He Returns with a Vengence

After many months of vanilla with M and I…

which isn’t to say that we’ve not talked and texted…but no D/s…

suddenly out of the blue, He’s back.

He sent me a text last night that I need to wear my nipple clamps for 22 minutes a day. At work. (Except for tonight, since it’s a Holiday. Which kind of makes me giggle but then again, I am a sick fuck. ūüėÄ So instead I am wearing them while I write to you all about these epic changes! )

And it’s fine,¬† because I mostly work alone. But still. Then I’m supposed to wear a butt plug on Friday…but I can’t find them! I think I remember him taking them after our last playtime. I just know they aren’t here.¬† So…I can’t do that Friday task. Still waiting to see his solution for that.

My gods. My nipples hurt! I’m pegged now, and I’ve forgotten how much “virginal nipples” ache when clamped. I like it, don’t get me wrong, but man oh man !! OUCH!

Then I find my phone and I have yet another text from the Dom.

“BTW, nilla,¬† no playing with yourself until I get some satisfaction from your torture.”



I’m staring at my phone in shock, horror, and okay, total awe at the awesomeness that is my Master.

Holy hell, I’m hot. I’m bothered. I’m turned on and alive and …where the fuck did this come from? Waaaay outta left field, pervie peeps. I mean, we’ve been in vanilla mode for a looooooong time.

And okay, perhaps, maybe, possibly I’ve stalled a bit on setting up a playtime. I can own up to that. I’m busy and I didn’t really think I was a priority for him. I know he loves to beat me, but he’s busy too, so I figured business dealings took my place. Work fills my needs…and I guessed that his did the same. Maybe even moreso.

So, yeah, go ahead. Sue me for being all “whatever”¬† about playtime.

And hell, the weather up here in the frozen north has NOT been conducive to meet-ups, and the 36 hours we were above freezing were spent working at a fever pitch to get outside things attended to before the temps came crashing down. I don’t think my blow-up Santa Claus will ever be quite the same…he was hard-frozen by the ice storm, then pelted into the ground with 15 inches of snow! I’ve had clients out the ass (see what I did there?!) and more work that I can handle, and and and…

Well he’s changed things up, because…suddenly, planning for a playtime with my Tormentor is becoming a necessity.

Did I mention how absolutely horny I am now?

He has gone from zero to 85 in a heartbeat. I’m not sure *my* heart can keep up. I’m all fuddled and ‘whoa’ and…and did I mention that as I write this,¬† my nipples hurt? Well, they do! And my pussy aches. And I want.



Suddenly I’m starving for something I haven’t had in so long, almost like wanting fresh-from-the-tree cherries… in January. Like those cherries, I’ve been out of season. I’ve been frozen just like my blow up Santa Claus.

But magically, there’s been a thaw -a Master Thaw – and that’s cracked my ice, cleaved it neatly in two, and the boiling needs have thrust their way up and out. I may never get them put back.

Oh gods, the slut is out. The slut is loose. She …me…I…crave Him. Crave His pain. Crave His sadism, His lust, His desires. I’ll be the recipient of His slapping hands, His biting teeth, His pinching and clamping and smacking. I need it more than mere words can express.

I can’t believe I forgot how much I need this side of Him.

So for now, I’ll be clamped…and horny…and wanton…and looking desperately¬† for time to be with Master, and get the full-on beating I’ve been promised.

I’ve missed my Dom. I’m glad He’s back, glad he’s still that mean, tormenting Bastard that I adore.


PS I forgot how much these fuckers hurt when you take them off….*moans*…


Her nipples throbbed. Tight clamps grasped them, then were strung through pulleys  to weights that hung wholly supported by those tender fleshy bits. The weights wobbled as she trembled.

If she leaned back, the weights lifted, resting on a thin lip of wood that jutted out from the wall. If she leaned back, the turbo-sized dildo was pressed deeply into her anus. It stretched her painfully, the girth of it feeling as though it would rip her ass to shreds.

She had to have relief on her aching tits. They felt aflame with hurt, curls of heat screaming up from the pinched tips, encircling her breasts with fiery licks of pain. Eyes clenched tightly, she slowly eased back until the ache in her nipples eased, only to cry out at the invasion of her throbbing asshole.

Trying to breathe through the pain, she felt the coil of a different heat in her cunt. It was obscene that this turned her on. Her body quivered, and sweat slicked her skin. If she opened her eyes to thin slits, she could see Him sitting in the chair across from her, a small smile upon his face. It was so secretly gleeful, so¬†smug¬† that he’d put her in this predicament and knew she hated it. And knew she loved it.¬† She kept her eyes shut tightly, unwilling to watch him watching her. Her ass screamed. She leaned forward. At the movement, the release of tension on her aching anus, and the sudden shock as the weights fell from their support caused her pussy juice to spatter onto her thighs, and even more humiliatingly,¬† onto the floor beneath her.

She thought she had mastered the timing though, balancing the pain in ass and nipples in equal measure. The creak of the chair warned her of His rising.  Eyes opened to watch him warily.

He took two straps from the side table, and scooped up the big vibe. It only took a minute for him to attach the vibe to her leg, pressing it hard against her cunt, and use the straps to hold it securely in place. Turning it on, he moved towards the chair, then stopped.

“Oh, I almost forgot these.”

Reaching into his pocket, he slipped out two more weights. He added them to the ones already killing her nipples, then slapped her ass, making her jolt, and set the weights to swinging wildly.

“AAArgh!” she yelled.

Laughing, he sat back in the chair to watch as she came hard, then smiled as she continued the cycle of pain, orgasm, pain. Soon he would fuck her. But for now he sat enjoying¬† the elemental force of gravity’s pull.

… later …

“I’ll be late.”

The text sent a pang of pure sorrow to her heart.

“Okay. I’ll miss you. Like…a lot.”


That was it, the exchange over, His attention taken away from her, or put back on whatever project was keeping Him from showing up on time.

She needed.

She was horny, wanton, desiring of nothing more than sitting at His feet and sucking His cock.

That wasn’t really true, though.

She wanted Him to stride through the door, kick it shut, grab her by the hair, and toss her across the nearest piece of furniture and fuck her like a whore. She wanted it rough and violent, a reclaiming of what was His to fuck and hurt and take.

It put her in her place.

It felt so damn good, to be used for her ultimate purpose. She’d sing songs to the sky molecules as he pummeled her into space, she’d float among the star-dust as He filled her, she’d come back to her achingly tender body, full of His seed, sated by His body.

“Nipple clamps at 9.”

Her heart raced. It wasn’t *that* long until 9. And she had busy work to do. The toilet to scrub, the dishwasher to load, ¬†a bed to fold down.

“Yes, Sir. Which pair, Sir?”

“You know.”

The hurty ones. The ones that made her wince as He flexed the silver mouth open and closed. Small of clamp end, but fierce of bite, they made her tits hurt like hellfire, and her cunt run like a river.

“Yes Sir.”

She did her chores, found the clamps, put them on the bed where she could look at them. She had no idea when He’d come home, but hoped it wouldn’t be long after 9. These things hurt like fuck-fire. The more she looked at them, the more she dreaded the quick sweep of the second hand, the relentless pacing of the minute hand.

“Are they on?”

“Yes Sir. Hurt.”

“Well, I should hope so!”

“Are You…i mean…Sir?”


“May i ask Sir a question?”

“Isnt’ that a question? *insert laugh* Yes, slut, proceed.”

She thought for a moment. He rarely let her ask two in a row. Had to make this one count.

“Will You be removing these Yourself, Sir?”

“When you put things on or off or into your body by My words, are you not acting with My hand?”

“Yes Sir.”

Tricky bastard. He didn’t answer the question exactly as she had hoped.

“… later tonight, they will be removed. At my command.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Go outside. The night air will cool the fire in your tits.”

She didn’t want to go outside naked. She didn’t want to move. Every jostle of her tits hurt. Traces of fiery pain licked from her nipples, encasing her tits in an invisible bra of pain. That she felt an answering heat from between her legs didn’t improve her mood. In pain and incredibly aroused, she walked carefully downstairs and out the back door.

Fireflies winked on at the perimeter of the yard, a dog barked in the distance, and the faint yet sharply pungent scent of skunk rode the wind. She shivered as the wind caressed the burning ache that was her bosom.

Shit, she’d forgotten her phone.

And double shit.

She’d forgotten to ask how long to stay outside. She looked up at their bedroom window, as another gust of wind shivered along her skin. Goosebumps rose, pulling on her clamps as her nipples drew tighter in response.

She needed to stay out, but she needed to go in, too.

“Come in slut. Whatever are you doing outside in the cold?”

His voice, filled with humor, called to her from the kitchen. ¬†He was home! He’d tricked her after all. ¬†Quickly she moved into the house, her pussy so wet that her thighs slid across one another as she walked.

He stood, beer in one hand, tie loosened, an erection tenting out the front of His work pants. Khakis and hard-on’s were a delightful combination.

“It’s later…”

His voice was a drawl of amusement. He pointed to the slick silver gleam on her thighs with the beer bottle.

“Did your pussy think I was going to miss the party?”

“no Sir!” Her voice was a fragile wisp of sound, her sudden longing squeezing her vocal chords tight making her quiet. Her submission fell upon her in a wave more intense than the pain of her tits.

“Upstairs. I need to fuck my slut.”

“Sir, the windows, the door….” she waved at the open portals, the curtains doing a twirling dance in the wind blowing through their little house. A twirl echoed by the lust coiling from her pussy to her tits to her head.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, He tugged her relentlessly upstairs, just as she’d fantasized about.




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.


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.


Masturbation Fantasy

¬†It was Tuesday, our “Like” Day…a special day in our week when we connect. This one was tainted by my fuck up over the weekend, and I simply was not certain what would come of the day that has been “ours” for nearly 2 years. But once again, Master surprised me. It was the day we made up, when things were settled. When we texted each other and resolved the biggest issue. Later, as the dust settled, He allowed me an orgasm…I always get an orgasm on Like Day…but there were parameters. I had to create a fantasy to masturbate to that would include ice cream…part of my punishment is that I can no longer have any without His express permission…which will be a long time coming. So the fantasy¬†had¬†to have ice cream in it. I crafted it in my head, then lay in bed and began it. It was a powerful orgasm, since I’d not had ¬†any in many, many days; it was also a cathartic release of all the emotions that were still floating through my red head.¬†

Wednesday I wrote it down, exactly as it played out in my fantasy, exactly as I had done in in my bed (albeit substituting clothes pins for Masters mouth on my nipples). He liked it enough that He told me it is “bloggable” …High praise from my Master, indeed. ¬†~nilla~

You stood over me.


Hands tied over my head, feet apart.

“I could get twenty guys in here to fuck you. Use every hole, use it well. I could beat you, pound you into a pile of goo.”

I swallow hard. You’re not angry, you’re calm, firm, resolved.

I wonder what the fuck You’re going to do to me for my fuck up.

“Instead, I’ve brought just a few guests.”

You open the door and a woman stands there, holding a large ice cream cone. You go to your bag and pull out  two vibes. You cover one in a condom, squirt lube on my pussy.

“The lube carries the vibrations a lot more intensely” You say, almost to yourself.

“She will let the ice cream drip. All over you. ON your face, your hair, your tits. And she will lick it off you. You can smell it, feel it, do everything except taste it. This will be the last ice cream that your body will see, feel, experience until next summer…and only then if you are a good, very good, slut.”

She takes the dripping cone and holds it over me. where she stands, she blocks my view of You…but in moments I feel the pressure of one vibe on my clit. The second one roars to life and is gently inserted into my pussy.

“By the way. No fucking. You’ll have orgasms all right…but not one single bit of fucking. Bad girl.”

There is ice cream dripping on my cheek, my tit, my belly. She passes the cone over and over me. I feel You, taking a lick along the side of my tit, sucking hard on my nipple, then biting. I whimper, but not much sound comes from my duct-taped mouth. You have made certain that not one molecule of ice cream will pass my lips.

You play the second vibe over and around my clit and as I squirm, You press it hard against my tender bud…I’m moaning and trying to move and You bite my nipple as you torture my clit. There is pain and pleasure on both ends of my body.

Finally Your mouth leaves my nipple; You continue to play the vibe on my pussy, making sure the one firmly inside is still planted deep, while mauling my clit with the other. You whisper in my ear, as her mouth licks and laps the dripping ice cream on my body. It is torture AND a turn on , her warm mouth, the cold ice cream.

“nilla was a very, very naughty sub, yes?”

I nod, whimpering behind the sticky gag.

“nilla won’t make this mistake again, will she?”

I shake my head, vehemently,..NO no, I won’t.”

Your voice continues, the honeyed whisky of your tones at odds with the mean Dom things You say. “Maybe I’ll let Sir P fuck your ass next time. That would be some punishment, wouldn’t it? Or maybe a whole string of guys. One after another, using your ass, your pussy, your mouth…how ’bout that, huh?”

I whimper, shaking my head NO NO NO…this is NOT something that I want. Sir P’s cock already hurts my pussy…the thought of that…in my ass…. no…not a pleasant picture.

There is a plop and I arch up in shock…that bitch has dropped the rest of the ice cream onto my belly and is sucking and lapping it. I can smell it, and my mouth waters. I must swallow hard and fast so I don’t drown in my own juice. You¬†had¬†spoken of drowning me, after all….and it’s cold, so fucking cold. The dual vibes on and in me are making me come so close to cumming. My nipple hurts where You bit it, and I’m shivering with cold and lust…my clit throbs, painfully reminding me that i’m that close to orgasm…time to take away the stimulation…but you’ll have none of it…


When I cum, it is intense, very wet…and I almost pass out with the force of it.

nilla was a very bad slut, Master.

Thank You for allowing me an orgasm on Like Day.

Gas n Guzzle

i’ve had Vanilla-life-interruptus…and Master and I had a long and lovely phone sex session Friday night. I have the very last chapter of Tanked about half done, and simply no time left tonight to finish it. Saturday is a very, very long day, and I’m “offline” from my computer all day. ¬†So, rather than leave you bereft of masturbation material, I offer you this sexy tale. I’ve been working on this one for a few weeks (and whenever I needed a break from tentacles!). It’s different, and very long. A novelty from nilla…a full story in one shot! Hope you enjoy my “spaghetti western”…~n~

Dust kicking up under her wheels, she pulled into the gas station. She was more than half-way to nowhere.  Off in the distance, mountains formed a frame for the  landscape of sagebrush and tumbleweeds. She was headed there, soon as her tank was filled.

Her tummy rumbled, reminding her that it had been a while since she had eaten. ¬†She peeled her sweaty thighs from the seat of her sedan, and wished for the hundredth time that she had air conditioning. Likely her car had been built way before the idea of a/c in a vehicle had even been dreamt of! Taking out the nozzle, she pumped $40 into her tank, then sauntered into the weathered building. Hopefully they’d have a cold soda and something to munch on…it was a long while until she arrived at her destination.

It was hot inside, almost as hot as out. A fan as ancient as her car beat the air to no avail, serving only to push dustmotes through the slashing sunbeam that lit the chip and dip aisle. She opened the cooler along the back wall, and tugged a large cola from the back, feeling the cool chill of the neck of the bottle against her fingers.  She ran it around her face, down her throat, feeling the sudden change in her temperature. She gasped, enjoying the sensation of cold glass against heated flesh.

“Ya look ta be injoyin’ that soda. Kinda wishin’ ¬†I wuz that bottle.”

She jumped, squealing. Turning on her heel, she saw the man, old, wizened, as dry as the desert. He was smiling a gap-toothed grin at her, watching as an errant drip from the now-sweating bottle plopped onto her chest, and trailed slowly down into her cleavage. He licked his lips.

It was like a scene from a bad Western. What had her dad called them? Spaghetti westerns! That was it. This guy looked like a bit-player. Except…he was the real McCoy.

“Them real?”

She blinked. He was pointing to her tits. The way he looked at her, so hungry-like was kind of turning her on. ¬†Although he wasn’t much to look at, he was a guy and she hadn’t had a good fuck in weeks. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Might be.” She gave him a slow wink, a smile, and wiped the bottom of the green glass across the top of her breasts. His eyes followed every move of the bottle as it traced along her peaks and pressed down into that shadowed valley. She watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down sharply as he swallowed.

“Wanna find out?” she said, leaning forward and breathing in his ear. Her tits were inches from his lips. He licked across his bottom lip, which quivered, just a bit.

He pulled back. Glared at her.

“Doan you go makin’ fun of me, you¬†city girl.”¬†He threw it at her like an¬†epitaph. She shook her head.

“You misunderstand. I…” Throwing caution to the wind, she decided to be blunt. He was short, and dried up looking, ¬†but a pecker was a pecker.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He stared up at her, still not certain if she was playing some citified joke on him. She peeled her tee-shirt off and dropped it onto the dusty floor. Her bra may have cost more than the entire inventory in the store, but that too followed the tee-shirt to the floor. Her tits, unenhanced by the knife, sprang free and bounced.

“That ‘un’s bigger than the other one.” He pointed at her left tit.

“Happens that way, sometimes. That’s how you know they’re mine and not something I got in a doctor’s office in LA.” She thrust them out, hands on her hips.

“So…you gonna touch them or something?”

“Be right back, darlin’…I fer sure have a “something” on my mind.” He took two fast steps away. Then darted back.

“Nah, you come with me.” He grabbed her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip, and tugged her down the aisle to the front of the store.

“now, youall stay here, got it? Keep yor hands on the counter, and I’ll be right back.”

He darted off, surprisingly spry for a man of his age. She shivered as the old fan whirled some dusty air over her skin. Her nipples pearled, and her pussy gave that familiar tug of longing. She hoped no one else came in the store; then again, it kinda looked like she was the only one who had been in here in a decade.

There was the sound of  a door opening, closing. Some odd scrabbling sounds, then the squeak of the door again. Footsteps came first, then the man. He was holding something in his hand.

“Now girl, turn ’round here and lemme see those purty titties.”

She turned, curious as to what the hell he was up to.

“I’m not into that tying up stuff,” she warned, seeing rope in his fingers. It was a thin strand but still.

“Nah, for your titties. See this here? Goes right here.” He affixed a silver roach clip onto her left nipple, making her gasp. It pinched but wasn’t unbearable. There was a sudden upsurge in the pulse between her thighs.

“An’ this one gonna go right on here.” The mate to the first clip went onto her right nipple. He took the twine and wrapped it in a figure eight around each end of the clip, securing the clip a bit tighter on her nipple. It was kind of a kinky thrill to look down and see the gleam of metal, and the harsh fibrous twine holding onto her soft skin. There was a thin string between the two, making a small rope bridge between her nipples, and a long tail that hung down from the center of the bridge. The end of the twine hung to the top of her pussy.

“Oh, so purty. Really purty. But! Not done yet! I’m guessin’ yor feeling that in yor pussy, huh?” He peered into her face. She nodded. He smiled his crooked-toothed smile at her.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out another loop of rope.

“Yor not gonna fight, you want to be fucked. This just makes it funner for us. Not gonna tie you up, just put yor hands behind yor back. It makes yor tits thrust out, and yor back arch, and there ain’t nothin’ that makes me harder than seeing a purty gal with her tits poking out like that, and her ass begging for some action. ¬†Turn ’round now so I can show yew.”

Taking a deep breath, and with a bit of reluctance, she did. She had come in for soda and chips. Suddenly she had pinchies on her nipples, and a growing wet spot on her shorts. He tugged her hands to the small of her back, and made quick work lashing her wrists together. Then pressed her down to the counter.

“Bend over now, tha’s it.”

He came around the counter, and wiped the soda bottle over her nipples. There was a faint chink as the bottle hit the clamps and she moaned. Pleasure, cold, and pain. She shivered.

He tugged on the string between her tits, and she bent down. ¬†As quickly as he had tied her hands, he tied that dangling piece of rope to a nail on the far side of the counter. She couldn’t fully straighten. Squatting, he rummaged under the counter, mumbling to himself.

“Here it is!”

He rose, brandishing  a metal box. It looked like an old tackle box or something. It was battered and bent and rusty in places. He placed it on the counter. If she laid down across the counter, the sharp bits of twisted metal would poke her belly, and rub against the underside of her breasts.  It kept her leaning, but not quite touching.

“We called that ‘perdictament bondage’ back in the day,” he said, his voice cheerful as he came out from behind the counter. “Yew can’t lay down ’cause it hurts to lay on the box. Yew can’t stand up ’cause it pulls yor purty nipples.”

She heard the rasp of a zipper, then the sound of jeans hitting the floor. In a moment his hands were reaching around her,  working her zipper, tugging her shorts down.

“No panties? Well ain’t that convenient?” He laughed, rubbing his hand over her ass. “In between the two places, the nipple pain and the getting poked with the old metal box pain? That there’s where the pleasure point is. We’ll find it. Oh, and sure enough yor lil pussy is …why it’s plumb soaked!”

She expected to feel the piercing of her hole with his shaft. Instead there was a sudden sharp crack. She yelped, jolting. Forgotten was the clamps on her tits, which bit down hard. Pain in her nipples, pain on her ass.

“You hit me!”

“Yup. Gorna do it again. Been a long time, girl…but it shore feels good to have such a willing and ready slut. Yew know yew are one, doncha? Shirt n brazeer down the aisle there, shorts round your ankles? Pussy drooling down yor thigh?”

There was another crack of his belt against her exposed ass. She remembered the nipple clamps this time, and pressed down onto the box. Rough metal pressed against tender skin. She lifted up again. Her thighs trembled with the strain.

She didn’t know how many times, nor for how long he hit her. Her ass was a throbbing, welted parcel of pain. ¬†She felt the heat of it, imagined it was glowing. She was crying, snot and tears dripping onto the counter, when she felt his cock pressing into her. He sighed loudly.

“I fuckin’ love pressing mah belly up against that burnin’ ass ‘o yors. Feels so good, that heat. Makes mah cock fair to sizzzzzzzle as I slid into yew. Yor so fuckin’ wet, so tight…” He stopped talking, moaning instead as he pressed deeply into her tight, wet hole.

Her eyes opened wide as he speared into her pussy. Omygawd! He was fucking¬†huge! He kept pressing and pressing, delving deeply into her belly. He hit her cervix, and kept pressing. Withdrawing, she swore she could feel every vein, every gnarled inch of flesh. Long, thick, impossible. That an old troll like this would have a cock like a porn star…she almost blacked out as he drove his dick deep into her, piledriving her pussy.

Bang! against her cervix, Bang! her belly hit the metal box. Pain, pleasure. Her nipples throbbed, her belly throbbed, her pussy throbbed.

Lights danced before her eyes as he folded her tied wrists up over her back. She arched, offering more of her opening to his ravaging tool.

She came with an explosion of colors. When she roused, he was still fucking her, grunting with pleasure. It didn’t seem possible, but he grew thicker, each driving thrust taking more and more effort to jam inside of her.

He stiffened, his fingers grabbing her lower arms, and squeezing. With a wheezing cry, she felt his cock pulse in her gut, heaving and throwing great quantities of cum into her.

When she roused again, her arms were free, her nipples were free. She lay draped over the counter as limp as a rag doll.

The strange little man was nowhere to be seen. Shaking her head to clear it, she walked down the aisle, leaking cum, to retrieve her tee-shirt and bra. She found her shorts over by the silver rack of nuts, which she found rather amusing. Her shirt was still on the floor, but the bra had gone missing. That funny old coot had stolen her bra! She thought about banging on the back room door, but decided against it. Let the old guy keep it. He’d certainly given her something delightful in trade! She dressed quickly, leaving fifty bucks on the counter for the gas and treats. She stood a moment, rubbing her aching nipples through her tee-shirt, now smeared with dust and grime, and chugged the cola down. She was fucking parched! Snagging a bag of chips, she headed out to her car, started it, and drove off in a cloud of dust.


Nightfall, another small town

She sat at the bar, nursing a beer.  The hotel was closing up for the night, nine-thirty on a Thursday. She shook her head. Small towns. Still, she was only crashing here for a night before she moved on.

Rising, she turned to go back to her room, almost bumping into a myth. Yeah, he was tall, dark and handsome. What was it about the desert southwest that grew them out here? This was so spaghetti western!

“Miss,” he tipped his hat at her. She smiled, then attempted to move past.

“whoa, lil lady. You were at the Gas n Guzzle earlier today.” It was said as a statement of fact. For a moment she was bewildered. Huh? She had many miles under her wheels today…oh. The fuck station. That’s how she’d thought of it all day.

She nodded.

“You left these behind.” He handed her the alligator clamps with the string. She blushed.

“uh…” she stammered, “those…aren’t mine.”

“nope, weren’t. But. They are now. I kinda figured that, since you gave ole Ernie a helluva sendoff, you’d earned ’em.” He smiled at her, his teeth white as snow against his tanned face. Her pussy woke with a soft “rawr” as she looked up into eyes as dark blue as the desert sky. He took her hand, folding the clamps into it, and curling her fingers around them, hard.

“Send-off? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

He took her elbow, steering her out of the bar. The bartender threw him a look of gratitude.

“You gotta room?” He was tugging her towards the stairs as he asked. ¬†She nodded, confused. The second floor stair door closed behind them as she fumbled the key out of her shorts pocket. He took it from her fingers, and inserted it, slowly, while holding her eyes.

“Hmmm…a perfect fit…”

There was an underlying sensuality to that statement. Again, her pussy twitched. Dumb. Dumb dumb cunt. Her mama had always said she had no brains when it came to men.

“I…uh…” He pushed her to the bed in the center of the room, and sat her down upon it. He stood in front of her, long, long legs encased in tight denim. Why, she could almost see the outline of his…no. She wasn’t going to look.

But it was a really big cock.

“Went by the station not long after you left, I guess. Found Ernie on the floor in the backroom. ¬†He was laying there, with a big ole smile on his face and his cock hanging out of his pants and dangling to the side. Uncle Ernie had the biggest cock in the county. ¬†I could smell cum…and not just his. Lots of sticky stuff on his hairs, if you know what I mean. Then I moved him a bit. Found this in his hand.”

Reaching into his back pocket, he tugged out her bra. She blushed.

“I wanted to say thanks to the woman who gave Ernie one last good fuck.”

“Wait. A¬†last fuck? You mean…he’s……” her voice dropped to a whisper. “…dead?”

“As a doornail. Don’t worry ’bout it…we all knew it was a matter of time. I’d say you gave ole Ernie plenty to smile about. He was a big porno star in the 80’s. Guess you could figer that out with the clamps and rope and all.”

“Rope? I didn’t say anything about rope…”

“Nope. You shore didn’t ma’am.” He broadened his accent to sound like Ernie.

“But you know, ole Ernie, he loved his porn…” He fished a disc out of his back pocket, handing it to her.

She stared at the disc, at the cowboy holding it with that grin. He hadn’t. Had he? That fucking old coot! He’d gone into the back to turn on a video recorder? That wiley old fox.

She laughed. She wanted to be mad. But she laughed until she flopped back onto the bed, holding her belly. She laughed right until Cowboy laid on top of her, silencing her with his mouth on hers.

“I think scene one needs some ….editing…” he drawled against her lips.



The pick-up truck might have been white, once upon a time. It jolted across the dirt road, and pulled up behind the Gas n Guzzle. He stepped out of the truck, tall and lanky, pushing his hat back on his head. Using his key, he opened the back door, and entered the storage unit. Where once there had been dingy lights and moth-eaten curtains, there was now a gleaming window and tidy racks waiting to restock the shelves out front.

He stepped out the side door, and into the store proper. Going to the back of the store, he opened the cooler and snagged a cold bottle of pop. He sauntered up to the front counter, and put the cold bottle of cola down, and winked.

She looked up at him, and slid the bottle closer. Lifting it, she traced a path along the top of her low-cut tee-shirt, leaving a dewy path.

And smiled up into eyes as blue as the desert sky..