Slut on Call (5)

When she woke, sunlight was stealing around the edges of the blinds, illuminating a strange bedroom. Where the hell was she? The darkness played strange memories through her mind. Such weird dreams…

She half-sat, before realizing that her left wrist was decorated with a silver handcuff. The chain ran up and around the massive post that formed the corner of a very unusual headboard. A series of bolts and rings were placed in the wood. They looked–she swallowed hard–very strong.

“Good morning my slut.”

She jolted, as the rush of memory flooded her. His wicked mouth on her breast, those gleaming teeth biting into her nipple. Her free hand touched that abused nipple as she glanced down. There were several moments last night that she feared–well, it was  still there. But there was a faint blue haze over the hardening nub.

“You bruised me.”

“I should hope so. I used you hard, just as I promised.”

He moved to the bed, stroking the wild hair that stuck up like she’d been in a tornado. In a way, she had been. Thumbing the key from  his jeans, he released her.

“Go pee.”

She blushed at his frankness, but scurried to the bathroom.  Though she closed the door, it opened just as she sat and began to release her stream.

“HEY!” she yelped.

“I’ve seen every inch of you. I don’t mind watching you take a piss. In fact–open your legs. Wider. Wider. You know what they say? The couple that pisses together….”

Her mouth almost hung open as he unzipped and pulled his cock from his pants. She had no answer to his stupid riddle. He wouldn’t…and yet he did. He aimed his piss for her pussy, not the toilet. The hot, hard splash of his urine on her tender bits made her gasp. Her embarrassment had been cut away by shock.

She was becoming aroused. His pee was hot, and hit her clit. The sensation was strange. Embarrassing as it had been to have him watch her pee, it had no comparison to her real life.

“Look at me as I piss on your pussy.”

His voice compelled her. She didn’t want to. It was too–humiliating. Too raw. Her eyes rose from his knees to his eyes.

“Good girl.”

His look was fierce. Like a warrior-king, she supposed, winning the war and conquering her.

“Tell me how that feels?”

Thankfully his stream was weaker, a few last spurts.  How could she bring words to describe this? How could he expect her to answer that sort of question? Yet she had learned one thing overnight–he wouldn’t tolerate her not doing something he asked of her.

“It…”

“It? What it?”

The blush suffused her cheeks. Geezuz.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“So you’ve said before. Continue.”

“Your — pee–”

“Piss. Say piss.”

Her eyes, staring up at him, grew mutinous. Enough of this stupid game! Her lips fused and she shook her head no. He stepped closer, closer, until he straddled her leg. He cupped her chin, staring deeply into her eyes.

“I understand. This is uncomfortable for you. I enjoy that. I enjoy the struggle.”

His stiff cock pressed near her throat, mute evidence that her ‘struggle’ as he termed it, excited him.

“You’re….perverted.”

“We all are, darlin’. We all are. And you, sweet new slut, enjoyed every moment of it.”

Without further ado, he tugged her up from the toilet. Her gasp made his cock twitch, as he quickly twirled her, pressing her into the sink, and sliding his cock into her dripping cunt from behind. He fucked her then.

Hard, bruising strokes, as his fingers bit into her hips.

“Tell me, slut, while I fuck your slick pussy, that you weren’t turned on when I pissed on you.  Tell me and I’ll stop.”

Oh.

Oh!

OH!

Her hips and belly banged into the vanity, her forehead rapping against the faucet handle. Her hands grabbed the edge of the cabinet to prevent herself from being hammered into the wall. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, until her mouth opened in a long ooooohhh of pure animal pleasure.

No….

…she did not want him to stop.

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Slut on Call (5)

  1. SouthernSir says:

    Sometimes you just have to give into that dark side.

  2. Kayla Lords says:

    The darkness is such a turn on sometimes…I don’t know that I could live there, but I sometimes think I’d like to visit…

    • vanillamom says:

      🙂 i know…it’s a dichotomy to be sure…do we want to just take a speedy visit to that dark and quiet street? or just sit in the gallery, leaning forward so as not to miss a bit of the play…?

      nilla

  3. Wordwytch says:

    The dark bits let us know that we can be safe to look that direction. Good story.

  4. WC says:

    Nilla

    Thanks for you kind support over at Mick’s blog

    Left a shout out for you

    Please re-support me against that heartless villain Mick Collins!!!

    Love you Nilla

    The

    WC

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s