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Ch. 1: https://www..com/s/roman-holiday-the-wager-ch-01

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He allows himself to drink in the sight of her – leaned over with arms bracing the table, dress pushed up over the ass and her cunt dripping with his cum. Her body shivers with aftershocks as her chest rises and falls to catch her breath. With a view like that, he finds himself impatient to return to the brownstone – where the fun can really begin.

Without looking away, Roman reaches into his pocket, finds the woman’s lace undergarment and wipes his cock dry with her panties. He folds them and slips the fabric back into his pocket before arranging himself – only half soft – back into his trousers and refastening them. In the time it takes him, Scarlet is still using the table to help prop herself up. He stalks back to her, running his hands over her ass before gently pulling her dress back over her still soaked cunt, and down over her legs. He runs a hand up her back, along her neck and into her hairline, gripping tight for half a second. He grins when he hears her moan, and works his fingers around the pins in her hair, pulling them free so her hair spills over her face.

He holds the pins up to a light, inspecting them for a beat before pocketing them. Scarlet is beginning to come back to herself – at least she’s managed to get her legs under her. She stands tall with a slight sway and favors him with a bliss-ridden smile. Her lipstick is smeared, some of it remaining on the table where she must have turned her head and bore down as he fucked her. He grins at this, making a mental note to have Walter instruct the staff to preserve the red mark.

“I’ll get our coats,” he tells her, pressing himself into her as he reaches behind her to grab the silver purse from the edge of the table where it was poised to fall. He pushes the small bag into her hand, leans close – his lips almost to hers – and speaks again. “Touch up your lipstick, pet.”

The next thing Scarlet registers is his back as he walks away from her. He is unrolling the sleeves of his dress shirt as he goes, and while she can’t see his smile, she knows it is there. When he disappears into the hall, she lets out a long breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and finds her chair with force as her knees beg for relief. She starts as she sits, pain between her legs reminding her of how well endowed her host is. She shifts carefully, trying to find some comfort – and more importantly, her senses.

She glances at the short arm of the clock behind the bar and marks the time. It’s almost midnight already, and she finds herself wondering what Roman’s idea of ‘evening’ was.

“Until the sun comes up,” Roman’s voice rumbles from the hallway, his coat already on, and hers in his arm. He’s standing in the opening and notices her looking at the clock. “Your lipstick,” he reminds her.

She looks down, remembering the purse. She fumbles with the clasp, and as she is carefully applying a new coat of Flamenco Red, Roman is standing in front of her. He reaches down and pulls the long fang from where it rests between her breasts – her skin is still indented from the pendant – inspecting it.

“What kind of tooth is this?” He asks.

Scarlet presses her lips together and looks up at him. She is pleased to find that is easier to look at him now. Her lips relax and she notices the slight tug on the back of her neck from the chain as his grip tightens on the pendant. She is surprised to find the sensation sends a rush of heat through her all over again. “Tiger,” she answers and stands. His grip remains on the necklace, but his gaze moves to her face, then her lips.

“Beautiful,” he says approvingly before letting the tiger fang fall back to her chest. He takes a step back and holds out her coat for her to step into.

She does, and the warmth protecting her skin seems to give her the barrier from him she needs to feel more normal. It also makes the fact she is leaving with him that much more real. She can feel his cum begin to trickle down the inside of her thigh and can’t tell if it makes her want round two, or to slap him.

His arm snakes around her shoulder once her coat is on and fastened closed, and he guides her to the hall, up the stairs and into the quiet cold outside. Snowflakes stick to her cheeks, melting easily with how hot her skin is. What am I doing she thinks, even as her feet continue to put one in front of the other, going where he steers her.

“I should tell my roommate where I’m going,” she says in a moment of clarity and pats down her coat, looking for her phone. Blood drains from her face when she realizes it is not in the pocket she left it. Phones were too distracting when she played – so she had removed the temptation. Now, that feels like a fatal mistake. “My phone!” she halts all progress and turns to look back towards the the way they’d come.

“I’ll have Walter look for it,” Roman says helpfully and takes his phone from his pocket. He taps the screen and begins typing a message. “He’ll bring it by if he finds zonguldak escort it.”

“Who’s Walter?”

“One of my employees.” There is a pause between ‘my’ and ’employees’, and Scarlet might have noticed if she had been on more stable footing. Her mind is too scattered to be observant. She clearly wants to go back, but he pockets his phone, holds out a hand and removes the opportunity for further protest, “Come, we’re here.”

“Already?” She wonders, her eyes traveling to the stairs that lead to a large stoop, all bordered with wrought iron. One of the large windows of the brownstone is dark, but the other is alive with warm light that penetrates the curtains.

“I told you it wasn’t far,” he favors her with one of his easy grins. “Come,” he repeats the command and she feels her heart speed at how rough it falls from his lips. He brings her attention back to his hand, “We have a bet to settle.”

She groans. “You’re kind of an ass,” she informs him, but takes his hand nonetheless.

“It is good to know you are comfortable with vulgarity,” he says with a smile, offering an elbow to help her up the stairs.

“See?” She asks, allowing him to help her – the stairs are slick with ice and her heels aren’t made for gripping. “It’s comments like those that prompt me to say as much.”

“I would warn you to avoid being a sore loser, but I plan to personally see to it.” He counters and reaches across his body to hers, slipping his hand between the gap in her coat and expertly finding her nipple. He gives it a squeeze, a flick, and returns his hand to his side with shocking speed.

She gasps and swats – far too late to be anything but a symbolic gesture. He laughs and opens the door when they make it across the stoop. “Welcome to… one of my homes,” he says, holding the door open and closing it behind her when she enters the foyer.

“Wow,” she breathes, taking it in. The foyer floor is black and white checkered marble, and beyond it, dark cherry hardwood floors. A fireplace burns in the living room, antique furniture placed around it. Built in bookshelves are packed to capacity, and the modern paint colors and updated bar create a stunning juxtaposition. “Your townhouse also slipped and fell into the 1890s.”

He laughs, but the sound does not mask that of the lock being engaged. Scarlet turns to see the door firmly shut, and he is slipping out of his scarf and jacket. “Be a dear,” he says, hanging up his scarf first. “And pour me a drink.” He gestures to the bar before hanging up his coat.

Her lips twitch up, and she shifts her weight to one leg, stopping short of crossing her arms. “Is that what you wanted to bring me all this way for?”

Amusement dances in his eyes, but there is more than just that – something Scarlet can’t place. “No,” he answers softly with a matching smile. His hands move to the top button of his vest, and he begins to undo them slowly. He walks towards her with purpose, “But it is what I want right now.” He says, waiting until he is shoulder to shoulder to her before he does. He continues on, leaving her in his wake. She turns to watch where he goes and finds that he simply slips into the high back chair facing the fireplace. “And after that, I’ll want your opinion on something,” he says, though she can’t see him from where she’s standing.

She takes in a breath, and now that his gaze isn’t on her, she lets herself feel flustered, biting the inside of her lip. “What do you drink?” She asks finally, clicking across the marble, then hardwood, to make her way to the bar. She unbuttons her coat as she does, the room too warm for the heavy garment.

“The correct phasing for that question,” he chides from his seat as she makes it to the bar and surveys the variety of decanters. “Is ‘what would you like,” he pauses. “Sir?'”

Scarlet feels her breath catch in her throat and a flash of heat rip through her. She snaps her gaze a little too quickly to Roman, who she finds has unbuttoned not just his vest, but the shirt underneath. What is revealed is the grooved muscles of his chest and abdomen. She stares for an extra beat before she can voice the thought that, thankfully, came to her before seeing his bare chest. “So we’re roleplaying then?”

He arches an eyebrow at her, expectant.

“Sir?” She adds, rolling the word over her tongue, trying it out. She feels her lips turn up in a smirk and he mirrors it. He gives an incline of his head, but nothing else. When she considers the idea, she thinks she can work with a role play. Pretending to be someone else was one of the thrills of paying poker – and considering the situation she had gotten herself into this time – pretending to be anybody else is what might get her through the night with some remaining dignity. She remembers her task, and rephrases, “What would you like, sir?”

“Scotch,” he answers, letting his attention linger only a moment longer before looking to the fire. To Scarlet, it seems like a casual dismissal. The heat bursa escort she felt before rises to her chest in an irrational swell of outrage. “No ice,” he continues. She looks back to the bar, unsure of why his inattention bothers her so much. It could be that her center still throbbed from his cock being shoved inside of her, and she hadn’t expected him to recover so quickly. No, it was just her who could barely think straight. When she realizes she has no idea which decanter the scotch is in – they’re the same amber color – her anger is quelled and replaced with uncertainty. “Second to last on the right,” He speaks again and she is certain it is not the first time it seems as if he can read her thoughts.

She dismisses the notion. It’s impossible. And, she realizes with yet more mixed emotions, this is probably not his first time showing a woman his home. She finds a glass and fills it a quarter full from the decanter – second to last on the right. She realizes she is expected to serve him – he certainly doesn’t seem ready to meet her at the bar. Resisting the urge to lick her lips and ruin the freshly applied lipstick, she leaves her purse on the bar and takes measured steps to join him by the fire.

His gaze returns to her as her steps slow, and then stop. She stands between he and the fire, flames heating her backside and the glow of light outlines her legs, making the negative space between them transparent. She holds the glass out to him from the bottom, leaning forward as she does, letting her breasts fall forward and her necklace sway towards him. His gaze slips down to her breasts appreciatively, and doesn’t immediately reach to take the drink from her. “Thank you,” he says, removing the glass from her hand and leaning back in his chair. She stands straight again, but doesn’t move from her place in front of the heat.

He swirls the liquid in the glass as he lets his eyes roam the curves of her body. Inwardly, he plans the evening, taking each movement she makes, every word she speaks into consideration. He brings the tip of the glass to his lips and lifts, taking in a shallow sip of the amber liquid. It’s missing something – and he intends to remedy that soon. She watches him, and he can tell how eager she is, perhaps thinking her service would be brief, and the sooner it started, the better. He smiles at this thought and lets his arm holding the drink relax in his lap. “I am going to present you with many choices this evening,” he tells her, his tone uncompromising. “One choice I strongly advise against, is to disobey me.”

She wears the look of shock openly. Most women are not used to being spoken to as such these days, he reflects, but it is rarely a problem for long.

“We agreed to terms,” he goes on. “But allow me to clarify so we don’t have any misunderstandings tonight.” He holds her gaze, and when she doesn’t try to interrupt, he thinks the night is perfectly on track. “By agreeing to be mine, you have agreed to obey my commands, and submit to what pleases me. I am a man of my word, so when morning comes, you are welcome to be on your way. Until then…” he trails off, his hand tightening around the scotch glass and his lips turning up into a satisfied smile in way of finishing his thought. “Now,” he forces himself back to focus. “I would certainly hope your bond to your word is enough to honor this wager, but if that fails, I have other methods.”

He watches as her legs work to keep their strength. He’s seen plenty of women crumble at this point, and always enjoys the surprise of which one it will be. She wants to voice an inquiry as to what kind of methods he’s referring to, but smartly stays silent. Her eyes are a touch more glossy than before, and he admires her resolve. Sometimes that means they intend to run at the first chance they’re afforded – a fun game in its own right. But she has failed to glance towards the door they came through, and her thoughts are battling as they have been all night. He looks forward to finding out what her breaking point is.

“Am I clear?” He asks after giving ample time for her to have a reaction, one way or the other. She nods, and his expression darkens, “I want to hear the words.”

“Yes sir,” she answers quickly.

“Good girl,” he expression softens and he takes another sip of the scotch before discarding it on the table beside his chair. “Follow me,” he directs as he stands and walks without waiting to see if she follows.

She shivers when his back is turned to her, and lets herself linger for a second only before following in his wake. She stares at the loose vest as it hangs from shoulders, barely swaying as his movements are smooth and quiet. She realizes that she is trapped – having voluntarily crawled into the cage and having a look around before it snapped closed. She is not so dim that she doesn’t understand what’s happened. She would be a fool to insist she isn’t scared. But the fear is also exciting – and combined with a healthy survival instinct, malatya escort it is enough to keep her composure. She hopes, until morning.

She breaks from looking at his broad shoulders and glances around at the hallway he leads them into. Fine art decorates the walls, and they pass one door before he opens another and leads them into a bedroom. He turns to watch her reaction and she is glad she can meet his gaze instead of fixating on the massive bed in the room. He moves to stand beside a long dresser and gestures at the floor where he expects her to stand. She complies and he rewards her with a delicate touch on her chin. She likes the feeling of his touch on her skin – and she realizes that she is beginning to crave it.

“Regarding the need for your opinion,” he shifts to open the top drawer and it slides open easily, revealing a line of collars. Some are thick and ornate. Others are cold metal – one a choker, another a rigid ring. Brown and black leather is accented with silver loops on some. “Choose,” he tells her – and it is clear this is one of the aforementioned choices he has promised her.

If Scarlet felt like the walls had closed on her before, this was that same room shrinking around her. She looks from his waiting expression to the line of collars and knows her choice does not include declining the task. None of the collars look particularly comfortable – that might be antithetical to their purpose. She is tempted to choose the choker because it most resembles jewelry but knows it would be a mistake. Instead, her hand reaches out and touches a thick leather collar. It’s brown, and looks broken in.

“Very good,” He nearly purrs and puts his hand over hers, stopping her from picking it up. His free hand moves to take her chin in his grip, speaking low. “I am going to return to my drink. When you rejoin me, that collar should be the only thing you are wearing. Be sure it is not too loose.” His hand tightens around her chin and he strokes her cheek with his thumb before releasing. “Don’t be long,” he says and is on his way out.

Scarlet braces herself on the top of the dresser, leaning down and pressing her forehead to the hard surface. She curses mentally, but reaches down to rip off one shoe, and then the other. There’s a chair next to the dresser, and she places them under it. A moment later, her coat and dress are draped over the back, and her necklace is placed carefully on the seat. She had neglected to wear a bra – something Roman already very well knew – and he still had her underwear. When it got down to it, she hadn’t had a lot to remove in the first place.

She moves back to the open drawer and stares down at the brown leather collar with some amount of resentment. She doesn’t know if he realizes how much harder it will be for her to collar herself than if he had done it, but she suspects that is part of his fun. It makes it difficult for her to imagine what comes next with the burden of the leather around her neck. It is probably better that way – otherwise she might learn what the others who have tried run have.

Scarlet unbuckles the collar, finding it is heavier than she thought it would be. She wraps it around her own neck, her naked breasts rising as she lifts up her arms to do so. She recalls his words and finds the notch that will keep the leather snug against her skin. She is not surprised to find the difference between this notch and the next is significant. She flexes her neck muscles and feels her throat compress. Shit she thinks, and looks towards the doorway with more than a little trepidation.

Roman has to adjust himself where he sits to get comfortable. His erection is begging for release, but he stays himself. He tries to relax into the chair, drinking in the anticipation he’s engineered. There is, he reflects, nothing like a freshly minted pet to play with for a night.

He hears her bare feet on the hardwood and keeps his gaze straight, drawing out the reveal of what he knows will be worth the wait. When he can no longer bare it, he turns his head to see her approach. The collar is tight against her skin, and her breasts are perky with upturned and hard nipples. She moves to stand between he and the fire – close enough to reach out and touch – her gaze now anywhere but at him.

He nods his approval, bringing the scotch glass to his lips and parting them so the rest can slide into his mouth and down his throat. He leans forward, taking her hand, turning it up and placing the glass in her palm to hold. He pushes it away and to the side, so she is open to his gaze, and more importantly, hands. She complies without question or protest as he allows himself to reach up and trace the outside of her naked breast with his hand. He covers it, enjoying the feeling of her nipple in his palm. He takes a moment to roll the hard skin between his fingers, enjoying the jerk of motion of her body as it fights to stand in place. “Very nice,” he purrs, covering her breast again and massages, letting his other hand explore the curve of her hip, down her outer thigh, and then up her inner thigh. He stops short of parting her lower lips, and she shivers when his hand moves away. Her skin is flawless and tight, and he finds himself staring for an extra long beat. His touch and commentary on his findings makes her blush, and she turns her head to look at the floor.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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“What do you want from me?!” she whispered hoarsely, her voice quavering.

“You KNOW what I want!” he answered, his body pressed up against her, his warm breath made the hair on the nape of her neck flutter.

“I can’t do that, and you know it ….” she was almost begging now – begging him to back down.

But he was not going to be denied – not this time. He knew she was ready, she was just afraid, and a little fear in this instance was a good thing. Makes the heart beat a little harder, the skin flush.

He had been working her up to this point of submission for a long time – mostly by making her read erotic writings, watch videos, look through magazines. He had talked her through what he wanted. She knew the drill – – they had played lots of Dom/sub bedroom games – – but she had always managed to melt his heart just at the critical moment of pushing the envelope.

He took her shoulders into his strong hands, nuzzling at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “You’re gonna give it to me tonight, babe,” he told her. “And you’re gonna love what I make you do, and what it will do to you when I get you there!”

She began to tremble in earnest now. ‘Good girls don’t do this’ It was her mother’s voice that kept chorusing in her head. ‘Good girls hate sex. They never spread their legs, never cum, never let their lovers take them to new heights … and they CERTAINLY don’t do THIS!’ She shook her head, trying to clear her mother’s voice from it.

The head toss inflamed him, “So you say no?! Don’t you trust me?!” He turned her, almost viciously, holding her firmly by the shoulders and looking into her eyes.

“Yes, I trust you,” she said, lowering her eyes. Yes, she knew the drill.

“Prove it,” he said. “Get on your knees and suck my cock.”

This was the easy part. She liked the power of taking his flaccid cock into her soft, warm mouth and feeling it grow and pulse with life. She liked hearing his moans, feeling his hands in her soft hair guiding her movements. She liked watching his hands as he touched himself while she sucked him.

She wasn’t a swallower … which he had made mental note to work on .. but she didn’t mind being covered with his cum as the head of his cock expanded and belched it all over her.

At first, it had been almost humiliating to her, but once she discovered that not only did he NOT disrespect her for allowing him to cum on her – – that it actually drew him closer to her – – she was more open to allowing him further explorations into sex play that deviated from her pious upbringing.

She had been through so much in her life that being a submissive was very hard for her … hard for her to let go, hard for her to trust that he wouldn’t turn evil and that he knew when to stop. So many don’t. But as he proved to be a truly patient lover, she became more and more trusting, and more and more wanton.

He often found himself amazed at her hedonistic reactions to his domination. She became so much more alluring to him when she let herself go like that, because he knew she was leaping over huge walls to please him. This never went unnoticed and he took great care after each push forward in their sexual göztepe escort exploration to comfort and caress her – – to tell her how much she was loved and appreciated – – so that she didn’t think that he thought less of her.

Right at this very moment, however, his entire focus was on the bloated head of his cock that was being massaged by her throat. “Huuuuugggghhhh,” he groaned as she pulled back her mouth slowly. “I’m going to blow this load in your mouth, and you are going to swalloooooooowwww…..” his voice trailed off in another low growl as she tried to protest. “Take it, slave ….. take it aaHHHHHHLLLLLLLLLL…..” and he began to cum …. watching her try to swallow it, gagging, her eyes pleading with him.

He jerked his spewing cock from her mouth, and blew the last of his load on her – all over the clothes she was wearing, on her hair, in her face, and he watched as she crumpled in failure.

“Get up!” he ordered, taking her by the elbow and leading her roughly upstairs to their room.

She was somewhat afraid that she had displeased him to the point of anger, but when he pushed open the door and drug her inside, she noticed that their four-poster bed had been fitted with shackles and cuffs, there was a leather paddle, a feather duster, a sheepskin, and a leather collar studded with silver. Ah, yes. The thing. ‘We’re going to play that game’ she thought as he shoved her to the middle of the room.

“Strip,” he said, “but don’t wipe any of my cum off of your face or hair. I want you to reek of me.” Taking the submissive approach by looking at the floor; she began to strip; wondering if this time he would truly push them both to the brink of destruction.

She really wasn’t sure if she could go through with all of this, even as much as they had talked about it. Even as much as she loved and trusted him.

She felt the cool air as she took off her top, feeling her nipples stiffen in her bra. He groaned in appreciation and reached out to fondle them through her undergarments.

Suddenly overcome, he roughly pulled her to him for a kiss; a kiss which she resisted because of its fury, pushing against his broad shoulder and wriggling with all her might.

He pushed her away just as roughly, almost causing her to tumble into the floor. “I said GET NAKED” his voice was forceful – intimidating – and she quickly complied, standing soon before him as naked as the day she came into the world. “Don’t cover yourself with your hands! Come here and lie down.”

He pointed to the middle of the bed. She didn’t know whether to run to him or run away at this point, so she reluctantly moved forward, suddenly aware that her feet felt like lead. He shackled her to the bedposts, stopping along the way to take a nipple into his teeth and draw a gasp from her, or nipping her sharply on the thigh or stomach.

Once shackled, he blindfolded her, and began the task of teasing. He first ran the feather duster carefully here, there and yon, tickling the innermost part of her foot one minute, running it up the inside of her thigh the next. The sensations were overwhelming, and she was soon mewling çorlu escort and squirming with every pass. “I think you deserve a little reward,” he said into the vee of her legs. He positioned himself there, and with one giant sweep, passed his tongue up her pussy slit to collect all the juices that were there.

“Ooooohhhhhhh …” she arched, trying to get him to stay.

“Uh-uh-uh!” he said mockingly. “I said a reward … not the grand prize!”

His finger, however, penetrated her pussy as he spoke, bringing another pleading groan from her mouth. “My God, you’re wet!! Do you need to cum, slave?”

“Ohhhhhhh…..please ……… ”

“I’m waiting. You know how to ask me ….”

“PLEASE, Master, I beg of you … let me cum …”

He withdrew his finger. “I think not …” Her body sagged heavily on the mattress …. her moan catching in her throat … as he sucked her succulent juices from his fingers. “Ummmmm … you still taste like honey!! You still haven’t earned your cum, slave … but you will….you will …..”

She felt him uncouple the shackles, and felt him lock her wrist cuffs behind her. He removed the blindfold, and then pulled her to her feet. “It’s time…” he said, pulling her over his lap.

“I don’t think I can do this!” she begged, kicking half-heartedly, trying to fight his advances.

“Oh, yes you can! You want it … I felt how hot and wet your pussy was. Your juices are running like a faucet. Do you want to cum? Cum THIS way!” And he pulled her over his lap in one big jerk, her beautiful round ass upturned for his pleasure. “You are lying against my cock and it feels so good …. I can feel your body’s heat and trembling” he gripped the leather paddle with one hand, and the sheepskin with the other.

THWACK!

He swatted her ass …. and as she moaned in protest, he gently rubbed the red mark with the soft sheepskin.

TWACK!

The other buttock was reddened and soothed.

TWACK!

TWACK!

TWACK!

The paddling went on for some time. Her voice became strangled but she didn’t cry out loudly. Each glancing blow pushed her pubic mound into his thigh, her clit rubbed against his skin, keeping her on the edge of climax but not stimulating her enough to push her over.

By this time, a glistening sheen of sweat began to form on her body. The sweat mixed with the pre-cum dribbling from the head of his cock kept him lubricated as her body rocked back and forth against it with each down-swing. He finally looked at her shiney red ass and knew he had done it: he had pushed her to her brink. Now came the time to finish the job and take her anal cherry.

He eased the sobbing woman onto the floor face down and got between her legs. Leaning over her back, he whispered low: “Now we are going to finish this, and you are going to cum like you never have before. So am I. But you are going to have to trust me ….” and with that, he squirted some lube on his fingers and eased two of them into her ass, kissing and nibbling at each reddened buttock.

Her piteous moans turned him on somewhat. He knew she was getting turned ümraniye escort on or she would have used the safeword by now. He added a third finger to her ass while using his other hand to lube his raging hardon. He looked at her, half his hand buried in her asshole, the redness on her asscheeks from the paddling; she was submitting to it all, and she was getting turned on because of it. God, how he loved this woman! He uncoupled her arms and pulled her hips up into a kneeling position, and positioned himself for entrance into her virgin passage.

He put the head of his cock at her sphincter and said, “It’s time,” then began to push, encouraging her to push back against him by pulling on her hips.

“OOOOHHHhhhhh … go slow! You’re so BIGGGGGGGG….” she moaned into the carpet.

He pushed in a little farther, holding to let her get accustomed to it … then pushed farther still. Soon he was buried to the balls in her luscious ass, and they were both moaning.

He began to gently fuck her, and while doing so he reached carefully for the paddle and sheepskin once again. He could feel her anal muscles grip him in stubborn defiance, so he pushed his cock in to the hilt, and gave her three solid smacks, followed by gentle massages. Each time, he felt her insides leap, and felt her moan loudly. He knew she was at the abyss … now to push her over.

He was still buried in her as far as he could go. He reached under her, and had her raise up, so that her back was against his chest. With one hand, he reached for her sensitive nipples (‘Damn! forgot the nipple clamps!’ he thought moment), and with the other, he reached for her clit. It was engorged and distended beyond what he had ever thought possible – keeping her on the edge was exactly what he had done.

“Cum for me, slave.” he said hotly into her ear, licking and sucking at the lobe.

“Your clit is so hard …. I feel your ass milking me. I know you want to …. you liked being spanked, didn’t you?!?”

“Uuuhhhgggg….. .oooohhhh godddddd yeeessssss…….” He strummed her clit with gentle well-practiced fingers.

“Then cum for me ….. let your ass suck my cum from my balls ….. ” he began to thrust carefully …. allowing her body to react to his cock and stimulate him. He continued to talk into her ear, talking her through some mild cums until he knew she was staring into the face of a huge orgasm.

Without warning, he was suddenly there himself, and he managed to croak out, “Ohhhhhh … gggggodddddddd ……. IIII’m gonna cuuummmmm…. aaaahhhhhhhhh” and he bit her gently on the nape of her neck, right where it drove her crazy, as he pushed his throbbing cock as deeply into her ass as he could get it.

His thumb and forefinger of one hand gripped her clit, the other hand twisted a nipple mightily, and when she felt his cockhead expand and pulse in her ass, the stimulus was too much. She screamed for the first time that night …… and then sagged against him. She had blacked out.

She awoke to find herself back in the middle of the bed, a towel under her sore ass to catch any remainders. He was tipped up on one elbow, gazing at her lovingly.

“Hey, babe, you okay?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.

“Yeah … that was amazing …” she sighed.

With a gentle sweep, he brushed her hair back off of her forehead, “No, YOU were amazing,” he said and he kissed her there.

She turned her face toward him …. her eyes shining. ” Soooo …… when can we play that game again?”

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I was getting kind of concerned. He had been pouting around the house for two whole days now. I was used to his mercurial moods shifting quickly and was adept at reading and adapting to them as they came. However, it was very seldom that such a heavy mood came to rest upon him for so long. I knew it was my fault but I also knew that nothing I could say at this point would be helpful so I decided to stay quiet. I also knew that once he was ready I was going to pay. It had only been, (in my opinion at least) a set of minor transgressions, but it was my refusal to apologize or show even a modicum of remorse that had led him to freeze me out, the worst type of punishment for an attention seeking brat (me) whose own moods were often defined by his approval, or lack thereof.

We were only having polite conversation and limited interactions. I was pretending that I didn’t care, laughing extra loud as I watched TV or talking super loud to my mom or my friends on the phone as I paced passed him down the hall. He sat in his office chair and stared stoically at his laptop, only slight inflections of his eyebrows let me know he even paying attention. At this point I could have gone on both knees and begged forgiveness and he would have stepped over (or on) me on his way out the door. He was so frustratingly stubborn! But then again if I would have just apologized right after I got home late and was a little tiny bit tipsy then I probably would have saved myself, and him, a whole lot of heartache. Part of me wondered if he didn’t also know about the guy at the bar who kept hitting on me or that I kinda liked it.

Regardless, here I was, day three, still all frozen out and not sure what to do. I was lounging in bed as he got up to get ready for work. I was watching him pick out clothes, our normal morning chit-chat conspicuously absent. The pull between us was still strong and this fact alone kept me from freaking out completely but I was starting to get a little depressed from the lack of his affections. He kept glancing at me, both directly and out of the corner of his eye but wouldn’t make eye contact. I thought he might have been softening but I couldn’t be sure. He finished dressing, then quickly did his hair and brushed his teeth in the bathroom before heading out the door.

No smile. No kiss. Not even a darn good bye. Definitely not softening, I thought pessimistically. I sighed and got out of bed, I was going to clean the house and do the laundry and cook something amazing for dinner. And workout and have something sexy on for him when he got home. Basically do everything in my power to get him to forgive me. I set about getting it all done, starting with making the bed, when the text message alert on my phone went off. My heart leapt when I saw it was from him, but anxiety took over when I read it.

“I’ll be home at 6pm. Be ready.”

I knew exactly what he meant and while I was happy for the contact, I was worried about what was to come. The alpha, dominant part of him was a big part of what had attracted me to him. I was a rebel at heart but with him, I was naturally submissive. It felt so good the way he was able to bring out and intensify that part of me while still allowing me to maintain my independence. We were a perfect match, our strengths and weaknesses both corresponding and congruent. We fit together like puzzle pieces, only truly feeling whole when we were snapped together snuggly.

The caveat, however, to our intense connection was that when things were off, it threw us into a kind of raw emotional tailspin. When my rebellious side decided to rear it’s head and I did something that displeased him, well that was the worst. He was so used to my near obsequious behavior that when I reverted and did something that went against his wishes, it hurt his feelings and forced him away from me and into himself. Which, in turn, left me feeling empty and guilty and helpless to fix the situation because once that line was crossed, he had to come out of it on his own. And when he came back, there was always a price in order to right the wrong.

And the ‘makeup’ sex, well that was electrifying. It was the victory dance at the end of an arduous battle. The deprivation and sadness in between only served to further heighten the levels of ecstasy when we came back together. When he ‘forced’ to me to submit to him, it flipped a switch in both of us that gave us an immense, all consuming level of physical and mental gratification. I loved giving çeşme escort myself over to him completely, bestowing upon him my trust and faith, knowing that he would never take advantage of or extort my vulnerability. He knew and understood my limits but always pushed just a little bit past them because I loved and could almost always handle a challenge. Which is why I loved him so much.

It had been a while since I had upset him like this. We mostly lived in harmony, a mutual desire for a drama-less life and a great deal of symbiosis working in our favor. But when I was bad….

I couldn’t help but wonder what was in store for me as I cleaned and straightened our home and browsed through the kitchen in search of meal inspiration. Drinking without him was strike one. He liked to monitor my intake, let me know when I had had enough and always made sure I got home safely. Strike two was driving home afterward. Even though I wasn’t drunk, not even close, I should have called him. It would have made him feel better if nothing else. Lastly, I was home two hours later than I was expected and I had left my phone in my purse on silent, missing his numerous calls and texts. Strike three.

Any one of these and I could have overcome his wrath, silent as it was, more or less right away. Any two and I could have wriggled back into his good graces with just a little extra effort, I definitely wouldn’t have minded that. But all three?! I honestly had no idea what he had planned. I knew that it would be harsh and I would be sore afterward but I was still willing to endure whatever it was in order to restore the balance I had so selfishly thrown off kilter. Plus I knew he would eventually give me all of the pleasure he had been denying back a thousandfold. As nervous as I was, I felt myself opening up, getting wet and excited as I readied myself for him.

By 5:57 I was ready to go. I was wearing a lacy black negligee with translucent bra cups that showed off my pink nipples and matching thigh highs held up by a black belt and suspenders. A skimpy red robe covered me up but still allowed a sneak peak into my cleavage and of my legs. I was completely shaved and wearing his favorite perfume. My hair was back and up, makeup perfection, a little eye shadow with a slutty red lip, my naturally rosy cheeks blushed further with arousal and nervous anticipation. I hoped he wouldn’t keep me waiting; although I understood that punishment would fit the crime, I didn’t think I could take much more time away from him.

Luckily at exactly six o’clock I heard the garage door open. My insides clenched up as the seconds it took for him to park and find his way inside felt like hours. When the door finally opened I held my breath as I heard his footsteps come through the kitchen and into the living room where I was waiting. Our eyes met for the first time in nearly three days and immediately my spirits soared. It was almost embarrassing how happy he could make me. He looked me over, saw my hopeful grin, and a wry smirk passed over his face.

“Hey,” I said, quietly, not taking my eyes off his.

He didn’t answer. He instead left me sitting on the couch as he went into our bedroom, to change, I presumed and drag out my torture just a little bit longer no doubt. I tried not to grow impatient as I waited for him but as the minutes ticked by I started to become concerned. Had I misunderstood something? Had I done something wrong? The doubts had just started to flood my mind when finally, mercifully, he emerged. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans along with a scowl that marred his handsome face.

“Hey?!” he mocked loudly when he finally deigned to speak to me and I cringed. He obviously was not going to make this easy. He walked over towards me and roughly placed over my eyes a blindfold that he securely tied behind my head. He then put over my mouth a ball gag, forcing my mouth open and my teeth around it. He secured that as well then sat down next to where I was on the couch and roughly threw me across his lap. I cried out as I felt him lift up my robe and push aside my nightie so he could access my ass and begin my punishment.

“Shut up!” he said as he smacked my ass hard, the stinging slap beginning my journey towards submission. I tried to cry out softly and felt the tears spring to my eyes behind my blindfold earlier than normal as I felt the true extent of his anger at my actions expressed başakşehir escort in his assault on my ass. He slapped me several more times, each one harder than the prior, until I could no longer contain my grief and began sobbing around my gag. He stopped smacking me and started rubbing my ass and then my back as I cried, mistakenly letting me think it was nearly over until he suddenly went back to spanking me, spurred on by my infant-like wailing.

He stopped again when my ass was burning and most certainly redder than my cheeks and slid his hand towards my pussy which, despite my dramatics, was wet and warm as he shoved in two fingers. My sobs slowly turned into muffled moans as he fingered me and I desperately tried not to move back against him, lest he stop his ministrations and the pleasure to cease. I also knew not to cum until he said I could and that time was certainly not now so I chose to just take in the pleasure he was allowing me and forced myself to follow the rules. It felt so good, the pleasure he was giving me with his fingers such a heavenly distraction from the pain in my ass.

“You are such a slut,” he snarled as he felt me get wetter and wetter with every movement of his fingers. “Too bad I’m not going to let you cum yet,” he finished, removing his fingers as I groaned. I felt him reach forward, over me, to grab something off the table near our couch. I heard something rattling and squirting noises as he worked on something on my back. I then felt him slide a lubed finger into my ass, opening me up and then a fair amount of pressure as he slid something hard into my ass. A butt plug, I knew, but not one I had felt before. I heard some clicking noises and then felt my ass start to vibrate in tiny pulses that awoke the nerves there and started a wonderful tingling to spread throughout my body.

As the pleasure began to overtake my body, he again reached forward and grabbed something from the table. Before I had a chance to react or wonder, the hard wooden paddle hit my ass with great force. I screamed out as loudly as my gag would allow and was rewarded with another, harder smack.

“Do you know why you are being punished?” He asked me in between smacks. I nodded furiously, turning my head back towards him wishing I could look into his eyes. He hit me again and told me to keep my head down. I complied quickly. “You know how I worry,” he said, again smacking me hard with the paddle and upping the level of the vibration on the plug. The combination of pain and pleasure hit my brain and immediately I was in my sub space. My body and mind were surrendering to him completely. My pussy was gushing with wetness and I was hovering dangerously close to an orgasm but was determined to keep it away.

I was alternating between cries of pleasure and wails of pain but the true intensity was emanating from my brain. He continued smacking me hard with the paddle, alternating sides and pushing and tugging slightly on the plug in between. Just when I thought I could take no more he stopped smacking and dropped the paddle on the table. He pushed me off his lap and onto the ground.

“All that noise you made gave me a hard-on, now you need to suck my cock. I’m going to take off the gag but don’t say a word or I will use the paddle again. Do you understand?” I nodded, my ass on fire but the warm tingling from the plug and the thought of his cock in my mouth was stronger than the pain. He removed the gag and the blindfold then sat back and waited.

I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the light. He had already removed his pants and lowered his boxers; he guided my head towards his thick, hard cock, apparently anxious for me to begin. I tried to start slowly but he wasn’t having it. He shoved my head down roughly, gagging me, and held my head there for several seconds as I struggled to breathe and to not fight against him. He then slowly eased my head up and I quickly gasped for air before he shoved my head down again.

This time I was better prepared, I fought against my gag reflex and took in air through my nose as he held my head down on his cock. When he loosened his grip I knew that was my cue and I started to move my head up and down the way I knew he liked it, my tongue actively stimulating all of the right spots on his hard shaft. I sucked him in and then let go, coming to suck just on the head before releasing him with a pop. I looked up at him, his eyes were closed küçükçekmece escort and he was almost relaxed but they sprung open when I stopped and I immediately began again.

His hands were buried in my hair and I could feel his nails at the back of my neck as he guided my head down his cock, my mouthy willingly opening to take him in and suck on him, hard, all the way down and back up again over and over again as he started moaning and I felt him swell in my mouth and could taste the pre-cum as he got closer and closer. I moved my head faster and increased the suction as I brought one hand to rub his balls and soon he was cumming with a moan, hips coming up off the couch as I caught and swallowed the hot juice he was shooting into my hungry mouth.

His grip on my hair did not loosen as he finished, he pulled my head up by it once I had taken all he had to give. He still was not smiling but his eyes had softened and taken on the horny, lustful look that I knew all too well. “Good start,” he said, grabbing the remote and upping the speed on the butt plug. “I bet you want to cum, don’t you?” He asked, knowing that sucking his cock always made me horny.

I nodded as the pulses in my ass got stronger and he laughed. “Too bad,” he said sarcastically, looking at me writhe in pleasure from the vibrations. Now that he had cum I knew he could keep me on edge for hours if he wanted. He stood up and pulled me into the bedroom, removed my robe and motioned for me to hop up on the bed. I saw that he had a set of restraints laid out already as I climbed up on to the bed. I spread my arms and legs out obediently so he could fasten them to me and then to the bed securely. Once that was done he refastened the blindfold around my eyes and the gag around my mouth.

He then moved between my legs and brought his face to my warm pussy. I felt the tip of the plug push it further into my ass and the vibrations were so near my pussy that I didn’t think it would take much for me to cum so I prayed he wouldn’t spend too much time there. Soon I felt his fingers slide into me and directly to my g-spot just as his tongue flicked out to find my swollen clit. Immediately, the orgasm hit me at full speed and nothing I could do would’ve stopped it. My incoherent moans that I tried to subside, along with the bucking of my hips gave away what I wanted to hide. I could feel his glare but I didn’t think it was fair.

“Wow, I don’t remember telling you you could cum….” he said quietly, rubbing my legs softly. He knew what he was doing, he just wanted me to suffer some more, I silently thought, giving him a hidden glare of my own. “You can glare at me all you want but you broke the rules…again,” he finished as he started untying me. Apparently even with my eyes covered my expressions were readable.

“Turn over,” he said sharply when I was unfettered. I did so and he quickly set about tying me back to the bed, face down, ass up, and I knew what was coming. He removed the gag but kept the mask on. I felt him come and sit on my legs, rubbing my ass and thighs with his hands. He reached up and slowly began to remove the plug from my ass. When it was out, he tossed it aside and began smacking my ass again with one hand while slowly working two fingers in to my ass. I moaned out and he smacked me harder back into submission and I tried to keep quiet.

I had never been into anal until he had shown me how good it could be and now I liked it almost as much as when he fucked my pussy. But this was not about my pleasure, and when I felt him pull out his fingers and shift his weight off my legs I braced myself. He used his hand to pull apart my creamy cheeks and placed the tip of his cock right on my rosebud. He did not waste any time with gentleness before plunging his entire dick into my ass. The leftover lube from the plug did little to ease my discomfort as he roughly began fucking me.

I sucked in my breath and tried to relax as his hands came up to my throat and gently squeezed, cutting off my air supply and causing momentary panic to come over me. He released after a few seconds and I gasped before he did it again, this time heightening my pleasure and causing a deep moan to come from my throat. The vibrations went straight to his cock and when he grasped my throat again he held on a bit tighter before yelling out that he was cumming in my ass. I nearly blacked out before he let go and collapsed on top of me. I reveled in feeling him so close to me, loved how his body felt on mine and sighed in ironic contentment. He kissed the back of my neck and whispered in my ear how very much he loved me.

After a few minutes he got up and untied me, removed my blindfold and took his place in our bed behind me. His arms came out to pull me closer to him and again we were one. Until the next time at least.

The end.

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

“Yeah, yes! You did hear him call me mistress. I stupidly went to a costume party dressed all in leather and he’s been teasing me about it, ever, since…Mistress, this, Mistress, that…” She lied.

“I’m just tired of it.”

“Oh, really?” Justin said laughing. “I’d like to see that costume.”

The conversation went back to normal and they past the time easily, enjoying each other’s company.

Justin walked her to her car.

“I had a really good time, tonight.”

“So did I.” She said, shaking her head earnestly.

They almost kissed, but embraced instead. Terry didn’t believe in kissing on the first date.

“I hope to see you, again, soon…”

“…Well, I just moved into my new apartment…”

“I’m having a house-warming, this Saturday. You’re welcome to come by. It starts around noon…”

“I’d love to” He said…

And he turned to walk to his car. They both looked back at each other, again. Smiling and waving.

~~~~

Since that close call, Terry was on auto-pilot, when it came to her work. Luckily, clients took her indifference as dissatisfaction with them and they worked that much harder, for her.

She was gifted at her work. Embarrassed as she was about it, she was loathed to admit, she started to really like playing that character, dressing up in her intricate outfits. She felt like a goddess. That part frightened her. Was she some kind of pervert??

She just didn’t want Justin to find out.

~~~~

On the day before her house-warming, Kendra called her excitedly…

“Girl, you won’t believe who just rolled into town, asking for your type…”

Kendra said nothing, probably hoping for guesses.

“…Well, don’t leave me in suspense, girl, who?”

“I’ll give you a hint…” Kendra paused again and said…”THIS.IS.SPARTAAA!!”

“No way…NO WAY!!”

“Girl, I told you, you’d be surprised who’s into this stuff.”

“Terry shook her head on the other end of the phone. It all makes sense now. He dated the queen of dominance, Naomie Campbell.”

They both laughed heartily, over that.

“Well, all I can say, is I. AM. jealous…”

“Don’t be…He may be fine, but I have no interest in bearing witness to his perversions…”

“Indulging them honey, Indulging them…” Kendra corrected.

“Just go to the Hilton Grand, room 206 tonight at 7.”

“And you better tell me EVERYTHING…”

“Client confidentially, remember?”

Kendra started to cuss…

“I’m kidding..” Terry said laughing.

She replaced the receiver and took a deep breath…She’d never serviced anyone, this big before…

Millionaires, politicians, but never any stars. Kendra had, though. Tarentino was a particularly kinky one, he loved having Kendra shove her bare feet into his face.

~~~~~

Terry picked her sexiest outfit, all the while, second-guessing herself…

“What are you doing? You have a date with Justin tomorrow, remember?”

It was a glossy black, latex, halter, mini-dress, that flared out a bit at her thighs. She wore the highest stilettos she could bare and still walk in them and last but not least, she pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, which draped over her shoulder.

It was cold, so she had an excuse to be as covered up, as she was…but if anyone looked too closely, they would notice her shoes.

~~~

She took tuzla escort a deep breath and knocked on his door…

‘Who is it? ” He asked in his thick Scottish brogue.

“Your appointment.” she answered.

The door, opened…

“Well, come in, come in.” He said.

She entered his room and shed her coat…

He looked her up and down, smiling…

“Wow” He said. “Just as advertised.”

“Mistress Xenobia, is it?”

“Yes, Gerald…” she said pronouncing his name in his native tongue…There is, she learned, much power in a name. “Your safe word is “fence”.

He knelt before her…”What would you have me do, dark queen?”

“Mistress, Xenobia.”..She corrected roughly angling his jaw up with her hand… This was not as rough, as with her usual clients.

In her head, she was shrieking like a fan-girl, but on the outside, she played the game, easier on him then the others, but she still played.

“Strip.” She commanded.

He began to shed his clothes.

“QUICKLY!!” She said shoving him hard in the back of the head. He did as he was told, quickly taking off everything, down to his birthday suit…

She was impressed. Those muscles she saw in that movie, were no special effect. His hair had grown out from the Caesar cut, he had in the film…

“She flipped it with her hands, pretending to be disgusted… “Your hair is too long…”

“I’m growing it out for ro-“

She slapped him…”Did I give you permission to speak?”

He licked a spot at the corner of his mouth where there was a little blood.

She lifted her leg and placed her spiked heel on his shoulder…Digging it in painfully.

“I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!!”

“No, Mistress…”

He eyes followed her lifted leg, giving him a nice view of her shimmering, sheer, black panties…

She quickly dropped her leg…

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing, Mistress.” He said dropping his eyes to the floor…

She could see that was he hardening a bit, quite a lot, in fact.

“You want to touch me?”

“Yes, Mistress, very much…”

“You’re not good enough to touch me…”

“I know Mistress.” She slapped him again…”You don’t follow instructions, very well, do you?”

She went into her usual script, belittling whatever she could…

“You’re some kind of male slut aren’t you? That’s why you hired me.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“I’ve seen you parading around with woman, after woman…”

“I bet you’re diseased…” She said….dragging a nail across the back of his neck.

“No, mistress…” Another slap.

“…You’re not even a good actor…”

“You should go back to Scotland” She said, bending over, to whisper into his ear…

“You deserve to be punished…” She said yanking him back by his hair.

She retrieved a thick white rope from her bag and proceeded to tie his hands, behind his back.

“You’re touching me, now…”

“Are you grateful?”

“Yes, very grateful, Mistress…” He replied breathing hard.

She circled him, trying decide what to do next…Her mind was whirling…She could easily cross the line, but Justin, she thought.

She wanted to cross the line.

But her date tomorrow…

But oh, my God, he looked so sexy, completely nude, hard as rock…Breathing hard like that, pendik escort he wanted her so badly…

“Fuck it” She thought and reached her hand out to touch his lips…He sucked her fingers into his mouth, saying “mmm…”

“Did I give you permission to, to…”

She felt delirious…

She pulled her hand from his mouth and stood back, trying figure out her next move…

He could tell her game, might be coming to an end…And he smiled.

She walked over to him, slowly…sliding up her skirt.

Her sex was mere centimeters away from his face…

She turned so her right hip brushed his lips…

“Bite it.” She commanded.

And he knew exactly what she meant. Her panties had snaps on the sides…

“He used his teeth to undo the first and when she turned, he did the other side, as well.

Her panties fell away, revealing a neatly trimmed, pussy, glistening with her arousal.

“You, -you, want to taste me, don’t you…”

“Yes…” He said softly. “Very much, Mistress…” He was breathing heavily.

She closed the gap between them and he leaned in exploring her pussy with his talented tongue…

She drew a sharp intake of breath. This was heavenly. Fuck, crossed lines…

He flattened his tongue and rolled it along her sex, like a wave, causing that very sensation, waves of pleasure flooding through her body. She shuddered and propped her hand on his shoulder, to steady her self…

Then he plunged his tongue, deeply into her pussy (my God! It was long) while his upper-lip pressed against her clit…

That was it…She came…HARD….

“OhshitOhshitOhshit!”

She propped both hands on his shoulders steadying herself. She felt like she might faint.

When her strength returned, she backed away from his wet mouth…He was a messy eater.

He looked at her intensely and she read his mind…

“Get these ropes off, so I can fuck you properly” His face was saying.

She ran around behind him, undid the intricate knot, and he immediately turned around, grabbing her around the waist. He picked her up, carrying her towards his bed…

She kissed him, tasting herself on his lips. He cupped her ass, lifting her so her legs wrapped around his waist…

He didn’t make it to his bed. They toppled onto a side-table while she leaned back on her hands, sweeping papers and knick-knacks off and gaining leverage.

He fucked her hard and fast….

She came first, his quick thrusts pounding away at her delicate flesh.

“OOOoooooooooh!!!”

And then he came, “SHIT!” gripping her hips, pulling her flush against his body.

They looked at each other for a moment and then kissed again…This time, they made it to the bed.

~~~~

When she woke up the next morning, she realized the gravity of what she had done…

And then she noticed the time.

Gerard, lay, still slumbering. She didn’t want to disturb him. She gathered her shoes, slide on her skirt and picked up her coat.

She couldn’t find her panties.

She wrapped herself in her coat and tip-toed out of the room…

~~~~

When she got to her apartment, guilty emotions flooded her mind.

“What have I done?…I FUCKED a client…”

“I cheated on my date…My date who’s coming over TODAY.”

“Shit! Shit maltepe escort SHIT!”

She set about preparing for the house-warming, pleased to have something to do, to take her mind off…(that MIND-BLOWING sex with) Gerard.

~~~

Oli’ and Kendra arrived first.

They could see, right away something was wrong…

Kendra said something first…”Okay, girl, what did you do?”

Terry looked up at her, guiltily.

“…Ooooooh, you didn’t…”

“YOU DIDN’T!”

Oli’ looked at both of them, amped to hear something juicy.

“She didn’t what?”

“…FUCK GERARD BUTLER.”

Oli’s mouth fell open…. And then he said… “Huney, don’t feel bad, I woulda’ fucked him too.”

“But I have a date today, with a really nice guy, who I like!”

“Listen.” Kendra said, “It’s alright…Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to slip…”

“You mean…”

“-Yes girl, with this banker so fine, you would look at him and cry.”

“So, don’t beat yourself up. Just count this as a memory to go down in the books. When you’re old, you can recount the tale of your juicy night, with some old matinée idol.”

“I guess, you’re right…No big deal.”

“That’s the spirit! Now, let’s set up.”

~~~~

When Justin arrived at around noon, the place was bustling with old friends…

They chatted, again hitting it off.

The party lingered into the night when everybody was liquored-up and dancing…”This Is How We Do It” played on the I-pod and everybody began to dance their asses off…Throwing up their hands and pumping it, like it was their birthday.

Justin lead Terry out to the fire escape.

The sat together, away from the noise, watching the few stars they could see, in the city night sky.

Justin reached out and took her hand.

“This is nice.”

“Yes, it really is…”

They looked at each other for a moment longer and then kissed…..

Suddenly a drunken party-goer came hanging out the window, slurring…

“Shit, sorry I didn’t mean to bust your groove, but there’s some guy at the door, saying you have to sign for something.”

Terry, excused herself and went to the door.

“Yes?”

The delivery boy held up a large box. “Lady, you need to sign for this”

“Sure.”

She quickly signed and looked at it, puzzled. “I wonder who this is from?” She thought.

“Well, open it up” …one of her friends encouraged.

The other party-goers, joined in chanting.

She held her hand up…”Okay, okay!”

When she saw what was inside, she went pale and then darkened.

There were a dozen white orchids, HER MISSING PANTIES, and a note from Gerard Butler.

“There was a lot of tissue paper so she, slickly hid the panties and note underneath the tissue-paper and held up the flowers.”

“Justin did you do this?” She said, holding an orchid in her hand, smelling it.

She was good.

Justin nodded no, while frowning. “You must have a secret admirer…” He said, not too kindly.

Terry chuckled nervously…”I don’t have anything to put these, in…”

“I’ll be right back…”

She went into the bathroom, stuffing the panties into her pocket…She paused to read the note.

Missed you this morning. 898- 555-2814 GB

She sighed deeply and stuffed it into her other pocket.

She quickly grabbed a basket, by the tub that was full of fancy soaps. She dumped them into another basket and arranged the orchids inside.

She left the bathroom, a triumphant smile on her face…

“How does this look?”

Everyone “Ohh”ed and “Aww”ed.

Except Justin…

He spotted her black panties, hanging from her pocket.

END PART 2

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

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

She waited in the room until it was time to leave. The wind was strong enough to force her to have tied a scarf around her perfect hair, and the temperature was neither warm nor cool; about 60 degrees, which was as good as it got in this area in late March. The weather was dry but Daddy insisted that she wear her raincoat both during the drive to this town and while she walked to the bar. “Otherwise,” he said, “people will think you’re a street walker.”

“Isn’t the idea to grab attention?” she retorted playfully.

“Yes,” he said, “but only from your, shall we call them, ‘prey’; not the God damn police.”

A little crestfallen, she answered, “Sorry Daddy. You’re right. But it won’t take away from my entry. I can make a good show of taking it off and smoothing down my dress. It might even be better that way.”

He nodded slightly but continued to frown. The conversation and his mood bothered her, but not enough to abandon her project. Indeed, so strongly did she desire this that she would have proceeded even without Daddy’s help, despite the fact that she was his property. Love him though she did, this particular compulsion drove her like the demons of hell. Folly or not, dangerous or safe, she had to do this. He knew that, which was the only reason he had any part in the matter.

The bar they’d picked for her hunting ground was just down the block from an inexpensive motel on the town’s main road. They had chosen a small city about 20 miles from where they lived so as to minimize the chance of the Slut being seen by anyone who knew her. In those days, most Southern towns had a black side and a white side. The land near this border was the cheapest to be had on the white side and attracted the kind of businesses that didn’t ask many questions so long as the customers paid cash and didn’t cause a disturbance.

Her master had easily attained three rooms, upstairs and at the end of the building. The party room was last and the monitor room next to it with a connecting door between. The third room was to remain empty and be a buffer. Together with the trip to New Orleans, the clothes and shoes, and these rooms, his Slut’s fixation was costing him more money than he could comfortably afford.

He had driven to the motel alone earlier that afternoon. He’d setup and tested the surveillance equipment after making sure that the maid had already done her rounds. He was certain nobody in the party room would notice the small camera and microphone. Then he drove back home and waited for the Slut to finish dressing. When she was ready, they returned to the rooms for a final check and go over the plan, which was for her to walk to the bar at 6:50, use the time before 8 to make her pickups, walk back to the party room with the men, have her party and make the men leave at 10.

It was now six o’clock, and he didn’t feel like spending the next 50 minutes discussing her excitement over picking up several strange men, returning here and letting them gangbang her for two hours. There was nothing else to do but wait. He lay on a bed in the monitor room and tried to nap while she sat in the party room. He had turned the a/c unit on high to keep the room from getting stuffy and so, she kept the raincoat on while she waited.

Precisely at 6:50, just as the twilight turned dark and and the streetlights came on, the Slut arose to leave. Her master had taken care of everything, so there was nothing left to do but pick up the clutch that perfectly matched her shoes, open the door and proceed to the bar.

The shoes Daddy had bought her in New Orleans were perfect. The three inch heels were just high enough to show off her legs but low enough be comfortable. Likewise, the black suede straps were soft and did not rub her feet and the heel was substantial, not spiky. Altogether, she could walk a great distance in them and not wobble or get a blister.

As the Slut walked the long city block toward the bar, she observed a policeman cruising by in the opposite direction, obviously heading back toward the white side of town. The cop glanced over toward her and slowed down, looking at her hard. Young white women were rare in that part of town and therefore suspicious. She kept walking at the same pace and used her peripheral vision to see there was a black man in the back of the cruiser leaning forward. “Probably handcuffed,” she thought. “Well, his bad luck and my good luck. No way that cop will bother me.” As she predicted, the officer returned his eyes to the road and increased his speed.

The Slut entered the doorway of the bar slowly, allowing the dim parking lot lights to form a silhouette of her for a few seconds while she examined the layout. The place, called the “Kung Fu Club”, sported a 30 foot bar with stools, about twenty tables, and a small stage. There was equipment on the stage, so a band was to be expected later. She looked over at the bartender who stood behind the bar about midway down and then slid her sultry gaze further toward the end. There stood a tall, well-built man, with a small Afro leaning maltepe escort on his elbow against the bar. Apparently, he had been talking to the woman sitting on the stool next to him. They were both staring at her; she with venom and he with appreciation.

The Slut gave the pair that small half-grin she used when being confident and sexy. She stood by a table and set down her small clutch bag. Then, not looking directly at the two down the bar, she began removing her scarf. While doing this, she noticed that at least four of the tables had occupants, mostly men with a few women scattered among them. Also, she could tell there was at least one pool table towards the back by the restrooms because she heard a sharp crack indicating somebody had broken a rack of balls, and then nothing. Without looking up, she could feel a couple of dozen pairs of eyes boring into her. “Good,” she thought. “It’s show time.”

Facing sideways to most of the patrons, she folded her scarf carefully and placed it in the pocket of her coat. Loosening the coat’s belt, she then began slowly removing it, making sure to flex her shoulders so that her chest stuck out and everyone could see outline of her breasts. Her large and prominent nipples pressed tight against the thin, clingy material of the dress revealing clearly that she wore no bra. Placing the coat on the table, she turned her back to the patrons, bent over about ? of the way and began pulling up and smoothing first one stocking and then the other. This had the effect of giving everyone: 1) a good look at the shape of her bum; 2) knowledge that she wore no panties; 3) the fact that she was wearing sexy lace-top stay up stockings.

When she turned to face the denizens of the establishment, she ran her hands down over her body, smoothing the dress and tugged down the hem. She was smuggly pleased to see pop-eyed admiration on the face of every man and hatred on those of the women. Picking up her clutch, she cat walked to the jukebox, breasts jiggling alluringly, inserted some money, and chose “Kung Fu Fighting,” both in honor of the joint’s name and because she liked the song.

Walking back toward her table, she gave the bartender a sultry smile that he hesitatingly returned. Upon reaching her table, she kept eye contact with him and continued smiling. He began to be puzzled. Then he saw her place her hand on the back of her chair while she pursed her lips at him as if she were waiting for something. He suddenly realized what she was waiting for, hurried from behind the bar, walked quickly over to her and held out the chair for her to sit. She intensified her smile to the point that it would have paralyzed a blind man and said, “Thank you,” in a rich, sexy voice.

He nearly stammered but managed, “You welcome, miz. What kin eyes bring you to drink?”

She said, “Vodka on the rocks, please Ben,” having glanced at his name tag.

Ben nearly ran back to the bar, mixed the drink double strength using the special bottle of Stolichnaya he kept for only for certain people, brought it back on a tray, placed a napkin on the table, and the drink on the napkin.

Everybody in the bar starred disbelievingly at this show. They were lucky if Ben didn’t throw their drinks at them. And he sure as hell didn’t come out from behind the bar to serve drinks. And he sure as double hell wouldn’t run to a table to pull out a chair, not even for God Almighty Himself. Who the fuck was this woman?

The Slut sipped her drink as Ben stood there. She said, “That’s a damn good drink, Ben. Thank you very much,” and reached for her purse.

Ben said, “Drink’s on dey house, miz. Yo done played ma favrit song. Named dey bar aftah it.” After another paralyzing smile, Ben was gone back to the bar.

The Slut took another slow sip of her drink. She allowed a few drops to run down the side of the glass, giving her the opportunity to extend her tongue and lick the drops. The act imparted the distinct impression that the glass was a cock.

That was it for the tall man at the end of the bar. He looked at the woman next to him and said, “See ya ‘roun,” and swaggered toward the Slut in that peculiar way of black men.

The woman at the bar was livid and said loudly, “You muthah fukah. Jes’ you wait ‘n see,” and stormed out of the bar.

The tall man glanced over at Ben and said, “Don worry none, bra. I’ll pay dat bitch’s tab. Cain’t have ma favrit joint gwin bust, na kin I?” He then cackled in that idiosyncratic black way.

Arriving at his destination, the tall man looked down at the Slut, licked his lips and said, “Mind I sits down, baby?”

She gave him the full force of her smouldering blue eyes, quickly filling with hazel flecks, and said, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Grinning a cocky smile, the man sat down. He had brought his own drink from the bar. He starred appreciatively at her, eyeing her down and then back up. “What’s a fine white woman like you doin’ in dis place, baby?”

“What do you manavgat escort think,” she responded.

“Welllllll,” he started, scratching his cheek absently, “not to assalt yo’ virtue er nutin, but, jedgin’ by the way you is dressed, I is sayin you lookin to get good and fucked. Is I wrong?”

By this time, her song was over and some of that new hip hop music was booming and blaring. They couldn’t be overheard two tables down.

“And who do you think would do the fucking? You?”

“I is one a da niggas could do it, yeah.”

Smiling enigmatically, she said, “Interesting way to put it; ‘one of da niggas’. You think there may be others who’d like to?”

He looked at her intensely with narrowed eyes and said, “Is you wantin’ a bunch a niggas to run a train on you?”

Again, the enigmatic smile and, “If that’s your way of asking if I’m here to get a gangbang, then yes. What do you think?”

“I think you is fine and hot and crazy. You ever had black befo?”

“No. This will be my first time.”

“Well, baby girl, doncha wanna start a little slower? Wid jes 1, or, at mos, 2 niggas?”

“No. I’ve got my mind set on a bunch, not a couple. Are you in.”

“Sho as shit stinks, baby, I is all in. Is I dey firs’ one you axed?”

“Well, you saw me walk in. This is the first and only place I’m coming to tonight. What is your name?”

“Mah mama named me Elijah, but evah’body jes call me Eli.”

“I like that name.”

“Whach yo name, baby?”

“I don’t think I should say. After all, we’ll probably never see each other again.”

Another broad smile and a cackle. Eli said, “Naw baby, dat not be true, not ‘tall. Here wha is true: once you go black, you never go back.”

She leaned toward him, placed her elbows on the table, her chin on the backs of her hands, looked hard into his chocolate eyes and said, “I like you better and better Eli. Tell you what, you give me a name.” She leaned back in such a way has to make her breasts prominent, turned her body slightly sideways, threw an arm over the back of the chair, and crossed her left leg over her right. She took no care to pull down the hem of her short, tight, clingy dress and her stocking top clearly showed.

Looking at her up and down for the 10th time and licking his lips, he thought for a moment, grinned and said, “Maggie. You is Maggie now,” pointing to the magnolia blossom she sported on her right ear.

Smiling, she said, “Very clever, Eli,” she said, resting her tilted head casually on her hand. “Now, do you have any friends who would like to party. We only have until 10.”

“Why 10?”

“Because we’re going to be in a motel room and people are much more likely to make noise complaints after 10. So, we go to my room, keep the noise as low as possible, and party until 10. As you would say, ‘You kin do a lotta fuckin’ in 2 hours.’ Right?”

“Tru dat, baby girl. Mos def. Well, des a few a dese niggas here I knows be down fer da play, know wha I mean? How many you wants to party wid?”

“I think you and 3 others would do. Like I said, we’ve only got 2 hours.”

“Yeah, baby girl, dat soun’ like a plan,” he responded while putting his palms flat on the table, making to get up.

Suddenly she leaned over toward him once again, placed her hand on top of his and said, “Please remember, Eli, this is fun, right? Just some fun. I’m not here to be hurt. You won’t hurt me, will you? You wouldn’t let anybody else hurt me, would you? Can you be my protector tonight as well as my cock supplier?”

Nodding slowly Eli said, “Baby girl, you is right as rain. Whachu doin’ here be dangerous as hell. You is lucky you run into ole Eli. I ain’ never hurt no woman, especially a fine ass white one. I takes good care a’ you cause I knows how things go. You gonna wants more a dis here soon and when de time come, you gonna wants to call ole Eli.” He handed her a note he had written as he spoke and she put it in her purse after a quick glance. It was a phone number. He continued, “Des right Maggie baby girl, I takes good care of you. I gets you plenty of dick and makes sure dem niggas knows dey gots to be as polite as dey cock is hard. ‘N all dat just to get a taste ‘a dat primo white pussy you is sittin’ on. Satisfied dahlin’?”

“Lucky is right, Eli,” she said. “I think when your friends leave, you’ll have to stay for an extra half hour or so if you want. You deserve a little private time ‘wid dis primo white pussy.'”

Eli cackled while shaking his head and said, “Baby girl, you is a trip.”

He got up and walked toward the pool table in the back. After several minutes, he returned with three men, all about his own age. They couldn’t take their eyes off Maggie. By a wave of her extended hand, she invited them to sit, which they did. She looked at each of them in turn as Eli introduced them.

“Dis here be Jim-Buck, Tee, ‘n Junba. Gents, dis here be Maggie.”

The three men each nodded, their eyes boring in on Maggie, şişli escort as Eli pronounced their names. Maggie smiled. When the introductions were over, she asked, “Eli has told you the score?”

Again, they nodded. They each had the hot, hungry look of a lion watching a gazelle, as if they wanted to consume her. It was a look she had seen many times and she enjoyed it. Eli’s assurances had given her confidence.

She said, “Ya’ll look ready to party.”

“Yeah, baby.” “Des right, fo show.” “Mos def.”

She continued, “Can we talk about a few rules before we leave for the room?”

Looking a little puzzled, they all nodded.

She said, “Good. Then, this is all just for fun, right? Nobody wants any trouble, right? Noise is the biggest worry. That’s why we’re getting started early. We go from now to no later than 10. After 10, people in motels mostly want to sleep. So, no loud noise and we’re done no later than 10, right?”

“Whachu mean “no later than 10?” asked Tee. “We gonna quit befo den?”

She smiled, “Well, I know how men usually are. After you come, you’re not much good for anything. So, I want ya’ll to hold off as long as you can. I’ll guarantee that each of you will come at least once, and you’re welcome to come as often as you can, but only until 10. How’s that?”

Tee smiled widely and said, “Show ‘nuf, Maggie, I gets it.”

Maggie continued, “Like I said this is just fun. I’m not here to be hurt. I like sex to be a little rough and plenty dirty, but nothing that would leave any marks. No biting, arm twisting, slapping or anything like that. And if I say something hurts, you stop immediately. Agreed?”

“Dat jus common sense, Maggie,” said Jim-Buck. “We ain’ sick or nutin. We’s jus’ wan sum fun too.”

“Good,” answered Maggie, “so we understand each other. Now just a few particulars. If you want to come inside me, you have to wear condoms. I brought some. But if you can pull out before, then you can ride bareback. I like it everywhere and I having ya’ll over to get it everywhere all at once, but remember, ass riding requires lubrication. I’m ok if you need to take a break and watch for awhile, but I really hope that everybody will be participating fully. Understand?”

“Yeah, baby, dat soun’ real good,” said Junba. He was so ready, his tongue was nearly hanging out.

“So,” she said with an air of finality, ya’ll ready to party?”

“Oh yeah,” was the universal response as they all arose together.

Securing her hair against the wind with her scarf, she started to put on her coat, but hesitated as she saw the heat of the gaze of her four companions as they watched her body. Eli responded to her look with, “Maggie baby, you is the hottest thing we dun evah seen. Ain’ she gents?”

All three grunted their assent.

Smiling wickedly, Maggie asked, “Would ya’ll think it sexy if I kept my coat off while we walk back to the room together? Show the world I’m nothing but your black cock whore for tonight?”

She could actually see their crotches bulge as they all said some version of “Hell yeah, baby.” So she handed her coat to Tee, took Eli by the arm and left the Kung Fu Club.

When they got out on the sidewalk, she saw that the streetlights provided bright illumination and that the Saturday night traffic was heavy. She strutted in her sexiest catwalk style while looking straight ahead, bouncing her tits enticingly as she went. Several cars slowed down to watch her walk by with her choices for the evening. A group of three younger black men heading toward the bar stopped and stared, extreme lust openly expressed on their faces. Maggie found all this thrilling. Revealing her nature as a pure sexual animal to the world electrified her. A glance at her companions’ faces informed her that it was also affecting them.

Arriving at the hotel, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She turned to the men and said, “The room is 214 and is all the way at the end. If you wait here until I reach the top of the stairs, you’ll get a good peak up my dress. But only a dirty boy would do something like that,” she added playfully. “Oops,” she said in fake afterthought, “I forgot to put on any panties.” Then, with an evil smile, she took her sweet time walking up the stairs. She was very pleased to see all four of them hurrying under the stairs to catch a view from the best angle possible. As soon as she reached the top, she could hear them coming after her.

They caught up to her long before she reached the door. Tee came up to her side, put his hand up under her dress and squeezed her ass. She let him, which encouraged Junba to grab her breast and tweak her nipple on the other side. They kept walking this way, openly fondling her until she came to the door. Her breath quickened and her face flushed, showing her obvious arousal. Tee and Junba didn’t stop as she reached in her purse for the key. Jim-Buck reached under her hem from behind to insert a finger into her pussy, which she helped by spreading her legs and bending over slightly to use the key. As the door opened, Jim-Buck, exclaimed “God damn, baby. You is wet as water.”

Entering the room, Eli looked around while his companions continued to grope Maggie. There were two queen beds, a table, two chairs, a TV inside a cabinet. The air conditioner was on, despite the outside temperature being only 60. “Why da AC on?” he asked.

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Constructive criticism and comments encouraged. This is the ‘almost’ end to the Jenny and Mike story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

—–oooOOOooo—–

Begin Jenny Pt. 6

Jenny awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and bile. At some time during the night, Mike had gotten sick in the short space between the bed and the bathroom hall. She avoided the mess, pulled on a robe, and headed downstairs. Dave had just started to fry some bacon.

“Quite some night you boys had. You seem better off than Mike, at least.”

“Good morning, Jenny. I drink, but I don’t allow myself to get drunk. It’s a control issue with me.” He poured her a cup of coffee.

“What happened to Ken?” she asked , as she sipped the black nectar. Dave must have gone out for the coffee beans, because this wasn’t the normal homebrew they kept in the house.

“He went home with a barfly. He called me this morning to have us meet him at the lighthouse for lunch, if he isn’t back before that, and we could leave from there.”

“Good coffee.” Jenny thought she would ask what else happened last night, but changed her mind.

She went back upstairs to check on Mike. He started to show signs of life, which was good, and eventually pulled himself out of bed. She took a quick shower and dressed in shorts and t-shirt for the warm weather that had moved in overnight.

While she dressed, she heard Ken’s jeep pull up outside, followed by the slam of the screen door as he came inside.

“Breakfast is ready!” called Dave from downstairs. Jenny and Mike made their appearance a few moments later. Dave had gone all out with the supplies available: cheese omelet, cinnamon buns, and fried bacon. Jenny noticed that Ken was staring at her. “Good morning, Ken. Something wrong?”

“Nope.” he said, and a knowing smirk crossed his face. “just happy it’s Wednesday. Big day today.” Jenny heard something under the table, as if Mike was trying to kick Ken.

“Oh? And how’s that?”

He shot a smirk at Mike, but cleared it from his face before he turned back to Jenny.

“I got a call this morning. Last minute, I know, but have an interview tomorrow. I thought Dave and I could hit a surf shop this morning, and then meet you two at the lighthouse. We’ll head out from there.”

“Congratulations. Best of luck.” She actually got that out with a modicum of sincerity. She had taken a definite dislike to surfer-boy.

“Besides, Dave and I feel like he proverbial fifth wheels around here. We’d hate to think we were inhibiting you two lovebirds. Right, Dave?”

Dave gave him a look like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. There was a long pause, and then Dave spoke up. “Yeah, right, Ken. Jenny? If it’s alright, I, I mean we, I mean Ken and I would like to treat you two to lunch at the lighthouse restaurant. As a way of thanking you for putting us up last night.”

“That’s sweet of you, Dave. We really only put one of you up, but I think we can accept. Mike, do we have anything planned for lunch today?” She knew they didn’t but had to keep appearances.

“No, Jenny. I don’t think so.” She could tell by the way he was picking at his food that his hangover was really hitting his stomach hard. He paid little attention to the conversation.

When Jenny finished, she excused herself and went upstairs. Dave cleaned up the breakfast dishes, and Mike and Ken moved outside. When Jenny got upstairs, she caught the tail end of their conversation from the upper balcony.

“Stop being such a fucking wimp, for god’s sake.” That was Ken.

“Leave me alone.”

“No, I won’t. You can’t let her rule your life. I don’t care if she is the best lay in the world, man, if she carries your erzurum escort balls around in her purse, it isn’t worth it. Be a man for once.”

“Who says I’m not?” Mike’s anger was overriding his hangover.

“I know what happened last night with Charlene. Either you put your foot down now and get that thing off, or I’ll do it for you.”

“I think Jenny might be the real deal, Ken. I know she is special. She may just be the best thing that has ever happened to me, despite the weirdness. You screw this up for me, Ken, and so help me I’ll kill you. “

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe if you found somebody that still had a set of balls to back you up.”

Jenny moved back into the bedroom and slipped her cel phone into her pocket. For some reason, she now thought she might be getting a phone call today.

She looked at the wet spot on the carpet as she went to the bathroom. At least he had cleaned up the vomit.

—–oooOOOooo—–

The lunch was cordial, at best. They talked about the ride home, the weather, what looked good on the menu, so on and so forth. Jenny waited for the inevitable blowup between Ken and Mike. After their food had arrived, she pardoned herself and went to the bathroom to freshen up. She knew that they waited until she was out of earshot before the subject was changed.

Jenny watched the three men when she exited the bathroom. Mike and Ken were arguing about something, and it looked like Dave was siding with Mike, at least in part. The morning had been filled with tension. Something had happened last night between Ken and Mike, she figured, and it came down to her relationship with Mike. Dave had witnessed it, but thought Mike was in the right. On a whim, Jenny checked the cel phone to make sure that it was on, but really hoped that she wouldn’t need it.

Dave stood as Jenny approached, and pulled out her chair for her. Mike started up a moment too late, realized he was on the wrong side of the table anyway, and sat down again. The three men were quiet.

“So, what did I miss? I’m going to get a paranoia complex if conversation shuts down every time I enter a room.”

“It was nothing, Jenny. Ken and I had a difference of opinion about a football team we both like.”

“Yeah,” Ken said. “I think the coach is insane, and that the quarterback should be calling the plays, not the coach.”

“You think differently, Mike?” she asked.

“Yes.” He stared at Ken. “I think that a coach knows better than the players what needs to happen. He preps the team, he knows the action, and so he should be calling the plays.”

It was obvious to her that they were substituting football as an analogy for her and Mike’s relationship. “Oh. I’m not one much for football, but it sounds interesting. Tell me, who calls the plays on most teams? The coach, isn’t it?”

Ken stabbed a piece of steak. “Sometimes. But if the players don’t have the ability to make decisions on the field, it breaks down. People start to think that the coach is arrogant and full of himself, especially if the quarterback looks like a complete idiot on the field.”

Jenny turned to Dave. “You’ve been pretty quiet, Dave. Tell me, who’s right? Should the coach call the plays? Or the players on the field?”

Dave was caught off guard. She had talked very little to him since he arrived. He had the feeling that she was watching him the entire time, like a cat might watch a mouse hole, and it made him uncomfortable. “Um, I think there has to a compromise. The coach should be in charge, but if the quarterback sees something the coach doesn’t, then he should be able to make adjustments.”

Ken snorted derisively, and stuffed some potato in his mouth. “Typical.”

Jenny eskişehir escort turned to Mike. “Sounds reasonable to me. Mike, is that where you were heading with your point of view?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Big surprise there, Mikey. Dave, get the bill would you? We need to get on the road if we are going to beat the evening rush.”

Jenny took her time getting up. “I’ll be right there, hon. I want to pick up some muffins for tomorrow morning” she said.

She sat and watched Mike as he left with Ken. They began arguing again as soon as they got outside.

The tension between the four of them was palpable as they moved into the parking lot. Ken walked ahead with Mike, while Dave moved to catch up after he paid the bill. He sidled in next to Jenny and tried to start a conversation, but she was preoccupied and apologized. She walked behind the pair of friends, watching the interaction. They talked, but too low for her to hear.

The jeep was parked next to a storm grate on the far side of the lot, leaving a wide space in which they could talk. When they got to the jeep, Ken turned around to face her and Mike moved to stop him. “Jen, I don’t know what kind of nut job you are, but I think the shit you are putting Mike through makes you a royal bitch.”

She stopped dead. What did he know about what she and Mike did? “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Ken, shut up” Mike interjected.

“No, Mike, she needs to hear this. Whatever kind of power trip you are on, lady, you can just leave him out of it.”

Dave decided it was better if he didn’t get involved.

“Mike is free to leave whenever he wants to, Ken. I won’t hold him back. And he knows that.”

“Yeah, real free, with his dick locked up tighter than a drum. You have him so pussy-whipped he doesn’t know which end is up.”

“I told Mike what I expected of him when this all started. He knows why I have done everything I have done, and I haven’t heard a complaint yet.”

“That’s because he is a wimp, you bitch. You made him one.”

Jenny looked at Mike. He said nothing, and looked at the ground.

“No, Ken. I didn’t think he was a wimp, though after seeing him around you I am starting to change my mind.” Ken’s chest puffed out a little at the comparison. “That wasn’t a compliment, Ken. When he is around you, he stops being a man.”

“Fuck you, Jen.”

“I only wanted to show him how a woman should be treated. How *I* wanted to be treated. And I offered plenty in return. More than you will ever get from a woman, Ken.” Jenny took a deep breath. “If my methods were a little out of the ordinary, then ‘oh well’. Mea culpa.”

“As for being a wimp when you aren’t around, if that means pampering his woman, taking her places, and generally showing her attention, then I will take a wimp any time. The fact that he is afraid to defend his girlfriend from the accusations of his friends makes him a pussy in my mind, not a wimp. He puts your so called ‘friendship’ above our relationship.”

“Damn straight, and he should. If that makes him a pussy, then he is a pussy.”

Mikes head snapped up at the statement. It didn’t count, did it? He hadn’t said it – Ken had! It didn’t count even though Ken said he was speaking for Mike, did it?

Jenny turned to face him. “Is that how you feel, Mike? If you side with Ken, tell me you are a pussy.”

Mike looked at her, then at Ken. He needed an out. There was a long, uncomfortable silence as he prepared an answer.

Mike had to figure out a way to mollify bith Ken and Jenny. Jenny was more important to him than Ken, but he didn’t want to lose his friend. He opened his mouth just as the gaziantep escort phone in Jenny’s purse rang. Her face blanched visibly, and she pulled it out of her purse like it was alive. Nobody had that number except Mike, and he was standing in front of her. He knew something was wrong, and that awareness had spread to his friends. Jenny stared at Mike as she answered the phone.

“Hello?” There was a long pause as the person on the other end spoke. Jenny looked at Mike, then Dave and Ken, then back at Mike. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and her eyes started to tear. She was on the verge of breaking down when she spoke again.

She swallowed away the emotion, and said, “Yes, that is right. Five hundred dollars is the reward. Tell me what it said. Wait, let me put it on speaker. I want everybody to hear it.” Jenny’s hands were unsteady as she pressed the speaker button on the phone and handed it to Mike. He looked at it as if it was going to bite him.

Jenny spoke again, louder. “Okay, tell me exactly what the message was. If you get it wrong, there is no reward.”

A female voice spoke from the phone. “I wrote it down just in case, so I wouldn’t get it wrong. It said, “Property of Ms. Jenny. If found, call XXX-XXXX. $500 reward’. Well, do I get the money?”

Another tear rolled down Jenny’s cheek. She reached to the chain around her neck and gave it a tug sharp enough to break the fragile links. She looked at it for a moment, then looked at Mike questioningly. He stared at her, ignorant of where the conversation on the phone was going. Had he lost something of hers this morning? What did she have that would say ‘property of Ms. Jenny’?

“Yes, you’ll get the money. Are you at the club now?”

“Yeah, I am about to start my shift.” Mike recognized the woman on the phone as Charlene.

Mike started shaking his head back and forth. “No, no, no…”

Jenny’s hand held the chain and locket over the storm grate. The heart swung back and forth in the sunlight. She looked at Mike, and her lips drew into thin lines in anger.

“Good. I’ll drop it off on my way home. Would you mind telling me where you saw the message?”

“It was written on the underside of a guy’s cock, in a henna tattoo. Part of a dragons tail.”

She let go of the chain. The locket bounced once on the grate, then fell through a hole and disappeared.

Mike stood there, dumbstruck. The phone slipped from his hands and smashed on the curbside. He started to shake. First his hands started to shake, then his arms, and then his whole body as he collapsed to the ground crying. His voice was a whisper, “no…no…no…no…”

Jenny looked down at Mike She had let only a few tears slip down her cheeks. “I think we both know what happens now, Mike.” She choked back the tears again. “I am truly sorry. I thought…I thought you were the one. I thought you would be different.”

Jenny looked at Ken and Dave. Ken stared back smugly. Dave looked at Mike. who was staring into space.

“You win, Ken. He’s all yours. Dave, it looks like it will be a little tight in that jeep with the three of you and all that gear. If you would like a ride back to the house, you can ride with me. It seems I have an empty seat for the ride home.”

Dave didn’t even answer. He grabbed his bag from the jeep and ran to the SUV to open the door for Jenny. Jenny wiped another tear from her eye, and straightened her back a little She gave one last look at Mike and turned towards the SUV. As she strolled back across the lot, Mike heard her ask, “so, Dave, how do you feel about museums? I still have a couple of days of vacation left, and seeing as I don’t get here very often, I was wondering if you might be interested in taking in the local sights with me. There’s something about them that makes me feel warm inside, and I think I could use that right about now.”

Dave replied, “I love museums.”

“Great. Maybe we could go to one this afternoon. I just need to stop at the house to pick up a few things – you don’t mind, do you?”

“No, Jenny. Not at all.”

End Jenny Pt. 6

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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There was a definite sense of finality in the loud ‘click’ of the lock at the back of the pig’s head mask she had placed over my head. She set out my speech options as she unpacked the pig-trotter extensions she was going to place on my arms and legs.

Basically, while dressed up like a pig I was allowed to say ‘oink’ and nothing else. Two ‘oinks’ meant ‘yes.’ One ‘oink’ meant ‘no.’ Aside from that, I could try and make myself understood by giving as many ‘oinks,’ or oinkity oinky-like phrases, as I wished. Any use of normal language would be severely punished. I decided then I’d keep my oinking to the minimum. It wasn’t my idea to play this piggy game.

“Them’s my rules, OK?” she finished, as if her jokey tone would make them less onerous or be less rigorously enforced.

“Yes, Madam,” I said, as I stretched my left arm out for her to fit the first trotter. A quick underhand slap hard up onto my exposed balls reminded me to rephrase my reply.

“You are a slow learner for a pig. Pigs are supposed to be intelligent, sensitive animals,” she said, still smiling, “a little more restriction will help remind you of what you are, isn’t that so, piggy?”

“Oink, oink,” I gasped, winded and wincing inside my mask from the sudden and unexpected slap. It was not like her to ever do direct hands-on punishment. But I suppose a quick slap on the balls doesn’t count.

“Good little piggy, that’s better,” she said. “Now let’s get your arm into this,” as she moved to slide the trotter over my hand and forearm.

“Oink, oink.”

We’d had our little talk over dinner the previous day, my wife and I, mistress and slave respectively, in our cosy household of two. Well two and a bit, if you count the recent little addition of Alexa – the modified talking box. My wife was eating a nice chicken curry I’d prepared earlier.

My plate was empty. I was hoping to eat something, anything. It might be whatever she would choose to throw my way from her plate; a half chewed chicken piece maybe, some grains of rice stuck to it, or a bit of her side salad. Or else she could let me forage in the food bin afterwards. A normal dinner in other words.

After hearing all about her exciting day in the corporate world of big IT, I got my chance to explain that I wasn’t too happy with the evolving set up, what with Alexa, the electronic talking box, becoming my boss and all that flowed from that. I was careful to sound respectful and humble, and grateful for all she does for me. I even had enough wit not to mention that I thought my good wife was pushing me ever further into the background away from daily contact with her. But to be clear about it, that was the real issue for me; the root of my discontent, really.

Surprisingly, she was all sympathy and understanding. I knew she had picked up on the little grain of my resentment towards Alexa from the moment Alexa arrived in my life. She said, as she generously threw me a few scraps from her plate, that she’d had a feeling for the last while that I was less than amused about the situation. She’d make some changes. Leave it with her. This was her in her effective executive mode. If there’s a problem, I’ll sort it. She sees herself as a get-things-done type of person.

She even asked me how I felt about getting fucked by Alexa. I answered honestly, that I didn’t mind really. I could handle it. I took the chance to ask her what the yellow goo was that Alexa ejaculated into me and why so much. She took great pleasure in telling me that it was an emulsion of water and rapeseed oil. The idea of pumping me full to overflowing was to have me appreciate how women felt as men’s cum slides out of them, making a wet gooey mess in their knickers, while the men just zip up their flies and walk away, free as a bird. No mess for them to deal with. Now you know what it is like for us.”

“Yes Madam,” was the only safe answer to that.

Sure enough, the new regime came to pass the very next day. Though I didn’t realize it at first. My wife doesn’t hang about. Do it now. That’s what works in the corporate world. I could tell she was gee’d up for something as soon as she got home from the office. I was standing by the door to take her coat and work bag as she came in, as usual.

Her face was a little flushed and there a hint of perspiration on her upper lip. It could have been that she was just a bit out of breath, but thinking about it now, it was more likely she was having a little sexual rush and flush at the thought of the fun ahead for her. Her pussy was probably wet.

She had me go back out to the garage and get a bunch of carrier bags and packages out of the car for her while she showered and changed. Then I got her dinner ready as usual.

Her mind wasn’t on her food either. But while explaining her immediate plan she wolfed down her dinner enthusiastically, such was her hurry to get on to the implementation stage of this wonderful initiative. If my wife is excited about her plans it usually means I should tekirdağ escort be very nervous about those plans. She said she had got a piggy outfit made for me that very day by her bespoke kinky outfitters that she had used for my other uniforms. Probably cost a fortune.

She wanted me to do a podcast for her tomorrow while dressed as a pig. I would have the usual remote vibrating dildo inserted and she would control it from her office make me cum while the punters were betting on how long it would take.

She told me to go get her carrier bags and take out the piggy outfit. I laid out the various pieces on the kitchen worktop. There was a full size pig head mask, totally enclosed type, a pair of trotter gloves for my hands and a bigger pair of trotters, like pink thigh boots really, for my feet. The final item was a length of pink frilly tulle – mysterious.

“It’s the year of the pig,” she said. “Our Chinese subscribers will bet serious money on your performance tomorrow.”

She had me get naked and stand in the middle of the kitchen floor. My gentle reminder that I hadn’t gotten to eat hardly any dinner yet was brushed aside with a ‘later’ as she pulled on this piggy mask over my head. It was made of strong pink latex. She zipped it closed at the back, really tight. ‘Ouch.’ It was like a second skin, a thick rubber skin that was locked over my head.

The mask was a candy pink, round faced, cheery cartoon pig. There was a permanent big happy smile painted over the rather thin and narrow actual mouth opening. An almost circular snout stuck out about two inches from the rest of the face, further hiding the mouth opening beneath it. I was going to be a happy pig; always happy.

The outside third of my eyes were covered by the mask so that I had a narrow field of vision straight out over the flat pink snout that fitted snugly over my nose. The small eye slits pressing against my eyes made them water initially, blurring my vision. Added to that, the eyeholes were set a little too close together. Maybe that was part of the piggy look.

Blinking hard to clear my vision I recognised a different look on my wife’s face. Now that I was locked into my pig’s head, it was like she’d got me where she wanted me and was feeling a bit giddy at the ease with which she had done it. It was a ‘gotcha’ look; a ‘gotcha’ combined with an ‘and you deserve all you are going to get, you pathetic loser’ look.

The fact that I could breathe without difficulty was a relief. Two reasonably sized holes under the snout lined up with my nostrils and allowed me to take deep breaths to ease the initial claustrophobic panic of feeling the mask grip my head all over. The mouth of the mask was in line with and stretched tight against my mouth.

Even though the mask had a fat bulging chinless chin on the outside, it was shaped to tuck in tight like a shelf under my chin on the inside. Because of this snug fit the pig mouth opened perfectly in line with my mouth when I moved my chin to open my mouth.

She had held up a small mirror for me to see myself. The overall effect was definitely more like a kid’s porky pig mask, or a Miss Piggy mask, rather than one of those realistic scary pig’s head masks. My real mouth was could not be seen against the painted on black smiling cartoon mouth. I opened my mouth as wide as it could, which was about half the normal stretch, and stuck out my tongue. The plastic of the mask stayed tight against my lips and moved with them to form as small black hole in the middle of the happy pig smile, with my tongue sticking out of it. It was a pretty effective and workable head as far as mouth, nose and eyes went.

I had pink floppy latex pig ears up high on either side. Needless to say, they did nothing for my hearing. My real ears were covered by the chubby cheeks on each side of the mask. It meant that outside sounds were muted and muffled by the extra thick latex. So I was blinkered and partially deaf due to this mask. It was then that she set out the new speaking rules for me; piggy-speak only while I had the mask on. I had to listen hard. But the rules were not complicated.

The ‘trotters’ that fitted over my hands were quite sophisticated items. They were two pink stiff thickish rubber tube-like fittings, a bit like pink elbow length gloves, only pig’s trotter shaped. They were soft and rubbery at the top or elbow end graduating to harder plastic as they went down. At the bottom the hoof briefly divided into two separate thick plastic toes or trotters; the true cloven hoof. She had me keep my fingers bunched and straight as I slid my hand into the trotter, like I was putting on a long gauntlet type glove. The inside was coated with some lubricant.

The first two fingers, the index and middle ones, slid into a single space just right sized for them while my little finger and ring finger were contained is a single separate compartment alongside. It was like a glove with tokat escort just two thick fingers spaces. My thumb slid into a separate thumb-hole back behind the first two holes; all snug and secure.

To complete the picture, the trotters were hardened and stiff at the toe merging into a hard shiny nail or horn like texture to make them more life-like. The tubes became softer, more elastic up towards the elbow and were tightened on with Velcro strips. Once she had tightened the Velcro straps above and at the back of my elbow, my hands were trapped and it was impossible for me to pull the ‘trotters’ off.

‘Bend over and put your trotters on the floor. Lean on them to put a bit of weight on your hands to help them to settle into the trotters.’

I gave an ‘Oink, oink,’ as I gingerly placed my two hands on the floor. The shooting pains in my groin from the slap were easing now. I was able to focus on other things and noted that the design of the trotters was very realistic. By moving my fingers I could move the two toes apart slightly and bring them back together. It was a bit like I was making Mr. Spock’s Vulcan salute upside down, the old ‘live long and prosper’ V-sign.

As my two front trotters spread from my weight pressing them onto the kitchen floor, it brought a third trotter behind them that contained my thumb into contact with the floor. I put more weight on my hands but the design of the trotter wouldn’t allow the trotter toes move apart anymore than about an inch from each other. I was like a sprinter getting into the ready position at the start of a race.

My wife loosened the velcro straps to let my arms settle down in the trotters and then pulled the top of the trotters up tightly as high as she could and re-fastened the velcro over my elbows. As I stayed there, bent over, with my front trotters on the ground she placed one hand on my ass cheek and rested it there. There is something very humiliating in being bent over naked with your wife resting her hand on your ass without a care in the world. She owns you and she is letting you know it.

She slid her hand between my legs and gently massaged my balls, still a little sore after the slap. “My, but you’re beginning to look like a real piggy, aren’t you?” she murmured somewhere into where my ear would be, her hand still rubbing and squeezing my balls gently. I began to get stiff. Which was the whole idea of her attentions, no doubt.

“Oink, oink,” I grunted, as she gave a slightly firmer squeeze and a tug. I think she was enjoying herself a little more than usual.

The mask was a bit claustrophobic and I was hot and clammy inside it. That made me breathe a bit faster than normal. Well that, and the whole situation, plus being bent over. All sounds and voices coming from outside had were muffled by the thick layer of latex over my ears. Her voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well outside the door.

The trotters she had ordered for my feet were more like dull pink latex boots that came up over my knees. There were long zips up the back starting from base of each heel. The boots swelled into much thicker shaped and padded section at knee height and then tapered away to normal thickness before stopping about nine inches above the knee. The thickness at the knee would protect my knees when I was down on all fours: Thoughtful. That knee thickness continued around to the back of the knee.

She had me sit on a chair while slipping each foot in comfortably enough to the boot end. Again the inside was lubricated and my feet slid in and fitted snugly at the base of the trotter. She had me hold each foot up horizontally as she zipped up the boot from the heel to its top above the knee. I could feel the top of the boot pull in and tighten as the zip came past the knee and reach the top of the boot. Another loud click told me that these boots were also made for staying on.

When the two boots were on she told me to stand. The first thing I noticed was that the trotters became hard down towards the foot, same as for the hands, but more so. That was to be expected, as was the fact that I had two big toe nails of hardened shiny plastic at the end of my foot, and a bit of a cloven hoof effect. But there was no movement in the foot part of the boot. It was all solid plastic.

What was surprising was that I could only stand up on my toes inside the boots. Clearly the hard plastic from the top of the ankle and foot area was moulded to keep my foot arched, and raised. It was like being in high heels with no heel and there was nothing I could do about it. I could rest my heel against the boot, but it made no difference, I was still standing on my toes. I could not drop down onto the flat of my foot.

The second surprise was that I couldn’t straighten my knees fully. The thick plastic at the knee area must have been moulded and hardened at so as to keep the knees bent, sticking my ass out at the back. It meant trabzon escort I had to bend forward at the waist for balance. As a result my arms hung in front of me, like when a chimp or gorilla stands on two legs. It made me feel bit Neanderthal. Like I was not too used to standing upright and would have preferred to be on all fours. I could feel my ass pushing out behind me. In fact, I had an urge to drop over onto all fours. It felt like it would be more comfortable, but I didn’t. She hadn’t told me to.

“Take some steps, piggy. Get the feel of it.”

“Oink, oink.” I took a few careful steps in a circle around the kitchen floor, my trotters clicking on the tiles, my arms swaying gorilla like in front of me. I had a strange high stepping, trotting gait due to the bent knees and being on my tip toes, like I was carefully picking my way through a mess of dog poo on the footpath. I came to a halt facing my wife.

Whopp! I felt a sharp stinging, searing line of pain across the back of my ass.

“I didn’t tell you to stop walking, piggy, did I?”

“Oink.” I quickly continued trotting around in the circle. Driven by the throbbing line of hurt on my ass. She seemed to have an actual cane in her hand. I never saw this before. So the slap on the balls was not a one off. My wife has taken to directly punishing of her slave.

This was very much out of character. She was rotating slowly in the centre of the kitchen, swishing the cane like a circus ring master. I continued trotting around her, faster now, my feet click-clicking in my hard plastic trotters, my hand trotters held up at the jogging position. Jogging on tiptoe with my knees bent was odd and, I’m sure, looked odd. But I kept going so as to give no excuse for that cane to come anywhere near my sore ass again.

It appeared that the mental difficulty she always had when it came to hitting me was gone. Her way around it previously had been to focus on the mind games; happy be the mentally controlling Domme, same as she enjoys being the boss at work. She has no problem seeing me, her husband, as a naughty boy who needs to be ordered around, given jobs to do, given out to, verbally humiliated, sent to his room, denied food and so on.

She did recognise the need for the ultimate sanction of physical punishment to keep her slave in line. But her preference was always to get others to do it. Formal lengthy punishment sessions are contracted out to her enforcer. For more immediate punishment she gets me to place myself into the T-bar restraint and has Alexa the robot whip me.

So this is new. This getting hit, hard, by my wife. It must be dissociation. She no longer sees me, her slave husband, when she looks at this smiley pig before her. She just sees a cartoon pig; the sort that bounces back from getting walloped with a fence plank or whatever. Just like Porky Pig in the cartoons of yore. Off I go running around again smiling my dopey cartoon pig smile. And obviously she is happy enough with the notion that animals have to be kept in line with a crack of the whip or whatever, including cartoon animals.

“That’s enough, piggy.” The sharp slap of her cane across the front of my chest brought a stop my circular trotting, and snapped me out of my musings on my Mistress’ conversion to the joys of physical discipline. “You seem to be well able to manage walking on your trotters. For the podcast tomorrow I’ll want you to dance in front of the camera. We’ll practice that after you eat.”

“Oink, oink,” I agreed, happily. This was a positive development; her actually giving me food. She went to one of the heavier carrier bags I had brought in from the garage and took out a medium sized sack. It looked like one of those catering packs of muesli; about ten or twelve pounds weight. CONSUPP said the label, and in smaller print beneath ‘purveyors of especially formulated food concentrate and supplements mixed to client specification. Ideal for large domestic pets, horses, etc.’ I’m the etc. I suppose.

Reaching under the worktop and into cupboard she retrieved the big aluminium bowl and placed it in the corner. I could hardly believe my piggy eyes as she tore open the sack and poured at least two pounds of the contents into the bowl. It was some kind of kibble type nuggets, like dog food. Then she got a large quart carton of full milk from the fridge and poured the lot in; full two pints, and stirred the lot around with the tip of her cane. Up to now I used only get skim milk, glorified water.

“We can’t have our dancing pig going hungry, can we? Now, down on all fours and eat that. All of it.”

“Oink, oink.” I click clicked over to the corner on my trotters and folded myself down in front of the bowl. No doubt all this was being caught on camera, and she probably had a corner floor camera recording too. The best bits would be edited into the podcast. But all anybody would see was a pig making a pig of himself. So what?

I got into position with my ass dangerously exposed up in the air, my front trotters flat on either side of the bowl and stuck my head in. I hadn’t allowed for my snout which banged into the far side of the bowl, tilting it and slopping a bit over the side. Sure enough, a sharp whack of her cane on my raised ass immediately admonished my sloppiness and nearly made me slop some more over the side.

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

THREE

The next week went by as if nothing had happened between them, and very little seemed to have changed in their routines. The only real change that Matt noticed, and enjoyed quite thoroughly, was that she walked around her apartment wearing no clothes most of the time. She seemed completely at ease being naked, and she still smiled and waved whenever they saw each other. Matt’s biggest problem that week was that he had seemed to have a perpetual erection each evening, and he found it necessary to masturbate frequently to avoid a case of blue balls. He knew she watched him through her bedroom window as he was jacking off one evening and with her watching, he was a bit self-conscious, taking much longer before he managed to climax.

Saturday finally arrived and Matt went through the day doing mostly busy work, taking care of several projects that he had been putting off. He then went through his normal routine of the day, but added several shopping trips to his list of errands. He went to the shopping mall in the city just after noon, picking up a new outfit for the evening. He chose a pair of nice, tight fitting blue jeans that hugged his ass very well, and also a white, long sleeve cowboy shirt. Although Matt really didn’t like briefs, he bought a sky blue pair to wear beneath his new jeans, also picking up a bottle of nice cologne.

Then Matt began his final task, searching for a paddle to use that night. He went to several stores in the mall, but had no luck after several hours. Then he went into the Victoria Secrets where an older woman behind the counter smiled at his obvious discomfort. As he tried explaining to the woman what he was looking for, his embarrassment was readily apparent from the flush to his cheeks, but after several minutes, she finally understood his specific request, and laughed sweetly, telling Matt about an adult store that wasn’t too far from the mall. Before leaving, he bought a spaghetti strap teddy, deep blue, that he thought would be her size, then thanked the clerk and headed for his car.

Matt drove out of the mall as the sun dipped behind the taller buildings of the city. He felt the blush to his cheeks begin to rise again as he pulled in front of the adult shop, Sweet Endings, parking with several other cars in front of the tinted windows.

The blank windows of the shop were very deceptive as Matt walked in, the loud vocals of heavy metal music assaulting his senses as he pulled open the door. It was like Matt walked through a portal, emerging into a porn studio. There were several customers browsing, looking through the assortment of sexual toys and devices. The entire wall to Matt’s right was dedicated to dildos of every imaginable shape and size, several of them larger than Matt’s forearm. The center of the store held dozens of various racks with costumes displayed using mannequins. There was everything from leather bondage gear, to outfits of transparent lace and silk. There was even a rack with, what Matt could only describe as fairy wings, the large butterfly shapes reminding him of costumes from a renaissance festival. There were display shelves arranged around the room like spokes of a wheel, holding all sorts of creams, lotions, incense, sexual enhancement devices, gag gifts, nipple clamps, cock rings, and many things Matt had never seen before, and he could only imagine how they would be used.

The wall to Matt’s left had various contraptions hanging from the ceiling by long chains. Leather harnesses and swings with dummies shown in several very descriptive positions. One mannequin had a purple rope tied around its torso, legs, and arms, suspending it at eye level with its legs spread impossibly wide. Behind these life sized dolls, Matt saw the wall was lined with paddles, canes, yard sticks, rope of every color imaginable, lengths of chain, and even a long oar used for a boat.

Ignoring the rest of the store as best as he could, Matt walked over to the wall of paddles, seeing that the assortment hanging from cords of leather attached to their handles, was much more varied than he thought possible. There were paddles thinner than cardboard, and others thick enough to be used for decking, many having holes of various şişli escort sizes drilled into them. The shapes were more limited, having round paddles, square paddles, heart shaped paddles, long and thin paddles, triangular paddles, frat paddles, and that scary looking boat oar, mounted horizontal higher up the wall. There seemed to be three main materials that each paddle was made from, plastic, leather, and wood, although there seemed to be a multitude of types made from each.

Matt concentrated on the wooden paddles that were the kind he thought his neighbor had been using the other night, and he was overwhelmed with having so many choices from the others that he narrowed his selection to wood.

Matt was startled by a girlish voice just behind him, and turned to see a woman in her mid-twenties. ‘Can I help you find something?’ She said.

Matt blushed furiously as he faced her, his face a bright red. The woman was slim, and very attractive, long brown hair reaching to her waist, her moderate sized breasts accentuated by the tight T shirt she wore. “SWEET ENDINGS” was written in deep red letters across her bust, an intentionally faded picture of someone’s buttocks beneath the words. Matt could make out a heart shaped mark, bright red on one of the cheeks.

She smiled sweetly as Matt blushed deeper, realizing it looked as if he was staring at the woman’s breasts. ‘I was looking for a paddle….. Um, for my girlfriend.’ Matt stammered. ‘This is all really new to me.’

‘It’s okay.’ The woman said, looking Matt in the eyes. ‘Discipline is a lot more common than you would think. As a matter of fact, most of the employees here are spankos.’

Matt didn’t know how to react to the woman’s bluntness, so he just nodded, mumbling ‘Uh huh.’

‘The purists, like me, prefer wood to any of the others. But leather is a nice alternative. Does your … Girlfriend do bondage with her discipline?’

I, uh….. I’m not really….. Well, that is to say, I just don’t…. She’s kind of….’ Thankfully the woman interrupted Matt as he tried to complete some form of a sentence.

‘No need to worry sir, I can recommend a couple of our more popular paddles if you’d like.’ She turned to the wall, trying to hide her smile. She took a lightweight, round paddle from the wall, handing it to him. ‘This is a nice beginner’s paddle, it’s easy to swing, but it’s still pretty effective.’

‘Well.’ Matt said. ‘She seems to prefer something heavier I think. The one she has is pretty thick and looks more like this one.’ Matt pointed to one of the frat paddles hanging on the wall. ‘But I wanted to get her something a bit different. Maybe one that’s round?’

The woman smiled, knowingly, stepping further down the wall and handed Matt a much thicker paddle, its short handle rounded, the head a full foot across with the image of a rose burn into the wood. It looked like an oversized ping pong paddle. ‘I can personally recommend this one.’ The woman said with a grin. ‘It’s heavy enough that you don’t need a lot of force to the swing, but she will most certainly know you’re back there! Plus, it’s large enough to cover the entire cheek of most butts, even being able to swat both cheeks at the same time.’

Matt lifted the paddle experimentally, feeling the weight of it in his hand. ‘I’m not really sure.’ He said. ‘I just don’t have a lot of experience with this sort of thing.’

‘Well, let’s have you try it for a couple of swings. ‘The woman said to him as she stepped back, smiling. ‘Please follow me; we have a demo area in back.’

She walked toward the back of the store, Matt following her with the paddle held awkwardly in one hand. She opened a curtain on the back wall, revealing an open doorway, and went down a short hall into the room beyond, Matt following, admiring her firm ass in the shorts she wore. He found himself in a large room, several life-size dummies in various positions around the room, all of them bent at the waist, some across stools or chairs, others leaning over in place. There was a large selection of paddles, canes, and floggers spaced along the walls, as well as several bondage implements.

The woman tuzla escort stepped up to one of the dummies kneeling on the seat of a chair. ‘Try a couple of swats on Hilda.’ She said, indicating he should stand to the side of the dummy.

Matt stood beside the dummy’s hips and raised the paddle, saying. ‘You named it?’ His arm came down on the buttocks of the mannequin with a loud ‘smack’, hitting it hard enough to rock the chair forward.

‘Damn!’ the woman exclaimed. ‘Don’t break her! Let the paddle do the work. Here, let me show ya.’

She took the paddle from him, raising it only slightly before she let it swing toward the dummy’s butt. Matt realized that she didn’t need to give much force to the swing as the paddle struck the silicone buttocks of the mannequin with a nice swat, causing the dummy to slightly rock forward, but the chair didn’t move.

‘See.’ She said. ‘Let the paddle do most of the work. If you need a harder strike, just start further back, gravity does the rest. You only need to guide the paddle to land in the right spot.’ She raised the paddle farther back and the resulting smack was only marginally louder. ‘Of course, you can always put more of your own force behind the blow. Just don’t swing too hard, you don’t want to harm the girl, only hurt her.’ The clerk added a bit more swing with her arm this time, the paddle landing squarely on target with a louder smack.

She handed the paddle to Matt. ‘You try a couple of swings, see what you think.’

Matt did as the clerk had shown him, starting with a mild strike and increasing the force with his last hit to the dummy’s ass. His aim wasn’t as spot on as the clerks, but he liked the feel of the paddle, the heavy wood swinging easily in his hand as he struck the dummy’s ass again with more force.

‘Well done.’ The woman said. ‘You sure you haven’t done this before?’

Matt laughed as he stepped back from the mannequin. ‘Actually, I’ve only watched one spanking; this is the first time I’ve even held a paddle.’

‘Wow.’ She exclaimed, giggling slightly, and then she became serious. ‘You’re the first virgin Dominant I have ever met.’ She glanced past him momentarily, and then looked him in the eyes, a bit nervously. ‘I hope you don’t think of me as to forward, but I have to ask. Would you let me be the one to pop your cherry? I can disable the camera in here for a couple of minutes; no one would be the wiser. Please, may I be your first bottom……. Sir?’

She didn’t wait for him to answer, Matt staring at her like a deer in headlights. Instead she went to one corner of the room and reached behind one of the longer paddles on the wall momentarily, before turning back to him, a huge smile on her pretty young face.

Matt was still staring at her when she said. ‘There. We are now as private as I can get it in here.’ She stepped back to Matt and took his free hand, leading him to an empty stool against the far wall. The clerk let go of his hand as she stepped up to the stool, pulling her hair over her shoulder to drape across her left breast. She pulled the stool away from the wall and grabbed the seat, leaning her body forward, her belly resting on the curved wood, her legs spread slightly with her feet on the floor. She lifted her hips a little, wiggling her ass, the position making the shorts she wore stretch tightly across her fanny.

Matt’s fear had returned when the clerk disabled the camera, he didn’t want to hurt this girl, and he wasn’t any sort of expert, or even proficient at giving a spanking.

‘I’m not sure if this is a good idea ma’am. Hell, I don’t even know your name.’ Matt whispered as he hesitantly stepped a little closer to the clerk.

‘Don’t worry Sir, I’ve been a bottom for almost seven years now, you’re not going to harm me.’ She glanced over her shoulder, looking Matt in the eyes. ‘My name is Cindy, and I’m begging you. Please, let me be your first submissive! Please spank me Sir, please just give me a couple of swats!’

Matt detected a slight difference in the way she addressed him as ‘Sir’ and felt his arousal mounting as he stepped beside Cindy’s hips, his penis beginning to harden; he pendik escort thought there couldn’t be any harm in giving her just a few swats. ‘Pleasure to meet you Cindy, my name is Matt.’ He said, then lifted the paddle slightly, bringing it down easily against Cindy’s shorts with a light thud as it connected with the fabric stretched across her bottom, the paddle landing dead center on her buttocks.

‘Harder please.’ She said as she wiggled her butt slightly. ‘Let me know your there at least.’

Matt’s arousal grew fully in moments, as did his erection. He had never been in such a position of control; he had never felt the rush from dominance that he felt at that moment. He raised the paddle again, letting it fall to strike the center of Cindy’s butt with a stronger sounding thud, the paddle feeling firm and sure in his hand. He struck her butt once more, putting a bit of his own force into the blow, causing Cindy to arch her back just barely as the paddle thudded against her shorts. Matt’s arousal from the power he was feeling was delicious; he really was enjoying the role of a Dominant, even though that role was his by chance alone.

‘It feels different somehow.’ Matt said as he stepped back a pace, rubbing his free hand along the smooth face of the paddle.

Cindy pushed herself up from the stool. ‘It’s the fabric of the shorts.’ She said a bit breathlessly, undoing her shorts and quickly pulling them down, revealing a pair of pretty white lace panties beneath. When she leaned over the stool again, the seat of those skimpy panties slipped between her buttocks, the skin of her ass fully exposed.

Matt stepped beside Cindy once more, his confidence growing stronger as he raised the paddle, the feeling of dominance growing as well. Cindy began to pant as the paddle struck the bare skin of her fanny with a loud smack. She arched her back and lifted her head, the skin of her buttocks beginning to show a slight pink as Matt struck her again. The paddle caught her just a little high on the ass when Matt struck her a third time, but her soft moan urged him to continue the spanking. When the paddle landed against the deeper pink of Cindy’s ass again, Matt put more force into the strike, causing Cindy to whimper just barely as she stood on her tip toes and bit her lower lip, bouncing in place when she pushed herself completely off the stool, her arms extended in front of her gripping the seat tightly.

Matt stepped back from her again. ‘I seem to have done that correctly?’ He stated, and then asked her. ‘Are you okay?’

Cindy stood, rubbing her butt with both hands, her skin a bright pink. ‘That was marvelous Sir.’ She said, her breath a bit labored, and a slight flush on her cheeks. ‘Are you sure you’ve never used a paddle before?’ Then Cindy glanced down to his groin, her smile widening at the bulge in his pants. ‘I think your girlfriend is going to be pleasantly surprised Sir. Hell, a few more minutes of a spanking like that and I would be begging you to let me ride that cock of yours.’

Matt blushed deeply as he turned away from Cindy, laughing nervously. ‘I don’t think so Cindy, not this time. Thank you though. Thank you very much for the lesson. I think this will be an excellent first paddle for me. My neighbor will enjoy it, I have no doubt.’

Cindy stepped beside him, fully clothed again, and smiled. ‘Your neighbor? I thought she was your girlfriend.’ She said smiling slyly.

Matt stared into her eyes, realizing he was caught in a little white lie, his feelings of dominance subsiding. ‘Well, um, I only just met her last week really. We’re only up to a second date so far.’

Cindy laughed and clapped her hands a couple of times, turning to one of the tables in the room, still giggling as she took one of the Sweet Endings business cards lying there and wrote her phone number on the back. Handing it to Matt, she said. ‘Call me any time Sir. I would just love giving you another lesson. I could help you learn how to give a proper warm up.’ She stepped forward and lightly kissed him on the lips, then said to him with her lips mere inches from his. ‘One last tip, let the sting from each swat build a little, just pausing between strikes for a few seconds makes a huge difference.’ Matt felt her hand slide over his erection. ‘And Sir, our lesson sure as hell wouldn’t stop once you’ve warmed my bottom up!’

Cindy was still giggling as she preceded him to the checkout and rang up his paddle in the register, winking at him as she handed him the plain black bag with his new toy in it.

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You walk up to me at my computer in our home office wearing a mini skirt and no top and say “Get up and come with me if you know what’s good for you.”

Recognizing what you are doing I stand and say “Yes Mistress.”

You lead me into our basement dungeon and tell me to strip. I do as you instruct. You place a cock ring and blindfold on me. You lead me over to one of the bondage racks I’ve built for us and bend me face down onto it. Then you strap my arms and legs to the uprights with me laying face down so I can’t move. This leaves me completely exposed for your pleasure.

You walk around me dragging your nails across my back and ass as you do so.

“Oh we are going to have fun tonight. Well, at least I am.” You say as you slap my ass hard.

“I think your little boy cunt needs a bit of softening up. Don’t you?”

“Yes Mistress.”

You then proceed to take a switch to my ass making it very red and sore. Finally you target my ass hole with light strokes of the switch. This drives me mad with lust.

When you’ve gotten your fill of that you apply some soothing oil to my ass and start to rub it in. Without warning you shove a finger up my ass hole “What düzce escort a tight little boy cunt you have. I’m going to have fun making you my bitch!”

You increase the number of fingers in me to 2 then 3, stretching me as you do so. Suddenly you pull your fingers out and shove a rather big dildo up my ass hole. This makes me grunt and squirm with pleasure.

“You like being fucked don’t you? How would like to suck a big black cock?”

“Yes Mistress I would.”

You shove the dildo as far as it will go in what you call my boy cunt.

“I bet I could turn you in to a fine little fagot, couldn’t I?”

“Yes Mistress.” I knew better than to disagree with her.

As you run your nails down my back again the door bell upstairs goes off and you leave to answer it wearing very little. I heard the door open and close and then footsteps coming down the stairs to our dungeon. I can sense others in the room but no one said a word but you “Undress!”

is all you say.

I am straining my ears trying to hear anything that will tell me what is going on but to no avail. Suddenly someone is fucking me again with the edirne escort dildo. As it was starting to feel very good to me it is yanked out hard. Then I feel something else pressing up against my ass hole.

What ever it is feel very warm and big. Much bigger that the dildo had been. It starts to push me open wider and wider and then is in me sliding deeper and deeper until I realize that it is a real cock fucking me. A big one at that.

My own cock is extremely hard and dripping an almost continuous stream of clear liquid. Every time the cock in my ass hole slides in it causes my cock pump out more pre-cum.

“I have something for you to moisten with you mouth. Open wide!”

As I do a cock is forced into my mouth. This was a fantasy of mine but I never thought it would ever come to pass. And now I was chocking on a rather large cock. It tasted better than I could have imagined so I sucked it for all I was worth.

“That’s enough.” My mistress said as she yanked the blindfold off of my eyes. When my eyes adjusted to the light I saw a big black cock attached to a big black man standing in front of me. My mistress came elazığ escort into view and took off what little she had on.

“Get me ready.” She commanded the black stud I had been sucking. He drops to his knees behind her and proceeds to lick her ass hole and finger her cunt. When he is done he sticks his finger in my mouth so I can suck the taste of your pussy off of his finger. Then he walks up to you and you let him slide his big black cock deep into your ass hole making sure I can see everything.

As he is fucking you who ever is behind me is fucking me at he same time.

This goes on for a while and you have an explosive orgasm and make lots of noise. You slide off of him and grab his cock. You bring it over to me and shove it in my mouth saying “Suck the taste of your Mistress’s ass hole of of this cock. Suck it good and maybe he’ll cum in your mouth.”

The cock in my mouth tastes of you and him at the same time. I can’t get enough as I take him down my throat from time to time.

As the two men fucking me start to move faster and faster you grab my cock and stroke me at the same pace. I’m completely overwhelmed. My senses are on overload.

I loose control and cum convulsing my mouth and ass hole as I do. This causes the two men fucking me to cum as well. It is the single most intense sensation I have ever felt.

The cocks slide out of me leaving me dripping cum out of all of me. I am completely exhausted and totally satisfied.

“Happy Birthday darling.” you whisper in my ear.

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I’d been paying for domination sessions with Mistress Allison for nearly 2 years. Paying heard earned cash to be humiliated, to be beaten, slapped, spat on, degraded and generally treated like shit. And I loved it. I had even had a double Domme session with her friend Mistress Gillian. I had really enjoyed that and had hoped she could arrange another or even better a session in front of multiple people. I got so hard at the thought of being dominated and humiliated in front of people. Men or women. Men? Well that was my ultimate I guess, and I had been trying to get Allison to arrange with one of her other clients to come in on our session and have me debased by having to suck his cock, lick his balls, lick his ass and take his cum on my face. No luck so far though.

When I made my latest contact to arrange a session Allison’s reply, whilst agreeing was a little out of the normal as she agreed to the time and date but told me to meet her in front of a shopping centre in the city centre. Intrigued I agreed and waited for the Saturday morning to arrive.

Mistress Allison was not what you would call a regular beauty. She was in her mid forties, overweight, rough looking, with short, dark, spiky hair and not the kind of woman I would be seen dead with. But her mind was perhaps the sexiest, kinkiest mind I had ever encountered and there was very little the woman was not up for trying or doing, I couldn’t comment on her prowess in bed as that had never been our relationship but I could imagine she would be very talented there. She seemed to adopt any role perfectly and the role she had with me was a cruel, sadistic bitch that got off on humiliating, embarrassing and degrading me. Our early sessions had very much been led by myself and the feelings I wanted to experience but soon enough Allison took over and I was left to follow.

I got off the bus and walked briskly towards the shopping centre, more than aware that I did not want to keep Mistress Allison waiting. Unfortunately on my way I bumped into an old friend who insisted on catching up with all my news. Exasperated I eventually managed to escape the tedium of his conversation but had lost 1 minutes from my day. I hurried towards the shopping centre, almost running.

I got my first surprise of the day when I arrived to find her sitting on a wooden bench out the front of the building with her blonde friend Gillian (who was also a heavy set woman, but thinner and prettier and younger than Allison). I walked up to them stood before them and bowing my head greeted them.

“Hi Mistress Allison, Mistress Gillian.”

Gillian suppressed a giggle but kept a straight face and Allison glowered at me and responded.

“Worm, you are a minute late, was it your intention to make me angry? If it was you are going to regret it.”

I started to apologise but was swiftly told to be quiet and make my tribute. I dug out my wallet and paid her for her and Gillian’s time in full view of hundreds of shoppers. Just doing that sent a thrill through me and I began to understand why Allison had done this in public.

“So where’s The Cunt today?”

‘The Cunt’ was my girlfriend of many years Julie. She was everything Allison wasn’t, younger, slimmer, beautiful and with a high paying job but I am afraid she very reserved in bed and all matters of sex. The wildest thing we had ever done was for me to fuck her doggy style and that was only once and Julie felt bad afterwards. Allison and I had often spoken of Julie during our sessions and early on I had been trained to refer to her and think of her only as ‘The Cunt’. I had shown Allison pictures of Julie, played her messages of what she sounded like on my phone so it felt like Allison knew Julie almost as well as I did and had hated her with a passion as soon as she had set eyes on her.

“She’s got a Trade Show in America, away for the week.”

Julie’s Trade Show’s and business trips were the times I mostly visited Allison.

Allison sneered at me and said to Gillian.

“Yeah? I bet she’s away over there fucking some guy and telling him all about her pathetic, loser boyfriend back home!”

They laughed about that, then Allison shot her right hand out and grabbed my balls through my jeans and pulled me close in. I didn’t know if any of the shoppers or passer-by’s had noticed but as she intensified her vice like grip it wasn’t my main consideration as she hissed up to me.

“Why don’t you text her that you love her. Right now.”

I got my mobile out as Allison continued to squeeze my nuts and texted Julie that I loved her. Allison and Gillian laughed and finally she released her grip on my crotch.

“Right then worm, we’d better get started, lots for us to do. You can kick things off by getting down on your knees and kissing both our shoes.”

I glanced around, despite being a busy Saturday afternoon (or perhaps because of it) no one was paying the least bit of notice to what three people were doing at one of a number of benches bursa escort in our area. Taking a deep breath and praying not to be seen or recognised I dropped to my knees as if tying my shoelaces and placed a big, wet kiss on the tips of Mistress Allison’s knee high black boots then did the same to Gillian’s (which were thigh high beneath a daring mini skirt). Allison reached down, grabbed my hair and lifted my head up before spitting on my face and giving my cheek a hard slap. People definitely noticed that but I didn’t look anywhere other than into my Mistress’s face.

“Right then, let’s get going we’ve got lots to do, haven’t we Gillian?”

*

On instruction, I walked a couple of paces behind them, told to admire their arses. That wasn’t a hard task though one or two people (mostly women) did give me a few strange looks at me staring at their arses so obviously. Our first stop was at a seedy little newsagents down a side street in the city centre. Gillian went in then emerged with a bottle of coke and took a drink as she explained what I had to do.

“Right wimp, go in there and buy two of the hardcore gay porn magazines on the top shelf.”

That was it, that was her only instruction. But it was enough. I peered through the dirty windows and saw a youngish Pakistani man at the counter, another to his side loading a fridge.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

Was all Allison had to bark to get me moving and enter the dingy shop.

From somewhere I found the resolve to move forward and push the door open to the shop. I nearly shit myself as a high pitched beep squealed out to indicate I had entered. Both shop workers looked up. I treated them to a nervous smile and moved over to the racks and racks of magazines. What a choice of depravity awaited me there: lesbian magazines, hardcore magazines, bondage magazines and yes, gay magazines all sat on that long, high top shelf. I could feel I was being watched as I scanned the magazines, knew they would see where my gaze was and was being judged for it already. I froze for a moment, found it hard to breathe, how could this be so hard? But I knew the answer, once I lifted those pornographic homosexual magazines and took them to the counter I would be judged, would be looked down on, pitied or derided by strangers. I heard voices laughing outside, no doubt Allison and Gillian enjoying my discomfort but it snapped me from my paralysis and I reached up and lifted “YOUNG, HUNG AND FULL OF CUM” and “STUDS” both sporting covers that left no doubt about the kind of person who would buy them. I hurried to the counter and paid for them, unable to meet the Pakistani shop assistant’s eyes, silently cursing as he took ages to locate the bar code, and then it didn’t scan and he took longer ringing the sale up manually. I could feel myself burning up with shame and embarrassment and took the thin striped bag with my porn from him and nearly ran from the shop.

My two tormentors were waiting on me.

“What took you so long worm? Too much choice was there? Yeah, I know your fantasies too well. Let us see them then.”

So as we walked up the narrow street back to the busy shopping precinct I handed over the magazines and the women flicked through them making constant reference to the size of the models cock, in particular how they dwarfed my own small cock. And they were right, I sneaked a glance and the men in the pictures had huge dicks that mine would have looked tiny next too. The thought gave me an erection (or was it looking at the muscular young men?). Despite having bought the magazines they went in Gillian’s large handbag.

Gillian offered me her bottle of juice for a drink, I declined needing a piss myself but Mistress Allison sensed this and ordered me to drink the rest of the bottle and from there on I was feeling uncomfortably full bladder wise.

Our next stop after five minutes walk was an Ann Summers shop. This was on a main street so as Allison and Gillian headed straight in I could not help but glance around nervously as I followed them in.

And once again I did not know where to look, I was surrounded by sexy underwear, sex toys and a hundred other items designed to make me feel uncomfortable in public. Not that Allison and Gillian were similarly encumbered. They headed straight for rows of sexy panties and were sifting through them purposefully. The shop was reasonably quiet but there were a few other customers and a few sales assistants.

“Hey bitch, get over here!”

Allison’s call out seemed way too loud to me as I reacted and hurried over to them, passing a couple of teenage girls that for sure had heard what Allison had called me and how I had reacted. She was still speaking too loudly for my liking when I arrived.

“What do you think to these Gillian, think they suit him?”

Allison had a pair of shocking pink panties, with a lacy white frill in her hands and held them against my crotch.

“Yeah çanakkale escort Ali, looks the right size for him.”

“Erm Ladies, can I help?”

A young female sales assistant (name badge Kelly) had arrived on the scene and I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me as Allison unloaded her story.

“Oh yes you can, you see our friend here has just admitted to us that he likes to cross dress and being the kind souls we are we said we’d help him out getting a nice pair of sexy panties.”

All three women were looking at me as I nodded unconvincingly, realising that my Mistress expected me to play along with the humiliation. As Kelly gushed with stories of how they were getting more men coming in there and how brave I was and other shit about liberation I just held onto the panties and tried not to be sick. So I went up to the till and paid for them and once I had Allison asked Kelly if I would be allowed to go and change into them in the changing room (this seemed to amuse the checkout girl (Sarah), especially when she assented and Allison gave me the panties and pointed me towards the changing area. So between Allison, Gillian, Kelly and Sarah and the two ladies in the queue behind me there was quite a crowd waiting for me when I emerged a couple of minutes late, my boxers in my hand and enjoying the silky feel of the panties against my crotch.

“How are they?”

Asked Kelly, God she was so earnest

“Um Good?”

“Do you guys need anything else?”

Allison answered for us.

“Yeah, I could do with a new strap on, eh bitch?” adding this with a hard slap to my backside that shocked the other girls and made Gillian burst out laughing!

*

Half an hour we spent in that place and I was completely deflated and humiliated as I exited and desperate for a pee too. Something that Allison had been counting on.

“God, what’s wrong with you worm? You’re hoping about like your feet are on fire.”

“Please Mistress I need to visit the loo urgently.”

“Aww do you need to go pee pee?”

All I could do was nod to her condescending baby talk.

“Well you can go, right here and now.”

We were standing in the centre of the pedestrian precinct. I looked around aghast at the suggestion but also knowing that I desperately needed to go and that this would be just the most humiliating thing ever. I’m sure my cock visibly twitched at the thought of it.

“But I can’t…”

I got no further as my bladder lost control and I pissed my new panties, standing before them. They openly laughed and pointed to the growing dark, damp spot at the crotch of my jeans and as it dribbled out the legs of them. People passing by noticed too and some stared, some hurried away, some laughed and some stopped to watch. I was so ashamed.

“Oh you’re a bad boy bitch, I think Mistress Gillian might want to punish you for that.”

It had been a standing joke since the time Gillian sat in on one of our session how she had really enjoyed whacking my bare ass with anything at hand ( belt, crop, hand) and she had struck harder than Allison ( I had been forced to decide who struck harder). Anyway, Gillian took my hand and walking like someone who had just pissed his pants I feebly went with her as she led me down a small alley up the side of a pub and pushed me over a large bin. There she pulled my trousers and panties down to my ankles and proceeded to spank the hell out of my ass. I mean she turned it red raw and I was literally crying by the time she finally came to a halt with a sore hand.

“Now get dressed bitch, we’ve got one last stop to make and I think you’ll like it, not too much though!”

With that enigmatic comment I pulled up my soiled underwear and jeans and waddled after them as they headed further away from the commercial centre of the city. It was quite the trek to make with the signs of having pissed yourself so visibly obvious and I attracted plenty of attention en route. But finally Allison led us into a dirty, run down bar that I knew had quite the sordid reputation. She went straight up to the guy behind the bar and had a long conversation with him before beckoning me to come forward.

“Give the man £20 bitch.”

I didn’t argue, just forked over the cash.

“OK, go on back, Allison you know where it is, you two can go with him if you want, I’ll get someone through quick as I can.”

This mystery was resolved as I was led through the back of the pub and we entered a door marked PRIVATE which once opened revealed a basic toilet, sink and a hole at the back wall. To be precise a gloryhole. The girls were looking at my face for the moment when the penny dropped and laughed when it did. The walls in this room were covered in foul graffiti and all sorts of lewd offers and claims. Allison handed me a black marker and said.

“I want you to put The Cunt’s name and number up on the wall, hopefully might rize escort drum a bit of business up for her!”

Sadly, I knew just what Mistress Allison wanted to see so I found a patch of clear wall space and printed the words “JULIE ADAMS IS A CHEAP WHORE AND TAKES IT IN ANY HOLE FOR A TENNER” then wrote her real mobile number under my words.

“Good work, now get your kit off and man the hole, who knows what might come through it!”

As was customary when I undressed before Mistress Allison the size of my cock was mocked. So as I folded my shirt and still damp trousers and panties in the corner and dropped to my knees in front of the glory hole Allison and Gillian were making jokes at my expense and flexing their pinkies implying they were bigger than my member ( they weren’t but it would be a close run thing).

As I waited I couldn’t stop my eyes lifting to the vile things I had written about Julie, I felt an extreme mixture of guilt and arousal and felt my small cock start to harden. And then movement on the other side of the wall, feet shuffling, a zip being lowered and a long, thin cock was pushed through the hole. I gave a start and looked at it, its engorged purple tip had a wet sheen to it. I looked up at Allison to find her with her mobile phone out, recording this and she nodded impatiently at me, indicating I should get started forthwith. Hesitantly I reached my hand up and wrapped my fingers around it and began to slowly pump it back and forth which elicited a satisfied grunt from the unseen recipient.

I found it the strangest sensation, having another man’s cock in my hand, it was hypnotic pushing it back then pulling it forward and feeling it jerk to more erectness under my touch. But I knew that more than a hand job was required so I eventually released my grip and shuffled forward on my knees and opened my lips and took the strangers cock between them and start to suck on it. Allison took pictures but other than that it was silent on our side and I sensed that both she and Gillian was to some degree entranced by watching me, there was no joking now it seemed like everyone was holding their breath. Then I had to as the cock pushed further in and I gagged on it, my first deep throat as it prodded at the back of my throat.

I felt such revulsion at myself for doing this and even more that I was so evidently aroused by it. I wanted to reach down and play with myself as I continued to greedily suck on the cock in my mouth. It was slippery and I could taste pre-cum oozing from its bulbous tip, a heady mixture of this and my own saliva spilled from the corners of my mouth to the dirty tiles beneath me. I looked (with dick still jammed in my mouth) at the lewd graffiti about my girlfriend and wondered what she would make of seeing me like this then looked the other way and stared into the camera that Mistress Allison was recording me on wondering how she would use this footage. A shiver of excitement went through my entire body at the thought of my humiliation being seen by others, perhaps even people I knew.

Then I felt the anonymous cock in my mouth begin to shake and pulse much harder than before and I heard a couple of load groans from the other side of the glory hole and then I felt the first thick spurts of cum splatter on the inside of my mouth. Instinctively, I made to pull my head back but hands grabbed my neck and hair and held me in place, Mistress Allison and Gillian determined that I would take the whole load of unknown cum in my mouth. I had no choice but to just kneel there and have my mouth and throat filled with a seemingly never ending series of sprays of the thick, cloying stuff, nearly gagging as it began to slip down my gullet until finally he was done and through the hole he slapped his now flaccid, sticky dick on my lips before removing it from the hole completely, I heard his retreating steps and the hands were taken from my head and I could pull back from the glory hole.

“Well worm, was that everything you had dreamed of?”

I knelt there before them, humiliated but aroused and meekly nodded.

“Good, you can finish yourself off, wank onto the floor then lick it all up!”

The two of them stood over me and each smoked a cigarette and spoke about banal and mundane everyday things like what they would have for tea and what they were doing that night whilst I knelt between them and jerked off, that more than anything else that day made me feel pathetic and worthless, that I was a piece of shit not worthy of their attention. And it spurred me to cum all the quicker spraying my own seed on the dirty floor of that obscene cubicle. They didn’t even look up. But I knew better than to disobey my Mistress so without having to be told again I lowered my head and licked my own cum from the floor where I had spilled it, my own seed mixing with the taste of the anonymous guy’s cum.

Allison’s voice told me that our session was over as she addressed me.

“Finished? Good, get dressed then and you can by us a drink.”

Five minutes later Gillian, Allison and myself were sat at the bar sipping on drinks speaking about when I would like to visit with Allison next. I was distracted though, my eyes roaming the pub and it’s denizens wondering which, if any, of the characters I had just sucked off and swallowed their cum. I was never to know.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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I don’t switch. Seriously. I never switch. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the kind of woman who always has to be on top. I certainly enjoy being taken on occasion, but I just don’t — ever — let myself be topped. So why the hell was I naked and kneeling in his bedroom? He had asked and it just seemed reasonable at the time. This will teach me to agree to things while still basking in the afterglow.

It’s not that I don’t trust him. I actually do, crazy as that seems. I never trust people this much. I didn’t know him all that well, but I knew he wouldn’t make me do anything I didn’t really want to do and I really did trust him to make this a good experience. So, why was I freaking out? It’s not like it hadn’t been a good evening so far. We went out, had some dinner, took a stroll down by the waterfront and generally had a really good time.

Then he’d asked. Last time we were together he let me run wild. I got to be my full on domme self and he was the perfect submissive. He was able to let go and give me complete control, complete trust. It was amazing. That he wanted me to return the favor was totally reasonable. And it wasn’t even that I was worried about the pain. In fact, I was rather looking forward to that. So what the hell was I so worried about.

It was during that thought that he walked into the room. My face must have betrayed my inner monologue because he asked, “You having second thoughts?”

“You could say that,” I sheepishly said into the floor. I looked up at him. He was leaning against the door frame, the light from the hall silhouetting the luscious curve of his body. Damn, I wanted him, wanted to please him. Stupid hormones.

He crossed his arms and sighed softly, “If you’re really uncomfortable we don’t have to do this. It’s not any fun if you don’t enjoy it.”

“No, I want to,” I said half to myself. “I’m just scared.”

“Of me?” he asked carefully.

“Of me.” Where had that come from? “I don’t know…I…ugg” I grumbled, rather disgusted with myself.

He crossed over to me and sunk cross-legged to the floor. He looked at me and just waited patiently, silently asking me to elaborate. Great. If I don’t know muğla escort what I think how am I supposed to explain it to him?

After a good while of racking my brain, trying to figure out why it was rebelling, I shrugged and said, “I’m afraid of what I might find down the rabbit hole.”

He reached callused fingers to stroke my cheek, “I’ll catch you.”

“Promise?” I asked tentatively.

“I will never let you fall.”

And something in my brain broke and I trusted him utterly. In that moment I knew I would let him do anything. That realization must have reflected in my face because, without a word, he stood up and moved behind me. Still staring at the floor, I heard him open a drawer and rummage about. The drawer closed and I heard soft feet on the carpet coming back to me.

“Stand. Arms at your sides.” I did.

I felt cool, slick fabric being drawn across my back. My breath caught in my throat as dark silk covered my eyes, shutting out the light. It must have been a scarf, because he used the long ends to tie my hair up off my back.

His hands moved to gently caress my bare neck. His breath tickled as he planted the softest of kisses along my shoulder. One hand slid around my waist to rest beneath my breasts while the other traced its way down my back to cup my derriere. There, his fingers dug in hard, painfully so, while the other hand held me still — all while still giving my neck the softest of butterfly kisses. A slow warmth crept through me, flushing from my cheeks to my thighs.

He moved from me and I heard a small metallic sound. I stood as still as I could, trying not to betray just how aroused I already was. I could feel him in front of me, but he said nothing. My cheeks burned hotter knowing that he must be there, staring at me as my every though reflected in my face and body.

After some time, a hand violently tweaked one nipple and then the other. I gasped in pain. A hand cupped a breast, kneading gently, and suddenly a clamp painfully squeezed one nipple and then the other. I tried not to grimace. How many times had I done just this to someone else? ordu escort Somewhere a bottom was laughing at me. My nipples screamed as small weights were attached.

As I struggled to catch my breath he moved behind me and grabbed my wrists, bringing them together in the small of my back. I felt them being strapped into heavy leather cuffs. There would be no soft fur lining for me today. I liked it.

A hand grasped me hard around the back of my neck and roughly turned me around. A well placed shove sent me sprawling face first onto the bed. His hands positioned me so that I was bent ninety degrees at the waist, my head and torso resting on the bed, but my legs and hips hanging off the edge, ass in the air. This felt oddly familiar — once again, somewhere a bottom was laughing.

With a swish of air, a smack fell on my ass. I gasped as the force if it pressed my clamped nipples painfully into the bed. I wriggled and shifted, finally arching my back out to keep my nipples off the bed.

A hand pressed down on my back, forcing my chest into the bed. His voiced hissed in my ear, “You will take your pain and you will like it!”

I began to shudder uncontrollably. He gave me a few moments to regain composure before another heavy blow fell. I struggled and failed to let my thighs take the weight of it. Then another smack landed, and another. Each blow forcing small gasps and cries out of my throat. Soon the blows fell like rain. I felt like my entire body was on fire. Beyond thought, I screamed and cried and begged. And as suddenly as they began, the blows stopped.

His hand made soothing caresses across the red and burning flesh of my bottom as he made quiet assurances. A hand moved to stroke my back and he laid small kisses up my spine. His other hand moved to lower things. His fingers parted my folds, letting the wetness gush out and irrevocably betraying my arousal. I shuddered and gasped as his fingers found my clit, massaging with maddening gentleness. I moaned helplessly as his fingers pushed into me. Of their own accord my hips pushed outward, demanding more. This earned me another slap osmaniye escort on the ass.

Awash in sensation, I found myself standing up again with no idea how I got that way. I felt fingers in my hair and the blindfold fell away. He stood just inches before me, terrifying and beautiful. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me hard, forcing my grateful mouth open to him. His kiss seared into me, driving the air from my lungs and claiming me utterly. My head spun as he broke away and I struggled to remain upright.

He moved away again and I hear that drawer open. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a knife being drawn from a sheath. I began to quiver and fought for each breath. He walked in front of me and crossed his arms. In his right hand he held a small and wickedly sharp dagger. I tried in vain to stop shaking.

He moved towards me until he stood mere inches away. He twisted the dagger in the air before me, showing me its edge. “Do you trust me?”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly gone dry. I looked into his eyes and saw danger. I should have been afraid and I was, but I was also as wet as I had ever been. I nodded.

“Stand very, very still.” He moved closer still and ran the flat of the blade across the upper swell of a breast, as if shaving it. The blade was cold and I struggled to keep myself from moving. If I faltered the blade would cut me, but not if I stood perfectly still.

An utterly wicked smile spread across his lips and while one hand held the blade to my chest, the other moved between my legs. My pulse thundered in my ears as his fingers moved within me. It took every ounce of concentration I possessed to keep myself from bucking against him. All the while his eyes held mine in the most intimate grip of all. Tears streamed down my face as my climax approached. I screamed as the orgasm ripped through me. It felt as if the whole world had shifted.

When my senses returned, the knife was gone but a tiny red line across my breast wept a single drop of blood. He gently removed the nipple clamps and a grimaced as the blood flowed back into them. Then he reached behind me and released my wrists from their cuffs. He cupped my face in his hands and laid his forehead against mine. “Thank-you,” he whispered.

As my knees finally gave out I reached for him. He held me hard as my body was wracked with uncontrollable sobs. I cried for what felt like hours, and then there was nothing left. I was clean. Somewhere a bottom was smiling at me.

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He dominated her, as she had so easily dominated conversation at dinner. Her thin legs writhed beneath him, teasing him with the utter fact that she could so abruptly escape his grasp; they were, however, dancing only as a tease. She longed for him as he had longed for her. Hungrily, desperately, and unceasingly. Those dark, daring eyes had pierced and tingled the depths of her thighs countless times, and, finally, the two of them were united here in the restrictions of his bedroom. She was captivated by the weight of him, pressing her down, holding her torso so helpless beneath him.

He opened his eyes as he kissed her lips, considering exchanging his rough, uncaring kisses for tenderness. The temptation, however, that had lured him to her for the last few weeks was not a sweet, subtle thing. It was hungry and lustful, just now birthing the slightest twinge of love and deeper connection. His fingers found her thick wrists, and he pinned them down, feeling her actually struggle against him. Suddenly in realization of his actions, he arched his back away from her, ashamed and fearful that he had frightened the girl. In her gray, sparkling eyes was not fear, but, instead, desperation. Thankfully, he thought, he had not terrorized anything but her own desire. Still, he could not continue to kiss, as if devouring her fleshy lips, until he was certain that she was prepared to make this existential plunge with him. He tightened his grip on her wrists, to the point where pain was obviously induced, and the tips of her fingers screamed silently with numbness. Her breathless expression only changed slightly. Her chest, still falling and rising with her heaving breathes, arched a bit sharper, and her eyes, which never left his, drowned completely in an anguishing want, an obvious need. She pulled her hands into fists and pushed against his grip. He realized at that moment, that she longed for the fight. A submissive she was not, but she did have something that he couldn’t quite describe. Their lived in her a need for submission, though she could not express or give into the idea of it. He realized then that she needed to push against him, to fight him, ever so gently, to maintain her own sex drive.

He let slack back into his taut spine, bending to kiss at her, but now he ran his tongue and lips along her neck. Those gray, eager eyes fluttered with the flick of his tongue, and her flailing legs tightened together, nearly bound beneath him uncontrollably. There was a moment when he bit her, harder than a nibble, but not threatening to draw blood that she tightened to quickly beneath him that she had stopped breathing altogether. Once again fearing that he had overstepped some unknown bound, he loosened his jaw and replaced his teeth with a falsely healing kiss. The air whirling in her lungs finally found its way out of her quivering lips in the form an anxious, satisfied moan. Smiling and sighing quickly to himself, understanding that he had yet to break her nerve, he bit her again, this time, slightly harder. He pulled her trembling fists together above her head, capturing both of them above her head with one hand, and allowing the other to rush quickly over a breast and past her clothed stomach and thighs to the hemming of her knee, length skirt. This was were he would violate her the way he imagined in fanatical, sickeningly sexual daydreams.

She moaned for him, hummed blissfully behind her pressed teeth. Occasionally, she slipped her mouth open to whimper for him, biting her lip to silence what would undoubtedly become and endless repetition of the same longing whimper. Anticipation was overtaking her as he skidded the tips of his fingers down her body. He seemed so tame and wild at the same time, that she wasn’t sure if he was in control of his actions or not, but she oddly trusted bilecik escort him implicitly. She had, in that moment, given herself to him, though one thing unnerved her. As he slid up the bottom of her tight skirt, his hands passed over her left outer thigh. His head, that was tilted down, opposite of hand controlling her wrists, quirked slowly to one side. She realized then that he had discovered a secret that she would have openly warned him of if she hadn’t been so lost in erotic ecstasy moments before her back was pressed into the springs of his bed.

He had pulled up that dark skirt to reveal scars that were carved menacingly into the fleshy side of her upper thigh. Most were faint, others were more vibrant, but all were obviously aged and faded. For a moment, he was perplexed. He looked up at her, aware that she would recognize his glitch in movement. The look on her face, for once, did twist to look somewhat fearful, but what he couldn’t seem to extract was the nature of that fear. Had he finally crossed a line by touching her masochistic masterpiece, or was she afraid of his judgment. His head swam with questions in mere moments. Surely she had done this to herself, but it seemed so uncharacteristic of the upbeat, sassy, and fearless individual that he had encountered up to this point, that always used sly bitchiness to degrade her fellow conversationalists. So now, both of them breathless, sat for 15 seconds or so, while he processed the situation and the expression contorting continuously on her face. He narrowed the slits of his eyes, having come to a decision.

He kissed at those scars, for only a moments, tickling along the outlines of razor blades and broken glass. She caught her breath, gasping a scared and quick. Then, smoothly, but with little notice, he pulled himself between her legs, forcing them open. She sighed. In that sigh was every reservation she had held since the first time she had slit her own flesh, and she was in that moment twelve once again, replacing the need to bring blood to the surface with the need to have this man penetrate her until she climaxed for him and the glorification of him only. He had positioned himself between her thighs now and glanced down to examine the sex vibrating waves of heat against his unbuttoned blue jeans. He noticed then, that she was panty-less. Thinking very seriously for a moment, he affirmed in his head that he had not removed her underwear and looked up at her questioningly. He freed her hands and placed both of his palms on the outside of either thigh; one of those sweaty palms was still discretely massaging her scarred flesh.

He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her, and through her breaths she smiled, shrugging at the hint in his eyes. While she had not expected the night to end this way, perhaps her disregard for underwear was an insinuation of what she privately anticipated. The seriousness between them broke, for a moment, and they exchanged a chuckle. He had not expected her to be panty-less, and she had not predicted that he would ever had discovered she was without them.

“Slut,” he whispered, thinking that he would now descend to make his mouth even with her sex.

“Your slut.” Her words were quick and almost without thought, but they interrupted his descent. He gulped and tilted his head upward.

“What did you say?” He asked, almost stuttering. She recognized the change in him immediately but was unable to calculate its origin.

“I said I’m your slut.” She was obviously nervous, for the first time fearful that she may have frightened him with hurried assumption of belonging. His face blank, he sat up. Removing his hands from her, he unbuttoned his jeans and extracted the erect bulge from his boxers. Slowly, but with manisa escort much control and balance, he leaned himself over her, bringing his hips to meet hers and slouching so his head came to just below hers. His hands found their way to her wrists once again, and he pulled them apart to either side of her fanned, mousy brown hair. He positioned himself to where he could easily enter her stinging lips, and he looked up at her.

“Whose slut are you?” He asked, senseless at the moment. She hesitated, the playful mood that had engulfed them before disintegrated like water in the bottom of a heated pan.

“Yours.” She spoke slowly and softly, and then he penetrated her. It was at this moment that his head snapped back into place. His mind, that had drifted previously into the animalistic, found its way back into reality. He felt her tense around his pleasure and grew even harder at the shrill, slipping moan she released. The thrust into her brought him even with her face, and he rested his weight on her forearms. He withdrew his shaft and plunged again. The thought of owning her satisfied an instinctual need he hadn’t realized until this moment that he had been searching for. Perhaps this is why no relationship had survived the realities of real life, but in this moment, he was complete within her.

“Whose whore are you?” He grunted to her, raising and lowering his hips again.

“Yours-” She answered almost too quickly, she thought, but that unyielding answer had complimented his momentary perfection.

Now he began to make a rhythm, pressing against the depths of her sex and releasing the pressure as he backed away only to force back down into her. He asked her several questions of the same nature, filling in other words. Slut, whore, bitch, skank, anything that he could imagine. He flung word after word to her, and her answer was the same : a tortured, unquestioning “yours.” Deeper and deeper he dove, quickening his pace. The words between them became fewer, and he lost his voice in the sheerness of their encounter. He surrendered one wrist and slipped his fingers along her face, wrapping his fingers around her throat. Threatening to deprive her of air, but never cutting off the flow, he squeezed in tortuous tease. He lowered his body by releasing her other wrist, pressing his body against her, resting his chin above her forehead, drenching it in hot, grunting breaths.

Her freed hands began to feel the warmth of circulation, and she strangled her fingers in the cottony roughness of his sheet. She could feel the heat itching away at every inch of her leaden skin. The thickness of his shaft crashed into the lining of her sex, and she felt the pressure build on her g-spot, like air blown into a balloon that was already too full. She leaned her head back to give him access to the fragility of her neck. She smiled to feel him threaten to rob her of air, and nearly squealed when his mouth kissed suddenly at her forehead. Those lips trialed down her face and to her cheeks and finally her neck. He nibbled, subtly, at her. She tossed her head, unraveling the high strung notes in her throat. Climax struck against stomach and sank into her clitoris. Her eyes, that she had held so tightly closed in the last few moments, opened, as if unhinged.

She moaned, breaths becoming more uneven than before. He, aware of her growing pleasure, looked at up at her to observe the orgasm overtake her. Their eyes met, however, and she spoke to him.

“Can I cum for you?’ She was obviously desperate, needy, and attempting, with all of her strength, to wait for his permission. Craving his consent, she begged with glossy eyes and the squeezing of her muscles around his heavy shaft. Hearing the desire in her voice, he deepened mersin escort his strokes into her, abruptly ready to release his own ecstasy.

“Yes, baby, cum for me.” Their was not lust nor love in his voice, but, instead, lingered the tone of preparation, as if it was the most certain and satisfying thing in all the world for her to validate him with a heavy, hard, and regretfully sweet orgasm. She did, just that in fact, as soon as the words escaped his lips. Her back, arching to the point of pain, pressed up against her, and he raised his weight off of her to give her room to squirm. It hit her like a hit of salvia and a giggle of insanity. It was, by far, the most excellent feeling that she had ever experienced. Adrenaline fucked the nerves in her brain, senselessly, mimicking how he now threw himself into her. He sat up completely, gripping at her fleshy, tense hips, repeatedly feeding her body more incentive to cum. She was undeniable the most beautiful woman in the world to witness cum on his throbbing sex. She was wild, with no ambition or regret or memory it seemed. Expecting life to begin and end in this moment. She whimpered for her, repeating “yours” over and over in gasping, halting breaths.

As he fed her need, she milked his pleasure. Bearing witness to her orgasm, he was brought to his own, and he filled her quickly. He tried to continue to thrust into her, which he did successfully for a few moments, until his legs trembled and quivered uncontrollably. It was at that moment that he nearly fell over her, catching himself with a strong right arm. His abdominal muscles clenched and released, and his length grew. Her eyes finally rolled back into the proper position in her head, still dizzy from that last drops of sensuality he had blessed her with. She reached a week arm around his neck and pulled up into him. His left hand assisted her chest to his, and they both balanced their, reeling from their pleasure. He groaned, perhaps grunted once or twice, nearly embarrassed at the way his body quivered above her. She was unaware of his shaking as she trembled as well, clinging to him to savor the warmth of his ejaculation overflowing within her. He brought his lips together, forcing them to relax, and breathed heavily through his nose. Finally, her throbbing stopped, and she went limp in his arms. He caught his breath as his orgasm subsided as well, but held tight against her. It wasn’t until like his adrenaline had stopped ravaging his veins that he lowered her weak body back onto the mattress. Their was a hint of sweat on her brow, and he wiped it away unthinkingly. Her arm drooped from around his neck, and she slid her thumb lovingly against the length of his jaw line before dropping it with a noiseless thud back to the mattress as well.

She saw him now in a different light. He was no longer the vanilla sexed, smooth talker she could so easily shut down. He had stolen an obvious part of her, that she had set out for the world to claim years ago. His eyes didn’t look into her eyes at first, but traced up and down the curves of her body, capturing the moment intensely.

“Thank you.” She sighed, without hesitation or forethought. He pulled his eyebrows in, as if confused, and finally let his eyes find hers. Opening his lips for the first time since his orgasm, he permitted a creeping, crooked smile to overtake his face.

“You’re welcome.” He said, doubtlessly.

“Take me again?” She begged now, suddenly and with reason unknown to her. It seemed some insatiable child was reborn in her. Something she had buried and awoken with a pet cemetery vengeance. She was his for the night, as least for the moment.

He sighed a half laugh, half chuckle. His eyes broke their contest with hers, and his smile grew inside. Then, in mere moments, that smile contorting into some more conniving. He raised a suggestive, menacing eyebrow.

“Whose slut are you?” He reveled in her pause of thought.

“I’m yours.” She answered him, under the impression that he would have realized that by now.

“Good.” He removed himself from her, gripped her hips harshly, and simply flipped her over…

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