Newbie (fini)

part two is here –(and part one is referenced there in case you missed a chapter). I’m pretty happy to finish *this* before starting my next piece. So very “un-nilla”, right?  😀  ~n~

Her lips were stretched uncomfortably wide, her mouth a round “0”.  It wasn’t a perfect O, really,  as it was formed to the shaped of the cock that was sliding towards the back of her throat. She tried thinking about what her lips would really look like,  flexing around the moving shaft. Dang but she couldn’t seem to shut her brain off, even now.  She gagged, feeling her stomach threaten to rise. Somehow that seemed to shut her brain right off.  Well, that and his next words.

“Newbie has a quick gag reflex. We’ll work on that…”

It should have felt…ominous. Instead it felt…right.

“Relax your throat…I’m going all the way in.”

‘right,’ she thought, with the clarity of her ever-overactive brain. ‘relax. yup. that was gonna be possible with the thick pole in her mouth.’ And then she felt the press of male pubic hair tickling her nose. It made her want to sneeze. She struggled, trying to toss her head, but he only moaned in pleasure. She tried yelling but her stomach seemed to feel like it was coming up again. Just when she thought she’d pass out,or gawds forbid, puke all over him,  he pulled out.

“good hot mouth. mmmm” He followed that last sound of pleasure by wiping the slick wetness from the head of his shaft along her cheek.

Those sounds of pleasure from the owner of the hairy crotch above her face gave her pause. She caused that. She was giving pleasure. Sure, she was fucking uncomfortable. Sure her shoulders ached from being spread and tied. Certainly her pussy was screaming from the ongoing buzz. Her nipples throbbed in a way she could never mimic on her own. It was terrifying.

It was exhilarating.

The cock returned to her mouth, teasing her throat.

“Suck. Suck it hard!”

It wasn’t gentle, but rough. A taking of a slut hole, she thought. The shiver that ran through her was one of perverted pleasure. She was a fucktoy. Not a person, not a senior accountant, not a good neighbor, not anything ‘vanilla’…she was fuckmeat.

The wave of orgasm shuddered through her, part Hitachi, part her own mental pleasure.

The cock slid from her lips with a pop. She was reluctant to let go.

The bed creaked as he moved away, as others moved away.

“You all may go. Your assistance has been appreciated.”

There was a sound of feet moving quietly, a few hushed ‘yes Sir,” and “thank you Sir”‘s then the sound of the door closing. She strained to hear who was left. Was it just him? He of the lovely thick cock. A hand stroked down her chest.

“Let’s take these off now, newbie.”

Fingers worked at the clamps on her nipples, tugging them off quickly. The slap of pain was wildly intense, far more so than when they had been applied.

“Right. They hurt more coming off.”

She heard the laughter in his voice. Bastard.

“That I am, newbie. That I am.”

She blushed, surprised that she’d actually spoken that aloud, but the ache in her tits had been quite unexpected. The pain lingered.  His hand caressed her pussy.

“You’re wet. And ready. As am I.”

There was the sound that she knew was the opening of a condom, and the faint sounds of latex being rolled onto his shaft. Dang if she could only see!  He came close, stroking and pinching her body. She whimpered, yelped, moaned.

“Pleasure and pain, newbie, a heady combination. One which we will enjoy fully together.”

He did mean full, too, damn her hyperactive brain, as he slowly impaled her. Her cunt clamped down around him like it was ready to jump up and shout “hallelujah” as he moved fully into her. One hard hip thrust finished his entry; his balls  lay against her, just against that sensual place where her buttocks began to separate. She moaned. She had never been this full before. Not with past lovers, nor certainly not with silicone cocks. Three fingers pressed into her mouth.

“Suck on these while I fuck you, slut. Consider it practice for later. You’ll have to clean my cock once I’m done.”

She wondered, damn her brain again, if that would be sans condom and wondered how she’d handle that. Then remembered that she didn’t have to worry about that as He would be the one doing the ‘handling’ of the situation. There was great comfort in that. She realized that she really wasn’t a newbie anymore, but had begun the transition to being a submissive, rather than merely dreaming of it.

As he continued to move over and on and in her, she let herself fall, mentally, into another space.

Sub space.

 

 

A Guest Redux?

Remember back in the “some time in the past” when Master had a guest Dom visit with us?  There’s a post somewhen about it, with pics of me giving him a blowjob, and later, being fucked silly by him. Sir P, I think I referenced him as.

Saturday night Master mentioned him. Sir P, I mean. We were talking a bit about the submissive that is coming to our playtime. I asked a few questions, He dodged them. Well, he did tell me that I can’t talk to her. 🙂 He did mention that He’s known her for a long time, anyway. . . and then there was that little comment.

“Oh nilla, by the way….”

Master let drop that Sir P has been invited to our playday.

I’ll let that thought hang with you a moment…I wonder if your mouth is hanging open like mine was on Saturday night when Master informed me that Sir P might put in an appearance. It’s contingent upon his schedule, but as I understand it, he is eager to see me again.

That’s  a thrill that also creates more of those silly nerves that dance up and down my submissive spine. It was so intense. And good. Now, I don’t spend tons of time going back over it in my head…some of it was lost to subspace, but really I don’t dwell on these other encounters.   I spend time thinking of my Master,  hoping that I have served Him, and His purpose in loaning me out, to the best of my ability as His submissive slut.

I guess I kind of think of it like …a job.

That’s unsexy sounding…but it is a job, isn’t it? He asks me to perform a service, and I provide that service. My “payment” is my Master’s pleasure in having me complete the task well.

Heh. Job well done, as it were.

And hell, it’s exciting as hell to be a sex object. To be objectified, and used. To be fucked and to suck another, to be a good little cock whore? It’s all wicked. And exciting. And a turn-on. He is there, Master, watching all. A voyeuristic pleasure for Him, and the pleasure of His control of the dynamics that are unfolding.

But I don’t think about it all the time. Don’t think about it in any way shape or form the way I do about Master. I hope I did good. It was a wild experience. I know it could (and likely will) occur again some day, but I don’t focus on that. Maybe because I was objectified. I was blindfolded, and focused on the actions of service. There is no “connection” between the Guest Dom and I other than the fact that I was there to be used.

Am I weird for not thinking about it a lot? I haven’t fretted about it, haven’t lusted for it, haven’t not wanted it again. It just is something that happened. *shrugs* I’m very blaise about the memories of it. Like I say…it was a fantasy to live out, but it doesn’t change, diminish, or increase my affections for my Master.

Then again, perhaps I’m just wired verrrry differently.

I know there are some of you who say ‘I could never do that, be whored out for another”…and if that works for you, that’s fine. This is a judgement free zone here in nilla land…it is a kink of mine to be treated like a sex toy…and Master brought that to fruition for me…and for His pleasure too.

The only repercussion from that event was *my* worry that Master would feel upset about another using me after He thought about it. I guess that He wouldn’t want me, or would have bad, jealous feelings about it. That was my fret, and as it turned out, a pointless one. He got what He wanted from the event, and is willing to make it happen again.

It is, so it’s said, what it is.

I’m here to serve. And, apparently, to suck cock.

And let’s not forget about that mystery pussy…but then, that’s a tale for another day.

😉

Dark Storms

Fuck!

Madeline tugged her hood back over her head, even as the wind fought to toss it away again. She tried holding the front partially closed with one hand, but the wind-maddened rain ran down inside her sleeve, soaking her to the elbow. Fucking grand.

Her coworkers had warned her, each stopping by her office on their way out into the dark and stormy night. Like some novel of old, she’d thought to herself wryly, as each one uttered words of dread.

“It’s realllly coming down out there, Maddie.”

“You shouldn’t stay here alone, you know the power could go out at any moment.”

“Maddie, come with us…there’s strength in numbers you know!” This from Cat, her best friend at work. She’d looked up from the computer at that one.

“Strength in numbers…from rain? Cat…really?”  and she’d laughed.

“Well, you know, it’s pouring out. And it’s windy as hell. And you have a long ride home. You could come home with me…”

“Right, and watch you and Evan coo and cuddle each other.”

Cat had smiled unrepentantly at her. “I could have his brother come over…?”

To which Maddie had shook her head vehemently. Michael was a piece of work. Too danged bossy. She’d only met him once, but that was enough. She’d shooed Cat out.

“Look, I’m almost done. If you all will stop bugging me, I’ll be out of here in 20 minutes. Tops.”

Two hours and 20 minutes later, with the storm howling up a gale outside, and rattling her windows, the lights had blinked, then gone out. She’d gotten two worried texts from Cat, the last one just before she left. She’d texted back “going, worry wort, sheesh”, and closed down her computer. Deciding that the better part of valor was traveling light, she left everything except her purse in her desk, and headed down the stairs.

In the lobby, she stopped for a minute, catching her breath. Phew! She’d gotten way too spoiled using the elevator. The rain pelted the front windows, sounding like beebee pellets.

“Not a good night out there, Miss.”

“No, Charlie, not at all. Have a good night.” With a backward wave, she’d stepped out into the fray.

No one else braved the streets, and she wished she’d had the forethought to call for a taxi. The odds of catching one now were slim.  To maybe, none. Turning, she headed uptown. Within two steps, she had puddles in her shoes, and began muttering “fuck” every other step. Her toes curled, her heels rubbed, her elbow was dripping, and a wild gust of wind threw itself at her like an enraged harpie. Her hood whipped off her head, her neat bun was torn to shreds, her long hair blowing and blinding her. It was all she could do to stand upright. Grabbing for the nearest light pole she held on for dear life.

“You fucking idiot!” Arms came around her and supported her. She knew that voice…it was unforgettable. “What the fuck posessed you to go out walking in this?”

She looked up, rain streaming down onto her face, nearly blinding her.

“I don’t need your help, you know,” she shouted up at Michael Cox. He looked down at her, scowling as dark as the weather. He tugged her off the pole and all but stuffed her into his burly SUV. It was parked just behind the pole she had been anchored to; she’d never even heard him drive up behind her.

******************

His door slammed shut. She cast a sidelong look at him, through dripping tendrils of hair. The shiver caught her by surprise, shaking drops of water onto her hands, which were clenched in her lap. Quickly she unclenched them. No point in letting him know he was getting to her already.

He sat and looked at her a moment, before he started the engine, and moved the purring beast out into the storm. Wind still threw buckets of water at them, but was unable to break into the dry and warm interior. Vainly she tried to finger comb her tangled hair into some semblance of order.

“You look like a drowned rat.”

She gritted her teeth, then decided to fight fire with simpering simpleton, which she knew would grate on his nerves.

“You always say the sweetest things,” she purred. Fuck him! Rather than glaring at him, she gave him a saccharine-sweet smile, one that slid away as she turned and looked out her side window. Better to look at the storm than him, the handsome devil. She tried to not recall the rain-slicked dark hair, the full lips that were curved into a faint sneer. Nor would she remember the feel of the strong hands that had muscled her in here, the same ones that were gripping the wheel expertly, guiding them safely through the storm. She remembered that he was special forces or something like that. Cock-sure bastard.

His brief laugh made her glance at him. Immediately she looked back at her hands. Damn, they were clenched in her lap again. He was too fucking handsome for his own good. And damned if he didn’t know it. Compressing her lips together tightly, she was determined to not say another word until he dropped her off at her apartment. Yet, peering out the window, she realized they were not going the right way. At least, she didn’t think so. It was hard to see much beyond the arc of the headlamps. The sheeting rain was silvered by the light. All else was lost in the gloomy darkness.

Seconds later, her guess was confirmed. A sharp right, and the sudden cessation of rain and wind made her blink in surprise. The silence was deafening after the cacophony of the raging weather. There were in a parking garage, lit only by his headlights. He pulled into an open space. A sign saying “Occupant only” was her first clue.

“Wait. Wait just a minute, bucco…”

His voice walked over the protest.

“I rescued you, but there is no way I’m putting us at risk by driving all the way to where Cat said you live. Deal with it. Or sleep in here. On second thought, you’re wet enough that you’d damage my seats. Grab your stuff and come with me.”

It sounded like an order. She wanted to balk, but that submissive streak she kept locked down in her deepest depths  responded to it. Responded to him. Unfortunately. She wanted to roll her eyes, to protest, to argue, even as she opened her door, and slid out of the SUV. Her feet hit the garage floor with an audible squish. Oh fuck. Her favorite pumps were ruined. She took a deep breath, and turned. He was right fucking there. In her face, in her space. ‘Challenge, much?,’ she thought to herself. Oh, he pushed her buttons. Made her mad as hell. That was it. Mad. She kept her eyes on the middle of his shirt. One that was soaked through and clung to his taut frame like a second skin.

“If you move I can…” Her words were cut off as his hand gripped her chin, as his lips came down and savaged hers. His tongue pierced her lips, slamming into her mouth, and tasting her. He stole her breath, her brains, even. She shivered again, as a gust of wind cut through the concrete garage, and drove up and under her skirt. He tugged her closer, the heat of him branding her as her chest pressed against his. He was hard, and hot and strong; she was soft, and wet, and lost.

As quickly as he had begun, it ended.

She stood there, almost panting, as he stepped away. He spoke, not of the kiss, that searing, branding of his mouth on hers, but instead, called for her to follow him. Like a dog. Like a servant. Like…a slave. Swallowing down the burst of savage lust that nearly boiled her blood, she took a step. And another.

He took her arm and led her up the steps to his apartment. The emergency lighting cast a green and eerie glow over his features. Yet she continued to move with him, caught in a spell woven so fast, so intensely, that she could do nothing else.

****************

There was a rattle of keys, the creak of a door, and his terse “wait here” as he let them into his dark apartment. She couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, but she heard him move away.  Yet in moments, a soft glow became a strong beam as he returned carrying a safety lantern. He took her by the arm and led her down a hallway. She caught ghostly outlines of artworks without any idea of what she was seeing. They could be Picasso’s, or cartoons, she couldn’t tell. Still affected by his kiss, she mutely trailed him, her fingers locked in his hand. He tugged her into a bathroom, setting the lamp on the back of the toilet. His hands went to work, pulling her skirt down over her hips until it plopped with a wet splooshy sound onto the floor. Those clever fingers unfastened her coat, then her blouse. The pile at her feet grew, until she was standing in bra and panties before him. Gooseflesh erupted along her wet skin, then suddenly a thick towel was draped around her. He rubbed her body vigorously, arms, legs, belly, back. Her bra fell to the pile, then her ruined hose and panties joined it. Tugging the towel around her tightly, moving her hand up to hold it closed,  he began to remove his own wet clothing.

Her lips tingled. Was it the remembered kiss, or the baring of his skin that was waking the need in her? This was a new feeling for her, the animal craving that made her blood boil. She felt like that storm outside, something raging and wild just under her skin.

Without thought, her hands rose to his buckle, as he tugged the sodden shirt out of his pants. Trembling a bit, whether at her temerity, or the chill, she released his belt, then the fasteners of his slacks. Her thumbs slid inside the waistband, and tugged off his pants and his boxers simultaneously. Lower they slid, over his slim hips. The towel fell away, leaving her as naked as he, and kneeling at his feet.  His hand moved to her head as he stepped one leg, then the other, free of the clinging fabric. His cock bounced, just at face height, and already thick and half-hardened. In the strange illumination from the camp lamp, his prick cast a massive shadow on the far wall. She tilted her head back, then rose up just a bit to lick the tip of it. His hand curled around her head, pulling her forward onto his shaft, as he sank into her mouth. She choked a bit, gagging for breath as his hand forced her onto him relentlessly.

He wasn’t going to ease up on her, she realized. She swallowed, taking him deeper into her mouth, relaxing into the moment, accepting that she had given the control to him. Her nipples tightened, the skin of her breasts growing taut as they hardened into little beads of lust. She moaned, deep in her throat, vibing along the head of his cock. He pulled out, then slid back in, fucking her mouth quickly.

He pulled away, his cock slick with saliva. One thread of precum attached them for a moment, a silver strand of sex juice that stretched from the head of his raging dick, to her swollen lower lip. And then he moved back, pulling her by her hair.

“Come.”

‘As if she had a choice,’ his fingers tangled tightly against her scalp, she thought.  Her pussy throbbed. How many fantasies had she had about this kind of dominance? She had known he’d be trouble. Deep in her pussy she had known that he could be just this way.

Pulling his hand free, he reached for her nipples. Despite the darkness, he found them immediately, pinching them between his fingers and rolling them this way and that. She gasped, would have fallen to her knees, if he hadn’t pushed her up against the bed.

“Ow!”

“Mmmmm”

“OH! Ow! Ow!”

“I notice you don’t say ‘stop’…” his voice was amused, dry. Popping one hand free of the torment on her tits, it coursed down her body, to cup her pussy. Those long fingers found the slit and followed it to the hot wet place between her legs. The other arm released her, then tugged her close, holding her with his arm around her neck. Her nose pressed into his chest, the mat of hair there tickling her nose.

Gods, he smelled divine. Hot, masculine sweat. A faint tendril of cologne applied hours ago. And rain. The temptation was too great; her tongue slipped out and began to lick. He was stirring a dark storm inside of her- the tempest outside was nothing in comparison to what was happening in here. His fingers probed deeper into her slit, her tongue slid hotly on his skin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” His voice was a low dark murmur against her head as the probing fingers found her weeping hole and began to tease. Groaning, she felt her hips sway to ancient rhythms, pulsing with the beat of her heart, and the pulsing of need. His cock pressed between them; the hard length of him was a promise in the dark. She swore she could feel him throb against her belly.

His hand fisted in her hair, pulling her backwards, and she fell onto his bed, feet still on the floor. His hands cascaded down her body like a waterfall, until they caught behind her knees and lifted. Her legs slid over his shoulders as the head of his cock bumped against her slickness, and without a second of hesitation, he banged into her.  Arching, she took him deep, her ankles crossing and pulling him closer. Hands on her hips biting deep as he tugged her down the bed, down onto his cock, her ass hanging in space. Withdrawing a bit, it took only a heartbeat for him to screw his cock into her cunt again. It was a rough brutal fucking, banging hard into her, his balls a slap on her ass with every beating stroke, her hands fisted in the comforter, her ass rising in invitation for him to come deeper, deeply into her belly. She welcomed the brutality, welcomed the animal mating, his hands bruising her hips, then rising to tug himself deeper into her fuckhole, by holding her tits like guide ropes. There in the darkness, storms raging inside and out, they came together, a fusion of need and power.

******************************

Sunlight sluiced across the floor, casting questing beams across the bottom of the bed. She stirred, feeling like she’d been run over by a bus. She tried to ignore the sun, burying herself under the heavy dark blanket. It wouldn’t budge. She came awake trying to figure out why her blanket was stuck, until she turned and remembered every fucking moment of last night.

He was looking at her with that smile on his face. The smug one. The annoying one.  Frowning, she pushed up on her elbows. She was not a morning person, not by a longshot.

“What’s so funny?” She tried hard not to glare. She settled for squinting. It was pretty damned sunny in here.

“You look like you just went through a hurricane.” He laughed, then ran a hand over the tangle of her hair.

“Hurricane Michael, so, yeah. I guess I did.” She gasped as the hand against her hair tugged. She moved up his body, fast, until she was plastered against him, and still he tugged on her hair. His lips slid over her throat, biting softly, making her gasp at the discomfort and the fast stab of lust.

“Lookout, it’s going to blow!” He murmured against her collarbone, before rolling her over and letting the storm carry them away.

 

**storms, even impending ones, do something primal to me…I wrote this in one (two-hour!) sitting, including edits…I guess the storm swirled through me and released this one! I don’t think I’ve ever written a story this long so quickly…it virtually wrote itself! ~n~**

Immobilized

Somewhen in the vast reaches of our time together, after multiple forced orgasms, after fucking, and biting, and beating…

He flips me over on my back. I grunt, I remember, because my shoulders were so sore from the beating, and the biting. My ass was throbbing dully, and my pussy, too, but to different beats. It was a discordant rhythm that my body was playing, all a blend of disharmony that somehow set up awesome harmonics within me.

He healed me, by beating me.

By fucking me.

By using me hard, and heavy.

Then He tugs me, on my back, across the bed, heedless of my small moanings. Tugged like I was a rag-doll…and you all know I’m no lightweight. My head flops off the bed; I feel the heat of his thighs on either side of me, the roughness of hairy legs. The push of His cock on my face, my lips.

He reaches down and takes my cuffed hands, and hooks them together behind His back.  Reaching down, He slapped my inner thigh until my legs opened, aiding in my balance.

He is wordless.

I am blindfolded.

He makes me figure out what He wants, by slapping my pussy. I lick His balls, laving them, lapping at them, making Him moan. If I please Him, He stops slapping my pussy, and starts playing with my tortured clit. It is so sensitized by now, that even a gentle rubbing makes me cum.

I moan against His ballsack, mumbling “no…no…no…”

Cumming is sweet torture…and becomes simply torture.

He moves His hips, and immobilized as I am, I can do nothing to stop Him. Nothing to stop His cock entering my mouth (not that I don’t want it. I do, I do!)

But at the same time, His fingers slip inside me and begin fingerfucking me roughly. I squirt nearly instantly…I feel the wet explosion, as I mumble NO around a mouthful of  cock, trying to get my mouth clear of it so that I can protest. I do, yet, with the position He has put me into, when I open my mouth to say anything there are His balls. I’m effectively gagged between His legs, His cock, His balls, as He stands there, getting sucked off, and torturing my pussy.

I come again.

And again.

And again.

And, yes, again.

The number of orgasms is uncountable. All this in silence. He says nothing to me, just plays with me. Pulling my nipples, slapping my tits, pinching my belly. Fucking my pussy.

Fucking my pussy.

Fucking my pussy.

He doesn’t cum in my mouth. He reaches up, and I feel His hands unclasping my wrists, then He steps back, tugs me up upon the bed.

Does He cuddle with me? I think so.

Seriously? I don’t remember that part yet. It will come back to me, or He’ll tell me about it.

And by the way?

I loved every fucking minute of it! The loss of breath from time to time, the banging of my head with His legs, the taste of Him, the objectification of Him plucking away at my body, as He did whatever the fuck He wanted to…all of it was a HUGE turn on.

oh. Did I forget to mention the anal beads?

Next time, my pervies, next time.

 

Lust Dance

You’re reading. Maybe lifting your coffee or tea mug to your lips as you tune in to see what devious story nilla has spun today?

Ah, but today is not a devious story created by me, but for me.

Today, I am with my Master.

Not just tea at Starbucks, but behind-the-door with Him.  His fist in my hair, His body on mine, with my Master.  Absolutely Fucking- A-awesome! I’ll be flying high tonight, drunk on pain and sex. I’ll be weak and shaking-handed tomorrow, and likely unable to think coherently (unless I have time to pre-write for ya’ll…if not, I know you’ll understand my hazed condition!)

Master spends time the week before a meet…preparing me. Mind fucks abound. Teasing. Hints of torture. Little ….things He says. Things He does. Sexing me up with His words, and texts, only to leave me hanging…shaking with wanton desire. The rampant need to cum only surpassed by my unrelenting admiration for the pure deviousness of this Master of mine.

I’ll let you in on a behind the scenes, during the week scenario He spins for me.

You know I’m not allowed to orgasm on Thursday. (ZNN Day) Which  usually runs into late  Friday evening, until He either has phone sex with me and allows me to cum, or gives me permission to masturbate. This depends on his schedule, primarily. So, most weeks, no Orgasms for about 48-50 hours.

Thursday, I’m slogging through vanilla stuff. A mandatory meeting. Helping a friend out with a ride. Yada, yada. And some house renovation preparations.  He texts me.

BTW…might have a guest DOM cock for you to suck on Sunday.

That was it. Right there in the middle of  ZNN.  A commingled rush of lust and fear and nerves.

Later He says “no promises….” because He isn’t sure of this other D’s availability. But once more, that rush of lust and fear and …submission.  I’m so turned on. And I tell Him. And it’s torture, to be so turned on, and have it be ZNN.

He loves hearing that.

**************************

He’s ramped up the “torment” this week. Sunday night? I ask and receive permission for an O.  He says he’ll generously increase that. Coz my care is His responsibility. I get an O…and a half.

The half MUST be taken last.

Then no O on Monday, just that constant state of arousal.

On Tuesday He gives me two O’s. But since He really, really likes me on Tuesdays… He’ll bump that up to 2…and a half. The half to be taken …last.  Then ….He amends it further.

I get a choice!

(He says that in the same tone of voice that announces the WINNER!)

I  may take just one single O. No halfies at all. But only ONE orgasm.

Orrrrrrr…I can take two Orgasms…plus the half O, which must be taken at the end.

We chat. He tells me to take my hand off my nipple and listen up.  How He knew? I’ll never know. I don’t play with my nipples that much. I don’t.  Between that little “gotcha”…and the CHOICE….when He hangs up the phone, I can hear  the smug in His voice. So sure I’ll bite for the bigger number. So certain  that I’ll self-torture myself so that I get that extra Orgasm.

No. Won’t.

I’m not gonna. Nope. Not me.

I peg and clamp and…soon it’s apparent.  Oh hell.  I’m going to go for it. I HAVE to. …I know one O won’t be enough. I’ve been in a constant state of arousal for almost 49 hours. I’m desperate enough to take the sucker deal.

Whoa. The two O’s come smack dab back to back. I know there is another just laying under the surface….yet I have to jerk away at the last second, crying and moaning with my own need, and my bargain with the Devil.

Wednesday I’m given another O.

Yes.

And a half.

See the pattern here? He is making me nearly insensate with lust. You’d not believe the number of typo’s I’ve corrected in this, already. It’s amazing. It’s frustrating. He knows me so frikking well.

So, as sub-sis aisha says, I’ve been “holding the tension” all this week. Slipping and sliding down that slippery slope that is the lust I feel for this Man. Wet, throbbing, wanting…I am a wanton, craven whore. He doesn’t MAKE me that…I do it all on my own.

But He knows *exactly* which buttons to push, which knobs to turn, to ratchet me up to a level that is almost unbearable…then eases me back down…then sends me flying back up. It is the most excruciatingly amazing, exacting dance that we do.

And I have absolutely no doubt as to which of us is Leading.

Irate (2)

first part can be found here

She lay panting through her nose. Curling away from the driver of the moving van, she used the edge of her index finger to start prying the duct tape away from her mouth.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mz. Tucker.” The words carried a fair warning. How the fuck had he seen her? Peering around the interior of the van, she caught the flash of silver. A mirror. There were small mirrors on the interior. She whimpered.

Rage transformed to fear as the miles rolled away under the van tires. Her wrists hurt from the bindings, she was sweating, and she was hoping that somehow, someway, she could convince them to let her go.

For a short while the van had been stopped, but she could neither hear, nor see why. Yet, a few minutes later,  Will, who was driving her car, came to the window. She heard the rattle of paper, as he handed Boss  a bag. She smelled fries and a burger. She felt her tummy roll, the fast bite of nausea.  Yet, they both ignored her.

“Ready to roll?”

“Yup, I’m good. You need to pee? I can watch the van.”

Boss  declined, and turning the wheel, got underway again.

Unless she moved he paid her no mind; she preferred it that way, really.  The beginnings of a plan came to her. If she could shimmy down towards the back doors, perhaps she could use her foot to open one. Or failing that, be ready to jump out and run when the door did open. She toed off her high-heeled pumps, and stretched a bit. She saw the bastard glance back at her, then turn back to the front. Apparently she hadn’t alarmed him with her small movements.

Her stomach was growling; the morning coffee and stingy three bites of her croissant were but a distant memory, when she felt the rumble of road changing. They slowed, driving a bit further, before rolling to a slow stop. She sat up, head bowed as if in surrender.

The Bastard parked the van, pocketing the key. He came out and around the back. When the door opened, she kicked at him, slid out and ran…right into the arms of Will, who had parked beside them, unbeknownst to her. She whimpered low in her throat. Fuck!

He took a fistful of hair and smacked her face sharply.

“Bad slut! Bad!”

He dragged her over to the other man. “Tell the Boss  you’re sorry.” He shook her head, bringing tears to her eyes. She muttered behind the tape.

He shook her again. “Not sincere enough. Try again whore, or you’ll be in big fucking trouble.”

She looked up into the big man’s face. His eyes were …amused. Was this some sort of fucking game to them? She shook her head, vehemently. “no”

The Boss held a small keyfob in his hand. With the same smile on his face, he depressed a button.

The pain was excruciating…it bit through her throat, slamming through her body like a thousand needles. She fell to her knees, whimpering.

“That’s a fine place to be, slut,” came Will’s voice from behind her somewhere. Through a fog she felt her skirt being raised, her panties pulled down her thighs. Her face lay in the weed-choked verge, tears and snot gluing sand to her cheeks, when she felt a cock pressing into her. She shook with the lingering traces of the shocking jolt, unable to stop him from sliding his cock into her pussy.

“Wet.”

“Happens sometimes with the shocker. Saves on lube, right?” Boss laughed. His sneaker clad feet were right in front of her face. She felt his large hand tangle in her hair, lifting her head, even as she felt the thudding of hips against her ass. She was dizzy, woozy from shock and lack of air. With a quick tug, he pulled the tape from her mouth, then the cloth. She squealed.

“Your mouth is better put to use this way, Mz. Tucker, rather than ranting and raging at two guys who came all this way just to help you out. Now you’re going to show us just how grateful you can be. And Mz. Tucker? If you try biting my cock, I’ll be removing your teeth for you.”

In seconds, his piss-scented cock was pressing against her lips. A sharp tug on her hair made her gasp, and he slid his cock deep into her mouth.

“Will, is your cock nice and wet in this bitch’s pussy? Coz her mouth is sure nice and hot… and she’s gonna suck my dick until it’s nice and hard. When I’m done,  we can switch and she can clean you up. Won’t you, Mz. Tucker? You’ll suck all your pussy juice and his jizm from his cock?”

She stared up at him, as he jolted his hips forward, and buried his half-hard cock  down her throat. She gagged, tried to shake her head, but only choked further on the cock growing ever harder and longer in her mouth.

“You’ll like it. Pussy tastes great. And semen? Well, let’s just say, you’ll grow to like it before we get you all moved into your new home. You surely will, Mz. Tucker.”

His words trailed off as he continued to thrust into her mouth. Her lips were stretched around the fattest cock she’d ever seen. Her lovers, to a man, had all been of the more modest size. This monstrosity was going into her vagina? No …there was absolutely no way the thing would fit. She’d be torn apart.

She was rocked back and forth by the cocks in her pussy and mouth. There was a loud groan, and fingers biting into her hips as Will spurted his come inside of her. She wondered, for a moment, about disease. And then, realized she hadn’t been on the pill in several months.

Holy fuck. This couldn’t get any worse.

Ignored

Halfway through the blowjob, the phone rang.

She could tell he was torn between her finishing, and picking up the call.  His phone was across the room on the other table, since she was currently tied to the coffee table. His strokes slowed, then picked up pace again when the phone quieted.

Immediately it began to ring again.

“fuck!” He pulled his cock from her mouth, and for a moment they were connected by a thin string of their mingled fluids.  Then he pulled away, the string broke and fell wetly against her cheek and nose. He picked up the phone, and she tried to ignore the tickle on her nose.

She could tell it was work, likely his overseas contact. Occasional Mandarin scattered through his conversation. With her head upside down, she watched him tuck his cock away, and seem to forget her, tied here.  He went into the kitchen and she heard the fridge open and close, heard him talking, then the slap of the backdoor, and his voice receding.

“Well, doesn’t that suck,” she said to no one. She tugged her left arm, her right, but she was tied tightly. Her legs didn’t so much as wiggle, her knees tied widely apart.  Her tits ached from the clamps pressing on her nipples, but he hadn’t tightened them and for now it was bearable.

But she was almost unbearably horny. She could see the Hitachi in the corner, plugged in and laying as ignored as she was. Her pussy clenched as her nipples throbbed.

“I need to be fucked.” Her neck was starting to ache just a bit. She felt warm breath on her inner thigh.

“What the? Barney? No. NO! Go…git outta here. Go see Daddy. Daddy is in the kitchen. Go. NO, Bad dog. NO!”

Yet the inquisitive pooch was sniffing her exposed and leaking cunt. He pressed his nose right at the top of her slit and sniffed. The sensation tickled and she wriggled. His tongue slipped out and tasted.

He stepped back a bit and angled his head. She raised hers and tried to stare the dumb mutt down.

“No Barney. Go kitchen. Go find Daddy. Daddy has cookies.”

He dropped his head and began lapping at her lower lips.

“Blood of KEERIST!” she yelped, “Sir? MASTER?  STEVEN QUINN MC DOUGLAS!!!!”

Yet nothing seemed to gain her husbands attention, nor dissuaded the pooch from his snack. When he hit her clit she moaned, jolted, and wished he’d do it again.

“OOOh. Ohhh. ogod…good dodoggg..”

She began moaning as his tongue delved deeper, slurping up the sudden rushing of her juices. It was obvious that he was enjoying what he was tasting. His licking grew more frenetic as her hips wiggled as much as she could, trying to help him hit the right spots.  She was moaning, eyes closed as his tongue scraped across her sensitive clit again.

She came, spurting juices, which made the dog lick frantically. It appeared he didn’t want to miss a drop of her nectar. He lapped the tender and ticklish skin of her inner thigh, making her giggle and try to shift away. Tied as she was, she was helpless to evade the brush of his breath, the ceaseless stroking of his tongue.

As the tremors from her orgasm faded, the pain in her nipples grew.  The dog lapped the last of the nectar from her thighs, and moved back into the folds. He used his nose to press deeper, and she felt the unmistakable upwelling of lust once again.

“Gods, Barney, you’re…gonna…oh god…god…” She dropped her head back and began panting. The dog found the entry to her hole and press his tongue into her. She squealed as the second orgasm rippled through her, and at the sudden onslaught of sensitivity. OH her clit was so sore after she came. Hurt, hurt, hurt…and gawd she was coming again, moaning, head thrashing as he drank from her.

“Oh, ohhhh” her voice rose several octaves as she felt more tremors shudder through her. “No no Barney, gods please please stop boy…” She wondered where her husband was. These calls from China often took hours. She would surely expire if someone didn’t call the fucking dog off of her pussy!

“Scat. Go!” Arching up painfully, she glared at the dog. He was paying her no mind. He glanced up as she hissed at him, then ignored her, going back to his snack.

Lapping at the creases between her pussy lips.

Lapping at the pussy honey leaking onto those plump lips.

Lapping at the cleft near the top, and slapping across her clit, once, twice, then again. She came from just that, and he seemed to know that presaged another onrushing of juices. His tongue slipped to the edge of her tunnel, the a long lick from her anus to her clit.

He nosed back to her thighs, and she giggled despite the painful sensitivity of her pussy.

“no. NO POOCH!”

Yelping, moaning, she came again.

A slow, steady clapping came from the doorway. Opening her eyes, she saw Him, leaning one shoulder against the door jamb, watching the scene.

Her voice was raw, husky.

“Master…please make him stop. Please.”

“Hurts, does it?” He well knew how sore, how hypersensitive she was after an orgasm.

She moaned. “yes, Master…hurts.”

“Good, very good slut. I was worried that you would feel that you were being ignored. I see Barney has taken up the slack for me…and you’ve not been ignored after all.”

The dog had stopped, looking up at as his Master had spoken.

“Oh, do carry on, Barney,” He made a gesture to the dog, who seemed to share a smile with his Master, before turning back to the dripping, exposed folds in front of him.

She watched, head upside down, as he walked towards them, and began unzipping his pants.

Not Your Typical Day at Work

this is a l-ooooon-g  nilla-dragon tale, brought to you with  huge kudos to loyal reader vixen,  who “e-mused” me with the idea for this story. it won’t be to everyone’s taste…but it kinda turns my engine on…..  ~n~ (yeah, i’m that naughty…!!)

She was pretty pissed.

The store was almost closed for the night, but at the last fucking minute, a client had come in, demanding that her standard poodle be groomed.

“It says by appointment,” she pointed to the sign by the door,  “and I made an appointment,” the woman sniffed, looking down her nose. The store manager was full of apologies and promised that Amanda would get to the grooming right away, and would even drive her prized pooch back home when the task was done.

Amanda fumed, but fuck, she needed the job if she was ever going to build enough clientele to open her own grooming shop. Pasting a smile on her face, she marched the fucking poodle into the grooming area at the back of the store.

She shampooed Major, talking to him like he was a stupid teenager.

“It’s all YOUR fault i’m missing a fuck date,” she grumbled at him.

He looked over his shoulder as she rubbed his back haunches especially hard, and bared his teeth.

While she was scrubbing she noticed that his fur was matted on his legs. That was going to be a bitch and a half to smooth out, she knew. Damned owner had been letting him run loose, and not brushing him out afterwards.

She aimed the bottle of conditioner on his backside, just as the door banged open, startling her and the dog.

He spun in the tub, barking at the sudden noise, sending a wave of water out of the tub and down the front of her. It soaked her tunic, her pants, and her sneakers.

“Whoopsie…sorry Amanda,” sing-songed Natalie. Fucking bitch, fumed Amanda silently. Rumor had it that the blonde cunt was fucking the boss and was close to being promoted.

Goddamn fucking bimbo.

“I told you before, Nat, you can’t scare the dogs like that. They’ll bite someone, and fuck, see what you did? I’m soaked.”

“Well, it’s not like dog washing is a dry job anyway. I just came in to tell you that Marty has locked the front door, and you’ll have to go out the back once you’re done.”

“He’s out back counting the daily receipts, and you’re the last one here.  Sorry you’re going to miss your date. Toodles..” With a smile of complete insincerity, she waved at Amanda, and  flounced out the door, shutting it hard behind her.

Amanda began rubbing the conditioner into Major’s knots.  She was as pissed as she’d ever been. “go ahead, you bimbo bitch, rub it the fuck in. sorry you’re going to miss your date… right. That was such an asshat thing to do.”

She grumbled to herself as she massaged the big dogs  inner thigh, working the conditioner deep into the knots and matts.   She noticed he was surging forward a bit, humping against her hand. Peeking under his belly, she noted his long red cock was out.

“Well, aren’t you the horny dog,” she laughed. It wasn’t as though this was the first time she’d seen a doggie dick, after all. Still. He was a big dog, and he had one of the biggest cocks she’d seen on a dog. It kind of amused her, seeing the long length of it, the wet pulsing shaft so different from her Sir’s cock, yet she thought it might be a bit bigger. How strange, that a dog cock could be larger than a man’s!

She peered at it again. She knew she was a pervert…but still…she was kind of fascinated by the big dog dong.

OH, and okay….. she did occasionally fantasize…but that was for those verrrrry naughty girls.

She was just a regular normal slut.

She turned on the hose, and rinsed him thoroughly. Checking the noose holding him in the bath, she decided to strip down to her long shirt, and threw her sodden pants, panties, tunic, and sneakers into the dryer.

Her shirt was long enough to cover her ass, and it was plenty warm in here, so the dogs didn’t get chilled.  Reaching into the bin where the towels were stored, she smiled. Good thing she was almost alone in the store.  Marty never came out of his office, and chances were that he’d leave soon and go bang  Natalie anyway.

Grabbing up some towels, she headed back to the tub, and released the noose holding Major inside. Opening the back panel, she folded it down so that he could stalk his way down the ramp.

She toweled him vigorously, squatting to check his head, eyes and ears. He looked deeply into her eyes, tongue lolling.  Like he was laughing at her, the prick. Rising, she rubbed down his back, and taking up her smoothing brush, began working her way down his body with it.

She talked to him as she worked.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know. I really do think you’re laughing at me. Your momma is a real bitch. I like you, pooch, but man i needed to be fucked tonight. The Man will understand but geeze. ”

She continued her monologue, complaining about management, about her lost opportunity to get laid, about her lifestyle in general.

She realized that she was fantasizing out loud now, and turning herself on at the same time.

“,,,,and when He ties me to the bed so i can’t move, and fucks the shit out of me? it’s heaven pooch, sheer heaven.  Sometimes He’ll spank me, or just let me get to the edge of orgasm, or  stop and make me suck him off while i’m laying there squirming…”

“You really are a slut, aren’t you?”

The voice behind her startled her. She whirled around. Naturally,  it was Marty. She tried to speak, but he wasn’t listening.  He was looking at her legs. It was obvious that he’d been there, listening to her chat with Major, for quite a while. There was a suspicious bulge at the front of his pants.

“I had no idea you were such a nasty girl,” he continued, moving towards her. She fell silent,  speechless. Her mouth hung slack, her hands frozen. Major slipped behind her, as Marty advanced.

She jolted as a cold wet nose dug up her backside.

“Geezuz! Major! Cut that out!”

Before she could move, Marty grabbed her hands.

“Oh, no, Amanda,  let Major have his due. After all, I think he may be sympathetic to your circumstances. You’ve been telling him how he’s deprived you of your fuck visit. That you’ve been needing a good fuck from your “Sir”. You know,  I’ve read about sluts like you. Girls who let their Doms do ‘whatever’ to them.”

“I know….let’s pretend that for tonight…..*I* am your Sir….”

He paused, looking at her.

“Sir-Boss…kinda the same thing, right?”

She shook her head no, but he continued to hold her hands, preventing her from moving away from the dogs nose and tongue.

Marty surprised her by grabbing her ponytail.

“I think, slut, while the dog licks you out, you will get down on all fours like the bitch you are, and start sucking my cock. And you’ll suck it good, coz if I’m not totally happy? I’ll let the other dogs out and we’ll have ourselves a nice little doggie bitch orgy!”

He let the threat of that hang in the air for a moment. She shivered, but dropped her eyes to stare at the floor between her feet.

“And since you like getting tied up before you get fucked, let’s see what I can do about that.”

He led her over to a grooming table, and lowered it to the shortest setting, the one they used for the tallest dogs. He slid the noose around her neck, then slid her hands…first the right, then the left, into the corner restraints.

“Marty…please…don’t…Goooooooooddddd” she moaned, as Major, enjoying the opportunity, began lapping at her pussy. His long thick tongue  swabbed up and down her cuntlips, then pressed deeper, between them. Though soft, his tongue rasped against her clit. She moaned, bucked.

In short order, Marty had his pants unzipped, and his heavy cock bounced in front of her mouth.

“Open,” he demanded. “And no fucking teeth or else.”

She didn’t bother to ask what ‘or else’ meant. Her pussy was being roughly lapped. Major’s tongue slipped over her asshole, up her asscrack, not missing a spot of flesh over her buttocks.

Over and over, that tongue returned to her pussy. She was starting to drool sex juice now, her body quivering. Marty’s cock slid into her mouth, and his hips began plunging forward.

“suck that dick you whore,” he moaned at her. “suck my dick like the fuck slut you are..”

She yelped when Major’s claws scraped her hip. He had hopped up, climbing up, mounting her, his paws grasping at her hips.

“Ojeezuz…that dog is gonna fuck you, you slut…” Marty moaned, laughing. “You really are a fucking bitch…” he grunted,  fucking into her mouth, hard.

She sucked and stole snatches of breath, yet yelped when she felt that hot rubbery dog cock slide between her folds. The dogs hips rammed her hard, his hairy thighs and belly rubbing her ass as his hips jerked furiously into hers. She felt the slime of his dripping semen run down her legs.

“You fucking hot bitch…your cunt is being fucked by a dog.  What a fucking slut you are. Dirty, nasty, dog-fucking whore.” Marty groaned louder, pumping furiously into her throat in his excitement.

Oh gawd.  She didn’t want to be turned on.

Oh gawd.    She didn’t want to be turned on by having a dog fuck her, by having her face raped by her boss. By the nasty things he was saying to her.

And yet, shamefully, she was. Hot, throbbing, wet, responding to the cock slamming deep inside her belly, and the thick, hard fuck-rod choking her throat.

In moments she was swallowing furiously, as her boss’s cock spasmed in her mouth. His hands grabbed her hair, thrusting his crotch into her nose, making her gag on the fat fullness of his dick.

“oh fuuuuuccckkk”  he moaned, “whadda good fucking whore you are….”

At last he released her hair, even as the dog kept up a punishingly fast rhythm against her pussy.

She came hard as his knot grew, pressing into her g-spot. The spasm felt like it was never-ending, and as the knot continued to grow, it pressed that spot harder, deeper.  The knot was holding his spent cock inside of her, holding his jizz inside her, and filling her pussy past comfort and into pain.

“Ooooh…please…” she moaned, yet the pain added its own dimension and she came again. Her pussy clenched around the hard knot blocking her hole, as the dog relaxed his grip and began to turn away, still tied to her.

She knew they would stay like this for a while.

Her boss wiped his cock against her cheek.

“We’ll have to do this again sometime,” he said, as he tucked his shaft back into his khaki’s and turned to release her hands.

“Have a good rest of the night……bitch.”

His laugh resounded in the room until the door shut behind him. She lay there, pinned to the table by the dogs knot in her cunt. The door opened and Marty leaned inside.

“And let’s do this again, bitch. Soon.”

It sounded, very much, like an order.

BJ

Her head throbbed where His hands had grabbed gobbets of hair. Using them as handles, He drove her face relentlessly onto His cock. Her pussy throbbed in time to the drumbeat in her head, yet she held posture.

His cock was hard and heavy and hot in her mouth.

Her jaw ached from the strain of keeping teeth away from tender flesh, her lips were rubbed raw from the repeated scraping of each hard thrust.

Her throat gagged and trembled each time the head of his cock slipped lower, slipped deeper.

He paused, cock buried in her face, fingers clenching hard in her hair. He groaned, and she sucked slowly, gently, pulling air out of her mouth and adding suction.

His groan grew louder.

“Goood, good cocksucking slut…” and He ground His pelvis hard against her face. Her nose was smushed against crinkled hairs, tickling her and making her want to sneeze. The faint taint of piss came to her, along with the musky smell of cock.

He pulled out and she gasped a fast breath. She knew, from experience, that now He would fuck her face like a cunt, hard, fast, deep, without curcease until He came.

Each thrust was a torment of twisted pleasure and pain. Her throat grew sore with the scraping of cock on tender flesh, and her repeated gagging.

Her pussy was dripping now- she felt it splash onto her ankles. He fucked her mouth harder, and it was all she could do to stay upright. Her hands were bound to her thighs, her knees were sore.

She felt the telltale tightening, tasted the first drips of cum. He ripped out of her mouth and stepped back, spouting gouts of cum onto her face, her tits, her hair.

“Cumslut,” He grunted with each expulsion, until she was coated in His juice.

He freed her left hand. “Find it, and eat it all, slut,” His voice was dark and hard as He sat back into His chair and watched her capture each line of cum, and eat it like the hungry whore she was.

 

shower

She knelt in the bottom of the shower, the cold porcelain a rude and chilly awakening after a warm night of snuggling.

He’d been so sweet last night, holding her tightly, cock laying flaccid between them, pressing twice in the night against her ass…and she’d woken, wondering of what He’d dreamt.

His terse “get in the shower now, slut” had been a dash on her ego, that he’d go from tenderly holding her through the night,  to Dominant bastard in the morning light. She shivered.

She had no idea how long she’d knelt here, but her knees were sore, her body shivering, trying to avoid contact with the chill of the tub. He finally sauntered into the room and looked at her.

The look on his face made her shiver far more than cold tub walls ever could. He leaned, comfortable in his nakedness, against the sink, arms crossed. His eyes burned their way from her face to her tits, lingering on the marks freshly made last night.  He continued that long, slow perusal, smiling that wicked smile that did crazy things to her belly.

Not to mention what it did to her cunt.

Did she think she’d been cold? She felt…charbroiled under that gaze. And she was sure she wouldn’t like whatever was brewing behind that smile. Yet, whatever it was, made her pussy drool.  She loved and hated when he fucked with her head this way.

He leaned forward and flicked on the water. She yelped as the first, cold drops splashed upon her, and she was sputtering and shivering and moaning as the cold wetness coated her. Trickles and rivulets ran from her hair, down her back, down her tits, pooling where her arms crossed at the base of her spine.

“MASTERRRRRRRRRRRR!!” she hollered over the spraying water.

He leaned forward and turned the mixing valve onto warm. For 10 seconds, she sighed, eyes closed, head bent upwards in supplication to the sudden warmth.

She opened her eyes and looked to Him when the flow was abruptly cut off.

His cock was in his hand and he caught her full in the face with the first hot gush of piss.

Her yelp was unstoppable as the urine burned like hellfire in her open and vulnerable eyes, and he quickly took advantage of her open mouth, jetting more piss between her lips.

She choked, swallowed, almost vomiting.

He played his stream of gold down her body, focusing it on the triangle between her thighs. She was covered in his piss, and shivering from the forbidden lust it stirred in her. She was so fucking sick. She hated the smell of it, but loved it cascading down over her flesh.

She loved the warmth of it, as the trails of urine slid down her tits, dripped from hard nipples, ran in rivulets between her legs.  However warm it was when it hit her,  piss cooled quickly, and her goosebumps rose, as she knelt in the tub, covered with his morning water.

He stepped into the shower, turning on the warm  water at last, and took her by her ears. His cock, still holding a bit of urine, thrust into her mouth, soft for the moment, and released the last gush into her. She choked again, but swallowed anyway, knowing well the penalty of resisting.

He fucked into her mouth as the shower spray beat down upon them, trying not to drown every time he pushed balls deep into her, tilting her face up to receive the bounty of the spray in her face.

His laughter rumbled through his body, through his cock, into her throat as he came, hard and deep, into her tummy.