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Rachel was in a state as she showered for work. It was a week since she had been with Liam. She was excited but scared knowing she would see him at work that day. Her bruises from her last encounter were fading. She missed seeing the purple marks on her ass. As they faded to brown and eventually away, the memory of her time with Liam seemed to fade too. It was like a dream, a memory that she couldn’t be sure was real or imaginary. How she could forget the pleasure, the abuse and the love, she didn’t know.

Her husband had noticed only one of her marks. She had been cooking dinner on Saturday night and had her deep reddish brown hair up in the hot kitchen. Her husband was at the breakfast bar setting the table and asked, “What happened to your neck?”

Rachel didn’t even know what he was talking about at first. “What do you mean?”

“There’s some marks on your neck, like a rash or something.”

The memories flooded back, Liam’s kisses, gentle at first but then gnawing at her neck, like a hungry animal. “It must be the heat. You know I don’t handle it well.” He seemed happy with that answer.

She hated lying to him. For all his faults Chris was a good man. Their passion had waned as was normal after children and she knew there was fault on both sides. Life seemed to take over and it seemed like what had drew Rachel to Chris in the first place was what had turned her off him. In their seven years together she felt as though Chris had not grown up and fully accepted his role as a father. He loved their children but was irresponsible, giving into their whims. He placed all the ‘grown up’ responsibilities on her. She managed the children, the finances and major decisions of the family.

Rachel had felt like she was on heat all week and that morning was no exception. For the first time in many years she had went online and masturbated to porn. On Wednesday night she had waited until her husband and children were in bed then snuck into the study. She didn’t know where to start looking. Everyone said how easy it was to find porn on the internet, but its not easy when you have no idea where to start.

Rachel took a gamble and looked up the history. She smiled as she saw two days ago a free porn site had been visited. She knew her husband watched porn. It had never bothered her. At the start of their relationship, before children came along, they would watch it frequently, either fucking to it or masturbating each other to it. That time was long over now. She searched the site for what seemed like ages before she found a video that suited her.

The woman was beautiful, not a plastic Barbie doll type like many of the videos she had abandoned. She had short dark hair, small natural breast and very shapely womanly hips and thighs. The man with her was tall and slim but had a commanding presence. She fast forwarded the set up until she saw the man remove his coat and tie.

The man moved behind the woman, roughly putting his tie around her neck, pulling it tight. He bent her over the desk pulled her skirt up and ripped her tiny yellow g-string off. Rachel pushed her pajama pants down over her creamy thick thighs to her knees and rubbed her little clit.

She watched, extremely aroused and imagined herself in the actresses position. She rubbed and rubbed, in little circular movements, over her clit. Her moans were growing louder and louder. She bit her hand to muffle the noises. As the actor penetrated the actresses asshole Rachel remembered the hurt and intense pleasure she had felt when Liam took her ass. Warmth flooded Rachel’s pussy she felt the wetness of her juices on her fingers as she came.

Never in her life had the thought of someone fucking her ass made her cum. But then never in her life had anyone made it feel the way Liam did. How could an act she had always thought was preferred by men purely because they liked the idea of doing something taboo, end up being so much a part of her new found sexual preferences?

She knew it was because what she had with Liam was special. He had awakened in her something dormant. Something she had always craved but could never really put her finger on. She was fearful of her newfound lust, unsure where it would lead her.

As Rachel showered she felt her wetness starting to grow. She lathered her body with a gentle soap and enjoyed the feeling of the sponge on her body. As she cleaned between her thighs she shivered as the texture tickled her sensitive area. She took down the massaging shower head and moved the pelting hot water over her body washing the soap away. She pulled apart the batman escort folds of her skin and let the water hit her clit. She leaned her back against the cold tiles and let intense rhythm of the water wash over her sex.

After she had finished her shower and calmed down she started to dress for work. Liam had sent instructions for her appearance at work in a text message. He had been very clear, “You will wear a skirt to work tomorrow, black thigh high stay up stockings, black heels and no underwear. You will wear lightly coloured eye shadow, black eye liner, mascara, lip gloss and blush. You will straighten your hair and wear it out.”

She was unsure about the stockings as she had none. It had been Thursday late night shopping so she went to a million stores before she found any in her size. As she had put them on she worried about her thighs rubbing together as she walked.

She got up early and did her hair, she rarely straightened it, but had a ceramic hair straightener which made it easier. She did her make up and thought she looked nice. A little too dressed up for work probably. Liam had chosen well.

Rachel got out of her late model Toyota family car and headed into work. Liam was at the front end registers with Lindy when she walked in.

“Morning Rachel.” He said, “You look nice. Something special going on today?”

Rachel felt her cheeks burn. A smiled spread across Liam’s face. You bastard, Rachel thought. He wanted to see her uncomfortable, remind her he was in control and it was for him that she looked the way she did.

Lindy looked away from the customer she was serving, “Hot date tonight, darl?” Lindy was an older women. At fifty she was only two years older than Liam, but she seemed more than that with her short, large, motherly figure.

Rachel tried to laugh it off. “I just felt like looking pretty today.” Cheekily she did a pirouette, “Do you approve?” She asked more for Liam’s benefit than Lindy’s.

Lindy was the one who replied though, “Of course I do!”

Liam smiled, lips wide, teeth almost barred. He looked almost like a bear with his greying, dark reddish hair and beard. Rachel felt a surge of electricity through her body. She knew that look. It was the look he had given her when he hit her the first time. She shuddered and went to her locker.

Liam ignored her all morning. He hardly came out of his office unless called to do so. He was normally more hands on, helping out staff on the floor until the younger staff came on in the afternoon.

When it was time for her lunch Rachel went to the break room and started to eat her sandwich. She chatted as she ate with a couple of other staff members. The team got along pretty well and most people enjoyed the banter in the lunch room. She was less than half way through her lunch when Liam poked his head in the door.

“Rachel can I see you in the office?” His tone was business like and formal.

“Oooooh, trouble!” Some of her team members said. She thought they were right, but probably not in the way they thought.

Liam sat in the office chair behind his desk. Rachel walked in looking timid. He was happy with the way she looked. Her deep chestnut hair framed her round face so prettily. He loved how she looked so fresh and young. She looked younger than twenty-nine.

Rachel went to sit on a chair opposite the desk. “Before you sit down put this sign on the door and shut it.” Liam handed over a ‘Training in Progress: Do not disturb’ sign. He chuckled, amused at how appropriate the legitimate sign was.

When Rachel had done as instructed he motioned to her to come closer. He pulled her into his lap by her small waist and enjoyed her weight on his legs. He put one arm around her gently and with the other cupped her chin so he could kiss her.

His kiss was firm, but loving. He massaged her tongue with his and she kissed him back passionately. He felt her eagerness, she submitted her mouth to him, she never pulled away or closed her mouth to him. Her arms moved around his neck and she held him close pressing her plump body into his.

He pulled away before they both got carried away.

“Now, my delicious whore, we need to discuss what happened last week. You pleased me very much, but I need to know what you thought and how you would like us to proceed. I want very much to continue our affair. But you must know certain things before we can go on.” Liam paused, letting this sink in, before he continued. “I want us both to enjoy what we are doing. You must know yalova escort that I will be the one in charge. I am a dominant man, I do not like being submissive in anyway. Whatever we do will be what I want. You can request things and I’ll consider it, but it will be up to me if we do it or not. Understood?”

“Yes Liam”

“Good girl.” Liam went on. “Did you enjoy what we did last week?”

“Yes I did,” Rachel’s eyes were lowered. “All of it.”

“Good. I did as well. You are very good at satisfying me. And of course, you are gorgeous, big and beautiful as they say.”

Rachel flushed. Liam felt his erection growing in his pants. He loved her when she was nervous or embarrassed, it made her face glow in a sexy, innocent way, making her look almost childlike and virginal. The fact that he knew intimately she was neither child nor virgin excited him.

He hugged her tightly, and laughed. “Oh Rachel, don’t be embarrassed. You’re beautiful, sexy and most importantly of all a willing submissive slut. I love that about you. You must know that that’s why I want to have you so much, to own you.”

“I don’t know that… But that’s sweet, thank you.”

Liam leaned in again kissing her, gently and loving. He wanted to show Rachel he cared for her. How could he not? She was everything he had been looking for. She filled a sexual void in him that he had thought he would never be able to fill. He loved her for that.

He pulled away from her. He almost laughed when he saw the pout on her full shiny lips. “You trust me don’t you?”

Rachel nodded, “I do.”

“You know that I will never hurt you badly or more than I think you can handle. I will never permanently scar you. I have done things like this before and I will take things slowly, until you are able to do all the things I want from you. You will be trained by me to fulfill my sexual needs. Although I want you for my pleasure, your pleasure is important to me. I want a woman who enjoys the treatment she gets.”

“I know.” She seemed sure of it as she said it. Liam gave her another squeeze.

“Sit on the desk, I want to see that delicious cunt of yours.”

Rachel moved and sat her ass on the edge of the desk. Liam lifted each of her legs into the arm rests on his chair and pulled her skirt right up high.

His cock hardened as he saw she had followed his instructions. Her smoothly shaved pussy, wet with excitement seemed to be calling to him from between her stockinged thighs. He knew without a doubt that, in that moment, she wanted him, needed him and his dominance. He ran his hands over her silky legs.

“Rub your cunt for me slut!” Rachel’s hand moved to her pussy. He watched her womanly body writhe under the pleasure. Her eyes closed and her head was thrown back exposing her throat. He moved his hand up to the buttons on her blue shirt uniform. He gripped it tightly and ripped it apart, buttons flying.

Rachel protested but Liam covered her mouth and stood up to growl into her ear. “You said you were mine to do with as you please. Are you my whore?” Rachel nodded. “Good girl. Keep going.”

He didn’t remove his hand from her mouth as he caressed his other hand over the curves of her chest. He roughly pulled on her bra revealing her full breasts, nipples hard with her lust. He put his mouth to her nipple sucking them into his mouth then biting down hard. He could hear Rachel’s moans through her covered mouth. He kept going biting and pulling on her pink nipples.

He pulled once more letting her nipple slip out of his mouth. Liam moved lower, sat back in his chair and watched Rachel’s fingers as they moved in quick circles over her clit. As he watched he could smell her excitement and he felt an urge to eat her. He pushed her hand aside and shoved his face into the folds of her pussy.

He tasted her and drank up her scent. He let his tongue flick over her clit and loved how hard it was against his tongue. He enjoyed Rachel’s moans as he continued to lick her. Soon her hips started to move against him as if willing him to give her more. He gave her what she wanted and slipped two fingers into her welcoming hole. He finger fucked her tight pussy as heard her moans growing louder and louder.

“Be quite bitch! If someone hears you cumming, you’ll regret it!” Liam leaned back in and continued eating her sweet cunt. He still heard her moans but softer now and he rewarded her with a third finger.

Soon he felt her hips buckle and he felt a surge of juices against his face. He gave her a final lick as she shuddered. ordu escort She looked beautiful in her post orgasm state. He loved making her cum, hearing and feeling her enjoyment under his instruction or touch. Her face shined as she looked at him, green eyes lit up with excitement. She lent down and drew him into a kiss, sucking his lips and tongue, licking his beard, tasting her sweet cum.

Rachel licked Liam’s face clean of her juices, the taste of her cum exciting her again, as if she hadn’t just orgasmed.

“Thank you for making me cum.” Rachel said.

“You’re welcome my whore.” Liam lent back in his chair. “Now it’s my turn.”

Liam pulled Rachel’s still weak body onto the floor between his legs. She thought back to the fantasy she had had the day Liam had taken her the first time. This time she was bold enough and she opened Liam’s pants, helped him pull them down and she took him into her mouth.

Liam’s cock was already very hard in Rachel’s mouth. No doubt that he had enjoyed what happened earlier. She knew she had to pleasure him the way he had allowed her to feel pleasure. She opened her mouth and let him into herself.

She knew he enjoyed it when his cock was in her throat so she tried to open her throat and relax her muscles. But every time she did she felt her tummy lurch and she heard the sounds of her gag reflex. Frustrated she stopped trying and went back to her usual way, knowing he liked that too.

Without warning she felt a force on the back of her head and pushed her deep onto Liam’s cock again. Her throat and stomach spasmed, threatening to release. Relax! she screamed silently.

As if reading her mind Liam’s voice came to reassure her. “Relax your throat, let me in. We will get rid of that gag reflex. Not that I don’t enjoy those delicious sounds you make.” Rachel thought she was going to lose her lunch this time. She struggled and fought him trying to lift her head up. She could feel her back teeth against the head of his cock. She tried to open wider but her tongue kept blocking the way to her throat. Tears were coming from her eyes as she struggled to breath. “Be a good girl. Keep going you can do it. I’m close to giving you my cum my baby, my whore.”

Rachel closed her eyes, determined now. She had promised this man he would get what he wanted. She knew this feeling of being on edge excited her. The evidence of that was dribbling down her thighs. When she felt his cum in her mouth she sighed with excitement and relief. She had never left so owned by another person in her life. She had hated and loved every second of it. She only wanted more.

When Liam let go of her head she sucked in breath deeply. Her face was flushed. She even let out a laugh as she jumped up to kiss him. “Thank you!” She cried, showering his face with kisses. Liam laughed too. He couldn’t help it with her youthful display of joy. He pulled her into his lap again and held her tight. He wanted to crush her into him, keep her close and never let her go.

“You did very well. I love that you enjoy submitting to me, you are a very very good whore.” Liam stroked her hair as he held her head to his chest. Gently this time. His animal urges were gone now and his affection towards Rachel grew and grew. “And very special to me,” he added.

Rachel didn’t say a word, she just hugged him back. He could feel her hands and nails on his back through his shirt as she caressed him. These tender moments, as important and essential to him as the pain and abuse he inflicted on her earlier.

After a few moments he kissed her gently on the lips. “You must get back to work now baby.”

Rachel’s eyes went wide and she looked at her shirt. “Never mind about your shirt, who do you think gives out the uniforms?”

With regret he shooed her off his lap and did up his pants. Liam went to the cupboard at the back of his office. He took out a new shirt. He slipped Rachel’s old one off and put the new one on her. He did the buttons up himself and fixed the collar. He smoothed down her hair and rubbed away the dark smudges of mascara under her eyes. She looked up at him. He could see himself being lost in her gaze, her sparkling eyes, full of trust, no sign of anger for what he had done to her only happiness.

“There all better,” Liam lifted her mouth to hers once more. “I will miss you.”

“I will too.”

“Can you ever get out at night time without being suspicious?”

“Sometimes. With enough notice. Why?”

Liam pushed her towards the door. “I’ll let you know when the time comes. Until then, remember your my whore.”

“I’ll remember. You just remember that you’re mine too,” she smiled, opened the door and left.

Liam laughed again and settled back to work. He felt calm and relaxed. Probably for the first time since they had last played together. He tried not to think about his growing feelings for Rachel.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Chapter Three: Savoring the Moments

After he left, Kristy came out of the bathroom and walked into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. I was surprised to see her completely nude with damp hair. She held the coffee to her nose and inhaled, “Oh, I love the smell of fresh coffee. Hmmmm.” I just watched her, glancing at her bottom. It was a sight to behold when she was wearing tight pants or practically anything, but in the nude it was a masterpiece. She wasn’t one to walk around the apartment naked so I rarely got to see it like this. After a few minutes of silence, she asked, “Where’s Adam?”

“He went for a jog,” I sighed. “Thankfully.”

“Yeah, I’m glad we have a little time to ourselves to talk,” she concurred. I watched her as she slowly sipped her coffee, but my eyes kept falling to her perfect ass. There was so much I wanted to say, but I was enjoying the view way too much to interrupt it.

After a couple minutes, she placed her empty cup on the counter, walked up behind me, put her hands on my shoulders and began to rub. After several minutes, she blurted out excitedly, “Oh, baby. Wasn’t last night amazing?”

I remained silent for a moment, thinking of the words to avoid busting her bubble, but still getting my views across, “At first, it really shocked me. And then I was both hurt and horny that you were sucking him while I fucked you and, even more, when you demanded that I let him fuck you. But, when I came and he actually started fucking you, I couldn’t take it. I felt horrible and just wanted it to stop. All I could think about was ending it all just so the pain would stop.”

“Oh, god, baby. That’s awful,” she cried, wrapping her arms around me and kissing my cheek. “We won’t ever repeat that mistake again.”

I let out a deep breath. “Oh, thank you, baby. That’s such a relief. I didn’t think you’d be willing to just make it a one-time thing.”

She took my hand in hers, “Come on.” She led me next to the bed, which I hadn’t made, yet, and pulled down my pants and boxers. “On your back.”

“You know it’s Sunday, right?” I asked stupidly.

She laughed, “Oh that was just a dump excuse to get out of pretending I was in the mood for boring sex with you more than two nights in a row. But no more boring sex for us, right? Get on your back.”

I obeyed. She climbed onto the bed near my feet and crawled up my body until her breasts were hanging over my mouth and I could feel the warmth of her sweetness against my semi-erect prick. “Suck my nipples.”

I sucked the left and caressed the right, then switched. Considering that it was the first time I had ever recalled the bare skin of my prick coming into contact with her pussy, even just the outer labia, the moment was heavenly. Yet, an overwhelming urge to fuck swept over me. I reached up and grabbed her waist, planning to roll her over and fuck her bareback like Adam had done the night before.

But, as I did, she pushed my arms back down and turned herself so that her pussy was directly over my mouth. Then she began stroking me in an upward motion with just the tips of her fingers. The odd but welcome sensation was all the encouragement I needed to forego my plans and lick her instead.

She pressed herself firmly to my lips and spoke, “Now, I think I need to clarify what I meant by not repeating the same mistake as it seems you misunderstood. I know that not only are you quite capable of taking any pain I decide to give you, but also, deep down, you desperately need me to hurt you for my enjoyment. Isn’t that so?” She raised herself just enough to allow me to speak.

I wanted to argue, to repeat that last night had been too much, but I was way too hard and horny to object to anything she said, so I relented, “Yes.”

Once again she applied pressure to my face. “That’s what I thought. You see, the problem last night had nothing to do with Adam or me; it was your fault for ejaculating prematurely. As a masochist, your mechanism for overcoming pain is your arousal. So, ejaculating when there is still so much that I want to do that is going to hurt you is just plain stupid. It weakens your defense mechanism and ruins your fun. You should always be the last guy in the room to cum, never the first, Michael.”

I tried to speak, but it was muffled. She raised off of me a little and I asked, “Does that mean you ARE going to cheat on me again with Adam?”

“Whoa, buster! I didn’t cheat on you. You said it was okay and you wanted it to happen, so it wasn’t cheating. It was just a sexual act we agreed to do as a couple.”

“What if I say no; that I don’t agree to let you sleep with Adam ever again? Will you cheat on me then?”

“No, I’ll dump you.”

“What?” I yelled and lightly shoved her to indicate I wanted her to get off of me.

“Don’t be stupid, Michael. If you want to be a baby, then I’ll get off you, but it may be the last chance you get to even see my pussy, let alone taste it. So, just calm yourself down. bilecik escort I promise I’ll explain, but only if you’re licking my pussy and I’m playing with your weenie as I do. We both know brutal honesty works better that way.”

“Okay.” She pressed herself to my lips and I began to lick, savoring the taste in fear of losing it.

“Now, Michael, I DON’T want to dump you. I love you. But, I’m not a masochist. Sure, I enjoy some pain like a light spanking, the twisting or nibbling of my nipples, or the momentary sharpness when a cock like Adam’s first stretches me out. But, I can’t deal with the hardcore emotional pain that turns you on. If I had to spend the next five weeks with Adam’s cock in the same room, itching to penetrate me, and not being able to touch it, taste it, or feel its fullness, I would lose my fucking mind in misery. It would be far more agonizing than that little bit of jealousy you felt last night.”

I was a little pissed that she was trivializing the pain I felt the night before, particularly when I told her it included suicidal thoughts. But, then I started to wonder if maybe I had been a baby about the whole thing. After all, pain was my thing, not hers.

“So, yes, if you tried to do that to me, I would have to dump you. And, Michael, you know I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. You’d never be able to replace me. I mean, look at yourself. You have a soft, out of shape physique. Thankfully, you’ve lost quite a bit of weight from last semester, but you still have a long way to go before most girls would actually get excited to see you naked. And, then, once she sees what you’re packing, she’d get an instant headache. I would have gotten a headache that first night had I not seen you enough times in pajama bottoms or gym shorts to know you didn’t have any kind of bulge to speak of. I didn’t expect you to be as small as you are, though.”

I could feel myself stiffening even more with her words.

She giggled, presumable at that, before continuing her denigration, “And your height is only about average, just like your face. So, those factors neither help nor hurt. But, then there’s the hair. Michael, you have less hair than most forty year old men. And I’m not trying to be mean. See, my uncle went bald at 30 and he went from bringing home a new hot girlfriend every holiday to settling down and marrying a plane Jane who already had two kids from her first marriage. So, if women in their late twenties and thirties don’t want a guy with no hair, how much chance would you have with girls who aren’t even twenty yet? Not much, I’m afraid.”

I’m not sure exactly why, but what she had said about my hair didn’t feel very good. By that I mean, it did nothing to arouse me. In fact, it had the opposite effect. It was already a sore subject and perhaps there was way too much truth in her words.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I shouldn’t have went there. Now you’re little dickie is all soft and nasty. I guess there’s a good reason I’ve never even mentioned your hairline before.” She lifted herself off of my face and scooted down to where the bottom of her ass cheeks were barely touching my chest. “But, I do think it’s very important that I come up with ways to both increase your pain and decrease your pleasure for both of our enjoyment. I could feel you staring at my ass earlier. Why don’t you plant some soft kisses on that ass you adore while I try to think of something that will arouse you?”

After I strained my neck to plant roughly twenty kisses all over each of perfect cheek, she teased, “That’s it my little asskisser. You do that like it’s what you were born to do. In fact, you’ve been kissing my ass since the day we first met long before I ever considered letting you see it nude, let alone fucking you. Speaking of fucking, you know I fucked Dave and Tony, right?”

“Really, when?”

“Last December, after you showed me the picture of that blonde with big tits riding Adam’s cock and told me he had been cheating on me all semester but didn’t think I’d believe you until you had proof. I still didn’t believe you and I thought it was rather strange that he just carelessly let you take a picture of him fucking someone.” She edged back up to where her ass cheeks consumed my field of sight and her lips were touching mine. “So, I went to Dave and Tony hoping to get some straight answers. They were reluctant to betray Adam at first until I offered to give them both some pussy in exchange for the truth. That’s when Dave said that Adam had been a pretty selfish friend, never sharing any girls or even hooking them up with the one’s he didn’t want. Is that true?”

I nodded with my tongue outstretched.

“Ooh, I like that answer. They also told me that the girl riding Adam’s cock was a stripper and that YOU had approached THEM with the idea to all go in together on to celebrate Adam’s birthday. They said they only agreed because she had manisa escort a reputation for getting gangbanged by her clients. Judging by the angle of the picture, you had snuck into the kitchen, waited until everyone was watching them and snapped the photo. They said you were lucky her bodyguard didn’t catch you because he would have broken you and your phone. You completely set Adam up. Don’t you feel guilty about that?”

I shook my head, again with my tongue in her pussy.

“I think I like the way the yes feels better. Anyway, they were still mad at you and Adam for not getting a piece from the stripper. I kissed them both on the cheek, then turned to leave. I grabbed my purse off of the stand next to their door and took out my keys and jiggled them. When I turned around, you should have seen the look of shock on their faces! They looked like they were ready to cry. I smiled, put the keys in my purse and took out two condoms then walked back, turned around, bent over the couch, and hiked up my skirt to show them I wasn’t wearing any panties. Tony took me first, then Dave. They weren’t nearly as good as Adam, but they were both way bigger and better than YOU. I mean, I came on both their cocks.”

I moaned into her and thrusted my hips upward, inviting her to stop teasing and start stroking.

She did, but very slowly, “You know, to be honest, your little prick has never made me come. I never even came ON it until last Wednesday and that was the look of humiliation and pain on your face not because of that little bit of barely noticeable rubbing you were doing down below. You know, in fairness, every guy I ever fucked was bigger and WAY better than you. But, that’s fitting, considering you were my unlucky number.”

Confused since I had only known about Brett and Adam and now Dave and Tony, I pushed up on her ass enough to speak, “What do you mean unlucky? Was I number six?”

“Try again,” she giggled.

I thought for a minute thinking I had to be missing something, but couldn’t come up with anything, so I winced, “It can’t be thirteen?”

She lowered herself back down, “Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner. You get the special prize of licking a pussy that a dozen guys fucked before you!” She giggled again.

After that she was silent for a couple minutes while I explored every part of her pussy my tongue could reach. As I did, I came up with a stupid rhyme that Kristy may have liked if I only had the opportunity to share it: I am not her best nor am I her first, I won’t be her last but I will be her worst. I’m pretty sure that most guys wouldn’t be proud of or turned on by that or the fact that they were their girlfriend’s unlucky thirteenth, which were the main reasons I was.

“It’s kind of ironic that you were number thirteen considering you tried to use Adam’s lucky condom and it was too big. It just says something about luck and fate. Would you like to know who else I’ve fucked besides Brett, Adam, Tony, and Dave?”

I stuck my tongue out and nodded my head.

“Good answer! From now on when you’re licking my pussy and I ask you a yes or no question, I want you to always answer yes and do it just like that. Will you do that for me?”

The idea of always answering yes regardless of what she asked filled me with dread but also excited me since she could manipulate me into anything just by asking me when her crotch was mounting my face. So, of course, I nodded in agreement.

“That’s my boy. Okay, now let’s talk about the dirty dozen who were all better than you. First, there was Brett. I’d rank him second best. He wasn’t quite as equipped as Adam, but pretty close. Where Adam really has him beat is height and muscular definition. Brett worked out, but his lower back, abs, thighs, and butt muscles just didn’t have the power Adam’s do. As I said before, Dave and Tony were about average in size, which is what, about fifty percent longer and wider than you? Anyway, they fucked me doggystyle, which you’d never be able to with the size of my butt. That’s why you and I have only tried missionary. I think it’s best for your size, don’t you?”

I was actually quite happy at that point with missionary as well as our current sexual position which was a modified version of the sixty nine. And considering it was my only possible answer now that I’d agreed to it, I nodded.

“Good. There is actually a position that’s better for your size and probably would feel better for you and maybe a little better for me. But, I won’t do it since it requires me to do all the work. However, I did do it with my fifth guy. He came up to me after my first English lit class this semester, introduced himself as Yori, and asked if I had a boyfriend. I told him I didn’t. He asked me out for coffee. I asked if he had coffee in his room. He said he didn’t. I asked what he did have in his room. He told me soda. I said I’d prefer soda in that case. He took me back to his room mersin escort and after he poured the soda and turned around to me, I dropped to my knees, unbuckled his belt, slid off his pants, and took him into my mouth. It didn’t take long for him to get fully hard. He was slightly below average, though he still had an inch on you. I stood up, took the glasses of soda and sat them on his desk, pushed him on the bed and stripped for him. Then I rode his cock while he massaged my boobs. When we both came, he asked if he could see me again. I told him I wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship and that the only reason this happened was because I could tell he was shy and was proud of his courage. I also made him promise to keep what happened to himself. Now, doesn’t it excite you to know I rode this stranger Yori’s cock and will never ride yours?”

My agreement to always say ‘yes’ became very difficult at that point. In truth, at that very moment I wanted her to get off my face and ride my prick, instead. I was kicking myself for the promise I made as I nodded.

“The sixth guy was just your regular jock type. His name was Marco and he was a cocky jerk. I went out with him during one of your Thursday night classes. I went back to his room but I wasn’t sure if I was going to sleep with him until I saw his roommate Anwar. He asked Anwar to leave, but I asked him to stay. Marco called me a slut, but had no problem sticking his cock in my mouth or fucking me while I sucked Anwar’s smelly uncut cock. His dark masculinity was intoxicating. Marco wore a regular condom, was about average in size, and lasted about ten minutes. Anwar wore a XXL and lasted nearly twenty minutes. He was very rough and demanding. If I’d have fucked him more than once, he might have replaced Adam as my favorite lover. But, Marco ran his mouth telling people I was a slut and Anwar said his family would never approve of him dating a girl with that reputation. Do you think I’m a slut, Michael?”

I froze. She couldn’t possibly want me to answer yes to that question. But after a few minutes of me holding still and her not stroking me anymore, she started lightly smacking my balls. “Answer me,” she ordered.

I nodded hesitantly with my tongue outstretched. After four slow licks up and down, I heard and felt her hand smack my balls with considerable force. I yelled into her pussy.

“Oooo, I like that. Do it again.” She smacked me again and I yelled louder into her. After a few moments of savoring my agony, she started slowly stroking my prick again.

“It’s okay if you think I’m a slut, Michael. All of your coworkers do. After Anwar, I went a few weeks where Adam was the only one who fucked me. Then, near the beginning of February, I happened to notice your boss Chuck, the head janitor mopping some floors. Because of the way he was standing and the fact that the middle aged pervert wasn’t wearing any underwear, I could see the outline of his cock through his pants and it was impressive. I don’t think he saw me looking but I noticed his eyes following my ass as I walked by through a reflection in the window. Realizing it was just us in the hallway, I turned around and went up to him and asked if he liked staring at teenage girls asses. His jaw dropped to the floor. Then I told him he could get a better view if he took me into his office, bent me over and fucked me from behind. He left the mop and bucket in the middle of the floor and did just that. Does knowing that I fucked your boss get you so horny you’re itching for another smack to the balls?”

I hesitated to nod, as I couldn’t believe her story. I had almost got into a fight with a couple of my coworkers when I overheard them talking about my girlfriend. And, yet, here she was admitting that she fucked my boss. How could I ever look at him the same way again? And does he know she’s my girlfriend? Do they make fun of me behind my back? The questions kept racing through my mind. While I was thinking, Kristy grew impatient and decided to bring her hand down in a closed fist this time. My lips were sealed around her pussy when I yelled at the top of my lungs.

“Oh my gawd!” she cried. “Now, that was amazing. It’s punches for you from now on, mister. Sound good?”

I nodded hoping she wouldn’t punch me again, at least not so soon.

Fortunately, she resumed her stroking and her story, instead. “But, it didn’t stop there. I told Chuck I’d meet him in his office at the same time the next day. I did and he fucked me the same way, bent over the desk facing the door. Soon after he started, one of your coworkers, Sam, opened the office door and walked in without noticing us at first. Chuck told him to hurry up, get in and shut the door. Sam tried to excuse himself, but Chuck insisted he come and get some. So, Sam whipped out his cock and stuck it in my face. It was a nice size and shape and I started to suck it. Soon after, he said he recognized me and asked if I was your girlfriend. I don’t know why, but I told him I was but we hadn’t slept together yet, so it wasn’t official. I asked them to keep quiet about it because it would break your heart. They agreed, but only if I was willing to keep doing this until it was official. Then Chuck insisted they switch places, which they did several times until they both had gotten me off and themselves, too.”

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Something seemed odd about him when he opened up the door to his apartment. Maybe it was something about the glint in his eye.

Coat, scarf, shoes removed, I go over to him to give our usual kiss of hell. A small smile playing over his lips he says, “I got your collar.”

Suddenly everything is spinning. Yeah, we had discussed the idea of collaring as a joke before, and I’d written it off, seeing as he hadn’t brought up for a while.

The idea was that if he captured me and made me cum, he would make me his. I glance over at the dining room table and sure enough, there are two pieces of paper, the contract, with the shining silver collar and luck sitting between them. It was to be the mark of ownership that I would wear every day.

“Wait, I didn’t agree to this!”

He holds up a piece of paper: it contains the transcript of a chat we had. At the same time, he was slowly walking towards me, forcing me to back up deeper into the living room.

“No, no, that was just a fantasy, that wasn’t real!”

“But I think you do want it, really, you just don’t want to admit it. You say right here what you want to happen when I collar you. And you know the rules: if I make you cum, you are mine.”

His eyes flashed with that particular brand of fierceness that both terrified me and excited me. His voice was low, reasonable, insistent, insinuating. He was laying a spell on me.

“No, that’s not what I want at all!” I wrest my eyes away from his and down. It is then that I realize that the only way out is through the small entrance between the living room and the door, and the only way is through him. As I try to dart past him, he neatly grabs both of my wrists. He consolidates his grip so that he has both my wrists in his left hand, and no amount of wriggling is going to get them free.

He reaches over and removes my watch. “You don’t need that here; it is now my job to watch the time.”

He removes my glasses. “The only thing you need to see here is me.”

He roughly shoves me up against the wall, hands above my head, the weight of his hips pressing my chest and hips into the wall. My shirt is shoved up, my bra clasp deftly unfastened, and both shirt and bra come off in one deft motion. “I want those breasts to always be available for me to finger and suckle.” He takes his free hand and cusps my breasts, then, finding the nipple, he squeezes hard. I make a small sound.

“That wasn’t just a cry of pain, now was it,” he murmurs in my ear, hand running up to delicately stroke just behind my ear. I can feel myself blushing.

He releases the vice of his hips binding me to the wall, as the grip on my hands tightens and his other hand slides down, down. He grabs the waistbands of both my skirt and my underpants, dragging them off my ass, then letting them puddle to the floor. He is back to pinioning me to the wall, hard cock pressing through his pants against my bare ass.

“There, much better. fethiye escort Now you are always ready to be fingered or fucked any time I want it. Because that’s what a toy is for now, isn’t it?”

He backs up some, to admire the flesh newly exposed. His hold on my wrists weakens for a moment, and with a cry of no, I wrest my hands away from him and head for the door.

My hand is on the door handle when he says, matter of factually, “You have no clothing on.”

“What?”

“You have no clothing on. It is February in New York, it’s cold out. Also the doorman and the front desk are more than aware of ….how easily you spread your legs.”

He looks down at my bare form, stopping at the Y of my legs, covered in dark curling hair.

“They seemed to relish the idea of taking you behind the desk and having their way with you. You definitely won’t receive any help from them, my little slut. Every time they see you go by, they know you are here to have me fuck you.”

He is stepping closer. Tears are trickling down my face and I am starting to panic.

“I also highly suspect that no one else is going to help you, because they know what a whore you are, how much you want to be fucked, to be used. They know how often I make you cry out in pleasure. Because of all those times they needed to sleep with earplugs, they are not going to help you.”

He has gently removed my hand resting on the door handle and brings it towards him. My vision is going blurry from the tears and I am starting to tremble. This must be a horrible dream of some sort.

“You are my girl and you belong to me. Come, it is time for me to claim you.”

I can hear myself babbling “No no no no” and I am backing up, away from him. Directly into his bedroom.

He keeps up the stream of words, about all the things he wants to my body, how he can smell my arousal from where he is, how I want this, to be owned, to be fucked, how I’m a whore who spreads her legs whenever she can. All of his words punctuated by a slow, steady step into the bedroom while I am backing up, my head shaking in denial of his words. I am trying to convince him that I am a good girl, that I don’t do those sorts of those things, but he doesn’t listen.

My thighs back into his bed. My eyes widen as I realize I am trapped. I attempt to scramble up onto the bed, away, but he is too quick.

His hands are already at both my wrists, with a tight grip that means that there is no escaping him now. His legs straddle my chest as I futilely squirm against him, gripping into the sides of my body. One of my hand he takes and raises it above my head and to an angle. In one deft motion, he secures it into a cuff, tightening the leather strap. He reaches into his pocket and draws forth a lock, which he promptly places to secure the cuff in place. With the same efficiency of movement, he secures my other wrist. alanya escort

I try to bite him, a move he easily avoids with a chuckle, tweaking me on the nipple for my impertinence.

He begins stroking, licking, nibbling on all of my favorite spots above the waist: my fingers, my neck, the undersides of my arms, my nipples. He knows me well enough to know that I am getting aroused, despite my best efforts not to.

Sure of his victory, he straddles me the other way and grabs a leg. In my momentary stupor, I don’t realize that he has tied my legs so they are bent, with a long tail of rope extending from both of my ankles. He grabs both of these tails and climbs off me, which enough to wake me up from my muzziness. I realize with horror that he is firmly pulling on them, securing first one, then the other ends to the end of the bed. I am completely bound, my legs spread wide to expose my cunt, and I can’t move in any direction.

He steps back, smiling at his handiwork. I’m eying him, uneasy.

“Wha…what are you going to do to me?”

“The ultimate sign of submission to a master is to allow him to do things to her body that she might not particularly like. She gives into the sovereignty that he holds over her and he often takes that opportunity to leave a lasting reminder of his ownership.”

It is then that I see what he intends to do, seeing the implements on a table next to the bed. I try to thrash, but I can’t move in any direction; all I can do is impotently move my hips back and forth.

Methodically, he placed a towel under me, wet my cunt with a washcloth, then proceeded to cover it in shaving cream. As he picked up the razor, holding it up high enough for me to see, I began to plead in earnest. Ignoring my words, or possibly simply getting more aroused at them, he held me still with a hand on my belly.

Even as I babbled my dissent at this new shame, I could feel myself slipping deeper into subspace. The combination of the bonds on my wrists and ankles and the slow, gentle movement of the razor were leaving me feeling increasingly relaxed. So relaxed that I didn’t notice when he began wiping me down with the washcloth with long, smooth strokes along the lips of my cunt and over my clit. It was only when I let out a low moan that I realized that I was deeply aroused, my hips also betraying my arousal with their continued thrust into his hand. His left hand wandered up and down my body, brushing against my sides, playing with a nipple, stroking my belly. Washcloth abandoned, he slipped first one finger, then two deep into my cunt, and even I could hear how wet I had become.

He withdrew his fingers and I let out an impotent sound of frustration. I heard the sound of clothing being removed and then he was on top of me. Pulling on my hair, he forced my head back and looked me directly in the eye.

“You’re going to let me fuck you manavgat escort like the good slut you are, aren’t you?”

Transfixed by the intensity of the look in his blue eyes, I could only let out a weak, “Yes, sir.” I cursed at him for how deep he had sent me into subspace but still moaned the first time he trust into me. I cursed him for paying attention all those times we had made love. He knew exactly how to vary the speed and the deepness of the thrusts, now barely coming inside me, now slamming into me hard. I could hear my moaning getting louder as I pulled hard on my bonds and clenched my hands tightly into fists.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh pleeeeeeeeeease!”

“Please, what?”

“Oh please, oh please, oh please please please let me cum!”

“What was that?”

“Oh please, sir, please let me cum. Please let me cum right now!”

“You know what will happen if you do?”

“Yes!”

“Are you sure?”

“YES, please please please please let me cum! Please!”

“As you wish.” He abruptly releases the clips holding the cuffs to the bed, rolling off me but slipping his fingers back into my cunt, thrumming against my g-spot as I rub my clit furiously. All I can think about is the approaching wave of my orgasm and how to have it crash over me as quickly as possible.

His voice is at my ear, whispering what a good girl I was, how hot I was as aroused as I was, how it pleased him to see me like this. He is calling me his slut, his whore, his queen, his own. At just the right moment he tells me to cum for him.

…and I do, breaking apart into a million pieces of my orgasm, the extended moan of release coming from my mouth as the waves of pleasure wash over my mind.

The click of something at my neck snaps me back to reality and I reach my hands up to my neck to feel a substantial leather collar locked around my neck. He is smiling down at me like the cat who ate the canary while I try to get a handle on what has happened. He gets up to undo my legs and rubs at the rope marks, but returns, grabbing ahold of my hands and pulling me upright.

“There is one bit of business left…”

My mind flashes back to the contracts on the table. Somehow, on wobbly legs, I am pulled towards the living room until I am standing in front of them. He hands me a pen and I lean over to read exactly what it says. All rather standard, really, and I’m nodding along until I get to the last clause.

“A clit ring, within the week?”

“Don’t pretend that the thought of it isn’t turning you on right now.” “Bwa?”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, but…”

“You’ve been mentioning being led around by a leash attached to a clit ring since we first met. Longer than that. J mentioned that you had talked about it with him since long before I came into the picture.”

“But…”

“And it would please me a great deal.”

“As you wish, sir,” I say quietly and sign both copies of the contract.

After I straighten, he slips the length of the silver necklace around my neck and closes it with the tiny lock. He places the equally tiny key on a chain and slips it around his neck before kissing me on the lips.

“Now that you are mine, you can come with me.”

I smile and let him lead me by the hand into the bedroom.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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I’m submitting this with the intention to expand on my writing skills. I am always open to feed back. Please comment with any thoughts you have.

Enjoy!

***

Without warning, James picked me up, as you would expect any newly married groom to do and carried me through the front door of the old and rustic cabin. His strong arms extended from his large, six-foot four frame, easily man handling me through the threshold.

He carried me inside and playfully dropped me onto the bed. As I bounced back up, his lips met mine for a cute and gentle kiss.

“I love your kisses” I said with a coy smile.

“I know.” James quickly retorted.

His joking demeanor is one of the reasons that I fell for him so hard and fast. Only four months ago I was a happily single 21-year-old woman. I never intended to get married so young, but I have never met anyone like him before. He was intelligent and driven. He had goals set out in life and even at his modest age of 29, he has already accomplished so much. He was the Chief Executive Officer of a bikini coffee company which is how we first met. I assumed that he was just interested in my five-foot, 100-pound body. But he proved to be truly in love with me.

After he kissed me, he went to the car to retrieve our bags. He’s always been the perfect gentlemen to me. He even respected my wishes to wait until our wedding night before we would have sex for the first time; something that a sexually experienced and complex person like myself, would have real struggles with. But I needed to know about him. I needed to make sure his love was real. Luckily, it was; and he past his first test, without even knowing he was taking it.

“I knew you could do it James.” I thought to myself.

After he returned with our bags, I asked if he could help me with my dress. Staying in my wedding dress for such a long drive was not ideal but our wedding ran late and neither of us had time to change.

He stood behind me and slowly pulled the tight zipper down with much care. His large, strong hands easily manipulated the zipper that ran down my back. Once down, I slid my gown off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. The same dress which I took such care of until now.

No longer covering my body, it revealed, the perfect outfit I had warn for just tonight. I wore four-inch white, strapped shoes that weaved up my ankle to just below my knee. Following up my leg were my thigh high white lace stockings. I had on a very tiny white thong with an all-white garter over it. I loved the way the garter clips outlined my perfectly round ebony ass. Finally, I wore a white lace corset which was barely enough to contain my large breasts.

I turned to see James’ mouth hanging wide open. I knew he would love the look of my pure white lingerie against my dark skin. I grabbed him gently by the lapel and pulled him to meet me.

Our lips met with a spark of adrenalin. Although we have kissed many times, this was different. I felt his strong hands reach behind me and pull me closer into him. I responded by playfully biting his lower lip.

He lifted me off my feet, both metaphorically and literally. He spun me around and dropped me onto the bed for the second time. He fell on top of me, catching himself just inches from me. That was the last straw; I couldn’t take any more.

As my new husband kissed me, I desperately reached for his belt. Some fancy finger work later, both his belt and pants fell.

“Fuck me, James. We’ve both waited way too long for this”, I whispered before pushing his face to my breasts which were already popping out of the top of my corset.

He didn’t waste any time. He reached to his now throbbing member and pushed my thong to the side. His cock had no problem slipping into my dripping cunt. I moaned immediately as his lips closed on one of my nipples.

As he worked himself into me, going slow at first, I wrapped my legs around him. My pointed heals on his now naked rear which must have given him more motivation because he started to fuck me with an increased rhythm.

“Oh yes, Baby. Fuck me harder. Cum in my pussy!” I screamed as his teeth clamped down on my breast.

My eyes rolled back and my back arch. I came with a loud scream to the heavens. The pleasure was like a tidal wave that washed over me. James, being the perfect man that he was, never stopped; not for a second.

His large missile pounded away at me causing my high to last for what felt like days.

Finally, I begged him, “Cum in me. Full my pussy. Please? Please, use me!”

Before the last syllable left my mouth, I felt his cock spasm and the hot liquid fill my insides. He moaned as he pumped his cum into my waiting twat. My legs continued to encourage him to keep thrusting into me.

After he finished, he rolled to the side and collapsed on the bed next to me. He was still mostly clothed, but he pulled my white lace covered body into his arms as we both struggled to catch our breath.

“That was amazing, My Love.” James said as he started to get up to shower.

He asked if I wanted bayburt escort to join him, but I declined, explaining that I liked my outfit and wanted to stay in it for a little longer. He smiled and said that he wanted that too.

As soon as he went to the bathroom, I started with my plan. I went to my bag and pulled out a leather portfolio, a pen, and my personal favorite, a leather riding crop. I knew I had to do everything just right for it to work. I sat on a chair with my legs crossed, staring at the bathroom door.

I waited patiently and when James came out of the bathroom and saw me waiting for him with my new crop, he couldn’t believe his eyes. I told him to drop his towel which he did and told him to have a seat at the small table in the corner of the cabin.

I explained that in front of him was a contract that I expected him to read and sign. He seemed very distressed at first until I explain it was a sexual contract and not some kind of postnuptial agreement.

“You see, my new husband, I am a huge fan of Female Lead Relationships. It basically means that I am the boss. I will have final say on all matters for our whole marriage. You and I will both have responsibilities to each other, but you will be punished if you fail to meet yours.” I tried to explain. After a long pause, I continued, “It’s not legally binding but I do take this very seriously. Oh, and James, this is what I want out of our relationship.”

I rehearsed the words many times. I thought back to the dozen or so times I stood in front of a mirror and repeated my lines over and over again. I wanted to make sure I had the perfected tone and inflection of my words. I wanted to make it clear that I wanted this and that I have high expectations of it, but without him feeling forced or trapped.

The next 45 minutes was filled with him meticulously reading the 23-page document and asking questions.

“What’s a cockcage”, he asked sounding slightly worried.

“Oh, my dear, it’s a device that locks onto the beautiful piece of meat and I will have the key. It will prevent you from touching it without my permission.” I said, very directly.

As his questions continued, I decided to have some fun. I sank to my knees and crawled under the table to between his legs. He asked me a question about butt plugs as I plunged my mouth onto his already hard dick.

“Oh Baby, please? I really want to read this for you.” He moaned. I could hear the pleasure in his voice as I worked.

I took him deep into my mouth, going slow at first. Taking my time as my tongue slid up and down the underside of his dick. As I would lift my head to just the tip of his large cock, I slid my hand up right behind it, slowly squeezing as it neared the well lubed head. He moaned in pleasure.

“I’m going to teach you about something called edging and by the time I am finished, you will have signed the contracted.” I told him in between the strokes of his cock.

He desperately tried to ask me what I meant but my mouth and hand were too much for him. I took him complete in my mouth until my nose encountered his well-defined and naked abs.

Within only a few minutes, I had him warning me that he was about to cum; a nice courtesy to extend to any woman sucking a dick. But it would be different for James this time.

I abruptly released his cock and it bounced up, hitting him in the stomach. I knew what his would do to him.

“Honey, edging is when you bring a guy close to orgasm over and over but never let him cum. It’s used as a tool for controlling him but, also, it helps the guy make difficult decisions. For example; you can sign the contract and give yourself to me forever and I will let you cum. Or you cannot sign, and I will leave your hard dick as it is and you can suffer until I feel like letting you cum. It’s you’re choice my dear.” I explained, knowing full well what he would say.

“No please Scarlett. Please finish.” He begged.

I reached up and handed him the finely crafted blue inked pen. He closed his fingers around it as I engulfed his cock once more. I could see his hands drop by his side as he enjoyed me teasing him.

I, once again, started teasing him with my hand as it made its way up his cock, squeezing tightly over the tip. Within minutes he was moaning again. This time, he thrusted his hips, trying to get as much pleasure as he could.

“Please keep going. Please baby, it feels so good.” He pleaded. I notice that it was a request this time. I was impressed by the speed in which he learned.

“Just sign the contract.” I said as I released his dick.

He moaned and begged me to continue. I slowly licked from his balls and up his shaft. I made sure to remind him that I was still there.

He paused but then raised his hand and signed the last page of the contract. I was pleased with him and made sure he received the entirety of his reward. My hand increased speed as I stroked his cock. His moaning increased, and he warned me for a third time in five minutes that he was bartın escort about to cum.

This time, I forced myself down onto him. Taking the whole length of his cock in one gulp, he screamed as he exploded into my mouth. I moaned as I felt his warm cum fill my mouth. He shot for what seemed like minutes and after, he sat lopsided in the chair. Once again, I left my new husband struggling to breathe and ready to pass out.

I continued to massage and clean his cock for nearly ten minutes as he moaned in pleasure. I was careful not to touch the tip of his cock too much. I wanted to massage him, not punish him.

Eventually, his dick started to grow again. I was impressed that he was going onto his third time tonight.

“Where have you been all my life, James?” I thought as his member grew to attention.

I got up and stood next to my once dominating husband whom I had wrapped around my figure. I inspected the papers and although his signature was a little sloppy, likely from the pleasure I was delivering at the time, he signed and dated.

“I have yet another thing for you to do tonight my dear.” I said as I lead him by the hand to the edge of the bed.

“Now, as you know, just an hour ago, you filled my perfect, tight, black, pussy with your cum.” I said as I sat down and laid back.

I continued my seductive movements as I slowly slid my thong off my waist and down to my ankles. “In our contract, it says that you are responsible for disposing of all cum; mine or yours.” I informed him.

He nodded that he did see that clause.

“So, get on your knees and lick my pussy clean.” I said in a harsh tone.

He seemed startled. I have never even raised my voice at James before. He’s always been too perfect for that. But now I was prepared to do whatever I had to in order to have my perfect submissive husband.

Luckily for him, he remained my perfect man and sank to his knees. Though he did go slow and was obviously reluctant, he did as he was told.

His face inched closer to me. My panties were still around both ankles, so I extended my legs, hooking the back of his neck with my lace thong and pulled him into my snatch. Once there, all hesitation left his body. His tongue shot into me. I was moaning in pleasure immediately.

I grabbed him by his hair and pulled tight as I screamed through yet another orgasm. As I rode his tongues pleasure, I continued to pull him. He worked my clit until I couldn’t take it anymore and I pushed him away.

After my body recovered, I grab James by his hand and pulled his naked body into bed with me. I kissed him deeply, tasting myself on his lips. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to his naked body. I could feel his cock growing against my back side.

“I love you baby, but this will have to wait” I said, patting his hard-on.

Within minutes we were both asleep.

I woke up before James which was unusual for us. Normally, he was up by dawn, but I suppose our wedding and first night of sexual relations tired him out. The thought of him needing extra sleep due to my pussy made me smile.

I was still wearing the sexy white outfit from the night before. I wanted to make use of it once more. I sank under the sheets on top of my sleeping husband and took his limp cock into my mouth. It took me only a few seconds to have him fully erected and moaning.

As he began to wake up, his moaning became louder. I always loved the sound of a man moaning while he was in my mouth. Knowing with just my oral skills, I could control the rest of his orgasm.

“Ask me for permission before you cum.” I told him as he started thrusting his hips to meet my mouth.

“Please Scarlett! Please let me cum!” He begged.

He was very good the night before, so I indulged him. My tongue probed the tip of his cock and soon he was shooting his thick white cum into my awaiting mouth. I continue to bob my head on him, making sure to suck him dry. As I would close my lips around the head, he would jump in his seat. I giggled at his uncontrollable reaction.

I left him to recover as I showered and got ready for the day. I came back out with just a towel on which James seemed to love. I walked over to one of my suitcases and made a show of bending over, putting my ass on perfect display for him.

I returned to him, lying naked in the large bed, with a velvet pouch. I poured the contents out and onto his stomach. He didn’t say anything as I toyed with the scattered parts.

“This, my dear, is a cockcage. It will be locked tight around your gorgeous dick. I will then have complete control over what you do with it.” I explained as I attached the hinged metal ring around the base of his balls.

I didn’t want to give him too much time to consider the event taking place. I wanted him locked up and controlled for the day.

“Baby, I’m not sure about this.” He objected as I slide the steal cylinder on his rod.

I smiled to reassure him as the final part went on. A small, but strong, padlock ığdır escort held the unit in place. The last thing in the velvet pouch was an expensive gold chain that I bought just for this, which had a small key instead of a locket. I put it around my neck as we got dressed for our day.

Our day was long with lots of hiking in the mountains. We stopped at a lake and I made him watch as I skinny dipped, still wearing the key around my neck. It was measured perfectly to hang between my breasts. I knew I was driving James wild.

By the time we arrived for our reservations at dinner, James was begging for release from the cage. We had dinner and some drinks, the whole time my foot was in his lap. I could feel the cage through is thin trousers.

After dinner, I decided to help my captive husband. I told him to fallow me and I led him to a small family bathroom in the back of the restaurant. I told him to remove his pants, which he did quickly, and I slowly lowered myself to my knees in front of him.

I slowly and seductively pulled the chain from between my tits and inserted it into the lock.

“Do you want to come out and play?” I asked as if I didn’t already know the answer.

“Please Scarlett, just take the damn thing off so I can fuck you.” he said, rather dominatingly.

“I think you forgot who’s in charge here.” I teased as I start to pull the key out. “I own you James. Forever. You do not fuck me. You may ask permission, and if you’re lucky I will grant you the reward of getting your cock anywhere near my perfect body. Do you understand?”

“Yes Scarlett, I understand.” I loved hearing the defeat in his voice as I continued removing the cage. I giggled at the power that he so easily gave up to me.

“Also, from now on, I am your Goddess and that is how you will refer to me.” I said, waiting for the perfect time to unleash that on to him.

“Yes, Goddess.” He responded, learning very quickly.

I unlocked him and slid the tube away. He let out a sign of relief as his half hard cock finished growing.

“Goddess wants you to fuck her in the ass. I love anal sex and I want you to get used to it. Do you understand?” I said as I wondered if I was doing too much too fast. After all, we just started having sex 24 hours ago and I didn’t want him to start to wonder who he has married.

“Please, Goddess! Please, I would love to fuck your perfect ass.” He said, dashing most of my concerns.

I pulled a small bottle of lube from my purse and handed it to him. He knew what to do. Within seconds he was inching himself into me. He went slow and used large amounts of lube. I loved the feeling of the cool liquid as it first made contact with my tight asshole.

He took his time and as he pressed into me, I moaned and pushed back. I could no longer wait to feel my asshole stretched around his massive tool. After a few minutes, he increased his rhythm and I was moaning in pleasure. I was sure that anyone waiting outside the door could hear me.

He grabbed my waist tightly and pulled me into each thrust. I could hear his breathing become heavy as he neared his point of climax.

“Yes. Oh yes, my slave. Cum in my tight ass. Oh God, fuck me, fuck me hard!” I screamed.

He moaned and panted as I felt my bowels fill with his cum. I moaned as his wave of fluids pushed me over the edge causing me to squirt and orgasm as he pounded away at my rear. I screamed out as the pleasure overtook my body.

After a few minutes, James slowly pulled out of me. Leaving my ass filled with his seed. He fell back, catching himself on the wall.

“You know what to do next my handsome slave.” I said as I maintained my bent over the sink position.

“Ummm, what do you mean?” He asked.

Then, as if he flipped a switch, my inner dominatrix came out. I grabbed him tightly by his soft cock and twisted. He yelped in pain.

“I made it very clear yesterday that you clean up all your messes.” I explained as I squeezed a little harder.

“Scarlett please. That hurts” He pleaded.

“Oh, I think you mean Goddess.” I corrected as I released his cock and gave his balls a hard slap. He screeched as the pain shot through him.

“Now, get on your knees and clean my cum filled asshole like a good boy.” I said, still giggling from the sound I made him make a few moments before.

Although he seemed reluctant, soon his tongue was deep inside me. I bent over and spread my feet slightly, to give him better access.

With his face buried in my tight ass, I looked back to see his dick start to get hard again. I knew he would love this once he got used to it.

He soon finished up and remained on his knees. I sat on the counter and directed him between my legs and to my pussy.

“You are going to eat my pussy.” I explained, and he quickly went to work on my still dripping cunt.

His tongue torpedoed into me and moaned immediately.

“Oh, fuck yes. Eat my pussy like a good slave.” I said as I reached under my shirt to play with my tits.

It only took me a few minutes for yet another orgasm to overtake my body. My hand grabbed him by his short hair and pulled him tightly into me and I closed my tights on his face, keeping him still. His tongue never missed a beat. As I came, he worked my clit with an increased pace. When I finally recovered from the pleasure that his tongue inflicted upon me, I felt as though I needed a nap.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

She walks towards him, hips swaying slightly in the confident, provocative manner he knows so well. She is just 18, and still so inexperienced, despite her worldly-wise attitude and overdone make-up. She is trying so hard to look older, thinking that plastering her face is the way to do it, but she’s still so naïve. She gives him the hard, cool look she seems to think so sophisticated, and he knows that she thinks she can see right through him.

He is standing outside the doorway into his office. The door is open slightly and he pushes it wider. He says nothing as she enters showing no fear, despite what is to come. She tries so hard to appear not to care. All he can do is watch, taking in her swaying bottom in its tight, short skirt, her long hair hanging so gracefully over her shoulders…

He closes the door behind her and walks past her, catching the sweet scent of her perfume as he moves around to sit behind his desk. She stands in front of him, hands behind her back. Her breasts are pushed forward and strain the buttons of her tight blouse, and he can’t help but admire them, as she looks past him and stares out of the small dormer window which provides the only natural light in his small attic room.

“Sophie,” he breaks the silence. “Do you know why you have been sent to me?”

She gives him a sulky pout. “Yes, Sir.” He waits for her to continue, but she is staring out of the window once more, and he feels a little impatient. His feelings show in his voice as he asks, “So why is that?”

She looks him in the eye, a wry smile on her face, and tells him, “Miss Brown says I’m a slut, Sir.”

“And are you?” the words are out before he can stop himself. “I… I mean, why does she say that?”

“Because of the way I dress, Sir,” she says, smiling.

He takes this as an invitation to look at her clothing in more detail. Her blouse is open at the neck, her school tie hanging loosely around the collar. The thin material of the white blouse shows her black bra clearly underneath. Her skirt is way too short, and she wears black stockings – he can tell because the lacey tops show just below her hemline. Her black high-heeled shoes are far from regulation, but when she walks they contribute to the sexual sway of her hips.

“Well I have to agree with her that what you’re wearing is more than a little inappropriate for school,” he says finally, as he feels his temperature, amongst other things, rising. “And of course your make-up and those ear rings will have to go too. There is no doubt you will have to be punished for your conduct.”

He can see that this statement has little effect on her. She’s expecting a few detentions, and having to wear regulation uniform for a while, because this is all that normally happens. This time, he’s decided, it will be different. If she’s determined to be a slut, she will get the punishment that a slut deserves.

He bursa escort stands. She looks at him defiantly and he frowns slightly. “This time you won’t get off as lightly as you have in the past, Sophie.” He walks over to the corner of the room, where there is an umbrella stand. He selects a thin cane from amongst several he keeps there, just in case. Turning, he sees the uncertainty in her face, this time she is less self-assured as she sees what he holds. She chews on her lip, the scarlet lipstick contrasting sharply with the whiteness of her teeth. He walks towards her, and pulls a chair out from under the desk. Placing it to one side of her, he walks over to the door and locks it. Now she is really worried. This room is so far from the rest of the school, and anyway most people will have left for home by now.

“Bend over the back of the chair, now!” he orders. She looks at him in the forlorn hope that maybe he is just playing with her, that it’s all some weird joke – no one gets caned any more, do they? “Do it!,” this time he won’t be disobeyed. She bends forward and places her hands on the seat, leaning her body against the tall upright back, and feeling the hard frame pushing into her waist. Her hair falls forward, covering her face, but she is shaking slightly and he sees her fear.

“Sophie, you are a slut,” he tells her, “and you need to know how sluts are treated. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbles. “Louder! Tell me what you are,” he demands, and she almost shouts it out, “Yes Sir, I’m a slut.”

He walks slowly around behind her, and stands for a while, admiring her tight cheeks in the little black lace panties which he had imagined she would wear under that short skirt. He wonders how many of the boys in the school have been given this pleasure. Well, he thinks, it’s about time this little slut experienced a man.

“Spread your legs a little, Sophie, and stick out your bottom, that’s right.” He reaches forward and runs the cane gently over her rounded contours, and she gasps softly as she feels it. “But this won’t do. Naughty girls have to be caned on their bare flesh, so that they can really feel their punishment,” and he reaches forward, taking the elastic of her panties in one hand and pulling them slowly down to reveal her beautiful, smooth skin. He places them at her knees, and tells her to spread her legs wider – the panties must on no account fall to the floor, or there will be further punishment.

He can’t resist touching her any longer. His hand strokes that sweet behind, caressing it gently as he prepares her for her lesson. His fingers probe between her cheeks and slowly move forward until he can feel the wetness seeping from her velvety cunt. He knew this would be a turn-on for her, a true slut. She moans as his fingers explore, almost forgetting the threat of the caning. He çanakkale escort is aware of his cock, so hard in his trousers now that it’s almost painful, and reluctantly takes his hand away. He has to correct her… first.

Standing back, he runs his cane over her bare bottom once more, then pulls it back. “Count for me, Sophie,” he commands, as he takes the first stroke. Not too hard, this first one… swish! But she screams nonetheless, more in surprise than pain, as it stings her cheeks. She stands and rubs her bottom, looking around at him, but he pushes her back into position. “You didn’t count, Sophie. That will mean an extra stroke,” he informs her. “Please Sir, no!” she complains, and he takes another stroke. “From one, Sophie!.”

“One!” she cries, as she feels a more intense stinging sensation. Again, he strokes her with the cane, and she cries out, “Two!” And now he is in his stride, and he gives her eight more strokes in rapid succession, each one measured to be slightly harder than the last. “Ten!” she screams, finally. He looks down, yes, the panties are still in place at her knees. He smiles.

Moving forward, he gently touches the red welts which are forming on those perfect cheeks, and she winces. Bending down, he kisses each one softly, his tongue outlining them and caressing her skin. Her soft sobbing gives way to sensual moans as he pulls her cheeks apart and laps gently at her soaking wet cunt with his tongue, tasting her sweet juices. His fingers explore, spreading her engorged labia, and feeling for her tight hole. He pushes up slowly, feeling his way into her softness, his finger sliding easily deep inside her. He knows she is ready for him, but she needs another lesson first.

“Stand up and turn around, Sophie,” he says. “Your tie is a mess. Take it off!” Looking him in the eye, she complies, reaching up and slowly pulling it undone, then dropping it to the floor at his feet. He notices that she still stands with her legs spread, holding up the panties, and that the short, tight skirt has risen on her thighs, exposing more of the stocking tops. Her blouse is unbuttoned to her cleavage. He grasps the front and rips it open, exposing her round breasts in their push-up bra. “The blouse is torn, Sophie,” he points out, “It’ll have to come off.” Obligingly, she slips it off her shoulders and it drops to the ground behind her. He is so hard now that he can barely think of anything else, but he persists with her inspection. “Take off the panties, please. But don’t let them touch the floor,” he warns. She lifts up each leg in turn and slips the panties quickly over her feet, bunching them up and holding out her hand to offer them to him. Taking them, he pushes them deep into his pocket.

“Now, Sophie, pull up your skirt for me, I want to see your pussy,” he orders. Slowly, seductively, she hitches rize escort up the hem and exposes her partially shaven cunt. “Spread your legs a little wider,” he says, and she does so, ankles straining on those heels. “You are a good little slut, Sophie, and I need you to do something for me now. Kneel at my feet, please.”

“Yes, Sir,” she says, and falls to her knees, legs still spread and skirt around her waist. She looks up at him as he moves closer to her, grabbing a handful of her long hair. “Unzip me,” he says, and her hands move quickly to obey. He undoes the trouser button and she pulls them down for him. She knows what to do, is not wholly inexperienced, and she takes his straining cock into her soft hand and guides it to her mouth. Leaning back against his desk, he sighs as she caresses his hardness with her soft, wet tongue, her red lips closing around the tip as she starts to suck. But, too soon, he is close to cumming and he doesn’t want that yet.

“Stand up, now,” he tells her hoarsely, “and take off that slutty bra!” She stands and he watches as she unfastens it and slowly pulls the straps down her slender arms, finally exposing her erect, dark pink nipples to his gaze. Bending forward, he takes the left into his mouth, sucking and nibbling gently as he squeezes the right with his hand. She moans, “Oh Sir,” and he reaches around to unzip her skirt and push it off her hips, letting it fall and allowing her to step out of it. She stands in front of him, unashamed at her near-nakedness, and he admires her body as he removes his own clothes to reveal his well muscled chest and thighs. He can see her appraising look, and is thankful that he keeps in shape.

He has to have her, now! “Bend over the desk, please,” he tells her, and she leans forward exposing that beautiful rear to him once more, the stripes subsiding now. With one thrust, he is deep inside her and she gasps at the force of his entry. She is so wet now, but also so tight, and he finds it hard to stay in control. His hands on the desk, arms supporting him above her, he slowly moves in and out, savouring every thrust, as she sighs with pleasure. She moves closer to the edge of the desk allowing her clit to rub against it each time he pushes into her. Stopping briefly, he turns her over to lie on her back, and thrusts into her once more as he reaches forward to cup her soft breasts in his large hands. Her legs are spread wide and he enters her so deeply.

A sheen of sweat glistens on her body and her eyes are closed as she moans and calls his name, and he knows she is very close to orgasm. “Cum with me, Sophie, my slut,” he says, “I want to fill you now,” knowing he can hold back no longer. Moments later, his cum explodes into her waiting body, and he feels her spasm with her own pleasure. Slumping forward, he kisses her throat and neck, and lies there for a while, exhausted. “You are my slut,” he tells her, when he gets his breath back, “don’t forget this lesson, or I will have you here again.” She winks at him, “No Sir, I won’t forget.”

He rises and sits in a chair, watching as his slut, his colleague, Miss Brown, dresses. And as she leaves, she turns to give him that sexy grin he knows so well, and to confirm, “Same time next week?”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

12-1-14

It wasn’t my dungeon, but it was a dungeon and that was good enough for the moment. My house didn’t have a space this size to turn into a playroom and while I was a smidgen jealous I didn’t begrudge it’s owners. After all, they’d graciously allowed me private access for this little adventure. My eyes and fingers strolled around the room, gazing and touching each piece of fantasy furniture. Two different spanking benches. A St. Andrew’s Cross. One smallish cage and right next to it a large pet carrier that would fit a humongous dog or a small person. Fortunately most subs tended not to be claustrophobic. Some smaller non-fixed stocks and the like. Lots of chains and attachment points secured to the ceiling beams here and there. A big comfy-looking futon bed piled with pillows and stuffed animals sat in one corner as a decompression space.

It was a beginning dungeon. Not completely jam packed with gear as so many tended to be. This was a good thing. Lots of room for improvement and places to put new stuff. I had a suspicion that I might be contributing a few items in the future. If not for my own amusement, then definitely as a return favor for the loan of the room.

My personal needs as far as furniture was concerned on this day were fairly simple. Aside from the ambiance of preferring a dungeon, that is. I’d only needed two items they didn’t have and I brought them with me since they were portable. A small wooden stool about two and a half feet tall. Simple and plain. Round seat with rungs between the legs, like any kitchen or dinette stool you might find in any house in America. Three bucks from a thrift store. It’s worth to me? Priceless. The other was a pad from a chaise lounge which I had modified to suit a specific purpose I will describe later.

Check my watch. Plenty of time.

No time to dawdle, but more than enough to prepare. The girl would be here soon.

There were two items of non-dungeon-ish furniture I had wanted and fortunately they were already there. Yard sale and thrift store items that always came in handy. One was a wooden library table which was usable for so many things. It wasn’t so large it took up too much room but more than big enough to tie a pet down to all four corners for some play time, as well as being sturdy enough to hold two people in case things progressed that far. Plus it was just a handy place to put your stuff.

I owed a large debt to whomever in antiquity first imagined the concept of the table.

He or she was just a freaking genius.

The other item I required was a long low coffee table. One of those old fake mission style things made by the millions back in the 70’s. Dark wood. Two feet wide by over four feet long and massive as a block of granite. Seriously usable as they could stand a lot of banging around but a serious pain in the bucket when it came time to move.

Since I’m all about not straining my back, especially at my age, I elected to move the library table closer to the coffee table rather than vice-versa.

Placing the stool in between the two completed the heavy lifting portion of my prep work.

When I bought the the chaise lounge pad I’d cut a long slit down the center of the cover material and scooped out a portion of the foam padding about four inches wide, two feet long and two inches deep. In this cavity I placed an electric “massager” with a round head, trailing the cord down the slit and out the end of the pad. Over this I placed a wide strip of soft leather and stuck it down with some flexible fabric glue. Now I had a pad with a built in massage head the protruded about two inches above the plane of the pad and less if someone was laying on top of it. Some extra electrical ingenuity put a variable speed control near the head of the pad where I could reach it.

Today would determine if that project had been worth the effort or not. I laid the pad across the top of the coffee table and ran an extension cord to the wall socket.

The few other props I needed slid out of my gym bag and onto the table top. A couple of them I covered with a towel to keep the surprise as long as possible. The others I wanted out in the open.

My hands were shaking just a little bit. Not an uncommon occurrence at my age, but it irritated me. Of course I was excited on several different levels to account for it but still… I took a few moments to stretch and do some deep breathing to find my calm space and relax.

Checked again. Steady as a rock. Excellent.

This little scene had been years in the making. Little Miss Marigold Granger had been but an infant on the day we first met. The only daughter of a friend and his wife who were more or less on the outskirts of my social circle. People I saw infrequently most of the time. But I had encountered them often enough for their daughter to take a liking to me. Over the years I had watched her grow first into a sweet and endearing child, then a smart and imaginative teen followed too closely by a strong and self assured young lady. The transformation had been often astonishing.

One muğla escort of the things which had kept us in contact with each other over the years was our mutual love and admiration for books. She had a voracious appetite for the printed word and she valued my opinion highly. I could not even number the times I had sent her home with grocery sacks full of new books to read and new worlds to encounter.

The eager smile on her lips was my reward.

It was my love of books that would prove to be my downfall.

Or perhaps my salvation.

I’d had to take a few days down south on a short business trip and I had asked Marigold to watch the house and feed my dog while I was away. She’d readily agreed and had settled in with new treasures from my bookshelf as I headed out. Not once did I give a single thought to the bookshelf in the bedroom which held my personal collection of erotica. It was an eclectic assemblage from light erotica to outright porn with a heavy accent on BDSM-themed stories, since those were my favorite kink.

Of course if I had given it a thought it wouldn’t have mattered a bit, as that wonderful little girl was now over eighteen and more than capable of making up her own mind.

In retrospect I probably should have been paying more attention to the look on her face when I returned home again. But I was just so happy to be home in one piece I didn’t pay it any mind.

Fast forward ten years

One of the best things about moving back into town was being able to get reacquainted with my little golden child. I’d missed everything about her. While I had been away she’d married a very nice young man whom I both liked and approved of. He was more than good enough for my best girl. They seemed quite happy together and I was looking forward to being around both of them and at least being a small part of their life.

What I wasn’t really expecting was the amount of change which had taken place in the last ten years. I knew she and her husband were sharing a house with another couple. At first I thought it was just friends living together. The little bits of information slowly showed me they were living in a polyamorous relationship with these other young people. Kind of their own private little swingers club.

Well! Good for them.

Then a few more tidbits managed to make their way to the surface. Hints leading to this and that. Things which made my eyebrows crawl right up my forehead.

One of those was a link to her profile on a well known kink website which opened up to show me facets of little Mari’s psyche which I hadn’t even suspected.

Pictures of her naked which made me feel a little funny at first.

Pictures of her in a little red fox costume. Ears and paws and a tail attached to her waist and nothing else. Those were… intriguing. But I still felt a little funny.

Pictures of her playing with a certain cute little redhead that were highly erotic. Especially since I’d had some of the same thoughts about the same girl in my mind.

Pictures of her and that redhead bound and gagged. The funny feeling faded some and left me warm all over.

Pictures of my sweet little Mari bound in many different ways. Sometimes by herself and sometimes with her hubby or with a handful of different women. I clicked on each one and expressed my liking of her choice of both play activities and partners.

That funny feeling had completely disappeared by this time.

If that wasn’t enough, my little golden child decided that “Dear sweet Uncle Rex” wasn’t quite getting the message fast enough and began sending me more in emails. Each one had a dozen or more pictures attached. Each one of those pics was designed for a sole purpose: To get me hard and wanting.

They worked.

Then came the videos.

Oooohhhh… snap.

The tamest one was her setting up her phone as a video camera with music playing in the background. Then she turned her back, hiked up that skimpy little dress around her waist and shook her fine little ass to the music.

And it was definitely one fine little ass.

They got more and more explicit from there.

One of my very favorite videos ever was twelve minutes of Mari’s face. Just her face, nothing more. I say “nothing more” if you discount the fact that for the following twelve minutes I got to see that little darling moving from one orgasm to the next. Not those fake screaming orgasms you see in the porn films. Real, actual happy trembling waves of ecstasy passing over and over her face. You couldn’t see what was going on below the camera angle to cause such reactions, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was her angelic smile and the look of sublime pleasure.

It was very easily, hands down, the sexiest thing I had ever seen in my life.

And that’s saying something. I’ve seen some stuff.

I sat behind my computer and growled.

Howled.

Hardened repeatedly.

Made several messes.

Cleaned them up and started all over, watching those ordu escort videos again and again.

I knew that most of these pictures and videos were not made expressly for my benefit. But once again, it didn’t matter. Not one bit. What did matter was she had sent them to me.

And, as if she still wasn’t sure I was getting the message, she began interspersing her emails with “I want you.”

Well, that was pretty plain.

Most of my replies went along this line:

“My little golden fox-

I want you too, love.

I just hope you are ready to pay the price for teasing your dear grouchy old uncle this way. You are driving me to distraction. One day soon I will turn you over my knee and paddle you soundly for that.

I’m just sayin’…

-Uncle R”

I was getting her message. I wonder if she was getting mine?

I guess I’d soon find out. She was due any moment.

Setting all of this up had taken some work. Getting the things made and arranging to borrow this wonderful little room. Telling my little Hermione (a pet name only hardcore Potterheads would recognize) when and where and what.

In most of my interactions with Mari over the years I had just been in “sweet old funny uncle” mode. It was a role I’d taken with her for decades. Though a number of my messages of late had been growly and dark with threats of repercussions, I’d never gone full-blown “Dom” with her before.

Now was the time.

“Miss marigold-

It has come the time for Me to show you the error of your ways, girl.

Saturday evening, 6pm sharp.

407 2nd Street. In the basement.

Wear that short little silvery dress. You know which one.

And nothing else.

I will be waiting.

Do NOT be late.

-Rex”

Then there she was.

Right on the dot of the hour I heard the sound of the door opening and closing upstairs. It amused me to imagine her standing on the step, a combination of excitement and trepidation crossing her face as she counted down the seconds. Perhaps her thighs and hips twitching a bit in anticipation, nipples hard under the thin material of that skimpy scrap of dress. Maybe even the cheeks of her ass tightening in expectation of taking the brunt of my displeasure over her incessant teasing.

Her footsteps were soft on the wood floor overhead. Due to the layout of the house I got to listen to each step as she made her way to the basement door.

At the door she hesitated and the smile of a hungry wolf awaiting it’s prey crossed my lips.

One breath.

Two…

Three… and the door opened.

One more breath and a sigh before her little bare feet appeared on the top step. Each step down showed more and more of those fine smooth legs. I almost wondered for a moment if she had disobeyed (or felt a little extra bold) and decided to come down totally naked in an attempt to throw me off my game.

If she had, it probably would have worked. I’d have been disconcerted.

But then the hem of her dress came into view, just covering the tops of her thighs and her taut little ass. Fingers barely touching the handrail, showing her confidence. Or trying to, anyway. I could also see the tenseness in her body. Her hand ready to grab the rail and sprint back up the stairs at a moments notice. I reveled in her uncertainty.

She knew what I was going to do. Some of it, anyway.

I’d made that more than clear enough.

Yes, my little Marigold had been spanked before. Many times. I’d seen the pictures. She was an experienced submissive. More than one Dom/me had wrung cries of pain and pleasure from her lips over the years. Hell, Mari had endured things much more extreme than what I had planned for her.

But this… this was different.

It was personal.

I wasn’t just some Dom she had met and agreed to a play session with. There were no pre-scene “negotiations” or safe word discussions. Her husband wasn’t waiting upstairs or lurking in the corner keeping an eye on his girl or even taking pictures or video to memorialize the event so it could be posted on her web page.

Although I do wish I would have thought of that… damn.

Ah, well…

I was her kindly old uncle Rex, who she’d managed to push beyond the limits of my endurance. Now all she knew for sure that I was going to punish her for teasing me.

And maybe… just maybe… I was going to give her what she wanted.

I did so love the look in a subbies eyes when they didn’t know what was going to happen next. The look in her eyes in no way disappointed me. My little Mari, who was always so bubbly and ebullient was a bit subdued and unsure of herself for the first time in many many years. There was a little nervous smile on her lips and a look of uncertainty in her eyes as she paused on the very last step, as if unsure she really wanted to complete the journey.

After all, it had taken us almost twenty eight years to reach this place.

With one more soft sigh, she stepped down to osmaniye escort the floor.

“Hello, Sir.” My heart trembled a little bit, hearing those words. I’d always been “Rex” or “Uncle” before. Other bits of my anatomy stirred as well at her words.

“Right on time, little golden child. Good girl.” It was her turn to shiver a bit at mine. Even from across the room I could clearly see the hard little nubs of her nipples poking through the thin material. It seemed she had indeed followed my directions to the letter.

My finger pointed to the rug in front of my feet.

“Right here, girl.”

With a barely whispered “Yes, Sir.” she crossed the room and knelt at my feet, composing herself with eyes down and hands on her thighs. A very experienced sub indeed.

“Do you know why you are here, child?”

“You are going to paddle me for teasing you, Sir.”

“Are you sorry you teased your poor old uncle, Mari?” A grin twisted her lips and she shook her head.

“Nope.” I had to fight hard not to chuckle myself.

“Even though you knew this was going to happen.”

“Yes, Sir. Even so.”

“All righty, then.” If anybody at work heard me say that, there would be eyebrows raised. It was my “Oh snap, here we go…” phrase. It seemed appropriate at the time. I was planning on raining fire on that pert little butt of hers. Picking up two things from the table, I tossed one of them into her lap. A black stretchy hair band.

“As much as I love that mass of beautiful curly hair, it will be in my way this evening, baby girl. Tie it back for me, please.”

“Yes, Sir.” She barely got that done before her eyes widened as I showed her the second item. It was a collar I had made from dark leather and brass chains. Any other time it would have made her gush like a schoolgirl. Tonight it just made her eyes go wide and I jumped in to speak before any of the words could reach her lips.

“I am well aware that you belong to another, golden girl. But I have spoken to Red, as well as Cuffs and Kan and they consented graciously. Said to send you their love, of course.” I held out the collar, dangling it in front of her eyes.

“By wearing this you agree that tonight you belong to nobody but Me.” Fingers gently reached out, touching mine for a brief moment as she took it from my grasp. She clutched it in her hand and pressed it to her chest in between those sweet titties, lowering her head and her eyes.

“I… I am honored, Sir.” Then those gorgeous brown eyes lifted to mine and she said “Thank you, Master.”

I tried my best to ignore what hearing that from her own mouth did to my heart. Gruffly I said “If you agree, put it on, girl. We have things to do.”

“Oh! Yes, Sir! Of course!” Hastily she buckled it in place around her neck. It made me feel a little better about my own excitement when I saw her fingers were trembling as she fumbled the strap before getting it placed and snugged down.

As I suspected, that plain little collar became as dazzling as one of the crown jewels around her neck. My little Marigold could make mud look like diamonds.

On with the show.

“Stand up.” I raised my hand. “Lift your dress up around your waist.”

She had indeed followed my directions. Nothing under that skirt but pure golden girl. Shaved clean except for a thin patch of fur about two fingers wide and three inches long. A “landing strip” as the kids nowadays call it. Whatever it was, I liked it.

“Turn around.”

Target acquired and locked. Weapons hot.

That sweet little bottom which was going to be the target of at least most of my frustrations over the last few months. It pleased me no end to see that her thighs and hips were slightly in motion even as she tried to stand still. The muscles of her ass twitched and flexed in anticipation.

As I stepped up close behind her, the tension in the room almost crackled like static electricity.

Deciding to break it just for a moment, I leaned in and whispered “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” A quick “Eep!” escaped her lips and she broke into a giggle which suddenly cut off as I grabbed her thick curly hair roughly where she had tied it back.

“Are you wet, girl?” I hissed. She mewled a little in her need.

“Oooohhhh… yes, Sir! I’m so fucking wet I can’t believe it!” I released her and sat down on my stool, one hand patting the top of my thigh.

“Good. Come her, Mari. Keep your dress up.”

Like the good girl she was, she laid herself over my lap. One hand grabbed the rungs of the stool and I pulled her other arm behind her, securing it in the small of her back with my fingers wrapped around her wrist. She made a small squeal and kicked a bit as I lifted my foot up on the rung, pulling her feet free of the ground. That made me chuckle.

“Are you sorry yet?”

“Nope! Eek!!” Her sassy reply was cut short by my palm smacking her ass hard, leaving a pink imprint of my hand on the pale flesh of her butt. I took just a moment to admire my handiwork.

Pun intended.

Deciding I liked the results, I continued. A dozen or more swats landed at different intervals and different places on her bottom while she gasped and squeaked and wiggled and kicked her feet. Normally I am more controlled, measuring out each stroke before I begin and keeping track of how many, even having a punished pet count them out loud.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Chapter One

Night of Submission

“S’il vous plait, Monsieurs! Je ne suis pas homosexuel! Ne me faites pas faire ça!” pleaded the muscular young soldier being led barefoot and naked through the torchlit passage. “Je vous en supplie, ne m’utilisez pas car j’utilise les femmes du village!” How well the handsome prisoner whose bad luck it was to be captured during a recent battle knew the fate awaiting him. He had heard the rumors about Le Cercle des Lords. Then while waiting to confess his sins to a local priest behind a pile of hay in a village near their camp he had overheard a young knight sobbing while he poured out the story of his night of torture, humiliation and sexual abuse by the Lords.

* * *

Beginning with that first La Nuit de la Soumission in a dungeon in the bowels of a Burgundian castle in 1517, on the first day of the first New Moon of each calendar quarter a group of men, and in recent years women, received the same brief cryptic message, an address nothing more.

Inclusion in Le Cercle des Lords was once limited to powerful friends with common and unique sexual interests. Years, decades, centuries passed, monarchies fell, fashions changed and social classes mingled. Le Cercle des Lords changed too. Membership once exclusively male now included women, and once consisting of nobles, highly respected artists, senior clerics, intellectuals and very wealthy merchants broaden to include athletes, members of the military, musicians and entertainers. The French language title was dropped in favor of a more contemporary sounding Circle of Lords, or just The Circle. Where notice of the location of each quarterly gathering was once delivered by finely penned notes on small rolls of parchment then later on hand-delivered notes on purple edged vellum and eventually by an anonymous voice over the telephone, the announcement now arrived by text message.

There was never a need to adjust schedules. Every member knew the date and time which, like the date of the announcement of the location never changed. Except when prevented by war or plague, a Night of Submission had been held on the evening of second Full Moon of each quarter beginning at 9 p.m. since that first one in 1517. Those who could, scheduled their attendance at the beginning of each year especially since within 24-hours of responding with their intention to attend each quarter an email arrived with travel and lodging reservations paid by The Circle.

The upcoming gathering would be at 2000 Astral Drive in Los Angeles. Like all venues selected for a Night of Submission, the home was borrowed for a 7-day period from owners who had no affiliation with The Circle and no knowledge of the purpose for which it would be used. In exchange for the inconvenience of surrendering their home for a week, the owners received a very generous rental fee and week-long all-expense-paid accommodations for themselves and their children, if they had children, at the 5-Star resort or hotel of their choice anywhere in the world. The site, a very large late-20th Century southern California modern on an exceptionally large walled and gated property atop one of the highest of the Hollywood Hills offered restricted access and complete privacy. The agenda for these ultra-secret sessions is always the same, the presentation in submission of an exceptional young straight adult male for the visual and interactive enjoyment of all, and as a one-use item to be auctioned off that evening.

When Michael arrived at the gate of the home high atop Nichols Canyon, he found it guarded by two muscular young men who from their stance and positioning were not just attractive showpieces. He knew their capabilities. He was also aware four more just like them were at their assigned posts around the property and that all of these young men had in recent years served very different purposes on nights such as this.

After exchanging pleasantries a guard told Michael where to park and with a smile wished him a nice evening. “I definitely intend to do that,” Michael replied as the gate began to swing silently open. It had not yet come to a stop as his Tesla accelerated through and across a large stone-paved courtyard. I never tire of the view düzce escort of L.A. from the hills at night, he thought while taking in the breathtaking sight of endless ribbons of streetlights stretching to the horizon as he guided his car slowly along a curving drive below the home’s western-facing nearly all-glass façade and slipped his car into line in front of those already parked. Car counting told him that about twenty-five people had already arrived.

After making his way around to the front of the house, Michael nodded to the guards stationed at either side of a walkway leading to the front door. Like the two identically dressed guards at the gate, it was obvious that these young men clad in black jeans, black short sleeve, button-down collar shirts, and ankle-high black Ferragamo boots with matching belts were as capable as they were decorative. Smiling, he strode up the wide flagstone walk to the front door, stopping once to reach out and stroke one of the dozens of Bird of Paradise stalks flanking either side of the walk.

Michael stepped into the home’s spacious foyer but had not yet had time to glance around before a slender arm wrapped around his neck and warm lips pressed to his ear, “Hello sweetheart, you’re finally here,” whispered Sandra Trist, a Dominatrix and one of his closest friends. “Hi baby,” he replied, turning and kissing her on the lips. “How is it tonight?”

“You are going to like what they’ve found for us. I can’t wait for the auction,” Sandra, laughed loudly. “I said they, but maybe you were involved?”

“That nice, huh? Well then, I should make my way through and take a look. And no, I had nothing to do with the selection.”

“Come, let’s stop at the bar first,” Sandra chided softly taking Michael’s arm and guiding him across the room towards several people gathered in front of a built-in wet bar. “Remember you’re a Lord now. With all that privilege comes obligation, noblesse oblige they used to call it. You need to say hello.”

Michael understood and indicated so with a nod. He still wasn’t totally comfortable with the honor and accompanying responsibilities bestowed upon him at The Circle’s last annual convocation.

While liked and respected, Michael was surprised and a bit unsure if he was up to the task when he learned was elevated to The Circle’s leadership.

The Lords were five highly regarded individuals whose word was law but who in exchange for the honor bestowed upon them were expected to safeguard the organization and lend guidance and assistance to its members. During their tenure, each Lord held a position on The Circle’s twelve-member Finance Committee which also included seven individuals carefully chosen for their financial and ethical acumen. Collectively the Finance Committee was responsible for liaising with the banks and counselors that managed the Circle of Lords multibillion-dollar investment portfolio grown over the centuries from the fortunes of several of the organization’s founders. Little known and even then, only among the most discreet financiers, when applied the Circle of Lords’ influence on international finance was on par with that of a mid-sized hedge fund or a multinational corporation.

Although far more diversified than in 1517, the Circle of Lords still included very recognizable names, its influence derived from its huge accumulated treasure when exercised altered events, and of course the love of and homage to domination and submission at the organization’s core all required protection and must remain secret. Unknown to them those being considered for membership underwent the most exhaustive background examinations. Individuals who were passed over never learned of these investigations. Those who became members never objected. As a perk of membership, any member was able to call upon the Lords or the Finance Committee for mentoring, to arbitrate disputes between them, for personal financial guidance, or for other forms of support. It was understood that during their tenure Lords were responsible for helping members advance as much as they desired and were capable of professionally, socially and economically. Few regardless of age, edirne escort class or profession failed to benefit from their association with The Circle. Michael took these responsibilities very seriously, and they weighed heavily on him.

“One nice thing among all the other nice things about us having all that money,” Michael said leaning close whispering in Sandra’s ear and referring to The Circle’s treasure as she was handing him his drink. “Is being able to pay everyone’s expenses for attending these debauched little gatherings. It is nice to know the lack of cash doesn’t deny anyone. Cheers!” He added with a smile, raising his glass to hers. “Now let’s go. Show me what’s so special about the young man on the block tonight.”

* * *

The naked athletic twenty-four-year-old was everything Sandra had intimated. His perspiration damp flesh glistened under the overhead spots. Bent forward over the wine-colored padded leather-wrapped bondage horse bar his well-defined but not overly developed muscles trembled visibly.

The once always in charge, totally in control straight man was completely helpless. His legs were spread wide with his ankles lashed to the stainless-steel legs of the device over which he lay naked and ass up. His body was secured to the leather-covered bar by a wide leather strap wrapped around his chest which was in turn connected by a tightly stretched strap to a ring on the horse’s base. It was impossible for him to attempt to free himself because his hands were bound at the wrist high up behind his back and secured to the strap encircling his chest.

Thin streams of drool that flowed from the corners of his widely stretched and stuffed mouth joined at the underside of his chin and dripped onto the floor. Unable to push the thick leather cock-gag strapped around his head out from between his widespread lips with his saliva drenched tongue, he could only snarl and grunt while his dark blue eyes darted from one to another of the men and women who approached to touch, caress, squeeze and pinch every inch of his bound body. They all knew he was straight. That only made his desperate pleading glances for pity more delicious as they ran their hands over the bulging mounds of his shoulders and biceps, down the curve of his arched back and up over his smooth, muscular flexing ass. Women particularly enjoyed slapping his treacherous steel-hard circumcised penis now in full erection, making the once-proud young stud howl as his throbbing cock whipped from side-to-side splashing precum all over his straining thighs.

The soft murmuring of the crowd and the clinking of ice in their glasses were not enough to drown out the sound of the young man’s whimpering or his loud begging and pleas for mercy as one or another man or woman toyed with his quivering ass lips or teasingly inserted a finger knuckle deep into his never previously penetrated asshole.

Word of this particular offering had attracted an unusually high degree of interest beyond that usually drawn to the spectacle of a young heterosexual male in his prime being debased and used in the most sexually humiliating ways. The team charged with acquiring appropriate subjects for submission on these special nights had learned that even though he was recently married this particular young man took particular enjoyment in being vocal about his sexual exploits, his female conquests. More research discovered that although he lived with a woman and was as far as could be determined straight, because of his financial circumstances he would probably be agreeable to offering himself up for sexual abuse and as whore for private use if well compensated.

Chris Bowman had looked forward to this night. Despite appearances, the last thing he wanted was for that big leather cock to be removed from his mouth or for the men and sadistic women who were abusing him to stop. It took great planning for him to be able to slip away from his girlfriend for this evening. He had heard rumors about a hyper secret organization like this when he was in college, but that’s all it was then rumors. No one he ever met had ever met anyone who actually knew anything about such a group. elazığ escort Then he met two guys in a bar who started talking about kinky sex. Man, did his ears perk up. They hooked up for drinks a few nights later and again the talk came around to kinky stuff. Chris was all ears, all ears and hard dick. One of them even asked him if he had ever been fucked by a chick wearing a strap on! He told them no, but said he did jerk off watching porn and wondering what that must be like. A week later he slipped away for a few hours and met them again. That when they laid it on him, the whole gig, everything they wanted him to do for them and how much they would pay him to do it. Hell yeah, he was down for it!

Posed as he was now stripped naked, bent forward with his back arched, his muscular legs spread Chris knew his firm, dimpled ass was perfectly presented. His own mental image of how he must look combined with the sight of an attractive well-dressed fortyish brunette and a good-looking guy standing beside him as he felt fingertips massaging and probing his virgin asshole kept his cock hard as steel and dancing for his tormentors. Chris whimpered loudly and his cock belched precum when the man squatted down and while gently rubbing the sensitive little clit spot on the underside of his cock whispered into his ear, “Are you wondering if it will be a man or a woman who will buy you later and spend the night fucking that tight, sweet virgin ass of yours straight man? Hmmm? I think you hope it will be a man who gives your ass the fucking it so badly deserves.”

When Michael and Sandra entered the large dimly lit room with the panoramic view of Los Angeles laid out through its all-glass south and west-facing window walls, they were greeted by the sound of leather striking flesh blending with Chris’s pitiful groans and garbled not very manly shrieks. Sliding through the small crowd gathered in a circle to observe, Sandra squeezed Michael’s forearm whispering,” I do like this.”

As he had been all evening and would be until released to be put on display for auction, Chris was in position over the bondage horse. Three chairs had been pulled up, one to the right and one to the left side of him in front of the horse, and one behind him between his spread legs. Two women sat on the chairs in front and a man on the one in back. As the women took turns stroking Chris’s hard leaking cock and rolling, squeezing and tugging on his big egg-shaped balls, the man casually whipped Chris’s muscular young ass with a small soft leather flogger alternately lashing his right cheek and then the left while constantly rubbing and tickling Chris’s tight spasming asshole. The sights and sounds of Chris squirming around bound to that padded bondage horse as his straight cock obediently burped out precum and his asshole clutched its tormentor’s fingertip as if he was a well-trained slut were of course recorded. From the size of the puddle on the floor beneath the bent over slave’s chest Michael could tell that Chris had the potential to become exactly that.

In a different part of the house, in a different building on the property to be exact, two other young men were also experiencing a Night of Submission. Unfortunately for them, Ricky Tomes and Kevin O’Brian were enduring a night that would end quite differently than Chris Bowman’s. Ricky and Kevin had made the mistake of assaulting and seriously injuring a Circle member and while they had escaped the authorities, they had not eluded The Circle’s much more determined efforts to identify and capture them.

The two straight twenty-year-olds were in the home’s detached garage, naked, trussed up like pigs and tied down facing each other on a bench their mouths joined and stuffed by the bulbous heads of a double-headed dildo while being fucked up the ass at constantly varying speeds by very big mechanized dildos. Their cocks were locked in metal tubes which along with the small clamps attached to their nipples were wired to a device that applied a small electric shock every fifteen seconds. The boys were alone. No one heard their garbled screams. Shortly before dawn, a van would arrive and the boys would be drugged, strapped into a crate, and carted off to San Pedro for loading onto a ship. During the two-week trip to the Middle East they would receive the training necessary to make them fetch high prices at the Syrian slave market. The war, ISIS, not even Trump’s craziness has interfered with business at the market.

Coming in January 2020

Chapter Two

The Auction and Voyage

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

I am under her desk.

She has tied my hands behind my back, tied my ankles together, and tied them together in a hogtie.

I wouldn’t dream of screaming for help but just to make sure she’s stuffed some worn stockings in my mouth and covered them with duct tape.

She’s pressing her sexy feet against my taped mouth.

They feel so good against my face.

She’s working on a project and that’s why she has me under the desk.

She begins to speak.

“So how are you doing down there?” she asks playfully.

“Great,” I try to respond but with the gag in my mouth it comes out “mmmppphhh.”

“I didn’t hear you, how are you doing?” she asks again.

I again try to respond but of course the gag makes it come out as “mmmmppphhh” yet again.

“Speak up!”

“Mmmmppphhhh”

“Well if you aren’t going to speak up then I won’t give you a special treat.”

“Mmmmppphhh.”

She often does this with me.

It’s part of our play.

I’m here of my own free will.

I’m here because we made a deal.

But what kind of deal would have me tied up and gagged by a beautiful woman on the floor using me as a footrest while she did her work?

Perhaps it’s best to start this story at the beginning.

I am a man with a lot of ambition but I was at a point where I had seen many career reverses.

I am someone who believes in myself but you can have all the faith, education, work ethic, intelligence, creativity, and all the other qualities that people say brings you success in the world but if you don’t have others who are believing in you, who are fighting for you, and are all alone in the world then usually those people who try and put obstacles and stumbling blocks in your way succeed no matter how much effort you put forth.

The idea that all it takes is hard work to succeed is patent bullshit.

The McDonald’s worker and the janitor work far harder than the currency speculator but the currency speculator can make more in an hour than they can in a lifetime. And then the working poor are blamed for their condition.

When I met Emily I was at a career and life low point.

I found myself isolated and stifled and I was close to losing all hope in the world. I had all the faith in myself in the world and the belief I could achieve whatever goal I put my mind to but I was still blocked unfairly through the negativity of others.

I can still remember it like it was yesterday.

I was sitting in the local coffee shop reading a book when she walked in and walked up to me.

“So what is a Benazir Bhutto?” she asked.

“She was a Pakistani political leader who fought to modernize her country and improve the status of women in her country who was assassinated before she could fulfill her potential,” I replied.

“Interesting topic for a book but not what I see people read in here. Usually they’ll be reading poetry, or something about John Lennon, or other hippie indie rock bullshit.”

“Well I’ve always read about the great men and women of history because I’ve always wanted to achieve greatness for myself and have my place in the annals of posterity but so far my life is not turning out that way.”

And so began our first conversation.

We sat and talked for an hour and then I had to go.

I figured I’d never meet her again but it wasn’t a week later when I ran into her grocery shopping.

We chatted for a bit and I got a glance of her feet in those high heels she was wearing but quickly looked away hoping she didn’t notice. Of course we soon departed each other and I went on about my business.

We had several chance meetings and over time became acquaintances and even began to develop a bit of a friendship.

It soon go to the point where Emily and I would have lunch once a week or so.

My career was still going nowhere and I complained about that constantly, and about the unfairness I had suffered, while talking about my goals. She’d roll her eyes whenever I did and preferred talking intellectual subjects with me.

Finally a day came when she called me up.

“So Adrian, what are you doing today?”

“Well not much. I figured I was going to go out to the range and practice a bit, hunting season will be starting soon and I’d like to get a 20 point this season.”

“Well, think you can spare some time for me? I think you’d have more confidence if you were dressed better so I want to take you shopping and buy you a suit. Would you be willing to put off becoming a better shot for a day for that?”

“I guess I can.”

“Great!”

She picked me up from the house and took me to the mall and we began looking at suits and other things. She bought me a new wardrobe and even took me to a pawn shop and bought me a used Bulova. She ran her own office and made a six figure income, which was very impressive for her age, and so she could afford it but I still felt a bit bad about her buying me all of this and not being able to return it.

Throughout the day try as I might to avoid it I had glanced many glances of her feet erzurum escort which were just so pretty and several times after coming out of the changing rooms when she complimented me on how good I looked it started to make a rising occur down there.

After we finished shopping she took me out to dinner at a fine restaurant and asked for a private room.

While we waited on dinner she began speaking to me.

“Adrian…”

“Yes Emily?”

“I noticed today that you were staring at my feet often and I’ve seen this from you several times.”

Good God, she had noticed.

But why was she bringing this up after spending so much money on me?

“You’ve done this even when you talk to me. Now I am used to guys constantly staring at my breasts and having to tell them to look up at my eyes but this… I mean what’s this about Adrian? Why stare at my feet? Do you just have a problem making eye contact with me or something?”

I knew I was about to lose a friend. She’d probably even take back the suit and even stick me with the bill for this meal. I decided to go ahead and tell her the truth.

And I told her everything. I told her about my foot fetish. I told her about my desire to be dominated by a woman who I could trust to guide and protect me. I told her about everything. I also told her that part of my problem had been I’m not one of these people who lack self-respect who is a doormat and I told her how this had always made me uncomfortable and tormented me and that it had been an impediment to me ever trying to form a serious romantic relationship.

I bared my soul to Emily and had never felt lower in my life.

I couldn’t tell what Emily was thinking but then she started to speak.

“Adrian, I want you to know that what you just did was very brave. Very few men would have courage like that. What you just did took far more strength then all these macho douchebags who can powerlift 700 lbs with one hand. Most of them wouldn’t have the security in their own masculinity to tell me what you just did.”

“So you’re not creeped out? You don’t think it is weird?”

“Adrian it’s as weird as can be but see I’m just like you so I understand.”

What?

Just like me?

What did she mean?

“Adrian, since I was a teenager there I’ve known that dominating a man turns me on. The problem is so many men I’ve met who are into being dominated often lack self-respect, are often doormats, and those that aren’t are usually married and pay a professional and hide it from their wives rather than having the courage to tell them and make it part of the relationship to make them stronger…” She started.

“But you Adrian, you have ambition, you have drive, you have goals, and dreams. You had the courage to tell me this but you also told me the things you won’t do. That you have limits. You are the kind of man I always wished I could have submit to me. It would turn me on to dominate you. I noticed you staring at my feet the first time we met and kept a note of each glance. I’ve found that men who have foot fetishes are often into submitting to women so I asked you that to test you. You gave me the answer I was hoping to hear so I have a proposal to make to you.”

“What is that Emily?”

“Adrian, you are such a charismatic and energetic personality but you have let life get you down and I can tell keeping this secret part of yourself hidden from the world has only made it worse and has only hurt your confidence. It’s no fun to dominate a worm. I want to dominate a force. A power. Someone who is my equal mentally, spiritually, professionally, and socially and who perhaps is even on a higher level because dominating someone greater than you is the ultimate expression of dominance and sexual power. What fun is it to dominate someone who is a lowly slave? It is much more satisfying to have power over an equal. My ideal husband since I was a little girl was a man who’d conquer the world in the day but would come home to be at my service, to be bound by me, to ache for me, to conquer the world for me, but who’d still have the self-respect that if we had kids and found out one of them wasn’t his would divorce me on the spot and not accept the abuse or disrespect.”

“Emily?” I asked, sort of bewildered by her monologue.

“Adrian, you might just be what I’m looking for. We get along as friends. Since we’ve met I’ve begun reading a little history too and I have a little experiment to try tonight. I want you to submit to me Adrian and I’m ready to make a deal with you.”

“A deal?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of deal?”

“I have the connections to help you get to where you want to go and if we were to get into a relationship and it went as far as it could go then of course we’d be a power couple with me having the ultimate power because while you were king to the outside world at home I’d be the Queen. So here is my deal. Be my little sub buddy for the next few months and we’ll have a lot of fun and while you are submitting to me I’ll help you in your career and as long eskişehir escort as you submit to me I’ll be in your corner. I can take you places you need to go and want to go, both in life and spiritually. You need my dominance Adrian. You need my guiding hand. I won’t hurt you. There may be a little pain from time to time but I want you to enjoy this too. So will you give me a try? Will you submit to me? You want to be a king in life. Will you give me a try at being your Queen?”

“Yes Emily, I’ll submit to you.”

A smile came across her face.

“Ok Adrian, be a good king and get under the table, take off my shoe, and start kissing my foot to show your submission to your Queen.”

I complied. Fortunately there was a tablecloth that flowed off the table so the wait staff couldn’t see me but I heard the door open as he brought in our food. I took off my ring, got up from under the table and sat back in my seat.

“My ring fell under the table and I had to find it,” I said, trying to provide cover for being under the table.

The waiter just shrugged it off and we began eating and talking.

“Adrian…”

“Yes Emily?”

“It’s time for you to submit to your Queen again.”

“I can’t use the ring excuse again.”

“No you don’t have to kiss my feet again. Right now. But how pretty are my feet?”

“Very pretty.”

“And they turn you on?”

“Yes.”

“Say yes my Queen for the rest of the time we are at this restaurant.”

“Yes my Queen.”

“Would you like to eat off of them, my king?”

“I would love to, my Queen.”

“Well we’ve already eaten but I have an idea.”

“What is it, my Queen?”

“You’ll see.”

The waiter came back in.

Emily told him to draw the shades to the room, as this restaurant was famous for its private rooms that had blinds and gave him a tip and told him not to bring us two bottles of champagne and not disturb us for the next 30 minutes after which she’d pay the bill and to add three of the restaurants custom cloths that they sell to customers to the bill and bring them in.

He came back with the two bottles of champagne and the cloths and left and drew the shades and put the do not disturb sign on the door. This restaurant often hosts dignitaries who conduct important business and this perk has led it to being one of the most sought after restaurants in town for the city’s elite.

We wouldn’t be disturbed for the time she said and perhaps a bit longer.

Emily then got to work.

She took off her shoe and took her stocking off of her foot.

“You have no need for words right now Adrian. Your Queen knows what’s best for you.”

With that she stuffed the stocking in my mouth. She tied it in with a restaurant cloth.

She took another cloth and tied my hands behind my back.

She then took her high heel and place it over my nose.

“Breathe in, Adrian. Breathe it in. Let it hypnotize you. You’re safe now. Let your Queen guide you.”

“Would you still like to eat off my feet? Nod if the answer is yes and shake your head if the answer is no.”

I nodded.

“Well we’ve got privacy for only a little while and if they brought in food I’d have to untie you but I have an idea.”

With that she got up and picked up one of the bottles of champagne and brought it over to me.

“Have you liked the taste of my stockings?”

I nodded.

“You think I taste good?”

I nodded.

“Do you like the taste of champagne?”

I nodded.

“Well today is your lucky day my king.”

With that she took out the cloth and took off the stocking but didn’t put it back on her foot. I assumed she was waiting on it to dry a bit though it hadn’t been in my mouth long.

“Want to know why it is your lucky day?”

“Yes, my Queen” I replied, already missing the gag a bit.

“Well first my king I want you to ask me a question.”

“What kind of question, my Queen?”

“Remember that Fergie song “Humps?”

I did and I’ve never really liked that song because I thought I was kind of stupid but I was wondering where this was going.

“Yes My Queen.”

“You remember how the chorus goes?”

“Yes my Queen?”

“I want you to ask me what I’m going to do with all that junk, the way the song says.”

“I’m confused my Queen.”

“Just do it. Of course if you don’t want to submit to me we can forget about our deal right now.”

I wasn’t about to let that happen.

This girl was hot, she was dominating me, and she had told me that she’d help me professionally as part of dominating me. This was a dream come true and I was not going to ruin it. And after all we were in a private room in one of the most exclusive restaurants in town where privacy was respected, a restaurant I never would have been able to eat at if I wasn’t her guest. And so I overcame all embarrassment and started singing.

“What you gonna do, what you gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk?” I sang, trying to hide my gaziantep escort embarrassment.

“I’ma get get get get you drunk, get you drunk, love off my humps,” she responded.

“Do I have to continue, My Queen?”

“Don’t you want to know what my humps are?”

“What are your humps, My Queen?”

“Look at my feet oh king. Look at how the arch is shaped. Isn’t it a bit hump like?”

“I guess it is. But I thought that song was talking about something else, My Queen. The whole junk in the trunk thing and all.”

“Well for the purposes of right here, right now my humps are in my feet and do you know what I’m going to do with them?”

“What my Queen?”

“I’ma get get get get you drunk, get you drunk, drunk off my humps. You said you loved my taste and you love the taste of champagne, now you get to have both at the same time.”

With that she poured champagne into her high heel and brought it up to my mouth and began tipping it in so I could start drinking. In less than five minutes I had both bottles finished.

“Ok my king, you did a good job. I’m going to untie you now and call them back in early. We’ll have a regular dessert while we wait for the champagne to kick in. Then we’ll go. The night is just getting started.”

She untied me, called the waiter back in, and we had dessert, a really wonderful French pastry.

She then paid the check and we back out to her car. The champagne was starting to kick in.

“I know I told you to call me my Queen while we were at the restaurant but I want you to keep doing so now that were done, understand Adrian?

“Yes my Queen.”

“Didn’t you ever wonder why I bought several cloths seeing as I only gagged you with one in there, oh wise king?”

“It never crossed my mind, my Queen.”

“Well, you’ll find out soon. First we’ve got to run to the pet store real quick and then I have one more errand to run.”

The hell, I thought but she was my way home and I was really feeling drunk now.

We rode out to the pet store. She told me to wait inside and came back out with a large bed and brought it to the back of her crossover. She folded down the back seats into the cargo area and put the bed down.

“Now you’ll find out why I bought multiple cloths. First I want you to lay on that bed.”

I complied.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

I complied.

I felt her start tying them again though it wasn’t with stockings but felt sticky like tape. She soon tied my legs again as well.

“You are my king, and I am your Queen, but while you submit to me you are also my pet and I take care of you but sometimes pets need to be quiet.”

With that she took out a muzzle and gagged me with it.

“And now for the finishing touches oh king Adrian.”

She took the cloth and tied it over my eyes blindfolding me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and couldn’t see. She really was dominating me and it was so hot. I wondered if I should be trusting her like this but I was so caught up in the pleasure of the moment.

“I had to blindfold you. I don’t want you to see the rest of your surprise. I bought the bed because I thought it would be uncomfortable to you to have your hands tied behind your back while sitting in the seat. I could have gagged you with something else but the muzzle was just a bonus my pet.”

With that she stroked my face softly with a bit of a loving touch, got in the front seat and started driving.

She ran her last errand and then we went back to her place.

She went in for a little bit and then came back out and took off the blindfold, untied me, and mercifully took off the muzzle.

She had changed. She had dressed into a costume that reminded me of how Ancient Egyptian women always look in the movies.

“Come inside my king.”

I complied.

“I want you to go in the bedroom and put on the costume I bought for you.”

I went in the bedroom and saw a toga and a wreathe and it looked like an Ancient Rome costume.

I came back in the living room.

“So my Queen, why are you dressed up like that and why did you want me to put this on?”

“Because we’re going to play a game. I’m the Queen and you’re the king I conquer. You don’t have to say my Queen after everything I say for the rest of the night unless I ask you to again.”

“Ok.”

“See in talking to you and you talking to me about history I realize some of the most powerful men throughout history have submitted to dominant woman. Like the Roman Emperor Justinian and his consort Theodora. Theodora was clearly dominant and he ruled the world but she ruled him and it worked for both of them.”

“So if we’re playing Justinian and Theodora then why are you dressed in what looks like an Egyptian outfit. Theodora wasn’t an Egyptian.”

“No she wasn’t. She also wasn’t born a Queen. She was Queen over Justinian but he made her Queen. They were equals but she owed her status to him. But Julius Caesar was the most powerful man in the world and he was submissive sexually and I think unlike his critics claim he was submissive to women. He shaved his body hair. That’s something women ask for. Cleopatra dominated him as a Queen who was born into it.”

“But Caesar wasn’t a king.”

“No but he was killed because his enemies thought he wanted to be and his name has been used by kings as the title of their office for 2,000 years and he certainly ruled like a king.”

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The room was silent, except for the ticking of the clock and the hard-soled shoes on the hard word floor. The constant tick, tick, tick, was maddening in her ears as she lay tied and blindfolded to the huge four poster bed. The silk scarf around her eyes was soft as it caressed her skin and was tied delicately off to the side so the knot would not be uncomfortable on the back of her head. Her hands were outstretched, shackled to each side of the bed by handcuffs that allowed her some movement, just enough movement to remind her that she was unable to use her hands. Her legs were pulled above her head and spread open wide, bound meticulously by soft rope to the head board. She was completely exposed; completely vulnerable.

Joe paced back and forth across the floor. His shoes clicked on the floor as he walked. Occasionally, he would stop and look at her. He had taken his time in binding her. Making sure she was both bound, yet available to do his bidding. He had chosen not to gag her. He wanted to hear her excitement at the surprise he had in store for her. He knew she was nervous, but the more he bound her, the more he could smell her sex permeate the room. His eyes raked over her once again. Her smooth womanhood so inviting, so soft. He could see it glistening, letting him know that she enjoyed the ropes and cuffs that were firmly in place. Her sweet bud on her delicious ass was exposed. He loved that ass. He wanted to take her right then and there, but he knew he couldn’t. It would spoil what he had in store for her.

The time neared. He bent close to her, whispering in her ear, “Be still and you shall please me greatly. You shall make me proud to call you my submissive. Disobey, and your punishment shall be swift and severe.”

She tensed then relaxed at his words. She knew his punishments could be harsh, but it never matched how she felt inside from the pain she derived from not pleasing him completely.

A knock came at the door. They both jumped. He turned to answer the knocking, her body became immediately rigid. The realization in her mind became immediately clear. He was having a guest or guests, and she was to be the main attraction. They had talked about this before. He had asked her how she felt about being used by another. She told him honestly that she did not know; that the thought both excited and scared her. The discussion had been brief, almost a conversation that is quickly dismissed as idle chit chat. Now, he had brought someone else inside of their world. She could feel her body becoming more and more tense as he introduced this man to her.

Her Master’s words stung in her ears as she listened to him speak. “Pet, this is Jeffrey. Jeffrey will be using you this evening as I watch. He works with me at the office and we have discussed you in detail, and he has requested to use you. Since you are my possession, I have given him permission to do so. He and I have discussed my limits concerning you. He will not hurt you in any way, of that you can be assured. Of course, a slight amount of pain is expected, and I have granted him permission to be rough, but not abusive. Other than that, you are his to use as he desires.”

His words stung her ears. He discussed her? He discussed her with coworkers? She was instantly furious at him for telling intimate details of their relationship. But, wasn’t this what she wanted? Wasn’t this the reason she wanted to be under his control? She was confused. So confused. She had wanted him to take control of her, they had discussed her limits and his. She had never once mentioned tekirdağ escort to him that talking about her to others was off limits. She didn’t know she should have; and now, here she was, completely naked, both physically and emotionally in front of a stranger.

Her mind whirled. How could he have done such a thing to her? He was treating her as a toy he could lend out at his whim. She was a person, she was……..his submissive. At that instant, the aroma of her own sex drifted to her nostrils. She was excited. She was very excited. The sensation of being used by another at her Master’s whim was more intoxicating than she had realized, more than she had been willing to admit.

She laid on the bed, waiting for his commands. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Make me proud my pet, make me proud that I own you.”

Yes, he did own her. She loved being owned. She loved being under his direction. She was just beginning to realize how much.

Her Master spoke to Jeffrey. “Jeffrey, she is ready to be used. She is bound as all proper sluts should be.”

Her body tensed. She felt, without seeing, Jeffrey’s eyes boring into her. She felt him looking at her completely exposed. Her mind was screaming out to stop this madness, but she knew she didn’t want it to stop. She knew that she wanted this, maybe even more than her Master wanted it.

Jeffrey touched her face. She was surprised. It was a tender touch, not harsh as she had anticipated. His touch was almost loving, adoring. His had slide from her cheek to her jaw, then trailed lightly down her neck. His fingertips barely touched her as they traveled down her chest. She could feel her nipples becoming increasingly aroused. Her nipples becoming taunt and hard. His fingers touched her nipples briefly as he slid them down to her stomach then between her wide spread legs. She was embarrassed as his fingers slid between her slit and became wet with her desire. He knew she was excited by his touch, he knew that at anytime he wanted to take her, she would be ready.

Jeffrey voice seemed to come out of no where. “Joe,” he said, “your slut is a more than eager whore, how well you have trained her.”

His words echoed in her head, thankful that he did not know this was her first time to be used by another, thankful that Joe hand not shared her innocence with him. Jeffrey was right though, she was ready. Her juices where dripping from inside of her and making the lips of her smooth, shaved pussy glisten. The throbbing inside of her was growing increasingly strong. She began to worry. What if she came and he had not even touched her? She would bring humiliation to her Master, and to herself. She shivered at the thought.

Her Master’s scent drifted into her nose, exciting her senses. He was laying beside her. She could feel his nearness and was not surprised when she heard his voice whisper in her ear. “My pet, I want to hear the pleasure he brings you. I want to be able to partake of your excitement by your sounds, your voice. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.” She was barely able to get the words to form on her lips and escape her mouth. Her excited was growing. Increasing to an intensity that she would not soon forget. She felt, for the first time, that she was truly in sub space. That part of your mind, that lets you know who you are, and who you belong to.

Her Master moved away, his cologne becoming more subtle as he moved away; replaced quickly by Jeffrey’s strong musk scent. She could feel his tokat escort thighs on her ass that was exposed so completely. She trembled as she felt the first touch of his cock running up and down the length of her open slit. Both his hands were on her breasts, squeezing gently, lovingly caressing them. His hands slid over her nipples and caught them between his index and middle fingers. His fingers closed tightly around her nipples as be leaned forward and sucked the right bud through his fingers and then closed his fingers tighter around the nipple. He turned to the left bud and repeated his sucking, bringing her nipples to full attention. Her back involuntarily arched up to his mouth, offering her breasts to him. She could hear him chuckle seductively as he bent down and sucked more on them. Making them red and sore in his mouth. She moaned and her back arched up more.

Somewhere, to the left of her, she heard her Master’s familiar groan. The groan that escaped from deep within him when he was excited. She moaned louder. This time not from Jeffrey’s touch, but from the pleasure her Master was deriving from her and her obedience.

Jeffrey’s fingers released her nipples. She moaned as she felt the familiar sting from the blood rushing back into them. The same sting she felt when her Master released her nipple clamps. He both began to squirm under him as his fingers slid between her lips and plunged deep inside her pussy. His fingers, two of them, exploring her from the inside; searching as if for a treasure. She lifted her hips up as much as she could against the restraints when his fingers grazed across the hard nub inside of her. Her moan was filled with ecstasy, much more than she wanted to show.

Again, she heard her Master moan with desire. She responded with a deep moan from within her and her juices began to flow even more freely.

Jeffrey’s voice was playful as he spoke to her Master. “It would appear that your mere presence and moans excites her more than my touch.”

She heard her Master laugh, but she could tell that he was pleased, very pleased at her responses to his voice. She moaned.

“Well, we shall see who makes you cum you little bitch,” Jeffrey bellowed as his fingers withdrew quickly from her pussy and his cock slammed deep inside of her.

Her hips lifted immediately to meet his as he plunged deep inside of her. Her hands pulled hard against the restraints. She moaned and began to writhe under him. His cock withdrew and penetrated again, hitting her deep and bending the head of his cock into her.

“Oh God!” she screamed over and over as his cock slammed deep inside of her. His hand tapped at her clit and then rubbed it.

She could hear her Master’s breathing becoming more rapid. Her mind was focused on him, and Jeffrey’s cock being buried deep with in her. Jeffrey’s movements became faster as his finger flew over her clit. He whole body was trembling as Jeffrey took his other hand and began to pinch her nipples and pull them towards him.

“Come on bitch, cum for Jeffrey.” Jeffrey’s words were taunting her. He adjusted his cock so that it rubbed her hard nub inside and her hard clit outside, alternately gliding across them.

“Oh please, oh god,” were the only words that escaped her lips as her breathing became jagged. Her hands pulled at the cuffs, almost tearing into her flesh as she tried desperately to loose herself from them.

“May I cum Master, please, may I cum?” Her voice was loud, desperate. Jeffrey pulled out trabzon escort of her as she began begging her Master.

“You will cum for me, you little slut.” Jeffrey’s voice stormed in her ears. “You will cum because I make you cum.”

She heard her Master moan louder as his breathing changed. The excitement in his moaning heightened her senses as her Master spoke to her, calmly and gently, “Not yet my pet.”

She groaned.

Jeffrey placed his hard, throbbing cock at the opening of her ass and pressed. He grabbed her nipples roughly and pulled them as he slid his cock inside of her. She pulled hard on her cuffs as his cock pierced her ass.

“Oh God!” she screamed as he began to make slow strokes inside of her. She could feel his cock swelling as he used her breasts to push and pull himself in and out of her. His fingers released her nipples and his hands cupped her breasts as he began to move faster and faster inside of her. As his strokes began to move more freely his hand dropped to her clit and he pressed it against her and made circles with it.

“Please Master, please may I cum.” she begged over and over to him. She could feel Jeffrey’s cock swelling. She could hear his moans. He was groaning loudly, yet she could still hear her Master’s soft moans, even over Jeffrey’s.

Jeffrey’s thrusts came in short bursts as his desire over took him and he released his passion deep inside of her. His finger still circling her clit.

“Yes my pet, yes you may cum now,” her Master’s voice thundered in her ear. She felt her pussy throb and her legs begin to quiver as her orgasm overtook her. Her hips began to thrust forward, jerking as she came, feeling her juices ooze out and down between the crack of her ass.

“Thank you Master. Thank you for letting me cum Sir,” she spoke the words just as he had taught her.

Jeffrey’s movements slowed just as she felt a splash of warm cum hit her face, landing on her nose and mouth. She opened her mouth hungrily as she realized that her Master had come to pleasure by her excitement. His hot cum splashed across her face again, some landing inside of her mouth and some on her chin and neck. He spurted over and over and all that landed in or around her mouth she drank hungrily.

Jeffrey withdrew from her as her Master gently touched her face, scrapping his cum with his finger and placing it in her mouth. She sucked his finger sensuously as he fed her. She smiled as he withdrew his finger from her mouth.

“Jeff? I believe you owe me 100 bucks. She came for me, just like I said she would, and I didn’t even have to touch her.” Her Master’s voice was strong and friendly.

“Yes she did,” said Jeff, “you have trained her very well.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out five 20 dollar bills and handed them to Joe. Jeff smile as he spoke to Joe. “But she was a 100 bucks well spent.”

She tensed again as she heard them speaking of their bet. She was immediately angered. How could he have done such a thing to her, to reduce her to property and make a little money off the venture? Tears began to flow silently under her blindfold, but she spoke not a word.

She heard the door open and close before her Master came and laid beside her. “You have pleased me well my pet, I am very proud to call you my submissive.”

She did not speak as he untied the ropes and unlocked the handcuffs. She stretched out her legs and rubbed her wrists as he slowly untied her blindfold. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw Joe holding up a long piece of black leather with small diamonds embedded into the leather. She blinked twice before realizing it was a collar. A collar for her. The tears began to stream down her face as he fastened it with a click around her neck.

“I want the world to know you are mine, that I own you.” Her Master spoke with confidence before adding, almost silently, “…and you own me.”

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The crowd silently watches you. Butterflies flap their wings wildly in your stomach and your skin feels warm. You’re nervous. You’re trembling. And yet, you’re also excited. Although you don’t know what’s about to happen, you know that it signifies your ascension from a trainee to a full-fledged servus.

A man walks out onto the stage and stands in front of you. He removes your black cloak, the symbol of your trainee status. You now stand in the center of the amphitheater completely naked. Your nipples harden in the cool breeze. The man turns to face the crowd, your black cloak raised in one of his hands. “Naked does she present herself,” he bellows.

“Naked does she present herself,” the crowd echoes back. The man turns to face you again, tossing the cloak aside. He places a hand on your shoulder and pushes you down to your knees. “On her knees does she offer herself!”

Again, the crowd echoes him. The man walks behind you and parts your legs. You feel cold metal shackles clasp around your ankles. He steps in front of you, a pillory designed for your head and wrists in hand. The intimidating wooden contraption is affixed to you in a matter of seconds. He pushes your torso down so that your face is only a few inches from the stage floor and your rear is up in the air. “In bondage does she find her freedom!”

“In bondage does she find her freedom!”

The man disappears behind you once again. “The girl now exists on the cusp of ascension. She will now recite the creed with pleasure whilst receiving the painful kiss of the whip, for pleasure and pain dance together in aeternum.”

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Sure, you have been whipped before, but never in front of so many people. Never in ceremony. You feel so exposed. Your skin is so sensitive to everything around it. Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest. But you’re determined to do this – to do this correctly, and reach that higher place for yourself.

“Begin,” the man bellows. You open your mouth to speak, but the whip comes down on your arse with almost cruel force. A pained yelp bursts from your lips and echoes around you. You grit your teeth. “He is Master, I am slave,” you begin. The whip comes down again and you bite into your lip şişli escort to hold back a scream. “He is owner,” another lash causes you to cry out. “I-I am owned.” The whip comes down three more times. Tears are now streaming from your eyes. Your breathing is shaky, erratic. “H-H-His…will…is everything.” Another three lashes. Another agonized cry from your lips. “Mine…is…nothing…” You can barely breathe. You inhale deeply and another crack of the whip knocks the wind out of you. Quickly, you manage to catch your breath. “He is t-to be pleased and I-I a-am to please.” The man starts swinging the whip at your ass with wild abandon, not giving you a second to think of anything but the pain. “Why is this!?” You grit your teeth in and steel yourself. The pain is cruel, more intense than any beating you had received before it. “FOR I AM A SLAVE!”

The man stops. You sob uncontrollably. Your arse feels like it has been lit on fire and the heat and anguish radiates throughout your body. However, you also feel an intense sense of pride. You are immensely proud of yourself for enduring it, for managing to get the words of your creed out while under the whip.

“She will now be cleaned. Her old self will be washed away and her new self will emerge,” the man bellows. Two women come to kneel on either side of you. They gently wash you in rose-scented water, cleaning your face and body with deft hands. “You did well,” one of them whispers softly to you. “The hard part is over now.” After they clean and dry you, they apply oil to your body. They massage a generous amount on your rear. You bite your lip as they touch the stinging flesh, but you know that it is necessary to prevent scarring.

Once they have completed their work, the two women leave you. “Now she will be used. The Magnificum Dominum will now do with her what they please. In servitude will she experience pleasure.”

“In servitude will she experience pleasure!” The crowd cheers loudly. They must be proud of you as well by the sound of it. Despite yourself, you smile.

Two men come out. They are wearing golden masks and red cloaks that denote their position. One of them kneels in front of you, his manhood already tuzla escort hard and throbbing and glistening with precum. Without waiting for any sort of direction, you open your mouth wide. He pushes his member into your mouth and places one hand on your head. There is a slightly salty taste to him, but you don’t mind it at all. Slowly, he begins thrusting into your mouth. Though he is being quite gentle, you know it isn’t for your benefit. This must simply be how he likes to do it.

The second man disappears behind you. You feel his cock run over the lips of your sex a few times before he pushes it in, completely filling you in one stroke. You moan around the man in your mouth. You’re now being penetrated and fucked from both ends. Both men seem to match pace with each other, so that when one pulls back the other pushes in.

You can hear the crowd. Moans and groans echo throughout the amphitheater. Are they having sex as well? They must be. The atmosphere exudes sex. You imagine all those people, turned on by watching you, now in all manner of positions, sating their desires. The thought of it arouses you even more.

The man in front of you picks up his pace. He now thrusts aggressively into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag a bit. Suddenly, he buries himself in your throat and stays there. You can’t breath. Something inside of you tells you to struggle, but you remain perfectly still. You are there to be used, not to deny him what he desires. He pulls back for a moment, allowing you to catch your breath before thrusting back in to repeat the process.

The man behind you fucks you harder. You can feel him quickly thrusting in and out of the hot, wet folds of your pussy. His fingers dig into your ass. It hurts, but the pain is nothing in comparison to the intense pleasure you feel. In your mind’s eye, you can almost see his hardness moving in and out of you. Stretching you. Filling you. Using you.

Before long the two men switch places. You moan when you taste your juices on the man’s cock. He groans loudly as he fucks your mouth. Is he close? You work your tongue as he pistons in and out of your orifice, trying to coax his seed out of pendik escort him.

And you succeed. In a matter of minutes, he begins to flood your mouth with his cum, his cock throbbing violently. It’s salty, and even slightly bitter, but you lick every drop of it from the head of his cock. He pulls out, stands, and disappears behind you.

You can now see the crowd. Just like you thought, everybody is having sex. There are men receiving blowjobs from women, men receiving blowjobs from men, women being eaten out by men, and women being eaten out by women. There are men fucking both genders and men being fucked by both. Every sexual pairing you can think of is now displayed in front of you, fucking each other.

“You may cum when you wish,” the man behind you says, never breaking his stroke.

“Yes, Sir,” you reply. “Thank you, Sir.”

He fucks you hard, pounding into your cunt with all the force he can muster. You close your eyes. The sounds of sex bombard your ears as it echoes loudly in the amphitheater. The scent of sex wafts throughout the air. The taste of cum still fills your mouth. And the feeling of being fucked, aggressively and roughly fucked, causes shockwaves to emanate throughout your body.

Before long, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. Your pussy convulses on the man’s member. You bite your lip to keep from screaming. Your body trembles. It never subsides fully. Every time the man thrusts into you, a little tremor goes through your body. The Dominus doesn’t last much longer. Soon after your orgasm, his cock throbs violently in your sex as he fills it with his seed. He stays buried within you until he is finished. Then, he leaves.

The man in the leather mask unshackles your feet. He removes the pillory. Gently, he helps you to your feet. Your legs are shaky and you’re unsure that you could stand without his help. “She will now be dressed in the garb befitting a servus!” Everybody was still engaged in their own sexual activities, but you see a few faces turn towards you.

The two women from before come out. They put silver bracelets on your wrists and a matching set of anklets on your ankles. “These signify her bondage, and her freedom,” the man yells. The two women then put you in a sheer white dress that barely covers your rear and leaves nothing to the imagination. “This dress signifies that she is forever exposed to her Master, no matter what covers her body!” Then, they clasp a leather collar around your neck. “And the collar signifies her station! From this day, until your last day, you are a servus, a slave!”

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Kathy had a perfect little life. She had plenty of money. She had no worries and no cares. Everything in her life was going along perfectly.

To look at all that she had materialistically, anyone would envy her lifestyle. The house, the cars, the trips, the clothes, and the jewelry, she had it all. Fortune without fame and flying beneath the radar is always better in life than showing off and bragging about what you have. It’s best not to draw attention to yourself, especially when you’ve had a colorful past. Let’s just say, should her husband decide to run for political office one day, with so many of her skeletons ready to burst out of her closet, he wouldn’t have a prayer of being elected with her by his side. The tabloid press would dig up enough information about her and nude photos of her during her wild and crazy college and socialite party days that their lives would be forever ruined.

Fortunately, for her, her husband harbored no such political aspirations. The only aspirations he harbored were collecting as many of those small, green pieces of paper that had Benjamin Franklin’s photo on them. His God was money and he worshiped it. He worked as an investment banker and recently, a few years ago, had become a partner in the firm. They lived in a perfect house right on the 9th hole of the golf course of an exclusive country club.

When the banks did well and the economy boomed, he made money. When the banks failed and the economy busted, he made money. With his money needle pegged to global financial markets and growing economics, instead of national political agendas, no matter what happened, he made money with his investments around the world.

A bad day for Kathy was when she forgot to wear her pearls to lunch with the girls. Big, expensive, and just perfect, she loved her exquisite pearls. They were her gift from her husband when he made partner. If she had to pick just one item of jewelry to save in a fire, that one item would be her exclusive pearls.

Married for twenty-five years last June, she had a 23-year-old daughter, named Mandy, and a 21-year-old son, named Randy. Kathy just turned 45-years-old and was at the pivotal point in her life where she was considering having some cosmetic surgery done to freshen her look and give her a more youthful appearance. Pressured by her friends, who already had the surgery, she didn’t want a surgeon taking a knife to her face, no matter how skilled he was. Having known many woman, who have had a facelift, she can always recognized someone who has had the surgery done.

Accustomed to her beauty preceding herself to help open doors and to make her the center of attention, with her imagined sudden lack of interest from the opposite sex, especially from those men younger than her, she was just beginning to feel her age. In her uncharacteristic lowered self-esteem and wounded self-confidence, maltepe escort even though she thought differently about herself, whenever men young and old saw her, she was thought of differently by others that the opinion that she had of herself. Whenever she walked in a room, she was still a head turner and a conversation interrupter.

Only, when she looked in the mirror now, she imagined what she’d look like in ten years or in twenty years. She was beginning to look how she remembered her mother looked, when her mother was her age now. It was a frightful horror because, at the same time, she remembered what she looked like ten and twenty years ago. As was everyone and everything else on Earth, yet so much more difficult for a woman, she was getting older and every time she peered in the mirror, she imagined she saw new wrinkles and new sags.

Even though aging was inevitable, especially when her mind felt so much younger, she needed time for her brain to catch up with her body. Even though she looked middle aged, she still felt so young. She felt no different now that she was in her forties than she did, when she was in her twenties. Certainly, she didn’t feel 45-years-old and she still possessed much of the vibrant energy and vitality that she had in her twenties, especially when on the golf course or the tennis court. She had yet to slow down and adjust to a more sedentary life. A wakeup call to how much better she looked than most women her age, women who didn’t have the time or the money to pamper themselves with designer clothes, hair, makeup, creams, lotions, and spas, she needed a minor adjustment in her perception of her age and how others perceived her. She needed a reality check.

Her only consolation was that she was aging with the rest of her peer group. Only, sometimes, whenever she was down on herself and in a funk, unbeknownst to her, she was aging better than the rest of them. Certainly, even without having plastic surgery, a non-smoker who exercised regularly and who watched her diet, seldom drank, and took care to wear sunscreen. when out in the sun, she looked ten years younger than her age and much younger than all of her friends her age and younger even.

Nonetheless, feeling sad that life was passing her by, while she sheltered herself in her little cocoon of luxury, where did the time go? Twenty years rushed by with the blink of an eye. As if it were yesterday, she still remembered being newly married. It wasn’t that long ago that she was walking her children in a stroller, chauffeuring them back and forth to grade school, and attending high school and college graduations. It wasn’t that long ago that her husband made his first million dollars, moved them from upstate New York, where she was from and where she met him, to this lovely closed community and exclusive gated estate manavgat escort in northeastern Massachusetts. She couldn’t believe that was more than a dozen years ago.

She remembered that she looked good, real good, ten years ago. She wished she could have always stayed thirty-five forever. She loved that age. She was old enough not to be bothered with all the immature bullshit, but not too old that she still couldn’t enjoy all the immature bullshit.

Some of her friends have already been under the knife and she envied the results, but cringed at the pain, the bruising, the swelling, and the forced isolation, while they heeled. Was it all worth it? She didn’t think so, at least, not for her it wasn’t. Blessed with good genes, she was glad that she didn’t have to do all that to still look young and attractive. For the time being, she was content with her skills at applying her makeup. Maybe in a few years, she’d reconsider. Maybe in a few years, going the way of Heidi Klum and so many other celebrities, who weren’t vain enough to have surgery and Botox unnaturally alter their looks, maybe she just wouldn’t care.

She felt that plastic surgery was a vicious cycle that had to be repeated in five to ten years, too. Always, there was the risk that something could tragically go wrong. Always there was a chance that they could make a life altering or fatal mistake on the operating table. Reluctantly, she decided, she’d rather age gracefully without having a surgeon pull, nip, and tuck her skin beneath her hairline and back behind her ears. How dreadful to have her face pulled so tight that it hurt to smile. How embarrassing to know that everyone knows that she was vain enough to have plastic surgery.

Still, she had to give her brave, albeit vain friends credit. They looked ten years younger. They looked rested. They looked happy. Only, she was nervous. She had heard some of the horror stories of botched surgeries and she was vain, but not vain enough to put herself in the hands of a surgeon’s knife. Still, her friends pressured her to go ahead and, at least, have a consultation. She promised she would, but never did.

She was friends with Christine, Ellen, Audrey, and Brenda. They were all members in good standing of their little gang of women, who looked like one another, dressed like one another, thought like one another, and talked like one another. They even had a gang name, The Rich Bitches, and a gang sign, when out on the town shopping, they’d flash their American Express Black cards, the ultimate credit cards that had an unlimited credit line.

They lunched together, shopped together, and talked about their perfect little lives to one another. It was a glorious existence being rich and not having to work at a mundane job all day, while their husbands made money. Able to hire people şişli escort to clean their perfect homes, care for their lush lawns, filter their posh pools, cook their delicious meals, pamper their precious pets, and chauffer them, wherever they needed to go, they were free to indulge themselves at the spa for hair, makeup, massage, and skincare treatments.

Except for the young men she dated in college, once married with all the naked, sexual parties behind her, Kathy never had sex with anyone other man than her 52-year-old husband, Robert. Although, define sex, that is. As was Bill Clinton’s definition of sex, she never had penetration from any man other than her husband, since she’s been married. In Clinton’s case, even though he didn’t believe that an exchange of fluids constituted sex, Kathy did and in all the years of her marriage she has never exchanged fluids with anyone other than her husband. Certainly, there have been episodes of touchy feely, especially when alcohol was involved, but she was careful not to ruin her reputation for the foolishness of a flirtatious fling.

She was a good wife and a good mother. She was Robert’s trophy wife and he was her security blanket. Robert liked how they looked together. An average looking man, short and stout, and looking much like the stereotypical banker and, but for the top hat, he looked a bit like the man that appears on the cover of the Monopoly game. No doubt, he was happy that his money could buy him the affections and loyalty of such a beautiful and charming woman, who looked as good as did Kathy. She appreciated how he kept her in the lifestyle that she had grown to love. In the way that there is someone for everyone, they not only deserved one another but also they were made for one another, the socialite with the rich man.

Often, her husband commented that they looked much better together than did Senator McCain and his wife, Cindy. McCain was his idol, a political measure of the man that gives insight into Robert’s political preference. She, on the other hand, certainly hoped they looked much better together than Senator McCain and his wife, Cindy, as Senator McCain was twenty years older than Robert and Cindy McCain was nearly ten years older than she was. Moreover, she preferred Obama over McCain. She always thought that Michele Obama was always so poised and charming. Still, she understood his preference of an older man with a younger woman, albeit Robert was almost eight years older than she was, whereas John McCain was eighteen years older than his wife.

Remaining forever faithful, until death do you part, she never cheated on him. She never even thought about cheating on him. Although, there was that young tennis pro at the club that she was so smitten with and a new, handsome golf pro, too, who she found interesting enough to flirt with, while having him give her some pointers with her game. Still, she’d never do anything more than masturbate in the bathtub, while imagining them tying her up, spanking her ass, and forcing her to have sex with them. Oh, how this little vixen loved to vex men, while playing the virginal victim. Oh, how this socialite of a woman, so wanted to be bound and disciplined.

To be continued…

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Sheryl knew she needed a way out. Since The Crash, her entire life had fallen apart. She should have left New York after 911-but she was just too attached to her job and the people she worked with. It was all just too hard to believe. First most of Los Angeles had been turned into a rather large crater. Then the refugees had streamed into New York. It was obvious that LA simply wasn’t going to be rebuilt anytime soon-and much of what was left of the US entertainment business was New York based. New York had experienced a boom of sorts–even after many of the H-1b workers had been expelled after the Gulf War disaster. Sheryl had known things were getting strange though when the media had gotten terribly religious in orientation. Still she had her job. Her boss, Gerald, was so wonderful-not that she had gotten to see him all that much–and occasional quickie at the office was most of what he had gotten. The rare and occaisional “real dates” were special to her. He’d made her feel good. Now, the fact that she’d started off wanting a family-and tuzla escort that just wasn’t going to happen on a secretary’s salary in New York gnawed at her-but somehow, Gerald was able to make those worries go away.

That all died with Gerald after The Crash. It was still hard for her be believe that in one day, most of what she had taken for granted had simply evaporated. What had been the United States, was now a patchwork of countries she had never heard of-with strange alliances that defied her belief system. The idea that Muslim insurgents would storm Wall Street-with Confederate air support still struck her as completely bizarre. She still couldn’t believe that these Muslim insurgents had executed Gerald for ‘usury’–and that she had been required to watch his beheading.

Since then, life had gotten rather drab and dreary. Gone were her days in restaurants and theater. Her life consisted now of the kind of housework she most despised-surrounded by other pendik escort women in a “dormitory”. News was scarce and mostly came from “The Ministers” that came to teach their particular brand of Islam. She had to admit though that most of them _were_ rather nice looking young men. What was strange to her was that none of were feminine approaches got much in the way of response from any of ‘The Ministers’.

Carol, an old friend was the first to tell her of the “way out”. At first it seemed too strange to be true. Carol said that there was an alternative to “re-education” that had just been implemented. The choices for destination were rather limited-the Free Republic of Alaska. Apparently, the free Republic of Alaska was shipping good to the Islamic Republic of New York in return for women!

The thought of Alaska made Sheryl cringe. She hated cold weather. She hated the outdoors. Still she hated this re-education camp more. What spurred this on was her rape. There maltepe escort was a rather large matron named Betsie. Betsie caught Sheryl alone in the dormitory bedroom on morning.

“Okay white bitch watcha doin sleepin late” “I’m sorry ma’am, I didn’t mean to”

Well, you’ll get to play toll for this lady” With that, Bestie lifted up her skirt and pinned Sheryls face. The aroma was rather overpowering. Sheryl had sex with some of the other women that worked for Gerald before. This was VERY different. Bestie’s hygiene, frankly, left something to be desired. There wasn’t much point in arguing though. Sheryl just had to make the best of it. Fortunately, Betsie was rather quick about her business. After she came, Betsie turned Sheryl over hand spanked her rather furiously.

It could have been worse. Sheryl wasn’t permanently damaged, but she realized as long as she stayed in this “reeducation camp” she was at the mercy of the matrons. The way out? Well, it amounted to finding some man that was willing to pay her bond and transit fees to Alaska.

The Islamic Republic of New York was hard up for oil, timber and basic minerals to run the arms businesses that old government had built in that area. No one was quite sure why or how, but at this point the one way out of a reeducation camp was to talk to Alaskan guys on the internet and get them to cooperate.

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