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Hi Jamie Lee here. Why is it when guy’s watch sport they forget their partner’s even exist???

Sean always watches the football every Saturday and sometimes during the week. It is at these times i barely get a word out of him. I end up bored and lonely when the football is on.

So one Saturday Sean sat down in his chair waiting for the match to start in half an hour’s time. I took to the bedroom and lay on the bed. I was feeling horny & frustrated. So i got off the bed and stripped off my pyjama’s. Standing there naked my 38DD’s jutting out proudly i opened the container at the foot of the bed. I scanned all the lovely bondage gear we have. I got wet at just the sight of it.

I grabbed an open carry box and put in a load of neatly coiled rope. I rummaged about the box. I decided to put the large red ballgag in the box as it completely fill’s my mouth silencing me at the same time. I added a flogger, a crop and a pair of clover clamps were also added. A leather blindfold that buckle’s at the back and finally the Hitachi wand.

I took the opportunity to spray my favourite perfume. I put on a flimsy bath robe i have and quietly entered the living room putting the box down on the table. şişli escort I walked softly until i was standing in front of the tv. Sean looked at me and i untied the robe an let it slide off my shoulders. I folded my arm’s behind my back and parted my leg’s standing there my submissive nature shining through.

“Master” i said softly. “could you please…… tie me up?”

Sean looked at the box on the table & smiled. Sean rose from his chair a raging hard-on evident in his jean’s. He picked up one of the ropes and wrapped around my folded arms tying a double knot when done binding my arms together. He took another rope and wrapped around my body under my breasts and above before tying it off behind my back.

Another rope was threaded between both ropes and when pulled tight my breasts jutted out proudly squeezed between the 2 ropes. The loose ends were pulled over my shoulders and tied off to my harness at the back. He roughly grabbed my arms and the rope dangling down behind me and threaded it through the back of my harness pulling the rope up until my arms sat with my harness to which he knotted to the back of my harness.

More rope was wrapped around my waist and escort avcılar pulled down between my spread legs up through my lower lips and looped through the front of the waist rope then brought back down between my legs, the rope digging deeper into my loins. The rope was pulled tight and tied off at the back of my waist.

He fondled me tracing his finger around my most intimate areas. He tied a rope to the one of the eyelets he had installed above the window at ceiling height. He moved me over to it an tied the rope to the back of my harness. If anyone chose to take a closer at the gap between the curtain’s they would get an eyeful!.

My ankles were tied together and cinched in the middle then more rope below and above my knees. Sean put the Hitachi between my thighs and rested the head right on my crotch rope. More rope was tied around my thighs and cinched keeping the vibrator in place.

Sean went to the box and took out the ballgag. “Open wide”.

I opened my mouth as Sean forced the huge ball into my mouth and then tightly buckled the straps behind my head.

Sean approached me with the clover clamps and started pinching my already erect nipples then avrupa yakası escort applied the clamps causing a low deep moan as the clamps turned from a sharp bite to a delightful dull ache.

The last thing was the blindfold which was put over my eyes and buckled snugly behind my head. He turned on the Hitachi on the lowest setting and with a tug on my clamps he was gone. Probably sitting in his chair watching my discomfort.

I however was in dreamland. Bound tight, heavily gagged, clamps and the Hitachi tormenting me all the while i knew i was in the hands of a strong handsome master who loved me and loved putting me in bondage. I hoped he would use the flogger and crop on me whenever he wished.

I felt the setting being adjusted on the wand. He had put it on random tease mode my favourite. It would start at various intervals and bring me to the brink before shutting off denying me the climax i craved. This went on for the full 45minutes plus injury time in the first half.

I heard his footsteps approach me and the first stings of the flogger as it fell upon my bound body time and again with different intensity. I was loving every second of it.

Then i heard a whistle and my master was gone. The second half had started. It would be another 45 minutes at least before my master would come back to torment me some more.

Life is good and from now on i don’t think i will complain about football days anymore as long as they all turn out like this one……..

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Here, our protagonist Sophia finds enjoyment in being strictly restrained and made to swallow a deluge of cum as she is inducted into Flora’s scheme. If that tagline doesn’t appeal to you, you will probably want to skip this.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. I know that much of my writing is pretty “out there,” so it is good to know when people enjoy it.

This story contains depictions of nonconsensual activity. All characters are over 18 years of age.

***

Sophia startled awake — bright fluorescent lights stinging her eyes, a sterile scent like a lab. As her eyes adjusted, there were tiled walls, the glint of computer monitors, steel vats. It was only when she tried to turn her head that she realized she was almost completely unable to move — her neck, hands, elbows, ankles, and knees all immobilized by devices unseen, her clothes replaced by strict restraints.

“What?” she tried to say, instead producing something like, “Nhaah?” She was gagged, too. A ring of rubberized metal held her mouth wide open.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” came a voice from behind her. Sultry, arrogant, cloying. Flora. Her heels tapped against the tile floor as she circled around into view. Long auburn hair braided tightly down to her shoulder blades. Glasses with thick black rims. A white lab coat over a turtleneck sweater. A clipboard.

“Ngaah!” Sophia cried — an expression of dismay more than an attempt at human speech.

“Mmmm,” Flora continued, “you must be wondering where you are; isn’t that right, Soph?”

“Nnngh.” A whine.

“Don’t worry, darling, I’m happy to fill you in,” she smiled. “You see, this here is my little project. And since you were the only one to object to the execution of the Program, I thought it might be poetic if you were here to help administer it.”

Flora’s eyes lit up as Sophia’s heart sank. She was enjoying herself.

“Of course, the crux of the Relief Program was always clear — self-cleaning masturbators installed around the work campus; stress relief; lower rates of sexual misconduct. You were never a fan, were you? ‘Bad optics’; ‘coddling’; ‘misplaced funds’. Well, while you sulked, I was thinking of more important things. Namely, in this case — what to do with all the byproducts.”

Sophia whined again. Flora, you fucking pervert! she thought, struggling uselessly against her restraints.

Flora laughed. “Well, right now, the two of us are in Central Collections: the heart of the Relief Program,” she said with a grin, “and while you slept, the Program made its debut: activity commenced six hours ago. What you see there is the fruits of our labor.”

She lifted the pencil from her clipboard and pointed to a tank almost directly overhead. A slit of inlaid glass revealed a white liquid inside.

“About 4 liters so far. Marvelous.”

Sophia continued staring at the tank and saw what looked like a long clear tube, a couple inches in diameter, descending from it. The monitors on the walls seemed to indicate marginal rates of intake, flow parameters, pump statuses. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? she thought.

“Anyway, let’s get to your part in this, Soph.” Flora turned to look directly at her. “You see, I was thinking of ways that this byproduct — semen, naturally — could be used to support the success of the Program. We couldn’t just throw it all down the drain, I thought. But that was a short-sighted thought; what we really needed was something to encourage the participants: a mascot; a figurehead — someone that would make them feel like they were contributing to something exciting. Then it occurred to me: what is a drain, really? Could it not be exciting in its own right?”

She grinned, pressing her pencil eraser into Sophia’s cheek.

“Now, let me describe our mascot’s situation to you, Sophia,” she said, peering down over her glasses. “Her mouth is held open by this spider gag, as she may have noticed, and her head is snugly fitted into this round steel basin.” She gave it a tap with the ferrule of her pencil. “And soon, the other end of the tube from the main collection tank will be placed inside her mouth; then, on my signal, the flow of liquid will begin.”

She grinned cruelly. “Her job is simple, of course: to support the Program the only way I trust her to — by guzzling cum.”

“Nhaaaah!” Sophia cried. She couldn’t believe this was happening — but the tank was right there, the tube descending only feet from her head.

“And of course,” Flora continued, “she will be filmed. What is the point otherwise?” She motioned to a spot in the darkness beyond the fluorescent lighting: a little red dot.

“Nhaaaaagh!” Sophia shrieked. How could Flora do this!? How could anyone even dream up something like this!?

“Oh, don’t worry, darling,” Flora said, “we still have some finishing touches to do first, and those will have the side-effect of concealing your identity, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sophia was still fuming but found herself strangely beyoğlu escort calmed by this remark, her heart rate steadily declining. Could it be that the task itself wasn’t so bad? — that she found some part of it exciting, even? Fuck, she thought. The cold air of Central Collections teased her bare skin.

—

Flora walked away for a moment before returning. “Now, let’s go down the checklist, shall we?” she intoned, shooting a glance at Sophia before returning focus to her clipboard. She squatted to look at Sophia’s body. Sophia whined.

“One. Padded mat affixed to main assembly. Check.” A strike of the pencil.

“Two. Drain seated over central mound. Check.”

“Three. Drain’s ankles and calves fitted with shackle assemblies. Check.”

Drain? Sophia thought. Fuck, that is degrading. That’s Flora for you.

“Four. Shackle assemblies bolted onto base plate. Check.”

“Five. Drain’s hands fitted with padded steel globe mitts. Check.”

“Six. Mitts closed with heavy padlocks. Check.”

Sophia whined at this. “Hmm, fun, isn’t it?” Flora laughed.

“Seven. Steel cuffs affixed to drain’s upper arms. Check.”

“Eight. Cuffs locked closed. Check.”

“Nine. Steel lower back support extended and closed around drain at the waist. Check.”

“Ten. Lower back support locked closed. Check.”

“Eleven. Front and back halves of basin assembly closed around drain’s neck. Check.”

“Twelve. Basin assembly examined for seal around drain’s neck. Check.”

“Thirteen. Basin assembly locked closed around drain’s neck. Check.”

Fuck, thought Sophia again. Each one of these items seemed to further detail just how fucked she was.

Flora continued.

“Thirteen. Feet of basin assembly bolted to base plate. Check.”

“Fourteen. Recycling pump attached to basin assembly. Check.”

“Fifteen. Mitts chained to rings on underside of basin. Check.”

“Sixteen. Mitts chained to rings at front of base plate. Check.”

“Seventeen. Arm cuffs chained to rings on underside of basin. Check.”

“Eighteen. Arm cuffs chained to rings at back of base plate. Check.”

“Nineteen. Drain’s lower body examined to verify immobility. Tightened as necessary.”

Flora grabbed Sophia’s arm and jostled it. No movement to speak of. “Check,” she chuckled.

“Twenty. Drain catheterized. Check.”

“Ngaah!” Sophia pouted, breathing heavily. How had she not noticed that before?

“Well, we can’t have you peeing all over our facility floor, now can we, cum-drain?” Flora quipped.

Sophia whined again. The whole situation was so degrading. Nevertheless, something had twisted within her upon being called ‘cum-drain’ so casually — after fighting uselessly against her restraints — after learning that she was physically locked in. And there was the anticipation of the sordid thing that the name implied, still on the forefront of her mind. There was no denying it: she was turned on.

“Twenty-one,” Flora continued doggedly, now standing up in front of Sophia once again. “Drain fitted with head harness and spider gag. Check.”
              “Twenty-two. Harness locked shut. Check.” Another task already performed, another stroke of the pencil.

“Ah, here we are,” she said with a little sigh. “Twenty-three. Drain’s hair tightly braided near top of the head. Let’s do that.”

Flora circled back behind her, and soon the woman’s hands were roughly gathering her hair. A moment later, she was tightly interleaving the strands in a strict braid. Flora tied off the end when she finished; Sophia felt the taut thing pulling at her scalp.

Sophia pouted softly. “Check,” Flora said with satisfaction.

“Now: twenty-four. Braid of hair bound in rubber sheath.”

Flora was still there behind her, and Sophia felt her hair being tugged as Flora sought to wrangle it into something. When she was done, she felt soft rubber pressed against the back of her head.

“This is a peculiar thing,” Flora said, obviously in an explaining mood. “The goal was to create a device by which a braid of hair can be manipulated by a metal ring at its tip. To accomplish that, we designed this rubber sheath with a ring at the end; the end of the braid is wound around one side of the ring and clamped onto it; then, a number of bands running around the sheath are tightened to prevent it from losing its shape.”

She tightened those bands as she spoke, each zipping as it went. “All this, just to protect your hair, cum-drain. I hope you appreciate it. Check.”

Another pang of lust stirred within Sophia. Fuck, she thought.

No nonsense. “Twenty-five. Base of protective sheath fastened to head harness.” Flora’s hands made quick work of this. “Check.”

“Twenty-six. Metal weight attached to drain’s hair braid and left to hang outside basin.” Another easy task. Flora affixed a weight to the ring at the end of the rubber sheath binding Sophia’s hair and gently let it fall outside the basin, pulling Sophia’s escort ataköy hair taut towards its edge. “Check.”

“Twenty-seven. Blindfold fitted to drain’s face and fastened to head harness.” Flora appeared in front of her once again — maybe for the last time. Sophia could only watch as the blindfold of thick black rubber descended onto her face, blacking out her view of the facility, its indecencies. The thing was soft, comfortable. Better than being blinded by fluorescent light, at least, Sophia reckoned. “Check,” Flora said.

“Twenty-eight. Nose hooks inserted, fastened to head harness and pulled taut.” Sophia whined at hearing this. Was the need for even further humiliation really necessary?

“Oh, hush, cum-drain,” Flora said, her heels clicking against the tile as she walked off to retrieve the item. “Just think about how it will make you look. Depraved; submissive; receptive. A nice touch for someone with a job like yours, don’t you think?”

Sophia whined again, but there was Flora’s hand, already squeezing open her nostrils to insert the hooks, pulling her nose up, snaking the end into some part of the head harness, and fastening it shut. “Check,” she said. Sophia could hear the smile curling on her lips.

“Ah, here we are,” Flora said with a sense of finality. “Twenty-eight. Collection tank drainage tube inserted into drain’s mouth. Poetic.”

Sophia heard the rubber of the tube softly creaking as Flora manipulated it, pulling it closer until she could feel it rubbing against her face, angling toward her mouth. Then — there it was against her tongue, encroaching into her, threatening to reduce her to a component in Flora’s scheme, reifying everything it meant to be her cum-drain. “Check,” Flora said. The thing was resting on the middle of Sophia’s tongue. She knew the taste of rubber would soon be replaced by something much more perverse.

“And lastly: twenty-nine. Drainage tube prongs affixed to left and right sides of spider gag.” Her hands moved near Sophia’s lips and something clicked. “Check,” she said, sounding practically overjoyed.

Fuck, thought Sophia, sighing in resignation.

—

“Wow, you look wonderful, cum-drain.” Flora paced around to examine Sophia, her heels clicking against the floor. “I have a few things to explain to you before I put you to work, though.”

Sophia groaned, muffled by the tube in her mouth.

“Mmm, that’s right; I’m sorry, darling, I know you can’t wait.” Flora did always enjoy taunting her, but hadn’t frequently had to the opportunity to do it so openly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure that understanding everything will make your situation just that much more exciting for you.”

Sophia felt a pang of lust assault her once more. She had thought she hated Flora — why was she feeling this way?

“First things first,” she continued. “When I push this button, all that wonderful semen will come spilling down the drainage tube, destined for your throat. Of course, all you have to do is swallow it like a good little cum-drain. But — you may be thinking — what if you don’t?” Flora tapped on her clipboard with the ferrule of her pencil.

“Well, that’s where the basin around your head comes in, of course. If you let the stuff spill out of your mouth, it will obviously end up there, where the level will rise until there’s no avoiding the problem any further. That is to say that, ultimately, you have two choices: you can either gorge yourself on cum like a good little cum-drain, or you can drown in it. And I don’t think the latter option looks great for either of us.”

Sophia gulped. I really have no choice. Fuck, she thought. She felt something between her legs. Was the cold air against her vulva always so obvious?

“Next: your task will be complete when the main collection tank is empty — and not a moment sooner. Maybe you will pray for it to stop filling while you work to lower it, or maybe the opposite. Both sound good to me. You won’t be unlocked from this contraption until you’re done regardless.

“And subsequently, when the tank is emptied, you will be made to consume all of the semen remaining in the basin as well. In fact, when your neck is freed, you will be made to lick the thing clean. Do you understand?”

Sophia nodded weakly. She was really going to be Flora’s cum-drain — now, she was almost agreeing to it. Was that somehow even worse than doing the obscene thing itself?

“All of this will be recorded,” Flora continued. “The plan is to leak the video and make it look accidental. We expect reactions to be mixed at first, but based on our projections, the sympathetic faction will prevail. Ultimately, despite your state of restraint, they will see you as a desirous, cum-hungry whore, and they will rush to the opportunity to sate you, producing a marked increase in Program engagement as they do.

“Of course, the blindfold, nose hooks, and other elements will also hide enough about your appearance to maintain your anonymity, so as long mecidiyeköy escort as you don’t go around showing off your naked body, they’ll have no idea that their depraved cum-goddess is among them.

“Naturally, that means that you can continue to work here, in both your usual administrative role and also each evening — as my cum-drain — here in this facility.”

Sophia moaned, shaking in her restraints. Some part of her had already suspected, of course, that Flora had meant for her to continue in this role beyond this evening — otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone to such trouble designing and fitting this restraint for her — but hearing it out loud stirred something strange and erotic inside her. I’m really going to be Flora’s perverted little toy, she thought, the idea of defying Flora’s demand not even occurring to her.

“The rest can wait until after you’re done. Don’t worry; if that glistening cunt of yours is anything to go by, you’ll make a wonderful cum-drain.”

—

Click.

The release button. The sound of Flora’s heels clicking as she walked away. A beep, the doors to Central Collections sliding open and closed. Just like that, Sophia was alone, with only the quiet beeping of monitors and the anticipation of her sordid task to offer any semblance of company.

She heard the semen before she tasted it — its viscous form glomming against the rubber tubing as it spilled out of the tank, then trickling further and lurching down when enough had built up for its mass to overcome its adherence.

Then, slowly, it found its way into Sophia’s mouth, spilling onto her tongue; the first thing she was struck by was how strangely warm it was: a product of Flora’s system, no doubt. It was salty, viscous. She tested it against the roof of her mouth and found it sticking to her palate. This is strangely intimate, she thought.

But she would not have time to savor that intimacy; the warm cum kept spilling in through the tube, and gravity did not care whether she was enjoying herself or not, forcing it down just the same. Soon, her mouth was full of the stuff, and it had begun trickling into her throat on its own.

All right, here goes nothing, she thought, pushing her tongue up to take her first gulp. She shuddered as it slid down her throat. How much was that? she wondered. From what little she knew of the subject, it must have amounted to the ejaculate of a half-dozen or so men. She imagined a line of them standing there — her coworkers — having just finished in her mouth. What would they think if they knew where their semen had ended up? Of course, soon enough, they would. Her pussy grew wetter.

As Sophia’s mouth began to fill with semen once again, her thoughts turned to the last time she had tasted cum. When had that been, exactly? She had been single for more than a year, and even so, the last two people she had dated had been women, and the closest she’d come to tasting semen in those relationships was sucking on a strap-on.

Her college boyfriend, then? She hadn’t thought about him in years. She remembered he had loved when she would get down on the floor and crawl towards him almost ferally, urgently prying his erect member from his pants, slobbering on it until it twitched, looking him in the eyes as his cum oozed out into her mouth, swallowing greedily. Had she been putting on a show, or did she really enjoy herself that much? She didn’t remember.

A second gulp. What would he think of me now, if he knew what I was doing? she thought. Perhaps the same impulse that enticed him back them would drive him wild in knowing how she had been made into this worthless cum-drain. Then again, maybe he would be repulsed. That wasn’t hard to imagine, either.

Of course, there wasn’t just the cum, Sophia reminded herself. She imagined the image of herself completely immobilized in bondage — blindfolded; humiliated; unrecognizable; the fact that she had no choice but to swallow every drop of semen, that she would be locked in until she was able to complete that task. Why am I so fucking horny? she asked herself, knowing the answer.

Still the semen was unceasing; one mouthful gave way to the next, then the next, and soon enough she had taken ten or twenty good gulps, swallowing the warm cum almost habitually, moaning with each as the semen coated her mouth, the taste pervading her senses. When did I become like this? she thought. Did Flora do this to me?

Indeed, she was growing more turned on with each moment that she swallowed the obscene substance, each second of her ordeal deepening her relationship with her role, pushing her into her place.

Regardless, she quickly encountered an obstacle: she was starting to get full. To remedy this, she began to swallow more slowly, trying to take breaks in order to control her pace. This, however, was of limited usefulness: the cum spilled into her mouth all the same, each mouthful seemingly bigger than the last. Fuck, she thought, groaning in discomfort.

Even so, the onslaught continued, filling her more and more until she felt she had no choice but to use her tongue to block her throat completely. Still, the semen proceeded, indomitable, cramming itself into her mouth, stretching her cheeks, trickling slowly into her throat despite her efforts.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Imagine a very beautiful woman. One who turns the heads of men not only with her looks but also her conversational ability and you have my wife. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder but as my wife makes an impression on most men I think I am right. She is truly beautiful as she has a pretty face, warm smile and she has lovely large natural breasts and a sweet look fanny. This is all topped off with a softly spoken accented English which she uses to talk dirty to great effect.

When I first met my wife we had a very active sex life. We were very adventurous and she helped me explore fantasies and unlock doors I didn’t know existed. As time moved on she introduced subtle changes which I didn’t realise were happening until it was too late. Gradually the amount of times I penetrated her reduced in place of mutual masturbation and then she introduced the use of her dildo collection on her. In later months sex would revolve around her tooling herself with one of her rubber cocks and then asking me to first lick it and then suck on it to clean it of her juices. At the same time she would masturbate my hard cock wearing a leather glove and I have to admit that my level of arousal was very high. She later introduced more dirty talk adding in some phrases kağıthane escort of verbal humiliation such as, “I bet you love being my little gay cocksucker.”

The penny hadn’t dropped as to just how submissive I had become until one day when she said, “do you know what a Cuckold is?” I replied that I knew it was a term given to a man whose wife is serially unfaithful and is usually used to deride the husband. “Yes, and it is what you are,” she replied. I was quite stung by this but then I realised that the gradual change in our sex life over the past six months had been leading up to this. “I do love you, but I prefer dominating you and I know I can never get sexual satisfaction from just one man,” she continued with. As she spoke she reached down and started fondling my cock whilst continuing to talk dirty. “After all, you know you’re not longer the alpha male you were and nowadays you want to suck cock and swallow other men’s cum and I know this because your cock is twitching and getting hard right now as you think about taking another man’s big hard cock in your mouth and swallowing all of his cum.” As she said these words she was busy fondling my cock and making me hard and in my head I knew she was right.

A levent escort pattern then emerged in our sex life which I have to admit I do enjoy. She will pick men up at parties or clubs and bring them home. She warns me of her pending arrival by text allowing me to be ready for when they arrive. Sometimes when they realise they will not be alone with her they scarper pretty quickly resulting in us both laughing. The ones that stay have already been categorised by her. Few are her alpha males, men she allows to penetrate and fuck her leaving her pussy full of their cream which I have to clean out using my tongue. The others are more interesting as she considers them to be beta males like me; men who are not man enough to fuck her and instead must have their cock sucked by me.

She is very clever in achieving this as she doesn’t tell them what their fate is until they have undressed. She would undress too wearing her trademark over the knee leather boots, leather cupless basque and leather gloves. She would go behind them pressing her exposed breasts against their back and start to fondle their cock which would soon harden as she told them that I would suck their cock and they would blow their load into my mouth. Her seduction maslak escort technique nearly always worked as I know she saw the submissive side in all of these men that she had seen in me.

My ability to fellate another man has become very good and soon I would be licking the tip and then taking the shaft into my mouth. She is usually behind me talking dirty about how much I love being a fag cocksucker and how I want this man’s load. This turns me on and I suspect the man being blown is also turned on as a climax is usually quite quick in coming. She has confessed to me that this is her favourite moment as when she senses the climax she will push my head onto the spasming cock ensuring I swallow his load. “Take it all, swallow that cum, don’t spill any,” she will say tersely. I will struggle to swallow as the ejected cum will soon fill and overwhelm the small space already occupied by a swollen penis, I will usually allow the softening cock to withdraw enabling the hot salty cream to run to the back of my throat and then down into my stomach.

Finally there is one last act of humiliation for me. She allows me to have my own climax. She will wank my cock and when I am about to climax I will ask permission to shoot my load over her boots which she allows. I then move down to lick my own cream off them allowing it to join the other man’s in my mouth and tummy.

In six months this beautiful woman has gone from taking me from being as I thought an alpha male to being her own submissive gay cocksucker and I love it.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

After much trial, and error, and excessive planning.

It’s finally the night.

You arrive, and the room is a soft glow of candlelight. The music is the 8 hour tones we found that give you peace, that you’ve been listening to long enough now that your brain barely registers it.

The room is warm and the blankets are as soft as the light, and smell like me.

And I am there, standing in front of you. In a red satin robe. Under it is my new black skirt, with pink ribbons. And nothing else.

I’m looking directly into your eyes, steadily, drinking in your quiet regard.

“How I have missed you, sweet Slut”

I say, as I step toward you, placing my hands on your slim hips.

“Kiss me, I need that mouth”

Imperiously, I tilt my chin up. You brush a thumb along my cheekbone, looking down into my eyes briefly, before complying.

The softness I have created without, is nothing compared to our mouths coming together. Our lips parted slightly, caressing one another with breath and cheek, nuzzling like cats, before our hearts pick up speed. Suddenly our hands are entwined in one another’s hair, tongues clashing, and you’re kicking the door closed with one foot.

I shove you up against the door, not breaking the rhythm of our insistent kissing as I fist your hair in my hands, moulding my body against you, dragging your head further down, angling your head, sucking the breath from your lungs and moaning it back into your mouth.

I could kiss you for a hundred years and never grow sick of it. But feeling you grow hard against me excites me, and I break the kiss just long enough to tell you “Don’t stop kissing me but help me take your clothes off”

I’m unbuckling your belt as you kick off your shoes, my hands a practical blur and I unbutton and unzip your pants.

Palming your shaft through your underwear, it’s your turn to moan into my mouth, as my greedy hand squeezes and stokes you. Your breathing gets ragged and mine does too, and if I was wearing any underwear, they’d be wet through.

I drag our bodies apart and kneel to strip your pants and socks while you struggle out of your shirt, your natural grace for once deserting you.

I look up along your naked body, bared for me and me alone, and find you looking down at me in turn. Holding your gaze in challenge, I run the flat of my tongue from the base of your shaft to the head, and you capitulate, your eyes closing and your chin lifting, resting your head against the door.

I reward you, enclosing the head of your cock in my mouth, esenler escort sucking, swirling my tongue around, before releasing you.

I step back, and survey you, from that wet, swollen head to those wet, swollen lips. As I slowly undo my sash, I contemplate how profoundly you undo ME, in minutes.

I let my robe fall to the floor and watch your stillness. Your peripheral vision must be excellent, because my tits are on full display, and I know you love them, but your half open eyes are on my face.

“Bend over that table for me, Slut. I have many needs tonight and I want to plug you before you fulfill them.”

No hesitation, you turn to the table by the door and lay your upper body down on it. Such a good boy, I know that surface must be cold.

“Now my love, this is going to be uncomfortable,” I say, as I begin to lube the metal plug, green gem winking in the candlelight.

“We haven’t used one this shape before. It’s going to feel different. Invasive. Your heart will pick up speed and you’ll feel a minor panic. Control your response, focus on your breathing, and it will pass.”

Standing behind you, I stroke your back briefly, before kicking your feet apart.

I gently probe your tight little slut-hole with a finger, making quiet shushing noises when you jerk. I stroke my finger in your ass slowly until your body relaxes, and place the tip of the plug where my finger has left.

“Don’t brace yourself, my good boy, stay relaxed” I say, as I slowly push the plug inside you. “The worst part is coming, and then it will be done”

As the thickest part of the plug presses into your asshole, you groan restlessly. Then it is done. The thin base is far more comfortable, but you can feel the heavy fullness just beyond it, and I was right, it feels invasive, panicky.

I stroke down your back and croon at you, as you struggle to focus on your breath, on your purpose.

“Why are you here, Slut?” I ask.

“This is where I belong” You say.

“And why do you belong here?”

“Because I am yours. Only yours.”

You feel your panic leaching away. Now the fullness feels different. Impossible to ignore, but no danger.

I make you stand, ask if you’re okay, and tell you how proud I am of you.

“And now it’s time for you to get on your knees. Touching you has made me all wet and messy, and you’re going to make come.” I lead you to the bed, sit myself, and you kneel at my feet, the most beautiful man I’ve ever known. Made even more beautiful in submission. How escort etiler I love you. Mind, body, soul. You are mine.

I lay back and stretch my body out, and command you, “Pleasure me now Slut. I have been waiting so long. You always make wait so long baby.”

You slide your hands up my thighs, under my skirt, and I spread them, wide and wantonly, unashamed, wet and aching.

A polite boy, you kiss my wet lips before delving your tongue between them, a fast, sharp thrust that makes my whole body jerk with surprise. Your hands squeeze my thighs before spreading my lips apart, giving your full mouth access to as much of me as possible.

As long as I’ve been waiting for this, it’s only a few minutes of dedicated feasting before I’m gripping your head in my hands, rocking my hips up, facefucking you. You slide two fingers inside me and I cry out. I’m so close.

Your fingers and mouth thrusting in time to my hips, I call out your name loudly, brokenly, and come all over you.

My post orgasm bliss slowly falls away and I realise I’ve got my knees thrown over your shoulders, ankles locked behind your back. Your forehead is pressed against my inner thigh, your breath tickling.

I force my legs to release you and tell you, “Sit back and catch your breath, focus on the plug for a few minutes.”

I don’t have to lift my head and look to know you’ve obeyed, face and hands covered in my wet.

Once we’ve both recovered some of our equilibrium, and my body can once again tell the difference between up and down, I sit up and smooth my skirts and look down on you.

“That was very well done my sweet boy. So well done, that’s how you can wake me in the morning. Would you like that? To make your Goddess come for breakfast?”

You nod, docile, but your hands clench briefly on your thighs and I know you’re thinking about how you’d like to be doing it again, right now. It sends a shaft of lightning pleasure between my legs, deep inside me.

You are the only person my body has ever responded to so forcefully. I want to jump on you, but instead I get a damp cloth and wipe down your face, kissing your lips gently, and wipe down your hands too.

“Come lay down on the bed now, my love. I want to play with you for a little while before I ride you.”

We lay down and I drape myself half across you. Bracing my head on a hand, I look down on you while my other hand reaches between your legs. Lightly stroking your ass, pressing my thumb against the plug, watching your face as you gasp and fatih escort shift.

“Beloved,” I say, “Do you remember the time you told me the story about what our life could be? If I was your wife? You coming home from work, helping to put our babies to sleep, and then taking your sexy mummy to bed to worship her? Do you remember that story?”

You nod and frown a little, wondering where this is going. I press my forehead against your frown lines. Breathe in your breath and find my centre.

Pull on your plug a little, making those frown lines disappear and your back arch slightly. Press it back in, harder, pushing it up, against your prostate, covering your mouth with mine to suck your moan into me. Lean back.

“I’ve been thinking about that story every day for a long, long time, my little slut. Years. Every single time I think about it, it makes me excited. Shall I ride you and show you how much?”

You stare into my eyes and nod vigorously, knowing you’re about to be ridden harder than you ever have in your life.

I sit you up against the bedhead, plug firmly pressed inside you, invading you, making sure you are constantly aware of how deeply you are owned.

I grip your chin in my hand, and cover your mouth with mine. Opening your mouth, running my tongue over yours as I press the head of your cock against my entrance. Our bodies pressed flush against one another.

Trying to hold the kiss, as I press my hips down, and your shaft slowly fills me, and we both moan. Your hands automatically reach for my hips, and mine go to the headboard, as our bodies take over, your hands rocking me down and your hips straining against my thighs. We fall into rhythm effortlessly, as it has always been. Our pace increases and we are both falling into the space where we become lost. You say my name and I feel the orgasm sparking in me.

Now I have to find my voice and it takes me seconds longer than usual for my thoughts to coalesce.

“Baby”, I moan, “The reason. Oh god, fuck. The reason I mentioned your story. Fuck, Slut, oh god. Baby. The reason. Look at me.”

I pull your head back by your hair as our bodies thrust together, harder and harder. I’ve only got seconds and so do you.

“I want that life Slut. Oh, fuck. I want it. And baby, baby, I’m ovulating. Oh god, please, come for me baby. Fill me up”

My back arches and I’m coming so hard I can’t feel the world. Only you. Both of us crying out, I feel you coming too. And it fills me with more than just cum. It fills me with joy, with peace, with satisfaction. It makes my brain feel blasted to a million pieces.

Owning you is the best gift I’ve ever been given. Your penetration is our communion. My orgasm my prayer and yours my answer. It’s the closest thing to Divinity I’ve ever felt. And I’ll never, ever let it go.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Louetta here. This is Boudica Part 08. Everybody mentioned in this story is at least eighteen.

So far in this series I’ve spent part of the summer working in Amsterdam at a BDSM club with my Dutch female cousins. My goal is to get into video and film work and I wanted to get experience performing in the nude. Just lately I met members of the German BDSM organization Das Erwachen and much admired the women, especially one named Tilly, the prototypical Erwachen girl. She agreed to help me gain membership in Erwachen.

Tilly proposed me as a new member and the top two local Erwachen officials, both men, agreed I would undergo a trial in which they could evaluate my potential as a club member. Tilly informed me privately that the trial would test my ability to endure BDSM challenges, but also to test my sexual willingness. That wasn’t a problem, I was willing to do just about anything in order to join Erwachen. In the last chapter I began my trial by being stripped, undergoing some mild torture, and blowing four men I didn’t know. Then I was left bound naked under a large four-poster bed on which lay only a king-size mattress covered with a single white sheet. The four corners of the bed were outfitted with bondage cuffs attached to ropes, each in turn attached to winches screwed to the bed, which were used to spreadeagle girls for sex and/or torture. In my case that meant getting a train run on me.

But first I was going to be forced to lie under the bed and listen to another girl suffering the same fate on the bed above me.

It was sometime after one AM. I was determined to go ahead with whatever sexual activity was necessary to get into Erwachen and only wished they’d get on with it. Exactly how many guys were going to do me as a part of this train that they were going to run on me was unknown, but there was supposed to be an Erwachen limit of four guys for intercourse, unless the girl agreed to more, which I would have if they’d asked me. Anyway, I tried to steel myself for the worst. I think I waited there for an hour before suddenly I heard a commotion. From underneath the bed all I could see were feet. As best I could make out there were eight pairs: four male, all shod, and four female, three shod, and one the bare feet belonged to a prisoner the girl who was going to have the train run on her. Like all the Erwachen hopefuls she was young and pretty, with long blond hair, tallish, a bit on the thin side, nice tits, flat tummy, nice ass, long, shapely legs.

I recognized her, a Dutch girl named Lieke, age eighteen, same as me. Her birthday had been the day before, making her legal for Erwachen. She was kind of a street person who had been working at the BDSM club for some time doing odd şişli escort jobs like cleaning, sewing and running errands, things that an underage girl could legally do. No nudity or bare boobs like the stuff I had been doing. Mostly she slept nights in the bunny dorm. It turns out that the Erwachen guys, admiring her looks, had told her that she could join up as soon as she was legal. It also turns out that they had been telling her that her initiation would be some kind of torture, when in fact, just like with me, the main activity was to fuck her.

In any case, after she finished her shift and, having safely turned eighteen, she took the elevator, just as I had done, up to the third floor where the bondage activities for the paying public went on. She still had on her white uniform from work. There were the same three Erwachen girls who had awaited me awaiting her. Her wrists were bound behind her and she was blindfolded and was back on the elevator to be brought up to das Folterkammer, the torture chamber. They went up to the top floor, down the corridor, and stepped through a door which was locked behind them. They went a few steps further and entered a room. Lieke was frightened so badly she was afraid she might wet herself. She was, of course, scared because the boys had told her she was there for pain, when in fact she was there for pleasure, the boys and hers.

Of course, the first thing that had to be done to her in the dungeon, whether she was there for torture or sex, was to make her strip. But for Lieke getting naked at the club was a new thing, unlike the rest of us who at least had bared our tits as door bunnies. And now the three girls who had stripped me came forward to strip her. The cameras were turned on they proceeded while the guys watched.

“Take off your clothes,” one of the girls said softly, at first.

“What?”

“Take off your clothes!” This time more firmly.

“No, please. I don’t want to do this.” She looked at the guys looking at her.

“You take them off or we’ll hold you while they take them off.” She motioned to the boys.

“Please!” But she knew it was useless.

“Just do it, your shirt first.”

“No!” The guys approached and one grabbed her from behind and held her arms and the others started forcibly stripping her, pulling the front of her white uniform shirt up.

“Stop, stop, please! I’ll do it.”

“It’s OK, we just want to photograph you naked,” one of the girls lied.

“That’s all?”

“That’s all, now let’s start!” She still looked doubtful.

“Take off your clothes! All of ’em.”

“If you just want to see me naked that’s fine.” Of course it wasn’t true, but she started to undress and saw the nişantaşı escort boys watching her. She was not used to boys seeing her in the nude even now that she had grown into womanhood. She pulled up her shirt the rest of the way in front and then up over her head and off and one of the girls took it. She lowered her head as she could see the guys stare at her. She actually had a bra on, a part of her work uniform as she was only now eighteen. It was low cut and her boobs strained to be released, her nipples hard as rocks underneath the flimsy cloth. Her chest heaved slightly as her breath came quicker and she started to perspire. She could tell now it was a lie that they were going to let her go.

“OK, now the BH.” She reached around behind her and slowly unhooked the bra in the back and, just as slowly, pulled the straps down off her shoulders, which all but bared her boobs.

“Come on!” And she lowered the bra down to her waist and then her boobies were bare and the bra found it’s place on the floor and she stood there in front of them naked to the waist, her nipples hard as fat pencil tips.

“Now you’re going to let me go after you see me naked, right?”

“Yeh, we’re going to let you go. Now your yoga pants.” Slowly she lowered the waist band of her white work pants, showing in the front the waistband and the fabric that hid her genitals, and nothing in the back except the thin piece of cloth that went down from the waist band through the crack in her ass, which jiggled slightly with her nervousness.

“All the way down and off.” She complied and pulled her yoga pants down and off her feet.

“Now stand up straight!” And she did and showed herself naked except for her little white thong underpants. She could feel the wet between her legs and knew it showed through the sheerness of her thong underpants. Her bare legs were long and shapely, which gave her her height and made her nearly naked body seem slimmer and more delicate than it really was.

“I’m done,” she whimpered. “I want to keep the panties.”

“No, take them off now. We said everything or the guys will take them off for you!” And she did as she was told. It took a while, lowering them in the back first to completely bare her bottom, then down in front to show the little white triangle usually covered by her bikini, showing her shaved completely bare, displaying all the pinkness of her girlhood and the dampness that threatened by now to run down her leg. She watched the guys survey her naked body, her bare breasts, the whiteness of her skin, her long legs, her small but tight behind, the pinkness of her pussy. She felt the tingle in her body, the smell of sex from her bunny hole, the mecidiyeköy escort hurt of her nipples hard as rocks, the feel of her breath coming a little bit quicker and every inch of her screamed for release.

“Put your hands behind your back,” one of the guys said.

“Why?” He picked up a piece of rope and grabbed her hands, pulled them behind her back, and crossed her wrists. She realized he was going to tie her up.

“Why are you going to tie my hands?” He didn’t answer, he just started wrapping the white rope around her wrists. Tightly.

“I thought you were going to let me go.” She felt vulnerable indeed, scared, actually. He had this eight-foot piece of rope and was tying her and he could pull it tighter and make it hurt more. He crossed her wrists and put a loop over them and began tying them as tight as he could. And he was strong. It hurt and it was supposed to. He knotted the loose end double, a foot from the end, so she couldn’t reach it with her fingers and get untied.

“Why do you have to tie it so tight? You’re not going to get away with this!” They started pushing her into the dungeon.

“We’re going to have a little fun with you.” They were still telling her she was going to be tortured rather than fucked.

“You can’t…you can’t really do this! Please just let me go, I don’t want to do this! Please!” she cried out, but it did no good. She was dragged to the bed and thrown down on the mattress right above me. I could feel her struggles in the way the mattress moved up and down. Two of the girls worked to hold her down and untie the ropes she had been bound with. Then the guys started tying her hands and feet to the four corners of the bed.

“Please don’t do this to me!” But they pay no attention. Eagerly they bound her to the bed. At one corner one of them pulled the bondage cuff over her right wrist and bound it tight, then tied the end of the attached cord to the nearest winch. Thenanother bound her left wrist with another cuff and stretched the cord as tight as he could and tied it to another winch. Down at the bottom of the bed still another guy grabbed both of her ankles and pulled her body taut. Then in turn he and another bound each ankle and stretched the cords until her body was as tight as they could get it. They pulled her legs wide apart and tied the cords to the remaining winches. She was completely helpless, panting with desire, her body aching inside with anticipation. The girls left the room. The boys began to undress. Then I was a silent witness to everything that happened to her.

One guy came forward. He started to undress. He was big and muscular. He fairly ripped his pants off to reveal his cock, semi-erect and getting bigger. He sat down on the side of the bed.

“Please let me go! I want to go home!”

“This is going to take hours.”

“What are you going to do?”

“First we have to get you properly prepared.” For a moment he just stood and stared at her naked loveliness.

“OK, start.” And then it began.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Filling the void –

from high-socialite to sub-human-

by Vitavie

Part 1 – Initiation

I left my life in the world over a year ago. A few months earlier, I met a man. His real name is of no concern. I am not sure if he ever told me his real name. Let’s identify him as ‘K.’ A very impressive man. Handsome, of mixed European and Asian heritage. And commanding.

I needed a commanding man. I had made my fortune running a recruitment company, had sold it a year earlier and had travelled wherever my whims took me. Lived a high-society life. Had regular liaisons, which was nice enough, but I got bored. Few were a match to me. As it turned out, I was done dominating.

Years of running my company had exhausted me in that sense. Then I encountered K. At a cocktail party. We had a lively conversation and sensed that we could become good friends, as a minimum. Likely, friends with benefits, or even lovers, I thought.

For a long time, he held back. From our early meetings on, I would have gone and slept with him, had he suggested it, but, alas, he remained a gentleman. We did exchange phone numbers. It was I who called him, some two weeks after our first meeting. We agreed to have dinner together. We did, and did again, and again, and became friends. So some two handfuls of weeks passed.

Still he held back. I attributed his restraint to his Asian roots and appreciated his mysteriousness. Finally, again it was I that took the initiative and proposed that we sleep together. He smiled and said, ‘I have been expecting this for a while. But no, not yet. I need to show you something first. If you then still want to sleep with me, I will be yours.’ I returned his smile and said, ‘I wonder what deformity or unpleasantness you hide.’ ‘It is not that, I can promise you. It is nothing to do with my body.’

I was well aware that I was running a risk when I consented to see what he had to show me. He could kidnap me for ransom, kill me for a serial killer’s kicks. The truth is: I didn’t feel I had anything to lose. What was the point of the life I was leading? Sure, I had enough money to pay for all the little and big pleasures that money can buy. I had lived on that basis for a year or so and was getting bored. So, I was game, assuming what he had to show me wouldn’t kill me. I was bored, but had no death wish.

We still haven’t slept together, in the strict sense. Maybe we never will.

———————————

K has suggested I dress in eveningwear. I have chosen a jade-green ankle length dress, sleeveless with a bare back and spaghetti straps, with a high neckline. I have chosen simple white silk underwear and trimmed my pubic hair, put my long hair up high and did a fine make-up job, using green, orange and blue – yes, I still lived in hope…

He collects me from my hotel late afternoon. In a Bentley convertible. Talking about the pleasures that money can buy. K wears a tuxedo with white jacket, jade-green bowtie (how did he know?) and black trousers. He compliments me on my appearance, on the choice of dress.

‘I hope I won’t regret taking you up on your invitation, K. Your invitation remains a mystery. I will confess that I am curious.’

Another one of K’s mysterious smiles. ‘If I can judge people, women in this case, I know that what I will show you will suit you very well, Vita.’

Soon we have left the city and drive at leisurely pace through undulating countryside. It is a lovely day and the air is fragrant, full of nature’s diverse aromas, full of – dare I say – promise. Time stands still, I dream away, for half an hour or so. Then we arrive at an ornate gate, which he opens electronically. It closes behind us.

Pretty soon a large complex of buildings reveal itself to us. At the centre is a large three-story building that must house a hall of sorts. It is surrounded by two-story sections and, further out, one-story pavilions. The complex appears to stem from colonial times, has aspects of a grand British house but pagoda-style roofs and Chinese accessories, lanterns, turrets etc.

A valet, a handsome young Chinese male, is waiting and K hands him the car keys. The valet calls him by his name. We enter a large lobby, furnished with Oriental furniture and adorned with evergreen potted trees and flower arrangements.

K and I are greeted by a further Chinese staff member who also addresses K by his name. ‘We have been expecting you, Sir. Please follow me.’

We are led through a series of corridors and ultimately are shown into a dining room.

I gasp.

Seated around a large dining table are ten other guests. The shock is that half of them are bare-naked. The people who are dressed get up and come and greet us. K courteously introduces me, with compliments. Three of the men are gentlemen who wear tuxedos like K. The two dressed women are ladies in evening dresses like me. K introduces me to these five. He ignores the naked women and men, again three men and two women. They are obscene. And almost like animals. I am uneasy. I spot that a full dinner service is set only before the seven of us who are dressed. The naked five have what looks like a dog bowl before them.

Dear… What am I getting into?

The dressed persons are aged between şirinevler escort forty and fifty, I estimate. K’s and my age. The subs are not much younger, perhaps five years on average, the eldest clearly between forty and fifty. My age.

Before we are invited to sit down, each of the dressed persons call one of the naked individuals forward in turn. There is no easy link between the sexes of the dressed and the undressed. The naked ones are not introduced, but displayed. They first assume a position with feet apart, hands behind their heads, gaze cast down, so that their chests and abdomens are in full view. I note that one of the men and one of the women have hairless sexes. The man is entirely hairless, from top to bottom. He may have been handsome once. The other three have bushes, two of which are entirely unkempt and the third is neatly trimmed. After the first position has been assumed long enough for me to survey the body before me exhaustively, at a gesture by who appears to be their guardian, they turn around, bend forward and engage their hands to pull their buttocks apart. This way, their sexes and anuses are displayed. I feel their humiliation. Or have they hardened against such feelings? Would that be good?

I think I have a wide experience with naked bodies and sexual actions, but I have not had bare genitals offered to me so blatantly. Those of the hairless are pristine and obscenely visible. Those with the unkempt abdomens and perinea appear obscenely dirty. The labia are strange pink flowers of flesh in beds of dark hair like grass. The hairy scrotum is ample and crowned with a sizeable semi-erect cock.

The bodies of two, one man, the hairless one, and one woman, show clear marks of whipping or caning, I am not sure. The back and buttocks of the woman shows prominent welts. The man shows marks everywhere, except for his face and neck.

No explanation is offered by K or any of the others of what the score is. I have been around in the world enough to know that the party concerns a ring of dominants and submissives.

Is K a dominant? Did I not have an inkling? I fell for him because of his commanding stature…

After all five subs have been introduced in this way, I am invited to sit down at the table, and everyone follows. I note that the subs sit at the table too.

We are served good wine and a variety of tasty food and maintain polite conversation. Four of the five dominants are prominent men and women of business, like K is and I was, and the fifth is a supreme court judge. The elephants in the room are the submissives. They don’t speak, are not addressed and get served a bowl full of some broth served with a big wooden ladle, which they eat directly with their mouths. Like dogs. Every so often their master or mistress wipes their mouths with their napkin, without emphasis, without a single word.

I have some experience with S&M, but not at this level. I have been tied up and fucked that way. I have been gagged and fucked anally. I have worn kinky lingerie and leatherwear. I have been slapped with bare hands. I have been the subject of a gangbang. All voluntarily, if it wasn’t me who had taken the initiative in the first place. Once, I hired a dominatrix and paid for getting brutally whipped and been anally ravished by a fat dildo. Just once. The scene appears in my dreams from time to time.

I do contribute to the conversation, but experience spells where I am lost in thought. I think K notices. What are my thoughts, what my feelings? Do I want to join this gang of dominants? Will that be what K has seen in me?

When the meal is done and we are enjoying digestives, I cannot stay silent any longer and say, ‘Thank you all for allowing me in your circle as a guest. I have to say, I am in a state of confusion. Who are these naked people? What are they? Why are they here?’

K speaks, ‘They are intelligent professionals, or ex-professionals, who have identified as submissives. Slaves, to use plain language. Sex slaves, if you like, though there is a lot more than sex in the physical sense. Of the five former individuals – because they don’t answer to that term anymore – three have left the world as they knew it, no longer engage in work or with ‘vanilla’ people. They are permanently – that is: if anything is permanent – permanently dedicated to their master or mistress. The other two are preparing for that step. They have jobs but spend their time outside work as submissives.’

‘I have to ask… Do you have a slave, or slaves, too, K?’

‘I don’t at the moment.’ And he leaves a barely noticeable pause. Does he propose I…? ‘But we share the submissives and their services.

‘I see you are puzzled. It is necessary to tell you that the slaves have entered this state of their own free will. They need the degradation, the humiliation, the suffering… Each of them to a different degree. Slaves are and remain human beings. Their state fulfils them, makes them grow. You can ask them if you like.

‘Slave Martin, come here. He is the one of the ones who has left his profession and the world as he knew it and became a permanent and fulltime submissive.’

Martin is a Caucasian, fairly slender, but tall. He looks shocking… His body is hairless from head to foot. Very strange. Otherworldly. He appears taksim escort so naked this way. His body, however, is covered in welts and scars, as if he is dressed in them. His sex is large, his scrotum, his flaccid cock, both in girth and in length – surely the largest set I have ever seen. His large cock is locked up in a chastity cage, which blatantly fails to hide its size. His eyes are downcast.

‘He was a very high-powered lawyer, successful too, wealthy. Outside work, he became involved in the public BSDM scene that Judge X frequents, and gravitated towards the role of the submissive. He worked hard and played hard, until he got burnt-out and realised his life should be one of full, deep submission. It liberated him. His baldness reflects the distance he had to take from his former life, but was not his initiative. His hair has been removed permanently, not a single hair excepted. I was present for the day it took to remove the hair by a laser technique, the day after he formally submitted to Judge X. When he saw his reflection in the mirror, he ranted and raved like a madman. It is the only time I saw him emotional. He was brutally punished for his outburst. He since appears to have accepted it.’

Martin’s gaze is still to the ground. He did not respond when K told his story. K taps at his chastity cage. ‘Martin was a famous womaniser in his heyday. A legendary libido. A true ladykiller. Left carnage in his wake. As it stands, he has not been inside a woman for two years. The curved cage prevents him from getting erect. Mind that it was not the judge, but Martin himself suggested chastity. He has been chaste for over a year. He would probably identify as a heterosexual, but has accepted Judge X as his master. Since then his will has ceased and been replaced by the Judge’s. Now, the strict regime of punishment… He is never without marks. The Judge decided that for him, to atone for his past life. And because he likes the look. And, he will admit, because he is sadist. But he lives by the golden rule: to maintain his subject’s health. Same, for the hairlessness. He was a handsome fellow, complete with a stylish cut and jazzy beard. His mother would not recognise him. He has been compared to a monk. In the service of sex and us, his gods.’

I am not sure what I should feel. Anger? Surely, this man must have been brainwashed. Tears of compassion? He is hideous to look at. Womaniser no more. Yet I can imagine leaving the world. There are times I yearn for something else. High society been there, done it. But not this…

K looks at my pale face and does not offer any consolation or apology.

Adding insult to injury, one of the men comes up, undoes his fly and produces his member. Judge X pushes Martin forward and down to his knees. The slave gently strokes the men’s cock until it is erect. Then blows the other man. He manages to deep throat him. I am impressed by the subtleness and the variability of the movements of his hands and lips, and presumably of his tongue. The man soon closes his eyes, raises his head high and moans with pleasure. The slave takes his time and drives the man up to sublime ecstasy. I will admit: I watch with fascination. With a resounding throaty cry, the man comes and after a brief pause pushes Martin away.

K smiles at me and says, ‘I am glad you enjoyed this demonstration. Now, let us offer him to you for a moment, as welcome gift.’ It is K that hitches up my dress, bunches it up and holds the fabric, to clear access to my sex. Do I feel compelled to grab my drawers and let them drop to my ankles? Or do I really want to? I do drop them. The slave wastes not a minute but digs in and sets to work. Oh! I too close my eyes and disappear to nirvana. His tongue and lips… Indescribable, so subtle… I feel his tongue everywhere, in and around my folds, the entry to my uterus and my clitoris, in a never-ending magical sequence. His work is nothing less than divine. Again, he must have taken his time – for me, his ministrations were timeless. And I too come once, twice with a guttural cry. Lord, what is happening…

In my dream state, I raise my drawers and K delicately lets go of my dress.

A few minutes later we take our leave.

—————

On the way back to the city, we discuss my impressions. ‘Impressions’ does not cover it. I was blown away by the confrontation with five degraded individuals – degraded consensually, so it seems. By seeing a male slave, said to be heterosexual, give a blowjob to another man. And perform cunnilingus on me. He understands my having been put off – by having to see these ‘slaves’ and especially being forced to be satisfied by the debased hairless man.

K’s defence makes a sensitive impression.

‘The thing is, whether by nature or by nurture, there are men and women who cannot be anything else but sex slaves. To say that they are happy to be so… Are monks in a closed order happy? I am sure happy is not the word. But certainly, they would be unhappy outside it.’

I confess to my confusion, if not irritation, concerning K offering Martin’s service to me, without the option to say no.

‘I am sorry, if I hurt your feelings. I imagine it will have something to do with him doing it, instead of me?’

‘I am not sure if it does, really… Let me think… Why didn’t topkapı escort you?’

‘Our time will come. It won’t be long now. But if your irritation was not based on that, on what was it?’

‘Well, I didn’t like being done in public, without warning.’

‘However, it looked like you enjoyed it? And you did reach an orgasm or two? The fact that it happened in public did not kill them? Perhaps instead heightened them?’

‘Yes! No! He was expert, it is true. But to orgasm in public? I should at least have agreed to that.’

‘If I had asked, you would have refused. Correct?’

‘Yes, probably.”

‘The way that it happened, you can’t deny that you were sent to heaven by the slave?’

‘No, I can’t deny it. It was divine. But I am in no position to confirm that the presence of others heightened it. I was horrified and then mightily aroused. In no state to judge the origins of how I climbed towards orgasm.’

‘Precisely my point. And I was in a state to judge. I have seen it happen countless times.’

‘Do I like where this is going? I just don’t know.’

‘But I guarantee you: you will know.’

He drops me off at my hotel with a kiss on my cheek. He did not take me to his home or does not offer to come to my room.

I masturbate in a confused haze of a dream. Reach a few orgasms, as in a dark fairytale, of a maiden held in a castle with triple towers.

————————

He calls me again a few days later.

‘Should I be sorry I took you? I hope I have not turned you off my company. On my part, I am happy you allowed me to show you a glimpse of my world. It is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I rated you higher. I am sure you masturbated the minute you got to your room.’

I ignore this last comment and answer his question. ‘I was shocked. I can’t believe this kind of life is ever consensual.’

He pauses. I hear him breathe.

‘I think you confuse consensual with easy. A slave’s life is hardly easy. But it is fulfilling to some. And inevitable. We can all psychologise about why a slave is or becomes a slave. Poor attachment to the parents, victim of child abuse. Or years of acting over and above one’s power, like a commander that was essentially born a follower. Or like Martin, who simply depleted his lady-killing powers and was done, shed his cocoon and transformed into a submissive. I am not a psychologist, but I have seen the pupating several times. By now, I believe my intuition can tell a slave from a mistress or master in the bud. Of course true masters or slave fit for the life are rare. Most people are neither.’

I find myself uneasy.

‘I see… And what am I?

‘I think you ought to try and have a guess yourself…’

‘I believe you are grooming me…’

‘Well… Did our visit turn you on? Be honest…’

‘It moved me, that I can say.’

‘Let me say it straight. I believe you are a bit like Martin. Bored with your life, done after a life of commanding your business. You are bored with living the socialite life… You are bored with leading and want to follow…’

‘That does not make me like Martin…’

‘In the final analysis that is up to you. But do you know yourself? Do you belong in the sea or on the beach? Can you tell without dipping your toe in the sea?’

I sigh. Dipping me toe…

‘I had never suspected it would come to this. Let me be frank this time. What I had suspected was that we would come together, we would sleep together and at some point be on our way again.’

‘Oh, I am attracted to you, Vita. I just had the sense that you might be destined for more than just a common affair.’

I don’t know what to say. He is right that I am bored with my life as it is. Perhaps I do desire oblivion, the total lack of responsibilities. Perhaps I want to be sex, live sex.

‘Come to me now and fuck me. I need that. Fuck me like a Master. Then we’ll talk some more.’

————————————

An hour later, he is adjusting his clothing. He has fucked me. Like a Master. With authority. I have to grant him that.

He obtained access to my room of his own accord, without me having to let him in. In no uncertain terms, but without raising his voice he instructed me to strip naked. Should I be surprised that I complied? He told me to lie down on the bed and tied my hands together and to the headboard, and my ankles to the left and right bedposts at the foot of the bed. Without hurry, confident and calm. I cooperated. No, he did not immediately enter me, roughly and readily. He made me ready by ever so slowly, painfully slowly, excruciatingly slowly stroking my areolas, delicately flicking my nipples, stroking my flanks with his full hands, up and down, the outside of my thighs and calves, the top of my feet, massaging my feet for a while, then repeatedly stroking the inside of my legs, my thighs, so near to my sex, repeatedly, repeatedly, before ruffling my bush, then finger stroking my labia majora, including the perineum in the circuit, stroking in-between the majora and minora, finally deeming my clitoris worthy of his touch, which had started to reveal itself from underneath its hood, and softly making me come once – a long enough pause – twice and thrice… Only then he dropped his trousers and in a decisive, firm but not too harsh a way entered me and fucked me with long strokes until he let out a mighty roar and came. Nothing moved for what may be a minute, during which I felt his cock grow limp again and I looked up at his face and closed eyes – the face of god, there is no other word – me highly content and he… well, satisfied.

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Rules of BDSM Manor – safety, respect, and consent.

Note to reader: You will get more from these characters if you read the stories in order, but it’s not compulsory.

Tess-O’Meter — Green/Red.

Extra note to readers of the Manor stores:

This story contains severe pain (second half).

If this makes you uncomfortable then I would suggest that you do not read further, or read with caution, once Alex’s session with ‘Mistress Sadist’ begins as it is quite extreme. Once that starts, you can skip to the next chapter without missing anything other than his long-awaited session with Sadie.

Also I haven’t bothered with aftercare in this chapter. Obviously it happened; but I figured the chapter was long enough without describing cuddles.

-X

Alex and I strode into the hospital less than seven hours after boarding the helicopter in Greece.

It was early evening in London, and after such an efficient journey from the yacht to Athens and on to London, the journey across the city in rush hour traffic had been the height of frustration.

Not least of which because John had last texted, ‘All ok so far. My battery is about to die, don’t panic if no news’ and that had been the last update we had received regarding Casey.

Does no one else own a phone?

We were directed by reception and entered the waiting room to see Paul, Casey’s husband, talking with a man in scrubs.

Paul looked beat, and grey, but he smiled and nodded when we entered, and beckoned us over to him.

“They can’t all stay here,” the other man said, not unkindly.

We approached, apprehensive, but didn’t interrupt, as this was Paul’s place of work and he was highly respected here.

“Of course not Peter,” he replied and gestured towards us, “these are the friends I was waiting for. I just need an hour.”

“Okay, no problem,” the man nodded at us and left.

I glanced around the room.

John was sat on a couch, looking exhausted, but awake, he managed to smile at me. His arms were around both Sadie and Keira, who were sleeping.

Chris and Curtis were snuggled together in another large comfy chair, both also asleep. Curtis was snoring gently.

Paul held out his hand to me, “I’m so sorry about your honeymoon.”

I shook, because I understand he is more comfortable with me as a master, than as a friend, “Not important, how is she?”

“In recovery. Tentatively out of danger, but she lost a lot of blood.”

Alex was less respectful of Paul’s personal space, but then they are both submissives, he pulled him into a hug, “What does tentatively out of danger mean?”

Paul shrugged and smiled wanly, “It means we can’t make any promises but are hopeful,” he said, “if it was anyone else but me, it would still be, let’s see what the morning brings,” he admitted.

“It was bad?” I asked.

Paul nodded and blinked rapidly. Alex rubbed his back.

Pulling himself together, Paul waved to John and walked us out, “I need to do one thing at a time, and I’m not quite ready to talk you through it, so come with me.”

Allowing him some space, we followed him a short way down a corridor and into a small room.

A nurse was waiting for us, “Ah, Mr Bailey. They’ve arrived then?”

“Yes, Claire, this is Alex and Leslie,” his eyes practically begged me to forgive him for not addressing me as Master.

I patted his back and moved forward as directed by the ultra-efficient nurse. Who watched us wash our hands, pull on a soft coverall, masks and hair coverings.

I noticed she was as strict with Paul as with us, despite his position in the hospital.

She was also treating him with extreme kindness and gentleness, as if he were delicate and might shatter, and it was making me nervous.

When satisfied, she led us through a door into a new room. I had been expecting to find Casey, wired up to monitors and support systems, but instead we walked into a room with incubators, and tiny fragile bodies.

Alex and I had been too scared to ask about the twins. We looked at each other with both fear and excitement.

Claire quickly bustled us towards two seats. About five incubators were in use, and as I sat, I noticed a bundle of wires and skin close by, smaller than my hand and a very odd color.

Claire saw me looking, “That’s Baby Harris,” she told me, “Don’t look so worried, she’s actually doing really well.”

“Really?”

She nodded as she turned to another incubator, “Yes, we are really pleased with her.”

She quickly lifted a small baby, dressed in light green, and turned, passing her to Paul.

His tired eyes lit up and crinkled behind the mask as he smiled. He moved towards Alex who looked panicked.

“What. What do I do?” he asked, eyes wide.

Claire quickly made a cradle of his arms before moving away, and Paul expertly placed the tiny bundle into Alex’s terrified arms.

“Oh Shit!” he whispered.

“Do you mind?” Claire reprimanded him, without even looking around.

I smiled and leaned closer to see the wrinkly, pissed off looking merter escort face. Pouting in her sleep.

“Looks like her Mum with that pout,” I told Paul, and it was true, I could see Casey in this tiny human being.

Paul smiled, “I would like to introduce you to my elder daughter, by about ninety seconds! This is Alexandria Keira Catherine Bailey.”

We both gasped.

“Alexandria?” Alex asked.

Paul’s eyes crinkled again, “To be honest, I think she looks like an Alex.”

“Who’s Catherine?” I asked.

“My mother,” Paul said, “She has Casey’s brother, sister and my mother for her names.”

Alex just shook his head, overwhelmed. Even though he, Casey and Keira are not related (because that would be gross), they are indeed as close as any siblings.

Paul turned to take the next bundle, slightly bigger, dressed in soft yellow. I let Claire direct me as she had directed Alex.

I was, quite frankly, terrified to hold such a small person.

Paul lowered his younger (by ninety seconds!) daughter into my arms.

“And who is this beautiful young lady?” I asked, thinking I could not be more stunned than I was right now.

“This is Lesley Poppy Elizabeth Bailey,” he told me, stunning me even further.

“Wow,” Alex said.

(Uncle Alex, not Baby Alex. Obviously, she’s smart, but not quite clever enough to talk at a few hours old.)

“Seriously?” was the best I could do.

I had been named for my Aunt Lesley, and now in turn a child was being named for me, it was mind-blowing.

We knew Poppy was Casey’s best friend, from her university days.

“Who’s Elizabeth?” I asked.

“Casey’s grandmother,” Paul reminded me.

I nodded; I had known she had been very close to her grandmother.

“Are they okay?” I asked, “Out of the incubators?”

Paul nodded, “It’s just a bit of extra support, they can come out for around an hour, but this is just a few minutes to meet them.”

Claire was keeping her eagle eye on us, “Most likely it will only be for a few days, good strong girls, both of them.”

Alex was gaining confidence and was poking under Alexandria’s little hat, “How come yours has hair. Mine doesn’t have hair!”

Indeed there were dark curls poking out from Lesley’s hat, “Guess she takes after her Uncle Leslie,” I joked and then my breath backed up as I looked back down and saw she was awake and staring at me.

Dark eyes with all the knowledge of the word in them.

“Wow,” I said. Sounding just like Alex.

We sat and basked for a few minutes, before Paul and Claire put the girls back into their incubator. I hadn’t realized at first, but they were in together.

We returned to the outer room and gladly stripped the protective clothing off, it was really hot in there.

“Thanks Claire,” Paul said, “I’m going to the canteen and then I’ll be either with Casey or in the family room, B12.”

“No problem Mr Bailey, you come anytime, but do try and get some sleep, those girls are fine with me,” she nodded at us all and returned to the babies.

Paul led us further down yet another corridor. I had already completely lost my sense of direction.

“I need coffee,” he said, “it’s a staff canteen, won’t be too busy at the moment.”

He flashed his ID, and we found a table. Paul went and got the coffee.

“It’s not too bad,” he said as he sat.

Alex, who is a known coffee snob, sniffed the cup and then went for sugar, making Paul and I laugh.

We all sipped for a few minutes, waiting for Paul.

“She had backache” he started, “neither of us suspected labor. Twins can come early, but nearly five weeks.”

He stared at the table, “It just happened so fast. Her waters suddenly broke and there was blood. Too much blood,” he took a sip.

“The ambulance crew were amazing, drove like demons! Someone told one of my colleagues that I was coming in with my wife, he’s a surgeon,” he waved his hand, “Gynecological,” he clarified.

“He looked at the amount of blood in the ambulance and just said, ‘Theatre now’ no hesitation. He told me I could stay with her, but only to observe, but I didn’t have to, I could just wait, like anyone else, just wait outside.”

Paul took a sip of terrible coffee and a deep breath, “Casey had passed out in the ambulance. It was all so fast. I hadn’t had a chance to reassure her, to tell her I loved her, that I wasn’t going to leave her alone.”

Alex moved around the table at this point and pulled Paul into a hug.

“An emergency caesarean with a hemorrhaging patient is extremely nasty and brutally fast. The girls were out, both crying, my head was spinning, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop.”

He clung to Alex’s hand, “Peter realized what it was. Even though it’s incredibly rare, most surgeons will never hear of it, even specializing in gynecology, let alone have to deal with it, but he realized and told me he needed to do a hysterectomy.”

“Oh, Paul, I’m so sorry,” I said, surprised when he let me take his other hand.

“No, it’s okay, it’s okay because ortaköy escort it saved Casey’s life, and she’s going to be fine, and we have two amazing daughters,” he laughed a little, “and all because one of my colleagues got chatting to an American surgeon while on holiday and they ended up talking shop. If not for that,” he stopped and gave my hand a squeeze before lifting his cup and drinking more bad coffee.

We walked back along what I swear was a different corridor again, Paul stopped and entered a room with B12 on it.

It looked like a basic motel room, double bed, and shower room.

“This is one of the family rooms, for when kids are in. I said I could sleep in my office, but they have plenty of space, so they have given me this for tonight,” he sighed, “I need to give them back their waiting room, we’ve taken it over.”

It wasn’t late, but we were all exhausted, and all wanted to stay close.

“I’ll take them back to ours,” I said, “We are only a short distance away if you need us, and we have room. Master Shey took our bags back and said he would get some groceries, so we’ll have food.”

I grabbed Alex’s hand, “It’s a big bed. Will you stay with Paul?”

He nodded, even as Paul protested, “What, no! It’s your honeymoon.”

I looked at Paul, “It’s him or me,” I told him darkly.

Alex sniggered, “Of course I’ll wait with Paul. Let’s get the others moving.”

We returned to the waiting room for an emotional reunion with our friends and unusual family.

Keira really didn’t want to let Alex go, I knew she would have missed him like a limb while we were away, but once we had gotten back to our flat, forced a snack down, and crashed, she told me Alex was the best choice to stay with Paul.

I hugged Keira close. Pathetically glad that I didn’t have to be alone tonight.

Missing my husband like crazy and scared for what the morning would bring.

-X

Four weeks later:

I stood with Alex, plus Alexandria and Lesley, and waved at the Kostantina as she sailed into the Thames and towards the sea.

I was actually quite envious of the trip down the river, it would be interesting.

Mama stood on the back of the yacht and blew kisses at the babies. Both of them were fast asleep; wrapped up against the cold wind.

Mama and her boys had arrived with our luggage and a healthy dose of common sense two weeks before.

We had all been treating Casey like she was made of glass, and driving her to distraction, but it took Mama to walk in and point that out to us.

She quickly directed us back to a more normal routine and allowed Casey a sense of freedom, without actually allowing her to do very much at all.

There again, I’ve always known Mama is a sneaky little vixen!

Baby Alex and Baby Lesley had both beaten their Mum out of hospital. Sadie had provided Casey and Paul with support in the form of two amazing nannies (although one was a manny!) and a temporary nursing aid while Casey recovered.

She was understandably upset at losing the chance to have more babies of her own, and also dealing with massive body changes as she had lost both her womb and her ovaries, effectively pushing her into early menopause aged thirty-five.

Paul had told me that they had asked him to make that decision in surgery. Take the ovaries or not?

One of the theater nurses, who Paul had worked with often, had told him to give the girl a break and let her get it over with all at once, so out they had come.

Casey, thankfully, agreed that had been the right decision. Doubly agreed after speaking with my Aunt Lesley about the horrors of the menopause!

She had a lot of healing to do though and was still exhausted.

Alex waved back at Mama until the yacht was out of site, wincing slightly as he lowered his arm.

“You okay?”

“Bit sore,” he said, and flashed me a grin.

I laughed.

Having to leave Greece so quickly, Mama had lost her chance to play again with Alex.

She had planned a whipping and gangbang, so we had gathered for just that at our apartment the night before.

Even Casey had attended, her eyes lighting up as she watched Alex suffer under Mama’s lash.

Alex had spent the whole night blindfolded, so he had no idea out of Ly, Mario, or Kostas, who was fucking him at any one time. Or which cock was in his mouth, come to that, as he was spit-roasted for most of the night.

He always seemed to be able to tell when it was me at either end, I ended up having four rounds, it was busy, busy.

I would have been quite disappointed if he hadn’t recognized me to be honest. He is both my slave and my husband after all. My cock is the star around which his entire life should revolve!

(Kidding. Obviously. Well, mostly!)

None of Mama’s boys had met John before. The timing had always been wrong, and he had never made it to Greece.

So when John stepped up to show them what a proper, choking, breath stopping, deep throating session was all about, Alex had sure as hell recognized otele gelen escort the cock blocking his airway.

Alex is an amazing deep-throater, as his entire body just BEGS for it.

All three of Mama’s boys (Captain is a separate case!), had wanted to try to take John as well, they had never seen such a huge cock and became quite over excited.

All in all they did quite well. Mario actually did the best.

Then they all watched in awe as John took Alex’s ass and I his mouth again.

Alex was so deep in the sub-zone by then, it seemed like he would stay there for weeks.

He certainly had not been in any fit state to say goodbye to them last night.

His body red and stripped from Mama’s whip, soaked in sweat and tears, shaking and still cumming.

All five of the crew had been amazed to see him, bright as a button, this morning, and had cooed over him almost as much as they did the babies.

The tides wait for no man though, and they had to get back to Greece for a BDSM based charter. One of Mama’s humiliation specials.

Alex was still humiliated to know that he has been on board a week before he discovered what the crew really got up to when they were not escorting physically challenged kids.

I mean really, does he not know me at all?

When we got back to their house, Casey and Paul had taken advantage of some peace and quiet to have a cuddle, which of course meant they were both fast asleep!

Lesley was just starting to get grizzly and Debbie, the nanny, lifted her and declared it was most likely time for a nappy change.

“Will you show me?” I asked, ignoring Alex’s snigger, “I should probably learn.”

“Sure, come on up,” Debbie agreed, and we headed for the nursery.

She competently placed Lesley on the changing mat and slipped her out of her clothes. I grinned, watching closely, Lesley was wriggling like a fish and starting to chuckle.

“She looks like she’s up to no good,” I said.

Debbie shot me a knowing look, “No doubt she is,” then she pulled open the nappy.

“Holy crap!” I staggered back a full five paces as an evil scent from hell, rose from the nappy and assaulted my nostrils.

Now both girls were laughing at me.

“What the hell? Did Satan’s cat throw up in her nappy?”

“It’s just baby poo,” Debbie said, quickly banishing the foul fumes to a nappy bag.

“Is she ill?” I asked.

Debbie rolled her eyes, “No, she’s fine, it’s supposed to look like that.”

Paul walked in at that point, looking rumpled and yawning, took one look at my pale face and grinned.

“Wakes you up doesn’t it,” he said, then seemed to remember who he was talking to and looked awkward.

In defense of my manhood, I managed to complete the nappy change experience. Most of it was quite fun.

I particularly enjoyed the powder, although Debbie had thrown a light towel over Lesley’s head and waved her hand around, coughing “Enough powder, enough!”

I thought that I would recruit an escort a few times before I tried alone though, it was quite complicated procedure.

Either Paul, or Debbie, or Colin would be around to guide me through. (Colin is the manny, and before you make assumptions, no, he’s not gay. He is in fact a happily married father of three who just happens to really like kids. And dirty nappies I assume.)

Leaving the still giggling Lesley with Debbie, I asked Paul for a private word and we went into his study.

Paul looked nervous as I shut the door firmly.

I indicated the chairs, “May I sit?”

“Sorry, yes of course Master, please do.”

There. That right there was my problem.

“Paul,” I sighed, “you can’t be calling me Master in your own house. Debbie and Colin know the score, more or less, but are you going to do that forever? What if you call me Master in front of the girls? It’s not appropriate.”

He sank into the other chair, “I’m struggling with adjusting,” he admitted.

“You’re Casey’s husband. I’m her owner. Can we not be friends?”

“Of course, I do consider you a friend,” he paused, before tacking on, “Leslie.”

I laughed, so did he.

“Paul,” I asked, “Do you need me to step back from Casey? Give her freedom, she could still come to me as a sub.”

Paul’s eyes widened in panic, “No, no, please don’t suggest that to her. That’s the last thing she wants.”

“Okay,” I reassured him, “Okay then.”

I pushed his comfort levels by walking over and crouching down next to him, “In that case, you need to practice. The only time you or Casey should refer to me as Master, whether talking to me or about me, is when we are at the Manor.”

He looked at me seriously, “What if we get too comfortable and forget to call you Master when we should.”

“I’ll feed you to the pigs,” I deadpanned.

Paul’s mouth twitched, “You don’t have pigs.”

“I’ll buy some.”

He grinned, “I’ll practice.”

“Good. Now I need a favor. I need to talk to Casey about plans for the next little while, and I need you to come and hold my hand, because I don’t think she’s going to like it.”

He frowned, “What plans, why won’t she like them.”

I shrugged, “Well, I need to tell her that she’s not going near her tail, or any of her usual activities until she has been cleared by a specialist, and I suspect it could be a year, maybe longer.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The Search and the Discovery 1B

(The Spirit Gods Have Spoken)

*

-7-

“What do you want me to wear, Sir?”

“Put on the short skirt and blouse and regular shoes.”

We had a hell of a time cleaning up the carpet. We didn’t have anything to do it properly with at all. We finally ended up using a wash cloth, bath soap and one hotel towel to dry the area as much as possible. I directed the A/C vents to blow in that direction so it should be dry by the time we get back from our short outing. We showered and washed each other squeaky clean all over and in every intimate spot.

We were in the bedroom and ready to go. I had just one thing left to do. I reached into my suitcase, which was on a stand next to one of the closets, and pulled out a crystal clear glass butt plug. Not a big one but not a really small one either.

“Put this in your mouth and suck on it and get it all wet.”

Karen made a big show out of doing that. When she was finished, she handed it back to me with a big smile on her face. It was a lovable sexy smile that said: “I know exactly what you’re going to do with that.” It was just the kind of smile that I like the most.

“Turn around, lift your skirt, bend over, and use both hands to spread your cheeks as wide apart as you can while I insert this through your backdoor entrance.”

When she was in position with her cheeks spread wide and that cute little brown eye winking at me, I slowly inserted the glass plug into her rectum. She groaned a little at first but I got it in without too much trouble.

“Stand up straight, turn around, and look at me.”

“Do you like what you see Sir?”

“I most certainly do, little one.”

“Am I allowed to carry on a normal conversation with you now Sir?”

“Yes you are and you can drop the ‘Sir’ during casual times.”

“Yes Sir. I will keep that in mind.”

I almost laughed out loud when she said that. It was another very subtle reminder of who Karen thought was really in control here. We haven’t discussed that in depth as of yet, but we will after dinner and the visit to the toy store. I did tell her, long before we came to Arizona, that she could stop anything that frightened her or made her more uncomfortable than she could deal with at any time. I think she took that statement to mean that she was in control of anything and everything. I would have to edit her thinking when we returned.

“I may call you ‘Master Bill’ too. I like that title. Calling you ‘Master Bill’ makes me ‘slave karen’. I like that title very much. Maybe this store we are going to will have a set of those Master/slave T-shirts I once saw on Cape Cod. You know? The ‘Master’ shirt has the two feet together aiming down and the ‘slave’ shirt has the two feet spread apart and aiming up. Are you sure we can’t fool around some more with some ‘Missionary’ or ‘Doggie’ before we go?”

“You’re an oversexed slut, and you’re a nympho too, aren’t you? In the words of the Spirit Gods: “Too much of a good thing might not be such a good thing.”

“Who’s listening to the Spirit Gods right now?”

“I am slave. And any more sassy talk from you and you will find yourself walking out to the Hummer holding your skirt around your waist and showing your baby smooth pussy and that nice round ass of yours to anyone who happens to be outside in the parking area.”

“Yes Sir.”

It was a quick turn to the left going out the door and down the stairs to the Hummer, which was parked almost directly under the huge glass window of our suite.

We drove down to the main street of Sedona known as Hwy 89A. The Oaxaca is a really old style Mexican restaurant and not formal at all. I love Mexican food and so does Karen. It was nothing fancy, but it was really good eating. And you can dine on the roof if you want to.

After our meal and a couple of glasses of wine for Karen, we paid our bill and headed out for the place I call “The Toy Store”. It’s not a toy store for everybody. It’s for adults only. It’s a few streets south of 89A and is known mostly to the locals. Some tourists find it by accident. It’s a plain looking place about the size of a small three bedroom house and has a tiny sign that says “Adult Thoughts” on it. We parked in front, next to the only two other cars there. Karen made the comment: “This is going to be interesting.”

“Have you ever been in one of these stores little one?”

“I’ll never tell,” was her only comment, delivered with a big smile.

When we walked in the front door, everything changed from a plain simple unobtrusive building to a well laid out store offering everything sexual known to mankind. There was a large video, book and magazine section of course. There was a room for Gays and Lesbians. And there was an entire room set aside for Leather and Bondage. The main room was covered wall to wall with all the sex toys you have always known about and quite a few that you have never thought of or even knew existed. The entire center of the room fındıkzade escort was a mass of display racks with more of the same stuff, only smaller in size.

I grabbed a hand basket from a stack by the entrance, took Karen by the hand, and walked her around the entire store, other than the Gay and Lesbian room, and let her mind absorb all of the possibilities that we could make use of during the next few days. After the initial walk-around, which often took a bit of pulling on my part to get Karen to move on to the next display, I found a private spot in a far corner and told her what I wanted her to do while we were here.

“I have brought quite a few toys of my own with me in my suitcase. I’m sure you figured that out very quickly as you are keeping one of them nice and warm and secure in your asshole right now. What we are going to do is look at specific types of toys and devices and I want you to pick one from each group of products that I point out to you. The items out here are just general sex toys. The ones in the Leather and Bondage room are going to be absolutely specific in their purpose. Are you ready to start?”

“Yes Sir. Do I have any limitations on what I pick?”

“I won’t allow any advanced level toys, so let’s keep it simple. We don’t have a few months to explore all the possible uses of every item. I want you to tell me what turns you on the most.”

“Master Bill. My pussy got turned on to everything the minute we walked through the front door.”

“I thought it might ‘slave karen’.”

I moved her over to the section that had nothing but vibrating devices. I would have guessed that there were 40-50 different types, many with very special and specific uses.

“I want you to pick one vibrating item for each of your holes.”

“God, there are sooooo many. Does that include my mouth too Sir?”

“There is a section with all sorts of gags and other devices for your mouth. You can pick any of them that appeal to you when we get there Squirt.”

Karen just laughed and laughed. “If there is something good there, I will find it.”

“I have no doubt that you will.”

She studied every vibrating item offered. Picked up several for a closer look and returned them to their spot on the wall. She did this for fifteen minutes before turning to me and saying: “I know exactly what I want to get Sir.”

“And what would that be little one?”

“The matching set that comes with one vibrator for the vagina and one for the anus. To be more specific, I would like to get the set that has the remote control and the little wires hanging from the bottom of each toy that you can control from a hundred yards away.”

“Take it off the wall and put it in the basket. I really like that choice little one.”

She did and gave me one of her devious little smiles of innocence and anticipation. She just loves doing that because she knows men like it and she loves to flirt. I like it too. I’m going to figure out how to do that back to her one of these days.

“Now I want you to pick out one of the vibrators specifically designed for your clit. That is one of the items I’m going to have the most fun with.”

“Since you are going to enjoy this type of vibrator so much, don’t you think that you should pick out the one you like the most?”

“No, I don’t think so this time. You are the submissive slave and I want you to pick the one you think will please me the most.”

At that very instant, the old proverbial light bulb lit up above her and I saw her head nod several times as she suddenly realized the meaning of what I had just very casually said to her. Awareness and understanding can be such a powerful force, especially when it strikes without warning. I have been telling her all day and now it has finally sunk into her permanent awareness.

“I have a confession to make Sir. I totally understand the need for honesty, trust, love, and faith in each other and in our everyday relationship. All of it is there at the highest possible level. But I have been somewhat confused about understanding my role as a submissive. What am I supposed to feel? What am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to desire? What was I expecting when I told you that I am yours and that you can do anything you want with me? And, most important of all, what am I looking for inside of myself?

What you just said, Sir, hit me like a ton of bricks. ‘Training’ is a word you use in all of your stories. But you are not training me. We need to talk seriously about this when we get back to our suite. I just woke up to the fact that we are not here to find ways to please me, excite me, and make me cum. I am here to find ways to please you, which I want to do more than anything in the world. That is true, isn’t it? I need to understand submission. I do understand now that I need to please you and I know that by doing so, I may get to experience pleasure and excitement in return, if you should choose to allow that to happen. And I also understand gülbağ escort why the orgasm I had earlier was the most powerful that I have ever experienced. It was because you created it and you ‘allowed’ me to have it.”

“Well little one. That is quite a sudden realization, especially with the two of us standing here in the middle of this store. I feel the excitement of your discovery. I am very proud of you and your efforts to grow and recognize greater self awareness. You keep proving to me what a natural you are over and over again. We will talk about your new discovery when you are naked back in our suite. It is always much more effective to talk about sexual and emotional feelings totally naked in front of your Master. It is an extremely important discovery and will open a door that will allow you much greater awareness and understanding of everything you experience from now on. The greater awareness of who you are in this life being one of them.”

-8-

I nudged her to hurry up and make her pick of the clit vibrators so I could get her into the Leather and Bondage room. Karen picked this small little brown vibrator that had a cup on the end. It hit the basket and I took her hand again and led her to the room I really wanted to be in to begin with. It was a large room. Sort of the ‘master bedroom’ of a house, except it was much larger. It had thirty feet of wall on every side. I took her straight to the ‘Wall of Cuffs’.

“What do you think of these items little one?”

“They all look like they require a great deal of trust.”

“They do require a high level of trust. Some keep your hands locked behind your back and some keep your arms and legs spread wide apart. All of them make you completely helpless and vulnerable. It is your choice to make. You don’t have to pick any if you don’t want to. Or, you can pick one or more different types, if that is your choice.”

Karen picked up every item in that section, one at a time, and held them in her hands for a minute before putting them back and moving on to the next variation of the same type of device.

“You said I can pick more than one type? May I do that now Sir?”

“If that is what you want to do, then go ahead.”

Karen picked two pairs of metal handcuffs and gently put them into the basket. Then she reached up high and pulled down a really nice set of fur lined wrist and ankle cuffs. I think she forgot that she was wearing a semi-short skirt and no panties because most of her ass came into full view when she was doing the stretch to grab the fur cuffs. I looked, but nobody was watching. I placed an open hand over the lower globes of her exposed cheeks and squeezed a little. Karen froze for just an instant and then continued on with reaching for the box and pulling it off of the hook that was holding it so high up on the wall display. As she came down with the box, her skirt returned to its normal position and I took my hand off of her unexpectedly displayed bare ass. As she put that item in the basket, I whispered into Karen’s ear: “When you get a chance, I want you to do something that will expose your bald pussy”.

She whispered, “Yes Sir” without any hesitation at all.

Next to the cuff section was a smaller display of clamps. They were labeled beginner, intermediate, and advanced. She immediately picked a package of 25 tiny plastic clothespins from the middle level. Then she picked two sets of lightweight adjustable clamps that were connected to each end of a thin silver chain. Each package also came with three weights that could be hooked onto the chain. These all went into the basket. She turned toward me and asked me what I thought of a particular set that had caught her eye in the top row. When she asked my opinion, she stood up on tiptoe and pointed to the set she was asking about just to make sure I knew which one she was referring to. For about five seconds, Karen was standing there facing toward me with her skirt pulled up high enough to completely expose her smooth little slice of bald pussy to me and the entire store. I didn’t look around this time. Karen did though, and a cute shy little smile suddenly appeared for an instant as she returned to a regular standing position.

“The clothespins are OK. You won’t be able to deal with more than a few to begin with. The clamps are perfect for you but I would recommend three sets which I will explain later. The one’s you just pointed to can be a bit nasty. Alligator clamps like that aren’t adjustable. They have a very strong spring in them. You picked the type with a thin layer of rubber over each of the teeth, but they can still be very painful, for a beginner, if left on too long. The kind with the bare, sharp metal teeth, are only for people very experienced in accepting pain.”

“I want to try the set I pointed out on my nipples if you will give me permission Sir.”

“You have my permission but I will have total control of their use little one.”

“I understand Sir.

This time she was standing halkalı escort with her right side toward the wall when she reached up to remove the rubber coated alligator clamps from the top level. This exposed both her ass and her pussy in two directions. I glanced to the left and immediately saw that a couple in the book section got a really nice look at her pussy for a couple of seconds. It didn’t surprise them in the least and they acted like that happened to them all the time. That set of clamps went into the basket, as did one more set of the adjustable beginner’s clamps.

Next, we moved to the section of whips, crops, canes, and paddles. Karen stared at all of them completely mesmerized.

“Are you trying to guess what each of those feel like if they were to be used on your body?”

“Yes Sir. I am afraid of pain. I believe you completely when you say that pain and arousal at the same time can produce monster orgasms, but I don’t know if I want to try that yet. In your stories, you have often said that many women sexually enjoy higher levels of pain as a means of proving their value to their Masters. I can’t imagine getting off from being tortured. Will you explain that to me this weekend?”

“I would be glad to little one. Since you have accumulated a few punishments before making it through the first two hours, I will be able to teach you about pain first hand. You just happen to have the possible implements of your punishments right here in front of you slave. Sort of a ‘chose your own pain’ moment don’t you think?”

I was just kidding her but she still had to ask that obvious question anyway, for self assurance purposes.

“You aren’t planning on torturing me are you? That devious look on your face is scaring me Sir.”

“You are going to experience pain in a good way and the only torturing I have planned for you will be my not allowing you to cum any time you want to. You know damn well that I’m not going to cut you up and feed you to the coyotes.”

“I’m sorry Sir. I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. I’m just a beginner and we are standing here in front of some really mean looking torture devices. My mind started running away with itself I think. It does that every now and then Sir.”

“You don’t have to pick any of these little one. Just move on to the next section if that is what you would prefer.”

“I really do want to move on. I really don’t want to get any of these items on this wall. And I really don’t want to NOT get any either. I trust you with all of my being. If I pick a riding crop, will you teach me how to enjoy pain and arousal at the same time? I hope you will keep it at a level that I can actually tolerate. I have no idea what that level is but I have total confidence and faith in you that you will know exactly how far you can take me in this area.”

“Karen. You are here to please me, not to lecture me on what to do and how to do it. When that brain of yours gets wound up, you immediately lose sight of your goals. Are you my submissive or are you just another average, every day risk seeking girlfriend picking a couple of gimmicks and gadgets to try out for fun and games? I am allowing you to pick a punishment device and making a choice that you are certain will absolutely please me. I do not want to hear your evaluation of my ability to know how to use it correctly. I am giving you an opportunity to participate in your search for the answers you are seeking here in Sedona. I have never allowed this with any first day submissive, first week submissive, or even a first month submissive. Your trust and faith is not as strong as you thought it was, is it?”

I was deliberately speaking just loud enough for some of the other customers standing nearby to hear very clearly. They even turned and waited for Karen’s answer, and she was definitely aware of this. Her head looked down at the floor in total humiliation and embarrassment. Her neck and face turned bright red and she started fidgeting and playing with her hands as she always does when unsure of herself.

“I am so sorry again. I keep doing everything wrong. My trust and faith in you is totally there. My trust and faith in myself leaves a lot to be desired. I know I am still grabbing at control at times when I feel so insecure without it. That need doesn’t just go away with the snap of your fingers Sir.”

I could see tears beginning to form in her eyes so I put my arms around her and gave her a tight ‘security’ hug. The people around us turned away while smiling and nodding to each other. Every couple in there had dealt with what Karen had just verbalized, and many times over. I was sure we would be repeating this exact conversation many times again also. It was part of the process of ‘awakening’. I whispered into her ear that I would never force her to experience more than I knew she could deal with on a positive level. Karen knows that I am very protective of her well being but I don’t think she realizes how much. She has been concentrating more on what these ‘toys’ can do rather than what I will do with them. I do need to keep her attention focused somewhat on their potential use even though I would only allow her to experience a very low level of any item that may cause pain. Not too focused though because then she will think she can get away with anything.

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Alexa and Logan had been together for almost 10 years now and for most of their relationship they had a pretty typical sex life. Nothing overly out there, just plenty of good old-fashioned banging. In the last year or so though they had each been getting a little bit more curious about new ways to enjoy each other’s bodies. It wasnt long after that they discovered they both had a more kinky side to explore. It seemed like everything she threw at him he ate it up. Alexa had a particular surprise plan for Logan tonight that she was looking forward to trying out.

On the drive home from dinner she started getting him turned on, resting her hand directly on his lap while she leaned her head on his shoulder and slowly traced her fingertips in circles on his balls. As he started to get hard and more pronounced inside his jeans she made sure his cock grew down his pant leg so she could reach every inch of it.

By the time they made it to the driveway he was rock hard and could already feel pre-cum in his briefs. For the last few minutes she’d been dragging her her fingernails up and down the full length of him with enough pressure that the texture of the fabric sent vibrations into him. As soon as the car turned off their mouths were locked together and she stopped the finger tease, instead massaging in to his crotch through his jeans, the foreplay on the drive had him so wound up already that she knew he would do anything for her tonight. His hand found its way up her skirt and he was teasing her clit through the lacy underwear she wore.

After tongue wrestling each other for a couple more minutes and massaging each other like horny high schoolers she let go of him in told him to go inside and make her a drink. That would give her enough time to get to the bedroom and make sure everything was ready.

A few minutes later he found her sitting on the bed, already completely nude and playing with herself. She motioned with her now wet finger for him to come to her and he wasted no time, slipping his briefs off and pushing her backward onto the bed.

She loved the way his weight felt, how strong he was but still totally willing to be her plaything when she wanted, even though he could use her as his any time. He was walking his lips down her neck and on to her chest, his hand sliding up her thigh once more. Her hands were on his body, his hips, grabbing his cock, she wrapped one hand around his shaft and slowly started stroking him while digging her fingernails in to his back with the other hand.

She thought about just going along with the action and letting him fuck her on the edge of the bed to a good first orgasm of the evening…But she didn’t want to hurry things along and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t last long once her plan was in motion. Even though he was good for two rounds without much delay between, she wanted to make sure he didn’t blow a load before she even got the toys out.

He was putting out enough precum that it was like lube for each of the slow strokes she was giving him. She felt his cock twitch in her hand as she slide the fingers of her other hand between his ass checks and grazed his hole, his breath caught. She’d stopped kissing him and told him to lay on his back, he obliged immediately. She climbed on top of him and whispered into his ear “I’ve got a big surprise for you, just relax and enjoy this.”

As she said this her fingers had wrapped around his balls and gave them a long pulling squeeze to really get his blood flowing. She kissed her way down his body, touching her lips every few inches until reaching his waiting hard on. She licked the full length of his shaft up and down a few times until stopping her lips over his balls.

She sucked and bit down gently on the loose skin of his sack, giggling as he rolled his hips up toward her at the sensation. She knew it was involuntary, but whenever he did that she imagined it was his subconscious way of presenting himself to her for whatever she pleased, especially when they were playing rough. As she toyed her tongue and lips over him she watched his cock bounce on his abs in time with his heartbeat, a low happy moan came out of him. She kept working over his balls with gentle kisses and sucks, occasionally humming against one of the orbs to add some vibration.

She had tried to fit both of them in her mouth at the same time before and though she could do it it didn’t leave much room for play, so instead she just sucked his right ball into her mouth and rolled it in circles with her tongue. Every so often she would trap it against the roof of her mouth and pushing into it with her tongue, or pull her head away to stretch the orb out away from him until she felt his body react to the pressure she was bestowing upon him.

After a few seconds she’d switch her attention to his other ball and go back and forth like that for a little while. She’d actually made him cum from nothing but ball play once, but that had involved a lot more squeezing beşiktaş escort and slaps and take forever. There was a steady stream of pleasure noises coming from him above her now, and while he was fully distracted by her oral tricks she reached down to the side of the bed and grabbed the bag of toys that she stashed there earlier.

After a particularly firm tongue session on his left ball had his breathing shaky she sat up and flipped around so she was straddling his abdomen.

69ing was a regular part of their sex life even before exploring kinky play, and one of his favorites for mutual pleasure. they’d quickly realized that it also provided her a great position for accessing all of his fun parts and being able to see what she was doing while enjoying his tongue herself.

Sometimes she wouldn’t even use her mouth and just let him go to town on her while she tried out a toy or just tease him with her hands until she’d already had an orgasm. He had told her a little while back that the longer she toyed with him before he came the stronger the orgasm, so she didn’t feel bad at all making him wait for his release.

She rolled her hips forward and slid her legs under his arms so he couldn’t reach anything but her backside, at the same time pulling his balls out away from his body to get his attention. She stopped moving when she felt his breath on her labia and held herself there so that he could see nothing but pink. She softened her grip on him and said “you’re gonna feel a lot tonight baby, don’t you stop licking though”

His breathing was already heavy, and hearing that put his anticipating through the roof… It wasn’t too often that she took control of the bedroom like this, and whenever she did it made for one hell of a ride. She pushed her hips back the last couple inches and immediately felt his tongue against her. She fondled him for a bit longer while she enjoyed the attention he was paying to her clit then let go of his package entirely and opened the bag between his legs.

She pulled out the first toy she had in mind, a stretchy cock ring that now looked like it would be quite snug on him. She grabbed the lube and squeezed a bit onto the ring, then got another large blob on her hand and slid it behind his balls to massage the slippery liquid in to his perineum, his whole body twitched again as soon as her fingers made contact with his asshole.

She had put a finger inside him a few times before, but this time she just left a lot of extra lube on the outside of the tight little knot. Once she finished with that she brought her hand back to the base of his cock to hold it and started to push the cock ring over his head. He responded to her pushed back with his hips, thrusting himself in to the ring and stretching it over his head. She slide it all the way down to the base of his shaft as far as she could.

Almost immediately the organ seemed to grow a bit now that the ring was trapping extra blood. he moans loudly for the first time, tickling her clit and making her take a quick breath. The ring had an extra loop for his balls and she held it open with one hand and tried to slip the both of them through with the other. He made a grunting noise under her from the sudden pressure, but she knew he enjoyed that sort of thing mixed in to their play.

There was no way both were going to fit through the loop at the same time, so instead she worked most of the skin of his sack through the opening and then pushed each nut through the ring in to the waiting pouch one by one, eliciting another twitch through his body as each compressed slightly to pass through the snug opening. With his package neatly arranged in the cock ring it was time for her to bring out the next activity.

She poured more lube on to him and loosely wrapped her left hand around the base of his dick stroking up and down its length very slowly, surprised by the effect the tight ring was already having on the organ. He was decently well endowed as it was, but the trapped blood was making the whole thing notably bigger and hard as wood, not to mention the amplified texture of every vein and ridge now standing out.

She couldn’t wait to get this thing inside her, it was a whole new toy of her own. She let out a moan and could feel herself getting more wet as she thought about what it would be like to ride him in a little while. His muffled grunt and thrust response let her know that he was looking forward to whatever she had planned also…

She reached in to the bag of toys again with her other hand and pulled out a slender metal rod about 8 inches long that had flared bulbs down its length with narrow sections in between. Each bulb part was a little bigger than the last, starting as big as her pinky fingernail and the last one was at least as wide as her finger with a ring on the end to hold on to. The sex shop had called it a “sound” and she’d seen them used in a few porn scenes to great enjoyment. Supposedly escort çapa it could be a little “intense” for the guy the first time, so she just had to make sure there was plenty of lube.

He let out a little hum underneath her as he felt the cold steel touch him, she traced it up and down the outside of his shaft a few times and around the ridge of his head until coming to rest at the opening of his cock, already slick with precum and lube. His whole organ pulsed at the sensation of metal resting against its opening, almost as if beckoning the toy into itself. Alexa obliged the invitation and slid the first inch into her boyfriend’s waiting urethra. His body reacted sith a ripple of anticipation and he moaned again in to her…sounded like enough affirmation for her to keep going!

She held his penis vertical and balanced the toy above the waiting hole. His cock was rhythmically pulsing and relaxing in her hand and with each relaxation gravity alone pulled the rod down into him bit by bit. Almost half the rod had disappeared into him by the time one of the bulbs came to rest against the outer opening of his cock, too large for just the weight of the toy to bring it any deeper. The previously small slit of his urethra was notably larger now that it was stretched around the intruding sound. She was so distracted by the scene that she hadn’t even noticed his mouth had stopped moving against her, apparently this new feeling was plenty distracting to him too.

Snapping back to her task at hand she rolled her hips against his face to remind him to keep it up, eliciting an immediate jitter of pleasure through him and a particular hard flex of his dick that pushed the rod back up and nearly all the way out of him before she stopped the exit with her hand. “Not so fast big boy! this cock of yours has fucked me more times than I can count, it’s my turn to fuck it back a little bit!”

He was literally vibrating underneath her at this point as she pushed the rod back down in to him. She slid it in past where it had stopped at before, feeling little jolts of resistance release as each next bulb slid into the narrow opening with corresponding jolts in his body. She pulled the rod almost all the way back out of him and a surprising amount of precum came with it. she twirled the last inch or so around inside him before plunging it in again, this time pushing a little harder until she had buried all but 2.5 inches in to him.

The last two bulbs had put up a decent amount of resistance and the little “UMPHs” that came from him as each one popped in meant he definitely felt the stretch. She might’ve even asked him if he was still doing OK if he hadn’t immediately upped his efforts with his mouth and pulled her hips tighter against his face in response. Instead she just added a bit more lube to the part of the rod that was still outside of him and kept right on going.

This time when she pulled it back out of him those same bulbs put up enough resistance that she actually had to use the ring at the end to pull harder. She pulled it almost all the way out of him, but didn’t give any pause before plunging it back down his length again and then immediately reversing back out. She was pumping 6 inches of the toy in and out of him as if she was stroking his cock from the inside out.

After a few strokes she realized that she could actually feel the bumps of the rod sliding up and down inside him underneath her other hand still wrapped around his shaft. The sensation must’ve been wild for him given his grunts and moans, at the bottom of each stroke the widest bulbs made audible squelches as they popped in and back out of his urethra and he was basically frozen under her, unsure if thrusting against her movement would be too much to handle.

After a minute or two of pumping the toy inside him she realized she’d stretched him out enough that the toy went in a little deeper, so at the bottom of the next stroke she gave it one final harder push and got three more bulbs into him than she had yet, accompanied by a yelp coming from him as the last one slipped in. She gave a few light tugs on the ring eliciting new yelps from him, but his organ was holding on tight and the toy didn’t budge. Perfect, she thought, there’s no way that’s slipping out before I’m ready for it to.

She let go of him entirely again and let him bask in the sensation of his cock being stuffed full. It was bobbing around a bit but the metal rod inside him held it almost perfectly straight instead of the usual slight curve toward his belly. Alexa admired the glistening red member that was larger than she’d ever seen it as a result of her work so far.

She reached in to the bag again to collect her newest addition to the toy collection. She wondered if he had any idea what was about to happen to him as she held the vibrator next to his cock to compare size, really she wondered if he could think about anything at all right now besides his present cihangir escort physical sensations.

The new toy wasn’t quite as long as he was, but It had an extra wide part a couple inches from the tip, supposedly to make it easier to keep it inside and against his prostrate. Right there at the widest part it was easily as thick as he was. She drizzled more lube on to the toy and switched the vibrator to its lowest setting then began rubbing the toy around on his package, making sure to coat every part of it with the lube except the flared base that she was holding.

The vibrations wiggling through his trapped balls were more than enough stimulation to keep him intrigued, so she ignored his dick entirely for this part. She was in no hurry this evening, and she knew that he was enjoying himself plenty.

She turn the vibrator up to the next setting and started pushing the tip directly into the ring around his balls with a little more force, separating his balls to either side of it. The resulting moans and increased motion of his body let her know that he was loving it. After a few more seconds she slid the vibrator up the underside of his dick, as she did so she could feel each bump of the rod inside him. She keep moving it slowly up the shaft until it left his skin and was only touching end of the rod inside him.

When she reached the top of the metal rod she pushed the vibratory against the very end of it, pressuring it slightly deeper in to him and transmitting the rather strong vibrations straight down the metal to the very core of his genitals. Her other hand wrapped around his balls like she was holding a microphone so that both nuts were pushed together as far down into his sack as they could go.

She could feel the vibration from the toy emanating through his entire package. After switching the vibrator back-and-forth between his balls and the tip of the rod a couple of times she brought it down to his perineum, sliding up and down the ridge of skin in between his balls and his asshole. Each time she passed the tip over the his tight hole she held the toy there for a few seconds. At the same time she would squeeze her other hand to put more pressure on his trapped balls. The 10th time that she did this she didn’t move it away, instead pressing the tip lightly against his back side. While she held it there and let him fully experience the new sensation she repositioned one of her fingers to get a better grip over his balls.

As she started to apply more pressure on the raised orbs she pushed the toy harder into him until the first inch of the toy slid inside, the reaction in his body was instantaneous, fingernails digging into her ass cheeks, a vibrating moan that she felt as much as heard from between her legs, and his whole body lifting her up as he arched his back. She only saw him react this way when he was almost climaxing, and she knew he was on the edge of exploding.

She held everything still just like that as he wiggled under her for 5 seconds or so and then slipped the vibrator out of him, relieving the pressure on his balls at the same time and wrapping her hand around the base of his shaft, squeezing hard for a solid 10 count. This was a little trick she’d read online to back him off the edge of an orgasm, and she had just barely stopped in time to prevent this one.

Lifting herself off of his face enough so that he could respond, “did you like that baby” she said. Before he could verbalize anything though his cock pulsed again in her hand and he pushed up against her, it was like she felt both his heads nodding yes at the same time… He was speechless and completely lost in the pleasure.

She turned her attention back to his balls, this time just softly fondling them around with her fingers as she lined up the toy with his back door again. The moment the glistening tip touched his hole he tightened in anticipation, making his cock bounce at the same time. She leaned forward to tease the rigid organ with her lips lightly kissing it, at the same time steadily pushing the toy harder and harder in to his back side. She didn’t realize how hard she was actually pushing until he let out a breath and relaxed for a split second. the moment he did the resistance she was pushing against disappeared and the vibrator slid almost its entire length in to him all at once.

His body reacted, but too late to stop the intrusion. Instead the tightening of his ass locked down on the toy behind the wide part, pulling it even deeper in and holding it there inside him when she tried to back it out a bit. He had to have at least 4 or 5 inches of it in him now, and his whole torso was writhing under her rhythmically with the vibration pattern. Instead of pulling it out of him she just moved it in slow circles inside him.

She found his prostate on the second circle, evident by the involuntary twitch that happened each time she pushed in to it. She started making the circles smaller so that the toy spent more time against the internal pleasure button. It took him a minute or so if this treatment until he finally relaxed in to the sensations enough that she was able to pump the toy in and out of him a little easier, making sure to hit the ‘cum button’ inside him on each pass.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

He led Anne downstairs to his basement while Francesca waited above. A pair of blankets lay on the floor (a quickly improvised mattress) next to feed and water bowls for her. He left and turned out the light.

Anne’s nerves were on edge. Every breaking twig, every owl hoot caused her to sit upright in the darkness. She heard the basement door open and cowered in fear; but it was Thomas.

“Francesca has gone home; she wants you to stay with me for a few days. Is there anything you need?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Are you frightened?”

“Yes, sir.”

Thomas gave her a hug, his rough clothing against her skin, and brought back a year-old memory. On the evening of the day she met Francesca the sleeve of her owner’s silk blouse brushed the tip of her breast and her nipple rose to meet it.

“Lie down and try to get some sleep. I’ll stay with you till morning comes.”

Anne remembered no more of the night; but when she woke in the filtered daylight of the basement, he was still sitting in a wooden chair keeping watch over her.

Her head was much clearer now. She thanked him for his protection and he hugged her again, closely for over a minute.

He ascended the stairs and waved at her before locking the basement door.

Anne stayed with Thomas for several days. Her hands remained bound behind her for discipline at Francesca’s insistence, but she was not tethered. She knelt before him each morning as he came down to greet her and refill her bowls.

On the second day, he let her come upstairs. The blinds were drawn against prying eyes outside. He said Francesca would not be visiting until it was safe, but he was sure Anne was very much in her mind. She thanked him for his consideration.

They had breakfast together; Anne knelt at his side just as she did with her owner, comforted by his presence. After ensuring she was provided for he locked her in the basement.

He returned in the afternoon and let her out to the back yard. Picking up a tennis ball, he threw it across the yard for her to fetch. She ran after it, took it up in her mouth, and dropped it at his feet.

They did this several times. Once after Anne chased the ball and picked it up she paused and rolled on the lawn. How good it was to be outside in the sun with this man.

She lay on her back and closed her eyes for a moment, absorbing its rays and feeling the grass beneath her.

She looked up to find Thomas standing over her. Embarrassed, she quickly rose and knelt as he took the ball from her mouth. “What’s the matter, Anne?”

“Oh. Oh.” She stammered; “I shouldn’t have done that sir, I was thinking of myself; my owner will be angry.”

“Well, I’m not. You’re quite appealing like that. Roll over again for me.”

She did and lay waiting for her chastisement. “Fetch.” He threw the ball and they resumed their play, but something had changed.

That evening she cooked dinner for him and sat at his feet afterwards. Absentmindedly she even laid her head on his knee as they talked. As he took her downstairs he said “Anne, I’d like to use you tonight. May I?”

No one had asked her permission for so long that she did not know what to say; they simply told her to lie on her back or kneel or bend over.

“Yes, sir; that’s what I’m for.”

Afterwards as they lay on the blanket she did something she had not done for years; she kissed him.

She had never kissed Francesca; that would be wrong, Francesca owned her. And most of her other partners were either inaccessible to her mouth or in it. Thomas kissed her in return and they lay pressed together. After a quarter hour, he got up. She knelt at his feet.

He smiled down at her, checked her bowls and went up the stairs.

Anne’s head whirled with new emotions. Since her adolescence, she had only two kinds of relationships with men. In her former life she used them to advance her career. In this one, they were masters who used her for pleasure or profit.

Her feelings toward Thomas were different. She desired him, she obeyed him, but she felt something more. She was concerned for his safety, and even his happiness.

Was she just being a slut again? Trying to make sense of it all wore her out and she sank bağcılar escort into sleep.

It rained the next day and they played fetch in the basement. Thomas rolled the ball across the stone floor and Anne ran carefully after it, took it in her mouth and dropped it at his feet. Sometimes it rolled under a chair and she had to crouch beneath; she lingered there with her hips exposed to attract him.

It must have worked; afterwards he took her on the blanket again and let her eat her evening meal upstairs. Buried in her bowl of feed pellets was an apple slice. She touched her head to the floor in gratitude and he stroked her hair for a minute before putting her downstairs.

An hour later Francesca came over. Anne could hear her talking with Thomas in the living room above her head, but she did not go downstairs. She was probably too busy with more important things.

Thomas came down to her after Francesca left; he said Francesca asked him to say hello. Anne thanked him, then boldly kissed him on the cheek. That night and each of the succeeding ones he stayed with her. Reflecting on them afterwards, she sometimes wondered if they really happened or if she had dreamed them.

One day just before sunrise someone knocked at the front door; she heard Thomas open it and speak briefly. The door at the top of the stairs opened and two large men in dark suits descended.

One attached a leash to her collar, the other a leash to the bracelets. The three returned up the steps to the front room. Thomas was nowhere to be seen as they led her outside. Had they surprised and overpowered her protector?

She was secured front and back, as the man holding the collar leash preceded her and the other walked closely behind. Whoever they were, she was their captive. The air was chill on her bare skin as they passed Francesca’s house; Anne saw a truck in the yard but no signs of life.

The three walked briskly through the awakening town; only a few early risers were up at this hour. They viewed the group with concern or outright fear; some crossed the street rather than approach them.

An icy sense of terror grew in her stomach as the plant guard let them through the gate without a word; silently they went around the main building to a section of grounds in back that Anne had never seen before, to an old stone building in a thickly forested area.

She hesitated as she stood on the threshold; the second man placed his hands on her hips and shoved her rudely inside.

They took her to a narrow cell with stone walls and a slate floor, about halfway down a short hall. The first man fastened her neck leash to an iron bar set in a hollow of the floor. The second fastened the leash behind her to it as well, forcing her to kneel. She saw the heavy door close and heard a bolt secure it.

Anne lay down on the cold floor. After a while she drank a little water and ate some pellets from bowls in the corner. There was a generous quantity – more than she got at home – and it had a pleasant nutty flavor.

She made a brief effort to guess who had ordered her taken here. She did not know if she would live to see tomorrow but she knelt and resolved to accept her new master. She owed it to those who trained her.

Around midday – it was hard to tell – two men, different from the first, entered the cell. They took up the leashes and led her outside to squat, for which she was profoundly grateful. When they returned her to her cell, the man in front secured her leash to the floor but the other left the one on her wrists free.

It dangled over her buttocks and the back of her thighs like a leather tail that called attention to itself with every movement. She passed the time by swaying with it and catching it between her legs.

Some hours later, the men came for her again. Each holding a leash, they took her outside as before; but instead of returning her to her cell they brought her past it, past another like it, past a sparsely furnished bedroom with drawings on the wall of nude women, to an artist’s studio.

Naked except for her collar and bracelets, Barbara greeted her. Anne knelt at the secretary’s feet.

“Welcome to Mr. Kessel’s cottage. escort bahçelievler He doesn’t live here himself, though he stays overnight with me sometimes. He wants you here while he has your cell at Francesca’s repaired; it’s more secure than that man’s place where you were.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Anne dared not say more; she felt her life hung in the balance and remained on her knees.

“He says it should take another week; then you can return home. Till then you’ll be his guest here. I hope your cell is comfortable? It’s the same as mine.”

“Yes ma’am, very comfortable, thank you.”

“You’ll stay here in the daytime too – your owner thinks it’s too risky for you to come to her office yet – and after work I’m going to sketch you. I might even be able to do a painting of you for my owner. That’s Mr. Kessel – Georges,” she added in case Anne didn’t know. “Get up. I’ll start right now; step over this way.”

Anne assumed the first of a variety of poses under Barbara’s direction while she made rapid pencil drawings of her subject. After sunset as the natural light dimmed, one of the men came forward and leashed her; another did the same for Anne, and the two women were led to their cells for the night.

Barbara’s was next to Anne’s; some time in the darkness she heard its door opened. Several minutes later Anne thought she heard a woman’s cries muffled by the heavy stone walls, but Barbara gave no sign of it the next morning when they were taken outside.

Anne had much to think about that day, lying alone on the floor. She remembered Georges from their first encounter in the library of Mr. Schuyler’s estate after dinner. He favored the narrow passage of her rear, and assaulted it so suddenly that she panicked and closed up.

This angered her owner and she was on the brink of being sent away for termination when Francesca saved her. She calmed Anne down by stroking her buttocks and speaking words of encouragement until Anne was relaxed and ready for use.

And he was happy with her then, though she was worn out and limp when he was done. If she could please him again it might benefit Francesca’s career.

She must be more ready this time and open herself to him; there would be no one to rescue her if she failed. She practiced receiving him, imagining his sudden thrusts for most of the afternoon, even looking forward to them.

Barbara returned after work and a guard brought Anne to her for more poses and sketches; she added detail to them with Anne taking various positions at her direction until the outside light began to fail and they were led back to their cells.

The third day was much the same as the previous one, until the afternoon. Georges and Barbara awaited her in the studio. The guard holding her leash pulled her forward onto a large table while the other spread her feet apart on the floor.

Georges penetrated her at once and Barbara laid out the sketches before him. They discussed the suitability of each to be made into a formal portrait.

Pinned and helpless, she moaned while he worked her over with the vigor she recalled. He told Barbara to elaborate on four favorites: hanging by her wrists, spread on the frame (front and back), and bent over a table as she was now. When Georges was done with her, the guard led her back to her cell for the night.

Barbara spent the next afternoon elaborating the four sketches with shading and color. To soften Anne’s features she asked one of the guards to use the whip on her.

Emil was a large, heavy man with fingers like sausages but his touch was subtle. Anne opened emotionally to him at once. Barbara said she looked “like a saint approaching martyrdom” and asked Emil to prepare Anne for all her poses.

She showed him how to produce a delicate pattern of pink welts that complemented the network of pale lines from earlier whippings. Anne hoped to attract him, but he had a wife and children; her efforts went unrewarded.

Francesca said nothing as she worked, but just before they were led away to their cells she told Anne “Mr. Kessel likes you, you know.” Anne did not have time to reply before they were separated.

On the next afternoon he was bakırköy escort to return and select the pose he wanted. Two guards brought Anne early to the studio; one bent her over the table and sprayed her with scent while the other pulled her cheeks apart. The cold droplets stung her exposed flesh while he held her open to dry.

Georges must have complained about her; Anne, who had always been so fastidious about such matters in her previous life, was deeply chagrined. With her hands tied she was unable to attend to her hygiene when it would be most useful. Still, the scent was a pleasant one: floral but not sweet, one that might appeal to a man.

But their efforts were wasted; Mr. Kessel had Anne take him in her mouth. She struggled as he held each of the drawings at arm’s length and discussed them with Barbara.

He was slow to harden and she feared she was failing to please him. But after he selected two poses from the lot he began to respond, sighing a minute later as he rewarded her efforts. He remained in her while he told Barbara to do the hanging and table poses as life size portraits, before dismissing Anne to her cell.

Barbara worked on them over the weekend with almost superhuman energy. Perhaps some reward, or punishment, awaited her.

Anne was suspended for hours until her hands went numb, or lay bent over the table and fought off sleep for most of the day, occasionally pinched awake when she failed to respond. Barbara even stayed home from work on Monday to finish them before final inspection, though Anne was no longer needed and stayed chained in her cell.

When the guards led her into the studio that afternoon, she was overcome with joy to see Francesca standing next to Georges and Barbara. She fell to her knees at Francesca’s feet as her owner took up the leash and chatted with Georges. She thanked him for the portrait of Anne suspended; for his own house he had selected the one with Anne bent forward.

“I think she is most useful that way”, he observed wryly.

“It does show her to advantage,” Francesca agreed.

He also made Francesca a gift of two color drawings. Anne stood up as Francesca shook her leash, and after a final round of thanks and goodbyes her mistress led her out the door of the cottage.

She crossed the company grounds, out the main gate, and through town to her house. As on their first day, Francesca led her in the front door and through the living room to her cell. She pointed out the changes made to it in Anne’s absence.

“They were thorough; this door is metal and the skylight is barred. Your wall is still wood on the inside, but they added a layer of masonry.”

“It’s very solid, ma’am.”

“The lights in the ceiling burn all the time, for those things.” Anne looked up to see two cameras focused on her. “If anything happens security will know at once. Georges has a display as well – he was very particular about that – and so do I in the other room. Now look at those chains.”

Anne stared down at the heavy links. “I’m going to padlock your collar and your feet to these.” She held up two massive locks. “It was Georges’ idea to use two chains; it will take twice as long for anyone to cut you free.”

“That was very good of you, ma’am; thank you. I should be safe here now.”

“Now let’s have dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am; what would you like?”

“I have some spaghetti, left over from last night when Thomas was here. Just reheat it, that should be plenty.”

Anne prepared her mistress’s dinner and poured feed out for herself; they dined quietly. Francesca seemed pensive and Anne dared not ask the cause.

Afterwards, when she had done the dishes and put them away, she knelt at Francesca’s feet.

“I have some news for you, little one. Thomas and I might decide to live together. It could be awkward having you around. I have to think about this.”

A great fear came over Anne. The garrote would be her fate after all; Paul explained it to her, and everyone said so. She gave herself to him knowing what to expect.

“Very good then.” She gave Anne a peck on the cheek. “Now to bed.” Anne stood up and followed her owner to the enclosure. Francesca removed her leather leash and secured one chain to her collar, then did the same with the other chain and her ankle bracelets.

“Oh no, they’re too short. You’re stretched out like a pig at a barbecue.” Francesca contemplated her for a minute. “A very attractive one, though. Maybe you could – no, not tonight, you’ll have to stay there.”

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