Hired! ~10~

y’all have stuck with this for 9 chapters without ANY sex. That’s over 10,000 words, you guys!  I’m so happy that you’re reading, and commenting and loving this tale. You’re wait is about to be over…. ~n~ oh…and today is my birthday…but I’m giving you all the gift! Enjoy!

 

The room was designed to look like the interior of an old barn, all wood beams, studs, and rustic boards. Around the room were alcoves, formed by thicker beams. They weren’t private, but they were intimate, she thought. Eyeing the heavy iron rings, nails, and hooks, she licked her lips. He watched her take in the great space, feeling himself harden when that wily tongue slipped over her shapely mouth. He could see the need within her, feel her fascination with the variety of straps and chains which hung near each station. He led her to one niche, pushing her against the wall. The heat of his body settled against her ass. She wiggled against him, smiling to herself. His hand, still holding her tie-wrapped wrists, pulled them up over her head. Hanging in this particular space were a pair of heavy cuffs, hung on a length of chain. Pausing a moment, he felt her bum press hard into his groin and wiggled.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered into her hair, slapping her bum.

“Me?” she said, her voice a husky tease as she looked over her shoulder at him. “I was just warming up.”

“Indeed,” he said wryly. She had certainly warmed up parts of his anatomy. Now it was time to return the favor. He slipped each wrist into a cuff, sliding away his tie. He looped it around her throat, the ends trailing down her back.  Pressing forward, he squashed her against the roughness of the wall, centering his shaft on her buttcrack, and moved suggestively along that welcoming valley.  When she moaned, he took a step back. Time to dance, he thought.

He lifted her chin, serious now.

“Yes? Or no?”

She gazed at him a moment, looking into his eyes, then at his mouth, before returning to his eyes. Smiling slightly, her lips parted.

“Yes.”

He nodded, accepting her acquiescence.

“Safe-word?”

She’d pondered that, actually. She couldn’t use “red”…that had been her safeword with Alex, and it conjured up too many hard memories.

“Ouch?” she said at last, grinning cheekily.

“Oh, I think you’ll be saying that far to often for that to be a good choice. Besides, with that “ouch” comes the pleasure. Would you deny yourself that?”

He made a good point, damn him. It was interesting seeing the Dom-mode begin to suffuse him. There’d been flashes, to be sure, but this was way more intense. He wasn’t scary-Dom, but he was…

Something.

More primal, perhaps. Eyes sharp and keen. It was body language and a way he had of engaging visually.

“I see the wheels turning again, Ms. Bobblehead.”

“Oh, right, safe-word. Uhm…” she paused, and he wondered what was coming out of that cheeky mouth next. Her eyes were dancing.

“What about asshole?”

He grinned, shook his head.

“You’re a smartass to the core, aren’t you? No. A word you’ll remember.”

“Oh, I have no problem remembering to call you an asshole,” she said sweetly. “I already have, many times.”

“You may want to remember your position here, little girl. You’re rather…vulnerable… just now, yes?”

She thought he might smack her ass then, give her a taste of what she needed. Her mouth formed into a round () of surprise at his next move.

He reached out then, and firmly tugged down the top of her dress. Her tits popped free, bobbing back and forth as if to entice his touch. He gave a quick slap to the top of each, making her gasp. He slapped at the sides, but couldn’t get a good angle. She was too close to the wall for him to get a good swing going. Moving behind her, he tugged her hips back, forcing her to bend. Her tits swung in the air. He reached for something, she couldn’t see from the angle, but the slap of a crop against the underside of her breast was familiar, and painful. There was no sound for some minutes as he beat her tits, top, sides, bottom. When he paused, she was breathing heavily.

“Was there a word, miss?”

She shuddered a deep breath into her lungs, her tits blazing fire. For a long moment she couldn’t even remember her name let alone a word. A word. A safe-word. Right. She thought she might cum right then and there. A quick slap of the crop on her nipple made her gasp.

“Mercy!.” She yelped out the word.

“Good choice,” he said, then returned to slapping at her tits. He alternated using the crop and his hands in equal measure. She thought she would scream with the hurt, but the pleasure of it held her silent other than moans and gasps. Finally, when she thought she was going to have to cry her safe-word, he stopped. How these Tops knew the breaking point was a mystery to her.

“Good girl,” he crooned, rubbing her aching breasts, his crotch coming to rest hard against her ass. And she could feel him. Feel the rock hard jut of his cock against her rear. She was salivating at the thought of that hardness sliding between her thighs and soothing the fire he’d managed to light in her pussy.

His hands slid down her sides, then hooked into the hem of the bandage dress. Lifting it slowly, she wanted to scream ‘hurry, please, touch me’, but held onto herself. Gawd, but he was taking his time, his fingers sliding over her round belly, trailing along the curve of her hips, the tops of her thighs.

“Please,” she moaned, pressing herself back against him.

“You know,” he said conversationally,  “I think this is the most pleasant you’ve ever been to me! Even saying ‘please’. It’s very out of character, you know.”

A long moan escaped as his hands teased up her inner thigh, stopping just short of where she most needed to be touched.

“Are you becoming a greedy slut?” he asked, his tone deepening. He could smell her arousal, feel the heat in her groin. His fingers moved an inch closer. She was quivering, her ass pushing out hard against him.

“Oh, please,” she whimpered.

His hands lifted, cupping her tits and flicking the nipples with his thumbs. He was holding her hard against him, his fingers kneading the tender flesh, constantly fluttering over her erect nips.

“Be right back,” he said cheerily, and stepped away.

He could hear her groan from across the room, and he smiled broadly. She heard him approach, hope blooming.

“Oh, by the way,  could you hold this for me until I come back?”

He slid the crop handle between her thighs, lifting it tight against her pussy. She ground down on it, rubbing her clit, moaning as he snugged it close. OH gawd, so close,she thought, trying to move to the best position.

He lowered the crop to mid-thigh.

“That’s better. Don’t want you leaking all over that,” he said. And he laughed. The asshole.

“Oh, and KittyCat? Don’t drop it. You won’t want to find out what happens if you do.”

The sound of his footsteps moving away made her want to scream. She wanted to shift position, to rub herself on something, anything. But if she moved, she’d drop the crop.  And his warning had been delivered in full-on Dom voice. Which made dropping the damn thing all the more tempting. The devious bastard!

 

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

 

 

 

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~

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 Fantasy for Master

I text You from outside the door.

It takes only a moment before it’s pulled open. You tug me into the tiny hallway, and You kiss me, hard. I love Your fierce kisses. They are a force to be reckoned with and never fail to make my pussy leap to life.

I’m yearning towards you, leaning on you, almost breathless with my need for your hugs, your touches, your ownership.

Your fist moves to my hair, and you pull me across the room.  I blink, surprised.  A man sits there. Oh!  my heart races when I see him there. He is perhaps about your age, maybe a few years younger. His hair is thick and almost shaggy. He is holding a hank of rope in his lap, and a white cane in his hand as he sits comfortably at ease in the chair.

Kneel, you tell me, pushing me to my knees in front of him.

“This is Sir M,” you say, “and you will be obedient to him, slut.”

“Yes, Master,” I say, my voice hushed, quiet with nerves. I have thoughts whirling through my head, but I don’t give voice to any of them. We’ve talked about this a dozen or more times. I’ve always been glib about it, and yet, confronted by the reality? I am a mass of nervous energy, but sit, quiescent. And then He speaks.

“Take my cock out and suck it, slut.” His voice is raspy, not the sexy husky tones of You.

“Suck, but gently,” He tells me.  Obediently I open my mouth, waiting for him to rise and come to me. You smack the back of my head and gesture me to move to him.

Oh. Duh. I crawl over to where He sits. I look back at you, Master, once, whether in pleading to not do this, or admitting I am yours to do with as you will, I’m not certain. You point at him in a way that says “get on with it, slut.”

I put my hand on his knees, moving between his legs.

“No hands,” you say in unison.  I slide my hands behind my back, nesting one fist inside the other palm. You slip a noose over my wrists, tightening, and wrapping the rope around my arms, several times. This makes my task much harder, and I lean my head against him, against his crotch, as I try to get the zipper tab between my teeth. It isn’t easy, yet I feel rushed to do it, to get it right, right away. His hand on my head gives me pause.

“Gently, slut. Take your time and do it right. You don’t want to bite my cock, trust me.”

I shake my head no, then realize he can’t see me. “No, Sir M,” I say, my voice shaky with nerves. He pushes my head down to his crotch again. With tongue and teeth I’m able to lower the zipper. It is a difficult task. I root around in the opening trying to find his cock.  For an instant, I’m suffused with amusement…thinking of this as an idea for a sexual game show…”Find That Cock!”…but before I get too far along the giggle path, I swallow down the laughter, and try to find a way through the pants, and the tighty whitey’s under them.

This is not an easy task, and several times I raise my head and stab my Master with my “annoyed” look. He raises his brow at me, a clear sign that I’m crossing the line. At long last, I get the angle right and am able to capture his flaccid cock with my tongue, and lips, and gently…oh, so gently….suck it up into my mouth, tugging it free of the confining clothing.

He makes a ‘hmmmmm’ noise deep in his throat as I release him to catch a breath; moments later  my lips wrap around the soft, warm head. He shimmies his hips a bit, shifting. For just a moment, I lose my grip on him, and feel that slippery shaft almost slide away from me. I slip my tongue under the top of his cock, cradling it in my mouth, and gently suck on it. How odd, I think, to have another man’s cock in  my mouth.  I close my eyes and picture You looking at me, Master. I want to make You proud of me,  to be Your obedient slut. I  am desperate to prove myself to You, and to him. I want him to see what a good slut You have created. I suck and he hardens in my mouth. As I slide him deeper, as  my mouth takes  the length of him, I gag  a bit, then remember Donna’s trick.

How neat…it works, and he goes deeper into my throat.  Pulling back, sucking gently, trying to not fuck up, I make pleasing this man, Sir M, my sole focus.  I pull my mouth up his shaft, my lips leaving a red trail of streaks from my lipstick along the length of him.  Without a word, he pops the head out of my mouth.

I look up at him, then at You, Master,  with questions in my eyes. Have I done something wrong? He grabs his cock and jerks it hard a few times, until he moans and his juice jets onto my face. He sighs, leaning back and panting for a moment. Then, his hands search for me. His fingers find my face;  he rubs his cum over my cheeks, my hair, my forehead.

I am grossed out. I am turned on. And I can’t help but wonder if you will kiss me later with another mans jiz on my face. You untie my hands, and bid me to rise. My stuff is on the bed and You tell me to change into my slut-gear…but just my stockings.

Wait……I have to be naked?

Yes, he’s blind but still… I say nothing, but You know me well enough by now that You know exactly what I’m thinking. You give me that “do it now, slut” look.

Slowly, I  disrobe. You see my reluctance, and smile -a  bit of mind torture obviously pleases you. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I slide my hose up my right leg, then my left, then slip on  the garters to hold them in place. You pass me the red shoes, wordlessly. They slide onto my feet as if made for me.

The moment they are on,  You pull me to my feet.  Pinching both nipples at the same time,  leading me a few steps around the room, You’re grinning as I’m moaning. You ask me where my clamps are, “n’est pas?”

I tell you and You find them, and put them on the window sill.  The window sill, Master? OMG! I  know they will be so fucking cold when You put them on my tits. Sometimes I forget what a sadist you are…and this is a pretty mean trick, Master!

And yet……… I smile because…well…because I really like that about you. You want things Your way…and have the dominance to make it so. I crave that. Just as much as I crave the occasional tender kiss, I crave the raw, down and dirty meanness that You sometimes throw my way. It feeds me.

Sir M rises. You leave me, and lead him to where I stand, naked except for hose and heels.  He begins to explore me, his hands touching, feeling, exploring me. Weighing my tits in his hands, slipping around behind me to cup my ass, feel my pussy. I feel as though he is measuring me…and of course he is.

“Good,” he says to himself.  He places a hank of rope around my neck, and he begins to work, tugging rope here, there, around under, over. He ties my tits hard and tight. I grunt from time to time as he pulls and tugs. I lose movement, as he wraps one wrist, the other, behind me. I’m girdled in rope, tightly coiled. I can breathe, but I can’t move. He tugs me forward. My feet work. But I feel my head slipping into that “other place.”

My tits begin to swell and ache from the bondage. The rope is rough, his hands are smooth and warm, an interesting contrast.  And then, he threads a rope through my pussy, a knot placed precisely over my clit. In seconds, I am moaning.  He tugs me forward a step, and I feel the movement everywhere, from aching tits, to throbbing clit. His hand is on my belly, feeling the rope move as I do.

“Good,” He says again. “Almost done,” he says, and I am aware he is speaking to You, Master, and not to me. I am the canvas. I hear You move behind me. You surprise me by putting a mask over my eyes, shutting away the world, and any chance I might have, to prepare for what happens next. I feel a swat, the sensation heightened by my painfully bound tits. I feel my nipple swell and tighten.

And in a moment it hits me what is coming next. I hear the clink of the chain, feel the bite of it on one swollen nipple, then the other. I was right, Master. The chain is cold, very cold, bouncing around my belly. You’re so fucking mean, Master!  I shiver, feeling my nipple pearl tighter, making the clamp bite deeper.

Oh. OUCH! You *knew* this would happen, I just know it.  I am whimpering now.

I hear that satisfied laugh. It’s soft, and low, almost a growl. It is Your pleasure-laugh, Master. It warms my heart to hear it…and makes me quiver for what You are planning next.

I don’t have long to wait as you slap my tit. I am a sucker for this kind of pain, but the ropes make everything even more. There are whimpers. Tears. The sound of toys hitting titflesh, the sound of low-conversation between You and Sir M.

I feel his hands gliding over me. Feel the pinch as He tugs at the chain, and the cold slap of it as he drops it again.  His fingers move between my thighs, pressing on the knot over my clit.

“You’re right,” he says.

I think to myself…”This isn’t news, Sir M….Master is always right!”

“She’s soaked.”

I hear the amusement in his voice. I’m not sure whether to be embarrassed or proud. The ropes begin to loosen and fall away.

“Almost time for part two, slut,” You murmur in my ear. “Your ass is mine, always…but your pussy? Well, I think Sir M has plans for that…”

Titslapping

It was a thing that she had never dared to do. The monthly munch often had contests, and she had thought from time to time of trying them. But she didn’t have a regular Dom, she didn’t have a big “exhibitionist” fetish, and she wasn’t at all into public play.

She could blame it on the drinking, maybe. The weather was cold and raw and wet, the week had been long and frustrating and busy. Here, at last, was a chance to unwind and just be. Not the good little office machine…but just a woman.

Okay, a slut, but still a woman.

The sign on the door had made her roll her eyes.

“A Tip for a Tit”

Tit Contest Tonight!

Are you “sub” enough to submit to titty torment? Are you Dom enough to make them squeal?

Sign up at the bar!

(all proceeds donated to Breast Cancer Research:

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month!)

She’d had a drink. And another. And the fine print under the sign read “all proceeds to go to breast cancer research”.  And somehow her name and a $20 bill had gone across the bar to Mick, who had collected both with a smile and a “good luck, lass!”

Which explained why she was standing here, hands tied behind her back and her shirt neatly folded over them. A Domme paced before the group,  gearing them up. She’d flick a nipple here, encourage good posture there.  Twelve women, all the same as her, wrists bound, tits thrust forward. A crowd had gathered, and Jess didn’t know if it was the giggles and pointing, or the drinks, but she felt a rush of lust between her legs that shocked her.

She was not an exhibitionist!

The Master of Ceremonies, Sir Malcolm, came to the front of the stage to face the twelve women.

“You have chosen of your own free will to submit?”

Twelve heads nodded nearly simultaneously.

“You have all paid the price of admission, and I thank you for your donations. Soon you will pay an even dearer price,” and he turned to the audience with a snicker. They laughed.

“Bids have been taken from Masters and Mistresses who have chosen to winnow you down from the twelve, to the one. The One will receive a special prize, but I won’t go into detail now. You have chosen to submit…and so you shall.”

He paused a moment, looking at each woman carefully.

“The safeword for tonight’s contest is RED. R-E-D. Got it? When you’ve had enough, bow out by saying the safeword. You can safeword at any point in the contest. The contest is over when the last of the two safewords. Understood, subgirls?”

Again, all twelve heads nodded, nearly at the same time.  She almost rolled her eyes, a dozen dumb sluts- it was the makings of a joke, somewhere.  Yet there she was, smiling and nodding along with the rest of them.

Okay, it was more of a grimace. What the fuck had she been thinking? Geezuz. Blame it on the alcohol, but when she saw the first Dom step up with the wicked-looking riding crop, it shocked her sober.

He went down the line, smacking each tit firmly. Twelve girls, 24 quick slaps of the quirt. And He paced back, hitting a bit faster, a bit harder. Two girls down from her, a tiny-breasted brunette gasped as He hit her nipple and yelped “RED!” loud enough to be heard in Wisconsin.

Clarissa almost rolled her eyes. Yet, everyone’s pain was different. Mistress Nyte released the sub, catching Clarissa’s half-frown and winking at her, out of view of the audience. The crowd had doubled, avid eyes staring at the women bound on the stage. All of them had pink slashes on their tits. The Master was allowed one more forward and return trek across the stage. She hissed a terse ‘fuck’ as he struck her nipple firmly, and felt the answering jolt in her pussy.

She’d always been turned on by nipple pain.

Each Dom or Mistress had paid for a chance to titty-whip the volunteers on stage. One by one they dropped subs, some trying valiantly to not cry, others holding their beaten boobs as they went off-stage, drooling snot and tears down their faces.

Clarissa hissed as a Domme hit her hard, cross-hatching over her first pass. There was no rule as to which tit, or how many blows they could land as they moved down the line, and this Domme had hit her quite a few extra times.

The proof of that lay, not only in the red cords of welts, but in the trail of sex juice that was leaking from her in a steady stream. She’d had two orgasms already. The Domme leaned close to speak into her ear.

“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? Cumming like a slut all over the stage floor? Tsk.” With a smile, she struck hard across Clarissa’s left nipple, rousing a surge of lust and a loud yelp from her. Blessedly, she moved on, finishing her pass on the stage.  A loud moan at the far end of the group made her look down there. She was surprised to see that there were only four girls left, including herself, and one was even now safewording out.

“REally?” drawled the Domme? “Say it again so all can hear you, girl.”

“Red.” Her voice faint with pain, the blonde at the end with what had to be triple E knockers gave up. There was a rousing cheer for her effort, as she was escorted from the stage.

“And then there were three.” Sir Malcolm faced the audience, waving at the three girls with a flourish.

“Shall we take bids on which one leaves first? Silent bids please, and the girls will now be blindfolded.” At his words, three of the participants slid blindfolds over the remaining sluts, blinding them to the proceedings.

Clarissa hated blindfolds, she much preferred to see what was coming at her. But she wasn’t writing the rulebook here. There was assorted shuffling up on stage, and the sudden and shocking feeling of a fiery explosion on her right tit.

She yelped, even as she was struck again.

“Fucking ass!” She hollered. There was a second of shocked silence, then hilarity as her words were repeated. She heard feet, and another girl yelling. And the third girl, once struck, crying “Red, RED, RED!”

How was it even possible that she was one of the two finalists? The thought came and went as a series of slashes against her thrust out tits took her breath away.

The orgasm was vibrant, and vocal. She was lost in sensation, even as fingers came to touch her.

“What a slut you are! Dirty girl…cumming all over my stage?” He spoke quietly, but she recognized Sir Malcolm.  Another sharp blow made her cry out in a sharp ululation of pain. Then he moved off and she heard the other girl cry as well. She wasn’t sure what the fuck he was using, but it fucking A hurt!

And suddenly, the other girl cried out “RED! FUcking RED!”

The crowd was wildly chanting, and hands came and tangled in her hair as her mouth was resoundingly kissed. A hand rubbed at her pussy as a tongue claimed her mouth, and she came, hard against the probing fingers. That hand rubbed her wetness on her tits, making the welts sting.

Her hands were freed, and her blindfold removed.

“Congratulate our winning slut! Thank you for your generous donations; we’ve raised $1000 for breast cancer research. A portion of that is going to buy wax for several of the whips used tonight…”

The crowd laughed. Sir Malcolm had a way of making everyone happy.

“and you, my dear little slut,” He looked down at her, “have won an evening with me as your boon companion.”

She swallowed hard. Sir Malcolm was a very  popular fixture at these events. And he was going to stay with her? And here she’d been thinking about leaving soon…

“Your obligations for tomorrow?”

She blinked. Tomorrow?

“I..uh…” Geezes, she sounded like a stupid teeny bopper. She was dazzled. And pain-high. And horny as fuck-all. Her brain had fallen out somewhere. She shook her head.

“I have no idea. I…”

He smiled down at her, tolerant.

“It was brave of you to come out of your shell that way and try something new. I’ve been watching you for quite a while. I would never have guessed that tonight would be your blossoming, but you did good, girl.”

“I’d like to take you home. Or to your home. Get to know you better. You never stay long at the play parties, or the munches, but I would like you to be my companion. That is your reward, little one. For coming out of your shell. For baring far more than your tits.”

Dazzled, she nodded up at him. Who would have thought that showing her boobs, and getting titty-beaten would have brought her to this place?

This she no longer “blamed” on the alcohol.

He pinched one bruised nipple, and lead her across the floor to the bar. Pushing her into a stool, he stood looking down at her as the bartender offered two glasses of wine.

“To new adventures, little one,” he said, his eyes intense. She smiled, tipped her glass to his, and sipped.

“And to fucking good times ahead, Sir,” she said impudently.

“Indeed,” He replied with a grin.

And pinched her nipple until she squealed.

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.

 

Sex Dreams

(this is what happens to a very horny slut when she hasn’t had an orgasm since Tuesday…hint, hint, Master….)

“I know, it’s terrible isn’t it?”

The hum fills the air, and the space between her open legs. Head tosses restlessly, while the legs try to move, try to close from the stimulating touch.

“Right there…oh, yes…can you feel yourself? You’re trying to push against it. Little slut, I know. You want more. Your head says ‘no’ but your cunt, your dirty little slutty cunt? It’s begging ‘yes, yes’. ”

The vibe is pressed hard against sensitive flesh. A garbled moan comes from a gagged mouth.

“Hmmm, yes, where pleasure becomes torture, I know.”

A chuckle fills the room, rising over the persistent hum of the toy pressing against her clit.

“I see you, you know. Squirming. You want to move away. Can’t. Tied too tight to close your legs and protect your poor assaulted clit. Your horny cunt, on the other hand, is drooling. Feel all that juice on the vibe? Oh, deny, deny. That’s not lube…at least, not my lube, you little whore. It’s your juice. You are wet, fucking wet. You can pretend, Mz. Prissy-pants, that you didn’t want this. Yet here you are, oozing cunt cream.”

“Here, hold this. Time for part two!”

His voice is cheery and her heart escalates. She cannot see what He is doing, the blindfold is tight. She feels the hum as he presses the tip of the vibe into her, braces the end against the mattress so she cannot push it out. The bed shifts as he moves away, then shifts again as he returns.

“There is always, always a price to be paid for pleasure, slut.”

For a moment there is only the sound of her labored breath around the gag, and the taunting hum of the vibe. A pinch on her tit, her nipple. His hands are sticky, and warm. The hard bite of something on her left nipple makes her groan into the uncaring rubber ball pressed deep into her mouth. Her wince allows a stream of drool to slide out the corner of her lip, and create a thick, wet trail down the side of her jaw to her throat. The hard slap against her other tit startles again.

“This first nip, ah, that one just gets a sip of pain. Pleasure and pain. So tasty. You’ll grow to love it, trust me. But this nip?”

There is a hard flick against her right nipple; despite her fear and rage, she feels it rise at his touch.

“This nipple? Gets lots of pain. We’ll start with two. But there will be more. Many more before I’m done with you.”

“OH, look. How very pretty, your nipple all perverted and pinched up like that. Luscious. And …oh, look how wet it is down here. A veritable river of cunt ooze. Tsk, what a dirty little cunt you are. Acting all high and mighty, no sex, first date. And here you lay. Open, cunt soaked, and wanting. You want to be fucked, I know. I see the lips of your swollen cunt, begging for cock. I’m not ready yet.”

The vibe is pulled out of her pussy, and pressed firmly against her clit. She growls, and tries to move away but she is bound too securely for movement. Her head flails, her fingers open and close into fists against the headboard. Her body thrums, her clit screams, her nipples throb. When he slaps the tit with just one clamp, she screeches behind the gag, screeches when he strikes it again. He slides the vibe deep into her pussy and fucks her hard with it. No words, just the hum of the vibe and the squiching sounds coming from her pussy.

She wants to fight it, but she feels it coming…coming…

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

(sex dream two)

It starts the moment i enter the room. His fist in my hair, as i step through the door, halting me in my tracks. I wince, and moan. It hurts, and it was unexpected. No tender kisses and hugs to reconnect. His hand, in my hair, violently, hard.

He takes my bag from me, my purse.

“The brush. Where’s the brush?”

I reach into the bigger bag, pull out the brush, hand it to Him.  I hear my bags hit the floor behind me, against the closed door. He tugs my glasses off, and pushes me forward. I hear him put them on the desk as he propels me to the bed. I have a blurry, fleeting image of the 2nd bed, covered with his toys, before He is pushing me, face-first, to the mattress.

His hand presses my back; i go to my knees. The fist in my hair tightens a moment.

“Stay.”

I nod; it’s a minuscule movement but he feels it. He lets go, and in seconds I feel cool air on my ass.

The first whap of the brush on my ass is incredibly painful and tears flood my eyes immediately, only to be wicked away by the bedspread. He hits me again. And again. Until I am crying into the uncaring bed. I hear the brush as He tosses it onto the other bed. It hits something with a metallic chink. Maybe SFCT or his belt?

He lifts me to my feet by my hair, spins me ’round, and kisses me hard as we fall onto the bed.

Dark Alley

raw, gratuitous, sexual violence ahead…mega dragons here today ~n~

“I said, shut the fuck UP, whore.”

He slapped her face, hard. His friend chuckled meanly, as he held her from behind.  A sock had been slipped over her clasped hands, then tied tightly around her wrists.

Its mate was even now being lodged inside her mouth. His fingers gripped her chin as he rammed it in. She coughed, gagging as she struggled to break free.

It was useless.

A strip of silver tape went over her mouth, making panic flutter in her chest. What if she coughed again? What if she vomited?

She tried to calm herself. The best way to survive now was to remain calm, to breathe slowly through her nose.

In.

Out.

In.

His hands grabbed either side of her shirt and jerked it wide, scattering buttons onto the dirty linoleum  floor. He leered at her tits, framed by her pink and lacy bra.

“oooh, slut is so pretty in her pink bra,” he crooned, before digging his hand into his front jeans pocket. He held the metal thing before her eyes, and with a snick the switch blade opened, narrowly missing her nose.

He waved it in front of her eyes, making her heart flutter in fear. She shook her head gently, ‘no’, and moaned, low in her throat.

Grabbing the bra roughly, he snigged the knife through the soft fabric nestled between her tits. Hooking his finger into one shoulder strap, he cut that, then the other. With a few tugs, the remnants of her favorite lingerie hung on his fat and dirty finger.

Holding her eyes with his, he let the bra slip to the floor, then traced the knife along the swell of her left breast, poking the point into her nipple.

She moaned again, trying to arch away, but the man behind her held her tightly. If she survived this, she would have terrible bruises on her arms. Already she felt her flesh hurting under his uncaring grip.

“Scared, whore?”

She shook her head. She was not a whore!

His eyebrows shot up and he traced a pattern on the other breast. A thin line of blood appeared, and she would have gasped if she’d not been heavily gagged. It took a moment for the pain to hit. It wasn’t a deep cut, a scratch really, but she was bleeding,  dammit!

Yet she remained still. Fighting now would only ensure that he hurt her worse. How she hated the smell of him.

The onions that he’d eaten for lunch, maybe days ago.

The smell of urine that wafted up with every movement.

He was dirty, and disgusting, gross.  The hands squeezing and tormenting her tits were grubby with grease, the nails black with it.

“such sweet titties. Gonna have a good, good time with these titties.”

The guy behind her was just as gross. His tongue slurped along the side of her throat, up into her ear. His spit wet her, filled her ear. He bit her earlobe, pulling on it the way a dog tugs meat off a bone.

Impatient now, they worked her jeans open, then tugged them down and off, along with her sneakers.  One of them dug in her pockets, grabbing the $20 she’d put in there.

She had just run down to the market for teabags and milk, dammit. They’d grabbed her at the edge of the alley, so close to her destination, and yet so far. They’d pulled her through a door jigged open, and along a dimly lit hallway, and into a room.

“Seen ya coming back and forth for the last few months, whore. Knew that someday we’d get to be in the same place, same time. Aren’t you a lucky slut, getting to play with the big boys instead of those wimpy men you fuck around with?”

She didn’t know how they knew all this about her. She’d only moved here about 3 months ago.

The slap on her tit was hard and brought her attention back to the man with the knife.

“Too bad we had to plug up her mouth…bet she gives good head,” laughed the guy holding her.

“That’s okay, our little whore has two other holes we can use. We’ll have to rock-paper-scissors to see who gets to fuck this sweet little hiney first, won’t we?”

She shook her head, grunting behind the gag.

No! no no no no no!

No one had ever … no!

She struggled, but the man behind her dug his fingers into her upper arms. She tried to kick, but the guy in front stepped in, pressing against her. She couldn’t move.

She twisted and tried to knee him.

His hand grabbed her hair, pulling her head towards her shoulder. His grip pulled her roots, and she would have screamed had she been able to.

“Don’t fuckin’ try that again, you fucking bitch-whore.”

Releasing her hair, a few strands tangled and pulled away from her sore scalp, drawing tears. The slap on her cheek jolted her head to the side.

“I like the way she wiggles when she fights” said the unseen man behind her. He ground his crotch against her ass. The denim was rough, and the rasp of the zipper scratching tender flesh made her wince.

It only took moments before she was tugged across the room to where a stained mattress lay pressed against the wall.

There was the sound of zippers being lowered. The man in front of her barked at his friend.

“Hold her.”

Then he lay down on the mattress. His cock jutted out from his open fly. It was fat and long.

“Come to Daddy,” he crooned, with a rancid laugh. She was shoved, hard, from the man behind her, and she fell forward, unable to stop herself.

He caught her and lowered her to his chest. His legs kicked open hers, and the man behind pressed her down as she struggled to get off. In moments her pussy was being stuffed with his dick.

She shook her head, she moaned and cried. Little sound passed through the gag, but he laughed at her whimpers.

“Little kitten here is meowing for her dick,” he laughed. His hips bounced as he buried his length inside her. His fingers bit into her hips, holding her there.

In seconds she felt the man behind her pressing his cock into the cleft of her ass. His hands pulled the globes of her ass apart and she heard him spit. The hot wetness hit her just above her anus.

She screamed but to no avail. His finger jabbed into her tight-puckered asshole, spreading his spit, tugging the recalcitrant hole open.

“Give me your ass, whore, give my cock your tight shithole,” he growled as he stretched her.

She fought, clenching hard, but that only made the man under her, who’s cock was buried in her pussy, laugh in delight.

“She’s fuckin’ milking my cock, tryin’ to keep your’s out,” he chortled. “You’re between a fuckin’ rock and a hard dick, whore,” he giggled. She tossed her head, tried to fight, but seconds later, she screamed as the second cock invaded her body.

It hurt. His cock pressed hard and deep. For a moment she prayed for it to end, for them to kill her and be done with it. The throbbing was intense and terrible. She was so filled down there that she thought they were ripping her apart.

She may have blacked out for a moment or two, fighting for precious breath.

She woke up to the man under her groaning in delight as the cock in her asshole sawed in and out of her.

“So fuckin tight,” he growled. “so good, jeezuz her asshole is like a fucking furnace, it’s so hot. What a good fuckhole…oh man, I’m gonna cum. Got that whore? I’m gonna blow a wad of fuck-juice up your shitpipe. ”

She felt his cock pulse, though she didn’t feel the surge of his seed inside of her. She cried out in shock as they rolled, still buried in her body.

In seconds, the man in her pussy began to fuck, brutally shoving his cock deeply into her belly. She grunted through the gag with the force. His hands grabbed her tits, using them like anchors, tugging and twisting them with every surge of his thick tool between her legs.

The cock in her ass had been deflating, but the fucking was beginning to stir it to life. Her ass began to stretch again as his rod grew harder, thicker. He was moaning against her ear, his breath so disgusting she wanted to vomit.

The feeling of his cock growing inside of her made her tremble. Horrified, she realized she was going to cum. The cock in her pussy was hitting that spot that her boyfriend never managed to hit. He was deep-thrusting, and so large that every pull rubbed her. She came, back arching, in one of the most violent orgasms of her life.

He stopped, staring at her in amazement.

“You really are a fucking whore, aren’t you, cunt? What a little piece of fuck-meat you are. Fight like a prima donna, then cum like a whore.”

He pressed harder and faster then, even as the man in her ass trembled through another orgasm. She felt it then, the wetness leaking from her holes, as she, and they, squirted over each other. She fainted.

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

She woke slowly, body throbbing. She touched her pussy. It was wet, and sore. She ran her tongue around her dry mouth, and coughed.

Blinking, she saw that she was behind her apartment building, behind the dumpster. She was naked. Feeling around the ground in a panic, she found the tattered remains of her shirt, and her keys to her apartment. Her jeans, her money, gone.

There were no lights on in the building. It was late. She rose to her feet, unsteady. Grabbing her shirt, she pulled it on. It didn’t cover much. She made a dash for her apartment, praying that no one would see.

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

He looked up at her as she slid into the apartment. His eyebrows raised as he sipped his beer, and looked her over.

“So…?”

She smiled, crossing to him, kissing him hard.

“Thank you, Master.”

Suspended

She fought at her bonds futilely. Her wrists were tightly bound together, and even as she struggled again to try to pull them apart, they were seized, tugged firmly upward. Something cold was slipped between her wrists, hooking onto the rope bindings. The sound of  boots moving away across a wooden floor, then silence. A clicking sound cut through the air harshly, and she felt her arms begin to rise. She pulled and moaned through her gag, but slowly, inexorably, her arms were pulled taut until they were fully over her head, outstretched.

She knew she’d been flirting with fire when she came on to her History professor. There were rumors about him. He was a dangerous man, into kinky and weird stuff. Well, those were things she was very interested in learning about. History? Fuck no. Required for her Liberal Arts degree, yes, but interesting, no. No, it was the Prof who made her come to class each day.

She’d known the paper on Medieval Tortures of Sexual Perversions would get His attention. He’d smiled at her in a very…nerve wracking way. He looked into her eyes, and deeper. Probed at  her thoughts with his questions. Finally, he told  her the options. She could rewrite the paper. Or he could suspend her for a night. No brainer. No way was she rewriting the fucking paper.

“Fine,” she’d tossed at him, playing the coquette. “Suspend me!”

He smiled. That smile made her very nervous. And very wet. When he told her to meet him at the corner market, she agreed.

She remembered her feeling of victory as she climbed into his car, her 5 inch heels and fishnet stockings catching his eye, and his sexy grin made her heart pound with excitement. 

Now here she was. She knew she wasn’t alone.   He was somewhere in the cavernous room. The silence was the worst, she thought. Her arms ached. She felt eyes on her, but nothing happened. Finally, a sound wafted to her straining ears….a soft thunk, like a chair coming to rest on all four legs, and then faintly, the shifting of feet. Abruptly, the footfalls became louder. He wanted her to know he was coming for her.  Her heart raced.  What next?  She shifted, trying to ease the pain in  her feet and shoulders. The heels she’d worn to the meet were impossibly high, not meant for standing for untold minutes. They were meant for fucking.  Heels on shoulders, tied to a bed, yes, but for standing, no way. 

She felt the heat of him. He was tall, she knew that. She pictured him in her mind. Dark hair, silvering at the temples. Strong face. Hands. Oh, those hands. Large, powerful. His hands dwarfed hers and the control he had of himself and his power…mesmerizing. Hadn’t she watched, spellbound, as he sat on the edge of his desk and lectured?  Watched his muscled legs as he walked across the lecture stage? Tried to see the outline of his cock as he stood there, explaining about sharecropping and early wars?  Boring shit, but oh man the Prof was one hell of a stud.

 Had she really thought at all, before getting into his car and letting him blindfold her? Had they spoken much beyond “yes Sir”? to his command to get in the car? Panic had her memories fogging. Had she told anyone where she would be?

She felt the barest touch of a finger against her nipple. Her damned betraying nipple.

“You must be very afraid by now, kitty cat,” came his low voice. It continued, soft, silky. Molten chocolate with a hard center.

“The pulse beats strongly here,” and she felt his fingertip move from her nipple to the hollow at the base of her throat. She swallowed nervously. “And yet, here,” and his finger once more pressed her nipple, “and here,” as he switched to her other nipple, “your body betrays its lust. Does fear make you wet, kitty cat?”

The finger left her nipple, and she felt a tug at the zipper on her skirt.  Frozen, she could only stand there, knowing he would find her wet. She could feel it leaking slowly from her, gilding the tops of her thigh highs with her lust cream.  The skirt was tugged from her, then each foot raised gently to remove it fully. The sound of the fabric being folded came to her, as his footsteps moved away. 

His finger came to prod at the opening between buttons on the front of her blouse. She felt the heat of the probing digit against her skin. She’d assumed that he would dive right into her cunt and torment her about her needyness.  So much for assumptions. A second finger joined the first in the small opening.  With a suddenness that had her jolting, his fingers hooked on each side of her blouse and ripped it open roughly. Buttons flew around the room to dance on the floor and she gasped through her gag and tried to jump away. Of course, there was nowhere to go. He held onto the sides of her shirt like reins, pulling her towards him, until her now-bare breasts pushed up against his chest. Her nipples were tickled by his chest hair, and a long, low moan came from her center and poured out. His arms came around her, hugging and holding her tightly, as his mouth traveled down her neck, biting and licking the slender column of flesh. The silk of his hair tickled against her throat as his clever mouth traveled down the long expanse to her nipple. He sucked it deeply into his hot moist mouth, pulling it hard between partially closed teeth. The sucking, scraping and heat combined to weaken her knees and she was glad that he was holding her so tightly else she might have collapsed in a pile of melted woman at his feet. Deeper and harder he sucked at her breast, until her nipple was against his molars, and he began slowly crushing it. She felt the tormented nubbin growing bigger, swelling with the lavish attention he was paying it. Her moans now were of pain as well as lust, as his teeth worked over her bud. As he released it, he sucked again, and laved the abused flesh with his tongue. He felt her stiffen, felt the tightening in her lower belly and smelled the rush of fluids as she came. Tit orgasm. How delightful!

Leaving her now bruised and throbbing nipple, and releasing her from his crushing hug, she staggered. Her arms were deadweight, but the rope and pulley held her upright. She was staggered by the power of the orgasm he had released in her. From chewing on her nipple, my gawd. She felt the wetness from her pussy seeping through her  hose, the thigh and calves of her legs wet, and the smell, oooh, it was the scent of horny woman. She could feel the intensity of his look as he took in her disheveled state.

She heard him walk across the room, away from her. Click click click, she heard the sound. Tension still on her arms…dear god, he was taking pictures. They’d never discussed this! She tossed her head, protested through the gag. Useless. She heard him walk around her, the click of the shutter, and shuddered in embarrassment.  Again his boots receded from her, then came back. The sound was purposeful.

He came up behind her, and pulled her blouse up to the back of her neck. She could feel him tying it up behind her. Pulling her long tresses free of the tangle of fabric, she felt him caress her from her back to her ass.  She arched back into his hand, earning a sharp smack on her right asscheek.

“Not yet, kitty cat. Greedy girls never get all they want. And I am not anywhere near done with scaring the shit out of you.”  She heard the smile in his voice, and the threat. She shuddered.  Waited. Again the silence did it’s trick, and she felt small, vulnerable.

“Good,” he purred. “Very good. You realize that you are completely at my whim now. It’s about what I want, and what I will take from you, with or without your consent.” She felt goosebumps rising on her flesh at the implications of that statement.

She felt the cold sting on her left nipple. What? A feeling of something…an ice-cube! He was rubbing her nipple with an ice-cube.  At first it was just cold. Then the tingles became a throbbing as the chill intensified. The throbbing became vague, then sharp, when suddenly it was replaced by fire. His mouth and tongue began sucking and lapping at her frozen nipple, causing a confusing welter of sensations. She was freezing cold and consumed by fire! And she came.  As her body bowed from the force of her orgasm, she felt the ice cube begin to caress her clit. She gasped and moaned, dancing on tiptoes to evade the chilly invader, but to no avail. Cold ice and fingers pressed firmly on heated wet flesh. Her orgasm continued to spasm out of control as he played her. Fingers teasing nipples, hands squeezing tits, spanking her asscheeks to glowing embers, until finally, finally he released the gag and she screamed as her fourth, fifth? orgasm shattered her.

As she sagged into the ropes overhead, she felt him standing in front of her once again.

“nooooo, ” she moaned, softly. “can’t…please Sir, no more”….But her pleas were disregarded as he lifted her by her thighs, ordering her to wrap her legs around his waist and hold on.

His cock, large, throbbing and needy, rubbed against her wet, steaming slit. He guided the head of his aching cock to her channel, and with one firm thrust, he was inside her. She moaned, low and  gutteral, her head hanging forward. He rocked gently inside her, forcing her to another orgasm.

As he felt her clenching around him, he began to pull out and slam into her, rapid fire thrusts meant to bring them both to a shattering completion. Seven, eight, nine.  Teeth clenched, he pounded into her throbbing hole, as she screamed one long note, her forehead pressed against his, her arms straining to hold on for one more second.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen.  Dripping it’s molten moisture down his invading cock, the slurping wetness of her  pussy nearly undid him.

Fifteen, six….and her cunt clamped down on him so hard he thought she would break his cock off at the root.   He felt his cockhead pushing deeply inside of her clutching cunt, felt her squeezing him and pulling him even further inside of her. Her greedy cunt sucked at his cock, drawing the  first spurt of his cum from him. He  exploded  inside of her as his yell burst hoarsely, yet triumphant,  from his throat.

Later, after he released her from her suspension, they snuggled on his bed. Her wrists, still tied together, were over his head, around his neck, holding  him close. His knee rested firmly against her swollen pussy. It was so good when she was bad. He looked forward to reading  her next paper.

Under Contract

“Where are you going?”  he asked, his tone silky and smooth.

She mistook the silk for approval, missing the dangereous gleam  that danced in his eyes.

“I’m done. I just can’t do this….” she sighed, cast a cautious glance from under dark eyelashes, looked away.  “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

Had she chosen to look up just then, she would have shivered. His look was fierce, the hunter locating his prey. He crossed to her, taking one slim wrist in his large hand. She let it lay there, quiescent, thinking he would apologize, perhaps, for the error. That was her one mistake, she thought later,  or perhaps, deep down she had known. Known that nothing she could have done could have changed the outcome.

He leaned into her, taking her other wrist in his free hand. Swiftly, capitalizing on the moment she softened and leaned into Him, he pulled her wrists behind her, fastened them together before she knew what he intended.

Pushing her backwards towards the massive four-poster bed, he secured her wrists to the post behind her.

“what the fu…..”  her words were quickly stifled as he gagged her.  Next he tied a scarf around her head twice to blindfold her. She struggled and strained but could not break free.

He sat in the chair across the room, watching her. Admiring her heaving tits. The drab sweater she wore did nothing to enhance her overall look, but nothing could hide the magnificent bounty of her breasts.  The flared skirt accented her gently rounded hips, and generous ass nicely. He liked a woman with curves. Not for him a model thin girl. He wanted a woman. This woman. He was pleased with her gumption. “Now it just wanted some….channeling,” he mused.

Eventually she stopped her useless struggles. She didn’t even know if he was still in the room. She moaned.  The sound was soft, ineffective at expressing her emotions, which welled and threatened to overtake her. Panic rose up, making her struggle once more against the bonds which restrained her.

“Shhh….” he came to her, leaning hard against her, pushing her back against the bedpost.

“All you will do is hurt your wrists…the leather will not loosen and the latches are very secure.” She felt his hand in her hair, tried to toss him off of her.

“You’re a feisty one. If you think your attempts to dislodge me will lessen my wanting of you, you are well and truly wrong, little girl” he admonished gently. He had thought originally to be harsher with her, teach her  of her place early. Remind her of the contract she had signed with his agency. There would be a time for that but for now, his prey needed soothing…and a lesson.

“in point of fact,” he continued in his best businessman’s voice, “your delightful tits are bouncing merrily against my chest. And I find it… ” he paused a moment, drawing it out….”quite charming. Titillating, perhaps” he said with a grin in his voice.

She froze.
Charming? Titillating? The fucking rude sonofabitch. Who the fuck did he think…” Her thoughts were cut off as she heard a distinctive snipping, which began as she felt him move off of her. Then the snicking of …scissors. Cutting. She felt cool air brush across her belly, raising a welter of goosebumps. His fingers, when they reached the soft mounds of her breasts  gently flicked across the generous mounds and continued cutting. With a final snick, the sweater was cut in two.

She protested through the cloth gag. Tossed her head. She felt his fingers against her cheeks. Saw him as he lifted the blindfold from her eyes. Her eyes blinked madly against the light in the room, tears rising. Her gaze met his, her wavering stare broke first as a tear slid from her, and slid slowly down her face. 

She watched him lean into her, felt his hand fisting in the hair at the back of her head, not giving her an inch to move away. Watched as his tongue came out and gently lifted her tear away. She shuddered, and felt her traitorous pussy begin to leak.

Still holding her hair, he began kissing and nipping from her chin, ever so slowly down her throat. He paused a moment where the pulse beat madly, licking, then nipped at her collar-bone. A long low moan came from her gagged mouth, and he felt the vibration of it in her throat as his lips lingered there.

Slowly he continued down her torso, until his chin was cupped by the “V” of her bra. He pulled away then, flashed the scissors in front of her, then proceeded to snip away the front of her bra. He held her eyes hostage during the procedure, his eyes full of mystery and promise, hers full of a longing she had never known before. 

Take me. Use me. Bend me. There in her deep green eyes, was the message he’d been wanting to see.  No promises made on parchment, nor contractual bindings were what he needed. He needed only this look, one of utter need in her eyes. He peeled away the cups of her bra. Replaced them with his hands. Squeezed. Harder. Had he broken eye contact he would have seen her tits begin to pinken under his firm grasp. He felt her nipples rise into his palms, pressing impudently for his attention.  Harder he squeezed her mounds, until her eyes slid shut and another, deeper, moan slid from beneath her gag.

Releasing her tits, he slapped first one, then the other. Her eyes flew open at the stinging blows. Another hard slap to each breast, flesh blooming into full rosy radiance, eyes half open and wincing. She did not pull away. Now she strained to get closer. Closer still. Her arms pulled out behind her as she leaned into his blows. He was watching, saw on her face that she was beginning to fly. His hand snaked up fast to grab her throat, push her back against the bedpost.

“NO! ” he barked at her. “There will be no cumming.” His hand stoppered her breath, until her head began to sag weakly. He released her throat, and removed her gag.

“Who owns you, slut?” he whispered into her ear.

Her voice was quiet. “you” came the response, a near-whisper.

His voice remained level as he asked again.

“you” Her response was louder this time.

“Who owns you, slut” he asked, a third time, his voice softer than a feather, his presence louder than a shout.

Her head rose. She flashed him a glance, eyes bright , and replied clearly

“You do, Master.”

That was a contract with terms they could both agree on.