The Pursuit of Happiness


The Pursuit of Happiness

© 2005 Mike Kimera. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk

They say that, when you press a conch to your ear, you can hear the sea. When I press my lips against Beth’s cunt, and the sea-salt taste of her floods my mouth, and her thighs press against my ears, I hear happiness.

This is a here-and-now, grab it, savor it, look for it again, kind of happiness that roars in my blood like laughter in a storm. I grin and push my tongue into her.

When I can press no deeper, my hands slide, palms flat and smooth, up the warm flesh that stretches from the depths of her buttocks to the narrow shallows of her knees. I grip hard, pulling Beth’s legs apart, lifting her hips, letting my mouth slip slowly south towards the darker, earthier opening.

Beth squirms as my tongue spirals inwards insistently and my nose presses into the slick-but-sticky folds of her cunt.

If her hands were free, her fingers would be in my hair, grabbing and pushing, torn between removal and insertion. But, Beth is bound tight from wrist to elbow, hands stretched far above her head.

If she could speak, there would be curses and growls and pleas and thank yous, but all Beth can do is bite down on the black leather bit that fits across her mouth like a fat, armor-plated cock.

When I am so drenched in her that I have lost awareness of everything except the pounding of my blood in my now stiff cock, I stand, move hands from knees to ankles, spread her wider and enter her in her tightest hole.

Making it tighter still, I grasp both ankles in one fist and hold them firm against my shoulder.

Beth shudders as I adjust my stance, pushing home until there is no gap between her and me all along the length of her sweat-glazed legs.

Her eyes scream at me, then widen when they see, held high about my head in my free hand, the short, soft, suede, strips of the hand flogger.

Happiness grows like a blush with each stroke across Beth’s belly. I can feel her trying to bounce with joy.

When my arm is tired, and the tears have come, and my cock has spurted its appreciation, I slump to the floor, Beth’s legs limp over my shoulders.

A poet once said, “Man cannot take too much happiness.” Or did he say “truth“? Is there a difference? In my sated state, I cannot tell.

But, I am not a poet and I seek happiness whenever I can.

They say that, when you press a conch to your ear, you can hear the sea. When I press my ear against Beth’s sweat-slick breast and listen to her heart, I hear happiness.

Kirsten’s First Morning At The Sanctuary

This little piece is set in a world of Doms who have castles and Subs who seek only to be shaped by their Master. Escapist but fun if you’re in that frame of mind. Enjoy.

 

Kirsten’s First Morning  At The Sanctuary

(c) Mike Kimera 2001

As the sun rises I focus my attention on the strands of silver in Madam Chen’s jet-black braid. She is small wiry woman with strong hands, a sharply angled face that seldom shows any emotion other than anger or contempt. She is standing between Kirsten’s legs, bending over her naked body like a predator readying for a kill.

Chen’s braid is a calculated provocation: it looks so controlled, so deferential, but speaks of sex and passionate restraint. Every man she passes watches that tightly woven braid bounce off her arse and feels his cock stir in anticipation.

I have imagined wrapping that braid around my fist and forcing her impassive face further down my cock until involuntary tears flow, or using it to bind her hands behind her back and pulling on it like a leash as I push deeper into her arse. I have imagined it, but so far I have held back. Chen is valuable because she is fierce and fearless. She believes herself protected and she has been trained to act without pity or remorse. That is one reason why we are all here.

“ ‘Feng Shui’ combines the five elements: Earth, Metal, Wood, Water and Fire to produce a harmonious alignment.” Madam Chen explains.

She makes the words sound like a threat and in a way they are.

Unfortunately Kirsten is not listening. She is letting herself be distracted by Chen’s assistants, two teenage girls, who are releasing Kirsten’s arms and legs from the cuffs that I used to bind her to the leather bench that she slept on last night.

The first night in The Sanctuary is always spent that way.

The girls are stroking Kirsten’s wrists and ankles, helping the blood to flow. The younger of the two brushes her breast against the back of Kirsten’s hand with each stoke of the wrist. Even from across the room, I can see the girl’s erect nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her cotton shift.

Instead of listening to Madam Chen, Kirsten turns to smile at the girl. The girl looks away but leans further forward against Kirsten’s hand.

Madam Chen takes hold of Kirsten’s chin firmly with her finger and thumb, pulling Kirsten up into a sitting position, bringing their faces close together. Fear washes across Kirsten’s face as she looks up into Madam Chen’s unsmiling face and feels Madam’s sharp fingernails press into her cheeks. Kirsten’s eyes flick quickly towards me, hoping I will intervene.

“Look at me! You have not yet earned the right to look at your Master.”

Madam Chen’s voice betrays the hatred she feels for the flesh she holds. Young flesh, privileged flesh, flesh entitled to freedom and choosing to be enslaved.

I have promised Kirsten that she will not be marked without her consent, but it is obvious to both of us that Chen would like to rake Kirsten’s flawless skin. My imagination flashes me an image of Kirsten’s blood flowing over Chen’s pale nails as they rend her flesh. Kirsten trembles. My cock stiffens. Madam Chen smiles. It is not a reassuring smile.

“Today you will be used according to the principles of Feng Shui. Each time harmony is achieved you will be permitted to come. If you come without permission, you will be punished.”

Madam Chen lets go of Kirsten’s chin; steps back and runs her gaze across Kirsten’s naked body.

“I suspect you will be punished often. I look forward to it.”

It is unusual for Madam to be so provoked. She was born at The Sanctuary, was schooled in our ways. The fact that, instead of becoming part of our breeding pool, or being traded to another House, she has become a Madam is a tribute to her control, her aggression and her complete ruthlessness.

Perhaps it is time to remind Chen that the power she has been given can be taken away? Yet that would a waste and finding her successor would be a chore. Besides, the fact that Chen’s armoured emotions are so easily pierced reinforces my judgement that Kirsten is extraordinary.

Ever since she surrendered herself into my care, with her parents consent, on her eighteenth birthday, I have been nurturing her libido, ensuring she has come, with my permission, at least five times a day, often more. Her body now hums with a hunger that must be fed well and often.

I have being stoking that hunger since we set out for the Sanctuary yesterday. She was given no opportunity to touch herself on the journey. When we arrived, I stripped her and tied her to the tightly to the bench, positioning her with her head facing away from my bed and with her cunt spread and open to my sight.

They brought me a woman, ripe and soft, with pale flesh for my whip to write upon. It took me an hour to bring her to climax. Kirsten could hear her but not see her. Each time the woman moaned I could see Kirsten’s arse clench, showing how much she wanted to be the one feeling the whip’s biting kiss. By the time the woman was carried from the room, Kirsten’s cunt lips were slick and swollen.

In honour of her discipline in staying silence I decided to reward Kirsten. I stood between her legs, not touching her, relieving the aching hardness of my cock. When my cum splashed her belly, pooling in her navel, Kirsten groaned and pressed against her bonds. I knew what she wanted.

“Tomorrow” I said as I put out the light.

Madam Chen has noticed the dried sperm on Kirsten’s belly. It makes Kirsten’s smooth skin pucker slightly, like a scar. Chen scrapes at it, not gently, with one nail.

“Open her” Madam Chen says to the girl massaging Kirsten’s ankles.

She places her face an inch or less from Kirsten’s cunt and inspects every inch.

“Clean her. Get rid of all this hair. I want her smooth and oiled. Don’t let her come.”

“Yes, Madam Chen,” both girls say together.

Madam Chen strides out of the room, braid bouncing off her buttocks. As the door closes all three girls visibly relax.

“What is your name?” Kirsten asks the younger of the two girls. The girl shakes her head and refuses to look at Kirsten.

“Please tell me your name.”

The slap the older girl administers, catches Kirsten completely by surprise. The older girl places one finger across her lips signalling for Kirsten to be silent. The younger girl mimics the action but brings the finger from her lips to Kirsten’s and lets her eyes smile.

Without needing to speak to one another the girls lift Kirsten, taking one arm each and placing it behind their neck, supporting her under the armpits. Kirsten is still unsteady on her feet and seems glad of their support.

As they move with her towards the shower room, I step in front of Kirsten. The girls pause. I am fully dressed, and have cup of tea in my hands. I flick my gaze across Kirsten, reminding her of her nakedness, making her aware that her breasts are touching the girls who carry her. Her nipples harden and to my surprise she blushes. I prize that blush more than the sunrise I have just witnessed from the window of this chamber.

The shower room is tiled from floor to ceiling. At first sight it looks as if the shower curtain is missing, until the eye is drawn to the cuffs hanging from what is not, after all, a shower-rail. The girls raise Kirsten’s arms above her head and fasten them, wide apart, on the rail, then they spread her legs and tie them to rings set in the tiled floor.

I move forward and push my fingers through Kirsten’s hair. I keep her hair short and boyish, it’s easier to maintain and it provides a vivid contrast to her full figure. Kirsten tries to kiss my arm but I stop her with a look. When I hold up the blacked-out swimming goggles, she bows her head. With a practiced motion, I deprive her of her sight.

I step to one side so that I can read Kirsten’s body language. She tenses as she waits. Then the water hits her. She winces as it moves from too hot to too cold and then relaxes as the girls massage her with a high-pressure spray from in front and behind.

They start at her shoulders and work their way down, as if they were washing a car, then move closer, bringing the spray up between her legs from both directions. Kirsten tries to spread wider, welcoming the sensation, trying to dance on the water, seeking stimulation and release.

The water stops. There is silence.

Kirsten cocks her head to listen, seems momentarily puzzled by a sound that is familiar but which she can’t place.

When the shaving foam hits her mound she stands very still, letting the girls spread it with their fingers. She bites her lip; I can almost feel her anxiety as she waits for a sharp blade to move across her tender skin.

The finger pushing into her anus catches her by surprise. The younger girl is smearing lube with fast, light touches, inside and out. The nozzle slips into Kirsten easily, but the warm water that follows has enough pressure behind it to make her moan. She pushes forward, away from the assault on her rear, only to encounter the caress of the razor as it shears her.

I watch as the wisps of curly hair are swept away and her pink skin emerges looking freshly scrubbed.

Kirsten relaxes her leg muscles and lets herself hang from the bar above her head. The older girl pushes a second nozzle into Kirsten, this time into her cunt, flooding her with the scent of strawberries.

Kirsten rise onto tiptoe but there is nothing she can do to free herself from the dual force of the liquids sliding into her. When the nozzles are pulled from her simultaneously she sighs with pleasure. Watching her from the side I picture her as the water nymph statue at the centre of some Seventeenth Century fountain.

Starting at her shoulders, in front and behind, with the practised co-ordination of a dance, the girls work an oil into Kirsten’s skin, until every inch of her smells of French Vanilla. It is slow thorough work, interrupted three times to prevent her from reaching a climax. Finally it is done. Kirsten gleams in the early morning sunlight.

“Thank you,” she murmurs when the goggles are removed, but the erotic haze she had surrounded herself with is immediately dispersed when she sees that it is Madam Chen who has given her back her sight.

Both girls are kneeling beside Madam Chen, eyes downcast, as she inspects their work.

Her eyes are on Kirsten’s as she tests the smoothness of the shave with the ball of her thumb. She leans closer and pushes two fingers into Kirsten’s cunt and one into her arse. Despite herself, Kirsten moans.

Chen reaches up until her mouth is close to Kirsten’s, fingers still inside her. Just when Kirsten is sure she will be kissed, when she’s starting to lean into it, Chen’s mouth forms, but does not speak, the word SLUT and she removes her fingers with painful speed.

Madam Chen holds her fingers under her nose as Kirsten settles back onto the soles of her feet.

“You have done well girls. You will be rewarded. Put the collar on her and lead her to the Courtyard.”

Madam Chen strides out of the room to prepare Kirsten’s first ordeal.

For a moment, standing between the two kneeling girls whose efforts have made her skin gleam, Kirsten looks so lost and bereft that my heart aches for her.

The girls look at me, waiting for me to provide them with the collar that will show Kirsten’s status here. I move towards her, signalling for them to remain kneeling at her feet.

“Kirsten,” I say, resting the palm of my hand against her face and feeling my pulse race at the restoration of that contact, “are you ready to accept your collar from me?”

Her dark eyes focus on me, like searchlights exploring my soul. She turns her head into my hand and kisses my palm. Her resolve has returned. The strength and capacity for passion that first attracted me to her are apparent in the quiet confidence with which she says, “I am ready”.

The collar is a simple thing: strong black leather trimmed with silver at the edges; and with four matt black D rings evenly spaced at front back and sides. My initials are carved into the leather on either side of the front D ring. The silver edging is more than decorative. It tells everyone in The Sanctury who sees it that Kirsten has chosen a path of self-exploration; the initials show that she is under my protection.

I attach a leash to the collar. Kirsten makes to follow me.

“Not yet, Kirsten,” I say. “First you must reward these girls for a job so well done.”

Kirsten looks confused. She is not sure what I want.

I make a movement with my hands. The girls respond as they have been trained to do and fall forward with their small arses in the air.

“Kneel and finger then to climax, Kirsten.”

I watch for several minutes as Kirsten works with a hand inside each girl. As their passion rises, I remind her that she must not come.

My cock is hard. I free it from my clothes and push the head into Kirsten’s mouth. She is sucking on it, her cheek s concave with the effort, when the girls come on her fingers one after the other.

I pull back from Kirsten, and reward each girl with some of my semen on their foreheads.

Standing, I pull on Kirsten’s leash, then turn my back on her and lead her out into the courtyard.

Amy Goes To College: Chapter 2 Amy Plans Revenge

Amy Goes to College

Chapter 2: Amy Plans Revenge

(c) Mike Kimera 2004


To: ti8nwett@bigfoot.com

From: amyable@FckU.com

Subject: How to solve a problem with Maria.

Hey Sis,

Great news, I’ve managed to screw Dean Julien Ward. Well, not really screw him, not yet anways, but his ass is mine. Which is only fair given the bruises he left of my ass when I got busted for smoking pot. Tonight I’m gonna make him pay for that.

You should see this guy: think Giles from Buffy –scrawny, old, snotty voice, no fashion sense – then add a cold hunger in the eyes. He’s into sex but it’s in some twisted Brit way that’s all controlled and condescending.

I knew as soon as I got into his office that he’d hit on me. A man like him probably doesn’t get fucked often unless he pays for it. And I’d have been fine with that. I like it here at Desert U. It’s not the world’s greatest college but at least they let me in. After that thing with the fire at my last college I thought no-one would take me. So I thought, “If I have to fuck devil-Giles to stay in school, hey I’ll just waggle my ass and get him off as quick as I can.”

Of course it didn’t go down like that. Friend Julien likes games. He leaves the handcuffs on and he gets me to call him sir, he even asks my permission before he lays into me.

The spanking shit was a surprise. I’d never been spanked before. You should try it – or have you tried it already? The whole of the next day I couldn’t stop thinking about his hand stinging my ass, his cock, not that long but plenty thick, pressing into me. All that heat and hardness… and pain. My ass was hurt but the pain was making me wet.

As you know I’ve always enjoyed sex. But I’ve enjoyed it like a sport I was good at or a game I could win. The spanking was different. It produced basic, gut churning lust. I wanted his cock and I wanted him to hurt me. I found myself wanting to have him slap my face with his cock as I knelt in front of him. But I also wanted him to lose himself to it. I wanted to see him sweat. I wanted to know he needed it as badly as me.

At the end of the spanking I was bent over, handcuffed, bare- assed, and wet enough to fuck a baseball bat and the bastard unlocked the handcuffs, called in his frumpy secretary and threw me out without even giving me a decent fuck.

It was like he was laughing at me. Like I wasn’t good enough to have his cock in me. Like he was in charge and I was just a toy. I ran out of his office full of anger and frustration. I wanted to go to my room, lie on my bed and frig myself unconscious but laying down wasn’t an option and by the time I got home my lust had become a hunger for revenge. No one turns me on and then just kicks me out. I decided I was going to fuck him and then break him.

That next day he walked past me in the corridor. I was leaning with my back against the wall. I opened my legs as I saw him and pushed my books up under my breasts. I made eye contact and then looked at his crotch, but he ignored me. Walked by as if I didn’t exist. I decided that that had to change. He had his guard is up against me, smug bastard. I needed to get past it to get to his cock. I needed a lever… or a Trojan horse. By the end of the day I’d found the solution: I’d get to Ward using Maria.

Maria is a Latino, just under 5′ tall, small breasts topped with coffee colored nipples, dark eyes, waist length black hair. She’s a local, still living at home with mummy and daddy; still dressing like she’s in high school – I bet her mom picks her clothes. Her best feature is her mouth. Her lips always look swollen and moist as if she’s just finished sucking cock. Except she doesn’t suck cock. Her preference is for pussy, my pussy in particular. She’d been trying to get a lick of my pussy for weeks. I’ve had girlfriends before – as you know very well J. A girl’s tongue on my clit is a welcome change, but Maria’s not in my social circle so I wasn’t interested.

Last week Maria met me coming out of a bar neither of us was supposed to go near. She was drunk and alone and as soon as she saw me her nipples saluted. I took her back to my car. As I put her in the back seat she made a grab for me.

She kissed me with those large lips, putting her tongue in my mouth. “I love you,” she said.

I let the kiss linger and then pushed her away saying, “Get off me, bitch”.

She caught hold of my arm and pulled my hand between her legs to her wet pussy.

“Please, Amy. I’ll do anything,” she said.

Her cunt was soaked. She was starting to turn me on. I pushed her back down on the seat, making sure no one could see us. I lay down on her full length. My tits pushing up against her. Her thigh trying to dry hump me between my legs.

I held her hands above her head and said, “Do you want my pussy, Maria? Do you want your tongue up my cunt?” She pushed against me but couldn’t move.

“Yes” she breathed, “God yes”.

“Well you’ll have to earn it you little lesbian slut”

That started to sober her up. She didn’t like that so much.

“If you want my pussy” I said, “I want to see this shaved and smooth.” I put my hand on her cunt and pushed two fingers in while still holding her hands above her head “and I want this pierced.”

I brought my hand out of her pussy and pushed it into her mouth, grabbing hold of her tongue. I liked the thought of a hard little stud in her tongue flicking against my clit.

Then I raped her mouth with my tongue. I was hot now and I wanted a fuck. She’d warmed me up nicely for the meeting with my boyfriend’s father at the Lazy O Motel that I’d been on my way to. It was time to go.

“OK slut, out of my car,” I said and dragged her ass out of there. As I drove off she was still on the ground in the parking lot with her hand buried in her panties.

I thought no more about it then, the day after Dean Shaw’s little bondage session, Maria was there when I went for my session in the gym. After the session, Maria followed me into the showers. She had the sense not to stand next to me but she let me see that her pussy was now smooth and hairless. With her slight figure it made her look very young and vulnerable. Her clit also looked larger.

I remembered that Maria had been out for a couple of days. I’d heard from the other girls that she’d had a major row with her father. I wondered if it was because she’d had her tongue pierced. I figured it was time to check her out. If she was pierced then she’d help me nail Ward.

I made sure I was out of the locker room before Maria was. I waited in the corridor and grabbed her wrist when she walked by. The stupid bitch actually smiled at me, delighted at the attention. I didn’t speak to her I just dragged her round the corner into one of the empty music rehearsal rooms. The soundproofing in these rooms makes them a favourite spot for a lunchtime fuck. I’d gotten the janitor to give me a key (you can guess how and no I didn’t swallow).

Alone with Maria in the room I pushed her up against the wall and said, “Show me.”

Without taking her eyes off mine she stuck out her tongue which was now decorated with a shiny silver stud. “And the rest,” I said.

She lifted her skirt and pushed down her panties to show her smooth pussy again. I put my hand on her mound and kissed her on the lips. Her nipples stood out like rivets.

“You’ve been a good slut so far, Maria, and tonight you get your reward.”

She smiled and tried to reach for me. I grabbed her by the cunt and slammed her ass back against the wall.

“Wait ’til I tell you,” I said “You’re going to help me get the man who did this to my ass.”

I took off my panties and showed her the bruising. She looked sorry for me – how touching – and I let her trace the bruises with her hand. Actually it felt good.

I decided to try out that stud of hers. I sat on one the chairs, opened my legs and had her kneel before me.

“Show me how you use that tongue, slut and I’ll tell you what we’re going to do”

She thanked me and set about licking my clit and cunt with the kind of skill that only comes from lots of practice. The girl was good and the stud would really help get me off.

I told her that tonight she would go to the Dean’s office just as his prim and proper secretary was leaving. She was to make sure the secretary saw her go in. Once inside she would ask for counselling about her father’s reaction to her stud. When she heard the secretary leave she would show the stud to the Dean and explain that her boyfriend made her get it for oral sex. She’d say he made her shave her pussy too and would take off her panties. If the Dean came on to her she was to suck his cock (not an idea she was keen on) if not she was to rip her clothing and throw herself on him. I would then enter.

With perfect timing I came on her face when her instructions were complete. She wanted me to finger her. I told her she hadn’t earned it yet but that I did have a present for her. I reached into my bag and pulled out a banana that I’d intended to have for lunch.

“Here, fuck yourself with this while I watch.”

If she did it I would know the slut was in my power. That banana disappeared inside her so far and so fast that it took my breath away. When she came I was glad the room was soundproof.

The plan worked well. The secretary saw Maria go in. Ten minutes later I entered on cue and found Maria on the floor (where Dean Ward had just thrown her – too cautious to get her to suck his cock). Her panties were off, her clothes were ripped, and his cock was hanging from his open fly. Maria does good work with the right incentives.

FLASH the camera goes off.

I explained to the Dean that I’d tell everyone he made Maria shave and get a stud and that I came along because she said she thought he would try to rape her once he got bored with her mouth.

You should have seen his face: outrage, disbelief, anger. He actually looked dangerous. Then I offered him a way out.

Of course” I said “It doesn’t have to be that way. Not if you decide to take both of us with you to the Lazy O Motel.”

His cock and his eyes both got hard then. For a moment I wondered if he would just rape us. Then he relaxed and leant back against his desk, his cock still sticking out of his pants. He picked up Maria’s panties and threw them at her.

Tomorrow. Eight o’clock. Now I want you and your slut out of my office.”

Maria scrambled over to me. She was frightened. She looks sexy when she’s frightened. My pussy was getting damp. I decided to sit on her face before I sent her home. It might even be fun to make her come. It would be good to keep her grateful; I wasn’t done with her yet.

See you tomorrow, Prof,” I said, putting my arm around Maria. “Time for me to find out how wet you’ve made my little slut.”

I slide two fingers into Maria. She blushed but she didn’t move away, instead she pressed herself against me as I worked her. I could see it was taking all of Julien’s control not to cross the room and fuck us. I wouldn’t let him of course. I wanted to make him wait first. I wanted him to feel used.

I pulled my fingers out of Maria. She mewled in protest, already having forgotten that she was being fingered in public. I silenced her by pushing my wet fingers into her mouth, holding them high so that she’d have to stretch to suck them. I want Ward to see her tongue stud in action.

See what you missed when you wouldn’t let her suck you, Prof?”

I want you and your sextoy out of my office,” he said. His tone was hard and unforgiving. But his cock was harder. I swear it shivered as he spoke. He’d be jacking off as soon as we left the room.

I can see you want us, Prof. Tomorrow should be fun. Don’t be late,” I said. And then I dragged Maria out of there.

She was still mauling me when we reached my car; rubbing her self against me and feeling me up. I had to slap her to make her stop. Hitting her felt good so I did it again. She looked up at me in shock but she didn’t try to defend herself. My cunt contracted when I realised she was waiting for me to hit her again.

We were alone in the parking lot and my Santa Fe is way taller than Maria, so I decided to take her.

Turn and face the car. Put your hands on the vehicle and spread your legs.” Jesus, I thought, I sound just like a cop. I liked the idea.

Maria didn’t move so I span her round by her shoulders and threw her against the car. I was rougher than I meant to be and she bounced of the car but she assumed the position. I kicked her legs wider apart. She was tense, waiting for the next blow.

I kissed her on the neck and ran my hands over her little tits. “You were a good girl, Maria, so Amy’s gonna reward you.” She pressed her butt back against me and purred. She actually purred. “Amy’s gonna push her fist up your cunt until you come screaming like the little painslut you are.”

Amy, I…”

I slapped her hard across the butt. “You wanna talk, slut? Then the only words I wanna hear are ‘Thank you, Amy’. Do you understand that?”

I thought she’d say “Yes” but she was smarter than that, she just said “Thank you, Amy”

The first two fingers just slid in. I worked them in and out pushing her up onto the balls of her feet.

With every stroke she said, “Thank you, Amy”.

I had to squat to get the rest of the fingers in. The thumb was the most difficult. Then I was in her up to my wrist. Fuck, that felt good. I closed my hand into a fist and she screamed for the first time. I rested my head against her ass to keep my balance (and because I liked the feel of her flesh on my forehead) then I fucked her with my fist. I kept it slow; I didn’t want to rip her.

The little slut was still chanting “Thank you, Amy.” I was so hot that I had to slip a finger over my clit. I steepled my fingers inside Maria and pushed until I found her cervix, then I squeezed. Shit she went off like a hooked fish. The sound of her coming tipped me over. I bit into her butt as I came, closing my eyes with the pleasure of it.

When the come had passed I realised my knees were stiff and my hand was still jammed up Maria’s cunt. I yanked the hand out and she collapsed onto her knees. She let herself sit then turned to face me.

Her face was streaked with tears. She’d bitten that cocksucking lip and there was a little line of blood running over her chin.

I was just wondering if I’d gone too far when she said, “Thank you, Amy.” Then she looked down and said, “I love you.”

That woke me up. I’d had enough of Maria for one day. I reached forward and pulled her head against my breast. As she started to nuzzle I  wiped my cunt-slimed hand on her hair.

Yeah, well to me you’re just a wet cunt and a talented tongue, Maria.”

I stood up. She looked ready to cry. When I drove away she was still kneeling in the parking lot.

Yeah, I know I was hard on her, but she shouldn’t have brought up all that love shit. I hate it when they do that.

Anyway, Sis, that was Phase one of my master plan in action. Phase two is tonight. I go to the Lazy O and make Julien Ward regret not fucking me when he had the chance.

I’m gonna tell him that if he lets us tie him, Maria and I will take turns on his cock. I might even have Maria suck him while I tie the knots. Then I’m gonna push some Viagra down his throat. He’s gonna be hard for hours and we won’t fuck him once.

I’m gonna take Maria right on top of him. I’m gonna use a strap-on to take her hard. Then I’m gonna strap it onto darling Julien’s mouth and use it to fuck myself silly. The bastard will be begging to come. If he begs prettily enough I’ll get Maria to give him a hand job while I sit on his face.

I’ll let you know how it goes. Hey, I may even take a few more pictures just so you can join in the fun.

Hugs and Kisses

Amy

PS: Have you dumped that wimp boyfriend of yours yet? I don’t know why you put up with him. When I had him at Spring Break he wasn’t that good a lay.

Amy Goes To College: Chapter 1 Amy’s college life gets off to a spanking start

This story messes around with the college bad girl idea.

No deep meanings here, just a sex romp focused around a narcissitic young woman with a high sex drive and a college administration that seems to be up to no good.

Enjoy and let me know if you like it.

Amy goes to college

Chapter 1 Amy’s college life gets off to a spanking start

© Mike Kimera 2004

To: Naomi.Campion@DesertU.com

From: Julien.Shaw@DesertU.com

Subject: Confidential encrypted mail: Our new slut is primed.

Ok, so you did it again, Naomi. I’m talking about Amy Farmer of course. You really know how to pick them don’t you, my dear?

I wonder how many university admissions offices have a slut-spotter as good as you?

Of course, your preference for young girls is a strong incentive to hone your skills. You must have been creaming your panties when you interviewed Amy. Did you cross your legs and squeeze your thighs together? Were you able to concentrate on her banal answers to your questions or where you distracted by thoughts of working on her until she would accept your fist up her arse and still try to smile?

I’d read her profile of course: promiscuous delinquent, poor discipline record, big tits, heart shaped arse, and a pysch score that puts her libido in the upper decile: but it wasn’t until I met her in the flesh, and very nice flesh it is too, that I understood the low cunning, the spite and the arrogance that power her. She’s perfect for what we have in mind. We’ll run the little bitch through our mazes and she’ll think it’s all her own doing.

God, I love my job.

Who’d have thought that leaving Oxford behind (albeit not entirely voluntarily) and taking up the job of college Dean is this excuse for a university would have so many fringe benefits?

Are you sitting comfortably, my dear? Lock your office door, spread your luscious legs and find your toy of choice. I’m going to tell you all about my afternoon with Amy.

You’ve seen that “fuck me if you can” strut that she uses when she prowls around campus: all tossed hair, jutting tits, and swaying butt? It makes me want to hogtie her, tape one of your big “massage” Hitachi wands across her cunt and leave it there until the battery runs out.

But I digress.

Today, Ms Sluttorial Elegance excelled herself. She was wearing a tiny “catholic schoolgirl” plaid skirt, a thin white blouse a size too small and black bra and panties. I think she’s been watching Tatu videos. The look was so appropriate for what I had in mind that I decided that today should be the start of Amy’s extracurricular tuition.

As you know, the bitch is a pot-head, and I knew she wouldn’t make it through the morning without a hit. I had Mendez track her. I’m sure he enjoyed making the cameras zoom in on her over-displayed flesh, although the phallic symbolism of the extending camera would have been lost on his Neanderthal mind.

Do you think he ran his thumb down his erection as he watched her? Did he perchance, imagine ways to use her as our plans unfold? For one of such mediocre intellectual ability, our Head of Security can be surprisingly inventive. Do you remember the creative use he made of his nightstick with our last slut? Of course you do, you were sitting on her face at the time, as I recall.

Dearest Amy is not entirely stupid; she picked a deserted spot to get high; which was very convenient for us of course.

Mendez gave her time to get a buzz on and then he arrested her.

Poor little Amy, the nasty chief of campus security cuffed her hands behind her back, put her in his car and drove her to the Dean’s office. You know, that eccentric British Dean who has such a fearsome reputation for discipline and a well publicised policy of zero tolerance for substance abuse. How I enjoy the impression that I make, especially when most of it is false.

My new secretary, (another miraculous find of yours by the way. Mrs Almeda dresses like a Sunday school teacher, is almost old enough to be my mother, wears a wedding ring on her finger and a cross at her neck, won’t look me in the eye, even when she has my cock in her mouth; but she’ll do things most whores would blush at and do them promptly and obediently. She doesn’t enjoy them much it seems, but that just adds a spice to the dish. I wonder what hold you have over her? I have a nasty suspicion that somehow I am her punishment – your personal equivalent of a community service sentence perhaps– but I digress yet again – back to little Amy’s awful afternoon.) let them into my office as if the sight of a handcuffed co-ed dressed up as jailbait and smelling of marijuana was an everyday part of our office routine. If only it were so.

“You have visitors, sir,” she said and closed the door behind her on her way out.

Mendez pushed Amy further into my office. I had a splendid view of her tits bouncing as she struggled keep her balance.

“She was doing drugs, Mr Shaw. Shall I call the police?”

Sometimes that’s all the threat we need to get them in tears, but it didn’t work with Amy.

“Yeah, call the police.” Amy said, turning to face Mendez and flashing her panties at me in her haste, “and I’ll tell them about the perverted college rent-a-cop who cuffed me and then felt me up.

Mendez reached for his nightstick but I stopped him with a glance.

Standing behind Amy, I said, “Is this true, Mendez?”

I placed my hand on Amy’s shoulder, my fingers apparently accidentally brushing her bra strap. The heat of her made me instantly hard.

Mendez grinned. Amy looked confused. Then she noticed that my hand was still on her shoulder. Her little pot-fuddled brain was slowly working out that something was wrong.

“You can leave us now, Mendez. Ms Farmer and I have things to discuss.”

Mendez gave Amy a leer that would have curdled milk and then left.

I let go of Amy and leant back against my desk.

“Hey, wait,” Amy shouted as Mendez closed the door behind him. She turned to face me “He’s got the keys to these cuffs,” she said.

I stayed silent and studied her.

As you know I like to keep my office at a cool, nipple-stiffening temperature. A Dean has to give advice to so many young women and in our wonderful desert location, so few of them dress for the cold. I find it heart-warming to have such a responsive student body. Or do I mean bodies?

I watched with interest as Amy adjusted to the temperature. Her nipples are short but unusually wide. Better suited to a stud piercing than nipple rings I think. Two of those nice fat silver studs that look like little dog-bones. They keep the nipple lifted and provide convenient places for attaching weights and chains. Sigh… the expertise a man acquires in the course of his career.

Amy followed my gaze and ended up staring stupidly at her own tits. A perfect look for her I thought.

“You are in trouble, Ms. Farmer. Your academic record is mediocre at best; you’ve already been expelled from two schools. On the last occasion I believe you should count yourself lucky not to have been charged with arson.”

Poor little handcuffed Amy looked more disturbed by the threatening tone of my official persona than she had been at being mauled by Mendez. That speaks volumes as to the nature of the girl, don’t you think.

Just when it is dawning on her that this might be a disciplinary hearing and that she might be sent home, I let our precious sluttling off the hook.

I looked her up and down, taking in every curve and every hollow. With my eyes still lingering on those stubby little nipples, I said, “You have been a very bad girl, Amy.”

Amy smiled then; she thought she had it all figured out. She was back on familiar territory and snapped into role immediately.

“I didn’t mean to be bad, sir”, she pouted. “Mostly, I’m very, very, good. Or so they tell me.”

She walked towards me as she said this, head down, looking up at me from under her fringe, breasts jutting out because her hands were so tightly bound behind her; wanting me to think that she was a submissive little miss.

When she reached me, Amy rested her cunt against my thigh, her breasts against my chest, looked up at me and said, “If you take these handcuffs off, I’ll try to show you how good I can be, sir.”

I gave her a second or two to register my erection, long enough for her to think she was going to fuck her way out of trouble, then I pushed myself off the edge of the desk, letting her fall past me and onto the desk.

Amy struggled to stand. I put the palm of my hand between her shoulders and pushed until her fat tits where squashed against my desk.

“Ms Farmer, I do believe that you have compounded your original offence by offering sexual services in order to avoid being disciplined.”

Amy tried to push up off the desk, but with my hand on her back and her hands cuffed behind all she succeeded in doing was spreading her legs a little.

“LET. ME. UP!” she spat.

So much for submissive little Miss.

“If I let you up Ms Farmer, it will be to expel you. Is that what you want?

Amy stopped struggling.

“You didn’t answer my question, Ms Farmer. Do you want me to let you up off my desk?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Please don’t mumble.”

“NO.”

“’No’ what?”

There was a pause. This was where I would know if I had her.

She worked it out.

“No I don’t want to get up off your desk… sir.”

I let go of her then. Staying behind her, I said, “I am the Dean of this College and it is my job to instil discipline. Discipline is very important don’t you think?”

I waited. She didn’t need further prompting.

“Yes, sir. Discipline is important, sir.”

“I think,” I said, flipping Amy’s parody of a skirt up over her back, “that if we handle this privately…” I slid the flat of my hand over her right buttock. “We can put the whole matter behind us.”

My fingers hooked the top of Amy’s provocative black panties. “Do you agree, Ms. Farmer?”

I swear I could smell her cunt. The little bitch was angry but she was horny angry, my favourite kind.

“Yes. I agree. Sir.”

I was so tempted to rip those panties off, rub them across her drizzling cunt, stuff them in her mouth and ream her arse but I resisted. I didn’t want to land that fish yet, I just wanted to plant the hook in its mouth and let it run until it was tired. Very sporting of me don’t you think?

I did rip off the panties of course. I had to gag the bitch with something.

She pretended surprise but she spread her legs a little wider, waiting for me to fuck her, daring me to really.

I made her wait.

When she started to turn her head to see why nothing had happened, I hit her hard across the right buttock.

Her gasp of surprise was gratifying, even through the gag.

I hit her again, five or six rapid blows delivered with all the strength I could muster. I stopped because my hand stung and I needed to catch my breath.

Little Amy was having difficulty breathing. I doubt she’d ever felt real pain before, not the kind of pain the savages your consciousness like a dog shaking a rabbit, not the kind that leaves you aware of nothing but its presence and your overwhelming desire for it to leave.

Gently I slid my hand over the warmth of her spanked skin. She was pink rather than purple but we had only just started. I am an atheist as you know, but I am still willing to learn from Christianity, I decided to turn to her other cheek. This one was slightly further away, so I pulled her hip up against my erection, held her down with one hand and bent to my task.

These blows were hard but slow, each one producing a mighty slapping sound, the sound of one hand clapping, followed by a low grunt from Amy. She sounded like a woman tennis player delivering a strenuous serve. I wondered if she grunted like that with every fuck stroke when she is taken from behind.

After the first dozen slaps, I picked up the pace, until the sound was more like rapid applause and Amy’s grunts had stretched out into one long moan of protest.

I stopped. Amy’s legs were trembling. One side of her arse was the shade of ripe plum. She was still moaning although the blows had ceased. It seemed to me that she was trying to find an angle to rub her clit against the desk. The slut was trying to get off.

I pulled on the handcuffs and yanked her to her feet. Her eyes were filled with tears and snot was running from her nose, but the flush on her neck and the lust in her eyes declared her arousal.

I had stopped just in time.

“Let that be a lesson to you, Ms Farmer,” I said, pulling the panties from her mouth and using them to wipe her eyes and nose.

Anger replaced lust in her eyes then. I could see she wanted to swear at me just as soon as she had the moisture in her mouth to do so.

“Now, Ms. Farmer. Be polite or all this will have been for nothing and I will have to expel you after all.”

She glared at me but she said nothing.

“Turn around, Ms. Farmer.”

She wanted to ask a question but thought better of it.

When she obeyed, I asked her to bend over. Then I stood so close to her that the back of her thighs pressed against the front of mine.

“You’ve had your punishment now, Amy. It’s time for your reward. Do you know what I’m going to do now, Amy?”

There was a pause. She leant back against me a little and said, “Yes, sir.”

“Do I have your consent?”

“Yes, sir”. Her voice was husky. She wanted so much to get off that she was willing to be fucked by the man who’d just turned her arse into tenderised steak.

“Good.” I said. I leant forward, pushing up against her sore arse, and unlocked the handcuffs.

“You can go now, Ms. Farmer.” I said stepping away from her and moving towards the door.

When I looked back, Amy was only just starting to stand upright. She’d stayed bend over, waiting for my cock, and she couldn’t believe that her cunt was still empty.

I smiled at her and Amy finally figured out that she wasn’t going to get off.

Before she could express her rage, I opened the door and said, “I need you in my office please, Mrs. Almeda”

Mrs Almeda entered, eyes downcast as usual.

“Ms. Farmer is just leaving,” I said, more to Amy than to my secretary.

Amy started to flounce out of the room, then seemed to notice that she wasn’t wearing any panties under her alleged skirt and slowed down a little as she passed Mrs Almeda, then she broke into a run.

I must prompt Mendez to find the surveillance tape of her exit; it should be good to look at in slo mo.

With Amy gone I was left with nothing but Mrs. Almeda and my erection.

What a happy coincidence.

“Strip, Mrs. Almeda, then bend over and grasp your ankles,”

She undressed with quiet efficiency and then assumed the position. She really is a remarkably supple woman.

I knew she wouldn’t be able to hold the position for long but she wouldn’t need to.

When I unzipped, my cock virtually reared with excitement.

I reached down and pushed Amy’s panties into Mrs Almeda’s mouth, then I spread her arse cheeks.

The anal beads I’d slid in earlier were only detectable by the little pullring sticking out of my secretary’s arse. I pulled on it like it was a ripcord on a parachute and all six beads came out in rapid succession. Mrs Almeda said something in Spanish that sounded colourful but not polite.

I pressed down on her hips to make her bend her knees a little and then I pushed into her arse, holding onto her hips so that she wouldn’t fall and leave my cock in mid air.

The beads had left her arsehole tight but welcoming. It took no more than dozen strokes and all the tension of the afternoon flowed into Mrs Almeda’s bowels.

When I was done, Mrs Almeda fell to her knees and waited for me to remove Amy’s panties so she could suck my cock clean.

Did you teach her that, Naomi dear? If you did, it was very thoughtful of you.

While Mrs Almeda’s mouth did what it does best, I mentally reviewed the session with Amy. I decided it had gone well. The girl has potential. And what an arse. Just the memory of it under my hand was enough to get me hard again.

Mrs. Almeda took that in her stride of course. Well actually she took it down her throat but you know what I mean.

I’m a generous man by nature, so I gave Mrs. Almeda the rest of the day off and set about writing you this email.

I’m certain we’ve found our candidate for this year. The next move is up to her but I’m sure come up with something interesting.

Best Regards

Julien

Ask Alice

It’s been a while since I wrote something that is erotica with no frills. This is a D/s story with a lesbian / bi-sexual flavour, so it hits a lot of the arousal tags.

I hope that it goes on to do more than that. I want this one to crawl under your skin and make you itch afterwards.

I’m happy to receive any comments. Enjoy.


Ask Alice


(c) Mike Kimera 2010, All rights reserved.

“Carol, this is Alice.”

Alice is small, round, pale and naked.

Hot fingers of desire run their nails up from my belly to my breasts.

This instant arousal shames me, not just because it is lust without a context but because the trigger for my arousal is not the soft heavy flesh in front of me but the ugly slave collar around the girl’s neck and the strange gag across her mouth.

Alice is in a deep squat, hands behind her head, arms and legs spread wide, breasts and sex exposed and available.

Without thinking about it, I take a step closer. In my heels, I tower above her; my sex is level with her head. All I’d have to do is lift the hem of my little black dress and…

I make myself stop. The girl hasn’t even looked at me and I am ready to use her like a sextoy. This isn’t how I think of myself.

I turn towards Alan.

“You’re sure she’s OK with this?”

“Ask her.”

“But…,”

“… the tongue-clamp means that she can’t speak. The loss of speech is worth it don’t you think? See how wide and wet her tongue is? How the pressure of the clamp keeps her attention on this soft sensitive tissue over which she has surrendered all control? How the saliva that drips from it makes her breasts glisten and reminds her that she is an object on display, ready for use?”

The gag is a kind of bridle through which Alice has forced her tongue. The gag holds her tongue at full extension. It looks painful. I want to think of it as monstrous and barbaric but the main effect it has on me is to want to stroke my thumb across the surface of her tongue.

“Squat down,” Alan says, “and look into her eyes. Get closer. Close enough to suck the tip of her tongue into your mouth. What do you see?”

My little black dress is short and form-fitting. Underneath it I am wearing thigh-highs and the tiniest of thongs. As I squat, I am intensely aware of the way the fabric slides up my legs, exposing my thighs.

I get close enough to Alice to smell her sweat. She is younger than me. Her skin is perfect. I want to lick it. Slowly, deliberately, she makes eye contact with me.

Looking into her eyes I understand for the first time that I am dealing with a person here, a woman, like me. Except that she is bound and naked and drooling. And I can take her if I want to. The thought makes me wriggle with excitement but I keep eye contact.

“I see… embarrassment? Defiance? Fear?” I say.

Alan squats next to me, so close that his shoulder brushes mine. He reaches out, grasps the tip of the girl’s tongue between his finger and thumb and turns her head towards him.

Something in her eyes changes when he touches her. She looks at him as if he is the only person in the world.

“I see desire and submission,” Alan says, letting go of her tongue. “I see a struggle between her picture of herself as a strong woman and her need to be offered for the use of strangers.”

Alice looks down.

Alan brushes the hair back from her forehead.

“You do want to be used, don’t you Alice?” he says.

There is a pause then, looking only at Alan, Alice nods.

Alan stands up. I remain squatting, torn between hunger and conscience.

She nodded. She could have said no. That makes it OK doesn’t it?

I look up at Alan.

“And she, er… likes women?”

“That,” he says, “is something we are all about to find out.”

“Oh God.”

It comes out almost as a groan. As he’d promised Alan has arranged for me to live my fantasy.

Alan and I have known one another since University. He was one of the first people I came out to. Back then, I was dating Heather and he always asked me a lot of questions about what it was like to sleep with a woman. I always told him that he should know; he’d done it often enough. He kept on at it; asking for a threesomes or just to get to sit and watch. He even offered to film us. I thought about it but Heather was a private person and wouldn’t consider it. Heather left me two years ago. Since then, Alan has hit on every girl he’s seen me with.

Alan is very public in his sexuality. He’s a control freak. He’s a martial arts expert who stays in perfect shape. He made his money in the City before the credit crunch and now runs a string of Dojos. He also trains pets. That’s how he describes it. His pets are submissive women that he literally has begging him to tie them up and slap, pinch, whip and fuck them into ecstasy. I’ve seen the photographs.

This evening, Alan and I had one of our regular dinners at Langhams. It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone so it was a relief to be able to talk freely; the more wine we had, the more freely we talked.

Towards the end of the meal, Alan asked me the question that had brought me face to face with Alice.

“Tell me about what gets you off.”

“You know what gets me off,” I said, making light of the question. “Pretty young things who think I’m gorgeous.”

“Don’t be evasive. Tell me about the long-held fantasy that you return to time and again and which always gets you off. The one that shares your bed with you when you are alone. The one that has nothing to do with anyone’s pleasure but your own.”

I didn’t reply.

Alan looked at me, letting the silence build. He’s a hard man to say no to.

“My deepest darkest fantasy,” I said, leaning towards him so that I could speak quietly, “has always been to have sex with a straight woman. I don’t mean a woman who is gay but not admitting it; I mean a woman who is strongly heterosexual but who still offers herself to me.

“Sometimes it’s a married woman, neglected by her husband and exhausted by her kids, who I sweep off her feet. Sometimes it’s a cocky young thing who doesn’t desire me at all but is willing to use her body to barter her way out of a bad situation. Hey, it’s a fantasy. I’m allowed to think bad things as long as I don’t do them.

“What the fantasies all have in common is that I’m the first woman who has ever fucked them. I know how that sounds but the whole ‘she’s not a virgin anymore’ thing makes me hot.”

I could see the excitement in Alan’s eyes. His whole body-language had changed. He’d moved into that predator-on-the-prowl mode that makes him look sexy, even to me.

“So, I’ve told you mine. Now it’s your turn.”

“Mine is always the same,” he said. “I think about you squatting on the face of a pretty woman and coming so hard that you scream.”

That sent a sliver of ice-cold excitement into my spine. It wasn’t just the image; it was that I knew that Alan meant exactly what he said.  Which meant that he’d spent years, cock in hand, working towards the short strokes, with me as the centre of all his desire. It was a disturbing and arousing piece of knowledge.

“Well,” I said. “I guess we all fantasize about what we can’t have.”

“I don’t accept that. These fantasies tell us what we really need. It only makes sense to arrange to live them.”

Without waiting for me to reply, he reached into his jacket, pulled out his phone, and pressed a speed-dial number.

When the call went through he said, “Be there in twenty minutes. Prepare yourself and wait for me.” then he hung up and signaled the waiter for our bill.

“What was that all about?”

“Come home with me and you’ll find out.”

I had indeed found out. I’d found that my fantasy-made-flesh had a bone-deep appeal that both appalled and illuminated me.

Alice is mine if I want her.

I will get a straight woman’s tongue where it will do me the most good and Alan will finally get to watch me fuck.

It is perfect.

Isn’t it?

“It doesn’t matter if Alice enjoys you forcing her tongue into your cunt or grinding your clit against her nose.” Alan says. “What matters is that she shows me her obedience. If she’s a good pet, I’ll send her home to her husband with my cum up her arse and we’ll all be happy.”

Alice is married. Alice left her husband this evening because Alan told her to. Alice is going to let me fuck her because Alan told her to.

I allow myself to touch her.

I slide my hand down her thigh. She gives a small involuntary flinch but she stays in place. Alan has trained her to stay in place.

Her sex is wet on my fingers. Long, engorged labia that part easily. I take her imprisoned tongue into my mouth at the same time that I push two fingers into her.

She closes her eyes and waits.

Alice will let me do anything to her. Anything at all.

I want her eyes open. I want her to look at me; to see me, the woman who is going to show her what sex can be. I want to leave my mark on her memory.

My fingers find the roof of Alice’s sex, my thumb presses into her clit so hard she struggles to stay in her squat. When I suck hard on her tongue then clamp down on it with my teeth, Alice’s eyes shoot open. I have all of her attention now.

I hear Alan unzip. I have all of his attention too.  He steps closer until his erection, as hard and purposeful as his will,  is visible above Alice’s head. Wordlessly he starts to stroke himself. Slow unhurried strokes that speak of controlled desire and absolute entitlement.

I realise that he is  going to stroke himself while he watches  two women, one gay, one straight, squatting, sucking, fingering, fucking, putting on a show for him.

Now I know exactly what I want, no, what I need to do.

I pull out of Alice’s sex, release her tongue and use both hands to undo that cruel tongue-gag.

Alice looks at me with a question in her eyes. It seems to me this is the first true acknowledgment she’s made that I am anything more than an extension of Alan’s will.

I look up at Alan. He grins at me, displaying his arousal like a trophy or perhaps a weapon.

I put my hands on either side of Alice’s face as she flexes her freed tongue.

I lean forward and kiss Alice on the forehead.  Alan’s erection hovers above us like a bird of prey. I work my way down Alice’s  face until I am close to her ear.

“Go home to your husband,” I whisper. “You deserve someone better than Alan.”

I stand up, straightening my dress as I rise.

The look of astonishment on Alan’s face is the highlight of my evening.

“I’m leaving now,” I say to Alice. “I’m calling a cab. If you want to leave with me, be upstairs in five minutes.”

Looking from Alice to Alan I realise that neither of them know what her answer will be.

I leave the room smiling. It seems that I may have  swept a straight woman off her feet after all.

A Walk In The Park

“A Walk In The Park” is an early D/s story of mine. It’s thin on plot but it seems to get the juices running. It has the same characters as “Bus Ride

 

A Walk In The Park

Walking through the park, Paul and Suzie make a striking couple. He has an air of power, almost aggression, about him. She seems demur and sinful at the same time. People find their eyes drawn to them, without quite knowing why.  If pheromones were visible, they would swarm about these two like bees around a hive.

The day is cold. Paul is wearing an expensive coat and close fitting black leather gloves. Suzie is wearing a red silk dress better suited to summer. Her hard nipples press through the thin fabric. She is carrying her coat in front of her, over her hands as she walks. She is grateful to carry it this way, to hide the fact that her wrists are cuffed together.

Suzie is walking to heel, but only she and Paul know that. Paul’s stride is longer than hers and Suzie doesn’t know where they are going, so she has to concentrate to keep up. The ben-wah balls in her cunt mimic her movements, stretching and probing, constantly stimulating. When she hurries, her short dress flows around her thighs in an eye catching way and there is a danger that someone will notice her lack of panties. She has not been given permission to speak, so they walk in silence. Paul stops. Suzie almost walks past him but she catches herself in time.

The litre bottle of mineral water is full and cold. It has a little cap that allows the water to be sucked from the bottle. Suzie looks into Paul’s eyes as he places the cap in her mouth and tips the bottle. She knows that he will not lower the bottle it she fails to swallow the water. He’ll squeeze until the water runs down her neck and over her breasts. So she sucks hard; hard enough for the sides of the bottle to flex. Paul makes her drink half a litre. People are watching.

Leaning close to her ear, Paul says, “What a great cocksucking mouth you have, Suzie.”  Suzie blushes, hoping no-one overheard those words, but she does not move away.

Paul puts the bottle back to her lips and tilts her head most of the way back. Her neck is stretched and vulnerable. Every swallow she makes is visible. Already Suzie’s bladder is under pressure and she is losing body warmth. When the bottle is empty Paul kisses her lips but doesn’t touch her.

Only when Paul steps back does Suzie see the couple on the park bench who have watched her drinking feat. She realises that, while she drank, her coat moved and the cuffs are now visible. The boy can’t take his eyes from her. The girl looks as if she wants to spit at her.

Paul makes her walk on. It is not a comfortable process. She needs to piss. The eggs in her cunt, with their shifting counter-weights are making her wet. She feels everyone is staring at her. She doesn’t know what he will make her do next.

They step off the path into a small rose garden, not much frequented this late in the year. Paul tells her to squat. Suzie looks up at Paul, needing to piss but hoping not to have to do it here. Squatting puts pressure on her bladder and exposes her cunt to the world. Paul strokes Suzie’s cheek, finishing by pulling down her lower lip with his thumb.

“Stay here and don’t piss”, Paul says and strides off.

The wait seems interminable. Left alone in this humiliating position, Paul’s power over her starts to wane and Suzie has time to wonder how she let this happen to her. She is almost ready to stand, at least to ease her aching muscles, when Paul returns. The boy from the bench is with him. The girl, it seems, is history. Suzie is at eye level with the erection in the boy’s jeans.

Locking eyes with Suzie and placing his hand on the top of her head, Paul speaks to the boy. “She can’t fuck you just now because her cunt is already full. As you know, her hands are tied. She needs to piss but she won’t be allowed to do this until she makes you come with her mouth. The only rule is that you can’t hurt her. Do you have any requests?”

“Yeah – I wanna come on her face and I wanna see her tits.”

Suzie is in shock. Paul can’t mean this. Surely he is going to send this boy and his hungry hardness away. This is a test. She looks up at Paul, silently pleading for him to change his mind. All the while the pressure on her bladder is building.

“That’s up to you,” Paul says to the boy. “Her hands are tied so you’ll have to undo her dress for her if you want to see her breasts. Remember, don’t hurt her. Feel free to use her throat; she’s well practiced at that. She will do her best to please you.”

Suzie’s world slows down. Her will goes on hold. She feels as if she is outside herself, watching this strange meeting. As the boy fumbles with the buttons on her dress, she is surprised to find that her main concern is to be allowed to piss and soon. The boy’s cock already has precum on it. She knows he won’t last long. Almost on autopilot Suzie leans forward and sucks in his cock.

The boy places one hand on Suzie’s head and uses the other to tweak her nipple. “I don’t even know his name,” she thinks, as she swallows his cock whole. She desperately wants to pee. He is fucking her face with a fast rhythm and she concentrates on the drumbeat of his lust.

Then she feels Paul squatting behind her. She can’t help it; the moment Paul touches her, desire floods through her. He flips up her skirt and pushes his thumb into her asshole.

“When he comes you can piss, but I want you to come too,” Paul says. “If you piss before then I will make you lick it up”

She knows he doesn’t mean this, but the thought excites her. She surrenders herself to the experience.

Soon Paul’s thumb becomes her point of balance. Her eyes are closed. She rocks between Paul and the nameless cock using her mouth.

Then the cock is withdrawn from her lips. Suzie opens her eyes just as the boy starts to spray his thick young-man’s cum on her face. She closes her mouth so it will all go on her face and hair. To everyone’s surprise, she smiles. Now she can piss. She feels her ass contract on Paul’s thumb as she empties her bladder. The eggs move inside her and she starts to come.

A pool of urine is forming at Suzie’s feet. She rests her back against Paul, ignoring the cum dripping from her chin, and lets herself groan, a long deep growl of a groan, as she comes.

.When she opens her eyes, the boy, prompted by Paul, is thanking her. Suzie is reminded of a boy dutifully thanking his aunt for a birthday present. She laughs.

The laugh releases her. She is back in her own head again. The boy is gone. Paul is unlocking her cuffs and putting her coat around her shoulders. He kisses her cum-stained mouth passionately and without restraint.

Game over, Suzie steps back, holds Paul’s gaze just long enough to see a question start to form in his eyes and then says, “Thank you Paul. I didn’t know I needed that.”

 


© Mike Kimera 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk

 


A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.

Bus Ride

“Bus Ride” has the same characters as “A Walk In The Park” but was written first. It appeared on “Clean Sheets” in 2004 and was one of the few pieces of mine that has received angry mails. This is apparently, sheer porn, that degrades and humiliates women. I know that will prompt some of you to read it, but it surprised me as I think this is quite a mild piece. If you want porn, read “Have A Nice Day” which is very hardcore but which no one ever objected to.

Still, what do I know? I only wrote it. The rest is up to the reader.

Bus Ride

It is mid-afternoon on a sunny October day. Paul has told Suzie that they are going on a bus ride across town. Paul does not normally ride the bus. He will look out of place in his business suit and tie but Suzie knows that all eyes will be on her. The summer print dress that Paul has chosen for her to wear has narrow straps, a dropped waist and bias cut that flares when she walks. The weather is not quite warm enough for the outfit and her nipples show the cold. Apart from the dress, she is wearing a black silk choker with a D ring, and, on each wrist, a black leather cuff also with a D ring. It seems to Suzie that these items scream for the attention of every passing eye. They set her apart. They mark her as Paul’s. She is embarrassed, excited and proud at the same time.

Suzie looks small and young and exotic next to Paul. He is white, middle aged and middle class. She is Asian, young enough to be his daughter, and projects an air of calm submission. No one would mistake them for husband and wife. No one could miss the fact that they are together.

Suzie is walking with care. The ben-wah balls in her cunt stimulate her with every step. As she steps on to the bus ahead of Paul, the sun shining through the dress shows clearly that she is naked underneath.

Paul directs Suzie to the backseat of the bus. People instinctively make way for them. Most find their gaze drawn to Suzie. She has snagged the fabric of their attention and they must shake themselves to break the link.

Paul sits first. Suzie stands patiently in front of him until he looks up at her, giving her permission to sit next to him. As she sits, she lifts her dress so that her bare skin will touch the seat. She sits as close as she can to Paul without touching him. She keeps her legs slightly parted and her gaze straight ahead.

A boy, no more than eighteen, leans against the window further along the bench seat. He stares at the choker on Suzie’s neck and the cuffs on her wrists, but looks away when he notices Paul looking at him.

Paul, still watching the boy, whispers in Suzie’s ear. She puts her hands behind her back, slides further forward on the seat, the PVC warm against her buttocks, and clips the two cuffs together. Her face is impassive but Paul knows her well enough to see that she is excited and a little afraid.

Paul moves the strap of her dress off her left shoulder, then her right. Only her breasts hold the dress up. Each time the bus bounces Suzie is in danger of the dress falling to her waist. She knows that if this happens she will not be allowed to cover herself; she will have to wait to see what Paul instructs.

The boy is not slouching against the window any more. He has moved closer on the benchseat and all of his attention is focussed on Suzie. He is watching her intently. His jeans do nothing to hide the erection that his thumb traces.  He wants to touch Suzie. The sight of her makes him want to do things that he has barely imagined before: to bite, to probe, to use. Only Paul’s threatening presence holds him at bay.

The bus reaches the terminus. Reluctantly the boy stands to leave. As he slips by he deliberately brushes against Suzie’s shoulder. Her dress falls forward a little; the top of her nipple is just visible. Suzie does not move or glace up at the boy. His erection is directly in front of her. She sees a damp spot blossom at its tip and knows that the boy has just come. Paul makes a noise that is more of a growl than a word and starts to stand. The boy backs away rapidly, falling over his feet, one hand pressed to his crotch.

It will be a few minutes before the new passengers join the bus. Paul stands facing Suzie, shielding her from view of the passengers getting on. He pushes her dress down to expose her breasts. He tilts her chin up to make her look him in the eyes, unzips and places his cock in her mouth. He is very hard. Suzie knows that he has been fully erect since they boarded the bus. She sucks eagerly, at this cock, partly from excitement and partly because she wants to make him come before the new passengers see what she is doing.

Paul twists the nipple Suzie’s right breast, his other reaches between her legs. His fingers search for the string to the ben-wah balls. Pushing his cock deeper into her mouth, Paul pulls out the ben-wah balls. Suzie’s sigh on his cock triggers Paul’s long withheld come.

The bus is filling. Paul and Suzie are attracting attention. Suzie does her best to swallow Paul’s cum. She allows herself to rock forward on his fingers by way of a reward. He leaves his cock in her mouth even though she can hear people getting closer to the back of the bus. She wants to struggle, to push his cock from her mouth, to cover herself, but more than all those things, she wants to obey him.

Paul can see the alarm in her eyes. He smiles and with rapid, confident movements, pulls the straps of her dress back on her shoulders and zips himself up in the time it takes for Suzie to lick the cum off her swollen lips.

Suzie waits for Paul to undo her wrists. She is disappointed that the game is over and she has not yet come but she knows that when Paul teases her like this she is always rewarded.  Paul reaches behind her but he does not undo the cuffs. Suzie’s eyes widen as she feels the ben-wah balls, still slick from her cunt, placed in palm of her hand.

Paul turns to leave. Suzie’s wrists are still bound. The game is not over.

Suzie knows that there is a spot of Paul’s cum just below her lower lips, the ben-wah balls are visible in her hands, and she will leave a wet stain on the seat when she stands. Paul is almost off the bus. Determined to walk with dignity and not to scurry with fear, Suzie rises to follow Paul off the bus, conscious of the stares she is receiving, feeling them like slaps, warming under their touch.

Paul lifts Suzie from the step of the bus, holding her off the ground, licking away the cum on her chin, kissing her with the cum still on his tongue. Then her turns her to face the bus while he undoes her cuffs. Several passengers are looking at her with expressions that vary from distaste through greed to envy.

“Good girl, Suzie,” Paul says.

He is holding her hands at her sides, not letting her turn away from the bus.

“Now it’s time for your reward,. Suzie. Look straight ahead. Close your eyes. Listen to your body. Tune it. Stroke it with your mind. Focus it. Let all these people see how beautiful it is. How beautiful you are.”

With her eyes closed all Suzie allowed herself to be aware of was Paul’s voice, leading her, making her go where she needed to be. In the long hours of the night he has taught her to respond to his voice. Her body greets it like a dog wagging its tail. She focuses on all that she wants and needs.  His voice in her ear is like a mouth on her clit, tugging at her, nudging her, driving her onwards.

When she hears Paul say, “Come now, Suzie.” she shudders to a climax that leaves her floating.

“Open your eyes, Suzie.”

The bus is gone.

Paul takes off his suit jacket and put it around Suzie’s shoulders, wraps his arms around her so she is pressed back against him and says, “Thank you. You were magnificent.”

His praise warms Suzie almost a deeply as her orgasm. She feels safe and protected and needed in his arms. She is drowsy and content now. She lets her weight lean against Paul.

He kisses the top of her head and says, “We’ll take a cab home.”

 


 

© Mike Kimera 2004 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk

 


 

A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.

Christmas with Mary and Suzie

This is the last in the “Mary and Suzie” series. When I came to write I found that my requirements of myself had changed since I wrote “Coffee Table Games“. Now I wanted to go beyond a description of a D/s threesome and find out how this relationship came to be. The result surprised me and gave me some insight into how a Dom might get started.

The story featured Rachel Kramer Bussel’s very successful anthology “He’s On Top

Christmas with Mary and Suzie

This will be the first Christmas that Mary and Suzie and I have spent together. I’ve been thinking about them all day. On the overcrowded flight home I feigned sleep and summoned images of the two of them – bound, beaten, and fucked into exhausted happiness – that made my cock pulse with anticipation at the thought of using them and watching them use each other.

I was in my forties and twice divorced before I came to terms with the dominant side of my sexuality. Mary claims that she knew my real nature the first time that she looked into my eyes.

We were in one of those clubs at the edge of town, where the young people lose themselves to the rhythms of music and stoke each other into a sexual frenzy. I was feeling old and out of place and was about to leave when I saw Mary.

She looked too young to be in such a place and too small and frail to be unprotected, but the emotion stirring in the pit of my belly was not paternal care but ravenous lust.

It wasn’t the way she flicked her long red hair or the prominence of her nipples under the T-shirt that hugged her small breasts; it was her smile that snagged me. Her arms were above her head, her hands were grasping her own wrists, her eyes were closed, and she was smiling. There was a wickedness in that smile that called to me.

It didn’t so much move towards her, it was more that I was pulled into the sexual-magnetic field that her smile generated.

When I was so close to her that I could have licked any part of her that I chose, her body started to jerk forward, then rest, then twist forward again. Although the music made it impossible for me to hear anything, I could have sworn that with each twist she groaned.

She had my full attention. If I had been asked, there and then, what I wanted from her, my only reply could have been: “everything”.

She opened her eyes when I put my hands on her breasts and ran my thumbs across her nipples. It wasn’t something I’d decided to do; it was something that I couldn’t refrain from.

When she made eye-contact, everything stopped. I was more aware of the intensity of her gaze than I was of the heat of her young flesh. I swear I saw the moment when she reached her decision. Then I started to breathe again.

She let herself fall against me, wrapping her arms around my neck, pulling my head down and pushing up on tip-toe until her mouth was close to my ear.

“You’ve been looking for me,” she said. “I knew that if I stood here and imagined being flogged and flogged and flogged, you would find me.”

I had no idea, then, what she meant, but the image of her being flogged and the reality of her pressing against me was too much to bear. I came, right there on the dance floor.

With any other woman I might have apologised. With Mary, a different part of my brain took over. I pulled one of her hands from my neck and placed it on the sticky mess at the front of my trousers. She closed her fingers around me possessively, and squeezed.

“Are you going to make me clean that up?” she asked, as her thumb traced my shaft.

“Are you going to punish me on my knees with your cock in my mouth?”

Her other hand slid down my back and pushed past my belt, on its way to my arse.

“Are you going to…”

I didn’t let her finish. I grabbed both her arms and pushed her to her knees in one swift movement. Then I put my hand on the back of her head, wrapped some of her hair in my fist and pushed her face up against my crotch.

She licked me through my trousers. She closed her mouth around my bulge and sucked. When she reached for my zip with her teeth, I pulled her head back by her hair and we made eye-contact for a second time.

“Not until I give you permission,” I said. I could hardly believe I’d said that. What the hell did I think I was doing? What if she cried rape? What if she punched me in the balls? What if…

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.” she said.

Her smile was still there, but there was a hunger in her eyes now that reflected my own.

I took her home and our journey began. That was almost a year ago. She’s still here. For that, I am profoundly grateful.

Does gratitude sound odd on the lips of a self-confessed dominant? It should not. Don’t be distracted by the fact that I am old enough to be her father and strong enough to leave her tight little arse covered in welts that write out my lust in a pain-drenched Braille; Mary is my equal as well as my slave. I realise now that the most important parts of my life had been written in an invisible ink that can be read only by the heat of our mutual desire.

In the time we’ve spent together I’ve grown to know Mary the way that a sailor knows the sea; it is not that I understand her, it’s more that I observe her closely and try to read the signs and portents that predict her actions.

Mary meets me at the door to welcome me home from my business trip to India. This time her intentions are not at all hard to read. Mary is wearing only a Santa hat, a red leather collar with matching cuffs and novelty panties with “Ho Ho Hole” printed in white on a red background.

It’s good to be home for the holidays.

Perhaps it is the way her nipples jut upwards or the grin that won’t quite go away even when she kisses me, but I know there is something Mary wants to show me.

I push her to her knees and let her unzip me and kiss me for the second time. She is diligent but, even with her mouth full, her eyes are pleading for us to move on to the next thing. Given Suzy’s failure to greet me, I have my suspicions on what Mary has in mind.

When I am nicely hard, I say, “O.K.  Show me.”

She is up off her knees so fast my cock is left bobbing in her wake.

“We prepared something special for you,” she says and then leads me by the cock towards the playroom.

When I am away, Mary takes charge, even though Suzie is more than ten years older than her.

Mary was always proud of her bisexuality. She brought women to our bed with the same strut of achievement with which my cat used to drop dead birds at my feet: part tribute, part taunt, all instinct. But when Mary “recruited” Suzy to our household, she moved into conscious choice. The two of them are perfect together. Where Mary rushes gleefully towards submission, Suzy wrestles with it, needing to be bound and beaten, before she can give herself up to the lust inside her.

Mary was Suzy’s first female lover. Suzy had spent ten years in a sexless marriage, only to be dumped for a trophy wife once her husband made Partner at his law firm. Mary discovered Suzy at a singles bar, took one look at her rounded figure and her wounded eyes and knew she had to taste her. She followed her to the bathroom, where Suzy was adjusting her make up in the mirror. She waited until Suzy looked at her, then she stepped out the flimsy little dress she was wearing, stood naked, hands on hips and said, “Want some?”

Suzy froze. Mary stepped up behind her, pressed herself up against Suzy’s back and firmly took possession of Suzy’s breasts. When Suzy closed her eyes and groaned Mary let go and stepped away.

“If you want me, follow me,” she said, as Suzy turned to her, confused and breathless. Mary walked into a stall. Suzy followed.

They’ve acted out what happened next for me on many occasions, once even in the same bathroom at the bar. Mary wasn’t gentle: she bit and slapped and pushed her small fist in deep. Suzy took it all and cried only from relief at her too long delayed release.

Now Suzy has two loves in her life, Mary and pain.

To my surprise, I’ve turned out to be good at pain. Before I met Mary, I’d never hit a woman. In fact, as and adult, I’d never hit anyone. I regarded myself as a civilised man with too much intellect to need to resort to violence. I still think of myself that way. Pain, the kind of pain I inflict, has nothing to do with violence. It has to do with strength and courage and the need to break away from the limits of the flesh.

The first time I hit Mary, I was in a kind of trance. She was bent over a chair, naked, arse in the air, an improvised gag in her mouth, and she wanted me to hurt her. I suppose I could have just spanked her but at the time it seemed natural to use my belt. I remember the sound it made as I pulled it of my jeans, the weight of it in my hand when I bent it over, the noise it made as it whistled through the air, but most of all I remember that first impact. It was as if I’d jumped off a cliff and instead of falling, had discovered I could fly. I felt powerful and purposeful and connected to Mary more intimately than I would have thought possible.

I’ve learnt a lot about pain since then: how to set a rhythm, how to raise and lower intensity, how to take Mary to the point where she cannot keep still, where she has to stamp her feet to earth the pain.

Mary likes pain as an extra spice on the joy she gets from being tied and used. For Suzy, the pain is the main event. She struggles against it, trying to subdue it, trying to make it go away, but she wants to be pushed and pushed until she has no will left to struggle with and can give herself up completely to the heat flowing through her.

I’ve grown fond of Suzy. She doesn’t twist my guts as Mary does, but she has an enormous capacity for pain-induced pleasure and she will do anything that Mary asks of her.

Although Mary and I often play alone, I have never taken Suzy without Mary’s participation. It is an unwritten rule that shapes the angles of the triangle we make.

When we reach the playroom, Mary skips ahead, stands triumphantly beside Suzie, points at her and says “I wrapped your present”.

Suzie does indeed look like Christmas present. She is strapped, spread-eagle on our Saint Andrew’s cross, tinsel trims have been added to the leather that binds her. A Christmas tree bauble hangs from the ring that Mary installed through Suzy’s heavily hooded clit. Above the ring, Suzy’s pubis has been freshly shaved and the words, “Merry Christmas” have been painted across it in Mary’s small, precise handwriting.

I move to kiss Suzy hello, looking forward to the weight of her breasts in my hands when, Mary says, “Do you want to see what we bought for you to open your present with?”

I’m intrigued. Mary grins, reaches down to a box beside the cross and produces two silver metal eggs, so large she can barely fit them in her small palms.

I raise an eyebrow. Mary bends and slides the first egg into Suzy’s cunt. “They vibrate, don’t they, Suzie?”

“God, yes.” Suzy says then grunts as the second egg is pushed up her well lubed arse.

“But the best thing,” Mary says, reaching back into the box and pulling something out, “Is the remote control.”

I take the remote from her. It has two controls, one for each egg I assume, that can be set at low, medium or high. Mary drops back to her knees as I examine the remote, and rubs my cock against her face to keep me hard.

“Tell him what happens when they’re both set on ‘High’, Suzy,” Mary says then sucks my balls into her mouth.

Suzy eyes flick hungrily across the remote as she speaks, “They vibrate against each other and I die and go to heaven.”

I can take a hint as well as the next man. But I like to add a twist. I pull Mary to her feet, lead her across to Suzy, push her head onto Suzy’s left breast and tell her to suck.

Suzy is groaning by the time I finally kiss her hello and run my hand over her belly, but her eyes are still on the remote.

I set both controls to low. Suzy pouts at me. I push them both to high and her eyes widen. I can hear the eggs buzzing away.  The bauble on Suzy’s clit ring starts to bounce.  Mary is still sucking but has slipped a finger or two inside herself.

I know exactly what she needs.

It takes me a few seconds to find a condom to slip over the small remote. I show it theatrically to Suzy, then I push it into Mary’s cunt.

“That’s not coming out until I’ve come in her arse.” I say.

Suzy barely registers my words. Her eyes are glazed and her head is rolling from side to side. They really were very big eggs.

Mary bends over and positions herself so that her head rests on Suzy’s belly, her arms are wrapped around where Suzy’s waist used to be, and her legs are braced and spread wide.

As I part Mary’s buttocks and press home, I grin at the thought that this is going to be my best Christmas ever. Then I make a silent prayer to the universe that I will survive until New Years.



© Mike Kimera 2005. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk

 


A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.

Recruiting Suzie

This story is a prequel to “Coffee Table Games” and describes the (rather elaborative and slightly cruel) process used to bring Suzie into this rather strange little “family”

Recruiting Suzie

I can smell Suzie’s cunt the moment I walk in to the training room. She doesn’t know I’m there yet. She’s lost in the images on the screen before her; tormented by the strident demands of her body, which the restraints prevent her from satisfying.

“She looks wonderful,” Mary says, pressing closer to me.

It’s true. She is glowing with arousal. The curves of her slightly heavy body seem to swell with lust.

Two hours ago, at midnight, Mary helped me to bind Suzie. While I tied Suzie’s arms to the bamboo pole that runs across her shoulders, Mary spread her legs wide and strapped them, fully stretched, to the legs of the wooden chair. Mary was smiling when she attached the weighted nipple clamps. Finally, I inserted the soft ring gag that would hold Suzie’s mouth slightly open in the hours to come.

Standing before Suzie, I gave her one last chance to decline to the session. Then I put on the headpiece, a vice like pair of earphones attached to the back of the chair, that keeps her looking at the screen in front of her while feeding sound directly into her ears.

Since then she has been watching porno films. Not the kind you find at your local video store; specialist films, mainly from Japan. They show women being whipped; brutally fucked; having hard cocks and other objects forced deep into cunt and ass; being spanked or pierced with needles or pissed on. Extreme images, recut pop-video style to flash into the brain in short bursts and lodge there. Between these fierce collages there are stills and video segments of me using Mary, of Mary with another woman, of Mary and I in a threesome. Our scenes are slower, longer, a gentler ballet of submission.

My voice is edited into the sound track of screams and moans in film. Calmly, authoritatively, I tell her that we are going to play out these scenes. That her body’s response to them tells her of her deepest needs. That she wants to be used by me and by Mary and that we want to use her, to unlock her talent and potential.

My voice is almost hypnotic in its rhythm and tone. I tell her that I know that she needs this stimulation to achieve real, mind-wrenching orgasms, That she is hungry for these orgasms. That she deserves them. That, by surrendering to me, by giving her body and mind into my care, she can have this pleasure.

I promise that I will make her come again and again. That I will take her to parts of herself that no one else has ever touched. All she has to do is give me control. To acknowledge that her body is mine to use that her mind is mine to direct.

The speech is repeated and rephrased continuously throughout the tape. From the psych tests that she took, and from the tapes I have seen of her initial seduction by Mary, I know that my words will coil around her will, corroding it, setting her free.

It is 2:00am. The room is hot. Suzie is tired. It is time for the next step in the session.

I switch off the TV and move in front of Suzie. Her eyes meet mine. She is pleading for something. I’m not sure even she would know what.

I rub my finger on the juice-glazed seat below her cunt, careful not to touch her.

“Look Mary, Suzie has been having fun,” I say, holding out my sticky finger.

Mary grins and sucks the finger clean, looking into Suzie’s eyes as she does so. Dropping to her knees Mary, with the practised flamboyance of a magician’s assistant, frees my cock from my pants. Suzie’s whole body quivers at the sight of it. She pokes her tongue through the ring-gag in a clear invitation to lick me.

I respond by rubbing my cock against her face, leaving a trail of precum over cheeks and under her nose. She strains to try and capture me in her mouth but the headpiece constrains her movement.

I step back so that Suzie can get a clear view of the two metal rings that Mary is holding. They are stainless steel, cleverly designed to ratchet to a smaller diameter. I let Mary place the rings on the base of Suzie’s substantial breasts. Mary works the ratchets until Suzie’s breasts are squeezed and pushed outwards. They look obscenely swollen. Suzie groans when Mary sets the weights on the nipple clamps swinging like pendulums on a clock. Mary’s last gift to Suzie is a clit clamp, attached firmly to her hooded flesh. I think Suzie says “please”, but the gag distorts the sound, making it difficult to be sure.

“We want you to join us Suzie,” I say. “But we have to be sure that you want that. That you need it. Do you understand?”

Mary is behind Suzie now, stroking her tense shoulder muscles.

Suzie seems to be trying to consent. It sounds as though she is asking for my cock. She has not yet learnt that I need more than a request. I need her to feel her submission is inevitable and necessary.

Her arousal is like another presence in the room; loud, needy, deeply physical. But it still has not consumed her. She is still thinking rather than feeling. Time to raise the stakes.

Mary leans over and places her cheek so that it rests against Suzie’s. When I enter Mary’s mouth, Suzie almost screams with frustration. She can smell me; feel my hardness as I push against Mary’s cheek; but she remains empty; excluded.

Mary is ready for my climax. As she feels the cum forcing its way up from my balls she takes me from her mouth and points me at Suzie. Three threads of thick cum splash across Suzie’s breasts and neck. Suzie bounces in her desperation to be included.

“Thank you Mary,” I say. “But look at the mess you have made. You must make amends. Come here please.”

Mary is already wearing cuffs on her wrists and ankles. I make her face Suzie. I fasten Mary’s wrists to the rings on each side of Suzie’s collar, placing Mary’s hands on Suzie’s neck. She is now bent forward with her arse pointing towards me. Her long hair grazes Suzie’s nipples. I force Mary’s legs wide apart and fasten her ankles to the legs of Suzie’s chair. The two women are now very close but barely touching.

I take a strap from off the wall and crack it in the air for effect. I tell Mary not to move. She looks so enticing spread before me that I almost forget about Suzie. I want to lose myself in bringing a red glow of pain to this pale, muscled flesh.

The first hit sails through the air and lands on the inside of Mary’s right thigh. She is screaming through her tears as the strap hits her over and over on the thighs. I am please with my aim. There are no gaps between the strap marks. Her thighs are red from knee to cunt.

Suzie seems mesmerised. Her hands are clenching with every assault on Mary’s flesh. She is sweating. I know, with perfect certainty, that she wants to take Mary’s place; that she is jealous of Mary’s punishment.

I save the best shot for last. The strap snakes upwards and slaps viscously against Mary’s clit. Before she can stop screaming I am behind her, pushing two fingers into her swollen cunt and forcing my thumb into her puckered arsehole. I finger fuck her until I feel her come.

She slumps forward, resting against Suzie. Suzie’s eyes are wide and bright, as if she were on drugs. She eagerly sucks my fingers and thumb when I place them before her gag.

My erection is back after all this excitement. I untie Mary and turn her around. I make her sit between Suzie’s legs, her still painful thighs nestling back against Suzie’s tense muscles. I kiss her on the mouth, forcing her head back against Suzie’s distended breasts.

Then I fuck her. It is not easy. I have to squat. I steady myself by placing my hands on Mary’s knees. I use deep, slow strokes that let me push into Mary and force her buttocks back onto Suzie’s clamped clit.

I make eye contact with Suzie and maintain it throughout the fuck. Suzie’s face is flushed. She is crying and biting down on the ring gag.

Mary’s young tight cunt is so effective at milking me that I know the fuck will be short but sweet. I want her to come. She has been so good. When I am close I hold my cock still inside her, place my lips over hers and suck her tongue into my mouth, holding it there with my teeth. This is always a trigger for her. She spasms against my cock, drawing my cum from me.

I lift Mary away from Suzie. She is like a tired child in my arms. I put her over my shoulder, fireman style, and look at Suzie. With my free hand I remove the clamps from clit and nipples, each time being careful not to touch Suzie directly. Her gasps make my balls shiver and I could almost become hard again. Lastly, I remove the ring gag. Suzie stretches her abused jaw and licks her lips.

“Don’t speak,” I say. “We haven’t finished yet.”

I can see that she misunderstands. Her desire is so great that she thinks I can take her with Mary still over my shoulder.

I grin. Mary’s cunt is leaking cum. I scoop some up and rub it under Suzie’s nose. Then I kiss her lightly on the forehead.

“Soon I will ask you if you want to join us and give yourself to me,” I say. “But I want you to have time to make your decision, ” I start to walk away from her. “So Mary and I are going for a nap. I’ll be back in an hour for your answer. In the meantime, enjoy watching the TV.”

I switch on the tapes as I leave room. Suzie is sobbing but her eyes are fixed on the screen. I know that in an hour’s time she will be mine.

Mary stirs sleepily in my arms. I let her stand, leaning against me as we walk.

“That was good,” she says, “I hope Suzie joins us. Do you think she will?”

I just smile at her and hold her close. “Will,” I think to myself, “has very little to do with it.”


© Mike Kimera 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk


A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.

Beam Work

This is quite a villainous piece of prose. Don’t try this at home unless you know what you’re doing :-)

To my surprise and delight, most of the mail I’ve had from readers who like this piece has been from women who tell me that, while they might not do this in reality, it taps into a powerful fantasy I just love women’s fantasies.

 

 


Beam Work

Suzie, bound and stretched upon the beam, looks literally delicious. I want to pounce and bite and devour but I hold back. There is sometimes more pleasure in restraint.

To distract myself I walk slowly around her, reviewing the details of her bonds. It’s obsessive I know, but the details excite me. Each additional bond, each clever detail, heightens my arousal, as if a leather strap was being slowly cinched tight around the base of my cock.

Suzie’s legs, tied to the leather-padded wooden beam, are spread so wide that her body forms an upside down T shape. They are fine legs, strong but rounded and smooth. Eight straps of oiled black leather fasten Suzie to the beam at ankle, calf, lower and upper thigh.

The straps at her upper thighs, two inches below her cunt, deserve special scrutiny. That they are tied more loosely than the rest is not an act of charity. The inside of the upper half of these straps are lined with strong sharp needles, less than a quarter of an inch long. They have been tied just tightly enough to ensure that the points of the press on, but do not penetrate, the skin. Unless, of course, Suzie moves.

The rest of the straps are tied very tightly and her flesh swells voluptuously over the edges of them. I lick my lips. I want to take those folds of flesh into my mouth. I want to taste them. But I must not. Not yet.

Suzie’s upright position is maintained mainly by the smooth black rubber plugs that rise from the beam and push at an angle into cunt and arse.  The bulbous heads of the plugs stretched her as I lowered her onto them, making her gasp and shudder against me, but their narrow waists allowed Suzie’s abused muscles to close around them and now prevent her from expelling them.

My gaze rises to Suzie’s hands and my cock twitches with delight: the cuff on each wrist is clipped to a nipple by an alligator clip and a short chain. Suzie holds a two pound weight in her hands. The weight is chained to the noose at her neck. Such potential for mayhem and pain. Delicious.

She has already maintained her balance for fifteen minutes. I am impressed at her concentration. Suzie’s mouth, below her blindfolded eyes, is a straight line of compressed flesh. Her back gleams with sweat.

I can’t resist. I write my name in the sweat of her back using the tip of my hard cock. Suzie struggles for balance and moans as some the needles push into her thighs.

In front of her again I watch with amusement as she discovers that the butt plug is hollow and allows me to pump pressurised, warm, salty water into her. She squirms so hard her soft thighs are in danger of being ripped by the needles. I move swiftly to fasten the thigh straps tightly into her flesh. The stone walls of the cellar throw the echoes of Suzie’s screams back at us.

I stop the saline flow after a wineglass full has been injected, but the valve is one way and the pressure must be causing her pain.

Momentarily troubled, I remind Suzie of the safe word but she just shakes her head, perhaps not trusting herself to speak. I kiss her forehead.

Time, I think, for the whip.

Without support, the whip would cause Suzie to lose balance and either tear or throttle herself. I cannot permit that. I summon Mary to administer the cat to Suzie’s slick back. What she lacks in strength Mary will make up for in skill. She knows all the tender places. How to make the whip kiss Suzie’s sides and the bottom of her breasts. How to keep the strokes irregular to add to the tension. My cock in her mouth will be Suzie’s only support.

Her mouth is conveniently at crotch height as she sits impaled on the beam. My hands hold the back of her head. Suzie has already extended her tongue. I use it as slipway into her throat, pressing her to me until I am sheathed in her flesh.

I love how Mary’s small high breasts move as she raises the cat. I will let her continue until her hair is drenched in sweat and her arm trembles when it drops to her side. How often will I have come in Suzie’s mouth by then I wonder. Let’s find out….


© Mike Kimera 2001 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk


A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.

Coffee Table Games

“Coffee Table Games” was originally intended as free-standing scene-focused BDSM Mff story. I had fun with it. It’s up close and personal and unimpeded by a quest for cosmic significance. Problem was, I kept wondering how such a threesome came about and how it would work out over time.

That nagging question produced “Beam Work” and “Recruiting Suzie” and finally about eight years later “Christmas with Mary and Suzie” They are still very focused scene stories but, by the time I got to the last one, I found I had to put in more characterization and back story. I don’t know if that means I’m getting better at this stuff or I’ve lost the ability to produce simple stories or if I’m just getting older and seeing things differently. Read them and let me know what you think.


Coffee Table Games


My cock now has that solid, weighty feel that comes when I have sustained an erection for some time without allowing myself even the slightest touch by way of relief. The girls are excelling themselves today. I’m a lucky man.

Suzie is on her back on the small tiled coffee table that I brought back from Spain. She is almost completely unable to move. Her legs and arms are folded under the table with her wrists tied to her ankles. Her knees are bound together. Her head leans over the edge of the table. What makes the tableau complete is the sight of Mary’s pale coltish thighs on either side of Suzie’s face.

I adjust the zoom on the video camera to focus on how Mary’s carrot coloured pubic hair grazes Suzie’s chin as she licks her tight fresh cunt.

Mary has been dropping wax onto Suzie’s breasts for the past fifteen minutes and in all that time the licking has been continuous. I take that as a tribute to the rigour of my training methods.

Mary is close to orgasm now. The freckles on Mary’s pale skin look darker. The skin between her breasts and neck looks flushed. She is making small mewing sounds. She has saved Suzie’s nipples for last. The left breast is covered in blue wax, the right in red. The nipples look naked.

As she comes against Suizie’s eager mouth, Mary drops hot wax on both nipples at the same time. I wonder if the little coffee table will survive the two of them bouncing like that.

Time for me to become involved. My finger, moving lightly over Suzie’s cunt and clit, shows me that she is very wet. Her eyes, between Mary’s legs, look glazed. Mary collapses forward on to her bound companion; her small breasts pushing into Suzie’s belly. Mary’s head rests on Suzie’s pubis; her hair is a red waterfall across Suzie’s thighs. For a moment I am unwilling to spoil the perfection of the image.

My cock nudges my aesthetic needs aside with a more urgent intent. I tie Mary on to her lover, using a rope around her waist and under the table, trapping her arms by her sides. I whisper in her ear and she starts to touch Suzie’s clit with the tip of her tongue. Gentle, brief touches. It would take a long time for Suzie to come that way. Suzie begs Mary to lick harder, struggling under the slight burden of Mary’s body, desperately seeking a mouth to meet her need. Mary, obedient girl that she is, continues the slow gentle lapping of Suzie’s clit.

Suzie sees the whip; Mary doesn’t. She is surprised when it cuts across her buttocks. Mary groans into Suzie’s cunt and grinds her pubis into Suzie’s breasts, cracking the wax she laboured to place there.

I hit her again… and again. Red welts trace the kiss of the whip on the soft white flesh of her buttocks. She is chewing Suzie’s clit now as she loses herself in her pain. Her body, where it touches Suzie’s, is slick with sweat.

Suzie’s eyes follow my cock, which sways in front of me as I hit Mary. She opens her mouth and licks her lips in a clear invitation. At this angle her mouth and throat form a straight line of tempting warmth.

I kneel and slide my hard cock deep inside her. I can feel the hot breath from her nostrils on the underside of my balls. She sucks on my cock with the same enthusiasm with which Mary is attacking her cunt.

The whip is still in my hand. Using small circular motions I work the smooth, rounded pommel of the braided black leather handle between Mary’s swollen labia. Only the rope around her waist prevents her from crawling away as her tight cunt is filled by the fat black handle of the whip.

I extract my now glazed cock from Suzie’s mouth. She moans in incoherent protest. Mary has adjusted to the invasive presence of the whip. Her hips are pushing slowly against Suzie’s breasts, trying in vain to find a point of purchase for her clit. Perhaps in sympathy with her need for relief she sucks Suzie’s whole clit into her mouth.  Grinning I spread her cheeks and force my lubricated cock into her arse in two practiced pushes. Mary’s head snaps back, stretching Suzie’s clit till it slips from her mouth as she cries out. I never last long in Mary’s arse but this time I can feel the whip handle in her cunt pressing against the underside of my cock and I know I will come very soon.

She is shouting now, a long stream of repetitive invective that sounds strange from the mouth of one so young.  Rather than pull my cock from her tight grip, I move the whip in and out of her cunt, driving us both towards a climax. Suzie has raised her head and is trying to capture my balls in her mouth. The touch of her tongue launches my sperm on its frantic race into Mary’s bowels. Mary arches her back as far as the rope will allow and then lies on Suzie with deathly stillness.

Gently I remove myself and the whip handle from Mary. Some of my cum drips from her arse, over her bruised cunt and pools at the base of Suzie’s neck. Both my balls are now in Suzie’s mouth. She seems to be trying to juggle them with her tongue. I open her mouth with my hand, kiss her briefly on the lips and say “Your turn”.

Walking around the coffee table, I see that Mary is almost asleep on top of Suzie, who’s completely unhooded clit stands ignored centimetres away from her mouth. Not for the first time I consider how complete Suzie’s clit would look if it was pierced.

They have both done well. They look magnificent. I bend to give Suzie her reward.

Prevented by the rope from opening her knees, she has been trying to press her legs together as closely as possible. Her upper thighs are slick with sweat, saliva and cunt juice. My lips close around her clit as my tongue caresses it. One finger pushes down between her tightly closed thighs to find itself sheathed in her plump wet labia. Her thighs flex. Her breathing halts. Then, with a moan so low I feel rather than hear it, she comes with her clit still in my mouth.


© Mike Kimera 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk


A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.

Have A Nice Day

“Have A Nice Day” is a very early story of mine. It is pure porn. I’ve resisted the temptation to edit it into something smoother because I’ve had so many people tell me that, when they need some finger fun, this is the story that they reach for.

If you are looking for inner spiritual meaning, you won’t find it here. You will find a fast sequence of hardcore set pieces. Please enjoy this story in the spirit in which it was written.

 

Have A Nice Day

The message I sent you on the beeper said, “Open the box in private – but open it at once”. Five minutes later, at 11.30, UPS deliver a parcel marked “PERSONAL” to your desk at work. Everyone notices, but you go to the bathroom immediately to open it.

It contains: a note, a condom, and a large black dildo; one of those anatomically correct but way out of scale dildos, all veins and ridges, made out of silicone so that they bend and feel warm to the touch. It looks huge in your hand. It must be ten inches long and three inches around. You find yourself playing with it; feeling the weight in the palm of your hand. Without thinking you rub the head against you cheek. Then you remember the note. It says, “Take off your panties. Fold them and put them in your purse. Slide the condom over the dildo and push the dildo all the way into your cunt. DO NOT fuck yourself with it. Go to our table at Starbucks at 12:15″

Your cunt is very wet. Surely you think; this huge dildo will never fit. Then you realise you will have to go back to the office with it inside you and wait until it’s time to walk to the coffee shop round the corner. You think of how this monster will feel in your cunt as you walk. You notice that you are squeezing the rubber cock in your hand. With sudden determination you take off your panties – red silk today – fold them and put them in your purse.

You have just ripped the foil on the condom when you hear people enter the toilet. You don’t have time to wait. You roll the condom down over the black cock in your hands – shit this feels so real you half expect it to spit cum at you – hoping no one will recognise that condom smell. You put one foot up on the toilet bowl, open yourself as wide as you can, and start to push the monster in.

Someone enters the stall next to yours. You are struggling to take it all inside you. Trying not to be heard. Trying not to just fuck yourself crazy with this invader. You get most of it inside you. Two inches protrude. You sit on the toilet seat, and, balancing on the base of the dildo. You push hard. It slides in slowly, making you groan.

The black dildo is now deep in your cunt. The pressure is so great you have to pee right there and then. Just peeing makes your clit ache. Your pussy lips don’t quite close over the end of the dildo. You wipe yourself, pull down your skirt and step out of the cubicle. In the mirror you see that your nipples are very prominent and that your legs are slightly parted causing your skirt to rise up a little. They are bound to notice something in the office

You return to your desk. The beeper goes. You read “How does it feel?”. The beeper goes again. “Cross your legs”. You obey and feel the rubber cock move inside you. Three minutes ’til you leave for Starbucks. A colleague comes to your desk and asks you if you’d like to go to lunch. You think he’s looking at your hard nipples. Can he smell you? You want to look at his cock to see if it’s hard but you daren’t risk it. You smile and decline his offer.

Walking has never been so difficult. Although you know how tightly held the cock is you worry it will slip out. You feel as though your legs are spread wide as you walk. Your hips sway slightly more than normal. This attracts attention. You try to hurry and have to stand still suddenly. The pressure is too much. You walk slowly to our table at Starbucks. The beeper goes “Don’t turn around. I’m watching you. Fits snugly doesn’t it?” You reach Starbucks as you finish reading the message.

Our table is taken. A beautiful black woman in a stylish business suit of a yellow so bright only her dark skin could carry it off, is sitting at it. You turn to look for me when the woman smiles, stands and embraces you.

“Jenny” she cries hugging you to her.

She is six foot, slim, long black hair, wide mouth, bright teeth, high cheekbones. There is no blouse under the business jacket.

As she hugs you she whispers “It’s a very BIG dildo isn’t it Jenny. Sit very close to me, raise your skirt so your bare ass is on the chair and keep your legs a little apart. Michael sent me”.

She kisses you on both cheeks and sits down.

You are shocked. I’ve never done this to you before.

Your beeper goes “DO AS SHE SAYS”.

When you look up you see that her eyes are focussed on your nipples. Seeing your look she smiles and licks her lips. You sit. The shiny aluminium chair is cold against your flesh. She moves her chair closer to yours and, as she passes you a latte with her left hand, her right hand slides up your thigh to your cunt.

“Don’t spill the coffee on this nice skirt” she says and looks you in the eyes as her fingers trace your swollen cunt lips and feel the butt of the dildo at the entrance to your pussy.

You sit absolutely still. She pushes gently on the dildo but it doesn’t move. Her fingers stroke back down your thigh in slow circles.

She brings her fingers to her lips and licks them. “I love a tight wet cunt” she says. “I was told you would be good”.

You look down at your coffee.

“Nice nipples too – glad to see there’s no bra… I’m going to use you Jenny – with your permission – I do have your permission don’t I?” she pauses.

You look up. “Yes you have my permission to use me… I would like that”.

She makes a call on her cellphone and a white stretch limo pulls up. She leads you to the limo by the hand. You worry about getting in without flashing your dildo filled cunt at the world. People know you here. She solves the problem for you. Once the door is open she pushes you hard on the back of the head and you fall into the limo face first, ass in the air. As you scramble for balance you hear the sound of yourself coming. The video in the limo shows you being fucked by me and coming hard.

“Don’t just lie there Jenny, take a seat and watch the show – I’ve seen it twice. My names Lily, by the way.”

You look up and then past her and finally you see me sitting in the centre of a bench seat. I look at you but say nothing.

Lily lifts you easily and places you in the centre of the bench seat opposite. She ties each of your ankles to a car door, spreading your legs so wide the muscles on the inside of your thighs tremble. Lily pushes back your skirt so that your whole ass is visible. She lifts both of your hands above your head and ties them to a headrest. Your back is arched. Only your ass is on the seat. You sway slightly as the car moves.

Lily sits beside me and we both watch you. The video is on loop and starts with you on the floor, tied, with my cock in your mouth. Lily kisses me and unzips my cock. I push her head down on it while keeping my eyes on you. The black dildo is visible in your swollen cunt. Already I can smell your juices. Your eyes plead with me for attention.

I pull Lily’s head off my cock and push her towards you.

“You’re getting the seat damp Jenny” Lily says.

Her fingers trace the outline of your wet cunt lips around the dildo butt. You moan and look away. She kneels between your legs and licks your clit. Your ass bounces on the seat.

“Show her” I say.

Lily takes off the yellow jacket. Her breasts are very round. They both have large gold nipple-rings. She hefts one breast in her hand and licks the nipple with her long tongue. Shimmying out of her skirt she exposes a shaved pussy and a tight muscled ass. She is wearing a harness round her hips and between her legs. Seeing you look at it, she points to a ring on the harness just above her clit. “This is what the butt of that dildo slots into Jenny. I’m going to have such fun fucking you with it. Maybe we should see how well it fits your ass”

You look at Lily, licking your lips. “Come fuck me with your big cock bitch” you moan, your hips swaying and your pussy gripping the dildo.

I grin at your response. “I told you she was good, Lily. Enjoy her”.

Lily licks her way up your thighs. Her tongue penetrates you ass. She pushes deeply into you. Her strong tongue passes through your rose. She sucks hard. Her large lips move up. She takes the dildo in her teeth and pulls it back by an inch. She slots it into the belt.

“Fuck me,” you say and push yourself forward, pressing the dildo against her mound.

You feel the huge dildo slide deep in you as Lily rams it in and out of you. Bouncing your hips off the car seat to meet each thrust, you push back on the dildo so she feels it against her clit. Both of you moan as she fucks you. Your bodies are covered with sweat as she pushes faster and deeper into your hot cunt.

I reach over and pull on her nipple rings as I tweak your tit. I push two fingers up your ass as Lily pushes hard, burying the dildo deep in your cunt. You pull on the ropes as you feel the dildo stretch your tight pussy, then push back on it, making Lily moan. Faster and faster she fucks into you, your body squirming as I ram my fingers up your hot moist ass.

Lily pushes deep into you, grinding her hips against you as she comes. I shove my fingers further into your ass and pinch your clit making you scream as you cum.

I release your hands and legs, sit on the seat you have made damp and then retie your hands behind your back, leaving your legs free as you kneel in front of me. Grabbing your head, I force my cock into your wet mouth. You feel Lily’s hands stroking your back as your lips slide up and down my hard cock. Knowing that you love it, I push your head down onto my cock. It lodges with comfortable familiarity deep in your throat.

A shiver runs through your body as you groan against my cock, Lily pushes her fingers into your ass. Looking into my eyes you suck me hard and deep, with your tongue twirling around my cock. Lily fingers your ass as I fuck my cock in and out of your mouth. I hear you moan and feel you jerk as Lily pushes the big dildo up your tight ass. I watch as the big black dildo disappears, spreading your ass hole as inch by inch sinks into your tight tunnel. Your ass squirms prettily as Lily impales you on the huge rod. Reflexively your ass ring tightens, fighting to keep out the dildo splitting you.

I keep your mouth on my cock as you arch your back trying to lift your head up and scream in pain. Lily smiles to herself and then grins at me as she twists the dildo in your ass making your body jerk. I watch as she pulls it out until just the crown is surrounded by your ass ring. I nod my head at her and with one forceful stroke she buries the dildo deep into your ass as I push down on your head and flex my hips forcing my cock fully into your throat. You feel my cock pulse as I cum down your throat, filling you with my hot cum. I spit the command “Drink it” at you and feel your throat tighten as you swallow my sperm.

I untie your hands and hug you to me. I kiss you on your cum filled mouth. Lily has detached the dildo from her harness leaving it buried in your ass. She is licking carefully at the small smears of blood around your ring.

“Help me tie Lily” I say.

Lily lies back in the seat, taking up more of it than you did. We spread her legs so wide the pink inside her slit is visible. With clever knots you tie her outstretched legs making her lean forward slightly. You kneel back to look at her.

I raise your hands above your head and slip off your top. It is the first time Lily has seen your breasts. From behind you I cup them, kissing your neck, working on the hard nipples, while you smile at Lily.

The elegant gold nipple clamps close brutally over each of your nipples in turn. You bite your lip as I connect each of your clamps to one of Lily’s nipple rings by five inches of gold chain. You are very close to one another now but not touching.

I pull you backwards on your heels and then further, until your breasts and hers are both stretched and the little gold chains are taut.

Lily’s eyes go wide as she thinks of the nipple rings being ripped from her. I know she is a screamer. I reach into your purse and find the panties you placed there earlier.

“Use these to gag her” I say and let go of you.

You climb between Lily’s legs pressing against her. You kiss her large lips, pushing your tongue in her mouth and sucking her thick lower lip. You place the gusset of your panties against her tongue and fill her mouth with them. Then you kiss her throat, hands resting on her breasts.

“Lily likes to be fisted,” I say “but she’s never been fisted in her little brown hole. I think you could put one of your small hands in each hole at the same time, don’t you, Jenny?”

Lily’s starts to struggle, shaking her head and jiggling the chains that bind you together.

You make eye contact with her, smile wickedly and say, “I would enjoy that.”

You kiss Lily on lips and whisper in her ear “I do have your permission to use you don’t I, Lily, to use you harder than you’ve ever been used before?”

Lily pauses, feeling your tongue trace its way down her neck. She nods briefly but will not look at you.

I smear KY over your hands and wrists. You place your right hand against her anus and push. Nothing happens. I hold your forearm and push your tiny fist with all my strength. Lily thrashes like a dying fish as you slide into her past your wrist. You pull back a little and watch her asshole start to turn inside out. Then you thrust your hand all the way in.

You place your left hand on her cunt. The lips are swollen. Pink is clearly visible. Juices are running from her cunt to where your arm is buried in her ass. You laugh and slide you fist easily into her pussy.

I watch your delight as you discover that you can rub your hands together. Even muffled by the gag Lily’s screams are loud.

I turn on the stereo. “Wanna lover with a slow hand” drowns out Lily’s moans.

My cock is hard again. I slip it into your cunt from behind, feeling how the dildo in your ass squeezes me. You fuck Lily to the rhythm of my cock in your cunt. Lily’s body is now covered in sweat. Her asshole is stretched as wide as her mouth.

I know I won’t last long inside you. Your whole cunt is massaging my cock. On the outward pull of your arms you lean back so you can pull Lily’s breasts with your own. On the inward stroke you push deep into her and lean your breasts against her. With each stroke your cunt massages my cock. You are close to orgasm now. My hand finds your bud and coaxes it. As you cum you push deeper yet into Lily and lie gasping against her breasts.

I pull out of you and wank over Lily’s face. She hardly notices, she is coming in both holes at once trapping your hands in her flesh. She passes out.

Still with your hands in her you lick my cum from her face and neck. For a few moments you are lost only to the sensations of licking and tasting. I know that you are completely focused now.

“Time to go back to work, Jenny.”

You look at me confused. I kiss your forehead and pull your hands from Lily. I pass you wet-ones to clean yourself with.

You reach to remove the dildo from your ass.

“Leave it there. I’ll beep you to say when you can remove it.”

I take your panties from Lily’s mouth.

“Put these on and straighten your skirt.” I say as I gently remove the nipple clamps.

“You have done well Jenny, I’m pleased with you.”

The limo halts as you slide the top back on over your sensitive nipples. I step out of the car and pull you to your feet on the kerb.

“You’ll want to freshen up” I say and you become aware of your smudged lipstick and dishevelled hair. You are outside the main entrance to your office.

I kiss your forehead, whisper “Have a nice day” in your ear and get into the limo and leave.

 


© Mike Kimera 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk

 


A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.

Filling Usha

Not all D/s relationships need the paraphernalia of collars,shackles, whips, chains, clamps and gags – fun as they can be in the right hands. Sometimes all that’s necessary is that appetites of the Dom and Sub are in harmony. And, of course, a little love always helps.

“Filling Usha” is a story about a couple who have a ” courtship of eloquent body language and coarse words.” Do you think this is a D/s relationship? Does it matter? Let me know what you think.

 

Filling Usha

Usha holds the head of the large white vibrator against her plump labia and waits until I give the signal. She knows I never fuck her until after I have seen her come at least once.

She is naked on the bed, facing me, legs spread, weight on her elbows. The vibrator is a gift from me. It looks startlingly pale against her coffee-coloured skin.

I have often watched Usha’s flesh sheen like satin with sex-sweat; I have tasted its most intimate folds and clung with my teeth to its highest peaks and I never tire of it.

Usha said once that I look at her the way a half-starved man looks at a Vegas-style “all you can eat” buffet, not sure he can eat it all but real determined to try.

Today is Friday. I’ve been away all week. Our fucking has been restricted to phone sex. All through the drive back I have been thinking about how it feels when Usha’s cunt spasms around my cock. I knew she would be ready to party as soon as I got home. I found her kneeling on the bed, displaying her freshly shaved mound and her lubed ass.

When I handed her the new vibe she grinned, rubbed it lewdly between her small breasts and said, “I sure hope batteries are included.”

I pulled up a wooden chair and sat less than a foot away from her, my body as stiff as the chair itself, my attention completely on her.

“Put it against your cunt,” I said.

Ours is a courtship of eloquent body language and coarse words.

So now she is waiting. I can see she that wants to take it inside her. Usha likes large toys.

On my 40th birthday, Usha turned up at my house wearing nothing but a T-shirt with “Happiness is a full cunt and a hard come” written across it. I try my best to make Usha happy as often as possible.

I make her wait. It meets a need in both of us. I can almost taste Usha’s yearning now.

“Do it,” I say “but do it slowly.”

She leers at me when the crown of the fake cock pushes past her labia. That leer is a challenge she knows I will rise to.

When the first six inches are in, she throws her head back. She is still resting on her elbows facing me. Her chin juts like a weapon. One hand moves slyly up to her breast, plucking at the nipple. The other hand pushes hard. She grunts and takes the huge phallus deep into her cunt. Her eyes are closed. She is grinning in triumph.

“Turn it on to high,” I say. “Pump it. Stretch that tight wet cunt for me. Show me you can take it.” I am undressing as I speak, flinging away my coat and tie but never taking my eyes off her.

Usha lets herself fall back onto the bed, bends her knees, spreads wide and fucks herself rapidly. My cock hardens. I am naked to the waist, leaning forward in the chair, devouring the sight of her. I am ready for the next step.

“Turn around,” I say. “I want your ass in the air and your face buried in the pillow. DON’T take that thing out of your cunt until I give you permission.”

She mutters in protest at having her rhythm broken. She keeps working the vibe as she struggles to get in the right position. When her ass is all the way up, she sets up a pattern of slow, deep, penetration. Her hand, reaching back over the soft curves of her ass, working the vibrator like a natural extension of her fingers, reminds me of the nodding-donkey rigs on the smaller Texas oil fields. Usha is drilling for her come.

Behind her, out of sight, I rip open the foil wrapper on a condom. She misreads the signs and says “Yeah Baby, do me. Fill me right up.”

The condom-covered vibe that I push slowly into her lubed ass is completely unexpected. It looks like a slim silver cigar case lodged in her ass. I am holding it by the base. When it is all the way in, I turn the buzzy little motor to maximum speed.

“No you bastard, I want cock. I want YOUR cock,” Usha says.

I step back, pleased with the symmetry of her plastic penetrators.

“Leave them both in you,” I say. “Concentrate. Squeeze them. Try to suck them into you.”

The vibes are starting to get to her. Usha presses her face into the pillow and mutters “Bastard,” over and over.

“I said SQUEEZE them.”

She grunts with the effort of obeying me. She is starting to sweat. She is almost ready.

“Get up. Kneel in front of me. Grab your ankles. Look at me.”

Her pupils have dilated. Her forehead is dewed with sweat. I can smell her cunt.

I free myself from the last remnants of my office clothes. I let my hard cock stand inches from her breasts.

Usha licks her lips.

“Come for me, Usha. Let those double dicks do you. Show me you can take them. Ride that come. Ride it.”

“YES,” she shouts and the rest is a scream. A long, stretched, luscious scream.

Her back arches. The muscles on her thighs and forearms clench. The come ripples almost visibly through her belly, over her breasts and shakes her head from side to side as it struggles to break free from her.

“Good girl,” I say softly. “Come for me, Usha. Come hard.”

When she is done I touch her for the first time, my thumb brushing her lower lip. She leans her head on my chest, dampening me with her sweat.

Gently I remove the vibes. She is wet and gaping.

I lay her on the bed. All her muscles are relaxed but her face is animated. She knows what will happen next and she wants it.

I am above Usha now, my arms taking all my weight, my cock pleading for action.

Her small hands are stroking my ribs and sliding over my ass. She is ready to climb on me the way a monkey shimmies up a tree.

“Put it against your cunt,” I say and her cool fingers press me against the slick swollen warmth of her labia. Flowers are the sex organs of plants. Usha’s petals are ready to fuck me.

I lower my head. She is so much smaller than me that I completely cover her when I do this. I kiss her mouth.

“Fill yourself,” I say.

Usha’s hips rise and her cunt slips over me, sucking at me with wet eagerness. I push my tongue into her mouth. She wraps her legs around my waist.

“Fuck me, you bastard,” she says.

How can I resist such a romantic request? I rest all my weight on her, cup her buttocks in my hands and start to drill for her happiness.


© Mike Kimera 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk


A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.

Tiger, Tiger

This story presents a D/s relationship as an act of poetry, hence the reference to Blake’s poem. That may seem a little fanciful, an excuse for purple prose in an attempt to lift a porn scene into something more intellectual. In my experience, the D/s world has an above average number of people who are prone to introspection.

I wonder if it is their insight and their need to create meaning, that stands between them and full satisfaction from vanilla sex or if perhaps it is the discipline and the subtle nuances of the power relationship in D/s that finally allow them to combine mind and flesh. This story is dedicated to all of the folks out there who continue to search for acts that bring poetry into their daily lives. I wish them success.

 

Tiger Tiger

The moonlight through the blinds forms stripes of shadow across her pale flesh. She burns in the darkness, a sex candle, filling the room with her scent and the heat of her need.

If the gag were removed she would curse me. Even with the small rubber penis pressing her tongue flat she is cursing me with her eyes.

“Tiger, tiger burning bright.”

I know she hasn’t come in days.

I know, though she does not, that she came to me to come to herself again.

Yet she fights it. Hands bound behind her back, spreaderbar pushing her legs wide, she twists at the waist, lifting her shoulders off the bed, drilling her eyes into my flesh.

The vibrator is very small, a little cylinder rounded at each end, about an inch long. It looks so harmless taped to her clit. It is set at low. It has been set at low for thirty minutes. Her tiger stripes are slick with sweat. Her hair is a damp mane I find irresistible.

Her eyes narrow as she sees me finally undress.

She must have known I would do this.

Mustn’t she?

Must have known how her energy would stiffen my resolve?

The spreaderbar is tied across the headboard. She has been watching me in the mirror. I have been sitting silently in the bedside chair. Now my pale, hair-strewn flesh shines in the mirror, looming towards her from out of the darkness. She thinks, perhaps, that I am the match for her candle. I feel I am the moth for her flame.

The first touch sears us. Her nipple so hard between my lips. Her shoulders moving so that she could be struggling from me or into me. My fingers close around strands of sweat soaked hair, pulling her face to mine, kissing the space between those flaring eyes.

I straddle her. She looks disappointed or maybe disgusted. Another man after a cheap blowjob or a titfuck fantasy?

I undo the gag. She sputters and licks at her mouth and swears at me. She stops briefly when I put the gag, still wet from her, in my own mouth.

I slide down her, between her parted legs. I don’t listen to the meaning of the words she throws at me. They are like the first fierce drops of rain against my skin in a thunderstorm that may last for hours, shockingly direct and promising much.

“Bastard,” she shouts as I rip off the vibrator taped to her.

With the gag I can’t lick her. Instead I push my cheek against her labia. So much heat. The smell slides over me and into me. My cheek glistens. By the time I run my nose softly over her clit and down between her sex the first torrent of words has slowed to a drizzle of abuse.

There are a few seconds of clumsy fumbling as I untie her ankle-cuffs from the spreaderbar and then push her ankles, still spread wide, up towards her head. When she is split below me, her knees almost touching her breasts, we both pause.

We ought to be able to see the lightning that flashes between us. We both know it is there, pinning us in this moment of brightness. She with all the fury of arousal, me pointed directly at the eye of the storm. The pounding of the blood in my ears sounds like thunder when she finally pushes upwards just enough to suck the tip of me into her, completing the circuit and making the energy flow.

Sex always surprises me. I try not to channel it, just to ride the flow. When I bound her, I had a flickering thought that I would be above her drilling her into this bed. Yet instead I slide slowly, like a ship coming gratefully into harbour, gliding through the softly rippled water until I come to rest against her. She sighs or perhaps just groans at my weight.

More fumbling as I reach behind her and unclip one cuff from the other. She hadn’t expected that. But she doesn’t wait. Even as the blood returns to her arms, her hands are in my hair, clawing at my head. She could bite me now. She could rip at my throat.

My cock pulses inside her.

She rips off the gag and kisses me, sucking out my tongue. My hands slide behind her back lifting her. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me downwards.

I’m not sure which of us starts the roll that brings her out on top. Already it seems that the idea of our bodies as separate things is absurd. The tiger has us both now.

Her fingernails rake my chest as she drives down onto me, head back, breasts being licked by the moonlight. My head is off the foot of the bed. I watch us in the mirror.

“Tiger, tiger burning bright

In the forest of the night

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?”

It seems to me we are moving to the slow beat of Blake’s poem.

What immortal hand or eye?

This moment. This union. This confluence of need. This is what makes us immortal.

That seems like a truth for me just before the second when all words lose meaning and my body releases itself from my mind and does its best to merge with hers, flowing into her, filling her, until both of us are released from mortal need.

Afterwards I watch her, curled on the rumpled sheets, sleeping. The tiger has left us. She is all woman again now. She looks strong and vulnerable.

There seems to be a cord binding my guts to the beat of her heart. Each breath tugs at me with an emotion we never name, demanding a word we never use. Maybe, when she wakes, I can persuade her that we are more than the tiger. Maybe in the morning, in the light of day, I can ask her just to love me. Maybe I can explain that she has already everything I can offer but I still want to give her more.

I settle in behind her, sliding my hand between the concavity at the top of her thighs. I let myself relish the warmth of her skin and the scent of her sweat.

As sleep pushes me downwards I accept that, in the morning, things will continue as they are, questions unasked will remain unanswered, but in the night, in that dark forest, we will again seek each other out. It is a good thought on which to yield to sleep.

 


© Mike Kimera 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk

 


A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.


Going Public

“Going Public” is a brutal fantasy about the public use and abuse of a submissive woman. The scene is intense but there is little characterization and no back story.

This is a “Do Not Try This At Home” story that is violent and will not be to everyone’s taste. Definitely more porn that erotica.

 

Going Public

I am so aroused I feel as though my cock could punch through steel. It seems to me that every day in the last six months has lead to this, the moment of Fiona’s public submission. Now it is here I am so flooded with adrenalin that time has expanded, my senses are tuned to high and my excitement has become an unnatural calm.

Fiona, delicate, butter-wouldn’t melt, wicked, lascivious, delightful Fiona, is kneeling in front of me. She is naked apart from her white stockings. Her pale skin is innocent of the sun’s caress. Her hair is white not blonde and is completely straight. Her nipples look like berries, obscenely ripe and ready to be plucked.

The kneeling is not new. For weeks now she has greeted me like this when I return from work. What is different is that she is bound and we are far from being alone.

My erection is due in part to the excitement of tying her and in part to the presence of this audience.

I have done a good job both in terms of restraint and display. Fiona’s legs are pushed almost painfully far apart by a wooden block fastened between her knees. Her hands are roped, wrists to forearm. Another rope above her elbows pulls her arms back and raises her breasts. I have shaved her cunt and drawn her thick hair back into a ponytail held by a leather ring. Narrow threads of silk go from the ring, between her buttocks, outside her cunt lips, through the eyelets on the nipple clamps and come together at the clamp on her outstretched tongue.

Each time she eases the pressure on her tongue by moving her head forward the silk threads saw into her soft flesh and the clamps, which have serrated edges, bite into her breasts and pull them.

I am standing behind her, my erection resting on her shoulder. The mirror in front and behind her mean that we can both see how stretched and vulnerable she looks.

A powerful lamp creates a circle of light around us. At the edge of the light, their faces hidden in shadow, people stand in a circle, watching. I kiss the top of Fiona’s head, murmur, “This is your night,” and step back into the shadows.

The first man steps forward from the circle. His cock is small and not yet hard. He pushes Fiona’s head back and holds it there. The pressure on her tongue must be immense. He points his small cock at her mouth and pisses on her tongue.  The crowd cheers. He twists her left nipple, as he wipes his cock on her ponytail, then he rejoins the circle of shadows.

A young girl, with coffee-coloured skin, long coltish legs, braided hair decorated with beads, wipes the piss from Fiona’s face and breasts, kisses her neck and steps back into the darkness.

I watch for signs of distress or fear but Fiona’s eyes show only tension and arousal. She has started the long slow journey to leaving herself behind and melting into the flow of sensation.

A heavily built woman steps forward. She is wearing a business suit and carrying a tabletennis bat with holes drilled through it. Her name is Jenny. I have promised to bring her grief if she goes too far with Fiona. She can, sometimes, be excessive. Jenny kisses Fiona’s forehead. She straightens, smiles enigmatically at me, and then uses the bat with all her strength to knock Fiona’s breasts from side to side. At least that is how is seems. I know she must have pulled the stroke at the end but the effect is dramatic. She waits for the breasts to stop moving before she hits them again. Two blows to each breast. Looking Fiona in the eyes she pushes the handle of the bat into the kneeling woman’s exposed cunt and steps away.

Fiona’s legs are trembling slightly. Her eyes are filled with tears. Her breasts are starting to bruise, showing the checkered pattern of the bat. I stand above her and smile. I lean close to her ear “You look wonderful” I whisper as I release her tongue. I retie the threads to the nipple clamps; shortening them to pull on Fiona’s ponytail and force her head all the way back. The silk threads dig deeper into her flesh, making her labia swell. As a final touch I thread an elasticated cord between the rings on the nipple clamps, pulling Fiona’s bruised breasts together. “Enjoy,” I say, running my finger very briefly over her clit.

The young girl gives Fiona water to drink and puts salve on her lips. She massages oil into Fiona’s breasts, pushing them together gently. The nipples on the girl’s tiny breasts rise as she does this. She leaves the bat where it is, obscenely lodged in Fiona’s cunt. Already the handle is darkening from the flow of her juices.

Two men step forward together. One stands behind, the other in front, of Fiona. They take turns pushing their cocks into her mouth. Then they both enter it together, though they can only get the heads of their cocks in.  Fiona’s mouth is stretched. They push downwards. The bat touches the wood between her knees and is then pushed deeper into her.  Their cocks fight for mouth space. Her cheeks bulge. Perfectly coordinated, they pull out and come on her finely angled cheekbones. People clap politely. Performing a double facefuck with such perfect coordination and without dislocating Fiona’s jaw takes skill. The two men hold hands and then bow to the crowd.

The young girl squats in front of Fiona, braces herself by putting her hands on Fiona’s shoulders, and slowly, carefully, cleans Fiona’s face with her tongue. She looks like a kitten lapping cream. I can see the desire in Fiona’s face. “Please…” Fiona says, but the girl pushes Fiona’s mouth closed and licks the final traces of cum from her lips and steps away.

A teenager and an older woman step into the light. The woman leads him into the circle, her hand around his balls. She is known as Spiderwoman, because she likes to eat her mates. Even by Spiderwoman’s standards this boy is beautiful. His cock is average length but very wide. It curves up towards his belly and sways stiffly with every step he takes. With her head held back Fiona can only see their approach in the mirror behind her, but she strains to see. The threads push her cunt lips more tightly around the bat handle. Herr tongue moves across her upper lip as her eyes follow the progress of the boy’s cock.

The woman leads him to Fiona and places his cock into the channel made by her tied together tits. She kneels behind Fiona, pressing her breasts into Fiona’s back. She holds her hands in front of Fiona so that she can see that each one holds a pin, 4″ long, made of thin, sterile surgical steel. They are very very sharp. She pushes the pins into the undersides of Fiona’s breasts and uses them to wrap your breasts around the boy’s cock. I’ve felt this woman’s “bite” and I can imagine the line of heat that follows the shock of the penetration of the flesh. I tense, anxious to know if Fiona is groaning in pain or pleasure. My question is answered when she pushes out her tongue, trying to lick the end of the cock that is pushing through her breasts. Spiderwoman pulls Fiona’s head backwards, denying her the taste.

“Would you like his thick cock in you bitch?” Spiderwoman asks. “Do you want him pounding your wet cunt?”

“Yes” Fiona says, “please yes”.

Spiderwoman pushes her tongue into Fiona’s mouth. She looks like a predator crouched over Fiona’s small body.

“Please Miss, I’m nearly there. May I come please?”

Spiderwoman leaves the pins in Fiona’s breasts. With one hand she holds Fiona’s hair, with the other she strokes her belly just above the clit.

She lifts her mouth from Fiona’s, looks at her and says, “Come on the slut boy. Fuck her tits hard”.

Fiona yelps as the boy pulls on her nipple clamps, jambs his cock between her breasts, arches his back and shoots his cum over her neck and face and hair.

“Let me suck you. Please,” Fiona says.

The boy steps forward. Spiderwoman holds Fiona’s face next to her own and then sucks his softening cock. Fiona struggles to touch the cock but Spiderwoman pushes her questing tongue away.

Spiderwoman looks triumphant as she rises and leads the boy back into the crowd.

I am distracted by the crowd, which is getting noisy and excited. It takes me a little while to notice that Fiona rocking slowly and repeating, “please, please, please” like a mantra.

I bend to speak into her. “Tell us what you want” I say. “Let everyone know what you want”.

Fiona pauses, she looks out into the crowd and says, loudly and distinctly ” I want to come.”

There is applause. Fiona has done well.

“I have a gift for you,” I say, leading the girl with braided hair forward. “Her name is Afsi”.

I cut the threads holding back Fiona’s head. Afsi kneels in front of Fiona and catches her when she falls forward after I remove the bat from her cunt and the wooden block between her legs.

Fiona’s hands are still tied behind her. Afsi moves her mouth across Fiona’s breasts. She pulls out the sharp pins Spiderwoman left behind, unclamps Fiona’s nipples and suckles them as the blood rushes back in painfully fast. At a signal from me, Afsi lies on her back and scoots along eagerly so that her head is between Fiona’s legs. I push Fiona forward so that all her weight is on the girl.

“She will eat you while I take your arse” I say.

“Yes. Please yes.” Fiona says.

She lies with her chin on Afsi’s mound. Afsi’s tongue is working patiently along Fiona’s slit. Afsi holds Fiona’s cheeks apart for me. I slap Fiona’s arse with my cock, hold of the rope binding her arms and enter her. It is a tight fit and even with lube it, takes me three thrusts to get all the way in.

A hand, then another and another, touches Fiona, stroking her face, her shoulders, her breasts. All the people in the circle have come forward to pet and caress her. Every part of her is being touched, as her sense fill with the gentle touch of Afsi’s tongue and the urgent penetration of my cock.

Fiona lets her head fall forward and she starts to lap at Afsi’s clit in time to the beat of my cock in her arse. I fuck harder and faster. Fiona’s moan is now very loud, almost a howl. When I see her head start to toss from side to side I know she is almost there. Fiona’s cunt grips me, sucking the cum out of me. Afsi finally pushes two fingers into Fiona and digs for the G spot.

Fiona lifts her head and “FUCK YES” at all of us. I continue to ride her, lubricated by my own cum. She is lost to us now, oblivious to the people around her who are working alone or with others to find their own release.

When she is at last still, I cut the ropes that bind Fiona’s arms. Afsi and I help her to stand.  I pick Fiona up and hold her in my arms. Her eyes come back into focus and she smiles at me.  Then she reaches out a hand to pull Afsi close to us. They kiss properly for the first time.

“Welcome to the Group,” I say, leading them both to the comfort of a warm shower and fresh sheets.


© Mike Kimera 2002 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk


A story without a reader is incomplete. Please let me know what you think of this story by leaving a comment below.