Perverted Pleasures (3)

If there were others serving in the house, she didn’t see them. After being walked down the sidewalk (two paces behind me, slut, he’d ordered, she remembered with the tang of embarrassment still fresh in her mind) bare-assed naked, and up a set of stone steps and into the big house, she’d expected a big crowd. A club of sorts.

But no.

It was just Master and Sir. She wondered what else would happen to her. Lust curled in her belly, knowing that she’d signed her fate when she’d desired this perverted vacation. She wanted to know what it was that she had been missing all these years when business came before pleasure.

Working her way around the foyer, she tried not to think about how much her knees were aching, how much her back hurt from scrubbing the marble floor with a toothbrush. It was almost impossible to ignore the deep and steady throb of her ass, which was still filled by the anal plug. Yet cleaning the floor this way did split her attention from some of her discomfort. It was such a lowly thing to do, and while she understood perfectly the mindset behind the chore, part of her seethed with impatience. When would she continue to be treated as she had in the car, as a wanton, usable slut?

“You missed a spot.”

She jumped a foot. So lost in her musings, she had been blinded to his approach.

“I’m sorry Sir,” she mumbled, eyes glued to the floor.

“Get that sorry ass over here and fix it.”

As she turned and crawled towards him, humiliation washed over her. Oh, to be treated like a maid. She who could have bought and sold this property ten times over–

A hard jerk on her leash made her choke.

“Pay attention slut. I don’t know where your mind is at, but when I’m here it must be on me.”

Giving the leash another hard tug, he used the free end to swat at her. The sting along her upper back was painful, but, she conceded, justified.

“I’m sorry Sir.”

“Head on the floor, curve your back and show me your cunt.”

The spot where he pointed was wet from her ministrations. Her forehead pressed against the soapy wet tile. She wasn’t happy about that; it was cold and smelled of cleaning solution. She hated for her skin to be touched by it. She remembered all the money she’d spent on face creams over the years. Fingers dipping into her displayed pussy broke her thoughts. Suddenly all her attention was focused on the sensations that his curling digits were causing.

“Don’t you even think about moving. No fucking, no begging. You’re here to be used–a vessel, holes, a cunt. You’re an ass and a mouth and pussy. All hot and wet and available to be used as we choose.”

His fingers slid free. Wiping her wetness on her back, he took up the leash.

“Follow me.”

“On my knees?”

He spared her a brief glance.

“You can walk–for now.”

She rose quickly in case he changed his mind, and followed the proper distance behind. She remembered something about her hands at the small of her back, and placed them there. She wanted to please him–please them both–and she wanted to be fucked.

Master sat on a chair in the middle of the room. His thickened cock had a slight curve to it.Sir brought her forward, looping the leash onto the raised finial on the back of the chair.

“Straddle me and sit on my cock.”

She did as she was bid, yet not as gracefully as she’d hoped. Her leg banged his erect cock, and a sharp slap and verbal admonishment to ‘be careful for fuck’s sake’ made her want to sink through the floor. Somehow she got herself sorted out until she was poised, her pussy lips parted by the flaring head below her.

“Sit. Do it slowly. I want to feel every inch of your cunt as you impale yourself.”

It was a tight fit. He was large, and her ass was still filled with the beast they’d shoved up there in the limo. Her clit rose and began to throb. Her nipples tingled and tightened . Breath came in short excited gasps as he filled her belly with his cock.

“Fuck me. Slow and easy. Up and down.”

It was easy at first. The excitement took her through the first strokes easily enough. Her thighs began to burn after a bit, her calves shook after a few more squats. Her pussy wanted it faster, but she kept to the same steady rhythm.

When his fingers grasped her nipples and pulled them down as she was lifting up, she came.

“There is no cumming without permission.”

Shivering with the shock of having an orgasm with virtually no warning, she opened her mouth to protest. Seeing the look on his face, she stopped herself from speaking. Eyes falling to his belly, she whispered her apology.

“Peter? Mr. Blue, I think.”

She wanted to look around and see who Mr. Blue was, but his arms came around her, hugging her body close to his. His cock was fully impaled, her legs shaking from the workout, as she straddled his lap. There was a tug against her ass, the stretching pain as the anal plug was removed.

She farted.

Loudly.

And cried out in shock and pain as the larger “Mr. Blue” filled her rectum.

Domly

He’s been texting and teasing me about Big Red ever since last Sunday, when I first learned of the New Butt Plug and his presence in Master’s arsenal.

It fills me with no little trepidation.

It rocks me with a wild lust.

Isn’t that fucking weird?

🙂

I’m scared of that fucking thing…yet I am (kinda, sorta) looking forward to His dominating me and making me take it. Scared, and turned on.

Not scared as in “He’ll do whatever He wants to me no matter if it will permanently harm me”–He is very careful with His belongings. Meticulous, even. But the teasing, the subtle torment He’s laved on me via text and phone calls? Oh, yes, yes, yes.

Major turn-on.

“I am so looking forward to fucking you while Big Red resides in your asshole.”

Just writing that, His words to me on Thursday via text, makes me shiver, makes my pussy quiver, turns my belly into hot wet jello.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve re-read that particular text.

It’s so sadistic, so Dommy, so very much what I crave. Even without the big event happening, I’m already a nerved-up, turned-on slutty mess.  It can’t get much better than that as a set up.

Keep your fingers crossed, for a playdate is in the offing, hopefully in early December. It’s been a while, and I’m anticipating our playtime, even while I pause and shudder at the thought of Big Red.

You know.

There.

(you’re a porn erotic writer, nilla. Say it.)

(oh myyy)

In my ass.

Broaching the tight (nervously tight) boundaries of my asshole. And staying there awhile. Being fucked in my pussy, while my ass is full.

The thing of so many of my masturbation fantasies, come to reality.

And then there’s the beating I need. That He has promised me. It seems we’ll come together at a crossroads of mutual need. He needs to beat someone–and this particular someone slut needs to be beaten.

It doesn’t get much better than that.

 

Sacrifice (2)

The door opened. She heard it through the haze of lust that boiled in her blood. The focal point was at the apex of her thighs, where an insistent throb made her want to rub, made her want to rise up and impale herself on any rigid surface.

She needed to fuck.

Her hands were held fast, over her head, secured to something. Her legs were pegged open, she had no idea how. The lethargy in her limbs was a direct counterpoint to the throbbing need in her cunt.

There was no fear, not that she could speak of it anyway. Something hard and rubber filled her mouth.

“Pretty.”

Not realizing he was that close, she jumped a little. A finger, covered in leather, stroked between her breasts, swirled around her belly button, and paused just above where she craved touch the most. When it left her body, she whimpered, begging.

He laughed, the sound full of pleasure.

“Oh, you’re a needy cunt, aren’t you?”

Suddenly her tits were grabbed, taken hold of with fingers that grabbed as if pinched in a vise-grip. Little mewling noises came from behind the gag as she tossed her head. It hurt!

“Very pretty titties you have, slut. They chose well for me.”

His hands relaxed, and she breathed, but in moments she squealed as he grasped again,  his hold painfully harsh. It seemed like forever that he held her thus; she thought she’d die from the pain. He released her tits, then slapped each one and moved away. Footsteps crossed the room, followed by the soft sound of someone disrobing. Gasping breath through her nose, swallowing spit and fear, she tried to breath through the pain memory, each hard-won breath easing the ache in her breasts. A shoe hit the floor, making her jump, then the other. A belt tinkled as it was unhooked, and the whissssper of it being pulled from the loops carried to her. She did not hear that fall to the floor, though she strained for the sound of it.

Footfalls, quieter now, returned to her. She felt his heat between her thighs.

“You mark well, girl. I like that in a sacrifice.”

The swish came just as the belt struck her left breast. Her scream was muffled, and drowned out the sound of the next blow. He hit just above the first strike. The third stroke caught her nipple. The pain bloomed, making her choke for breath. Several more blows, and she gagged, choking on the rush of tears and bile in her throat. The flurry of strokes stopped, his hands moving in her hair, removing the gag.

“Breathe. I like to hear your sounds anyway. Cry for me. Beg. Wail. I enjoy every sound that will squeak from you.”

Some of the fog cleared from her head, as it was intended to, she supposed. Drug her to be quiescent, then leave it to fade away, making her struggle against him, against the bonds that held her tight, open and available for him, which she instinctively knew he would enjoy. And burning through it all, the heavy weight of lust, making her crave fulfilment. She’d take it. Take all of his pain, if only he would fuck her.

She must have spoken aloud.

“Fuck you I will. Hard, as hard as ever a man takes a cunt. Using you, all of you. Ass, pussy, mouth…until I am done with you. You are the sacrifice, after all. Mine to dump my seed into. Mine to use. Mine to touch. Mine to cover with pain. I’ll spend you well, fill you, hurt you, pleasure you.”

His words echoed the dark thoughts that had been whispered in her ear by her preparer. Her nipples peaked, her pussy swelled, oozing honey. Her whole body sought to entice, to satiate the boiling needs in both of them.

The belt whistled through the air, the sizzle of the leather against her tit filled the room with energy. He beat her tits until they felt heavy and thick with burning bruises. When the first blow hit her pussy, she was rigid with shock, then screaming with the pain of more, always more. Her clit, rigid in sex-need, felt close to exploding when the edge of the belt struck it.

Her body convulsed, spasming in orgasm.

“Fucking slut.” His words ground through her body. There was an insistent push against her pussy as his cock sought entry. It was huge. She could feel the enormous head, and feared. He would rip her apart. He would destroy her. He would…

The lube heating her blood smoothed his entry. There was pain…nothing that large would enter so small a chamber without pain. Yet she craved the pain. He pushed deeper; alarm flooded  her. He was girthy, and long. So long. He wouldn’t fit. There was pressure deep inside of her, and she cried out with the pain against her cervix.

And came, hard.

He groaned as her cunt pulsed around him. Her head tossed as she shook with the powerful effects of drug and stimulation.

“Fuck meeee!”

She couldn’t believe she was begging for more, for pain, for friction for all of what He would do to her. His fingers wrapped around her nipples, tugging her breasts for leverage, as his hips began gyrating, figure eights interspersed with hard jabs.  She cried at the pain, begged for more as he filled her, used her rough like the whore he called her.

When he pulled from her pussy, she knew.

The massive head pressed against her anus. Here he could fully embed his full length. Here he would be unencumbered, able to thrust into her, bury himself balls-deep into her heat.

Her scream was nearly drowned out with his groan of pure pleasure. His fingers tightened on her nipples, and pain assaulted her at both ends. Her fingers clenched into fists, her asshole felt torn, and she would have sworn that she was damaged beyond repair.

Yet the quiver in her pussy betrayed her. Pain and pleasure beat through her. Her cunt compressed, squirting juice where their bodies met. His cock filled her ass, taking all her sacrificial body had to offer.

Ripples of orgasm tore through her, shrouds of pleasure weaving through her, stealing her breath, robbing her of coherent thought, leaving her drained, wrung out.

He pulled from her ass, driving deep into her pussy once more. His yowl warned her that he was cumming, filling her with his hot load of sperm. Her entire body quivered, trembling as her orgasm welcomed his, drawing his juices deep, deep into her belly. Back arched, arms and legs straining within the bonds that held her, she took, giving all of her to him, the fire in her belly blooming in one final explosion.

Her world went dark.

Slut Buttons

(I promise I’ll get back to the other story, but this one is begging to be writ, and I’m very very short on time this weekend. I know, you’ve heard it all before. But really…Why is *everything* (and I mean everything–every festival in the northeast) on September 28th this year? Seriously I could run 24 hours and never get to everything. Ah well, the pleasures of this life are many, right? Speaking of…..You may thank the lovely, sexy, sensual LadyP for this sordid tale….)
 

She lay facedown on the bed, one hand buried under the striped satin pillow, the other curled into a little fist under her chin. He stood looking at her, smiling. If it weren’t for her pretty ass hiked up as she lay with one knee drawn beneath her, he might take her for a young child, fallen asleep where she had been playing.

Truthfully, he had used her hard. He’d emptied himself in her during the night, had used toys and torture on her loveliness.  The long lines of the cane he favored crisscrossed the pale cream of her bottom, moved down the back of her legs. If he looked closely, he might see a few marks on the bottom of her feet. She had spectacular feet. Sensitive, long toes, a high arch, a shapely heel. Holding her foot in his hand and slapping the cane down the length had made her whimper and wail so beautifully it was like angels weeping.

From this angle, her bountiful breasts, and wet cunt were not visible. Thinking of that hot slit made him hard. He felt the stirring beneath the silk boxers he wore. His toes curled in the deep pile carpet as the familiar grinding in his balls heralded the rising of his shaft. Just looking at her fanny, and thinking of her pussy did this to him. Much as he adored watching her sleep, he suddenly craved disturbing her. Thumbs hooked in the band of his shorts, he made quick work of tugging them over his hips, shedding them as he stalked to the bed, a predator seeking its mate. Or perhaps its prey.

The sharp slap on her ass had her snapping awake, gasping. Her hand moved to rub at the reddening mark, but he seized her wrist flipping her to her back. In a flash he was upon her, straddling her, his balls resting on her belly button.  Her full breasts bounced as she fell upon her back, the perfect roundness of her areola a veritable beacon. They called to him. Touch me. Tug me. Hurt me. The back of his fingers grazed her nipples, stirring them to life.

“oh…nooooo…I…can’t. I’m not horny…Sir…I’m so tired.”

Her voice was a whimper designed for sympathy. He was not disposed to be sympathetic at this moment; his cock beat with a steady throb.

“Shhhhhhhh…”

His finger moved to his lips, hushing her with the gesture.

“Sure you can. And I know just how to wake up my little slut. You have these little “on” buttons. Your ‘slut buttons’ will get your motor humming in no time.”

Fingers found the rising buttons, and pinched, hard. She whimpered, arching. He twisted to the right, as far as the skin would stretch. Her noises grew more interesting, a cross between a whimper and a moan.  Twisting to the left, the moan became guttural. He knew her cunt was drooling now, that she was close.

Funny little slut. Her nipples were her Achilles heel. She may claim exhaustion. She could moan about not being ready. But the slut buttons made her gush, every time.

He tugged, then let the swollen nubs slip from his fingers.

Sliding down her body, he tugged her legs up, over his shoulders. Her cunt glistened with wetness, the head of his cock lubed as he slid it up and down her hot, slippery slit.

Squeezing his shaft in his hand, gritting the back of his teeth, he willed himself to not blow early. The head of his shaft pressed, pressed hard, entered her painfully slowly. She grunted, wiggled, but his hands held her legs firmly up over his shoulders as his cock penetrated her ass. Steadily he filled her bum with his rigid length, until his belly touched her fanny. Her eyes were wide, shocked.

She’d expected a good pussy pounding.

He so enjoyed surprising her. His fingers reached for her buttons again, pinching, rolling them, turning her pussy into a melted oozing tunnel. He watched as it trembled like a flower in the wind, grasping at the emptiness as the orgasm shuddered through her.

Slowly, a bit of agony for him, he withdrew from her butthole. He bit down hard, resisting the primal urge to beat off inside her bottom, using her hard and fast. He knew she liked it that way best. This, however, was divine torture for him as well. He watched her face as he tormented them both. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lip worried by her teeth. She was wincing, in pain and pleasure, he imagined. An anal probe with an orgasm.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he re-entered. He knew she liked it fast in her ass, liked the quickness of it, the pressure easing as he slid out as fast as he went in.

Not this time.

This was not going to be a quick how-do-you-do….this was going to take some time.

And he had nothing but time. He grinned as she winced. He felt the quivering of her rectum against his shaft. The squeezing  of her bum, like tight lips kissing each inch of him as he slid inside.

Exquisite torture indeed.

Laying his finger atop each of her buttons, he pressed them into her tit, watching them hide in the mounds of flesh as he withdrew his cock again, then slid deeply inside once more.

She came hard, panting like a bitch in heat as his fingers played with her tits, as his cock stretched her ass.

Leaning forward, pressing her legs back into her chest, he trapped his hands atop her tits, squeezing hard. His grin was wicked.

“A bit of sex poetry for my good, naughty girl, who keeps cumming even while I fuck her asshole. You say you don’t love it…but your cunt doesn’t lie.”

“But…”

“Yes, exactly. Butt.”

He laughed, his tone deepening. He was close. Very close. In a moment he would spill himself into her again.

“This,” he said, teeth clenching as his balls boiled, “will be my Masterpiece of poetic works.”

She gasped as his fingers worked her slut buttons once more, moaning as her pussy clamped and clutched and ran with her juice. And giggled helplessly as He delivered his ‘poetic work’ between the spurts of his cock.

“The time, sweet slut has now begun.

Your buttons made me do it.

I’m cumming slut, such dirty fun,

its time to just get to it.

My poem now is almost done,

and you, my slut are full of cum,

buried up inside your bum.”

Backwards

Fist in her hair, he pushes her backwards across the room, his other hand arcing stinging swats against her tits. They bobble from the blows, she moans. It hurts, with an ache she can’t deny–and yet it arouses. The needy wench inside her that stirs to life at every visit with him uncoils her threads within her until she feels every pulsing panting riot of need. Every molecule sings with it. Every heartbeat reverberates along the prints of his palm on her breast.

He propels her backwards until her back bumps the dining room table. Eyes glowing, he pushes hard until she is fallen across it.

His words, bullet sharp, pin her to the table as effectively as rope.

“Stay.”

“Don’t move.”

He moves around the table and she hears his belt releasing, the sound of his zipper stitching downward, the whisper of fabric over skin. Behind her, his hands hook her arms. She is pulled across the table, head hanging off like a broken doll.

“Open.”

One hand fists in her hair as his cock finds her mouth. The other slaps the belt down across her tender belly, her mons, thighs, and tits.

“Open your legs.”

She is reluctant, but his cock lurches forward, stealing her breath. His hand is a fist in her hair, holding her head, her nose mashed against his balls, the heavy smell of man piss an acrid burn in her nostrils.

She can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t swallow. Spots dance, her head seeks freedom. Her legs open, and he withdraws.

She steals a breath, only to push it from her lungs in a scream when the belt lands firmly at that junction of thighs, to that center of tender folded flesh.

Backwards, her mind is thrown, to the day she met this darkly dangerous man.  To the pain and torment and delicious pleasures He bestows.

His cock fucks into her mouth again, grabbing her ears and driving deep, holding, holding. He pulls away, satisfied with her capitulation,  accepting her submission as he uses her lips to harden his already rigid cock.

“Up.”

Dizzy she sits, as he pulls her close to the edge of the table.

“Legs around my waist. Support yourself as I fill you. You’d better be wet…”

Her smile bloomed. This was always her problem, being wet for him. Ever since that first day, that first time, he spoke and she oozed.

He tugged her until the spit-wetted head of his shaft pressed against her dripping hole, tugged her again, impaling her by slow inches, until she was filled with him.

His hands cupped her bottom.

“Legs around. Tighter. You relax, you fall.”

Her arms wound around his neck, as he moved her backwards again, until they fetched up against a wall. He used that momentum to bury himself that last inch into her. Pressing into her deepest space, stretching and filling her completely.

He fucked hard, her back pounded against the wall as he drove into her with hard, deep strokes.

She came, came again, felt her left leg losing strength as he drove her yet again into bliss, felt her body unfolding from his, undone, as the stars called her name.

He staggered with her weight, falling back, and back, until he fetched up against the couch. He fell backward into the soft depths, felt her falling into him, pouring over him, feeling the oxymoron of lovers–so blissfully empty, yet sublimely full.

 

 

Dick

They met in a bar in a mutually convenient location. First dates were always fraught with tensions on both sides of the table. He wanted to run his finger down the curves of her little black neckline, to see if her skin was as soft as it looked.

She wanted to be loved. Nurtured. Stroked.

She wanted to be wanted.

He wanted with a ferocity that was mind-boggling. There was one goal here. Score!

So much rested on the end of the drink. Would she have another? Or be on her way.

Three hurricane cocktails later they were laughing, while under the table, the press of his dick against his pants was painful. He enjoyed the pain, the promise of pleasure. He noted her nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her dress, she noticed him noticing.

She might have blushed, or maybe it was just the flush of the rum, but what the hell. He took her hand as they walked to her car.

“Follow me home. Please?”

She bit her lip. Following him home meant that she would likely stay through morning. She nodded, biting her lip, then giggled as she almost fell over when she leaned into him for a drunken kiss. He grabbed her before she went over, steadying her.

“Wait a sec…I think you shouldn’t be driving. Come with me…” His voice was tender with concern, and she kissed him again before sliding around him. The rush of sex-need was intense.

“Hurry,” she whispered as she nibbled his earlobe. He put her into the passenger seat, then buckled himself into the driver seat. He shifted, trying to ease the ache in his groin. It had never been so intensely hard. She must be sending off some powerful pheromones. He waited while she stabbed the seatbelt into place.

It took three tries.

With a flourish, she finally sent it home, the click as loud as clapping.

“Did it!” she giggled.

“At last,” he thought as he turned the car on.  She wasn’t sure what they talked about but it was not all that long before they cruised into a driveway, the dark open maw of a garage before them. He drove in slowly, put it into park, then unbuckled both belts. Drawing her across the seat, he kissed her with a hunger that reignited her own rum-fueled passion.

Fumbling, stumbling, they made it up the three steps from the garage to the kitchen, into the house, down the hallway. A long line of discarded clothing, mostly hers, left a trail. He kissed and pinched and fondled her breasts. She must have liked it for in moments she stood naked, back to the wall, arms stretched over her head.

“Ravage me, you beast,” she half-slurred, arching her back and thrusting her ruby-tipped tits towards him. His fingers grabbed and twisted, but the rougher he handled her the more she arched and growled.

He could smell her arousal, see the silver glint of it trailing down her thighs. His hands grabbed handfuls of tit, kneading the fat roundness, rubbing his still sheathed cock against her belly.

“Do me,” she whispered, biting his earlobe. “Take me hard, rough. I love it rough. Fuck me brutally you beast!”

Grabbing her hair he almost threw her across the room to his large bed. He smacked her ass as she landed on her side giggling. She moaned deeper as he battered at her bottom, her back arching, ass rising into each slap.

The heat from her ass cheeks, now a bright cherry red, excited him and he began to pant with need.

“I want to tie you, rape you, fuck you like you deserve,” he grunted.

‘Yes, yes, hurry. Tie me, fuck me, take me, you demon. Use me like a fucking whore…”

“Yesssss,” he moaned, dragging her up the bed to wrap her wrists painfully tight with the rope that he’d put there earlier, hopeful.

She growled as the rope bit into her flesh, hurting and exciting her simultaneously. In moments he was tying her ankle just as tight, stretching her leg wide. She’d never been tied so tightly before. She felt her nipples clench tight, her pussy so wet, so needy.

“Fucking hurrrrry. I’m dying for your cock.”

He turned and slapped her pussy hard, striking repeatedly. She cried, she kicked at the mattress, at him, with her free ankle. He grabbed it with one hand, while continuing the assault on her pussy.

“Come,” he demanded, slapping hard and hitting her clit. With a scream, she arched, whimpering prayers to nameless deities as she came again.

“That’ll hold you at least for a minute, you greedy slut!”

Hurriedly he tied her other ankle as her pussy pulsed and drooled.

Rising from the bed he shut the light and finished undressing.

“Hit me again you fucker!” she yelled, tugging at her restraints, thrashing her head. It was hard to see him in the room now, with the only light coming from the hallway. He moved towards her, mounting the bed, crawling between her thighs. His cock slid across her leg.

“What was that, you bastard? HIT me!” she demanded.

“My cock wants your wet holes, you little slut. Just as much as your holes want my cock.”

“Not my ass!”

“Oh yes, all your holes. Every one, mine!”

He laughed, then leaned forward and slapped her tits. He admired the bounce with every blow, the red imprint of his hand, the tight crinkle of her nipple. He laid atop her, and she felt his cock between her thighs.

Growling, she wanted it in her, dammit, she still rose as his mouth latched onto her breast, sucking and biting. The probing at her cunt made her freeze. Several somethings were probing. She felt a poke at her asshole, her pussy. Something fat and flexible probed at her, and he grunted around a mouthful of tit.

“Wha…what the…fuuuuck….” 

Her head arched back as she was suddenly full, both holes, with twisting, twining somethings.

He pressed his lower body closer, grinding his pelvis against her, moaning.

The fullness moved deeper, into her pussy, probing against her cervix, a painful excitement building there.

“Oh…oh fuck…” she drew a deep breath as the thing in her ass shoved deeply into her bowels. Past caring what it was, the sensations of dual-fullness, of pain in breast and belly ground her into an intense orgasm.

“Yessssssss!” He moaned, the first hard spurt shooting through and filling her belly with his seed. He filled her, filled her, filled her to overflowing, as dick in her ass and pussy pulsed hot jism into her.

Arching, receiving, feeling bloated and full of him. So full of him. He bit her nipple, bit her tit, and she welcomed it, reveled in it. Orgasms wracked her body, as she absorbed his juice, until spent, she slept.

She woke.

He stood beside the bed, and she stared at the place where his cock should have been. A small nubbin was there. Just that.

“Wh-what?” Feeling like she’d woken from a stupor, she stretched. Her body felt languid.

“They fall off after I cum, then grow back. The longer I go before I have sex, the more of them grow. Last night I had two. You seemed to enjoy them.”

He smiled at her.

Reaching out to fondle the nubbin, that was almost visibly growing, she smiled up at him.

“How long does it take to grow back?”

“Depends on the inspiration,” he replied with a wink.

“Beat me, you fucking bastard!” Dropping the empty juice glass onto the night stand, she thrust her finger at him.

His cock grew an inch when he slapped her inner thigh.

* Yes, there really is a drink called a Hurricane Cocktail: 1 oz dark rum, 2 teaspoons lime juice, 1 tablespoon passion-fruit syrup. Shake in a cocktail shaker with ice, strain into a cocktail glass.  url here: Hurricane Cocktail

** with special thanks to Donna, my scientific guru, who provided invaluable data to me about a species of sea creature that does indeed shed its penis after copulating, only to regrow another quickly. Some of these incredible creatures can thus copulate 3-4 times in 24 hours. Horny little devils. (my kind of creature!)

and yeah. blog vacation. fail. again. 🙂 The idea of it seems to be inspiring a lot of these “interesting” stories, however.  ~n~

Invaded

dragon2Fist in her hair holding her face to the bed.

Hands on her legs, tugging up her skirt, ripping down her pantyhose.

“Hurry.”

The voice came from behind her, and she felt her wrists tugged to her back, the slick feel of plastic looping around them, tugged tight enough to bite into her wrists.

A finger probed her slit, finding her hole.

She tried to shake her head, but the hand in her hair held her still, held her face into the mattress, nearly cutting off her breath.

There was a sound, she recognized as a belt coming undone, the metal chink of the buckle tugged open, the unmistakable sound of a zipper being quickly lowered.

And then he was in her.

Two hands on her head, two hands holding her forearms, as he pummelled her pussy from behind. Her legs hung off over the edge of the bed as he reamed her, pumping so hard that her left shoe fell off with a thunk to the floor.

Fingers biting into her arm as she felt the cock in her pussy pump its jizz into her belly.

A sigh, a soft moan, the pop of release as he tugged out of her. She felt the mattress below her cunt wet with the drizzle from her leaking hole.

Hands moved, tugging hairs from her head, other hands taking over, mashing her face in the bed.

Fingers probing her pussy, and she knew, she knew what was coming. Fingers smearing wetness on her asshole, fingers poking into that tightly muscled ring. She tried to scream then, voice muffled in the bedclothes, tried to struggle, but to no avail.

There was pressure, as the finger was withdrawn,  as the hot flared head of a cock replaced it. The thick head was relentless, and her anus was sprung open as the invader popped inside.

She screamed again, deep into the mattress, her body taut with the pain.

And then he was withdrawing, pulling all the way out.

A moment of relief, just like after having a big poo, and she thought, hoped, prayed that was it, that he was done, that it was over.

It wasn’t over.

Between one breath and the next, he pressed forward into that tight bundle of tissue, sliding even more deeply into her bowels . He withdrew yet again, she whimpered,  understanding now that he was enjoying the sensations of her ass fighting his assault.

He thrust hard, her asshole relenting to his pole. He slid deep, filling her shithole with the thick hard prick. He ground his hips into her, until she felt the crinkly hair of his crotch against her asscheeks, working his tool all the way into her ass. She tried to push him out, and he ground deeper, corkscrewing his shaft up into her gut.

And holding.

“I’m in.”

There was a sound, which she couldn’t identify. Her head was lifted, and a wad of something shoved between her lips, then sticky duct tape over that.  Something was wound around and around her head, taking her sight. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t fight, couldn’t stop them.

She was rolled to her side, then her back, the other cock still lodged deeply in her ass. The throbbing there was intense, she felt the need to shit, to expel that which filled her so.

She felt, too, the throb in her clit, her nipples.  She felt the flush of shame at that.

Her hands hurt, pressed under her back, against the shirt of the man under her. The bed shifted again.

She shook her head, even as hands came to her shirt, ripping it open, as her bra was ruthlessly shoved up over her tits, baring them.

A cock probed her pussy slit, fingers pinched her left nipple, teeth clamped over her right.

And then he was inside her in one hard thrust.

The man under her moaned against her ear, a soft “fuuuccck”.

The man on top fucked cruelly, a steady pounding into and out of her hole, while the rub of jeans against her stockings tore long tracks where the teeth of his lowered zipper scraped her thigh.

It seemed like it went on forever.

Her pussy ached, throbbed, hurt with the relentless thrusting. Her clit, banged relentlessly, quivered. The orgasm, when it hit, was like a tsunami. She stiffened, back arching even in this awkward position, her cunt clenching and grabbing at the pumping rod, slicking her tunnel with hot juice.

“Whore,” he growled at her, his hands mashing her tits, exciting her body to more paroxysms of orgasmic clenching.

His pace slowed, withdrawing as if reluctant to leave the steaming hole, slammed back as if trying to punch her belly with the swollen head of his cock.

He came, buried in her, hot thick gouts filling her as he growled. The man under her shifted, flexed his hips once, twice, and she swore she could feel his cum jet from him, pouring into her bowels.

They pulled from her, cut her wrists free, left her laying on the bed.

Tormented

“I’m gonna play with you until you cum.”

The voice filled her with dread. She couldn’t see, couldn’t move. She felt the cool air against her tits, her open legs, felt the tug and tension in her groin muscles that protested being opened so widely.

“Gonna play with your pussy until you fucking beg me for more.”

She shivered, trying to shift away, to close her legs, but however he’d tied her, there was no way…the moan escaped as the pressure of a vibrator pressed against her clit.

There was a shock of pain as something closed upon her left nipple.  The sound of moans filled the small space. The vibrations on her pussy were stirring something deep inside of her, making her twist her hips.

“You fucking love this, you cunt, your pussy is so fucking wet…”

The sound of glee in his voice unnerved her.

“I’ll never beg,” she thought to herself, even as her hips rolled, trying to snatch up the vibe and get it deep, deep into the place that longed to be filled.

“Beg for it, whore.”

She whimpered as there was another tug of pain on her other nipple. Her clit throbbed with it, the connection between nipples and pussy undeniable. The vibe was too intense to handle, the pressure making her squeak and moan and writhe.

Shaking her head ‘no’ her hips undulated with a will of their own. The darkness swirled with dazzling lights behind her tightly closed eyes, under the blindfold. The  needs of her body began to overtake her mind, even as his hand slapped hard on her throbbing cunt.

“Beg!”

Slap.

“Tell me you want my cock in your hole!”

Slap.

Her hips arched upwards, seeking more, needing to be filled there. She didn’t talk dirty. She didn’t…

“Fuck me…please Sir, fuck my pussy. Please Sir, put your cock in my hole!”

With a triumphant laugh, he filled her.

Desire (5)

A whirlwind of sensations swirled through her. The gentleness he’d used before had been replaced by its opposite. Her nipples ached from the pinches, her pussy throbbed from smacks of his heavy hand.

She lusted.

Uncertain as to why her body had awakened so intensely to lust as he had hit her, she could only lay there and burn. He’d left her side after smiling at her with a wicked grin. Across the room, his back to her, she watched him disrobe. The shadows danced with candle light across his back, a perfect metaphor for what was unfolding here. Light and dark, inexorably intertwined.

He’d brought her to the height of sexual need with the pain, and now let it ebb. Except…it wasn’t.  If anything, her desire grew in intensity. She wanted…needed…to be fucked. She doubted she’d ever wanted  more intensely in her life, ever. She watched as he slipped out of his jeans,  nearly drooling at the tight curves of his ass as he bent to remove his socks. The view did  nothing to tamp down the waves of lust building between her thighs. Her nipples were fully erect, painfully erect. She discovered she was almost panting, tugging at her wrists as if she could pull herself free, get herself off.

Her bonds held tight. Her lust was restrained, held at his whim. The words he’d spoken earlier came back to her. “Part of submission is learning to wait. Waiting for my desires, will heighten yours.” She didn’t think she could get any higher.

He turned then, moving towards her. He held a short cane in his teeth, and a golden foil packet in his hands. As he moved, he tore open the condom, slipping it over his rigid shaft easily. Her eyes moved over him, hungry for every detail.

He mounted the bed, and for a moment, his entire body was illuminated for her. Hair arrowed down his lower body, drawing her attention to that which she craved most. Her eyes rose to meet his. He rose up, straddling her, sitting on her lower body. His cock rested on her mons, definitely not where she wanted it. His legs pressed against her and the heat of his ass resting on her upper thighs only added to the heat she felt inside.

If he didn’t fuck her soon, she might just go up in flames!

“You want.”

She nodded. His eyes held hers. There was a magnetism there that was hard to ignore. He slapped the small cane across her tits. Arching, she cried out. Though the thing was slender, it stung! Again he zinged it across her tit, then slapped the other.

She moaned, deep in her throat, a gutteral, animal sound of pain and lust. Her hips bucked under his ass, even as he landed blows across her nipples. The sting there only served to intensify the throb of her aching clit.

“Slut.”

Staring down at her, his eyes bore into hers. Her gaze held steady, but she felt the flush of embarrassment rushing through her. It only served to make the wet flesh between her thighs burn hotter.

Quick as a flash, he slapped her tit with his hand. She gasped. It hurt! It was sudden, unexpected, shocking. The blows kept coming. Left tit, right tit. He was unrelenting, slapping sides, top, undersides. Her tits bounced around her chest, beginning to pink, then redden. It hurt, the blows coming on top of the criss-crossed lines from the cane. She moaned. A tear slipped from her eyes, but in the commingled feeling of need and pain, she barely noticed it. Another deep moan, louder this time, filled the room. He smiled down at her as he beat her tits. She felt them swelling, felt like they would simply explode from the blows. The ache was intense, her nipples throbbing sharply with each blow.

Why was she moaning?

As if separate from herself, she felt the pain, but there was a responding tingle in her clitoris.  Slap-tingle. Slap-tingle. Reaching forward, he grasped both nipples and squeezed. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, until he started to pull his hands up. Still holding her nipples tightly, he pulled upwards, as if trying to tug her tits off of her chest by them. When it seemed that there was no more flesh, no more resilience, he twisted the nipples he held.

The pain was incredible. She cried out, shocked at the intensity of this new pain. And when he dropped her tits, it was almost as painful, as blood rushed into her abused nipples. He watched as she whimpered, moaned, tossing her head side to side as she tried to cope with the assault.

Shifting his hips, he let the tip of his cock tease at her slit. The shock of pleasure was as intense as the pain had been.

“I’m going to hurt you when I fuck you.”

The dark words sent a spear of lust straight to her core, even as his shaft pierced her folds. Without preamble, he jabbed his cock into her. It hurt, as her sex-starved pussy was suddenly filled with him. He fucked her viciously, using her hole to satisfy his own need. His body covered hers, and his mouth savaged her tits. Reaching between them, his fingers found her swollen clit and pinched.

She came in an explosion of light, color, motion. Her pussy clamped down on his thrusting cock as if it would never let go. He pushed through her grasping pussy, further exciting her, and making her orgasm roll on and on. She’d never been fucked while having her orgasm-the feeling was intense. Incredible. And still he fucked. He pounded her roughly, shoving every millimeter of cock into her cunt. His balls slapped at her ass, as he withdrew an inch, then grunting, pressed hard into her, short little fucks as if to pierce her belly. Her cervix screamed as he hit it hard several times, and her orgasm continued to roll through her.

It was one long, undulating wave of pleasure, wrapped in a cocoon of pain.

He pulled out of her pussy, and rose from her, gasping. Sweat rolled down his face, gleamed on his chest. His fingers slid into her pussy, then lower, pressing into her ass. One finger, making her whimper at that unfamiliar sensation. She knew. She knew what was coming next. For a moment, she wondered about that safeword. Two, two fingers in her asshole, then quickly, three. Twisting, turning, fucking as they widened her, and before she could think, his thumb pressed on her clit, mashing it hard, as his cock pierced through her back door.

Her mouth opened in a howl, but it came out as a deep, guttural grunt. He pressed hard, worked his way deeply into her bowels, filling her ass with his rigidity. For a moment, he lay upon her, buried deep, and let her breathe.

“Good whore. Going to fuck your ass hard, fill you with my jizz.” His words were dark, whispered into her cheek. And then he moved. Hips sliding down, then back, sawing his way in and out of her pooper. Her anus felt stretched beyond measure; every withdrawal was like taking the most incredibly sensual shit. Every filling of her hole was like being fucked by a baseball bat. It felt like he was bigger with every thrust.

Yet his thumb continued to play with her clit, her pussy began to tingle. As unbelievable as it was, she felt another orgasm building, building fast. As his pace increased, as he began to slam into her ass with the same force he’d fucked her cunt with, she felt the run of moisture between her thighs.

“Whore…you came. I felt that!” He was chuckling into her ear, biting her earlobe. His thumb rubbed her clit harder, faster, as his thrusting grew deeper. Soon he was grunting, and she knew he would cum. His hand rose to her tits, both closing into fists over her breasts, making her squirm to get away from the pain. His pelvis ground down on her pussy, the hair of his groin rubbing her lower lips, and pulling another climax from her, even as he shouted his own cumming.

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

The steady throb of her ass woke her. She lay cradled in his arms, sated. They were sticky, sweaty, and entwined deeply with one another.

“You were a good slut.” His voice, the honey of his voice, made her smile.

“Thank you Sir.”

“We’re not done slut. Just on temporary hiatus.”

The words filled her with a curiously light sensation. One she recognized for what it truly was.

Happiness.

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.

😉