One Cock, Two Cock, Red Cock Blue Cock
*with apologies to Dr. Seuss
One cock, Two cock, Red cock, Blue cock,
Black cock, Blue cock, Old cock, New cock.
This one has a little scar
This one lives inside a jar.
Say! What a lot of cocks there are.
Yes. Some are red, and some are blue.
Some are old and some are new.
Some are sad, and some are glad,
And some are very, very bad.
Why are they sad and glad and bad?
I do not know, don't make me mad!
Some are thin, and some are fat.
The fat one I can pat, pat, pat.
From there to here,
From here to there,
Slutty boys are everywhere.
Here are some who like to stroke.
They stroke their cock like it's a joke.
Oh me! Oh my! Oh me! oh my!
What a lot of slutty boys go by.
Some are two inches and some are four.
Some are six inches and some are more.
How often do they get to cum? I can't say.
But I bet they haven't cum in many a day.
We see them twitch, we watch them grow.
Some stroke fast. Some stroke slow.
Some drip, some leak, and some just flow.
Not one of them is like another.
One cock, Two cock, Red cock, Blue cock,
Black cock, Blue cock, Old cock, New cock.
Say! What a lot of cocks there are.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Pearls: A Confession by Lady Danika
Pearls
A Confession
by Solen Piper Villota (aka Danika Stonesoul)
http://danismuse.weebly.com/
Corey settled back into the leather arm chair, his bare legs itching against the cracked and broken leather of the seat and his naked balls stretched and dangled between his legs a moment as he lowered himself onto the cold leather. It had been three days; three very long days. He'd left the heat on at 64 like she'd instructed... he was still nude... and the welts were still on the back of his legs... and he knew he didn't belong on the furniture. He had not left the small dingy apartment, per her instructions, but yet she had not returned and he did not understand. Things seemed suddenly so very bleak.
The sun grew wan in the horizon and sifted through the sheer peach curtains of the studio flat, the rays were flitted with tiny dust motes and fell across his legs in dabbled patterns. He could no longer distinguish the exact hour, but he figured it were sometime after six... and his growling stomach confirmed it. He looked to the sideboard. The food she'd left and carefully instructed him on how to ration was nearly gone. Oatmeal, bread for toast, peanut butter, raisins, some raw brown sugar for sweetener, instant coffee and some teas. He sighed and put his hands to the arms of the chair to lift himself out when he heard the rattle of the key in the door.
"Shit."
The word was out of his mouth before he could retract it.
* * *
She pushed the door open and stood in the entry. She was dressed in her black peacoat. Magnetic, secure, contemplative. She looked around the room briefly and then their eyes met and she arched a brow, surprised to see him sitting on the old arm chair that had once belonged to her father. His eyes fell immediately to the floor and she noticed that his hands were on the arms of the chair, his biceps pulled into an arrested tension of taut muscle as he'd been just about to lift himself off the piece of furniture. She was carrying a newspaper in her left hand, rolled up and a black hand bag in her right and she pointed the paper at him and her red lips fell open.
"Off, now!"
He practically fell out of the chair, scrambling forward onto his knees and landing with a thud onto the green shag carpeting.
She stepped forward, closing the door behind her with a soft click and then slipped out of her coat. Her eyes never left his face and she saw that he could not meet them and instead sat there, Indian-style, looking at the floor until finally it must have struck him that he should change his posture and and he pulled his knees under his body and opened his palms, spreading them out and open on his thighs.
She had not slept well in the last three nights, if the truth were told. She was used to sleeping with Corey.... at least most nights. And usually they curled up after she had pressed her mound into his face, kneading his shoulders like a cat all the while until she had pushed herself to a hard and rowdy orgasm. She was not an overly sentimental woman, but still she would curl up with him afterward and coo in his ear and tell him what a good boy he was, trailing her fingertips along the outer ridge of his ear as he shuddered and begged for his own release... which, to his relief, she often granted -- probably mostly because hearing him cum often brought her up again.
But now he knelt there, his eyes dropped to the floor and his cock shrunken in its cock cage, a clear enough indication of his acknowledgment of her displeasure. She watched him carefully and waited, curious if he would be able to control his speech. She knew he was likely having an inner and redundant dialogue with himself. Something probably along the lines of "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," and she smirked despite her irritation that she'd caught him naked on her favorite chair.
But he didn't speak and she was actually pleased. Instead he knelt quietly on the floor in front of her leather arm chair, his palms crinkled and curled in and upturned on his thighs. She nodded crisply, and pulled off her pea-coat and hung it on the coat rack next to the door. Underneath, she'd been wearing a little black silk number that draped off her body like thickened black ink pulled off a page and around her waist was a thin diamond belt that would have been gaudy except he knew, somehow, it was probably real.
The shabby apartment was a clever ruse... and she seemed to like keeping him in the dark about many things. He wasn't sure what it was she did, but he knew the parties she attended were important. Politics? Theater? The Mob? He didn't question it anymore. He had asked once and she'd slapped him so hard he'd bit his lip and then watched her with abject adoration as she kissed away the drop of blood that her ring had raised on the corner of his mouth.
She moved from the door finally and set her newspaper and her handbag down on the little counter that jutted out from the cabinets. He watched her pull off her gloves with a certain fascination. Those hands... yes those. They were forever the implements of his torment and pleasure. She pressed a forefinger to her teeth, nipped the edge of one black glove and tugged at it until it slipped off in a full sheath, then set it down on the counter next to her handbag. Off with the second glove, this time, tugged gently with the tips of long, manicured fingernails, painted a deep shade of burgundy.
When she was settled, she turned to him. "Now," she said quietly, "Corey. What -am- I going to do with you?"
She watched his neck tense as he swallowed, and knew that the tension would be rising from his belly to his throat like a fishing bobber suddenly released in water and rushing up to the surface and breaking in waves. She thought he might vomit and didn't really want the mess or smell in the apartment so she moved to the sink and turned on the faucet, reaching for a glass to fill with water and bring back to him. "Drink." Her word was a clipped command. There was no room for argument in her tone.
He drank, and she was careful as she tipped the glass not to spill to much at once, and he did not choke or sputter. It was a kindness... a gentle act, and she reached out her naked hand to brush the back of her knuckles against his cheek. "You see, she said, "I have this problem with you sitting in that chair. You knew the furniture was off limits without permission anyway, but that chair in particular presents me with a problem."
He looked up now as she stood over him and she took the glass away. His lips felt dry despite the droplets of moisture that still clung to them from the water he'd just drank. He nodded numbly, unsure if he should speak, but finally managed, "Yes, Mistress."
She sighed and moved around to the sink again and set the half empty glass down on the counter and then brought her hands up from her sides to her temples to smooth her hair back. She had a headache. The dinner had not gone well and what just a few hours before had seemed like only an inopportune work challenge to be met full on with zeal and haste now suddenly felt like a problem of Brobdingnagian proportions...
The truth was, she'd intended to come back from this business trip, find Corey home and waiting and hopefully anxious to see her; and she'd curl up with him on the couch and watch The Hobbit for the... what, fourth, maybe fifth time? Then they'd talk, take a bath, and she'd let him massage her legs. They'd have sex and fall asleep, and hopefully she'd wake with a fresh outlook so that she could resolve the issue... and instead she'd found him in her father's chair.
Her brow furrowed. "My pearls. On the nightstand. Go get them."
"Your pearls?" he asked.
"It's Just a strand of pearls."
It was just a strand of pearls or so she told him... but he knew there was more to it than that as she stood there and gave him -that- look... yes that one... the one through the corner of her exotic slanted gray green eyes. "Just a strand of pearls," she said.
He swallowed thickly and felt his Adam's apple roll against the flesh of his throat as she tugged his head back to kiss his neck and the skin pulled taut. She could be Promethean when she wanted to be and he knew this. "Just a strand of pearls, Mistress?"
She nodded.
He stood then from where he knelt, moved lithely up from the carpet to go to her nightstand. The pearls were there, laid out, luminescent and slightly pink, folded against each other... each like a tiny hungry mouth on the strand. He lifted them and the strand was longer than he expected and it sifted against his rough calloused palms like silk as he brought them back to her.
She sat on the edge of the chair now, the chair he was not supposed to sit in... and she took them and held them out and motioned for him to turn around, circling her small right hand in the air like a tiny white bird and he did not dare to hesitate... for that would mean her further displeasure. "Spread your legs and give me your hands."
He did so.
He did not struggle... even as he felt her use the pearls to wrap his wrists in a make-shift binding. But when she reached between his legs to take a hold of his testicles he flinched. "Hold still and lean back." His hesitation earned him a sharp slap to the ass and she hissed through her teeth before he complied and she wrapped the other end of the pearls around his ball sack and turned him around, tied hand to balls, as it were. When he faced her he was hard as rock and his face was flushed red with the heat of embarrassment.
"If you break my strand of pearls... you won't be allowed to cum for a month," she said simply. And he believed her. With that, she leaned forward and pressed her warm lips to his abdomen, planting kisses along the trail of hair that led ever lower, a grin playing across her lips as he groaned and struggled to stay still with the fine pearls hanging in the balance as her small mouth came nearer its target.
She licked around the ridge of his head through his cage, letting the cold metal tickle her tongue and nearly instantly he was at attention, his cock straining and the metal biting into the engorged member. "Well that didn't take long..." she said softly. And she pressed her mouth to ball sac, kissing and nipping while he groaned and struggled to stay standing straight. She smiled against the silken skin when she heard his sharp intake of breath as her tongue lapped around the pearls.
"Mistress please..."
She could feel him tense. Saw his muscles straining. He was tiring, working to stand upright and lean slightly back, to stay still, to not jerk forward. And she looked up. His eyes were shut tight, crinkled at the corners and his lips were white at the edge. He rasped again. "Mistress, Please... I'm trying..."
She shook her head and licked around the cage again letting her tongue dart around the metal to touch the throbbing silk of skin that now pulsed through the grates. He groaned and shifted his weight just slightly, but held his ground. "Don't!" Just when she thought he would break the pearls he stopped, flexed his biceps slightly and exhaled, moaning. "Please... Mistress..."
She sat back, reached up between his legs and unwound the strand. He was panting softly but she didn't plan to let him cum. Instead she sat back in the chair and spread her legs. She wasn't wearing panties beneath the little black dress and when he knelt down again, he was able to glimpse the glistening silk of her folds. He swallowed hard and watched her face, waiting. She nodded and he moved forward, burying his nose in that soft bed, moaning and lapping and pressing his tongue out in thanks.
A Confession
by Solen Piper Villota (aka Danika Stonesoul)
http://danismuse.weebly.com/
Corey settled back into the leather arm chair, his bare legs itching against the cracked and broken leather of the seat and his naked balls stretched and dangled between his legs a moment as he lowered himself onto the cold leather. It had been three days; three very long days. He'd left the heat on at 64 like she'd instructed... he was still nude... and the welts were still on the back of his legs... and he knew he didn't belong on the furniture. He had not left the small dingy apartment, per her instructions, but yet she had not returned and he did not understand. Things seemed suddenly so very bleak.
The sun grew wan in the horizon and sifted through the sheer peach curtains of the studio flat, the rays were flitted with tiny dust motes and fell across his legs in dabbled patterns. He could no longer distinguish the exact hour, but he figured it were sometime after six... and his growling stomach confirmed it. He looked to the sideboard. The food she'd left and carefully instructed him on how to ration was nearly gone. Oatmeal, bread for toast, peanut butter, raisins, some raw brown sugar for sweetener, instant coffee and some teas. He sighed and put his hands to the arms of the chair to lift himself out when he heard the rattle of the key in the door.
"Shit."
The word was out of his mouth before he could retract it.
* * *
She pushed the door open and stood in the entry. She was dressed in her black peacoat. Magnetic, secure, contemplative. She looked around the room briefly and then their eyes met and she arched a brow, surprised to see him sitting on the old arm chair that had once belonged to her father. His eyes fell immediately to the floor and she noticed that his hands were on the arms of the chair, his biceps pulled into an arrested tension of taut muscle as he'd been just about to lift himself off the piece of furniture. She was carrying a newspaper in her left hand, rolled up and a black hand bag in her right and she pointed the paper at him and her red lips fell open.
"Off, now!"
He practically fell out of the chair, scrambling forward onto his knees and landing with a thud onto the green shag carpeting.
She stepped forward, closing the door behind her with a soft click and then slipped out of her coat. Her eyes never left his face and she saw that he could not meet them and instead sat there, Indian-style, looking at the floor until finally it must have struck him that he should change his posture and and he pulled his knees under his body and opened his palms, spreading them out and open on his thighs.
She had not slept well in the last three nights, if the truth were told. She was used to sleeping with Corey.... at least most nights. And usually they curled up after she had pressed her mound into his face, kneading his shoulders like a cat all the while until she had pushed herself to a hard and rowdy orgasm. She was not an overly sentimental woman, but still she would curl up with him afterward and coo in his ear and tell him what a good boy he was, trailing her fingertips along the outer ridge of his ear as he shuddered and begged for his own release... which, to his relief, she often granted -- probably mostly because hearing him cum often brought her up again.
But now he knelt there, his eyes dropped to the floor and his cock shrunken in its cock cage, a clear enough indication of his acknowledgment of her displeasure. She watched him carefully and waited, curious if he would be able to control his speech. She knew he was likely having an inner and redundant dialogue with himself. Something probably along the lines of "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," and she smirked despite her irritation that she'd caught him naked on her favorite chair.
But he didn't speak and she was actually pleased. Instead he knelt quietly on the floor in front of her leather arm chair, his palms crinkled and curled in and upturned on his thighs. She nodded crisply, and pulled off her pea-coat and hung it on the coat rack next to the door. Underneath, she'd been wearing a little black silk number that draped off her body like thickened black ink pulled off a page and around her waist was a thin diamond belt that would have been gaudy except he knew, somehow, it was probably real.
The shabby apartment was a clever ruse... and she seemed to like keeping him in the dark about many things. He wasn't sure what it was she did, but he knew the parties she attended were important. Politics? Theater? The Mob? He didn't question it anymore. He had asked once and she'd slapped him so hard he'd bit his lip and then watched her with abject adoration as she kissed away the drop of blood that her ring had raised on the corner of his mouth.
She moved from the door finally and set her newspaper and her handbag down on the little counter that jutted out from the cabinets. He watched her pull off her gloves with a certain fascination. Those hands... yes those. They were forever the implements of his torment and pleasure. She pressed a forefinger to her teeth, nipped the edge of one black glove and tugged at it until it slipped off in a full sheath, then set it down on the counter next to her handbag. Off with the second glove, this time, tugged gently with the tips of long, manicured fingernails, painted a deep shade of burgundy.
When she was settled, she turned to him. "Now," she said quietly, "Corey. What -am- I going to do with you?"
She watched his neck tense as he swallowed, and knew that the tension would be rising from his belly to his throat like a fishing bobber suddenly released in water and rushing up to the surface and breaking in waves. She thought he might vomit and didn't really want the mess or smell in the apartment so she moved to the sink and turned on the faucet, reaching for a glass to fill with water and bring back to him. "Drink." Her word was a clipped command. There was no room for argument in her tone.
He drank, and she was careful as she tipped the glass not to spill to much at once, and he did not choke or sputter. It was a kindness... a gentle act, and she reached out her naked hand to brush the back of her knuckles against his cheek. "You see, she said, "I have this problem with you sitting in that chair. You knew the furniture was off limits without permission anyway, but that chair in particular presents me with a problem."
He looked up now as she stood over him and she took the glass away. His lips felt dry despite the droplets of moisture that still clung to them from the water he'd just drank. He nodded numbly, unsure if he should speak, but finally managed, "Yes, Mistress."
She sighed and moved around to the sink again and set the half empty glass down on the counter and then brought her hands up from her sides to her temples to smooth her hair back. She had a headache. The dinner had not gone well and what just a few hours before had seemed like only an inopportune work challenge to be met full on with zeal and haste now suddenly felt like a problem of Brobdingnagian proportions...
The truth was, she'd intended to come back from this business trip, find Corey home and waiting and hopefully anxious to see her; and she'd curl up with him on the couch and watch The Hobbit for the... what, fourth, maybe fifth time? Then they'd talk, take a bath, and she'd let him massage her legs. They'd have sex and fall asleep, and hopefully she'd wake with a fresh outlook so that she could resolve the issue... and instead she'd found him in her father's chair.
Her brow furrowed. "My pearls. On the nightstand. Go get them."
"Your pearls?" he asked.
"It's Just a strand of pearls."
It was just a strand of pearls or so she told him... but he knew there was more to it than that as she stood there and gave him -that- look... yes that one... the one through the corner of her exotic slanted gray green eyes. "Just a strand of pearls," she said.
He swallowed thickly and felt his Adam's apple roll against the flesh of his throat as she tugged his head back to kiss his neck and the skin pulled taut. She could be Promethean when she wanted to be and he knew this. "Just a strand of pearls, Mistress?"
She nodded.
He stood then from where he knelt, moved lithely up from the carpet to go to her nightstand. The pearls were there, laid out, luminescent and slightly pink, folded against each other... each like a tiny hungry mouth on the strand. He lifted them and the strand was longer than he expected and it sifted against his rough calloused palms like silk as he brought them back to her.
She sat on the edge of the chair now, the chair he was not supposed to sit in... and she took them and held them out and motioned for him to turn around, circling her small right hand in the air like a tiny white bird and he did not dare to hesitate... for that would mean her further displeasure. "Spread your legs and give me your hands."
He did so.
He did not struggle... even as he felt her use the pearls to wrap his wrists in a make-shift binding. But when she reached between his legs to take a hold of his testicles he flinched. "Hold still and lean back." His hesitation earned him a sharp slap to the ass and she hissed through her teeth before he complied and she wrapped the other end of the pearls around his ball sack and turned him around, tied hand to balls, as it were. When he faced her he was hard as rock and his face was flushed red with the heat of embarrassment.
"If you break my strand of pearls... you won't be allowed to cum for a month," she said simply. And he believed her. With that, she leaned forward and pressed her warm lips to his abdomen, planting kisses along the trail of hair that led ever lower, a grin playing across her lips as he groaned and struggled to stay still with the fine pearls hanging in the balance as her small mouth came nearer its target.
She licked around the ridge of his head through his cage, letting the cold metal tickle her tongue and nearly instantly he was at attention, his cock straining and the metal biting into the engorged member. "Well that didn't take long..." she said softly. And she pressed her mouth to ball sac, kissing and nipping while he groaned and struggled to stay standing straight. She smiled against the silken skin when she heard his sharp intake of breath as her tongue lapped around the pearls.
"Mistress please..."
She could feel him tense. Saw his muscles straining. He was tiring, working to stand upright and lean slightly back, to stay still, to not jerk forward. And she looked up. His eyes were shut tight, crinkled at the corners and his lips were white at the edge. He rasped again. "Mistress, Please... I'm trying..."
She shook her head and licked around the cage again letting her tongue dart around the metal to touch the throbbing silk of skin that now pulsed through the grates. He groaned and shifted his weight just slightly, but held his ground. "Don't!" Just when she thought he would break the pearls he stopped, flexed his biceps slightly and exhaled, moaning. "Please... Mistress..."
She sat back, reached up between his legs and unwound the strand. He was panting softly but she didn't plan to let him cum. Instead she sat back in the chair and spread her legs. She wasn't wearing panties beneath the little black dress and when he knelt down again, he was able to glimpse the glistening silk of her folds. He swallowed hard and watched her face, waiting. She nodded and he moved forward, burying his nose in that soft bed, moaning and lapping and pressing his tongue out in thanks.
The Assistant Part 1x - Field Training by Lady Crissy
[Note: The last we saw Miss Night and aaron, Miss Night has ordered reservations for her favorite lunch spot with the intention of enjoying some public play....]
I finished the rest of the morning's work and shut down the computer. Slipping my heels back on, I stood and left my office. I gathered aaron along the way, walking in a pace that I knew would challenge him in his new "uniform". Admirably he kept up with only a couple of stumbles that I pretended not to notice.
Out in front of the building it was easy to hail a cab quickly. In this part of town, no one bothered to try to move their vehicle once parked for the day. When the cab stopped I slipped in with aaron following suit. I gave the destination to the cab driver and we pulled off to join traffic. My hand moved to rest on aaron's knee, out of the view of the driver. I could hear him gently swallow and go very still.
I slid my hand up his thigh, squeezing it and sliding it further up and under his skirt. I let my fingertips and nails brush gently against his skin and watched him fidget in his seat, trying hard to keep his eyes forward. I dug my nails then into his thigh as I chatted cheerily about the traffic and weather with the cabbie, ignoring the quiet gasp that followed from my toy.
When the cab stopped, I stepped out, paying and tipping the driver, then walked up the short walkway. I heard aaron scramble out of the car and up the walk behind me, and turned to see him pulling at his skirt. The host greeted us at the entrance and nodded, smiling. It pays to be a regular....And to tip well. The host led us to the back, to a wonderful little patio area. The doors out to the area were tinted and there was a stone half wall that gave a little privacy. I loved this spot, and smiled to myself at some of the entertaining lunches I had had here.
A cheerful smile greeted us as Monica stood and walked over for a hug. The weather was beautiful, and as always she was stunning in a white linen skirt suit, pale blue shirt under it. We exchanged greetings and then moved to sit as the host pulled out each of our chairs in turn and presented us with the menus. aaron was surprised into silence, in no way expecting to see his mentor, but recovered and greeted her respectfully. We ordered drinks to start, and with a quick smile and nod the host departed, giving us time to catch up.
We both paused and looked over at aaron as he pulled out a chair and began to sit down. Our cold looks stopped him in his tracks and he stood again, pushing in the chair. His eyes darted from one of to the other, not sure what to do. I snapped my fingers to wake him up and get his focus. "Just to be clear, aaron, I would have you kneel here as well. But...you probably didn't pack any extra stockings and I can't have you leaving here looking like a $5 whore that just gave a blow job in the alley."
aaron's face and neck flushed bright red as I continued, "Not that you probably wouldn't enjoy that...." I narrowed my eyes at him as I spoke. "You will stand behind and to the side of my chair until told otherwise." I motioned him to the spot, and I watched the boy move quickly to it. Monica and I picked up our conversation and caught up on discussing work, our mutual friends and our plans for the rest of the Summer.
When the waiter came to take our order, I smiled and it was returned in kind. Christopher was my favorite waiter for very good reasons, and if he was working, the host knew to send him. I knew today was one of his days to work. This was no chance meeting. Christopher was bright, discreet and aimed to please - quite lovely. Monica and I both ordered light lunches and watched him nod and smile at aaron when we were done.
"Christopher, this is aaron. He will take some water for now, and I will order for him something for take out when we leave."
"Very good, Miss Night, " Christopher responded with a smile. The pretty light red glossy lip shine that he wore just made him even more attractive.
The waiter left to put in or orders and I smiled. I was looking at Monica but spoke over my shoulder, " So aaron? What do you think about our waiter? Cute, right?" Monica chuckled and sipped her daquiri - on the rocks of course. No frozen froofy drinks for her.
aaron stammered his answer, "I don't know what you mean, Miss Night,"
"Do you speak English, boy?" I sighed.
"Yes Miss Night," aaron replied quickly, finally understanding. "He's ok I guess MIss." I could almost hear him shrug.
I smiled and sipped my drink, going back to chat with Monica until Christopher came back with our food. I addressed him by name. "Christopher?"
"Yes, Miss Night?" he responded, placing the last of the lunch order on the table, his presentation smooth and graceful, his nails with the very subtle French manicure expertly setting the table.
"What do you think about aaron back there?' I asked and tipped my head back in aaron's direction. I turned in my chair to look as well on the transformed boy standing in back of me.
We watched Christopher look aaron over, taking his time assessing as aaron squirmed and he tried to look anywhere else. "Not a bad start, Miss Night," he stated with a smile.
I stood and walked behind aaron, putting my hands on his shoulders, squeezing. I slid my palms down his arms and then let them rest on his hips. I slid my hands over his ass next, squeezing it tight, feeling him shudder. I chuckled and kissed his neck and biting it firmly, hearing him moan lightly. I let go of his ass and slid my hands slowly over the front of him, over his pelvis, pressing fingers against the skirt and the girdle underneath firmly. My fingers pressed in to outline his cock beneath, feeling him hard and wanting under my touch. I pressed my body firmly to his back as I spoke, my lips very close to his ear. Monica and Christopher looked on with knowing smiles.
"aaron is on chastity, you see. So he is very..... motivated to learn. Aren't you, slut?" I said, brushing my lips against his ear. I continued without waiting for him to respond. "I did say that it takes a lot to please me, aaron. Fortunately for you, Christopher here knows exactly what I like and can help your sorry case." I continued to tease aaron's cockhead with fingertips that mercilessly pressed and rubbed his frustrated hard-on. I could feel him struggling not to tilt his hips toward the touch and felt him begin to twitch under my fingers. "How fortunate for you, slut."
Looking over aaron's shoulder, I raised an eyebrow at Monica and watched her nod in agreement. I moved my hands away abruptly and walked back to sit down at the table with a smirk "Call me tomorrow, Christopher. I think this project needs your touch." I picked up my drink and took a sip of the gin and tonic.
"I would be my pleasure, Miss Night." he replied with a smile and nod, leaving us Ladies to our lunch and leaving aaron in a very shaken and worried state.
I love a good Cobb salad.... As well as the smell of fear. Delicious.
End of Part IX
I finished the rest of the morning's work and shut down the computer. Slipping my heels back on, I stood and left my office. I gathered aaron along the way, walking in a pace that I knew would challenge him in his new "uniform". Admirably he kept up with only a couple of stumbles that I pretended not to notice.
Out in front of the building it was easy to hail a cab quickly. In this part of town, no one bothered to try to move their vehicle once parked for the day. When the cab stopped I slipped in with aaron following suit. I gave the destination to the cab driver and we pulled off to join traffic. My hand moved to rest on aaron's knee, out of the view of the driver. I could hear him gently swallow and go very still.
I slid my hand up his thigh, squeezing it and sliding it further up and under his skirt. I let my fingertips and nails brush gently against his skin and watched him fidget in his seat, trying hard to keep his eyes forward. I dug my nails then into his thigh as I chatted cheerily about the traffic and weather with the cabbie, ignoring the quiet gasp that followed from my toy.
When the cab stopped, I stepped out, paying and tipping the driver, then walked up the short walkway. I heard aaron scramble out of the car and up the walk behind me, and turned to see him pulling at his skirt. The host greeted us at the entrance and nodded, smiling. It pays to be a regular....And to tip well. The host led us to the back, to a wonderful little patio area. The doors out to the area were tinted and there was a stone half wall that gave a little privacy. I loved this spot, and smiled to myself at some of the entertaining lunches I had had here.
A cheerful smile greeted us as Monica stood and walked over for a hug. The weather was beautiful, and as always she was stunning in a white linen skirt suit, pale blue shirt under it. We exchanged greetings and then moved to sit as the host pulled out each of our chairs in turn and presented us with the menus. aaron was surprised into silence, in no way expecting to see his mentor, but recovered and greeted her respectfully. We ordered drinks to start, and with a quick smile and nod the host departed, giving us time to catch up.
We both paused and looked over at aaron as he pulled out a chair and began to sit down. Our cold looks stopped him in his tracks and he stood again, pushing in the chair. His eyes darted from one of to the other, not sure what to do. I snapped my fingers to wake him up and get his focus. "Just to be clear, aaron, I would have you kneel here as well. But...you probably didn't pack any extra stockings and I can't have you leaving here looking like a $5 whore that just gave a blow job in the alley."
aaron's face and neck flushed bright red as I continued, "Not that you probably wouldn't enjoy that...." I narrowed my eyes at him as I spoke. "You will stand behind and to the side of my chair until told otherwise." I motioned him to the spot, and I watched the boy move quickly to it. Monica and I picked up our conversation and caught up on discussing work, our mutual friends and our plans for the rest of the Summer.
When the waiter came to take our order, I smiled and it was returned in kind. Christopher was my favorite waiter for very good reasons, and if he was working, the host knew to send him. I knew today was one of his days to work. This was no chance meeting. Christopher was bright, discreet and aimed to please - quite lovely. Monica and I both ordered light lunches and watched him nod and smile at aaron when we were done.
"Christopher, this is aaron. He will take some water for now, and I will order for him something for take out when we leave."
"Very good, Miss Night, " Christopher responded with a smile. The pretty light red glossy lip shine that he wore just made him even more attractive.
The waiter left to put in or orders and I smiled. I was looking at Monica but spoke over my shoulder, " So aaron? What do you think about our waiter? Cute, right?" Monica chuckled and sipped her daquiri - on the rocks of course. No frozen froofy drinks for her.
aaron stammered his answer, "I don't know what you mean, Miss Night,"
"Do you speak English, boy?" I sighed.
"Yes Miss Night," aaron replied quickly, finally understanding. "He's ok I guess MIss." I could almost hear him shrug.
I smiled and sipped my drink, going back to chat with Monica until Christopher came back with our food. I addressed him by name. "Christopher?"
"Yes, Miss Night?" he responded, placing the last of the lunch order on the table, his presentation smooth and graceful, his nails with the very subtle French manicure expertly setting the table.
"What do you think about aaron back there?' I asked and tipped my head back in aaron's direction. I turned in my chair to look as well on the transformed boy standing in back of me.
We watched Christopher look aaron over, taking his time assessing as aaron squirmed and he tried to look anywhere else. "Not a bad start, Miss Night," he stated with a smile.
I stood and walked behind aaron, putting my hands on his shoulders, squeezing. I slid my palms down his arms and then let them rest on his hips. I slid my hands over his ass next, squeezing it tight, feeling him shudder. I chuckled and kissed his neck and biting it firmly, hearing him moan lightly. I let go of his ass and slid my hands slowly over the front of him, over his pelvis, pressing fingers against the skirt and the girdle underneath firmly. My fingers pressed in to outline his cock beneath, feeling him hard and wanting under my touch. I pressed my body firmly to his back as I spoke, my lips very close to his ear. Monica and Christopher looked on with knowing smiles.
"aaron is on chastity, you see. So he is very..... motivated to learn. Aren't you, slut?" I said, brushing my lips against his ear. I continued without waiting for him to respond. "I did say that it takes a lot to please me, aaron. Fortunately for you, Christopher here knows exactly what I like and can help your sorry case." I continued to tease aaron's cockhead with fingertips that mercilessly pressed and rubbed his frustrated hard-on. I could feel him struggling not to tilt his hips toward the touch and felt him begin to twitch under my fingers. "How fortunate for you, slut."
Looking over aaron's shoulder, I raised an eyebrow at Monica and watched her nod in agreement. I moved my hands away abruptly and walked back to sit down at the table with a smirk "Call me tomorrow, Christopher. I think this project needs your touch." I picked up my drink and took a sip of the gin and tonic.
"I would be my pleasure, Miss Night." he replied with a smile and nod, leaving us Ladies to our lunch and leaving aaron in a very shaken and worried state.
I love a good Cobb salad.... As well as the smell of fear. Delicious.
End of Part IX
If It Pleases You by Sillien
"My God, just thinking about that cock makes me dripping wet." The words hung in the air for a moment and Matt began to stiffen. She smacked his balls with the back of her hand. He doubled over and yelped between gritted teeth and she just shook her head with a scowl. “Jesus, not THAT cock, boy. You know damn well I was talking about Rory."
The pain traveled up into his stomach and he fell to his knees. "Of course you were, mistress. Please forgive me for thinking for a moment about..." He let his words trail off, hoping she would fill in the rest do he wouldn't have to. She would have none of it.
"About what, slut? Finish that sentence. And finish it in detail."
Matt nodded. “About having...sex with you, Mistress. About my cock slipping inside of you. Sliding in and out. Feeling your warmth all around me, that wetness just welcoming me in. That is what I could not help myself from thinking, mistress. Please accept my apologies,” he said as he bowed his head.
The room was silent for a long moment. Then she burst into laughter, each cackle driving a stake into his heart. He bit his lip and closed his eyes. She composed herself after a minute of that.
“Slut, do you have any idea why that sounds so ridiculous to me? Hm?”
“Because my cock is so small and pathetic, Mistress. Useless to you.”
SMACK
“No!” she yelled into his ear as her palm struck his cheek. “That has nothing to do with it! How can you men be so dense?” She rolled her eyes and spoke slowly. “It’s not your size that’s laughably pathetic, slut. Tell me something, if you could have me with my legs spread wide for you, do you think you could do it? Do you think you could fuck me? Could you dig your fingers into my hips, holding onto them for dear life? Could you slam your pelvis into my asscheeks, pumping as if there was a poison inside of you that could be your death if you didn’t get it out? Would the bed creak and moan with us from the force of it all?”
It took him a moment to admit “No.”
“No,” she repeated for him. “No, you would ‘slip’ into me. You would ‘slide’ in and out of my pussy.” She shook her head. “Your size is just fine, slave. You just haven’t a clue how to use it. And in all honesty? That’s exactly how I want you.”
Matt’s eyes looked up at her. “Mistress…I want to make you wet, too. I want you to think about MY cock, too.”
Before his mind had registered what happened her hand darted down to his genitals and clenched them together, tight. Tugging and twisting brutally.
“I DO think about them, bitch!” She let go and started swatting at his little head, tiny dribbles of precum spraying around like spittle. “You stupid little slut, you have no IDEA how wet your cock gets me! Maybe not the way you think it should though, hm?”
“Please stop, mistress, please, it hurts…” Oh, that begging was like a symphony to her.
She paused and sat back in her chair, holding her finger to her chin as she thought about something. “I want you to make a choice.” And with that she stood up and walked over to the bed. The clothes came off and she propped herself up on her knees, doggy style, her ass facing him. “I want to choose what you think you should do with this pussy. Do you really want to fuck it? Is that what you think you should do? Then go ahead, be my guest. Or…” she paused for effect,”perhaps you can think of something else. What’s your choice, Matthew? Come along now, the clock’s ticking.”
He couldn’t help but stare right at her. Oh, it looked so moist to him, glistening from the abuse she just heaped upon his poor cock, suddenly rock-hard again. He inched closer to her. Closer that pussy that he knew was so hungry. That needed to be satisified. And...and...and she had just told him, point-blank, that he could not do that with the meat between his legs. It had been so long since he had sex. So long. It was his for the taking now. His hands reached out. They grabbed her hips. And then they moved down to her thighs. He chose to slide his tongue up and down her pussy lips, knowing full well that he could please her with that. She smiled and moaned, pushing her rear into his face. Covering it with her juices.
She pulled him close when it was all done. “Stick out your tongue.” He raised an eyebrow and did as he was told. She grabbed it between her thumb and index finger gently. “This is what you have that can please me, pet. Not that,” she glanced down between his legs, “but this,” she said as she wiggled his tongue and smiled.
He smiled back. “I’m happy to serve, Mistress.”
“I know.”
The end
The pain traveled up into his stomach and he fell to his knees. "Of course you were, mistress. Please forgive me for thinking for a moment about..." He let his words trail off, hoping she would fill in the rest do he wouldn't have to. She would have none of it.
"About what, slut? Finish that sentence. And finish it in detail."
Matt nodded. “About having...sex with you, Mistress. About my cock slipping inside of you. Sliding in and out. Feeling your warmth all around me, that wetness just welcoming me in. That is what I could not help myself from thinking, mistress. Please accept my apologies,” he said as he bowed his head.
The room was silent for a long moment. Then she burst into laughter, each cackle driving a stake into his heart. He bit his lip and closed his eyes. She composed herself after a minute of that.
“Slut, do you have any idea why that sounds so ridiculous to me? Hm?”
“Because my cock is so small and pathetic, Mistress. Useless to you.”
SMACK
“No!” she yelled into his ear as her palm struck his cheek. “That has nothing to do with it! How can you men be so dense?” She rolled her eyes and spoke slowly. “It’s not your size that’s laughably pathetic, slut. Tell me something, if you could have me with my legs spread wide for you, do you think you could do it? Do you think you could fuck me? Could you dig your fingers into my hips, holding onto them for dear life? Could you slam your pelvis into my asscheeks, pumping as if there was a poison inside of you that could be your death if you didn’t get it out? Would the bed creak and moan with us from the force of it all?”
It took him a moment to admit “No.”
“No,” she repeated for him. “No, you would ‘slip’ into me. You would ‘slide’ in and out of my pussy.” She shook her head. “Your size is just fine, slave. You just haven’t a clue how to use it. And in all honesty? That’s exactly how I want you.”
Matt’s eyes looked up at her. “Mistress…I want to make you wet, too. I want you to think about MY cock, too.”
Before his mind had registered what happened her hand darted down to his genitals and clenched them together, tight. Tugging and twisting brutally.
“I DO think about them, bitch!” She let go and started swatting at his little head, tiny dribbles of precum spraying around like spittle. “You stupid little slut, you have no IDEA how wet your cock gets me! Maybe not the way you think it should though, hm?”
“Please stop, mistress, please, it hurts…” Oh, that begging was like a symphony to her.
She paused and sat back in her chair, holding her finger to her chin as she thought about something. “I want you to make a choice.” And with that she stood up and walked over to the bed. The clothes came off and she propped herself up on her knees, doggy style, her ass facing him. “I want to choose what you think you should do with this pussy. Do you really want to fuck it? Is that what you think you should do? Then go ahead, be my guest. Or…” she paused for effect,”perhaps you can think of something else. What’s your choice, Matthew? Come along now, the clock’s ticking.”
He couldn’t help but stare right at her. Oh, it looked so moist to him, glistening from the abuse she just heaped upon his poor cock, suddenly rock-hard again. He inched closer to her. Closer that pussy that he knew was so hungry. That needed to be satisified. And...and...and she had just told him, point-blank, that he could not do that with the meat between his legs. It had been so long since he had sex. So long. It was his for the taking now. His hands reached out. They grabbed her hips. And then they moved down to her thighs. He chose to slide his tongue up and down her pussy lips, knowing full well that he could please her with that. She smiled and moaned, pushing her rear into his face. Covering it with her juices.
She pulled him close when it was all done. “Stick out your tongue.” He raised an eyebrow and did as he was told. She grabbed it between her thumb and index finger gently. “This is what you have that can please me, pet. Not that,” she glanced down between his legs, “but this,” she said as she wiggled his tongue and smiled.
He smiled back. “I’m happy to serve, Mistress.”
“I know.”
The end
Wonder Boy and Mistress Electric Go To Knott's Berry Farm by Lady Noirran
Wonder Boy and Mistress Electric go to Knott's Berry Farm
She had a wild hair for an amusement park, so off they went.
They paid the entry fee and stopped to look around, there were people
everywhere. He prided himself on being prepared, he was ready for
anything she threw at him.
She asked him an innocuous question, "How many rollercoasters
do they have here?" He smiled and replied, "Well technically Mistress,
they aren't all rollercoasters, some are thrill rides".
She simply looked at him and blinked.
Clearing his throat, he answered the question, "10 Mistress".
Opening the brochure she looked for the first one, "Off we go then".
They were strapped into a cage at the end of the line, she had specifically
asked to be at the end. When the ride began, she turned and smiled slipping her hand
down the front of his pants and wrapping it around his cock. He slouched down a bit
to give her a better grip and grinned.
As the line of cages began the first climb, she stroked him until the he was rock
hard. At the first drop...she screamed and squeezed his cock until he thought he would
pass out. He started to panic, realizing what was happening...the cart slowly climbing
...her hand slowly stroking... Another drop, he imagined this is what it would feel
like if his cock were caught in a bear trap. The remainder of the ride continued like
this, he was praying to every diety he could think of when the line of cages pulled
into the final platform.
Getting out of the cage he guessed he looked pretty bad because the guy
pointed over to a bucket and told him to vomit there, not on the floor. He gasped
for breathe raising his head to look at her. The smile she gave him was brilliant.
She made a tic mark on the brochure and said:
"Come along boy, one down 9 more to go!"
She had a wild hair for an amusement park, so off they went.
They paid the entry fee and stopped to look around, there were people
everywhere. He prided himself on being prepared, he was ready for
anything she threw at him.
She asked him an innocuous question, "How many rollercoasters
do they have here?" He smiled and replied, "Well technically Mistress,
they aren't all rollercoasters, some are thrill rides".
She simply looked at him and blinked.
Clearing his throat, he answered the question, "10 Mistress".
Opening the brochure she looked for the first one, "Off we go then".
They were strapped into a cage at the end of the line, she had specifically
asked to be at the end. When the ride began, she turned and smiled slipping her hand
down the front of his pants and wrapping it around his cock. He slouched down a bit
to give her a better grip and grinned.
As the line of cages began the first climb, she stroked him until the he was rock
hard. At the first drop...she screamed and squeezed his cock until he thought he would
pass out. He started to panic, realizing what was happening...the cart slowly climbing
...her hand slowly stroking... Another drop, he imagined this is what it would feel
like if his cock were caught in a bear trap. The remainder of the ride continued like
this, he was praying to every diety he could think of when the line of cages pulled
into the final platform.
Getting out of the cage he guessed he looked pretty bad because the guy
pointed over to a bucket and told him to vomit there, not on the floor. He gasped
for breathe raising his head to look at her. The smile she gave him was brilliant.
She made a tic mark on the brochure and said:
"Come along boy, one down 9 more to go!"
Yours by Jordan
by Jordan Wolfe
I slid the three steel rings, concentric but of decreasing radii from back to front and bound in the leather harness, over and down the shaft of my cock. My fingers moved deftly, and with speed - for I knew that I would have mere seconds before the stiffening of my member started to make the task infinitely more challenging. I pulled the largest ring flush against my pelvic bone, until it sat atop the thick mass of my swollen ball sac. I reached through the ring, grasping first one and then the other ball between my fingers and pulled them forward, one at a time until they passed through the tightly fitted ring. I was glad that I was shaved down there - it decreased the discomfort of pulled hair and made it easier to pass the smooth skin of my sac through the ring.
I breathed a small sigh of relief as I had completed the task; and looked down as I saw my semi-engorged cock - the shaft extending out from my loins to where it ended in the thick, reddened head. The rings cut into me as I swelled, and I could feel the bite...and welcomed it, as an eerie sense of calmness fell over me as it nearly always did.
I stood there, hands by my side and naked except for the cage and my collar, to allow Mistress to examine me. My eyes fell upon the sturdy chrome leash that trailed from the neck of my collar to the harness on her hand. I looked up then, and my eyes took in his Mistress' face as I proclaimed, quietly and with pride: "Yours".
I slid the three steel rings, concentric but of decreasing radii from back to front and bound in the leather harness, over and down the shaft of my cock. My fingers moved deftly, and with speed - for I knew that I would have mere seconds before the stiffening of my member started to make the task infinitely more challenging. I pulled the largest ring flush against my pelvic bone, until it sat atop the thick mass of my swollen ball sac. I reached through the ring, grasping first one and then the other ball between my fingers and pulled them forward, one at a time until they passed through the tightly fitted ring. I was glad that I was shaved down there - it decreased the discomfort of pulled hair and made it easier to pass the smooth skin of my sac through the ring.
I breathed a small sigh of relief as I had completed the task; and looked down as I saw my semi-engorged cock - the shaft extending out from my loins to where it ended in the thick, reddened head. The rings cut into me as I swelled, and I could feel the bite...and welcomed it, as an eerie sense of calmness fell over me as it nearly always did.
I stood there, hands by my side and naked except for the cage and my collar, to allow Mistress to examine me. My eyes fell upon the sturdy chrome leash that trailed from the neck of my collar to the harness on her hand. I looked up then, and my eyes took in his Mistress' face as I proclaimed, quietly and with pride: "Yours".
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Pieces by Rex
"Pieces" by Rex
Would you take that piece of me, and keep it somewhere safe?
A piece you claimed when you leaned close and listened to the wearisome beating of my mending heart.
A piece; you remember, when my name was first spoken within your docile, airy tones.
That part of me you conquered, when you've taken my breath away, and I still have yet to find.
That part of me that wants to wear your smiles around my neck within a locket of gold, to make them everlasting.
That piece of me that wants to wear your bruises on my own skin, just to ease your pains.
That piece of me that wants to catch you if you falter, just as you have done for me.
Yet another piece you seize when I am reminded I am yours.
Time moves on, and still I sneak those glances as if the world has stilled and all there seems to be is you.
Time moves on, and yet you're still my favorite song.
Will you remember all of these pieces, will you remember how you found them.
Would you take all these pieces of me, and keep them somewhere safe?
Would you take that piece of me, and keep it somewhere safe?
A piece you claimed when you leaned close and listened to the wearisome beating of my mending heart.
A piece; you remember, when my name was first spoken within your docile, airy tones.
That part of me you conquered, when you've taken my breath away, and I still have yet to find.
That part of me that wants to wear your smiles around my neck within a locket of gold, to make them everlasting.
That piece of me that wants to wear your bruises on my own skin, just to ease your pains.
That piece of me that wants to catch you if you falter, just as you have done for me.
Yet another piece you seize when I am reminded I am yours.
Time moves on, and still I sneak those glances as if the world has stilled and all there seems to be is you.
Time moves on, and yet you're still my favorite song.
Will you remember all of these pieces, will you remember how you found them.
Would you take all these pieces of me, and keep them somewhere safe?
An (Silly, Yet Heartfelt) Ode To Summer by Lady Eva
An (Silly, Yet Heartfelt) Ode To Summer
Now that Summer is soon to be passing
We'll say goodbye to sunny relaxing
And will turn our thoughts to fall
With new courtyard chairs and all
But you can take comfort in the fact
That even with the sun upon our backs
Summer reins supreme in the Confessions Bar
With lovely friends from near and far!
Now that Summer is soon to be passing
We'll say goodbye to sunny relaxing
And will turn our thoughts to fall
With new courtyard chairs and all
But you can take comfort in the fact
That even with the sun upon our backs
Summer reins supreme in the Confessions Bar
With lovely friends from near and far!
At The Office by Anonymous
You would have thought, Mistress, that cumming every day for the past 5 days would mean that I was in some way less edgy. Less inclined to get all worked up. Less likely to sit at my desk and rub Your hard erect cock. Work colleagues around, but unable to stop myself. You would think that I would somehow have more control. But I am unable to Mistress. Unable to exercise any control at all, following Your instructions instantly without hesitation, reading Your words and reacting immediately. Sitting at my desk, shivering and shaking, head spinning and reeling, fingers reaching down under the desk, rubbing Your erect member until I can feel it leaking and straining.
Eyes reading the screen hungrily, hoping and begging for You to instruct me how to cum. Wondering if You will allow me to explode, then lick it all up, mind wandering to thoughts of covered toilet seats and floors. Desperate to eat the cum that would shoot from Your cock. Almost fainting when You say that I am allowed.....all over the wall, licking it up....... but first edging twice. Moaning in delight, these thoughts fresh in my mind I cannot help but run to my favourite cubicle.
I stand facing the wall, nervously pulling down my pants and jocks, Your hard erect cock springing free. I cannot help noticing the large wet pre-cum stains on my jocks. I then proceed to stroke myself.
Edging the first time my head full of images and thoughts planted there by Mistress. Pictures of me sucking cock and eating loads and mouthfuls of cum. Thinking of kneeling before a faceless man, a large erect cock before me, glancing at Mistress who nods slowly, smiling. Lips parting slowly as I begin to suck it deep into my hungry mouth. Eyes closing as I stroke myself harder and faster, almost unable to stop as I reach the edge so quickly, suddenly my mind full of reflections of this man's huge cock pounding my face, stopping my stroking and avoiding cumming just as he spurts and squirts ream after ream of cum all over my face, and eyes and mouth, covering me in it, eyes blinking as it stings. Shuddering, returning to the bathroom, knowing that this was only the first edge to be completed.
Beginning to stroke the second time I let my mind wander again. Fantasies and imagination taking me far from the bathroom. Finding myself lying below my Mistress, a face of concentration and a smile of pleasure on Her lips. My eyes widening in fear and apprehension as Her lips part and Her gorgeous voice speaks - "A canvas of skin to paint pain on is such a lovely thing". Losing myself in those words, thrusting my body forward, offering it to Her. Then watching intently as a sharp scalpel appears in Her hand and moves to Your skin, cutting my flesh, slowly and deliberately, not understanding Her intent as She moves the blade across my chest. Only aware of the sharp sensations and the warm flow of blood on my torso. Eyes blinking, head lolling, lost in the sweet caress of pain. Only when Mistress purrs softly do my eyes flutter, staring down at my chest, seeing the carving of the letters. W H O R E etched into my skin, deep dark red blood flowing, seeping down my body. Head jolting back to the bathroom, hand stroking Your cock, almost cumming again as Mistress admires Her handiwork, and whispers in my ear "good whore". Only just managing to stop myself from cumming, but feeling relieved that the last of the edging is complete, knowing now I am able to stroke until I scream.
I then start back plunging my hand up and down the length of Your cock, head full of a glorious combination of both scenarios. Kneeling before a huge cock, sucking it deep within, savouring its' taste, my torso blood smeared, the word "WHORE" screaming in pained red from my chest. Gagging as I am face fucked. Then suddenly from nowhere I am spasming. Your cock suddenly bursting forth. Not aware of what was in my head previously, only focused on a desperation to please Mistress and spray my seed over the cubicle, desperate to do so, then finally filled with the joy of pleasing Mistress as Your cock spurts cum all over the wall. Watching as some runs quickly down the smooth surface before I am able to stop it. Sliding down the wall and dripping onto the floor. Stroking until I am empty, face flushed with exertion. Then quickly beginning to lap at the cum, hungrily dropping to my knees and licking and sucking the sperm from the wall, savoring it all, and then to the floor where it had dripped, using my tongue along the floor to scoop that up also.
Picking myself up, dressing and exiting, shaking and shuddering all over as I made my way back to my desk. Thank You so much Mistress, Your cum licking, dirty, filthy pain whore is so fortunate to be Yours.
Eyes reading the screen hungrily, hoping and begging for You to instruct me how to cum. Wondering if You will allow me to explode, then lick it all up, mind wandering to thoughts of covered toilet seats and floors. Desperate to eat the cum that would shoot from Your cock. Almost fainting when You say that I am allowed.....all over the wall, licking it up....... but first edging twice. Moaning in delight, these thoughts fresh in my mind I cannot help but run to my favourite cubicle.
I stand facing the wall, nervously pulling down my pants and jocks, Your hard erect cock springing free. I cannot help noticing the large wet pre-cum stains on my jocks. I then proceed to stroke myself.
Edging the first time my head full of images and thoughts planted there by Mistress. Pictures of me sucking cock and eating loads and mouthfuls of cum. Thinking of kneeling before a faceless man, a large erect cock before me, glancing at Mistress who nods slowly, smiling. Lips parting slowly as I begin to suck it deep into my hungry mouth. Eyes closing as I stroke myself harder and faster, almost unable to stop as I reach the edge so quickly, suddenly my mind full of reflections of this man's huge cock pounding my face, stopping my stroking and avoiding cumming just as he spurts and squirts ream after ream of cum all over my face, and eyes and mouth, covering me in it, eyes blinking as it stings. Shuddering, returning to the bathroom, knowing that this was only the first edge to be completed.
Beginning to stroke the second time I let my mind wander again. Fantasies and imagination taking me far from the bathroom. Finding myself lying below my Mistress, a face of concentration and a smile of pleasure on Her lips. My eyes widening in fear and apprehension as Her lips part and Her gorgeous voice speaks - "A canvas of skin to paint pain on is such a lovely thing". Losing myself in those words, thrusting my body forward, offering it to Her. Then watching intently as a sharp scalpel appears in Her hand and moves to Your skin, cutting my flesh, slowly and deliberately, not understanding Her intent as She moves the blade across my chest. Only aware of the sharp sensations and the warm flow of blood on my torso. Eyes blinking, head lolling, lost in the sweet caress of pain. Only when Mistress purrs softly do my eyes flutter, staring down at my chest, seeing the carving of the letters. W H O R E etched into my skin, deep dark red blood flowing, seeping down my body. Head jolting back to the bathroom, hand stroking Your cock, almost cumming again as Mistress admires Her handiwork, and whispers in my ear "good whore". Only just managing to stop myself from cumming, but feeling relieved that the last of the edging is complete, knowing now I am able to stroke until I scream.
I then start back plunging my hand up and down the length of Your cock, head full of a glorious combination of both scenarios. Kneeling before a huge cock, sucking it deep within, savouring its' taste, my torso blood smeared, the word "WHORE" screaming in pained red from my chest. Gagging as I am face fucked. Then suddenly from nowhere I am spasming. Your cock suddenly bursting forth. Not aware of what was in my head previously, only focused on a desperation to please Mistress and spray my seed over the cubicle, desperate to do so, then finally filled with the joy of pleasing Mistress as Your cock spurts cum all over the wall. Watching as some runs quickly down the smooth surface before I am able to stop it. Sliding down the wall and dripping onto the floor. Stroking until I am empty, face flushed with exertion. Then quickly beginning to lap at the cum, hungrily dropping to my knees and licking and sucking the sperm from the wall, savoring it all, and then to the floor where it had dripped, using my tongue along the floor to scoop that up also.
Picking myself up, dressing and exiting, shaking and shuddering all over as I made my way back to my desk. Thank You so much Mistress, Your cum licking, dirty, filthy pain whore is so fortunate to be Yours.
Don't You Get It? by Lady Dalia
"Don't you get it?"
Maelstrom of courtyard chatter makes me dizzy and unreal. What do you want from me? I hear you speak but you utter nothing with substance; no form attached to the endless ramblings. I feel as if you try to soothe me, like a cat, whispering gently in my ear. Stop, stroking. It isn't welcome. I will not be managed by you.
"Oh Miss Dalia, you are so.... " What? What will you tell me about myself that I do not know? And still you have the audacity to prod and poke. Wake up! Telling me something about you. Where have you been, where are you going and why haven't you got there yet? Lay it on the line for me. Tell me you defeats; show me your humanity. The best of us are but small at times.
There is nothing you can think, strategize or anticipate that I want. You will never succeed because your head is in the wrong space. It's not about you finding the perfect formula. It's about remembering one small little phrase, "What would you like Ma'am?" and casting it adrift. In the silence you wait; this dance eternal. I lead, you follow.
Maelstrom of courtyard chatter makes me dizzy and unreal. What do you want from me? I hear you speak but you utter nothing with substance; no form attached to the endless ramblings. I feel as if you try to soothe me, like a cat, whispering gently in my ear. Stop, stroking. It isn't welcome. I will not be managed by you.
"Oh Miss Dalia, you are so.... " What? What will you tell me about myself that I do not know? And still you have the audacity to prod and poke. Wake up! Telling me something about you. Where have you been, where are you going and why haven't you got there yet? Lay it on the line for me. Tell me you defeats; show me your humanity. The best of us are but small at times.
There is nothing you can think, strategize or anticipate that I want. You will never succeed because your head is in the wrong space. It's not about you finding the perfect formula. It's about remembering one small little phrase, "What would you like Ma'am?" and casting it adrift. In the silence you wait; this dance eternal. I lead, you follow.
On The Block by Sillien
No no no no no. Not her. Anyone but her...
"I have Miss Bonnie with 600 Lindens! Anyone else? Are you ladies really going to let her snatch him up for less than you probably spent on shoes this morning?"
I never liked Miss Bonnie. She had the worst laugh ever and always greeted everyone with “Smoochies!” Yech. Made my skin crawl everytime she popped into the room. What the heck did she want with me, anyway? We never really talked all that much. And then another lady asked a question.
“Does he cam? And will he take it up the ass on camera?” Miss Wanda asked. The thought of Miss Wanda purchasing made me perk up.
“That’s a very good question! Well does he?”
Oh my God, for Miss Wanda I would shove it up my ass so far it would reach my small intestines. I would plant it on the hardwood floor and slide up and down while she watched me moaning and grunting. Every time I saw her in the courtyard I had to stop myself from just crawling over to her feet and looking up at her with puppy dog eyes. Okay, that all sounded a little creepy, but we did some flirting here and there, so it’s all good.
“Yes, Miss Eva, yes he does. With the only condition that he wear a hood.”
“Stop talking about yourself in the third person, sub. And did you hear that, Ladies? He will take it up the ass on cam for you! That HAS to be worth some Lindens, right?”
Oh shit. I had forgotten that I would have to do this for whoever won, not just Miss Wanda. Dammit.
“And Miss Wanda is in it for 1,000 Lindens! Go, Wanda! Who else wants a piece of this, Ladies? This is the last auction of the day, so get your bids in!”
Woot! Miss Wanda wanted me! I did a happy dance in my head, right up until the moment I heard...
“And Bonnie takes it to 1,500! Yay!”
Oh for...
“Miss Jane asks in chat, ‘Does he sing?’ How about it sub, are you willing to sing for us today?”
This was quickly getting out of control.
“I really am a horrible singer, Miss Eva, and I don’t really think you Ladies have any interest in hearing..."
“Sub. Don’t tell us what we don’t want to hear, thank you very much. Yes or no, will you or won’t you?”
I muted my mic and sighed. Why do Ladies want to hear us sing so much? I thought we were the masochists here...
“Yes, Miss. I’ll sing.”
There was an uncomfortable pause.
“Well? Are you going to let us hear it or not?”
Aw crap. I mean really?? Why did I do this again? There was only one song that I could think of right there on the spot...
“I am the very model of a modern Major-General,
I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I know the Kings of England and I quote the fights historical,
From Marathon to Waterloo in order categorical.”
And that’s all I’m going to make you listen to. I hate making my audience suffer. It’s unbecoming of a writer to put his audience through something so horrific. My name isn’t Stephen King. As expected, I finished the song to a great deal of laughter at my own expense. Anything for the D, right?
"And Wanda's in it for 2,000!"
If she would have won it would all have been worth it, but alas...
"2,500 from Bonnie!"
I saw that coming. For a quick moment I seriously considered IMing the lovely Miss Wanda if I could send her some Lindens to help her get me, but I thought better of it. She may have other reasons for not wanting to bid so much for me, after all. No, my fate for the next three days was in her hands. I dared to hope for the briefest of moments...
"And the sub goes to Miss Bonnie for the sum of 2,500 Lindens! Off you go, sub!"
Nope. It would be three days full of smoochie boochies. And yes, I did take it up the ass for her. On camera. My hole swallowing up a dildo for her viewing pleasure. I had a choice to make in all this. Do I act like a little child because I didn't get what I wanted? Or do I suck it up and do my best to respect her donation to the sim. To show that I respected this place enough to deliver what I had promised? Once I came to that realization, that this was more about the place that I liked so much than it was this domme I didn’t like all that much, it all became a lot easier.
Truth be told, she wasn't half as bad as I had thought. I even managed to have some fun visiting the Arcade sim with her. We sat in the courtyard Monday afternoon, me kneeling at her feet, when Miss Wanda rezzed in and took a seat. I won't lie and tell you I didn't think about her, but I was able to not disrespect my purchaser by flirting with another Lady before my contract was fulfilled. It might seem like something inconsequential to you, but I feel like I truly did give something to the D by honoring that commitment.
After it was all over Miss Bonnie seemd to have enjoyed her time with me. Miss Wanda and I went back to our flirting. Which soon became playing. And before long I found myself on cam once again. Taking it up the ass. And singing the Major General’s Song in a full courtyard on a slow Monday afternoon for the sadistic pleasure of my Mistress, Wanda. And that is my story of being on the block.
The End
"I have Miss Bonnie with 600 Lindens! Anyone else? Are you ladies really going to let her snatch him up for less than you probably spent on shoes this morning?"
I never liked Miss Bonnie. She had the worst laugh ever and always greeted everyone with “Smoochies!” Yech. Made my skin crawl everytime she popped into the room. What the heck did she want with me, anyway? We never really talked all that much. And then another lady asked a question.
“Does he cam? And will he take it up the ass on camera?” Miss Wanda asked. The thought of Miss Wanda purchasing made me perk up.
“That’s a very good question! Well does he?”
Oh my God, for Miss Wanda I would shove it up my ass so far it would reach my small intestines. I would plant it on the hardwood floor and slide up and down while she watched me moaning and grunting. Every time I saw her in the courtyard I had to stop myself from just crawling over to her feet and looking up at her with puppy dog eyes. Okay, that all sounded a little creepy, but we did some flirting here and there, so it’s all good.
“Yes, Miss Eva, yes he does. With the only condition that he wear a hood.”
“Stop talking about yourself in the third person, sub. And did you hear that, Ladies? He will take it up the ass on cam for you! That HAS to be worth some Lindens, right?”
Oh shit. I had forgotten that I would have to do this for whoever won, not just Miss Wanda. Dammit.
“And Miss Wanda is in it for 1,000 Lindens! Go, Wanda! Who else wants a piece of this, Ladies? This is the last auction of the day, so get your bids in!”
Woot! Miss Wanda wanted me! I did a happy dance in my head, right up until the moment I heard...
“And Bonnie takes it to 1,500! Yay!”
Oh for...
“Miss Jane asks in chat, ‘Does he sing?’ How about it sub, are you willing to sing for us today?”
This was quickly getting out of control.
“I really am a horrible singer, Miss Eva, and I don’t really think you Ladies have any interest in hearing..."
“Sub. Don’t tell us what we don’t want to hear, thank you very much. Yes or no, will you or won’t you?”
I muted my mic and sighed. Why do Ladies want to hear us sing so much? I thought we were the masochists here...
“Yes, Miss. I’ll sing.”
There was an uncomfortable pause.
“Well? Are you going to let us hear it or not?”
Aw crap. I mean really?? Why did I do this again? There was only one song that I could think of right there on the spot...
“I am the very model of a modern Major-General,
I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I know the Kings of England and I quote the fights historical,
From Marathon to Waterloo in order categorical.”
And that’s all I’m going to make you listen to. I hate making my audience suffer. It’s unbecoming of a writer to put his audience through something so horrific. My name isn’t Stephen King. As expected, I finished the song to a great deal of laughter at my own expense. Anything for the D, right?
"And Wanda's in it for 2,000!"
If she would have won it would all have been worth it, but alas...
"2,500 from Bonnie!"
I saw that coming. For a quick moment I seriously considered IMing the lovely Miss Wanda if I could send her some Lindens to help her get me, but I thought better of it. She may have other reasons for not wanting to bid so much for me, after all. No, my fate for the next three days was in her hands. I dared to hope for the briefest of moments...
"And the sub goes to Miss Bonnie for the sum of 2,500 Lindens! Off you go, sub!"
Nope. It would be three days full of smoochie boochies. And yes, I did take it up the ass for her. On camera. My hole swallowing up a dildo for her viewing pleasure. I had a choice to make in all this. Do I act like a little child because I didn't get what I wanted? Or do I suck it up and do my best to respect her donation to the sim. To show that I respected this place enough to deliver what I had promised? Once I came to that realization, that this was more about the place that I liked so much than it was this domme I didn’t like all that much, it all became a lot easier.
Truth be told, she wasn't half as bad as I had thought. I even managed to have some fun visiting the Arcade sim with her. We sat in the courtyard Monday afternoon, me kneeling at her feet, when Miss Wanda rezzed in and took a seat. I won't lie and tell you I didn't think about her, but I was able to not disrespect my purchaser by flirting with another Lady before my contract was fulfilled. It might seem like something inconsequential to you, but I feel like I truly did give something to the D by honoring that commitment.
After it was all over Miss Bonnie seemd to have enjoyed her time with me. Miss Wanda and I went back to our flirting. Which soon became playing. And before long I found myself on cam once again. Taking it up the ass. And singing the Major General’s Song in a full courtyard on a slow Monday afternoon for the sadistic pleasure of my Mistress, Wanda. And that is my story of being on the block.
The End
The Pedagogical Tool by Ganainm
The first thing I thought of when I opened my eyes was coffee. The second was the feeling of a whip biting into the flesh of my back. I shook the thought off as an improbable dream and tried to rise to my feet. The searing pain across my shoulder was enough to convince me that I hadn’t been dreaming. Add to that the fact that I was bound, spread-eagle to a horizontal surface covered in what felt like leather, and I knew I was in hot water.
She and her friend were sitting at the bar seeming to survey the room, like a pair of predators looking for prey. She had dark red hair that spilled over her shoulders in an seductive cascade, her friend was blond, and her eyes darted around the room hungrily.
I had just come in for a drink on my way back from a late meeting. My plan was to toss back a bourbon, go back to the room, shower and change and then head out in search of a steakhouse. I sat at the bar some distance away from the two women, who seemed to be paying no attention to me at all and signaled the bartender. His movement toward me attracted the eye of the two women who glanced my way briefly, then at each other. The bartender paused on his way to me to fill their drinks from a martini shaker he’d been holding. The red-head spoke a few words to him and he came and took my order.
I made short work of the bourbon and threw a few bills on the bar to pay for the drink. As I did so, I noticed that the two women were no longer at the bar. I guessed that they had found their victim, poor fellow. I chuckled at the thought
I got into the elevator and pressed the button for my floor. The doors closed and I began to feel a bit light-headed. I thought it was the high-speed elevator at first, but when the doors opened on my floor I staggered out into the hall and fished for my key, thinking I’d lie down for a while before going out. I slipped the electronic key into the slot and fell forward into the room. As the clouds gathered in my head, I felt hands on me, dragging me into the room and I knew suddenly that someone had been waiting for me inside.
And now, here I was…
And there they were, watching me come to consciousness. They had identical smirks of superiority on their faces as they observed me discovering my predicament. They stood close together, their bodies touching sensuously. They were dressed in black revealing tops with acres of cleavage an bare midriffs descending to tight, shiny, black, form-fitting latex pants. They began to move toward me and I heard the click of their heels on the hardwood floor.
One on either side of my helpless body they eased themselves along the length of me, their hands sliding along my inner thighs, roughly over my balls and cock and up over my belly to my chest, where they took a moment to pinch my nipples and laugh as I winced.
They leaned over until their faces were inches from my own.
The red-head spoke first, but not to me.
“See, Monica, we have someone for you to train on. I’ll teach you how to make him feel pain without passing out. You can program him to please you and make him your slave.”
I tried to protest but she slammed her hand over my mouth before I could utter a word.
“Rule one: Don’t let him speak.”
Monica smiled at her companion. “I think I can fix that, Rae, “she said, and walked away. Moments later she returned and I felt her jam a sort of ball into my mouth. It was attached to straps which she then fastened around the back of my head, pulling them very tightly.
“Now, boy,” said Monica, “What were you saying?”
Both women burst into wicked laughter.
I could see myself through their eyes for a moment, wide-eyed, gasping and writhing against my bonds. I’m sure they enjoyed it.
She and her friend were sitting at the bar seeming to survey the room, like a pair of predators looking for prey. She had dark red hair that spilled over her shoulders in an seductive cascade, her friend was blond, and her eyes darted around the room hungrily.
I had just come in for a drink on my way back from a late meeting. My plan was to toss back a bourbon, go back to the room, shower and change and then head out in search of a steakhouse. I sat at the bar some distance away from the two women, who seemed to be paying no attention to me at all and signaled the bartender. His movement toward me attracted the eye of the two women who glanced my way briefly, then at each other. The bartender paused on his way to me to fill their drinks from a martini shaker he’d been holding. The red-head spoke a few words to him and he came and took my order.
I made short work of the bourbon and threw a few bills on the bar to pay for the drink. As I did so, I noticed that the two women were no longer at the bar. I guessed that they had found their victim, poor fellow. I chuckled at the thought
I got into the elevator and pressed the button for my floor. The doors closed and I began to feel a bit light-headed. I thought it was the high-speed elevator at first, but when the doors opened on my floor I staggered out into the hall and fished for my key, thinking I’d lie down for a while before going out. I slipped the electronic key into the slot and fell forward into the room. As the clouds gathered in my head, I felt hands on me, dragging me into the room and I knew suddenly that someone had been waiting for me inside.
And now, here I was…
And there they were, watching me come to consciousness. They had identical smirks of superiority on their faces as they observed me discovering my predicament. They stood close together, their bodies touching sensuously. They were dressed in black revealing tops with acres of cleavage an bare midriffs descending to tight, shiny, black, form-fitting latex pants. They began to move toward me and I heard the click of their heels on the hardwood floor.
One on either side of my helpless body they eased themselves along the length of me, their hands sliding along my inner thighs, roughly over my balls and cock and up over my belly to my chest, where they took a moment to pinch my nipples and laugh as I winced.
They leaned over until their faces were inches from my own.
The red-head spoke first, but not to me.
“See, Monica, we have someone for you to train on. I’ll teach you how to make him feel pain without passing out. You can program him to please you and make him your slave.”
I tried to protest but she slammed her hand over my mouth before I could utter a word.
“Rule one: Don’t let him speak.”
Monica smiled at her companion. “I think I can fix that, Rae, “she said, and walked away. Moments later she returned and I felt her jam a sort of ball into my mouth. It was attached to straps which she then fastened around the back of my head, pulling them very tightly.
“Now, boy,” said Monica, “What were you saying?”
Both women burst into wicked laughter.
I could see myself through their eyes for a moment, wide-eyed, gasping and writhing against my bonds. I’m sure they enjoyed it.
The Secret by Rebelpoet
Mistress told me if I was to be hers i would have to voice. And I was terrified to be that open. I couldn't hide behind text, she would hear the truth in my voice. But I went and got a microphone that worked. My stomach was doing butterflies, my breathing was so fast, I was sweating, and thought I would throw up. But Mistress coached me into talking. And we talked in a sim park and I started telling her everything. How I had been agoraphobic and didn't leave my home for a year, how I had had panic attacks all the time, and was terrified al the time. How I wanted to be a real sub but was too scared to go out in public. I kept thinking that at any minute she would reject me and not want to be with me. But instead she offered her protection. And I accepted.
Later that night, Mistress told me over mic, "I want you to wear my ribbon," Mistress said over her mic.
"I don't understand," I replied.
"Go and get a ribbon," she ordered.
I went to the closet and opened up the Christmas wrapping box filled with bows, cards, ribbon, tape. I found a piece of red ribbon and returned to my computer and told her I had it.
Now she said, "Tie it in a bow at the head of your cock."
I knew better then to argue and slipped off my shorts and underwear.
"Now before you tie it, I want you to stroke your cock eight times. "I want you to count it off and thank me for each one."
I took my hand and stroked my limp cock from it's base to the head. "One Mistress, thank you, Mistress." I reached down and grabbed the base again and ran my hand already up my cock. "Two Mis. . . " and my Internet cut out.
"Start over you broke off and I didn't hear you."
I groaned.
"It's not my fault you have crappy internet."
I started again, "One Mistress, Thank you Mistress." As I continued to stroke my cock started to get hard. I thought to myself if I mess up she will make me start over and I can touch my cock more. I hadn't been allowed to touch it for two days. But instead I followed her orders and got through to the count of eight.
"Now boy, tie that ribbon to your cock. Do you know why I asked you to do that?"
I thought about it and finally said, "You talked about how I would always feel you with me and this reminds me of that."
"Oh good, Mine", she squealed. "Exactly.. It's bearing my mark for a short while to remind you your mine and of your commitment."
Then I eagerly tied the ribbon in a bow around my cock and tied it tight. i wore it all the next day. When I moved it reminded me that I was hers. And a smile would come to my face knowing that i was secretly wearing something that was like she had given to me. It was our own dirty secret. She finally let me take it off, but I keep the ribbon by my bed and it helps me to remember that I am hers.
Later that night, Mistress told me over mic, "I want you to wear my ribbon," Mistress said over her mic.
"I don't understand," I replied.
"Go and get a ribbon," she ordered.
I went to the closet and opened up the Christmas wrapping box filled with bows, cards, ribbon, tape. I found a piece of red ribbon and returned to my computer and told her I had it.
Now she said, "Tie it in a bow at the head of your cock."
I knew better then to argue and slipped off my shorts and underwear.
"Now before you tie it, I want you to stroke your cock eight times. "I want you to count it off and thank me for each one."
I took my hand and stroked my limp cock from it's base to the head. "One Mistress, thank you, Mistress." I reached down and grabbed the base again and ran my hand already up my cock. "Two Mis. . . " and my Internet cut out.
"Start over you broke off and I didn't hear you."
I groaned.
"It's not my fault you have crappy internet."
I started again, "One Mistress, Thank you Mistress." As I continued to stroke my cock started to get hard. I thought to myself if I mess up she will make me start over and I can touch my cock more. I hadn't been allowed to touch it for two days. But instead I followed her orders and got through to the count of eight.
"Now boy, tie that ribbon to your cock. Do you know why I asked you to do that?"
I thought about it and finally said, "You talked about how I would always feel you with me and this reminds me of that."
"Oh good, Mine", she squealed. "Exactly.. It's bearing my mark for a short while to remind you your mine and of your commitment."
Then I eagerly tied the ribbon in a bow around my cock and tied it tight. i wore it all the next day. When I moved it reminded me that I was hers. And a smile would come to my face knowing that i was secretly wearing something that was like she had given to me. It was our own dirty secret. She finally let me take it off, but I keep the ribbon by my bed and it helps me to remember that I am hers.
Where Is It? by Anonymous
i have looked into where is the clitoris, and now i even know
how to spell it, so thank You for this.
it is located in a Woman's vagina, following the lips right to the top, so at the upper part of the vagina.
i didn't know this before but it is the main way a Woman can reach orgasm, so stimulating this is important for a Woman to enjoy sex
how to spell it, so thank You for this.
it is located in a Woman's vagina, following the lips right to the top, so at the upper part of the vagina.
i didn't know this before but it is the main way a Woman can reach orgasm, so stimulating this is important for a Woman to enjoy sex
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Confession by Anonymous
What if
I know it's all going to be alright
But what if ...
I know you are a fighter
But what if...
I know I love you and you love me
But what if ...
I know we will laugh and have fun despite everything
But what if ...
I know you will be strong for us all
But what if ...
I know you mean so much to me
But what if ...
I know we can get through this
But what if ...
What if .... what if happens
It would break my heart
I know it's all going to be alright
But what if ...
I know you are a fighter
But what if...
I know I love you and you love me
But what if ...
I know we will laugh and have fun despite everything
But what if ...
I know you will be strong for us all
But what if ...
I know you mean so much to me
But what if ...
I know we can get through this
But what if ...
What if .... what if happens
It would break my heart
Gulps by Anonymous
alex has filled the container nearly three quarters full
with with nearly yellow urine
looks at it, and Miss Summer says to drink it
i know She wanted me too, and i have to do it
i cant lie or not do it now
i dont want to drink it , it looks awful
maybe if i gulp it in one go, it will be okay
like a shot of tequilla or something,
i pick up the container and gulp
but one gulp is not enough, it takes three
i feel sick, like puking
its in my tummy and i want to throw up desparetly
but i dont for now
i dont puke yet, i try not to
Miss Summer does not want me to puke now
with with nearly yellow urine
looks at it, and Miss Summer says to drink it
i know She wanted me too, and i have to do it
i cant lie or not do it now
i dont want to drink it , it looks awful
maybe if i gulp it in one go, it will be okay
like a shot of tequilla or something,
i pick up the container and gulp
but one gulp is not enough, it takes three
i feel sick, like puking
its in my tummy and i want to throw up desparetly
but i dont for now
i dont puke yet, i try not to
Miss Summer does not want me to puke now
New Toys by Casey
New Toys
I recently added a new toy to my collection after discussing it with my Mistress and getting her approval. I made the trip to the local adult store, seems I'm becoming a regular there judging from the friendly greeting I got from the butch woman behind the counter...well, they do have the best prices and a good stock of lube and cleansing wipes. Anyhow, I went to the small bdsm section and browsed a bit, checking out the various items before I spotted just what I'd gone there looking for, nipple clamps, clover clamps to be specific. I checked out a few different sets before settling on a pair of black ones with a chain running between them, unable to restrain the grin and feeling of anticipation building inside me as I imagined my nipples being pinched by the clamps. I happily paid for my purchase and took them home, opened the package and admired them a bit before putting them in my bag, resisting the temptation to try them out.
I let Mistress know I'd gotten the clamps that evening. The next day I felt a familiar thrill go through me when Mistress told me to get my toys, telling me to get out my lube, ass plug, and the new clamps. I couldn't stop squirming, as usual, much to Mistress' amusement...yeah, I'm a slut. After lubing my ass and inserting the plug, I was given the instruction to put the clamps on, one at a time. As I fastened each clamp in place, I couldn't hold back the gasps and moans as they pinched my nipples, sending a thrill of painful pleasure straight to my cock. I sat there, plugged and clamped, squirming for my Mistress, listening to her laughter and encouraging words. When she told me to tug on the chain for the first time, I thought I was going to come right then, but I held back...barely. After teasing and tormenting me for some time, much to her enjoyment, Mistress knew I was riding the edge and told me to remove the clamps, both at the same time and gave me permission to come when I did. I quickly pulled both clamps off, barely holding back the scream of pleasure and pain as I came so hard I thought my head would explode.
New toys are so much fun!
The End
I recently added a new toy to my collection after discussing it with my Mistress and getting her approval. I made the trip to the local adult store, seems I'm becoming a regular there judging from the friendly greeting I got from the butch woman behind the counter...well, they do have the best prices and a good stock of lube and cleansing wipes. Anyhow, I went to the small bdsm section and browsed a bit, checking out the various items before I spotted just what I'd gone there looking for, nipple clamps, clover clamps to be specific. I checked out a few different sets before settling on a pair of black ones with a chain running between them, unable to restrain the grin and feeling of anticipation building inside me as I imagined my nipples being pinched by the clamps. I happily paid for my purchase and took them home, opened the package and admired them a bit before putting them in my bag, resisting the temptation to try them out.
I let Mistress know I'd gotten the clamps that evening. The next day I felt a familiar thrill go through me when Mistress told me to get my toys, telling me to get out my lube, ass plug, and the new clamps. I couldn't stop squirming, as usual, much to Mistress' amusement...yeah, I'm a slut. After lubing my ass and inserting the plug, I was given the instruction to put the clamps on, one at a time. As I fastened each clamp in place, I couldn't hold back the gasps and moans as they pinched my nipples, sending a thrill of painful pleasure straight to my cock. I sat there, plugged and clamped, squirming for my Mistress, listening to her laughter and encouraging words. When she told me to tug on the chain for the first time, I thought I was going to come right then, but I held back...barely. After teasing and tormenting me for some time, much to her enjoyment, Mistress knew I was riding the edge and told me to remove the clamps, both at the same time and gave me permission to come when I did. I quickly pulled both clamps off, barely holding back the scream of pleasure and pain as I came so hard I thought my head would explode.
New toys are so much fun!
The End
November 1st by Lady Axelle
November 1st by Axelle Paramour
The hours show four and five, time to begin. I make one more quick call and reply to the last email of the day. I check the text she had sent that morning and try to recall if we were out of mushrooms or not. No, there’s still a few, she hadn’t wanted them in the salad a few nights ago. I stand and put on my warm coat, wrapping my neck with a scarf before grabbing my case, feeling the cool of her necklace press against me. It’s a few minutes past the half hour and I quicken my pace, not wanting to miss the trolley and return home late.
I sit next to a small girl as she chats with her mother or nanny and notice how when the little girl laughs she has the same smile as her, and how I had always thought that, that her smile was that of a child. Ear to ear with an abandon that made me whole. I come upon my stop and hop off, listening to the cling of the bell. It’s the first of November, I stop at the corner stand and buy the magazines she likes. I chuckle at the contents remembering how when I had once asked her why she read such frivolousness she had told me to hush, that no one could read Joyce all the time.
I walk up the hill, reaching out to touch the street lamp, holding on to the memory of when she had pushed my against it one far ago morning and had kissed me while she gripped my hair, whispering “Mine”. I enter the soundless house through the kitchen, hanging my coat and scarf on the hook. I drop my case in my office and head upstairs to place her magazine on her nightstand. I set the small bar of candy on top, because as much as she has told me she has sworn off sweets, I know it was an empty proclamation. When she turned forty she started this health kick, meaning she looks in the mirror more often examining herself and I had to learn to cook without butter and salt. I watch her sometimes trying to discern what she sees, if the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes remind her of the afternoons we laughed till we ached like they do for me.
The clock strikes twelve five times and I have half an hour, I change and turn on some music before heading to the kitchen. Though it’s only cooked once a year, the recipe isn’t lost to me. I brown the vegetables and meat, deglaze the pan with red wine, and add the tomato sauce. I omit the red pepper flakes “too spicey” and the cream “too fatty”. As it simmers I call out to Temple and hear her familiar gate trot close. She devours her kibble and I decide it’s best to make a salad to accompany the pasta and bread. She isn’t a puppy anymore, but she sure eats like one. I hear the clock strike once as I rip the last of the romaine, I quickly stir the sauce and head to the front hall.
Clicking the stereo off I find the cushion near the door and ease myself down on both knees. There hadn’t always been a cushion, but when I returned from the doctor last winter after fracturing my fibula it was there. I grip my left wrist with my right hand and my eyes wander over the wooden floor, she was right, the mahogany stain looks better than the ash would have. The telling sound of her key in the door makes my chest rise and my spine stiffen. She enters quietly, wiping her heels on the mat and dropping her keys on the small table. The hall door opens, closes, and she passes me heading up the stairs. I feel the familiar pain in my knees creep in but I don’t waiver. After a few minutes I hear her descend the stairs and her small black flats are standing in front of me. Her fingers gingerly glide through the tufts of my hair before cupping the back and settling under my chin. She lifts my face as she leans down and brushes her lips against mine, making my body ache and ease within the same gesture. “Get me something warm dear. “ she says, whistling for Temple and they amble out the front door.
She makes a face as she sips her tea, pushing the spaghetti bolognese around her plate and I tell her about my day. We talk of the ordinary, laughing at the humorous and sighing at the misfortune. When she finishes she thanks me for the meal and joins Temple by the fire in the living room. I clear the dishes and clean the kitchen, when I enter the living room with my book she’s aimlessly flipping through television channels. I take the seat opposite her on the couch, she slips her feet in my lap and I cover them with a pillow as I open my book and she settles on an old Kubrick movie. She keeps a straight face as she pokes me in the belly, distracting me from my story. Try as I might, I give in and laugh. When her yawning become more frequent I excuse myself and head upstairs, climbing in the sheets and shiver as I lay there like a star fish.
It’s not too long before she enters the bedroom and dresses for bed. I climb out and tuck the sheets back in before taking my place behind her and undoing the loose bun on top of her head. She gives her head a shake and her waves unfurl as she covers her mouth, stifling a yawn. I tilt my head toward the door and question, “Ma’am?”, she nods and waves me off as she slips in the sheets. Heading down the stairs she calls my name sternly as I hear the tell tale crinkle and I chuckle to myself. Temple snoozes at my feet as I check my emails and try to make headway on the latest project. Our daughter catches me online and she scolds me for trying to lay low today. We catch up a bit and I bid her a farewell when I notice the time. I nudge Temple and we both head to bed.
The light is off and I silently change. I slip in and she stirs, waking a bit, “About time dear.” She reaches behind the pillows and pulls the chains out, reaching for my wrists she clasps the bounds ‘round them and locks them with the key she wears around her neck before handing it to me so I can place it on my nightstand. The very first night she did this I asked why she just didn’t keep the key herself and she had said, “These chains don’t bind you to me anymore than that necklace around your neck does, the only thing that ties you to I is your desire and your will.” She nestles against me and I cradle her head and her back, pulling her close.
Between my rib cage I feel the weight of the smooth stone, smiling in the dark she whispers, “Happy Birthday My Love”, and places a kiss on top of my heart. Number twenty-nine. We had met when I was nineteen, on a family vacation to Sardinia. I had tagged along with my parents after a treacherous breakup. For my birthday they had taken me out for my favorite meal at a family run restaurant whose spaghetti bolognese was rumored to be the best in all of Italy. I was miserable and homesick, but when she approached our table to take our order there was something in her face that made me hurt less. I stayed at that table long after the meal and birthday cake, long after my parents left, long after she had made that joke about hating the famous dish. I offered to walk her home and after I had learned she was spending a semester abroad, she stopped me in the middle of the street, picked up a piece of cobblestone and tossed it to me, “Happy Birthday”. She stirs in my arms and I’m pulled from my reverie.
“Dear?”
“Yes Mistress?”
“What did you wish for all those nights ago?”
“I wished for home.”
She nods against my chest and I close my eyes as the clock strikes twelve times and we’re lulled to sleep.
The hours show four and five, time to begin. I make one more quick call and reply to the last email of the day. I check the text she had sent that morning and try to recall if we were out of mushrooms or not. No, there’s still a few, she hadn’t wanted them in the salad a few nights ago. I stand and put on my warm coat, wrapping my neck with a scarf before grabbing my case, feeling the cool of her necklace press against me. It’s a few minutes past the half hour and I quicken my pace, not wanting to miss the trolley and return home late.
I sit next to a small girl as she chats with her mother or nanny and notice how when the little girl laughs she has the same smile as her, and how I had always thought that, that her smile was that of a child. Ear to ear with an abandon that made me whole. I come upon my stop and hop off, listening to the cling of the bell. It’s the first of November, I stop at the corner stand and buy the magazines she likes. I chuckle at the contents remembering how when I had once asked her why she read such frivolousness she had told me to hush, that no one could read Joyce all the time.
I walk up the hill, reaching out to touch the street lamp, holding on to the memory of when she had pushed my against it one far ago morning and had kissed me while she gripped my hair, whispering “Mine”. I enter the soundless house through the kitchen, hanging my coat and scarf on the hook. I drop my case in my office and head upstairs to place her magazine on her nightstand. I set the small bar of candy on top, because as much as she has told me she has sworn off sweets, I know it was an empty proclamation. When she turned forty she started this health kick, meaning she looks in the mirror more often examining herself and I had to learn to cook without butter and salt. I watch her sometimes trying to discern what she sees, if the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes remind her of the afternoons we laughed till we ached like they do for me.
The clock strikes twelve five times and I have half an hour, I change and turn on some music before heading to the kitchen. Though it’s only cooked once a year, the recipe isn’t lost to me. I brown the vegetables and meat, deglaze the pan with red wine, and add the tomato sauce. I omit the red pepper flakes “too spicey” and the cream “too fatty”. As it simmers I call out to Temple and hear her familiar gate trot close. She devours her kibble and I decide it’s best to make a salad to accompany the pasta and bread. She isn’t a puppy anymore, but she sure eats like one. I hear the clock strike once as I rip the last of the romaine, I quickly stir the sauce and head to the front hall.
Clicking the stereo off I find the cushion near the door and ease myself down on both knees. There hadn’t always been a cushion, but when I returned from the doctor last winter after fracturing my fibula it was there. I grip my left wrist with my right hand and my eyes wander over the wooden floor, she was right, the mahogany stain looks better than the ash would have. The telling sound of her key in the door makes my chest rise and my spine stiffen. She enters quietly, wiping her heels on the mat and dropping her keys on the small table. The hall door opens, closes, and she passes me heading up the stairs. I feel the familiar pain in my knees creep in but I don’t waiver. After a few minutes I hear her descend the stairs and her small black flats are standing in front of me. Her fingers gingerly glide through the tufts of my hair before cupping the back and settling under my chin. She lifts my face as she leans down and brushes her lips against mine, making my body ache and ease within the same gesture. “Get me something warm dear. “ she says, whistling for Temple and they amble out the front door.
She makes a face as she sips her tea, pushing the spaghetti bolognese around her plate and I tell her about my day. We talk of the ordinary, laughing at the humorous and sighing at the misfortune. When she finishes she thanks me for the meal and joins Temple by the fire in the living room. I clear the dishes and clean the kitchen, when I enter the living room with my book she’s aimlessly flipping through television channels. I take the seat opposite her on the couch, she slips her feet in my lap and I cover them with a pillow as I open my book and she settles on an old Kubrick movie. She keeps a straight face as she pokes me in the belly, distracting me from my story. Try as I might, I give in and laugh. When her yawning become more frequent I excuse myself and head upstairs, climbing in the sheets and shiver as I lay there like a star fish.
It’s not too long before she enters the bedroom and dresses for bed. I climb out and tuck the sheets back in before taking my place behind her and undoing the loose bun on top of her head. She gives her head a shake and her waves unfurl as she covers her mouth, stifling a yawn. I tilt my head toward the door and question, “Ma’am?”, she nods and waves me off as she slips in the sheets. Heading down the stairs she calls my name sternly as I hear the tell tale crinkle and I chuckle to myself. Temple snoozes at my feet as I check my emails and try to make headway on the latest project. Our daughter catches me online and she scolds me for trying to lay low today. We catch up a bit and I bid her a farewell when I notice the time. I nudge Temple and we both head to bed.
The light is off and I silently change. I slip in and she stirs, waking a bit, “About time dear.” She reaches behind the pillows and pulls the chains out, reaching for my wrists she clasps the bounds ‘round them and locks them with the key she wears around her neck before handing it to me so I can place it on my nightstand. The very first night she did this I asked why she just didn’t keep the key herself and she had said, “These chains don’t bind you to me anymore than that necklace around your neck does, the only thing that ties you to I is your desire and your will.” She nestles against me and I cradle her head and her back, pulling her close.
Between my rib cage I feel the weight of the smooth stone, smiling in the dark she whispers, “Happy Birthday My Love”, and places a kiss on top of my heart. Number twenty-nine. We had met when I was nineteen, on a family vacation to Sardinia. I had tagged along with my parents after a treacherous breakup. For my birthday they had taken me out for my favorite meal at a family run restaurant whose spaghetti bolognese was rumored to be the best in all of Italy. I was miserable and homesick, but when she approached our table to take our order there was something in her face that made me hurt less. I stayed at that table long after the meal and birthday cake, long after my parents left, long after she had made that joke about hating the famous dish. I offered to walk her home and after I had learned she was spending a semester abroad, she stopped me in the middle of the street, picked up a piece of cobblestone and tossed it to me, “Happy Birthday”. She stirs in my arms and I’m pulled from my reverie.
“Dear?”
“Yes Mistress?”
“What did you wish for all those nights ago?”
“I wished for home.”
She nods against my chest and I close my eyes as the clock strikes twelve times and we’re lulled to sleep.
Confession by Heather
When I first met her, she kept attacking me with pillows and called me turtle. On the first of April 2012 she said something to me, that made me tingle and smile, I hadn't done that in a long time.
We share a love of Harry Potter, and though I still cannot believe it, I actually think she's a bigger Potterhead than I am. She's also a super nerd, quoting Yoda and all!
Once upon a time, I had to make a decissions, and although that decission caused a lot of heart ache in the end, I am glad it went the way it did. It brought us closer than ever before.
My Mistress, she is funny. She makes me laugh countless times a day, whether it is because of a joke, something silly she did, or just because she can't stop laughing.
There's no one who comforts me like her. She knows me well and I think I've pretty much figured her out. We're a good combo.
I'm not the best sub when it comes to focussing all my attention on a Domme. I'm not the best at entertaining her, nor am I the best at knowing when enough is enough.
But every day with her, I learn.
I want her to know, how much she means to me, yet I don't know how to tell her. I don't know how to tell her how much it means to me that she lets me rant, that she holds me when I'm sad and how she makes me laugh 'till I cry. I want her to know how much I appreciate her support this past week, I couldn't have done it without knowing she'd be there to talk to.
I want her to feel special. I want her to know, how much I love her, without sounding like a creep stalker. I want her to know that there's no one I feel more safer with, than with her, and to have that feeling, to me is special.
She has a big heart. I'm glad she let me in it.
I love you. Nerd. :P
We share a love of Harry Potter, and though I still cannot believe it, I actually think she's a bigger Potterhead than I am. She's also a super nerd, quoting Yoda and all!
Once upon a time, I had to make a decissions, and although that decission caused a lot of heart ache in the end, I am glad it went the way it did. It brought us closer than ever before.
My Mistress, she is funny. She makes me laugh countless times a day, whether it is because of a joke, something silly she did, or just because she can't stop laughing.
There's no one who comforts me like her. She knows me well and I think I've pretty much figured her out. We're a good combo.
I'm not the best sub when it comes to focussing all my attention on a Domme. I'm not the best at entertaining her, nor am I the best at knowing when enough is enough.
But every day with her, I learn.
I want her to know, how much she means to me, yet I don't know how to tell her. I don't know how to tell her how much it means to me that she lets me rant, that she holds me when I'm sad and how she makes me laugh 'till I cry. I want her to know how much I appreciate her support this past week, I couldn't have done it without knowing she'd be there to talk to.
I want her to feel special. I want her to know, how much I love her, without sounding like a creep stalker. I want her to know that there's no one I feel more safer with, than with her, and to have that feeling, to me is special.
She has a big heart. I'm glad she let me in it.
I love you. Nerd. :P
A Close Encounter by Joracus
A Close Encounter
Written by Joracus
My Saturday began as it usually does. I slept in until around noon, laying in bed for an hour or so, reflecting on the week I had just had. Thinking hard about the ups and downs, reviewing the things I had done at work. I get up and sit on the edge of my bed trying to decide what to do today. Should I stay home and catch up on some chores? Or maybe go out and see that movie I've been wanting to see for a couple weeks now. I shrug, figuring I’ll think about it as I get ready, standing up and pulling off my clothes as I walk towards the shower. Stepping in slowly as the water hits my skin, wincing at first to the heat but relaxing as my body adjusts. Lathering my hair and body with soap, I reach down moving my hand over my stomach to my groin, gripping my lathered cock in my hand as I begin to stroke. Faster and faster, my fingers curled tightly around the throbbing shaft as I drew myself closer and closer to orgasm. My free hand grips my ass and spreads my cheek slightly, wondering if should try something different. I've always been curious of how it feels, pressing the tip of my finger to the opening of my ass. I chicken out of course and just finish as usual. Moaning out as I begin to cum, the water hitting my chest as my cum flows down the drain. I look down and smile with relief as my morning wood finally begins to disappear.
I get dressed and finally decide that I would treat myself today and go see that movie. Checking movie times, I notice that there was one starting in the next 25 minutes. I gather my things and run out the door, knowing if I hurry I could get there a few minutes after the beginning credits.
After arriving at the theater, as I walk from my car, I bump into someone while mindlessly staring at my phone. I look up to see a women, a very beautiful women at that. She had a gorgeous head of red hair, tied up tight in a clean pony-tail and she had on a pair of black pumps, that matched her high class outfit. She turns to me quickly, but instead of the scolding I expected, she gives me a soft smile and says, "What is your name, Dear?" I was stunned by her beauty but managed to mutter out my name after a few seconds, "My name is Jeff Ma'am." I spoke softly and timidly as she giggled at my nervousness. She nodded, seemingly satisfied with my reply, and we parted ways. I rushed off into the theater, grabbing some popcorn and taking my seat just as the movie begins.
As I exit the theater, smiling with a bounce in my step after having seen the best movie to date, I notice the women again. She’s standing by my car waiting for me. I take a deep breath and walk over to her mustering every bit of courage I have to talk to her once again. "Hello Ma'am." She smiles and chuckles again at how nervous I obviously am. "Would you like to grab something to eat my Dear?", her voice soft yet firm. I nod quickly with a goofy grin on my face, and she smiles taking my hand in hers and slowly walking me over to her car. We drive for what seems like only a few minutes, stopping at some apartment building. I look at her a bit confused, to which she said, "Oh, I just need to grab a couple things Dear, before we head out." I nod and sat back in my seat, watching her walk away, following every step and every sway of her hips with my eyes. She turned just before walking through the door and motioned for me to follow, winking at me slyly before turning back around to head inside. Again I gather myself and get out of the car, cautiously following her.
We ride the elevator up, standing in complete silence. She looks at me a couple times and gives me that soft smile I've begun to enjoy so much. The doors open and she leads me down the hallway, my eyes fixated on her back, following the sway of her hips once more. She turns and opens a door, beckoning me inside. I follow without hesitation, my palms sweaty and my heart racing, trying to figure out if this is all really happening. After just a few steps through the doorway she turns to me, and without a word she takes two steps forward and places a hand gently over my shoulder inching closer, slowly shutting the door behind me as she presses her lips against mine.
She kisses me deeply as I nervously wrap my arms around her small waist, she inches closer and closer, grinding her body against mine. She leads me as we kiss to her bedroom, pushing me down against the bed as she stands over me, slowly taking off her top, exposing her chest to me. Walking forward she straddles my lap, kissing me again as I run my hands over her naked chest, massaging her breast firmly, circling the tips of my fingers around her nipples. She removes my shirt before pushing me onto my back, she reaches down between us gripping my now throbbing cock with her hand stroking slowly through my pants. She begins to undo them, pulling them down along with my boxers, smiling as she sees my hard cock pop out from the top. Wrapping her hand and fingers firmly around the shaft she starts to stroke, slowly at first. I rest my head back into a pillow as she strokes and she continues to undress with her free hand tossing her clothes to the floor. I lift my head and look at her as she kneels at the foot of the bed, slowly sliding my cock into her mouth, her warm soft lips wrapping around the head sucking and licking sensually. She sucks me hard and fast getting me closer and closer to orgasm with each pass. My body squirms lightly as she reaches up and drags her nails down my chest and stomach. She stops suddenly just before I am about to cum, smirking at me and gives me a little wink, "Close your eyes Dear" she says softly. I nod and close them and she puts a blindfold on me. I get a little nervous but picturing her beautiful eyes and lips I muddle through and wait to see what she has in store for me.
A slight shiver shoots through my spine as I feel her gentle fingers caressing my chest, gliding slowly across my skin, stopping briefly at my nipples. She rubs the tip of her finger in a small circle over the tip of them and I feel it begin to stiffen for her. She chuckles lightly and moves a second finger next to the other pinching the soft and delicate skin roughly pulling up as she does so. I let out a soft moan and squirm slightly beneath her, gritting my teeth and biting my lip and pinches and pulls harder and harder. Her fingers release my tender nipple as I let out a sigh of relief, her hand slowly continues down over my stomach to my cock, her finger sliding along its length to the tip and then back down the other side. She cups my balls lightly and begins to tug, softly at first, tugging more and more she wraps a shoelace, she must of had handy, around the stretched skin as well as the base of the shaft of my cock. She does so, so tight I can almost feel a tear forming in the corner of my eye. "Just be patient my Dear, this will all be worth it", she said as I felt her hands move from my genitals to my thighs, lifting and spreading my legs slightly as I feel her hips slide in between them. I squirm more unsure of what she has planned next, beads of sweat beginning to form all over my body as my mind races trying to figure out what's to come.
I feel something strange, something I've never quite felt before. Something pressing against my tight puckered ass, at first I thought it might be a dildo or maybe a strap on, No... this is something different. I feel it press more into my ass, stretching my hole as it slowly enters me, I squirm a bit and try to sit up but she places a hand to my chest and holds me down with an unexpected strength for a women of her size. She takes my hand and guides it slowly down from her chest to her waist as I feel something I had never expected to feel. It was her cock, stiff, long and thick, throbbing as the head of it was in my tight ass. I was shocked at first, unsure of what to feel or say, I was unable to move or say anything. She leaned down and kissed my neck as she continued to restrain my movement, moving her hips forward as her hard cock slid deeper and deeper inside me. Lifting herself up slightly she begins to pump her hips, sliding her big cock in and out of my sweet virgin ass. Fucking me slowly at first, picking up the pace with each thrust. Now pounding her hips into my ass she reached down and gripped my cock once again stroking furiously as she fucked me hard, our bodies rubbing against each other as we both got closer and closer to orgasm. This intense feeling, it was new to me, but I liked it. Her hard cock sliding in and out of me as her hand was wrapped tight around my shaft, I couldn't get enough. I got closer and closer to cumming until finally I felt her cum deep inside me as she moaned and screamed loudly, I couldn't hold it back any longer. I came hard moaning loudly as I did, shooting my hot cream all over my chest, panting and breathing heavy I laid back against the pillows once again.
She stepped back and began to clean herself off, getting dressed and walking off into another room. I laid in the bed stunned for a few minutes at how quickly and intense what had just happened had been. I got up finally, cleaned myself off and got dressed as well. I wandered out into the other room, still a bit dazed and confused. She turned to me and handed me a small piece of paper. Written on it was her name, her address, and her phone number. She smiled and gave me a soft kiss before saying. "You will do just fine my boy, although you have a lot to learn. Be back here tomorrow at precisely 5 pm and we will begin your training..."
END
Confession by Ganainm
I’d never been very imaginative about sex, really. Just the usual sort of missionary wham-bam-bam-thank-you-ma’am thing. Serial girlfriends, one night stands. Something was missing. Too much the Catholic.
The woman I’d been dating was clearly quite bored with my approach and I’m very grateful that she decided to do something about it. We lay in bed one evening and she took a book out of her nightstand and began to read to me. She read a passage that described a woman tying her lover’s hands to the frame of the bed and then blind-folding him.
Something was freed inside me and I said that sounded interesting. She said , “I’ve always wanted to tie someone up.” And so it began.
She bound me with silk scarves, my hands over my head, and then she wrapped another, darker scarf over my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing.
She began exploring me , touching me. I responded to her as I’d never responded to a woman before, with moans of pleasure rolling out of my throat. At one point I felt her warm, moist tongue slide along my inner thigh and I shuddered all over and moaned. She straddled my chest. I could feel her thighs pressing against my ribs and the leaned forward dragging her breasts across my mouth. I took each nipple between my lips as it passed and sucked at her, feeling her respond by pressing her wet pussy against me.
She rode me fiercely, her own cries calling out cries from me.
We finished with her straddling my face as I licked and sucked at her until she screamed out “oh, my God” and her body spasmed in her orgasm.
I was stunned. It was a revelation. Of course, anything that gloriously exciting and pleasant had to be avoided. Catholic, you’ll recall, so I soon stopped seeing that woman and pretty thoroughly suppressed the idea of repeating anything like what we’d done.
Until just a couple years ago, when I met a woman on line and we had a D/s flirtation. It opened up all the interest again and the almost physical need to be dominated. We met in person a couple of times and one evening she tied my hands behind me and applied clothes pins to my nipples, ultimately spanking me briefly. I loved it and again ran for the hills when it was over.
I’m full of desire, but afraid to lose myself. I want the experience very much, more and more as I participate in sl, but have yet to make the leap.
The woman I’d been dating was clearly quite bored with my approach and I’m very grateful that she decided to do something about it. We lay in bed one evening and she took a book out of her nightstand and began to read to me. She read a passage that described a woman tying her lover’s hands to the frame of the bed and then blind-folding him.
Something was freed inside me and I said that sounded interesting. She said , “I’ve always wanted to tie someone up.” And so it began.
She bound me with silk scarves, my hands over my head, and then she wrapped another, darker scarf over my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing.
She began exploring me , touching me. I responded to her as I’d never responded to a woman before, with moans of pleasure rolling out of my throat. At one point I felt her warm, moist tongue slide along my inner thigh and I shuddered all over and moaned. She straddled my chest. I could feel her thighs pressing against my ribs and the leaned forward dragging her breasts across my mouth. I took each nipple between my lips as it passed and sucked at her, feeling her respond by pressing her wet pussy against me.
She rode me fiercely, her own cries calling out cries from me.
We finished with her straddling my face as I licked and sucked at her until she screamed out “oh, my God” and her body spasmed in her orgasm.
I was stunned. It was a revelation. Of course, anything that gloriously exciting and pleasant had to be avoided. Catholic, you’ll recall, so I soon stopped seeing that woman and pretty thoroughly suppressed the idea of repeating anything like what we’d done.
Until just a couple years ago, when I met a woman on line and we had a D/s flirtation. It opened up all the interest again and the almost physical need to be dominated. We met in person a couple of times and one evening she tied my hands behind me and applied clothes pins to my nipples, ultimately spanking me briefly. I loved it and again ran for the hills when it was over.
I’m full of desire, but afraid to lose myself. I want the experience very much, more and more as I participate in sl, but have yet to make the leap.
The Toy by Lady Lauren
Bound and gaged the boy sat arms above his head, wrists pinned together in their place by his Mistress's worn leather cuffs. He could not see for the lovely padded blindfold prevented this; the boy could also not hear a sound for the sound proof ear muffs were doing their job. He sat helpless, waiting , yearning for Her touch, her scent, her pleasure.
She had instructed him to strip and sit against the wooden framed rack. Quickly and calmly she had cuffed him in place, in-fact put him in his place; that was the last contact he had with his lovely Mistress.
Before leaving ,She turned on the soft , melodic music and lit the fragrant candles. Her boy was in the spot she wanted him and she savagely eyed his body from the tips of his fingers , pausing at Her cuffs on his wrists, down his entire exposed body. Her inspection lasted a while , she was in no hurry.
"What was taking so long " he wondered. His anticipation was fast becoming a panic. He fidgeted as best he could.
She grinned and moved in, she knew he could not see or hear what she was doing and that greatly excited her.
She bent down and softly caressed his cheek , she felt him relax.
Her hand moved lower, running her fingers through his chest hair, letting her nail softly claw at his skin.
When she was satisfied he was at ease her firm hand made contact with his smooth cheek as the slapped echoed in the room.
He tried to with draw back but she grabbed him by his chin and pressed her cheek on his letting it make contact with the warm and quickly reddening skin of his face.
Satisfied he was getting excited she took off his ear muffs and whispered to him. "Your mine arent you, my toy to play with"?
He could only rapidly nod in agreement.
His breathing was hard and deep and his excitement grew at her choice of words. He so much wished to be possessed by her, mind and body.
He felt a searing pinch as her fingers grasped and toyed with his erect nipples Her fingers were replaced by the clover clamps and he groaned in agony and pleasure.
"These will stay on 15 minutes My little toy" she sternly said.
He ached to see her expressions to see her pleasure in his submission to her , but this was denied to him.
She stepped back and he could hear her opened the toy cupboard, he moaned.
Burn, stinging Her crop had stuck his inner thigh and that beautiful noise had filled the room, he tried to keep quiet.She hit him again, and again over and over; switching from one leg to the other. His skin was on fire , red and getting rippled she would leave Her mark on him this night.
When he felt he could hardly take anymore she instinctively stopped ,but the crop now was tapping softly on his cock and balls.
The pressure increased a little and His cock responded, growing hard with need.
"My little toy likes his cock played with" she stated, again he rapidly nodded. She bent down and he felt her take hold of his hard shaft .... groaning he thrust to meet her grasp.
"What a lovely cock you have and with that she slapped it.
The pain shot through his entire body, but she continued to grasp and now stroke it.
Gagged muffles were heard and he buck forward. She took off the gag , his drool running down his face. "What a mess you are My toy". He looked down.
His body was on fire, his balls were beginning to get sore , his cock throbbed, he needed to cum.
As if she could read his mind she asked " does My toy need release?". He nodded.
She uncuffed one hand, "Thank you Mistress" he softly said
She ignored this and commanded "Make yourself cum now!"
He complied a little reluctantly for he had hoped she would touch him more.
Stroking himself hard and thrusting hard he asked " Mistress please?"
" What does My toy want?" she asked. "Mistress please may I cum?"
She chuckled " soon pet".
He felt her fingers toy with the nipple clamps , and he paused his movement " Did I say to stop ?" no Mistress", he stroked again.
moaning and thrusting "Mistress I can't hold back, please?"
She undid the clamps and massaged his sore, tingling, nipples, the pain and pressure mixed with his self pleasure as he jerked her cock. She bent down again and kissed him hard on his dry lips; biting them she told him how well he had pleased her and sweetly reminded him that She always cums first .'Releasing him from the rack she helped him to the bed ,
He would need his energy to please her now.
She had instructed him to strip and sit against the wooden framed rack. Quickly and calmly she had cuffed him in place, in-fact put him in his place; that was the last contact he had with his lovely Mistress.
Before leaving ,She turned on the soft , melodic music and lit the fragrant candles. Her boy was in the spot she wanted him and she savagely eyed his body from the tips of his fingers , pausing at Her cuffs on his wrists, down his entire exposed body. Her inspection lasted a while , she was in no hurry.
"What was taking so long " he wondered. His anticipation was fast becoming a panic. He fidgeted as best he could.
She grinned and moved in, she knew he could not see or hear what she was doing and that greatly excited her.
She bent down and softly caressed his cheek , she felt him relax.
Her hand moved lower, running her fingers through his chest hair, letting her nail softly claw at his skin.
When she was satisfied he was at ease her firm hand made contact with his smooth cheek as the slapped echoed in the room.
He tried to with draw back but she grabbed him by his chin and pressed her cheek on his letting it make contact with the warm and quickly reddening skin of his face.
Satisfied he was getting excited she took off his ear muffs and whispered to him. "Your mine arent you, my toy to play with"?
He could only rapidly nod in agreement.
His breathing was hard and deep and his excitement grew at her choice of words. He so much wished to be possessed by her, mind and body.
He felt a searing pinch as her fingers grasped and toyed with his erect nipples Her fingers were replaced by the clover clamps and he groaned in agony and pleasure.
"These will stay on 15 minutes My little toy" she sternly said.
He ached to see her expressions to see her pleasure in his submission to her , but this was denied to him.
She stepped back and he could hear her opened the toy cupboard, he moaned.
Burn, stinging Her crop had stuck his inner thigh and that beautiful noise had filled the room, he tried to keep quiet.She hit him again, and again over and over; switching from one leg to the other. His skin was on fire , red and getting rippled she would leave Her mark on him this night.
When he felt he could hardly take anymore she instinctively stopped ,but the crop now was tapping softly on his cock and balls.
The pressure increased a little and His cock responded, growing hard with need.
"My little toy likes his cock played with" she stated, again he rapidly nodded. She bent down and he felt her take hold of his hard shaft .... groaning he thrust to meet her grasp.
"What a lovely cock you have and with that she slapped it.
The pain shot through his entire body, but she continued to grasp and now stroke it.
Gagged muffles were heard and he buck forward. She took off the gag , his drool running down his face. "What a mess you are My toy". He looked down.
His body was on fire, his balls were beginning to get sore , his cock throbbed, he needed to cum.
As if she could read his mind she asked " does My toy need release?". He nodded.
She uncuffed one hand, "Thank you Mistress" he softly said
She ignored this and commanded "Make yourself cum now!"
He complied a little reluctantly for he had hoped she would touch him more.
Stroking himself hard and thrusting hard he asked " Mistress please?"
" What does My toy want?" she asked. "Mistress please may I cum?"
She chuckled " soon pet".
He felt her fingers toy with the nipple clamps , and he paused his movement " Did I say to stop ?" no Mistress", he stroked again.
moaning and thrusting "Mistress I can't hold back, please?"
She undid the clamps and massaged his sore, tingling, nipples, the pain and pressure mixed with his self pleasure as he jerked her cock. She bent down again and kissed him hard on his dry lips; biting them she told him how well he had pleased her and sweetly reminded him that She always cums first .'Releasing him from the rack she helped him to the bed ,
He would need his energy to please her now.
Velvet Halls by Rex
"Velvet Halls"
The time was half passed eight, and the room was filled to bursting with mingling guests - two women adorned in gorgeous dresses, their hair up in plaits; stood drinking with posh friends. They seemed quite enamored with each-other, arms wrapped around waists, and subtle looks that would suggest their affections for one another. It was no secret that those two woman were a couple. If they were to sneak a kiss, the room would buzz with intrigue, distaste, and perhaps even jealousy.
"Could you get me another drink, please, love." Spoke one of the women sweetly with an outstretched, gloved hand, the empty cham glass offered.
"Just a second." The other retorted curtly as she continued to chat with an acquaintance. Clearing her throat, the first woman nudged the other's shoulder, as she passed. Strike one. The first woman shook her head and fetched herself another drink from the waiter across the room. Her eyes were cold, and her brows were arched as she listened to the conversation being had and sipped the frothing liquid in an irritated fashion.
"She drinks too much anyway." The second woman said with a slight chirp to her voice, as if she were clever enough to hide her voice amongst the crowd and get away with such a comment. But the first woman had honed in and was clearly displeased by what was said, making her way back over to the group and placing her hand rather gently upon the back of the second woman's neck; though her voice was not as gentle.
"I think asking you to refill my drink isn't-" She was cut short,
"Isn't exactly something that you need right now." The second woman sassed back with a wicked sneer upon her face, turning to her friends she continued, "She gets so grouchy when she drinks." The group seemed amused and wore devilish smiles and tittered in the background. Strike two. That gentle touch upon the neck tightened into a squeeze, making the second woman wince and swallow hard. The first woman smiled kindly, and nodded her head.
"You'll have to excuse us, I believe the excitements of the night have proved to much for her." And with that, the first woman took the champagne glass from her partner and placed it roughly in another's hand, turning on her heels and leaned so close that the second woman could feel her hot breath upon her ear, speaking in but a whisper, "There are no strike threes." Leading the other woman by the vice grip on the back of her neck, outside to wave a cab and go home.
---
On the outside, they seem like an ordinary couple, not unlike most lovers you'd see holding hands on the street. Bo was a curvaceous woman, with a generous bust and graspable hips. Dark eyes, and wavy apricot hair, an unconventional beauty to be sure. She was prominent in her field, an ambitious real-estate tycoon who had made a healthy living, leaving her free to spend her time frivolously if she so chose. Her partner, Claudia, had a more dainty, mousy figure with thin rimmed glasses that perched on the bridge of her petite nose. She had a shaggy black mane, usually tied up in a loose bun - and an obscure sense of style, though as an artist, expressed her individualism. She was a freelanced painter and had been Bo's submissive for over four years - but such things were unbeknownst to everyone but themselves and their small circle. You'd never know what went on behind closed doors - the rattling of chains and the cracking of whips within their velvet colored halls.
"Tell me again, darling. Tell me why you find the need to disrespect me, to talk over me, to disagree with me." Bo chortled, her head tilted ever so slightly, wispy bangs falling around her heated face which glowed dimly against the flickering lamplight. Claudia was on her back, naked, her hands and feet were bound and tied to each of the four bedposts - her groans and whimpers muffled behind the black cloth that was used to gag her.
Bo circled the girl, like a predator - the leather crop within her hand was dangled and brushed gingerly over her submissive's inner-thigh. Claudia spoke, but her words were inaudible - Bo feigned concern and bent forward a tad with her gloved hand cupping her ear.
"What was that, my girl?" She crooned, drawing that crop between the girl's thighs before letting it crack abruptly against the tender skin - a sadistic grin curling upon her painted, carmine lips. The tip of the crop teasingly pulled along the length of her slit before settling upon her clit in a most pleasing, yet uncomfortable manner.
Claudia groaned, her teeth clenching the material of the gag as her body trembled noticeably. She continued to try and express herself the best she could, but words were impossible to produce which simply added to her growing frustrations, as well as Bo's obvious amusement.
Bo hovered over Claudia and placed a gentle kiss upon the girl's forehead, combing her fingertips tentatively through the silken raven hair of her whimpering, pathetic, whore. That smile upon her face softened, masking her true intentions, until it lulled Claudia into a state of security. The girl made a few gnarled noises, attempting to speak again, but was quickly silenced by a uninhibited slap across her face. The girl stared wide-eyed, and confused, but Bo simply smiled and brushed the back of her naked hand across the reddened flesh of Claudia's cheek.
"You will soon be reminded of your place, love." She said with malice.
Claudia's discomfort was doubled by that of her growing irritation, pulling her head roughly away from Bo's tender hand. This act merely made Bo sigh, but the corner of her lip twitched as if she were trying to stifle laughter.
"You know I like it when you fight back, little flower." Her voice had taken on a softer tone as she stood, setting the crop upon the end-table, and made her way around the bamboo screen that separated the room. On the other side was a large antique trunk, with four-claw feet and handsome carvings. She tilted the lid and fetched within, what she had been searching for. Claudia heard the clamoring of buckles and immediately her face reddened and her body was given a jolt of adrenaline. Bo stepped into the harness, and fastened the buckles around her hips, tightening them until the leather hugged her tightly. She stepped around the screen then, but the room was dim and hot, making so that Claudia could only see Bo's silhouette with the light at her back.
At last, Claudia was able to see Bo's face, as she came nearer, craning her neck to perhaps get a peak at the faux cock that bobbed lewdly as Bo maneuvered herself and sat at the edge of the bed. Claudia, yet again, tried to jostle the gag about in her mouth to try and speak to her Mistress, but Bo drew her hand back as if she were about to strike the girl again. Claudia simply clenched her eyes closed, bracing herself for the impact that was to come. But none came. What had happened next was not quite what she had expected. She began to feel cool fingertips upon her breast, groping and tweaking them as gently, or as hard as Bo saw fit. The confusion on Claudia's face made Bo chuckle, her brows furrowed and her other hand, now cupped, came down roughly against the girl's crotch. Bo stroked the area fondly with her palm, before drawing back and letting her hand collide with the sensitive flesh yet again. Claudia would give something of a yelp after each, and would whimper knowingly when the next was to come. She counted five before she realized how aroused she was, Bo seemingly found out first, however, dipping her fingertips between the girl's glistening, damp lips and tutted, shaking her head with a malevolent grin. No words were spoken, but she replaced those fingertips upon the girls clit and began to make small circular motions - positioning herself between Claudia's thighs and lining herself up.
At last she spoke, "Tell me how badly you want this, my little slut." Her tone was firm and authoritative, as if she'd leave Claudia tied there all night without any sort of attention, if she did not hear what she sought after.
Claudia's eyes were teary, as if the stinging sensation in her groin had become almost unbearable - or perhaps it was because she was unable speak, or move for that matter. The girl spoke behind her gag, but Bo seemed unimpressed. "You'll have to do better than that, darling." She said with a smirk, drawing the cock away from Claudia threateningly.
Claudia writhed and rolled her hips, nearly shouting, the tears that had welled within the corners of her eyes slowly trickled down her flushed face. Bo heard what she was after distinctly, even if it were muffled, "Please, fuck me Mistress."
Bo placed a hand upon the girl's abdomen, splaying out her fingers right above her groin, so that she could draw down her thumb to toy relentlessly upon the girl's clit; while she lined the prick up with the other hand. It was only a matter of seconds before she had thrust her hips and had the girl impaled and moaning. Each shove forward was less gentle than the one before, causing the girl no small amounts of pain and pleasure. Bo's efforts had caused the girl to come and come again, until the stimulation was painful - trying her very hardest to position herself to make it harder for her Mistress to continue her endless assault on her throbbing clit. Bo seemed to pay no heed, and laughed breathlessly at Claudia's fruitless attempts to escape her binds.
"Once more for me, darling." Bo said in an exasperated voice.
That alone caused Claudia to cease her struggle and shout behind her gag, succumbing to yet another violent orgasm that sent her into a blurry-eyed, semi-conscious state.
Bo, panting, withdrew from the girl and learned forward to untie the gag - kissing the girl roughly upon her trembling lips.
"Good, girl."
The time was half passed eight, and the room was filled to bursting with mingling guests - two women adorned in gorgeous dresses, their hair up in plaits; stood drinking with posh friends. They seemed quite enamored with each-other, arms wrapped around waists, and subtle looks that would suggest their affections for one another. It was no secret that those two woman were a couple. If they were to sneak a kiss, the room would buzz with intrigue, distaste, and perhaps even jealousy.
"Could you get me another drink, please, love." Spoke one of the women sweetly with an outstretched, gloved hand, the empty cham glass offered.
"Just a second." The other retorted curtly as she continued to chat with an acquaintance. Clearing her throat, the first woman nudged the other's shoulder, as she passed. Strike one. The first woman shook her head and fetched herself another drink from the waiter across the room. Her eyes were cold, and her brows were arched as she listened to the conversation being had and sipped the frothing liquid in an irritated fashion.
"She drinks too much anyway." The second woman said with a slight chirp to her voice, as if she were clever enough to hide her voice amongst the crowd and get away with such a comment. But the first woman had honed in and was clearly displeased by what was said, making her way back over to the group and placing her hand rather gently upon the back of the second woman's neck; though her voice was not as gentle.
"I think asking you to refill my drink isn't-" She was cut short,
"Isn't exactly something that you need right now." The second woman sassed back with a wicked sneer upon her face, turning to her friends she continued, "She gets so grouchy when she drinks." The group seemed amused and wore devilish smiles and tittered in the background. Strike two. That gentle touch upon the neck tightened into a squeeze, making the second woman wince and swallow hard. The first woman smiled kindly, and nodded her head.
"You'll have to excuse us, I believe the excitements of the night have proved to much for her." And with that, the first woman took the champagne glass from her partner and placed it roughly in another's hand, turning on her heels and leaned so close that the second woman could feel her hot breath upon her ear, speaking in but a whisper, "There are no strike threes." Leading the other woman by the vice grip on the back of her neck, outside to wave a cab and go home.
---
On the outside, they seem like an ordinary couple, not unlike most lovers you'd see holding hands on the street. Bo was a curvaceous woman, with a generous bust and graspable hips. Dark eyes, and wavy apricot hair, an unconventional beauty to be sure. She was prominent in her field, an ambitious real-estate tycoon who had made a healthy living, leaving her free to spend her time frivolously if she so chose. Her partner, Claudia, had a more dainty, mousy figure with thin rimmed glasses that perched on the bridge of her petite nose. She had a shaggy black mane, usually tied up in a loose bun - and an obscure sense of style, though as an artist, expressed her individualism. She was a freelanced painter and had been Bo's submissive for over four years - but such things were unbeknownst to everyone but themselves and their small circle. You'd never know what went on behind closed doors - the rattling of chains and the cracking of whips within their velvet colored halls.
"Tell me again, darling. Tell me why you find the need to disrespect me, to talk over me, to disagree with me." Bo chortled, her head tilted ever so slightly, wispy bangs falling around her heated face which glowed dimly against the flickering lamplight. Claudia was on her back, naked, her hands and feet were bound and tied to each of the four bedposts - her groans and whimpers muffled behind the black cloth that was used to gag her.
Bo circled the girl, like a predator - the leather crop within her hand was dangled and brushed gingerly over her submissive's inner-thigh. Claudia spoke, but her words were inaudible - Bo feigned concern and bent forward a tad with her gloved hand cupping her ear.
"What was that, my girl?" She crooned, drawing that crop between the girl's thighs before letting it crack abruptly against the tender skin - a sadistic grin curling upon her painted, carmine lips. The tip of the crop teasingly pulled along the length of her slit before settling upon her clit in a most pleasing, yet uncomfortable manner.
Claudia groaned, her teeth clenching the material of the gag as her body trembled noticeably. She continued to try and express herself the best she could, but words were impossible to produce which simply added to her growing frustrations, as well as Bo's obvious amusement.
Bo hovered over Claudia and placed a gentle kiss upon the girl's forehead, combing her fingertips tentatively through the silken raven hair of her whimpering, pathetic, whore. That smile upon her face softened, masking her true intentions, until it lulled Claudia into a state of security. The girl made a few gnarled noises, attempting to speak again, but was quickly silenced by a uninhibited slap across her face. The girl stared wide-eyed, and confused, but Bo simply smiled and brushed the back of her naked hand across the reddened flesh of Claudia's cheek.
"You will soon be reminded of your place, love." She said with malice.
Claudia's discomfort was doubled by that of her growing irritation, pulling her head roughly away from Bo's tender hand. This act merely made Bo sigh, but the corner of her lip twitched as if she were trying to stifle laughter.
"You know I like it when you fight back, little flower." Her voice had taken on a softer tone as she stood, setting the crop upon the end-table, and made her way around the bamboo screen that separated the room. On the other side was a large antique trunk, with four-claw feet and handsome carvings. She tilted the lid and fetched within, what she had been searching for. Claudia heard the clamoring of buckles and immediately her face reddened and her body was given a jolt of adrenaline. Bo stepped into the harness, and fastened the buckles around her hips, tightening them until the leather hugged her tightly. She stepped around the screen then, but the room was dim and hot, making so that Claudia could only see Bo's silhouette with the light at her back.
At last, Claudia was able to see Bo's face, as she came nearer, craning her neck to perhaps get a peak at the faux cock that bobbed lewdly as Bo maneuvered herself and sat at the edge of the bed. Claudia, yet again, tried to jostle the gag about in her mouth to try and speak to her Mistress, but Bo drew her hand back as if she were about to strike the girl again. Claudia simply clenched her eyes closed, bracing herself for the impact that was to come. But none came. What had happened next was not quite what she had expected. She began to feel cool fingertips upon her breast, groping and tweaking them as gently, or as hard as Bo saw fit. The confusion on Claudia's face made Bo chuckle, her brows furrowed and her other hand, now cupped, came down roughly against the girl's crotch. Bo stroked the area fondly with her palm, before drawing back and letting her hand collide with the sensitive flesh yet again. Claudia would give something of a yelp after each, and would whimper knowingly when the next was to come. She counted five before she realized how aroused she was, Bo seemingly found out first, however, dipping her fingertips between the girl's glistening, damp lips and tutted, shaking her head with a malevolent grin. No words were spoken, but she replaced those fingertips upon the girls clit and began to make small circular motions - positioning herself between Claudia's thighs and lining herself up.
At last she spoke, "Tell me how badly you want this, my little slut." Her tone was firm and authoritative, as if she'd leave Claudia tied there all night without any sort of attention, if she did not hear what she sought after.
Claudia's eyes were teary, as if the stinging sensation in her groin had become almost unbearable - or perhaps it was because she was unable speak, or move for that matter. The girl spoke behind her gag, but Bo seemed unimpressed. "You'll have to do better than that, darling." She said with a smirk, drawing the cock away from Claudia threateningly.
Claudia writhed and rolled her hips, nearly shouting, the tears that had welled within the corners of her eyes slowly trickled down her flushed face. Bo heard what she was after distinctly, even if it were muffled, "Please, fuck me Mistress."
Bo placed a hand upon the girl's abdomen, splaying out her fingers right above her groin, so that she could draw down her thumb to toy relentlessly upon the girl's clit; while she lined the prick up with the other hand. It was only a matter of seconds before she had thrust her hips and had the girl impaled and moaning. Each shove forward was less gentle than the one before, causing the girl no small amounts of pain and pleasure. Bo's efforts had caused the girl to come and come again, until the stimulation was painful - trying her very hardest to position herself to make it harder for her Mistress to continue her endless assault on her throbbing clit. Bo seemed to pay no heed, and laughed breathlessly at Claudia's fruitless attempts to escape her binds.
"Once more for me, darling." Bo said in an exasperated voice.
That alone caused Claudia to cease her struggle and shout behind her gag, succumbing to yet another violent orgasm that sent her into a blurry-eyed, semi-conscious state.
Bo, panting, withdrew from the girl and learned forward to untie the gag - kissing the girl roughly upon her trembling lips.
"Good, girl."
The Assistant Part VIII Reparations by Lady Crissy
[Note: At the end of the last part of the story, aaron had made a mess on Miss Night's red leather paddle after a game of cock ping pong. And she wasn't very happy.....]
I sat, looking up at the boy and measuring in my mind a suitable punishment for the mess on my paddle. "Come closer, aaron. I'm going to beat your ass for being such as messy whore of a boy." I motioned to him with the paddle, and when he walked closer I pushed my chair a bit back from the desk. Turn around and lean on the desk, aaron, and keep the skirt up, slut," I ordered.
With a whimper and his face going bright red again, aaron turned and bent over, leaning on the desk. As he held his skirt up, his pretty ass was bare and totally exposed. I stood and stepped up to him, so that I stood on his left side. I put the messy side of the paddle to his ass and rubbed it on his bare skin, cleaning off the leather on his bottom. Before the moan he made was done, I pulled the paddle back and brought it down hard on his ass...SMACK!
The squeal made me grin. Ok, maybe he could make it up to me. I brought the paddle down again and again.. twice, three times... and kept going until his ass was bright red and the sounds that came from him were high and strangled, almost tearful squeaks. I took a moment to look at the paddle, now all clean and smiled, satisfied. I placed the paddle on the desk.
I looked down at aaron's trembling body, listening to his panting and reached over to smack his reddened ass hard with my hand. It was hot to the touch, and I put a good deal of force into that one smack. He yelped and his body spasmed as he lost it, cumming with a strangled scream as he realized what was happening. Before his body was done jerking he was apologizing over and over, a panicked tone to his voice.
"I am so sorry Miss Night, please trust me! Im so sorry!" aaron's voice took on a panicked, begging tone.
"To your knees boy, " I said, watching him slide to the ground, eyes lowered. I took a step forward and grabbed the boy roughly by the hair, pulling his head back so that his face was tilted up to me. He whimpered again softly. I smacked his face with my hand.
"Did you enjoy it, aaron?" I started, a menacing tone to my voice. "You enjoy releasing without permission?" I waited, seeing his eyes dart around.
"No, Miss Night. Please. I didn't at all," he stuttered out. I could see his eyes beginning to tear up.
I looked into his eyes for a moment, and I believed him. I let his hair go. "Clean up your mess and I will be back. Guess I have to get my own damn coffee today, " I said, stepping past him and walking to the door. "They say never send a boy to do a woman's job." I muttered and headed to the cantina, closing the door on aaron and his task.
---------------------------------
When I got back, aaron was at his desk, a much more composed aaron though the red mark on his face was still red. I sipped the steaming coffee as I passed, and was gratified to watch the blush and chagrin cross his face. I walked to my desk, inspecting the clean up job, and finding it satisfactory, sat down. I glanced at the clock then, not having realized how much time had passed.
I picked up the phone and dailed. When aaron picked up at his desk, I gave him instructions. "Call my favorite restaurant and make lunch reservations. Then call us a cab. We leave in 10 minutes." I put the phone down and sat back to sip the hot drink. A nice quiet lunch on the patio... a little public play. Now that might put me in the right mood to tackled that big merger contract I need to finish.
I picked up the phone again and hit one of the speed dials. A familiar voice answered. "Hi Monica! Yes, so good to catch up to you. I'm just heading out to lunch and wondered if you would like to join me."
"Oh yes, aaron will be attending us." I smiled and took another sip. Aaron is such a lucky boy.
End of Part VIII
I sat, looking up at the boy and measuring in my mind a suitable punishment for the mess on my paddle. "Come closer, aaron. I'm going to beat your ass for being such as messy whore of a boy." I motioned to him with the paddle, and when he walked closer I pushed my chair a bit back from the desk. Turn around and lean on the desk, aaron, and keep the skirt up, slut," I ordered.
With a whimper and his face going bright red again, aaron turned and bent over, leaning on the desk. As he held his skirt up, his pretty ass was bare and totally exposed. I stood and stepped up to him, so that I stood on his left side. I put the messy side of the paddle to his ass and rubbed it on his bare skin, cleaning off the leather on his bottom. Before the moan he made was done, I pulled the paddle back and brought it down hard on his ass...SMACK!
The squeal made me grin. Ok, maybe he could make it up to me. I brought the paddle down again and again.. twice, three times... and kept going until his ass was bright red and the sounds that came from him were high and strangled, almost tearful squeaks. I took a moment to look at the paddle, now all clean and smiled, satisfied. I placed the paddle on the desk.
I looked down at aaron's trembling body, listening to his panting and reached over to smack his reddened ass hard with my hand. It was hot to the touch, and I put a good deal of force into that one smack. He yelped and his body spasmed as he lost it, cumming with a strangled scream as he realized what was happening. Before his body was done jerking he was apologizing over and over, a panicked tone to his voice.
"I am so sorry Miss Night, please trust me! Im so sorry!" aaron's voice took on a panicked, begging tone.
"To your knees boy, " I said, watching him slide to the ground, eyes lowered. I took a step forward and grabbed the boy roughly by the hair, pulling his head back so that his face was tilted up to me. He whimpered again softly. I smacked his face with my hand.
"Did you enjoy it, aaron?" I started, a menacing tone to my voice. "You enjoy releasing without permission?" I waited, seeing his eyes dart around.
"No, Miss Night. Please. I didn't at all," he stuttered out. I could see his eyes beginning to tear up.
I looked into his eyes for a moment, and I believed him. I let his hair go. "Clean up your mess and I will be back. Guess I have to get my own damn coffee today, " I said, stepping past him and walking to the door. "They say never send a boy to do a woman's job." I muttered and headed to the cantina, closing the door on aaron and his task.
---------------------------------
When I got back, aaron was at his desk, a much more composed aaron though the red mark on his face was still red. I sipped the steaming coffee as I passed, and was gratified to watch the blush and chagrin cross his face. I walked to my desk, inspecting the clean up job, and finding it satisfactory, sat down. I glanced at the clock then, not having realized how much time had passed.
I picked up the phone and dailed. When aaron picked up at his desk, I gave him instructions. "Call my favorite restaurant and make lunch reservations. Then call us a cab. We leave in 10 minutes." I put the phone down and sat back to sip the hot drink. A nice quiet lunch on the patio... a little public play. Now that might put me in the right mood to tackled that big merger contract I need to finish.
I picked up the phone again and hit one of the speed dials. A familiar voice answered. "Hi Monica! Yes, so good to catch up to you. I'm just heading out to lunch and wondered if you would like to join me."
"Oh yes, aaron will be attending us." I smiled and took another sip. Aaron is such a lucky boy.
End of Part VIII
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