HNT 12/31/09

I don’t believe in New Years Resolutions…not when we can make changes happen whenever we bring our Will to bear….and nilla is proof positive of this!

So, for resolutions unspoken, my lips are sealed! My heart, however, is open and happy…for i have found many new friends here, and at long last, peace, lust, and an outlet for that which has always hungered inside of me.

New Years Blessings to You, dear Sir, and to all the bloggers who drop by with or without comments! May you know only enough sorrow to be leavened by happiness, only enough pain to bring you fulfillment, and only enough sex…well…there’s NEVER enough sex!!!

Blessed Be and Happy 2010!

Red cheeks

His hand held her head to the wall, hard.  His other hand pulled sharply at her short cotton skirt, jerking it down from her waist, down her hips, and leaving it to fall to the floor at her ankles. White skirt. White tile floor. White stilleto’s now hidden. Red wall. Red face. Red ass, as he began spanking her. Same cheek. Same force. Not anger. Not moodiness. Just steady, rhythmic slapping.

God it hurt. Tears began to swell and fall, even as her asscheek swelled. Her cheek, pressed so tight to the wall felt hot and red as well, both cheeks, same side, both reddened by his hand.

When he was done, he turned away. Went back into the living room, taking his cooling cup of coffee with him to watch the morning news.

Perchance, pt. 2

Someone had turned the music up really loud, she thought, mistaking the roaring in her ears for music. Her friend taj had just had an O in the middle of the room, with a man she now had led up to the bar. How the hell was she going to make polite conversation with a man who still had the wetness on his fingers from her friends pussy?

As if reading her mind, He looked steadily at her, raised his moist fingers to taj’s mouth and said simply “clean them”.

Of all the! ? ! She gazed at the impudent man. Oh, he was something to look at to be sure, and he certainly knew it, didn’t he,  Mister Bossy?? She shook herself, remembering, right, BDSM club. This would be the D part. As in Dom. taj had explained that to her, that she would be meeting all kinds of people but that the Dom’s and their female counterparts, Domme’s or Mistresses, would stand right out in any crowd. They didn’t have to dress fancy, wear outfits, though some did, it was their manner that marked them as …what had taj said? Kings of the Universe. Something like that. This Dom’s eyes were thickly lashed, and deep dark pools of blue. There was a challenge here, and she could not help but rise to it. She raised her chin, cocked an eyebrow, lifted her glass to her lips smoothly. Inside, however, she could feel a small trickle of heat begin to melt, somewhere behind her belly button. She did not try to watch her friends mouth working His fingers one by one, for she was giving him the eye as much as she was getting it from him. Never one to back down from a challenge, she lowered her glass, and smiled slowly at him. Not a full, pretty smile, but nearly a smirk. Her smile grew larger as she watched his eyes narrow, laser into hers with quelling intensity. She refused to cower.

He could not believe it. She was baiting him and had yet to utter a word. taj was done cleaning his fingers, yet his hand stayed locked between her lips as he and the woman fenced with their eyes.  He felt a flash of heat, low in his belly. She was not of his world, but he knew, before this night was through, that he would bury his cock deeply inside of her. He wondered how much sexual experience she had. Certainly not any of his kind, but a woman who looked as tousled and sexy as she did must have an interesting history. He wondered about her pussy. His eyes slid from hers for a moment, danced over her tits, and weren’t they absolutely fine tits? Nice, large, fleshy melons. God he lived for women with big tits.  His palms itched to touch, and find her nipples.  Yearned to pinch them to full saucy hardness. Lay a few clamps on them and lead her around the room by them. He looked back at the stormy gray eyes.  Oh yes, she knew what he was thinking. He though again about fucking her. Her cunt. Her delectible mouth. Painted a gorgeous deep red, and glossy. He wouldn’t mind having that saucy lipstick sliding off on his cock. Nossir.  Well, he’d like any of her holes, but he thought he most wanted to fuck her ass. Not from the back, but  from the front so he could stare into those gray cat eyes of hers when she felt the full brunt of his cock as he full-throttled it into her brown highway. Slowly he smiled. Cocked his brow at her. Thrust the thought at her that she would be his. Tonight.

She felt her eyes widen with shock. He was..coming on to her? As her friend sucked his fingers, the fingers that….my god, he does think he’s king of the universe, she thought, amazed. And dammit, she was aroused, too.  He stepped closer to her, only a foot from where her legs crossed at the knee, her glossy heeled sandal toe only inches from his thigh. His fingers pulled from taj’s mouth, with a slight wet popping sound, but neither noticed. taj thought about an introduction, but looking at the two locked in mortal eye combat, she silently slipped away. She thought she’d seen Master Philip come in and he might need a blowjob before his subbie arrived. If she arrived. That one was as flighty as a raven. taj wended her way around groups and clusters of people meeting and greeting as she went. As she slipped from the larger room, she looked back towards the bar. Sir Tony and Kayla were certainly hitting it off. She smiled, knowing the fireworks coming later tonight would not all be happening over the lakefront outside.

Glow at Your Own Risk

He left her splayed over the footrest in front of his chair. Arms and legs secured to the sturdy legs of the heavy leather seat, she wasn’t going anywhere until he decided she was.

He walked into the kitchen for a beer. Drank half of it leaning against the doorjam, looking at her. Ass red and welted. Cunt dripping cum slowly onto the floor between her splayed knees.  She was such a beautiful sight.

He pushed off the doorway and came up behind her, admiring how gorgeous her flesh glowed after her spanking. She moaned when he dragged the cold, sweating bottle across one asscheek, and then the other. Moaned again when the chilled bottle slid up and down her wet slit.

Taking a last long gulp to finish the bottle, he picked up the crop.  A man’s work was never done.

Perchance (pt 1)

He hated being alone. He liked the feeling of a woman in his life. The scents, the sounds, the textures. The sex. Oh, yeah, the sex. He moved through the scene these days, picking up a woman here and there, but no one really meshed. No one stayed. No one was “in it” except for the fast thrill, the adrenaline of a good lashing, the hot glow of a well spanked ass. Oh, he was good at what he did, damned good. But an occasional beating here and there was not satisfying on a deeper level.

Yet, here he was, driving to yet another Group event. New Years Eve at a bondage club was certainly more enticing than, say, heading down to Times Square. He knew he’d have fun with his friends, and taj would expect a beating. She always expected a beating. She spread herself around, generously, to the guys who came stag. And she was a delicious subbie. Just, not his. Who would’ve thought he’d be looking at exclusivity at this point in the game. He wanted his own subbie. His wife wasn’t in the picture, nor in the lifestyle. She preferred Jamaica and Rubierto. What the fuck kind of name was Rubierto anyway. Dickhead. Now that was a name. Suited the guy, too. Mr. Armani Suit Dickhead at your service. He chuckled.  Turned his car into the parking lot and prepared to pretend to have fun, at least until the fun kicked in.

She was pulled into the room by her friend Taj. They’d met forever ago. And yet she’d never felt compelled to explore Taj’s lifestyle…that walk on the dark side, until recently. Until Rubierto had dumped her for some older woman. She sighed. The jerk. Jerk-o.

“Stop that!” Taj commanded her brusquely.

“What?”  she asked, slapping on a polite smile as she was herded past a Mistress in the tightest black leather corset she’d ever seen a woman squeezed into. Her tits were…enormous and sat poised atop the cups like .. well, she couldn’t even think of a metaphor that fit that one. And she, a writer, even.

“You’re thinking about that dickhead Rubierto again, and he does NOT belong here.” Taj spun around, face to face–almost nose to nose.

“That no-good sonofabitch fucked you over. Move on, kiddo. You’re worth 20 of that fucked up dickhead. Trust me, tonight will change your life.”

Well, on that one point she would agree. She’d never, ever seen some of the things she’d already seen and that was just heading to the bar. She gave her order to the bartender. He lifted a brow in a somewhat condescending way when she ordered her ginger ale. She stared back. He winked, then passed her the glass of bubbling ale. Phew. One down, how many more encounters to go. This was the strangest thing she had ever done. At least it could prove to be good story fodder, she mused…when her brain shut off.

He walked into the club. Music flowed out into the crisp night air as the door opened, and a deep throbbing base accompanied the twinkling of stars in the dark sky. Crossing the room, he met taj halfway. Grabbed her hair from the back and pulled her into him for a hard kiss. She giggled, smiling up at him.

“I’m so glad you came, Sir! Listen, i brought a friend with me tonight. her first time. if you have a moment to spare, Sir, would you come and meet her?”

He smiled down at the diminutive woman. She was pretty, feisty, and a good sex companion.  What the hell, he owed her. Laying his hand on her rounded shoulder, he bent into her back and  nibbled her earlobe.

“lead on” he murmured against her ear. He could feel her shiver of delight. Her ears were extremely sensitive. She’d probably orgasm right now if he blew a bit into it. So he did. She stopped moving forward. Tilted her head to allow him greater access. He bit into her lobe again, then swirled his tongue in her outer canal. He felt the shudder run through her, the low moan that came from deep inside of her. Slipping his finger down her spine, around the sweet curve of her asscrack, he felt the wetness dripping from her. Hmm, a honey of  a subbie, to be sure.

taj turned to him, smiled. “That was a hell of a hello, Sir! Thank you, Sir. Will you come now?”

“Maybe later,” he said with a smile. He laughed as she pouted,

“Oh, you mean come with you to meet your friend? oh, I thought you were offering me a blowjob, pretty subbie.” She batted her eyes at him. Then laughed and led him to the bar.

She could not believe her eyes. Had that man just…just fingered taj? Nibbling her ear and …she was certain that taj had just had an O! in public! Geeze…was that…pussy juice on taj’s thighs? And why was she looking at taj anyway? She looked down, smoothing the camisole top she wore. Fidgeted with her skirt. Checked her mile high heels that Taj had insisted she wear tonight. Fishnet thigh highs? Ah well, best to blend in, she mused.

He looked at taj’s friend as they approached the bar. She certainly looked like an uncomfortable outsider. Well, except for the ‘nets and heels. Hmmm, his personal favorite. He glanced at taj. He would not put it beyond her to have set this up as some kind of …blind date. Perish the thought. This woman was as vanilla as they came. How the hell had taj persuaded her to come to a BD/sm club on New Years Eve?

The Prisoner

He sat in his computer chair, oblivious to the world around Him. His tasks consumed his attention, He was known and renowned for His attention to even the smallest details.

she slipped into the room silently. she watched Him working for a moment, then turned quietly and began to shed her day. she hung her blazer and skirt on the hanger and slipped it into the bathroom to freshen up. Wool only needed cleaning so often. Simply airing it out took away much of the day’s wear from it. Tomorrow she would press it, then hang it away. He had taught her to take care of her things, a skill she had sorely lacked before last year. She smiled to remember the look on His face when He had come to her place unannounced. Usually she prepared carefully for His visits, but this one time, she had slipped back into old habits and the place…well, suffice it to say that her bottom reminded her frequently after that visit, to put her stuff away, pronto! Since moving in with Him 5 months ago, her personal habits had rarely faltered. He had made her. She felt the familiar fluttering inside her heart. He had created her, molded her. She was what He needed, and He was everything to her.

The blouse she wore went into the hamper, as well as the chemise she had chosen rather than a bra. He hated the marks a brassiere left on her skin, so although she preferred to contain her large breasts that way, it was His way that mattered.

Naked, she stopped at the bathroom sink and began to wash away her work makeup. Eyes closed as she gently removed her mascara, she didn’t hear Him come up behind her. She jumped as His hands closed over hers, keeping her gaze shuttered. Oh, she hated being blindfolded. She much preferred to see His face, to watch as the Beast in Him was unleashed, to prepare for His passionate onslaught.

He pulled away the washcloth, and replaced it with the blindfold. Her mascara was smudged, hair disheveled, lips bare of paint. There were times when the ‘tired, used whore’ look appealed. He pulled her head backwards with the ties of the blindfold, bowing her back, and kissed her open mouth. His tongue dove deeply into her, tasting her. She remained quiescent, but tonight, tonight he wanted a fight. Still grasping the ties, and a large hank of hair, he roughly shook her head.

“Fight!”  he growled into her mouth.

Pushing her hands against his chest was useless, and he continued to draw her closer to him. She stamped on his foot hard. Her bold move surprised him, and he dropped his hand from her hair, while lifting his abused foot and rubbing it. She pulled the bandanna from her eyes, threw it at him as she turned and ran out the door.

The chase was on. He gave her mere moments before he began to hunt. His cock began to grow and thicken in his pants. She had been nearly silent going down the stairs, but a faint crash from the kitchen and a muffled “dammit” sent him in the right direction.

As he entered the kitchen, he saw the back door swinging gently. Had she been bold enough to go outside and hide in the backyard? It was dusky out, and their property was private, but she never went out naked unless he ordered it. Or was the door a trick. He paused, listening.  Silence. He could hear the faint ticking of the dining room clock, feel the increased pulses of his cock, which had surged to life. She was a crafty slut, he knew, but he…he was a hunter. Moving to the dining room doorway, he took a slow, deep breath. Nothing. Moving back to the back door, he took another deep slow breath. Aaahhh. The sweet smell of his toy. His smile was feral.  He retreated from the door, closing it.  He made his way back through the house, stopping to grab a few items from the play drawer in the living room, and slipped silently out the front door.

She hid behind the large maple tree, catching her breath. Leave it to him to want to play hunter once she was naked. Already mosquito’s from as far away as Atlanta got the signal that fresh meat was outside and ready for tasting. Swatting one, she froze. He would hear that. Drat the man!  Her head rose as she heard the back door shut. She laughed silently! He’d fallen for it! Thought that the back door opened was a trick because he knew how much she hated being outside, naked.  Oh, he insisted from time to time, but still she hated it. Breath easing, she slipped from her hiding place and scanned the yard. Clumps of bushes created walkways and hiding spots galore. Could she make it to her special nook? She didn’t think he knew about it…but then again He was the Man…Looking around the darkening yard, she slipped behind the nearest shrub and, crouching low, began to scuttle around and through the undergrowth.

Occasionally she thought she heard…something. Good God! Don’t let there be any sort of animal out here. The last thing she needed was an encounter with a skunk!  She slipped, finally into her haven, and turned to watch the back of the house. She giggled a bit to think of him, searching high and low for her in there.

“Something funny, slutgirl?” came the mild voice behind her. She screeched and tried to dart to the left, only to find herself wrapped in steely arms. Kicking and yelling, he bore her to the ground, biting hard at her shoulder to quell her. She moaned, then sagged softly against him.

He pulled her hands behind her, and handcuffed her. She fought a bit when she felt the first circlet on her wrist, but with Him sitting on her ass, she had no leverage. Rising, he pulled her to her feet. He gently dusted her tits, her belly, and paid special care to cleaning her pussy. Over and over he rubbed along the cleft of her lower lips. Another, lower and deeper moan came from her as she rocked back and forth against his hand. His finger grazed her clit and she gasped and tried to push harder.

“No, no, greedy little slut” he admonished her, “you’ve been a very bad little girl. Now I have to take you in for questioning.” He teased her nipples to hardness, pulling and tweaking them. Finally, he put his mouth on first one succulent morsel, then the other. Wet nipples and night air were a brilliant combination, and they rose to stellar heights. Flicking each nubbin, he pulled the clamps out of his pocket. Fastened them securely. Ignoring her moans, he pulled on them to be sure of their tightness. After securing a chain to the clamps, he began pulling her towards the house by it. Cock throbbing hard in his jeans, he felt a thrill deep inside of him. His toy. His painslut. The anticipation was sublime.

Interrogation was so much fun.

FFF the Corset 75 words.

She’d just bought this new corset last week, found at one of those second-hand stores that had become so popular recently. Soft old cotton, juxtaposed with the hard stays that boosted her tits up to penthouse standards.

He used a new whip which shredded her corset rather quickly. 

“What a delicious package to unwrap!”, He had exclaimed. 

 As He revealed each luscious inch of flesh his smile grew wider. What a Merry Christmas it was!

Again, Sir?

He was going to die. He knew it. He’d heard that if a man couldn’t ejaculate after a while, his pulse rate would pick up and he could have a heart attack. Chained here to this damned chair, cock hard and ringed, he watched the purple head pulsing.  Anything to look at but his wife, his Mistress. She was spread eagled on the bed, firmly tied to the four posts. Her new Sir was calmly walking around the bed and slapping at her with a short riding crop. Her crop. The one She used on him. Her husband. And slave.

He couldn’t look away. Each blow on his gorgeous Mistresses tits, each red and swollen welt caused a reaction in his own cock. Twitch, pulse, ache. The throbbing between his legs thrummed in pace with his wildly thrumming heartbeat. To see his strong Woman laid out like a banquet, hear the sounds of the crop against her flesh, the moans she let out, the pink flesh. She was being used as His toy, this new Sir taking full command of them both, and yet, it did not diminish Her power over him, not in the least. If anything, watching her submit to this new Sir added a dimension to his subservience to her. He thought She took her beating far better than he did when she cropped him!  She did not beg for release, or for Sir to stop. In fact, he saw the gleam of  wetness between her thighs as she arched up after a particularly hard blow. Her nipples were enormous, engorged and swollen, thrusting upwards towards Sir’s lashing blows.

Laying the crop aside, Sir began to rub her abused flesh. She was welted, sweating, and about as horny as she had ever been. The deep throbbing between her legs as she gave up control to this Sir was even more intense now that he’d beaten her. To see her slave watching, nearly drooling added even more to her feeling of subservience to this Sir.  As He grasped her swollen, aching nipples, and rolled them between His fingers, pinching hard, then even harder, she began to pant, and beg. She knew she would cum if He continued to manipulate her thus.

“Hot little slut,aren’t you?” He smiled down at her, continuing to torment her tits and their swollen tips. “Will you cum if I continue?” He asked.

She  nodded rapidly, panting. He began to pull her nipples as he twisted them, adding a deeper level of pain and excitement to her flesh.

“I’ll think about it.” He said.

He began twisting and pulling her nipples harder. The pain was terrible, but the answering throb between her legs was divine. She could feel it building, and building…and  then He stopped.  He released her nipples, and slapped each tit hard, once.

She opened her eyes, need shining brightly, and begged.

“please, Sir, oh please Sir….will You let me cum? Please, please Sir, i am so very close…”

He turned away. On the side table where He had laid out His toys, he selected a pair of clamps, attached to a very short chain. Her eyes widened. She had never worn clamps before and her nipples were already on fire…she screamed a short scream as he attached the first one. He stopped, looked down at her.

“The other will hurt much more, slut. The chain is short and will pull your delicious tits close together. This will be your challenge today. Let us see how long you can stand this. This will show me how willing you are to relinquish your role as Mistress when I am here to play with you.”

Her eyes were glazing over with the effort of controlling herself. And yet, she knew He was gaining much pleasure from her pain. He was, after all, a sadist. And she was testing her boundaries as a pain slut. Oh, was she ever being teste….”ooooohhhhh”. The deep, gutteral groan broke from her mouth unbidden, her back arched as she tried to take some pressure, somehow, from her tits. He had pushed them together, and fastened the second clamp tightly on her nipple. Now they were touching, the inner slopes of her breasts, held snug by the shortness of the chain between the clamps. The grip of the rubber on the clamps was hot fire. She could feel the pain burning through her tits, and down into her clit, accompanied by a gush of pussy juice. She felt Him probing her, assessing her.

She felt the brush of fabric against her face as He blindfolded her.

“The fear of the unknown is a basic, primal fear,” He began, “and harnessing it this way will intensify our experiences together.”  Picking up a flogger, he began lashing at her body with it. She jolted at the unexpected slaps of pain…her cunt, her tit, her belly, her thigh, there was no rhyme or rhythm to His pattern. She tried to brace for each blow, but never knew where it would fall next. As her body began to shake He increased His pace, and her first orgasm shattered through her as He laid a hard blow across her cunt once more. He dropped the flogger on the table, and inserted His fingers into her, quickly ramping her up again, as He quickly finger-fucked her to another aching orgasm. He didn’t stop thrusting, feeling her cunt clenching down on His invading fingers made His own cock rise and throb, and judging by the engorged head on the slaves cock, he was enjoying the show as well. He fucked his fingers in and out of this willing slut, bringing her to yet another orgasm. His fingers and fist were coated in her juices. Sir smiled. What a pair!

Rising from the bed, he strode over to the slave.

“Enjoying yourself, you bitch? Open  your fucking mouth!” As the helpless slave obeyed, Sir put his wet fingers into his mouth. Slave began licking them clean.  Sir pulled his fingers away, and unzipped his pants. He pulled His cock free. Grabbing the slave by his hair, He pulled him forward and down towards the rampant cock dancing in front of his face.

“Kiss it, then suck the head good. Like you did downstairs.” The order was curt, the pull on his hair, painful. He obeyed.  His humiliation was complete when the Sir began to pull on his cock.

“Horny slave, aren’t you?” A rapid, hard slap to his cock made him moan around Sir’s cock, lodged in his own cheek.  Another slap, another moan. Finally, Sir pulled His cock out of his mouth, and with a last hard pull on slaves cock, strode over to the bed.

Watching Sir fuck his Mistress was humbling. Humiliation was often a hard pill to swallow, despite the thrilling desire that ran through him. Watching Sir’s ass clench and buck over his wife’s moaning and writhing form, watching her beg for release, a release he provided Her whenever She ordered him….they were both slaves now. Slaves to a passion controlled by a Sir. The perfect Sir for them both.

he heard Her screaming orgasm, the ululations nearly deafening him. Her keening cry died off as she slid into unconsciousness. Sir rose from between her legs, cock gleaming with her juices, still hard. He had not cum yet. Walking over to the slave, He put the glistening cock into the slaves open and waiting mouth. Without a word being exchanged, the slave cleaned the cock carefully, loving the taste of his Mistress coating the hot pulsing rod in his mouth.

Sir released slave from the chair. Pulled him by the hair to the bed. Released the just-rousing woman and turned her to her side.

“Her ass is mine,” stated Sir, “but you need to clean that cunt up…she’s a mess.”

As he dove into his chore,  felt Sir begin to work his cock into Mistresses ass, accompanied by her moans, he reflected for just a moment on how their lives had taken a such a dramatic change….for the better. As his face became coated in her delicious juices, the balls of Sir banging into his chin  every so often he realized that he’d never been more satisfied.

The Present

“There” He said, tightening the last of the buckles, “that ought to hold you for awhile, fuckslut”. He lifted her chin with His strong hand, looked calmly into her pouting face. 
“I’ll be out for awhile. I expect you will be curious, but no answers just now subgirl,  just….anticipation.”  He grinned His wicked grin at her. She simply melted inside when He did that. 
 
“When I come home, I’ll expect you to be silent. To insure that silence, my little fuckgirl,”
 
He reached for an item on the table beside her. She nearly groaned aloud, but restrained herself. No sense in it anyway, as He would do as He chose to. He cupped her chin again. Held up the clamps and chain. Enjoyed  her widening blue eyes as He fastened the clamp on one nipple, then the other. Her wince was priceless to him. Once more forcing eye contact with her, He added the weights. He watched those cerulean eyes mist with unshed tears. She was always afraid of displeasing Him, and He always continued to challenge her.
 
She looked at him, worried. She hated the weights. Her eyes begged what her mouth would not say: “Oh, please Sir…. not so many..hardly bear it…”
 
“Open that talented  mouth of yours, ‘lil girl.” She stared at Him, knowing what would happen next. She was right. As her juicy red lips opened, He placed the weighted chains in her mouth. If she talked, they could tumble out and the pain on her already sore nipples would be monumental.
 
Secured to the chair in the corner of their bedroom, she could not move. Her legs were fastened tightly together, bound at ankle, knee and thigh. Her arms were tied to the chair arms. Her waist was secured to the back. She sat, erect, tormented. Needy. His slut needed a good fucking. Her lips pursed around the hated chains, she gave him the coy eyes He loved, begging Him for His cock.
 
He looked down at her, His captured whore.  Smiled.  She thought this game  was nearly over. He knew it had barely begun. As He turned to go, He stopped, turned back to her.
She knew this was when the fun would start!  He wasn’t really going to leave her like this!
 
“One last thing, lil girl. Wouldn’t want my little fucktoy to not be ready for me when I return!”  So saying, He pulled the egg vibrator  from His pocket, and pushing it  hard between her secured thighs, He slipped it into her already juicy cunt.  She shifted in the chair as He probed between her legs, and gave a low mewling sound. He pulled His fingers from her, then wiped her wetness across her face and on her gorgeous red hair.  With a click, He turned it on low. Set the remote on the table where she could see it, but not touch it. It would keep her  at the edge of her need.  Which is just where He wanted her…His needy, wanting  slut!  He brushed His hand down her tousled red head, and left.
***                                           ***                                        ***
They met at a small coffee shop just a few blocks from his home.  He slid into the chair across from her, looked at her, assessing. She gazed at him a moment, but the compelling look in his eye made her avert her gaze.  He was so intense!  She shivered, hoped he didn’t notice.  He took her hand.
“Scared, lil one?” he asked softly.
She nodded, her long red locks tossing about her face, masking her expression. He leaned forward, brushed the hair away, tucking it behind her ears. The intimate gesture surprised her, calmed her.
“I’m glad you decided to take a chance with me. You know you’ll be safe, right? ” At her nod, he continued. “You left your number with a friend so you can call if you feel…it’s not working?” She nodded again, eyes on the table in front of her, as she toyed with the tag on her teabag with her free hand. Her captured hand lay quiescent in his palm, as  his thumb carressed the back of it, further calming and soothing her.
Her nerves were appealing. He could tell she had not made this decision lightly. A vanilla woman, she had no experience in the ways of the D/s community, despite her vivid stories to the contrary. She was truly innocent. A rare find in this day and age.
He put some pressure on her hand, causing her to look up, wary.
“It’s decision time,” He said. “Come with me now, or choose to leave. Once you come with me, your choice ends, and you become mine. Fully, completely. I will possess your body in ways that you have only dreamed about, lil swirly one.”  A fast smile crossed her face, before nerves once again shivered behind her eyes.  She stood. Grasped his hand firmly in her small one.  He led her home.
***                                ***                                   ***                                           ***
She sat in the chair. She could not move and it was frankly, driving her nuts. The egg  He had buried in her cunt was causing  a constant shivering of want, the faint vibration as annoying as a mosquito on a deep summer night. The throbbing of her cunt matched her heartbeat, and she felt the liquid of her arousal seeping from her, and gathering in the chair under her ass. She shifted a bit. Oh! She could feel the egg move a bit. She needed to cum so badly! With her legs pulled together, she could not wiggle at all down there, nor get any pressure on her clit. While he’d not forbidden her to cum, he sure had made it virtually impossible for her to get off.  Bastard! She mumbled around the chains still held tightly in her mouth. Having them in there was causing her mouth to water,  she for sure did not want to swallow …and a steady stream of drool was leaking from her lips. At least her hair wasn’t quite long enough to be drooled on, but the constant teasing touch of her shoulder length locks on her already over-stimulated body was adding to the fuel of the fire burning inside of her. The hunger built, even as the pain in her nipples tore at her spirit. She was so awash in her body and it’s miriad of sensations, that she did not hear the door open downstairs. The first inkling she had that he was home was his voice as he came up the stairs.
“Okay, lil swirl,” she heard him say, “careful now.”
What?  He’d never called her lil swirl before. Fucktoy, fuckgirl, fuckslut, subgirl and even His whore,  yes, but swirl?!?   Careful?   of what?
He led His lil swirl upstairs. She was blindfolded, something He had done as soon as they had entered the house. Just inside the door, He had stopped her, taken her vision away, and stripped her. He removed her blouse first, a white button down confection that screamed Vanilla to his continuing delight.  Next to be removed  was  her long tan skirt. He felt her shiver as he unzipped the back of it, slowly, letting His thumb rasp ahead of the zipper pull. He knew the sensation would travel down her ass crack, that  slight vibration, and increase the vulnerable feelings of being undressed by a virtual stranger. Last to go were  her sensible shoes and socks. Clad only in a white cotton bra, matching briefs, and barefoot, he bundled her hair into a coarse ponytail, and pulled her  up the stairs to his room.
His heart raced. He’d fantasized about this scene for weeks. All the time He’d courted the lovely, mysterious woman with the amazing and creative sexy imagination.  How His fuckslut would be bound, able to watch but not participate, as He fucked another in front of her. How the inexperienced submissive He was with would not know that she was being fucked in front of another. That this  lil swirl so closely resembled his whore was, he thought, karma. Both had red hair, blue eyes. They were just about the same age, He judged. But where His fuckgirl was toned, thanks in part to years of hot yoga, lil swirl was softer, rounder. Both were desirable to Him. It was so little about their bodies, and so much more about the mindfuck  He could serve to them both.
When he saw his fucktoy’s eyes widen with shock, His cock shot to instant hardness. He felt the need in Him build. He led his lil swirl to the bed, and with shocking force, tore her panties from her. She moaned, swayed. He slipped His fingers down to find wetness in her folds.
“Liked that, did you lil swirl?” he said softly against her ear. She nodded. He could see the blush slip from her cheeks to her chest. He traced a finger down the rosey-hued flesh to her bra.  A front hook version…how convenient, he mused, smiling.  He unhooked her bra, pulling it off her roughly, slapping each tit as he unveiled it. Her moan was louder now, born of pain and desire.
Oh Ho! He was surprised, nearly shocked, to discover His lil swirl had pierced nipples! He grasped each silver ring and tugged. She leaned into His pull, but he pushed her back to her place in front of him. He pulled her down, down to her knees. Releasing His hold on her rings, He grasped her chin, slapping Her cheek firmly.
“Open that fucking mouth,” He commanded, and when she complied, He pushed His hard cock into her facehole. He heard her draw a gurgling breath as He pushed deeper into her virgin mouth. “Tongue” He commanded again. 
In the corner, his fuckdoll felt tears gather in her eyes. How could He? He was teaching that other bitch to give Him a blowjob, when she had skills that He had spent 5 years honing for him? She was angry, boiling mad. If she dared, she would have spit out the chains and screamed at Him…for all the good that ever did. She tried to remember that He was the Dom and she was the subgirl…and He did nothing without a reason. She drew in a deep breath. Remembered her Yoga breathing. Calmed a bit. She ignored the tear that trickled slowly from stormy blue eye to chin.
He didn’t want to blow in her mouth. Not this time. Pulling His engorged cock from her mouth, ignoring her runny nose, and gasping cough, He roughly grabbed her nipple rings and forced her to rise again.
“Stand” He commanded, and began to pull the rings. Further and further they pulled, until her ample tits coned. Her deep moans were balm to Him. He knew He could rouse this vanilla, this swirl, as he had named her, to explore deeper and deeper routes to slutdom.  Releasing her nipple rings sharply, He pushed her hard, so that she fell backwards onto the bed. He grasped her legs, lifting them, and slid His mouth from knee to her sopping wet center. He was amused that her inner thighs were coated with her juices. Amused, and He admitted, aroused as hell.
She was torn between the humiliation of watching him eat out the other woman…another redhead, damn him!  and jealousy. She loved having His mouth on her cunt!  Damn Him. Damn her, whoever she was, the fucking slut. She was enough alike in looks to her that they could be sisters. Obviously not experienced…aaahhh…it came to her in a rush of sudden clarity. He’d always wanted to train a newcomer to the lifestyle. But to do so in front of her?!  Bastard! She glared at him, and at that exact moment, He lifted His face from between swirls legs, His face glistening with her wetness, her mewls of delight filling the room, and looked at His fucktoy. A slow, sinister smile crossed His face as He caught her gaze. Held it. She couldn’t look away. She couldn’t continue to look at Him. It was hell. It was heaven. She was humilated. She was soaked.
*****
The woman beneath him bucked and moaned as He fucked her. He rode her hard, in part from  the desire she’d built in Him with her wicked stories, and in part because His whore was helplessly watching. As He came, He encouraged His swirl to another orgasm. Panting, He lay upon her sprawled body. Her arms and legs captured by leather laces on the bed, He knew she was going crazy with desire, despite her orgasm.
He put his head against her ear, whispered softly.
“Lil swirl, that was just the opening salvo. The best is yet to come.” He kissed her, fiercely. Reaching across to the nightstand, He withdrew a long, red satin bow. He tied it around swirls throat. Then rose from the bed, and went to release His fuckslut.
“Time to unwrap your  next present, subgirl,”  He said as He began to free her from her torment.
It was one hell of a birthday party.