Cute Girls

Syracuse is Waiting

“This story is in the BDSM category for very good reasons. It deals with strong themes of female domination and non consensual sexual acts. If such material is likely to offend you then please find yourself another story.”

*

*Chapter 1*

I lay on the bed, completely naked, with the most fierce erection of my life and for the third time in as many minutes I tried to move. The sweat stood out on my brow as I strained every sinew but my muscles would simply not obey; it was as though I was bound with straps.

She watched with quiet amusement as she continued to undress and carefully folded her clothes over the back of the chair. If the effort of trying to move was great then the effort of trying to place her face was greater still. She exuded class and was a woman that I would have generally considered to have been out of my league but I definitely knew her from somewhere.

As her body was slowly revealed it did nothing to quell my obvious arousal; if I had to design my fantasy female she might well be the one. She had long, well toned legs, and stood about five foot eight. She obviously kept in shape but not at the expense of her desirable curves and my eyes were drawn to her impressive breasts with their dark upturned nipples.

Judging by her dusky complexion I guessed that she had some Mediterranean blood flowing in her veins and her large dark eyes and blue-black hair would seem to confirm this. As I watched she released her barrette and allowed her thick tresses to cascade down her back.

As soon as she was completely undressed she moved slowly towards me.

“An impressive cock, but then I knew you would have.”

Again, that cut glass English accent. The crude word sounded incongruous coming from her but I knew that voice and I dredged, in vain, my normally impeccable memory.

She stood beside me and looked down into my eyes sending an irrational tremor of fright through my body. In physical terms I was so much bigger, at least six inches taller and probably half as heavy again. Add to that the fact that I was fitter than most gym enthusiasts and had been well trained in unarmed combat techniques and I should have had nothing to fear but I had never felt so helpless.

“Are you afraid? You should be.”

There was a hint of amusement in her voice as she said this and then she slinked up onto the bed with an unhurried feline grace. She knelt, straddling my thighs, and the coolness of her skin made me realize just how clammy my own flesh had become.

Under any other circumstances having a woman as beautiful as this take hold of my cock would have been a dream come true but I tried to resist. I tensed my muscles, readying myself to throw her off, but the effort dissipated itself in a series of pitiful spasms. She could not quite close her hand around my erection but her grip was firm and assured as she slowly began to rub me.

I closed my eyes and tried to will my erection away but she had knowing fingers and, as she rubbed, she rippled them in a delicious kneading motion. We remained locked like that for a minute or two engaged in an unspoken battle of wills but it was clear that there could only be one winner. I felt my balls begin to swell slightly and knew that it would now be only a matter of seconds but she could read my body.

“Don’t come. Not until I tell you to.”

With those few words I was like a pan taken off the boil; something in me relaxed and she was free to continue.

I stared helplessly at her immaculate fingernails. They were coated with a clear varnish, obviously high maintenance, and she was now scratching gently at my shaft as she rubbed. The sensation was poised between pain and pleasure and it quickly brought me back to the edge but my torment now entered a new phase.

She raised herself over me so that her sex hovered above my erection and she used the sensitized head to stimulate herself. Everything about this woman was immaculate but her pubis seemed to have staged a rebellion. It was defined by a sharp triangle of black curls which had been allowed to flourish within their confines and, as she moved, they grazed maddeningly against my nerve endings. My body gave a series of tiny jerks as I sought to escape the irritating sensation but her smile told me that she was enjoying my discomfort.

My only relief came when, every now and again, she would permit a firmer contact between us letting me know that she was slowly becoming more aroused. Finally, she held my shaft still and allowed the head to slip through her labia where the heat was almost painful. My instincts made me want to sink deeper within but she held me at the portal as she used the tip to massage her clitoris.

She gave an almost inaudible groan which suggested, for the very first time, that she might be relinquishing the total control that she had demonstrated from the outset and it seemed like an involuntary surrender when she finally relaxed her leg muscles and allowed gravity to do its work.

She slid down onto me, accommodating my not inconsiderable length with ease, until my thighs were bearing her bodyweight. For a second or two her eyes remained closed and I quickly looked at my watch but I could not remember what time I had arrived. It seemed as though I had been erect for hours but there was no sign of flagging.

She opened her eyes again, placed the flat of her hands on my chest to brace herself, and then she slowly eased herself up. It seemed to take an age until she reached the pinnacle and then held herself there with just the tip of my cock holding me in place. She remained where she was, without strain, for a count of three and then she allowed herself to be gently impaled once more.

After that she set up an easy rhythm rising each time until I was almost in danger of slipping out and then a more determined descent as she ground her clitoris against my pubic bone. It went on for minute after minute, seemingly with no effort on her part, and I was brought to the brink more than once but each time I got there I felt something in me relax and I was back where I started. The problem was that my erection remained undiminished and what started out as a nagging cramp became more painful each time I was denied.

I searched for clues in her face, hoping to see some sign of an impending climax, but she smiled at me as though she could read all my thoughts. The only comfort I could take was from the faint sheen of perspiration that had formed in the valley of her breasts which suggested that there was, at last, some exertion on her part.

When the end came it was sudden and unexpected. There was no speeding up, no cries of exultation, she simply came to rest on my thighs and worked her pelvis in a lazy circular motion. I felt the heat and moisture and a tightening around my shaft which developed into a series of irregular spasms which slowly faded away.

Afterwards, she looked at me contemplatively as though making up her mind and then, adopting a ‘why not?’ expression, she slowly lifted herself free of my still needy erection.

I expected her to get up from the bed but, instead, she eased her way forwards until her knees were pinning my shoulders and her sex was poised just inches above my face. Her labia were swollen and still distended allowing me a gynecological view of her opening which still glistened with juices. I was unable to look away and, as I watched, she began to tease her clitoris with a single finger.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

In another time and another place I might have agreed with her but now, as I watched her coax her clitoris back to an excited plumpness I felt nothing but revulsion.

“Smell me.”

She set her wet finger under my nose and I could not help myself. I breathed in the heady scent.

“Now taste…”

She slipped the tip of her finger past my lips and I found myself suckling it, my mouth slowly filling with the ripe flavour of her.

“I bet none of your women have ever tasted as good…now lick me.”

Her self confidence was frightening as she withdrew her finger from my mouth and then parted herself before allowing her weight to settle. My nostrils were pressed closed beneath her as she clenched my head firmly with her thighs and I opened my mouth instinctively only to have it filled with the damp hair of her pubis.

I wanted to throw her off, to bite her, to do anything except what she wanted but my tongue seemed to have a mind of its own as it eased its way through the thicket to where a tiny rivulet had already begun to flow. The taste was fresher, more palatable, and I gave thanks that I had not been able to come inside her; I had never tasted semen, mine or anyone else’s, and I had no wish to start.

Now that my tongue was inside her she demonstrated less self control. She writhed over me enticing my tongue to go deeper and it was only these indiscriminate movements that allowed me to take fleeting, but shallow, breaths from time to time. It became suffocatingly hot as she squeezed her thighs more tightly in an effort to bring on her second climax and I was little more than a passenger.

At some point it became clear that my straining tongue was not, by itself, going to be enough to bring her off and she started to grind herself against my face in an effort to provide her clitoris with the required stimulation. For a full minute my head was wrenched from side to side as she selfishly worked out her own pleasure but then a spurt of moisture straight into my mouth heralded the onset of her orgasm. That first gush was followed by others that I was forced to swallow but I was glad to have it over with.

At the very peak she had cried out, though I only perceived it as a muffled nonsense as her thighs cut off my hearing, but now, as she relaxed a little, I could hear that her breathing had become ragged. She was in no hurry to dismount and her juices continued to fill my mouth until, finally, and with not a little effort, she got up from the bed on to her distinctly unsteady legs.

It took a second or two for her to compose herself and than, without another word, she walked from the room leaving me to try and produce enough saliva to clear the persistent taste of her from my mouth. The distinctive sound of a wine cork being pulled simply added to my torment.

Now that she was gone I tried to get my muscles working again but the only ones that seemed fully functional were those in the area of my groin. Even now I was still at full erection and I began to wonder if she had somehow slipped me a drug. Following that train of thought I tried to piece together the sequence of events that had brought me to this place.

It had started that morning. The phone had rung just before the alarm was scheduled to go off at seven a.m.; before I could speak a female voice, her voice I now realized, had used just three words.

“Syracuse is waiting.”

After that the line went dead. Given the nature of my profession I instinctively felt that something was not quite right but when I tried to call back I found that the number had been withheld.

I was still pondering it on my way into the office but nothing would come to mind. The day passed quickly but, by mid afternoon, I found myself looking up at the clock at ever more frequent intervals. It was irrational behaviour. I was self employed and chose my own hours and I had nothing planned for that evening but nevertheless I kept checking the time.

At five p.m., unusually early by my normal standards, I decided to call it a day. As soon as I got into the car I knew it was a mistake. The rush hour traffic was almost at a standstill and I was soon caught in it. I took to the side streets but others had had the same idea and I was slowly drifting further out of my way. Soon I was in unfamiliar streets but I knew that my mental compass was leading me in vaguely the right direction.

Then I saw the hotel and, in spite of my self-assurance, I suddenly felt a need to check my directions. I parked up outside and walked into the foyer and was immediately approached by the concierge.

“You are a little late, but you are expected. Suite five on the tenth floor.”

For a second or two I was bemused and I was about to put him right when it crossed my mind that I might have had an engagement that I had forgotten about. It was not unusual for my clients to want to meet in out of the way places and I might have arrived here on auto pilot; after all, my subconscious had been trained to cover lapses in my conscious mind.

“You were expecting me?”

“At five-thirty, driving an Aston Martin DB6.”

My 1968 car was distinctive enough and to his mind he had the right man which only served to intrigue me further. I left him standing as I made my way to the lifts and then along the plush corridor to Suite 5 anxious now to get to the bottom of it.

I rang at the bell and, a few seconds later she had opened the door. My immediate thoughts were contradictory. I was convinced that I knew her from somewhere but a name would not come to mind and surely I would not forget someone so stunningly beautiful. My eyes quickly took in the desirability of her body, sheathed in a blue dress of raw silk, before she stepped aside and ushered me in.

I followed her into the living area but, with her back still to me, she motioned towards the bedroom.

“Don’t speak. Get undressed, lie on the bed, and don’t move” and then, almost as an afterthought, “I want to see a little more life in your cock.”

I felt embarrassed that my burgeoning erection should have been so obvious but she was clearly mistaken about me. She obviously believed that I was some sort of gigolo and some mischievous part of me was almost tempted to play along.

That seed, once planted, seemed to take root of its own accord and I found myself in the bedroom taking off my clothes. Less than two minutes after entering the suite I was lying down naked with my cock fully erect. It was outrageous, irrational, behaviour even by the standards of my chequered past, but there was no stopping myself.

I lay and waited until she appeared at the door and, at that moment, I stopped being led by my cock. My instincts screamed at me that something was wrong and I tried to sit up but I found that I no longer could. She could see the turmoil in my face and the tiniest hint of nervousness that hovered about her immediately evaporated. She moved into the room and examined my prone body as she walked around the bed.

I wanted to ask so many questions but my brain would not form the words and then she started to undress…

I examined every detail again and again but I could still draw no firm conclusions. The only way I could account for my present state was the use of drugs but how had they been administered and when?

I had just turned my mind back to the question of where I had met her before when she came back into the room. She was still naked and she had completely regained her poise.

“Are you ready for round two? Now what shall it be?”

As she said it she took hold of my cock and gave it a gentle squeeze, reassuring herself of its firmness.

“Impressive…but I think we’ll save it until later.”

With that she mounted the bed in a single lithe movement to straddle my face once more but this time facing down my body. From inches away I could smell the slightly stale scent of her earlier arousal and I could see that her sex had still not fully recovered from her previous exertions. Her labia were an angry pink and stood a little proud of the sodden mess of her pubic hair.

Again, I tried to gain some control over my treacherous limbs but, strain as I might, my body refused to co-operate.

“I want you to concentrate on my clit. Let’s see how good you are.”

My head was tremoring with effort but I was brought to stillness as her tight globes descended plunging me into darkness. She let most of her weight rest on my forehead which had the effect of tipping my head back slightly and bringing my mouth to bear exactly where she wanted it.

Her pubis was cool and damp but as she slowly spread herself, opening herself over my mouth, I could immediately feel the heat of her renewed excitement. I wanted to resist with every fibre of my being but a voice deep inside was telling me that the sooner I started the sooner it would be over.

I put out my tongue but, from my awkward position, it was a long stretch to reach her clitoris and I could only lick fleetingly like a snake seeking prey.

“Very good…just like that.”

She relaxed a little, settling even more heavily, and my nose was driven deeper into her cleft where it was immediately pinched closed.

Whilst every move seemed natural I sensed that it was all premeditated and I felt a cold chill. At a guess I would say that she was a little younger than me, about twenty-five perhaps, but she was displaying a frightening maturity. Even the angle of my tongue seemed carefully contrived so as to catch her juices and to channel them down my throat.

She kept still, allowing me to do all the work, but it was growing hotter by the moment. Her buttocks seemed to radiate heat and sweat was stinging my eyes.

“That’s nice…stretch your tongue a little more…come on! Try harder!”

I did as she asked but my whole mouth was aching and my lungs were screaming out for air untainted by her ever deeper scent.

“Don’t stop! Oh Yes!”

Her composure was gone. She began to move her hips as she rode out her climax on my battered features and still her juices flowed. I had never known a woman to be so wet and now my face was liberally smeared.

As before she remained where she was, whilst she recovered, knowing full well that I was struggling for breath.

“Your technique could do with a little work but I see no reason why we shouldn’t begin to make use of you straight away.”

With those cryptic remarks she lifted herself from me and then, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, she moved down the bed, turned herself around, and eased herself down onto my erection.

The pain was almost immediate. I had been kept aroused beyond all normal limits and I grimaced as she started to take her pleasure for a fourth time. Fortunately, her physical strength was not the equal of her sexual greed and, after a few minutes, she lifted herself free.

She gave a sigh which suggested that she would be happy to wait for another occasion and then she disappeared into the bathroom taking her clothes with her.

I lay there listening to the shower run and then, finally, she reappeared fully dressed and made up.

“Give me ten minutes start.”

And then she was gone.

Exactly ten minutes later my erection wilted and I was able to get up from the bed. My instinct was to chase after her but somehow I knew she would be long gone. Instead, I took a shower and tried to clean myself of the stench of her.

Back in the lobby a reasonable bribe for the concierge elicited the information that the suite had been taken on a long term booking and paid for using a corporate credit card. A second more sizable bribe provided me with a copy of the transaction slip.

*Chapter 2*

The following morning I was in the office early. I subscribed to several company search agencies and it did not take long to discover that the company which had paid for the room was a brass plate in Luxembourg. It was frustrating having to wait until the Grand Duchy’s civil service came to life but by mid-morning I had established that the company was one hundred percent owned by a trust based in the Bahamas . This was good news. I had a regular contact at the Bahamian registry who was not beyond taking a bribe but, once again, I had to allow for the time difference.

I was satisfied with my mornings work and I turned my attention to the mail but I had no sooner opened the first envelope than the phone rang.

I arched against his probing finger.

“Yes … Oh, God, yes!” I groaned, “Take it.”

I scrambled onto my hands and knees, buried my face in the pillow and stuck my bottom in the air. I wiggled my ass at him and giggled.

“As if that tight little bottom wasn’t tempting enough,” he laughed.

I moaned as he licked my hole wet and writhed with impatience as he worked a huge gob of lube into my tight entrance. My hips were already surging back and forth when I felt the head of his cock lodge against the opening of my anus. I groaned as I was riven apart by his flesh. The swollen head of his shaft popped into my hot passage and the ring of my anus snapped shut around his throbbing flesh. He held still for a moment that felt like eternity, allowing me to savor the presence of his turgid flesh inside my body. And then when my muscles had stopped fluttering and the panic that always marked that initial entrance had disappeared, he leaned his weight into my body and drove his cock deep into my waiting flesh.

And then, I was finally his.

*****

His hot cum sprayed over her back and ass, leaving a sticky white trail down her back and ass. He then quickly undid the restraints she was in and pulled her to the floor with Him, spreading His legs wide and placing her between them, His hand on her forehead and around her waist as He slowly rocked her, the tears from her eyes dripping down onto His arms. Tears of surrender, tears of pain, and tears of joy freely flowed from her.

He stood up and once again lifted her into His arms, carrying her to the jacuzzi and gently placing her in it, a low moan escaping from her as the pulsating water soothed her aching body. He slid in behind her once again, holding her close to Him, placing soft kisses along her cheek and whispering how proud He was of her, how well she had done, and how much she had pleased Him that night. A smile crossed her lips at His words and she sunk deeper into His chest, her world complete.

Mrs. Orton moved towards cherie and wiped each of her nipples with a wet cotton pad, then moved away. Nicholas returned with a small box, then opened it and let cherie see what was inside. Cherie’s eyes were filled with tears as she was biting down on her lower lip, the pain from her brand still uppermost in her mind.

Nicholas picked up some small metal instrument and placed it over one nipple…then clicked it and instantly it shot through her nipple followed by a silver bar. Nicholas attached an end to the small bar, then did the same to her other nipple.

The Master stood back for a moment and looked as His lovely whore. “Well done Nicholas, thank you.”

Nicholas smiled, “Thank You Master” and then walked away.

The Master moved closer to cherie and took the small box that Nicholas had handed to Him just before piercing the slut’s nipples, removed a jewel encrusted hanging decorated with “MW” in diamonds on both, then fastened them to each nipple’s bar. “There little whore; your nipples are properly attired. Never remove these, and as for cleaning, Mrs. Orton will instruct you. You’ve done well, I am pleased.”

Mrs. Orton gently unfastened both wrist and ankle straps and led cherie back to the large home….

“I shall show you how to clean and take care of the brand and your nipples little slut, and you are allowed one hour to rest before returning to The Master.”

cherie shivered, not in cold, but almost in shock from all that had happened to her since coming here, and not even able to remember how or when she arrived. Everything seemed to be blurry and dreamlike to her. She knew there was no turning back for her now, she was duly branded and the property of the Master, a Man she knew only as Malcolm, and nothing else. She still did not know if any of her sisters were here, or others. She knew that all her life she had been prepared for this, as her mother was before her, and her mother before her. All slaves owned and bred to be bought and used for The Masters…

cherie was owned, and would never be allowed to forget that, or ever freed. When the time came and The Master desired, she would be bred for the next generation to be trained. In spite of all the pain and so many unanswered questions overflowing her mind, she knew she was “at home” now, and ready to serve and please The Master in everything He desired of her. Just those thoughts filled her slut body with deep arousal, making the pain of everything endured earlier slip to the back of her mind as new thoughts and emotions filled her…

by angel, continued in part 7

Nicholas moved towards the slut and took her hand and led her to another room. cherie gasped when she saw the cages there. Nicholas led her to one and motioned for her to enter it. She did as she was told and crawled into the cage, then noticing the other cages held the male slaves who had used her the evening before. Once inside, the door was shut and a padlock placed on it.

“Little whore, you are My property as are the other slaves in the cages beside you. None of you are anymore than the animals I own, just property to be treated as I see fit and desire. You had all better get used to these cages, for you will be in them for long periods of time. Many of My friends will come here from time to time and select one, two or all three of you for their use. At all times you MUST comply with every demand, every desires, no matter what it is. Do you understand?”

Cherie stammered out, “Yes Master, I understand.” The Master nodded and spoke, “Very well sweet whore, the other slaves here will tell you of some of the things expected of you. In order to keep those fuckholes well used and ready at all times, Nicholas will release some of you in order to be fucked, either by him or perhaps a stable boy. It matters not who fills those holes, for you are simply property now, to be used by all.”

Cherie nodded in understanding, and then turned her head, her eyes fastening on the slave’s cock in the cage next to her. It was hard and so big and cherie felt her cunt throb, and licked her lips. She wanted it so much, then smiled, and knew it was just a matter of time before she would have it….

By angel continued in part 10

A thumb dips down to gather your copious juices. I paint your rosebud with them, making it glisten. Another dip for more of your flowing cunt, then up to rest upon your anus. I spread you cheeks and tease over your ass. It opens and closes till just the tip is in. With my free hand I lay another smack on your ass feeling the tensing of the sphincter on my thumb, then the instant relaxation, and just a little further entrance. On your next push back my thumb disappears into your asshole. Your stop, hanging, savoring the feel, waiting for the right time to resume. Patiently, I weaken my hold, yielding you your head, knowing that you are preparing for more.

“Yeah. Feel my thumb in your asshole. Feel it filling you just as my cock fills your cunt.” You can hear my smile “There’s more you can have.” My other thumb rests solitarily, halfway in the circle of your ass cheek, letting you feel your options, and awaiting your nod. My cock moves slowly in and out of your cunt, rocking an inch or two enjoying the languid pace.

>> ———-Mmmm…the delicious feel of being filled…. of your rocking cock buried deep in my pussy, the warmth from my still smarting ass cheeks…. the incredibly naughty feel of your thumb in my asshole…. I sense that you are waiting for me to go on, and I start to move my ass backwards, relaxing it in order to accommodate whatever you are going to do…. grateful that you are giving me the choice, but aware that you are in control….. “Give me everything you’ve got…I want to be full of you” I pant. > I feel your anus opening. My thumb circles inside your asshole, slowly, leisurely stretching it more. I dip my other thumb down to touch my cock, and take some more juices from your gushing cunt, coating it all around, getting it slick. I cross the perineum and place the back of one thumb against another. Still circling your asshole, the tip begins to enter. Just before the knuckle, I rest and wait. My cock is halfway into your pussy…your juicy, gushing pussy, also waiting.

You catch your breath then softly hiss “yessssssssss”. Carefully, but determinedly you press back to the knuckle, then a little further as it disappears. You tighten a bit to engulf then, but continue to press……press to the very base. I hold your cheeks, and begin thrusting my cock again, holding your finger fucked ass still. My grip loosens and you start to rock with me. Your squirm forward across the twin knuckles, then backwards, as if trying to take in more than the two digits can offer. Both thumbs start to swirl in rhythm with you lascivious fucking - fucking your horny, greedy cunt; thumb fucking your horny ravenous asshole. I can feel the pressure building in my cock. I am greedy as well…. greedy for every liquid squeeze. My senses heighten, alert to both my tension and yours, if I time this right, and I am certain I can, something interesting will happen.

“Yes Amy fuck back and wiggle that cunt and ass. Take me in. Take my cock in your juicy cunt; feel me fill your ever so deep in the delicious pussy of yours. I love it. I love the way your asshole fucks my thumbs and slaps against my hands. I want you to touch us. Touch us where my cock fucks past your clit. Stroke it all. My cock, your pussy, your clit. Show me what a greedy slut you are.”

>> ———–Filled beyond belief, almost crazy with lust, I do as I am bid, and reach down with one hand to stroke the place where we are joined. The way your cock is fucking my pussy leaves my clit exposed, I finger rapidly, stopping only to let one finger slide up the length of your cock as you fill me up again, then going back to my clit. My whole being is focused on what you are doing; I realized that I love the feel of your thumbs in my ass, the feel of being used to satisfy your needs…My cunt is spasming, my nipples are hard as rocks as my tits, hanging, are swinging almost violently back and forth. I wiggle and buck my ass back, wanting every last inch of you inside me. You have fucked me into a state where it is no longer possible for me to cum, but I don’t ever want to stop….. although something in my instinct tells me you can’t last much longer, as your measured strokes are getting increasingly frantic…..

> “Yeah. That’s what I want. I want you to play over my cock and your clit, feeling the point where I enter you. I am getting so close - so close to cumming in you. I know you want my cum, every way you can get it; and you shall have it, every way I can give it.”

You nod weakly, too weary do anything but accept. Too wanton to do anything but seek every last remnant of pleasure. Your fingers spread just a little to take the pleasures of your clit, my cock, our junction. My thumbs press down just little, tightening your pussy against my cock. The turbulence in my cock shudders through me. I am close, so very close. I abandon all control over myself and yield to the exquisite rush of ejaculation. I hang poised, ready to shoot my juice into you.

I abandon all control save that one thread that unites it all. I buck back, then thrust savagely forward shooting deep into your cunt. You respond with you own taut grip on my cock. Your asshole tightens, as well, then eases open exhausted. Your fingers laze near the joining of my cock and your pussy. This is it. I buck back again, out of your cunt. Not wanting to lose me, you thrust back. Three of your own fingers disappear inside you and your palm presses upon your clit. My thumbs pull out of your ass, and my cock thrusts on and in to your open anus - spurting as it thrusts deeper and deeper, slickening the channel.

You catch your breath, then push back, your fingers expanding your cunt walls. Your asshole tightens again, milking my cum. The last drops shoot forth and I weaken my hold. We rock slowly there for a minute. Consciousness returns and I realize that we are both still letting loose with animal guttural moans. We gently part from one another, you falling forward limply, me collapsing onto my heels. A small puddle of juice (your? mine? more likely ours) forms on your anus and drips from your cunt, icing over your clit.

Leaning forward I kiss the cheeks of your ass, then send a breeze out between my lips onto you. Kisses follow your spine to your hair. My chest rests upon your shoulders, my cock in your crack. You roll off the pillow and we lay spooning. We doze off and the last words you hear are “Thank you. Thank you dear Amy. Thank you for all that you are - sweet ……and slut ……and always so sensual.”

Your long, sexy manicured fingers, nervously fumble at the wrapping. You hurry, glowing, like a little girl with a special birthday gift. After removing the wrapping paper, you hesitate, take a deep, deep breath, wave one delicate hand in the small space between your breasts and chin to move the now humid-feeling air about your face, (hot with the heat arising from your excited body), and contemplate; procrastinating long enough to re-sense the excitement in your limbs and the pleasantly tingling electricity in your nipples. Then, you lean back, place the package on your legs, then stretch and cross them in front of you, clenching your now wet, pussy lips. Then you slowly lift the cover and peer inside.

There, you see a fancy, delicate envelope with a message. “Open First.” It says! Under the envelope you see an assortment of boxes of different shapes, sizes and colors. The anticipation builds as you run the delicate envelope under your nose and whiff traces of my exotic cologne inadvertently left there. You know that scent well, and you close your eyes and breathe deeply, your chest heaving and your voice barely sighing, as you enjoy the erotic reminders that it brings.

Confused and impatient…wanting desperately to reveal the treats in the assorted boxes, while also wanting so desperately to know what message the envelope brings, you stand for a moment and nervously pace, to-and-fro. Do you follow my directions, or do you go off on your own, ripping and clawing as fast as you can through the assorted treats? You finally decide to calm down, and follow directions. Ahhhhh Sweetness,you are learning to take direction so well aren’t you?

Again, you fall to the floor! You open the envelope marked “OPEN FIRST,” and slowly read it…

“Sweetness my sexy submissive one,” it reads. “Enclosed, you’ll find an assortment of trinkets and clothing that I’ve purchased especially for you. They are for our next rendezvous, Friday evening. Enjoy my dear and know that I am envisioning you at this very moment, imagining how beautiful you look and how excited you’ll be and looking forward to our date, when you’ll get the best reward!!!! Now, pour yourself a glass of wine and then remove all of your clothing. Then, you may begin!

You hurry to your wine rack and select your favorite Champagne. You rush to open the bottle, but get annoyed and flustered when you cannot swiftly find your cockscrew. You finally find it, but not before mumbling a few choice epitaphs for the delay in pleasure this miss-placement has caused you.

You open the warm, bottle with a loud POP and the released aroma wafts across your nostrils. Having inadvertently shaken the bottle on your rush to find the corkscrew, some of that warm elixir also oozes, swiftly and furiously from out of the bottle, the sticky, warm, liquid, soothingly flowing down over your delicate fingers clenched tightly around the bottle’s neck.

First trying to prevent useless loss of the champagne, but then getting very, very naughty, you lick the warm, champagne oozing out of the bottle. Your thin, sexy tongue licking up the neck in long, long, sensuous strokes, then just the tip swirling around the opening, tasting the sweet, fragrant champagne, savoring its bouquet.

Then, without much thought, you lower your pouty, red lips around the neck, deep, deep over the neck, deep into your little mouth, imagining that the bottle is my cock…closing your eyes and imagining, dreaming…fantasizing, eroticizing, naughtily acting out the scene. You feel the warm juice flowing into your mouth and down your delicate throat and you lightly shake the bottle to intensify the foamy effect. You imagine that it is my cock filing your mouth with jizz!

You reach under your skirt, and feel for your clit, and slip two fingers deep into your pussy realizing that you are absolutely soaked! The pleasure is immense, and you bend your knees, and spread your legs, stroking those naughty fingers in and out of your wet box, both pleasing yourself and spreading creamy pussy juice onto your fingers! But then, you remember the gifts and you suddenly stop sucking the bottle and pleasuring yourself, suddenly realizing that you’ve lustily allowed nearly one-fourth of the champagne to flow down your hungry, throat!

You fill a crystal wine glass with ice, then swiftly poor champagne into the goblet, over the ice…too swiftly Sweetness, for it fizzes once again, fizzes over the rim and down the stem, drenching your dainty fingers along with the shiny table top.

With both hands, you quickly pull your sweater over your head and throw it to the floor. Then you run your hands through the spilled liquid and begin rubbing it on your breasts and nipples. The champagne is cold and sticky, your nipples, warm and stiff, and it doesn’t take very long, before the erotic stimulation charges your entire body! Getting more aroused by the moment, you gently lift one breast to your waiting lips and lick it, swirling your tongue over your pink nipple, tasting the salt from your body along with the sweet bliss of the savory nectar.

Then you begin to lick the sticky champagne from your fingers…the same fingers you minutes earlier, removed from your sweet pie. You lean your head back, close your eyes, hold your fingers high over your head and slowly drop them into your waiting mouth…inch-by inch you slide them between your wet lips. You savour the sweet champagne and your bitter love juice at once and enjoy the contrast…sucking your fingers deep into your mouth, sucking all the assorted nectars from your fine feminine fingers! Then, you suddenly realize that you are getting quite tipsy already and that the treats await!

You rush back to the parlor carrying the champagne glass in one hand and the now half-empty bottle in the other. Setting both on the coffee table, you hurry to disrobe, eager to start. As you stand, you kick off your conservative heels, then reach behind you, unzip your herring-bone skirt, step out of it and fling it aside as well, nearly stumbling as you do, from the alcohol beginning to dull your co-ordination.

You now stand alone and naked, but warm and glowing. You slowly caress, first, your slickly, shaved pussy. Yes, it’s soaked! Then you run both hands over your tight pert ass, standing on your toes to flex those long, lean legs. Then you run your hands under your ripe breasts, and over your nipples…twirling your palms and fingers around and over those rigid, pink bullets until they throb and point skyward. “There! Ready,” you say out loud and fall into a heap once again on the carpet.

Now you reach for the top box. You open it to see a single, beautiful, widely blooming long-stemmed red rose, and a tiny note. It hits a romantic cord in your heart, and fawning, you reach to lift the rose from the box, taking it by the stem but carelessly prick one finger on a large thorn.

You gasp in surprise, dropping the rose to the carpet, and hurriedly stick your wounded finger into your mouth, sucking the warm, tangy blood, and whimpering in slight pain. With the finger in your mouth, you reach again for the rose, more carefully this time, and bring it to your nostrils, breathing in the sweet aroma, both eyes closed, for several long moments savoring its sweet, fruity scent. Finally opening your eyes, you reach for the tiny note.

“Ah my beautiful Sweetness,” it reads, “This flower signifies your beauty and fragility; your delicacy and femininity and its rich red hue your passion and intensity. All commodities that I find in such short supply in most women, but that I find in you in ample abundance. I suspect however, that you’ve begun to partake of your wine, and that you may have cutely pricked your finger on its thorn. The thorn, my dear represents my strength and masculinity and the domination that I breathlessly wield over you, and which you enjoy so much. You be my delicacy and I’ll be your rock! Now, my dear, pour yourself another glass of wine, and proceed.”

You set the rose down on the floor beside you, and take up the champagne bottle once again; pouring half of what remains in the bottle into your glass, then you lift the second box out of the carton. You gently lift the top of this 2nd box and see an elegant purple velvet folder.

You gently open one fold of the velvet to reveal a choker necklace of virgin-white pearls and another small card. You set the card aside, and excitedly lift the strand of exquisite pearls from the package. The pearls loosely but erotically slide through your long slender fingers as you pass them adoringly from one hand to the next while admiring their gleaming, delicate, white beauty contrasting against your blazing red nail polish and your toned and tanned skin. You open the card.

“Sweetness,” the card reads, “I hope you are enjoying the pearls, while delightful, they are no match for your beauty or delicacy! Still, they have special significance. 1st, never to be covered by your clothing, but rather, displayed prominently on your sexy neck, they represent that part of you that you display to all but I; to all who see you only as you want them to see you, pure and innocent, refined and ladylike.

However, they also represent a special signal to me. My appetite for you is insatiable; my plans for you, erotic! Wear them only if you give yourself secretly to me; if you are willing to submit your trust, your desires, your mind and your body to my imagination; to my possession. Now, in the privacy of your home, make your decision. Do you wear the pearls knowing that special significance and signal your intent with each time they adorn your rapturous body? Do you live out your fantasies, or do you remove them now, from your shapely neck and hunger for passion forever more?

You hesitate momentarily; warily recognizing that to wear the pearls means that there is no retreat. What to do? Delaying, you take up your glass. Tilting your head back, you nervously gulp down what champagne remains in the goblet, pouring the nectar between your tiny, soft, lips. A small trickle dribbles down your chin and neck, steaming… sizzling on your hot skin as you contemplate your decision. A vision of you in my arms comes into your minds eye. You see yourself feminine and vulnerable totally naked in your imagination, but trustingly wrapped in the warm cloak of my possession and desire!

You set your glass down and again lift the strand. Then you loosen the clasp, hold the gleaming strand to your throat while raising your chin high and reach behind you. You lift your silken hair from the nape of your golden neck and re-tighten the clasp. They fit superbly, and sit snug and fashionable on your glorious neck.

You unconsciously finger the strand of pearls around your charming neck. The cold sensation that the pearls give off is in stark contrast to the heat arising from your excited skin. Your mind might be cloudy from the bubbling champagne, but your commitment is clear and unwavering. You are mine!!!

A tiny satisfied and resigned smile finally escapes your lips and you lean over and pour the remainder of the champagne into your glass, then set it once again upon the coffee table at your side. You reach for the third box.

Slowly you lift the lid from box number three. Underneath you see black crepe paper covering something delicate and instantly recognize this gift as an item of clothing. You slowly open the crepe paper wrapping to reveal neatly folded, French nylon, thigh-high stockings….naughty black thigh-highs, Sweetness! The kind only the naughtiest and sexiest of women dare wear in public. And with each sexy gift, you are feeling naughtier and naughtier!

You carefully take one small sip from your champagne, then a second, larger gulp for courage, then carefully, but shakily stand, woozy now, from having drunken more than your usual fill of alcohol for one evening, but caring not, your inhibitions are floating away along with the cobwebs in your head! Carefully, you lift the ultra sleek stockings from the thin container, and delicately unfold them. A small card falls to the floor.

You bend to pick it up and read aloud…”The legs of a goddess should be beautifully adorned…however, I want those creamy white thighs exposed to my unpredictable touch. Try the stockings on my dear.”

You fall in a heap on the sofa, and lying on your back, naked ‘cept for the pearls, you roll the hose, then slowly pull one stocking over your tiny foot, over your delicate ankle, over your shapely calf and slowly, ever so slowly, ever so erotically, up over your delicious thigh where the elastic band snaps tightly and snugly, warmly hugging your creamy white flesh. Then you hurriedly rush to do likewise with the second stocking.

The sensation of the silk over your slickly shaven, shiny skin is exotic, and after adorning your legs with both, you cannot help but continue to run your hands up your thighs, over your wet pussy, then up your tight stomach, over your heaving chest, over your pink, pointy, throbbing nipples, and over your swan-like neck, feeling the pearls just once and recalling their significance before continuing to run your hands up, up though your silken hair…a shiver runs up your spine and you shudder, stretch, and squeeze your legs together.

Then you close your eyes, lie back and spread your legs. The fingers of one hand slip into your hair; the fingers of your other hand slip into your slick, moist pussy. Slowly you slip a long index finger into your slit…deep, but ever so slowly in, and then, ever so slowly out! You begin to naughtily writhe on the sofa. The hand in your hair, furiously twirls one long golden strand into your mouth. The hand in your crotch electrifies…but then you once again remember the gifts, sit up and slide to the floor, girlishly excited once again, and now clothed only in the pearly necklace and the thigh-highs.

You reach for the fourth box. This one has the shape of a shoe box…You open it, and that’s what you find. But not ordinary shoes…no Sweetness, for my imagination is never ordinary. No, these shoes are five-inch, black, ankle strapped stiletto pumps. “Come FUCK me” they cry out Sweetness! And you know I will!

You eagerly slip them on, and instantly you feel (of course), five-inches taller, but more importantly, ten-degrees bolder…sexier by the inch! Every muscle in your legs and ass tighten and stretch. My how marvelous you look! You rush to the hallway mirror and twirl on your new, spike heels, turning your ass to the mirror, while you stand teetering on your toes, admiring your firm backside and long, exotic legs! There is nothing quite like the sight of a beautiful and excited woman, and you meet that description! You giggle and rush back to the parlor. Your mind is spinning out of control now with playful, naughty exuberance!

You lift the 5th box. This box contains a magnificent silk skirt, but oh so short and oh so shear! It is made of white, imported silk, pleated, but with a gorgeous frilly, black ribbon along the hem. Two thin gold chains hang from a loop on the right hip, around your waist, dangling slightly lower on the opposite side. You step into the sexy skirt, and pull it up, over your eager hips.

The oh so short and sexy skirt; barely, just barely covers the tops of your thigh-high nylons. The soft, while material, coolly rubs across the back of your delicate, uncovered thighs and ass, tickling you lightly.

You rush once again to the hallway mirror, your pace quickening with each gift and with each drop of champagne! You stare at the naughty Sweetness in the mirror, now grinning greedily from ear-to-ear. How hot you look. Adorned as you are, your legs and ass are magnificent, and you know it! The black hem ribbon serves to mesh with and hide the tops of your stockings, although just barely…and although exceedingly shear, the white skirt serves to masque your naked thighs and ass…that is, it does so in incandescent light! The kind of light found in your home! Little do you know that under the black-lights of a nightclub, it grows totally translucent.

Eager to see what else awaits, you rush back to the parlor and lift your champagne glass to your lips. One small sip remains. You gulp it down hungrily. You woozily run a finger around the rim of the glass and then suck the finger into your saturated mouth, sucking the last of the sweet champagne from your sexy flesh before pulling your finger from your sweetly puckered lips with a loud POP! Now dressed in the skirt, the naughty French stockings, the blazingly hot stiletto heels and the virgin white, pearl necklace, you reach for the 6th box.

This one contains a pink lace top. You rush to slip it over your head. The material is sheer, and the neckline plunges deeply between your breasts, and on your back, nearly to your ass! Although quite tight otherwise, the lapels contain multi-layered bundles of the delicate material that serve to hide your heaving breasts and pleadingly sensitive nipples. The fine lace, rubs gently across your straining breasts, exciting your senses!

Once again you rush for the hallway mirror, your to-and-fro pace now frenetic! Your look excites and frightens you in the same breath. You look absolutely stunning! Hot and fuckable my dear Sweetness. But never have you dressed for public display, and left so little to the imagination…never have you dressed leaving so much of your secret wonders exposed to public view and private touch!

But the exhibitionist side of you excites you, even as you keep it secret, doesn’t it Sweetness? You begin to fantasize. In private you often envision yourself, dancing in front of a crowd! Slowly removing one item of clothing at a time in one of those predominantly male, strip clubs…shedding your clothing…exposing your hot and steamy body to the view of many, sexy, pleading men…who desire and hunger for you. Men who beg you to shed your clothing for their pleasure…reaching for you, with arms and fingers outstretched, as you indiscriminately writhe, wriggle and sway for their pleasure and yours. In your imagination, you cum to their unbridled attention and the discomfort in their loins only you can cause.

Yes, that vision now excites you…an unfulfilled fantasy that burns in your yearning mind. You begin to caress your body in all those special spots, just like you envision yourself doing on stage in that fantasy. The outfit you wear allows easy access to all your pleasure zones…easy access for you at this moment and easy access for me on Friday…and as you day dream in utter enjoyment, touching your electrified body as only a woman can, you come to that realization…you’ll be easily exposed to my manly, greedy touch.

As you gaze at the sexy reflection of the naughty you, fondling yourself in the mirror, you recognize that this outfit would be ideal for that fantasy, and secretly resolve to add this outfit when you fantasize of this strip-club scene, forever more. But you quickly snap out-of-it. That scenario will have to be for another time. You rush back to the parlor, for the last gift awaits.

This box is another of those thin square boxes that you started with. You open it impatiently, and see….a pearl-adorned, thong-like panty. You lift it from the box. The waistband is made of frilly pink silk and elastic. But the thong that will rest between your ass cheeks and pussy lips is made of one long strand of black pearls, each approximately one-quarter inch in diameter. And from that strand, hangs dangling, like a light-chain, a four-inch strand of eight, larger pearls.

Curious, you step into the thong, and pull it up, under your oh, so short skirt, and over your smooth ass. It fits, oh so tight, and the cold pearls rest between your once again soaking pussy lips. The dangling, larger strand rests gently between your legs, delicately serving to both hold your legs apart, and tickle your edible thighs!

You start to rush for the hallway mirror once again, and instantly realize the secret of this gift. With each stride of those beautifully, long and sexily adorned legs, the thong-like strand of pearls, slides up and down along your lips, pressing tight against your clit.

“Oh, My,” you groan and suddenly stop short in your tracks. You start to walk purposely towards the mirror once again, and feel the dangling, larger strand, trapped between your thighs, and slipping into your soaking pussy as you walk. You quickly stop again, and repeat, “Ohhhhhhh, My!!”

You start to walk again, and realize that with this gift, your walk is made more seductive, far more seductive…but more importantly your pussy now aches for relief…for the constant rubbing and pressure of this nasty thong has you at the height of ecstasy! Your mind is dizzy and warm from the effect of the cool champagne, but your body is intolerably begging for relief.

You stand in front of the hallway mirror. You lean one hand on the wall under the mirror, and bend your legs. The strand in the crack of your ass and between your pussy lips slides tight and aggressively along your clit. You fall to your knees on the floor, and reach to press the dangling pearls into your pussy! You clench your legs and roll to your side…squeezing the pearls between your soothingly satisfied lips. Then, you feel it…welling up from the depths of your soul…your orgasm begins to build, slowly but steadily…you roll to your back…your hand now pulling tightly on the strand along your clit….

…you writhe, you roll, you shiver and you shudder…your legs grow tense, you arch your ass high off the floor, and pull ever tighter on that delightfully slippery strand…it cuts between those soaking wet lips, and rubs roughly on your clit…you clench your pussy against the pearls buried deep inside you.

“…Ohhhhhhhhhhhh” you begin to groan, then you begin to whimper!!!!! Your orgasm builds, your heart pounds. Your sensitive skin is on fire and your mind is reeling. Your hips rise and fall and with each rise, you pull tighter and tighter on that strand rubbing against your clit. “Oh, Yes, Ohhhhhh” you moan as you force the larger pearls deep into your soaking tunnel of love. Hmmmm, you moan, you bite your lower lip. Your pussy is drenched beyond utter belief, your clit throbbing, you yearn for relief…and then…you explode! Wave after wave of passion and pleasure rushes through your flesh and bones….warm, foamy, female, froth flows uncontrollably.

“Oh Michael, you bastard!! What do you do to me?” you scream at the top of your lungs to no one but yourself, as you fuck yourself madly, still shivering in the throes of a massive orgasm that goes on for minutes!

Finally, slowly, ever so slowly it begins to subside, and your pace slows and halts, all the tension within you slowly leaving your body! For several long moments, you lie on the plush carpet, your gleaming body, still shuddering…still panting, but now spent. Snug. Excitement ebbing, sheer relaxation begins to overtake you. With your hand still resting between your legs and wearing your naughty outfit, you close your eyes and fold one sexy arm over your forehead. In a moment you fall deeply into an angelic, trancelike sleep!

In the darkened office of a club downtown, a tall, dark, sinewy man leans back in a plush leather chair, and throws his feet up on the desk in front of him. He takes a deep drag on a superb Cuban cigar, exhales and then purses his lips, turns the cigar in his fingers and stares into space. Then, although no one is present ‘cept himself, he speaks aloud. “You have no idea what’s in store for you Friday, Sweetness,” he says to a sultry vision in his head, “imagine what’s to come Sweetness! And be prepared.”

“To be continued… Next chapter. Michael takes Sweetness out on the town and then just “takes” her! ”

“Now my sweet, you may answer. Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And, of course should you forget again, I’m sure we can be most inventive with your new jewellery.”

“Sir, I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

“Good.”

“Sir thank you for your kindness. May I be of service to you now?”

“I think you may, I wish you to bend over the end of the horse and spread your legs. Shall I need to tie you?”

“Oh no Sir, I have learned my lesson.”

“I think you may have. Prove me wrong, though and you will be punished.”

Helen bent over the sloping end of the vaulting horse and, wrapping her arms around the leather, spread her legs. Marcus stepped up to her bottom, presented for his pleasure and took hold of the base of his rigid cock. Taking a moment to open the lips of her pussy, he took a deep breath and then thrust deeply into her. His thick cock stretched her aching pussy, filling it and triggering the rippling spasms that heralded her orgasm. She sobbed in pleasure as he thrust deep and hard, taking her violently, the tears soaking the leather.

Marcus plunged in and out of her pussy, feeling the oily caress of her aching pussy. A particularly deep thrust and she was gone, tumbling into orgasm, her pussy squeezing against his cock in a long slow caress. Her whole body convulsed and she swooned limply against the horse. Marcus slid his hard cock out of her dripping pussy, and began to slide it along the cleft between her buttocks. The slippery fluid made the dark rosette between her buttocks slick and shiny as, realising what Marcus was about to do, Helen reached back and pulled the cheeks of her bottom apart. Marcus poised with his cock head pressed hard against the tight ring of her anus and then thrust hard. The feeling of Marcus pushing into her rectum forced a soft groan of surrender from Helen’s lips and she convulsed again. This time Marcus made no attempt to hold back and spurted hot ropes of slipper cum into the depths of her bowels. Spurt after spurt of hot cum splashed inside her and Marcus slowly softened, slipping out of her bottom.

Helen could feel the slimy trickle of Marcus’ sperm as he helped her to stand and took her gently in his arms.

“You have been a good girl this evening. I think you have learned your lessons very well. Go up to our rooms and run yourself a bath, I shall be up in a moment to bathe you before we go to bed.

Helen walked sedately to the stairs, her back straight as she displayed the stigmata of Marcus’ love for her. Within she was gleeful at the prospect of his hands pleasuring her as thoroughly as they had punished her. She had experienced his punishment and reward before and knew that the pain was a small price to pay for his tender caresses. Besides, she loved her servitude to him.

Tags: Fetish, Story