0 comments/  65553 views/  1 favorites

Surrender

By: ThomasDignam



Working Sketch - Surrender

She has too exhausted to move, so she remained where he had left her; stretched across the bed, her limbs cast out to its corners, her head hanging slightly off the side. The cool air of the room caused her to shiver slightly, as the sweat of their lovemaking began to dry on her skin; but she did not move to cover herself in the bed covers, as she was not willing to disturb the remaining lethargic glow of their passion.

The shower from the bathroom next door had stopped some moments before; she could hear her partner toweling himself dry. Then, the connecting door opened, releasing a draft of moist, scented air, before he strode out along the bed. She glanced up, the only move she could manage in recognition, to watch him pass. 

Her attention moved naturally to his cock, its rigidity fascinating her. Its profile thrusted out from his hairy balls, before curving slightly back until its head knocking against his tight stomach in rhythm with his steps. Its eager absurdity caused both amusement and desire to dance across her mind. 

He did not stop, but moved around the bedpost, his hand resting in its carved top for a second before he passed outside of her restricted field of vision. For a second, she noticed a small plastic tube in his hand, but it gone before is could focus on it. 

A few moments later she felt him at the opposite end of the bed by her feet, the mattress giving slightly as he pressed his knees against it and reached forward to reach under the woman's legs. Running his hands down the smoothness of her calves, the slight roughness of his palms causing a tingle of sensation, she felt him draw her legs together. She was briefly puzzled by his actions, expecting him to take her immediately, his desire obvious from his erection, but this was quickly dispelled as he moved to grip her hip and begin to roll her over. 

"So this is how he means to have me", she thought, allowing the man to move her onto her front. Her thoughts were confirmed when he opened her legs again and climbed on the bed between them. 

Taking a pillow, the man lifted her slightly to push it under her belly. The manoeuvre presented her firm buttocks to him, spreading them to reveal her pussy. But, she remained a deadweight, content for him to arrange her body to his desire.

She did not typically like to be taken from behind, as she felt removed from her lover, turned into just an anonymous cunt for him to fuck. But she knew he liked it and the feeling of power that it gave him, so even in her antipathy, she would consent and get on her hands and knees if he asked. Now though, her weariness had consumed her. She did not care if she was purely was a cunt for him; she surrendered to his obsession, wishing only that he possess her again. 

She felt a thrill as a finger pushed through her damp pubic hairs and lightly rub her prominent clit. The light stokes increased in pressure, starting a new cycle of pleasure as her sex once more began to swell and unfurl, before the man swept up her sex and plunged three fingers into her. Even as she clung to her desire to remain passive, she could not help to arch her back slightly more and offer herself more as he thrust in fingers in and out. 

At the moment, she felt something cold and wet fall between her buttocks, before he drove his thumb into her anus. The shock of its entry exploded up her spine. As he repeatedly pulled his fingers and thumb out of her before pressing them back in, the mounting pleasuring caused her to whimper into the mattress, driving all thoughts from of her. And then his fingers left her, leaving her body arching to be filled once more. 

Leaning forward, he pressed his stomach against her butt; bring his cock between her legs. Moving forward, he pierced her labia to brush it blunt end up her pussy, its gentle touch at odd with the fierce carcasses of his hand. Her body relaxed completely as the culmination of her heady arousal approached. He lifted himself up from her body, paused and then he pushed forward with his hips into her. 

For a few moments before he entered her, she realised what he planned to do. As if he expected her to resist, he laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her moving away. And for that instant, fear and resistance nearly caused her to break from him. But, too far in her world of passivity, she could not stop him as his pressed his penis against her anus he had just lubricated with his thumb and force himself into her arse. 

Panic seized her. Whenever he had mentioned his fantasy to sodomise her, she had rejected it, fearing that the effort would cost her too much, horrified by its violence akin to rape. But now with him on top of her, she could do nothing, not even say no.

Though he did not thrust himself into her fiercely, she felt as if the firm pressure torn her open; her discomfort rising swiftly to pain, swamping any remaining notes of pleasure. She tried desperately to return to the earlier sweet warmth of lethargy, but the shock of his invasion barred this escape. As he pushed into her, the tension in her body increased, forcing her unwillingly lifted her face from the bed and gaping in lungfuls of air. 

The pain rose to a pinnacle so sharp she though she would scream, before with a jerk the head of the cock broke through. The pain's presence did not leave her though, but burnt around his manhood penetrating her anus. But its urgency lessened, as if the climax was passed, releasing the tension of her body and allowing her to lay her tear dampened check back onto the bed. 

She surrendered herself to her lover completely, accepting his cock as it slid fully inside her. Dimly aware of him deep within her arse, her sensations concentrated on the entrance of her body stretched wide by him, she let this act of brutal buggery make her his. 

After an instants pause, he began to move again, pulling himself back out of her. The new sensation surprised her, faint twists of uneasiness rippling through her stomach, before he thrust back down into her. Steadily, his thrust began to build up, rubbing her anus to reveal the pleasure that had been submerged beneath the earlier pain. The tide of the pleasure mounted irresistibly, raising her out of submission to the glorious intensity ecstasy. And in the midst of her pleasure, she lifted her hips so that she could embrace his cock more fully, allowing him deep into arse to come in her.

Surrender



My Mistress has instructed me to write this story, a retelling of events that recently occurred.  She wished that I would share it with others, as a pledge of my loyalty and as acknowledgment of my complete and utter submission to her.

-----------------------------------------

It started on a Friday two weeks ago sometime after lunch.  Miss Rebecca picked me up.  She was wearing tight fitting low-rise jeans, a white button down blouse, and black ankle-high boots.  First she took me to a matinee. Throughout the movie Miss Rebecca had me put my hand on her thigh.  Occasionally she would reach over to feel my cock, fully aware that as she was doing that I had a hard time concentrating on the movie.

After the movie we visited a bookstore.  Miss Rebecca bought me some coffee and we wandered around the bookstore.  We spent a good bit of time hanging out in the sexuality section.  Miss Rebecca teased me as she looked at the books and I stood beside her watching.  She would show me pages and things she was interested in and make comments directed toward me about what she saw.  Once again, she made sure to make me nervous by occasionally rubbing my cock as we stood there.  She made sure my shirt was tucked in and that my pants were fairly tight so there would always be a slight bulge in my pants for everyone to see.

After our time at the bookstore Miss Rebecca told me she had a surprise for me.  She drove us downtown.  I was not sure where we were going.  I was very surprised to end up at a high-rise hotel.  I had brought along some personal items and a change of clothes as Miss Rebecca had instructed. Originally I thought I would be needing these things because I was staying at her house.  The hotel caught me off-guard.

The hotel was beautiful.  It was like it was hollow.  It had a big courtyard in the middle that went all the way to the ceiling.  It must have been 30 or 40 stories high.  All the rooms lined the courtyard.  A hallway wrapped around each level, providing an open way from the elevators to each of the rooms.  On one side of the hallway were the rooms, on the other was a railing where you could look over and down to the courtyard below.

We checked into our room on the sixteenth floor.  It was a suite and very nice.  The front room was the living area with a couch, a coffee table, two chairs, a wet bar, and a television.  It had windows that faced out to the hallway.  The second room in the back of the suite was a bedroom with a king size bed, another television, a desk, a chair, and a dresser.

The bathroom was very large for a hotel.  It had a sunken tub and a separate shower.  By the time we got settled in it was about 6:30 p.m. Miss Rebecca requested my presence in the bar downstairs.  I escorted her down the elevator and she had a few glasses of wine in the bar. She oogled at some of the men there, telling me how she would like to fuck them.

After an hour or so we went to one of the restaurants in the hotel and had dinner.  At dinner Miss Rebecca requested that I keep one hand under the table at all times.  She wanted to use my hand to massage around and between her legs to help relax her.  As I did so she would whisper suggestive phrases in my ear and would also tell me how good my hand felt.  By then my cock had been hard almost nonstop since early in the afternoon and I was very eager to please Miss Rebecca.

After dinner we went back upstairs to our room.  Miss Rebecca instructed me to take a cold shower to calm myself down.  I did as she asked.  Before I stepped in my shower I ran a hot bath for her filling the tub with bubble bath.

By the time I got out of the shower the tub was full and ready.  Miss Rebecca entered the bathroom wearing a robe.  She let it drop to the floor exposing her luscious body as I helped her into the bathtub.  I proceeded to wash her gently with a warm, soapy washcloth.  She also requested that I help shave her legs.  I did that as well.  By then she had been in the tub twenty minutes and was ready to get out.

After the bath, Miss Rebecca told me to go out into the living room portion of the suite.  She told me she wanted to give me a present because I had been such a good boy lately.  I sat on the couch and waited completely naked for her as she had instructed.

After thirty minutes Miss Rebecca joined me.  She looked stunning after her bath.  She wore black high heels with straps that wrapped around her ankles.  She also had on a black leather miniskirt and fishnet stockings.  For a top she wore a white button down shirt that accentuated her figure.  Underneath I could see she was wearing a black lace bra.  Her makeup was perfect, topped with luscious, bright red lipstick.  Her hair seemed soft and perfect and she wore a hint of perfume that almost intoxicated me.  Miss Rebecca is always a beautiful woman, but I had never seen her look so incredibly sexy before.

When she came into the room she also carried a present wrapped in bright gold wrapping paper adorned with a white bow.  It was about the size of a shirt box.  I couldn't take my eyes off of her.  She smiled as she handed me the box.

She instructed me to open it and sat next to me on the couch as I did.  I slowly peeled off the wrapping paper, not quite sure what I would find inside.  When I finally saw it, I wasn't quite sure what to say.  I simply said "Thank you Miss Rebecca."

My gift was a strap-on harness and an accompanying dildo.  The harness was black leather meant to fit around a person's legs and waist.  The dildo was a realistic looking circumcised cock.  It was flesh-toned and rubbery and was about six inches long.  The harness had a place where different dildos could be held.  At this point my hands were shaking.  I wasn't sure what Miss Rebecca had in mind.

Without saying anther word, she got up from the couch and moved toward the window on one the side of the door.  She pulled back the curtains a bit, leaving about eight inches open where anybody walking by could see inside our room if they happened to be interested.  She turned back to face me with a grin on her face.

By now my heart was thumping so fast I thought it would jump out of my chest.  Miss Rebecca stood in the center of the room.  She instructed me to come and kneel before Her.  She was stood facing the window while I was kneeling with my back to it.

She slowly started unbuttoning her blouse as I waited on my knees in front of her.  When she was done with her blouse, she let it slide off her shoulders and onto the floor.  Then she reached around and unzipped the back of her skirt.  Very slowly she wriggled out of it as it slid down her legs and onto the floor.  She was wearing black lace bikini panties underneath.  She slowly slid these over her hips as well, leaving her standing before me in black fishnet stockings, high heels, and a black lace bra.  She looked down at me and smiled.

Then she picked up the strap-on harness and dildo from the nearby table.  Slowly she fastened it to her body.  When she was done she stared down at me and said "You may begin."

I hesitated at first, unsure of myself and very uneasy with my appointed task.  But I knew what she wanted me to do and so I did it.  I opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around the cock in front of me.  My lips slid up and down the shaft slowly as I took the cock deep into my mouth.  I looked up at her with my eyes begging her to let me stop.  She smiled back down at me and put her hand on the back of my head, encouraging me to continue.  I felt humiliated and wondered if anyone had passed by the window.

Miss Rebecca seemed to enjoy me on my knees in front of her very much.  She continually said things to encourage me further.

"Does my cock taste good?"

"Take it all in."

"Oh yeah, suck it, just like that."

All the while she kept her hand on the back of my head pushing my head and mouth up and down the shaft of her cock.

I was afraid of what would happen next, but in the back of my mind I knew.

Miss Rebecca finally stepped away leaving me alone on my knees in the center of the room.  She told me to crawl over the couch and then instructed me to bend over the arm.  I did as I was told, leaving my bare ass up in the air and facing the window.

I watched as Miss Rebecca calmly and deliberately got her purse and positioned herself behind me.  At that point I couldn't see what she was doing but it was obvious she was digging around in her purse.  The next thing I know I felt her hand slap my ass, before she moved to spread my cheeks apart.  I felt a warm, oil-like substance cover me.

Then I felt Miss Rebecca move closer to me.  I felt my cheeks part again as the tip of her cock slowly penetrated my crack.  She went very slow at first, pushing with the tip only, before grabbing my hips with both hands and slowly sliding her cock deep inside me.

As the cock slide inside of me, I let out a long, low groan and my body froze.  Slowly Miss Rebecca withdrew the cock from my ass, only to slowly and deliberately slide it back in.  As I bent over the edge of the couch, I used my arms to brace myself as she penetrated me.

She leaned forward, with her breasts pressed against my naked back, and whispered in my ear.

"I'm going to fuck you hard." 

With those words Miss Rebecca grunted as she slammed her pelvis into my ass, driving in her cock as deep as it would go. I yelped loudly at the sensation of her cock deep inside me.

Slowly she withdrew, only to slide the cock back in.  Gradually she pumped me harder and faster.  Grunting as she drove her cock into me over and over and over again.

I could do nothing but whine and whimper as she fucked me hard from behind.  The feeling was overwhelming.  I had never felt like this before.  As she fucked me, I realized that I had never truly submitted to her before.  To be bent over a couch and fucked hard in the ass, it was obvious who my Master was.  I felt like my body was truly her body to use as she felt.  There was nothing I could do but submit completely and utterly and let her whatever she pleased.  In that instant I became totally and completely hers.  More so that I had even been before.

She fucked me like that for the next five minutes.  Me bent over the couch, my ass up high in the air, with her standing behind me, her hands on my hips, slamming her cock into my ass again and again.

When she was done she simply dismounted.  My body was left flimsy bent over the arm of the couch.  Miss Rebecca didn't have to say anything.  I instinctively knew what to do next.  I got up from my prone position on the couch, crawled toward her, and from my position on the floor beneath her, took her hand and kissed it.

"Thank you Miss Rebecca."

Miss Rebecca looked down upon me and smiled.

As I looked up at her from my position below, I noticed that the window shade was still part way open.  I had no idea if anyone had watched or anyone had heard.  Both of our backs were to the window the whole time.

Miss Rebecca then led me through the short hallway in our suite toward the bedroom in the back.  She told me to get on the bed and lay on my back.  Soon thereafter she got on the bed and laid next to me.  She told me to play with myself and that she wanted to watch.

As I laid there next to her I began stroking my cock.  She teased me by fondling her luscious breasts and pinching her nipples as she watched my hands move up and down my shaft.  When I came, my cum spurted out, with gobs covering my stomach and chest.  I came with such force a bit even landed on my neck and the bottom of my chin.

Miss Rebecca seemed please with my performance.  She remained beside me and traced her fingers over my skin.  She asked me if I had been a good boy.  Before she let me answer she ran her fingers across my skin and scraped up some cum with her fingertips and brought it to my lips.  I instinctively opened my mouth as she fed it to me.

I told her yes, that I had been a good boy.  She nodded and once again She scooped up some of my cum and brought it to my lips.

She smiled as she put her finger in my mouth.  Then she brought more cum to my lips, asking me if I liked the taste.

"Yes, Miss Rebecca."

She continued to feed me my own cum and her fingers lightly traced my skin.  She asked if I had lusted after any other women or if I had stroked my cock without her permission.

"No Miss Rebecca."

She knew that I was lying.  She knew that I wasn't able to control myself and that I had cum without permission earlier that week.  My eyes betrayed me.

She fed me another cum soaked finger.

"Did you cum hard?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She continued to feed me cum as she stared at me with disapproval in her eyes.  I told her that she had filled my head with lust and that I could not resist.

"I'm sorry Miss Rebecca.  I am sorry for acting without your permission.  It will never happen again Miss Rebecca.  Please forgive me."

"Am I your Master?"

"Yes, Miss Rebecca."

"Then why did you cum without my permission?"

"I am sorry Miss Rebecca.  Please forgive me.  I know you are my Master.  My body is yours to do with as you please."

"Get up on all fours," she barked.

I immediately did as she asked.  She went to her bag and soon returned with a belt.  The next thing I felt was the sharp sting of leather across my ass.  Four more times I felt the leather across my skin.  After she was done she asked me if I knew who my Master was.

"Yes, Miss Rebecca.  You are my Master.  Totally and completely."

"I want you to prove it."

She grabbed another dildo from her bag.  This one was considerably bigger than the one she had just fucked me with.  It was realistic looking as well, but was nine inches long instead of the six inch dildo from before.

She asked me if I wanted to put it in my mouth.

"Yes, I do Miss Rebecca."

"Do you want to slide it in and out of your mouth and across your hot, wet lips?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Tell me how much you want to suck the big cock."

"I want to suck it long and hard Miss Rebecca.  I want it to fill my mouth.  I want to milk it dry."

Miss Rebecca smiled as she slowly fed me the cock.  She slid the shaft past my lips and deep into my mouth.  Over and over she slid it in and out.

"Does that taste good?"

"Yes," I mumbled.

"I bet it does."

Miss Rebecca grinned as I struggled to take in the huge cock.  After about five minutes of torture she finally eased up and pulled it out.  When she did I kissed her hand in reverence.

"Do you know who your Master is now?" she asked again.

I bowed my head and said "Yes Mistress."

I spent the rest of the night pleasing my Master.  I did whatever she wanted.

I licked her pussy.  She fucked my face.  I licked her ass.  I bent over her lap and she spanked me.  She straddled me and fucked my cock, squeezing my balls intermittently as she did, not letting me cum.  I licked her pussy some more and then her ass again.  I drove my tongue deep inside.

At 4 a.m. she was still not done.  She put me down on all fours and fucked me in the ass again.  She fucked me hard.  Grunting loudly with each thrust.  I squealed like a little slut as the cock penetrated me over and over again.  When she was done She reached around and stroked my cock, teasing me again until I was ready to cum.  Then she stopped and fucked my face once more.

At 5 a.m. she got down on all fours and I got behind her and licked her ass some more.  She had me stand in front of her as she squeezed and tortured my balls and cock, slapping both about.  She had me bend over and grab my ankles so she could get a good look at me.  She had me stroke myself as she watched.  Never letting me cum.

At 6 a.m. she ordered room service.  Pancakes and bacon for her.  A glass of juice for me.  After I called in the order we moved to the front room and Miss Rebecca opened the curtains a few inches wider.  She stood against the wall, her breasts and hands pressed against it, her legs spread a bit, and her ass thrust out.  She ordered me on my knees behind her.  She moaned and groaned loudly as my hands spread her cheeks and I buried my tongue deep inside her ass.  I didn't stop until there was a knock on the door with our breakfast.  Miss Rebecca calmly put on a robe.  She handed me a simple white towel to cover myself as I answered the door.  I answered it with my cock erect and a visible bulge underneath the towel.

Embarrassed and humiliated and not sure what the man had seen, I took the breakfast and followed Miss Rebecca back into the bedroom.

She allowed me time to clean myself up in the restroom.  When I returned she was eating her breakfast on the bed with her legs spread wide.  Without her saying so much as a word I positioned myself on the bed, my face in her pussy as she ate her pancakes.

At 7 a.m. she had me get up on the bed again and get down on all fours.  She smacked my ass hard with her bare open hand.

"Who do you serve."

"You Miss Rebecca."

"Who?"

"You Miss Rebecca."

She slapped my ass hard several more times, asking me questions between each smack.

After she was done she offered me her hand.  I took it and kissed it gently.

"I am yours Mistress to do with as you please."

"Very well," she smiled.

She gave me permission to stroke my cock as I remained on my hands and knees.  Balancing on one hand and two legs I began to stroke myself.  It didn't take long after a night of pent up frustration.  I came after a less than two minutes, my body contracting as I did, my cum spraying out of my cock into a white towel Miss Rebecca had positioned on the bed underneath me.

At 8 a.m. Miss Rebecca took a shower.  I stood in the back soaping her and massaging her back.  When she was done she allowed me to take a shower, but only using cold water.

When I stepped out of the shower five minutes later, I knew from then on my life would be completely different.  I knew I would do whatever she told me to do.  Without question or hesitation.

I was Miss Rebecca's now. Completely. Utterly. Totally.



Surrender



He stopped in the doorway, forearms resting against the edges of the frame as his cool gaze surveyed the crowded, dimly lit room. His faint smirk widened into broad smile as his eyes stopped on her. Across the room, seated on a plush sofa, she had looked up the moment he'd opened the door. She met his eyes with a stubborn frown that only made his smile turn feral. He blinked and she was gone, his view obscured by the crowd. A multitude of voices talking, whispering and laughing exploded upon his ears the moment she vanished from his line of sight.

Straightening, pulling himself up to his full height, he strode across the spacious room towards where he last saw her. His eyes narrowed and his smile vanished when he saw the man seated next to his goal. His long strides came to a halt right in front of her. Ignoring the surprised man seated to her right he held his hand out to her even though she refused to meet his eyes. The now outraged man attempted to speak but was silenced by a cold, dark look and a thumb jerked in the general direction of the rest of the room. The stranger shut his open mouth, got up and left without a word.

She sat there leaning back against the cushions with her arms crossed and her gaze averted. Inwardly, she seethed, furious that he thought he had the right to do this to her again. She could see his outstretched hand in her peripheral vision but still refused to acknowledge it. 

"Come." 

His voice was deep, warm and very familiar. All other background noise faded from her notice as she waited, listening for those quiet mellow tones again. But she moved not one single muscle. A rush of air past her face startled her and she turned to look at him. His hands were on either side of her, gripping the back of the couch. His eyes glittered dangerously as they captured and held hers.

"Come," he said again softly, his lips inches from hers, "or would you rather I take you right here, in front of your friends?" 

The hard edge of his voice cut through her, shaking her to the core. She knew he meant every word he said, and she also knew she wouldn't, couldn’t stop him. Her body betrayed her every time.

She dropped her gaze and he withdrew, smiling once again. He held out his hand and she placed hers in it, allowing him to pull her up. His grip tightened almost painfully around her fingers as he led her through the crowd and out the door. He turned left and started quickly down the hall, pulling her behind him so that she had to run to keep up with his long strides. He stopped abruptly in front of a door on the right side of the vacant hallway and used his key to open it. The heavy door swung silently into the darkened room.

"Do you trust me?" 

His voice was quiet but the strength behind those words was unmistakable. He already knew the answer to his question but wanted her to say it. Her dark eyes flickered back and forth between his once, then she spoke.

"Yes."

He smiled and cupped her delicate jaw with one hand, his thumb caressing her cheek as they stood there. He saw her eyebrows form the start of a frown and laughed softly. Fire was starting to burn in her eyes and he knew how little it would take to push her buttons.

"You want me." 

His words infuriated her because she knew he was baiting her and yet couldn't help reacting.

"No," She practically spit out the word. 

He just laughed once more, "You need me." She could hear the smile in his voice.

"The hell you say!" She glared at him, feeling the flush of anger rising in her cheeks.

He just kept smiling and extended his hand further, running his fingers through her hair. "You can't live without me." 

Her jaw dropped and then shut again with a snap as she attempted to twist free of his hands, enraged and sputtering.

"You self-centered, egotistical, arrogant, BAST...."

Her last word was cut short as he yanked her head back by her hair, his other hand twisted her wrist and arm cruelly up behind her back, pulling her smaller form tight against his. He kissed her hard and she stiffened for a split second then melted against him giving him first her soft lips and then her tongue. Every nerve in her body vibrated just from being held by him so roughly. 

He felt her soften against him and claimed her lips as his own before pushing her from him and laughing. He knew she couldn't resist him. 

"You can't live without me." That statement again. 

Stung, she withdrew, the fire in her eyes blazing brightly as she brought her fingers to her lips.

She entered the pitch-black room at his gesture, taking several unsteady steps inside before he flipped on the lights. She blinked, barely able to register the sparsely decorated room before he took her elbow and guided her towards the couch. This was a playroom, not one meant for sleeping unless one slept on the couch. Her eyes took in various implements of pain and pleasure scattered around the room. They widened as she saw the black leather harness resting on the hardwood floor, the leather straps stretching up over heavy wood beams that crisscrossed the ceiling.

Saying not a word, he watched her carefully, noting each expression as her eyes traveled around the room. He watched her stop short as she realized what the mass of leather straps lying on the floor was and a ghost of a smile crossed his lips. Spinning her around, he took her into his arms, pulled her hard against him and kissed her deeply, crushing her lips beneath his. He left no doubt as to why he'd brought her here. His tongue demanded and found entrance to her mouth and though he felt her hands on his chest, vainly struggling to push him away, her mouth was begging him not to stop. Her body pressed against his told him all he needed to know, no matter how her hands said otherwise.

She gasped for air when he finally broke their kiss. Her heart was racing, her body tingled and her knees felt weak. This was the kind of kiss that romantics dream of and poets write about but never experience. Her reaction frightened her, shook her to her soul and her knees buckled as she sank down onto the couch behind her. 

His laughter broke through her haze and she looked up at him, absently wondering what was so funny as a distant, not quite silent part of her mind screamed at her to leave while she still could. Her feet twitched but she didn't get up, couldn't get up. She couldn't move. Not even when he knelt in front of her, took her left hand and bound her wrist with a length of rope he'd pulled from under the couch cushion. She watched his lips form the words that sent a bolt of fear through her heart.

"No one else makes you feel this way. No one else makes you want these things like I do." He finished tying her wrist and caught her eyes. The smoldering, dark passion that lived and breathed there almost sucked her in. Almost.

"No," she whispered.

Whether that was confirmation of his words or denial, it didn't matter. She hid her other hand behind her back.

"You are bound to me as tightly as I bind your flesh. Give me your other hand." His tone made it clear that this was a subject not open for debate and still, she hesitated.

"No," she said louder, more insistently.

His eyes narrowed. He was rapidly losing patience with her and her denial.

"Why do you continue to resist? You know you don't want to. You know you can't. Why do you even try?" he asked her, but only silence answered his questions.

"Answer me." his voice dropped to a dangerously low level and his eyes seemed to pierce right through her. She looked away, unable to tell him that she was afraid she might lose herself if she ever gave in completely. And that what frightened her most was not caring if she lost herself forever as long as she was with him. 

His hand shot out and grabbed her by the chin, his fingers digging into her jaw cruelly as he turned her face towards him again. He saw the tiny flickers of fear in her eyes that she tried to hide and he nodded slowly, understanding what she didn't think he could.

“You are mine. You are my slut. My toy. I will do with you as I please. Do you really think I couldn't just take what I want from you?" 

His voice was harsh and grating. That tendril of fear tightened around her spine but she clenched her jaw angrily beneath his fingers. Without a conscious thought her free hand swung out and her nails raked along his cheek. Her eyes widened as she realized what she’d done. 

His nostrils flared as his eyes closed then slowly opened again, barely controlled rage shining from their depths. Touching his face with one finger he looked down at the blood on the tip then back at her. 

“You bitch!”

Her heart quavered and she knew she had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. She fell over on the couch from the force of his blow. Dazed, she scarcely registered it when he bound her hands together. She didn’t resist when he pulled her limp form off the couch by her tied hands. Her shoulders hit the hard floor with a thud, knocking the wind out of her. The ceiling blurred in front of her eyes as he dragged her across the floor. She saw the long black straps that were looped over the wooden beams just a moment before he grabbed a fistful of her long brown hair, twisting until she turned over on her stomach, hiding the glimpse of cold, suppressed anger that glittered in his eyes.

He worked quickly, slipping her dress up over her head, connecting the leather straps, one around each of her thighs then her waist and upper body, apparently only satisfied when she moaned as the harness bit into her tender skin. He released her hands then re-secured them behind her back, looped a strand of leather around each of her ankles, and pulled her feet up towards her ass. She started to struggle as he finished tying her then winced and cried out as his hand cracked down hard on her upturned bottom. The corners of his mouth twitched as he watched the distinct finger marks raise on her cheek. Finishing his knot, he spread her thighs forcefully and looked down at her helpless body. The teasing, the constant rejection of his attentions, her being too damn stubborn to admit the truth, all of it… would end here, tonight.

She struggled halfheartedly, testing her bonds, flexing her wrists and legs. Another sharp crack across her ass stilled her motion. She whimpered once then shuddered as his warm hands caressed her lower back, sliding up over her hips and back down, his thumbs catching he edge of her silk panties. He pulled them down over the gentle curve of her well-formed ass, his fingers stroking several tender spots on one cheek, his own reddened finger marks. She heard a soft, throaty moan but it took several long moments after the sound faded away before she realized that those hoarse, needy exhalations were hers.

“You want me. You can’t deny it.”

His warm voice so close to her ear sent involuntary shivers throughout her body. But she bit her lip and said nothing, not trusting herself to speak. Her words would betray her just as her body already was doing.

“No matter what I do to you, you just want more.”

She felt her panties pulled tight against her hip bones, heard the tearing and felt the pressure ease as the material ripped, cool air flowing over her hot skin. Her breath caught in her throat at the end of a desperate gasp for air.

“No,” she whispered, but her body screamed for more.

One fingertip lightly brushed the cheek of her ass, barely touching her and yet she responded. Light glinted off the wet flesh between her soft, swollen folds and he felt her back arching under his hand, bringing her bottom up higher in the air. His fingers slid down between her shapely cheeks and he dipped one into her wet pussy. Thrusting it hard inside her, he watched her body react with pleasure, welcoming his touch. As her warm walls closed tightly around his finger he laughed.

It was a cold, mocking laugh that chilled her heart. Her head jerked back as he yanked her by the hair. He added another finger to her smoothly shaven pussy and shoved into her hard. She cried out with the force of it but was unable to tell him to stop. She didn’t want him to stop touching her. Her body craved everything he could give her and more.

“You want me,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. “You need me to fuck you. Beg me for it.”

Her mind rebelled and the words shot from her lips before she could reconsider them.

“Fuck. You.”

“As you wish,” he replied coolly. 

She couldn’t see the coldness in his eyes or the way he clenched his jaw but she heard the steely tones in his voice and that tendril of fear squeezed her heart tighter. He pushed her head forward as he let go and the momentum carried her head forward to smack against the floor. As she turned her head and rested her cheek on the cold surface, he withdrew his wet fingers from inside her and slapped her ass repeatedly, harder and harder. The smacking sound of his hand against her flesh mixed with her whimpers of pain until, as suddenly as he’d started, he stopped. 

Her ass was on fire and the burn spread through and heated her entire body, her soul and her mind. In a moment of perfect clarity she saw herself for what she was; a slut driven by passion and need. But she was his slut, just as he’d said. She wanted it no other way, but her stubborn pride refused to allow her to speak those words. Her desire for this man was unquenchable and undeniable. He made her feel alive. The two of them together turned that passion into a living, breathing, tangible entity. That was one thing she couldn’t deny.

The leather strapping bit sharply into her flesh, startling her out of her daydream. She gave a sudden gasp as her body swung clear of the floor. She closed her eyes tightly to block out the swaying room and squeaked once as the harness jerked to a halt several feet above the floor. Suspended. Helpless.

He secured the strap to itself and gave her a little swing. Walking around her slowly, he observed her from all angles, tilting his head and looking at her as if considering. Coming to a stop in front of her he leaned over and raised her chin with one finger until her apprehensive eyes met his. She looked into those opaque windows and saw only darkness. Cold, hard obsidian. She couldn’t look into those eyes, couldn’t bear the silent fury that remained caged there. Closing her eyes and turning away couldn’t block out the sound of his zipper opening or the deep tones of his voice as he spoke.

“I should fuck your mouth, cum on your face, and leave you here. You don’t deserve anything better. But no, you’d enjoy that too much wouldn’t you, my little cock-whore?” It wasn’t a question he expected her to answer. As he slapped her cheek with his hardening cock, he watched her face turn and her mouth open reflexively. He struck her lips with the head of his shaft several times but didn’t allow her to take it into her mouth. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said smugly.

She found herself spinning in the air until he was behind her again, running his warm hands over her reddened ass. 

“I’m going to hear you beg, one way or another.” His disembodied words demanded her surrender, but he didn’t wait for a response.

Taking hold of the strap around her waist he pulled her back towards him, driving his hard, throbbing manhood into her deeply, savagely. Her cries didn’t soften his heart and he pounded into her pliable flesh again and again, swinging her back and forth by the harness. Her pussy was warm, wet and deliciously tight around him and he took great pleasure in enjoying it. Thrusting into her repeatedly, he watched her body jerk every time he sank his cock into her, every time his hips came up hard against her ass, but he didn’t touch her otherwise. This was raw, primal need and nothing more.

This wasn’t right, she thought. This wasn’t what she had so desperately wanted. He fucked her hard and deliberately and she moaned in spite of herself. His pelvis slammed against her, impaling her rhythmically and she cried out as he thrust harder, loving it, needing it, and hating it. Her heart filled to bursting with an aching need for him to touch not only her body, but her mind as well. When he spoke his words were punctuated by his hard thrusts. 

“Just like masturbating in your pussy. I don’t even care if you cum.”

The words registered like a slap across her face. Masturbating… using her as if she didn’t matter, like she was some sort of toy. She felt the tears gathering in her eyes and as one slipped down her cheek she choked off a sob. He pulled her back onto him again and again, pushing and pulling her body by the strap secured tightly around her waist. This wasn’t what she wanted and needed so desperately. She wanted to belong to him, not just be used by him. A second rolling tear joined the first, then dripped off her cheek from the force of his thrusts. She wept openly, her shoulders heaving as the words came tumbling from her lips, her heart aching. She couldn’t stop the words she’d wanted to say for so long. 

“Please… please… I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry.” She dimly realized that he had stopped deep inside of her. “I need you, I want you…” she couldn’t stop the words that fell from her lips or the tears that streaked her cheeks. “I just… want to be yours…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, forced out between breaths. “Forgive me…” Deep, gut-wrenching sobs shook her body as the tears flowed faster. She needed him to need her, to want her, but not like this. She felt him slip from her pussy.

The harness jerked once and she was lowered to the ground, her wet cheek coming to rest against the wood flooring as she wept tears born of frustration, longing and fear of being nothing more to him than this. 

He loosed the straps and removed the harness completely, tossing it aside before doing the same with the rope that bound her wrists. Kneeling down on the floor, he gathered her up in her arms, took her over to the couch and kissed away her tears. He pushed a long strand of soft hair back from her face then wrapped his arms around her and rocked her gently for several minutes.

“Please, what?” he whispered in her ear.

She glanced at him and tried to look away again, mustering up the courage to speak, but he didn’t let her. The palm of his hand cupped her jaw and he held her with his eyes, the passion that lived in them drawing her in. 

“Baby, tell me,” he said.

Taking a deep breath, she began, unable to look away. “I need you,” she said for the second time. Her hands slipped up around and behind his neck as he leaned in, kissing her lips gently. “You fill that spot in my heart that’s hollow and empty when you’re not around.” 

He smiled at her words and kissed her again, holding her tightly. 

“I want to give you everything, be everything you need. Take me and make me yours, please…” She whispered the final words, hardly believing she’d said them aloud, her face turning crimson.

“I told you that you would beg me,” he said softly.

Her quiet laugh was cut off abruptly as his lips came down hard against hers, crushing them with his kiss. His fingers wound into her hair as he took possession of her mouth. Laying her back he covered her body with his, using one knee to push her legs apart. Settling in between them he could feel the heat radiating from inside her. He rocked his hips forward, pressing the head of his cock against her aroused clit, feeling himself slide up a little as she gasped and rocked her pelvis. He kissed her deeply, his tongue searching her mouth and caressing her tongue as he slid the long shaft of his member over her clit. 

She moaned softly against his lips and wrapped her legs around his hips, her ankles locked behind his ass. She took a deep shuddering breath as his lips traveled over her cheek to her throat, kissing her tender, sensitive spots as he pulled her arms above her head and trapping both her wrists with one hand. Her back arched instinctively as he cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her soft cries echoed in the empty room as he pinched her hard nipple and nipped at the tender flesh where her neck and shoulder met. 




Surrender



He pulled back enough to let his cock glide down her slit and find the entrance to her swollen pussy, ignoring her half-hearted efforts to pull him inside with her legs. He nipped and kissed up her throat, leaving little red marks in his wake, slowly pushing just the fat head of his cock inside her. He heard her groan in his ear and smiled to himself, nibbling on her earlobe.

“Something you want, baby?” he whispered softly in her ear.

“Yessssss…” she hissed, her voice husky and full of desire. 

“What is it?” he asked, hardly able to keep the laughter out of his voice.

“Oh God, please… just fuck me.” She begged him.

He plunged into her deeply, feeling her legs tightening around him as her hips rose to meet his thrust. The scream that shattered the still air caused goosebumps to rise on the backs of his arms. He pulled out slowly, deliberately, watching her take several shuddering breaths and drove back into her again, eliciting another high-pitched sound of pleasure. He pinched her nipple harder, and pulled out again slowly, intentionally. He hesitated for a moment at the entrance to her pussy, just easing the tip in and out until he felt her walls contract around him, trying to draw him in. Slamming forward he filled her completely, the head of his throbbing cock pressed up hard against her cervix.

“Jesssusss,” she forced the word from between her clenched teeth.

She groaned again as he hooked his arms under her knees, bringing her legs up over his shoulders, bending her back as he started fucking her harder, quickening both the pace and depth of his strokes. The angle of her body pressed his cock against the upper wall of her pussy and nearly drove her out of her mind. She fought to retain some control of herself but with each thrust he wiped away her defenses until she was nothing but a bundle of highly sensitized nerves, responding to his every movement. The increasing volume of her moans only spurred him on and she heard his groans of enjoyment mingled somewhere among hers. 

“Ooooooohhh god, you’re going to make me cum,” she said the words between gasps for air.

“I know,” he grunted as he thrust into her again and again. His eyes were dark and full of passion and his strokes were hard and fast. “Cum for me.” 

It wasn’t a request and her body didn’t hesitate. She felt the surge of warmth gather at her center, pulsing hotly. Her legs tightened around his neck, her head tipped back and her shoulders rose up off the couch as her back arched and she was caught up in that heat as it exploded out from her core. 

Her pussy clamped down on his cock and he groaned loudly, not wanting to cum yet but unable to stop himself from plunging into her sweet, warm flesh. He felt her shiver and leaned back enough to cradle her ass in his hands, one thumb pushing gently against her puckered little star until she started to relax. Her juices dripped down over his thumb and he pressed harder, easing the tip of his thumb past her tight ring of muscle. Hearing her gasp he knew what he wanted and pulled out of her, tossing her legs off his shoulders. 

Taking hold of her hips as her feet touched the floor he turned her, bringing her back up on the couch on her hands and knees. With one hand he pressed her upper body down against the cushion, her ass remained high in the air as he guided the head of his cock until it was flush up against her tight asshole, already slick from her juices. Slowly, purposely he pushed into her, barely letting her relax. 

“You are so fucking tight,” he groaned as he filled her to the hilt. 

Her screams were muffled against the cushions and she shuddered with pleasure as he stretched her, fucking her ass slowly. She pushed back against him meeting those thrusts, wanting him deeper, wanting it harder and getting it. She felt his fingers digging into her hipbones, pulling her back tightly against him. 

“Mmmmmmm…. Yessssss… harder, fuck me harder,” she begged him wantonly. “You like your little slut’s tight ass, don’t you,” her mumbled words pierced through him like a burning arrow and he slammed into her ass just as hard as he’d been fucking her pussy only minutes ago. 

Winding her hair around his fist he pulled her head back, leaning forward to whisper in her ear as she gasped with the pain.

“No, I fucking love my little slut’s ass.” 

He fucked her savagely, watching her body jerk each time his hips met her rounded ass. Holding her against him tightly by her hair, his other hand reached around to grab her breast, squeezing it painfully.

“I’m going to cum in your ass, whore. Is that what you want, you little slut?” 

She growled back at him. “Yessss… fuck yesssss…” her husky voice escalated as he started pumping in and out of her quickly. 

She could feel his cock swelling within her and she responded by squeezing him tightly, her tight muscles massaging and milking his cock. Her eyes closed and she let her entire focus center around him and how he made her feel. Yes, this was what she wanted. Her muscles tensed and her entire being seemed to fill with a white-hot fire that burned from the inside out. Every stroke brought her closer and closer until she couldn’t stand it any longer. She bucked against him as she cried out, taking him deeply as she came again. Every fiber of her being responded to him. She surrendered her body, her heart and in that moment her soul. Screaming out his name, she shook with a tremendous orgasm. She heard him moan loudly, grunting as he forced himself into her a final time, releasing his seed. 

His heart was racing and his body trembled with the force of his orgasm as his cock pulsed several times shooting deeply inside her. He felt her surrender and her hair slipped from his bloodless fingers, her head dropping forward to rest on the back of her hands. He drew in a long, slow shuddering breath and exhaled slowly. His softening cock slipped suddenly from her body as she moved, collapsing on the couch, exhausted. His body shivered once and he leaned forward, resting against her back, his heart still thumping in his chest. 

“God,” he said then kissed the back of her shoulder gently. 

She murmured something that he couldn’t hear but he smiled at the tone of it.

Kissing her again, he whispered in her ear. “I have to go.” 

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked back at him, a full pout on her lips but she didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t help. He would still leave, just as he always did. She watched him gather his clothes and get dressed, not wanting to take her eyes from him. 

He placed the key on the arm of the couch and bent down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you soon, I just don’t know when.”

She nodded and felt a vise tightening around her heart as he walked towards the door. “Don’t go,” she whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear her. 

He turned and gave her a smile then shut the door behind him. A single tear slipped down her cheek and she closed her eyes.



Surrender



The minute he stepped into the room a slow and aching fear began to spread across his back and settle into his shoulders. In one quick glance he could tell his entrance was a mistake, but it was far too late to turn back. The room was a perfect cube, four rust stained walls, a window covered with a thick layer of dark brown filth, one solitary light bulb hanging from a mass of wires in the center, dangling forebodingly over a plain musty mattress. The fear that had originally washed over him moved like pin-pricks to the pit of his stomach and settled there, making him feel queasy.

"What's the matter, Asei? Don't like the accommodations?' The rich dark sound seemed to echo off the room, bouncing from wall to wall to hardwood floor before forcing its way into his mind. Asei looked up from his tennis shoes and caught the other man's attention for the first time since they'd entered. Gabriel was tall, almost a full foot taller than Asei's five feet, seven inches. Gabriel was thin, but his frame was built to make him look sturdy, like a construction worker. The shirt he wore was stretched tightly across his chest and bulged a bit at the arms as Gabe casually crossed them over his chest. Asei could see his hands clearly, calloused and wide. He was positive that whatever torture came to him in that room, it would be delivered by those hands.

Gabriel gave an effortless push from the wall where he had been leaning as Asei surveyed him. He strode towards him in long confident strides, filling the room with the sound of jean rubbing against jean. Asei hadn't lurked in the doorway, but had stood before the dirty mattress on the floor, much to Gabriel's satisfaction. He reached out as he approached him and ran a rough thumb over Asei's dry lips. Gabriel wasn't a man to waste time and the fun and games were about to start.

Gabriel's hand moved down Asei's mouth to his chin, past his Adam's apple, in a straight line down his thin, flat chest. Gabriel drank Asei in like a sculptor examining his model. He continued to trail the line down the center of Asei's body until his thumb sat inches above the heat between his thighs. He gulped hard enough to make the sound known to the room, bringing Asei's head up to meet his eyes. With one swift movement Gabriel dragged Asei onto the bed, both men standing on the near flat mattress.

"Why did you come?" The harshness of the question forced chills up Asei's spine, the first invasion of the night.

"I..." he stammered, trying to clear his head. The air in the room seemed thick with an undetermined smell and he could hardly catch his breath. "I... I... I wanted to feel real again." Asei took in a sharp breath and held it for what seemed like minutes while Gabriel's cruel black eyes pierced into him. All he had wanted was to feel hands on him, to feel real and alive, but this ... this was a mistake.

Gabriel seemed to read his thoughts and let a smile play on the corner of his lips. With a fluid movement of those long calloused hands, he swung and connected with Asei's jaw, sending him spilling backwards with the weight of the blow, landing on his knees upon the mattress. Gabriel smiled down on Asei, watching the small thin line of blood flow from the corner of his mouth. Asei shuddered on the foul smelling thing, reaching up to touch the spot tenderly. His hands came away from his face covered in crimson, but he didn't fight to clean them off. He didn't fight to do anything, but knelt there perfectly still, fresh tears clinging to his soft black lashes.

"Do you feel alive now, Asei?" Gabriel whispered softly, almost lovingly over him. "Oh, the fun I'm going to have with you. You'll regret ever coming here, but you know that, don't you?"

Asei gulped in a large drought of stale air and nodded slowly. His blue tear-stained eyes looked up rather knowingly to Gabriel. He was going to make him hurt in ways that he'd never known.

Gabriel stalked slowly around Asei, like a tiger surveying his prey as Asei continued to kneel in the same position. The blood at the corner of his mouth was beginning to dry, and Gabriel could hardly bring himself to allow for such a thing. "Get up," he commanded.

Asei stood slowly and unsurely on the mattress once more. He knew that within seconds he'd be on his knees again and he decidedly wanted to brace his feet solidly against the foam material. Gabriel chuckled from behind Asei, edging up closely to him so his stomach and groin pushed harshly against his back. Gabriel's hands came around Asei, holding him closely, almost tenderly, as his lips sought the blood at the corner of his mouth. In one long lapping stroke, Gabriel's tongue darted out and stole up the red fluid, generating a shudder throughout Asei's body. Asei's mind swam with the texture, the touch, the sound of Gabriel. Gabriel smelled like sweat and cologne, like a man, and a need was building in Asei like he had never known.

"You're getting pleasure out of this, aren't you little one?" He reached down the length of Asei's body again and found the heat between his thighs, stroking and massaging him through the dark jeans. Asei couldn't help but moan, even through all of his fear his desire was mounting to match the place it had come to that brought Asei to Gabrielle's room in the first place.

Gabriel reached around and grabbed both of Asei's thin wrists and pulled them sharply behind him. Gabe's knee rose slowly to settle into the small of Asei's back as he pushed forward to hone the dull ache he was creating, splaying Asei outward as if on exhibit. Asei shut his eyes firmly, pushing the pain from his mind, breathing in shallow breaths. "That's good Asei, take it," Gabe said as he applied more pressure. He continued with more and more force until both became aware of Asei's soft whimpers. The tiny cries came faster as Asei fell into fear. "Please," he whispered through choked tears. "Please, please, please," he mumbled barely audibly.

Gabriel reached down into his pocked and pulled out a long strand of twine he had cut before he found their room. He wrapped the rough straining material around Asei's wrists and continued until he was secured. Then, without any warning, Gabriel swept Asei's feet out from under him sending him forward to fall back onto the mattress. Asei lay with his head against it, arms tied effectively behind him, resting closely against his lower back.

"Please," Gabriel repeated. "Is that a 'Please don't hurt me Gabe? I love you Gabriel. I'd never do anything to disobey you, Gabriel,' Asei? Or is that more of a 'Please Gabriel, hurt me, make me bleed, fuck me and leave me here for dead, right here on this disgusting mattress?'"

Asei panted against the bed realizing what the smell had been all along: urine and feces, years old, souring in a room with a window that never opened. He coughed once, and then gagged, trying desperately to right himself and pull his face away from the mattress. As soon as he had managed it, Gabriel stood before him and smacked him again. A brand new taste of copper blood filled his mouth and Gabriel dropped to his knees in front of him, wrenching his mouth open with his thumb and tongue, sucking deeply to taste. 

Asei moaned with eyes shut tight, leaning into Gabe's embrace, sliding his tongue hungrily against the roughness of Gabriel's. Everything about Gabriel was rough, his mind rationed, and if this didn't kill him, he would be lucky. 

Gabriel opened his eyes as Asei moaned and allowed the smile to play with his lips as his little captive lapped at his own tongue. He had wanted to have him this way ever since he first met him; ever since the day he had begged a cigarette off of him outside the bar he tended. Gabriel had done a million things for Asei ever since that day. He had bought him food, he had given him clothing to keep him warm on the streets, he had brought him in from the cold, made him well again when he was sick. Now it was time for payback.

Gabriel pulled away, leaving Asei helpless and panting. The blood was all gone again. He had become an expert at the ways to make someone bleed, but only enough to excite and pain, never enough to cause irreparable damage. Gabe pushed up on Asei's shoulders to stand once again, grunting as he got up, realizing that this time might be different. Asei had wanted to die, Gabe was sure of it. Asei had told him so many times as he slumped helplessly against him with a needle in his arm. Maybe, just maybe, he'd help him out.

The room stood quiet for a matter of moments and Asei looked up to be sure Gabriel was still there. Gabriel stood looking down on him, thinking his dark thoughts, with a look of near compassion on his face. Asei would have reached up if he could, but he held himself still, waiting for more.

Gabriel's hand fell on his jeans as he slowly slid the button from the surged loop. Asei's eyes widened as he watched, tongue lapping at his dry, bruised lips, as Gabriel's hand continued sliding the zipper down. Asei sat slightly lower than crotch height to Gabriel and could see the white material hiding behind his stone cut jeans. Gabriel pushed his jeans down to above his knees and cupped himself in front of Asei's eyes. The look on Asei's face spoke of many things – love, fear, desire, and pain. Gabriel reached down and stroked Asei's face with his hand, as his right continued to fondle his cock and balls through the material.

The white cotton disappeared with the jeans, as Gabriel kicked them both off into the corner and exposed his hardness to Asei's eyes. He was eight inches solid and about two and half inches thick. The only thought that Asei could put together as he watched Gabriel slide it towards his lips was how much it was going to hurt when Gabriel slammed it inside of him. He took a deep breath, eyeing him as Gabe's hand slid around the back of his head and pulled him towards his cock. Asei groaned as Gabe began to pull his hair, slapping his face with his hardened member. Each slap became more furious and the length and rock-hard contact of it made him feel as though he was being beaten by a heavy metal rod. It stung his lips, bruised the bridge of his nose, but still Gabriel didn't stop. The sensation running through Gabe was enough to keep him there, beating him with it, slapping pre cum against his cheek. Surprising to both of them, Asei's tongue reached out to lap his skin before attempting to slide over the head and finish the job.

Gabriel smiled down on him and waited for Asei's mouth to open before he grabbed his hair in earnest and shoved his head forward with a force strong enough to break his neck. Gabe's cock disappeared down Asei's throat, causing the boy to panic and gasp. The gasping opened his throat to him and as he pulled up and slammed back home the second time he completely sheathed himself. Asei's lips pressed to the base of his penis causing Gabe to cry out and Asei to gag. Gabe laughed lightly and began to fuck Asei's face, ramming his hips against the boy's tender lips, forcing him to retch and wheeze with each thrust. Soon Asei began to vomit around him, but still Gabe didn't let up, slamming each thrust painfully. Asei choked back his sickness and concentrated on breathing from his nose, trying desperately to let everything loose, slackening his jaw, unclenching his throat and while the thrusts did not let up, he began to swallow Gabe more easily.

Just as he had become comfortable, Gabe drew back. Something about Asei made him know that whatever he gave, Asei could take. He had strength about him that he hadn't realized at first, but now he was sure of it. As he moved backwards from Asei's body, the suction from his mouth gave a loud pop and nearly brought Gabriel to his knees as the sensation of that young hot mouth washed over him. He could hardly afford to cum just yet when there was still so much to be explored.

Asei sat panting, gasping in front of Gabriel, hunched forward, clenching his wrists tightly behind him. The position, the way he was tied, Gabriel's force when taking his mouth, everything pained him. His face throbbed from the blows Gabriel had bestowed upon him, both with his hands and his cock. He lapped at his swollen lips, trying desperately to wet them again, fighting the urge to be sick in the already soiled room. Gabriel stood back, composing himself, while he watched Asei in sheer delight. His smaller companion looked absolutely helpless and the sight of him gasping and bound made his cock harder. He never thought it possible but it was true. He stood back as far as the wall would allow and began slowly undressing, watching as Asei regained his equanimity, sitting up with a newfound interest in his captor.

Gabriel stripped the pale blue t-shirt from his taught and tanned upper body. Asei involuntarily licked at his lips again, but this time out of his own desires for flesh. Gabriel smiled down on him, walking back towards the mattress to reach feather light fingertips out to touch Asei's cheek. Gabriel tilted his head, looking on Asei with affection, gauging his next move. He had truly come with the intentions of raping Asei, even though Asei would have gladly give it up, now he wasn't so sure. Asei had surrendered easily, had taken everything he'd done, and still held a mysteriously complacent look on his face, sitting ever so still on the mattress. His soft hair fell forward into his face as his eyes watched the ground; submissive to the very last.

"Do you enjoy being my slave, Asei?" Gabriel choked into the space between them. He was having a hard time maintaining his calm when all the desire in the world filled him with a need for the young boy. 

Asei never moved, never shifted even for all the pain he carried in his wrists and lower back, he simply spoke towards Gabriel's direction, "Yes." 

"Yes what, Asei?" 

"Yes, my Master."

Gabriel groaned audibly at the sound. It was everything he wanted. Every piece of clothing he had had on lay in crumpled heaps across the floor, his body fine toned and smooth in the dim light of the room. He walked towards Asei, displaying powerful muscles along his hips and thighs that even through his hair, Asei couldn't fail to notice. Gabriel took a spot behind him once again and grabbed up a handful of his hair. The sudden burst of pain along his scalp sent him shrieking and Gabriel's hand came down once more to slap him. The sensation shocked him back into himself and he stopped making any noise at all. 

"I know this hurts Asei. It's supposed to hurt," Gabriel breathed almost furiously. The tenderness, if it were ever there, left his hands, replaced by harsh roughness; a mark of Gabriel's ferocious longing.

Gabriel began stripping Asei of his clothing. His jeans went first over numbed knees, and then his shirt was stretched back and over the bonds, providing a new leverage point for Gabriel behind him. Finally when he was as bare as Gabriel wanted him, he stood back to admire the young boys body. So fine the etched detail around his ribcage. So thin, emaciated from hunger, skin stretched painfully tight across his medium sized frame. 

"You haven't been using the money I've been giving you to buy food, have you?" Gabriel breathed severely. "This is what you've been doing with it, isn't it?" He bent Asei's arm back at an unnatural angle, dragging his head to look at the track marks in his arm. Asei pressed his eyes shut as the pain burned up his spine, but Gabriel would have none of it. He wanted Asei to look at himself, to actually see what he'd done to his body.

"Open your eyes," he demanded, shoving his hand down in front of the boy to grab his exposed cock.

With a shudder and a gasp, Asei's eyes flew open and he did his best to follow Gabriel's orders. "Yes Master, yes, " he moaned, both in response to Gabriel's questions and in response to his touch. "I have been using the money you give me to escape. I'm sorry Gabriel, please... please forgive me."

"Forgive you? You think I'll just forgive you for this? Look at yourself! Look at the scars that run along your body. You're so marred with scars it's pathetic. How old are you now Asei, nineteen? Twenty?"

"I'm nineteen, Master."

"Nineteen years old, strung out, no home, no family, wasting what I give you to buy drugs. Is that any way to repay me for all of my kindness, my generosity?"

"No Master, please, please, I beg you. Let me repay you, I'll do anything you want of me; anything at all."

Gabriel leaned to his knees in front of his new prodigy and whispered, "Oh, I know you will," as he pulled the bonds at his hands. He was positioned expertly behind him and without any gentle gesture he pushed his long hard cock up into Asei's body in one grand thrust.

Asei cried out in the room, a scream of pain with absolutely no pleasure, as Gabriel grunted heavily with his own twinge. He knew that within time the pain would subside, that Asei would produce what was necessary to finish this, but until he bled it wouldn't happen. Gabriel fucked into him stretching him beyond his limits and soon his dick was completely sheathed in him rapidly, sticky with Asei's blood. 

Asei fell forward as Gabriel thrust into him. Tears began to run down his face and he cried in earnest against the filthy mattress. The pain was eating him up inside but he still needed this. He knew through every mind numbing drug he had taken before this that he was truly alive. His soft sobs grew louder as he fought to contain them and finally Gabriel let up on his wrists. His cock was still deep inside him, but he pulled back and out, leaving Asei crying on the floor. 

Gabriel's hand reached up Asei's sweat covered back and drew back down again. He had meant to be cruel, he had meant to be brutal, he was hungry and he was owed. However, the minute he heard Asei's honest tears, felt the blood flowing around his cock, knew the pain and torture he was inflicting, it all became a little less important. With Gabriel's touch Asei's tears became whimpers. Gabriel reached around the front of him again and felt Asei's telltale hardness. The tears had stopped flowing and the sound of his sobbing was replaced with tiny whispered moans.

"You are mine, Asei," Gabriel returned.

"Yes, yes," Asei moaned, writhing against his hand.

"Say it Asei."

"I am yours, my Master. I am yours Master Gabriel."

"Good, good," he cooed, fisting Asei's hard cock over and over, covering his palm in the boys pre cum.

With the wetness from Asei's cock, combined with his own and his saliva, he positioned himself at the young mans hole and pushed in again. This time things felt different, less severe a punishment for both to endure. Gabriel's hand continued to pump Asei's cock as his tight ring relaxed around him. Together they pushed and slammed into one another, over and over again, Gabriel fisting his youthful slave, both riding toward the edge. With one final thrust of his hand, Asei began to cum; not asking his Master for permission, but the sound of it caught Gabe up so he didn't much care. Gabriel pulled out of Asei at the last moment and positioned his cock near the boy's mouth and shot load for load against it, opened and closed. The sounds of their orgasms filled the room.

Gabriel couldn't bring himself to fall onto the mattress, the thing disgusted him intensely, so he rocked back on his heels, letting Asei fall forward and rest. He had been a good slave, one he could now cherished, and the indoctrination into his embrace had gone better than he expected. He would find a way to keep Asei; whether they loved one another or not. He didn't much care for the how or why of it, but rather for the pleasure that could be had.



Surrender



I lay there on the bed, not resisting as he tied me to the headboard. He had stripped me naked slowly, kissing each new patch of bared skin as my clothing fell to the floor, and now he stood over me, securing first my wrists and now my ankles to the bedposts, spreading me out for his pleasure. He, himself, was still fully dressed, and I could see his erection tenting his pants. It made me lick my lips with desire.

He sat beside me on the bed, looking down at my prostrate form, and I felt his hand start to lightly touch my skin. It started at my knee, but slowly made it's way up my thigh and over my hip. It paused there as he leaned down and briefly kissed the hard tips of my breasts. I arched my back, aching for more, but instead he sat up again and his hand continued up my ribs, then between my breasts, and cupped the back of my head. He lifted my face as he bent down to meet it and his kiss took my breath away. I moaned and gasped, and I tried to squeeze my legs together to get some pressure on my throbbing clit, but the bonds that held me open were too strong.

He chuckled as he broked the kiss and his hand made the same path, in reverse, again pausing at my hip. He smiled at me, looking deep into my eyes, and asked if there was something I wanted. I nodded meekly. 

"What?" he asked. 

"Please touch my clit? Please? It's aching for you to touch it." My voice was husky and I admit that I whimpered a time or two, but I was so turned on, I couldn't help it.

"Just your clit?" he asked as he leaned down so his lips were almost touching my nipple. I could feel his breath on it, and it made me shiver. 

"Oh god, baby... my nipples, too. Please?" He grinned at his power over me as he let his tongue slip out and glide over my nipple. I arched my back again, but he pulled his head back, not giving me any more contact. He moved over to do the same to my other nipple, and his hand slid over my hip and between my legs, teasing the lips of my oh-so-empty pussy. I tried once more to squeeze my thighs together, but to no avail. 

He teased me like that for what seemed like hours. Just barely grazing my nipples with his tongue and letting his finger almost imperceptibly part my pussy lips. And when I was arching uncontrollably and begging incoherently, my head tossing from side to side in passion and frustration, then he suddenly took my nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, pinching the other nipple with is free hand as his other hand dove into my pussy, thumb rubbing my clit. My body was completely unprepared for this sudden assault, and I started to scream with an orgasm so powerful I felt like I was possessed. And he didn't stop there. He just kept going, fucking me with two, then three fingers and biting my nipples now, and I just kept cumming and cumming.

When he finally did stop, I lay on the bed, unable even to open my eyes I was so exhausted, and then he said, "That's enough foreplay. I think I'm ready to fuck you now." 

I pant and try to regain my breath, still unable to muster the energy to open my eyes. I feel him get up off the bed and hear the rustle of his shirt as he takes it off and drops it on the floor. The sound of his zipper being lowered causes goosebumps to rise on my flesh, and I let out a rush of breath when I hear his pants hit the floor.

His hand gently strokes my hair away from my face before he grabs a handful in his fist and pulls my head up, slightly. The head of his cock passes over my lips and they fall open in welcome. Instead of accepting my obvious invitation, however, he teases me by rubbing his cock all over my face and never letting me have more than a little lick. 

My energy is coming back in waves now, and I open my eyes and gaze bleary-eyed at him standing before me. I focus on his cock and I whisper simply, "please?" and then he is inside my mouth, and I am tasting him, licking his shaft up and down and tilting back to allow him entrance to my throat. He moans through gritted teeth and pulls my hair sharply, guiding me up and down on his hardness, and I moan and whimper with desire and the need to please him, and I suck him even harder, with all of my skill.

He pulls out of my mouth with no warning, letting go of my hair quickly so that my head falls back on the pillow. I can see the lust in his eyes and it makes my heart beat faster and I feel my wetness returning and dripping down the crack of my ass. He unties my ankles and pushes my legs up and out so that I'm spread so wide for him, and then he plunges inside my already-abused cunt and ravages me hard and fast, grunting in his haste. 

My eyes close again and my breathing quickens once more, and I want nothing more than to have my hands free so that I can dig my nails into his back and pull his ass toward me so I can have even more of his cock. But instead, I lie there under him as he pounds ever faster into me and I beg for him to cum, beg for him to make me cum, beg and beg and beg, and then before I realise it, I'm screaming and he is groaning and we both freeze in a position of absolute ecstasy.

And then the moment passes and he collapses on top of me and my legs slowly fall back down to the bed. He unties my wrists and kisses the rough skin where the rope chafed and then he tells me that I'm beautiful as I drift off to sleep. 



Surrender



"You've got to talk to me, Babe." 

His fingers trailed down her throat...down her chest...over the curve of her breast, the nails leaving the slightest trace of redness in their wake. Her body arched instinctively, hungry for his touch. She writhed there, tugging at the nylon cuffs that kept her wrists bound over her head. They held easily, reminding her that she had willingly submitted to him; that she was exposed and vulnerable: a thought that sent a shudder coursing through her; that hardened her nipples and made her clit throb.

"I need to know what works for you..."

He caught her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, idly rolling it, tugging, the nails momentarily biting in. She gasped, the half formed response to his query falling away into meaningless fragments.

"I can only assume so much..."

His open mouth found her neck, sucking the tender skin in, making her mind reel. She felt his teeth rasp and had no time to react at all before they bit in, nipping, making her jump and cry out in surprise. The jolt left her panting, tense: on edge. She would not remain wary for long. His tongue slid over her skin like warm velvet and she felt herself melting under his tender affections.

He eased back, his eyes locked on hers, his fingers tracing slow random patterns over her stomach. Did he understand how much even that small gesture meant to her, reassured her? His touch connected her to him so that she never felt isolated. She gazed back at him, wanting so much to please him. Her mouth opened: but how to find the words?

It was all mixed up: a hopeless tangle of physical and emotional factors. She desperately needed to let go of her tight reign on life; to not be in charge; to not think and rationalize and decide but to let all of that go and simply feel and react. She thrived on the sharp contrast between his warm, gentle touch and the sting of his sharp slaps. She loved the way her body reacted to the jolt of a well-placed blow and the feeling of heightened sensation after her skin had been thoroughly reddened. She needed the connection, the freedom of absolutely trusting him. There was more though. As much as she surrendered to him, she kept something. She was secure in the knowledge that if it ever got too intense, she could stop him with a single word. And there was something else: there had been a time when she hadn't had a choice. She had absolute control over the situation now by actively choosing her surrender and allowing it.

He shook his head, tracing her lips with one finger. "Later, Love. You think and you tell me later. Right now..." He kissed her. His tongue slid into her mouth and battled hers. His body pressed into her. The feel of his hardness digging into the side of her hip made the need swell up inside her. His nails were dragging up the inside of her left thigh. There was a sudden SMACK! as his palm connected with her tender flesh and a jarring sting that caused her to jump and pull hard at her bonds.

"Open."

She immediately parted her legs wide. His fingers gently caressed the warm glowing spot left behind on her thigh before moving higher still. The thumb of his other hand was running tight circles over her right nipple, causing it to stiffen and throb. Just as his fingers reached the soft, swollen outer folds of her sex, he tweaked her nipple hard. She jumped, crying out, her legs instinctively moving to close. He was faster than she, however, and the next blow fell directly on her unprotected pussy. Arching hard, she writhed against the restraints.

"UNNGHHHH!!!!"

"I said, 'Open'." His voice stayed low, but the tone carried complete authority and an almost...dangerous edge.

She nodded quickly, swallowing hard, legs parting wide. "Yes Sir." She managed.

His fingers stroked up and down the smooth lips of her bare pussy making her shiver and moan. Turning his hand palm up, he dragged the middle finger all the way up her heated center. Shuddering, she threw her head back, gasping and letting out a little yelp as he made his way over her clit.

"Look how wet you are, my little slut." He brought his coated finger to her mouth, giving her a taste but making her strain a little for it. "That's right," he crooned, letting her have a little more, "suck those pussy juices all up. You taste good, don't you, Darlin'?"

She whimpered in accordance, cheeks hollowed, tongue cupping his finger, bobbing slowly up and down, working it like a tiny cock. He smiled, apparently pleased with her performance. Kneeling by her head he let his hard cock bob in front of her face. Turning instinctively, she opened her mouth, leaning towards him, then paused, looking up, waiting for permission.

"Suck it."

Eagerly, she took him in, loving the dichotomy of him: the silky softness of the skin, the throbbing hardness of his shaft: velvet steel. Her tongue rolled and lashed from underneath. Her lips closed tight over him and she bobbed up and down as best she could in the awkward position, eliciting a low moan from him which made her work all the harder. His hand supported her neck, then moved to caress her hair as she slurped her way back and forth over his hardness. His fingers curled in her hair, gripping tight, pulling and she stopped with him deep in her mouth. His body was tense. She sensed him struggling to keep control.

"Enough."

Disappointed, she let him slide free. He leaned down, kissing her, tenderly at first, then more and more forcefully, thrusting his tongue deep in her mouth, leaving her gasping for breath.

Kneeling between her outstretched legs, he hooked her knees in his arms and pulled them up high. His throbbing erection slid back and forth over her soaking slit. She gasped, her head whipping back and forth, her body tense, anticipating; wanting; needing his entry. Her clit throbbed and screamed as his crown brushed it.

"Ready, Darlin'?"

She nodded frantically. "Oh, please...please I...UNGHHHHHHHHH!!!!" She trailed off, wailing as he pressed in not pausing until he was lodged deep inside of her. Her inner muscles gripped and milked at him, working him over. He leaned in, grinding even deeper, touching her everywhere, making her writhe and buck beneath him. Slowly he started to move in and out of her. She moaned, eyes closing, reveling in the delicious friction. His thrusts quickly turned hard as he eased out and slammed back into her, over and over.

Her arms pulled hard at the cuffs. She cried out He reached out with one hand, slapping her tits as they swayed back and forth, reddening the skin, every other blow glancing across her nipples, sending jolts of energy through her already heightened senses.

His eyes were shining with an almost indescribably kind of intensity; ferocity.

"Mmmmm. Such a good little slut," he growled. "Take that good, hard fucking. What a sweet little pussy you have. God, you feel so good on me."

She squeezed even tighter; thrilled that she was pleasing him; shuddering and moaning as his cock pummeled her tender insides. Her gasps and moans intensified. She began to whimper. Each hard stroke was fanning the fires within her, threatening to consume everything. He paused, his cock lodged deep, leaving her heaving, panting, desperate.

"Oh...no...no please...I need it...don't stop...oh, God, please..." she begged, thrashing, trying to thrust herself onto him.

He smiled, watching her efforts, then leaned forward, easing a blindfold over her eyes. She immediately quieted, adjusting to the blackness. Her ears strained to hear every tiny sound and she jumped, startled at the louder ones. Her skin prickled. She was highly aware of the cool sheets beneath her, the warmth of his body where it touched her, his hardness filling her. 

"That's a good girl." His voice was low, soft, soothing. Now just a minute..."

A cool, snug band of material replaced his hand, first on one ankle and then the other.

"Easy now..." His voice was reassuring, his strong hands supporting her thighs. She felt her legs being pushed even higher up over her head. There was a telltale " SNICK!" and she knew that her ankle cuffs had been fastened to her wrist cuffs. She trembled slightly as the bonds took her weight and her pussy and ass slowly spread apart, leaving her open and vulnerable.

"Oh Yessss!" The tone of his voice excited her further. He eased completely out of her and began to rub his slippery cockhead slowly up and down her slit, causing her to moan. Each time he grazed her swollen clit, she jerked, the incredible sensation coursing through her, literally curling her toes. 

She was so lost in herself that it didn't register in her fevered brain that he was sliding down closer to her puckered back door with every pass. It was only as he pressed against her that it dawned on her what his intent was. She froze. Her mind was reeling: 'Oh my God...Oh no...not there! He was going to...and there was nothing she could do about it!'

"Open." He pressed more firmly against her, as she instinctively squeezed, tightening against him. There was a resounding "SMACK!" as his palm connected with her right ass cheek. The shock and sting of the hard slap causing her to rear up, pulling on her cuffs for leverage. The pain melted gradually into the warm glow that she so loved.

"Open." He repeated, his fingers pinching her nipples against his thumbs. Focusing on the new sensation, she moaned as she felt him stretch her tight ring. Tighter and tighter he squeezed her sensitive buds as he moved further and further inside of her. 

"OH GOD!" she cried out. "My nipples! My ass! OHHHHHH Fuck!"

"Fuck your ass?" he chuckled, "Yes, Dear." and began to move slowly, deliberately in and out of her tightness. "AHHHHHH! God yes! What a sweet tight little asshole my slut has!" Soon he was thrusting faster and harder, growling as he gave her a good working over, ramming into her hard, his body crashing into hers with a sharp slaps.

"You're going to cum for me, slut." She nodded, panting and whimpering, then wailed, body jerking hard against the restraints as something pressed against directly on her swollen, exposed clit. The strong vibrations coursed through her entire body. OH GOD! The vibrator! The powerful electric one he'd bought for his knee...She wailed, back arching. He never let up on the pressure, grinding it rhythmically against her, growling as he ground his cock deeper into her ass.

She was beyond thinking, beyond reacting, beyond anything but shuddering hard as the powerful tide of her orgasm crashed over her. He mouth was open in a silent scream, every muscle in her body tense, overloaded, shaking. From a distance, it barely registered that he had plunged into her hard, roaring, that his cock was jerking inside of her, filling her with jet after jet of hot cum.

Her ankles were being released. Her legs were being eased gently down. Her arms were being messaged, wrists coming down to her sides. He was holding her, snuggled up to her back, his warm body cradling her. He was murmuring in her ear that she was beautiful, that he loved her, that she satisfied him completely. The blindfold was gone, but she kept her eyes closed, basking in his attentions, his approval. Her body relaxed slowly, jerking now and again as the aftershocks of her orgasm rocked her. In this moment she was truly whole, having found complete fulfillment in serving, in offering everything and had received everything back in return, in the knowledge that she'd given him all he needed. 



Surrender



She kneels by the door, waiting for him to come in. Her body trembles as she waits, wanting his touch, wanting his fierce possession, his rough handling of her willing body. Tonight she wants to be what he wants her to be; to obey his commands without hesitation, to allow him to position her, take her, touch her as he wishes. 

Naked, her only adornment is his black collar around her throat. She wants to show him that she is already his, before he even arrives. She wears no perfume, no lotion, nothing to detract from the smell of her female body. She knows he wants to smell her need, her want, her wet, soaked sex.

The feelings when she is naked and he is fully dressed are wicked and naughty. It is exciting and seems right, his hands touching her warm bare skin, sometimes gentle, sometimes hard. She wants him to decorate her body, with his clamps, his ropes, his marks that turn her pale skin pink or red. 

Hearing his car drive up, she places a black satin blindfold over her eyes, wanting only to feel what he does to her, to intensify the sensations. He comes in, the door unlocked as he had requested. He securely locks it, not wanting any invasion of their privacy. 

He takes a deep breath, and she hopes he likes what he sees, her naked body, ready to serve her Dom, her Master. She wills her body to be pliant, yielding, submissive.

She feels him step close to her, the rustle of clothing, and then the heat of his body against her face. She inhales deeply, recognizing his masculine, musky scent. She blindly licks her lips and opens her mouth, not even thinking, just knowing that is what he wants. The soft, hot, smooth skin of his rigid cock rubs her tongue as he slides it deep into her mouth. 

Relaxing her mouth, she gives it to him, and he slowly, exquisitely fucks it. She can feel the head nudging her throat, taste him on her tongue, his hands in her hair as he guides her. She moans low in her throat, the eroticism of his actions making her tremble.

After a time, he removes his cock from her mouth. He grips it in his strong hand and rubs it all over her face. She tilts her head up, allowing his wetness to coat her face. Without saying a word, he motions her to turn around by gripping her shoulders gently. She complies, and one touch of his hand on the back of her head, and she lowers to the floor. It pushes her bottom up, and she unconsciously spreads her legs wider apart, giving him a glimpse of her pink, warm pussy. She had shaved just an hour before, wanting that skin to be smooth and soft for him.

He kneels behind her, his palms caressing her back. She places her hands over her head, extending them out, a position of supplication, almost of worship. She can feel his strong cock nudging her sex, teasing her, tempting her. She remains still, simply holding her position, waiting. 

She takes a deep trembling breath, the waiting so hard. She wants and needs him, but knows this is a time for him, a time to show her devotion. His hands massage her rounded cheeks, his fingers pressing into the flesh. 

"Whose ass is this, angel?" he asks her.

"Yours, Master," she answers quickly, knowing it to be the truth.

His fingers slide between her legs, spreading the full lips apart, then moving his fingers in small circles just inside her cunt. That word, it pops into her head. Cunt; a warm, wet living part of her, a part that belongs to him, to fuck, lick, nibble, fill. Cunt; to wrap slickly around him, a warm tunnel he invades, satisfying so many desires, both hers and his. She arches her back involuntarily, then catches herself and resumes her position.

He begins to spank her bottom with hard, rapid swats, the sharp cracking sound music to her ears. She laces her fingers together, clenching them tight, a soft groan escaping her lips. She doesn't understand this desire of hers to be spanked, she just revels in it. Giving him that soft skin, wanting to please him with it. Knowing he likes the marks he leaves on her skin, marks she cherishes later.

Sometimes it scares her, the depth of her need to be spanked by him. Wanting it harder, faster, longer, til she begs him to stop. She shudders, trying to control her own body, to just let him have her. 

He spanks her for a few moments, her skin turning a lovely pink, then helps her to her feet. He guides her to the bed and leans down to kiss her. She lets her mouth soften, open, his tongue plunging deeply into her, claiming it. 

Pulling back, he adjusts the blindfold, making sure it is securely over her eyes. He efficiently puts wrist cuffs on, then ties her to the headboard. He talks to her all the while, telling her what a good slut she is, how obedient, how sweet, how hot. The words soak into her, soothing yet arousing at the same time. She wants to be his good girl, his nasty little slut, anything he wants her to be.

She feels his weight on the bed, and he ties her breasts with the soft brown rope. Tighter this time, she feels her nipples start to throb. She relaxes on the bed, trusting him. He plays with her nipples, pinching, twisting, tugging on them. She tries to lay still, but it's so hard.

Soundlessly he walks around the bed, and she feels the pinch of the wooden clothespins on each nipple. She sucks in a deep breath as the pain registers in her head, in her body. She arches her back, thrusting them out, the pleasure/pain exquisite. His hands roughly massage them, squeezing them tight in his grip. 

Laying there, she pants softly. He moves to her ankles, cuffing them as well, then tying them spread wide apart, with her knees up. It opens her cunt up to his view. She can't stop a slight lifting of her hips. He suddenly slaps her pussy, and she holds still.

"Good girl," he murmurs.

She thinks she will go crazy from the wanting welling up from deep inside her. But she waits, forcing her body to relax. Again she feels him on the bed, his hands massaging her breasts roughly. He tugs on the clothespins, stretching her nipples. She groans, and he snatches them off quickly. She gasps, and he straddles her body, his ass in her face. She can feel the heat of him, the smell intoxicating. He reaches back and spreads his cheeks.

"Lick my ass, angel," he commands her.

Lifting her head, she sticks her tongue out, and finds his warm asshole. She knows how he likes it licked by her, and she devours him. Her tongue probing, licking, trying to penetrate him. For long moments she makes love to his asshole with her mouth, pleasuring him. The groans and sounds of pleasure drive her on. 

He lifts slightly, and she suckles and slurps his balls, rolling them with her tongue. She returns to his now wet asshole, laving it steadily. She loves doing this for him, to him, for herself.

He moves again, and her mouth opens. His cock slides into her wet hungry mouth. He thrusts deeply, and she has to force her throat to relax to take his thickness.

Lowering his head, he buries his face in her pussy. It pushes his cock deeper into her throat. She feels deliciously trapped there, his bonds on her ankles and wrists, his cock in her mouth, his mouth on her cunt, his weight pressing her down. She gives him that sweet wet cunt, knowing he likes the control of making her cum with his mouth.

He fucks her mouth as he sucks on her hard throbbing clit. She moves as much as her body is able to with his body on top of her. Her legs are straining wide apart, reaching, wanting. He lifts his head.

"Cum, now, angel," he growls.

Sucking harder on her clit, he groans deep in his chest, and she explodes. She can't scream, she can't cry out, because his cock is stuffed in her throat. She can only convulse weakly, the orgasm rippling through her in waves. 

As she calms down, he removes his mouth from her, and his cock from her mouth. He unbinds her wrists, leaving the cuffs on. He reaches up and again mauls her breasts, then massages them gently, making her groan with the feeling. He next releases her ankles, and pushes on her side, silently telling her to roll over. She does, her body still trembling from the powerful orgasm he allowed her. 

"Show me that asshole, my angel," he urges. 

Reaching back, she spreads her cheeks wide apart, feeling her asshole gaping. She moves seductively, offering him that warm tight hole. He watches her, her asshole opening and closing slightly, loving how she looks when she does this. Knowing she does it because he asks her to.

He pours lubricant over her, then positions himself at that inviting opening. He slowly sinks into her, til he is buried to the hilt inside that tight hot ass. She relaxes her body, yielding to that hard stiff cock. The pain is mild, but arousing. She loves giving him her ass, letting him fuck her there. It makes her feel like such a nasty slut, such a bad girl. 

God, she wants to beg him to fuck her, to fuck her tight ass, to spank her at the same time, but she knows it's not the time. Her breasts are crushed against the bed, The ropes are still tightly around them, her breasts throbbing. 

Fucking her slowly, he moves with long full thrusts, all the way in, then sliding out, then back in. She rubs her face on the bed, her body on fire everywhere.

He puts his hands on her sides, and continues taking her tight ass. After a few minutes, he pulls out, and she hears him stroking his cock. She spreads her cheeks wider, knowing her asshole is loose and open. God, she feels like such a slut; such a wonderful, wicked slut. She groans.

She feels his hot creamy cum landing on her asshole, soaking her, running down her cunt. Jesus, she wants to cum again. She thinks she will explode with the need. He pushes her again, and she rolls on her back. He guides her hands to that wet pussy, and she starts rubbing, using his cum as lubricant. 

"That's it, angel, cum for me," he moans.

Rubbing her clit, knowing he is watching her, knowing he likes to see her masturbate for him, drives her higher. She cums hard, her body bucking up off the bed. As it fades, she slumps on the bed. She feels weak, exhausted, spent. He gently removes the ropes from her sore breasts, soothing them as she moans with the pain.

She waits for his instructions, wanting to please him still. He wraps his arms around her, holding her tight, pressing small kisses on her face. He removes the blindfold and kisses her eyes. She is his, simply, completely, his.

Surrender by Cathy O'Niel copyright 2005 



Surrender



Helen was sifting through the latest batched of replies to her online adult dating advert when she came across Graham's and laughed! His self-assurance bordered on arrogance - in fact it didn't border on arrogance - it was arrogance! He was a self proclaimed master of the bedroom, promising Helen a time she would never forget, with complete satisfaction guaranteed. He would, he said, send her home knowing just how good sex could be, so long as she did as she was told!

Normally Helen would have treated such apparent conceit with disdain and would have consigned the message to the recycle bin, but for some reason today was different. After reading it a time or two she found she had to take him seriously, she didn't know why, but something about his attitude appealed to her. In fact, the whole idea of surrendering herself to him was turning her on, and before she knew it she had emailed back to signal her interest. But even as she did so she wondered if she dare become involved with someone with such leanings? What was he, egotist, dominant, or psychopath? 

Over the next three or four weeks Helen nervously corresponded with Graham via email, trying to discover just what he was about, trying to make sure of his intentions and her safety, the possibilities both exciting and scaring her. 

Eventually Graham became impatient with her caution and wrote bluntly that while he was dominant he was no sadist. He was not what was known in BDSM terms as a 'Dom', he had no wish to be called 'Master', and he would not torture or 'damage' her. But she would, he said, do things his way and enjoy it, and that would involve a certain amount of erotic pain along the way. If she wasn't prepared for that, then he was not for her! To Helen's intense and pussy wetting surprise, she was not only prepared for it, but found the whole idea extremely arousing!

And so it was that a week later Helen found herself in Graham's kitchen waiting with clammy hands for him to begin the fun, and still marvelling that she was actually daring to go through with it! Strangely, the fear had gone, replaced by a thrill of anticipation! 

She looked at Graham properly for the first time, hmmm, not bad looking, well built, dark hair and eyes, in his early forties to her late forties, and only a couple of inches taller than her 5'7", but seeming much more somehow because of his forceful personality. 

He was speaking. "Let's make sure we're clear. The door facing you at the top of the stairs leads to my bedroom, once you walk through there you are mine totally until tomorrow morning, and I do mean totally! You will do as I say, anything I say, when I say it, and without argument! If I tell you to strip off, stand at the window and show the street your cunt, that's what you will do! Got it?" 

'Oh, yes, I've got it' she thought, that self same cunt suddenly filling with juices at the idea. But she didn't say that, somehow she didn't think he wanted to hear it, so she simply nodded dumbly. 

"If you prefer, you can walk through the front door and we'll say goodbye, no hard feelings." He looked at her and went on, "But once we start there is no backing out, now is your last chance. Which door are you going to go through?"

The doubts had gone, there was no way she was going through the front door. Yes, the doubts had gone, but the butterflies hadn't, she could feel their wings fluttering all up inside her pussy, adding to the anticipation of things to come. She stood up, put the coffee cup firmly down on the worktop, deliberately walked through the hall, climbed the stairs, pushed open the bedroom door and walked in, heart pounding! 

Graham followed her through, closed the bedroom door behind him, leaned back on it as if to emphasise her imprisonment, and gazed openly at her body, drinking in the trim lines and causing her cheeks to flame to the open lust on his face. "Right you little slut, time to see what you're made of. Strip!" The last word came as an order, one which she could not disobey. But she could not face him as she did so, gazing at the floor as she unbuttoned her blouse, slipped it off and unclipped her bra. 'Is he watching me?' She wondered, half hoping he was, and half hoping he wasn't. She slid her jeans down and stepped out of them, then hooked her thumbs into her panties and slipped them off, all the time holding her gaze firmly on the carpet, her natural shyness still holding sway! "Look at me". She raised her face and found to her surprise that while she had undressed so had he, his state of arousal very obvious. He stood naked in front of her, revelling in the shock on her face! His erection was long, thick and obviously very, very, hard! "Lie down" he said "pointing to the bed". She did so, wondering what was to follow. She soon knew! "Open your legs, show me your cunt" She spread her legs slowly revealing the lips of her pussy to his gaze, the silly thought that she should have trimmed her pubic hair before leaving home momentarily flitting through her mind! As more and more of her sex came under his scrutiny and her legs went wider, seemingly of their own accord, her mind screamed 'God, he'll see how turned on I am'. But before she could worry his next command came. "Spread yourself, slut! Use your fingers; I want to see your clit". She did as she was told, adrenalin and arousal keeping her shyness at bay. He leaned forward and for a joyous moment she thought he was going to fuck her. But he simply stared at her glistening pussy. "Now hold your legs right back so I can see your arse. I might want to fuck it later" Again she did as she was told, his orders leaving little option, but this time shame flamed on her cheeks. With the very recent exception of Andy, no-one, not even her husband, had ever seen her anus, let alone peered so closely at that puckered little hole and so casually threatened to penetrate it!

"Ok, very nice, now stand up and turn around". She stood with her back to him, seeing him take something from a cupboard drawer out of the corner of her eye. That 'something' soon turned out to be a blindfold and as he put it over her eyes and fastened it around her head she knew she was even more completely in his control. He turned her around with his hands on her shoulders so that her back was now to the bed, and then pressed her down, not too roughly, but firmly enough for her to be unable to prevent herself from sitting down on the edge of the bed. His motive soon became clear. Putting his hands behind her head he pulled her forward until she could feel the head of his penis against her left cheek. She raised her hands to grasp his shaft, but a sharp, "No! I'll tell you when!" made them drop back quickly to her sides. He began to rub the head gently around her lower face, using one hand to hold her head still. She felt it move fleetingly across her lips and she began automatically to part them, ready to take it in, but it had moved on, leaving a little wet trail of pre-cum across her nose as it made it's way back around to the left cheek. As the new circuit of her face began this time he paused it on her lips, making her heart beat harder as she believed for the moment she could suck it. But again it moved on, tracing the same moist line around and around her face, pausing for a second each time to tease her mouth as it passed and making her want to beg for it to enter. Then, this time it didn't pause, it stopped, and suddenly forced its way between her surprised lips, not giving her the chance to invite it. 

With both hands now back behind her head Graham began to move his hips, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth before withdrawing it almost out again. With each movement he pushed harder and deeper, never letting her pull back, until she began to feel panic that she would retch as it reached the back of her throat, before learning to accommodate it's length! 'This', she thought, 'is the best blow job I've ever done', but even as she thought it she realised it wasn't true. She wasn't giving Graham a blow job, he was fucking her mouth! And fuck her mouth he did, thrusting in and out until his movements became spasmodic and she knew his climax was approaching! The nearness of his orgasm and the prospect of tasting his cum made her own arousal even more intense, her juices flowing again and dampened the bed beneath her. 

And then he came, pushing right into her mouth in his need, spurt after spurt of cum gushing into her throat! With his climax so nearly came her own, but she didn't quite make it and as he withdrew his rapidly shrinking cock she felt hot, shaky and quite unbelievably frustrated, her body aching for release! But Graham seemed oblivious to her heat, as his cock subsided and slipped from her mouth he just pushed her away, to fall backwards onto the bed, and she heard him move from the bedside without a word! Beneath the blindfold Helen felt tears well up in her eyes. Was this going to be it? Was he simply going to use her body for his own pleasure without thought for her needs? She knew that he had said it would be his way, but she had never thought that he could be so selfish, and he had said she would enjoy it! Even as these thoughts went through her mind she knew, perversely, that the very humiliation he had just heaped upon her was helping fuel her desires! She wanted to be his plaything, needed him to use her, his pleasure was going to be her satisfaction!

Suddenly she felt his hands hook under her arms from behind. In her reverie of desire and frustrated self pity she had not realised that he had moved around to the head of the bed. Now, back into reality, she felt herself pulled bodily right onto the bed, full length down its middle. Graham then took her right arm, pulling out away from her body and holding it firmly just above the wrist. Before she could fully wonder what was happening, she felt something wrap around her wrist and heard the sound of Velcro fastening! Sudden realisation hit her! This was a bondage strap; he was tying her to his bed, surely not! But he was, he now had the other arm and had repeated the process before she could protest. She tried to pull her arms away but they were securely held straight out away from her body. And still he hadn't finished, first one ankle and then the other was firmly bound to the bed, leaving her like a starfish spread across the bed, all dignity and modesty lost!

Again she could hear him fumbling in a drawer, but again she had to wait to find out what it was. But the wait was not long; she felt his fingers delving between the lips of her pussy, searching for the entrance. He found it suddenly, his two fingers sliding easily into her wetness, the revelation of her arousal bringing more shame to her cheeks. For a few brief, but wonderful moments, he fingered her, pushing his fingers far into her and hooking them up as if searching for her G spot. She felt a moan escape her lips and immediately his fingers withdrew, leaving her cursing her inability to keep quiet. For a minute or so nothing happened, but she sensed him standing beside the bed, gazing at her helpless nakedness, but then she felt his hand return to her pussy, parting her lips once again with his fingers. 

But it wasn't fingers that entered her this time. This time she felt something hard and cool press against her before entering, almost with a plop, her lips closing behind it! What now? But then she knew. Beautiful and stimulating vibrations suddenly flooded through her vagina, making her gasp with pleasure and then panic that the sound might cause it to stop again. He had inserted a vibrating egg, one of the sex toys that she had long thought of buying but had never dared! God! But she would after this! It wasn't going to take much of this to bring her to a jerking, helpless, mind-blowing orgasm! 

But Graham was not about to let her have that release. No sooner had her hips begun to twitch with the approach of her climax than the vibrations decreased, subsiding to an almost undetectable buzz. Just enough to keep her simmering, but not enough to make her come. 'You cruel bastard,' she thought, not daring to say it out loud for fear of consequences! For a moment she thought he must have read her thoughts because she heard him open the door and leave the room, leaving her to her frustrations!

She lay for what seemed forever, though she learned later that he was gone only long enough to smoke a cigarette, all the time her pussy on fire, never quite reaching orgasm, but always near the edge, held there by this little gently vibrating bit of plastic. It was the longest, best, worst, most fantastic, pleasurable, unendurable, and awful, wait of her life! 

When he returned she heard him come around the bed and place something (what now?) on the bedside table. She felt his weight transfer to the bed as he sat on the edge and she waited to see what new thing he had in store for her! To her absolute surprise this turned out to be a gentle, compassionate, almost loving, kiss full on the lips, not aggressive or given with lip bruising passion, but a lovers kiss, full of affection. His mouth transferred it's attentions to her nipples. First one and then the other received this same gentle, pussy melting, kiss. The shock of this change of approach left her totally bewildered, her mind racing, wildly trying to make sense out of the whole session! His lips closed again over her nipple, this time sucking, nibbling, and pinching it between his lips. The tempo of his kisses increased, the sucking harder, now nipping with his teeth, stretching the nipple out from her breast before letting it fall back, it's release sending a jolt of pleasure through her, adding to the sensations from her still vibrating pussy. He concentrated his efforts on her left breast, ignoring the right, until the pleasure was almost painful, the nipple becoming sore from his teeth and lips, before he let it go and she felt him sit up. 

But he had not finished with it, for a sudden drop of cold water heralded a new sensation as he plied the overheated nipple with ice, running a cube around it, widening the circle until it covered the whole of her breast. By now she was moaning softly from pleasure, past remembering that this had previously caused the pleasure to stop!

He leaned forward again to kiss, she thought, her right breast. But once again he surprised her with a new sensation! This time her sensitive nipple received the full benefit of the hot coffee he held in his mouth! Again her back arched with new pleasurable feelings, an orgasm again threatening to overwhelm her. More ice, this time sending shivers through her as he trailed it across her stomach and onto her upper thighs, just below a pussy that needed to be cooled! Ice cubes slid over her belly, up around her breasts, onto her neck and then down, down to the little patch of pubic hair. Here it stopped and skirted around her pussy, back onto her thighs. She was now writhing slowly, gyrating her hips as much as the restraints would allow, soft moans escaping her lips as she steeled herself not to beg for release.

Then it stopped! Nothing! No ice, no hot kisses, not even, she suddenly realised, vibrations from the egg. Oh, it was still inside her, but he'd switched it off. Nothing! Again she lay bewildered, not even sure if he were still with her. 

Once again without warning he struck! This time the ice cube was placed directly against her clit, the sudden cold giving it an electrifying sensation, before being removed, again without warning and leaving her once more in suspense. Six more times he did this, placing ice on her clit or against her breasts, always without warning and after making her wait for a varying length of time. 

Again she felt him suddenly move, but this time it was not to use ice. The egg, that she had almost forgotten about suddenly burst into life at full bore, sending sensation after sensation ripping through her. Again her body began the climb toward orgasm as her mind wondered how close she would be allowed to get. This time, though, it would be different. She felt him lean towards her and his tongue suddenly flicked across her clit. She jerked from pleasure and surprise, trying to open her legs further to encourage him to do it again - please! But he needed no pleading, his mouth finally closed over her pussy, his tongue working away at her, bringing her closer and closer to that long awaited climax. He then sucked her clit between his lips, holding it there while he repeatedly flicked his tongue over the end. Whether he intended her to come or not she didn't know, or care, this was too much, Her orgasm ripped through her, the sensations flowing through her body, away from her clit and then racing back to burst like waves! She cried out, wailing her release, thrashing against the restraints that stopped her from bucking too far. Never had she had an orgasm like this one, it seemed that it would go on forever, growing to an intensity beyond anything she had experienced. And she would certainly never forget it! 

At last the sensations subsided, her orgasm was over, she lay trembling on the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably and her body shivering as if chilled. Graham switched off her plastic pal, pulled it slowly from her pussy and kissed her on the forehead! "That one was for you, the rest will be for me," he said. She suddenly realised that these were the first words he had said to her since the reprimand he gave her so long ago. The whole episode since then had been conducted in complete silence, deliberately so, she realised, to isolate her even more from reality while he played with her desires! But what, she wondered, did he mean by the rest will be for him? 

He lifted her head slightly and she felt him fumble behind it before her blindfold came loose and was lifted away! The sudden brightness made her blink rapidly and screw up her eyes against the light, a light she suddenly realised that was directly above her. Early evening had passed in a whirl of sexual desire and pleasure into late evening without her noticing and now the curtains were drawn and the room lights were on! A shiver passed through her as a chill from the wetness left by the ice struck her nakedness. She also realised with a jolt just how exposed that nakedness was under the main lights and again her cheeks flamed as she remembered the uninhibited writhing that her sexual heat had caused and how much he must have smiled to watch her!

But, where was he? She looked around wildly, thinking for the moment that he had again left her to her own devices. He was just where she might have guessed, stood at the foot of the bed, between her open legs and looking up the length of her body with an even broader grin on his face than she had expected! "Welcome back" he said "back to reality, and I haven't even fucked you yet!". Nor had he, she realised, instinctively raising her head to look over the peaks of her breasts to see further down his body to where his cock still stood, the fact that it still stood giving her the information she needed. There was more to come!

He was speaking! "I think you'd better freshen up", he said, indicating a door leading, she supposed, to an ensuite bathroom.

In the privacy of the bathroom, Helen came to two major discoveries. Firstly, her body was not damp with the remains of melted ice as she had supposed, which must have dried long since, but by sweat! Sweat generated by her overwhelming sexual excitement and by her fighting against the restraints that had held her so deliciously helpless! And even that was not the full story! The dampness inside her thighs was not just sweat, but sweat mixed with pussy juices! In fact the whole area around her pussy - pussy? No! - 'cunt', call it her 'cunt', - much more daring and abandoned than 'pussy' and much more in keeping with how she felt! That whole region was soaking wet. She had been, and still was, more aroused than she'd ever been in her whole life! 




Surrender



Her second discovery led quite naturally from the first! She had been turned on by having to submit to Graham's demands. She was his harlot, his slave, to do with as he wanted! Anything! Anything at all! No matter how perverse or humiliating, she could not envisage ever saying no to Graham. She had found an aspect of herself she had not suspected, and now she wanted to explore it to the full! She was a slut, a whore, a slave, and she was intent on enjoying her servitude!

Graham would be waiting! She snapped herself out of her reverie, forced her fingers away from her clit to where they had wandered without her knowing, and stepped out of the shower. She dried herself hastily, wrapped the towel around herself and headed for the bedroom door. About a yard short of the door she stopped. He would not want her to come out of the bathroom still damp and with a towel wrapped around her body! He would want to see her naked, dry, and ready to do his bidding! She dried herself rapidly but thoroughly, mentally braced herself for whatever he should heap upon her, and stepped into the bedroom, her body once more ready for his demands.

Again he caught her out! Again he came up with something that stopped her in her tracks! Gone were the harsh electric lights, the room now was softly lit by a half dozen candles strategically placed, and Graham sat on the bed, still naked, his back against the headboard, and a tray with a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table alongside! He smiled at her hesitation, patted the bed alongside him and said softly "Come and sit here, let's talk a while." She did as she was told, her mind again reeling from the sudden change of mood, meekly accepting the arm he placed around her, drawing her close to snuggle alongside him on the bed. She raised her face questioningly to him and he lowered his, gently and briefly kissing her on the lips, the kiss taking the place of the hoped for explanation.

Graham poured wine, passing a glass to Helen. "What made you go along with this?" he asked after a minute. 

"I don't know really." She replied. "As they say, it seemed like a good idea at the time." 

He looked at her sharply but went on quietly. "Was it because you wanted to see if you could defy me, or because you wanted to taste the pleasures of submission?" 

"I don't know." She did really, right at the back of her mind a little light came on and she was sure, without doubt, that it was the idea of submission that made her agree. The term 'sexual plaything' used in one of his emails had, she now knew, struck a subconscious chord and awakened a desire within her that she just had to follow! 

"Yes, you do", he persisted. "Was it the thought of a challenge or the idea of being submissive?" 

She wanted to tell him, to admit her feelings, but something from her upbringing prevented it. 'Nice girls' don't feel like that! 

"I don't know!" she repeated, "I was drunk when I agreed to meet you". She was grasping at straws, and knew it. 

"But you were sober when you got here!" Graham pointed out the obvious flaw in her reasoning. 

She drank some more wine. "But I'd agreed then". That was more excuse than reason! 

"And you didn't take the chance to leave when I offered it" He refilled their glasses watching her discomfort; she was losing and knew it, but somehow could not bring herself to acknowledge what she felt! 

"I don't know what made me say yes, but, once I'd agreed I couldn't very well back out, could I". She flared up at him briefly, but the same sharp look as before quelled her rebellion almost as soon as it began! 

"Oh?" he asked. "And is that why having to show your cunt off to me turned you on?" 

Oh God! So he had noticed! Helen felt ashamed of her body's responses! 

"I wasn't turned on". Her denial sounded hollow even to her! 

"So you're always as wet as that?" 

"No! - I mean I wasn't wet". 

"So sucking me off left you cold?" 

She drained her glass before answering, "Yes!" 

"And being tied to the bed didn't make you randy?" He was relentless! 

"No!" 

"So why did your cunt almost suck that little vibrator out of my fingers?" 

Helen flushed scarlet! 

"And is that why there was already a little wet patch on the sheets between your legs, don't tell me you have a bladder problem!" 

She felt very confused, not only stuck with a denial she could not sustain, she now had a growing arousal fed by the very humiliation of his remarks. 

"Of course I haven't" Faced with a choice of the two derogatory options she was forced into submission! "You know damn well I was hot!" 

"Say that again!" His voice was hard, demanding, determined to make sure of his victory. 

"I was hot, randy, horny, aroused, in need - how much do you want me to say it?" 

Her voice cracked with emotion as she blurted out. "I wanted everything you did, I wanted it ever since I read your first fucking email! And if there is anything else you want - then I'll do that too!" 

There, she'd said it! 

"Yes, you will" Came a calm reply, "Because that is the arrangement, until tomorrow you are mine, and don't forget it!" 

Graham swung his legs off the bed, stood up and reached out his hand to her. "Come here". 

She stood and he led her around to the foot of the bed where the duvet lay in an untidy roll on the floor. 

"Kneel there, facing the bed" His voice was not harsh, yet it brooked no refusal! 

Helen knelt on the discarded duvet and Graham approached her from behind, once more covering her eyes with the blindfold. Blindfold fastened, he then bent her forward so that her stomach and breasts were against the mattress while her bottom stuck up into the air and her thighs sloped away from the end of the bed! This done Graham once more pulled her arms out to the side, fastening them again into restraint cuffs that seemed to her to be fixed somewhere along the side of the bed! Now in a kind of face down crucifix position Helen waited, strangely elated to be helpless once more and highly aroused by the thought of what might be to come. If she had known in advance, though, she might have been a little more apprehensive! 

"There is one thing I want you to absolutely certain of." Graham's voice came from behind her, "If I ask you something, I expect an immediate, truthful answer!" At that point a hand cracked across her bare arse cheek. 'Slap!' And then again, 'Slap!' across the other cheek! Shock and pain swept through her! She reared up against her tethers, trying to move instinctively away from her pain! 

"What the hell...!" She began. 

'Slap!' There came another stinging blow! "Quiet, you cheap slut!" Graham's voice this time was angry. "You can speak when I say, not until, I've got more to say to you yet!" Yet another blow came, 'Slap!' sending hot pain through her! "You will learn." Graham continued. "That I don't want sarcasm about 'it seemed a good idea', and I don't want you answering me back!" 'Slap!' 'Slap!' Two more smacks came in quick succession, one across each cheek! 

By now Helen was straining away from her tormentor, her legs straight out pushing her further onto the bed, and tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, 'How dare he!' she thought, and then immediately answered herself. 'Because I'm his to do with as he wants!' 

He was speaking again, "If something I do makes you horny, you'll damn well tell me when I ask! Your cunt doesn't lie, that will tell me if you don't and this will be the result of lying!" 

'Slap!' 'Slap!' 'Slap!' More blows rained down on her bare bottom! Her arse was on fire, she knew, even though she couldn't see, that her cheeks were glowing red from the slaps. She also knew, to her intense shame, that something about this spanking was getting to her! The quick breaths she was taking and the squirming of her body were not altogether down to the pain of her cheeks! She was getting very turned on! 

"You will do as I wish now, won't you?" She heard Graham talking, demanding her answers, but she couldn't speak, trapped in her own little world of pain and desire. "Answer me," 'Slap!' "Will you obey me?" Still she couldn't answer! She wanted to be hurt! She wanted to be fucked, and she didn't know which she wanted more! 'Slap!' Another beautifully hard smack across her arse. "Tell me!" 

Finally she spoke the words, "Yes, I will obey you!" The words came out in a rush and she knew that she meant it! 

"Then whilst we're at it, let's clear up another point. You are nothing but a slut, aren't you?" 

Helen deliberately paused before answering! She knew that the pause would bring its reward! 'Slap!' 'Slap!' 'Slap!'. More fuel to the fire that her arse had become, and more fuel to her arousal that was now making her grind her pubes into the mattress, trying to get some friction going to give her release! 

"Yes, I'm a slut", she finally stammered, tears rolling down her cheeks from shame and humiliation! 

"And a whore?" 

Again she paused and again the smacks came in retribution! But now she had given up all pretence! She lay writhing on the bed in an openly sexual way, pushing her arse back towards Graham's stinging hands instead of away, opening her legs for him to see how aroused she was! 

"And a whore!" She never knew that pleasure and pain could be so alike! 

"And shall I fuck this little slut? Shall I stick my cock right up this whore's wet cunt?" Yesterday to hear language like that would only have brought on a feeling of revulsion, but now...! "Oh, yes, I know how wet you are my little bitch! I can see your juices shining! You just can't wait to be fucked, can you?" 

She couldn't wait, she needed fucking, and she knew she did! "Fuck me now, Graham, please fuck me!" The very earthiness of the language serving only to make her wetter! 

"Soon! very soon!" Graham's words gave some hope to her. "But not quite yet" Hope died and even her cunt felt disappointed. "It seems you have a liking for a little pleasurable pain; let's see how true that is! Let's see if my little tart really does enjoy the darker pleasure!" 

His words gave her mind a sense of joy and foreboding, both at once, delicious fearful apprehension! Her body responded by pushing itself even harder against her restraints, thrusting her arse back and up, opening her cheeks for to view. Her body wanted anything he cared to subject her to!

She felt, rather then saw, him move around the bed and return. Then, across the back of her thigh came a sensation she had never believed possible. This was pain! This was pleasure! This was on the very limits from where intense, mind blowing, pleasure turns simply to intense, searing, pain! She gasped, a guttural, almost animal-like, moan escaping her lips! It came again, this time on the other thigh. She groaned again, her arousal turning into sexual ecstasy as she bucked against the sensations in her legs! A third time! This time higher, almost on the curve of her arse. 

Now she was becoming a little more acclimatised to it and she began to understand. The pain was heat! Just a fraction away from true burning, it was the exact opposite to the ice she had experienced earlier, but so much more intense! Candle wax! The penny dropped, he was dripping hot, molten wax across her. So that was why the candles! She had heard of this being done, but never thought to experience it! Again it came, and she found she wanted it! She was waiting for the next drop! Where next? Each new spot brought another low moan of ecstasy from her! On her behind, across her legs, along her back and even her arms, the spots of liquid fire rained down, sensation after sensation coursing through her!

Finally it ended, though she waited in hope and anticipation no more came, and she knelt panting from the pain and from her sexual need! Now was the time for the ice cubes, but they were not forthcoming! Nor for that matter, was anything else. Once again Graham had, it seemed, left her high, frustrated and helpless! 

This time the wait was short, Graham too was in heat, he could wait no more than could Helen! He came to kneel behind her, pushing her legs further apart, as he manoeuvred himself into position. His fingers found their way between her legs, probing for her entrance! There was no danger of him not finding his way in; she could feel that she was so wet that his entire hand was in danger! Two fingers went into her pussy, fucking in and out, bringing her once again to the boil! Then his thumb probed higher in her crack, looking for her anus and finding it! Again, there was no trouble in entry; she was soaking, her juices lubricating her anus as easily as her cunt! 

She'd never had anyone explore her arsehole in quite this way, but she loved it. Immediately, she loved it! It gave her a sense of ultimate humiliation and ultimate daring. She wanted more! In and out thrust Graham's fingers and thumb, finger fucking both holes harder and harder! Helen was in heaven, pushing back as hard as she could, seeking that last millimetre of penetration! 'Oh, God, where was his cock?' No sooner had the thought gone through her mind than the digits withdrew. 

'Yes, this is it!' she thought! And indeed it was! Finally, after all that had happened that evening his cock was searching for her vagina! In it slid, right in, all the way in one gorgeous thrust! Helen groaned as he withdrew so that the very tip rested between her pussy lips, before he thrust again, fast, hard, and deep. Several times he did this, but his arousal was much too great for him to resist for long, and he began fucking her properly in long strong thrusts, getting steadily faster and faster as he approached his own climax. But he had one last trick up his sleeve it seemed, for suddenly, just as uneven breathing and jerky thrusting told of his impending orgasm, he stopped and pulled out! 

'It doesn't matter, I can't get pregnant, don't stop!' Helen screamed silently, not daring to say anything but willing him to enter her again! 

But when he did, it was not quite what she expected, for she felt the hard end of his cock pushing itself against her anal sphincter, gently but deliberately forcing a way inside! She pushed back against him, suddenly wanting this perverse intrusion, glad that he was again using her for something else he wanted! And suddenly he was in, past the ring of muscle and into her rectum. Gently he pushed in further, easing his length into her, the juices from her sopping pussy still acting as lubricant. And then she felt his body against her arse cheeks and knew that she had him all, his entire length up inside her! This knowledge alone brought her close to orgasm, and when he began thrusting into her she knew it was only a short time away! Gently at first, then harder he moved in and out of her anus, working back up to the rhythm with which he had fucked her pussy. Again he began to breathe harder, shallower, and she knew he intended to come in her arse! Harder and harder he thrust, closer and closer they both worked towards their own orgasms. Hers came first, an earth shattering, mind blowing, orgasm that threatened to rip her mind apart. She pushed wildly back at him, heedless of where his cock was thrusting, just wanting more of it inside her. And then he groaned, thrust once hard into her and she felt his cum spurting high into her arse! 

When his climax had subsided and her own body was back under control, Helen did the only thing she could think of. 

She said "Thank You!"



Surrender



"This could get interesting..."

That's the thought racing through my head as you lead me – naked and blindfolded – into a room that smells of sex and hot wax. I'd like to ask where we are and what's going to happen, but you've made it clear I shouldn't speak without permission.

I hear a door close – and lock.

Quietly, and with a tone that says you're not to be denied, I hear you say, "On your knees."

Instinctively I obey. I'm usually more in control, but something about you makes me want to give in...

From behind me, your mouth so close to my ear I can feel your hot breath on my skin, you whisper, "Now remember...you volunteered for this and you've agreed to do everything I say, correct?"

"Yes, Master."

"Open your mouth." Again and without question I obey. I sense motion as you reach over my head and position something – plastic? No, leather – into my mouth. You secure the gag at the back of my head and make sure the fit is tight. You kiss my neck lightly and advise, "Now be a good girl and stay quiet and this will all be over soon."

I don't want it to be over. My nipples are erect and my pussy is wet with anticipation.

You can tell by my quivering body that I'm enjoying this. "Spread your legs," you say, and begin to trace your hand across my back as I struggle to obey. I wince in pain and pleasure as a paddle connects with my ass. "That's for showing your pleasure," you say and shove your hand between my legs, "Now be still!"

Your fingers expertly work my clit and, though I'm trying very hard to behave, a small whimper of desire escapes the confines of my gag as I press my mound against you.

Abruptly your hand is gone leaving my swollen clit unattended. In spite of myself I reach down to ease the delicious pain. Before I reach my waist you've grabbed my arms and lifted me roughly to my feet.

"You are a very bad girl! I can't trust you, can I?" Afraid of the possible punishment I face, I nod vigorously that yes, you can trust me...but it does no good.

"I can see you're not going to behave unless I force you to." With that, my wrists are bound in front of me. My arms are lifted, and my binding is fastened to something above me. The feeling is surreal. "What have I gotten myself into?" I have to stand on my toes to ease the pain in my arms...but I like it.

Suddenly your body is next to mine. I feel the heat coming off you and wish I could taste your skin. Your rapid breath, quickened pulse, and rock-hard cock against my thigh tell me your excitement must be unbearable. I want so badly to take you in my mouth...then I remember the gag.

"I've told you be quiet and be still, and you've disobeyed me," you say as you step away from me.

Without warning a liquid heat makes its way down my chest and over my breasts until it drips off my hard nipples. Candle wax. My pleasure is undeniable as you give my ass the same treatment. But I won't give in – I can't disappoint my Master again...

Not a muscle flinches as you trace the outline of the wax with an ice cube. "Such a good girl," you say approvingly, and my juices flow at the sound of your satisfaction.

"Step up and forward," is the next command, and it comes with a not-so-gentle nudge at the back of my legs with...some kind of stick? I obey without hesitation this time, though the punishment has been wonderful...

My new position has me bent slightly forward, giving you easy access.

"Perfect. Now to add the finishing touch..." I feel something cold, thick, and stiff enter my pussy. "There we go," you say as you work it in and out, in and out...it feels amazing and I can't believe you're going to let me cum – then as quickly as it was inserted, the object is removed leaving me unsatisfied and aching for more.

I try to look back at you but remember I can't see anything. I'm completely at your mercy as you take the object that so recently worked my pussy and begin to put it in my ass. I clench at first, but the stick comes down across both cheeks and reminds me who's in charge. "That's gonna' leave a mark," you say with a chuckle. "Now I'm going to fill your ass with this plug because that's what I want. Are we clear, my little pony?" You pull my hair to get me to nod. "Good girl."

Without another word the plug is in my ass, filling me in a way I'm not used to. I realize the "stick" is a riding crop, and you've only just begun... 



Surrender



What are you waiting for Master? I am here. Fuck me up! I know that you can. You are vicious, evil, and sadistic. God I love that about you. You know just how to turn my body and my mind into jello. First you worm your way into my brain, by talking to me that special way you do. Your voice is deep and dark, and excites me like no other man. You love that, don't you?! Threatening me, teasing me, torturing me, telling me what you will do to me. It gets my blood boiling, my head swimming, and makes me drip. I sweat, as my heart races, and I am floating as I try and concentrate on your words. You have not touched me yet, but I want you to more than ever. Take me, I am your property. I am your sex slave and your whore. I will do whatever you want of me, just touch me. My breath is short and I am so turned on. Ask me what my name is, or any simple question, and I have to fight to get the answers out. I am putty in your hands, waiting for you to mold me into what you want, and what you need. Your breath is upon me, and I convulse uncontrollably for you. Don't you understand how much I want you?! You are hot, and even though you don't see it, it is undeniable to me.

Finally you touch me, and ever so lightly at first. My body feels as though your touch is electrifying my body. Your scent fills my nostrils, and I am but an animal in heat. You know how to trace my body with your fingers, seeking out all my good spots. Your voice turns especially evil, and oh so dark. Your hand finds my throat, and grips your possession, just in case I have forgotten that you own me. I can barely breathe, but I don't give a shit, because you take my breath away in any case. Pull my hair Master, and force my head back, as you threaten to fuck with me. Put a knife at my throat, and trace the curves of my neck, and jaw line. Bite my earlobe, and hurt me ever so gently. Now your hands are more forceful, and you find my nipples just waiting for you. Slap them, tease them, and take them between your fingers, Master. Twist them, tug them, pinch them, and make me hurt for you. Suffering for you is all I have ever wanted, and it honors me that I am the one chosen to be the bearer of your attentions. 

Pull my fucking nipples, and bring me up on my toes, as you threaten to tear my sensitive peaks from my body. I gasp in pain and delight, and I drip for you even more. I am so slick now, and rarely have I ever been so turned on. I want you Master, and I know you want me. Force me to my knees, so that I may serve you as you need. I look up at you in awe, for you are the man I love and live for. I look up at your chest, and it heaves in raw lust for me. Your cock strains inside your pants and it begs to be released. I feel you push me to the floor, and apply your boot to my back. You pull my hands together and cuff them roughly. Then you grab my hair, and with your powerful hands, you pick up your slave, and I am back on my knees. What, Master?! Lick your boots? I do so with no shame. This is my place and worshiping you is my pleasure. My tongue finds every inch of your boots, one by one. My saliva makes your boots shine, and I can see your cock pulsing inside your pants. Don't deny it. This shit turns you on, and there is no sense denying it. My teeth find your zipper, once I am done with your boots. I manage to tug at that, and then work on your belt. It takes some doing, but I must have your cock in my mouth. 

Help me Master! I am so fucking horny now. Take me!! No more teasing me! Let me have what I hunger so badly for. You have at least some mercy, as you take down your pants, and then shove my face against your underwear, containing that delicious monster. The bulge is impressive, and I want to eat it up. I lightly bite at the shaft contained there, and notice the pre-cum. You ask me if I want it badly enough?! Fuck you, Master! With all due respect, you must know I do! Finally you peel down the underwear, and your cock is free. My mouth is wide open, just begging to be stabbed at by your member. Right here, my tongue is extended now. Fuck my mouth with your tool. I will make it nice and slick for you Master, and make you feel so good. You grip my hair, and force my head back, and run the shaft across my mouth at a side angle. Not good enough! I need it in my mouth, please! Use me, Master. You tug at my hair, and pull my head back once again. I am but a toy for your amusement, aren't I? You apply two nipple clamps to my sensitive nipples, and just as I scream in pain, you finally let me taste your cock, and I plunge down on it screaming around the shaft. God it fucking hurts! But I love it, and you slowly start to face fuck me, and then pick up the pace. Faster and faster you use my mouth to please you. I fight the urge to gag, and it becomes very sloppy, as juices flow from my mouth. The chain from the nipple clamps swing wildly!

Long streams of throat juices drip out of my mouth, and slime my chest. Tears spring to my eyes, and I want all your cock down my throat. My goal is to take all of you, and I finally do. Your balls finally are resting against my chin, and your cock is super slick. You take your cock out once in a while, and slap it against my cheeks, and wipe some of the slick fluid all over my face. What a slut I must look like. I don't care though. More Master, more! 

Take me Master! Take your filthy little slut, and use this body as you see fit. Finally your moans increase as I can feel your orgasm approaching. I want your cum and want to taste it, swallow it, as it is a part of your soul. You pull out of my mouth, pull my head back, and roar. You cum, and it spurts like thick white ropes, leaping out of your piss slit. Some of it stripes my face, and some lands in my mouth where I can taste you. It is sweet and I must have more. You wipe your hard cock over my face, and rake some of it back to my mouth, and then you have me clean your cock and hand with my tongue. Even your fingers are to be cleaned by me. But, even as you enjoy your orgasm, I can see you are still hard and not finished with me, are you?! I feel you take the nipple clamps off of me, and I scream in pain as each one comes undone.

You toss me to the floor, and I turn my face to the side as I fall forward. The wind is knocked out of me but I recover quickly. What is next, Master? You order me to get up on my knees, and I struggle to obey, but it is not easy with my hands secured behind my back. You tell me that my ass belongs to you, and if you so desire, you will take it. I have no problem with that. You reach down and start spanking my ass. Yes, that feels good, and I wiggle for you, indicating that I want more. My ass soon burns hot, and I am on fire. Will you spank me, or will you fuck me? Maybe both if I am a lucky slave. You kneel between my parted legs, and I feel your slimy cock sliding over my asshole. Oh god!! I don't know if I can take it up there, but do I have a choice? Choices are not for true slaves, but you have always given me choices before. You always give me the choice of something bad or something worse. You know how to make me chose what you really wanted in the first place, don't you?! Bastard! Oh so lovable bastard, Master. 

Cool wet liquid pours over my hole, and it seeps into my body. I am so exposed, and so vulnerable. I can feel your cock head pressing against my asshole. I feel as though I am torn apart, as you enter me. It hurts so badly, and I fight to remember that this is something I want. Whatever you want from me, it is your right to claim it, Master. You slowly enter me and fill me completely. You start to withdraw from me, and the sensation is like nothing else I have experienced before. Before long you are fucking me, and I gasp for air, and the pain ever so slowly starts to turn into pleasure. Not only do you fuck me, but you spank my ass, as you pull out of me. My mind is in overload, and soon I am begging you to fuck me. Harder, Master! Fuck your slut harder! Grab my ass, and use it! Yeah, oh GOD, yes!! I can feel your sweat dripping down on my back, as you plunge into me, harder, and faster. I am your fuck toy now, to be used by you. 

You throw your head back, and moan. Your moaning turns into howling, and then you withdraw from my beaten and abused ass. I hear your cock being stroked from behind me, and though I feeling so empty now, I almost cry for you. Your cock spews its hot liquid cum onto my ass, and my back. I feel totally used, but that is why I am here. To be used by someone, who is the man I love, and love to be dominated by. After a moment, you release my cuffs and turn me over. You put your boot in my face, and order me to play with myself. I do, and lick your boots as I struggle to get myself off. Finally, I feel my orgasm approaching and I beg for your permission to cum. You look down and laugh at me. You have me, Master. There is no denying that, but please be merciful, and allow your slave some release. You tell me one word...."NOW." I explode and for a moment in time, the world stops for me. I don't give a shit about anything or anyone. That moment passes and you reach down for me. I kiss your hand in appreciation, for you have shown me a love like no other. I am your property, and proud of that fact. 

I know I have you. I can make you do almost anything. Beg, grovel, kneel at my feet, and more. Follow my commands, and I shall take you where imagination rules. I can make you suffer like no other; don't forget that. Your pain excites me and torturing you entertains me. I like to push you, hurt you, and take you to the absolute limit of what a slave can endure. I love the power that you entrust me with, and channel that power back into you. It is a strong force, and one that requires great focus or it becomes dangerous. 

I know how to fuck with your brain, and how to electrify every nerve in your body. Once I have your brain, your body will follow. I have the gift of domination, just as you have the gift of submission. We feed off of each other, and embrace our darker side. Raw passion is welcomed and without it, what we do is simply a production without heart. I control you and can take you to the edge, but we are nothing without trust. You must trust me with your life, and I must trust you to tell me if I have taken things too far. We have a symbiotic relationship; one needs the other. A Dominant without a submissive is like a flower without sunlight, soil, and water. It does not exist for very long. I want you...need you in my life. We are good together, but my domination of you comes out of love, and respect for who you are. You have the gift. You are here to serve me, and in pleasing me, I will please you. Remember always that I do what I do out of love; love for you.



Surrender



She slipped onto the barstool and waited. She knew it would take no time at all before she had a man at her side. They would see her as she sat alone at the bar and assume she was a lonely, needy female who would swoon at their feet if they paid her any attention. This routine was getting so old but it worked so well.

Right on cue a man walked up and asked if he could buy her a drink. She looked at him with just the right amount of blush to her cheeks, to make him think she was easy prey. "Why thank you, I would like that."

She had to play the game and be easy but not too easy. That took all the fun out of it if she went too quickly. She at least made them work for it a little.

"So tell me, what is a beautiful lady like you doing sitting here alone at this bar?" Oh my God can't these guys come up with a better line than that. The lines they use make her really have to concentrate not to laugh in their face. She had to think ahead and realize it is all a game. He plays his part she had to play hers.

She smiled shyly. "I have been alone for quite some time now actually. I usually am content to stay at home, but sometimes, like tonight, I grow lonely for company." She glanced up and let her eyes say just enough for him to understand exactly what she meant.

"Well pretty lady, you don't need to be alone tonight if you don't want to be." He put his hand over hers as he said this and she smiled and looked down so he would still believe he was in control of the evening.

They drank their drinks and did the appropriate small talk and then she asked him if he would like to take her home for a night cap.

 He only smiled and paid the bartender. They both knew the game well enough. They agreed to take his car and he would bring her back to hers.

 They arrived at her house and after she took his coat, she asked him what he would like. "I have wine and I also have beer and gin. What can I get you?"

 "A glass of wine would be perfect, thank you." He went over to the CD player, "Would you mind?" She smiled. "Please go ahead." He selected a CD and hit play. She gave him his drink and knew she would have to play along through one dance before the tranquilizer would kick in.

 She gave him his glass and he of course had a toast. "To a most interesting evening." She smiled and drank her wine. He finished his in two drinks and as he sat his glass down he reached for her hand. She let him pull her to him and begin to dance. Their bodies touched completely, they moved against one another as the music played softly in the background. He lifted her chin up to face him and he kissed her softly. She moaned appropriately and allowed his hands to wander over her back and down to her buttocks. He pulled her to him and held her against his hardness. He started to lift up her dress slowly when just then he stepped back and looked at her. She made sure she asked him if he was alright. He put his hand to his head and stepped back another step as the drug took affect. She grabbed him and headed him for the couch. "Here sit down and I will get you a glass of water. You must have drank your wine too fast."

She returned to find him passed out on the couch, just where she wanted him.

She took off his shoes and picked him up to take him to her bed. She smiled as she thought of how he would react when he woke. After she undressed him and laid him on his back, she made sure his hands and feet were securely tied before she broke the ammonia caplet under his nose.

He came too with a yell and tried to turn his face away from the smell. His eyes watered and he fought to get up. "What the hell are you doing? Let me up from here. Now!"

"My, my you sure woke up in a foul mood. Oh but I have such fun planned for you, I am sure I'll have your mood changed in no time. Isn't this what you wanted? To be naked with me, in your bed. You don't like being tied I take it? Oh but I will make it worth it trust me. I will make you feel things you never thought possible." With that she smiled and moved her hands over his face and down his chest. 

"This is not funny, I don't like being tied. Please untie me and let's begin again. I want my hands free to touch you. Let me up." She saw the fear in his eyes but he did a good job of keeping it out of his voice. He sounded very convincing. 

"All in due time, I want to enjoy you first. I want to hear you moan first." She pinched his nipples lightly between her finger and thumb. She wanted him excited, she needed him excited. She kissed his mouth and ran her tongue over his neck. He began to moan and she knew he was trying not to give in to her touch. She kissed his nipples and moved over him to straddle him as she bit down on each one and then bit harder till he cried out. "That's better, I want to hear you. I want to know that my touch excites you. What does it feel like to be totally helpless. To not be able to fight or break free? Does my touch excite you?"

"You know you are exciting me. How can it not be exciting? You're a beautiful woman and I came here to make love to you. This just isn't what I had in mind is all."

"Well I'll make sure it is a night you will not forget." She moved down his stomach and moved her thighs over his leg and squeezed so she could move her pussy over his thigh. He moaned as she did this and she reached up and took his cock in her hand and stroked it until it was rock hard. His moans grew louder as she slowly brought it to her mouth and sucked slowly until she had him completely in her mouth. She moved slowly back up and flicked her tongue over his opening and then back down. She moved her pussy over his thigh and he felt her juices slick against his skin. She knew he would cum soon and she wasn't ready for him to do that just yet so she stopped and laughed huskily at his moans of protest. "Not so soon my pet, I want this to last. I want it to be the best you ever had." She moved over him and lowered herself over his cock and it was her turn to moan as she felt him fill her with his hardness. She moved slowly at first and let herself build slowly. She squeezed him with her strong muscles but didn't allow him to cum yet. She began to move with more urgency as she felt her orgasm build. She felt herself slip over the edge and she let it take her. Her cry, one of pain as much as pleasure. The pain always there. She stopped and moved off of him and he protested again as she left him aching for his release. 

"Soon, very soon. I will release you." 

 She took him in her mouth again and he arched his hips up to meet her lips as he ached to spill his cum into her throat. She made sure she didn't go too fast or suck too hard. She felt his body tense and his moans told her it was time. She made sure she took him deep into her mouth. She sucked until he begged her to stop. She let him slip out of her mouth and then licked his stomach up over his nipples to his neck. She bit his neck and let her tongue move across his neck to his lips. 

 She looked down into his eyes and saw the raw lust there she liked to see. No more games or talk. Just lust. She bent down to kiss him and she bit his lower lip as she pulled away. He protested but she bent back down and licked the blood away with the tip of her tongue and let it slip into his mouth to quiet him. He returned her kiss with his own and she pulled away.

He wanted his hands free. She knew he hated being bound. "I want to touch you, untie me. I want to make you feel things too, this isn't very fair."

 She laughed deeply and whispered. "Patience, you'll get your turn. I want to have fun with you first and then I will allow you to touch me." She kissed him deeply again and ran her fingernails up over his outstretched arms and felt the goose bumps rise on his skin. She would enjoy this one.

 He had already become hard again by the time she moved up and straddled his chest. She placed a nipple close to his mouth but not quite close enough to suck. He licked her with his tongue and waited for her to move closer. She let him take her into his mouth and he sucked her hard nipple and then bit her hard to get her reaction. She cried out and he sucked hard again to keep it in his mouth. He wanted to control her even if only a small part of her while he was tied. She moved to the other breast and he licked all around her nipple before sucking it gently into his mouth. She moaned as he teased her and she whispered for him to suck harder. He smiled and made her wait just a few seconds before he sucked hard and brought a deeper moan from her. He bit down and pulled his mouth away to rake his teeth over her nipple and she grabbed his hair tightly as the pain excited her. 

 She liked what he was doing. She would make sure he would experience more pleasure than he ever had before she let him go. She wanted to feel his tongue on her and she moved up further to place her pussy over his mouth. As she lowered herself to feel his tongue he asked her to just free one hand. He wanted to touch her even with just one hand. She reached up and pulled on the rope that held him and it broke free from the bed. He immediately reached for her breasts and squeezed her nipples as he started to flick his tongue over her pussy. He found her very wet and he flicked his tongue over her hard clit and teased her by moving away when her moans became deeper. She knew what he was doing and she tried to keep him in one place by holding tightly to his hair but he was going to make her wait as well. She liked this one. He excited her very much, so different than the others.

 He teased her and moved over her pussy with expertise until she could no longer hold it inside and she came so hard he held her by her waist to keep her against his mouth so he could make it last for her. She came for a long time and he smiled when she finally pulled away from him and whispered 'no more...'

 He reached his hand up and touched her face. He brought her lips down to his so she could taste herself on his lips, his tongue. She licked his lips and across his chin as their kiss ended. She looked at him and he knew he had pleased her. He hoped she would now untie him and let him have more control over her, but she was not finished with him yet.

She began to lick his neck, sending chills through him. She bit him gently at first, not hurting but only playfully, but then she bit him harder and he tensed as the pain mixed with the pleasure. She didn't break his skin, not yet. There would be time for that. He grabbed her hair tightly in his fist when she bit too hard and tried to pull her head up to him but she continued down his chest, biting and pinching his skin as she went. He was so hard when she finally got down to his cock but he tensed when she took it into her hand and placed it to her lips. He didn't want her to bite, she knew he was waiting for the pain to come. She slipped her mouth over him and slowly went down until she had him fully in her mouth. The moan she heard was shortened when she brought her mouth back up with her teeth raking his sensitive skin as she came. 'Please' was all he managed and she went down again slowly. She wouldn't bit him hard, but he didn't know that. She knew the uncertainty would make him unable to cum for awhile and that was what she wanted.

 She continued this for quite some time, she had his balls in her hand, she kneaded them gently. She brought him up and out of her mouth and he reached down and touched her face with his hand. She took his fingers into her mouth and sucked on them, as she pulled them slowly out of her mouth.

She licked across his hip and ran her fingernails over his thighs and felt the muscles tense under her touch. She licked to the inside of his thigh and bit down gently. He hissed as the pain sent a shudder through him. She knew this was the most sensitive place to bite. She made sure it was not too hard. "I want to be inside you. Please untie me. I want you underneath me. Wrap your legs around me and let me completely fill you." He had her hair in his hand and she brought her face up to look at him. "Let me touch you. This is maddening not to be able to touch you."

She smiled as she made her decision to untie him. She never had untied one before until they were unconscious again, but this one she wanted to touch her. She thought for another moment, she knew the chance she was taking. She reached down and pulled the rope that held his legs and then she reached up and pulled his other arm free.

He brought his arm down slowly to let the muscles move before he reached for her. She looked at him and when their eyes met he grabbed her and turned her onto her back. He raised himself over her and pushed her legs apart with his knees. They kept eye contact as he reached down and pulled her to him by her waist. He entered her slowly at first. Inching his way inside her until he was buried deep inside her. He pulled out just as slowly and the pleasure made her close her eyes. He thrust into her quickly and she cried out from the suddenness of it. He drove into her and held her tightly to him to feel her body react to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and brought her arms up around his neck and let him take her. She buried her face in his neck and let him enjoy the sounds he brought from deep within her. She was close to her orgasm and she wanted him to join her. "Cum with me, I want you to cum with me. Please..."

 He drove into her and she felt his body fight to control his orgasm. She wanted him to join her so she let her orgasm begin and she sank her teeth into his neck. He cried out at first when her teeth broke the skin but then she felt him join her. She drank from him and allowed him to feel her pleasure and she felt his. It intensified their own to the point of it being all consuming. She had not felt such pleasure before, and she knew he had not. She drank until she dared not drink any more. She pulled away from him and she felt him relax above her. She knew he would not wake for some time so she turned him onto his back and made him comfortable. She bit her lower lip and with her tongue touched the punctures with her blood and she watched them fade. She untied the ropes from his wrist and ankles and covered him gently and let him sleep.

 She watched him sleep and wondered if she could take him back like the others and never allow him to find her again. She ran her fingers over his body and knew she would remember his touch for some time. She knew it was not safe to see him again but she wanted to feel his touch again. She knew she had to be careful and not do anything that would endanger her. She had managed to survive all these years by being very cautious. She had to take him back.



She washed him and dressed him gently. She carried him to the garage and placed him in his car and drove him back to the bar. She knew he would wake soon and wonder what on earth he had drunk to give him such a terrible hangover. He would remember the evening but think it had all been a dream, until he arrived home and found the marks from the ropes on his wrist. She felt regret as she drove away. As she looked in the rear view mirror, part of her hoped he would try to find her again. She knew he shouldn't but hoped he would just the same. 

            Jasrin



Surrender



The train ride was smooth, the carriage seeming to glide along almost soundlessly. "This is a smooth ride," he said, "Like going up in a hot air balloon. Have you done that?" he asked.

Matt grunted, glancing up from his laptop's screen, hand's poised, flickering fingers momentarily stilled before he looked back.

Outside the train window the grey day and dusky green and brown of the bush flowed past , seemingly endless.

"So?" he asked.

"Umm," was the only answer, and a hand briefly touching his knee. Reassuring physical contact. 

They passed a shallow lagoon where clumps of thin grass like reeds were standing erect in the water, reminding him of islands. Some congregated into large masses, others alone, small outposts in the still grey water. 

"So what did you think?" he persisted.

Matt looked up, a touch annoyed at being dragged away from his work. 

"It's small. Nice location, but hardly room to turn around. You know I like space and comfort."

Matt returned to his work and his lover looked out of the window again. Something catching in his throat for a moment and swallowed. He liked cool days, days like today, not hot, not cold, cool. Everything. It was the first and last time Matt went to his house.

At first he'd thought that Matt was playing with him, had little need of him. He'd suggested things they could do together and Matt would say they were on his list, but never seemed to get around to that part of his list. 

Then they would meet and he made Matt arch, writhe, moan and sigh as he made love to his still nearly perfect body. Until it was Matt's turn to devour him. In those moments Matt would be there as he never was otherwise, exploring him, making love to him. But saying occasionally, as a casual observation, things like, "It's a shame you're so small," stroking and sucking his small cock as Matt's own filled again to it's full 8 inches. 

So there were other men, and in the first heat he'd shared Matt, giving it little thought. Sucking him while some muscular well-hung man plowed Matts arse, and he moaned and gasped. "Yes more, God that's good. Turn, yes. Like that. Oh yes." And he wondered why he seemed to remain while the well-hung golden bodied men moved on in a slowly passing parade.

Matt did little to build anything between them. It was he who'd needed the daily contact and established the phone calls as a pattern Then he discovered one day that Matt had become accustomed to them like some mildly addictive drug.

He had been surprised and suddenly overcome by the discovery that he really was wanted. And he'd wondered what Matt wanted, making a great effort to discover it. But with no change in Matt's manner to him he gave up. In the end he realized that he would get what Matt gave him, and could only give what it was natural for him himself to give. 

They lay in bed one day and Matt said, "I'm getting a bigger apartment. There'll be enough room for both of us."

Matt said it looking into his eyes, but matter of factly. A statement, not an invitation.

He'd said nothing, not sure if Matt was actually asking him to move in, and stunned to blankness by the remark. 

Matt had moved in and soon after he'd asked petulantly, "When are you moving?" A forgone conclusion . Now he was being slow and inconsiderate not being there.

"I wasn't sure you were serious," he'd replied, confused, pleased, lost. 

He'd thought of one thing though. The only time he'd been there at night they had spent the night together, Matt cupped into his lap. 

"We sleep together," he'd said.

"There are two bedrooms," Matt replied, frowning. 

"If I move in we sleep in the same bed."

Matt shrugged.

He moved in, keeping his clothes in the other bedroom. Matt's own wardrobe was extensive with his clothes overflowing into the second bedroom, but Matt had cleared a couple of drawers in the chest out for him, and complained when he didn't use them. So he moved his underwear in there, into the chest in their bedroom. 

The well-hung bronzed gods continued to pass through, leaving their impression briefly in Matt's stretched and well stroked arse.

One day he came home to find one of them there again, plowing Matt as they kissed deeply and he'd gone cold seeing them. Suddenly terrified that it was over, that something he'd never known for sure he'd had was gone.

But Matt had turned his sex drugged face and signalled him over, pulling him to him and taking his mouth, moving a hand inside his pants, moaning as Jeff continued to plow him. 

Then Jeff was gone and Matt had plowed him as if he never wanted to stop, the sky beyond the glass wall turning dark with a golden moon and a million stars hanging in it like Christmas ornaments. And at some time when his lover was resting inside him, subsiding from the last fuck, Matt had whispered in his ear, "I love you."

It was almost as if Matt's words had escaped during a lapse in concentration and they rolled about, occupying his mind, until they turned into a phrase he had read once 'Life isn't coherent, and it doesn't fit into neat boxes'.

And he wondered if he had the courage to truly surrender himself to it. 

*

I owe the line 'Life isn't coherent, and it doesn't fit into neat boxes.' to Glen. Perfect inspiration.



Surrender



It was supposed to have been so easy, so safe.

We had decided that our first meeting should take place in a public café that allowed for a certain amount of privacy, but nothing too intimate. I had arrived early, seating myself to have an unobstructed view of the entrance. Thoughts passed quickly as the time of our rendezvous had drawn near. Our eyes had locked together the moment he entered the room. A shiver passed through my body as his grayish blue eyes seemed to reach into the depths of my soul.

As he seated himself across from me I could no longer withstand the effects of his gaze, and I bowed my head. The meal passed in a blur, none of our conversation remembered.

When he began to rise from his chair, one word from his deep voice pierced the fog and sealed my fate, "Come."

Unable to resist and unwilling to deny my true nature I answered in the only way I could, "Yes, Sir."

Leaving the café, he opened the passenger door to his waiting car and I slid inside. "Thank you, Sir," I whispered.

The stern timber of his voice erased all thoughts of disobedience. "Sit, do not speak again."

Sitting with my hands clasped in my lap, my head lowered so as not to offend, the journey passed quickly. He parked in front of a house completely secluded by towering oaks and escorted me inside.

We stopped before a closed door and he turned to face me. "In this room you will find your wardrobe. Pick what you consider to be the appropriate attire and present yourself to me," and he walked away, knowing that his command would be obeyed.

Upon entering the room, I found myself surrounded by rows of beautiful clothing for every possible occasion. My eyes jumped from item to item, unable to decide until a shimmer of dark cloth drew my attention. Holding it before me I knew I had found the perfect item. Made of the deepest black, with blood red trim at the neck, arms, and hem. Unhesitatingly I removed my clothes and undergarments, my body bare of all restraints. The cool air causing an immediate and pleasurable reaction, my nipples hardened. The kimono slipped easily onto my shoulders and as the silk slid across my breasts a shiver passed through my body. Vanquishing the thought of my fingers playing across my now moist tingling cunt, for I must not delay.

Following in the direction he had taken, I passed beneath an archway and was confronted by a room whose walls were draped with erotic tapestries interwoven with pictures I knew well. Scenes from the Kama Sutra surrounded me in life-size clarity. A warm flush filling my body from seeing such open sexuality. Drawing my gaze away with difficulty I began to take in the rooms furnishings. Dominating the room was the largest bed I had ever imagined. In one corner a pile of pillows and fur-lined blankets lay upon the floor. Facing this corner was an oversized leather chair, and that is where He was seated. 

Moving forward and stopping beside the chair, my body tensing, my eyes begging for approval. As he turned to look at me I involuntarily stepped backwards. His eyes and smile revealing pure wanton animal lust! Quick as the strike of a cobra his fingers had grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards him and downwards. His grip drawing me to my knees between his legs, my head level with his chest.

Releasing my arm, his hand cupped beneath my chin and raised my head to meet his eyes. "You will remain kneeling on the cushions until you decide the direction of your collaring."

With that statement he rose and pushed back the chair, revealing two objects lying on the floor. The first was a long downy feather. I flinched as my attention focused on the second item, a riding crop. It was to be my choice; pleasure or pain, gentle or harsh.

My mind racing, I had not noticed my wrap had fallen open until a cool breeze fluttered across my bare skin. Afraid of offending, I left myself exposed to his view. Keeping my head lowered but raising my eyes, I was confronted with his reaction to my nudity. The distinct outline of his bulging cock through his pants filled my vision. As my pussy began to moisten, I wondered how long I would have to wait before he allowed me to feast upon the object I craved.

Sometime during the night I slept, my dreams seeming so real. The feel of firm strong hands massaging my flesh. Working my shoulders then skimming lightly over my breasts, barely touching my distended nipples. Flowing lower, across my belly and down my legs. Feeling pressure as the fingertips move to my inner thigh and spread me open. My hips pressing forward as a sweet caress glides over the swollen lips of my hungry pussy. The light pressure forcing a drop of sexual dew to moisten my crack and lubricate the imaginary fingers.

Quivering with desire, my body warming as if the sun......I awoke with a start, sunlight splashing across my naked body. My eyes focusing on a note beside the cushions telling me to bathe and dress myself, that he would return soon for my decision. Beside the note lay a surprise that brought my dream vividly to life. My shock turning to pleasure as I stared at the picture of Him kneeling beside my outstretched body, his fingers wet from my juices!

Waiting for his return had seemed like a lifetime, but finally the sound of his steps caused my body to react instantly to the thoughts of what my future held. Kneeling before the chair, hands clasped behind my back, eyes lowered in respect and fear. I dared not glance up at his approach and so I flinched when my hair was grasped from the back. The strength of his grip forcing my head back, my eyes forced to meet his. My body quivering as his free hand slid lightly across my exposed throat and ever downwards.

I had chosen the only attire that would show my willingness to succumb to his will, my complete nudity revealing my desire to give myself fully. 

His hand settled on my breast. Taking my erect nipple between finger and thumb he began to stroke it with increasing pressure. Knowing that my silence was expected, I could not contain the moan that escaped my lips as the pleasure/pain flowed through my body. Never had I responded so quickly to a simple gesture.

As my body was arched backward by the force of his grip my hips unwillingly thrust forward, revealing to his eyes the desire of my body. From the moment of his first caress moisture had begun to glisten the outer lips of my swollen pussy. With each painful squeeze of my nipple a shock of pure ecstasy flowed between my legs.

Never releasing me, he moved around to stand in front of me. I felt his foot slide between my legs forcing me to spread them open. The first shameful tear flowed down my cheek as his boot pressed against my crotch and I was unable to stop from grinding my clit against his touch.

Releasing me and stepping back, he sat down in his chair. His eyes never leaving my arched body and obvious desire. Even as I was thinking how easily I had given myself, I was unable to stop from lowering my head and pressing my lips to his booted feet. 

Slowly he raised my head and I found myself looking at what was to be my only clothing. Hanging from his hand was the collar that would bind me! There would be no choices in this decision, as he reached forward and claimed what belonged to Him.

My eyes drifted downwards as his hands moved to his lap and opened his pants. My tongue wetting my lips as his engorged cock pulsed before me. His hand encircling the shaft, he stroked upward and squeezed, forcing a drop of cum onto the tip. Insolent as it was, I could wait no longer and my mouth closed around the head, tasting his cum and the sweetness of his shaft as it slid into my mouth. My hand replaced his as I began to stroke with the same rhythm of my mouth. Nothing else mattered in the world as my mouth hungrily devoured this gift. I could feel his cock pulsating in my mouth as the first of his cum shot against my throat. Swallowing wad after wad, I could not capture it all and his cum soaked my lips and hand as it ran from my mouth. Unwilling to loose any of His seed I began lapping at his still hardened shaft, cleaning him from the tip to his balls.

My head lay in his lap. My fingers fondling his balls while my tongue playfully flicked across the head of his hard cock. The pressure of his hand massaging my back sending shivers throughout my drenched pussy. He had allowed me no release from the pressure building inside me. My clit remained distended and swollen with desire. Every whisper of air or the slightest movement of my body caused my pussy to clinch down, begging to be used.

I had spent the hours waiting for his return thinking about the choice that was given me and how I would answer. There was truly only one direction and it was made for me by His voice, "You are mine, little one, and your choice is the whip."

A wave of convulsions shook my body as my pussy juices flowed down my legs from the orgasm caused by nothing but words. My thighs trembling from the release, I broke my silence for perhaps the last time. "Yes, Master... I am yours."

While my head still lay in his lap, my Lord fastened a leash to my collar. Rising to his feet he pulled me up and walked me down the hallway to my wardrobe. "Time for you to be displayed," as he passed clothes of his choosing into my arms. 

Standing me before a mirror, he showed me the undergarment I would be wearing. It appeared to be a strap-on dildo, but I quickly learned how mistaken I was. As he fastened the strap around my hips I felt something press against the tender lips of my pussy. Without pause, he slid six inches of thick pleasure deep inside me and fastened the thong strap between my ass cheeks and to the back of the waistband. The rest of my attire consisted of a black leather skirt so short that the curve of my ass remained visible and a top so sparse that I feared my erect nipples would tear the fabric.

The slightest movement caused the dildo inside me to shift, guaranteeing that my sexual tension would not only remain but also build throughout the evening.

He drove us to a restaurant where we were escorted to a private dining room. Eleven men and two empty chairs were arranged around a single table. A flush rose in my cheeks as I realized that every man present had turned to witness our arrival. As my Master helped me to my seat the pressure of my weight drove the dildo deep inside me, causing a low throaty gasp to escape my lips. Leaning over to kiss my cheek he whispered, "Don't fret, little one, they do not know what you are."

Throughout the meal he would occasionally reach between my thighs and press my crotch. I could not help but lean against his shoulder as each touch renewed the flow of my juices. I felt sure that soon the smell of my lust would fill the room.

Gratefully, we departed right after the meal and I soon found myself back inside his domain. He wasted no time in stripping me of my clothes and as he slowly removed the dildo my knees buckled under the pleasure of yet another orgasm. He allowed me no time to recover as he guided me to the door of the room and my eyes fell upon something that had been placed inside.

Before me sat a long hinged table, open cuffs dangling from the four corners. As we drew nearer I noticed that the top had been drilled with numerous holes. He ordered me onto the table on my hands and knees, quickly spreading my arms and fastening the cuffs to my wrists. The strap holding the cuffs seemed unnecessarily long and I wandered why such mobility was allowed. Quickly enough I learned the reason.

While the straps had distracted me another dildo had been mounted in one of the tables holes. Grabbing my hips, my Master pulled me towards him so that the phallus barely pierced my pussy. Fear gripped me as I noticed the length was far more than I could ever engulf.

Without pause he began to turn a handle and the table began to tilt. As the incline increased my body began to slide down the smooth surface and impale me on the massive dildo. Just as I felt I could hold no more, the cuffs on my wrists tightened and stopped my slide. Each ankle was then strapped into the bottom cuffs.

"It's time for your choice," and before I could comment I heard the strap whistle through the air and felt the sting of leather as it slashed across my thighs! 



Surrender



She was Daddy's girl, through and through, and she had him wrapped around her finger just as much as she was around his.

The call from the school came early afternoon. He always took Friday afternoons off, worked from home, so that when she came home they could hang out together. Sometimes it was homemade pizza and a ballgame on TV, sometimes it was take-out Chinese and board games, in warm weather they would fire up the grill outside and eat on the patio, then splash in the pool until the sun set. 

She never failed to delight him, his daughter. She was beautiful- although he would admit that he was biased a bit. Kind of a girl-next-door look, the every-woman, and when she had fully matured...not cute, not beautiful... 'arresting' was the word he would go for. Her mouth was a little too wide, her lips a little too full. Her eyes were not that wide-eyed innocence that attracted many, but they twinkled when she laughed and were often full of mischief. Her nose was perfectly straight and even, dusted with golden freckles. Round cheeks, gently curved chin, red-gold hair that was a mass of curls around her shoulders. She had a great sense of humor and a quick wit, she was intelligent and engaging. She was mature for her age- people always mistook her for a senior in college rather than high school. He himself often forgot that she was still just a teenager....which was part of the reason the phone call from the school had surprised him so.

He sat in his chair in his home office, his palms resting lightly on his knees, his head bent as he debated his next course of action. He could ground her, take away her phone and TV privileges, restrict her from the computer. Any number of scenarios popped into his head, but he couldn't decide on any of them- he thought it best to find out her motivation for her behavior first. 

Idly he scrubbed his hand along his jaw. He knew he had become too lenient with her, he knew their relationship was no longer father-daughter in the strictest sense. And he couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened. Lord knew she had tested him in her early teen years. Small rebellions compared to some of the stories he had heard, and he counted himself among the lucky ones. Still, he had ruled with a firm hand when she had toed the line. Oh, he had stopped spanking her about the time she had turned 12...about the time when the privilege of talking to her friends on the phone had become a moral imperative, and the loss of such was apparently a fate worse than death. That had worked for a while. Then grounding her to the house had worked for a year or two, until the thrill of driving privileges was what had kept her from toeing the line too much. Then she had just...settled. Matured a little, he supposed. They rarely had any of the heated arguments she used to provoke him into, he mused. Hell, had it really been a year and a half since that last big fight? Yep, that's when things had really started to change. That big blow out 18 months before about how he had been working so late every evening, weekends too. He had missed almost every volleyball game, her band concert, AND the spring musical. Well, he wasn't really that sorry to have missed the last two, he grinned. But still, it had been so important to her, and he had let her down so many times. She had basically been living by herself all day, every day. Getting herself to school, to work, to the games, to rehearsals, eating alone, falling asleep in an empty house night after night.

She had even taken over the damn grocery shopping and bill paying, keeping up the laundry and cleaning the house. It was no damn wonder she had been desperate to get out, to get some sort of attention. And in had swooped some jerk-off college kid to flirt with her and make her feel good, then left her standing alone one night in the cold with no jacket, no ride, no idea where in the hell she was in some hick-town 45 minutes away. The messages on his voice mail when he had finally checked them at 11:30 that night had scared the shit out of him- he had assumed she was in bed sleeping...the ride to get her had been the longest ride of his life, and the ride home the hardest. She had been so mad, so scared, so upset....and so had he. But now they had a routine that worked, and probably a little too well. She still spent time with her friends, was still active in the extra curriculars at school but...

He stood and headed for the kitchen, for something cool to drink. They were a good team, he mused, taking a glass down from the cabinet. They shared the responsibilities of the house, the chores. They laughed together, argued together, cooked together, folded laundry together. It was natural for her to curl up against him in the oversized recliner, or for him to stretch out and lay his head in her lap while they watched TV. He kissed her in the morning when he went to work, she kissed his cheek at night when she went to bed. Almost like a married couple, only without the sex. 

He choked, nearly spit out his tea when that thought crossed his mind. Jesus, when had he become a perv? He grabbed a paper towel and wiped off his chin, the counter where the tea had sloshed. Okay, so he was a man, he thought. And didn't men supposedly think about sex like 3 times a minute or something? He cleared his throat uncomfortably, his face warming slightly. He took another drink, then set the glass down with a purpose when his hand trembled slightly. Okay, okay. Stop and think about this. Analyze. Why does it make you uncomfortable-the thought of sex with her? Because it's my daughter! Yeah, but she's a woman. And you like women. Their scent, their hair. Their smaller hands, their delicate skin. My daughter! A woman. With curved hips that move just right, with breasts the perfect size, with long legs and soft belly and rounded butt and shit, SHIT.

He dropped heavily into a chair at the table, his head in his hands. What the hell was wrong with him? He had to reach down and readjust himself slightly, his slacks suddenly tight across the fly. He forced a breath out, inhaled deeply, tried to slow his thoughts just a little. Analyze, analyze. Why are you aroused? Sex. Sex with who? Sex with my daughter. He gave up and lowered his head to the table with a thunk. SHIT! 

The thrill of the thought was undeniable. His arousal was undeniable. He forced himself to think about sex with another girl, any girl. Her friends, younger girls. He even went to the computer, searched for images. Daddy's girl, slutty babysitter, naughty young coeds, teen sex, anything he could think of. Okay, sigh of relief, it wasn't the idea of random young girls of any particular age. He erased the search string, cleared the browser history, and tipped back in the office chair, spun slightly to the left to look out the window, letting his mind just flow. Okay, so yeah, he was attracted to his girl. And he could admit, in hindsight, that they had a flirtation together. He didn't for a second believe that she was actively lusting after him, any more than he had been actively lusting after her. But was it there? In the back of her head, too, were the same thoughts there? It was way more than lust, that he could say definitively. Was she nearly in love with him, the grown-up man/woman love like he figured he was with her? He'd been around the block a time or two, and could honestly answer himself that judging by her clues, her responses to him, they way they talked and laughed and shared their time and looked at each other....

He scrubbed his hands over his face, then opened his mind and let the thoughts flow. Images poured into him- her laughing up at him, eyes twinkling; the way her lips pursed when she pressed her sweet kisses to his cheek. The way her arms wrapped around him, the way her body curved just right against his when they sat in the recliner together. The way her t-shirts shifted over her chest, the way her shorts curved so sweetly over her rear. The way her lips would look, swollen and damp from his kisses, the way her eyes would cloud when he stroked his hands over her. The way her head would tip back and her eyes close and her body arch up when he levered over her, the way her thighs would part for him, giving him access....

The sound of the key turning in the lock, the door knob rattling slightly made him jump guiltily. He spun back to the desk, grabbed a random file and threw it open on the keyboard in front of him, fumbled a pen into his hand. He was aching, hard, his face flushed, his heart pounding. He kept his head down, his eyes closing briefly. He opened them in time to see her waltz through the door, her backpack hooked casually over one shoulder, her ipod clearly blasting in her ears. She glanced through the doorway at him, smiled and sort of half-waved, then turned and kicked off her shoes near the door, slung her back pack next to them. Her shirt was slightly wrinkled, her hair untidy. And it was the wispy strands working their way out of the pony tail, the drooping hair band in the back that did it. He slammed his chair back from the desk, followed her down the hall to the kitchen. He was mad. No, he was furious. How dare she? He couldn't believe the audacity of her actions. After everything that had happened, after the way she had filled his thoughts this afternoon, and she had behaved that way at school?

He stopped outside the kitchen doorway, forced himself to take a deep breath. He was being irrational, he felt irrational as hell. He had to get himself under control.

A movement just outside the kitchen startled her. She twisted her head, then took a deep breath. Just Dad, she laughed at herself. But she sobered instantly. He knew. She could see it on his face. A hard ball of despair curled in her stomach, and her shoulders suddenly felt heavy. She slowly put back the apple she was holding back into the silver bowl on the counter, then turned to face him. Might as well get it over with. 

Now he stood fully in the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, his legs planted. Crap, he looked really mad. She felt her heart kick up a notch, couldn't control the slight tremor that shook her hands. She met his gaze once, then looked at the floor. Her arms felt awkward, so she tucked her hands into the small of her back and waited. She felt her face heat up as the silence stretched on interminably.

"You want to tell me about it?" His voice was rough, huskier than usual, and tight. She felt the tears prick at the back of her eyelids, but she blinked them away. Her throat already started to burn, and she had to swallow a few times to talk around the lump that had lodged there.

"Remember that guy who keeps bothering me? Making fun of me, calling me names and stuff? He started in again. And it was really getting to me. And you know how you said I should just ignore him, and prove him wrong when the time was right? I thought it was the right time." She shrugged one shoulder, her chin still lowered. 

Her dad was quiet, waiting. She knew he wanted her to continue and she really didn't want to. Her face heated up even more, and she squirmed uncomfortably, her school uniform now hot and itchy. She shifted a little.

"He kept calling me a chicken shit, and saying that I was too much of a goody-goody to do anything daring. And I got really mad. I know I should have ignored him, but I was just so sick of it, Dad. And I told him that I wasn't a goody-goody or a chicken shit, and he dared me to prove it. So...I did." She screwed her eyes up tight, that falling, sinking feeling filling her belly. She knew he was going to be disappointed. That he already was, and there was nothing she dreaded more than disappointing him.

"Tell me, please." 

She snuck a peek at him, then closed her eyes tightly again. "He dared me to not wear anything under my school uniform the rest of the day. So I went into the bathroom after 3rd period and took off my bra and panties. Then at lunch, even though I showed them to him in my backpack, he wanted proof. So.." She had to take a deep breath, brace herself, and everything came out in a rush. "We went down to the dugouts where all the kids hide to smoke during lunch, and I wasn't going to show him, but he had to have proof, so first I let him look down my shirt just enough to see that I wasn't wearing a bra, and then he was going to reach under my skirt and he had just started to when the security officer came down to bust the smokers. And so we got into trouble." Her face was flaming now, the heat probably readable on every freaking satellite image in space. At least it was out now, and he would probably punish her. She figured at least losing the cell phone, probably grounded too. And all because of some idiot jock with fewer brain cells than a rock wanted to cop a feel. She knew that now, but at the time, she had so just wanted to shut him up and prove him wrong. 

She clasped her hands in front of her now, rocked back on her heels slightly, and looked up at her dad. He was just staring at her, with the oddest expression on his face. She licked her lips nervously. "I wasn't trying to do anything...bad. I just wanted to get him off my case. I know I shouldn't have." She looked at his face again, still in that odd, unreadable expression. "I really am sorry, Dad", she said quietly.

"How much of you did he see? Down your shirt?"

She shrugged. ":Not too much. I just unbuttoned it enough, leaned over."

"Show me."

Her eyes grew round and she gawked at her dad. She couldn't help but shrink back slightly against the counter when he moved a few steps closer. Her heart tripped, then sped up until it was racing. 

His voice sounded kinda thick, and almost rough, like he had a cold or something. "I need you to show me- I have to know so that I understand exactly what happened. Show me exactly what you showed him."

She couldn't believe what he was asking. Was he serious?

One look at his face assured him that he was dead serious. Oh God, oh God. Was she really going to let her dad look down her shirt?

He said her name quietly, just once. And she knew that tone of voice.

If she thought her heart was beating fast before, she was wrong. It pounded furiously now as she tried to get her fumbling fingers to work the buttons on her shirt. Her stomach twisted a little bit as she undid the second button, then the third, and finally the fourth. She pulled the sides of her blouse open a little, so the bra she had put back on after being in the principal's office was showing. She pulled the heavier material of the jumper forward away from her body, bent forward at the waist just enough, like she had for that jerk in the dugout- but she didn't remember her nipples being this hard, almost aching, or her breasts feeling so heavy. She could feel his gaze on her, without looking at him knew his eyes were watching her face, then looking down her shirt. She hesitated just a moment, then lifted her upper body straight again. Her fingers toyed with her open buttons, but when that drew his eyes again she dropped her hands, clenching and unclenching them in the material of her jumper. Seriously, did her dad just look down her shirt? And seriously, why was she feeling all shivery now? God, she was so twitchy, she couldn't force her body to stay still. Her chest was tight, she felt like she was breathing syrup. 

"Where were his hands?"

She almost moaned. She didn't know that she had been waiting so tensely for him to ask until the shiver of...was it relief?...passed through her. She felt so out of sorts, and she just couldn't get her mind to think clearly. She swallowed thickly, lowered her gaze to the floor, her face heating. "Um. He was sitting down, on the bench in the dugout..." and before she had finished, her dad was dragging the kitchen chair back from the table and sitting in it, leaning forward slightly. Unthinkingly she stepped closer, until she was just to the left of his knees, so close she could feel the heat from him. Her voice cracked, just a little, when she continued "his hand was, um, on my right leg."

She jumped when her dad's hand, large and hard and so hot, cupped her thigh just above her kneecap. 

"Here?"

She shook her head, but his head was bent, his gaze cast downward. "No. It was...higher."

His hand slid up another 4 inches, disappeared from her view under the hem of her skirt. His finger tips brushed over the skin of her left inner thigh, making her swallow hard. She felt his fingers flex on her skin once, then they were still. Her body was thrumming now, she could feel herself getting damp between her legs, and she felt like everything was surreal. She had never felt this way, not even when she and her ex-boyfriend had done it those few times. 

"Higher still?"

She hesitated, wondered if she should tell the truth, wondering how far things would go if she lied. Her mind raced over the options, and she made her decision. Her own voice was husky as she replied "Yes. And...further in between..."

His head turned then, met hers. He knew. She knew in an instant that he knew she was lying. His eyes were hot, so dark and hot looking up at her, but he didn't call her bluff. Instead he hand slid further between her legs, then glided upward, so high that if he moved his thumb even the slightest bit it would brush against her panties. She gasped, shocked at the fact that his had was...there, shocked at the way her thighs tightened briefly around his hand, the way her knees threatened to buckle just to have the pressure of his touch right where she needed it most. Her inner muscles clenched once, then again, and the slight smile at the corner of his mouth told her he knew what her reaction was. He dragged his hand out from between her legs, sat up in the chair, braced his hands on his upper thighs. She couldn't help but look at how the front of his pants was distended, leaving no doubt that he was excited too. She looked away, embarrassed, but back again before she was able to drag her gaze to his face.

His hand reached out and squeezed hers once, then just held it.

"I am disappointed in you, baby girl. But I also know why you did what you did. And you know that your actions have consequences." 

She nodded, and her stomach pitched slightly. She could tell by the look on his face that he was not talking about losing the cellphone or being grounded. Now his thumb was stroking over the back of her hand in a light caress that sent her pulse all jittery. This wasn't what she expected at all. Everything was so different- her dad's attitude, his expression, his voice, his actions. It was almost, almost, like he was reading her deepest thoughts. The way he was touching her, the way he was looking at her...like a man looked at a woman. If she was being truly honest with herself, the way she wanted him to look at her.

She had figured it would pass, this crush she had on him. No, more than a crush. She knew that most girls went through a stage where they crushed on their dad. She had read about it in her psychology classes, had done some reading on the internet, even. Dads were safe, strong, supportive, comforting, loving, and it was a natural thing. But her feelings had grown more, expanded. Even though she had dated a few guys, had even gone all the way once or twice, no one had measured up to the standard she had. No one came close to the relationship she had with her dad. And okay, so she had imagined some things. Fantasized a little about him holding her, kissing her. So what? It wasn't like it was illegal. And so she had pretended that they lived together, not father and daughter, but man and women. Kind of like playing house. Who cared? It was all in her head, anyway. 

She involuntarily glanced down at his hand linked with hers, his thumb caressing her skin, then the definite arousal behind his fly. Um...maybe it wasn't all in her head, after all.....




Surrender



God, if she looked at his crotch like that one more time he was going to explode right where he sat. He was aching already...looking down her blouse, seeing just enough of her skin, the swell of her breasts, and then having his hand between her thighs, feeling her muscles tighten in reaction, and then seeing her face...he took a deep breath, tried to calm himself a little. Looked like they both knew where this was going, and neither of them objected. Quite the opposite, in fact. But damned if he was going to rush anything, and there was still her punishment to deal with. 

He stood carefully, pushed the chair into the kitchen table, and faced her, releasing her hand. Her eyes were surprised, and still slightly clouded at the edges. He could tell that she was wary, concerned and confused by everything. He stroked a finger along her cheek gently, chucked her under the chin as was his usual habit. Her smile made his heart warm. "Get yourself a glass of water, and bring it into the living room." He dropped his hand, turned, and headed down the hall into the living room. He crossed the thick, soft rug silently, tugged the blinds closed so the room was dim, and settled into the oversized recliner as she stepped into the room. She was so hesitant now, almost shy. He beckoned her, instructed her to put the glass on the small end table near the recliner and then move the table back out of the way a few feet, and to stand at his right side. 

Her eyes were dark in the dim room, and focused on his face. He could almost feel the conflicting emotions running through her. "Remember when you were little, you would get spanked for misbehaving?" Her silent nod spoke volumes to him. "It's been quite a while, but I think you remember what to do."

She stood motionless for a long minute, then fidgeted slightly. His heart was pounding in his chest, and the way the light fell on her profile he could see the pulse hammering at his throat, and knew she could feel the tension rise in the room like he did. She shifted slightly, the material of her jumper rustling roughly as she lowered her center of gravity, leaned over his lap, lowered herself on him. Her faint vanilla scent filled his nose, her warm body filled his lap. He instantly hardened to the point of pain, and he gasped slightly. He nearly groaned when she wiggled, and he had to scoop his hands under her thighs, just below her ribs to help her find the right positioning.

Her pelvis was aligned directly over his, her legs extended over the arm of the chair on his right. Her upper body hung off to the left, a glance told him her fingers were braced against the floor. Her butt was right there in front of him, covered by the plaid of her jumper, and he felt like a kid at Christmas unwrapping a present. He brought his palm down to rest lightly on the back of her upper thigh, felt her jump, heard her soft sound of surprise. He stroked his palm lightly down her leg, over her calf, and then up the other leg, and smiled when her thighs clenched. He looked down the long length of her legs, taking in every detail of smooth freckled skin stretched over softly toned muscles. The arch of her foot in her cotton socks, the pale ovals of the backs of her knees. His mouth was almost watering as he slid his hand upward over the curve of her buttocks, sweeping the material of the uniform jumper upwards over the small of her back. Her panties were blue, a pale robin's-egg blue, edged in white. They covered her fully, low on her thigh and high at her waist and were the sexiest damn thing he had ever seen in his life. His fingertips traced the skin just above the white elastic band at her waist, then trailed down the seam on her hip to the edge, and traced over her thigh to just under the curve of her buttocks, back up over the other thigh. She shivered lightly, her skin prickled at his touch. Her hips flexed once, and he could tell when she was surprised when she met the resistance of his arousal. He placed his had flat over her ass and pressed downward so that she would do it again....the sweet pressure, the warmth of her skin through her panties, her slight moan had him flexing his own hips upwards slightly, rocking up against her in a steady, nearly frantic rhythm. His head dropped back against the recliner and his eyes closed, and it took all he had to stop thrusting up to her. He raised his hand and brought it back down in a light swat, then lifted his head, opened his eyes.

She wanted to moan in frustration when he stopped rocking against her. It had felt so good, having that sweet pressure right where she was aching. The light spank he gave her had sent chills up her spine. She felt so vulnerable like this, her butt in the air and hanging over the side of the chair. She wasn't the most comfortable, but she sure as heck wasn't going to complain. Goosebumps raced up and down her body each time he stroked his fingers so lightly like that over her. Now it was slow strokes over each buttock, and down in between them. She had to bite her tongue, force herself to keep quiet, to keep the soft sounds building in her from escaping. Her breasts were heavy and aching, her nipples kept tightening up, sending a prickle of sensation down in between her legs. She knew she was going to be very wet later, she could feel the way her body was clenching and unclenching now.

Her mind was racing, wondering, anticipating, and at the same time she felt foggy-headed. She ached and her skin felt too small and she was hot and had chills and was nearly panting. Oh, oh, his hands, Daddy's hands. Now they were curling in the waistband of her panties, pulling them down over her butt, leaving them caught at her upper thighs. The air was cool on her skin, and she was so very exposed. She could feel his eyes on her as if he was touching her. She squirmed, then cried out when the slap of his hand stung her skin. Not hard, not painful, just surprising to her. The tears that had pricked at her eyes earlier were back, almost out of humiliation. Here she was, bare-assed on her dad's lap while he spanked her...and she was getting so turned on. What was wrong with her? The second slap was sharper, stung more. But now his hand was caressing her, rubbing lightly over her warm buttocks. It felt so good, those wide-palmed strokes. Soothing, exciting. The third slap was gentler, with his hand coming back to circle lightly, pressing down. Her hips eagerly flexed against him, finding that hard jut of him and rocking. Moans escaped her, soft whimpers and whispers of sound. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut, and she was just lost to everything but her dad under her, around her, touching her. She lost count of the spanks, lost track of time, lost herself.

His hand was stinging, and both of her cheeks were pink and hot to the touch, marred with overlapping fingerprints despite his efforts at being gentle. She was wriggling on him, moaning, whimpering, pressing herself into him, against him, up against his hand. He knew she was wet- there was no doubting that particular scent, released with all her movements. He had avoided sliding his fingers between her thighs. It would be easy, too easy, and he knew he would lose control way too fast. So he forced himself to just stroke her upper back through her jumper, the other hand resting just above the crook of her knee. Her frantic movements slowed, then stilled, and she fell silent, finally lying limply over him. Purposely blanking his mind, he sat quietly, letting his own body slow down. He carefully pulled her panties back up over her bottom, smoothed her jumper back into place, his fingers then moving to the side to undo the button and zipper for her. "Stand up, baby, and take your jumper and your socks off."

She awkwardly maneuvered herself off his lap and into a standing position, and tugged her jumper off. Her movements were jerky, her face was flushed and damp, tiny wisps of her reddish-gold hair clung to her neck and forehead. She laid the jumper next to the chair, stopped and peeled her socks off one by one and laid them next to it. Her blouse was still unbuttoned, the peach color of her bra barely visible under the shirt, but was showcased in the gaping sides of the blouse. He shifted his body to the right side of the chair, then tugged her down on to his lap again, splaying his thighs so she could settle against him. He reclined the footrest, tipped the top of the chair back so that it stretched out even more, and she was cradled against his chest tenderly. He slid his arm under her thighs and angled her legs so they draped half over his left leg and half over the left arm of the chair, the difference in height making her knees splay slightly. Her bottom, still warm from his ministrations, was tucked firmly against him, and he felt himself twitch against her, growing hard again- not that he had fully lost his erection. He gently tucked her head against his shoulder, pressed a soft kiss to her hair. He felt the sob rise in her, but she only took a long shuddering breath and sighed. "Okay, sweetheart?" Her head rubbed against his cheek as she nodded. He felt her give back into him, degree by degree. He carefully eased the hair band from her hair and dropped it down on to the jumper, then massaged his fingers over her scalp and sifted them through her hair, spreading out the silky curls. She sighed sweetly and relaxed against him more fully. Her face nuzzled into his neck, her arms looped around his shoulders. 

"I am sorry Daddy," she whispered. He started- she hadn't called him Daddy in a long time. 

He patted her back gently. "I know, baby girl. I know you are. And you know I love you." The words hung there, almost like a question, heavy and weighted. 

Her arms tightened involuntarily around his neck, the soft catch in her breathing sounded in his ear. Her voice was just breathless enough. "I love you, Dad." And it was the way she said it--any doubt and hesitation fell away. His hand slid along her leg until it rested on her upper thigh, squeezed lightly once. 

His hands came to her blouse, undoing the last 2 buttons, but leaving it hanging open. He unhooked her bra, his knuckles brushing the soft skin of her chest and stomach as he worked the closure, and as it fell open he gave thanks to the inventor of the front-clasp. Her head lifted now, her eyes tightly shut and her lips parted as she breathed shallowly. He eased the soft cups away from her breasts, tucked them back under her arms, his hands brushing over her soft, creamy pale skin as he did so. When the side of his palm slid over her nipple she moaned. When his fingers accidentally brushed over her nipple again as he withdrew his hand, and found it tight and hard, he groaned. His palm slid over her, cupped first one breast and then the other inside her shirt. They were small, but filled his hand perfectly. Soft, petal smooth skin, weighted and full, with the areola raised and bumpy, the nipple budded tight. Her head dropped back as he kneaded her flesh gently, her hair spilling back over the arm he had banded around her. His hand moved and cupped the other breast, and her hips bucked. The soft sound that she emitted was almost a growl, low and purring. He let his fingertips trace around her nipple, teasing, plucking gently until her back was arched, trying to fill his palm again. He appeased her, and himself, cupping, kneading, molding and squeezing lightly, driving them both crazy. 

He looked down at his daughter in his arms. Her full lower lip was caught between her teeth, her cheeks were rosy even in the dim light. With her back arched, her shirt slipped just enough that the curves of her breasts could be seen. In the dim light he could just barely make out where freckled, golden skin blurred into creamy unmarked skin on her chest, on her thighs. The pale blue of her panties stood out against her skin, and his hand itched to explore her. He trailed his fingers down from her breasts, stroking over the smooth, soft skin of her stomach, pressing a smiling kiss to her hair when her stomach muscles jumped under his touch. His fingers glided just over the rounded smooth curve of her belly, down over her hips. He changed the angle of his hand, applied a bit more pressure, and slid his fingers down between her legs. He murmured softly to her, soothing when she cried out with pleasure, gentling the pressure to the faintest touch and slowly began teasingly stroking her through the blue cotton. He could feel the soft texture of the hair under the cotton, the damp center of the crotch growing damper with every pass of his fingertips. As his fingers stroked, long sweeping, sure, light touches, her shifted so that her legs splayed a little more, opening to his touch. Her bottom settled even more intimately against him, and he moved his arm so that she was reclining even further. 

Her hands curled into her Dad's shirt, vaguely aware of the smooth polished fabric, totally aware of the warmth underneath, his heartbeat pounding beneath her hands. Her head turned away from him, then back, the sweetest aching pressure building in her hips. She could hear his breathing, and her own near panting. Her nipples, God, they throbbed. She wanted his hands to stop tormenting her, she wanted him to never stop. She wanted more, and less. She was so hot, she had chills. He was going to make her fly apart, she just knew it, and she also knew that it was going to be better than anything she had ever been able to bring to herself.

He kept changing the rhythm, the pressure, the direction of his touch. She wanted to yell at him, she wanted to cry out, she needed so much, but she couldn't form the words, much less get her vocal chords to work. That ache was so intense now, she was so sure that she was there, and then he would tease her again. Her eyelids were so heavy that she could barely raise them to look at her Dad's face. His eyes were on her, sweeping up and down over her body, her face. His features looked hard in the dim light, and his slight smile was tight. His mouth brushed her forehead in a light kiss. 

"Watch," he whispered. 

She looked down at her body, where his fingers were rubbing over her. It excited her, seeing her dad's hands on her like that. His hand raised and brushed her nipples, circled them with his finger. He cupped her breasts in turn again, squeezing gently, before sliding his hand back down and tugging on her panties. She raised her hips so that he could work them down to her thighs. He left them wrapped just above her knees, then dove his hand back to her. She watched as his fingers cupped her, possessed her. His hand slid up and down over her, dragging all her wetness. He applied the slightest bit more pressure and she moaned. It felt good, so good, and she needed so much more....When his finger slid against her, found her clit and circled it, she cried out. Her eyes slammed shut as sensations poured through her. Heat burned through her body even as the blood all pooled in her hips. She ached, oh God, how she ached. Her breasts were so heavy, her nipples tight and hard and aching and begging for her dad's touch so that each shift of the white blouse against them was torture. His finger relentlessly circled, tapped, swirled, flicked, slid over her. Tension, tight and sweet, banded her. Prickles of sensation started in the soles of her feet, built, made her thigh muscles shake and quiver. Her back arched against the arm her had around her. Her face turned away, then back into her dad's chest. Her hands gripped, clenched, squeezed his shoulders, his arms. Noises came from her, incoherent and pleading, moaning and gasping and crying out. 

He kept her just there, hovering on the edge, balanced between pain and pleasure, reason and insanity. He slowed his touch, changed the pressure, made her whimper, then sob in distress as the pressure of her orgasm backed off. She wanted his hands on her, in her, everywhere. When he removed his hand from between her thighs she wanted to cry. She felt him tug on the panties, pull them off her legs, she felt his hands brushing her shirt off of her shoulders, peeling the bra off as well. She kept her face against his neck, her body still pulsing. His hand cupped her chin, lifted it. His lips, firm and warm brushed over her forehead, her eyelids, each cheek in turn. Then her own lips....he rubbed his against hers, once, twice, then a third, each time lingering a little more. Her paused, angled his head slightly, then parted his lips, and hers opened to him. His tongue slid in, hot and moist and probing, meeting hers, tangling. She groaned against his mouth as he took the kiss deeper, hotter, taking her under. She couldn't think, couldn't even breathe, could only feel that arrow of heat that shot through her. 

Her world spun off kilter when she felt him move, she didn't care, as long as he kept kissing her.... and then she was on the floor, laid out gently on the thick rug. He kissed her again, hard and fast and deep before he sat beside her, his eyes locked on hers, his hands pulling on his clothes. The rug under her was faintly scratchy, the air around her cool on her naked body. She felt no shame, no embarrassment when her dad looked at her. His eyes were so hot and dark, and she could see the slight tremor in his hands as he yanked his belt off, tossing it to the side with his shirt. He knelt, undoing his pants, lowering the zipper, shoving them and his boxer-briefs off with one quick movement. She could see him, hard and thick and bobbing at attention. The thought crossed her mind that she wanted to taste him, wanted to touch him. She reached out, but he moved over her too quickly. He knelt between her thighs, looking down at her.

His daughter was so amazingly beautiful, so responsive to his touch. Even now she was wiggling under him, her thighs opening to accommodate his hips. He watched her eyes cloud as his hard cock fell against her. He angled his hips so that he could rock lightly, rubbing against her, teasing them both. God, she was so damn wet, so ready for him. Her head tipped back on the rug, her hands sliding up over his arms and shoulders, down over his chest. He looked down at her hands on him, small and pale and pink against his tanned skin, and he felt himself throb even thicker. Her hips were arching off the floor to meet his now, and he had to concentrate to keep from sliding in her, sliding home. 

Her nipples were hard, standing at attention, begging. He bent his head, took one in his mouth, suckled sweetly. Her taste was so sweet, delicate and earthy and feminine. He didn't think it was possible to grow harder, but he did, pulsing against her wetness as her nipple swelled in his mouth. Her sighs and moans were long and low, punctuated by gasps as he gave the other nipple his attention. He wanted more, he wanted to taste every inch of her. He wanted to explore her with his tongue, every crevice and hollow. He wanted to find each separate scent, each subtle variation in taste, each change in texture of her skin...and he knew this was not the time. His baby girl was panting, frustrated. Her hips were pushing up against him almost frantically, she was trying to angle herself to get some relief. Hell, he was desperately needing relief. He was harder than he had ever been, painfully so. Desire pounded at him incessantly. He looked at her face, her eyes clouded and glazed, her lips swollen from his kisses, past her breasts pink and shiny-tipped from his mouth, past the sweet curve of her belly to where his body was nearly joined with hers. His darker skin against her creamy pale flesh, his cock shiny and wet and so close. 

"Daddy." Her voice was tight and thready and full of need. 

He levered himself over her, braced on his forearms, poised just at her entrance. "Yes, baby girl, yes." His mouth crushed down on hers as he thrust into her in one long smooth movement. He swallowed her cry, she smothered his groan. He fought his urges and held himself still for just a moment, kissing her deeply, letting them both adjust. And when her hips arched again, her inner muscles clenching around him, he let himself move.




Surrender



He filled her completely. His thrusts in and out of her now were smooth and long, still gentle. His face was tight, so tight. Her hands stroked over the broad planes of his back, dimly registering the texture of his skin, the play of muscles as he help himself in check. Each stroke inside of her, each long withdraw sent her reeling again. She was going higher, higher. Her body was humming, singing with pleasure, and she was so close suddenly, right there...her nails dug into his back, she gasped out his name- "Daddy!". Her fingers raked over his shoulders, squeezed his upper arms, dragged down his chest and over his ribs. As if from a distance she heard his groans, matching her sharp pants each time he filled her. And his voice, encouraging her, telling her to let go...the pressure built so high she thought she would break. Her whole body was on fire, liquid fire that burned from the inside out. Her heels dug into the rug, her thighs opened to accept him completely. Her hair tangled around her damp face as she tossed her head, seeking, searching, trying so hard to find that pleasure that was so close. 

"Just let it go, baby." 

She fought to relax, to let everything happen. She looked up at her dad, looked at his face, so tight and strained with effort- until he smiled at her. And she just let go and surrendered. And suddenly she was there, falling over the edge, crying out on one long, keening wail as her hips bucked and shuddered. Pleasure swamped her, tingling from head to toe, drowning her in sensation. She felt herself spasm around him, clenching tightly, and each thrust just rocketed her higher. 

He felt her orgasm, felt her body squeeze him mercilessly. He couldn't slow his movements, even wrapped up in the beauty of her pleasure. Even as her cries faded and her body finished contracting around him her was grabbing her hips, angling them for even deeper penetration. God, she was so damn hot, so wet, so tight. He shifted just slightly, his movements becoming jerky. Harder, faster, shorter strokes. Her eyes flew to his in startled pleasure, his name gasped out on a breath a question of wonder.

"Again, baby girl...give me more," he growled. He could have wept when her legs wrapped around his waist. Her moans were sending him higher, the spasming of her muscles as he pounded against her, pounded into her drove him that much closer to the edge. The pressure was thick, throbbing. He watched her face as she came the second time, so close on the heels of the first. Her hips bucked wildly, her hands clenched on him, her nails biting into the skin of his upper back. He felt that unmistakable tingle, felt it moving through him like lightning, and he surrendered to it even as she cried out his name again. It washed over him, flooded him, that hot, razor sharp wave of pure pleasure as he felt himself spill into her. 

His movements slowed, stilled. He held himself braced above her for a long moment, until he could gather enough strength to move. Carefully he rolled to the side, wrapping his shuddering daughter in his embrace. 

She clung to him with a kind of desperation, needing a solid anchor in the emotional and physical storm that whirled around them. Her body was still reacting, pulsing with pleasure and involuntarily spasming now and then. Her breathing was slowing gradually, her pulse no longer racing quite as fast. She felt her dad reach over her head and stretch, and then he was holding the glass of water she had brought in, offering it to her. She took it thankfully, levered herself into a sitting position and drinking deeply, then handing it back to him. She watched as he turned the glass, positioning it so that his lips were where hers had been only seconds before, and then drinking. That little twisted, heated coil of desire in her belly unfurled slightly, surprising her. 

He set down the glass, then hooked his hand around his daughter's neck, pulling her to him. His mouth covered hers in a long, tender, gentle kiss. He took his time, absorbing her taste, her textures. As she melted against him, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back down to the floor, cradling her against his chest, reaching behind him and tugging a soft throw from the basket beside the couch, pulling it over them both. 

They settled into a tangle of arms and legs, wrapped around each other. And quietly, after each whispered "I love you", both father and daughter surrendered to sleep.



Surrender



The dream changed only slightly each time I had it. At least once a week, the shores of a vast sea would wash into my mind and I found myself standing near the edge, longing to dip my toes into a cajoling surf. The problem was, I just couldn't seem to get there, though the barrier itself (unknown though it was) only seemed to fuel my desire to reach the water that much more. I needed to submerge myself, and I wanted the cool liquid to penetrate me -- to fill my orifices. I ached to be purified beyond a simple cleansing; I knew it would be so much more than that. It was a yearning for tranquility, a desire to languish in the utter silence that could only exist from being immersed in such a nurturing element, and it was what my soul urgently craved. 

The first time I saw him, he was sitting at the rear entrance of a grocery store on one of those white, plastic deck chairs you get from Walmart. I happened to be driving past to cut through traffic when I noticed him, an idle cat most likely on a break from work. He was alone there, leaning back in his chair, legs leisurely sprawled, hands locked behind his head, elbows wide. His eyes were closed. 

As I slowed down to drive over a speed bump, I turned to take a closer look. He must have felt me watching him because, at that moment, he cracked open his lids slightly and gazed directly back. He had the face of a pharaoh -- wide set eyes as dark as night, a sable brown complexion as smooth as the creamiest hot chocolate, and a mouth that told me he didn't care much for gawking white girls. His lips were parted, as if he were too tired to hold them closed, and when my face blushed a bright shade of pink, I though I saw the hint of a smile breach his expression. 

Embarrassed, I swung my head away quickly, but still peeked at him through my rear view mirror, my old Honda sputtering past. From the outgrown fade to the outdated jeans, I knew he was not the kind of man to catch a woman with his money or his style. It would be his way with words, his strong sense of self, and his abilities in the bedroom that would do it. 

After that day, my choice of shopping locations was easy and I proceeded to frequent his store until I saw him again. When I did, he was unloading cereal boxes onto the shelves, his well defined arms bulging magnificently. 

Pretending to need a jar of molasses, I parked my cart beside the oats and surveyed him out of the corner of my eye. He worked the way he sat, relaxed and with what seemed like no particular goal in mind. For all he cared, it appeared to me, the stocking of shelves could have taken ten years to complete. He was a pleasure to behold, and upon imagining his muscular legs writhing against mine, I accidentally knocked a glass bottle of one hundred percent, pure maple syrup onto the floor. "Oops, I can't believe I just did that!" I yelped, stepping back to avoid the brown sticky mess that was oozing across the aisle. 

"Don' worry. Me get a mop to clean de mess," the subject of my vivid daydream sighed indifferently as he strolled away. Unable to bear a confrontation, I ran out of the store faster than a jackrabbit with its tail on fire. 

A couple of weeks later, confident enough to try my luck again, I returned and after looking around the store briefly, I found him in the produce section stacking oranges into a pyramid display. With hands cemented to the cart's handle, I walked past trying to appear casual, looking more like I was stuck in quicksand. When he glanced up and smiled, my heart immediately dropped into my stomach. 

"Dem betta hide de syrup!" He had a laugh like a little boy -- quick and stuttering -- a light-hearted machine gun firing rounds of giddiness throughout the space. Likewise, his eyes twinkled like those hand-held sparklers you get on the fourth of July, and I knew I needed a quick comeback.

"Maple syrup is good for lots of things," I offered pathetically. 

His eyebrows lifted. "Me know. It taste good pon de pancake dem."

"I really like pancakes," I replied, still sputtering. And though he had me confounded, our banter continued that day and over the next couple of months, progressing from talk of groceries, to the weather, to current events, until I found myself discussing the more intimate circumstances of my life with him. 

Our incidental chats revealed an abundant number of similarities between us. We were both students at the same university, (albeit different faculties); we both had part-time jobs to pay the bills; we were both the oldest of three children; we both loved foreign films; and we both adored our pets to a fanatical extreme. In fact, we had so much in common, it was almost scary, and as time passed, I eagerly anticipated my conversations with this man. Things were getting interesting. 

One chilly, autumn afternoon, I entered his store, hoping, as usual, to further our growing friendship. When he appeared from behind a stack of frozen juice flats and saw me -- armed with my small basket of non-necessities -- he beamed from ear to ear. To say that I was shocked when he walked over and actually put his arm around my shoulders is an understatement. 

"Hello," he said, sounding casual. Disappointed, I assumed it was going to be just another day of benign conversation but then he unexpectedly leaned in close and whispered, "You look cozy in dem clothes." I was bundled tight in a scarf and wool coat. 

"Ummm, OK." His eyes were the darkest shade of brown I'd ever seen. 

"You mus' be hot. You wan' me fe hot you up some more?"

Long pause. "Ummm, I don't know..." 

"Den say yes," he stated simply, like it was my only option. "Meet me after work 'ere about six, a'right?" When I couldn't speak, he continued, "A hot you hot fe me eenh... just mek me touch you." My face burning, I wondered if he thought all Caucasians pitiful, our skin color such an obvious indicator of our emotions. 

Ironically, I discovered later that my cream-colored flesh excited him though I don't think even he realized it until we'd been a couple for some time. My lover enjoyed making me blush, and he took pride in his ability to mark me, each time purposely leaving behind little signs that he had been there. From the print of a hot slap, to a mottled, purple hickey, he used my skin like a tool: a device with which he could declare his manhood; a bulletin board for him to tell others that I was his property; and an instrument that signified my ever-increasing state of arousal when we were together. 

"Me love de way you neck an' you chest red up like dat," he'd proclaim, leisurely tracing over the patterns of blotchiness he'd expertly created. 

Admittedly, he wasn't the only one fascinated by our contrasting physical qualities either. For me though, it wasn't about manipulating his darkness that held particular appeal, mostly because it wasn't so easily changed in the first place. In that sense, among many others, he represented an immutable strength. No, what captivated me, were those features he had -- the ones that I didn't. His dense bush of ebony curls, both the ones that eloquently crowned his perfect head, and the extra-tight ones down below that encircled his penis, could keep me enthralled for hours. Similarly, the timbre of his voice with its exotic syllables and sounds thrummed straight to my heart, and in turn, activated a slow drip between my legs. Undoubtedly, he could bewitch me with a single word. 

So later that day, when we met and he uttered my name upon greeting, I knew I'd be his willing prisoner forever. Then, like we were already seasoned lovers, he kissed me on the cheek, took my hand, and led me to his car. Through a break in the buildings, the setting sun was visible, a huge orange fireball melting into the horizon. "The gods dem a' rest tonight," he said. "De sun is happy you know..." He seemed content to believe that the world was at peace, our decision to be together having been approved at some higher, more spiritual level, and when he squeezed my palm tight, I felt the sudden influx of warmth inundating his veins. He was excited and so was I.

On the road however, he drove unhurriedly, as though his rising passion had no bearing on his actions. Back straight and eyes focused forward, he was a fairly convincing portrayal of a man in total control, and with each breath, his chest rose only marginally higher than it should've. But when I grazed his neck with my fingertips, he nearly vaulted right out of his seatbelt. 

"A wha' you a do? You a try fe kill us?" Knowing what I did about him, I figured that he was annoyed at my ability to affect his composure with the slightest touch. 

"Jumpy are we?" I kidded. "Ahhh... it's just that you are so sexy, I can't seem to keep my hands to myself." It was a brave comment and though I said it jokingly, it was how I really felt. Nevertheless, he didn't so much as smile at my compliment. 

It took me a while to figure out stuff like that -- his apparent apathy at times -- but eventually I realized that it was his way of forcing me to pay attention, his way of making sure I gave a certain level of commitment to the intricacies of the relationship. There was a definite craft in loving this man and it was all in the details. Any other less determined or observant woman may have given up on him, but for me it was not an option. I needed him, though at that point, I still wasn't sure how much. 

After the little angst-ridden, seat-ejecting incident, my master of steel nerves transformed yet again into a driving automaton, leading the way without question or concern for my wishes, and I dutifully went along for the ride. And as with all the other things he said and did, I liked it. 

We cruised along through the city streets, sharing our childhoods, comparing our preferences for things like ice-cream and grapefruit juice, discussing seriously whether microwave ovens were more dangerous than cell phones, and deciding that two story houses were definitely better than bungalows for raising families. There were no awkward silences -- it was as if we'd been together many times already. 

Before I knew it, we'd pulled into what I assumed was the parking lot of his apartment building, and up until then, our date had been uneventful -- comfortable -- but when he turned the car off, all the talking stopped. Shifting in his seat to rest against the door, he then began nervously stroking the short, curly hairs of his beard. In a way, he was the same as the first day I saw him outside the grocery store: reclining indifferently, but this time in a slightly more anxious manner. I too was fidgeting in my seat, not sure what to say, when suddenly he growled, "Show me you' behind."

Stunned, I hesitated long enough to put a couple of good-sized dents into my bottom lip, but finally, I managed a question, "Don't you want to go inside? Surely we've come all this way for a reason." My thinking was that if he'd wanted to have sex in the car, we could have done that at the mall. Now, maybe he didn't hear me, or maybe he was simply waiting for me to pull my pants off, but whatever the reason, he didn't reply. He just stared, tracking the contours of my body from the hollow of my throat down to the crux of my thighs. 

Again, I pressed for some kind of verbal response. "My behind? You mean you want me to show you my bum? Right here in the car?" He had me rattled, but when he reached over and began undoing my jeans himself, my brain turned to mush and my body lit on fire. In the split second that it took for him to unhook the button, I went from slightly concerned with, to completely oblivious to, my surroundings. Unquestionably, my libido had kicked into high gear and I couldn't wait any longer to have his hands on me. 

I ended up wrestling the snug denim down on my own, my black lace thong tagging along, and I was left exposed, ass in the air, his thumbs prying at the hole that only moments before knew everything about decorum. Twisting around to observe his face, I saw that his eyes were as big as saucers and my muscles contracted in response, my body instinctively trying to close what he was so desperately trying to open. And just when I thought I was about to be penetrated with a neighbor peering through the window, he stopped altogether and mumbled raggedly, "Come nuh baby, put on you clothes dem an' let's go." 

Inside, his apartment was modest and well kept -- by my standards, not too clean, but not too messy either. It smelled of spicy food, some kind of lemon cleaner, and possessed a coziness that made me feel right at home. 

Interestingly enough, as he showed me around, he avoided all talk of the curious incident in the car. "De bat'room ova deh so, extra toilet paper in de closet. Me nuh have much in de fridge, but wha' fe me a fe you too. Take anyt'ing you need." Halfway into the kitchen, and none too timidly, he unexpectedly stopped, took my hands in his, and pulled me in close. "By-de-way, is WHAT you need?" There was a distinct change in his tone.

"I don't really need anything," I answered plainly, wondering what it was he expected as an answer. His sensuous, full lips turned down at my ambivalent reply, but he tightened his already unyielding grasp and pushed me hard against the wall. 

"You no need nut'ing?" 

"Well, I guess I need you." He had me pinned.

"How you mean?"

Attempting to sound confident AND sexy, I said what I thought he wanted to hear, enunciating each syllable, articulating each word, "I... need... to... fuck... you." 

"Is all you need?" he was disappointed again, though I wasn't sure why. Even still, he began rubbing the hardness in his pants up and down against my belly. 

"What else is there?" I thought that fucking him would have been more than enough. 

"Maybe you a dream dat a scary, black man a tek you," he said seriously. "All a de white girls wan' dat."

"That can't be it. I know you would never hurt me." I knew he never would. 

Finally, I'd said something right and he leaned in and kissed me softly. It was at that very moment that my recurring dream came rushing back. As his lips teased mine, I could almost feel the water swirling around my feet as I waded in the shallows, the turnover of each wave foaming between my toes. An incredible warmth and serenity existed in the strength of his hands as he kneaded my waist, but there was something in his depths -- something harsher, more virile, something that told me he had the capacity to swallow up and ravage those he didn't care for -- that had me distracted. 

With me though, I could feel him purposely holding back, lingering over my mouth and exploring the distinct features of my face with an almost painful drowsiness. He kept the intensity to a sufferable yet passionate level, only allowing me to trifle just beyond the buttons of his shirt to pluck at what little chest hair he had, and to sample the salty fervor that glazed his collarbone. But reserved or not, it was in his presence that evening that I realized I'd found my destiny. 

We didn't actually have sex until six months later, and I should have known that I'd be the impatient one. Oh, I knew he felt the same urgency, but for some reason, he never seemed to let his guard down. I did manage to trick him from time to time, but for the most part, he was always trying to divert my actions like a traffic cop chopping at the air, "Come this way. Don't go that way," rerouting my attempts like I was on-coming traffic. He was never mad or upset thank goodness; he just wanted things to go at HIS speed.

Once however, about four and a half months into his reverent reign, I got lucky. It happened one night when we were watching television together. I'd slyly arranged it so that he was sprawled out on the couch, while I sat on the floor, positioned strategically with my head only inches from his crotch. When I leaned back to pass the popcorn and my hair skimmed his pants, it was all over. He abruptly grabbed my shirt and pulled me onto his lap. By the voracious look on his face, it was clear that I had the green light, but it was not until I actually got his pants down and had his penis in my mouth that I felt the magnitude of his hunger. 

He filled my throat and stretched my lips so wide that my chin stung and my cheeks hurt, his cock the perfect weapon. It was thick and long, darkest at the end, and proportionally unequaled when it came to fitting inside my body. At first, he pumped into me methodically, arms soldiered to his sides, but as things progressed and the combined profusion of my saliva and his premature juices increased, he grabbed my scalp with his hands and pulled my head hard onto his groin. I sucked and swallowed fiercely until he finally began heaving his whole body with an increasingly spastic rhythm. 

I knew he was about to cum when the end of his cock began stabbing the back of my throat, and I gagged a bit from having it shoved so far inside. He felt enormous when engorged that way, and I was sure he would fit my vagina a little too tight. I desperately wanted to know what that was like, so I tried to communicate my desire by wolfing down as much of him as I could. 

Past the point of no return, he was like a wrecking ball to my face, but when the first drops of semen began to spurt, he reverted back to his old self and everything relaxed. We were stuck in a slow motion sequence -- his hips, my head, his cock, my lips and tongue -- all undulating back and forth, into and onto each other. 

I took him as deeply as I could at that point, opening for what he gave, and when he came fully, it was in copious amounts, his cock detonating a liquid bomb into the recesses of my mouth. I vehemently swallowed the flood of his life force, and when it was over, he was once again the very same waveless macrocosm that he always represented.

One hundred and eighty-one days after our first date, the fateful moment occurred when we were finally together in the biblical sense. It began early one afternoon while we were resting on either ends of my sofa tickling at each other's toes. The romantic phase of our relationship hadn't gone exactly as I'd planned it, my lover having looked down the private chute of my anus our first time alone before even once having kissed me on the lips. Not to mention, we had yet to go all the way. While I rooted for hours of fooling around, he seemed happy to simply hang out and play footsies, and it had me concerned. Furthermore, I wanted, or rather NEEDED, to satisfy his every lecherous desire, so finally, I had to ask, "What's going on here?"

"Wha' you mean?" he grabbed my big toe and pressed his lips to my ankle. 

"Well, don't you want me?"

"You nuh see dat?" He rubbed his hand over the bulge at the front of his jeans. 

"Then why don't you want to have SEX with me?" I was almost afraid to ask.

"Oh, that."

"Yeah, that." An answer WAS required. 

"Me nuh sure you will understan' why, but ..." He sat up straight, looked directly into my eyes, and launched his explanation. "A man must have patience. He need fe focus and preserve him ene'gy. He know dat to receive somet'ing easily means it nuh wort' much, and to give somet'ing away wit'out t'ought, is to waste it." Though he spoke the words as valiantly as a prince, he then proceeded to break out into a fit of laughter, grabbing at his stomach and slapping at the cushions of the couch. 

"You're right. I don't get it." I shook my head and giggled anyway, his merriment infectious.

"A'right, how 'bout dis..." he said in earnest, "If you have a bowl of de best ice-cream in de world, would you nyam it all up one time?"

"Ummm, no, I guess..." I was beginning to understand, and at last, it was nice to know that my feelings of endearment didn't go unmatched. Happily, I leaned over and put my arms around him, pressing my nose against his. As his hands caressed the sides of my face and neck, I once again perceived the waves of his inherent ocean lapping against my body, the water sloshing up into my bellybutton over and over again. I was in deep, and thankfully our rendezvous was destined to advance. 




Surrender



When he then opened his eyes really wide and whispered, "Me wan' see you breast dem," I was overjoyed. Instantly, I leaned back and pulled down the front of my shirt. His fingers dove inside the top of my white, lace bra just as quick and he grabbed at my nipples, twisting and turning them until they hurt. And when I thought I would scream from too much stimulation, he bent forward and began nibbling away, sipping and sucking for quite some time, making me squirm more than ever. Once satiated, he licked his lips, righted my clothing, and told me to get up. Indeed, I thought we were done but a bigger surprise was yet to come. 

Into the kitchen we went where he stopped us by the back window. "Bend ova de counter fe me." I must have looked confused because he then reached under my skirt and grabbed my ass. "Put you knee up," he said, helping with the arrangement. Once in position, he purred, "Ee-heen, just like dat. Now, lay down." Not about to argue, I placed my cheek and chest flat on the cool countertop beside the kitchen sink and waited. "Look outside a de sky, an' tell me what you see." His voice was barely audible.

It felt odd to be having such a discussion when I was set-up that way, but I wanted to try -- for MY sake. I ached to know what would happen if I did. "Well, the sky is blue, and there are a few fluffy white clouds..." 

His hands were on my thighs, stroking gently up and down. "What else you see?' 

As his fingertips got closer to the edge of my panties, I became increasingly restless. "Well, there are some birds. I think they are starlings or... something, and there is a plane flying so high, I..." My voice was beginning to falter and I could barely catch my breath, when suddenly he bunched my skirt up around my waist and pressed his nose into the folds of my underwear. "Jesus Christ, you smell good," he whispered, and I thought I was going to die from provocation. But in the next moment, he pulled away and sighed, "Me know seh you would be mine foreva when you first put your hand in mine..." With that confession, it was all I could do not to melt onto the floor, but he kept going, yanking at the damp fabric of my underwear and exposing my engorged lips to his fierce gaze. He then began to poke at me, sticking his pointer finger into my hole just a fraction of an inch. "Gwan girl, now tell me more..." 

"What?" By then, a simple sentence was beyond my comprehension.

"You nuh wish sometimes dat you could fly like de bird dem?" he mused, wedging in another finger, and moving them in and out so systematically that I heard definitive slurping sounds on every down stroke. 

When he pulled out his fingers without warning, I almost cried, but he wasn't finished, returning this time with his tongue, which he darted back and forth over my moist furrows. Entranced, he paused briefly to add, "You mek me feel like de birds dem," after which, he continued stroking his tongue up and down the pathways of my vagina, occasionally dipping its tip into the ring of my ass. As he played, I clung to the stainless steel fixtures of the tap, arching my back and lifting my tailbone to allow him easier access. 

The laving and the whirling were heavenly, and when he finally settled in on my clit, I unraveled onto his face, bucking and thrashing in ecstasy. Once I had settled somewhat, I noticed that his calm persona had changed. The formidable swells of a raging sea had risen, and his tongue was reeling and flicking faster than ever, venturing everywhere in reckless abandon. The crush of his hands too kept up with the frenzied pace of his mouth, and he pinched and squeezed at my cheeks in concert. And as the contractions of my muscles intensified yet again, I could sense his waves now crashing over my head, his waters flooding my eardrums and ringing the contents of my skull. 

"Hold on baby." He moved away.

I was about to yell, "Don't you leave me here," but I didn't have to.

What happened next was mostly a blur, except that I felt a sudden distension and filling of my vagina. As I held onto the rigid silver spout and bounced backwards over his thick post, he drove into me hard, holding my hips to keep me in place. I cried out when the convulsions returned, witnessing the potency of this man's depths, yet I had never felt safer and more at peace in my entire life. 

It was brief that first time, and understandably so after our long wait. My head slammed into the backsplash of the counter at the culmination and I ended up with a big bruise on my forehead, but it didn't matter. The wonder and completeness that occurred as we came together made it all pure magic. 

And therein lay the essence of what this man gave to me. He taught me how to dream, how to use my imagination to make good things great. Contrary to my own rapaciousness, he forced me to be patient, illustrating how important it was to be content with what I already had, and he showed me how to find harmony in a world where chaos, indulgence and instantaneous gratification are the norms. For all of those things, I am forever grateful. 

I must tell you, we remain together even now, some twenty odd years later, and when I am clutched in his embrace and he lulls me at his watery bosom, I am home. I am no longer that lonely mermaid stranded on the shore.



Surrender



In the early spring moonlight, the back of the river seemed to lift and heave like the body of a snake, flowing over rocks and stumps, braiding its way through copses of saplings on the flooded banks, pooling and forming eddies as it washed around the concrete pilings of the bridges. 

"What does that remind you of?" I asked her as we drove along. "What does that make you think of?"

Huddled against the door, Lena glanced outside, then back at me. "What? The river?" 

She turned and looked back out at the night. The water gleamed as the moon came out briefly, making it look even more like a reptile's skin, then disappeared as the moon was covered over covered by the rushing, bruised-looking clouds. 

"I don't know. A flooded river. Why? Are you going to tell me something profound?"

I'd been about to, yeah, before she cut me off. Now the metaphor seemed too obvious and trying to impress her seemed kind of beside the point. It had been raining all day--all spring actually-- and rivers were flooding everywhere, little creeks becoming raging torrents. The headlights picked out piles of debris and tree branches that had been left in the highway when the water had been even higher.

"I was thinking of how the river's kind of like a person," I said, pressing on. " This is normally a pretty quiet little creek."

"Oh?" 

"Teah. Kind of like a person, like we all are. When the pressure is low, we meander along in our nice, safe, channels with barely a ripple, placid little streams. But when that pressure gets too great, more than we can handle, we start to overflow and get wild, find new channels and carve out new paths, take routes we'd never think of taking normally."

She looked at me in a way that made me sorry I'd said it. "So we're going to play everything's-a-metaphor?"

I hadn't meant it about her personally, but of course that's how she took it. I gave her a disapproving look, though, and she backed off. I was treading a fine line here between taking this too casually and making a great huge deal out of it. I was trying to feel my way.

All through dinner we'd been talking about her, her own personality, rushing in the dark around some immovable obstacles whose shape she'd just been starting to discern, leaving her feeling fragmented and split. 

"Tell me then," she asked. "If the river's a metaphor for the things we do in life, what's the metaphorical meaning of the pressure? What is that force that drives us?"

"I don't know. Lust? Desire? Nervous energy?"

"Love?" she suggested.

I didn't say anything for a while because I really didn't know. The river left us for a bit, curving off to the right as the car entered the darkness of a forest. The air entering the car smelled of leaves and mud and I turned the heater on.

"You think less of me now?" she asked. "I didn't really tell you anything during dinner you didn't already know."

"No. Of course not. But this is different, you know, being together like this. Before it was just words on a screen or on the phone. It's different being with you in person."

She turned back to the window. "You do feel differently towards me now. But that's okay. I knew it would happen."

She gathered her coat around her, not used to this kind of chill.

She'd been telling me about being assaulted when she'd been younger, about what she recalled, or imagined, or dreamed of it. It had been a constant theme with her, something that consumed her. The problem was, neither of us knew whether it had really happened or not, whether these obsessive images were memories, or fantasies, or some sort of mutated dreams or desires that she'd entirely made up. 

In the end I'd decided it really didn't matter. Either the episodes had really happened--and there was more than one of these memories--or things back then had been so screwed up that her subconscious interpreted them in terms of being assaulted. Whatever they were, they'd left some horrible images and emotional stains on her mind that oppressed her and filled her with constant anxiety and dread. They made normal sex impossible for her and poisoned her relationships. They'd left her fragile and depressed. Damaged, was the word she used.

We'd talked about it before. We'd talked about it endlessly online, in text, in voice, sessions lasting far into the night, into the morning. It had been almost a year, a year in which differences melted and we opened up to each other. In age and temperament we couldn't have been more different, yet below this or because of this we'd become some strange blend of lovers and siblings, tied together. She'd become my lover, my protégé, my sub. I would tell her to do things and she'd do them. Tell her what to wear, what to read, when to masturbate and what to think about when she did, and she would. That was how she felt her experiences had affected her: she thought they'd made her inferior, worthy of nothing but punishment and degradation and other's control. I had a different opinion of her submissiveness, though, and we'd discussed and argued about this for months without reaching any conclusion. 

Yet in all this time we'd never met, never had sex, never even seen each other in person. Tonight was the first time we'd laid eyes on each other, when I met her at the airport. The meeting had been no shock, no surprise, we already knew each other too well. We'd had dinner and talked, and now the inevitable. How she reacted would settle the issue. Would being put in the submissive role trigger a flood of abusive memories, or would it open the gates to her true sexuality?

"I need to get some hand cream," she said. "I don't know why I didn't think to bring some."

"We can stop."

"I don't know why, but I didn't expect it to be so cold up here."

"You still cold? You want me to turn the heat up?"

"No. I'll get used to it. I like the feel of the breeze. I like the night."

I took her hand in the dark of the car. It was cool and dry.

"Nervous?"

"Of course I am," she said. "Nervous as hell."

I looked at her in silhouette, the curly, jet black hair falling to her jaw line, mysterious eyes, pouting, little-girl mouth. My gaze made her uneasy and she looked away, looking for the river again through the trees.

There was really nothing more to say.

Maybe dinner had been a mistake, a chance for tensions to built. Maybe I should have just taken her straight to the motel and let her relax, let us both relax, engage in some easy affection, some play. She was dressed the way I'd told her to dress: a simple black dress with spaghetti straps, black nylons and heels, a black winter coat. Maybe I should have let her change into something more casual and relaxed.

"This could be dangerous," I'd told her at dinner. "I'm not sure what your reactions will be when we start to do this."

She wore a metal filigree choker with a large black stone at the base of her throat, her public collar. It symbolized her submission to me, her servitude. She said she wore it everywhere, felt naked without it, but sitting in the restaurant with her and knowing what we were going to do, it made me slightly uneasy.

"I'm not worried about that," she said. "We've done this online, in voice, and we both know how I react. I trust you, you know that. You're not going to hurt me or take me beyond what I want."

She always accused me of being too soft on her, of taking it too easy. 

"That's not quite what I meant," I said.

She smiled. In the candlelight o the restaurant she looked olderand quite sophisticated, knowing. But then, she was older than her age--I suppose mature is a better word. Her pain had made her wise. 

"You're afraid I'll freak," she said, smiling. "You're afraid you're going to set off some trigger or something."

"Based on your past, is that so unlikely? You know, playing these games and masturbating on line is one thing. It's something entirely different when it gets real, when I take control of you, when I get inside you."

Still smiling, she sipped her water. "We've been over that, Peter. I think your ego's showing."

I couldn't help it. I still had grave concerns about this. Her need to submit, the fulfillment she found in it, were very possibly tied to her memories of being used and exploited, or so she felt. She was afraid that her need to submit was a way of reliving that traumatic experience, an attempt to come to terms with it or overcome it. She felt, in short, that it was pathological, sick. She suspected that she wanted to be mistreated because she felt her experience made her damaged goods and worthy of nothing else.

This is a subject that I had rather strong feelings on, because I'd always maintained that sexual submission was not a pathology but an erotic preference. Yes, there were women out there who sought out the role of sexual submissive because they had miserable self-images and thought they deserved to be punished and degraded, but I didn't think this was the norm and certainly not the case with her. All the subs I had played with were very together women, confident, assured, and capable. Submission was just a role they chose in the bedroom, something they found particularly gratifying sexually. It had nothing to do with their own self-esteem or feeling of self-worth.

I was determined to somehow convince her that her submission was of this latter type. It was something to be proud of, rather than something to be shunned.

"Then what do you want me to do, Lena?" I asked. "What do you want to explore."

She chewed her food and shrugged. "I want you to do what you always do, what you do on-line. Whenever you do that, it always works for me."

Now, in the car, she'd grown quiet. The knowledge of where we were going and what we were going to do there was too strong and neither of us felt like talking.

I pulled into a strip mall where the road widened into a small town, and there was a drug store with its lights on. I pulled in so she could get her cream. The motel would be at the far end of town, where the road turned into highway again. It was cold and damp and a wind was blowing. I don't know what people thought of us--an uncle and niece? Maybe a teacher and his star pupil, a musician and his protégé, possibly. Certainly not a father and daughter. The currents between us were too serious for that, too sexual. Luckily there was no one in the place, just the teen behind the register.

I took her cream and paid for it, standing behind her. I was close enough to catch a scent of her perfume and thought it strange I hadn't noticed it before. The scent was dark and alluring, very mature. There was something very grown up and almost predatory about her. Her eyes were dark, deep, and knowing. If she was nervous, I couldn't see it. 

The suspended traffic light in the middle of town was blowing and bouncing, and the place was deserted. The river here went under a sturdy concrete bridge, then swung back in close to the highway, and there, standing around a bend on the land side of the road, was the motel, looking bright and garish in the dark, blowy night.

I'd already registered, so we drove right around back to the room. It was on the second floor, and given the possibility of another flood tonight, I was thankful for that. I'd left the lights on, and I parked below and cut the engine. It was suddenly very quiet in the car.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a smallish box. She knew what it was; I'd showed it to her earlier, before we'd gone into the restaurant. It was a black leather collar, with a chromed buckle and three sturdy, chromed rings, a classic bondage collar.

"Put this on," I said. "It's time for the real one. "

"Here? Shouldn't we wait till we get to the room?"

"No. Here. This is where I take over."

Lena picked up the collar and put it in her lap. She unhooked her choker and put it in her purse, then unbuckled the real collar, preparatory to putting it on.

"Shouldn't you do this?" she asked.

She was right, so I turned in my seat and motioned her forward. She scooted up and half-turned so her back was to me, then shrugged her coat down to expose her bare neck and gathered her hair and pulled it aside. Her neck was warm and the metal buckle of the collar was cold. I could feel her goose bumps as I buckled it in place, the leather tongue sliding through the silver buckle, the pin penetrating one of the holes in the leather as I snugged it in place.

"Too tight?"

She shook her head no, but didn't speak.

"Alright. Let's go."

We stepped out of the car and I got our stuff from the trunk and led her up the stairs to the second floor. Just then a squall of wind tore at us and it started to rain, nasty and hard; driven rain. She rushed up the stairs and pulled her coat over her hair and huddled under the overhang as I keyed the door and we went inside.

The sound of the rain was loud on the roof, sheets of it blowing against the window as we stood there, looking around at the two queen beds, a dresser, big TV, night stands with lamps, a table for a desk. Big bathroom, a rack for hangers, the whole room done in hunter's colors: autumn browns and ochre and forest green. The lamps were a bit bright but I left them like that. 

It was a classic featureless motel room, with no distractions: beds for rent, privacy assured. Immerse yourself in sin and perversion. Check out at eleven AM.

Lena looked around. "Not so bad."

I put my bag on the table and closed the curtains to the rain, locked the door and turned the heat up in the wall unit to high. I wanted it to be hot in there. I wanted us to sweat when we fucked. I started unpacking some stuff while Lena checked out the bathroom and closet, then turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels.

"Think they have any porn?" she asked. "Something to put us in the mood?"

I knew she was joking but I didn't smile. I was starting to feel it, the dominant taking over. It had started as soon as she'd put that collar on, and now I was aware of the dry heat of impending sex starting to stir in me. The door was locked, the beds were virginal, and Lena was willing. She'd said as much. 

I wasn't aroused yet--it wasn't the wet heat of immanent desire--it was more a kind of grim efficiency, collecting my forces and preparing for battle. Things seemed to get very clear and there was no room for fooling around. 

On the table I laid out a crop, some rope, a bandage scissors (always a good idea), a flogger and a vibrator; a red ball gag and a blindfold and some nipple clamps, a chromed leash. Lena stood by the TV with her coat still on, flicking channels and pretending to watch the screen, but I knew she was watching everything I did, cataloguing everything I'd brought: things meant to hurt or please, penetrate or immobilize, clamp, tie, hold, silence, and blind. Implements of control, violation, subjugation, all laid out like a collection of keys ready to be tried against the fastness of a lock.

She's a very intelligent and perceptive girl, and anything but passive in the classic sense. Submission doesn't come easy to her. It's not something she just falls into. I'd have to take control of her. With each item I laid out I felt something in her stiffen and become resistant, draw back.

"Take your coat off, honey. It' s soaked."

She seemed to notice her coat for the first time. She took it off and threw it in the chair and waited, seemingly unaware of the way she was dressed, in clothes I had chosen for their power to arouse me-- the snug black dress, the stockings and heels, the bare shoulders. She seemed unaware of what her very presence there was doing to me. 

I went to her and put my hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, and she closed them expectantly. She was there, and she was ready for my kiss, whatever it might be. After all these months and all this false intimacy between us, I touched my lips to hers and held them there, lightly, patiently, waiting to feel her attention shift to her mouth and the connection between us.

She didn't disappoint. There was the shock of recognition, of her and me together and touching, the surge of sensuality. I opened my mouth and bit her lower lip gently and she made the softest sound in her throat, a sound of acquiescence and relief, of tension released. Her arms came up around my shoulders and she pulled herself against me. Her mouth opened and she offered it , eager and vulnerable.

I took her with my tongue. She had to be tasted, licked, invaded, and all became silence between us as we switched to the language of sensation. The rain beat on the roof and lashed against the window as we stood there kissing with that elemental oral hunger that makes you want to devour and possess. I'd been waiting for any sign of rejection, any sign of pulling back or of her traumatic past reasserting itself, but there was nothing. Just a kiss, growing warmer and deeper and more sexual with each beat of our hearts

I pulled her closer and felt her body soften, losing its residual tension. She was letting go, letting the resistance drain out of her, and more than that: pressing back, pushing herself against me, already eager for it, ready to abandon herself.

I let my lips leave her mouth and trail down the side of her neck till I tasted the leather of the collar, bitter and harsh. It reminded me of what we were doing, of her pledge to submit to me, and my hands tightened possessively on her ass, pulling her against me, pulling her against my hardening cock. 

I broke the kiss and pulled away slowly, my hands on her shoulders to steady her. She opened her eyes and licked the taste of my lips from hers, then looked at me.

"What's the plan?" she asked.

"Plan? There isn't any plan. I'm going to show you what submission is like, and then you're going to tell me how it makes you feel, if it's bad or good."

She considered that. "And what if I can't?"

"You can," I said. "It's not like some kind of test you have to pass."

I looked at her for a moment, then said, "Get down on your knees, facing me."

I saw the quick blush, the sudden self-consciousness. 

"Just like that? No extended foreplay? No words of love?"

"Get down on your knees and turn off that damned TV."

Lena stiffened. "Fuck you. You can't just order me around."

I looked at her and she met my gaze, prepared to hold her ground. I'd been waiting for this. I'd been expecting it--her resistance, her sudden willfulness. I knew what it meant, why she did it. She wouldn't just give herself; she had to be taken. She had to see that I wanted her and how far I was prepared to go to have her. She needed to know it wasn't just a game.

I lunged at her and managed to grab onto her forearm, tightened my grip on it and pulled her towards me, throwing her off balance. She reached for my arm but I seized her hair and pulled her head down and to the side and she caught herself as she fell against the table.

"Okay, okay! Jesus! No need to get violent!"

"Don't fuck with me, Lena. Now's not the time!"

"Just ask nice, that's all! Just don't order me around like some slave."

"Get on your knees!" I whispered in her face. "Who do you think you are? The Queen of fucking Sheba?"

"Okay! Okay! Just let go of my hair! I can't get down when you're holding my hair!"

She'd been like this when we played online--resistant and recalcitrant at the start--and it had been harder to handle then, when I had no recourse to force, to physical dominance. Now I was able to grab her, though. I was able to bring my strength to bear, and she was startled by the result, by my adamance. 

But just because my reaction had been automatic didn't mean I wasn't still watching her, looking for some evidence of earlier trauma or abreaction. I was fully aware that application of physical force might trigger some buried memories or feelings of panic.




Surrender



I let go of her wrist but kept her hair in my hand, reached to the table and picked up the leash. It was a long leash, made for a big dog, maybe six or eight feet long. I clipped it to her collar and then let go of her hair and grabbed the handle. The chain arced from her collar to my hand, hanging about six inches above the floor. I turned and put my foot on the lowest part of the leash and pressed it to the floor, pulling her head down. 

"Alright, alright," she said. "I'm kneeling!"

But I kept on walking up the leash, holding onto the handle and stepping on it, working my way towards her, bringing her end closer and closer to the ground till Lena was forced to scramble to her knees, pulled by the chain and collar around her neck.

I stood on it for a moment, wanting to make sure she got the message, then got off, allowing her to raise her head. She tried to gain her composure, straightening up and pressing her legs primly together, her eyes down, hands on thighs. She looked as if she were going to join in some children's game.

"Not like that!" I said. "Knees apart, weight on your heels, back straight, chest out. You're supposed to be offering yourself. Understand? This is a position of respect."

Reluctantly, she straightened up, shifted her weight to her heels and shuffled her knees apart, but her expression still showed a willful resistance, a kind of scorn.

"Hands locked behind your neck. Show me your tits."

She did as told, lacing her fingers together behind her neck and pulling her elbows back to stretch the dress fabric tight against her breasts. I watched her chest rise and fall with her breathing.

"Eyes down on the floor three feet in front of you. You don't look at me, understand?"

At this she blanched. "Peter..."

"Quiet! You speak when spoken to, and only then."

This kind of order-giving was more than we'd ever done in play, and I could see she bridled at it. I took the crop from the table and went to her, and hunkered down so my eyes were at her level.

"Listen: you're either going to do as I say or we're not going to do this at all. I'm not going to fight and argue with you, Lena. If you just want to get fucked then lie down on the bed with your legs open and I'll fuck you, but if you're going to submit to me, then you're going to submit, with no talk-back and no eye-rolling and no hesitation. You understood?"

Her eyes went to the floor, and her face colored. "Okay."

"No. Not 'okay'. 'Yes, Master'. That's how you answer me."

"Yes, Master."

I stood up and left her kneeling there, hands behind her head. 

"This is the position you'll take when I tell you to kneel," I said. "Just like this. Now, pull your dress up to your waist."

She hesitated only a moment, then reached down and pulled the hem of her dress up, over her thighs, over the tops of her stockings and her garters, and tucked it into itself at her waist, exposing the bare flesh of her thighs, her black panties. The slight pout of her labia where they pressed against the tight, thin fabric was clearly visible.

"Keep your hands on your thighs and don't move them. In fact, don't move at all," I said, and dragged the tip of the crop across her cheek, down her neck and over her breasts, tapping it gently against each nipple. I watched her closely for any hint of panic or discomfort, for some sign of resistance to being treated like this, but there was none. Her breathing was deep and regular. She flinched slightly when I tapped her nipples, but that was all.

I moved the crop to between her legs, to the inside of her right thigh, and slid it across the exposed flesh above the top of her black stocking. I knew what the crop must feel like, the leather rough and cool, its touch soft yet menacing. I slid it up till it almost touched her sex--almost, but not quite--then down again, and around toward the back of her leg. 

Lena kept her hands on her thighs, but her fingers began arch as she pressed her nails into her own flesh to fight the maddening tickle of the leather against her skin.

When I switched to the other leg, she let her breath out in an audible sigh, a sound of impatience, of unsteady control, and the abductor muscle on the inside of her leg twitched.

"What?" I asked. "What are you feeling?"

"God!" she exclaimed through clenched teeth. " Touch me already! Please! You're driving me crazy!"

"When I'm ready," I said. "When I'm ready."

I continued to slide the tip of the crop up and down the insides of her upper thighs, slowly, softly, as the rain drummed on the roof and spattered on the concrete walkway outside. I was hard now, hard and aching for her, and I thought I could detect the smell of her arousal apart from the smell of wet concrete and river mud. I stepped up close to her, close, so my right foot was between her thighs. I pulled down my zipper and fished out my cock through the open fly of my shorts. It stood out like gangplank.

"Suck it," I said. "Suck it using only your lips. No tongue, no teeth. Leave your hands where they are. Show me how soft your mouth is."

I saw her eyes on my cock, on the drop of pre-cum glistening there, then they flicked up to my face, where she saw me glaring at her, eyes glowing. She immediately dropped her gaze.

I slapped the crop lightly against the inside of her thigh. "You want me to touch you, you'll do as I say."

She leaned her face forward and opened her mouth, captured my cock between her red lips and extended her neck, taking me almost half way down. I felt the moist heat of her mouth on my cock and her breath from her nostrils blowing on my shaft as she sighed. She took more, and her tongue nervously lapped at the underside of my dick despite her efforts to keep it away. She sucked a little, trying me out, then slid her head forward and took more. And then more.

Women and cock. Some of them just love it in their mouth, love the strength and hardness, the feeling of potency, and love just as much the control oral sex gives them over their man and his pleasure, the moans they elicit, the shudders of excitement. Lena was a woman who loved it, who loved that sense of control as well as the raw, living feel of it in her mouth. Her mouth was hot and wet and close and I could feel the warm greasy slip of her lipstick on me as she began to pump her head back and forth.

"Good girl. Good girl." I tangled one hand in her hair and began to guide her mouth back and forth on my tool, watching her lips slide up and back, her mouth constricted into a submissive 'O'. I moved her head easily, like she was on bearings, up and back, up and back, my cock making wet and viscous sounds as it slid in and out of the vacuum of her mouth.

Steeling myself against the pleasure, I reached down with the crop. It was a delicate shot, I aimed it precisely, then drew my hand back and slapped the crop against the bulge of her labia, right on her pussy, right through her panties.

"Mmmnnnnhhhh!!" 

The blow came as a shock to her and her eyes flew open. She moaned around my cock, but she didn't stop sucking.

Slappp!!! I spanked her pussy again, continuing to work her head back and forth on my prick, holding her hair and pumping it in and out.

And then Whapp!!! I hit her again. 

"Nngh! Mmmnnnn!!"

"That's a hot little whore pussy you have there, isn't it Lena? Hot little piece of ass. She gets you in a lot of trouble, doesn't she? Makes you want to do terrible things."

I slapped her pussy again. And yet again.

"She's the reason you're so bad, isn't she? She's the real trouble-maker here. That hot little cunt. That little hole between your legs."

Lena moaned. She grunted each time the crop hit her cunt, but I wasn't hitting her that hard. A little slap, a spank with the inch square piece of leather that tipped the crop, that's all it was. It was the shock of what I was doing that got her; the indignity of being spanked between her legs while her mouth was being so brutally fucked inflamed her, made her moan and slaver and labor over my cock as I pumped it in and out of her mouth.

She was sucking me hard now, cheeks hollowing, tongue all over my cock despite my warnings, trying to pull the cum out of me, trying to make me shoot it in her mouth. If she was having any negative reactions to this, experiencing any of those feelings of self-loathing or despair she claimed came upon her whenever she remembered her earlier abuse, they sure didn't show now. She looked like a woman in the throes of submissive transport. She was sucking me hard, trying to make me cum, hoping to distract me from noticing just how much she loved what I was doing to her, whipping her pussy, driving her towards orgasm despite her shame and humiliation, despite punishing the very source of her sex.

Slap!! Slap!! Whap!! Slap!! 

The blows came faster and firmer. I was spanking her pussy steadily now, a little faster than she could bob her head, wanting to see if she'd move her head in rhythm to the blows. Saliva was leaking from her lips, running n twin streams from the corners of her mouth making her look wild and dissolute, drunk on cock and abuse, when suddenly I stopped, pulled my hips back and lifted her head off my prick.

"God! God!" she moaned, licking her lips and sucking in great gobs of air. She looked disoriented, totally disheveled, her hair a mess, eyes heavy and lips swollen, her red lipstick smeared and worn.

"How are you doing?" I looked down at her.

"God, Peter! Why'd you stop? Why'd you stop? I was close!"

"You were, huh? Going to come from getting your pussy whipped like that? And who gave you permission to orgasm? Who said this was about you coming?"

Her eyes flicked up to my cock, red and swollen and dripping with her saliva, then went down the floor. She dug her nails into her legs.

I glared down at her but in reality I was terribly pleased. She'd just been used and violated, and if such treatment were going to trigger any kind of bad reaction, it would have shown by now. But there'd been no flashback, no sudden recoil, no signs of trauma at all at what I was doing to her.

Maybe I'd better explain myself here. Maybe I'd better explain how ordering a girl to her knees and fucking her mouth while I slapped her pussy with a whip was in any way morally different than simple, outright abuse. Maybe I should try to explain the difference between BDSM and assault, between submission and victimhood. 

Or maybe I should let Lena describe the difference, because as I pulled her to her feet and made her take off her dress, I asked her: "What are you feeling now. Tell me how it feels."

She peeled her dress up over her head and threw it aside She was naked from the waist up as I'd told her to be, wearing only her panties, black garter belt, stockings and shoes. She'd been shy about her body. I knew that from talking to her, but she didn't show any shyness now. She hardly even noticed her nakedness now. She was excited, aroused. Her dress had been an encumbrance.

"God! I'm on fire! What did you do to me? Your hands in my hair..."

"You liked that, didn't you? It feels good to be used, to be taken. It started you up, didn't it?"

She seemed confused, half intoxicated, but I didn't waste any time. I turned her around and lashed her wrists together behind her back with a length of rope, then turned her to face me. I pushed her back against the bathroom door until she banged into it, then pressed her up against it and was on her immediately, kissing her, biting her mouth, my hands sliding up to find her breasts and squeeze, grabbing them and flattening them against her chest. 

She moaned into my mouth and bit me back as I kissed her and I might have smiled had I been less excited. She was such a hot little vixen, more responsive than I'd even dreamed. When I pressed my leg up between her thighs, she pushed her pussy at me and began to rub herself on my pants like a bitch in heat. I could feel her warmth and moisture through the fabric of my pants.

Here's what it is: women are every bit as sexual as men, but some have these inhibitions to overcome. Social pressures, self-image, the need to appear lady-like, it takes some women a lifetime to shake these restrictions, if they ever even do. But when a man comes down on them like this--a man they love, a man they want-- comes down on them with all his lust and his twisted desires, they no longer have to worry about all that. They're no longer responsible for their actions, they're no longer in charge of themselves. By forcing her and tying her, I was setting her free, taking the decisions away from her. She was mine now, and all she had to do was stand there and experience it.

I let go of her breast and slid my hand down her belly, down beneath the elastic of her panties, touching her, feeling the softness of her shaved mound, her pubic protuberance. Her bites became harder, more urgent as I teased her above the hood of her clit, rubbing her skin but not her pussy, then slid my finger down and curled it beneath her in the moist heat of her vaginal swamp. I softly touched the hot, sticky lips of her pussy.

"Oh!"

She jerked her hips at me in mindless reflex and let her head fall to her chest. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so I could see her, so I could see her face as I violated her. I held her head against the door as I slid my lips down over her chest, over the soft bulge of her breast, captured a nipple in my mouth and began to suck. It was tender and silky beneath my lips, but soon became stiff, hard, suffused with blood. My finger meanwhile had found the swollen lips of her sex and slid up and back, opening her up and exposing her.

"God! Peter!" 

She needed it. She needed it already, and as my finger plowed back and forth in the swollen tightness of her slit, it opened her up enough that a stream of her wetness dripped into the palm of my hand, hot and viscous, overflowing with readiness.

What is it about a woman with her arms tied behind her that does this to me? That turns me into such a sexual animal, a beast. Her defenselessness, her vulnerability. No, it wasn't just vulnerability. It was her eagerness, her offering. She'd agreed to this, to be used, tied and bound, and now her nakedness and the hot wetness of her pussy was being given to me, pushed at me as her body reacted without her conscious control.

The panties had to go. They had to go. I wasn't about to mess with the garters and clips, so I took the bandage scissors off the table and just cut them off her, cutting them at the hips as I held her head against the door. I pulled them off through her legs and tossed them aside and there she was--naked for all intents and purposes, her arms levered up behind her back, her legs slightly spread. I held her head there against the door till she opened her eyes and looked at me, and then, never breaking the gaze, I slid my finger into her.

"Ohhhhhhh..."

I wanted to see her eyes when I entered her. I wanted to see the look on her face, and I wasn't disappointed. Her eyes locked on mine, innocent and violated. I had my finger inside her, and I saw it in her eyes, the hunger, the humiliation, the surrender and desire. I covered her mouth with mine and put my tongue inside her. Still holding her head against the door, I moved my finger inside her and felt her quiver.

"This is what it's like," I whispered. "This is what it's like to be taken, possessed, to be used for my pleasure."

Her eyes were closed now. Her lips were parted and her breasts lifted with her rapid breathing, up and down, up and down, her nipples still shiny wet with my saliva. I tried to put another finger in her but she was too tight, too firm, her sheath unyielding, so I relented and satisfied myself with sliding my thumb around her clit as I fingered her, lewd, invasive. She opened her eyes and looked at me, her eyes pleading.

"No," I said. "You're not to cum. No orgasm, no climax. Not till I say so. So just hold it in. Keep it back. You're mine now, and you do as I say."

Lena whined through her teeth as I continued to work my finger in and out of her pussy, my thumb sliding around the wet, nubile bud of her clit. I let go of her hair slowly, slowly relaxing my grip, and she kept her head there pressed against the door. From outside came a peal of thunder in the distance as the rain continued to drum on the roof. I hadn't even seen the flash of lightning.

"You're to stay here," I told her." Stay right against the door like this, legs apart, just the way you are now. Don't fucking move!"

Slowly I levered myself away from her, lifted my weight from her. I kept my finger in her pussy till the last moment, then removed it. I held it to her lips.

"Taste," I said. "Taste what your surrender is like."

She closed her eyes, turned her head in refusal, so I grabbed her face and turned her back to the front.

"Taste!"

Her lips opened, the pinkness of her tongue appeared. I slid my finger into her mouth and she closed her mouth on it, began to suck on it docilely, a baby at her mother's tit. I let her suck it, started moving it in and out like I was fucking her lips, like a little prick. There was another flash of lightening and the lights dimmed, then came back on, flickering nervously. Seconds later came the muttering of thunder. The storm was settling in, the front moving on, leaving these dark, wet clouds above us. Out behind the motel, the river would be heaving between its banks, thick and gleaming like a gleaming black serpent.

"Tell me how you like this," I asked, pulling my finger from her mouth. "Tell me how it feels, being tied like this, being taken."

She looked at me with the eyes of a criminal. "God! Can't you tell?" 

"Is it like your memories? Like what happened to you?"

"No, no. Nothing like that. It's just... intense. I didn't think it would be so intense."

Seeing the lights dim had been nice, so I left her there while I turned off the bedside lamps that had been illuminating the room. I opened the curtains to let in the runny, aqueous light that seeped through the rain-sheeted window from the parking lot, illuminating her in a square of pale white and nacreous green. It gave the whole scene a surreal, undersea glow, illuminating her body standing in the doorway.

Lena stood where I'd left her, waiting for my next move. 

When you dom, you have to control yourself. You have to let yourself go, but only so far and no further. This was her first time and there was the issue of her past to consider, the horror of real sexual abuse. I was afraid of pushing her too far too fast, of overwhelming her with my needs and demands. I had to know where to draw the line.

It's a mystery to me what I want from these women anyhow, tied-up, bound, rendered helpless and vulnerable. To fuck them, own them, possess them, make them let me do what I want to them and admit me to their bodies, but something else as well. Their souls, their surrender, the molten chaos of their orgasms, the feel of them melting around the hard thrust of my cock, the loving, intimate violence of male on female sex. It was something primal and primitive, something that could not be rationally explained. 

But here I paused, my conscience getting the better of me.

"I'm going to untie you," I said. "I think we've done enough. I think you need time to..."

"No!" she said. 

The wet light from the window was washing down her body like liquid. Her eyes were dark and certain.

"No. I don't want to be untied. I want you to take me like this. I want you to do it. Do everything."

I looked at her but she didn't look away.

"Peter, I want this. It feels good, it feels right, like how I used to imagine sex would be, hot and passionate and hungry. I want you to do this, to take me like this. I feel like I belong to you, and I want to feel what it's like."




Surrender



I'm really not a dom's dom. I'm really not one to impose my will on a woman just so I can feel a sense of control or superiority. What I am is more like a teacher, or maybe a guide. I like to take women to parts of themselves they haven't visited before and don't know very well, and there we explore. I like to take them to the edge where rationality and inhibition disappear, and all that's left is the things you can express by one body thrusting into another, by mouth fusing to mouth, soul to soul.

But it's hard in motels. There's no decent places to tie a girl; no solid hooks or poles or fixtures, not like at my place, festooned with chains and pulleys and rope. I could throw a rope over the top of the bathroom door to raise her arms, but that was a hassle and would take time to set up. The bed, being a motel bed, of course had no legs to tie a rope around and the plain fake-wood headboard was bolted flush to the wall. But this time I'd come prepared. I had some special tie-downs attached to flat pieces of steel designed to slide far enough between the mattress and box spring to provide secure anchors for tying her. I would have my way.

I got them out now, pulled the duvet and blankets off the bed, and slid the tie-downs in place, one in each corner. I got the four leather cuffs with the chains and clips attached and dumped them on the bed.

"Come here," I said. Sit on the bed."

I took her upper arm and led her to the bed, turned her around and sat her down. I slipped the handle of the leash over my arm, then took two of the cuffs and got down on my knees and buckled them around her ankles. Lena watched in something of a fog, as if this were happening to someone else. When her ankles were cuffed, I clipped them together with a short, two-inch clip.

"What are you doing?" she finally asked.

By that time I was standing back up and loosening the bonds on her wrists so I could cuff them too. "Cuffing you. What does it look like?"

She seemed to take a long moment to digest what I'd said, and in that time I got both cuffs on her wrists and pulled off the rope and tossed it aside.

"But why? What are you going to..."

I took her right wrist and pulled it over to the upper right tie-down, causing her to lose her balance and start to topple onto her side. She stopped herself with her left hand and said, "No! Wait! Wait!"

I clipped her wrist to the chain on the tie-down, about four inches from the edge of the mattress. "What? What is it now?"

"You're going to tie me to the bed? Is that is?"

"Yeah. That's about it." I reached for her left hand and she snatched it away.

"No, wait! Wait, I can't do this! Don't!"

"What are you talking about? I just had your hands tied behind your back."

"I don't care. I don't want to do this." She hugged her left arm to her chest against the leash, her fingers curled into a stubborn fist. She turned her face away from me.

"I don't understand. How is this different?"

"I don't know! It just is. I don't want to be tied down to a piece of furniture, stretched out like that."

I looked at her, but she didn't look panicked, she didn't even look frightened. She looked pouty and hurt, stubborn, like a spoiled child.

"Is it about what happened? Does it remind you of the assault?"

She waited a while before answering, then said, "No. It has nothing to do with that. Nothing at all." Her face was still turned away.

I was bewildered and uneasy, still worried about her traumatic past. The rain beat on the roof as I sat there at a loss, looking at her naked body in shoes, stockings and garter belt, primed for sex. As if now aware of her nakedness, she drew her knees up towards her body, her ankles still clipped together.

Something in that simple, modest gesture made things suddenly clear to me, made me instantly understand. She wasn't afraid, wasn't panicked-- she certainly wasn't having some kind of traumatic flashback. She was being coy, making me work for it, refusing to comply in her own violation. So far she'd put up hardly any resistance, and that had been easily overcome, and now she was feeling like maybe she was being too easy, too biddable and compliant.

At the same time, she'd made no move to free her right wrist from the restraint. She hadn't touched the clip holding her ankles together. She was waiting. Waiting to be forced, waiting to be compelled.

I felt a sudden surge of anger-tinged desire, realizing I was being toyed with, played. I'd been sitting with her on the right side of the bed. Now I got up and went to the left side where I'd have more leverage.

"It's a little late for that, Lena." I grabbed her left wrist and pulled it up toward the tie-down. "It's a little late for that now."

Faced with my adrenalin-fueled strength, she was no match. She tried to keep her arm down, but I easily overpowered her and felt her give up, her arm relax. I pulled it tight, stretched her arm out till her left wrist was almost off the mattress, and clipped it in place.

Lena struggled, or she tried. Her ankles were clipped together, her wrists were bound and arms stretched. All she could really do was roll her hips from side to side and thrash, and her heart really wasn't it in. I got her ankles chained down easily enough, bringing them both to the left tie-down while I affixed her left ankle, then taking off the short clip and pulling her right ankle over to the other one.

By now she'd stopped struggling at all, and I drew the chains, tight, tight, really stretching her out till the corners of the mattress started to curl up. I want to give her no slack to work with.

I was sweating when I finished, and I was hot for her, ready to take my prize, but a glance at her face showed me something else: she was loving this. Loving the struggle, the fight, and loving not only her resulting state of helplessness, but the level of angry arousal she'd ignited in me as well. I was hard, throbbing, and my muscles felt big and swollen, like after a workout. I forced myself to be calm, to keep it under control.

She was spread wide, exposed, vulnerable, and there was nothing she could do about it. Stockings and shoes and garter belt now framed her loins in black and in the center was the glistening slit of her sex. The leather cuffs creaked softly as she shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable, but how comfortable could she get when she was lying there with her legs apart, beyond decency, beyond shame. 

"It's true," I said as I picked up the flogger. "Some people panic when they're tied like this. A kind of claustrophobia, I understand. You're not going to panic, are you, Lena?" 

I dropped the thongs of the flogger against her tits and dragged them lazily down her body. She looked up at me intently but said nothing. When the thongs drifted down over her hips and thighs, some of them sliding over her pussy and dropping between her legs, she closed her eyes and shuddered slightly.

"It actually feels good being tied down this way, doesn't it? You can't move, you can't resist, you can't stop me from doing anything I like to you. Do you like it?"

Her eyes were closed and her lips compressed, but she didn't have to say anything. In the weak, watery light I could see her pussy glistening, swollen and wet with her own arousal. She was dripping with it, overflowing.

I laid the flogger down on her chest, coiling the thongs under the handle so it looked like a nest of snakes between her tits, then sat down in the chair and leisurely took off my shoes and socks. I stood and unbuttoned my shirt and slid it off. It was quite warm in the room by now and both of us were sweating. I was hard and throbbing against my pants, but I left them on, savoring the pressure and discomfort. It would give a certain urgency to what I was going to do. I merely adjusted myself to ease the tension, pointing my cock up.

"Whatever happened to you when you were young, I don't think it has anything to do with how you feel now," I said, slowly retrieving the flogger from her chest. "There's a difference between being sexually exploited at an age where you don't even know what sex is, and giving yourself over to your lover as a mature woman and putting yourself in his hands. There's nothing sick about this as far as I'm concerned. How you want to think about it is up to you, but you want it, you want to know what it's like, and you deserve to know. More than anyone I can think of, you deserve to know. So let's see what we can learn."

I began swinging the flogger slowly over her thighs, back and forth, letting the fall of thongs brush against her skin as if I were sweeping her off, preparing her for what was to come. It was a light suede flogger that I was very fond of, because it could be make to tickle like velvet or sting like rawhide depending on the force behind it. I brushed it against her maybe a dozen times, getting her ready. Then I reared back and whipped it across her thighs.

Lena gasped, pulled tighter, and I flogged her again.

"No!" she said. "Don't! Not with the whip, the flogger, whatever it is. Don't"

I stopped and looked at her, surprised. This was starting to be more trouble than it was worth.

"I don't care if you hit me, if you punish me, but not with the whip. Use your belt. That's yours, a part of you. Use your belt instead."

"My belt? You know that's going to hurt more than the flogger."

"I don't care. I don't care about the pain. Use your belt."

I looked at her for a moment and saw she was serious. She wanted he belt. I put the flogger on the table and unbuckled my belt, pulled it through the loops and doubled it, then wrapped it around my hand a couple times to shorten it.

The first few strokes were gentle, tentative, just laying the leather on her skin with a lazy overhead delivery. The belt was capable of doing much more damage than the flogger, and I was hesitant to use it. I let it slap softly against her thighs, her hips, brushed it against her tits.

"You can do it harder than that," she said. "You can do it a lot harder than that."

"Don't rush me," I said. "I didn't ask for your opinion."

I pulled my wrist back and flicked it against her thighs. Harder, then even harder. Finally I hit her hard enough to make the belt slap against itself with a frightening crackk!!

Lena groaned and gasped and her nipples stiffened visibly but she never told me to stop, never told me to ease up, and she never asked me why I was doing this to her. I suppose it must have been obvious from the look in my eyes why I was doing this. In fact, I could feel it in my eyes myself, their heat and sinister glow. I was doing this because I wanted her, because I wanted to make her feel me, feel my need and desire. I was doing it because she had the gall to make me want her this way, with hunger and anger. 

Whack!! Slap!!! Crack!! I was leaving marks now, stripes on her thighs and belly, across the mounds of her tits. It was a type of power, a type of possession, a type of punishment and an incitement to arousal all in one, bringing the blood to the surface of her skin and making her sensitive, stimulated. 

I was sweating now and so was she. The room was too hot and I went and turned down the heater, then came back and let the belt drop against her pussy and dangle there. I watched her face as I slowly dragged it over her sex.

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, trying not to feel it. Refusing to feel it.

I did it again, letting the leather fall against the moist valley between her legs and then slowly dragging it out, over her belly, watching her hips lift and her thighs flex as she tried to capture it.

"Mmmm..." I slapped the belt lightly against her pussy. "Is that good? Is that nice, baby?"

I really didn't have to ask. I could see the answer on her face. She was biting her lip now, her eyes still closed and her brow furrowed as she concentrated on the sensation, either accepting it or trying to block it out. It didn't matter what she did, really, because she couldn't deny the crudeness and obscenity of what I was doing. It was rude, insulting, exciting and degrading all at the same time, whipping her pussy with my belt.

I moved down near the foot of the bed to get a better angle, and I began to thwack the folded belt against her swollen labia, steady, rhythmically, watching her stomach muscles flex and thighs tighten as her wrists and feet twisted in the bonds.

"Oh God!" she moaned. "Oh God I don't believe this! I don't believe this! Peter! Peter!!"

 Whap!! Smack!! Slap!! Whack!! 

It was terrible, delicious, sick, suggestive. She loved it; she wanted it. She lifted her ass from the bed seeking the belt, exposing herself to it, while at the same time her face was clamped shut in a look of total denial and disbelief. She looked as if she were no longer in control of her body, that it had taken over and it wanted the belt, the punishment, the surrender, without regard for what she wanted, and it wanted it desperately. 

I saw her climb towards orgasm, saw her open her mouth wide to breathe. and screw her eyes shut against the intense and shameful pleasure that was looming over her. I saw her thighs tremble with the strain and her stomach pull tight and quiver. Her fingers wrapped around the chains and pulled, pulled as her entire body clenched tight like a spring, ready to explode. 

She stayed like that for a second, for maybe two seconds as she fought to contain the wave of excruciating pleasure, but it was all too much, too much, and she couldn't resist. The orgasm rolled over her like a physical wave, and she heaved her body off the bed, reaching for it, reaching for that terrible pleasure. I thought she was going to scream but she bit it back, choked it back, shaking her head in denial and disbelief as he hair whipped her face and the vicious ecstasy seemed to rip her apart and throw her aside, showing her no respect and leaving her no dignity.

I stood there with the belt, high on the cruelty and savagery of what I was doing, watching her, amazed. She'd never been so responsive, so wild and unrestrained, and it drove me crazy, made me nuts. I dropped the belt and undid my pants, shoved them and my shorts down together and stood by the bed hard and aching, my cock throbbing with each beat of my heart. I knew she might be unbearably sensitive after an orgasm like that, but I was on fire for her and near climax myself. I climbed on the bed and got between her legs.

I didn't even wait. I didn't even tease. No caresses, no words, just me on my knees, falling over her and catching myself on one arm while I grabbed my cock with the other hand and placed the head against the swollen lips of her pussy.

Lena was panting, moaning, her pussy was hot and sticky, pursed like a lover's lips, I pushed forward and the head of my cock wedged into her, splitting her open, her labia clinging to me and stretching to accommodate my cock. I pushed the head in and felt the tightness of her sheath, the semi-cartilaginous muscle that guarded her entrance. I pushed, putting my weight on my cock and the muscle stretched, dilated, and then slid smoothly up the stalk of my cock as Lena arched her back in a sudden spasm of pain.

"Oh God!" she cried. "That hurts! It hurts!"

"Okay. Okay. I'll take it slow. Relax. Just relax. Get used to it. It'll stop hurting. Just relax."

I reached up and brushed her hair from her face so I could see her. Her lips were swollen, eyes closed, nostrils flared as she panted for breath. Below, halfway into her, my overexcited cock jerked in pre-ejaculatory spasms, which I just managed to control. But I could feel her muscles relaxing, accepting me, adjusting to me.

Lena smiled weakly. "God! I can feel that! Did you do that? I can feel you inside me."

"Yeah," I said. "That's the idea."

She smiled again and looked at me. "Oh yeah? So that's what this is about?"

Wise-ass to the end.

"Ready?" I asked, and she nodded.

I pushed again, pushed, and felt her tissues open, her pussy expand and admit me as a welcome stranger, an inaugural guest. She waited till I had it all inside her, and then I felt her hips lift and push tentatively against me. 

"Is that it? Is that all of it?"

"That's all of it."

"Oh God, that's good! Oh my god, that's so good!"

I pushed with my hips and let myself down on top of her, resting my weight on my elbows on either side of her head. I opened my mouth and covered her lips with mine, and she was immediately there, opening in response, tongue finding mine and caressing it eagerly. I kept myself still, wanting her to get used to the feel of my cock, but even as we kissed her hips were lifting up to absorb me, rocking slightly to move me around inside her, testing the possibilities. She broke the kiss and turned her face to the side to breathe through her open mouth and started moving in earnest now, grinding her pussy up against me straining for more.

She was tied down and could hardly move but she did her best, until finally I decided the time was right and pulled my cock partway out of her then slid it back in.

"Oh yes!" she hissed. "That's it! That's what I want."

"You want me to untie you?"

"No, no! I love it like this. I love being held open like this. Just fuck me. Give it to me."

So I did. I lifted my ass and pulled my cock partway out, then slid it back in. She moaned with a rush of escaping air, but the moan was only partly discomfort, partly something else.

I did it again, and this time the sound she made was that of a woman getting fucked--pleasure, relief, astonishment that anything could feel so good. I felt her hips lift within the limited confines allowed by the bonds.

"Oh God, Peter! This is it. Harder! Harder!" She grabbed onto the straps and pulled, her arms flexing. She had to know she was tied down, that there was no escape.

Her words set me on fire and I knew now that there was nothing to hold back, there was no problem, no trauma that had to be addressed, no tender spots to be avoided. The pleasure she took n being tied was simple and universal, the urge to be restrained during sex, to be taken and controlled and overpowered by desire. It was the inward-falling mountain, the darkness of yin, the surging and moon-dappled rush of the river in flood.

The bed creaked as I fucked her and she pulled at her bonds, spread wide for me and defenseless, offering me everything and holding nothing back, and the sound of rain on the roof was joined by our hard and labored breathing as I worked myself off inside her, hands clutching her ass and pulling her up to me, mouthing her breasts, oblivious to everything but the pulse of her body beneath me.

At some point I put my hand down there, an awkward angle but I wanted to feel the cylinder of my prick going into her. I must have stimulated her clit, because suddenly her cries took on a fervent urgency and she turned her head and sunk her teeth into my shoulder.

"Harder, Lena! Harder! Show me what it makes you feel like! Show me how it feels!"

I felt her teeth dig in, her jaw shudder with the strain. The pain knifed down my arm and spine and set off the obliterating rush of pleasure that triggered orgasm, and suddenly I was pushing deep into her, pulling her hips up to me and groaning: "Coming! Coming! Oh God, baby! Here it is! Here! Here! Here!"

I managed to lift myself off her and push her hair out of the way so I could see her face as I came inside her, the look of pleasure, pride, and completion as she felt my cock throb with each ejaculation. It was a deep, desperate, and delicious release, each slug of cum leaving my cock like a charge of molten metal, burning with life and saturated with my essence, cast into her furnace with helpless abandon and pure love.

And as Lena felt me cum and pushed her hips up at me to take my seed and meet her own shattering orgasm, I saw her look of bliss turn into a smile, a smile of relief, triumph, and acceptance. A smile of victory and surrender and peace deep as a river.