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Chapter 6- The conclusion

A few days later I received an email from Maureen welcoming me to the group. It included the details for the upcoming party and a link to my new member profile. I clicked on the link and entered my password. There were several private emails welcoming me.

I looked over my profile to see if all of the information was correct. There was a calendar of group sponsored events as well as some private parties hosted by members.

I browsed through the profiles. Each included a nude picture of the member. Many included various action pictures that I figured had been taken at one of the parties. Mine already included about thirty that showed me in some type of humiliating position or on the receiving end of a spanking. Unlike the pictures from the parties that Ethel had distributed to her friends, these pictures clearly showed my face.

I looked over the details for the upcoming party. It was Ladies night which meant all of the males had to assume the role of a Beta.

“I’ve already made reservations.” Jennifer said as she saw me looking through the announcement on the website. “Since Monday’s a holiday, I made them for the entire weekend. Ethel said a lot of the members stayed and played after the party was over. She said that Joyce and her were staying until Monday and suggested that we stay as well. I hope you don’t mind.”

I didn’t say anything. I was staring at my profile and more specifically, the pictures that had been posted to it. I wanted to delete some of the more embarrassing ones but the delete button wouldn’t work. Jennifer was watching as I was getting more frustrated.

“Do you like the pictures I added to your profile?” Jennifer said. “Maureen gave me the administrative password that allows us to edit our profile. I think they’ll help improve your rating; don’t you?”

Jennifer had her suitcases packed when I got home from work. She told me I wouldn’t be needing many clothes since she planned on keeping me naked most of the weekend. I packed an overnight bag and loaded the car.

We arrived at the hotel by 5:30. Check-in went smoothly. We used the room key in the elevator to access our floor. After getting settled we headed to the banquet room where the social hour was just getting started.

As we walked down the corridor we noticed another couple heading in the same direction. She wore a knee length leather dress while he walked behind her. It looked like she was leading him by a leash attached to his cock and balls.

“Maybe next time I’ll bring your leash.” Jennifer teased. “But I think I’d have you crawl behind me on hands and knees.”

There were about thirty people milling about as we entered the room. Joyce was taking care of registration. Jennifer gave her a friendly hug and presented our membership cards. Joyce put one in a large bowl and the other on the display board which was surrounded by a group of women.

Jennifer asked me to get her a drink. As I walked across the room I noticed several women staring at me. One came up and introduced herself as Sylvia. She was a short woman with a wide bottom.

“You’re kind of cute.” She said. “Are you new to the group? What’s your user name so I can check out your profile?”

As she turned to walk away she reached down to fondle my balls. She gave them a little squeeze before heading over to talk to some other women. I noticed they seemed to be checking me out as well as Sylvia gossiped with them.

By the time I returned with Jennifer’s drink, the room was filling up. There were now about sixty people here and more were still arriving. There was a lot of activity around the display board as women were writing down the names of the available males.

About six thirty Ethel told everyone that it was time to meet the new members. Eight of us marched up on stage. She had all of us strip which was especially embarrassing for me since Jennifer insisted I wear a pair of black laced panties under my clothing. I heard a lot of catcalls as I removed my pants.

She blindfolded each of us and then invited everyone to take a closer look. I didn’t know who was massaging my balls or pulling on my cock. I felt someone push an object up my asshole. It felt like a small butt plug.

“If I didn’t know better I’d swear he’s a virgin.” I heard a woman say. “From the pictures on his profile I know he isn’t, but he’s awful tight. I don’t think he can take my cock. At least not tonight.”

I heard moaning from those around me and knew they were receiving a similar treatment. Ethel announced that dinner was ready and asked everyone to take their seats. We were allowed to dress and take our seats. She wouldn’t allow us to sit together so I searched for a table with a vacant seat. I approached a table and asked if the seat was taken before joining five women and two other men. As I looked around the room, I noticed that women outnumbered the men at nearly every table.

“We’re always outnumbered on ladies night.” George said. “All of the women seem to show up çapa escort but a lot of the guys find an excuse to miss it. I wouldn’t be here if my wife didn’t insist on me coming.”

I looked across the table at a blonde woman with gigantic breasts that appeared to be manmade. She was staring at George with a look of contempt. I don’t think she appreciated his remark so I assumed that she was George’s wife. She was a little plump but was probably quite attractive when she was younger. I figured that he married her as a trophy wife but got the impression that George was now her trophy.

The blonde turned out to be George’s wife, Rebecca. The other man’s name was Terry and he was married to Melissa. The two couples appeared to be about the same age as me. Gloria was a little older. She was a divorcee and her friends Patricia and Vivian were widows. They appeared to be in their late fifties.

As dinner continued we talked about everyday life. We talked about our work, current events and even some sports, although that didn’t last long as the women started talking about their shopping adventures.

When dinner was over Maureen took the stage.

“If everyone is finished with dinner we can proceed to the draft.” Maureen said. “Since this is a holiday weekend, I know a lot of you will be staying until Sunday or Monday. Please remember that the official party ends tomorrow at noon so you’ll have to release your Beta by then. You can continue to party throughout your stay; but please keep all nudity confined to the privacy of your rooms.”

“It looks like we have 50 women here and only 30 men.” Maureen continued. “Since the women cannot change roles tonight, we’ll have to allow them to team up to even out the groups. Please keep your teams to a maximum of three. It would be great if some of you could team up with our new ladies to make them feel more comfortable.”

“Remember,” Maureen added. If you’re not satisfied with your Beta, you can return him and pick another one if there is one available. Just make sure to secure his hands so he can’t masturbate while he waits for another Alpha.”

The first to pick was a group of three. They selected a young dark haired man with a muscular build. They escorted him out of the room and towards their room.

“One of those women is a switch and the other two are submissive.” George whispered. “Vicky will make the others serve her and Tom or watch as he uses them. Tom likes to watch women play together, so Vicky might also whip the other two while he watches. The women will set up the scenario but Tom usually takes a dominant role even on ladies night. They’ll probably be at his mercy before the night is over.”

My cock was standing at attention as I listened to George. The next group of women were headed towards the table. It was another threesome. I recognized one of the women. It was Connie, a co-worker who worked in the IT department with me. I almost didn’t recognize her. She was dressed to impress, much different than the conservative clothing she wore to work. She had Terry stand and put a collar around his neck. A leash was attached and he was lead out of the room.

“Be glad that group didn’t select you.” George whispered. “Connie is relentless with the paddle. I understand her husband left her because he couldn’t take her nightly discipline. And the one to her left… that’s Paula and she loves to use guys as her toilet. I’m afraid Terry will be in for a long night.”

“Quiet!” Rebecca said. “Or you’ll be receiving a paddling from me every night for the next week. I might even ask Connie and her friends to come over and help me.”

Ethel was next to choose. She was accompanied by Joyce and Jennifer. She walked around the room searching for her prey. She walked past my table and selected a man from the one adjoining ours.

Rebecca’s name was called next. She got up along with Melissa and Patricia.

“Becky and Missy are sisters.” Vivian said. “And Patricia’s their mother. They like to play together whenever they get the opportunity. They can be quite demanding, not kind and gentle like me. You better hope they don’t pick you because they really like breaking in new members.”

Fortunately, they headed over to the table where Jack was sitting. He accompanied them out of the room on his knees with his face only inches behind Pat’s wide ass.

Gloria and Vivian had teamed up with a woman from an adjoining table. They selected Roy, Candice’s husband. I sat alone at my table awaiting my fate.

Several other groups got to choose before Maureen announced that it was her team’s turn. Her team was the last of the teams to choose so after they picked, individual Alphas would get their chance.

Accompanying Maureen was Candice and another woman I didn’t know. They were walking in my direction and stopped at the table. Maureen put a collar around my neck and pulled me to my feet. She handed the leash to the unknown woman and gave her the key to her room.

“You aksaray escort and Candice can get started.” She said. “I’ll be there when the draft is over.”

The woman pulled on the leash but I evidently didn’t respond fast enough. She grabbed my balls and squeezed until I dropped to my knees.

“Follow on hands and knees then,” She said as she turned to walk away.

As soon as we got to the room she made me strip. I was on my knees facing the two women as they inspected me.

“My name is Ellen.” The unknown woman announced. “I am Maureen’s daughter. Mom’s told me all about you and your talented tongue. I hope you’re as good as advertised because I need some hot sex tonight to curb my sexual frustration.”

“I joined the group with my husband after we got married.” She continued. “He was an Alpha and wanted me to submit to him but that wasn’t going to happen. Since I wouldn’t submit, he thought he could make some of the women here submit instead. It didn’t work out so we ended up getting a divorce about six months ago. I’ve been coming with my mom ever since. It gives me a chance to take out my frustrations on some guy and get some sexual satisfaction while doing so.”

Ellen was about twenty five. She looked fantastic. She had her mother’s hair and eyes. Her body was curvy, but not to the extent of her mother’s. While her mom probably carried an extra 50 ponds, Ellen didn’t. She was average height with a large chest, flat abdomen and a cute ass.

Ellen had me get on the bed with my arms and legs outstretched. She had Candice help her tie me spread eagled so I couldn’t move. She produced a couple of feathers and handed one to Candice. Soon I was wiggling, trying to escape their torture. When I begged them to stop, Ellen produced a gag with a ball on one side and a rubber cock on the other. She had Candice help her secure it in my mouth. I lay there unable to move or speak with a fake cock jutting from my mouth and my real one jutting from my waist.

Maureen arrived before they could continue my torment. She laughed when she saw my predicament. She suggested that Ellen mount my cock while Candice did the same to my face. She was happy to continue tickling me as I tried to satisfy her teammates.

Janice took the fake cock in one stroke. It wasn’t gigantic, but it would have been big enough to satisfy most women. She started bouncing up and down. Impaling herself on it. Each stroke caused her ass to bounce against my nose.

Every so often she would wiggle her ass as she’d sit on my face with the fake cock fully impaled in her. Her musky fragrance overtook my senses. I tried to inhale but struggled to breathe. When my efforts started to fail, she would start riding the cock again allowing me to recuperate as her orgasm continued to build.

With Candice working my face it was difficult to concentrate on what Ellen was doing to my cock. She was well lubricated and bouncing up and down rapidly on it. Maureen’s teasing with the feather had me squirming and trying to evade her teasing but the ropes held fast so I couldn’t escape her torment.

The squirming must have had an effect on Ellen as she was now driving her pussy up and down the entire length of my shaft. She was panting either from her excitement or from the exertion. As she neared her climax she increased the speed of her trusts. She impaled herself fully on me and shot her juices over and over. Janice erupted moments later causing her juices to run down across my face.

When they were done they switched places. Maureen took Candice’s place while Candice impaled herself on my cock. Ellen picked up two feathers and started her version of my torture.

Maureen impaled herself slower than Candice had. After each stroke she made sure my nose tickled her puckered asshole. She’d spread her cheeks to allow me full access and remain there until I heaved for air. It took longer to get a response from her and Candice had cum long before Maureen had built herself up to an orgasm. When she came, it was like a torrential downpour. My face was covered and I was exhausted. They traded places once again and force me to endure another round of pleasure… and torment.

Maureen’s pussy was not as tight as her daughter’s. She sat on my cock and had me do all the work. She weighed about 180 pounds so it was difficult to move under her. The tickling didn’t have as much effect on me now. Either I had gotten used to it or was too exhausted to care. Ellen had her second orgasm on my face. Since her mom was still riding my cock, she removed the gag and resumed her face sitting, only this time it was her ass that was receiving all of my attention.

She continued until her mom had an orgasm. I shot with her. It was my first orgasm of the night. I still had three women to clean, and they made sure I did a good job as they presented me with their pussies and asses. When I was done they released me so we could take a short break.

The bar was well stocked. I had a topkapı escort beer while the women had a glass of wine. We talked for a little while as I took the opportunity to recover. The night was still early and it was soon time for my next challenge.

Maureen had me kneel on the foot of the bed with my legs spread apart. She tied them to keep them apart. She then tied my hands together and used a rope to pull them to the head of the bed. I heard some activity and turned my head to see Maureen putting on a strapon harness. I knew what was coming next, I just didn’t know how big it was going to be.

Ellen got on the bed and sat with her legs spread. She helped me raise my head so she could position herself under my face. She sat on my arms with her legs spread wide and leaned back. My mouth buried in her sex and as she draped her legs over my shoulders. I felt something probing my ass. It was a finger coating my hole with lube.

“We’re going to start with my eight incher.” Maureen said. “I’ll continue until you make Ellen cum and then Candice will get a chance to do the same. Then we’ll change positions and switch cocks so I can enjoy that tongue of yours while Ellen and Candice enjoy your ass. Then we’ll change cocks again for round three.”

“If you can keep from cumming, I’ll let you fuck my ass when we’re done.” Candice said. “Of course you’ll have to clean up your mess when you’re through; but I know how much you white boys like chocolate, and my ass is like candy.”

Maureen pushed her cock in until the head was fully inside me. She started to work it in deeper, allowing me to adjust to the size. When she had it fully inserted she began working it in and out in long, agonizing strokes. I wanted to feel her ram it in me. I wanted her to take me. I was trying to push back against it which earned me a slap across my bottom.

“I know you like the feeling.” Maureen laughed. “You’re just like a slut and before we’re done with you tonight, you’ll be begging for cock. You’ll feel empty when there’s not one filling your ass. We’re going to make you into an anal whore.”

She started impaling me faster. She continued with the long strokes until Ellen started to moan. The closer she got to her climax the faster Maureen went. They were short rapid jabs now. My ass was starting to get sore from the friction so she spread more lude on her cock. Finally I tasted Ellen’s juice. When she was done, Maureen pulled out and Janice quickly replaced her.

Janice was more forceful. She pushed the cock in hard and sunk it to the balls in one stroke. She’d insert it all the way and then pull it completely out only to reinsert it again. When she tired of this game she started to pummel me with long hard strokes. They were almost as fast as Maureen’s jabs but they were full length. I felt a tingling in my balls as she rubbed the cock against my prostate. I willed myself not to cum.

It took a long time to get Ellen to the point of another orgasm. When it came it was more powerful than the first and seemed to go on forever. When she had recovered, she rolled off the bed and allowed Maureen to take her place. Time for round two.

Ellen put her harness on. The cock looked longer and thicker as she lined up with my hole. She liked to pull the cock completely out of my hole and reinsert it. Each time I was penetrated I felt a burning sensation, but after adjusting to size of the phallus, I quickly became aroused and enjoyed the fullness of being impaled.

Every so often I wondered about Jennifer. Was she doing this to some other guy? Would she be using the things she learned tonight on me? A part of me hoped so, but another part was scared things could get out of hand.

Candice was pounding me now. The larger cock offered more resistance, but it was no match for her muscular body. She rammed the cock in and out while I tried to make Maureen cum again. My ass felt like it was on fire by the time I consumed Maureen’s juice.

Janice was getting on the bed as Maureen inserted half of a double ended cock into her. Ten inches of the monster jutted from her waist. It was so thick that it took both hands to encircle it.

She inserted it gently but Candice wasn’t as gentle. She had grabbed me by the hair and was pulling me into her sex. Her pounding of my ass had made her wet. She wrapped her legs around my head and lay back. She squeezed me cutting off all of my air. She was fucking my face with her pussy, even though she was not wearing a cock anymore.

Maureen was all the way in. My asshole felt stretched to the point I knew I’d never be continent again. She was driving the cock with all of her weight to generate momentum. Fortunately Candice came quickly. Unfortunately Maureen continued her assault. A few minutes later I felt the cock squirting something into my ass. It helped to lubricate me but after a few minutes it felt like my ass was on fire.

“That was a mixture of ginger root and pepper sauce.” Maureen said. “It’ll burn for about twenty minutes but won’t cause any permanent damage.”

It was Ellen’s turn. The burning sensation was still there as she entered me. She was more forceful than her mother. She pounded away as Candice continued to smother me. I felt my arousal building and shot my load for the second time. When I was finally untied Janice looked at me and shook her head.

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

Last Saturday, my Domme was invited to a private party. She immediately asked if it was ok if I came too and was told by all means yes. I was excited to go to another private party, this one at someone’s house. We met for dinner before the party and had a great time discussing “rings and things and fine array” which set the tone for an extremely relaxing evening.

We got to the house and I helped bring in the equipment and toys for the evening. I have grown fond of actually serving Her in a wide variety of ways beyond the scenes. Prior to leaving home She had suggested I bring a pillow because She wanted me to sit at Her feet and felt a pillow would be more comfortable for me. I liked that idea too as it is an honor to sit at Her feet and be ready to serve Her as She needed.

When all the equipment was in I went to Her and She asked for one of Her bags, which I brought to Her. She reached in and brought out the collar She made for me. I was thrilled and went right to my knees as She showed it to me, classy black on the outside but purple representing Her on the inside. It was very elegant which is how She is in my mind. I know how much effort She put in it and that means so much more to me than one She might have purchased for me. I knelt before Her and She placed it around my neck sealing my relationship as Hers. I have been Hers for several weeks when She presented me with a collar She purchased that barely fit and was not very comfortable, but was gratefully received by me as I was overjoyed to accept Her offer of being Hers. This collar, however, said much more than that first one, as it was made by Her hands. It is the ultimate honor; to be collared in a collar crafted for me by Her hands was beyond special. Thank you Ma’am, I was deeply touched.

The atmosphere at the party was extremely relaxed as we all talked and got to know each other better. There were a few things that helped make it so relaxed. First, the atmosphere the hosts of the party set, was very relaxed. There was no hurry; it was very pleasant conversation as we all got to know each other better. Second, before the party my Domme and I discussed what type of scene we were going to try depending on the setup of the house. If it was feasible She was going to give me an OTK Spanking with a brush She purchased for the occasion. Thirdly, She had asked me to write about the scene before it happened so She could understand my mindset as to how I thought about this type of scene. She was very clear to let me know I was not writing a script of how I wanted the scene to go and to not expect it to go anything like what I wrote. Lastly, when we came in She quickly discovered a chair there that mecidiyeköy escort She felt was ideal for OTK, so while I was anxious about it before we got there, shortly after arrival it was clear I was going to get my first OTK Spanking.

As we started chatting She asked me to get Her a few things, which I was delighted to do. I was also very happy to sit at Her feet while we all talked. She loves to pull my hair and repeatedly did to remind me to whom I belonged. She also delighted in grabbing my collar and pulling me closer. I cherish both sensations affirming I am indeed Hers. Shortly after we arrived a couple set up on the cross there and began to play. They moved to a table when finished and proceeded to begin fire play. After a bit of fire play the Top decided, and the bottom consented to do some blood cupping. They asked my Domme if She could apply some needles to facilitate the cupping. I was directed to get Her needle kit and helped Her by presenting Her with the needles. I am not a person that enjoys needle play and blood much, but for some reason I was ok with this scene.

After the needles were in place we sat back down and resumed conversation. Then out of nowhere She told me it was time to strip to my underwear. I immediately complied and was soon in my shorts and socks. She had taken Her spot in the chair She liked and motioned for me to lie across Her lap. I obeyed Her command and felt Her pull down my underwear. For some reason that made it real. I got a little tense waiting for Her to begin. She told me that She wasn’t ready because She needed Her brush. I stood up leaving my underwear at the point where She had set it and went to get the brush. I returned and presented it to Her and resumed my position across Her lap. I wasn’t exactly sure what I would feel, but I immediately felt remorse for the few “checks” I had written that She was about to cash on my bottom. First I felt Her hand rise up and fall hard on my naughty butt. It was soon followed by a several more stinging strokes. Next I felt the cool wood back of the brush being rubbed over my cheeks, that sensation was replaced right behind it with the sensation of the bristles being run over my freshly warmed up bottom.

That sensation shocked me, as I hadn’t considered it. I was across Her knee and felt an arm across my back securing me in place while She brushed my skin with the rough bristles. It was not a pleasant feeling yet not totally unpleasant either…yet. The spanking then began in earnest as She raised the brush and brought it down on my butt. I had handled the brush and it was very light in my hands, so I wondered etiler escort just how painful it could be. I will tell you it was very painful. The first smack registered an “Oh fuck” in my brain. She proceeded to spank the same spot 3 more times in a row spank, spank, spank. I whimpered and wondered just exactly how much of this can I take. She found a spot on my other cheek spank, spank, spank, spank in exactly the same place made me cringe and raise my body, just a bit, off Her lap.

She then proceeded to rain blows on my upper back with double taps on the inside of each shoulder blade. I clenched my jaw because I hadn’t thought She’d hit anything other than my butt and thighs. I instinctively rose up a bit more but was held in place by Her strong arm. When I rose up She set the brush down and started to lightly tickle my back and then found my left armpit and began to tickle there. I burst into laughter giggling like a toddler. It was pure torture. My brain was still processing the pain but reacting to the tickling. My muscles completely relaxed as She tickled me and quickly I felt a Spank on my bottom followed by several more. “Oh fuck” I said as I tried to process the pain on my relaxed butt.

She gave me a series of spanks on my left cheek each one burned like crazy then gave a few on my right cheek. My legs rose up enough that if I were on a bench I would surely have gotten the evil stick on the bottom of my foot. She didn’t have an evil stick but She did have the brush and She turned it over and began to brush my tender bottom. My mind screamed at me and tears filled my eyes. I didn’t think how much that would hurt when we were discussing this spanking. It is not a pleasant feeling to have the stiff bristles of a hairbrush being run across your tender freshly spanked skin. She immediately followed that by tickling again. I couldn’t control my laughter, more torture. My mind was being truly fucked. Stinging pain followed by rough scratches turned into light tickling torture followed by more stinging pain back to tickling and then pain followed by scratching. I struggled to keep up with the feelings laughing when She spanked me crying with the tickles.

She then set the brush down and proceeded to give an old fashioned bare hand, bare butt, over the knee spanking for a bit. Her hand was warm compared to the brush and while not as hard as the wood it hurt every bit as much. Tears filled my eyes and I was filled with remorse for each “check” She was cashing. I was whimpering like a naughty little boy and apologized many times. She picked up the brush again and started to hit different places on kağıthane escort my butt, thighs and back explaining there were white spots still and I deserved a completely red backside. I called yellow at that point and She heard me with ease. She took a break and stroked my hair then gently rubbed my stinging bottom. She allowed me to process the pain and relax for what seemed like a long time but was really less than a minute and then tickled me some more.

When She stopped I regained my composure and She started to run the cool back of the brush over my skin again. She raised the brush off my butt and I tensed waiting for the strike and I waited and waited finally I relaxed which was followed immediately by a series of spanks, each of which was on the same exact spot. She then found the same spot on the other cheek and planted a series there. More tickling under my arm immediately followed it. When She started to tickle I tried to close the gap and She warned me not to block or She would make me open with more spanks. She quickly spanked some more as my mind went into a fog. I was crying and laughing and crying some more as she alternated spanking and tickling. Finally She rained a series of strokes on my right cheek and I cried “Red, red.”

She held me close in place and whispered to me what a good boy I was as She stroked my hair and comforted me while I cried. I was truly gone, deep in subspace. All I could hear was Her voice letting me know how proud She was, what a good boy I was. I lay across Her lap for what seemed like ages. Finally I started to get up. I had been in space before to the point it was difficult to stand and this was exactly like that. I managed to keep my balance long enough to sit in Her lap where She could hug me and cuddle me. It was such a loving cuddle I knew I was safe and cared for. I started a long slow climb down to normalcy and decided to sit on my blanket at Her feet again. It took what seemed like forever to fully regain all my senses. My bottom was delightfully sore and would remain tender in spots for all of the next day.

I spent the remainder of the time recovering and serving Her. Bring Her food and brushing Her hair. We talked about fire cupping again and She thought I might enjoy cupping my genitals. The possibility intrigued me. One of the people there told me I would probably enjoy it a lot. I watched our hostess perform some CBT on her sub and thought I might be willing to try some light CBT.

I have been to many events and parties, but this one was the most relaxed I have ever seen. It was extremely comfortable and fun. The participants were a very friendly group of people that I enjoyed being around very much. Even through my spanking I was mentally relaxed. It is a rare treat to be spanked in such an environment. I hope the people that witnessed the spanking enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed the space I went to. My Domme made me feel loved and safe throughout the experience and after the scene. I am truly grateful to be Hers. Thank You Ma’am!

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

They both knew we only had the one day, but somehow neither of them was in a rush. It was nice to just enjoy each moment as it came. The first was the greeting, a tight embrace that lingered a little too long. The second, a brush of skin as he handed her a drink to relax. The third moment seemed to happen in slow motion. As they lay embraced together on the leather sofa, he moved his hand to her face, pulling it up to face him. Their eyes closed just before their lips met, his rosy and pink, hers matte and black – contrasting her pale skin.

A moan of longing escaped her lips, causing his to curve upward in a mischievous grin, smiling as they continued to kiss sensually. For several minutes their tongues danced in each other’s mouths like a perfectly choreographed dance. He began slowly moving his hand during this time, tracing one finger up her leg to reach her waist. From there he inched his way further and further up before grasping her right breast in his hand. As soon as he squeezed, he felt a small gasp, followed quickly by her dark nails gripping his upper thigh. Unbeknownst to him, she had also been subtly moving her hand into position while they kissed.

He took the pressure on his leg as a sign to continue further and brought up his right hand to meet her left breast, also giving it a firm squeeze. This elicited more sighs of pleasure from her, as he alternated between squeezing and rubbing over the soft fabric of her top. It wasn’t long before he felt a small but growing bump beneath each hand. He grinned fervently and broke the embrace.

“Lose the shirt,” he said, still grinning widely. She blushed, the pink hue in her cheeks contrasting greatly against her porcelain skin. But before the colour had dissipated, she had leaned forward, lifting the shirt over her head to reveal a black lace bra. The sight of her ample cleavage caused him to dive back on to her lips, this time biting down on the lower one and giving it a gentle tug. She responded in kind, causing a low groan from him in return. After a short while of more intense kissing, he again broke the embrace, placing one hand on her now exposed breast and used the other to tuck her hair behind her ear. He then moved back in to start kissing his way up her neck. Each kiss lingered on longer than the last, and with each one he applied slightly more pressure. By this point he breathing was heavy, her eyes still shut tightly as she felt him ravishing her neck.

As he continued planting more and more kisses on her neck, he felt her grip on his thigh tightening. He knew from this the control he was exhibiting on her, as she had still not moved her hand towards the growing bulge in his jeans. At this point, he decided a change in position was necessary, and that she needed to shed some more clothes.

“As much as I like you in that bra, it needs to go,” he said in his deep voice. With a nod, she began to sit up, reaching one hand behind to unhook her bra. “No no,” he said, shaking his head as he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Allow me,” he grinned devilishly. The hand he’d placed on her shoulder lifted a finger, placing it underneath the bra strap and sliding said strap down her arm slowly, tracing his finger down her arm, causing goosebumps to erupt along its length. He slowly raised the other hand, and repeated the motion, sliding the second bra strap all the way down. Once her shoulder straps were no longer providing support, she watched eagerly as he leaned in again. His face came close to her so she closed her eyes in anticipation, waiting for the kiss. But several seconds went by and nothing touched her lips. As she opened her eyes she saw the devilish grin once again. At the same time, she felt her bra being pulled completely off.

Before she could react to her new state of undress, she was pushed backwards. Unable to keep her balance, she fell on to her back. She was quickly joined in her horizontal position as he laid down on top of her, wrapping his lips around her left nipple. This caused a loud moan to erupt from her mouth. As his tongue swirled around and around, her moans increased in pitch and length, a sure sign that what he was doing was on the right track. As he settled into laying on top of her, he felt her legs wrapping around him, one after another, pulling him closer. He responded by switching to her right nipple, gently licking this one like an ice cream cone, imagining the sweet flavours enveloping his tongue. Further moans escaped her mouth as he licked and licked. Silently, while she was preoccupied, his left hand moved up to the now wet left breast and with a sharp squeal suddenly burst from her. She looked down to see her left taksim escort nipple being pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Another squeal erupted as she felt him pinch again, harder this time.

She could feel her longing for him burning as he continued to ravish her breasts, every so often swapping mouth for fingers and vice-versa. She kept the grip she had with her legs and suddenly made the conscious realization that she was grinding up against him. A new underlying sound was added to the mixture of moans and heavy breathing, with the friction of her jeans rubbing on his midriff. He felt his already constricted jeans go tighter as his bulge grew even further. Without making a conscious decision he suddenly realized that he’d started reciprocating the gesture, increasing the rubbing sensation around his crotch, not even noticing, but enjoying it all the same.

In his own renewed desire, he decided that she needed to repay her enthusiasm with even more teasing. He kept on licking and sucking at her delicious nipples but used his hands to unwrap her legs from him, keeping his eyes locked onto hers the whole time. This caused frowning and a disgruntled noise of disappointment from her. But he just continued pushing her legs off so that they were laid flat once again. He placed his right hand on her left knee, ever so slowly sliding it up her thigh. Knowing how much she liked to be teased, he didn’t make this a consistent movement in one direction. The volume and frequency of her moans began to increase, and he continued to move between each breast, making sure to give them equal attention.

As he reached the crotch of her jeans, he noticed the noticeably wet spot down there and he decided to give her a little shock, gently but firmly wrapping his teeth around her left nipple and squeezing. She let out a noise that was half-way between a moan and a scream. He smirked, before moving over to bite her right nipple. Another moan/scream erupted from her mouth, while her hands found her way to his back, sinking her nails in. She raked them down his back as he continued alternating between biting, licking, and sucking. He let out a gasp of his own as her nails scraped down his back, the pressure was more than enough to trace lines in the skin through his shirt. He decided to retaliate by undoing the button of her jeans, before sliding his hand inside.

“God you’re soaked,” he proclaimed, the devilish grin once again returning to his face. She blushed furiously, turning her face away from his. “What a filthy little slut you must be to get this wet before I’ve even gotten your jeans off,” he continued, mocking her. She continued to blush, shutting her eyes tight as he began rubbing her mound over her lace underwear. He made slow circular movements with two fingers while he continued to suck on her nipples. He relished the power he had over her at this moment, she was putty in his hands – as proved by the growing damp patch on her underwear, not to mention the frequent moaning that she couldn’t seem to stop.

Almost without warning, he stopped suddenly, letting the moaning die down to a low whimper. However, the silence was elusive as she continued grinding on him from her horizontal position on the sofa. She turned to face him again, opening her eyes with an almost pleading look. He raised himself up before pulling her legs off him and stood above her.

“Get up,” he said in a low voice that was almost a growl. She slowly raised her head, swinging her legs on to the floor to sit up. She then stood in front of him, trying half-heartedly to cover her torso with her hands, but he pushed them down to her sides. He returned to the sofa, spreading his legs and arms. “Take off your jeans,” he said. It wasn’t a request. She shyly put one hand on each side of her now open jeans and pushed them down her legs, before stepping out and kicking them to one side. “Now,” he smirked, “on your knees slut.”

This time she obeyed without hesitancy, dropping to her knees almost instantly, and awaiting further instruction. He calmly reached down to his own jeans and popped open the top button. The fly was slid down and the jeans pulled fully open. He then reached inside and pulled his boxers down as far as they would go. His cock sprung forward, standing fully at attention and drawing her eyes to it. She stared hungrily for several seconds before looking him in the eyes once more. He nodded his approval, and she crawled forwards, coming to a stop at his feet. Wrapping one hand around the base of his now quivering cock, she leant forward. She slowly slid one hand up and down the shaft, whilst sensually beyoğlu escort licking the tip. He allowed himself to let out a low groan as he savoured the sensation. Precum started spilling out of his cock almost immediately, which was quickly lapped up by her waiting tongue. She swirled it around and around the head, while still using one hand to massage the shaft. He moaned louder, and she looked up to meet his gaze. She stared into his eyes as she pushed her lips down, engulfing half his cock in one smooth motion. He bit his lip and gripped the sofa on either side of him.

“Good girl,” he moaned. He saw a brief pink hue return to her cheeks before she lowered her eyes and started bobbing up and down in earnest. This continued for several minutes, and he lay his head back and shut his eyes. However, as he felt a pressure building up inside, he placed a hand on the side of her head. She looked back up at him, her lips still wrapped around the head. “Not just yet,” he grinned. With that she released her lips and waited, still kneeling close to his legs. Without another word he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her up. Still gripping her tightly, he led her out of the room and upstairs, her pale form following close behind him as he walked upstairs with his still hard cock sticking out the front of his trousers. When they reached the bedroom he spun her around, pushing her back so that she fell onto the bed.

He pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it to one side. Next, his jeans were pushed down to around his ankles and kicked in a random direction. He pulled his boxers up to contain himself once more before almost leaping onto the bed and on top of her. He grabbed each of her wrists in each of his own hands and raised them above her head, pinning them in position under his weight. He then leant in and pushed his tongue between her lips once more. Her mouth opened eagerly to meet his and they spent several more minutes kissing passionately as they ground against one another.

Eventually, he managed to pull himself away as he remembered the main reason for bringing her to the bedroom. Standing up, he quickly went over to a chest of drawers and rummaged around. Several seconds later, he emerged with two pairs of handcuffs. One, the traditional silver and another, purple and made of Velcro. He sat down on the bed and made her put her hands together, wrapping the purple straps around her wrists, making sure that they were tight enough as to completely restrict her movement, and enough to pinch the skin ever so slightly. Next, he raised her arms once again above her head and used the second set of cuffs to attach her to the nearest bedpost. She wriggled around, to see how much leverage she had, she could move her arms a very small amount, but her wrists were tightly bound.

He made his way to the end of the bed. Next, he slipped his underwear down and off, stepping out of them and then kicking them off towards his discarded jeans. He lowered himself forward on to the bed. When he was all the way down, he placed a hand either side of her waist and pulled her lace undies ’til they slid all the way down and off her legs. He savoured the feeling of the now, even larger damp patch before throwing them on to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He then placed one hand on each thigh, tracing the skin in light circles closer and closer to her crotch. She shivered as the feel of his fingers on her skin sent shudders down her spine. His head began to lower towards her cleanly shaven pussy, and she tried to lift her head to watch, but with her arms tied she couldn’t do much to reposition herself without it hurting her neck. So, she just laid back and waited for the inevitable.

Another shudder sent suddenly up her spine as she felt him kissing his way up her left thigh. He seemed to be slowing down with each kiss, but maybe that was just her imagination. It seemed to be almost an eternity before he finally placed his tongue on her outer lips, circling just above her clit. She tried to move her hands to grip the bed sheets but was met with resistance as the metal handcuffs clinked against the bedpost, digging into her wrists. He gave a quick smirk that she couldn’t see, but somehow still knew it had happened. He then began slow, deliberate movements, sliding his tongue down to her inner lips. He first licked up and down, savouring the sensation of her soft, moist lips, the sweet juices that came with that heavenly scent. He then brought up his hand, slowly sliding one finger into her opening. He was met with little resistance, his entire finger coated in her juices. He slid the beşiktaş escort finger in and out slowly, gauging her reaction. Soft moans once again flowed from her lips, so he opted to gently slide a second finger in. The moans grew briefly louder as the second finger went in. He then curled his fingers upwards in the classic ‘come hither’ motion, the moans once again grew even louder and more insistent.

Once he found a steady rhythm with his finger motions, he resumed his licking. He moved up to her clit and started circling it slowly. Each time his tongue passed over it she moaned a little louder. He kept his fingers moving and switched from circling to side-to-side motions. The moans continued but grew slightly less frequent. He switched it up again, this time sliding his tongue up and down over her clit, the moaning increased again as she started jostling her hips, wriggling around as much as she could. With his free hand, he pushed the nearest leg further away from the other, making sure that she couldn’t close them. He tried adjusting the motions of his tongue one more time, making a figure eight with her clit as the centre point. This seemed to achieve the loudest moans so far, and he was now struggling to keep his fingers steadily inside her as she writhed from side to side. From this point, he just powered through, making sure to focus all his energy on keeping his fingers and tongue working in tandem. Several minutes passed this way and then suddenly, the moaning turned to loud squeals of pleasure. Her hips started bucking off the bed and he lost contact with his tongue. Quickly moving, he moved back in to continue licking at her whilst keeping his fingers firmly planted on her g-spot. The bucking and squealing lasted a good thirty seconds, and even after her orgasm had appeared to have subsided, there were still a few intermittent aftershocks.

Grinning widely, he sat up and knelt in front of her, before rubbing his still hard cock against her pussy. She squirmed from the sensitivity but didn’t outwardly object. He slowly eased his way in, seeing her bite her lip in pleasure when he finished filling her up. He grabbed her right leg and raised it up in the air, causing more gasping from her as he slid even further in. He then started gradual pumping in and out, causing her breathing to become harsh and shallow once more. By this point, he was thoroughly pent up, and it was only a few more minutes before his pace started to pick up. The thrusting got deeper and harder and the moaning resumed as he used his free hand to start rubbing the area around her inner lips with two fingers. A couple more minutes of vigorous thrusting and he grunted heavily. His hips stopped their movements and his fingers stopped circling. She felt the warm wet sensation as his cum filled her pussy.

Pink in the face and very out of breath, he pulled out and then collapsed on the bed beside her. She turned to face him and leaned in for a kiss. Just before she reached his lips, however, a clanging sound met their ears. The handcuffs were still in place, preventing her from reaching his lips. “Oh yeah,” he breathed heavily, “I suppose… I better let you out of those now.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” she laughed back, still a little breathless herself. As soon as he let her out of her restraints she reached down and touched his now flaccid cock and started running her thumb around the tip. He grabbed her wrist as he twitched from how sensitive he still was.

“Watch it,” he growled, smiling and giving her a peck on the lips, “it’s too sensitive right now for you to be doing that.” She pouted, clearly disappointed. “Alright then,” he exclaimed, “I’ve got an idea. Now go and sit on the chair in the lounge.” She looked at him inquisitively “I’ll meet you down there in a minute,” he responded. She wasn’t sure what was coming but did as she was told. Minutes later she was sitting quietly in the chair and he came down holding a vibrating wand, the two pairs of handcuffs and some duct tape. Her eyes widened in a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

“Now don’t move,” he commanded as he proceeded to use a pair of handcuffs to attach her left arm to the arm of the chair, and then do the same with the other pair and her right arm. Next, he pulled a long length of duct tape, which he tore off with his teeth. This was wrapped around her left leg and the left leg of the chair. He again repeated the process, tying her right leg to the right leg of the chair. It was then, with the most devilish grin she’d ever seen, he placed the tip of the wand against her pussy. He then tore off another length of tape, which he wrapped around her torso to keep the wand in place. Finally, he turned the wand on a medium setting and then reclined on the sofa, switching on the tv and grabbing a sip of his drink from earlier, they were both still completely naked.

Her squeals of pleasure were drowned out by the television as he shouted above both, “We’ll see how you’re feeling in about an hour.”

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

Please note: This was written for the Literotica 750 Word Project 2021.

So it’s only 750 words long.

Two longer similar stories of mine are linked at the end – consider this a taster.

___________

Erotic pleasure, for me, starts in the anticipation. It’s often forgotten, but planning, thinking about and discussing our desires can really transform scenes into amazing experiences.

I’m in bed, with a friend with excellent benefits.

“What is it you want?” I ask, curious.

There’s a wry chuckle from behind my head. “What do I want? Oh, so, so much… Let me think.”

A pause, and you clear your throat.

“I want to hear you breathe,” you hiss in my ear, hand wrapped in a handful of my hair, pulling me close. “Breathe in.”

I’m breathing, obviously, adjusting to you lying on top of me, all warm and muscled.

“Go on. Breathe in for me, now.”

I take a deeper breath. In, and out. It’s a bit wobbly, but it calms me, helping me into an accepting headspace where I can welcome whatever happens next.

“Yes, like that. Again. Breathe in.”

I inhale, more deeply.

“And out. Lovely.” çapa escort I continue focusing on pulling air into my lungs, and letting it out again.

“Such regular, even, breathing. I’m looking forward to hearing how that changes.”

It’s a promise of something happening to make it change. Pain, I imagine.

I shrug, feigning nonchalance.

There’s a sudden slap on my bare arse. It’s lightning-quick, and unexpected, and stings.

Your voice is next to my ear now, and sounds much more menacing.

“I can hear you starting to breathe faster. You’re still taking nice controlled breaths, for now.”

The words ‘for now’ are a barely veiled threat.

“I’m going to change that. Have you gasping in shock, panting with pain, begging for a moment to just stop and breathe.

“I might give it to you. Or I might wait; wait until you can breathe nice and evenly again, while you know what’s about to come. I bet it’d take a while, but you’d manage it eventually.

“And then I can do it again. I want to hear those sounds of you pulling in air, trying to cope with everything I’m doing to you. aksaray escort

“I want to see your mouth open, breathless from panting because you’re so turned on. Or is it because you’re suffering so much?

“I want to know if experiences of pain and pleasure look different on your face, or if they sound the same coming out of your mouth.

“I want to see if you sniff, or whimper, as you try to control your breath for me. Or will you be all silent and stoic, as you valiantly try to comply?”

You run a finger up the front of my throat, gently. As you lift my chin with it, it’s clear you’re the one in control.

“I want to see your face get red and see the sheen of sweat developing as you struggle.

“I want to see tears in your eyes and drool and snot on your face.

“I want to hear your voice wobble, struggling to speak words, ashamed to admit you’re gagging for more. Watch you begging me to keep going, while pleading for it to stop.

“I want to hear your breathing after that, all ragged and desperate and hot. I want to hear you cry and sob and resist me, and then listen to you while topkapı escort you accept, give in and submit.

“I want to watch as you desperately try to fend off that orgasm, struggling to control yourself until I give you permission. I want to see the expression in your eyes as you attempt to be obedient, and then when you realise you’re going to fail.

“And then, finally, I want to gaze at your writhing body, twisting in delight, and I want to hear you as you come. I want to know if you scream out at your peak, or do you bite your lip, tense, and quiver all over?

“I can’t wait to see how gorgeous you become, all panting, moaning and totally out of control, driven beyond reason by my mixture of pleasure and pain.

“I want to know your reactions. All of them.

“I want to hear that heartbeat of yours slowing after you come, your breaths gradually calming down.

“I want to gaze at your beautiful body, and watch you sighing slowly in relief as you finally relax. See your breathing return to normal, but you’ll be appreciating every peaceful breath you take.”

There’s a pause. I remain silent, expectant, obedient.

“And then, after all that, I want to cuddle up to you, feel your warmth, and just listen to you breathe.”

__________

Liked this? Please vote and take a look at my other stories.

If you enjoyed this, I particularly recommend my stories ‘Tell Me What You Want’ and ‘Wheelchair Bound?’ Comment and let me know what you think!

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

At eleven o’clock on Saturday morning, Laura crossed the hall and knocked on her neighbour’s door. She was both excited and terrified. She held a note signed by Brad in one hand, and keys in the other. When she got no reply, she did as the note instructed. She unlocked the door and went inside her neighbour’s apartment.

Laura was wearing a pale red knee-length summer skirt, a cream fitted top and tan heels. It was the third outfit that she had tried on her trembling body that morning and she desperately hoped Brad would like it. She flicked her head from side to side, filtering her silky brown hair through her open finger. That had taken another hour to curl and shine.

She tiptoed into the man’s bedroom and, as expected, found her neighbour chained to his own bed, naked other than for boxer shorts.

“I got your note,” she stuttered, her ankles cross and legs pinned together as her skirt towered his manacled body.

Brad tensed his biceps and hauled himself on to his side. Despite his physique, the cuffs that chained his wrists and ankles to the steel bed frame were inescapable, and he was reduced to moaning hopelessly into his gag.

“Sorry, I feel embarrassed,” Laura giggled nervously, “I didn’t know you were into this.”

She smoothed her skirt and sat nervously on the bed next to her gorgeous neighbour. She was trembling; she had never had more than a passing smile and pleasantries from him before.

“Ag…ag…” Brad moaned, his body limp, exhausted from trying to escape from the double locked cuffs.

“Oh ‘gag’!” Laura exclaimed, reaching behind his head and releasing the red ball from his mouth.

“Thank you!” Brad exclaimed, his mouth sore from the tightly buckled gag. He tried to catch his breath, “I’m really sorry Laura, but I didn’t write that note. That woman you saw in my flat last night left me like this and left you that note.”

Laura could feel herself turning red and held her hand to her mouth.

“It’s okay,” Brad smiled, trying to reassure his mortified neighbour, “This is my fault, not yours.”

Laura stood up to leave.

“No, please,” Brad panicked, “Did she leave you any keys?”

“I’m so sorry,” Laura sighed, pulling a handcuff key from her bra, “I thought you wanted this.”

“Normally I would,” Brad replied kindly, “You look really nice.”

“Thank you!” Laura’s brown eyes glistened with moisture.

“Can you unlock me?”

“Oh god, sorry!”

It was the first time that Laura had used handcuffs and it took her several minutes to free Brad from his bed. He sat up and felt with dismay the hard steel chastity cage between his legs.

“Did she give you any other keys?” he asked, still playing with his crotch.

“Oh god!” Laura exclaimed with a laugh, “Oh I’m so sorry!”

Brad smiled and shook his head, “That’s okay, “Why don’t you make us some coffee while I shower and try to slip of his this.”

*

Twenty minutes later Brad joined Laura in his kitchen. His dark hair was towel dried but unbrushed, his white shirt was open a few buttons and his grey trousers led to bare feet.

“Did you get it off?” Laura asked from behind her coffee mug.

“No…”

She let out a giggle before she could stop herself, “I’m sorry, it’s not funny.”

Brad smiled; his neighbour was an interesting woman, “I can pull it out, but I can’t get it off my balls,” Brad continued before adding, “Why am I telling you this?”

“Can I look?” she giggled.

“No! But thanks for the coffee.”

They sat across from each other at the kitchen table as Brad played aimlessly with the handcuffs. He swung them around to see how they locked automatically before accidentally locking one around his wrist.

“Oh fuck,” he smiled.

Laura was watching with interest, “Who was that woman?” she asked.

Brad explained how the night before, the woman had handcuffed him to the train seat, stolen this bag, only to reappear at his apartment. He had then let the woman seduce him, sleep with him and leave him chained mecidiyeköy escort to his bed. She had forced him to tell her his internet banking password but had only transferred sixty-nine pence. She had then left the note and the handcuff key with Laura.

“How will you contact her?” Laura asked.

“I’ll have to wait for her to call me,” he tapped his crotch, “Soon I hope.”

“Aren’t you mad at her?” Laura asked, confused by her attractive neighbour’s uber cool demeaner.

Brad smiled to himself. He wasn’t going to tell Laura, but sex with the mystery woman had been amazing, plus the woman had enforced this introduction to his cute neighbour. Okay, she had threatened to rob him twice but hadn’t taken anything. So no, he wasn’t mad, more intrigued, but of course all that might change if she didn’t return with the key to his cock.

The locked handcuff still hung from Brad’s left wrist and Laura nervously reached across the table to lock the other side around the table leg. She sat back down, hooked her hair behind one ear and chewed on her bottom lip, her big brown eyes blinking excitedly, “Sorry, just always wanted to do that to a guy.”

“Whoa,” Brad blew, his free hand reaching for the steel cage that contained his cock, “Fuck.”

“Did it get bigger?” Laura asked naively.

“It tried…”

Laura’s bubbling giggles filled the room as Brad stood up to disperse the feeling in his crotch, only for the handcuffs to rattle and pin his in place. Fuck! He adjusted himself again. The crushing sensation around his penis was surprisingly nice, although the cage now pulled against his balls.

Laura was completely besotted with Brad’s predicament, “I can’t believe that woman did this to you,” she exclaimed.

“You mean lock me up and take the key?” he smiled.

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled, “Do you want the handcuff key?”

“Depends where you’ve hidden it,” Brad joked, rearranging his crotch and focusing on his increasingly cute neighbour.

“Okay, I won’t retrieve it,” Laura giggled, her confidence returning, “I don’t want to damage anything… down there.”

Brad sat and rattled his hand, “I feel like I’m being interviewed by the police.”

Laura was struggling to control her buzzing body. She stood up, giggled again and sat down on the kitchen table next to the locked cuff.

Oh fuck, Brad’s cock was swelling as his neighbour’s cute round butt sat inches from his manacled hand, “Okay, let’s talk about something other than your body.”

“We weren’t talk about my body!” Laura exclaimed, secretly delighted by where Brad’s mind was wondering.

“What? Oh.”

Laura was a little disappointed that the handcuff key was only in her hand, but still enjoyed the tease as she unlocked her cute neighbour from his own kitchen table, “Maybe we can do this again when you have a penis?” she smiled as the red skirt swooshed up and left.

*

“Yes?” Brad answered eagerly as his phone rang.

“I see Laura let you out of the cuffs…” The mysterious woman’s silky, ultra-calm voice took Brad back to the night before, his cock swelling at her command.

“She couldn’t let me out of the chastity cage.”

The woman laughed, “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll give Laura that key one day?”

“Laura? Why Laura?”

“Westin… 1205… at 3,” she whispered before the line went dead.

*

The room cardkey was waiting for Brad at reception and he made his way up in the lift, unsure what he was going to find or how he would react. He unlocked the door to find the woman in the large ornate bathroom. She was dressed in a black knitted top, black leather shorts and ankle high boots. Her hands were cuffed together above her head with the cuffs looped around a large water pipe.

“Hi,” the woman whispered from behind large black sunglasses. She rattled her chains, “Guess you know how debilitating these can be…”

“I had to wait three hours for my poor neighbour to free me.”

With no handbag etiler escort in sight, Brad slipped his hands into the small pockets of her black leather shorts. The woman was trembling and breathing deeply as she thrust herself against his hands.

“I’m so glad you came,” she purred.

Brad kept searching her body until he found the handcuff key, which he quickly transferred to his own pocket. He then lifted her top to reveal her tiny waist and black bra which he quickly unclipped. The expensive lingerie fell free exposing hard nipples, pert breasts and an even more lustful woman.

“Fuck, where is the key to my cock?” Brad moaned, sitting on the edge of the bath, bent double with his cock aching.

The woman’s hips and legs were in perpetual motion, thrusting forward as he knelt before her and unbuttoned her high waisted shorts and fought to free them from her hips. They dropped down revealing dark pantyhose encircling tight black silk panties.

“Fuck, where is the key?” Brad breathed, his hands performing an intimate search until the woman’s familiar scent overcame him, and he sunk his lips into the front of her panties.

“Slip it out,” she breathed, her voice sounding desperate.

Brad stood at the basin and stared down at the steel cage as he ran cold water and body lotion through the bars. Finally, he managed to pull his cock out and it bounced above his dejected balls that were still caught in the metal device.

With the chastity cage still dangling comically from his testicles, Brad knelt back down in front of the chained woman.

“Please,” the woman trembled, her body trying to become one with Brad’s lips.

Her body had now choked any rational thought and he slid down her pantyhose and underwear and lapped at her vagina. The woman hung helplessly from her chains, willing her body against his. Brad stood up and wrapped his arms around her slim waist and pushed his erect cock against her.

She was now half swinging from the locked restraints as she wrapped her legs around his waist to thrust deeper. By the time they climaxed she was almost hysterical with sexual hormones, her legs still gripping tightly to his body.

“Wow,” Brad mouthed, unlocking the woman from her chains and carrying her gently to the bed.

She was smiling from behind her sunglasses as she rolled over to sit astride his waist, “Your turn in the cuffs…”

Brad knew it was madness to let this woman handcuff him, but he was strangely mesmerised and after a several minutes of kissing, he found himself almost magically handcuffed to the metal headboard, “That’s tight…” he gasped as the woman continued to ratchet him in.

Her fingers snaked around his cock as she bounced on him, his cock magically disappearing inside her warm body. It felt incredible with Brad floating as he thrust into her lithe supple body. Spent, he lay panting on the bed as the woman surreptitiously secured his ankles to the end of the bed with a second pair of cuffs.

“Please don’t leave me like this again,” Brad moaned, kicking himself for his stupidity.

“Housekeeping will free you…”

“No, please?” Brad mouthed as she started to redress. The black silk underwear snaked up her legs and snugged into place. The pantyhose followed, slowly and carefully, itself to be enclosed inside black leather shorts.

“My chastity key?” Brad asked hopefully.

The woman shook her head, long silky blonde hair swishing from side to side. She dropped down on to the bed next to him, her shorts nestling in cosily against his head. Brad looked up longingly as her breasts settled into her black bra and then disappeared inside her knitted black top.

“Time to put you away too…” she purred.

She slowly dripped lubricant on his erect cock as she squeezed him tightly between her hands. Brad managed to climax just before she forced him inside the cage. He looked up and smiled, only to be rewarded with a swing of her hips against his head.

The woman kağıthane escort then fetched her heavy handbag which clattered on to the bed. She pulled out a heavy ‘D’ shaped rigid bike lock and threaded it carefully around his neck. Brad’s eyes looked up inquiringly as she turned the key to lock it in place.

“Why?” he asked her.

She didn’t reply, instead pulled out a second lock.

“No, please,” he moaned, “The chastity cage is our secret, but how can I live with these?”

Her black leather shorts sunk back down on to his chest as she slid in the fifth bike lock and turned and removed the key. It was as if she had placed him in a high security neck brace with Brad’s head movement now restricted.

“We’ve made love five time,” she breathed, “Now you can’t forget.”

“My cock,” was all Brad could moan as the woman shuffled forward putting him into a schoolgirl pin with the mass of high security locks between her pantyhose clad legs.

“Smell my scent,” she whispered, “That’s all you can know about me.”

*

For the second time in a day, Brad had to calm a startled woman and plead with her to unlock his cuffs. The hotel maid had finally released him, but not before calling in two of her colleagues.

Brad grab a towel and wrapped it around his neck as he walked home, even more caught up in the crazy’s woman’s web than when he had started. The sex had been good though, and he smiled as he collapsed at home with a whiskey.

“Someone confuse you with a bike?” Laura laughed as Brad opened the door to her that evening.

“Don’t ask…” Brad replied, but then proceeded to tell her everything, at least everything but the sex.

“You look ridiculous,” she giggled, jangling his locks.

They ordered takeaway and then moved to the lounge where Brad lay down on his back on the rug to relieve the weight of the locks on his shoulders. Giddy with wine, Laura stepped closer and provocatively looked down at her intriguing neighbour.

Brad glanced at the long legs stretching up inside her red skirt, “Laura!” he moaned, clutching his aching crotch.

“Perfect way to stop you ogling me!” she giggled.

With her heartbeat taking her breath, Laura gingerly sat down astride Brad’s waist and leaned forward under the pretence of looking at the locks. Silky hair enclosed them both as she kissed his lips.

Brad kissed her back with his tongue pushing in between her red lips. Her touch was swelling his penis, which was now tormented by both the cage, and being trapped beneath Laura’s cheeks, and being pulled from side to side as her hips rolled.

Brad instinctive tried to sit up to hug her, but accidentally knocked the locks against Laura’s chin while half choking himself.

“Ouch,” she cried, sitting upright on top of his cage.

“Sorry, if I can just turn over…”

“No!” Laura replied, “You’re cute, but with no cock and these things stuck around your neck, I’m not sure you’re much of a catch.” She stood deliberately close to him as she smoothed her dress.

“No, please stay,” Brad gasped, struggling and clattering to his feet.

“Only if you take those things off, they look ridiculous.”

“I can’t!” Brad sighed, inexplicably obsessed with this woman who he had barely noticed before, “Can I buy you brunch in the morning?”

Laura looked unconvinced.

“Uber Eats?”

“Okay,” she replied, “but get some sleep and sort this shit out.”

Brad stepped in for one last kiss before Laura picked up her purse and left.

*

Back in her own apartment, Laura dropped her cool act and with wide eyes and giggles, rushed to open her purse. The keys to the bicycle locks had been in there ever since they had been dropped through her letterbox earlier that evening.

She wasn’t even sure why she hadn’t given them to Brad. It would have been so easy to unlock him and relieved his anguish, but for some reason she was getting a buzz from denying him his freedom. Maybe she was cross that he was entangled with the other woman or maybe she just enjoyed the power.

Maybe she would produce them from her bra, one at a time, every time he spoilt her and made her feel loved. Maybe she would place one in her lingerie, a prize waiting for him if he went down on her. But for now, her neighbour would be confined to his apartment with Laura the only other person to know his secret.

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If you met Lucy you would think she were a paragon of privileged and successful 21st Century woman. Stockbroker Belt upbringing, private school education, elite university, well connected friends. Now, still in her twenties she was well established as a rising star in a City law firm. Mergers and Acquisitions, global travel, private healthcare, gym membership, a flat in the Docklands, a stable boyfriend she had first met at law school with an equally well-paid job. Her world was ordered and civilized. She wore smart designer clothes to work and expensive gym wear when working out. She went to expensive restaurants, concerts, the theatre. Her friends were all sophisticated people. None of her male colleagues, whatever they might be thinking, would dream of making an overtly sexist comment, patting her on the bum, let alone objectifying her. Such things just didn’t happen these days.

So what was she doing, one chilly Saturday afternoon, walking down a busy Central London for her 2pm appointment with Master Kane to have her bottom spanked? What on earth indeed?

Her heart was pounding, her mouth dry as she focused on the numbers of the buildings. 275…277… finally, 279, she had it. An innocuous black door, with no name plate on it. That suited her. She didn’t want anyone, not even a stranger to know what she was up to. Glancing one final time up and down the street, paranoid she might be seen by someone she knew, she pressed the buzzer, gave her name, the door clicked and she pushed it open.

Once in she was faced with an innocuous foyer, a carpeted staircase with a few pot plants. No one about. Master Kane’s — what was it? Office? Studio? Salon? Was on the 6th floor, so she took the lift up. Her heart jumped as she entered and encountered a young smiling couple, about her age. They were headed to the financial adviser on the fourth floor. “Which number?” Said the man innocuously, Lucy gasped inwardly. “Five”, she lied, trying desperately to hide her ever growing embarrassment. The man smiled, he couldn’t know, could he? A gynaecologist, she saw on the plaque for the fifth floor. Oh well, better that than admit she was heading to the top floor to fulfil some perverted long held fetish. The couple got out at four, Lucy at five, thankfully no one was there. She walked past the gynaecologist’s office and saw a door at the end of the landing marked 6th floor. She pushed through it and immediately the tone changed from the rest of the building.

She faced a narrow staircase. The walls were cherry red rather than the muted whites and greys of the rest of the building, and on each side were high resolution black and white framed pictures in the style of Helmut Newton, of attractive young women in suggestive positions: one bending over and touching her ankles, head down, skirt raised and bottom bared awaiting the application of a cane. Another dressed in a slutty pastiche of office wear, tight mini skirt and frilly blouse, bending over her boss’s knee receiving a sound spanking. A third standing completely naked, facing a wall, with her hands on her head and her legs slightly apart, baring freshly reddened bottom cheeks.

Lucy’s well attuned mind, the rational side of her brain, told her this was obscene. A modern, educated, 20th Century woman, who assumed as birthright absolute equality with everyone around her. But her deeper subconscious had led her towards this. An accumulation of events had piqued her curiosity: an A level Art lesson featuring an Etruscan fresco of a woman being flagellated, the late night tipsy confession of a friend who confessed her boyfriend had spanked her and she enjoyed it, various articles in Cosmopolitan and on the web. I can’t go my whole life without ever finding out, she thought. She would go in, go through with it, and that would be that. Curiosity satisfied. Probably find it was a sordid and underwhelming experience anyway.

She reached the top of the stairs and was faced by a black desk, behind which was a middle-aged woman in a formal grey suit, her hair tied in a bun, looking like a receptionist in an old fashioned hotel.

“I’m here for my two o’clock appointment”, said Lucy, having mustered all the calm she could manage, as if she were an old hand at this sort of thing and a spot of spanking was a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon activity after shopping and before evening drinks.

“I see,” said the receptionist, rifling through a strangely anachronistic looking card index, “with Master Kane”.

“Yes” said Lucy quietly, involuntary, she could sense her head bowing. Little did Lucy know that Master Kane was the only spanker who operated from these premises. The receptionist was a friend of his who he employed to add to the ritual and embarrassment for the ladies who came to visit.

Lucy had done extensive research as to what options were available for a young woman in London looking to have her secret kinky fantasies met. She was scrupulous to avoid anything dangerous, dodgy men who could cause her harm and would not respect taksim escort things she knew about the scene — safewords and the like. Master Kane’s website suggested he was a good looking spanker, experienced in his craft, and featured positive reviews from a range of women who had used his services in the past. He seemed like a man she could trust to deliver this experience.

“Four hundred pounds please.”

Not wanting this payment to appear on her bank statement she pulled out notes from her purse and put them on the desk. The rational side of her brain kicked in again. This is ridiculous, she thought. Me, of all people, paying some pervy man to spank my bottom. She thought of the male colleagues in her office, especially the handsome senior partner. If they knew what I wanted they would gladly pay me multiple times this amount for the privilege, she reflected ruefully. But then she also knew from her work, that if you wanted the best service you had to be prepared to pay a professional top whack to deliver it.

“In you go Lucy”, said the receptionist. Did Lucy detect an imperceptible smirk on her lips and the suggestion of a raised eyebrow as she went in?

She pushed the door marked ‘Master Kane’s Study’ and was greeted by a smartly dressed man in a dark suit and white shirt, just like the one in the pictures on the staircase on the way up. His study was modest sized and looked fairly minimalist. After taking in Master Kane’s appearance — he lived up to the promise of the images his the website — Lucy took in the furniture which was a mish mash. A brown sofa on one side of the room, with a low wooden stool in front of it. Next to that a low-lying black leather bench, on the other side an armless chair with a black seat. Lucy clocked it as a Mart Starm, she fetishized it somewhat as she contemplated the prospect of taking her spanking over a classic of 1930s Bauhaus design rather than something cheap from Homebase or Ikea.

“Good afternoon Lucy,” said Master Kane calmly in a low, polite voice with the reassuring tones of a doctor or vet. “So you’ve come to get what you need.” Lucy’s haughtiness at the reception had receded a little. She liked what she saw. Master Kane was certainly good looking — forty something with dark hair, greying at the temples. His body was clearly in good shape beneath that well cut suit.

“I guess so,” said Lucy, her heart in her mouth.

“Let’s establish some core rules,” said Master Kane calmly but firmly. You have agreed to come here to receive a spanking. For this you will follow my commands without question. You will receive spankings over your clothes, knickers and bare bottom. You will refer to me as “Sir” at all times. If you forget this you will receive extra discipline which will become apparent. No sex at all. Do you understand me so far?”

“Yes…sir” trembled Lucy. Acting out the part of a submissive spankee was completely new to her.

‘Your session here, will of course remain strictly confidential. None of your friends, colleagues or family will ever know about it. If you want to stop at any time, use your preferred safeword and I will stop immediately. Is that clear.

“Yes,” mumbled Lucy,

“Yes…?” replied Master Kane, questioningly

“Yes sir”, said Lucy abruptly, remembering the command.

“That is your first transgression, you will be punished for that later. Now, what is your preferred safeword. It should be short, clear, but not “stop”, women when they are being spanked by me often blurt out stop when they don’t really mean it.

“Red, Sir”, replied Lucy. She knew about safewords from her reading of Fifty Shades of Grey and various Cosmopolitan articles. Not an original choice, she knew, but something esoteric felt too awkward to her.

Master Kane smiled a half smile.

“Right,” he said, ‘tell me Lucy, do you have any further questions before we begin.”

“No sir”, said Lucy.

“Good,” said Master Kane calmly, “let’s begin. Firstly remove your coat’.

Trembling a little, Lucy removed the dark wool coat she was wearing and handed it to Master Kane. Underneath she was wearing a blouse, a plain merino jumper, a skirt that came down to just above her knee, tights, and plain black shoes. Ever since she had arranged her appointment with Master Kane she was fretting about how to dress for this experience, and this was the best approximation of a spankee’s outfit she could come up with without looking too conspicuous on the tube.

Master Kane hung Lucy’s coat on the door hook, and motioned towards the footstool on the other side of the room.

“Go and stand on the stool,” he said, completely calm, in a deep, firm voice.

Meekly, Lucy walked across to the stool and did as she was told.

“Put your hands behind your back,”

Lucy did so.

“Tell me Lucy, exactly how you feel right now.”

“Nervous, sir,” replied Lucy.

“Anything else?”

“A bit ridiculous, sir”. Lucy felt her beyoğlu escort cheeks reddening as she stood on the stool, which was small and required concerted effort not to fall off. It was almost comic. A spanking, she had expected, and was braced for, but not this preliminary ritual which disorientated her.

“You may well feel ridiculous,” replied Master Kane. “But consider this Lucy, I have been lenient with you for this introduction. You are still fully clothed. Your modesty is fully protected. How would you feel if you were not wearing your clothes?”

Lucy twisted her lips as she contemplated this prospect. “Worse…” she replied.

“Worse SIR’ said Master Kane, raising his voice slightly, ‘that is two transgressions now Lucy, believe me you will be punished for these.”

“How would you feel Lucy…” he went on, “If you were standing just in your panties. Or even…” he paused, “completely naked”.

Lucy gasped. She had never been used to considering her body in this way. She had, of course been naked in bed with her boyfriend, but that – if not exactly furtive, was a pretty functional experience. Vanilla sex was not without its erotic sensations but it was private, informal and cosy. Lucy had never in all her life been put on display like this, with her body, her clothes, her modesty talked about explicitly and fetishized in this way.

But of course, this is exactly what she was curious to experience. As she felt her cheeks flush with shame, she also sensed her crotch beginning to moisten.

“I would feel exposed sir.” Lucy said in a quiet voice,

“Speak up,”

“Exposed sir, put on display.” Replied Lucy a little more assertively.

“Good. Now Lucy, tell me exactly why you have come here.”

“I want to be spanked sir.” For the first time in her life, she was articulating a desire out loud to this man, in whom she was placing her complete trust. If only her sophisticated friends — feminist and civilised to the core, could see this.

“And why does a young woman such as yourself come to a place like this to be spanked”.

“I want to experience what it is like sir,” said Lucy, feeling like she was withdrawing further from her normal state and entering into a submissive girl mindset.

Master Kane walked calmly over to the Mart Starm chair at the other side of the room — so she was going to get the Bauhaus treatment. Lucy remained standing awkwardly on the stool, hands behind her back, taking in Master Kane’s calm, assured movements that were in complete contrast to her own. She was relieved he was somewhat older than her — in his forties, she estimated. To submit to someone her own age wouldn’t work, she felt. She could see he was wearing a well-cut expensive suit and shoes. These things reassured Lucy. He sat down slowly on the chair and patted his taught, muscular thigh.

‘Now Lucy, step down from the stool, and come across my lap’.

Lucy’s steps across the room towards Master Kane, seated on the chair, seemed to take minutes. She sensed his presence and his masculine scent looming as she walked towards him, obeying his command, and then lowered herself carefully across his lap, acutely aware there was no dignified way of completing this action. She felt the heft of Master Kane’s muscular thighs on her stomach as she rested across him, placing her hands on the floor, splaying her fingers out slightly for balance as if presenting for a press up.

She was breathing steadily as she steadied herself.

“Perfect”, said Master Kane. Lucy trilled inwardly that she was presented to his satisfaction. So this is what assuming the position felt like.

Time seemed to last for ever. Then she felt the firm hand of Master Kane on her left bottom cheek, firmly cupping it, over her skirt, her pert flesh yielding to his touch, then the right cheek, she gulped.

Then.

Four moderate hand spanks, two on each cheek

“Ow”‘ Lucy gasped, indignant at the way she could feel her bottom, this most intimate place, yielding beneath her skirt.

“This is just a warm up Lucy,” said Master Kane, without changing his voice,

More spanks. Lucy could feel the firmness of his spanks increasing, alternating between each cheek, with occasional rubs and massages in between, across the fabric of her skirt. But it felt good. She was right about this long-held fantasy, she did need it. She could feel herself letting go of her poised and controlled self, submitting and relaxing over the lap of this man, entering what she had read about — subspace.

After fifty or so spanks, Master Kane stopped.

“Stand up.” He said.

Lucy complied. Dammit, she thought, I am becoming aroused by this. What is going on?

“Put your hands on your head”.

Lucy did so.

“How do you feel now Lucy”.

“A little sore sir”, said Lucy

“Is that all?”

“Sore and…” dare she admit it…”sore and confused sir”.

“Hmmmmm” said Master Kane. beşiktaş escort “You are into this I see”.

“Lift your skirt.”

Lucy did so. She was tantalised, in the moment, breathless with anticipation at the way Master Kane was commanding her.

“Further.”

Lucy lifted her skirt completely until it revealed the entirety of her legs, sheathed in her tights.

“Now take it off and pass it to me.”

Lucy unhooked the waist clip, tentatively removed her skirt, and handed it over.

“Remove your shoes.”

Lucy could see this would be difficult. “I’ll…fall off the stool sir.”

“Concentrate and you’ll manage.”

With difficulty, focusing on every move, Lucy retained her balance, like a delicate flamingo, poising on one leg, then the other, while she removed her shoes.

‘Pass your shoes to me.” Meekly, Lucy handed them over.

“Now take off your tights.”

Lucy applied her hands to her waistband and slowly rolled her tights down her legs, removing them over her feet while Master Kane kept holding up the hem of her skirt.

“Pass your tights to me.” As Master Kane said this Lucy could feel his gaze on her increasingly displayed crotch area. “My now, that is a, shall we say, utilitarian pair of panties.”

They were indeed. For this crossing of the Rubicon in her sex life, presenting her bottom to a stranger for a spanking, Lucy had given more thought to what knickers would be appropriate than any other part of her outfit. This was truly a journey out of her comfort zone. She was accustomed to paying attention to the outside clothes — Jigsaw suits, Ted Baker jackets – suitable for her professional life. Not the underwear, which up to this point had remained functional. Her boyfriend would have liked her to wear something lacier, sexier, but he was far too polite and reserved to say so.

She had considered a range of options from her normal black knickers, to buying a pair of ‘regulation’ schoolgirl type knickers, to a bikini. None quite seemed right. In the end she had opted for a pair of silver-grey Calvin Klein workout briefs which rode high on her hips, leaving little to the imagination, but encased her bottom and pubic mound snugly and showed them to good effect.

An unforeseen benefit, which she was now appreciating, was that they were made of advanced wicking material which was absorbing the arousal from her pussy that was beginning to glisten.

“Now your jumper.”

Lucy did so, feeling the merino wool crackle as she pulled it over her hair. She was alert to every sensation now.

“And your blouse”.

Lucy had to concentrate on steading her fingers as she unbuttoned her blouse and removed it to reveal a plain grey bra which covered her small but firm breasts. She felt goosebumps across her skin as she handed the final item to Master Kane.

Now she was standing before him, in just her underwear, with the redness on her bottom cheeks spreading out from beneath her knickers from the warm up spanking.

Master Kane took the clothes without comment and took them over to the desk, where he put them in a drawer, folding them carefully as he did so. The distance between Lucy and her clothes accentuated her feelings of vulnerability. She could not easily retrieve them. What next?

“Back over my lap”.

Lucy felt herself assuming the position again, now protected only by her bra and knickers. She felt like she was entering into a deeper submissive zone that was beyond her common-sense expectations.

“Mmmmm, your bottom is reddening nicely,” said Master Kane. Lucy shifted her hips across his thigh, writing slightly at this repeated focus on her erogenous zone.

The spanks continued. Longer than the first spanking over her skirt. Seventy five spanks or so over the gossamer thin veneer of her briefs. Her bottom was becoming warmer and warmer. She felt her helplessness as it wobbled and jiggled before Master Kane’s gaze as she held her position over his knee and she could feel pain, heat and arousal radiating outwards into other parts of her body.

Eventually, the spanking stopped and Lucy felt two of Master Kane’s fingers slip under the elastic of her now dishevelled briefs as they crossed her bottom cheeks. She moaned slightly. If he had continued and slipped his fingers into her pussy it would have yielded immediately. But he merely rearranged the elastic on the bottom of her knickers back into place.

“Now Lucy, For the next part of your punishment you will receive further spanks in the nude. Stand up and remove your bra and panties.”

Lucy felt flushed, and aroused like never before. The theatre of this step by step undressing process was tormenting her. How many thousands of times she had removed her underwear as routine, without thinking of it, but now she was focused completely on her increasing nakedness and exposure. The use of the word ‘panties’ — it made her feel silly, oversexualised, girly. She unclipped her bra, and removed it, then put her hands to the waistband of her briefs and slipped them down her legs.

“More slowly,”

“Yes sir.”

Down came her panties.

“Hand them to me”.

Lucy did so. Gosh, he can see everything now, she thought, covering her modesty with her hands while Master Kane removed her underwear to the same drawer as her other clothes.

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“On my count,” Victoria paused, and then glanced at me, “three… two, one.” both keys were turned simultaneously.

Victoria slid the semi-heavy box out and set it on her left palm, supporting its weight.

“Mr. McFerrin, we have a private room where you can view the contents of your box.” she informed me. I slid the box from her hands and then she turned toward the vault door.

“Follow me,” she said, glancing at me with a waiting smile.

When she turned her head, I looked down at the sexy, black lines of her stockings. They followed the length of her legs, disappearing up into her knee-high skirt, as I watch her sway with a confident walk, leading the way.

We walked down a short hallway and entered a small room. Victoria held the unmarked, black door open and I walked by her taking in the sweet scent of her perfume. I set the box down onto the built-in table and then turned to look at her, standing in the opening of the door.

“Take as long as you like, Mr. McFerrin, there’s no rush,” she stated clearly, in a business tone.

Her hip was shifted to one side, revealing the slit of her skirt on her right thigh. It had caught my eye for the first time and I struggled to look up into her eyes.

“Thank you, Victoria.” I said, calmly making eye contact, “Will you please return in 15 minutes?” I wanted to pull the clip from her brown hair, tightly curling my fingers into the soft strands. “I’d like to place some of the contents back into the safe, the rest I will keep in my possession.” I told her, pulling the chair out from under the table, as I removed my jacket, laying it over its backrest.

“Of course,” Victoria gave a quick nod, and then pulled the handle to the door, closing me in the small, nicely-lit room.

I could feel the heat trapped behind my white, button-down shirt. Removing it, I laid it over my jacket thinking that 15 minutes was to long, but I needed that time to collect my thoughts. I unbuckled my belt, letting it hang in the loops that held it. Turning toward the box, I lifted the lid and removed the contents. Sometime had passed and then the sound at the door came. I turned walked to the door and pressed my ear to the frame. “Yes?” I said.

“It’s Victoria, Mr. McFerrin.” she spoke from beyond the door.

I opened it slowly. “Come in,” I spoke quietly. Victoria’s warm eyes explored my partly exposed body and then met my gaze, as I waited for her to enter.

She stepped in and dropped her purse on the floor by the door, never taking her eyes off me. I closed the door behind her, bringing my body tightly against hers. Pressing her against the door, I heard it latch and without a word, I locked us in the small private room. Her lip began to tremble after she felt me grab her hands, the cold metal-cuffs I’d held in my hand clicked repeatedly, now like bracelets around her small wrists.

“Did you do as I asked?” the look in my eye caused her to shudder, as I brought her wrists up between us, pulling them above her head.

“Yes, Sir,” she softly responded, while I set the link between the cuffs onto the hook, mounted on the back of the door.

“Good girl,” my hands went to her blouse, cupping her breasts. “Spread your legs,” I instructed, unbuttoning each button to her blouse until I could see the white lace of her bra.

“Yes, Sir,” she bit her lip, after speaking the words. Her legs moved quickly, but only as far as her skirt would allow.

“Oh, let me help you with that.” I teased, and gecelik escort jerked her skirt up roughly, making her catch her breath. My cock twitched seeing her pussy exposed and uncovered.

My fingertip went to the junction between the cups of her bra. I tugged at the clasp and felt it snap in my fingers, releasing it. My hands brushed the laced bra to the sides, exposing the soft skin of her shapely breasts. Her nipples were hard; the color of dark chocolate, and her skin was peppered with goose bumps.

“You’ve been such a good girl all week. I think that I’ll reward you now, instead of later tonight.” I nibbled the soft skin under her breast and watched her shake, from the thoughts that were running through her head.

“Right now? Here…? But-” she stammered.

“Did I ask you to speak?” my jaw clenched, as I trapped her nipple between my fingers and pinched, hard enough to stop her voice.

“Ooohhh, no Sir.” Victoria gasped.

“Don’t say another word or I’ll make you wait another week.” My cock flinched at the threat, knowing that it would be just as hard for me as it would be for her.

“Yes Sir.” she answered

I release her nipple and captured the fullness of her breast in the same hand, and then licked the taut nipple with my tongue. “Good girl,” I whispered, pulling away, as I knelt down before her.

My fingers traced down her ribs until they reached her bunched up skirt. “Further apart,” I instructed.

Victoria looked down at me, hanging helplessly from her hand cuffs. If it hadn’t been for the three inch heels she’d worn, she would’ve been on her tip toes. Her beautiful body trembled, as her soft panting brought her ribs out and back, waiting for me to give her what she desperately wanted.

I leaned inward and grazed the soft, shaved skin of her mound with my tongue. She had placed a hint of my favorite perfume above the folds of her lips. Sandalwood, vanilla and a small breeze-like scent of the ocean, mixed with the sweet scent of her wetness.

“Ohh…” she whimpered above me, as I looked up at her with a satisfied smile.

“Trying to please me,” I licked her again, “…with that perfume, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Yes Sir, I love pleasing you.” Victoria eyes darkened with desire, as I rubbed my nose against the smooth skin of her mound, exhaling my warm breath and leaving a trail of goose bumps in it’s wake.

“It does, my little pet. It does,” my approval was obvious, as I licked my lips.

I rewarded her for the effort and sank my tongue in between the folds of her pussy. Wet, sweet, and so swollen with need, I began to lick her without hesitation. Circle after circle my tongue moved, the pink bud of her sex leaping out at my tongue. Her breath became rapid, as I heard the handcuffs scratch against the hook on the door.

“Would you like my fingers?” I captured her clit in my teeth, giving her a pinch of pain, and then released it, licking it once, as I looked up into her wanting eyes.

“Uhh, yes…Siiiir,” she moaned low and deep.

Victoria’s body jolted above me and I felt my cock throb. The memory of the hot and wet center of her pussy, had my cock pressed up against the zipper of my slacks. My first two fingers slid into her weeping channel, as she squeezed around them tightly. My free hand went into my slacks and I held my cock firmly, resisting the urge to take her.

“Mmm,” growling under my breath, her hips began to buck, sınırsız escort as she started to hold her breath, giving way to small short gasps. “You may cum, my pet.” I whispered hotly into her open folds, watching my sliding fingers roughly take her. I looked up at her beautiful mouth, gaped open with short pants passing through it. I leaned forward and began to thrash my tongue at just the right place, waiting for her to release.

The hook began to bend, slightly bending downward, her legs were now weak. Her head hung between her straightened arms, as her eyes rolled back with the lids covering them slowly. The rush of her breath stopped for what seemed like minutes until it began again. She pierced her teeth into the bottom of her lip, fighting the loud moan that would surely make her presences known. Dangling from the cuffs, she shook with intensity as her white, hot cream, flowed over my tongue.

“Ohh, thank you, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” she blurted out with an almost painful-like sound, her voice whimpering and whining.

“Mmm, that’s my girl,” I praised, licking my lips with a growl. “My pussy is so delicious.” I breathed against her flexing little pink bud as she came.

I slowed my fingers, easing them from her grasp and then rubbed them against her pussy causing her to jolt from my touch. I came to my feet and brought my wet fingers up in front of her, “Open,” feeding them to her as I looked into her glazed eyes, her eager mouth sucking and pulling them in.

I smiled enjoying the limp look of her body as she hung there for my eyes to see, her nipples still hard, spilling from her blouse and her skirt up over her hips, waiting for the next thing I had in mind. Time was short now, I only had a few minutes before we’d hear a knock at the door, even though I was far from being done with her.

I zipped my cock back up into my pants and watched the disappointed look on her face and I fastened the belt. I turned and pulled my favorite black butt plug from the lock box and turned toward her with a wicked smile. Her face was one of shock, as she tried to keep her gasp from leaving her lips by holding her breath. I knelt down before her and looked up at her, as I stuck my fingers back inside her pussy.

“I am far from being done with you, my little pet,” rubbing her g-spot with my two fingers with an aggressive pressure that had her grunting, her body still wanting more. She began to whimper and then I released my hold on her, rubbing her essence over the tight entrance that I planned to torture. “You will wear this until you arrive home, but no touching between now and then. Is that understood?” I asked her and took that same moment to press it slowly at the entrance, easing it into her while she struggled to focus on my eyes and words.

“Uhh, uhh, Yes… Sir..Ye-” she suddenly stopped, unable to form the words as the plug finished it’s penetration, settling into her tightened area, locking into place.

“Mmm, good girl,” I said, as I lightly kissed her clit, flicking it a few times with my tongue, purely to see her jump, still feeling the affect from her previous orgasm. “When you arrive home, be in your place, waiting for me.” Victoria knew where that was, it was in the middle of the living room floor with her face down and her nude body ready for me.

I yanked her skirt down, covering her wet pussy, knowing that her thighs would be soaked as her release would continue to flow as she walked. I reached tesettürlü escort for her bra, clicked it, and then pulled her breasts back into the cups that held them. A few buttons and it was as if I had never touched her, her blouse closed up and back into its professional manner.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” she finally said on a more stable voice.

I pulled her handcuffs from the hook above her head and released her. She turned and slowly bent down, trying to grab her purse, feeling the affects of the plug that she now held. Before she could straighten, my hand landed on her ass, “Back to work, be a good girl now,” I ordered, as she straightened with a jerk. “remember… no touching.”

“Ohh,” she stood quickly, “Yes, Sir.” as she placed her purse under her arm and then unlocked the door, turning the handle.

I heard her exhale deeply, an obvious sound of her gathering her thoughts before going back to the front desk of the bank. She turned and looked at me before exiting with a ‘I don’t want to leave’ look and then smiled as I began to put my jacket on, buttoning it with a satisfied grin. The door latched and I closed the lock box and picked it up, leaving the private room shortly after.

I walked up to the front desk and approached Victoria, now standing in her place behind the counter, helping a woman as she handed her a piece of printed paper and said thank you. Victoria’s face was flush, her hair not quite right, but she was doing her best to look as though nothing had happened. I on-the-other-hand held my briefcase in front of my lap, concealing my hardened cock, wanting to leap the counter and take her, but was enjoying the torment of her having to wait for me, knowing I was going to take her in many different ways, when she came home.

The other woman left the counter and she looked up at me. “Are you ready to return your lock box Mr. Mcferrin?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“Yes, thank you.” I simply replied as I watched her walk around from behind the front desk. Her confident walk replaced by one that I hadn’t seen yet.

“Right this way, Sir.” she returned, and walked carefully before me, leading the way back into the large vault.

We arrived at the section with the open slot where my box was housed, she turned and grabbed the box laying in my arm while glancing down at the appearance of my cock trapped behind the zipper of my slacks, unshielded by my briefcase.

She nearly dropped the box as she tried to retrieve it from me. “Do you have my key, Miss?” I asked trying to break her stare and fixation.

“Yes, Sir.” she said almost in a whimper, finally turning her eyes away as she slid the lock box back into it’s hiding place, shutting the metal doorway closing it in. She pulled the keys from her suit jacket and gave me one while she held the other, placing it at the mouth of the key hole, waiting for me to do the same.

I leaned into her shoulder, a little closer and sighed with a soft growl, pressing my cock into the side of her thigh watching her lick her lips, obviously still tasting her juices on her tongue, as I brought my key up to meet hers, in the opposite key slot.

“Three, two… one,” she struggled to say as our keys turned at the same time.

“Thank you Victoria,” I said, pulling my key from it’s slot, as I slowly brought my hand down to my pocket, her wanting eyes following it, as I slid my hand in slowly, her eyes bat intently.

“You’re welcome, Sir,” she said with a gulp, and then brought her eyes back up to meet mine. “anything else we can do, just let us know.”

“I will, have a pleasant day.” and with that I pulled the briefcase in front of me and stepped away from her, turning to leave. I left her standing behind me as I passed the large vault door, and the exited the building without a backward glance.

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

In this world there is no one else, there is only you – my god, my master, my keeper. My own self falls away, I am devoid of a name, of an identity, of a person. I am transformed, I am elevated to pure energy, I become my true shadow-shape. You whisper into my ear and pour me into the mould of your desire. Sometimes I think I could disappear forever beyond the velvet edge of my meditation, sometimes I think I could fall and cascade into deeper levels of relinquishment. In the farthest realms of our play, I have found myself peering into that place, and blinded by the light of my adoration for you, I have stepped toward the edge. Sometimes it is you who pulls me back and sometimes it is I who wakes and flees the edge, but it is always like coming out of a trance, and, reunited with my body, I feel heavy.

Tonight you ask me for my voice. Unsheathing your penis from your pants, you tell me to put my mouth on it. I am on my knees as you stand over me. It is a blessing to receive you in my mouth and I am not ungrateful. I worship you, a priestess to her god, and after licking from beneath your testicles to the tip of your head, I close my lips around you, taking you deeply, filling myself with you. You fit as though we were made from the same stone and then broken apart. I press my tongue against your shaft. My motions are slow and deliberate, ritualistic, precise, and thorough. I dare not take a wrong step at your altar, I dare not shame my god that way.

You place a firm hand on the back of my head and tell me to pause, yet keep my mouth open. I obey, merely an orifice to receive you. You pull yourself out completely and then slowly reenter. As you continue into my throat, my instinct is to draw away, but your hand holds my head still. You tell me to put my hands behind my back and I fold my arms as you command. My lips are now pressed against your body, you have taken me completely. I resist the urge to gag, I struggle to breathe, but I am not permitted to move. Tears wet my eyes in discomfort and I begin to fall away, the darkness begins to envelope me in soft liberation. You tell me to look you in the eyes. I behold you.

“Your mouth is mine, your throat is mine, and your voice is mine,” you say. “If you utter one sound, the consequences will be great.”

You place your task upon me as you release my head and pull back, strings of saliva draping from my lips to your head. I gasp, catching my breath, but make no other noise. I have no voice. It is yours. To let any utterance creep from my throat would be defiance. And more than I fear your punishment or disappointment, I cannot bear to fail you, to fail myself, to disobey you. My adoration is great and I shall complete my worship.

“Do you understand?” you say.

I nod.

“I want you to look at me at all times, even if I am not looking at you.”

I nod again, my gaze still locked with yours, my mouth still open, ready for you. You clasp my chin with your thumb bahçeşehir escort on my tongue. “You are beautiful.” I cannot help the smile that comes awkwardly to the corners of my lips around my open mouth. You stare deeply into my eyes, your own hard and searching. My throat tightens to form words of gratitude, but I refrain and you smile, reading my near mistake in my eyes. “Good girl.”

Your approval delivers me. My ecstasy manifests itself between my bare legs.

You release my chin and tenderly push my mouth closed. You kneel down beside me, gathering my hair in one hand, exposing the back of my neck, which you firmly massage with your other hand, pressing your thumb and index finger down along either side of my vertebrae. The sensation sends chills down my spine, and I swallow the moan that rises from my depths. My breath quickens, shallows. I keep my eyes on your face as you examine my back. You move behind me, I can still see you out of the corner of my eye, and with both hands, you massage my shoulders with skilled pressure. I stretch my body out for you, pursing my lips against the sounds of pleasure in my throat. I know that you know my voice is one of my greatest sensual and primal indulgences. And I know that’s why you have taken it now, to see if I can yield my pleasure to yours, to see if I can control myself as much as you can control me.

You move your hands down my back, firmly easing out the tension in my muscles, as if pressing air or liquid out from beneath some surface. Your touch is rapturous, it is the hand of a god admiring his creation, of a master admiring his slave, of a keeper admiring his possession. You tell me to spread my legs as your hands round my buttocks, caressing the supple flesh.

I am on tiptoes of desire, of a sexuality driven more and more wild by your slow, deliberate touch. I feel myself falling backwards with arms outstretched into an ocean of warm velvet water. The water fills in around me as I go under.

One hands creeps under my body to grasp my mound as the other yanks my hair. I grit my teeth, but no sound escapes me apart from my breath. With your middle finger you rub my clitoris circularly, igniting the heat between my legs, drawing the blood and moisture to my vagina. Everything falls to the pit of sex in my abdomen. I squirm, but remain desperately silent. Your index and ring finger peel apart my lips, as if exposing the flesh of some succulent fruit. I close my eyes tightly as I feel your middle finger release my clitoris, stroke the opening of my vagina, and then slowly – so agonizingly slowly – penetrate me.

I feel my whole self rise, arching in the water, electrified, and I quickly pull myself back down into a trembling silence before my voice breaks my lips, before the animal of my body betrays my mind’s hold.

You withdraw your finger. You grab me around my breasts, pulling on one of my nipples as sultangazi escort you place your finger to my lips. I can smell my sex, it is a hot sweet scent. You shove your finger past my lips and I taste myself. I suckle your finger, cleaning myself off of you. You now pull my other nipple, harder than the first. I buck slightly against you and I can feel your erection against my buttocks. You kiss the side of my neck, you bite my ear lobe.

You whisper, “Not a sound, not a single sound.”

How could I forget? The growls, the whimpers, the moans force themselves against the backs of my teeth. I strangle myself with silence and the denial of my voice only makes me want to scream more.

You release me all together and tell me to position myself on my hands and knees at the edge of the bed. I do so and you immediately place your erection in my mouth as you undo your belt. I am reconnected with your eyes, which I stare widely into. I try not to look at the belt as you fold it in half, establishing a firm grip on it. I know what it is going to happen and I can feel my vagina throb with blood, my labia swelling at the mere thought of the exquisite lines of fire you are about to open on my skin. The anticipation is accompanied by an even greater terror at the cries that will threaten to destroy my perfect obedient silence.

The leather cracks across my back, and I swallow your penis to force the scream back into my stomach. You strike me again, and I gag, but make no sound. I release you long enough to fill my lungs with air, then take you again, just as another lash brightens my skin. I know you can see the struggle in my eyes, I know you can see the pain and the longing, and you return my gaze with only a stern regard. Again and again you hit me, and again and again I am grateful for your erection in my throat, corking the cries of pain, the cries of pleasure that flood it.

You drop the belt, grabbing my hair instead, and force yourself to the hilt in my mouth, your other hand cupping my neck. I squirm, choking, my eyes panicked. You let me go, you tell me to turn around, I do not hesitate to obey you. You force me down on my elbows, raising my rear for greater access. You strike my vulva with your hand. I suck in a breath, grabbing the sheets.

As I struggle to maintain my silence I begin to disengage from my body, to move farther and farther away from the jolts of electricity you send through me with each touch, be it gentle or violent. I sink deeper into a velvet tunnel which closes in around me as I submerge myself in it. After all – what is my body anymore? It is simply an organ, it reacts upon instinct, it is my mind that submits, it is my mind that wants this, it is my mind that transcends my flesh, it is my mind that empowers me through your careful manipulation.

You alternate between strikes and strokes and the sensations whirl into one intense pulse between başakşehir escort my legs. I imagine the folds of my sex glistening with heated wetness, inflamed with desire and with pain.

And then, oh sweet sir, you take me. You give no warning, you give no precursor, you give no time for me to shore up my strength against the scream that rises from the very primal depths of my being. My submission, however, is greater, and my mind is more powerful, and I do not make a sound, not a single utterance. My body tenses around you. You tell me to release. My orgasm is immediate, shaking me, almost wresting a whimper from my lips, but I catch it, I swallow it, I grab the sheets more tightly. I have become full of light, I have become radiant, I have become perfect.

You stop and hurriedly tell me to roll onto my back as you climb onto the bed. I wordlessly do so, spreading my legs, preparing my altar for your blessing. You take me again, pressing my legs back to either side of my head, curling my body up to receive you better. You thrust into me deeply and mercilessly, and I am invigorated by the violence of your desire. We are two pieces fitted to one another, we are complete, we are as we were meant to be. My eyes are locked on yours, and I shrink at the intensity in them. Your face is creased with concentration, the sweat drips from your brow and falls onto my lips. I am too mesmerized by your eyes to notice. I am in a trance of silent submission.

I grip your arms, I want to connect to every part of me to you. I am alive with energy, I am alive with the energy you are transferring to me, and it passes between us, rising and falling, filling us both with light. I am absorbing you, I am receiving you. Every thrust falls deeper and deeper into me, touching the spot of life light inside. It blazes, consuming you, consuming us. I am ravenous to scream. The orgasm rises inside of me, drawing my muscles to a point. But I make no sound, and again I am falling falling falling into a place of suspended darkness, my body rising even as it sinks.

Caught between two greatly opposing desires, I withdraw. The light is so bright that I take a step back, perhaps to fall to the ground in total and complete adoration of my perfect god. I can no longer remember who I am or where I came from, only that I am here before you and that my knees are weak to yield to you. Suddenly I have no throat with which to make a sound, in fact, I have no body. I am drifting, I am untethered, the dark velvet waters are pulling me farther and farther out into an unknown sea.

You kiss my forehead as I falter at the edge. I come up gasping for air. You tell me what a good girl I have been, my heart soars, and then you tell me to scream.

I do. I scream your name, I scream my gratitude, and it is a delightfully violent return to my body. The orgasm rolls through me like an earthquake. You throw your head back to moan as you shudder through your own release.

A smile creeps across my face as we lock eyes again. You return the smirk. I know you could see me hovering at the edge only moments ago, I know you intentionally drove me to it, and I know you pulled me back just as I called you back from your own edge, a delicate tug-o-war.

In that way we are perfect.

You and I – we are perfect.

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

Majorly revised. It has an ending now, for one thing. I hope readers like it more. Sorry wasn’t better from the start.

On Being Told I Am Not Interesting

The stupid photographer said I was not interesting. Stupid jerk. So superior and snooty.

I am over six feet tall, I have blonde hair down to the middle of my back and a good figure. How could he say I was not interesting? I tossed my bag down onto the couch and stalked the apartment, feeling like I needed to do something and not knowing what. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. There was nothing for me to do that I had seen other people do to deal with their anger, and I sure as heck was not going to break anything.

I don’t cuss either. Did cussing make girls interesting? I had never thought so, and I spent a lot of time with girls. From the time I was a young teen, I knew I was a lesbian. That is interesting, isn’t it? I could tell him about the 127 girls; then he wouldn’t think I wasn’t interesting. Or maybe he would. Tall blonde lesbians probably floated out of his studio everyday. That was interesting, I thought. I plopped on the couch and felt sorry for myself as I pulled a pillow to my chest and pouted. What did he know?

Bill was not coming over. He was out playing in some honky tonk later. He expected me to join him, but I just wasn’t sure I could get myself together to be the adoring girlfriend. Yes, girlfriend. After nine years of dedicated homosexuality, I had a boyfriend. None of my old friends could believe it. My parents couldn’t believe it. I met him when he joined in with some friends of mine that I’d gone out to see play music. He was just sitting in, so he and talked at the bar while he waited. He is about my dad’s age. We have nothing in common. But he made me laugh like no man ever did before, and only a few women have. He said something charming about not being the kind of musician girls threw their panties to when I asked him about it. I told him I would, if I liked him. I already liked him.

While he was getting set up to play, I went to the ladies room and took of my thong. It was a tiny little thing that I really liked, it was so pretty. In the middle of his second song, I edged my way into the crowd at the edge of the dance floor and tossed it at him. It went about five feet and fell among the dancers. He didn’t even see. Thongs are not aerodynamic. But I told him about it after, and in the lacy white dress I was wearing, it was not hard to prove to him that I wasn’t wearing any panties any longer. He already knew I wasn’t wearing a bra because he had been staring at my boobs all night. Well, not staring, but looking when he had the chance. He was trying to tell if he really could see my areolea through the material or not. We talked about it later. Surely that is interesting, isn’t it?

What if I told about that photographer of Bill’s taking me home and fucking me so I couldn’t walk?

What was I doing going to a photographer anyway? I have skills. I have talents. I don’t need to take my clothes off to make money. Well, actually, I needed to make money. I haven’t had a job in six months. And taking one’s clothes off in front of a camera for money runs in my family. My grandmother did cheesecake and naturist magazines in the 50s and 60s. My mother did a major men’s magazine in the 70s. Her sister, my aunt, did a couple of porn movies back then too.

I wished Bill was home so I could talk to him and feel interesting. I wished Veronique, my darling lover who broke my heart hadn’t moved to Ireland. I wished she hadn’t broken my heart too. I wished the other 126 girls would come over.

Having sex with 127 girls should be of interest to someone. But whom? Does that seem like a lot? I’m 23. Is that a lot? I just had fun in college.

I made a rotten dinner for myself and wished Bill were home. I did three guys before Bill. One a few years older than me, who took my virginity, such as it was. And two other older guys. Lots older than me. I wished one of the two them would come over and find me interesting. And bring his wife or significant other.

I knew what I needed when that desire occurred to me. A girl. A woman. Someone without a penis. I love Bill and all. I am pretty sure. But nine years of lesbianism can’t fade away after one year of monogamous heterosexuality, can it? I took a shower, dressed to be looked at and headed out the door for Christie’s.

Gol, a year away and I felt like I didn’t know the place or anyone in it. I used to come often enough to be a regular, from the time I moved to Nevada. It was eerie. After awhile, I saw one or two women I recognized as people I had seen there before. And the bartender remembered me because I didn’t drink. She smiled at me, and I took my soft drink and wandered over to the dance floor. I like dancing, but I am not good at it. Bill is a great western swing dancer, but I still haven’t picked it up well. All elbows and knees. Not interesting. There were some pretty women on the floor, and I watched one in particular until I felt a presence at my side. I was holding my drink osmanbey escort in my left hand and the straw in my right as I took a sip and I looked sideways at her between my fingers and the straw and my hair that was falling in my face.

She was nearly as tall as me, which is unusual enough. It wasn’t that that made me gasp though. She oozed power. Simply, she was the most confident person I had ever met, and I hadn’t even met her yet.

“I could get her for you, if you want her,” she said. I looked at the dancing woman I had been watching, then back at the power woman.

“If I want her, I can get her for myself,” I told her. I can be pretty confident myself when not lolling in self-loathing because I am not interesting.

Power woman laughed softly. “It is a good thing you don’t really want her then, is it not?” she whispered and slid her arm around my waist. Her scent was alluring, even through the smoke and other smells in the room. “My name is Rustina,” she said, not really whispering, but not speaking out loud either. She pronounced it Roos-tina, in a European sounding way. I tried saying it to myself, but in my head it sounded like I was an American girl trying to sound like a European girl. I went to boarding school in Switzerland and speak French and German fluently, but Roos-tina surrounded by hard American vowels sounded silly.

“Jenifer,” I told her and rolled my hips under her arm, letting her know I didn’t mind it being there.

I have been with two older women, but it was when I was also doing the older guys. I had never just been to bed with a woman much older on my own age. I decided it was going to be interesting. Power woman was so sure of herself, she had to know a thing or two. I lowered my drink and looked at her. She had silver hair that was cut just below her shoulders and blue eyes that were as hard as diamonds.

“I want you to do something for me, Jenifer,” she said, her voice still at that low pitch. “I want you to lower the top of your dress.”

“Right here?”

“Of course. What fun would it be otherwise?”

“They’ll throw me out.”

Her laugh was like water in a rapid. “I do not think so.”

I believed her. “What if I don’t want to do that?”

Her arm moved and her hand slipped down to my bottom. It moved as she caressed me gently. I liked having her hand there. “What you want doesn’t matter.”

“A photographer I posed nude for today told me I was not interesting,” I told her. It felt nice to confide in someone, even a stranger.

“I will hold your drink for you.” She took it without waiting for my permission.

“You’ll have to unzip me,” I told her, turning my back to her. Her hand rose from my bottom and sure fingers nudged the zipper tab down. I was wearing another white dress, but this one was short, sleeveless, and form-fitting. I reached up with both hands, draping my hair over my chest, and eased the shoulder straps down my arms, feeling my full breasts swaying as the tight material fell away and bunched at my waist. I turned to her and took back my glass.

Rustina laughed again in that water pouring over rocks way. “I was not sure if you were the one,” she said, “but it seems you are.”

“What one?” I asked, feigning innocence. I haven’t been innocent in this millennium. “I’m just a girl who was told she was not interesting naked, compounding that problem by standing around in a lesbian bar with my boobs hanging out. See? No one even cares. No one has even noticed.”

“True enough,” power woman agreed, turning to smile at the women passing in front of us who were looking at my hair covered breasts. “What does matter is that I have bent you to my will.”

I turned to look at her sideways, drawing back so I could look down my nose at her. “Oh? And where was I when this happened?”

More water pouring over rocks sounds slipped out of her. “You are standing on the edge of the dance floor with your dress bunched at your waist while every woman here is wishing you would move your hair. And you do this simply because I told you to do so.”

“Do you think this is the first time I have taken off my top in a bar? It was my turn to laugh.

“Probably not. But this is the first time you have done so because I told you to do so.”

I lifted the straw with my right hand again and sucked up more diet Coke. “Which ‘one’?” I returned to her earlier comment.

Rustina’s hand on my bottom moved, caressing me once more, teasing me. “Tell me, Jenifer, have you ever been whipped?

I swayed my shoulders to signify no. My breasts moved under my hair.

“I think you will like it quite a lot. I shall bind you first, as you will not be able to control yourself if I do not. Not without experience. And I shall not be harsh, merely cruel.” Her fingers moved off my bottom and up my back, onto my bare skin, where her nails grazed lightly.

“What makes you think I will let you whip me, Rustina.” I made myself say it correctly.

“What makes you think you have a choice, mahmutbey escort Jenifer?”

I’d been tied up before and liked it. And Bill has these nipple jewelry things he likes to press onto me. They are really fun. He wants me to get my nipples pierced, but I told him to pierce his own darned nipples first, and we would talk about it. So far, he hasn’t, and I am glad. More because a middle-aged man with pierced nipples would be more silly than that I would have to go through with it myself.

Being whipped would be interesting, I thought. But would it make me interesting? In my darkest fantasies, I had allowed it. In cyber play, I had flirted with it. Being whipped. I was attracted to her. She offered me fulfillment of that darkness. Of course I was going to let her. I was wet as soon as she said it.

“You aren’t even going to offer to buy me a drink?” I asked coyly?

“You are drinking a soft drink.”

“You aren’t even going to ask me to dance.”

“If you wanted to dance, you would be dancing, not watching others.”

“Just going to take me home and whip me?”

“My home is in France. I plan to take you to my hotel.”

I nodded. “Why me?”

There was that laughter again. “I find you interesting.”

There was a nude German girl kneeling on the floor of her suite as we entered. Unlike power woman and me, she was slight. Her breasts were very small, but each nipple bore a ring through it. She had no body hair either.

Rustina turned to me as we entered, barely, and said simply, “Undress.” I fumbled behind me for the zipper of my dress, trying not to pay too much attention to the naked girl who rose from her knees and began helping Rustina out of her own clothes. She was pretty, whoever she was, with fine light brown hair that came to her shoulders and a striking face. She looked really young. Younger than me anyway. Had I met her at Christies’s, I might have tried to talk to her. I slipped out of my dress and tried to be graceful as I eased my thong past my hips and down my legs. Then I stood there, just naked in my low heels with two strangers. Kind of like college.

Rustina was gorgeous. Her breasts were high and full, as large as mine, but with the low sling of an older woman. The German girl knelt and helped her out of her skirt, and I was interested to see she wore a belt and stockings, but no panties. I didn’t know older women went out clubbing without panties. Rustina turned to me, still in her stockings and heels, and I saw her pubic hair was also silver. I wondered what color it had been when she was younger. She moved easily and gently, with poise I liked and wished I could emulate. Usually, I was the confident one, as most of the girls I had been with were less experienced than I at being naked around another girl. This time, I knew I was the one with something go learn.

“Bind her for whipping,” she said to the German girl. She was looking at me, her hands drifting lightly over her nude body. Her smile was gentle and soft. I let the girl direct me, leading me across the room and fitting cuffs around my wrists, then connecting them with a short chain. He fingers moved over me, taking liberties for someone whose name I did not know, fluttering over my breasts, across my hips, over the fluff on my mound. “Sie hat das Schamhaar,” she said to Rustina. “She has hair on her pussy.”

“Es ist nicht so wichtig,” Rustina said. “It doesn’t matter.” I wondered why or why not. The German girl pulled what there was of it, fluffing it where it had been crushed down by my panties. I don’t have much hair, really.

The German girl moved away from me and got a chair, which she stood on, and pushed my arms until I raised them over my head. She lead a rope from a hook in the ceiling through the chain between my cuffs and pulled sharply until I stood up straighter, realizing I had little room to move with my arms so high over my head. She pushed my head between my arms so they were behind it and pulled the rope again, forcing me to my toes. Stepping off the chair, she pulled my hair back and wound it into a bun and tucked it out of the way. I shivered. Out of the way of the whip. She was making sure my body was totally uncovered for the whip. I eased down onto my heels again, just barely. There was a hook in the ceiling. Of a hotel suite. Quite accommodating of her, weren’t they?

“Sie tut mir Leid,” the girl said. I don’t think either of them knew I spoke German.

“Sie hat nichts zu melden,” Rustina muttered, taking a whip into her hand. She didn’t care if the girl felt sorry for me.

“Schaden ihr.”

The whip was short, about 18 inches or so, from the handle to the tips of the leather strips hanging from the end. It looked like it was braided leather, but I couldn’t see it well. I had seen similar whips used by equestrians.

“Der Sauhund ist bereit, meine Göttin.” The cunt was ready for her Goddess.

I took a deep breath, tired of being ignored and spoken of as a cunt and a thing. I was better than that. arnavutköy escort I looked at Rustina, standing there naked in her stockings and heels with a whip in her hand. I decided to be brave.

“Auspeitschen mir, Göttin.” I said bravely. Whip me, Goddess.

Rustina smiled, knowing that her conversation with the girl had been understood. She raised one hand to the girl’s fine hair and petted her. “Kiss her nipples, Birgit. Tease her. I want her excited first.”

Birgit moved to me. I was so much taller than she, she could take my nipples between her lips without bending over at all. Her eyes rolled up at me, studying me as her mouth made love to my breasts. It was divine. I arched to feed her more of me, her tongue curling around one stiff tip, then the other. Her lips curled into a smile around my nipple as I dropped my head back, loving the overwhelming sensation of being bound, almost up on my toes, with a pretty girl sucking my nipple. And her presence warm and close. Rustina was somewhere behind me, waiting. She was in no hurry. I doubted she was ever in a hurry.

I cried out as Birgit’s teeth closed into my flesh, scoring my nipple. Her hand was between my legs then, touching me, feeling the heat of excitement that I felt and my pussy betrayed. She touched me. Her fingers were sure and confident as she caressed me. It was gentle and insistent, soft at first as she teased my lips into opening for her, then she flicked her finger into me, fucking me as I stood before her.

“The bitch is wet, Mistress,” she murmured around my nipple, in English now. Her accent was strong, stronger perhaps by being half-muffled by my breast. I didn’t like her calling me a bitch.

Rustina laughed softly, off to my left. I heard rushing water in it again. “Of course she is, she is about to be whipped.”

I lifted up onto my toes as I heard her say that. Was it true? Surely, I was wet because a beautiful girl was making love to me. A beautiful slave of a girl, with a shaved cunt and rings in her nipples and clit hood, was adoring my nipples and finger fucking me as I stood with my arms bound over my head. That was what was making me excited.

The first lash stung and startled me, falling on my unprotected ass with no warning. It was followed by a second that danced the tails of the whip fully over my round bottom, getting my attention more than anything. It was light and soft, a kiss of a touch.

My back arched in spite of my conscious efforts not to move. It was a reaction to the touch, not to any pain. I flushed, embarrassed by my body acting out of my control. I heard Birgit laughing at me as she lifted her mouth from my nipple and her finger left me. She stepped back, raising her finger to her lips and sucking my cream from it as her smile mocked me.

“The bitch tastes good, Mistress, but she has no control.”

“How could she,” Rustina said, her voice chiding. “This is her first time.”

The whip cracked against my flesh, stinging sharply this time. I arched again, feeling pain as the leather wrapped around me. I whimpered, in spite of myself, then the whip wrapped around my waist, scoring my soft skin as it snapped. The tips caught my tummy and stung me. I hadn’t expected that. I had thought a whipping would be only on my back. Silly me. The whip left me again, and I stayed tensed, up on my toes, afraid of where it would fall again, dreading it and still… still… wanting it. I found myself biting my lip in anticipation, then my body gave out, I had to relax my taut muscles. I let myself down, flat-footed, taking a deep breath and then she struck again when I was unready.

I cried out loudly this time, the cruel whip smashing across my back, falling between my raised shoulder blades. She hurt me.

“Breathe, Jenifer,” she whispered in my ear. Her lush body pressed to my whipped back. I could feel the softness of her breasts grazing my skin. “Breathe in, slowly, absorb the pain. Take it in and control it. Own it. Make it yours.”

I nodded, slowing my breathing, counting as high as I could before stopping the inhalation, then trying to count down to 0 again as I let it out. Rustina let me take two or three deep breaths, waiting until I was calm again. That little bitch Birgit was standing nearby, still smirking at me in my distress. I hated her for that.

I let my head fall back between my arms, breathing slowly, once more in control of my own body. My eyes closed and I cleared my head.

Searing pain burst through my breasts. My breasts! She had whipped them. My head shot forward, all thought of breathing gone as pain seared through me. I jerked my bonds, fighting to be free. I had never felt pain like that before, ever. Before I could even think of recovering from the first lash, she was at them again, kicking the tips of her evil little whip across the soft, full roundness of my boobs. I cried out again, feeling my eyes welling with tears.

I knew she was standing in front of me. She must have pushed that mean little bitch out of the way to be able to whip my breasts as she did. I forced my eyes open, clouded as they were with tears. There she was, legs spread wide in a steady stance, the vicious whip dangling from her right fist. That long white hair was falling in disarray over her nearly naked body, a thin sheen of perspiration lighting her, stray wisps of hair clinging to her skin. She was smiling.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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While this story can be enjoyed alone, your experience will be much richer if you read Chapter 1 first.

============================

Elyndria awoke to the sound of a soft giggle, and the twitching of her left foot. There was the hint of a light touch, almost imagined along the sole of foot, then teasingly brushing across each of her toes in turn. She tried to jerk her toes away from the touch, but the caresses continued no what way she moved or twisted her foot. Then the touches began to move… lightly up her foot and then slowly and tantalizingly up along her left leg. There was another restrained giggle as a second series of touches moved up along her right leg. Sometimes in concert, sometimes in discord with the first, the continued their slow advance up along her skin.

Her mind worked feverishly to try and figure out what was happening to her. A cold pit formed in the hollow of her stomach as she realized it was feathers that were caressing her skin. Somehow whoever had captured her had found out her fear and dread of being tickled, something her brothers had done to her without remorse whenever they wanted to tease or taunt her. Yet this was different somehow… the touches teasing and tantalizing, not brutal and uncaring. The feathers continued their slow advance, brushing lightly across her inner thigh and then back out along her hips, moving ever higher along her body with excruciatingly slow progress.

Another soft giggle wafted through the air as someone swirled the tip of the feather around her naval, and then trailed lower down her body across her skin as the other swirled up across her stomach towards her breasts. One lightly brushed across her nether lips and then raced down along the inside of her right leg, flicking and fluttering across her skin. The other began a series of slow, taunting circles across the soft skin of her breasts. She could feel her body responding involuntarily to the caresses. A slow seeping of moisture forming between her legs as her nipples started to crinkle and swell. The lower feather teased across her feet, and then raced back up her body along the other leg, then teased her once more as the upper began another slow advance up along her chest, tracing patterns along her skin as it moved up the side of her neck, then across her face.

“No, No. No.” Her mind was screaming as her body gave her away, her arousal becoming more evident by the swell of her breasts, the blood rushing to her nipples making swell and harden for any to see, the pace of her breathing growing faster, and the slow rocking of her hips as if chasing after the feather to draw its caresses closer once more.

Suddenly, it felt as if a hundred feathers caresses and teased her. Every inch of her body tantalized and stroked with butterfly kisses with those soft, gentle touches. She squirmed against her bonds, her body struggling to get free, struggling for a firmer touch against her skin, struggling to hide her body’s reaction to the caresses. The seeping was starting to grow to a flood, as she tried to move her thighs together while her lips slowly parted in arousal, growing swollen and wet. Her nipples strained towards the sky, begging to be suckled or stroked by more than this barrage of feathers. Her hips began rising against her will, the crescendo of the caresses and her arousal growing faster and faster, her breath growing ragged and frantic. She could feel the glistening wetness against her skin as her nectar began to flow in greater measure, as she neared that point of no return…

Nothing… esenler escort The feathers and their touches disappeared. Elyndria’s struggle against her bonds redoubled, this time not to escape the touches and caresses, but to welcome them… to launch her over the heights she had come so close to. But there was nothing… no touch… no sound… no movement… just her own panting breath, and her own wild thoughts.

After an eternity, there was a soft whisper, just loud enough to hear. “Soon. Soon you’ll be ready. Remember what I said when I spoke to you that first time.” A soft chuckle beside her ear punctuated his jostling of her memory. “For now, think about that, pretty bird.”

And the room fell silent…

=========================

Elyndria lay in the darkness wondering how much more of this she could stand. She found herself trying to focus her hearing or her sense of touch for the slightest stimulus. The craving to be able to see, to be touched and held, to be able to move again was slowly becoming more and more unbearable as she lay there helpless and alone in silence. Her thoughts were filled full of feathers and frustration as she finally drifted back into sleep and dreams.

She awoke with a shiver and a tingling sensation running through her body. She wasn’t sure how long she had slept, but she felt a cool breeze blowing across her upper body, focused on her breasts. It seemed to flow across her skin for 15 or 20 seconds, and then stop for a moment, then begin again. Sometimes the waft of air was fast, sometimes slow, and she could feel her nipples begin to swell as it continued.

Ste tried to turn her head from side to side to try and sense some trace what was causing the breezes, and finally she could hear a faint “wooooooooooooooooooo” as if someone was blowing the air through pursed lips. The thought of someone standing over her, blowing across her kin started to arouse her even more, as she remembered the first day with the drops of ice and hot water, and the lips that sucked and licked at her soft flesh.

Elyndria’s nipples started to harden and swell even more, the aureoles starting to harden and crinkle as her arousal suddenly grew more heated; her body beginning to flush lightly as her breathing quickened. Perhaps today… today would be the day she’d find release and be let out of these restraints… hopefully today they wouldn’t leave her on the cusp of pleasure and wanting…

Without warning, the wafts of air stopped and the sounds disappeared. “Oh no!” she thought as she moved her head from side to side, seeking any sort of sound or touch, arching her back as she strained upwards hoping to come in contact with something or someone.

Suddenly, there was a little nip against her left ankle, followed by a long sensual lick along the side of her foot by a warm wet tongue. Warm breath across her skin as a series of kisses, nibbles and caresses teased her and tantalized her. Then she could feel the little toe of her left foot being slowly engulfed in a warm wetness as it was sucked into someone’s mouth, the tip of a tongue flicking across and around it. There was a popping sound as the toe was released, and then she felt the mouth and tongue descent on the next toe. She wanted to scream out in pleasure and violation at the same time, her head whipping back and forth as her leg tensed and her back arched high, pressing her breasts into the air. But all that came out of her mouth through the gag was a high pitched whimpering sound kayaşehir escort as she lay there helpless before the tantalizing seduction of her body.

The hot, wet lips tongue and mouth continued the slow, teasing progress along her body, each toe in turn, and then along the top of her foot. Every inch was covered with kisses, nibbles and caresses, her body responding as the sensations raced through her captive flesh. The first hints of her nectar started to seep from her nether lips, betraying her arousal too clearly for any to see. Hardened nipples could be from the chill, but this… this was an unmistakable sign of her body’s desire for more. She almost cried and wanted to scream when the lips left her, only to rejoice when suddenly her right little toe was engulfed in that warm wetness and the process started anew on her right foot.

Up along the inside of her ankles, then along her calves… slow, inexorable progress reaching higher and higher up her legs, like the lava flowing down from a volcano… slow, hot, wet caresses, nibbles and licks and she was helpless… her chest heaving now, breasts swollen and full, nipples straining towards the sky, hips rocking back and forth as the lips reached her knees… and worked their way up along the inside of her thigh. Elyndria’s legs were spread wide as she could make then, her knees bent slightly as she took up the slack in the bonds holding her legs in place. She could feel her own wet juices building inside, flowing out of her and dribbling down into the crack of her taut ass, her lips swelling and slowly parting as the caresses grew closer and closer to that molten core of her center.

Suddenly fingers pinched her nipples, twisting them tightly between a finger and thumb as the tongue reached out and ever so lightly ran along the length of her tender sex, parting the lips and causing a rush of her nectar to flow. She gasped in pleasure, lightning running the length of her body and back again, her body starting to writhe in the bonds, coming so close to reaching that peak of pleasure.

Her mind was a jumble, thoughts racing through her mind like a runaway stallion… “Oh gods don’t stop, oh please don’t stop, don’t stop, just a little more… sooooooooo close… please don’t stop… oh gods why is this making me feel this way, but don’t stop… just a little more…”

Then… nothing… The fingers and hungry mouth disappeared. Elyndria’s struggle against her bonds redoubled, trying to move her body to launch her over the heights she had come even closer to than before. Showing her captors that she wanted more, hating them for stopping so tantalizingly close that her body ached with desire and need.

But there was nothing… no touch… no sound… no movement… just her own panting breath, and her own wild thoughts.

After an eternity, there was a soft whisper, just loud enough to hear. “Soon. You’re almost ready, pretty bird. Think about that until I return.”

And the room fell silent…

=========================

As she stirred in her sleep, Elyndria felt something strange in her mouth. Actually, it was the absence of something strange that suddenly seemed abnormal to her. As she awoke, she ran her tongue across her lips and realized that the gag that had kept her silent for so long had been removed. Hope rose quickly, only to be abruptly dashed by the feel of the leather straps still holding her arms and legs in place. Still, the sensation of cool air against her lips and tongue, the bomonti escort caress of her tongue against her skin and teeth, no longer constrained by her captors.

There had to be a reason, and a chill ran through her body as she wondered what her captors had in store for her now. They must not be worried about her crying out or screaming or they wouldn’t have removed the gag. She wanted to speak or cry out, her fear of punishment and the unknown battling the desire to hear someone, anyone, even her own voice to break the silence that surrounded her as an enveloping shroud.

Finally, she tried to whisper… a faint “Hello?” in a voice that cracked and broke at first. Wetting her lips once more and swallowing deeply, Elyndria tried again. This time, she was rewarded as her voice sounded like her own. “Hello?” she spoke again, just a bit louder as she sought out some contact with another person. She repeated herself over and over, each time listening intently, trying to discern any sound or movement in response to her queries. “Is there anyone there? Please answer me… anyone?”

Sinking down inside herself once more, she couldn’t decide which had been worse – not being able to speak at all, or being able to speak and communicate only to be answered by more nothingness. She drifted back in and out of sleep, her body and mind numb from the lack of stimulation, alone and silent in an empty room.

“Hello, pretty bird.”

She felt like she was in a dream, and she tried to drive herself deeper into it but the voice wouldn’t let her. The VOICE! Suddenly every nerve was taut and she was vibrantly aware, seeking out the voice again, to assure her it hadn’t just been her imagination playing tricks on her again, deluding her that someone else was there with her.

“Hello, pretty bird.” The voice repeated itself softly from somewhere above her head. Are you happier with your gag removed?”

“Yes” she replied in a voice that was almost a whisper.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you… and if I can’t hear you, then there’s no point in leaving you ungagged, is there?”

“Yes, I am happier without the gag…” she managed to get out in a voice that almost sounded normal.

“And…?” The undertone of threat or menace was thick beneath that one simple word, as her captor awaited something more from her.

Her mind raced frantically as she tried to figure out what he wanted her to say. With a flash of insight, she blurted out, “Thank you. Thank you for removing the gag.”

“Much better, pretty bird. Much, much better. I was beginning to think I’d have to start all over with your instruction.”

“No… you don’t have to start again. Please… What do you want? What do you want me to do?”

“From this point… you’ll remain ungagged, as long as you do as you’re told. You will not speak unless directed to, by me or one of my servants. Is that understood?”

“Yes, but…”

A strong hand reached out and gripped her jaw, snapping her mouth closed so abruptly she almost bit her tongue. “There are no ‘buts’ permitted. There is only obedience. Or there is punishment.” The hand released its tight grip but she could still feel the fingers underneath her chin. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Once again the tone of underlying threat and menace returned to the question, dripping from those two brief words.

“Yes, I understand.” She trembled as she spoke the words, but at the same time, there was a strange tingling running through her body as he held her, and spoke to her in such a way.

“Very good, pretty bird… think on your lesson until I return.”

She could hear the sound of footsteps walking away from her, and the silence once again wrapped its arms around her.

==========================

There’s more to come… (grins wickedly) Do you want to read it? Comment and Vote!

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

It was a warm afternoon in early September as Kayleigh waited on the station for the man who would own her to arrive. She was nervous and exited. There was a ritual she was to perform, if this meeting was to result in her introduction to the practical side of BDSM. She was so eager to try, however there were too many people around. Someone was sure to see.

Well, time was soon to run out, as the tannoy announced the arrival of the train that would bring this Master to her; she took a deep breath, made doubly sure, in herself, this was what she wanted, and made her way to the agreed meeting place. She saw the face of the Man she had only seen in photos up to now, walk down the steps and onto the platform, for the train to London.

He approached her and said “Kayleigh?”

“Yes sir” she replied, as they embraced then kissed.

This reassured her, and gave her the confidence to do what she was now to do. The couple released their embrace and Kayleigh reached beneath her skirt, pulled down her now damp underwear, and handed it to her soon to be Master.

“I offer you my underwear, as a sign of my wish to serve you, please accept them and in doing so accept me,” she said, as she had spent all day practising.

“Thank you Kayleigh, I accept these, and you” he said confidently, taking the Panties; feeling their dampness, and putting them in his pocket. He smiled and kissed her forehead, she blushed and hugged him. No-one had seen anything, or if they did they did not say anything.

The two new lovers then stood holding each other, until their train to London and their future arrived. They boarded and found their seats, next to each other, with a table in front. Kayleigh was happy at this, it would hide the fact she was to sit with her bear bottom touching the fabric of the seat, and not sit on her skirt, in the same way as O had, in the book she had been reading recently. It was a strange sensation, one she was not used to, but it turned her on.

The carriage was quiet, so she felt happy about talking to her new Master, “Did you like my panties?” she enquired.

“Very much,” He replied, “It seems you were quite looking forward to this.”

“Yea I ….” She started but then felt him reach under her skirt to feel for himself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“You still are” He smiled back at her. She blushed and nodded. “Well, now it is time for me to offer you something.” he continued.

He reached into one of his bags and took out a small collar, almost plain black rubber, with a small D-ring at the front.

“This is a consideration collar,” He announced, “it symbolises that you are my submissive, and you serve me, but also that this is only the start of our relationship”

She beamed a smile, and tears welled in her eyes, “Thank you sir” she had read about collars, and knew what he felt about them. He was serious about what he was doing, and she knew it.

“Lean forward” He said. cihangir escort

She did so and he placed the collar round her neck. She felt a deep sense of pride in wearing this simple object, she delicately felt the D-Ring wondering how He would make use of it.

The couple discussed various topics, as the train made its way towards the capital. Some Kayleigh felt more comfortable with than others, but it never went too far, and so the time came when Kayleigh asked her lover if she could go to the toilet.

“You remembered rule number 3, very good, but what about rule 9?” He enquired.

“Rule 9?” She thought to herself. She went through all 10 rules she had been given by her Master and Lover in her head; 1) No Cumming without permission. 2) No playing with yourself without permission. 3) No using the toilet without permission, when I can be contacted first. 4) No underwear in my presence without permission. 5) Orders must always be obeyed. 6) No flirting without permission. 7) You must keep yourself in good condition and ready for use at anytime. 8) No clothes in private without permission. 9) No locked doors in my presence. 10) My word on any punishment is final!

So she could not lock the toilet door? Then someone might walk in on her!

“But…” she started to protest, but was interrupted again.

“Come on” He said with a broad smile on his face, offering her his hand, which she took and they walked towards the end of the carriage and toilet. Was he going to stand guard she wondered?

They reached the end of the carriage and he held the toilet door open for her and she walked in. He looked to see if anyone was watching then followed her in, locking the door behind him.

“You’re going to watch me?” she asked shocked.

“No, you are going to suck my dick!” He answered.

Kayleigh sat on the toilet, skirt hiked up and nervously peed, He undid his fly and let his manhood out, he positioned himself in front of her and she took him into her mouth. She sucked while she peed, a strange sensation to say the least!

When she finished peeing, he withdrew from her mouth, and stood her up, spun her round and slid himself into her. She held herself against the walls of the cubicle for balance and they made love in the toilet, rocking with the movement of the train; He thrusted, using the momentum of the train’s rocking. It was not long before she had her first orgasm by him, but she did not ask for permission. He reminded her of rule 1. It was not long before she was building to orgasm number 2, this time she asked for permission, but he did not give it, until he was also about to cum, and so the couple came together.

She collapsed into his arms, with only the strength to smile, he beamed back at her, tided her and himself up, before they left the cubicle and returned to their seats. They continued to talk, as the countryside became more urban. Kayleigh fulya escort blushed occasionally, as she stirred, and felt the damp patch on her seat.

When they finally arrived at Paddington and got up again, Kayleigh looked at the seat and gasped, thinking “All that came out of me?!”

Her Master followed her gaze and saw the darkened fabric. “I wonder who will have to sit in that next.” He laughed.

Kayleigh turned bright red, and hid her face in his chest. As they walked down the carriage to collect their luggage, she hid her face a again, as they passed the toilet, half turned on, half embarrassed by what they had done. Then they left the train. As they walked trough the station and to a taxi Kayleigh felt a cool breeze try and lift her skirt. She tried to hold it down, she succeeded, but only just.

The ride to the hotel flew past, and they were soon installed in the room where she would experience things that, up to now, she had been to scared to try in-case she liked them too much.

They had not even unpacked, when her Master returned Kayleigh’s underwear. Before she could put the panties back on, He said, “OK my slave, time for you to entertain me, I want to see what kind of stripper you are!”

Kayleigh blushed as she put her underwear back on. She was not too happy with how she looked, but her lover had reassured her already that she was beautiful. Her master put some music on his laptop computer and she began to dance.

She slowly undressed, teasing her Master as she went. He smiled and watched as her body moved, once she was naked bar the collar that she had accepted only a few hours ago, she was beckoned onto the bed to join her master. She crawled up it and sat next to him. He took out a set of wrist cuffs and put them on her, but did not join them together.

“This is your last chance to change your mind before things escalate” He told her.

“I am yours Sir, I wish to serve you, please teach me how best to do so” She responded.

“Very good,” He said “Place your hands behind you back.”

She did as she was told and the cuffs were locked together. She was blindfolded and had a ball gag placed in her mouth. Her Master then moved to the edge of the bed and laid Kayleigh across his lap.

“Now there is a matter, from our journey, we need to deal with” He said.

Kayleigh shuddered and tried to ask what she had done, but her response was muffled by the gag.

“You forgot rule 1” he announced, “and so you will be punished”

She nodded, remembering the toilet and she braced herself for some kind of punishment. It was not long before she felt his hand land on her bottom cheeks. He started slowly, building her up. It was not long before the heat built in her bottom, which made her start to wriggle. He held her down, but she was soon aware, her struggles were having an effect. She smiled, knowing that she would be enjoying that florya escort soon. This distraction took her attention away from her burning backside, until he moved his aim, from her buttocks, to the tops of her thighs, which stung; she tried to cry out, but could not.

He kept going for several minutes, by this time saliva had made its way round the ball of the gag, and it started to drip to the floor, once he notice this he stopped the spanking, much to Kayleigh’s relief. Instead he started to finger her pussy, it was soaking, and he easily slipped several fingers inside her. She almost orgasmed instantly, but she held her self back, and started to beg for permission, but with the gag in she could not make herself understood. It was so frustrating, her bottom burnt, and she was about to loose control of her pussy. It happened, she came, he smiled, and then used his free hand to undo her gag.

“I am very sorry Master, I tried to ask, the….” She attempted to apologise until her Masters other hand, covered in her juice, was placed in her mouth.

Once she had licked it clean, she was placed, kneeling on the floor, and her master for the second time, placed his cock into her mouth. She gratefully started to suck, but it was soon clear that was not the score. He took hold of her hair each side of her head and forced her deeper onto his cock. She tried to suppress her gag reflex, but could only manage so much before she started to choke. He pulled out and let her catch her breath, before re-inserting himself, until He let go, and came into her mouth.

“Don’t swallow until I tell you!” He ordered.

She nodded. He used the ring on her collar to bring Kayleigh to her feet and sat her on the bed. He then placed nipple clamps on her breasts, knelt in front of her and started to lick her, slowly teasing her clit, building her up, and occasionally tugging on the chain between the clamps. She wanted to swallow so she could breath better, and began to cough. He kept going taking her to her limits. She could barely breathe, she was going to have to shallow and face the consequences of this, but He spoke just in time.

“Ok swallow” he said, giving the hardest tug on the chain yet.

She did so and then gasped to catch her breath, before she began to scream, building towards yet another orgasm. She began to beg for permission once more, this time she was audible, but was ignored, until the last minute. When permission came, she let herself go, and it was a big one. It left her breathless and exhausted; he untied her hands and removed the blindfold and clamps, she was glad to see the smile on his messy face.

She would have laughed, but she could not, she was floating.

The next day, when she asked what had happened, he explained it was called subspace, and she would feel it many more times in his service, this made her smile again.

But that night was to end with her wrists tied to the collar, spooning with her Master/lover, they slept like that. She was no longer afraid of the future, and her own interests in BDSM. In fact sleeping like this she was more comfortable than she thought she ever could be.

The rest of the weekend was to leave her happier and more content than she thought was possible, but that story is for another time!

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 8

Megan

We went on like that over the next few months. We had a routine now.

His rules were simple. Every morning, I was to text him when I woke up. I had to drink 2 cups of water every day. I had to eat at least two meals a day. I had to edge nightly, at least once. I had to text him goodnight. If he asked for a photo, I’d send him one. Then there was the weekly task.

Every Monday, he would give me a task. A new rule to follow. I would be released from it on Saturday. The first one had been no alcohol at the bar the days that I went. I’d had to ask Noah to make me a regular tea instead of a spiked one, and he raised an eyebrow at me, but didn’t argue. The next week was no chocolate. That one had been hard. Each week it was something small, just a little something so that every time I had the urge, I had to remember that I was saying no, because he told me to.

We played on Saturdays. I learned he loved to see me struggle to resist my orgasm, which part of me hated because I hated denial, but I did my damndest. I broke after our fifth session when he was relentlessly fingering that spot at the back of my pussy and sucking on my clit. He’d found the secret combo that I couldn’t resist against, and after over a month of denial, I’d come so hard I almost passed out.

The session after that had been hell. Not the most intense impact I’d ever experienced, not by far, but the hardest part about submitting to a beating for me was not being able to see his face. I wanted to see him enjoy it, and I couldn’t. Still, afterwards he’d held me against his chest as I’d cried softly, rubbing cool lotion into my skin, kissing my neck, and telling me I was amazing.

“I want to see you,” I’d confessed. “I want to see you enjoy me.”

“Oh, Megan. I absolutely adore you.” He’d taken my hand and put it against his chest, and I could feel his heart beat fast. He let go, letting me hold my hand there, and I let it trail down to his crotch, where he was hard and twitching. Eager to please and redeem myself, I’d given him the best damn blowjob I could muster, drawing it out as long as I could before I made him cum. I showed him his cum in my mouth before I swallowed. He’d laughed and kissed my forehead.

And every time I went, he left me a gift.

It was usually something small. Once it was a tiny little ring for my pinky finger, with a heart on it. It wasn’t big, but it was a little something I could wear. Another time I found a barrette for my hair. Often it was new panties, pretty little thongs or lacy boy shorts or silky briefs to replace the ones he’d confiscate from me every week.

Twice he’d bought me clothes. The first time was the dress, but another time he bought me a beautiful shirt that was nearly completely backless. He really likes my back, I thought, as I’d put it on to leave. It hung on me beautifully and, for once, for a second, I looked in the mirror and believed him when he called me “pretty girl.” That was his name for me. I loved it.

Once it was a WeVibe, the kind you control from your phone. That week he had me wear it every weekday evening from seven o’clock until I went to bed. I had been so horny by the time Saturday rolled around, I begged him for a beating instead of his teasing, and he’d graciously agreed, giving me the much-needed release I’d needed in a way I didn’t truly want, but needed because he wasn’t going to let me cum. “I’m sorry,” I cried. “I wish I could. But I know I can’t. I know I’ll fail.”

“Never apologize for being honest with me, Megan. That’s rule one, remember?”

Another time, it was a journal. A pretty, leather-bound journal with an elegant cursive M pressed into it. Inside was a note, telling me to record my edging sessions, and my fantasies inside. “Be detailed, pretty girl. Don’t hold back from me.”

That had been the hardest challenge. I wrote several pages, honestly pouring myself out about how I didn’t want to disobey him, how I wanted to please him and not ask about his true identity, but that I felt like I was missing half of him, that he was holding back from me because he could see me and I couldn’t see him. I wrote about how hard it was that he relentlessly edged and teased and denied me, and how much I hated denial.

Four pages in, I realized it sounded like whining and complaining, and I apologized profusely, begging him to forgive me and insisting that I wanted nothing more than to obey. “Whatever that takes. For as long as you want. If that is really what you want.”

That Saturday during our play, he’d asked me to kneel by him while he read the journal, quietly turning the pages.

“You gave up?” He asked.

“Sir?”

“You gave up trying to figure it out.”

“Months ago, sir.”

“Why?”

“It’s part of the game,” I shrugged. “I like the game.”

“You just wrote earlier that you want to know.”

“Well yes, but I want you to tell me. I don’t want to figure it out by accident.”

He şişli escort chuckled, closed the journal, and took my hand, guiding me to stand. He had me sit on the couch next to him, and lay my head back, my arms extending over the edge of the couch, my back across his legs, and my legs towards the other end. He began delicately exploring my body, brushing fingers across me in all the ways and places he knew I liked.

“Why don’t you tell me who you think I could be.”

I blushed, but began working through my options. I said all the reasons he could be some people, and not others.

“You’re not one of Lindsay’s friends. They left town and haven’t been back. Michael Black hasn’t been here consistently because of work. Noah and Jack are both working almost every day, and I doubt either of them could break away from the bar for an hour of sex on their busiest day… Jack has a really unique voice and he’s about my height, but you’re taller. Noah and Jackson don’t have any tattoos, but I saw tattoos on your arms and hands in the video. So I have a feeling you weren’t actually in the room that first night I was blindfolded.”

“Interesting.”

“Plus, none of them sound like you. Your voice is… different.”

He was trying to distract me by massaging my clit and gently working a finger inside me. With the way I was laying on him, my hips tilted, he was massaging my g-spot expertly.

“But I know you’re here at the bar somewhere, because… well, I don’t know I just… ah. Oh… fuck.” while one hand played with my pussy, the other hand had inched its way up to my breast, playing and squeezing. I loved that he wasn’t afraid to really squeeze me.

“I’m also a little surprised at your concern of this game changing unexpectedly,” he said, his voice gruff and full of lust by now. He pulled his fingers out of me and I could hear him sucking my wetness off of them. He slid them back in, dripping wet with his spit, and I shivered in pleasure.

“What?” I gasped, barely able to focus.

I heard him take the notebook in one hand and lay it on my chest. He continued to finger me as he read.

“Sir, you have to understand, I love our game. But it’s so different than anything I’ve ever done. You have to understand the intensity I was brought in on, being Mr. Weston’s live-in slave. Although it was emotionally fulfilling, it was a constant roller-coaster of humiliation, pain, and rough sex. It’s not like this. This is fun. It’s easy. It’s hot as hell. You make me feel special and pretty. And you make me feel like a slut without feeling like a piece of furniture. It’s new and different, and I love it. But I keep waiting for the ball to drop. I keep waiting for it to change. I keep expecting to fuck it up and for a sadistic switch to flip in you. I keep expecting to disappoint you. And what happens if I figure it out? What happens when you tell me? What will the game change into? I don’t want to lose this.”

I bit my lip. My words and worries spoken out loud in his gruff, warm, sexy voice sounded absurd. He sighed and shut the journal, and kissed my stomach, then my chest, right between my breasts, and then peppered my collarbone and neck with little kisses.

“I told you, Megan. All I want you to do is obey, and play the game. You’re not going to fuck it up.”

“Yes sir.”

“Is it too hard?”

“No sir… I almost feel like it’s too easy. It’s always been easy.”

“Is that bad?”

I tried to think while he tried to distract me. Finally I found the words I was looking for. “Doesn’t it take away from my submission if I just… hand it over? You just walked into a room and I submitted to you. It was easy. Simple. Doesn’t that make you feel like…”

“Like it was thoughtless? A meaningless gift?”

I sighed. “Yes. That’s what I meant.”

“Megan, you don’t know me. You were given no information, no guidance, no warning, and you gave yourself to me like it was your job. You did that because you trust that I am not going to hurt you, despite the fact that you don’t know me. That is very special to me.”

“Reuben wouldn’t set me up with someone he didn’t trust.”

“And you trust me only because you trust him?”

“Well… I did at first. But you’ve proven to me that I can trust you as well.”

“And you’ve proven to me that you will do as I say, no matter how hard it is for you. Do you know why I make you wear a blindfold, and change my voice when I’m around you?”

I felt my eyes widen and blink under my blindfold. “You-you change your voice?”

He laughed. “Of course. Otherwise we couldn’t play the game.”

“I… oh.”

“I do it because you told Reuben the thing you were missing in those other relationships was the connection. You didn’t want it to just be submission. You wanted the connection. You like rough sex. You like getting fucked. You like cuming multiple times until you’re spent. And I have been bahçelievler escort nothing but gentle, and I am keeping from you everything you want, and haven’t given you permission to cum in nearly four months, and you are choosing to submit to me anyway. Isn’t that sadistic enough for you?”

I felt my mouth quirk into a smile. He was right. He was giving me some of the best pleasure and worst pain I’d ever had, and I was loving it, and was desperate for the rest, and he was keeping it from me, stringing me along. Would I ever get it? “I never said I wanted you to be sadistic.”

“You dated one for three years.”

“Exactly. Will you… will you ever tell me who you are?”

He leaned forward and kissed me softly. “Of course I will, pretty girl. But not yet. I’m having too much fun. Aren’t you?”

I smiled and whispered, “yes sir,” against his mouth and kissed him back. A whole new level of understanding had settled onto me, and I basqued in that little hit of my favorite buzz of submission. If he wanted to keep this from me, so be it. All I had to do was do as I was told.

“You know another thing you wrote in your notebook, is that we haven’t really fucked.” I felt giddy when he said it. Was he finally going to fuck me? I’d had his cock in my mouth several times now, and I desperately wanted to feel him fill me up.

“Will you please fuck me, sir,” I whispered quietly. I felt myself clench at the thought, and tighten around his fingers. I ached for release.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl. You’ll get yours.”

He edged and teased and denied me for another decade, or so it felt. I was getting so close, but I managed to hold off by the skin of my teeth. Finally he eased his fingers out of me, and gently held them up to my mouth. I sucked them off, relishing the feeling of his fingers in my mouth and on my tongue.

That day, he didn’t leave me a gift. I felt a little confused, and a little hurt. Had I said something? Or done something wrong? But I left the playroom and went out to the bar, and ordered a drink.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked me as I sat at one of the stools. I didn’t really want to sit with my friends until I had gotten my head back on straight.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just need to clear my head.”

Jack made my drink a little stronger than normal. I watched as he expertly poured out the liquor, knowing exactly how much to pour into the glass from the years spent measuring, and then looked at me and gave me another few splashes. I laughed.

As I watched him, I noticed his hands. They were definitely big, and he had some muscle tone to his arms. I tried to remember if I’d ever seen his forearms without his long whitesleeved button-down shirt. I was sure he’d worn his sleeves rolled up before, but lately, both of the bartenders had been wearing their sleeves down. Had my Sir asked them to do so? Or was it one of them?

I sipped my drink and scrolled my phone, not really seeing or absorbing anything I was looking at, so I noticed right away when I got a text from him.

Sir: Close your eyes.

My stomach clenched and I set my phone down, folded my hands in my lap, and closed my eyes, keeping my head facing forward. I felt it when he came up behind me, and placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Did you think I forgot something?”

“I… no sir, I didn’t think you forgot.”

“But I didn’t leave you a gift today.”

“No sir.”

“Why not.” It wasn’t his usual playful tone, it was more serious, and it wasn’t a question. Think, he was telling me.

I bit my lip, but took a steadying breath and said the words I didn’t want to say. “I didn’t earn it.” The words hurt because I wasn’t sure what I’d done. Where had I messed up?

“Oh, Megan.” his lips brushed my ears. “You don’t earn gifts. They’re given.” His hands left my shoulders and he straightened, but didn’t leave. “Listen. Breathe.”

I listened. At first it all just sounded like background noise, but as I focused, I could hear the voices of my friends. I could pick out each one of their voices and see their faces. I could hear the clinking of glasses, and the soft moans of Jenna and Sarah in the corner, one of them being pleasured quietly under her skirt. I could hear the bartenders and a waiter or waitress behind the bar, mixing and stirring.

I could hear his breathing. I could feel his breath rustle my hair and brush against my neck.

I could hear my own shaky breathing. I focused on it, relaxing and letting it even out.

Then I heard him move. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but I felt his hands near me. And then something cold against my neck.

Oh. Oh my god. I gasped a little and my eyes fluttered, but I clamped them shut. There was a mirror on the other side of the bar. If I opened them… But I’d promised I’d wait. I wanted the game. So I kept them glued shut.

He was buckling a collar around ataköy escort my neck. “Do you know what you’ve done to earn this?” he said softly.

I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. “No sir. I don’t.” I felt like I’d barely done anything.

“Yes you do. Text me when you figure out how to say it… maybe soon you’ll earn the lock.” He kissed the back of my neck, and then my cheek, and then the very corner of my lips, and then he was gone. I waited for some time, making sure he was really out of sight before I let my eyes flutter open. I could feel the smile on my face, but it didn’t truly register until I looked across from me in the mirror of the bar and saw that gorgeous collar around my neck.

It was about an inch thick, dark red leather with small loops on it that held a brushed black chain that wove through the loops, rivets holding it in place. I felt my fingers brush against the chain links and the soft shiny leather. The buckle on the back had small D-rings attached so it could be locked shut.

I saw Julia come up behind me and hug me, grinning wildly. “It looks so good on you,” she giggled.

“I knew it was one of yours,” I said.

“Can I take a picture of you wearing it? It looks so good against your chain tattoo. Man he had the right idea with that black brushed steel.”

I agreed and moved my hair off my back, and let her take a few photos of me. She sent them to me so I had them. Becca also came over and congratulated me, giving me a quick peck on the forehead. “I’m so excited for you,” she said. “Have you figured it out yet?”

“I’m not going to,” I said, and then I realized what he had meant when he said I knew what I’d done to earn it. I had given up, chosen not to look, not to try, not to keep wondering. I had chosen to forgo knowing his true identity simply because he had chosen to keep it from me. And I’d chosen to submit to him even though he was keeping everything I wanted from me.

Peace settled over me, and I sent him a text.

Megan: I get it. I’m playing the game the way you want me to play it. Thank you, sir. I love my collar. And I love this. And I think, maybe, I kind of love you a little.

Sir: I think I kind of love you a little, too, pretty girl.

Then I took my drink, waived to the boys behind the bar, and went to the couches to sit by my friends.

Chapter 9

Megan

Saturdays were my favorite day of the week anyway, but any day I went to Reuben’s and got to sit with my friends, knowing maybe my Sir was watching me, filled me with excitement. It was better than a secret admirer. It was a secret lover that everyone seemed to know except me.

It was too cold to wear my pretty burgundy dress, but we were having a Christmas party in the Lounge, and it was his favorite piece, so I wanted to wear it that night. I wore a pair of black floral fishnets underneath and a pair of black suede ankle boots, and my heavy double-breasted coat on top to keep me warm. He’d given me a scarf last week as a gift. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was soft and warm and looked so pretty with my black wool coat. Part of me wondered if we would play that night since the party would start at seven and probably go all night.

That evening, there was a lot of booze, a lot of laughter, and a lot of swearing. There was also a lot of sex. Jenna came out of nowhere wearing a strapon and holding a hitachi and chased Abigail around the room, finally being aided by Paul and Becca as she was caught, held still, and royally fucked. Tanya wore the hottest latex corset and skirt I’d ever seen, the black material glistening under the light as she danced and gyrated on a pole that had been installed, putting herself in a position that would allow anyone to come up behind her and have access to her. Sam was tied up and suspended just high enough off the ground that he could be used as a coffee table, and use him we did.

Jack and Noah both wore different colored shirts that day instead of their normal white; Jack wore dark green and Noah wore red. Jack looked like an elf with his long straight black hair pulled up into a bun, his ears just slightly pointed at the tip. He also wore a green santa hat. Although he looked festive, he looked proudly and purposefully ridiculous, like he was doing his best to look as absurd as possible. Noah’s red shirt was almost a wine color, and he wore a set of reindeer antlers with bells that made him look absurd. I giggled hysterically when he shook his head side to side and jokingly pranced around. He reached up to adjust his antlers, and I saw his sleeve ride up on his left wrist just a little. No celtic knot tattoo, I realized. I’d already known neither of the bartenders were my Sir, but the lack of the tattoo was further confirmation.

There was also a beautiful Christmas tree in the corner of the room, lit up with a thousand lights and beautiful black and red ornaments. People had brought gifts for each other, and although he wasn’t there that night, almost every member of the club had received a small gift from Mr. Weston, and he’d allowed for a certain number of free drinks and food for us that night as well. We sat around the tree close to eleven o’clock and exchanged gifts, the bar boys coming to sit with us as well for a few minutes to rest and have fun.

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