finally let up a little, I felt one of his hands sneak into my pants and start to toy with my vagina, which was getting more wet by the second. He continued to play with it, rubbing the inside passage, moving fingers in and out, and stretching the lips until he was satisfied at which point he started to pull of my pants as well as his own as I lied on the bed, helpless against his will and tears started to gather in my eyes. Then, just as he was about to stick his lengthy shaft into me, I blurted out for him to wait.

 

Horrified, I racked my brain for any plausible reason I could manage and for once found myself glad that my parents were devout christians. “I can’t have sex until I’m married,” I pleaded. I knew it was a long shot since we were going to be married, but he finally relented and I was saved for the moment. Just when he was about ot leave my room and I was free he turned around with a smirk.

“Don’t worry, we can resume where we left off wedding night.” and after he adding a wink he was gone but just the thought of doing that with him sent me running into the bathroom hurling.


It was the first time I had realized it was dark outside, it seemed time had slipped away from my mind, and I was just about to go back to sleep in my bed when I noticed the time. I was three o’ clock in the morning, but it was still Saturday. Everything had been a dream. It soothed me to know that everything had just been a figment of my imagination, but I knew there was still a chance my actual Fiancée was going to be exactly like that, and I wasn’t going to take any chances, so I called Melody immediately, planning my escape.


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