Cute Girls

Neighbourly Relations Ch. 05

One slight problem with our arrangement for Sunday evening was that I didn’t actually own a video camera. Not that I’m complaining, of course – I would more than happily have paid twice what I did down at Dixon’s that Sunday morning for the chance to capture her beauty and her submission on camera. So there was a definite spring in my step as I returned home that morning, already beginning to try and plan the details of what I was going to put Jane through in our little movie later that day.

When I got back to the building, I met my new neighbour, Alison, on the steps, walking back in with the “Independent on Sunday “newspaper and a pint of milk. She smiled thankfully as I held the main door open for her, looking casually sexy in dark jeans and a baggy white t-shirt. We walked together up the stairs to our floor.

“You had fun with your friend yesterday?”

She phrased it more like a statement than a question, and I was thrown – panicked even. What did she know? How had she found out? What did she think?

“Excuse me?” I spluttered.

“Your friend, you know – the dark-haired woman on your doorstep dressed like she was on the pull? You’d think a man would remember something like that, especially after she goes inside with him.”

She had a deliciously frank way of speaking, I had to give her that. I couldn’t help smiling.

“Oh her, yes. Right. Jane – she lives at number nine, actually.”

It occurred to me that Alison might have actually heard Jane’s cries of passion as she climaxed yesterday. They were pretty loud. Well, what the hell if she did? We were both consenting adults, after all.

“Been shopping?” she asked, pointing at the Dixon’s bag as we reached our floor.

“Yes… New video camera.”

“Nice…” She turned her key in the lock and pushed her door open. “Well, you and your friend have fun with that.”

She winked at me and then disappeared into her flat, shutting the door before I even had time to realise that I hadn’t mentioned Jane having anything to do with my purchase of the camera, nor would I have done.

That Alison was turning out to be a very intriguing woman indeed.

But it was Jane who I found all the more intriguing, of course, and beguiling. I spent most of the rest of the day trying to work out where best to place the camera – I couldn’t afford a tripod as well, so it was just going to have to sit on the table – and how to set out my little amateur film set.

I managed to have it all worked out relatively quickly, and having my plans in place with so many hours still to go before my leading lady arrived only meant that I was all the more excited as I counted down the minutes until six o’clock. I could of course simply have phoned her and gotten her to come up right away – she would have come, no doubt about that, but I’d said six o’clock and that was that. I’m the sort of guy who likes to stick by his arrangements, once he’s made them.

Eventually the hour came, and I was half-mad with desire and anticipation, leaping out of my chair and waiting by the door as soon as I heard the sound of her feet on the landing outside. She was still knocking on the door as I opened it, surprised that I was there so quickly and then grinning, pleased to see her Master once more.

It was hot and muggy weather out today, and she was certainly dressed for it, even though we of course would be going no further than the confines of my flat. All she wore was an orange bikini-top, a tight little denim miniskirt and light brown strappy open-toed shoes.

“You said I wouldn’t be wearing it for very long,” she explained confidently, not yet quite deferring to her role as the meek little slave girl. “So I decided I may as well not wear very much.”

I nodded approvingly, standing aside to let her in and then giving her denim-covered behind a playful little slap as she entered.

“Ow!” she yelped, grinning.

“You look like a slut,” I told her.

“Thank you sir,” she replied proudly. However, after a moment her smile faltered a little.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing really, it’s just…”

“Yes?”

“Well… I met that woman on the stairs, just as I was coming out of my flat. She was on her way out somewhere.”

“What woman?”

“The new woman in number ten. Alison.”

Ah, the delightful Miss Nash once again.

“Surely you weren’t embarrassed about her catching you with nearly nothing on?” I teased. “It’s none of her business, after all…”

I have to admit though I did enjoy the idea of Jane being caught in the slutty little outfit that was doubtless supposed to be for my eyes only.

“It’s not that,” she told me. “It’s what she said.”

I was definitely intrigued now.

“Oh?”

“We said hello to each other, and she introduced herself, said how she’d just moved in… Then she looked at me sort of oddly, and said – ‘I hear Ian in number eleven has just bought a new video camera’. And then she… She winked at me. And told me to ‘have fun’. Ian, what does she know?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the whole thing. Also, the image of Alison dropping such hints to Jane was a delicious one – I was getting some devilish thoughts about what those two girls would be like taken together… Mmmmmmm… Oddly though, I somehow couldn’t quite picture Alison being the willing little submissive, not like Jane.

“She saw me coming back in with the camera this morning, after I’d bought it,” I explained, trying to reassure her.

“You bought a camera especially?” Jane asked, aghast. “I thought you’d already have one…”

“No expense spared – don’t worry about it, honestly. Anyway – she saw you coming in here yesterday, and you know how you were dressed then. She probably just assumes… Well, assumes that we’re doing what we are – two consenting adults having fun. Does it bother you then?”

As I asked this last question I approached her, suddenly sticking my hand up between her legs under her denim skirt and feeling her roughly through the thin, skimpy panties she was wearing.

“Does it bother you?” I continued. “One of your neighbours knowing what a little slut you are? Seeing you dressed like that, and like you were yesterday, thinking what a little hussy you must be, going upstairs to be “fucked” like a bad little girl?”

Already she was wet, and I pressed two of my fingers against her clit through the clammy material.

“I don’t think it bothers you at all,” I told her. “I think you love it, don’t you?”

She nodded, sighing and half-closing her eyes.

“I do,” she confessed.

“You do what?”

“Love it… Love being such a bad little slut…”

I removed my hand and slapped her behind again.

“No, you’re still missing something bitch!”

Suddenly she remembered.

“Sir! I love being a bad little slut, sir…”

“Better.”

I left her for a moment, going over to the window and drawing the blinds shut. I switched on the lights, completing our secluded little studio set-up. It occurred to me that on neither of her two previous visits to the flat for submission had I closed the blinds – some lucky enthusiastic pervert across the road could have watched it all, although I doubted it.

Picking up the video camera, I switched it on and aimed it at her, watching as she regarded it with barely-concealed excitement on her face. I placed my thumb on the record button, ready to begin our own little kinky movie.

“Ready to degrade yourself further by becoming a porn star, slut?” I asked her eagerly.

“Yes sir!” she enthused.

“Honestly, such a little whore. What “would” your mother say?”

Instead of seeming embarrassed at this, she simply grinned. I pressed my thumb down on the button, and began to record.

“Okay then,” I told her. “Here we go. You’re on camera now, the star of the show. Smile for us.”

She smiled and posed alluringly as I ran the camera slowly up and down her body, concentrating on her lovely legs and of course those barely-concealed breasts, which still looked red and sore from the beating they’d received the day before, as well they should. I zoomed in on them, before zooming back out a little and concentrating on her face.

“Introduce yourself, slut,” I demanded. “Tell us who and what you are.”

She was a natural at this, and needed little prompting. Again, I suspected that she was now at last living out one of her longest-held little fantasies, the pretence of ultimate porn star degradation.

“I’m Jane,” she told the camera lustily. “And I’m a bad, bad little slut. I’m very lucky though, as I have a wonderful Master to punish me for being such a little whore and make sure I’m put in my place.”

Wonderful, absolutely wonderful. I was hot and wanted her already.

“I think we should show them what a hot little slut you are,” I told her. “Turn around and bend over.”

She did as commanded of course, and I crouched down to get a good view with the camera as that tight little denim skirt – that couldn’t possibly have been a regular part of her wardrobe, she must have purchased it specially – rode up high over her behind and exposed the damp knickers of hers, which turned out to be red. I zoomed in on the thin, wet material, the evidence of her wanton lust.

“You’re so wet,” I told her. “You can’t even control yourself, can you slut?”

“No sir,” she admitted as she stayed bent over, pretending to sound miserable about it.

“This is why you need to be punished,” I explained.

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

“You may stand.”

As she stood I set the camera back down on the table, carefully making sure it was positioned and zoomed out correctly to be able to get a good view of the ‘main stage’ I’d elected upon. In the wall at the end of the living room, quite high up towards the ceiling, was a small metal hook. Set into one of the main beams of the building, it was quite strong enough to hold her weight – I’d already tested it myself earlier on. Usually a picture hung on it, but that had been removed and the bare hook was large enough to be able to hold a bind to tie her.

But she knew none of this yet, of course. I went and stood by the hook.

“Come here,” I told her.

She followed me to the wall, looking up at once at the hook above her, knowing almost certainly what it was for. As she looked up, I looked down at her wonderful cleavage, and realised at once that the bikini top was actually the perfect bond with which to tie her, and without saying a word I moved behind her, unclipping it and letting it fall to the ground. My hands drifted around to her breasts, and she winced as I massaged her sore nipples between thumb and forefinger, pressing down against her breasts with the other parts of my hands.

“Nice?” I asked.

“Yes,” she lied, pushing herself against my touch. I grinned, removing my hands and slapping her breasts quickly.

“Ouch!” she yelped.

“Quiet!” I warned her.

“Sorry sir.”

I leaned down and picked up the bikini top.

“Against the wall,” I told her, pushing her forward so she was facing it.

“Hands up,” I added, placing my own hands under her arms to force them upwards. “Stretch.”

Her wrists came up to either side of the hook – perfect. Taking the top, I placed the short linking section between the two cups over the hook, then used the straps either side to tightly bind her wrists together, leaving her hanging against the wall. She was stretched quite far, the muscles in her arms tensed and taut.

“Shoes off,” I told her, looking down and seeing that her high heels were allowing her to still stand properly on the ground.

“But…”

Smack!

A firm one, no longer playful, against her backside, and having the double effect of pressing her sore breasts against the wall as she flinched forward.

“I said off!” I exclaimed, smacking her once more for good measure.

“Yes sir,” she said compliantly, lifting her feet and wriggling them out of the shoes. As they fell from her feet I kicked them to one side. Without the heels the hook was just too tall for her to stand against, and she was on tiptoe, her big toes just barely touching the carpet, her body swaying just slightly. Perfect.

“Nicely strung up,” I said, more to myself than to her.

“Yes sir.”

There was a delight, an enjoyment in her voice. Picking up one of the ties I’d taken out of the bedroom to use on her, I placed it around her head, blindfolding her, and this time not caring how tightly I pulled it, enjoying her little gasp as I jerked it into a firm knot at the back of her head.

I left her then to walk back across the room to the camera, looking through the viewfinder to make sure I had a good view. It was perfect – the image of this beautiful woman in only her short skirt hanging against the wall, blindfolded… Oh yes, this would certainly be a home movie to savour.

“How’s your backside today, slut?” I asked her as I moved back across to stand at her side.

“Sore sir,” she replied.

“Does it hurt when you sit down,” I asked, excited.

“Yes, sir. It’s terribly uncomfortable.”

“You’re not complaining I hope.”

She shook her head.

“Oh no sir!” she replied, with genuine feeling. “I love it sir.”

“I know you do, you little bitch.”

Smack!

“Oh…!”

I moved behind her and reached around to undo her skirt, pulling it apart and letting it fall to the ground. I let my fingers stay in front of her for a moment, pressed against her flesh by being between her and the wall, then sliding down to play with her again through the ever-damper material of her panties…

“Red is a very slutty colour, isn’t it?” I whispered to her as I pressed her knickers against her wetness.

“Yes sir,” she admitted.

“A slutty colour for a slutty girl, eh?”

She nodded again.

“Yes sir.”

I thrust myself against her, still clothed, in a parody of fucking her from behind as I worked her more firmly with my fingers, and she moaned deeply, leaning back against me, still unsure of herself however as she hung from the hook, not certain of her space and how well she stood. I allowed her to enjoy the sensation of being touched for a moment or two longer before I moved my hands and hooked my fingers under the waistline of her knickers on either side of her hips, kneeling down on the floor and pulling the panties down with me, sliding them across her silky-smooth legs and off over her feet.

“Oh look,” I said, looking up at her wonderful little arse. “It seems your pretty little backside matches the colour of your panties…”

“Yes sir…” she breathed, seemingly too aroused to think of much other to say than that.

I moved to the side again, eyes fixed on that burning red little backside of hers, ready to inflict some more pain on it.

Smack!

“Oh…”

Smack!

“Uh…”

“I thought I told you to be quiet?” I reminded her.

She bit her lip as I delivered further smacks, the fiery red of fresh punishment adding to the previous soreness of her cheeks. Much as she tried, however, she couldn’t hold back the moans as I smacked her still further, and her breasts once more pushed against the wall.

Again though, we were simply repeating ourselves. I gave her only twenty smacks and ignored the rest of her cries.

“That should do for now, I think,” I told her. “Just to remind you that you can’t be a slut without expecting some punishment…”

“No sir,” she whispered. Then: “Thank you for teaching me, sir.”

“That’s all right. Don’t forget to wiggle that pretty little bottom for all your fans. They want to see how red it is.”

She did as commanded, trying her best to wiggle when pinioned on a hook, pressing her backside out toward the camera as much as she could. I went back across the room and picked it up, zooming in on her backside as I moved toward her.

“Tell us how it feels,” I told her.

“It stings horribly,” she confessed.

“But it excites you, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yes. I love it… It…”

“Go on.”

“It makes me wet, sir.”

“You really are such a hopeless little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir.”

“You don’t even care that all the viewers are going to see how you were punished, had your bottom spanked like a little girl, trussed up there, helpless. In fact, that excites you even more, doesn’t it?”

“It… It excites me that they think I’m such a little whore, sir.”

In all likelihood the only ever audience for the tape would be the two of us, of course, but the imaginary future audience had become a part of this particular game now, making it more exhilarating for both of us.

I placed the camera down again, this time in a new position on the side of the sofa, propping it up with a book under the front of it, aiming it carefully to make sure it took in a lovely close-up shot of the main of her body, from her head down to her knees, this time from the side-on angle.

“This is the part of our little film I think our viewers are really going to enjoy,” I told her delicately.

Another item I had brought through from my room when preparing for the filming earlier in the day was one of her vibrators – the lurid green and gold one, as it was larger. This I picked up now, moving behind her.

“Spread your legs.”

Spreading them meant that even her big toes no longer touched the ground, and she was left swinging from the hook, even more beautifully desperate and helpless than she had been before. As she gently swung there, I moved the vibrator up between her legs, nuzzling the tip of it against her damp sex, without switching it on.

“You know what this is?” I asked her.

“My vibrator sir?”

“See how the slut knows the barest touch of it so well?” I pointed out to the camera. “You’ve gotten so used to fucking yourself silly with it, haven’t you?”

“Yes sir…”

“Wasting all your energy stuffing this up yourself in your bed, allowing yourself countless orgasms, you dirty little girl.”

“I’m sorry sir.”

“Yes, well, sorry isn’t good enough. You’re going to pay for it now.”

Suddenly, I slid the vibrator up into her, as far as it would go, only the last inch or so sticking out between her legs. There was a dial on the bottom controlling the speed – I turned it a little anti-clockwise, feeling it give and click as it switched on, on the very lowest setting. It rumbled slowly and deeply inside her, and she gasped. She doubtless wondered how on Earth this was any form of payment or punishment. Well, she didn’t know the half of it yet. She gave out a low, guttural moan of satisfaction.

“Close your legs,” I told her, holding the vibrator in place with a single finger pushed up against the base as I stood back up. She obeyed, locking the vibrator in place as her thighs closed around it. Doubtless it could still slip out, however, so I warned her:

“Tense your muscles around it. I’m going to take my finger away from it, and if it slides out there’ll be hell to pay. You understand?”

“Y… Yes sir,” she gasped, clearly becoming rapidly more and more aroused, the very base stages of her orgasm building as the toy continued to vibrate gently inside of her. I removed my finger, and the vibrator slid out just a little, but her tensed muscles – which also wonderfully firmed up her behind all of a sudden – were enough to keep it in place.

“Good girl,” I told her.

I picked up her panties again, sliding them back over her feet and pulling them up her legs, fitting them snugly back over her backside.

“Now, let go.”

As I had hoped, the elastic of her knickers was tight enough to keep them up while holding the weight of the vibrator – the very fact that her legs were closed helped to keep it inside of her anyway. Now it was firmly held there, there was no way it could fall out, and still it worked its wonderfully terrible magic on her.

“I do hope you’re not thinking of having an orgasm,” I warned her darkly as I stood to the side of her furthest from the camera.

“I… I can’t help it sir!” she gasped desperately.

“Well you’ll just have to. I shall tell you what’s going to happen. I’m going to spank you, very hard, twenty times. You needn’t bother counting, we won’t be concerned with that today. You can make all the noise you want. You just have to bear it, and make sure you don’t climax while I’m spanking you. Even when I’m finished you may not, but you have to take the twenty spanks to make sure you get your reward, you understand?”

“Yes sir…”

“Good. If you do orgasm before I’ve spanked you twenty times, well… I’m afraid then we’ll have to make it a hundred. With the bristle side of the hairbrush. And no reward at all, and that’ll be it for today’s film.”

“A hundred?” she gasped.

Smack!

“You’ll take whatever you’re given!” I hissed angrily. “And you needn’t think that one there counts as part of the twenty, either.”

“No sir,” she conceded meekly, her breath getting faster and faster as the vibrator brought her to the next stage of her arousal. She was sweating profusely now, and clearly she was going to orgasm before very long. It was all down to whether she could take the twenty first.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Yes sir!” she moaned, a wave of pleasure running through her. She shivered as she hung there. I looked up at the bikini top holding her – it was secure, the hook was holding. I could begin.

Smack!

“One.”

This time it was me doing the counting. I left a nice long pause before delivering the second blow.

Smack!

“Two…”

She was doing well. We had reached sixteen, and she was nearly there, through gritted teeth she was bearing it. I was glad, in a way – I was getting almost bored of spanking her now, and I wanted to give her the reward I had in mind.

That was when the knock came at the door.

I froze, my hand already halfway to her backside for the seventeenth blow. I let it fall, and stood up straight. Her head also perked up, and we were both quiet, the only sound the very low, muffled humming of the vibrator inside her. She couldn’t hold her breath for long, however, and it soon came in quick little gasps.

“What is it?” she asked, panicked.

“Someone at the door,” I told her. I began to move toward it.

“You’re not going to answer it?” she asked desperately.

“Sir,” I pointed out.

“Please sir…?”

I picked up one of my ties and placed it around her head, this time around her mouth. I yanked it tightly, gagging her, and knotted it in place. She groaned against it, and I grinned as I headed toward the door. If I opened it two-thirds the way or less there was no way whoever was there would be able to see around it and spot the naked woman blindfolded and gagged in her knickers with a vibrator stuffed up her tied against the wall.

She groaned again in desperation, but as she heard me slide back the catch and open the door she became deathly silent, knowing that she daren’t make a sound.

It was Alison. My heart leapt, and for a moment all I wanted to do was invite her in, see what she’d make of it all. I fantasised about her wanting to join in. But no, this was reality – I couldn’t be lucky enough to find two women in this building who wanted to play such games with me.

“Hello,” I said, the door half open, standing very carefully to ensure she couldn’t look around it, and holding it firm so it wouldn’t open any further. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”

“That’s okay,” she replied, grinning. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything…?”

She said that with the air of a woman who knew for certain that she was, and didn’t care. She also tried peering around the door, but I stood my ground, albeit still smiling politely.

“No, not at all,” I said casually. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, right, well I just wondered if you were free on Friday?”

“This Friday?”

Surely she wasn’t asking me out after only having met me very briefly?

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Erm… I think so, yes. May I ask…?”

“I’m having a flat-warming party,” she explained. “You know the sort of thing – a few friends, a lot of drink, and I thought it would be good to get to know some of my new neighbours. Would you like to come?”

Who was I to turn down an invite from a pretty woman like her?

“Definitely,” I affirmed eagerly, nodding. “I’m sure I’ll be there.”

“Excellent! If you want to head over at about, say… Seven o’clock?”

“Sounds good to me – I’ll bring a bottle.”

“Good good – at least I know there’ll be someone there, anyway!”

“Thanks. I’ll see you then.”

“Not if I see you first…”

She turned and walked a couple of paces away, and I was just about to close the door when she stopped and turned around.

“By the way,” she said, a cheeky little grin on her face. “The invitation goes for both of you. Hope you’re having fun in there.”

I was too stunned to know quite what to say. I simply stood there gawping, my mouth open like a fish as she walked back into her own flat. Eventually, I remembered that I had other matters to attend to, and I closed the door and walked back across the room to Jane.

Poor woman. She was absolutely desperate by this stage, every single muscle in her body seemed to be tensed as she moaned desperately against her gag.

“Did you hear that?” I asked her. “I’m beginning to think you were right about Alison. She probably does think we’re up to something kinky.”

I distractedly ran my fingers lightly over the soft material of her knickers where they covered her behind. Oh well – no time to think about all that now.

“Where were we?” I asked, amused and impressed to see how hard she was straining against what she so desperately wanted. “Oh yes – that’s right. Well, I really don’t see how that last lot can count, seeing as how we were so rudely interrupted – we shall just have to start again from the beginning, won’t we?”

She moaned loudly, even against the gag an audible ‘No!’ emerging, but she didn’t have much choice in the matter. I left the gag on as she cried and moaned against it, straining harder than ever to hold herself together. I did, however, also increase the speed with which I administered the smacks, which now resounded less forcefully against the tensed muscles of her arse. I began the new count:

Smack

“One…”

Remarkably, she still didn’t orgasm, using all of her energy to stop herself from surrendering to what she must surely have been teetering on the brink of by that stage. She was sobbing now, big fat anxious sobs as she buried her head against the wall and cried tears of bitter desperation.

On we went, until eventually:

Smack!

“Nineteen.”

I paused before I got to the final number. God, she was so close, I could even see the juices from her sex running down the inside of her legs, mingling with the profuse amounts of sweat.

Smack!

“Twenty! But don’t you dare orgasm yet!”

Still she held herself back, but I was feeling in a merciful mood as I grabbed her knickers and pulled them down, once more pulling them over her feet, allowing them to fall to the floor. Then I reached up and pulled the vibrator from her – it came easily enough, sliding gently out of her sopping wetness. It was soaking.

She collapsed forward in her bonds and let out a long, deep sigh of relief coupled with frustration – relief at having made it, achieved what I’d demanded of her, and frustration at being denied the orgasm she most desperately wanted after having had it building within her for so long.

“You’ve been a good girl,” I told her gently as I stood again, still holding the wet vibrator. “And I’m very impressed. You’re a good little slut, and now you’re going to get your reward. Open your legs.”

Despite how tired she must have been and how her muscles must have ached by now, she did as commanded. I looked into the camera, still running, still recording all of this. Placing one hand between the cheeks of her backside, I pulled one of them aside to create a gap and then pushed the vibrator against her, switching it to a higher setting. She spasmed with the surprise of both the vibrator’s touch and where it was going, then cried out as I pushed the lubricated plastic against her tight little arsehole.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never had it up there before, you little slut,” I told her. “You’ve had it everywhere…”

I pushed it further into her, twisting it first one way then the other, sliding it gently in and out as she began to try and move in rhythm with it, enjoying it, accepting it, her moans against the gag becoming more and more pleasured as I thrust it as deeply into her as I could push it…

Then pulled it out, and threw it to the floor, discarding it without even bothering to switch it off. She moaned in frustration once more and gave another anguished sob.

“Now you get your reward,” I assured her, placing a hand between her legs and briefly massaging her, driving my fingers against her. But her pleasure was not the main reason for this – my hand came back sticky and wet, damp with her juices. I quickly undid the buttons of my jeans and tore them off, doing the same to my boxer shorts, using my wet and sticky hand to lubricate my stiff cock, which had been waiting for this all day. Even just touching myself briefly like that took me to the edge. When it was nice and slick and wet, I put my arms around her and guided my cock between the cheeks of her backside, pushing the tip of it against her moistened arsehole.

“I’m going to take you now like a proper little slut,” I told her savagely. “Take you in the most degrading of ways, like the little porno slut you are. I’m going to “fuck” you up the arse, just like you deserve, like you want. Are you ready for this, my hot little whore?”

This was also a chance for her to say no. Had she shaken her head or given any indication then that she didn’t want it, I would have released her, let her go.

She nodded vigorously. She wanted this. Oh yes, she wanted it – she wanted this so much she tried her hardest to push herself back against me, trying to slide herself onto my cock. Her binding made this impossible of course, but I didn’t prolong the agony for her any further, thrusting forward and sliding up into her… Fucking hell she was tight. Tight and warm and wonderful… Oh God!

The force of my cock inside her pushed her upward and she cried out.

“Take it!” I shouted. “Take it you delicious little bitch, take it!”

She moaned in unison with my calls, deep, luscious moans of pleasure, her head thrown back as she called out, screamed almost, as loudly as she could against the gag. Harder and harder I pushed, slamming her again and again against the wall as I pushed into her, but she clearly didn’t care, she was too lost in the waves of her rapidly building orgasm, the one I was finally going to allow her to achieve. I was already building toward my own such experience, the tightness of her rear hole bringing me so close to the edge…

“Look at the slut taking it!” I cried into the camera, still filming us as we fucked as though our lives depended on it. “She loves it, she fucking loves it… Ooooooooo FUCK!”

I came inside her, the pleasure running through my cock and indeed my entire body like nothing I had ever felt before. Just to make sure she got there I reached around with my hand and placed a rough finger on her clit, rubbing it furiously, and a moment or two later she came as well, screaming out for a long, long time before finally collapsing, exhausted, hanging by her bikini top, my slowly softening cock still warm inside her until I slowly pulled it out.

Exhausted from our efforts myself, I just about had the energy to reach up and unhook the bikini top from the hook, holding her as she collapsed back against me. I took her over to the sofa where we both sat, and undid the gag, allowing her to take deep, refreshing breaths. I then reached over and switched off the camera, our little movie complete.

“My God…” she said quietly, when she had gotten back some of her breath. Her hands were still tied – now together in her lap – by the top, and she was still blindfolded, but she turned to me and breathed:

“You’re wonderful.”

I leaned across and kissed her on the cheek, then rested my tired head on her shoulder.

“Yeah?” I replied. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself…”

Tags: Fetish, Story