Ay: Ekim 2025

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

“What in the hell is all the noise?” asked Ms. Desiree’. Coming through the front door were Mistress Selena and Lady Delilah. Between them They yanked a very hefty man whose balls appeared to be held by a rope protruding through the front of his pants. The end of this rope was in Lady Delilah’s right hand. His face was covered with dirt and grass stains. “Looks as though you’ve been playing football or something,” observed Ms. Desiree’. “What exactly is going on here?” She asked.

“Well,” replied Mistress Selena, “I was getting out of My car and I thought I noticed someone or something hiding behind the rose bush.”

“So you went to investigate and found junior here?” laughed Ms. Desiree’.

“Something like that, actually I brought My mace with Me in case I needed it. Turns out I did,” She replied. “It wasn’t until after I maced him I noticed Lady Delilah coming across the yard with a rope. It was Her idea to drag him by the balls into the house.”

“He looks rather large to be dragged by the balls,” laughed Ms. Desiree’

Lady Delilah spoke up at this time, “We let him walk, he would be far too heavy to drag.” Together the Ladies pushed him the rest of the way into the kitchen and then forced him to the floor, where he sat rubbing his eyes and whining that he could not see. “Seems he wanted to have a peek at what was going on in Your house, Mistress? Or that’s what he claims is the story.”

“If I may speak,” the intruder spoke, “I was ….”

“Shut the fuck up, nobody wants to hear what you have to say, or hear any lousy excuses you might come up with. This is private property and you have no fucking reason being here,” screamed Ms. Desiree’. “What the fuck do I look like to you, an idiot? Do I look like I’m interested in whatever piss poor fucking excuse you might come up with for snooping around My property?” “Well, do I?” she smacked him hard across the face.

“No ma’am,” the intruder replied.

“Not another fucking word, or I will seriously hurt you,” Ms. Desiree’ warned. “What do You think Ladies,” She turned Her attention to Mistress Selena karabük escort and Lady Delilah, “Do You think We could entertain Ourselves at Our tea party with this useless piece of shit?” “Why don’t You take him upstairs and take away those clothes,” suggested Ms. Desiree’

As the Ladies led the poor soul away, Ms. Desiree’ smiled to Herself and picked up the phone to call several friends who had not been invited but would find this entertaining. She contacted Mistress Raven first, because She had complained earlier in the week that there had been a peeping tom around Her neighborhood and somehow this didn’t seem like a coincidence. Then She called for the maid who was in the kitchen doing the morning dishes. Instructing him to bake cookies and make lots of tea, She went upstairs to see how the Ladies were making out.

She had not reached the top of the stairs when She heard a car in the driveway. Turning around, She went back out to see who had arrived. Becky and Tia, two friends of Mistress Janessa, were standing on the front porch smoking cigarettes when She reached the door. Stepping onto the porch, Ms. Desiree’ told them the story of the intruder that Mistress Selena has sprayed with mace and the Ladies had dragged in. Tia seemed pretty excited by the thought of keeping him captive to torture for a while, but Becky worried about what he would say to the police when he did get away. “Well, who knows he’s here?” asked Mistress Janessa.

Quick to pick up on Her thoughts, “How many people can one tell that one is going to do a snooping in windows?” replied Ms. Desiree’. “I don’t think anyone knows he’s here, don’t trouble Yourselves with that anyway. By the time We are though with him, he will be so happy to get out he won’t tell a soul, I assure You.” With that the Ladies all headed into the house for some tea and cookies. Before going upstairs, Ms. Desiree’ instructed Her maid to bring enough chairs, the tea party was moving to the top floor. The maid quickly placed the chairs in a circle anticipating the action would osmaniye escort most likely be in the middle.

By the time the Ladies were seated comfortably, Mistress Selena and Lady Delilah had the intruder lying naked on the floor. Lady Delilah and Tia were taking turns stepping on his cock and balls when Ms. Desiree’ handed Them whips.

As Ms. Desiree’ looked around the room, it occurred to Her that this was an amazing group of Women! It was really very amusing to Ms. Desiree’ that Her friends tended to be so quick to find potential in just about any situation. Mistress Raven, the truly sadistic one in the group, was bent over the intruder questioning him about his whereabouts last Saturday night. Mistress Selena, normally a very quite and reserved individual, was the life of the party, telling jokes about how pathetic he looked after She sprayed him with mace. Mistress Janessa had kicked the shit out of his balls and turned them almost purple. Yes, they were indeed a lot of fun to be around.

If Lady Delilah could find a way, She would bring back public floggings, offering Her services when one was needed. She looks for excuses to dominate men, because She really doesn’t like them very much. She is from Romania and was taking the time to give a demonstration to Mistress Janessa’s friends on how She had learned to operate a flogger by a beautiful Dominatrix over there. She always had stories of Her homeland that made the Ladies wonder why She would ever leave. But living in America has its benefits.

After several hours of taking turns torturing the intruder, Tia mentioned that She had to use the bathroom. Before She could get up, Ms. Desiree’ was instructing the intruder that he needed to be Her toilet.

Surprised by Ms. Desiree’s somewhat humiliating order, he attempted to refuse. Mistress Janessa kicked him in the balls and Mistress Raven whipped off Her skirt, to sit Her rump right on his face. The other ladies held him down. When he started to squirm around for air, She lifted Her butt a little marmaris escort and asked him if he wanted to breathe. He said that he did, laughing out loud, She sat right back down. Then again, She lifted Her butt and asked if he was going to drink Tia’s piss. He indicated that he would not. She sat back down. She repeated this exercise several more times until finally he agreed to be Tia’s toilet.

“Now there’s a good little boy,” cooed Ms. Desiree’. She instructed the maid to piece of plastic for the floor beneath the intruder’s head. She and the Ladies moved the intruder into the next room because the rug was a darker color there. Staining would not be an issue if the plastic did not hold up anyway.

Ms. Desiree’ took off Her underwear because She intended to piss as well and stood over the intruder to show Tia how to aim. Then She backed up and let Tia relieve Herself first because She had spoken up first. Next Mistress Janessa decided She needed to go. Ms. Desiree’ and Mistress Raven both emptied Their bladders on the intruder’s face. Even though he was instructed to keep his mouth open and to drink the piss, he kept closing it to swallow what seemed like gallons. Occasionally he would gag, cough and attempt to turn his head. Mistress Janessa was right there to kick his balls when he did. It became necessary to squat right over his face.

Eventually, the plastic on the rug was made useless by sharp high heels poking through it. The rug and the intruder’s hair were soaked with piss. Ms. Desiree’ decided to move this fun into the bathtub. Once the idea caught on, pretty much everyone wanted to use the human toilet. Some of the Ladies were going into the kitchen to get drinks that they hoped would make them have to piss more. After placing the now piss soaked intruder in the tub, Ms. Desiree’ instructed Her maid to bring refreshments to the dining room and clean the mess upstairs.

What started out a tea party quickly turned into a pissing party as the Ladies amused Themselves over and over. Not allowed to use the shower, the intruder was handed his clothes when all had tired of him and told to leave. Somebody had even thrown his shirt in the tub where it had absorbed liquid rather quickly. Embarrassed and humiliated, the intruder left without a word.

“Do you think he will come snooping around again?” asked Mistress Janessa.

“Not if he has an ounce of intelligence,” replied Ms. Desiree’

THE END

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

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

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

Had she really called her “Miss Tits-a-lot” or had Fiona imagined it? She didn’t have time to speculate, as she rushed down the corridor to the waiting plane. Stumbling into the first class cabin, she attracted everyone’s attention. The other passengers whispered, and a few pointed. She ignored them and made it to her seat. She had the aisle seat, and there was already a woman dressed in a navy pinstriped business suit sitting in the window seat. The woman glanced up and Fiona smiled. Giving her a cold look, the woman returned to the papers in front of her.

Fiona began kicking at her bag to shove it under the seat in front of her. The flight attendant approached her and said, “I’m sorry, that bag is too big to fit under the seat. You’ll have to stow it in the overhead compartment.”

Fiona had been afraid of this. Pulling the bag up by its strap, she reached up to put it in the overhead, which was already crammed full of luggage. As she reached up, she felt her skirt rising in the back. The passengers seated in the rows behind her got a clear view of a pair of reddened ass cheeks peeking out of her skirt. Fiona reached to the side to move another bag out of the way, and the passengers still watching her progress wondered at the gold ring protruding from her asshole that was now visible. The passengers on the other side of the aisle were getting a different view. When Fiona raised her arms, the tiny t-shirt crept up so that the bottom globes of her huge tits hung out. Almost the entire first class cabin was mesmerized.

Once she secured her bag, Fiona quickly pulled her skirt and t-shirt down and took her seat. The businesswoman sitting next to her looked over and said, “Are you a stripper?”

Fiona turned scarlet. “No, I’m not a stripper.”

The woman pushed her glasses back up on her nose. “Hmmmm.”

Since Fiona had rushed for her flight, she hadn’t had time to use the bathroom before boarding. Once the seatbelt light went off, she stood up to make her way down the aisle. Just at that moment, the flight attendant began the drink service and had her cart in the aisle.

She smiled as Fiona approached. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to squeeze by.”

Fiona stepped to the side and turning her body sideways, facing the cart, she squeezed by. As she did so, she felt someone pinching her ass. She swung her head around, but the two men in the seats she just passed were both looking down reading.

She finished in the bathroom and started down the aisle again. The flight attendant hadn’t moved the cart one inch. Again, Fiona had to squirm through. This time she placed her back to the cart and faced the two men. Her tits came close to hitting the man in the aisle seat in the face. Just as she was about to draw back, she felt someone pulling at the ring on the dildo. She gasped and smashed her tits in his face anyway. Looking around, she saw the flight attendant smiling benignly.

Once she shimmied past the cart, several napkins fluttered down in front of her. The flight attendant sighed. “How clumsy of me. Could you do me a favor and pick those up for me?”

Fiona stared into the hard, bright eyes for a moment and realized what was required of her. She turned and bent over at the waist to pick up the napkins. This time, her thoroughly spanked ass was fully exposed to anyone behind her, along with the ring on the dildo.

The flight attendant giggled. “Oh my, someone was a bad girl.”

Fiona handed her the napkins, and before she had a chance to pull down her skirt, the flight attendant smiled sweetly and handed her two drinks. “Something’s wrong with my cart. I think the wheel’s stuck. Could you help me out, and hand these drinks over to the couple in the next aisle?”

With her skirt still hiked up, Fiona bent forward to deliver the drinks. She leaned low over the man’s tray table, brushing his arms with her tits. The woman in the seat next to his hooked her finger in Fiona’s neckline and pulled her down until her tits were resting on her tray table.

Inspecting her cleavage, she asked, fethiye escort “What size are those?”

Fiona whispered, “36 double D.”

The woman raised her voice. “I can’t hear you.”

Fiona repeated, “36 double D” in a louder voice.

The woman snorted. “I think your surgeon gave you a little bonus.” She turned to the man seated next to her, “What do you think, Maury? You think her surgeon gave her a little extra for her money?”

Maury reached over to where Fiona’s tits were still resting on the tray table and gave them a squeeze. “I think so. You got a good deal there, honey.”

The woman explained to Fiona, “My husband and I are both cosmetic surgeons, and those are definitely bigger than double D’s. I’ll tell you what. You keep running around without a bra, and those big melons are going to be sagging down to your navel pretty soon. I’ll give you our card, and when those tits are flopping around down your waist, give us a call and we’ll tighten them right up for you.” She winked as she stuck her card in Fiona’s cleavage. “We might even give you a little extra. Now be a good girl and get me a cup of ice.”

As Fiona stood straight, she became aware that quite a few passengers had been listening to her conversation with the cosmetic surgeon. A few were eyeing her tits speculatively. She stumbled back to the cart, which still hadn’t progressed any further down the aisle. The flight attendant had obviously been listening, for she held a cup of ice out for Fiona to take back to the woman.

Fiona bent over to deliver the ice, and felt a tug on her dildo ring. She turned around to two men pointing to their glasses for refills. And so it went. Fiona scurried up and down the aisles of the first class cabin delivering drinks to all the passengers. They grew bolder and bolder, commenting on her body, bouncing her tits in their hands, pinching her ass. With each new insult and humiliation, Fiona’s pussy got wetter and wetter.

At last the drink service ended and Fiona was allowed to return to her seat. As she sank to her seat, her seatmate glanced over at her. “So are you finished making a spectacle of yourself? You may as well have been naked for all the good those clothes did in covering your body. You must be incredibly horny right now. Tell me, are those pussy lips of yours swollen and hot?”

Fiona looked down and nodded.

The flight attendant approached and asked the woman if she preferred salmon or steak. The woman indicated her preference and the flight attendant turned to Fiona. Just as Fiona opened her mouth to reply, her seatmate spoke for her. “She won’t be eating anything.” She patted Fiona’s belly. “She needs to watch her weight.”

The flight attendant accepted this and turned away. The woman looked over at Fiona. “Instead I’ll let you touch yourself.”

Immediately, Fiona reached between her legs and started masturbating. It felt so good, but the woman grabbed her wrist. “Don’t you cum until I tell you to.”

Fiona nodded and continued pleasuring herself. The flight attendant delivered the meal, hardly giving Fiona a glance. The woman ate her meal, and then unwrapped a breadstick. Handing it to Fiona, she said, “Here, fuck yourself with this.”

Fiona took the breadstick from her and began shoving it into her vagina. Her skirt was hiked up around her waist now, as she humped the breadstick furiously. She looked at the woman with pleading eyes, and she nodded. Fiona’s orgasm exploded as she manipulated the breadstick in and out. The flight attendant walked up in the middle of her climax, watching her finish.

She smiled brightly. “Well, some of us have better uses for food.”

The pinstripe suit laughed. “That’s right, but I think she deserves a little snack now, don’t you?”

The flight attendant agreed.

Fiona’s seatmate ordered, “Take the breadstick out of your pussy and eat it.”

Fiona gasped. How far was she willing to be pushed? She looked into the woman’s eyes, and just as with Pam alanya escort and Florencia, she felt compelled to obey. She pulled the soggy breadstick out of her pussy, holding it in front of her face for a few moments. Opening her mouth, she shoved it inside. She chewed it quickly, tasting her own juices. The act was incredibly erotic, and she felt her pussy heat up again. Her eyes strayed to the second breadstick on her seatmate’s tray, and the flight attendant laughed.

“I think she enjoyed her snack. Would you like another, Miss Tits-a-lot?”

Licking her lips, Fiona nodded. Her seatmate unwrapped it for her, but snatched it away when Fiona reached for it.

Her eyes glinted. “I think it’s my turn this time. Open up.”

Fiona spread her legs wide, while the woman probed her with the breadstick. Fiona sucked it in as if it were a prick, and began fondling her clit with her fingers. Again, her climax rocked her. The woman pulled out the breadstick and presented it to Fiona, who gobbled it up.

The two women laughed, and the flight attendant remarked that it was a shame that her ass was plugged with the dildo, because she was sure Miss Tits-a-lot would enjoy a treat from her own asshole too.

After the meal service, the lights on the plane were turned off. Some passengers were positioning themselves for sleep, others began watching movies on their individual screens. When her tray had been taken away, Fiona’s seatmate asked her to retrieve a pillow and blanket for her from the overhead.

Fiona reached up and got her the pillow and blanket. The woman flipped up the armrest between them. She smiled a little apologetically at Fiona. “I know it’s quite silly of me and quite childish, but I love to suck on something when I go to sleep, especially on an airplane. I’ve decide that your right tit is just the thing.”

Blushing, Fiona, raised her t-shirt over her right tit. Her seatmate plucked off the nipple clamp, sending shivers of pain through Fiona’s breast. She then positioned the pillow on Fiona’s lap, put her head down on it, and grabbed her tit.

“Recline your seat a little, so I can reach it.”

When Fiona got positioned, the woman took her tit in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around her nipple before clamping onto it. Fiona groaned with pleasure. The woman sucked contentedly until she fell asleep. Although her grip slackened when she fell asleep, she still had her mouth on Fiona’s tit. Fiona must have slept as well because the next thing she knew the flight attendant was tapping her shoulder.

“Wake up you sleepy heads. We’re starting to descend.”

Fiona’s seatmate woke up and drowsily gave Fiona’s tit a few more sucks before letting go. She re-attached the nipple clamp, and Fiona straightened her clothes.

As the plane landed, the woman looked over at Fiona and asked, “Is your Master or Mistress meeting you at the airport?”

Fiona’s cheeks burned red because the woman seemed to know what was going on more than Fiona herself did.

She thought of Pam and said, “My Mistress.”

The woman nodded and rubbed her hands. “I’ll deliver you safely into her possession.”

They got off the plane and Fiona told the woman where her Mistress was likely to be waiting. As they walked up to the security room, Fiona saw Pam in her uniform with her blond ponytail swinging behind her. Pam’s eyes widened slightly when she saw Fiona’s outfit, including the nipple clamps visible through the Miss Tits-a-lot t-shirt.

The pinstripe suit shook hands with Pam. “Here she is. I just wanted to let you know that your girl performed very well on the plane.” She patted the side of Fiona’s tit as she turned and walked away.

Pam looked her up and down, and then propelled her into the security office. She shut the door.

“So, you obeyed even when out of my sphere. What a different picture you present from when you first sashayed through my line a week ago. You were a haughty piece of ass then, weren’t you? Now you’re my manavgat escort little bitch. Aren’t you my little bitch?

Fiona thrust her tits out and answered, “Yes, I’m your little bitch.”

Pam nodded her approval. “Do you know what’s shoved up in your asshole, Miss Tits-a-lot?”

Fiona replied, “Drugs?”

Laughing, Pam said, “Sometimes a dildo is just a dildo. There are no drugs in your ass now, Miss Tits-a-lot. Do you believe me?”

Fiona whispered, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Pam spread the pictures from JFK out on the table. “Of course, I do still have these.”

Fiona glanced down at the pictures of Florencia standing next to her spread out ass cheeks holding the drug-filled dildo.

Pam swept up the pictures. “I’ll tell you what, Miss Tits-a-lot, you’re free to go. You can walk out of this airport and never see me again. These pictures,” she waved them in her hand, “will be for personal consumption only.”

Fiona suddenly felt depressed. What would she go back to? How could she continue her meaningless affairs? She would only have her memories of this one week where she felt more sexually aroused than she ever had before. She met Pam’s eyes.

Pam chuckled. “Or, you could continue your training with me.”

Fiona’s eyes shined with anticipation.

Her eyes narrowing, Pam said, “I won’t be an easy Mistress. You’ll work hard for me. However, I won’t be stingy with your orgasms. As long as you perform adequately for me, you’ll be allowed to cum often. I won’t coerce you though, Miss Tits-a-lot. You have to enter into this willingly. I hold nothing over your head. Do you wish to continue your training?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Pam smiled again. “I thought that would be your answer. I had you figured out the moment I laid eyes on you. This is what I will require of you. You have to quit your job. You’ll give up your own place and move in with me. I will have total control over your life. I’ll tell you when and what to eat. I’ll tell you how to dress and buy all your clothes for you. Hell, I’ll even tell you when and where you can take a shit. Is all that understood, Miss Tits-a-lot?”

The idea of being under this woman’s command both frightened and excited Fiona, but her brain was being controlled by her cunt, which was now throbbing and twitching. She answered again, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Pam nodded. “Good. Now strip off your clothes and bend over that table, spreading your legs.”

Fiona complied like she knew she would. Pam grasped the gold ring of the dildo and pulled it out of her ass. “Now turn your head around and watch me.”

As Fiona twisted her head around, she saw Pam open a black bag. Pam withdrew a huge double dildo with a belt attached to it. She then, over her uniform, buckled the leather belt around her waist and positioned the two dildos in front of her.

Fiona had never seen a strap-on before, but she knew this was one. Pam was going to take possession of her by fucking both her holes.

Pam took some oil from the black bag and lubricated both dildos. She stood between Fiona’s spread legs, placing the dildos at both of her openings. She grunted, “Open up, bitch,” as she nudge the dildos into the holes.

Fiona cried out as both big cocks pierced her and Pam began humping her in earnest. Pam reached forward and grasped Fiona’s tits in both hands, squeezing as she continued to fuck her.

Hearing the door open behind them, Fiona looked around. The black, female security guard, Malika, walked into the room. She grinned at Fiona.

“I see you brought her to heel, Pam.”

Pam was too busy to respond. The strap-on was obviously stimulating her clit, and she gasped as she gave huge thrust into Fiona, almost lifting her from the table. She recovered and stood up, still impaling Fiona with the double dildo. She turned to Malika and smiled. “The bitch is mine.”

After Fiona got dressed in her tiny outfit and Pam put the strap-on away, she stood in the center of the room awaiting her next instructions.

Pam faced her holding out a card. “Here’s my address. Quit your job, give up your place, and report to my townhouse by the end of the week. Pack only your slutiest clothes, and I’ll fill out the rest of your wardrobe.”

Fiona took the card and began leaving the room.

Pam grasped her wrist. “Just one more thing. You need to legally change your name to Miss Tits-a-lot.”

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

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

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

With songs and honors sounding loud
Address the Lord on high;
Over the heavens he spreads his cloud,
And waters veil the sky.

He lets his showers of blessing pour
To cheer the plains below;
He makes the grapes on hillsides bear
And the corn in valleys grow.

————————————

“I am a gift, from Viktor Kropusek to Arthur Wilson, given in thanks and apology. Do with this gift as you please, for as long as you please.”

He’d just walked into his house. The girl stood by the fireplace. She’d lit a fire. She wore a simple strapless summer dress of a gold knit material that reached half way down her thighs. She had a broad foreheaded face with beautiful gray eyes. Her hair floated about her shoulders, a wheat colored cloud. Her feet were bare.

He blazed into anger, “Get the fuck out!” he roared, “Out!”

She looked back at him calmly. “That wasn’t for very long.”

“Out! God-damn it!” he roared.

“OK OK,” she said, “But you know I don’t have like a coat and I have to call a cab and I have no shoes. Could I at least wait inside?”

“Get the fuck out!”

She bent to pick up her bag. It lay on the floor to one side. Bending lifted her dress and he had a quick glimpse of the diamond shaped gap where her thighs met her bottom. She walked past him, he had a whiff of violets, then on to the front door. She swung it open and stepped onto the front step. He slammed the door behind her.

He went into the kitchen, poured himself a stiff scotch and drained it. From work, he’d taken the train to his suburb and then walked the mile through the sleet of a late March storm. He’d unlocked his front door, his glasses had steamed, he’d looked into the living room, surprised at the subdued light, and there she’d stood.

He returned to the living room, the fire the only light, and looked out the front window. She stood, or rather hopped on the walk, dancing from bare foot to bare foot. The slush lay almost up to her ankles. He could see his footsteps and now that he noticed, a second faint trail that must be hers from earlier.

“Shit.” he said.

He went back into the hall, opened the front door and called. “All right. Wait inside.”

She ran up the steps and past him. She stood in the hall, shaking, her teeth chattering.

“You wait right there,” he said. “How long is it going to be?”

“They said half an hour. The f-f-fucking roads are slippery.”

He sighed, then went back into the kitchen, poured himself another drink, then after a hesitation, said, “Shit” under his breath and poured a second glass. He handed that to her and went into the living room. He sat on a stuffed chair, the fire to his face, his back to her. He bent his head and looked at his drink.

“So what’s all this about?” she asked. She leaned on the doorjamb looking into the living room.

“Just wait for your cab and be quiet,” he said.

“You know, I get dumped at some strange house out in the sticks and get put in the hands of some lunatic guy I don’t know. And then I get like yelled at? It’s natural that I’m curious? What’s going on here?”

“You know,” she said in a softer voice, “If you tell me you might feel better. The gift might not get used as intended, but maybe it’d do some good.”

He sighed, “Not every year, not even every other, a girl gets delivered, always in March. I don’t want or welcome it.”

“But why? And why in reward? And why in apology? I had to like memorize those stupid words.”

When he said nothing, she asked, “What did he do to you, that Viktor Kropusek? Did he take your money, screw you at work, take your girl?”

“I’m not going to tell something I’ve kept to myself for 20 years to a whore.” he said bitterly.

“You know,” she said, “If I laugh, it’s only a whore’s laugh, it won’t matter one way or the other to you.”

Then she said, “Come on, the cab’ll be half an hour. If you’re talking I won’t be able to bug you.”

He was amused in spite of himself. He was silent and she thought he was going to remain that way. Then he said, “Shit,” sadly and began to talk. He was an awkward story teller, hardly able to make himself understood, but in his mind, this is what he remembered.

————————————

Another March storm. His doorbell rang. On the stoop stood a coated figure, a young woman. With a start he recognized her, Katy, a colleague at work, a work friend, his mind amended. The shock of the unexpected had made his mind slow, what was she doing here? Behind her snow fell in large plentiful flakes. Everything was coated by a wet blanket, still thin. She looked up at him. She was clearly nervous. He felt surprised and tongue tied, his face hot.

“Hey,” she said, “I’ve got this bag with Chinese takeout, I’ve got this Champagne, I thought maybe we could like celebrate closing the deal together.”

“How?” he managed.

“How did I get your address? When you vanished from the office, telling only Tom that you were too tired for the party, he said you never go, even though without you these deals would like never üsküdar escort take place, well I kinda like pleaded and begged and he gave it to me. Look, Arthur, I don’t want to be with them. I want to be with you. I’ve learned so much working with you. I know you’re tired. We’ve been like non-stop on this thing for the last 3 months. How about we just eat the Chinese, split the Champagne and then I’ll either leave on my own steam or keel over with my head on my plate and you can push me out onto the sidewalk to sleep it off in the snow. OK?”

Arthur couldn’t speak. She was very pretty with dark brown hair about her shoulders, hazel eyes, and soft gleaming milky skin. Her coat was open in front, revealing a dark blue suitable for the office and then party afterward dress. Her calves were very nice and her feet were tipped in high heeled black pumps. When she’d joined the team 5 months ago, transferring from the San Francisco office, he’d figured she couldn’t be good for anything, she was so pretty. How wrong he’d been! She’d been the hardest worker in their group. Putting in more hours even then he. At 2 or 3 in the morning, he’d find her dialed in to work and one or the other would phone and they’d go over some point in some financial statement. She’d been particularly good at interviewing the weird technical types who worked at the prospective acquisition and verifying that what they said they had really was what they said and did in fact work. And on her own, she’d made a kind of human inventory of the acquisition’s workers, at least those in sales and marketing and engineering positions, getting quite an accurate picture of how much dead wood and how much creative talent the place had. Because of her they weren’t going to ship everything to India now that they owned the place.

During that whole time he’d longed for her and lusted for her and wondered about her life outside work, but had never nerved himself to say a thing. Normally he hardly spoke to anyone about anything besides work, and with her… The furthest afield they’d ever gotten was discussing research on what the firm’s competitors might be planning. Now there she stood.

The smell of the food hit him and he found himself ravenous for it and for her.

“I’m getting cold. I’m gonna come in? We’ll like have our own bash,” she said firmly and stepped passed him and into the hall.

He took a deep breath of the now scentless outside air and calmed himself. This was going nowhere. She was just being nice.

The house was really small, especially given what his income must be. Looking to the left she saw the dining room. To the right was a small living room with a modest TV, some furniture and a fireplace. On the coffee table was a stack of papers and computer printouts. He had a desktop computer sitting beside the low table with its monitor and keyboard on the glass surface. “Shit, you were working!” Indeed he had been. Starting on the documentation for the next business their firm was thinking of buying.

She looked at him standing in the hall, slender, with thin wire rimmed glasses, looking lost and confused. She felt a little glow of warmth. He was a few years older, maybe thirty. He’d been with the firm for 5 years, coming to it right after grad school. You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but he was hot stuff.

“This is nice,” she said, carrying the takeout into the dining room and peering on into the kitchen. The dinner table was dark wood, there was a dark wood and glass chest displaying dainty china, and a sideboard.

“The furniture and china were my grandparents,” he managed.

She had the paper bag with the Chinese in one hand and over her shoulder she had slung a largish leather handbag. The smell of the food, the hint of her perfume and just the presence of her made him feel a vacumn.

“Plates,” she said. “Get plates and napkins and such like. And Champagne glasses.” She pulled out the little boxes of white rice and the larger plastic containers holding her choices and set them in the middle of the table. Then she went into the kitchen and helped carry. For the champagne all he had was a pair of juice glasses.

“Shall I?” she asked, peeling the wrapping and wire from the bottle. He was too frozen and dumbfounded to think what she meant. One minute he was starting to get his first tentative feel for a small PC software startup, the next…

She expertly gripped the cork and twisted the bottle. There was a soft whoof and she eased the cork off. She poured and handed him his juice glass. “To us! And a cool hundred mill for Rienhart & Krupusek!”

They ate quietly for what seemed like agonizing years. He, because he could in his agony think of nothing to say. She? What he wondered was she thinking? Whatever was she doing here? She could be out with the other guys, he imagined the noise of the bar, the laughter, the talk on incomprehensible subjects that had nothing to do with numbers.

After almost 5 minutes, she sighed. “I thought this might happen. Maybe a little game to break the ice?”

She reached into her handbag gaziemir escort and produced a deck of cards. She shuffled them then pushed them across. “Cut?” Her eyes never left his.

After he did, she took another bite of General Tso’s chicken, licked her lips, and instructed, “Turn the top card over.”

He did. He stared at it blankly. On the card was the picture of a gleaming object made of clear plastic. It had a wide base on which sprouted a slim christmas tree shaped thing.

“What kind of card game is this? How do I play that?”

She looked at him. Then she laughed in a short pleased burst. She wiped her lips and stood. She quickly lifted her skirt and pulled her underwear down over her knees. If he’d had any capability of rational thought left, that glimpse of her white thighs would’ve blown it away. She let her skirt fall back and then stepped out of the panties.

From her bag she took a plastic object shaped exactly like the picture on the card. She took her juice glass and let a little dribble of the idly bubbling gold liquid fall on the object’s rounded end, where the top ornament of a christmas tree would cling. She set the object on her chair, out of his view, then, looking at him, she lifted her skirt again, this time, because of the table he could not see her white thighs. She slowly sat. She used one hand to grip the edge of the table and steady herself. The other reached around and down out of sight, making adjustments. Her expression became slightly vacant and abstracted as she settled herself slowly, rocking her hips about.

“There,” she said after she’d settled. “Pity you couldn’t see anything. I like being on a pedestal for my guys. It’s like being the statue of their goddess.”

He thought about where the object had vanished.

“What are you playing at?” he asked.

“Cards, and if you like the game, turn over another.”

This time the picture showed a length of gold chain, a clamp at either end. She took a bite of Szechuan style pork with broccoli, met his eyes, wiped her lips, and lifted the corresponding object from her bag.

“These don’t go on the ears,” she said, making a play of attaching one end to an earlobe. “You’ll get a good view of this.”

She undid the buttons of her dress, pulled it down off her shoulders, then efficiently removed her bra. Her breasts stood up, smallish but sweet. Her nipples visibly stiffened.

“Would you like to do the honors?” She saw his expression, laughed, and said, “Next time.” With practiced movements she tightened each clamp’s jaws on its nipple, whistling silently against the sting. What a sight she made with the chain vanishing below the table edge to hang in her lap.

“Doesn’t that, doesn’t that,” he fumbled for words.

“Hurt? sure.”

“But, do you like it?”

“The pain? No. But it makes me shiver to think about it, to anticipate it, to think how I’ll look, and I like watching you enjoy it. You do don’t you?”

“What sort of game is this?” he asked again.

This time she said, “No game really, this is our celebration. I am giving myself to you.”

She grinned when she saw him swallow. Then she shivered, “You wouldn’t turn up the thermostat would you?”

He got up, stumbled, tipping his chair over with a bang and went into the hall. From the basement there came a rumbling groan as the furnace kicked on.

“Pick another card,” she said when he’d righted his chair and resumed his seat. “And don’t forget to eat. You’ll need your strength later.”

“You really have that many, well, things in your bag?”

She grinned, “You’d be surprised. A card.”

This time it showed another plastic object, long and slim, its purpose obvious. Even he could recognize a stylized penis. She took one from her bag, dribbled champagne on it, then it vanished from view under the table. He watched transfixed as she pulled at her dress, shifted in her chair, obviously opening her thighs. He watched as she looked down at herself with rapt concentration. He watched her arms move gently back and forth. She closed her eyes and looked at the ceiling. A gasped “OH” escaped her lips, then she shivered again and shook her head. She took a large gulp of her champagne. He refilled her glass.

“Why do you suppose that men like watching a woman fool with herself?” she asked.

When he said nothing, but just sat helplessly gawking, she sighed, “Another.”

He surprised her by all but croaking, “What’s the score?”

She laughed, he’d loved hearing that laugh in the office. When she stood in the little kitchenette, chatting with the guys on some subject that he invariably didn’t understand, her laugh always made him feel at ease. “You are losing big time, bud. Next one may change your luck though.”

This time he turned over a whip, slim and black. It had a black plastic handle and long black leather tassels. Everything in him went still.

Her slim hand reached into the bag and rummaged and came out with the object.

————————————

He looked up sancaktepe escort at the slim girl where she leaned on the doorjamb, he hardly saw her he was so lost in memory, “Of course no one ever expects actually whip another person. It’s so beyond imagination. Or even to hit anyone. The last time I’d hit someone it was a boy in second grade, on the playground, and the humiliation of going to the office!”

————————————

“Here,” she handed the whip to him, handle first. He fumbled and dropped it onto the rug. He bent and picked it up. It felt cold and hard in his hand, dry and smooth as a snake. She bent forward, placed her hands palm down on the table. “Practice on my back,” she said. “You can’t miss that.”

He took it and stood. His chair tumbled over again. This time he tripped and found himself on all fours.

“Hey”, she said, “You’re not the one who’s supposed to get hurt here.”

He picked himself up, rounded the table and stood behind her. The line of her spine, the shifting outline of her shoulder blades, the lines of her ribs, he could’ve looked at how they pressed against her smooth skin all night.

“Hey,” she said again.

He slapped her back. The leather strands spread and seemed to caress her smooth skin, touching her shoulder blades like the soft fingers of a lover.

She laughed. “Jesus. Here give me that.” She straightened, took the whip, then “Hold out your hand, palm up”

When he did, she swung it back and brought it flailing around hard so its ends lashed across his wrist.

“Shit!” he cried. Despite the sting, the sight of her swinging arm, the play of her delicate shoulders, the bounce of her breasts and the glittering chain, excited him beyond measure.

“Like that,” she said, keeping up her tone of disdain, “Across my back.”

“Wait,” he said, “If I am going to whip you, it should be for cause. One shouldn’t just punish randomly.”

She grinned. “I do so like you. How about for barging in and disturbing your peace?”

“Yep that’s it. Worse, you’re delaying the start of our next project, we’re going to want to move fast on this one.” And he brought the whip down hard on the line of her spine. She yelped and twisted. The plastic inside her must also have had an effect since she bounced a couple times more and only was still after a visible effort.

A spread of red ran down her white skin, like a rash. He so admired how her back narrowed just above her hips. Her dark blue dress puddled there, he had just a slight view of her bottom. He could see nothing of either object. He struck her again and again.

As he did, she yelped and bounced and twisted. Her beautiful smooth face hardened into a grimace, he could almost see the face of the older woman she would become. She climaxed with a high pitched sound, somewhere between a yelp and a squeal. He stroked her back hard several more times, his arm ached. He was surprised at how turned on he felt.

“Jesus, Jesus Jesus,” she sighed.

He turned over another card. It showed a nude young woman, kneeling, her hands resting on her thighs, palms up, thighs open enough so that her smooth hairless pussy was in plain view.

“Let’s go into the living room,” he managed.

She stood, her dress dropped about her ankles. He admired the plastic bases that stuck from her cunt in front and from between her ass cheeks in the rear.

He bent to get her bag, but then said, “Bring the whip, the bag and the cards.”

She bent, the chain swinging. He thought she was the best thing he’d ever seen. And when she walked before him, high heels clicking…

“Please make a fire,” he said.

She hesitated. He took the whip from her and waved it threateningly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how,” she murmured.

He lashed her hard across the ass.

“Ignorance is no excuse,” he said. “Put three pieces of wood in the grate, lengthwise, 2 on the bottom, one resting on them. Take the cast iron tray on the side there, pour a little kerosene onto it, you’ll find a small can in the cupboard there, slide it under the grate and light it.”

He sat in an easy chair and watched as she moved tentatively about. How sweet she looked. She hesitated with the match. “Light it,” he said, “Or I’ll light your ass.”

She struck it and the kerosene lit with a soft gentle flame. The wood above it would soon catch.

She started to kneel on the hearth rug, but he said, “Stand still.” He went to her. He touched a clamped nipple curiously. She shifted on her feet. He began to explore her body. Her skin felt soft and smooth and warm. He felt that right then, she was an inanimate object, made of some exquisitely expensive warm synthetic, an inanimate object that belonged to him. He could do what he wanted to it without consequence. He twisted a pinched nipple and she gasped. He let his hands rove down her flanks, over her flat belly. He fingered the taut flesh of her cunt, stretched around its guest. He pinched her sex lips and she jumped. He jiggled the base of the plastic lodged in her ass. He noticed that her breathing was getting short, there was an excited look in her eyes. He put a firm hand on her flat belly, another on the small of her back. He pushed his hands together, trying to push the air out of her, like he was working a bellows. She was so firm and alive in his grip. He caressed her thighs, then her breasts, then gripped her chin firmly, turned her face to his and kissed her.

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Mistress paused, to let the enormity of her comments sink in. What would Archie her husband be doing now?

Would he be stripping at this point or frantically checking on the websites he’d been on and erasing his history. He was caught and if he only knew how his life was going to change, he might not have looked at some of the more extreme sites he had.

“You’ve been a very naughty boy, you should have told me what you wanted and needed. Then I could have taken our sub/Domme roleplay further, much further.”

“I’ve seen the countless stories of Big black cock cuckolding, water-sports, forced bi and forced gay scenes and sissy training, on your computer Archie. All of them, so many dirty things you’ve looked at and wanked over.”

“As for the hypno sissy videos I’ve sat and watched the ones you’ve watched over and over again, to understand exactly what you need. Well you like the idea of being a dirty little slut and sucking huge cocks, now that I can help you with.”

“I’ve even checked how much poppers you use when I’m away overnight. Just realize right at this minute, I know what a slut you want to be.”

God he was in deep and now it really would be starting to dawn on him that there was no way out from this. If she knew everything he’d watched, liked and messaged about, he was well and truly fucked.

“Don’t forget Archie on Literotica I can see every single comment you’ve made under your subbiguy alias.”

“I’ve read every single comment you’ve made in your messages on Collar Space, your profile on Fetlife and every photo you have loved. I know so much about your depravities now.”

“But they are no longer your depravities to control, now they are mine, you are mine and unless you submit completely and utterly to me there will be no future for us.”

She smiled a predators smile into the camera, then carried on talking to her husband.

“Now just look at what you can become Archie, take a long hard look at pig here. As you can see a little out of shape just like you, a little pathetic cock that could never hope to please a woman just like yours. He is you, just a properly trained and programmed version of you.”

She looked into the camera and I felt sure would have her husband transfixed.

“This pig walked into a gay sex shop, not even two full days ago an outwardly straight married guy. Now look at him, or should I say it. Just look at the dirty whore he has become.”

I was kneeling looking into the camera, I could hear what she was saying and I was pleased by it.

“Look at these lovely long false eyelashes and these very sexy nail extensions in time you’ll have these too. Not to mention pigs beautiful little titties and these fabulously huge nipples, both of which we can achieve with a few little saline injections, which I intend to become proficient at giving you.”

My place now was to be the best pig I could be for Master S. I wanted to help her to ensnare her husband. I thought that was what Master S would have wanted.

Now the thoughts, that I wanted to be dressed, to be restrained, to be full and to be watered and fed were circulating in my brain. Even with the low level of poppers in my system. God I needed something big in my ass soon. I needed to be full every day in every way. I needed cum.

Mistress Fiona turned and began to stroke the back of my head, then moving over my shoulder to my B cup tits, caressing me, then down to my nipples. She rolled one in her fingers, I was in heaven and let out a little moan.

“Look Archie, it’s not fighting it, even a little, it just accepts what I say. Its mind and soul have been freed so it can be a completely whorish, slutty pig. The one he’s always dreamed of being deep down. Just like you’ve begun to dream Archie.”

She massaged my tit and nipple roughly and I did all I could do and simply moaned with pleasure, my cock twitching.

“Archie I know you’ve fantazised about being just like pig here. You’ve thought about it each and every time you’ve wanked your little cocklet, haven’t you.”

I guessed he’d be nodding his head at this point.

“Well I’m going to set you free to be the best slut you can be. As your Mistress not just your wife.”

“So it’s time to strip Archie and go to the walk in wardrobe and there is a large box on the floor, get it but don’t open it until you’re kneeling in front of the computer.”

She knew he wouldn’t see this until later in the day, but obviously thought he was bound to follow instructions.

She even paused in the film for a couple of minutes to allow him to collect the things.

“Remember Archie, I know what you want, I have what you need.”

“So that’s what you’re going to get now, total and utter control.”

“Let’s get you prepared, as I dress pig here in front of you for this education session, open the box and everything you need for your first training session is in there. I’ll want you to copy what I do, I hope you understand Archie. It’s very important.”

“Get your poppers Archie and take 5 of the zonguldak escort longest breaths you can in alternate nostrils. Hold each breath for a count of 10 before you exhale.”

She paused to give her husband time to take his slut juice.

“Robert pass me the choker please.”

Robert reached over to the bed and passed the choker to Mistress, now Archie would be able to see him on camera for the first time.

I realized I was staring at the same sight Archie would be looking at.

Those sculptured chocolate abs, muscular thighs, taut butt cheeks and most of all that magnificent swinging club of a black cock.

Circumcised, a big bulbous beautiful head, veins running up and down the length, it was stiffening, swelling and rising by the minute.

Archie would be staring at the cock that was going to fuck his wife in all 3 holes as he watched. I found myself jealous of Archie, what an amazing moment this would be for him.

Mistress Fiona placed the CUM WHORE choker around my neck and tightened it an extra notch compared to earlier. She seemed to appreciate that my breaths were much harder to get in and that it increased the intensity of my breathing, which was presumably her aim.

“Now pig do you want some slut juice to help you?”

“Yes please Mistress, I need my slut juice, please let me have some Mistress Fiona.”

“You see Archie, not just a need but a deep seated craving, pig just has to have it.”

She got Robert to pass the two bottles of poppers and the nose plugs and shoved them roughly up my nostrils.

I leaned my head back and breathed in for all I was worth, overloading my senses again, ohhhhhhhhhhh pigggie heaven, here I come.

As I leaned back I didn’t realize that the result was pushing my smaller tits and big jutting nipples forward and for my clit to be straining up and forward too.

In animal terms I was on heat, making a show for Robert, trying to get myself bred. The choker pushing forward and shining in the camera lights said it all.

“Now stand pig and let’s get these stockings on. She had rolled up the rubber stockings and I put my hand on her shoulder as she gently put them on me and rolled them up in turn.”

“Archie I presume you’ve found your stockings there and that you are putting them on slut. Yours are seamed so make sure the seams at the back are straight.”

“Then padlock the wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs on and get the 8 inch black dildo I’ve bought for you. Its thicker than you pathetic little butt plug so you’ll need a lot of slut juice to help you, so load up on those poppers.”

“Lube the full length of the dildo then use the suction cup to fix it to the floor in front of your desk, so you can see the screen at all times. Make sure you have the box easily to hand, it has to be within easy reach slut.”

“Once you have that, kneel in front of the dildo and put the head just inside your ass pussy for me.”

Again a pause to give him chance to catch up.

While she gave him time, Robert passed her the big thick black dildo I’d been impaled on previously for Mistress Caprice. She used the suction cup on the wooden floor and I simply knelt up to allow her access to put the dildo at my pussy entrance.

The contrast on the screen of my small but turgid white cock standing straight up with the huge black dildo below it ready to fuck me would not be lost on Archie.

“Right Archie, whenever pig has to take another inch, so do you, when he does so you will follow immediately, I hope you understand for you sake.”

“I want to show you with pig, just what level of depravity is possible, just how low we can aim to go. So take it all in. Study every moment.”

“First I want you to understand the psychological cravings placed in pig and how they now control him.”

“Robert if you’d be so kind.”

Robert replaced Mistress Fiona standing to my left, his cock now at my head height. He used his hands to guide me to face him so that Archie would be able to see every inch going into my slutty throat. I had to rotate carefully to keep the head of the dildo in my cunt.

Mistress Fiona turned to Melinda and asked her to put wrist and ankle cuffs on and attach them to each other.

As Melinda padlocked them all in place and connected each wrist to each ankle, all I could concentrate on was the stunning slightly wet cock head bobbing a few inches from my mouth.

I was leaning forward a little as if to take a little lick when Mistress Fiona strode forward and slapped my face.

“Not yet pig, what about your lipstick and hair.”

“Sorry Mistress Fiona but Master Robert looks and smells so good.”

“Look at this Archie, look deep, this is your future, he’s longing to taste Robert. Knowing that’s the only way to get his satisfaction, his ambrosia, but we have a few more improvements to make to show you how those Sissy Hypno videos you love so much, will work out for you.”

Melinda got the message and had me turn my head away from bursa escort the beautiful cock to do my deep red lipstick, to reapply eyeliner and eye shadow, before Mistress Fiona crowned my with my black bob wig.

“Look into the camera bitch and tell Archie who you are and what you want.”

I turned from the cock facing me to look directly into the camera.

“My name is Peter Johnson, although now I am pig, or cunt, or slut, or whore. I need to be fucked and to taste cock and to be fed multiple loads of real mens cum everyday and to be forced to drink lots and lots of piss.”

“I need to be plugged, stretched or fucked as often as possible and to have my slut juice whenever I can.”

As I said these things, the collar was making my breaths short and deep and I was overloading my system with poppers.

To my side, out of view of the camera, Mistress Fiona had opened a laptop and there was a live stream of two cameras in her husband’s office.

One to the side of the desk looking at his chair and the other looking straight on at the chair. The computer showed a split screen with both images but no sound.

She was obviously streaming the footage that we were currently filming with me to his computer but with a 20 minute delay. So he was watching the very start of the film.

Archie had just sat down at his office desk and read a note on his desk and had clicked on his email from his wife and was now opening the film file.

He did look a little like me, receding hair, slightly overweight, smart trousers and crisp white shirt, a standard businessman, just as I had been 2 days ago.

The look of first pleasure, then horror on his face as saw his wife dressed as a stunning dominatrix, auburn hair tumbling over her black corset, was priceless. He must have heard the first words from Fiona’s mouth, from 20 minutes ago when this all started.

As he heard her tell him that she’d seen every website he’d visited, the photo’s he’d liked, the videos he’s watched, his look of horror grew. His mouth was agape. He was though rubbing his cock through his trousers.

Then I got the answer to my question of his reaction, he didn’t stop the file or start to erase searching history, he simply unzipped his fly and took our his small but ragingly hard cock.

So he was now watching us just 20 minutes behind real time. I’d understand the reason for the 20 minutes as time went on.

“Now let’s get on with filming, Robert, time to take your pleasure and feed the pig. Ohh but before you do, put the nipple clamps on pig with the weights, Archie you need you’re nipple clamps on now my darling sissy.”

“I presume you’ve applied the lipstick from the box and the eyeliner, don’t worry about the nail extensions or false eyelashes, we’ll get to those later for you. But do put on your platinum blond wig Archie.”

“The pig is yours Robert, Archie watch every second of this, because later Robert is going to cuckold you and do this to you.”

I was again straining to lean forward a little but I needn’t have tried, Robert held the back of my wigged head and simply said.

“Open wide whore.”

I opened as wide as I could and he slammed 6 inches or so of his throbbing manhood into my mouth hitting the back and not getting full access to my entire throat.

Ohh to see Archie’s face as he saw this in 20 minutes time. The weights attached to the chain running from one enlarged nipple to the other swung backwards and forwards increasing the level of discomfort.

I sank back onto my dildo taking in more depth as I struggled to take Master Robert fully, he simply carried on ploughing forward until my throat gave up the fight and he was through the blockage.

Mistress Fiona was by the side of my head.

“Look Archie, is your mouth watering for Master Robert’s cock do you want to taste it like Cum Whore here, you can stroke a little but don’t you dare cum until I order you to.”

“Watch Archie, this is your slut maker, the only cock that will be going in my pussy from now on, a real mans cock, you’ll get to clean up though, as you love those creampie pics so much.”

“Archie you should have at least 4 inches of that dildo in you by now, if not sink lower bitch.”

Robert basically fucked my throat as aggressively as Mistress Caprice had earlier. I simply sank fully on the dildo and was content that I was being a good pig, even when I could barely breathe.

“Now pig when Robert cums, I want it all held in your mouth for Archie to see.”

I simply moaned some sort of yes Mistress which was unintelligible.

Robert removed most of his length from my throat just before he cock began to pulse and fill my mouth with cream.

I knelt there, make up smeared, wig slightly askew with my mouth wide open and completely full of cum, I turned to face the camera.

Fiona was again kneeling by me and looking into the camera.

“Archie, this will be you later, and this will be your sustenance, malatya escort your food. Now swallow pig.”

I dutifully swallowed my food. The feeling as I swallowed was one of happiness, but I needed more, after all it was not Master S’s perfect cum. I needed a few more mens cum to satisfy my hunger.

“Thank you Master Robert for feeding slut.”

Mistress Fiona pushed me down hard onto the dildo until I was flat against the floor. “Archie, all of the dildo should be in you now. Get me ready for Master Robert now Pig.”

She was standing astride my face, her ass facing the camera and that would be all her husband could see apart from her clenching butt cheeks as I licked her out.

She was soaking wet but so, so tasty, I licked, blew and stroked until she said enough.

She got onto all fours by the side of me and in front of the camera looking into the lens as Robert knelt behind her.

“Archie no tugging on you cocklet, in fact connect your wrists to your ankles, leaving the bottle of poppers open in front of you. Just watch Roberts face as he sinks into my pussy, he’s the only one who gets to be inside my pussy from now on.”

Robert slammed into her as she pushed back , my cock was aching watching them, such a turn on, how Archie would be feeling was anybodies guess.

Mistress Fiona was in absolute raptures enjoying his huge cock splitting her in half and reaching places her husband could never hope to get to.

He fucked her hard until she came wildly on camera putting on a special show for her husband. Then Robert shuddered for a second time as he filled her with his seed.

She continued to shake until finally her orgasm stopped and again she looked into the lens.

“Now Archie, that’s what I look like when I cum properly, you’ve not seen that for years and now you’ll get to see it much more often as your restrained in position to watch Robert fuck me.”

“The next treat for later on today is that I’m going to put on some lovely rubber panties and make sure all Roberts many seed is kept in my pussy for you to lap up later.”

“I’m saving it so you can show me just how much you like cream pies.”

“We have a couple of more aspects of your training to show you first though.”

“Melinda please could make up pig as the urinal, I’m sure the 3 of you all have full bladders.”

Melinda was only too pleased and raced to the bathroom to get the urinal funnel gag. She came back and I simply opened my mouth in anticipation. Just before she gagged me with the penis gag, Mistress Fiona scooped some of Roberts cum up and coated the gag with it.

Archie would clearly be able to see the glistening gag going into my mouth.

Once I was strapped in place, still impaled and sideways onto the computer Mistress Fiona again came too address Archie on the camera.

“Don’t worry Archie I know you don’t have a urinal gag there, but I have bought this one and will be bringing it home with me shortly.”

“At times you will be kept in it for a few hours at a time when I have the need for a full recycling urinal. Don’t even think about arguing with me, I’ve seen the stories and your comments on them about your desire to be forced to drink piss. As they say, be careful what you wish for bitch.”

“So here goes Archie, we’re all going to use the urinal one at a time, apart from me, I don’t want to lose any of your cream pie.”

Melinda stood astride my funnel and purposely aimed her concentrated stream of warm piss at my face for it to drip down and fill the funnel. I did my duty as a urinal. My stomach again growing little by little.

Then Mistress Caprice came onto cam, fuck I wish I could have seen Archie’s face as he saw her huge cock spitting out her piss for me to recycle. Finally Master Robert once his cock had deflated a little, pissed into my cup, a long continuous stream filling the funnel to the very brim.

I drank and drank and drank. Each mouthful extending my stomach a little more, rounding it off.

Once I’d finished, Melinda released me from the gag and took it away to wash it for Mistress Fiona.

“Now Archie for the ultimate humiliation for a man, pig is going to be fucked on camera in front of you by Robert. This will be you later on.”

She hadn’t told her husband when, but now I thought I knew what the 20 minutes of timelag were for. I guess they lived close by.

I could only imagine what Archie was feeling as he went through this experience, the humiliation of being on cam being way less intense, than if Robert were in the room with him.

That’s why I understood that on cam he could impale himself on the dildo, would he have been able to do that if Robert were there in the room with him, I doubted it.

It’s amazing though what people will do on cam when it feels like the person is miles away, their inhibitions are so much lower than in person. I wondered if Archie might regret that.

My wrist cuffs were unlocked from my ankles and I was told to get on all fours the weights hanging from my nipples swinging vigorously.

Then I was told to lower my head to the floor and my wrists were attached to my collar. I couldn’t move even if I’d tried.

I was sideways onto the camera still and felt Master Roberts cock head at my cunt entrance. No lube, no warning, just one deep slam until he was balls deep.

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Stuck in rush hour traffic, Amber lightly shook her head to ward off the oncoming drowsiness that seemed to follow every major workday. As an investment banker, the slender, red-haired 29-year-old was dedicated to becoming a partner at the firm within the next decade. However, such a goal was not without sacrifice. Luckily, she knew what awaited her when she arrived home every day. A dominatrix by nature, Amber was mistress to one female and two male lifestyle submissives who maintained her house in chastity until she left the office.

At a particularly long stoplight, Amber began rubbing her pussy through the thin fabric of her suit pants, thinking of what she would subject her slaves to that night. Slipping a finger past her thong, she massaged her clitoris a few times before entering her vagina. She closed her eyes and moaned at the sensual sensations floating through her body. A sharp honk from the trailing truck jolted Amber out of her sexual bliss. She put the car in gear and sped off for home, hot for more action.

Stepping through the doorway at her house, Amber was greeted by all three of her collared slaves kneeling on the floor. Jasmine, the female, was completely naked, save for a golden chain linking her nipple piercings and her chastity belt. A 22-year-old brunette with ivory skin, her cheeks were flushed with sexual anticipation. Dax, an 18-year-old brown-haired, white male, and Kashton, a 26-year-old black male, both wore skin-tight leather pants that left their balls and penises exposed, albeit still contained in chastity belts.

Amber unlocked all three belts with the key in her purse and commanded the three submissives to follow her into the large kitchen bahçelievler escort where Dax had prepared the household favourite, hot Italian sausage pasta. She sat down and ordered Jasmine to be restrained to “the rack” for her entertainment during the meal. The rack was a device similar to the stocks of the Middle Ages that tied the slave spread-eagle onto an upright pallet and then used a plank to press the slave’s hips into position in order to ease penetration into either hole. Once Jasmine was prepared, Kashton was commanded to fuck her anally without lube, while Dax licked his mistress’ pussy.

Kashton stepped up to the rack, manoeuvred Jasmine’s hips, and spread her ass cheeks with both hands. Placing his penis to the entry of her most private hole, he began to press inwards. Without the aid of lube, Jasmine’s ass at first resisted, and then relented with an audible “pop” as the head of Kashton’s penis penetration her sphincter. Jasmine winced with the initial pain, but began to relax as the heat generated from Kashton’s increasingly intense thrusts started to spread throughout her body. Amber watched with interest as her two slaves become one, shaking the rack and causing Jasmine ample breasts to sway in time with the thrusts.

Underneath the table, Dax skilfully pleasured his mistress with his mouth, swirling his tongue in and out of her vagina, around her clitoris, and occasionally back to her ass. Amber moaned and dropped her fork in order to grasp Dax’s head with both hands and grind his face into her pussy. Then, grabbing one of her uneaten sausages, she pushed Dax away and ordered him to fuck bağcılar escort himself with it while she fingered her pussy. She leaned back and watched as Dax positioned himself on his hands and knees facing away from her, placing the tip of the sausage to his anal entryway. He increased the pressure and sighed as the sausage slipped between his ass cheeks. Once it was fully entrenched in his ass, Dax began to pull it back out and then push it back in, picking up the pace until he was in time with the deep anal penetration taking place on the rack.

Back at the rack, Jasmine was becoming glassy-eyed as her slim legs and buttocks began to show red marks from Kashton’s unrelenting ass fuck. Each thrust was feeling its way through her warm bowel and burning her anal sphincter. Her gasps of pain and pleasure had increased to a steady breathlessness that made her vision swim in and out of focus. At the command of her mistress, she was giving Kashton access to her ass, filling her up completely, and leaving her wanting more. Finally, Kashton began to shake and spasm, shooting load after load of cum into Jasmine’s ass, coating the insides of her bowels in sticky goo. Feeling the ejaculation resulted in her own orgasm, causing the red marks on her ass and legs to burn as her female juices rolled out of pussy and down her legs.

Amber fingered herself to orgasm at the table and commanded Dax to remove the sausage from his ass and force feed it to Jasmine, who was still flushed and out of breathe from her ass fuck. Jasmine chewed the sausage, relishing in the unique flavour imparted by Dax’s bowels. Once she had swallowed, Amber ümraniye escort ordered for her to be released for her and Kashton to go have separate showers in order to prepare themselves for a special visitor later that night. Amber then turned to Dax (who had been denied an orgasm) and told him to tie his wrists to the manacles hanging from the ceiling beside the rack. Next, she walked over, fastened his ankles to the ropes and yanked his legs outwards into the splits position using a pulley, leaving him suspended to the ceiling. Securing a 9-inch strapon to her hips, she lowered Dax to hip height, smeared a dollop of butter from the table onto the strapon, and impaled his ass, pushing in to the hilt. Once he was completely skewered, she began to raise and lower Dax onto and off the strapon using the pulley, essentially fucking himself. The butter eased the passage of the strapon, but it was still 9 inches of silicon being deeply inserted into his ass over and over again. Still horny from the sausage, Dax closed his eyes to better feel the strapon as it pushed its way through his ass, slipping past his rectum, and finally imbedding itself all the way in. After only ten minutes of this, Dax’s anal muscles reflexively clenched on the strapon as he orgasmed, spurting his cum out of his almost-painfully erect penis and onto the floor below.

At the same time, the doorbell rang, causing Amber to quickly withdraw the strapon from Dax’s ass, slip out of the harness, and skip to the door. Hot and sweaty from her anal encounter, she opened the door and was delighted to see her special guest for the evening, Kara. Kara was an old friend from her college days. At 5’10, Kara was a tall, Hispanic beauty with large, tight breasts. She and Amber had spent many a “study night” in their youth fucking until dawn. Amber invited her friend inside for cocktails which were being prepared by Jasmine in the kitchen. Kashton, freshly bathed, came down the stairs and hung up Kara’s coat in the hall as the two women entered the dining room.

To be continued…

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Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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Chapter 2

Thank you for visiting this story! This is the second chapter in The Consortium. I recommend reading the first chapter for clarity on the characters, although each story is a progression of the first, you can understand it entirely on it’s own. Thanks again, Amuse’Moi.

P.S. Thank you all so much for your positive feedback, I really enjoy reading your private thoughts!

Mating Sessions

As the boy returned to his room with his prize, he noticed a stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. He calmly lifted her into his arms and cradled her there till they reached his chamber. She said nothing to him as she sunk into the warmth of his arms, warmth she’d been denied all morning. Once inside the room he laid her on the bed, gently. He covered her in a warm thick comforter.

“Rest, I will be back soon.” The boy quietly assured her.

She fell deeply into erotically filled dreams of sex and restraints. She didn’t even hear him upon retuning. She was awakened by the feel of straps binding her feet and hands.

A bit unnerved by this she pleaded, “I won’t run from you boy, Master has sent me to you. You do not need to bind me.”

Without looking at her he replied, “Yes you need to be bound because it pleases me to see you at my mercy. There are some rules you need to abide by here.”

She was confused, she thought this was only a session to be used and humiliated, he was acting like he now owned her by binding her without Masters presence, but she knew she remained her Masters property. “What is going on here? Is Master giving me to you?!”

“First I want to bind your feet then I will explain more. Roll over on our back please and spread your legs wide.” His voice had no trace of emotion; the lack of it worried her.

“Am I being punished by you, Boy?” She asked with as much defiance as she could muster.

“NO questions Or answers until you are bound and secured then you will get everything you desire. His voice carried a warning but with hints of hopefulness so she complied.

He attached lengths of cording to the cuffs on her ankles and then lifted her feet in the air to a pulley/spreader bar hovering over the center of the bed. Her legs hung tightly and her bottom swayed over the bed as her body was lifted slightly by a pulley the boy devised. Then he attached her hand cuffs to a hook on the wall above and behind her head. Her sex was lewdly displayed by her spread legs and this vulnerability began, despite her efforts, to make her moist. He sat heavily on the corner of the bed then, without ceremony, began probing her cunt dutifully with his fingers as he spoke to her.

“I know you must be confused and nervous but trust me when I say that your happiness and gratification is my utmost concern.”

She tried to look at him but felt shame because he was fingering her çeşme escort and she was shamefully responding. How could he be having a conversation like this, in this position, while he probed her and opened her to him? It was all too much for her to grasp so she shut her eyes and turned her head while she felt his fingers sliding in her moist hole. She concentrated on not moving to give him any satisfaction.

He continued, noting her distain and humiliation, “Now I know you heard Master command me to mate with you twice more today and tonight, this will not be easy but it is my orders to do so. I have put you in the best “position” for me to come inside and fill you with as little pain as it can be for you. I am preparing your wetness for me so I can show you what I mean by “position” and then you will be ready for me to mate you again. It will be easier on you if you give in and relax; I am trying to make this pleasant for you. But, know this; it will happen with or without your consent. Do you have anything to say?”

His concern for her made her lock eyes with him. He kept a steady probing of her cunt as if it was immaterial to the conversation. “How can you just impregnate me, do I not have any say on the matter?”

“Yes you do actually, you may accept this invasion of your body or you may leave, Master is testing your resolve to please him. You still have not learned that everything here is a test, to train you and sate your desires. I have seen your entry forms, you wanted to become pregnant and you wanted the largest cock you could take, Master has granted you this. Why do you fight it so?”

“I am not ready!” She sniffed through her tears realizing she’d done this to herself.

“Since when has anything ever been done on your schedule, you should know by now, everything is on Masters schedule. But do not fret ma’ petite, you will adjust.”

She seemed to set her resolve to accept this since this was of her request to be so, but she still seemed unsure. Her eyes shut again and he began fingering her and pressing into her to stretch her for his invasion, she knew was forthcoming.

“Now, a few rules ma’ petite.” He announced. “First you are to look at me as you are being prepared, it turns me on to see you so vulnerable and I love the fire in your eyes as you know you are being violated.”

She showed no compliance to look his direction.

“Secondly, I am your new Master as of now, so you will comply or be shut out of this place forever!”

Her anger blazed with him as she locked on his gaze. “You are not Master over me!” She seethed.

“I am, see for yourself, Master has signed you over to me as my property to share with him, you will obey ME as your Master.” He happily displayed her contract to her.

She read in disbelief as his başakşehir escort probing became more insistent and her wetness and wantonness grew in spite of herself. She knew Master could alter her contract in this way. He had done her the favor of asking her one time whom she most liked out of all his slaves He’d used her with and she had responded, “The one you call the Boy.” She now understood fully why she was here…now.

“Wipe your tears, ma’ petite, I will not harm you. I wanted you as well. Master has given us to each other! Are you not happy? Do you deny your feelings for me?” His voice has a genuine reflection of concern for her and her gaze softened when she met his eyes.

“I will comply with this because it is Masters wish, I trust you only because you have been kind before to me and since it appears we will be together for a while I assume we need to grow a relationship of sorts but… I remain Masters girl, I will call you Master if He wishes it.”

The boy looked deeply in her eyes and replied, “I wish it of you to be with me, not because of Master, but because I please you as well. Call me Master if you believe it to be. Time will tell as we grow together. You will see I am loving and kind; you may come to cherish that in our time together. For now though, you are sufficiently warmed up and I have a task to perform. I will mate you this way for today and another way tonight as you will be bound differently for sleeping purposes.” He moved to mount her. “Look into my eyes as I enter you.”

She set her gaze at his eyes and felt his hand rubbing her cunt quickly. She began to not be able to control her emotions and began to twist wantonly. Looking into his eyes was very erotic and different than being with Master. The newness of it all let her enjoy the experience more deeply. She noticed how aroused he was to see her looking into his eyes. She felt the tip of him probe her.

As patient as a Doctor, Teacher or Father may have been, he then began to explain what was happening. “You will feel pressure, just breath deeply.” He lifted her buttocks into his palms and guided her wet hole to his heated probing tip. Her body hung in it’s bonds and she glided onto him easily

She felt the pressure and adjusted her breath, as his tip moved further in.

“Now you will feel the head pass your entrance, you may feel very full but just keep breathing as I press into you.” His eyes strained a bit as he felt her heat envelope him.

She saw the caring in his eyes as he filled her and it comforted her to be so insistently instructed. This felt different than the last few times she’d taken him. He was rough before and it hurt! Master liked it that way. She began to realize that this boy was different with her and she liked this. She grew wetter küçükçekmece escort and felt herself open to him.

“Good girl ma’ petite, let me fill you, you are so wonderfully sexy, taking me this way. You feel wonderful. I am almost fully inside you, shall we practice thrusting?” I am to “pound my seed into you” as per Masters orders but he said nothing of preparing you for it or that it had to be all the time, I can teach you to enjoy it if you’ll let me.” His eyes showed genuine concern for her.

She was comforted by his patience and allowed him to fully penetrate her tight hole. She was surprised to hear herself saying “Please show me how you will thrust, you do feel so good, I need to be fucked again.”

“I will thrust this way.” He began a slow movement out and back in, then a bit more, lengthening the thrust each time, rocking her hanging body onto him until he was pounding into her. “Good girl, you are taking me all in, I am so proud of you!”

Hearing him praise her turned her on and her wetness flooded the tight ness of their bodies joining.

“Yes…Take me, take all of me, see how you are being fucked by me, ma’ petite!” His voice was ragged and breathy as he rocked her hips to fuck his length. His hands griped her hips, cupped her bottom and rocked her back to arch and open to him, massaging her onto him as she pleased him further.

She strained to keep her gaze locked on him, she wanted to close them and revel in the upcoming orgasm she felt building. “Oh! Please don’t stop, you feel so good!” She moaned.

But he did stop.

She thrashed and groaned and twisted trying to encourage him to continue but she felt him pulling out and she was helpless to move in her bonds.

“That was only an introduction, I need to build up my seed to impregnate you, I must wait so we don’t disappoint Master, I know this is hard, I am dying too, but Master is watching and my orders were to prepare you only, he will come to inspect us, then we may mate again.” The boy pulled out and fell at her side breathing hard while his raging cock pulsed in need. “Shhhh, ma’ petite, quiet yourself, you will receive me again soon. Master is on his way to inspect us.” He soothingly rubbed her breasts and ran his fingers through her hair.

She calmed only slightly but felt something invading her and it was not the boy. “What is…” Her voice cut off as she restrained an orgasm, knowing Master would not be pleased.

“It is a dildo, of sorts, to keep you open so I wont hurt you needlessly, though it is only half my size, you will still feel the stretch of me filling you later, it is intended to keep you open for use. Relax now if you can. Let this open you up,” he said as he slid the dildo in with little resistance, “and let Master see your need when he comes.” He cradled a comforting arm around her as he released her arms from the wall hook and placed her bound hands around his large slick member, “keep this pumped for me I need to be hard when Master comes.” Her arms ached and her feet and legs were trembling with the strain and lack of blood. She attempted to be calm and waited for Master to show up while she stroked the boy now lying beside her, cradling her.

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“Okay babe, I’m going to class!” David calls through our shared apartment as he slams the door closed.

FINALLY! I look at the clock – 6:19PM. I’ve been waiting for him to head to his evening university class all day, ever since my new package arrived this morning. I indulged myself last week, and I had been DYING for the fruits of my shopping to arrive.

I shoot from the couch to the bedroom and reach under the bed where I had stashed my package. I only had time for a quick glance before, but now I carefully extract each item to lay it gingerly on the bed. A beautiful lingerie set – a silky demi bra followed by an equally silky pair of skimpy panties and a matching garter belt. I run my fingers over the delectable material. Oh, I just can’t wait to have that on my body!

My clothes practically fall off of me, gathering in a heap in the corner, until I am completely naked. First come the panties – I slowly pull them up my legs, savoring the smooth caress as they ascend. I pull them snugly against my pussy and ass and micromanage the straps. Mmm they feel as good as they look! I rub my fingers over the silky material, pressing it into my sensitive parts. Mmm yeeeessss.

I don’t let this distract me too much, moving on to don the demi bra. The soft, silky material embraces my full boobs as I reach back to fasten the clasp. Before I get too distracted I grab the garter belt and fasten it too, before running my hands sensually over my body, paying close attention to the silky covering. The garter belt feels lonely without stockings, so I retrieve some from my naughty drawer and slide them up my legs. I made a point to shower and shave after my package arrived, so my smooth skin welcomes the new meshy layer.

Now is the time to savor the moment. I take my time admiring my body, both with my eyes and my hands. I bounce several times between the bathroom to look in the mirror and the bedroom to splay myself out on the bed, fondling my body vigorously. Thinking about my plans for the next hour makes my back arch and I press firmly onto my wet pussy.

As I begin to get satisfied with this activity, I glance at the clock. 7:05PM?? Did I seriously spend more than a half hour worshiping my own body? I leap out of bed – I still have so much to do before David returns from class!

I dive underneath the bed again and pull out our toy box. Knowing I’m short on time I don’t want to take multiple trips back into the bedroom, so I drag the box into the kitchen, where my plans all take place. With a smirk I eye the horizontal banister separating the kitchen from the entryway hall – technically you could say that my plans take place in two rooms. Digging through the toy box, I get out the things I need: my vibrating dildo, wrist and ankle cuffs, chains and links, and a bright red ball gag.

Unable to resist, I spread my legs and pull my panties to the side to work the dildo into my pussy, which is practically sopping at this point. I moan deeply as it slowly slides in with little resistance. Pulling my panties over the exposed end, I’m tempted to turn on the vibrator, but no. That would be a terrible idea – I still have so much to do! However, I am not so disciplined that I stop myself from grinding against the corner of a chair as I sit down to attach cuffs to my ankles and wrists. The gag I simply hang around my neck so I don’t lose track of it.

Grabbing all the chains we own, I pray they are enough. I measured earlier, and determined it would be close. I hook each chain to the next on the very last links to make one continuous chain as long as possible. Everything attached, I walk the piecemeal length around the kitchen island, looping it through the drawer handles on the far side. Completing my circuit, I grab both ends and stretch them towards the banister. Eyeing the distance for a moment, I don’t learn much. Again, it will be close.

Thinking for a moment, I gently set the chain ends down on the ground and root around David’s “toolbox” (really just a bag with a mishmash of useful things). I triumphantly hold up two bungee cords and carry them back to the kitchen. I hook the bungees to the ends of the chain and then to the banister. Now the chains are suspended pointing straight towards where I want to be!

Pleased with my ingenuity, I walk around the banister into the entryway – sashaying my hips as I remember my sexy outfit. I spread my legs a fair amount and slide my feet through poles of the banister. Wedging them in, I press the banister rail against my groin and bend forward, reaching for the chains. I can reach! There is even a bit of slack – I estimate that I’ll want to clip my wrist cuffs to the second or third link to pleasantly stretch my body. Perfect!

Mmm this is going so well so far! I glance towards the front door and I imagine the moment when David opens it and sees my bound body there, ready for him to take advantage. Ooh, that gives me a naughty idea… I grab a small piece tuzla escort of note paper and begin writing.

“Hey there stud! I’ve been thinking about your hard cock all day… Why don’t you come show me what it can do?” Reviewing my work, I trace over “hard” and “cock” a few times for emphasis. Erase “come” in favor of “cum”. Add a winky face and a heart too.

Satisfied, I find a rubber band and head to the front door. I hesitate when my hand touches the doorknob… Looking down I remind myself that I’m only wearing lingerie and cuffs. I could go put on a robe? A naughty smile comes unbidden to my lips. No. This will just add to the excitement. I unlock the door and crack it open to peek outside. Seeing nothing noteworthy, I open the door just a bit more so that I can attach the note to the outside handle. Eyeing the placement critically, I decide that the note would be nearly impossible to see from a distance, but David would have no choice but to notice it when opening the door. I close it softly, so as not to disturb the note.

With the door closed I lean back against the wall and feel myself flush. It was open for less than ten seconds, but my heart is racing! I take a moment to collect myself, but also remind myself that I’m on the clock.

Returning to the banister, I once again insert my feet in between poles. This time, however, I reach down, bending my waist deliciously over the railing, and use short cuff straps to attach my feet to the rails. I reach forward to grab the chains and wiggle my feet around. Hmm. They are not very secure. I can still move each foot at least six inches in either direction away from its pole…

I straighten, pondering, and look over at the toy box. Another mischievous smile.

I unclip my ankles and, in fact, take the cuffs off completely. From the box I extract two medium lengths of rope. A few steps back towards the banister I drop the rope and about-face. I almost forgot the most important part! I dart back into the bedroom and frantically find the delivery package – there’s one more item inside! I pull it out.

Working the material in my hand, I admire the solid leather hood. Nearly seamless, the hood looks like it will erase my features, from my hair down to the bridge of my nose. The opening will only reveal my nose and, importantly, my mouth, leaving unfettered access. However, with any luck my eyes will be completely erased from my face. I’ve been frustrated for so long with blindfolds that don’t fit right, or that jostle off my eyes in the heat of the moment. This, however, will be so tightly secured to my head that there is no chance in hell that I will be able to see a thing, no matter how rough David is.

Cognizant of the time, I grab a hair tie and bring the two items into the kitchen. I find a small end table to drag towards the banister so that I can reach it from my final position. I place the hood and hair tie on the table. And my phone. Lube, too.

For the third time, I spread my feet just the right amount and place them between banister poles. This time, though, I sit on the floor (Mmm that pushes the dildo in just the right way!) and grab a rope. I wind it around a pole, around my ankle, then around the pole to the other side. I continue this pattern several times, then tug sharply with my foot. Ha! It barely moved at all! Satisfied, I tie off the rope and do the same with my other foot.

I stand up, noticing that there is quite a bit of rope left… Considering my options, I reach forward and grab the chains to test. An experimental undulation of my body reveals that there is still plenty of movement possible from my knees through my hips. Well, since I have rope anyway… I bend sharply over the rail (too bad David isn’t behind me to admire the view!) and can Barely reach the ropes puddled on the ground. I pull them up and wind them around my legs the same way I did with my ankles, only this time just above my knees. The rope pulls my legs slightly further apart – all the better for accessing my pussy!

Finally satisfied with my limited range of motion, I stand up straight and relax for a second, at least as much as one can relax with legs tied to a banister! Grabbing my phone (the table was a great idea!), I check the time. Hmm, still a few minutes before David’s class will get out, and then he has a ten-minute walk… I don’t want to get all the way in position Too soon! To pass time I flip through my collection of sexy selfies – I’ll send one to David to make sure he’s in the mood on the way home. I quickly settle on one where my hands are cuffed and resting on the small of my back as I am bending slightly forward, looking back towards the camera with a surprised expression on my face. The camera angle shows off my naked ass on full display, but my pussy is only teasingly peeking through my legs. Yes, that one’s perfect – it is close enough to what I have planned for him pendik escort that he’ll be thinking about it without revealing too much detail of my … current situation.

Okay his class should be getting out now – less than ten minutes until David gets back. Send! I put my phone back down on the table and grab my hair tie, swiftly pulling my hair into a neat ponytail.

I pick up my hood, shuddering as a wave of anticipation works its way straight down to my pussy, causing it to squeeze the dildo. I tug the strings loose and pull the hood over my head, first making sure my ponytail is pulled completely through the seam in the back. Then I pull the peak of the opening to the bridge of my nose, adjusting it down from there so that the leather descends straight across my cheeks to my jawline, the seam connecting again under my chin. With my fingers I feel a perfect triangular opening in the hood exposing the lower half of my face.

I rub my hands all over my face and head in a smoothing caress, flattening the hood from the bridge of my nose up over my forehead, hair, and ears, all the way back to the seam running from my ponytail to my spine. I start pulling out the slack of the string, tightly towards the top so the material presses firmly over my eyes – I Definitely don’t want to be able to see anything. Halfway down I have to start re-threading the string through the remaining holes it escaped from with the hood loosened.

BLING! My phone alerts me of a received message. I smile and am tempted to undo the hood so I can read what David said in response to my teasing text. But I know I wouldn’t be able to put the hood back on in time – it took long enough to do it once!

I finish pulling string through the last holes and pull so that the base of the hood is snugly but not tightly encircling my neck. Quickly I tie the strings together and take a moment to revel in the hood’s tight embrace. Moving my head around I try to peek out from under the hood, but even using my fingers to pull up the cheeks I can barely even see a sliver!

Forcing myself to move on, I grab the bright red ball gag hanging on my neck and gingerly press it between my teeth. Once secured, I try a few experimental moans and words – that’s when I notice that in addition to my words being almost completely unintelligible, the hood blocks a lot of sound from reaching my ears! Not as much as earplugs … I’ll have to try the hood again another time with earplugs as well for an extra-delicious sensory deprivation experience.

Reaching forward and grabbing the chains again, I realize too late that tying my thighs has pulled my whole body back a bit – now the chain might not be long enough! Hoping with all my will that it will work – I Definitely don’t have time to redo any of this! – I clip my left cuff to the last link of the chain. I’m working on the right cuff when – Wait! I reach back and turn on the vibrator – with some difficulty, since twisting the dial with one hand is not easy. A long moan comes unbidden through my gag and my body slumps (as much as it can slump!) while I revel in my pussy’s vibrations.

I nearly lose myself in the warm glow spreading from my groin all the way through my body, but another “BLING!” from my phone shakes me out of it. David could walk in at any time! I reach forward again, praying that my right cuff will reach the chain… Pressing my hips into the railing and stretching as much as I can I finally clip my cuff to the chain.

Finally ready, I relax to recover from the strenuous setup, but my body barely moves back an inch! It is mostly my head that relaxes, slumping down far enough that I imagine I must be staring at my stuffed pussy, if not for the hood.

With the unexpected minor setbacks delaying me I am sure David will open the door at any moment, but many breaths later I am still suspended alone, my attention being drawn more and more to the wonderful – yet infuriating – vibrations in my pussy. Why had I left it at such a low setting?! I could have had an orgasm or two while I’m waiting, and that would just make me more wet for when David…

I hear a sound! Even lifting my head to be parallel with my body and focusing my ears, it’s hard to tell through the hood what is happening. I hear a click – the door opening? Oh, FUCK, why did I tie myself in view of the open door?! – then I feel more than hear what I am sure is the door closing. Then nothing but some soft taps – he Must be walking close – probably circling my body, examining me from all angles.

A jolt shoots down my body as I feel a finger lightly trace my protruding shoulder blade. The trace continues down slowly, bumping over my silky bra strap and starting to swirl across my lower back down to the top of my garter belt. The path swirls back up and traces the bottom of the bra strap, around my side, and underneath my suspended chest. A shiver accompanies the addition maltepe escort of a second finger as all three break away from the strap and trace their way down my stomach at an angle. The touch slows, then redirects, gliding over and past my garter belt with an obvious destination. My pussy flexes, gripping the persistent vibrations still pulsing inside me, as my panties’ hold on my lower stomach is replaced by two electric barbs weaving back and forth at an agonizing pace, closer and closer to my aching clit…

Bump. The fingers stop abruptly against the banister rail, and after exploring side to side for a moment they withdraw. Fuuuuuuuck that railing why can’t I be suspended on air?? He was soooooooo cloooooose.

I sense more movement, but can hardly hear a thing. Fingers suddenly press onto the top of my ass and pull my panties back and down, lowering them as far as they can go with the front still trapped against the railing. My head arches back involuntarily as the vibrator slides around inside me, no longer held tight by the panties’ embrace. This lasts just a moment before the vibrating, sloppy mess exits my pussy in one smooth motion, leaving me to feel nothing but the slow crawl of my juices sliding down my thighs.

My head lowers to a comfortable resting position as I listen, but nothing comes through but the occasional thud or click. I detect nothing that lets me know definitively what is happening. That is, until I hear a cacophony of rustling and clanking – that Must be him sifting through the toy box. My pussy clamps excitedly – I’m already so decked out I can hardly imagine what else he is looking for! More clanks, but I gather no new information as I feel saliva escape through my lips, presumably joining a sizable puddle on the floor.

As I’m imagining just how much drool must have already escaped by now I realize that the muffled noises have stopped. I strain my ears, but my concentration is interrupted by a surge of feeling, as two entire hands press on my stomach, promptly sliding up and under my demi bra and replacing the fabric’s embrace with a writhing mass of flesh. A deep moan hisses around my gag as my boobs are kneaded and pinched, my bra migrating until it dutifully cups my collarbones.

Just as suddenly as the hands arrived, they are gone. My breasts are left with firm, outstretched nipples, longing for more. Now comes a firm pinch on the left one, causing breath to suck sharply past my gag. This is followed shortly by a persistent tug drawing my nipple towards my imagined drool puddle. No sooner do I understand that I have just been clamped and probably weighted when my right nipple receives the same treatment. The subsequent playful tugs and jostles feel much less playful to my sensitive buds, until finally they are left to suffer alone.

I wonder what to expect next, though the new additions to my chest make it much more difficult to listen intently. To my surprise, the next place I feel activity is my hair – not pulled or even tugged, more like … played with. I feel strands flopping about, barely perceptible through my hood, for what feels like a full minute before it stops. Perplexed, I shake my head slightly and it feels like my hair is now arranged in a different shape…

I am quickly and thoroughly distracted by a wet splash directly on my asshole, immediately followed by a point of pressure. Ooooooh GOD my ass hasn’t been played with for so long, I didn’t realize how much it craved attention! The wetness swirled around and around, producing a series of clenches beyond my control. Finally (it seems), the pressure stops swirling and pushes directly in on my asshole, which, largely thanks to my own encouragement, reluctantly accepts the idea of being penetrated. A pop, and the intruder slides steadily in, only stopping when I feel knuckles on my ass cheek. “Ooooooh Fuuuuuuuck Yeeeeees” is what I try to say, though who knows how it comes out through the gag. The intruder slides in and out and then explores the boundary of my hole, stretching it up, down, and sideways in circular motions. I’m in heaven, completely surrendering to my intruder’s whims.

All too soon he leaves, and I am shocked to feel a new, much colder intruder knocking on my back door. Feeling empty, I encourage my ass to welcome the new participant. The cold object overcomes the resistance and slides into me. My sphincter almost immediately closes around it. A small bulb of some sort? With a thin rod attached? I’m not left wondering what it is for long, as the curvature of the rod forces the inner bulb to press against my insides, and I feel as if I’m being lifted by my freshly hooked asshole.

Still getting used to the hook, I feel my hair being touched again, but this time it’s not just play. My head is pulled from its relaxed position up, up, up, until my nose is pointing directly forward. Some fiddling results in tugs both on my hair and in my ass, and I realize what happened. He attached the ass hook to my hair! I don’t even know how that’s possible! A braid? He lets go of my hair and my head flops down. Or at least it would have, but instead it just jerks a tiny bit forward, transferring a jolt deep into my ass. Ooooooh! I experiment, gently tugging my head this way and that to feel the delicious effect in my rear end.

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Body Count

The chapter isn’t sexy, but it is the next necessary step in the sequence. Again, thank you for reading.

*****

“I mean to split yourself in two is just the most radical thing you can do
Goddess forbid that little Adam should grow so jealous of eve
And in the face of the great farce of the nuclear age
Feminism ain’t about equality, it’s about reprieve.”
-Ani DeFranco

6

By the time Yazmina had slipped back to the van, her empty pizza box was covered in half an inch of snow. She’d parked Hector’s big Ford Transit near the bottom of the long drive way. Once she got the call, as the plan went, she’d drive it up to the front door. It was the guy the others were afraid of, the big white crazy man, whose idea it was to do the job in the middle of a blizzard. Their tracks would get covered, he’d said, and they would be long gone by the time they’d call the Westbrook Pd, so that they could go and untie the girls.

Yazmina had driven them to Victria’s address. It was bad enough then, with what had started coming down. Driving back, she hoped to leave up to one of the guys. Hector, a tall, dark, sweet faced Mexican boy who’d worked and stole his way to New York, would do it. He’d been the dangerous living she’d fallen in love with in the very first place; he having taught her how to steal, and then how to get away with it; most of the time. But, it eventually got too hot for him to stay up north. Ultimately, time passed, most things changed while others stayed the same and there he was again, just a week ago; still handsome, dressed well with pockets full of money; asking around for her among their old Brooklyn haunts.

Yazmina climbed in the driver’s side, tossed the box into the back and closed the door. She sat for a time, shivering though still in her three layers, her hat down over the short, bristly skin of hair she refused to talk to Hector about, her scarf wrapped tightly around her face and her gloved hands tucked between her legs. She waited, unable to shake the cold, the feeling, staring through the windshield, snow plummeting like just so many bags of flour being dumped from the sky.

Suddenly, she felt her phone vibrating in her winter jacket’s front pocket. They were already ready to start loading the stuff? No, not this soon. Maybe they were changing their minds. But, it wasn’t a call. Phantom vibrating, she realized; the latest phenomena to worm into our culture, according to those voices on the public broadcasts she’d gotten really sick of listening to on Geralynne’s radio. I need culture? I need education? Fuck you bitch. I’m done. For real; I’m done. My Hector’s back, so I’m going to get it good for a while.

Yazmina had stolen away, very late one evening, though leaving Geralynne’s wallet and jewelry where they lay. She’d grown quite weary of the woman and her nearly constant summoning; calls, tweets, texts. Wasn’t it true enough though? How many of us were now in a regular habit of waiting for a call even when we weren’t expecting a call? Call histories, post histories, tweets, hits, tags; am I it? Who the Hell is calling me now? What was so God damn important? Why couldn’t we wait? Because who likes waiting? Waiting was being alone, even in a crowd, with her friends in line for a movie, waiting was the reminder of her loneliness. Yazmina touched her phone again, through her gloved fingers. Was it another phantom ring? Maybe I should take them off.

Then she heard it; distant, muffled, a crack, like a hammer on hard wood. What’s that? Seconds passed. Then a thunderous bang, a way bigger hammer. Oh shit! Oh no! Why? Why? They said they were just going to take her high priced stuff, her cards, tie them up, and then call the cops from a track phone they’d destroy and throw out the window on the way back down south. Oh my God, Yazmina thought, I’ll have to go with them now. An adventure; that felt better, less lonely, maybe. It fell silent again, but for the falling static of the snow. Then her stomach roiled. Are they scaring Victria and her precious little Melody; or are they-

Bang, went another muted crack of thunder from inside the house. Oh my God, are they killing them? Yazmina didn’t understand. What could have gone wrong? Victria was a feisty bitch, but three big guys with shot guns? And sure, now, Yazmina had firsthand experience that certainly bolstered her conviction that her former lover, drinking buddy and dome, also had the capacity to be a totally fucking crazy bitch. But still; three big, scary masked, guys with shot guns? What the Hell was happening in there? Going in masked meant you weren’t planning on shooting anyone. It meant scare the Hell out of them and keep them cool while you took all their shit.

Yazmina took out her phone and checked for any missed calls. It hadn’t been a phantom. It had been Geralynne, trying to get her to talk it out. Seriously woman? I’ve had it with psycho chicks! Should she go to the maltepe escort house, maybe peek through a window? Hell no! Maybe Victria gave them trouble. Of course she gave them trouble. Had she paid for it with her life? Did she deserve it? My burns, my scars, my fucking hair; fucking right she deserved something. Yeah but; getting killed? She heard a forth shot, a pause, then a fifth, sixth and a seventh. Yazmina’s eyes went wide. She stared toward the lights of the house as she clumsily tucked her phone back into her jacket pocket. Something had gone very, very wrong. She groped for the door’s handle, found it, and then burst from the Transit.

Leaving the big Ford’s door open, she ran from the van to the road. Frantic and stumbling, Yazmina kept as close to the side of the road as the high snow banks would allow. Icy snow blasted her in the face, attacking her like swarms of crystal needles. On and on she ran; no street light, corner or end in sight because she couldn’t see very much at all. Suddenly, she heard the wet, sticky sound of tires driving through slush. Yazmina stopped, felt for the snow bank that should have been on her left. Finding it, she started to wave. Squinting, she thought she saw the glare of oncoming lights. The car shot past her. Of course; why should they stop for someone just because they were waving franticly? It didn’t matter if there was a blizzard going on, she was a perfect stranger after all, a lone hitcher in a world of potential criminals. Then she heard the big rig coming. A trucker; he’ll pick me up, pick me up and take me away. Still squinting, Yazmina waved, stepping away from the snow bank, the icy snow coming down in great surging swirls. Oh please; you have to stop. You have to stop, please. But, he didn’t stop either. She watched him pass, what she could see of his rig anyway. Behind him came the sound of bouncing scraping on asphalt. The plow truck didn’t stop either. He shouldn’t have been riding that close to the semi’s rear, but he was; and, because he was, and because he was distracted by the sexy money shot his girlfriend had sent him by phone, the snow plow driver didn’t see Yazmina as he scooped her up, tossed her under the semi’s rear wheels, where she got caught between the right wheel and its mud flap, was bat around for half a minute until her body, spine snapped on the second bounce, was thrown into the road and finally slid across into the snow bank on the other side.

Yazmina had one working lung at that point. It hurt, so, so bad, but she could still draw some breath. Moving however, was not happening. Seeing was happening, but only as much as breathing, breathing with one lung, the other punctured by three of her ribs. A sudden jet of blood shot up from her mouth. Yazmina stared up into the white sky as it undulated like a writhing, infinite mass of coiling albino snakes. They were her crimes and her punishments, Victria’s and Geralynne’s having rightfully whipped the mare of her iniquities. Victria had likely died a good death. Melody may or may not had gotten to watch it. Geralynne would not be alone facing her own.

Yazmina’s breaths began to shallow. The plow man would soon be coming from the other side of the road. Maybe he would be paying more attention this time. Her mind wandered through how much time she thought she had left; minutes, hours? One never knew for sure. She recalled the voices on public radio also informing her that scientists had discovered that the brain is conscious three minutes after death, and that twenty-three percent of all dyeing people studied described memories in explicit detail during that three minute span.

There was no one to speak to, yet Yazmina still made an effort to utter some confession or plea for mercy. But, she couldn’t. No words would come. So, she thought and she imagined; the beautiful beaches of Puerto Rico, her mother, her sisters, the lovely church in San Juan, snapshot glimpses of Brooklyn, her in her Catholic school uniform, Victria’s serious eyes and her lovely mouth. Then, Yazmina watched as the white snakes were parted, a circle, the night behind the storm, the white, gleaming razor edged, and feathers of her angel of retribution filling the gap in the storm. It was Victria, her hair down around her shoulders, her face its usual aloof solemnity, dressed in the Virgin Mary’s blue tunic and flowing robes. It was so easy, she thought, to fuck everything up. She began to cry then, her tears melting the snow beneath her eyes as she listened to the bounding scrape of steel against frozen asphalt; getting closer and closer.

7

Never before had Victria rendered images with such brutal focus. Still propelled from the shattering events of two nights before, she was in momentum; alive after the psychological weight of her trauma, the shock, swallowed up in darkness, the sounds of men, flashes of light and touch, lightning strikes of pain as she was moved, and then manavgat escort suddenly awake again in a hospital room. Victria had locked her mind in a sort of linear retrospect. She’d restricted herself from the crime scene in her mind, staying outside the yellow tape, avoiding the peripheral reflection and the perceptual wandering beyond her meditations on Melody.

There is nothing else, Victria mused; no recent past, no distant past; just Melody. She was somewhere else in the hospital, the nurses kept telling her, but no one would take her to see Melody or bring her up. In fact, no one was saying anything, nothing significant, nurses or the lab coated specters that waltzed quickly in and out of her room, perpetuating the mystery of Melody’s whereabouts and having nothing definitive to say about her own condition. She should be with me, thought Victria. She’s mine. I need- I can take care of her. She drew Melody standing in nude profile in the snowy back yard, Melody in portrait; collared, Melody’s bright, soulful eyes staring back at her from behind the chrome finished rods of the dog crate and Melody standing at the top of the stairs; dressed in the folk inspired gown she’d worn those two evenings before.

When she’d asked for drawing materials, all the nurses could give her were a few sheets of printer paper, a few # 2 pencils and a plastic sharpener. She’d created photorealistic drawings, wearing the pencils down to inch long nubs. Her work was so uncannily photographic, she’d had to make sure staff wouldn’t look at them anymore because they just wouldn’t shut up about them. If they wouldn’t bring her to Melody, then all she wanted was to be left alone to draw, to narrow her thought to a thread, guiding it with Melody as the point of her needle; weaving it through a museum of memory, all of the other exhibits closed until further notice.

I don’t understand, she thought. Why can’t anybody tell me how she is? It occurred to Victria to ring for the nurse, but she changed her mind. The flat chested one in the purple polka dot scrubs, with the big butt and the fake smile had told her the pencils were scarce around here since they’d switched to typing everything into a data base. Bull shit. They must have more pencils somewhere. Duh, there’s like multiple floors with nurse’s stations, a gift shop downstairs. I’ll call Pam again. And where the fuck is Vance? It shouldn’t take him this long to get here.

But, it should, she knew, take him this long. Victria hadn’t known about the severe weather warnings and the ultimate blizzard that had barged its way through the state, devastating it while her home was being invaded. She had been informed by her nurses that, during the storm and into its aftermath, they were still plowing through and removing two feet of snow, still clearing what was left of the over thirty-two accidents that occurred on the state’s major highways and still trying to restore power to nearly eighty-six thousand households.

Given the weather, it had taken the police and the paramedics some time to get to the house. As the fire of her pain burned, Victria had held on to Melody -who had been bound by the big Arian to one of the kitchen chairs, her eyes open yet wholly unresponsive- and stroked and kissed her foot until she could no longer resist slipping away into whatever darkness awaited her. She remembered having dreamt of being pulled away from Melody, fighting helplessly, naked, bloodied, people handling her, resisting, and the pain so bad she could only scream her way back into darkness.

Then the sight of a hospital room materialized before her: a single, white walled, beige wanes coated, an empty blue cushioned chair in the corner by the window, the curtain partially drawn around the right side of the bed, the black TV anchored high on the wall across the room, machines, lights, clear plastic hoses and tubes, her legs covered with course white sheets: snow drifts and ripples across the cemetery of her legs and the twin tombstones of her feet. Her second night in the hospital, she willed herself to watch a dressing change; fragmented pink lightening branches of skin sown back shut, patches of chunky red salsa looking flesh, random black stains, little craters in the middle of flower petals of shredded muscle; and that was enough. She’d made it. She’d survived. How many lives, Victria mused, did I have left? I would give them to Melody; give them to her inside our kisses. She could swallow them up, hold them inside her, keep them safe and use them to live to a ripe old age, eighty-nine, ninety-four, maybe even a hundred and two. I want my Melody. Give me back my Melody; please, please give me back my Melody.

There was suddenly a knock upon her door. Before she could say go away, the resident was there at the foot of the bed: a short, thin, Indian man, lab coat over an old blue suit, stethoscope hanging from around his neck, smooth red şişli escort face, warm brown eyes, dimples and a broad white toothy smile.

“Ms. Charpentier,” he said as he reached down to take her chart, “I am Dr. Gupta. How are you feeling?”

“I can’t feel my legs from the knees down,” Victria answered as she tucked her drawings and pencils under her blanket, “Although, I can kind of feel something, I think, in the left.”

“You have some nerve damage,” the doctor replied; glancing up from her chart.

He slowly flipped through its pages, his smile still strong but faded somewhat.

“You have extensive gas and powder burns,” the doctor continued, “You have annular abrasions and bruising. We were able to clean out the soot soiling in your wounds. It was fortunate that you were not clothed because such material would have interposed into your flesh. There was some degree of powder tattooing, which you may be able to eliminate through plastic surgery. You have nine elliptical wounds that are between two and four centimeters in diameter. It appears that the pellets lost velocity as they careened off the floor before entering your legs, which was fortunate because if concentrated-“

“Where’s Melody?”

“I’m sorry?” he said; looking back up at her, “Melody?”

“The woman who was with me in my house when they took me away from it. Where; is Melody?”

“I’m sorry, but I was not aware of another-“

“She’s safe; in another part of the hospital.”

Both the doctor and Victria turned to watch a fairly tall and lanky woman enter the room. She was dark blue eyed, wave black haired and smartly dressed under her worn grey trench coat.

“Ms. Charpentier?” she said; having withdrawn her wallet and flashing a badge and photo ID, “I’m Detective Cassie Powers; Westbrook PD. We can discuss Melody after your doctor is finished.”

“Yes, well,” Gupta continued, “There was some wadding from the shot gun shells that required removal from the depth of your wounds. And, there was significant carboxyhaemoglobin formation, which I believe had lent a great deal in the complication of the damage to your nerves.”

“Will I be able to walk?”

Gupta glanced quickly between Victria and the detective. Powers turned her back and stepped back out of the room. Then, looking at Victria squarely, his smile, warm but small, he said:

“If you continue to have no sensation in three months, we will have to perform a second surgery. We were able to perform vascular reconstruction and it was good that your femurs hadn’t been cracked or shattered by the pellets. However, your nerve ends required suturing to the underlying muscle fascia in order to prevent retraction. At this point, we need to keep you under close observation and, if all continues to go well, we will reevaluate your condition at a later date.”

Gumpta paused. Victria looked down at her shrouded extremities, also taking in the doctor’s hands as they hung the clipboard back onto its hook.

“Your nervous system,” Ms. Charpentier,” Gupta resumed; uttering his words more slowly, “Needs to encourage the endings in your lower legs to communicate with the muscles to which they have been reattached. So, your physical fitness will depend on your mental; fitness. If you have more feeling in three months’ time, you may begin physical therapy.”

Again, Gupta paused. Victria turned away to peer soberly at the cold blue sky beyond her room’s window.

“How is your; pain right now Ms. Charpentier?” Gupta asked softly.

Victria shrugged.

“It’s at a seven I guess,” Victria answered with disinterest, “Maybe eight.”

“I’ll increase the dosage to your pain medication.” Said Gupta, starting to move toward the door.

“No,” Victria intoned; turning to face the man, “Don’t. It’s just; pain. I’m fine. Doctor? Who can I talk to about being moved into a double, so that they can bring Melody up here?”

Gumpta looked suddenly perplexed. He looked toward Powers. Victria hadn’t been aware of her return until then; leaning her left shoulder against the corner of the wall, her sober expression lit in a dim twilight, just out of the window’s reach and the lights shining in the hallway cast against her back.

“I’ll take it from here doctor,” she said while meeting his gaze, “Thank you.”

Gupta nodded, acknowledged Powers with a somewhat lesser smile then the one he’d entered with, and then left the room. The woman detective lingered her gaze at Victria for a few seconds before taking up the doctor’s former position at the foot of the bed.

“What is your friend’s full name, Ms. Charpentier?” she asked.

“Melody Eunice May. How is she?”

“She’s catatonic,” Powers resumed as she reached into her inside coat pocket and withdrew a note pad and a pen, “on-responsive; speechless, motionless, in a total, depressed, stupor.”

Powers inscribed something at the top of the pad’s first page, and then paused, like Mangiafico had paused; waiting her out, gauging her. Had they spoken, Victria wondered as she assessed the woman assessing her. Why would her being a woman make her any different? Depression; Melody could survive depression. Victria looked away, her face darkened, her pain, real but even, her heart aching. Go on Powers, she thought. What else?

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Staci was silent as we continued our journey. There was such a look of worship in her eyes towards me when I finally removed her blindfold; I wondered if she would ever speak to me unbidden again.

“How do you like your new jewelry?” I asked. It would have been stupid to ask her if she was sore.

“They are beautiful. You do not know how much they mean to me, but then again, you probably do.”

“They highlight your natural beauty.”

Staci sat there quietly feeling the discomfort of the piercings, yet at the same time thrilled to her deepest depths. Never had she imagined being with someone strong enough to do such a thing to her. In less than a day, Mark had already satisfied more of her desires than all of her previous lovers. She just hoped her dark desires to be completely dominated and subjugated to pain would not be too much for him.

Delving within her own mind as to what the future might hold for her, the rhythm of the moving vehicle lulled her into a contented sleep. The slightly reclined seat cradled her small form, keeping her from slipping to the floor. The morning sun brought out the golden hues in her hair, which some how seemed to sparkle, matching the sparkle of the rings in her exposed nipples. Soft snores echoed within the vehicle, sounds of an individual who has lapsed into a restful sleep.

He enjoyed the view of her gently rising chest as he drove to their next destination. Some would probably think him weak for letting her sleep, but he knew they were wrong. He wanted her rested and at her very best. How else would she be able to provide him with the very best service possible? Only a fool would fail to properly care for his sub, thereby limiting her ability to be everything for him.

As they pulled into the parking area of their next destination, the unevenness of the driveway was enough to wake her. Raising her arms above her head, she stretched gracefully. Her arching back proudly displayed her full breasts to him and anyone else who might have been looking their way. Shamelessly, she brought her hands down to cup her own breasts. Deliberately, she rotated the rings in her nipples, relishing the sting of the movement in her still very tender flesh.

Shaking his head in amusement, he spoke to her. “Quit playing with yourself and get your clothes buttoned up. We have some shopping to do. Afterwards, we will go to lunch.”

“Yes sir,” she replied with a shy smile.

As we walked down the street, she followed slightly behind me, heeling me as best she could. Unfortunately, the crowdedness of the sidewalk made it almost impossible, but I had to give her credit for trying. People almost seemed surprised to see her small form behind me as my large form knifed through the living sea of people. It has always amazed me how people instinctively seem to get out of my way.

I remembered bringing it up in a psychology class once I had taken several şişli escort years ago. The teacher, an older woman, had looked me straight in the eyes and uttered the word “power” to me.

“You radiate power. People react to the confidence you project without even realizing you are projecting it. Just as they are inclined to accept your suggestions since they instinctively feel you are there to lead them.”

The discussion had gone on for the whole hour as the entire class discussed individuals of history who must have possessed such charisma. While I knew I wasn’t in the league of any of history’s greats, I did start to notice when individuals deferred to me. It amazed me how often people turned to me for suggestions on topics I knew next to nothing about. Many times I was tempted to capitalize on opportunities which were offered to me. However, I like to be able to look at myself in the mirror and not be ashamed of my actions.

Of course, many people would consider the way I had used Staci as a good reason to not be able to look at myself in the mirror, but not me. To me it was as natural as rain falling from the sky or the changing of the seasons. My dominance over her reflected the natural order of nature. After all, the majority of animal species on our planet existed in the same type of hierarchy.

Staci almost ran into my back as I abruptly stopped in front of a simple wooden door recessed in the solid red brick wall. The only thing on the door was the name, “PAMELA’S”. One would have to be informed to have any idea of the wares which the owner offered for sale. As the shop occupied the basement, a flight of stairs going downward was the only thing visible to other passersbys on the street. A second door at the bottom of the steps simply read, “PAMELA’S INTIMATE ITEMS”.

Staci followed me quietly as I pushed the door open. The simple sound of her increased breathing rate made it quite clear she was very excited about where we were at. The whole room was filled with displays of clothing for the sexually minded to wear. In all of my years of shopping, I had never found another shop which offered as large of a selection. If it existed on the market, it was probably here.

“Hello, my name is Jenny,” the sales clerk introduced herself to me. “How may I be of service to you today, sir?” She did not talk to Staci. She could tell immediately as to what our relationship was by the way we had entered the shop.

“My girl is in need of whole new wardrobe befitting her station. I want a wide variety of colors and materials. I expect her apparel to be functional while accenting her natural charms.”

“Yes sir,” the clerk replied.

“Follow Jenny and do as she tells you,’ I commanded Staci. “Make sure you address her properly.”

“Yes sir,” Staci replied this time.

The clerk never asked how much I was willing tuzla escort to spend. You didn’t shop at PAMELA’S if money was a concern. You shopped here for the quality and variety offered.

“Come along girl, we will start in the bra and panty section and move our way up to more sophisticated clothing from there,” commanded the clerk.

“Yes mistress.”

With Staci in the skilled hands of the clerk, I moved across the room to another simple wooden door made of oak. Behind it was where I would do my shopping. There was no name on this door for the items offered behind it might offend some members of the community who might by chance come down to the clothing area.

“My name is Angela,” intoned a young lady as I was greeted by the sales clerk of the second room after I came through the door. “May I be of assistance to you?”

“Yes you may. You may carry my purchases for me.”

“Yes sir.”

For almost two hours she carried my items to the packaging location for me. There was an assortment of cuffs, body harnesses, body binding materials, and chains to start with. Then we moved on to the whip section, adding several different styles to my pile. Various types of nipple and body clamps soon followed. My new inventory grew by a dozen more items in the probe section as I picked through the selection covering a whole wall. Finally, my last item was a simple collar for her to always wear in my presence.

All of my purchases were packaged for me by the time I had picked out the collar. In addition, the clothing picked out by Staci and Jenny was also packaged and ready to go. Signing the sales slip, I handed my keys to the clerk and gave her a description of my vehicle and where I was parked. The store’s sales staff would see to the loading of my purchases while I went and had lunch. They would then bring me my keys at the restaurant. It was a special service they offered to their customers.

“Come along girl, I’m hungry.”

Leaving the store at a brisk pace, we walked the two blocks to the restaurant. A quaint Italian place, it offered private booths and great food.

“A booth in the back,” I informed the hostess.

“This way then sir,” she replied.

The lighting was low with just enough illumination at the table surface to see what you were eating. It was ideal for what I had in mind.

“Your waitress will be with you momentarily,” she continued after seating us.

I had moved to the back of the circular booth to sit with my back against the wall. This way I could see anyone coming towards us. Staci had followed me around the booth seat to sit next to me. Putting my hand on her shoulder, I pushed down on her shoulder and said the word “down” to her.

Silently she did as I commanded, allowing my hand on her shoulder to guide her in the direction I wanted her to travel. Her small size made pendik escort it easy for her to kneel under the table as I directed her into position. Eventually, she caught on to what I wanted of her and quickly knelt between my slightly spread thighs. Deftly, her nimble fingers unzipped me so she could work my rigid staff free of its confinement.

The waitress was walking towards us, but I was certain that Staci’s dark clothing and the low lighting would make it almost impossible to spot her under the table. I was correct when the waitress spoke.

“I thought there were two of you, sir.”

“There are. My date is occupied at the moment and will return momentarily. We will each have the special of the day and the matching recommended wine.”

“Yes sir. Would you like your wine now or with the meal?”

“With the meal.”

“As you wish sir, it should be out in about five minutes or so.”

“That will be fine.”

Staci in the meanwhile had taken the head of my cock into her mouth to suckle on it. Her tongue was swirling around it, providing me with wonderful feelings of pleasure. However, time was not on my side and I wanted immediate physical relief.

Using my right hand, I pushed the back of her head towards my groin. Inch by inch my cock disappeared into her mouth. Even when I felt her gag as the head found the back of her mouth, I kept on pushing right into her throat. I could feel her throat muscles constricting around the head as she worked her throat to swallow my intruding member. Realizing she needed to breathe, and she was still basically unskilled, I allowed her head back up after only about thirty seconds.

Repeating the cycle over and over again, I slowly face fucked her while I waited for the food to come. Luckily, the excitement of the morning’s activities had primed me well. Just as the waitress was coming with our food, I was cumming deep in Staci’s throat.

“Shall I leave your date’s food since she hasn’t come back yet?”

“Yes. She will be back any minute.”

“As you wish sir, I will be back in a few minutes to see if you need anything else.”

Drained for the time being, I allowed Staci to finish draining me as she cleaned my cock thoroughly with her mouth. With the waitress walking away from us, she finished putting my now deflated member back into my pants and zipped me up. Quickly, she moved back into her seat as she readjusted her own clothes. Smiling at me, she licked her lips as she went to work on the second course of her lunch.

“Forgive me for doubting you sir,” the waitress apologized to as she refilled our wine glasses later. “But, I was beginning to have my doubts if anyone was actually with you. Will there be anything else?”

“No, just the check. I am in a hurry to get home. It’s been a long day.” I could see the package deliverer bringing my keys to me even as we spoke.

“I will be right back with it.”

Accepting my keys from the delivery boy, I tipped him generously even though it wasn’t necessary. My day was going exceptionally well, and I knew he would appreciate it, so why not improve his day too. Leaving money for the waitress with the bill, Staci and I made our way back to the vehicle. I was eager to get back home.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
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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

The light misty rain fell softly against my face, my eyelashes. My vision sparkled as old fashioned street light illumination shone through. My feet were cold. I was standing barefoot on the cobblestones, silently absorbing and enjoying the turn of the century atmosphere that was Gastown, Vancouver.

I was cold. I wore nothing under my fancy purple trench coat, save for a thin elastic sequined belt around my waist. It’s snugness only emphasized the freeness, the bareness of the rest of my body.

I heard the car door slam behind me. My husband and Master had parked the car. He had thoughtfully dropped me off so I wouldn’t have to walk so far and possibly damage my feet. His steps echoed off the building walls and cars. I shivered.

I didn’t know exactly what He had planned for me tonight, but the fact that we were outside our home, in public, put a frisson of fearsome anticipation up my spine. His hand settled at the small of my back, guiding me as we walked a half block and turned into a doorway. The simple sign, “No. 5 Orange” looked classy, but it brought an uneasy memory to the surface. Wasn’t this a…the open door showed me that it was.

I drew in a ragged breath. This was a full nudity strip club. It dawned on me why my Master had brought me here. My whole crotch area ached, flexed. My Master guided me skillfully through the tables, mostly full of men. It looked like the place was almost full. My eyes skittered across a sign announcing that it was a men’s only night, a salute to the women’s only nights that were becoming so popular.

My Master whispered into my ear. “I want you to dance for me, my Pet, as you’ve never danced before. You will do it to this music,” I felt a tape pushed into my hand, “And you will give this and my card to that man.” He pointed out man standing close to the sound and special light effects board. I glanced down at the card in my hand. The only thing written on it was a large embossed golden J written in old script. It could have been a calling card.

“Go.” He said, pushing me forward. I had to walk the last ten feet by myself. The club manager noticed me. He looked me over, clearly wondering what I was doing there as I wasn’t one of his regular dancers. His eyes were dismissing me, as if saying now was not good time to have an audition–he had work to do.

Before I lost his attention entirely, I showed him the card. His eyes widened, looking at me. He smiled. erzurum escort My hand shook as I gave him the tape. He turned, issuing swift instructions to his staff.

Within a couple of minutes the music had wound down and the girls occupying the stage were finishing up their dancing, leaving amidst cat calls and whistles. It was obvious J had set this up well in advance to our arrival. I looked back for him but couldn’t see him. Had he sat down at a table? My eyes scanned the room but didn’t find him before the lights dimmed.

“Your turn, Honey.” the club manager said. He pointed to some steps that led up to the stage. “You won’t be needing this.” and with one smooth movement my coat was slipped off. It hadn’t been buttoned or belted shut on my Master’s orders–only my hands in my pockets had kept the coat closed over my body.

I was completely naked, the memory of my Master’s voice whispering “Dance for me.” the only thing that kept me from running away. My fear made me stiff legged as I walked onto the stage. The light was blinding. I couldn’t see anything past the light, no men. But I could feel their eyes on me.

I was not introduced. A sultry tune I’d never heard before began to play over the speakers. “Dance for me.” Suddenly I was free. I would dance for my Master and only my Master. I smiled in relief, in love. My body straightened, swaying to the music as I sashayed down the runway. I would dance. Since I didn’t know where He was seated, I would have to use the entire stage so he could see me properly. Decision made, I let the music take over.

I started with a full body stretch, my hands high over my head, reaching for the ceiling, walking on tiptoe. I did a little spin to release the last of my nervous energy, trailing one hand down my arm, sliding it over my hair, neck and lower, my other hand quickly following.

Images of my Master holding me, running His hands down my body, made my hands follow where His had touched. Down my breasts, stomach, gliding down my hips, dipping between my thighs then back up around my waist, down my ass to the bottom, lifting and spreading my cheeks, exposing my anus.

The music had lost some of it’s melody as a strong drumbeat began to emerge. I automatically danced to the beat, letting it guide my steps, my spins. I liked the way my body flexed, my own movements arousing.

I wanted eskişehir escort to stretch my legs. My glance fell on the pole at the end of the runway. I smiled. While standing, I lifted my left leg so my foot rested on it above my head. My muscles strained and stretched. My body leaned backwards, forcing my legs into an almost vertical split on the bar. I bounced as if I were humping it.

Distantly I could hear the men react as they cheered. I reached forward to hold the bar, torso leaning in, putting the weight on my right foot. A shift of my waist and I was slowly spinning around the pole, gradually lowering myself and my leg to the floor. I felt a hand touch my waist, fumble at it as it folded paper money over my belt. I still couldn’t see faces, but I could see their hands reaching for me. None of them were my Master’s. But then, they wouldn’t be. Putting money in my belt wasn’t His style.

The encroaching hands only went to my waist. I relaxed, remembering the strict no-touch laws strip clubs had to follow. I waited a beat too long. Someone was trying to stroke my back.

I rolled away, moving to the center of the runway on my hands and knees, butt in the air showing open pussy lips. I stopped. I leaned way forward so I could spread my legs into my almost splits, humping the floor, raising my ass high. I was begging my Master to fuck me. This was a similar move I used in our private playtime, a silent invitation to his cock.

I pushed against the floor arching my back painfully, showing my breasts off to the men in front of me. I drew my legs together in front, then opened wide, exposing my now hot and dripping self. I was lost in my mind, in my music, imagining my Master watching me, growing hard as a rock…I wanted Him inside me.

The rest of the dance passed in a blur. Music, fantasy and reality flowing into each other like a dream. I stroked myself almost to a climax, but didn’t let myself slip over the edge, knowing my Master liked to do that for me personally.

Still, when the music stopped with a flourish and I was standing there, gasping for breath, my muscles sweetly aching, I got a thrilling rush upwards from my vagina. I blushed, hoping my Master hadn’t noticed that little slip. I strode off the stage, back straight, pride in every line of my body, the men’s cheers deafening in the silence left by the music.

The gaziantep escort club owner met me at the bottom of the steps, sliding my coat over my shoulders, shielding my body from prying eyes. He guided me backstage past dressing room doors and the occasional stripper. It occurred to me why I hadn’t gone on stage in a costume that I would need to strip off. That would have been something the audience wanted. But since the dance was for my Master, He didn’t need me clothed. I melted inwardly at that thought, hoping He’d been pleased.

Then my Master was there and I was looking into His eyes shining with the light of possession. I was His.

Events moved quickly. His car was brought around to the back by club staff. My Master lifted me off my feet and carried me to the car, not trusting the ground of the back alley to be safe. He settled me in, closed the door. We didn’t speak the whole ride home, but the air between us thrummed with sexual tension.

We barely made it through the front door before He was on me, pulling the coat off, tangling His hand in my hair as He held my head while kissing me. His other hand glided down my body, arrested at my waist. We’d forgotten about the money.

He pushed me away, tracing His hands around the belt. His eyes were somber, thoughtful. He raised His eyes to me, His look fiercely possessive. “You are Mine.” He growled, His tone curling my toes.

He roughly jerked me back to Him, picking up where He’d left off, lifting me by my ass cheeks so I had to wrap my legs around Him. Once His pants were down, He laid me on the back edge of our sofa, a precarious perch that made me cling to Him all the more as He pounded His thick cock into me.

In time with His thrusts, I heard His litany, “Mine. My Pet. Mine.” repeated over and over until we both climaxed, spent, tumbling onto the sofa in a tangle of bodies, the money’s crinkling sound almost louder than our gasps.

I marvelled. My Master had found a way of sharing me with others. The strict no-touch rule allowed Him to show me, His beautiful Pet, off to other men without worrying that things would get out of hand.

I knew He took pride in the way I looked and acted, in the attention I drew from other men, secretly pleased that I was with Him and not some other. However, this was the first time He’d tried to show off my raw sexuality to other men.

It had cost Him. He’d needed to reassure Himself by taking me, reclaiming me. But it showed me how much He’d grown, how much He trusted me to love Him and no other. I smiled, warmed to my core. Of course I would never leave Him. He was my Master and the Love of my life. There could be no one else for me but Him.

I snuggled in, contented, loved and well used by my Master, falling asleep in His arms.

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