Mystery Woman – 750 Word Challenge

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

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

Bbw

She pulled on his cock painfully. She had her left hand down around his balls, pulling down on them and her right hand around his shaft. She was not delicate, and it didn’t exactly feel good.

Except it did. Tim felt the familiar feeling of pleasure of impending orgasm deep inside, but he was not there yet.

“Tell me when you are close…” she said. “I want to keep you on the brink of orgasm for some time.”

She continued to work his cock. Alternating fast strokes and using different pressure to grip his firm erection.

“I love having men like this…in the palm of my hand.” She said.

Tim started to laugh, but she gripped his cock so hard when he did, it stopped him mid-laugh and he winced.

He first saw her at the pizzeria that afternoon. He knew everyone in town, but he’d never seen her before.

What struck him most was her beauty. Her look. She was not “from here.” Somewhere far away, exotic and pretty. Sexy, he thought to himself.

Dark hair, with just a touch of curl in it, çiftlikköy escort maybe mid/late 20’s. A good ten years younger than he. Her skin was flawless and she had the darkest blue eyes…

She caught him staring at her and returned a confident “don’t-fuck-with me” vibe. He looked away.

He didn’t think too much about her other than that she was very pretty, and she caught him staring at her. He would have forgotten all about her – he was busy and had several firewood deliveries to make that afternoon.

But then he saw her again as he pulled back into his farm at the end of his long day. There she was…that same damn woman. This time, buying firewood at his roadside firewood stand.

She was pretty and he was a good conversationalist. They got to talking. She was staying at a nearby Airbnb, he learned. One thing led to another, first he was loading a $20 stack of wood into her car for her and then the next thing, he knew, they were in his living room…

It çınarcık escort was her eyes…

“I am not going to fuck you, but I am going to see you naked.”

Tim was shocked, but she had made a bold first move.

“Strip naked.” She said matter-of-factly. No woman had ever approached him like this before. He found it exciting. Thrilling. And he did as he was told.

“Now sit on the couch” she ordered.

This was new to him and he was exceedingly aroused. His cock was fully erect as she stood over him, examining his body.

“Do not touch me.” She ordered. I am going to take your cock into my hand and tease you. Has anyone ever done that to you before?

Tim just nodded. He was suddenly intimidated by her. Not quite afraid, but he felt as if he was under her spell somehow. It was the way she carried herself.

She started slowly at first, lightly rubbing and caressing his balls, which got him fully erect. Her other hand covered his mouth. He could çorlu escort speak if he wanted to, but it was a power move on her part.

She was fully in control.

She continued to stroke his cock. He felt very aroused, but her movements were so slow that he thought he might never cum.

“Tell me when you are close.” She told him. “Has anyone every denied you your orgasm before?”

Tim shook his head negatively. He dared not speak. He was taken way off guard. He could have easily overpowered her or ordered her out. He was in good shape, but something inside him made him obey.

She began to speed up her stroke on his hard cock. He was immensely turned on.

“I am close” he finally said through her hand, which was still covering his mouth.

She slacked off and gripped his cock slightly less hard and less vigorously. He “sank” back from the brink of cumming as she slacked off.

It was frustrating. Maddening.

He wanted to cum so badly.

“That’s a good boy. You will learn the joys of tease and denial.”

All Tim could do was whimper a bit. He was close and she was letting him down. He wanted to cum like he always had, but this mystery woman was holding him just below cumming.

When she left, his cock was raw and sore. He wanted to jerk off and finish the job, but he could not.

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

My Life with Jasmine Pt. 06: Orgasms

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

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

Asian

“Sweetie, do you know what today is?” Jasmine asked, as I finished cleaning her kitchen.

“Tuesday, Miss Jasmine.”

She laughed. “You are so adorable. You’ve given me fifteen orgasms. Today is orgasm day.”

I received this news with trepidation. “M-miss Jasmine, please don’t ruin my orgasm.”

Jasmine sighed. “How many times must I tell you: I am not Lisa! I will never do that. Your behavior may cause me to skip one, but when you earn one, I will make it memorable.”

“Oh! Thank you.”

“I’m very pleased with your service. And you respond well to punishment.”

“I’m sorry about your boot.” When she had warned me about her footwear, I did not realize that I had to check every pair in her closet. When she discovered a scuffed boot, I discovered Footstool.

“You didn’t enjoy being my hassock?”

“It was …”

“Boring? Frustrating?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“As I intended.” She stood and led me to the bedroom. She dropped her robe, sat on her bed and crossed her legs. “Is there anything special you would like?”

“I-” hadn’t thought about it. Jasmine aroused me so much that I tried very hard not to think about having an orgasm. “Could I worship your feet?”

“Of course! Would you like me bare? Or pick out your favorite pair of shoes. Can you deep throat a high heel?”

“Oh!” Suddenly I knew what I wanted. “Could we do a 69?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Oral sex is an act of submission. I dominate.”

“Yes, Mis Jasmine.”

“But that is not the only reason. When I’m in your mouth, the only thing that matters is my pleasure. Your arousal is irrelevant. In fact, I have tried to make some of our encounters less arousing.”

“You have? I don’t understand.”

“After my run, wouldn’t you rather I shower before I face fuck you?”

“No.”

“But I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care. What matters is that you want sex while you’re on your runner’s high.”

“Oh. But don’t you find sucking me off while I’m on the phone humiliating?”

“No.”

“What about making sure you don’t stain my PJs while I flirt?”

“I like when you make me do things like that.”

“You do? Why?”

“It’s a way for me to amuse you while I prove my devotion.”

“So… you’re not unhappy about anything I make you do?”

“There is one thing…”

“Yes? Go on.”

“Miss Jasmine… Could I please cum more often?”

“You may not.”

‘But-“

“I find our current arrangement satisfactory. Besides, you get to enjoy my orgasms, vicariously. Except for right now!” She clapped her hands. “Get your clothes off.”

“Yes, Miss Jasmine. I love you.”

“In that case, you can give me a show.”

“Aww, Miss Jasmine!” Of all of the things Jasmine makes me do, giving her a strip tease was the only one that felt humiliating. I have a decent body, but I hate having to prance around like some kind of male dancer.

“My girlfriend Tiara owns She Girls. I’m going to ask her to give you some lessons. Besides, she wants to fuck you.”

“Miss Jasmine!”

“What? You said you wanted a 69. Tiara gives as good as she gets. And you’ve never had chocolate she-beef.”

“But I’m for your exclusive use!”

“Loaning you to my friends is exclusive. We borrow each other’s things all the time.”

“But- I only want to service you.”

“Then then get to it. Unless you want to lick Tiara’s tootsie roll.”

I started moving seductively while I undressed.

“Shake that booty,” Jasmine demanded as I dropped my boxers.

I turned away from her, and complied. When I looked over my shoulder, she was fully erect. Without asking permission, I dropped to my knees between her open legs. Normally, I tease the head of her cock with my lips and tongue. But today I engulfed her as deep into my mouth as I could. I steadied myself with one hand, and rubbed her thighs with the other. She grabbed my hair tight enough to cause a hint of pain, while exerting her control.

She grunted with satisfaction, and lay back on the bed. Then she wrapped her legs around my head. My world was reduced to her warmth, her scent, and of course, her demanding presence in my mouth. The closer she came to completion, the tighter she squeezed her legs. It was like being held in a soft, warm vice. But the discomfort did not stop my well-practiced tongue. A few minutes later I swallowed what I called a Protein Shake.

“God damn, sweet lips!”

I got myself cleaned up, and then I gently cleaned her. I kissed cebeci escort her cock. “Thank you for your cum.” I kissed her again. “I’m glad you enjoyed my dance.”

Jasmine stood up, and laughed. “I’ve decided what I’m going to do. Lie down on the floor.”

I obeyed.

“Not like that. Be my floormat.”

I scrunched around until I was lying face up, parallel to Jasmine’s bed. She stood over me and brushed my lips with a bare foot. “Stay put.”

When Jasmine wore stockings, she also wore a garter belt. I know, because I had to put them on her, and remove them and wash them. Now, she stood over me while she pulled a set on. The view was spectacular, and my manhood responded appropriately. After she purposely bent over me to smooth the stockings, she perfumed her feet. Then she spread a towel over my stomach. She sat on the bed and started to massage my manhood with a stocking covered foot. “Do you like that?” she asked.

I opened my mouth to say “Yes, Miss Jasmine,” but she pressed her other foot against my lips so my answer was too muffled to understand. She picked up the pace. I began to moan and push my manhood against her foot.

“If I were you,” she said in that condescending tone that I loved and at the same time feared, “I would not ejaculate until I have received permission.”

I had just serviced Jasmine, which always aroused me. My face was covered with her perfumed foot, and her other foot felt like a hand as she curled her toes around me. I wanted to scream my desire to cum, but her foot pressed down and it came out as a series of muffled grunts.

“What? I can’t understand you.”

Her latest movement made me squirm. I couldn’t stand it. Again, I tried to speak to no avail.

“Dear me! How can someone with such a talented tongue speak so poorly? I guess you don’t really want to orgasm.” She lifted her foot from my cock, but not from my mouth.

Now I bucked myself off of the floor, trying to get back in contact with her foot.

“Oh, my goodness! Do you want my foot?”

“Esss! Esss!” was the best I could manage.

“Oh, very well. But I have not said you can cum.”

This pattern repeated itself until the inevitable. It was so intense that I lost consciousness for a few seconds. When I woke, Jasmine’s clean foot was on my chest. She had crossed her legs and the foot that I had soiled was dripping onto the towel that I had also made wet. “Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked gently.

“Oh, God, yes. Thank you! I tried to ask-“

She giggled. “I know. Now, take my stocking off. Clean yourself and my feet, then handwash my stockings and my towel.”

Not a drop of my mess stained her carpet.

A week later, I was under the kitchen table having second breakfast. Jasmine stroked my hair and said, “Step it up, sweetie. I have a surprise for you.”

I took her deep into the back of my throat, and at the same time I lightly scraped her sack with my fingernails. She came so hard she shoved my head into the underside of the table. It didn’t hurt that much, and her pleasure was worth the pain. After I gargled, cleaned her, and thanked her for her cum, she ordered me into the bedroom.

“Strip. Lie down on your back.” She turned the lights out and disappeared into her bathroom. A few minutes later I felt the bed shift as she lay down. Then she crawled on top of me, and whispered, “Open your legs, bitch.”

I obeyed, and she positioned herself between them. Her breasts pressed into my chest as I felt her weight on top of me. To be in the girl’s position under Jasmine was my fantasy. I put my arms around her.

“You like this?” she asked, as if she didn’t know.

“Yes! I-“

“Quiet!” She reached between my legs, grabbed my erection, and slid it … inside her?

“What-?”

“I said quiet.” She began to move. The sensations around my manhood were indescribable, even though I did not understand what was happening. I had to constantly thrust my hips to reach her. She was aware of this, and taunted me. “Come on, boy! Work for it! Make me feel it.” Between taunts she kissed me, using a lot of tongue. Each time I begged to cum, she pinched a nipple and told me to be quiet. I held off as long as I could, then screamed as I released.

After I could breathe again, she rolled off of me. “Did you like that?”

What a silly question! But before I could answer, she said, “I know you’re confused. Come on, you need to clean up before you drip on çekmeköy escort my sheets.”

I followed her into her brightly lit bathroom. I thought she was nude, but she was wearing a skintight, flesh colored panty. That was odd; Jasmine always wore thongs.

“Take it off of me, and I will show you how to clean it.”

I dropped to my knees to pull the panty over her hips. It had an opening shaped like a lady’s- “What the-?”

“Go on,” Jasmine ordered.

As I pulled the panty down her legs, I saw an inside pocket into which Jasmine had tucked her she-beef. Thanks to my recent ministrations she was flaccid, else she would not have fit. I leaned forward and kissed her.

“Later, sweet lips.” She stepped out of the panty and I stood up with it in my hands. The opening led into a stretchy, sleeve-like compartment.

“Here,” Jasmine said as she took the garment from me. “This is how you empty it. Now, use lots of soap and water.”

“Miss Jasmine, what is this?” I asked as I cleaned the odd garment.

She sat on the counter, and crossed her legs. “The official name is Artificial Vagina. But Tiara wants to call them Pussy Panties.”

“Huh?”

“You do know that Tiara and I have formed the company Trans Erotica?”

“Yes, Miss Jasmine.” She and Tiara often talked while I was under Jasmine’s desk.

“Genital Gloves was our first product.”

“What are they?”

“Don’t you remember the first time I gave you an orgasm?”

I remembered Jasmine flooding my virgin mouth. I remembered being under her while I worshiped her ass. I remembered a phenomenal orgasm. I didn’t remember gloves.

“You seemed to enjoy them. They’re genital stimulation gloves. And they absorb the inevitable mess. They are a huge success, so we’ve decided to expand. Dominant transwomen don’t want anal penetration, but we still want to give our subs the occasional treat. And, some ciswomen can’t have vaginal intercourse.”

“Oh.”

“You are our first beta tester. Did you enjoy your experience?”

“It was wonderful. Being under you is my fantasy.”

Jasmine chucked. “I know that. But next time you’ll be on top.”

“What? No! That would be disrespectful.”

Jasmine folded her arms, never a good sign. “What is disrespectful is saying ‘no’ to me.”

Ever since the first time I had sex, I thought the so-called missionary position was insulting to the lady. I should be underneath her.

“Please, Miss Jasmine, don’t make me do that.”

“I’m not going to make you do anything.” She rubbed me with her elevated foot.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. However, your next orgasm will only happen when you fuck me.”

My next days were “interesting,” as in may you live in interesting times. Jasmine required me to bathe her and give her a full body massage more than usual. I had to brush her hair and style it so it tumbled around her face in soft, sweet-smelling waves. I had to change her toenail polish every other day.

Usually, when we were home alone, she wore her robe, or a T shirt with jeans or shorts. Now she wore skimpy crop tops with stretch pants or short shorts. Sometimes while I dressed her, she would purposely hold up a piece of sexy clothing and solicit my opinion. One day she made me accompany her while she shopped for a “schoolgirl outfit.” She wore either high heeled strappy sandals, or if she was in shorts, running shoes with ankle socks. For the former, I had to perfume her feet. The later emphasized the muscles in her legs.

She used my mouth in the morning, after breakfast, in the midafternoon, and once during dinner. I earned my next orgasm in less than a week. Even though I knew that being on top of her was disrespectful, my manhood betrayed me whenever I thought about it. I’m sure she was aware of this, but she did not speak of it. Instead, she was sweet and very demonstrative.

Things came to a head one mid-morning when she rang for me. She was still nude after the massage I had given her, and she was lying on her bed, propped up with pillows. “Strip for me,” she ordered and crossed her ankles.

Unbidden, I thought about Tiara, who was statuesque and curvaceous. In my neglected state, it was too easy to imagine kneeling and worshiping her chocolate lusciousness. By the time I was nude, I was also aroused.

“Aww, look at you,” Jasmine said. “I want a foot rub.”

Another one? I sat on the bed, and put one of her feet çerkes escort in my lap. She lifted her other leg and brushed my face with her perfumed foot. I very nearly sobbed with sexual frustration.

“Is something wrong?”

“Please, Miss Jasmine! Can’t I have relief?”

“Of course! When you fuck me, I promise to make it special.”

“It’s not right.”

She kicked me. “Then get back to my feet.”

While I worked on one foot, she rubbed me with the other. At one point, she pushed her big toe past my lips. Finally, she tired of her game. “Lie down beside me.”

“Yes, Miss Jasmine.” I obeyed.

“Face me. Closer.”

When I turned on my side, my manhood rubbed against her.

“I hope you know better than to leak on me,” she warned. But when I started to pull away, she reached over me and slapped my buttocks. “Stay put. Put your arm around me. Put your leg over mine. Now, fondle one of my breasts while you kiss the other one.”

I obeyed, and she shuddered with pleasure.

“Very good. Suck my nipple … That’s it. Do you know how to give a hand job?”

“I- I’ve never-“

She slapped my head. “Keep your mouth on my breast. Rub me with your leg, and get your hand between my legs.”

I reached down and gripped her semi-erect she-beef. When she sucked in her breath, I knew I was doing it right. But I was required to consume every drop of Jasmine’s cum. The one time I failed, I had to skip an orgasm, and receive a painful spanking. If she came because of my thumb… “Let me take you into my mouth.”

She smacked my head again. “Your mouth is busy.”

“Please, Miss Jasmine?” I spoke around my erotic mouthful.

“Please let you fuck me?”

I did not want to be punished! “I … Yes, Miss Jasmine.”

“Beg me!”

“P-please, Miss Jasmine, may I- I f-fuck you?”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes!”

“Do you apologize for your behavior?”

Her cock pulsed in my hand. “I’m sorry-“

“Are you sure you want me in your mouth?”

I could feel her leaking. “Please?”

She slapped my head, again. “Get to it.”

I sucked her pre-cum off of my fingers and got her into my mouth. Jasmine is pretty reasonable about how much of her I can take in. But now she was annoyed. She arched her hips, while pushing my head down. “All of it! And do not let me hear gagging!”

The best way to not gag when your mouth is filled to capacity with an angry transwoman is to not breathe. I held my breath and tried to use my tongue as best I could. When she eased up, I knew better than to let her slide out of my mouth.

She began to bob my head up and down, faster and faster. Then she pinched my nose. I knew she was mad, but I was still determined to give her as much pleasure as I could. Finally, she let my nose go – a second before she flooded my mouth.

I gulped and swallowed and swallowed some more, and got every drop without gagging. I used my tongue the way she liked, and slowly let her slide out of my mouth while making sure she did not drip. “Thank you for your cum,” I whispered, and kissed her limp organ.

Jasmine grabbed me by the hair. “Are you ready to fuck me?”

My manhood stiffened at the thought. “Yes, Miss Jasmine!”

We headed to the bathroom. I gargled and washed my face, then I knelt and cleaned her. I helped her into the Pussy Panty. As I got in bed, she grabbed me and pulled me on top of her. She kissed me, and pinched my nipples. She spread her legs and I got between them. Then she reached down and slid me inside.

The sensation felt as good as the first time, and I began to thrust. Jasmine wrapped her legs around me, then CRACK! I felt a line of stinging pain across my buttocks. At the same time, she said, “Harder, bitch!” CRACK! She lashed me again. The combination of pleasure and pain was phenomenal. And, even though Jasmine was underneath me, she was still in charge.

“Fuck me hard, and do not cum until I say you can,” she commanded.

Each time I begged to cum, Jasmine answered with her whip. This increased my pleasure, and brought me closer to the inevitable. When I finally succumbed, she whipped me continually until I was drained.

“Go clean yourself,” she ordered. She followed me into the bathroom where I washed myself, then I knelt and removed the Pussy Panty. After I had emptied and cleaned it, I knelt before her. “Thank you,” I whispered.

She stroked my head. “You’re welcome, Sweetie.”

“May I ask for a big favor?” I gazed up at her.

Jasmine chuckled. “If you want to do that again, you’ll have to earn it.”

“Could we please go back to bed and cuddle?”

Again, Jasmine chucked. “Sure, why not?”

A few seconds later I was spooning with her. I nuzzled her hair, and drifted off to a deep, untroubled sleep.

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

My Best Friend is a Domme Ch. 07

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

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

Adriana Chechik

I pulled up in front of Patty and Ben’s apartment building and texted Patty to let her know I was here.

She had told me to pick her up at 10:15 this Saturday morning and I was right on time. She said we were going somewhere and it was a surprise where. I hated surprises, but she seemed to like keeping me in the dark.

It took her a few minutes to come down. When she exited the building and walked to my car, she looked amazing. She wore tight black slacks and low, shining black boots. Her purple shirt hung low on one shoulder, exposing a black bra strap, and she wore her brown hair in a pony tail, which was unusual for her since she usually wore it loose.

“Hey sweetie,” she said as she stepped into the car, kissing me on the cheek. She smiled broadly and her eyes twinkled. “You feel like going somewhere?”

I smiled at her, feeling my love for her. “I don’t know, where are we going exactly?”

“Oh yes, here is the address,” she said, handing me a piece of paper, showing an address in her large, curly handwriting.

I entered it into the GPS. It was in the city, about 45 minutes away.

As I drove off, she asked me: “And, have you been doing your practices?”

“I have, mostly,” I said.

“Mostly?” she said as she raised an eyebrow. “What’s that about? Why not all?”

I felt reprimanded already. “Well, I did try the deepthroats, but I’m making just a little progress. I can keep it the back off my mouth for a few seconds now, but as soon as I try to move it I still gag pretty bad.”

“Hmm,” she said. “Keep practicing, you’ll get there eventually. What about riding your dildo?”

“That I’m making great progress on,” I said proudly. “I just skipped one day because of, well, some internal distress.”

She chuckled. “Okay, I’ll let that one day slide then.”

“I’m really curious about where we’re going,” I said as I merged into the busy traffic on the freeway.

“I guess I could tell you a little about it,” she said, amused at my curious expression. “I realized a while back I don’t know that much about those kinky things we have been doing lately and I wanted to know more, so the last few weeks I have been hanging out on a Discord server for Dommes.”

I had already figured as much when I saw the website the other day. “Really?” I said.

“Yes,” she said, grinning. “I’m still not sure if I could qualify as a Domme or if I even want to be one, but I love pushing you around and obviously you need some serious help to control your urges, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to learn a thing or two about bdsm and such.”

I glanced at her face briefly. She was loving this, that much was clear to me.

“So I started chatting with some very nice women. Well, mostly nice,” she chuckled, continuing her story. “And I chatted a lot with one of them in particular. She invited me over so she could teach me some things and she said to bring my sub, as she calls it.”

I swallowed. This might be, well, exciting I guess. But it felt a little intimidating as well to be meeting a Domme I didn’t know.

“Who is she?” I asked.

“All I’m saying for now is that she has a lot of experience,” she said, smiling mysteriously at me, gaging my reaction. “She has been a professional Domme for over 30 years.”

That even startled me a little.

“Wait, we’re going to a pro Domme?” I asked.

“No, *I* am going to pro Domme that I befriended, and you are just here as an adornment,” she stated, making sure I knew my place. “And to drive me,” she added, giggling.

I was really nervous as I parked the car at our destination. It was in a residential neighborhood in a quiet part of the city. There were some apartment buildings as well as some larger houses in this street.

“That must be it,” Patty said, pointing at an inconspicuous, small, single story building. It had two visible windows, which only showed closed drapes.

We got out and walked there. Patty rang the bell and we waited as I felt my heart in my throat.

The door was opened by a woman in a black, leather dress, with a slender figure and a friendly, round face. She looked to be well into her fifties, early sixties even maybe.

“Hi Patty, it’s so nice to finally see you in person,” she said heartly as she opened her arms and gave Patty a generous hug.

“Hi,” Patty just said, hugging her back.

“And who’s your friend?” the lady asked as her eyes briefly looked me over.

“This is Conrad,” Patty said.

“Hi Conrad,” the lady said, shaking my hand. She had a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Maggie.”

“Hi Maggie,” I said, feeling very shy.

“Why don’t you come on in?” Maggie said and with her arm she gestured into the hallway.

We stepped into a very small hallway with black walls. It was so small we barely fit in there with the three of us. There was a coat rack and a low shelf for shoes, not much more.

“Please, would you take of your shoes?” Maggie asked. “Sometimes people walk barefoot inside, so I would like to keep it clean.”

Patty wrestled her small boots off, leaning her butt against the wall for balance, çatalca escort while I kicked off my sneakers. Then Maggie led us the way into another room.

This room wasn’t large, but what made it feel even smaller were all the things in there. It had red walls that were absolute packed with bdsm gear. I saw leather straps, chains, cuffs, bars and whips, and that was just one of the four walls. There were shelfs with hoods, masks, metal devices like chastity cages and ball stretchers. There were metal hooks and bars hanging from the mirrored ceiling. It was just crammed with all kinds of bdsm gear.

I kept looking around the room. There was a black massage table, or probably a bondage table I realized. A saw a gynecologist chair with large, black leg supports and a bondage chair with a straight back. It smelled like leather and latex.

The room felt nice, but it was really intimidating for a guy like me. I had never, ever seen so much gear and torturous devices in one place and I was absolutely dumbstruck when entering this amazing room. And not just me, Patty was looking around the room with eyes like saucers.

Maggie set up two wooden fold up chairs. “Please, have a seat,” she said. “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please,” Patty said.

“Yes Ma’am,” I said.

Maggie smiled at me, saying: “Oh, aren’t you polite.”

She went through a door I assumed lead to a kitchen or something, while Patty and I sat down.

“This room is amazing,” Patty sighed as she put her hand on my upper arm.

“It is, isn’t it?” I replied, still looking around, spotting something I hadn’t noticed yet ever second. “A bit scary though.”

Patty grinned at me. “Yes, I suppose for you it is.” She chuckled. “I just see a lot of fun possibilities once I figure out what all these things actually are.”

I looked at her and saw the naughty twinkle in her eye I loved so much.

Maggie entered with two mugs of tea and handed them to us before sitting down in a large, throne like chair across from us. Her presence, combined with the leather dress and throne made me feel really, really small.

Maggie smiled at Patty, saying: “So, you like my studio?”

“Yes, it looks amazing. But I hardly know what all these things are to be honest.”

“Oh, that’s alright, you’ll learn. And they may look nice and of course everything has it’s purpose, but you don’t really need any of these things to control your friend here,” Maggie said. “Just a few small household items can be enough to have a lot of fun dominating him. Any other gear is just bonus.”

“I see,” Patty said. Even she seemed a little bit intimidated by the setting and the charismatic woman.

“Oh, speaking off gear, your order is ready. Remind me before you leave to hand it to you, in case I forget.”

“Oh great!” Patty said.

I just looked at her, wondering what she ordered. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t.

“So, what is it you would like to learn today?” Maggie asked. She deliberately seemed to address only Patty, not really ignoring me, but somehow making me feel I was there just as an adornment, as Patty had called it on our way over here. “What are you most curious about or what would you like to accomplish?”

“I’m not sure actually,” Patty said as she sipped her tea. “I would like to know a little more about bondage I guess. And maybe get some ideas on how to control him and make him squirm. I like it when he squirms.” She giggled.

Maggie smiled. “I see, and what kind of things have you been doing with him up to now?”

“I like teasing him and make him feel a little embarrassed, which is really easy since he’s pretty shy. I got the keys to his chastity cage, so he usually easily complies with whatever I tell him to do.”

“Oh, so you control his penis already,” Maggie said, smiling. “Do you discipline him? Or torture him even maybe?”

“I’m not sure. How do you mean?”

“Well, have you ever spanked him or used a whip? Or have you tied him down?”

“No, none of those things,” Patty said.

“Would you like to?”

“Yes, definitely,” Patty stated clearly. I looked at her briefly and saw her face light up and her eyes twinkle again. Her reaction pleased me, but it scared me a little as well. And it made me realize that, although I was very committed to pleasing her, I knew very little about what would actually please her the most.

“So, if you would like to do things like that, why haven’t you done them yet?” Maggie asked.

“I don’t know,” Patty said. “I thought about spanking him for instance, but I haven’t since spanking him if he didn’t do anything wrong seems unfair. And he never does anything wrong, really.”

I felt my cock wake up from it’s slumber at the thought of Patty spanking me, especially her wanting to spank me and thinking about such things.

Maggie smiled understandingly. “I see. You know, spanking or whipping him, or maybe even torturing him in a way, can of course be used as punishment, but you can also do it just because you like too. Just because you like to çaycuma escort see him squirm or hear him beg.” She smiled friendly at Patty.

“Really?” Patty seemed to think about that. “What if he doesn’t like it?”

“Well, for starters, you don’t play with him because he likes it, although it’s fine if he does. You play with him because *you* like it. Right?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Patty said.

“And secondly,” Maggie said as she looked at me, “you can just talk to him about it. Would you mind if Patty spanked you just because she wanted too?”

I felt excited. “No, not at all, I would love that actually. And even if I didn’t really like it, I really want to please her, so unless I would absolutely hate it, I would gladly take some suffering for her if she want me to.”

“See?” Maggie said as she shrugged.

Patty just looked at me lovingly, her face aglow with appreciation and with her naughty twinkle in her eyes.

“Have you talked about limits? What not to do?” Maggie asked.

“No, not really,” Patty answered.

“You should. Let him make a list of what he really doesn’t want to do and allow him to change it at any time. That will give you more room to just do what you want to do and less worries about if he hates it or not.”

“Ah, I see,” Patty said, nodding.

“And he should have a safe word, so he can stop you if something gets too intense.”

“That he already has,” Patty said like a student who was proud she had at least one answer right.

“Good. So, lets find out what you want to learn. Why don’t we get into action? Maybe you just take control of him as you’re used to and I help you find out how to do things?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” Patty said.

I swallowed nervously at the idea of Patty being taught how to control me, or spank me maybe, or even torture me, by a professional Domme. But this lady seemed to know what she was talking about and the idea of Patty playing with me in her presence excited me as well.

Patty looked at me with a friendly face. “Is that okay with you?” she asked me.

“Yes, absolutely,” I said.

“Okay then. Start by stripping.”

I got up and was about to take of my shirt when I realized Patty usually wants me to strip in another room. “Over here?” I asked.

“No, of course not,” Patty said. “In the hallway.” Then she looked at Maggie and asked: “Is that alright?”

She just smiled and nodded. So I took off to the hallway and started taking off my clothes, trying to ignore the fact that I was getting a little hard in my cage already and people were going to notice I got turned on sooner or later.

To my surprise I wasn’t as nervous or embarrassed to return to the room as I thought I would be, but I still covered my cage with my hands as I entered, feeling shy about being naked with two clothed women.

Maggie and Patty were standing at the bondage table. Patty was studying large, heavy looking leather cuffs while Maggie explained to her what features made them good cuffs to use.

“Come here,” Patty said as she noticed I had returned. “Give me your arm.”

I stretched my arm out as I was told. Patty took the cuff and wrapped it around my wrist. Maggie showed her how tight they should be as Patty closed the heavy, metal buckles. Then she put the other cuff around my other wrist. Next she squatted behind me to buckle the matching leather cuffs to my ankles. They felt heavy on me and the leather felt rough, but what impressed me the most is how more submissive I felt just by wearing them.

Maggie lowered a metal bar with black rubber handles, shaped like the handlebar of a bicycle, from the ceiling.

“Do you mind if I instruct him a little, so you can see how you could work with him?” she asked Patty.

“No, of course not, be my guest,” she said.

Maggie motioned me to stand under the bar. “Hold the bars,” she instructed. I raised my arms and wrapped my hands around the bars. I had no idea about what they were going to do with me and that alone was highly exciting for me.

“He’s nice and smooth,” Maggie noticed. “Do you shave?” she asked me.

“No, I had him waxed,” Patty answered her for me.

Maggie smiled. “Oh, that’s a good choice,” she complimented Patty.

Maggie returned her attention to me, but kept talking to Patty as she said: “You see, it’s easy to instruct him to stand like this. He will probably keep standing like that if you tell him too. But if you do this,” she said as she suddenly put her hands to my sides and squeezed my flanks, “he will let go off the bars.” And she was right, I had been startled enough to let go without even noticing it myself.

“So,” Maggie continued as she picked up two metal hooks, “that’s why I like to make sure he will stay in that position, even if I touch him.” She hooked my cuffs onto rings at the ends of the bar.

“Oh yes,” Patty acknowledged.

“It will feel very different for him. And he isn’t going anywhere. Not even if you tickle him,” Maggie said, putting her hands to my sides again, tickling me really hard.

I started çayeli escort laughing and screaming and before I knew it I was involuntary yanking on my cuffs and the metal bar as I squirmed in a futile attempt to get out of reach of Maggie’s tickling fingers to the point I actually had pulled my feet of the ground, hanging by the heavy duty cuffs.

Patty was laughing hysterically at my predicament. Maggie seemed to genuinely enjoy teasing me like this as well.

“Here, you try it, he’s your sub,” Maggie said, stepping back.

Patty looked me straight in the eyes as she tickled my sides using her fingernails. Again, I squirmed, laughing and yelling, yanking my bonds and trying to get out of reach.

“There, he’s squirming,” Maggie stated. “Easy, right?”

“Yes,” Patty giggled. She stopped tickling me and waited for me to relax.

Maggie hinted: “He does make a lot of noise, don’t you think? Maybe you could do something about that?”

Patty nodded, getting the hint, and looked around the room until she noticed a ball gag between the hundreds of items on the walls. She took it of its hook and stood in front of me, ready to put it on.

“That will go on easier if you stand behind him, so you can see the buckle,” Maggie hinted. “It’s always better if you can see what you’re doing, especially when they try to keep you from tying them up.”

Patty walked around me, letter herself being taught by the experienced Domme, and held the ball in front of my face. “Open up, perv,” she said with a loving tone in her voice.

I complied and she put the rubber ball in my mouth, which tasted, well, like rubber, and felt way bigger than it looked. She buckled down the straps behind my head.

Maggie looked at me and said: “If you have to use your safe word while you can’t speak, you just turn your head from side to side and say ‘uh-uh-uh’ really loud. Or you snap your fingers, okay?”

I nodded, indicating I clearly understood.

Then Patty stepped in front of me again and looked me straight in the eye, gaging my feelings. She silently put her hands on my chest, letting them rest there for a second. I loved looking in her eyes like that and I felt really slutty and submissive, tied up and with the red ball in my mouth. My love for her warmed my heart for an instance.

Then Patty curled her fingers and dug her nails into my skin, just below my collar bones. Without batting an eyelash and still making intense eye contact, she moved her hands down, painfully scratching my skin. She went down across my chest, just between my nipples, down to my stomach.

“Mmmppff,” I moaned in pain. I fought the urge to close my eyes and I managed to keep looking at her without blinking. I didn’t want to break that amazing eye contact. The combination of the pain and the deep connection we made by looking at each other like that made it a very erotic experience. I felt the stripes she made with her nails burn a little as she lovingly smiled at me. The lingering pain made me feel alive.

“You two are certainly cute together,” Maggie noticed, as she observed the rookie Domme think of more ways to torment me. And when she did think of something I could see it in her eyes immediately. She went from a loving smile to evil grin just before she moved to stand next to me, on my left, so she could rub my shoulders with her right hand. Using one hand this time, she dug her nails into my skin again, just below my neck, and slowly dragged them across my skin, along my spine, all the way to the top of my butt crack.

I moaned against the gag, this time closing my eyes, enjoying the painful but very erotic sensation. I loved suffering for her. And I loved her touching my naked, tied up body.

She traced the marks she just made gently with her hand, from top to bottom, as if she wanted to sooth my skin. When her hand reached my ass, she gentle petted my left butt cheek and then my right. Then, suddenly, she raised her hand and slapped my right cheek. It made a really loud clapping sound and it stung. I moaned loudly into the gag, more in surprise than in pain.

Then she slapped my left cheek, then the right again, then back to left, going back and forth in a steady, slow pace, making sure every slap counted. She was looking at my face mostly as she spanked me.

It hurt quite a bit. I found out I loved this kind of pain, but the longer she continued, the deeper the stinging sensations seemed to get. Soon each spank felt like an explosion of stinging needles.

I noticed I was moaning into the rubber ball on every smack and I felt saliva running down my chin. I tried to keep it in my mouth, but I couldn’t, making me feel even more helpless.

After a little while I started moving more, involuntary, instinctively trying to evade the hand that hurt my poor, burning ass again and again.

“Try to put your body into him,” Maggie said. “See if you can keep him from moving too much.”

Patty paused spanking me as she pushed her body against my side. My butt tingled and glowed as I felt her small boobs press against my naked flank. She pushed her belly and pelvis against my body and lifted her left leg a little to block me from going forward. I could feel those strong thighs press against my smooth, naked thigh and knee as I smelled her scent. She wrapped an arm around my stomach and held me tight as she raised her hand behind my back again and slapped my butt.

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

Moroccan Vacation

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

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

Anal

Fantasies cannot simply be dismissed. They exist and form one of the pillars of a person’s psyche. Jill was a woman who desperately yearned to experience the thrill of being a sex slave. She had heard stories of foreign countries where sex slavery was legal, and she longed to experience that freedom for herself. Her fantasies took in the stories she found and they backstopped her fantasies and desires. It became a need, not just a desire to experience sex l submission to the level a sex slave knows.

Jill was 32 years old, a blond woman with northern European features though she was from Boston. She was 5’5″ tall, slender with a mostly athletic figure because of her exercise regimen though her somewhat large firm tits made it uncomfortable for running, but was a favorite feature with her lovers. She was between relationships having dumped her most recent boyfriend of over two years just three months earlier. She was a confirmed heterosexual and didn’t entertain switching teams even temporarily.

Jill decided to take a vacation to Morocco, where it was said that real-life slave markets still existed. She was terrified that her four-week vacation may be extended into a permanent one.

She’s heard about people, particularly white women, who went to Morocco and just disappeared. The police were known to spend significant resources to find those women. However, the police knew exactly what happened, and only a few of those investigations bore fruit, but always with a body found after being killed during the initial training. These were used as examples of the government attempting to help end trafficking but the truth was the opposite. Her fear instead of steering her toward safety, instead fueled her forward.

Arriving at Marrakesh’s Menara airport, her panties soaking wet at what she hoped would happen. She looked around the baggage claim area of the airport where men with small signs were all clamoring to be seen. Each sign held the name of the traveler that they were there to pick up and take to hotels and resorts in the city. Jill found her name on one such sign. It was held by a well-dressed man who looked like a professional chauffeur. A name tag on his shirt said his name was Mohammed.

She allowed herself to be taken to his car where he put her bags in the trunk and they were off to her hotel.

During the drive she asked about the city and the sights she passed on the way to the hotel. She told him to take a scenic route so she could see some of the city before she settled in to rest after the long flight. As he drove he talked about some of the famous sights and events like camel trips over the Merzouga dunes as well as the many hot air balloon flights available.

Visiting the Bahia Palace was suggested but when the historic Medina market was mentioned her eyes lit up. Although Medina market is not a slave market, the idea of a market interested her and she asked where the fabled slave markets were. Mohammed said that’s not something that exists anymore and he changed the subject.

Mohammed spoke good English, somewhat with a British accent. Apparently he had spent some years in England working as a contracted driver for the Moroccan officials living in London.

As they toured the city they drove past an old market. Mohammed describes the market as an exotic place where various wares are displayed and sold. Jill asked, “Is it true that slaves used to be sold at that market.” Mohammed, who gets that question nearly every time he drives a foreigner past the market, explained that, “Yes, slaves had been sold there for centuries.”

Jill began to react to the descriptions of the merchandise since Mohammed focused in that women were the focus of that market. In a small voice, Jill asked, “Are women still sold there.” Mohammed avoided answering the question but instead asked, “Why is the thought of slavery of women and girls was so interesting for you western women.”

Jill said, “Many women had fantasies of being sold for the pleasure of men.” Mohammed and Jill talked more about such women and Mohammed admitted that he had driven several foreign women who wanted to see the inner workings of the market as merchandise.

Mohammed got the idea that Jill had exactly that intention. Mohammed finished by saying, “I’m sure you’d look delicious naked on the auction block. If you ever decide to explore that fantasy for real, be sure to call me first. I would love to train you and sell you.” Jill’s pussy exploded with that statement.

Finally, they arrived at her hotel and Mohammed carried Jill’s luggage inside. Jill, still regaining her composure as she followed. He left her with her bags at the check in desk reminding her he could arrange a more eventful exploration of the market and other fascinating sights if she really wanted to experience it. Her face went blank, then a telling smile.

Jill had prearranged a tour guide, named Kassim, to see the traditional tourist sights. In her preliminary discussions she told the guide that she wanted to see bursa rus escort the famous slave market looking toward the historical aspects. Kassim was not new to western women wanting to see the inside of a slave market that sells women and warned her that she might not find what she was looking for, but she was determined to try.

When they arrived at the slave market, the Jill was filled with excitement. Kassim talked to the guard at the gate and slipped him some money to let them in the back door. He let them in and Kassim showed Jill the auction area. There was not a sale today he told her.

She was a bit disappointed but she wanted to see more. Kassim took Jill down to the holding cells. Jill entered one of the cells and looked at the chains that had held slaves. They were empty but she saw the shackles attached to the wall. She picked up one of the manacles on the floor and tried to fit them on her own wrist. She knew that this was what she had been searching for.

Jill imagined being taken to a room, forcibly stripped naked, and taken this cell and chained to the wall to await her fate. After a bit, she got her wits back and asked to see more. Kassim took her to the auction block next. Because there wasn’t a sale that day the audience area was empty. Only a couple of guards saw Jill and Kassim. Kassim motioned Jill to step onto the action block and he asked her to display herself as if she was to be sold.

Jill’s quivering hands reached for buttons on her blouse to start undressing. Kassim let her get to her underwear then stopped her. He said that she couldn’t go any further and told her that selling slaves was a thing of the past, left to the more thrilling aspects of history.

Jill needed to be chained naked on that auction block. Not a desire, but now a need and Jill knew it. A bit later he took Jill back to the hotel. She was disappointed she couldn’t go all the way. As Kasim left her at the hotel, he said to her, “I’m sorry miss, that market is now only a museum of the past and real slave auctions no longer happened there. It’s kept in the readiness in case the King ever changed the law back to the old ways.”

Back at the hotel, Jill took a bath and as she soaked she imagined herself back at the market, naked in the cell along with dozens of other women, some white, and others local. She stroked her tits with one hand and pinched her nipple. Her nipples were sensitive, but she continued to pinch and pull them giving pain and pleasure. Her other hand found her clit.

Jill imagined herself on display naked as buyers examined her. Hands groping her all over. Fingers and objects forced into her cunt. As she rubbed her nub, she imagined herself on the auction block being prodded by the Arab auctioneer.

The auctioneer would offer her body to the bidders in Arabic pointing and poking at her naked body. The auction continued as the bidding went on and eventually, she was sold. An attendant attached a leash to her heavy iron collar then led her off the block and back to the cells awaiting her new owner. She came, and came as the fantasy of the auction ended.

She then decided to call Mohammed to arrange a real experience. Jill held the phone, her hands quivering, and said, “Mohammed, your slave needs to be sold.”

Mohammed expected her call. He had met enough lonely, obviously submissive female foreigners to know that her desires would bring her to him. As he hung up the phone, he smiled as he looked up his contacts in the white slave trade. He was to make the arrangements then pick Jill up at her room at 9 PM to begin her trek into her darkest, and favorite fantasy.

Mohammed knocked on the door and Jill opened fully nude. She had been told to be nude as a sign that she was a thing, not a woman. She felt the thrill of her fantasy coming true as Mohammed locked an iron collar around her sexy white throat. He added matching cuffs to her ankles and finally her wrists behind her back. A large, red ball gag was added and she willingly let him buckle it behind he head.

A chain leash was attached to the collar and she was openly led out of the room. She was led to the elevator. When the door opened she saw two other Arab men who smiled and one Arab woman who commented that she should get a good price as the woman pulled her left nipple firmly.

At the lobby, the elevator opened and she was led right through the middle and out the front door as if it was an every day event, a nude bound slave on a leash out with her master.

Mohammed opened the trunk of his car and had Jill get in.

Surprisingly, there was already another naked similarly bound white slave already in there. Jill got in with the other slave and Mohammed closed the trunk lid. Off they drove for about two hours. Fortunately it was night so the trip wasn’t too hot.

The car stopped and Jill heard Mohammed get out. He was gone about an hour before the car trunk opened. Two Arab women grabbed the two slave girls and attached leashes. büyükçekmece escort The women were local Arab women who were not slaves, but instead were Mohammed’s wives. They led Jill and the other slave into the house and down stairs into a dungeon.

Jill later found out that the other white slave’s name was Karen who also fantasized about slave markets and their merchandise. Each slave was put in their own separate steel cage after being given 10 minutes for using the toilet. They were told to sleep till they were to begin training.

Slave Karen was from Atlanta, with a 5’7″ frame with B cup tits. She was open to all sex and was very experienced for her age of only 23. She was a popular girl and enjoyed various kinks with her lovers of both sexes. She didn’t brag about her experiences but just quietly remembered them as she sat in her cage nude, her brown shoulder length hair all mussed up.

Around 10 Jill was awakened to one of the wives opening Jill’s cage to bring her out. She was given a few minutes for the toilet, then bathed. Karen was treated the same. Both girls were then fed a simple gruel, nutritious but plain and unsatisfying. It would be their food twice a day if they were lucky and performed their training tasks well. Once a day if they were mediocre, and nothing if they failed to please their trainers.

The wives were absolutely loyal to Mohammed, their husband. They didn’t care about the slaves plight. They knew they were willingly selected. They also realized that many such white women were not so willing by the time the auction came.

Nothing would get the wives to dissuade Mohammed on his chosen path. The wives were harsh yet enjoyed molesting the slaves sexually.

Around 11, Mohammed came down and brought both slaves up to the training area. The training area was a walled area behind the house about 20×20 feet. The wall was 12 feet high, solid concrete. In the training area were implements of torture such as a whipping post with a variety of leather whips hanging on the wall. A cross, for crucifixions was also there. A cell on each side of a mock auction block was very prominent.

On the walls were the two wives, stripped naked except for their minimal hijabs and bound spread eagle on the walls. They were being punished for their lesbian tendencies. The punishment was minimal because Mohammed actually enjoyed his wives taking lesbian liberties with the slaves and each other.

It was his responsibility to discipline the wives, but Mohammed loved whipping them and truth be known, the wives loved it too.

Mohammed told Jill and Karen that the training would take as long as needed to make them ready for sale, not a fantasy sale, buy a real one. He said he wanted them to be ready within two weeks and would severely punish any slave not working hard to be sold for the highest price possible. The wives would be the trainers. Each wife would train one slave. Jill was assigned to Fatima and Karen was assigned to Naomi.

Both wives were in their mid twenties and absolutely beautiful. Fatima and Naomi were both of Arab descent with olive skin and long black hair, though covered with the obligatory hijab in public. Each was very beautiful and very shapely though Fatima’s tits were much larger and firm. After Mohammed released his wives from the wall, they were allowed to dress.

Both women were dressed in traditional Arab garb for wives of a man of a significant position when in public. In private, they dressed to excite their husband as revealing as they could.

Naomi took Karen and bound her to the whipping post. She began with a cat O nine tails whip and warmed Karen’s body all over with it The strokes weren’t hard, just meant for Karen to get used to the whip. Between strokes Naomi pinched, poked and caressed Karen’s body. She paid particular attention to fingering her pussy and pinching each nipple. An hour of this and Karen was hanging in the restraints. Naomi then put her in one of the cells to rest while Fatima had her turn with Jill.

While Naomi whipped Karen, Fatima bound Jill between two pillars spread eagled. Her hands roamed Jill’s nude form, paying particular attention to her nipples. She knew the nipples were sensitive, which is why Fatima pulled and twisted them viciously. Jill screamed into her gag. Music to Fatima’s ears.

Whips of various types were applied to Jill’s body. On her back, the cat was used and produced many screams and left the skin quite red. On her tits, the flogger was used to similar effect. Lastly, the bull whip left stripes across both tits and back. After a while Jill hung limp but didn’t pass out.

Mohammed sat on a specially ornate chair in the cool of the house looking out his window at the training area watching how the training progressed. He stroked his cock as he watched.

Mohammed was also watching his own slave, an Arab teen do a strip tease in preparation to fucking her master. The girl was barely 18 and was a recent caddebostan escort gift from his best friend.

Jill and Karen are subjected to ever increasing torture. When one is being tortured the other is forced to watch. Back and forth for hours. Between different tortures there’s 30 minutes to rest then a bucket of water is thrown on them. After the water, then the whipping continues with a flogger while their skin is still wet thus accentuating the pain. By mid afternoon Naomi and Fatima are each expressing to each other that their arms are sore from the whipping, but they dare not let up because they know Mohammed is watching.

Jill eventually passes out and just hangs limp in her cuffs. She’s pulled down and caged. Karen’s turn was next anyway, so she’s put on the whipping post and her whipping continues despite Jill’s condition.

Nights are spent caged in the training area, not inside the house. The desert gets quite cold at night and the girls can’t even get together to share warmth because their cages are far apart. After four days of constant torture with little food and just enough water to survive, the girls break.

Mohammed and his trainers are experts at breaking young women who mistakenly are taken in by his friendly, empathetic talk of giving the girls the fantasy of their dreams, yet turning on them and making them real slaves. Mohammed’s position as a driver was really a front to him selecting and recruiting white women to be slaves. The white slave trade was Mohammed’s real business, one he truly loved.

Back in Marrakech, Kasim inquired at the hotel to see if Jill wanted to continue her tour of the historical sites and maybe some of the better markets for souvenirs. He was told at he hotel that Jill had checked out and traveled to her next city, Casa Blanca. Kasim didn’t question what he was told and went back to his office to try to get his next customer. Another white woman disappears without a care.

Day five began with Mohammed standing in front of his new slaves. He is holding a new collar in his hand, one for Jill and one for Karen. This new collar was not as harsh as the cold, heavy iron collar of their initial training.

This new collar was shiny steel with gold images of women being tortured adorning it. This collar they have to beg for. Mohammed said, “Jill what is your desire? This is your only opportunity to go back to your old life s a free woman. You must now declare your decision.”

Jill looked dazed and weak but she replied, “Master, please, please, collar this worthless slave as your property forever”, and after a few moments of her shaking, she said, “I am nothing, I am yours to do as you will.”

Mohammed then locked the collar around Jill’s neck, Fatima grinning like a Cheshire cat behind her. Fatima then leashed her and pulled her to the side. Jill kneeled next to Fatima as Karen was collared as well.

The rest of the day, the new slaves were taken to eat a normal meal of meat and pastry then were taken to begin training in various skills they would need as new slaves. Fatima continued to fondle Jill’s tits as she ate. After the meal, the girls were taken to the training room. There Jill saw two beds, and a TV.

“Slaves, get on the beds and spread your legs. You will not move.”

Jill got on the left bed and Karen on the right. Fatima then picked up a long thick object that Jill found out was a representation of her master’s cock was then put to her cunt. Fatima rubbed it on her clit and tested her wetness, and found her already very wet.

The life-like phallus then was pushed it in till it couldn’t go in any further. Jill felt both humiliated and excited. The dildo was then pulled out and Fatima tasted it and smiled. Jill smiled as well. She couldn’t help it, she was beginning to feel lust for her torturer and trainer.

“What do you want to do now, Slave?,” Fatima whispered into Jill’s ear. Jill said nothing and instead tried to kiss her.

“Please, Mistress, I am just a slave and have no desires other than to serve you and Master Mohammed.”

“Very good, slave, now get on your knees in front of me and bring me pleasure,” Fatima replied.

Jill got off the bed and kneeled in front of her, lifted her dress and began to lick her pussy slowly with determination. Before today, Jill had never tasted any woman’s pussy. Now she was hungry for Fatima. As Fatima enjoyed Jill’s tongue, she began to stroke the slave’s hair as her orgasm began to build then a few moments later it came with a shudder.

After Karen finished servicing Naomi, the girls were required to learn the fine points of sucking cock. It didn’t matter what experiences they had already and their skills, they were required to learn what Master Mohammed wanted. His cock was the sole judge of their skills.

At the end of the day, Mohammed was already tired from his various activities and he ordered Jill to come to him and attend him. Fatima told her, “Master wants your mouth slave, don’t embarrass me. If you do, you’ll regret it.”

“Yes Mistress,” Jill said as she got up to go with her to see her Master for the first time.

Jill’s fear was apparent as she was presented to Mohammed. Fatima removed the leash and told her to kneel in front of her Master. She did quickly and deliberately and waited for her first order. Mohammed looked her over.

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

Mistress Edna Pt. 01

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

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

Anal

The ashtray slave kneeled in front of his mistress, who stood towering over him. The slaves mouth was wide open, with his tongue stretched out and his head tilted back as far as it would go. His arms and wrists were shackled behind his back in such a way that his chest tightly extended forward. His body was lined with marks and scars from both Mistresses whips and cigarettes. His large cock, slightly swollen was pierced through the glans, a chain ran from his piercing to his shackled ankles. Several cigarette burns were also visible on the shaft of his cock.

Mistress was resplendent in a black leather pencil skirt, a cream coloured long sleeved silken blouse and long black leather gloves. Mistress was holding a long black leather covered cane, and a cigarette in a six inch black and silver tipped holder. Finishing off Mistresses dominant and stern look was her knee length black leather boots with sharp looking five inch stiletto heels.

Mistress lifted the holder to her crimson lipstick painted lips and took a long drag of her cigarette. After her deep inhale, Mistress blew a long stream of smoke into the face of the slave below her.

Lifting the cigarette to above his mouth Mistress tapped the holder with a leather covered index finger and the long ash of the cigarette fell into the slaves open mouth and landed at the back of his throat. All this time Mistress studied the face of the slave, watching to see if there was any movement or expression of pain or disgust.

Mistress expected and demanded the highest of service from her slaves and any discrepancy in their service would be met with quick and severe punishment.

Mistress Edna von Clark was a most sadistic and cruel lady, as was normal of all ladies in Femdonia.

All males are born as slaves and are seen as less than human, and to be used and subjugated by ladies at their will. To bring pain and suffering to a male was as normal as breathing to a lady.. It was seen that males responded best by always being kept in a state of pain or threat of pain. Without this, then the male may not work or serve to the best of his ability.

Mistress Edna had several slaves. Before her was her ashtray slave. Shackled in a cage in her boudoir was a muscular and well-endowed pleasure slave, and at that very moment in the kitchen where Mistresses butler and a work slave.

Mistress would also hire from time to time garden slaves, and when socialising at her home, extra ashtray slaves and cooks. The butler would normally cook, the butler being highly trained in cordon bleu cooking. The butler would also be in charge of maintaining the other slaves, watering and feeding them, as well as shackling çankırı escort them on command from Mistress.

Mistress lived in modest size country house with an attached stables. Below the house was a dungeon that all the slaves feared to enter, and several other punishment rooms were situated within and around the house. Mistresses personal favourite was the upper punishment room on the top floor of the house.

That room was simply furnished with a low whipping stool in the middle, above that hung shackles were the unfortunate slave would be hanged from his wrist so that he would be kneeling on the stool. This was for the comfort and connivence of Mistress Edna, as being quite diminutive in stature, at only five foot two and around five foot seven or eight in her high heels, a thus positioned slave was easier to be whipped by Mistress.

Along the walls hung various whips, gags, nipple clamps and instruments of pain and torture. An ornate wooden table and chair for Mistress was positioned near the large garden facing window. Upon the table were a few riding crops, an ashtray, a lighter and a black cigarette box.

The floors were uncarpeted, instead beautifully polished wooden floorboards graced the room. Most of the rooms in the house had exposed wooden floorboards, varnished and polished, with ornate rugs placed here and there. Mistress loved the sound of her high heels as she walked across the wooden floors and relished the fear that the sound would bring to the hearts of her slaves. Also having a bare wooden floor would make it convenient for the slave to lick up his blood, semen or excrement if any of it was dropped.

If Mistress Edna decided to punish a slave in the upper punishment room then the butler would be commanded to shackle the slave there in position to await Mistresses attendance. The large window would let in a beautiful light but in winter the room would be left freezing cold with no heating, so the naked slave would be hung there for sometime, lonely and shivering in the cold, and waiting in fear and anticipation for the entrance of his Mistress.

The indication that Mistress Edna’s entrance was approaching would be the gradual heating up of the room as the central heating was remotely switched on. It would take about twenty minutes before Mistress would enter, the time it took to heat the room to her satisfaction.

Mistress would generally always dress in exquisite leather garments and high heeled boots and shoes, in the winter Mistress would also wear beautiful fur coats and hats if venturing outside. Mistresses nails were long and immaculately polished and painted a gloss red çapa escort at all times and Mistresses black silky hair was fashioned in neck length bob. At fifty years of age, Mistress Edna looked at least ten years younger and her body was naturally toned and firm with beautiful full breasts.

Being of Italian descent Mistress Edna had a beautiful olive complexion and her lips were always painted with an expensive crimson lip stick.

Mistress Edna enjoyed smoking luxurious Dunhill 100’s although sometimes Mistress would prefer More Menthol 120’s and even the occasional slim cigar. When smoking a Dunhill then Mistress preferred to use a holder and nearly always insisted on a slave ashtray to be at her connivence. If, for some reason an ashtray slave was unavailable, Mistress would use a glass ashtray that one of her slaves would be forced to lick clean after use.

Mistress preferred her slaves to be kept strong and muscular and so they were forced to work and train hard and kept on a high protein diet, which consisted of a tasteless specially manufactured gruel that they were fed three times a day, and if Mistress was feeling particularly kind, then some of Mistresses left overs would be fed to the slave.

Often a slave may also be fed Mistresses golden shower as a special treat.

Mistress Edna’s pleasure slave was particularly handsome and had a large nine inch penis. The pleasure slave would be kept mostly in a cage at the end of the bed in Mistresses boudoir and would only be allowed out for toilet, eating, body training and of cause to pleasure Mistress. Mistress would particularly make use of her pleasure slave after a long punishment session of another one of her slaves. The more Mistress had tortured the unfortunate slave, the more the pleasure slave would be put to use.

A pleasure slave would be highly trained to be always ready to give Mistress pleasure. If the pleasure slave would fail to rise to the occasion then it would be likely that he would be very severally punished. Over the years Mistress had personally castrated several of her pleasure slaves who had failed to please her, the slaves often then being sold on as menial slaves to the government or kept by Mistress as ashtray slaves.

Being an ashtray slave of Mistress was by far the most demanding and painful position to be in. Mistress would smoke upwards of twenty or so cigarettes a day. Nearly all of those cigarettes would be extinguished on tongue or body of the slave and the slave would have to swallow the butt, as well of cause, the accompanying ash. Three times a day the butler would be tasked to clean the ashtray. çarşamba escort The ashtray slave would be forced to drink a special ‘cleaning’ fluid that would make the slave vomit and therefore clean his stomach out of all the butts. If the ashtray wasn’t ‘cleaned’ as such then the accumulated butts and nicotine would make the slave quite sick and render the slave out of action. An inconvenience to Mistress who would have to call in a replacement. Only extremely wealthy Mistresses forgo such a cleaning of their ashtray slaves, as they can afford to have several ashtray slaves always available in rotation.

Mistress would often keep her slaves in tight and painful chastity devices. Mostly they would be stainless steel cock cages with spikes that would painfully press into the slaves cock if any kind of erection or swelling would occur. Often, as well, tight clamps would be applied to a slaves nipples, the clamps ever being then attached to the slaves cock ring or to a leash that Mistress could then lead them around by. All slaves also had either thick leather or stainless steel neck collars, a leash often tied to that.

Mistress preferred to brand her slaves with a cigarette rather than a branding iron. A branding iron would leave a permanent mark were as a cigarette would leave a mark that would fade over time, Mistress could then reapply the temporary brand at her pleasure. A permanent brand would lower the resale value of the slave, unmarked skin fetching a much higher price. Besides that Mistress Edna took great delight in burning her name slowly onto the skin of the slave with a cigarette or cigar, favouring the chest of the slave mostly but sometimes, if feeling particularly cruel, the penis.

Only Mistresses butler had a permanent brand as Mistress had decided to keep him for as long as he lived, his chest branded with the initials MEvC, and his cock also had been branded several times with Mistresses cigarette with the name EDNA.

Mistress had give birth to one daughter, Mistress Susan. Mistress Susan was born after Mistress had chosen a particularly handsome pleasure slave as a breeder.

Mistress Susan had inherited all of her mothers cruel and sadistic demeanour and all the slaves of Mistress Edna feared the days when Mistress Susan would come to visit her mother. Both the Mistresses together would spell much pain and suffering to the wretched slaves.

Mistress Susan had inherited Mistress Edna’s leather clothing company, a chain of leather emporiums that had outlets in many major cities of the world. At forty nine Mistress had decided to retire and hand over the company to her capable daughter.

Mistress Edna was looking forward to a visit from her daughter soon as she would then hear all about the opening of the new store in the city of Rome.

The slaves on the other hand would all tremble upon hearing the news that Mistress Susan would soon visit, Mother and daughter together were a particularly sadistic duo.

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

Maid By Choice

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

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

Amateur

“Hi everyone,” Sarah said smiling into her phone knowing that this was a transmission that would go to her whole social group including all of her friends.

Sarah knew that this was a life-changing decision, but wanted to tell all of her friends that this was something that she really wanted to happen. She was standing fully naked and knew her bottom was stinging from a thrashing she had just been given, but she had wanted to be thrashed as it was all part of what she was going to say.

Sarah continued, “You won’t recognise where I am talking to you from. Yesterday I sold the house and bought another about a hundred miles away. I don’t own this house as I have given everything away to the most wonderful lady who, from now on, I will be her full-time live-in maid. She has trained me to be her maid, which at times has been painful because whenever my standard fell below her expectations, she has spanked me caned me or done both to me, always taking me well beyond what I could bear. However, that speeded up the training process.”

Sarah paused a moment before continuing, “This is what I want to happen and for the rest of my life. I know my new boss lady loves me and as well as being her maid I am also now her wife.” Sarah held up her finger and showed off a very basic wedding ring.

Sarah then continued, “We share a bed, except when I am in her bad books when I sleep on a mattress in an alcove off the main bedroom. It happens and I will also have a seriously stinging bottom but I am fine with that.”

Sarah again stopped speaking and this time turned around so her very red and welted bottom would be showing on everyone’s screen and said, “I did cum straight after being thrashed and giving my boss lady tongue sex and a huge orgasm.”

Sarah stopped for another moment and then took a deep breath and continued, “I need this to be goodbye to you all as I need to focus on being a good wife and maid so I will be closing down my access to this social site straight away. Please understand I do love you all, but need to move on and this is the way I want to it.”

Sarah then signed herself out of the networking site and knew no one would be able to find her, which was also what she knew she needed in order to fulfil her dream and live her new life.

Sarah was twenty-seven and an only daughter whose parents had unfortunately died several years earlier although leaving her quite a fortune. She had no other family but was born into a wealthy family and even without working she was living in a large house in a well-to-do area. She had a huge range of expensive clothes and was a socialite but saw her life as a fraud as she added nothing herself. She even had a cleaner, Olga, who also did other jobs for her like the washing and ironing.

Hence, Sarah was bored with her life as even with the social events it left her alone for so much of every day and often days in a row.

Maybe because of her boredom, Sarah surfed the internet and by chance went into a site where women who were from wealthy backgrounds, with staff, so pretty much like her, wanted to become full-time maids which they saw as being a purpose in life.

The thought of changing her life into somebody who was useful grew in Sarah’s mind. She even purchased a maid’s outfit and when she tried it on the thought of being a maid grew in her mind.

When checking the site one day she went onto the part that described being contractually bound to an employer in such a way that there was a minimum period of employment with no right to resign. As she read it, Sarah felt quivers flying around her vulva and she saw how being tied in like that was awesome.

On another part of the site, there was a story about a silver spoon lady who agreed to clean for a woman who had been her own maid, had taken her to bed several times, but then decided it would be fun to change roles. For three months the silver spoon lady was the maid and the maid was the lady of the house. Instead of three months, though, the silver spoon lady agreed to transfer all she had to her new boss lady and signed a contract binding her to her cleaning role for life. That sent even more quivers flying around Sarah’s vulva.

Sarah imagined doing the same with her own cleaner, Olga, who was in her late fifties and loved the age difference, and as she thought those thoughts, she realised she had this fantasy of being an obedient maid to Olga.

Sarah even discussed her thoughts with Olga, not saying it was what she would do, but asking what Olga would do if asked to be the boss lady over any of the ladies she cleaned for.

Olga smiled as she said, “I would be up for that, Miss Sarah.”

The discussion then took on a more serious tone when Sarah asked Olga, “What do you reckon it would be like being a maid?”

The tone of the question wasn’t lost on Olga and she steered her answer to deliberately say, “I am a cleaner now and whilst it is hard work, burdur escort I actually find it less stressful than the work some of my friends do. I have even thought about being a full-time maid which would also be hard work, but I would probably find being a full-time live-in maid even better than being a cleaner.”

Sarah felt more quivers at the thought of being a full-time maid and as she thought those thoughts said as though to herself, “I could give that a try.”

Olga heard the quiet comment and saw where Sarah was going with the discussion. She even made the direct point, “You could try it, but what are you basing your thoughts on, Miss Sarah?”

By now Sarah wasn’t thinking all that straight and said, “There is a website that discusses all of this. Let me show you.”

Sarah showed Olga the website and they both spoke enthusiastically about being a maid although as Sarah was more and more thinking she would love to try it, Olga asked, “Who would you work for without all her friends knowing about it as wouldn’t that be a problem when you reverted to your real way of life?”

Sarah scowled as she replied, “My real but boring life, you mean. However, I can see what you mean.”

Sarah then remembered the story on the site and said more brightly, “Yes, I do know what you mean,” and then tried joking saying, “You could live here and be the lady of the house and I could be your maid.”

Sarah held her breath as she looked at the expression of surprise on Olga’s face followed by a more serious look as she replied, “I could do that, but would have to tell my other clients that I can’t clean for them for a while. How long would you want to try being a maid for?”

Sarah replied, “I’m not sure. The website suggested three months.”

Olga was surprised at that length of time but could see lots of benefits as she reckoned that she could build her clients back up afterwards anyway. “I could do that, I suppose, Sarah.” She deliberately didn’t call her Miss Sarah as doubted that would be right if she became the lady of the house.

Olga looked again at the website and saw a heading, ‘Discipline,’ and clicked on the link. As she did, she heard Sarah gasp as though she already knew what was on those screens. Olga speed read and was enamoured to see that discipline should be enforced by the lady of the house, using spanking and the cane. It also encouraged new maids to carry out their work naked, and to be subservient at all times and not even make eye contact with the lady of the house or any of her guests.

Sarah didn’t need to read those pages as she had several times and fingered herself to huge orgasms each time as she imagined being naked and being spanked and caned. She hadn’t pictured being punished by Olga, but as she watched Olga read those pages and saw she was enthralled, she wondered whether she could be a disciplinarian as well as the lady of the house.

Olga asked, “Have you ever been spanked or caned, Sarah?”

This time Sarah registered that Olga had dropped the ‘Miss,’ but saw that as Olga working out if she was up for the task.

“I haven’t, ever, but can see how it should form part of the live-in maid structure.” She added after a few moments, “Have you ever spanked or caned anyone?”

Olga knew she hadn’t but thought it best to lie as she said, “Yes, I have. One of the ladies I cleaned for asked me to spank and cane her and paid me for the time it took.”

Sarah was wide-eyed at that and said without thinking, “I would also pay you, of course.” She blushed as she said it and realised the implication, but Olga didn’t say anything in response to that.

Olga was still speed-reading the screen and whilst she heard the comment about being paid, she put that to one side and asked, “So you are up for including me spanking and caning you?”

Sarah knew that she was up for it, and said, “Yes, Miss Olga,” being respectful to show she wanted this to happen.

Olga registered the respectful reply and asked, “You agree to be naked as you clean? After all, it says on the site that I should smack your bottom and legs whenever your standard of work was poor.”

Sarah was going to say she had the maid’s uniform but saw the benefit of agreeing, “Yes, I do agree, Miss Olga.”

As Olga continued to speed-read the screen, she saw another section describing how ladies who change into being maids should submit sexually to their new boss lady. She asked, “Have you seen the site encourages the maid thanking her new boss lady with tongue sex?”

Sarah had certainly seen that and at the time had again fingered herself to a huge orgasm, and again when re-reading the page. Now Olga had asked her about it she knew she was up for that as well. “Yes, Miss Olga and I agree that you should have all of those rights over me.”

Sarah really didn’t understand why she was being so agreeably submissive except she also knew her burhaniye escort knickers were already damp by the expectation of pain and submission. She even thought it would be humiliating to submit to Olga who until now she had only ever seen as her cleaner, but knew that it all made so much sense.

Olga had already speed-read the page on both the new boss lady and the new maid being subject to a contract that only the boss lady could break. She decided she could say, “Print off the contract putting in a three-month period.” She had seen that all that had to be entered were the two names and the period. She didn’t know if it was legally enforceable, but if Sarah signed it then she might be too embarrassed to say it wasn’t binding later on. Anyway, Olga knew she had nothing to lose either way.

Sarah was really up for this but asked, “Actually, Miss Olga, there are some additional clauses that should go in to increase your control. I must not contact anyone from my former life. I think also you should have the right to add any clauses at any time, including the right to extend the contract as long as you want, including forever.”

Olga replied, “I agree to all of that. Add those clauses and then print off the contract.”

Sarah gasped at the speed with which things were happening but immediately replied, “Yes, Miss Olga.”

Fifteen minutes later and Sarah had made the amendments and was signing the contract and held her breath as she watched Olga carefully read over the contract before also signing.

As she watched Miss Olga, she knew that from now she would have to think of her as Miss Olga going forward.

Straight after signing, Sarah got undressed and looked at herself in the mirror and suddenly felt useful. She wasn’t wearing any clothes, but knew that was because part of the training process that Miss Olga would enforce included having her bottom smacked as an incentive to clean better.

Sarah then set about cleaning the house just as Miss Olga had done, except nowhere near as well. However, Miss Olga kept checking on her and whenever there was a shortfall her bottom was smacked several times. That happened several times during the five hours that Sarah spent cleaning.

After finishing, an exhausted Sarah had to sit down with Miss Olga who went through her report on how well, or in fact badly, she did the cleaning. The contract set out a scale of one to ten with a punishment geared to each level. Sarah wasn’t surprised when she got just three out of ten which meant she had to bend over Miss Olga’s lap for quite a long spanking.

In fact, Sarah didn’t mind being across Miss Olga’s lap on that first occasion or on the subsequent occasions, and there were lots of those. She loved the way that Miss Olga raised her dress up so she was lying across her bare thighs and she had such a close-up view of her upside down legs as well as her own dangling under the far side of the chair that Miss Olga always sat on to give her another bare bottom spanking. She even loved the feeling of submission doing as she was told every time even when it meant another very hard spanking.

Once a spanking started, Sarah was always quickly struggling to cope with the increasingly stinging pain. Even after just a dozen or so spanks on alternate bottom cheeks she was gasping, and by the time Miss Olga was spanking the same bottom cheek several times in a row and then the other bottom cheeks several times in a row, she was squirming around, quite pointlessly she realised because she was never going to avoid any of the hard spanks, but the pain was rightly given as part of her training to become a maid with high standards in the way that she wanted to be in order to serve Miss Olga.

As well as spanking her bottom, Sarah knew that Miss Olga spanked the backs of her legs even harder, or at least it seemed so because the pain was so much more. That was still the right thing to do so far as Sarah was concerned because the more pain she suffered when her cleaning was below the standard required by Miss Olga, the quicker she would become more useful to her.

For Olga, the transition was quite exceptional. There she was, a cleaning lady for several clients, when, all of a sudden, she had so much wealth transferred into her name, and Sarah now serving her as a maid, she initially found it quite overcoming. However, that changed because she realised that Sarah was up for transforming from the lady of wealth to the subservient maid, and so as far as she was concerned it worked for both of them.

Olga had now imposed her control by spanking Sarah on a regular basis, not just after the weekly cleaning rotor was checked, but for all sorts of other things like bad timekeeping, right through to not even asking if she could go out for a walk. She knew that Sarah accepted each time she was spanked was for breaking a rule that she shouldn’t have broken, bursa escort and it was quite noticeable how she broke less and less rules so quickly.

As well as being the maid, Olga knew that under the contract she was able to use Sarah to give her whatever enjoyment she wanted, including sex. She was able to make it one way where Sarah had to give her tongue sex until she had had enough orgasms, but then she also realised that returning sexual favours when Sarah was well-behaved and did her cleaning to a good enough standard worked as well and was another incentive for Sarah to clean to the expected standards.

Under the contract, Sarah knew that she had to shower and be in bed by 9 p.m. She had to stay awake until Miss Olga deemed to come to bed as well. Once there, she would wait for the instruction to give her boss lady the sexual excitement she wanted. Sarah knew it was her position to do whatever Miss Olga wanted, and actually relished the fact that she was wanted in that way. It was even more exciting for her when Miss Olga gave her tongue sex until she reached several orgasms, as though they were moving towards being a couple.

Once Olga was happy with Sarah’s submission, she then made a point of going out with her, initially to the shopping mall, although expected Sarah to follow her around obediently and carry whatever she purchased and not even try to shop for herself. They also went on holidays and shared a bedroom, but Sarah only ever did what she was told to do by Miss Olga. She also relished being submissive in their sexual relationship. She had had sex before, always with other women because of her naturally lesbian inclination, but she hadn’t found any as satisfactory as she was now finding her sexual relationship with Miss Olga.

Sarah knew she had never been happier and the restrictions to her freedom that she set herself in the contract she drafted made her feel freer than ever before.

Sarah also accepted that Miss Olga could go out by herself and leave her in the house. However, under the contract, she was required to remain in the house and to make sure that she did, Sarah had put in the contract that whenever Miss Olga wasn’t there, she would put on leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles and a leather collar around her neck, and each would be connected to a chain attached to the wall of the box bedroom. Sarah would have to stay there, lying on the floor, waiting for Miss Olga to return. Of course, being secured like that also turned her on and as she was naked whenever she was held in place like that, she fingered herself to multiple orgasms every time.

Things did change again after a while. It didn’t take long for Olga to realise that Sarah meant much more to her than any other woman that she had been with. She found that she was falling in love with Sarah and that she was quite happy to be the one to make all of the decisions in their relationship. She could tell that Sarah felt exactly the same and was happy to have every decision made for her. So, as well as one being the boss lady and the other the subservient maid, they were also two lovers and one was dominant over the other in every aspect of their lives.

Olga knew how lucky she was to be given so much money, the house, jewellery and other things that made her the wealthy one, with Sarah now her penniless maid. She saw, though, that she had a responsibility to Sarah who had signed a potentially lifelong binding contract to be her maid and to do whatever she told her to do, and suffer the consequences of a spanking or worse, if she didn’t.

What Olga hadn’t expected was to fall in love with Sarah and have that love returned, still on the basis that she was the one in total control and Sarah the one in absolute submission. Even though Olga knew that she had the contract, she still saw no reason why she shouldn’t marry Sarah to make their relationship even more formal. She also extended the contract to forever.

So, as strange as it seemed, Olga the cleaner was now the wealthy boss lady of Sarah the girl born into wealth but who had now transformed into the submissive and totally obedient maid and loved being answerable to Miss Olga at every level. It was a mixture of discipline, and love, a Domme controlling her, a Domme disciplining her, a boss lady she loved and who loved her. Doing the housework was hard work but a pleasure she never got when Miss Olga did the cleaning for her, and she was ecstatic now she was Miss Olga’s wife as well as her maid, for life.

So, today they were married. Before the wedding, Sarah asked, “Please, Miss Olga, will you give me a long hard spanking and thirty-six strokes of the cane as I want to feel totally under your control when we get married.”

Olga agreed and once again gave Sarah a spanking and the cane, and could see how by submitting in this way Sarah was accepting her position as her subservient maid in a way that words didn’t.

After the wedding, Sarah made that final call to her group of friends, and when she turned and showed them her very red and welted bottom she felt so aroused at the humiliation.

Once that was done, Sarah was never happier as she was now the ever so useful maid and wife to her boss lady, Miss Olga.

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

Midnight Ep. 032: BRAVO

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

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

Curly Hair

The REZ near Caretaker, South Carolina… SanTease the local strip club.

“You’re stripping before you walk through the front door?”

Mikaela Merrick laughed as she stood next to the notorious Dr. Freak aka Airika Ferrec, bombshell ginger and resident ICU doctor from Cordoba General Hospital. In her opened Hummer door Airika had her lime green button-down open and off in a blur. Casting it inside her vehicle the good Doctor grinned. “Just the shirt. For now! It’s my day off I fully intend to be naked and drunk off of my ass within the hour. Same as you Missy.” She toyed with the girls raven black curls. “Join me on stage?”

“Fuck… yes!” Mikki laughed. “Let daddy punish me! Last time he had Calvin… anyway I’m good.” More Calvin did not sound all that bad.

“Us baby, Punish us!”

“Right! You might not be a bad stepmother after all. God, your tits are amazing.”

“Let’s not think that far ahead. Nodin would need to show me just how badly he would want to keep this.” She fluttered her fingertips across her body then shut the door. With an entry keypad on the Hummer door, she just locked her car keys inside with her shirt and purse. “Lead the way Manager Mik.”

“I love you Step mommy.” She giggled then looked to the evening sky in prayer, “Sorry Mom. Just having fun.” Anastasia would be frowning at her daughter’s sacrilege. On her way toward the back entrance Mikki shot a glance toward the trailer park up the hill. Watching Calvin Heavy Feather walking to work all dressed up in black, his scalp freshly shaven her heart skipped a beat. Even more, Calvin noticed Dr. Freak and flared his eyes. They waited until he found his way to their side.

“Who is this?” Calvin met up with them as Mikaela told Airika that he was her chief of security. All eyes on Airika’s breasts Mikki frowned.

“Calvin… Airika.”

“Mmmm! Calvin reKlein! I bet you tear up a very deserving asshole.” Airika read their minds, Mikki busting up and Calvin looking smug. “Hmm? Chemistry! Intriguing.” Funny how he just tore up Alexis Roster’s asshole thirty minutes ago. Small world, small anus, much wider now though.

“We’re just co-workers.” Mikaela blushed. “Oliver over his humiliation at dad’s law?”

“I guess. He has a new girlfriend. Cute lil blonde. Crazy bitch but fun.” He omitted that the girl knew Mikki, just in case.

“Oh? How much fun?” Mikki winced.

“We a thing?” He winced back.

“No.”

“It matter then?”

“You and Ollie tagged teamed her, didn’t you?” Mikki shook her head rolling her eyes. Airika merely played with her nipples and nibbled her lower lip at Calvin. He noticed but tried not to. A topless Goddess was hard to overlook. His hard on said it all. Mikki who?

“Who is… Ollie?” Freak played sheepish.

“My brother. He would like you.”

“DON’T PISS OFF MY DAD CALVIN.” Mikaela fought back. Hearing her outburst, he knew she was right. Holding the door for Airika he played the gentleman. Beguiling the bouncer Airika stepped in but ran her palms over her extraordinarily tight white pants. Eyes on her perfect heart shaped derrière he swallowed dryly. He didn’t realize Mikaela’s comment alluded to Airika. Safe for now… later? Nodin Merrick would have words.

********

8:30 PM…

Nick Sanchez enjoyed his pork chops. Here of late home cooking seemed to become more frequent now that he had Midnight Amador living under his roof, currently beneath his dining table. Before this, he ate at Coastal Waiter’s, the diner where she was employed. Now that she no longer worked there and was under his full support both financially and emotionally, he had less reason to go there. Only Caprice Comstock had a very small lure toward the place these days. Allies were made there, but true friends? Probably that too, he just had less use for them at the moment.

As he dabbed his napkin on his mouth, he slid his chair back and admired Midnight who was still eating her salad of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber slices, ranch dressing and the five droplets of X-AP347 he had laced it with. The drug not meant to harm her merely increase her hormones until her inner thighs, her hunger for sex became ravenous. High powered aphrodisiacs designed by his buddy from childhood Dr. Eugene Holley aka Gene Splice. Private joke due to his DNA studies.

Looking up at him each time she planted her face into her bowl without touching it with her hands and nibbling the meal, far slower eating than Nick without a fork. Her eyes were so beautiful, full of life living at his feet, his control. There was no place she would rather be. With a few bites of pork chop left Nick pinched the tender chunks and making kissing noises to attract her attention. Lifting up as if a happy pup, Ranch dressing on her chin like leftover jizz she wagged her tail. Stretching over her designer dish she eagerly claimed her treats. Nibble after nibble four separate times he wiped his fingers off and got up to take his plate to the kitchen, washing it in the sink along with his baking pan and utensils. Hands dried he stares çan escort over at her until she finishes her meal.

“Bring your dish to me.” Removing her dildo from the floor she placed it sideways between her lips then used her chin to scoot it slowly across the wood floor. With small rubber pieces on the bottom of the dish it wasn’t easy, but she did succeed. The dildo in her way she relocated it to her pussy in order to use her teeth to pick up and pass her bowl over to Nick to be cleaned. Seeing ranch dressing still in it he frowned. “Lick your bowl clean. Never waste.” Holding it for her she leaned in tongue lapping at the sides and within. Her raven black hair was messy. Satisfied that the ranch mixed with her drug was all in her system he washed her bowl for the night.

With a wet paper towel, he cleaned her face and hair as best he could, she refusing to smile but merely looked cute in her normal innocently shy manner. Tossing the towel in the trash he walked around her and headed for his bedroom. She remained on her knees until he whistled, calling her like a dog. “ALL FOURS! BRING YOUR CHEWTOY.” He yelled after putting the drug vial back under his bed for safe keeping. He couldn’t leave it laying around to be found and questioned.

Crawling into the bedroom, again sucking on her dildo in transit, Nick noticed her knees were getting bruised a bit from being on them so long. Even in the sand outside the weight on them was imprinting a redness. Examining her tan next in the light he realized her wearing the iron collar all day and sunbathing a caramel-colored ring encircled her throat, almost golden befitting her buttplug. “Very nice.” He told her. “Another day tanning you will be perfect. You need someone to help you keep lotioned in those hard-to-reach areas. I want this complexion almost as dark as your namesake.

“As you wish Kami.” Removing her toy for her she spoke as he ran his thumb across her lips, Midnight kissing his Godlike print lightly. Toy tossed on the floor Nick got undressed before her and walked away to start a hot shower. He wanted to relax now that he had eaten, and hot water would rest up his trying muscles. “Deny yourself the toy.” She was already whimpering over its loss, laying there begging for her attention. She was already salivating over the need to embrace it. Pure hell!

Stepping inside he left her in the bedroom to see just how long her new dosage of X-AP347 would take to groom her hormones into the insatiable slut he wanted her to always be. Cleansing his body well of stink and dirt he closed out his shower with another shrill whistle. Still on all fours Midnight crawled inside the ensuite to face him as he stepped out on to the bathmat. “Drink up.” He had realized in feeding her he hadn’t given her anything to rinse down her meal. Accepting his offer graciously Midnight began licking the beads of water from his body. Her tongue warm and enticing, Nick’s penis grew full tilt before her eyes.

Uncertain if she should just go after his cock and balls, she dried him the best she could from his feet to upper thighs, then moved around him to lick his buttocks. Her journey full circle she returned to facing him. Her brain was reacting to the drug he could see it in her expression, her fingers probing at her clit. Tormenting her further he stroked his beast feverishly directly up to her pouty lips. Each time she eased in wanting him he pulled away. The wait making her crazy she burrowed fingers up inside her cunt. She hoped to cum for him before he shot down at her. “Stop touching yourself. You want only what I offer, not what you offer yourself.” Fingers retreating her vulva she suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands. They simply went behind her back and held them at the wrist.

Ready to detonate he growls down at her, “Open wide and do not close your lips around me. Wait until fed dessert then swallow” Nick tells her as he places his dick in her mouth laying his foreskin on her awaiting tongue and lets his stream go. Grunts unavoidable he floods her throat as she moans over his gift. After she swallows every last drop. Chuckling to himself he drew back, final droplets peppering her chin. Turning his back to her he bent forward and pried his ass cheeks wide, again offer accepted. Licking his asshole was the highlight that effectively drove the drug through her system. He could literally hear her nasal yearning as she licked his pucker. Smirking he chose to allow her to stand. “ON YOUR FEET! CONTINUE!”

Up she shot, her breasts gliding over his ass cheeks in rising, then across his back as she lapped up water drops beading along his spine and shoulders. Putting her hands behind her back to prevent risk of caressing him she sought out every droplet she could find. His arms reaching for the sky one at a time she went in to lick even his armpits. His clean Kami scent drove her insane to the point of panting, he could feel her trembling up against his body. “FACE ME!”

Circling him she sucked and licked his pecs and abs, his muscles çanakkale escort simply intoxicating in their hardened states. Neckline offered at the tilt of his head she moved higher to warmly lapped at his throat. Moans heard from both of them she grew heavily invested in a more energetic cleansing. His dick touching her tummy made her cunt weep out of loyalty. Knowing she was trickling by the streaks going down her thighs Nick picked her up by her ass and hoisted her into the air. Proving his strength, he rose her upward until he could lick the juices from her inner thighs. She instantly began panting in short breathless whines. Reward!

At her pussy Nick flicked her clit twice with his tongue just to stimulate her even further. Arms straining to keep her aloft he lowered her to the floor and yanked her head back by her hair. Kissing her throat only, for a rare two minutes he reared back then growled. “ENOUGH OF THAT! Give me a massage.”

Leading her into the bedroom by her hair he lowered the lights on dim with a rotary dimmer switch. Ambiance demanded he threw himself face down on to the center of his bed with his feet hanging off the end over her sleeping bag on the floor. “Listen carefully! Without touching the bed, itself climb over me until you can massage my shoulders. If at any point your body touches the mattress you go to your bed on the floor and remain there with your toy and your teddy skull. Is that understood?”

“Yes Kami.”

“Mold your feet to my legs without scratching me. Sit up on my ass and get busy.”

Shaking like a leaf she crawled up over him strategically to avoid any mistake. Being limber anyway this feat was not that hard. So, she thought! Clinging to his musculature she used her toes to anchor herself over his upper thighs and sat on his butt cheeks. He could feel her pussy’s warm trail both of body heat and juices flowing without control. He would allow her trickles to touch the bed. Hands in motion she kneaded at his shoulders, her breasts crushed together like joyous melons compressed between her arms in motion.

“Stronger grip.” He advised. Midnight having only massaged her father now and then had only he to gauge her strength. Her mother Irene occasionally out of respect was more tender in request. Happy medium? She tried again. “Perfect! Remember that the next time.” Promising!

“May I speak Kami?”

“Yep!”

“I miss mother. May I call her tomorrow?”

“Absolutely! Tell her you’re safe and happy.”

“I would have without your command.”

“Good to know. The Coast Guard today… tell me your thoughts.”

“Fear at first. Once I knew you wanted that, I was only thinking of you Kami. I only wanted to please you even if it was visually. I… was so horny today. Hornier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Thank you, Kami.”

“You need to feel that way every second of every day. Train your body to crave your touch, my touch, those I allow to touch.”

“I will. Thank you, Kami.”

“Midnight?”

“Yes Kami?”

“DO NOT LET ME DOWN, concerning that.” His voice roared then lowered in the same breath, “Keep your body enticed at all times, be it caressing your nipples, rubbing your clit, or using your toy. That dildo is me when I’m not there.”

“I will cherish you, Kami. Fantasize of only you even when I’m with others.”

“There will be others. Many others. Expect that.”

“Yes Kami. I will be ready to please you.”

“Get off me.”

“Kami?”

“I SAID GET OFF.” His demeanor challenging, she abandoned his frame without touching the mattress. Kneeling on her sleeping bag as if punished she observed him roll over on to his back. “Get back up here. Same rules.”

A surge of hormonal urgency struck her interior, the drug amplifying her sex drive. Equally as careful as before she crawled his flesh until his penis was pressed forward over his abdomen, his balls puffy under her inner thighs. Weep pussy weep! Her expression needy she applies her hands back upon his chest and shoulders massaging him.

“Mold your pussy without penetrating it over my dick. Back and forth. Watch your knees they’re going to dip lower to my sides as you gyrate. Unless you want the floor, I’d advise perfect balance.”

“Yes Kami.” She emotionally melted in her pant. As instructed, she eased further up his body and grazed her tight labia around his enormous girth. Back and forth she tortured herself. Closing his eyes to enjoy her wet willy exhibition Nick simply put his arms behind his head as if a comfy pillow. Listening to her erratic moans, soft but greedy he could almost fall asleep. It reminded him of nature in the jungles of many foreign countries. Peaceful! Tranquil! Until of course the gunfire.

“Dorei!”

“Kami?” She did not understand Japanese.

“It means Slave. That is, you. Only holes for me to use.”

“Which one Kami?”

“To be decided. In this instance… are you asking which one of your holes does my dick want? I’ve only fucked your ass, because that’s befitting of a slave. çankaya escort Pussy is a reward. Mouth is useful in a pinch. Your service today was met with pride. I saw that in you Dorei. Therefore… reward. Lift up and guide my dick inside that cunt. Enjoy yourself!”

“Thank you, Kami.” She nearly wept as she hurried to lift up enough to install his gift. Once his beefy crown found her drenched vulva, she carefully slid back downward over its magnificence. Her awestruck gasp made him open his eyes to witness her expression. Sure enough… euphoria. Beginning her ride, her hormones screamed to the point it was becoming difficult to ride slowly in any intimate capacity. She wanted to ride it hard and violent like she used her toy today. Feeling his body heat inside her, his throbbing along her pink interior walls she was losing herself. Balls deep! Tip at the cusp! Balls deep! Tip at the cusp of retreat. Again and again, Midnight Amador came hard on Kami’s idol. He felt every urgency in her thrusts, he himself bordering on a healthy nut just allowing her to do the work.

“BLESS YOU, KAMI!!!!” She screamed. “I AM FOREVER YOURS!”

Hearing her respect Nick removed his arms from behind his head and drew her down over him. Chest on chest he palmed the back of her head and cradled her in the quick of his neckline. His other hand poised on her lower spine he used his feet to lift his lower body to ensure she wouldn’t risk brushing her knees on the mattress. Taking over he fucked her in his bearhug embrace. Her hands moving behind her to lock at the wrist made certain she would not touch anything but herself. Crying out as she came time after time, orgasms proving hard to resist her body slippage, she did manage. On her third intense orgasm she drooled heavily on his shoulder. His final assault Nick tensed up and launched his withheld firefight like rockets at the enemy. Filling her void with thick white cream she fell like putty in his grasp. Hands however still locked was a miracle in itself.

Just that fast… Nick fell asleep.

Midnight hearing him snore feared moving. Was he her bed for the night? Dare she fall asleep herself and risk touching the bed? Fear in waking him she chose to cuddle. After all he didn’t order her off. Cozy! His dick her perch she loitered. She was still so very horny. How would she ever survive the night? Carefully moving her right hand to her buttplug. As if a baby with a pacifier she used it to fuck her asshole in smaller insertions. Tugged out, transplanted, wiggled, removed shoved back in. Her night was heavenly but hell all the same. She needed more. But again, this was not about her.

********

On the street just across from the Dive Inn Hotel… Caretaker’s finest… ehhh? Debatable!

Clinton Biles and Britney Saunders were getting along great now. His earlier struggles in envisioning the girls grotesque mother Shantel Bigelow fading fast. Brit was adorably cute even with a bit of backside. In truth Clinton liked substance, his wife Mindy having a very similar build lured him in. The more Britney flirted and offered to show her friendship the easier it was to let his guard down. A clean shirt meant the world.

Standing on the curb, Clinton chuckled and sat his bag and beer on the sidewalk then whipped his dirty shirt off for all to see. Britney marveling at his exhibition nibbled a nail. “Should I break out some dollar bills Mister Stripper?”

“Just can’t handle showering then putting on dirty clothes. Can’t help the jeans but I can sure lose the stinky shirt.” Dragging out a new t-shirt he pulled it on over his head and left the tags on. Old shirt under his armpit he made a smug grin toward Britney. “Much better.”

“I’m jealous!” She giggled. Brit was not the only one, Lakshmi Surve the girl at the convenient store peering through the window at Clinton’s striptease nearly went over the stations PA system with a Whoop! Whoop! She was panting hard and calling Britney a bitch. Being on surveillance camera her actions would be punishable by her uncle when he looked the video over in the morning.

Grabbing the bag from Clinton, she removed her Get a Grip purple tee and handed it to him. In an extremely bold move Britney Saunders stripped her Pound Puppies pajamas off right on the sidewalk, light traffic going by gawking. A 360 dance to show off went over well. “Man! If I was legally deputized, I’d have to arrest, you.” He chuckled admiring her full-scale nudity. Whipping her tongue out at him she snatched the purple shirt and pulled it over her head.

“Better search me for illegal weapons then Deputy Dog.” Everything was canine to her. Odd but funny. Blame it on the trauma her mom put her through. Poor Foo Foo her Brittany Spaniel! May she rest in peace.

“Keep this up I might let my guard down. Ha! I was a security guard part time, lumberjack full time.”

“No sawing logs until I go back to my own hotel room Buddy.” She pointed with a sneer. “After the massage I give you.”

“Wait? What? Massage?” He grabbed the beer and followed her across the street watching her dance in circles, her ass cheeks peeking out from under her t-shirt. Getting a grip didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. He did request a massage but figured it might be from Caprice. Not tonight, Bear. Tonight, you get the works. More than you ever wanted.

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

Loathe to Love Ch. 03

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

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

Anal

I’d been to countless soirées, fetes, balls, and other gatherings throughout my life, attended by the most powerful and discerning people in the kingdom. None of them had ever inspired as much fear as my afternoon picnic with Natalia.

The difference was one of stakes. At those fancy events, I could (and often did) make a fool of myself, throw a fit, or otherwise ruin things without changing how anyone saw me. Bad behavior was expected from me; I was the designated royal brat.

But with Natalia, those same rules no longer applied. She didn’t ignore me–my words and actions impacted her, and so doing something wrong could have permanent consequences. And unlike with all the nobles and courtiers, for some stupid reason I found myself caring about her feelings and wanting her to like me.

Which was terrifying.

What if I made a mistake and Natalia grew to hate me? What if I wasn’t exciting enough for her and she lost interest? I had a rare opportunity–someone who actually wanted to be around me–and if I blew it, Goddess only knew when I’d get another. No. I wouldn’t allow that to happen.

There would be no mistakes. This picnic, and by extension me, would be exactly what Natalia wanted and more. The responsibility of maintaining perfection was a heavy burden, but it was better than the alternative.

It also made choosing an outfit impossible.

I’d pored over racks and racks of clothes, searching for the perfect ensemble–something flattering but not obscene, bright but not gaudy, mature but not dull…something that actually worked well on my narrow figure instead of making me look like a scarecrow. Something that excited Natalia’s interest without offending her sensibilities.

With such a stringent set of standards, my search bore little fruit even as it grew more frenetic and desperate. Unfit frocks were flung away. Passé petticoats were pushed aside. Crude corsets were cast into the depths of cabinets. Eventually, overwhelmed and discouraged, I collapsed onto the floor with a defeated moan. Nothing looked good.

“Do you need assistance, my Princess?” asked Thea, one of my ladies-in-waiting, from behind me. The small blonde had been hand-picked by my mother years ago thanks to her uncanny ability to avoid participating in or becoming the victim of my schemes. Striking such a delicate balance usually involved staying out of my way, and so we were on cordial terms.

I tentatively lifted my head from my hands, mind still abuzz with caveats and considerations. “Do…do you know what Natalia thinks about court fashions this season? Specifically outdoor wear?” My knowledge of fashion trends had mostly been passively absorbed–I’d always tried to stay above such trifles–but if it could provide inspiration, I had no qualms putting it to use.

Thea hesitated for a moment before responding. “I’m not sure the Princess-consort keeps up-to-date on such things, Princess Penelope. She’s spent very little time in court.” She watched me carefully, trying to read my emotional state. “If you like, I can ask her…”

“And make me look desperate to please? No. Absolutely not.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. “Forget the trends, then. They all look wretched on me anyway.”

Thea’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. “Would you like my opinion, Princess?”

I waved a hand at her permissively, slowly rising back to a seated position.

“Simpler might be better, given the informal setting and the Princess-consort’s unfamiliarity with the intricacies of dress.”

I frowned at a lavish ruby-red ball gown. The thought had occurred to me previously, but I’d worried Natalia would see it as an insult–me saying she wasn’t worth extravagance. Alternatively, maybe this whole outing was a test, and simple clothing would fail to meet her standards. “Isn’t that too obvious an answer, though? It feels like what she’d want me to think.”

“I…do not believe she is trying to trick you, my Princess.”

Oh. Right. This was the woman mother had chosen to marry me specifically because she avoided subterfuge and intrigue.

“You’re probably right.” I sighed and stood up, surveying my empire of fabric while tapping a finger against my chin. Simple. Simple and cute. “Perhaps…remember the outfit I wore to the stag hunt last year? The breeches underneath the nice white dress with the short skirt?”

Thea furrowed her brow. “Was that the year where you kept threatening Princess Bethany with your bow?”

“No, that was two years ago. Last year was when I kept blowing a whistle to scare off all the prey.” With good reason; I’d been protesting Carmen’s decision to move away for the sake of her ecclesiastical duties. My family had made me return to the palace after the third whistle-blowing incident.

“Ah, yes! I remember now.” Thea stepped forward past the chaos I’d created to effortlessly retrieve the outfit in question. “Here we are.”

I stepped back and circled it like a wild predator, studying it from multiple bucak escort angles. No immediate flaws jumped out at me. “It’s a good start.” I snapped my fingers. “Oh! I can also wear those cream gloves with the little bows on the forearms. And the coral necklace I stole from Janice. And obviously, we’ll have to braid my hair. Could probably do with a bath as well…”

***

The toe of my boot tapped against the stone floor of the kitchens, echoing ever-so-slightly. With the picnic rapidly approaching, my earlier jitters had intensified into a full-body anxious thrumming. Standing around waiting certainly didn’t help, but I was terrified of choosing the wrong menu and had therefore hung around the kitchens for over an hour.

One of the cooks emerged from the manor’s larder, red in the face and out of breath. The older woman presented me with a plate of small samples. “Braised mushrooms, boar in sour plum sauce, and steamed barley with herbs, if your Princess pleases.”

“Right.” I plucked a fork from the counter beside me and took a single bite of each. A glimmer of hope shone in the cook’s eye as she watched me eat–hope that I wouldn’t change my mind for a fourth time and have her go make something else.

The flavors were strong and pleasant, if a bit basic, and seemed to mesh well together. Still… “Do you think it’s too woodsy? I don’t want to come off like I’m pandering to her.”

The cook shook her head emphatically. “Not too woodsy at all, Princess Penelope. A perfect fit for the afternoon’s outing, if I do say so myself.”

“And will this travel well?”

“Perfectly well, Princess.”

“…and you think she’ll like it?” My voice came out quiet, nearly a whisper.

“I do. And I know she’ll be flattered by how much thought you put into it.” She was probably just saying that.

It still made me feel a little better.

“Okay.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remember any last details. “And we have a good wine pairing?”

“Several, my Princess. Would you like to choose?” The cook’s voice was brimming with relief. She set her tray down on the table and massaged her tired hands.

“I trust your judgment. Oh, and add a cheese course as well–but hide it in a corner of the basket.” I wasn’t sure if Natalia liked cheese or not, so I’d decided to casually ask at some point during lunch and then choose whether or not to reveal the cheese course based on her answer. A classic gambit.

The cook suppressed a chuckle. “Hidden cheese. Yes. Right away, Princess Penelope. Very wise of you.”

***

“You’re certain the horses are well behaved?” My arms were crossed in front of my chest as I addressed the carriage driver, a stocky man who seemed vaguely baffled by me.

“Uh, yeah. Good as they come, Princess. Got the boys in the stables treating them real nice.” He stuck his thumbs into the pockets of his trousers.

I cocked my head to one side. “Not too nice, I hope.”

All the necessary preparations had already been made, leaving me roiling with anxiety but unable to channel it into anything productive–hence my granular interrogation. Even as I recognized the stupidity of my questions, a small part of me still believed they were absolutely necessary; what if I didn’t ask about the horses, and they turned out to be total menaces who ruined everything and made Natalia stop speaking to me? What if our only chance at genuine connection was interrupted by the carriage running over a hole in the road and causing us to bump our heads? What if–

“Uh. Not too nice or too…not nice. The perfect amount of nice for making a good horse. My Princess.”

“Excellent.” A dilemma presented itself: I didn’t have any more questions, but if I ended the conversation I’d be alone with my neuroses. I’d tried that earlier, and had ended up standing in my bedroom wondering if I was destined to always push everyone away and be miserable. Inane questions about horses were infinitely preferable to that. “What do you feed them?”

As the driver provided a detailed accounting of his horses’ diets, my mind drifted. The wandering thoughts weren’t his fault–he seemed perfectly pleasant–but rather indicated the folly of trying to distract myself. No matter where I placed my conscious attention, my subconscious remained entirely focused on what was to come. My palms were slick with sweat. My mouth was dry. My stomach spun and tumbled about restlessly.

“…and sometimes we give them apples and carrots if they’ve been good and the kitchens have extra.”

“Seems appropriate.” I nodded absently.

“Yes, my Princess. It makes them big and strong.” The carriage driver coughed politely into his hand. “Was there anything else? Otherwise, we can prepare to set off.”

Last chance to procrastinate. “Remind me of your name?”

“Arnold, Princess. Arnold Layne.”

“Thank you, Arnold.” There was no point in delaying any longer. I made for the manor.

***

Four bulancak escort hours after Natalia offered to spend time with me, I descended the staircase of the manor’s front hall to meet her. My gloved fingers slid across the smooth, varnished surface of the banister as I held my head high and puffed out my chest, presenting myself to the world.

Then I took another look and realized the hall was empty.

“Shoot,” I cursed under my breath. That would have been a spectacular entrance.

Outside the windows, I could see the carriage waiting; maybe Natalia was out there. Donning a wide-brimmed light blue hat, I gestured for a nearby servant to open the front door so I could graciously and daintily step outside. My eyelashes fluttered; I kept the slightest little pout on my face to convey aloof sophistication.

The pout became far more significant once I realized Natalia wasn’t outside either.

I spun around and stomped my foot on the cobblestone path. “Where is she?”

Nearby servants either shrugged or ignored me.

Letting out a cross between a choked groan and a high whine, I clenched my fists and grit my teeth. The tiny deviation from my plan was already putting me off balance, forming cracks in my projected confidence. Beneath it lay not a composed, charming princess, but a flustered girl trying hard not to panic on her first real date.

Unable to stay still, I settled for pacing the front path until Natalia arrived. The toe of my boot jabbed down into loose stones every few steps, sending bits of gravel scattering as an impotent sign of my displeasure.

“Sorry I’m late!” the Princess-consort finally called out as she exited the manor. Thankfully, my back was to her, giving me a moment to steady myself and put on a winning smile.

“Think nothing of it.” I turned to face her, only for a gasp to escape my lips.

Natalia was dressed as a true ranger; leather boots, dark green cloak, leggings and a long tunic. Her curls were styled enough to indicate some effort on her part, but unkempt enough to project her usual rugged handsomeness. Best of all, the sleeves of her linen shirt were snug enough to offer tantalizing hints of musculature. She was every bit the picture of a woman who had mastered the untamed wilds, and it made my body temperature skyrocket.

“Oh,” I finally forced out, realizing how absurd I must have looked gaping at her. “You’re…you look…fantastic. Absolutely gorgeous. Wow.” I winced internally at my choice of words, which had managed to be both barely coherent and much too forward.

My embarrassment was eased somewhat when I realized Natalia was blushing nearly as brightly as I, though. “You look gorgeous too.”

The warmth deep in my core graduated to pointed heat. “Ah. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

An awkward beat of silence followed.

“Shall we?” I gestured to the carriage.

Natalia nodded, sweeping her cloak behind her as she strode forward. The sight made me feel faint.

We settled into the carriage and signaled the driver to depart. “Arnold is driving us today,” I declared, watching Natalia to see if she was impressed I knew his name. She wasn’t.

With a stern word and a tug of the reins Arnold set off, conducting an orchestra of creaking wood and clacking hooves. Inside, meanwhile, Natalia and I quickly realized we were both bad at holding idle chatter–she had never needed to learn how, and I’d always refused to. More than once our polite talk of the weather or the manor faded into quietly watching the countryside. Fields of scraggly wildflowers melded into swathes of color as we passed them by, serving as brushstrokes upon a canvas of green and beige brush. Further away, wooden fences and grazing livestock indicated the presence of farmland.

Pleasant as they were, the sights only offered brief distractions from Natalia. My eyes often discreetly drifted back to my companion, drinking in the sight of her. Not only out of desire; I also searched her expression for some hint as to her thoughts. Was she happy to be here? Did she think I was pretty? Was the carriage ride too bumpy for her? It was awfully bumpy, wasn’t it? Whatever the reason, Natalia appeared somewhat tense. Her posture was stiff, and she only moved to shift her head for a different view or to clasp and unclasp her hands in her lap.

Wanting to put her at ease, I decided to say whatever came to mind in an attempt to fill the silence. “The horses driving us are very healthy.”

Oh Goddess, why did that have to be my first thought?

Natalia blinked and turned her powerful gaze toward me, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. “Oh?”

“I talked to Arnold about it today. He said…um…he feeds them carrots and apples. Sometimes.” I was an idiot. I was a big dumb idiot, and that was why I had opened my idiot mouth and something stupid had come out.

“I see.” Swallowing a laugh, Natalia shifted in her seat so bulanık escort she could lean back. “I had a horse for many years. Named him Augustus. Worked for months to get the coin to buy him; owning a steed allowed me to join Her Majesty’s Army as a scout, earn rank much quicker. He was the most arrogant, prideful beast I’ve ever met. Made it feel that much more special once he let me ride him.”

“Did you ride him into battle?” My eyes widened at the idea of Natalia in full armor leading a charge.

She laughed, the sound like distant thunder on a summer afternoon. “Not in the way you’re imagining. A few squabbles here and there. Dodging a few stray arrows while scouting siege camps. Nothing major.”

“What happened to him?” I noticed I was leaning forward, drawn in by the tale.

“Gave him to my cousin Melia once I agreed to marry you. I briefly thought about keeping him, but I didn’t think he’d like staying in one place for a long time. Besides, Melia’s a good kid.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Guilt flared up in me. Despite my own lamentations about lost freedom and my life being ruined, I’d never considered how the marriage had impacted Natalia. All the things that made her eyes light up when she discussed them had been taken away from her and replaced with a world of fake laughter, endless judgment, and me.

I winced. How on Earth had I ever imagined I could get her to like me?

Natalia glanced out of the window and shrugged, not noticing my dejection. “He’ll be alright. I’m not worried.”

The carriage slowed to a stop soon after at the bottom of a hill, with Arnold hopping out his seat to open the doors and let us out. I retrieved the picnic basket from him.

“Holler when you’re ready for me, my Princess,” he said, tipping his hat. “Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you, Arnold.”

With Arnold staying behind to give us privacy, Natalia and I embarked on the short climb to our destination: A collection of flat rocks situated at the top of the hill. Positioned right where the fields met the forest, any direction we looked out in offered a unique view of the local landscape. Natalia excitedly walked a slow circle around the hilltop right away, taking everything in.

While she went on her little tour, I focused on the precise motions of place-setting to distract from my lingering guilt. I spread a tablecloth over the lowest, smoothest rock, then laid out plates, glasses, and cutlery in an orderly fashion. Last but not least, I arranged covered platters filled with our lunch and carefully removed their lids. There. A lovely looking table; something I had definitively done well.

Natalia flashed a quarter smile as she looped back around toward me, eyeing the spread. “Wow. Quite the arrangement.”

Oh Goddess, had I set the table wrong? Was it too formal? It was too formal. I was intruding on her natural space with my obnoxious etiquette; fitting, I supposed–

“Is everything alright?” She knelt down across the rock from me, making eye contact I in no world was capable of reciprocating. Suddenly, I realized I was clutching a salad fork tight enough that my hand was trembling.

“Fine!” The offending fork dropped down onto my plate as I forced my hand to loosen. I flinched at the resulting clatter. “You know what? Why don’t we forget about the cutlery and rules and just use whatever we like? I mean, we’re in the wilds after all!” A purely manufactured giggle followed my ramblings.

Natalia watched my performance of cheerfulness with no shortage of puzzlement, but didn’t remark on it. “Sure, if you like.” She rolled her shoulders and sat back onto the grass, her muscles incidentally flexing as she sought a comfortable position. “This is a beautiful spot, by the way. Well chosen.”

I lowered my gaze bashfully, the warmth of her praise clashing with and temporarily overwhelming my angst. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

Natalia reached toward the bottle of wine on our makeshift table, then stopped herself. “May I?”

I nodded.

Drawing a wicked knife from her boot, she stabbed the cork and had it halfway out before noticing the corkscrew next to the bottle. “Oh. Um. Sorry.” She stiffened, suddenly unsure of herself.

“I don’t mind!” came my hurried reply. Which was true–the display had drawn the curiosity of my inner delinquent. “…How do you keep that from falling into your shoe?” I’d tried tying makeshift lock picks and other contraband to my ankles with string before, but the arrangement had always been clunky at best.

Still looking vaguely embarrassed, Natalia pulled her boot off a few inches to reveal a band of leather around her ankle with a small scabbard attached.

My eyes went wide in awe. “That’s so cool.”

She shrugged, sheathing her knife again and pouring each of us a glass of wine. “Just a tool. Nothing more, nothing less,” she remarked, not realizing that made her seem even more cool.

Before I could continue gushing, she raised her glass. “To new beginnings.”

Beginnings of what? Living in a new place? Being married? Something more? In the course of trying to figure out what she meant, my brain tripped over itself and fell down a flight of stairs. I gaped blankly at her for a few seconds, then gave up and raised my glass. “To new beginnings.”

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

Leave the Door Unlocked

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

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

Amateur

‘Leave the door unlocked

Be behind it in your underwear

On your knees

Mouth open’

I stare at my phone. What have I let myself in for?! I don’t know this guy at all and he wants me to do this? I get wet at the thought and my heart flips around in my chest. Am I really going to do this? 

My Dom is far away and he ordered me to find someone to fuck today, but I’m not allowed to cum. I’m still learning and I want to tell him to fuck off, that I’ll do what I want, but I know I will follow his orders because he will punish me if I disobey him, but he might give me amazing, orgasmic rewards if I obey. So, no cumming. 

I hop on Tinder, swiping right on cute guys who are local to where I’m staying and I hit upon this guy, Mike. He looks alright, polite smile, looks quiet and I decide I could get away from him if I needed to. I swipe right, we match and I waste no time; 

‘I’m only here this weekend’ 

‘I’m free at 4 today’ Fuck, this is maybe happening. 

‘I’m a pleasure Dom and I like to be rough.’ Fuck, I bite my lip and respond I’m not allowed to cum.

He sends me a voice note saying that is fine and he will just use me and leave me in a quivering mess for my Dom to do with what he wants. He says wear an anal plug to try to stop him fucking me in the ass. Barely two messages later and he sends his orders for me to greet him. 

This is NOT smart, this is dangerous and risky – I don’t know him, I don’t have any friends close by I can call on, I shouldn’t do this, I should be more careful, I should wait and say I couldn’t find anyone. I don’t. I spend the afternoon trying to concentrate on work but the plug is distracting and I can’t concentrate on anything. I move my mouse around and every so often brush my nipples lightly. They’re really sensitive and slightly painful as I’ve just had them pierced and I hope Mike is gentle, but I know he’s not going to be.

I wander around the house, take the dogs for a walk, and wonder about what underwear I should wear. I choose a purple padded bra (extra protection) and a matching purple thong which pulls nicely on the plug as I move around. 

4 o clock comes around and on the dot almost, he messages to say he’s parked. I make sure the dogs are in the garden and I take a peek out of the window and see him striding across the car park. I rush to the front door, check it’s on the latch and kneel, my heart beat going so fast. I feel like a rabbit in headlights and can’t focus on anything other than the blood pounding in my ears boyabat escort and my pussy. 

He opens the door and comes in, locks eyes with me and smiles wickedly. 

‘Good slut.’

My breath catches in my throat and I try to speak but nothing comes out. He is looking directly at me as he takes his belt off, sliding it through his hands and snapping it, making me jump. He takes his jacket off and I glimpse some tattoos on his damn fine arms. He’s much bigger than he looked in the pictures, more than six foot and he would be able to overpower me and outrun me. Shaved head and neatly cropped short beard above a tight black top showing his well defined arms. He take me in and he smirks, an evil glint in his eyes as he steps towards me.

I’m shivering with excitement as he unzips his jeans and tells me to take it in my mouth. I reach out with my hands and gently lead his cock into my mouth. I lick my lips, breathe warmly onto the head of his cock and lick up from the base before taking him in my mouth and suck. A couple of minutes pass where I’m enjoying feeling his cock in my mouth and growing bigger and harder. I can’t wait for him to fuck me, it’s been days. 

Suddenly he grabs my head and rams his cock all the way down my throat. I’ve been practising deep throating but he forces his cock all the way and I feel all 7 inches of it pressing against my throat, filling my mouth and cutting off my air. He holds me there for a second longer than I think I can take and releases me. 

‘Good slut, warming up your throat for me. Can you take more?’ I eagerly nod, I want his cock so badly, in my mouth, in my pussy, anywhere. He rams his cock into my mouth again and again and I choke and cough and he moans with pleasure. He lets me play for a minute and I try to take him in but can’t. 

‘I’ll help’ and he rams it in again, leaning down to see how wet I am. I am dripping and he slides two fingers in straight away, pulling out of my mouth and pussy at the same time, licking his fingers. 

‘Mmm, I love it when a slut is ready and waiting. Up, bend over the sofa now’ I do as he commands and he kicks my legs wider, pulling my thong to one side and pressing on the plug.

‘I wonder how long before you beg me to fuck your ass’ I shudder and say my ass belongs to my Dom. Mike laughs.

‘I won’t if you don’t say yes, but trust me, you will want me to. You will be begging for it.’ 

He rubs his cock along my pussy and I moan and my legs buckle slightly. He kneels bozüyük escort and buries his face in my pussy, licking my clit and devouring me. I gasp and moan and shudder as he gives me such undivided attention. I can feel the tension building up and I take a deep breath, reminding myself I’m not allowed to cum. Another deep breath and I fight the urge to let myself cum on his face. He can tell I’m struggling and he chuckles before standing up and slapping my ass so hard I yelp and pitch forward. I stand frozen, bent over the sofa and wait. He’s taking off his clothes and then he’s behind me again, lining up. Finally he’s going to slide his cock into me and I relax and tense up at the same time, then his hand lands on my ass again, stinging like hell and as I buck from that he grabs my waist and rams his cock deep into me. 

I cry out and immediately feel my orgasm start to build again. He pulls my hair back as he fucks me and says;

‘Now now, not yet – remember your orders’ I moan and he grabs me by the throat and continues his onslaught. He pulls out and kneels at my pussy again and laps up my juices while I moan with pleasure and frustration. Deep breaths again and again and I moan out loud I must not cum. He plays with the plug and then pulls it out. A dim part of my brain yells danger and I freeze for a moment but he continues to suck on my clit and drive me wild and I forget that danger. He moves to lick and invade my ass with his tongue and finger fucks me while rubbing my clit with his thumb. I’m so close and almost lost in the orgasmic haze he has got me in and he stops and says he is going to fuck me in every room in the house but first he pushes me onto the sofa, face buried in the cushions and he slides a well lubed finger into my ass.

Oh God, what have I let myself in for?

I moan and try to convey through that noise that he should stay away from my ass or I’ll get in trouble with my Dom but he doesn’t understand and instead adds a second finger. Oh God I really am going to lose control and let him do whatever he wants to me. 

‘You like that, don’t you? Don’t lie to me, I know you want my cock buried in your ass. You’re fucking my fingers right now and you are writhing around like a big cock hungry whore. I want to feel my big cock in your tight ass and hear you beg me for it BUT I won’t do it without you begging me. The second you say yes, I will have my cock buried balls deep in your ass’. I groan again as I feel his fingers slide in and out. How buca escort can I say no? I look him in the eye and say;

‘I’m not going to say yes. My ass belongs to my Dom.’ He accepts this and quickly jumps up to go balls deep in my pussy instead, with his fingers still hammering my ass as well. I feel myself building again and try to control my breathing. He notices and pulls out completely, slaps my ass hard, sits down in front of me on the sofa and slams his cock right down my throat, making me gag and my eyes water again. He forces his big cock down my throat and holds me there, giving me more practice. When I can’t handle it anymore and need to breathe, he pulls out and with a wicked grin, smirks;

‘You wanna do that again don’t you?’ I grin at him and answer by wrapping my lips around his cock and looking up at him. He shoves it down my throat again, then suddenly drags me up by my hair. 

‘In the kitchen, bitch’ I jump up and lead the way and he bends me over the desk I’ve been working on during the day, a mirror in front of me. 

‘Look at yourself, while you whore yourself to me and get fucked hard.’ I drag my eyes up to the mirror and I am so turned on, I can see the lust in my eyes and him fucking me from behind. I realise I’m still wearing my underwear and he’s just pushed it down enough to free my pussy and ass for him to play with. He smacks me again, hard, making me squeal, then pulls out again and goes over to the oven, taking the shelves out – what the fuck? He grabs me by the back of the neck and pushes me down to the oven and shoves my head inside.

‘Good obedient slut’ I worry for a moment he’s going to turn it on and try and kill me but I let his dominance take over and I do what he wants. There are worse ways to die! He brings his thumb to my clit again and holds onto my hip while thrusting into me and I squirm and wriggle with pleasure and denied release. Just as I think I’m going to lose control again he pulls out and pulls me up by my hair;

‘Upstairs now’ He stops me on the stairs for a minute and then we go around every room, ending up in the bedroom. 

‘Last chance bitch, I want your ass’ he pushes his fingers inside again while he continues to pound my pussy. I struggle to speak between thrusts, debating with my urges and my orders. Screw the punishment, but then what if… 

‘No, fuck my pussy hard and cum on my face. My Dom ordered.’ He agrees and quickly pulls out and spins me around. I have my mouth open obediently and he shoots cum all over my face, in my hair and eyes, across my cheeks. He takes a quick picture to show my obedience to my Dom and then uses his cock to wipe the cum off my face and orders me to clean him up. I lick him clean happily. When I’m finished and he’s leaving, his last words were;

‘I’ll have your ass next time’.

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

Kinky French Honeymoon Ch. 02

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

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

Gangbang

“Kinky Paris Honeymoon”

(Chapter Two)

by J.D. Savanyu

The red light district glimmers like a sleazy retro neon paradise. The first two days of our Paris honeymoon were kinky enough, but now we’re trying to add more spice to the pot with a menage a trois. Lola leads me by the hand along the Boulevard de Clichy; admiring the iconic windmill over the Moulin Rouge cabaret, and trendy boutiques with names like L’Erotique, Sexodrome, and Pussy’s. Way more interesting than those hole-in-the-wall sex shops back home in Philadelphia.

“L’Erotique is where I got that French maid costume,” Lola beams. My hot redhead wife takes me into that store and shows me the lacy vintage housekeeper getup that she wore in our hotel room last night. I’m still sore after she tied me to a vintage clawfoot bathtub and whipped me a few dozen times with a riding crop, among other BDSM delights.

“That was awesome, babe. I’ve never seen a porn video with a dominatrix who acts like a naughty Paris housekeeper.”

“I have more imagination than all those hack porn writers out there.”

“Let’s stop imagining, and start looking for a good French three-way partner.”

“Sure thing, Jerry. Starting a menage a trois in Paris is easy as going to 7/11 for a gallon of milk.”

She buys a wooden spanking paddle engraved with “TU ES MA CHIENNE, MON MARI!” (YOU’RE MY BITCH, HUBBY!) Then we head out and take a left turn on the Rue Duperre, with a series of small theaters that are far from “legitimate.” The live sex show capital of Europe.

“Strip clubs are so twentieth century,” Lola remarks. “This is the only live entertainment people care about anymore, besides Hamilton.”

“Hey, let’s go see L e Meilleur Spectacle de Sexe Coquine Pervers à Paris.” (The Best Damn Kinky Sex Show in Paris.) “That’ll be full of freaks looking for a cheap fling.”

I pull out my fat wallet, buy two tickets, and enter an old dingy art-deco building. We go through another door and sit in the back row of a small theater with seat risers on all four sides. A few bondage platforms are scattered around the stage, with various ropes, whips, and chains hanging off the sides, and more ropes and chains hanging down from the ceiling. The audience is two thirds men one third women, chatting amongst themselves en francais. There’s one straight couple from Philly, judging by their matching Bryce Harper t-shirts.

The show begins a few minutes later. A sexy twenty-something brunette woman enters stage left, wearing nothing but a lacy vintage french maid cap and a nineteenth century tie-up corset, with her big tits hanging out. Her wrists are bound together in front with rope. She moans in convincing distress, with her shaved pussy dripping in anticipation of the painful pleasure she’s about to recieve. A few seconds later, a tall muscular man enters stage left, dressed like a dapper eighteenth-century French nobleman, complete with a grey powdered wig. A nice change of pace from the usual modern Fifty Shades-esque tropes.

“Bienvenue dans mon cachot, servante Elyna,” the nobleman growls en francais. (Welcome to my dungeon, maid Elyna.) I understand him well enough, thanks to four years of French classes at William Penn High School. Lola took four more years of that langage at Harvard, so she can shoot the breeze with anyone in this crazy town.

“Dieu vous damne, Marquis de Sade,” Elyna whimpers fearfully.

Ah, this should be interesting. An episode from the notoriously perverted life of Donatien Alphonse Francois, Marquis de Sade. A bisexual libertine who was so fucked-up, the term “sadism” was coined in his honor. The S in BDSM.

“Dieu n’existe pas, espèce de salope stupide!” Sade barks angrily. (God does not exist, you stupid bitch!”)

He shoves her toward center stage, yanks her bound arms straight up in the air, and ties her hands to a chain that hangs from the ceiling.

“S’il te plaît, ne me fais pas de mal, Sade! Je ferais tout,” she wails. (Please don’t hurt me, Sade! I’ll do anything.)

“Ferme ta gueule, putain de vulgaire!” (Shut the fuck up, you common harlot!)

Sade goes to one of the platforms and picks up the same “Magnifique Chain Whip Necklace” that I gave to Lola as an anniversary present two months ago. Twelve tiny steel chains linked together and suspended from a silver necklace. She uses it to whip me during our private bondage sessions, and also as a swanky fashion accesory during cocktail parties with our fellow overpaid personal injury lawyers.

Sade delivers a solid lash to Elyna’s big tits with those twelve tiny chains, leaving little red stripes all over and making her squeal in rehearsed agony. Lola gasps softly. She puts her right hand on top of my left hand, and squeezes it when Sade whips his maid once again.

“Oh mon dieu, aidez-moi s’il vous plaît!” she shrieks as the chains keep raining down on her tits, turning them a solid red. (Oh god, please help me!)

“S’il bor escort y avait un dieu, il ne permettrait pas à des filles sans valeur comme toi d’exister.” (If there was a god, he wouldn’t allow worthless wenches like you to ever exist.)

Sade steps behind Elyna and continues his aggressive act, whooping her bare ass like it’s 1799. The real Marquis did the same thing to hundreds of French women and men, and he wrote stories that are still shocking even by 2022 standards.

He grabs a big leather whip from the platform, and waves it about menacingly. He steps back six feet and swings it with all his might against the wooden stage, making a nice loud cracking sound as the leather tip breaks the sound barrier. That whip cracks five more times on the floor, sending literal shudders through Elyna and Lola. He steps forward and whips her right between the legs, making her resume that bitersweet symphony of moaning. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to get her motor running. The whipping continues at a rapid pace, making her entire body undulate in vertical bondage, swinging on the chain from the ceiling. Sade switches to an underhand motion, lashing her pussy and asshole a bit harder.

“Oh merde, ça fait si mal… bien!” Elyna moans. (Oh shit, that hurts so… good!”)

“C’est ce qu’ils me disent tous… finalement.” (That’s what they all say to me… eventually.)             

My eyes drift upward toward the audience on the other side of the stage, and I notice a late-comer entering the top row of seats. A twenty-something brunette woman with a pixie haircut and a black gingham dress over her slender boyish body. She sits down directly across the stage from me, and I recognize her as the lady we saw this morning at the La Bourdonnais coffee house near the Notre Dame cathedral, when she chatted with her sophisticated college friends from the Sorbonne. Lola was checking her out right before she asked me if I’d ever had a three-way. My answer was no… but this lady seems like the type who could turn it into “yes.” The pixie gazes at the kinky show with a blank placid expression, seemingly unfazed by all the pussy-whipping.

“Aie pitié, Sade! Je t’en supplie! J’ai appris ma leçon,” Elyna wails. (Have mercy, Sade! I beg of you! I’ve learned my lesson.)

“Très bien, sale petite bonne. Tu mérites une petite récompense pour avoir pris ta punition comme une gentille fille. Je pense que je vais te rendre encore plus sale avec une bonne sodomisation dure.” (Very well, you dirty little maid. You deserve a little reward for your taking your punishment like a good girl. I think I’ll get you even dirtier with some good hard sodomizing.)

Elyna groans in fake distress as Sade unties her from the chain. He shoves her torso down on a bondage platform and binds her wrists and ankles to metal loops jutting out of the wood. Then he unfastens his eighteen-century trousers and lets them drop to the floor, revealing an impressive eight-inch prick. French guys have all the luck.

“Je quitte toujours mes “amants” avec une extase à bout de souffle et des trous douloureux.” (I always leave my “lovers” with breathless ecstasy and sore bungholes.)

He shoves his long thick manhood all the way up her “bunghole,” eliciting a loud squeal of half-pain, half-pleasure. He keeps ramming that Provencal bitte up her Parisian con, just like the real Marquis de Sade. I can’t prevent my own big cock from getting hard, admiring the good anal action. Lola slowly moves her left hand over and gently massages it, much to my pleasant surprise. This honeymoon keeps getting better and better. I feel like I’m in the opening porn theater scene from The Opening of Misty Beethoven, where a Paris hooker named Misty gives a handjob to some sleazy guy in a Napoleon Bonaparte costume. Meanwhile, the pixie lady looks straight ahead and recognizes me from the restaurant. She shoots me a flirtatious smile, and I shoot it right back.

Sade keeps ass-fucking Elyna with reckless abandon. He pulls out a few times to spread her cheeks and lubricate her sphincter with saliva. Good old-fashioned hetero buggery. Lola keeps massaging my penis through two layers of cotton, and the pixie starts working her clit through her gingham dress. Sade finally pulls out of her asshole and steps around to her face, masturbating vigorously with a vicious smirk.

“Mendie mon sperme, sale petite bonne.” (Beg for my cum, you dirty little maid.)

“Va te faire foutre, démon aristocratique!” (Fuck you, you aristocratic devil!)

“Putain de connard insolent!” (Fucking insolent twat!) He smacks her face with his free left hand, making her yelp. She turns the other cheek, and he smacks it with pleasure. He strikes each cheek two more times, and resumes jerking off.

“Putain, putain, putain!”

He blows an impressive load, covering every square inch of her face. His triumphant roar echoes throughout the fading art-deco theater. The audience releases their bornova escort own tension with loud applause, and the dapper Marquis takes an exaggerated theatrical bow.

The show continues for about an hour, with three more French women getting bound, whipped, paddled, clamped, electroded, screwed, fucked and cum-splattered by three more men in standard modern BDSM scenes. The pixie lady keeps eye-fucking me like crazy. How convenient, just when were hankering for a three-way.

We exit the theater at ten o’clock in a hedonistic haze. The pixie marches up to us in the art-deco lobby and smiles warmly.

“Amazing to see you twice in same day, in large city like Paris!” she beams in a thick Parisian accent.

“Oui-oui. It must be fate,” Lola beams back.

“I heard you talking at La Bourdonnais. Always good seeing American les amoureux on French honeymoon.” She offers her hand to shake. “I am Brigitte, writing student at Sorbonne.”

Lola shakes her hand. “I’m Lola, an ambulance chaser from Philadelphia.”

“My English not so good yet. What is ‘am-bu-lance chaser?'”

“It’s a joke. I’m a personal injury lawyer at Greenberg and Goldberg.”

I shake Brigitte’s hand. “So am I. I’m her husband Jerry.”

“So nice, Jerry. You both look so good and happy in love. Would you like I buy some drinks for you at discotheque down street?”

I give Lola a cautious look, not sure if she’s as eager to pounce.

“Mais bien sûr, mon cheri,” Lola replies with a big smile. “I want to dance like it’s the last day of disco.”

…………………………………

A euro-tech song thumps like a rythmic earthquake on the dance floor of “Raspoutine Paris.” Brigitte flops around like a palm tree in a hurricane. She dances like no one’s watching, and so does Lola. I don’t bother trying to keep up with them. Just bobbing up and down lethargically like a bookworm at senior prom, admiring the instant sexual chemistry between my American wife and this cliche lezzie-looking writer chick from Gay Par-ee.

“You make a great couple,” I shout to them over the loud “music.”

“All three of us do,” Lola shouts back.

“Putain oui, fille!” Brigitte beams. (Fuck yeah, girl!)

They keep dancing like hell in a writhing MDMA-fueled mass of humanity. The nondescript instrumental tune dissolves into a remix of “The Last Day of Disco,” a recent French pop hit by Juliette Armanet.

“Oh my god, I fucking love this song!” Lola shouts.

“Ah oui! Juliette makes orgasm in my ears!” Brigitte remarks.

They dance deliriously to the Donna Summer-inspired ditty. Afterward, we drift over to a bar, and Brigitte orders a glass of white wine for each of us. Chateauneuf-du-Pape Pinot Grigio.

“Great choice, Brigitte,” I say flirtatiously. “As a wise man once said, ‘beer is the nectar of nitwits.'”

“Which wise man?”

“Comic Book Guy, from The Simpsons.”

“I no watch cartoons. No TV at all. I am femme sophistique, only reading books.”

“I stopped watching the boob tube ten years ago. And I love classy hotties,” I remark as the alcohol kisses my brain. Brigitte giggles, and we all take a big sip of delicious authentic Pinot.

“I was a party animal at Harvard, but then I got down to business in the legal system,” Lola says to Brigitte.

“So I heard at cafe. You had kinky sex with English majors; three in a bed sometimes.”

“Oui-oui, madame. English majors are crazy as fuck, and they always leave you with a good story to tell.”

“Plutôt vrai, Lola beau. I am a wild slutty girl, named after Brigitte Lahaie. French porn star in Swinging ’70s.”

“No kidding! I love retro porn flicks. Especially the artsy ones, like The Devil in Miss Jones.”

“I too love artistique sex films, and books.”

“You look like the kind of girl who can inspire a thousand-page novel.”

“Fuck yeah, ginger.” She reaches across the table and strokes my wife’s pale slender arms. We’re all getting nicely buzzed. “I am like the Marcel Proust of making love.”

“You’re quite a handfull, I bet. Say, would you like to visit our fancy hotel room and, uh… work on the rough draft of a romance novel? If you catch my drift.”

“Oui madame, I would like to share your honeymoon bed. I like my romance novels rough.”

…………………………

We spill out into the neon glow of the red light district, following a drunken Japanese couple in Demon Slayer and Tokyo Mew Mew Mew T-shirts. A few minutes later, we amble across the river Seine and approach Notre Dame cathedral. The gothic masterpiece is still amazing after that huge fire three years ago; even with a temporary metal roof and scaffolding all over. (I still can’t believe what I did with Lola in Saint-Chapelle two hours ago.) We turn left near the bell tower and enter the luxurious Hotel Fauborg. Three minutes later, Lola and Brigitte are buck-naked in room 606, admiring the view of the Hunchback’s tower bostancı escort while I admire their asses.

“All right, I’m in charge here. A dominator with absolute power. You both better do exactly as I say.”

“Oui monsieur,” Brigitte giggles. “I am your willing slave, like your new wife.”

“Sit down on that velvet couch, right next to each other.”

“Yes sir,” Lola chortles. “I’ll be a good sport this time, but next time I’ll do the whoopin’.”

They sit next to each other on an expensive purple silk Louis Quatorze sofa with a mahogany frame. I go over to Lola’s bag of kinky tricks on top of a gold-rimmed mahogany credenza, and pull out two handcuffs a few lengths of rope. I use the cuffs to join Lola’s right hand to Brigitte’s left hand, and Lola’s right ankle to Brigitte’s left ankle. Then I use the rope to stretch their other limbs toward either end of the sofa, tying firm knots around the wooden support beams. Their sexy bodies form an awesome X shape with two dotted I’s in the middle.

“You’re a naughty fucking bitch, Lola. Dragging me into a menage a trois with this stuck-up French cunt. I better set both of you straight.”

I pull out Lola’s Magnifique Chain Whip Necklace. Lola wiggles anxiously on the sofa, while a playful smile is locked on Brigitte’s face.

“Wipe that fucking smirk off your face, Frenchie.”

She giggles girlishly. “I know you love brats like me, you rich American pig.”

“Fucking cunt.”

I give her flat tits a nice solid whack with the chain whip/necklace, and she responds with a loud shrill giggle.

“Harder, monsieur! Punish me like greedy lawyer!”

I whip her tits harder, ten more times. Her giggling quickly subsides to pathetic moaning. I swing downward and lash her hairy pussy twelve times.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Brigitte wails in masochistic ecstasy. “You so good hard dominateur! Dieu, je veux que tu me déchires le cul!” (God, I want you to tear my ass up!)

I keep whipping her frumpy body for a solid minute.

“Save some for me, Jerry-boy,” Lola coos.

“Damn right. My naughty wife deserves a bigger punishment, and a bigger toy.”

I go to her back of tricks and pull out an intimidating demon tail whip, with two pointy foot-long leather straps jutting out of a leather-wrapped wooden handle. Like a giant viper’s tongue.

“This big serpent gives you two stings with one swing. Count ’em out loud, you copper-headed skank.”

I whip her big milky tits with perky pink nipples, leaving two pink stripes on her pale flesh.

“Two!” Lola yelps.

I whip them again.

“Four!”

Again.

“Six!”

Again, harder.

“Eigh-ha-height!”

Again, on her hairy red crotch.

“Teh-ha-hen!”

Whack!

“Twelve!”

She keeps counting all the way to thirty, then she finally buckles in genuine distress. I pull out a baggie with a bunch of Lola’ favorite nipple and pussy clamps. I put a clamp on each of her whip-raw nipples and three on her cunt, raising her voice to a new shrill high.

“Come on, hubby,” Brigitte murmurs. “Clamp my cute nipples and pussy. I am good slutty toy for Marquis de Sade.”

“No doubt. I bet you even fuck your gynecologist, you little freak.”

“What is a gyn-a-cah-lo-gist?”

“A pussy doctor. You need to pay more attention in your English classes, you fucking sorority slut.”

I clamp her cute little nipples, then I grab three more clamps and put them on her labia and clit, making her howl like a poodle.

“Good pussy doctor, monsieur! Make my vagin healthy again, s’il vous plaît. Pound us with your fat American prick.”

“Good idea, Frenchie. But let’s get your vagins cleaned up first. A nice cold shower is just what the gynecologist ordered.”

I free their arms from bondage, drag them into a luxurious bathroom, and force them to sit down in a spacious retro clawfoot bathtub. They watch with bemused expressions as I take off the sharp business suit that I always wear in Philadelphia courtrooms. I love how it boosts my ego, and the ladies dig it too, so I wear it all the time.

“That’s right, Jerry-boy,” Lola giggles. “Take off that stuffy lawyer suit, and show us that big lawyer dick.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

I strip nude, grab the metal shower wand, and turn the cold water on full blast.

“Think warm thoughts, you cold-hearted bitches.”

I spray the frigid H20 all over their whip-raw bodies on a cool April evening, making them squeal all over again. They thrash about awkwardly in the tub, with their two ankles still bound together.

“Payback for last night, Lola. Revenge is best served cold.”

“Misericorde, misericorde, trop froid, monsieur!” Brigitte wails. (Mercy, mercy, too cold, sir!)

“In that case, I’ll give you a nice douche chaude.”

I aim my big dick toward their pretty wet faces, and defile them with hot piss.

“Fuck yeah!” Brigitte cheers. She opens her mouth to take it right on her tongue. It splashes all the way down to her clamped pussy. Lola shoves her aside to get her fair share of rich tangy urine, distilled from fine white wine. My full bladder finally empties on my wife’s face, leaving a disgusting yellow mess all over their white bodies and the white marble bathtub.

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

şişli escort Antalya escort beylikdüzü escort escort eryaman escort demetevler escort Hacklink mamasiki.com bucur.net hayvanca.net lazimlik.net cidden.net By Casino rus escort bahçelievler escort Escort bayan Escort bayan escort ankara sincan escort bursa escort bayan görükle escort bursa escort bursa merkez escort bayan Kartal escort Maltepe escort Pendik escort otele gelen escort anadoluyakasikadin.com kadikoykadin.com atasehirkadin.com umraniyekadin.com bostancikadin.com maltepekadin.com pendikkadin.com kurtkoykadin.com kartalkadin.com escortsme.com Hacklink Hacklink panel Hacklink bursa escort görükle escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort Ankara escort bayan Ankara Escort Ankara Escort Rus Escort Eryaman Escort Etlik Escort Sincan Escort Çankaya Escort ankara escort bursa escort Escort hurilerim.com bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa escort bursa sınırsız escort bursa escort bayan bursa escort görükle escort antalya escort istanbul travesti istanbul travesti istanbul travesti ankara travesti Moda Melanj türkçe altyazılı porno porno 64 japon porno burdur escort bursa escort çanakkale escort çankırı escort çorum escort denizli escort diyarbakır escort düzce escort edirne escort elazığ escort ankara travesti escort escort escort travestileri travestileri keçiören escort etlik escort çankaya escort