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Fantasy For Emma Ch. 01

By: livingjukebox



My dearest Emma,

What you are about to read was written for another. Sometime ago I read a contact ad written by a woman who was advertising as a submissive. She asked for a fantasy. Over a period of days and weeks the attached document was written in a blur of passion, orgasm and heated, feverish mind-bending.

I finished the fantasy, but it was never sent. Too much time had passed. The woman had passed from my mind. The ad was ancient. But the work was completed.

Now, I am handing it on to you.

Beware.

It is hot. It is steamy. It is dirty. It is sexy. It is perverse.

The fantasy, which was once for another, is now for you.

As such I request that you keep it private.

You know that I have a deep lust, yeah a deep love, for you. You know that I wish to administer to every curve of your succulent body. You know that I want to suck you to orgasm, after orgasm, after repeated orgasm. You know I want to bury myself in the warm enfolding depths of your being. You know I want you to CUM. And you know how I want to CUM with you. Oh, how I want to CUM with you.

Know this . . .

And read on.

And enjoy

Enjoy to the very core of your lovely, dirty, sexy, steamy and, dare I say it, perverse mind.

The fantasy is now yours. 

And YOU are THE FANTASY.

AJD

NOW READ ON

My dear love child,

How demanding you are for one who expresses a desire to be submissive! It is obvious that you need a controlling hand that can teach you that your body and mind belong not to you, but to the person to whom you submit. And you will submit to me.

You ask that your fantasy should be made a reality. That will be done, but only after I have provided you with a little more fantasy to wet your appetite and to make your cunt juices run freely and copiously.

Before you read further, here are my first instructions for you

.

1.

Go to your bedroom, remove all your clothing, except for your bra, panties and a pair of silk stockings. Remember that once we start our journey on this sexual adventure these are the only items of clothing you will be allowed to wear when we are alone together. However, should we go out in public you will not be allowed to wear any panties; I will require full access to your body at all times.

2.

Close the curtains, turn on a soft, warm light and lie down on the bed with your head propped against a pillow. You must be able to see and touch your tits, your belly, your thighs and your cunt.

3.

Do not hesitate in pleasuring yourself while reading the rest of this letter. This will be the last time you will be in full control of your own body. 

Take this opportunity to stroke, fondle and squeeze your sexually aching tits. Pinch your nipples till they become engorged, erect and hard, hard enough to scratch the palm of your hand. Trail your manicured fingernails over your belly and thighs. Rub your clit till you are wet and open and your body takes over from your mind.

As you start to come, do NOT cease in pleasuring your own body. Your cunt will now be wide open; push your fingers into your cunt and imagine that it is my hard, rampant cock (the cock that you will come to worship) that is plunging firmly into your cunt, satisfying your need.

Remember, this is the last time you will be allowed to take control of your own body without my permission.

From now on your tits are mine, to treat as I see fit. If I wish to bind them in ropes till they are sore and aching that is mine to do. If I wish to caress them with silk that is also mine to do. Your swollen nipples, which give away your unfulfilled sexual desires, are mine. I will suck them, bite them, beat them with my cock. I will give them my fullest attention.

Your lips are mine. When ordered you will kiss my lips, my body and my feet. You will open your lips to receive my throbbing cock and you will suck it till I spurt come down your throat. If you refuse you will be punished.

Your cunt is mine. I will fuck you for my own pleasure or, if the whim takes me, to make you scream with lust and desire. You will keep your pubic hairs neatly trimmed and your fuck hole must be ALWAYS open and ready for my access.

Again, YOUR BODY IS MINE; you will offer it to me and I will accept your submission as the plaything you are to become.

Now you are ready to fantasise. For now I will call you Emma. This will now be your slave name. So, Emma, lie on the bed, do as you have been ordered, fuck your cunt with your fingers and let your imagination be your reality 

It is early afternoon and Emma's body is quivering with anticipation. She has no idea what will happen to her today; no idea what will take place in the quiet seclusion of her own home.

All that she knows is that in a few minutes she will be flirting with danger. She will be consumed by lust. She will become the sexual tool for someone she has only ever contacted by mail. True, the letters were rich and ripe with sexual demands and wishes. True, the letters added reality to desires that had previously only been part other thoughts and dreams.

But soon, her once idle thoughts are to translated into actions of lust and depravity. She is about to submit herself to another, to give up any freedoms she had over the use of her swelling, burgeoning body. She shivers with delightful anticipation.

For a moment the anticipation becomes almost too much. Her hand strays to the open neckline of the crisp, white blouse she has been ordered to wear.

It would be so easy to give in to her desires. There is no one here to stop her cupping her full breasts in her aching hands; no one here to stop her fingers slipping into the cups of the brief, black, lacy bra that enfolds her swelling tits. Who would know if she pinched her nipples till they became hard and erect?

Who would know if her hands strayed beneath the brevity of her form-fitting, crimson skirt, almost formal in its cut and design, but rendered wanton by the slit which rises from the hem to the near top of the thigh? Who would know if her fingers strayed into the area of joy that hid between the top of her thighs.

Who would know if she spread the juices from her already awakening cunt over her fingers? It would be easy to lift that glistening hand to her mouth and suck the musky, honeyed juices from her dark red nails, savouring the saltiness; absorbing the very centre of her being. It would be easy . . . 

Almost mindlessly her hands pass over her body. Her tits heave as she catches her breath. Then, Emma remembers what HE had said.

The instructions were precise, controlling - "From now on you will only come when you are told to come," HE had written. "Do not think that because I am not present I do not know what is going through your mind. I will know where your hands have wandered. I will know when your mind has given in to your body. I will know when your fingers have caressed the dark, warm recesses of your aching cunt. I will know when you have come."

The words almost shouted from the page. "From this moment you have no rights. You can no longer act like a bitch in heat, giving way to your inner desires. Your only desire will be to serve me; to offer your body to MY needs; to come only when ordered. And if you should come without my permission, you will be punished and punished severely."

For one time-stopping moment Emma almost gives in to the desire of putting those words to the test. She will make herself come, now, moments before his arrival. The cloying, musky odour of her silky cunt will give her away and HE will know she has disobeyed. And HE will punish her. God, she wants him to punish her; to make her beg for discipline, to make her do whatever HE requires.

She is ready to submit to his pleasures and she knows that those pleasures will involve the outright possession and control of her body. HE will make her sob and HE will make her scream, but most of all HE will make her come. Her betraying orgasms will break her spirit, but those orgasms will also fulfil her needs. And she needs to submit.

She can hear her own breath, rasping, full of desire, as her arms hug her waist, squeezing the

very being from her body. She can't stand it any longer; she must give in..

She must move one of her hands downwards and inwards.

She must explore the wet, widening V between her firm, stockinged thighs.

She must turn those pearls of moisture that have formed on her cunt lips into a frothing,

bubbling, rich nectar.

She must form her fingers into a widening, violating pole of exploration.

She must give in to her heaving cunt.

She must give in to her hardening clit.

She must come.

She must come.

She must come.

She must . . . 

. . . pull herself back from this maelstrom of want and quieten the ringing that is echoing around her head. She calms her body, but still her mind rings shrilly: "I must stop it," she thought, "or the ringing will drive me crazy. I must stop that noise. I must . . . "

It is then she realises that the ringing is not her part of her imagination. It is not the result of her overactive, over-stimulated mind. The ringing comes from her front door. The waiting is over.

Her master has arrived.

* * * * * * * * * *

Later, as Emma lay naked on the bed, her face pressed into the pillow, her hair wild and fanning around her head, her body aching but satiated, she reflected on how quickly it had all started and how long, how satisfyingly long, it had taken for that first time to be complete.

She had pulled herself back from her sexual reverie and, with a slight stagger, accentuated by the high heels she had chosen to wear, she strode towards the door. In her excitement she almost flung the door open. Then, at the last moment, she managed to control herself and eased it open, just wide enough to reveal the full curves of her body to the man who stood there.

"Emma." It was a statement, not a question. This man was in control of himself and ready to control her.

"Yes, " Emma replied. She had intended her answer to be equally as firm, but her anticipation turned her voice into an inward, breathy whisper.

HE smiled.

It was a friendly smile. It was a knowing smile.

But, most of all, it was a controlling smile.

"You are new to this," HE said, "but you will learn. You will learn."

For a moment she wondered what HE meant and then it came back to her. She had been told that she would no longer control her desires. She was the submissive, HE was here to control her body and her mind.

HE was here to teach her to be a slave.

An anticipatory shiver of need swept across her being.

"Yes . . . " She paused. "Yes . . . master."

HE smiled again.

"You learn quickly. You will make a fine pupil."

HE pushed against the door and strode past her, indicating with a dismissive nod of his head that she should close them off from the outside world.

"And an even finer slave."

Emma followed his unspoken order. The click of the door bolt as it locked in place sounded like a gunshot in her ears. They were now alone, cut off from prying eyes, and Emma knew that anything could, and would, happen to her.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

It was almost as if HE was reading her mind.

"What we start today will be intense, but satisfying, for you as well as for me. There will be times when you will want the pleasure to stop. There will be times when you want the pain to stop.

At these times you should remember two things.

Firstly, I know what you need and I will never take you beyond those needs. And, secondly, you are only awakening to your needs.

Your mind may tell you that it can take no more, but your body language will give you away. I know what you need, and I will not stop until your needs have been fulfilled.

I will take you to a point where you want time to stop so you can indulge yourself in the pleasure and pain.

I WILL control your every desire. And YOU will submit to my every demand."

For a second, Emma wanted to run, to escape from what was to come, but her legs refused to respond, rooted to the spot, and . . .

"You are ready" (it was a statement with no hint of a question) 

. . . then it was too late.

One moment HE stood before her, breaking her will with his eyes. 

The next HE was pressed close behind her, his breath playing on her neck . . . 

Yes, oh yes, this is what she wanted

. . . his hardening cock pressing into the deep, rounded cleft of her buttocks.

It was happening now, right now, and there was nothing she could do, even wanted to do, to stop it.

Briefly his arms entwined around her waist, holding her gently, holding her firmly. 

Emma whispered; "Yes, master, I am ready. Yes. Oh, yes." Her submission acted as a signal to him and from that point everything turned into a blur of want and satisfaction.

Suddenly . . . 

His hands rose from her waist and gripped the lapels of her blouse.

Suddenly . . . 

HE pulled outwards.

There was the sound of ripping silk fabric and pearl buttons popped from their anchorage and clattered on the wooden floor.

She leaned back against him, shocked, surprised, ecstatic. Her breasts, moulded by the half-cups of her uplift bra, heaved with a desire that engulfed her.

Her areolae, brown and round, surrounding the nubs of her gorgeous nipples, puckered into tiny goose-bumps, apparently declaring some element of fear, but in reality revealing her need, her want, her pleasure.

Suddenly . . . 

Again the rending of cloth as HE ripped her bra apart, letting it fall to the floor. Released from their restraint, Emma's tits almost leapt forward in a bid for freedom. She knew how gorgeous they were. Hadn't she caressed them often enough as she forced herself to climax?

But her master's reaction told her that these firm, thrusting mounds, surmounted by the tiny, thrusting peaks of her puckered nipples were something special.

As his hands slipped under the slight overhang of her jutting tit-flesh HE murmured into her ear, "Very good, very good. You have maintained your body well, Emma. I shall enjoy manipulating these," (HE cupped her swelling orbs from underneath), "I shall enjoy breaking their spirit."

The menace in his voice forced a shiver of fear down Emma's spine. A bead of sweat ran from her neck, disappearing into cleft of the deep valley between the tetons of her throbbing, wanting breasts.

"You are too proud of these," HE said, cupping her warm globes in both hands. "Later, it will be necessary to break that pride and punish these objects of your pride. Don't you agree? Slave."

Emma nodded her head and softly, fearfully mouthed, "Whatever you wish to do to me will be for my own good."

And she suddenly realised that now there was no turning back. Whatever HE wanted to do to her she would accept it would joyfully.

And HE knew that she would give in to him and to the fulfilment of her wildest dreams.

Now, his hands enfolded her exposed, unprotected tits.

Now, HE was stroking them, caressing them, giving them the stimulation she desired. Now, HE allowed her hard, pointing nipples to slip between his second and third fingers. Now, . . . now . . . Emma felt her pleasure rising as his hands possessed her, stimulating her heated, heaving, swelling globes of flesh. "Now," she thought, drifting downwards into lustful passion, "Now. I must come now."

And again HE read her mind, gauging the pulse emanating from her body. 

"Not now slave. NOT now, Emma. It is too soon.

And I have not given you permission to come.

Remember, you come when I tell you to come and ONLY when I tell you to come." Swinging her round, HE kissed her fully and forcefully on the lips.

"It is time to prepare you for your initiation."

Briefly, she felt his erect cock, this time pushing through the cloth of his trousers against her stockinged thigh. Then she gasped at his self-control and the ferocity of his actions. Gripping the nubbins of her nipples between thumb and forefinger, HE pulled her body, tits strained and extended, forwards, forwards, forwards into the main body of the house.

Emma almost screamed, as she teetered after him, her tits stretching with unimaginable elasticity. Only the fact that she knew that this was the lower limit of the pain she was to experience, the mere start of the pleasure that was to be offered to her, prevented her from shattering the calmness with the ruptured shriek of her voice.

Tripping on her spiked heels she almost fell to floor on her knees. Only the forward rush, her tits extending further and further as HE dragged her deeper into the house, helped her keep her balance for just long enough.

Just long enough for her to endure the throbbing pain in her teats as HE pinched harder to maintain his grip.

Just long enough for her to endure the constant flow of torment as she felt her boobs pull further and further away from her body.

Just long enough for them both, master and submissive, to reach a large glass-topped table that dominated the centre of the room.

Forcefully, HE threw her, face down, on to the glass top, releasing the grip on her throbbing nipples. Her tits slapped and spread as they bounced off the cooling glass, the iciness refreshing her strained boobs.

Her relief did not last long.

"You are wasting time, foolish slave", Emma heard him thunder. "Do you want me to punish you now?

Do you want me to postpone the pleasure that I have been promising you?" "Please master, no," Emma heard herself beg.

"Please, master. Please let me be pleasured, so that I can endure the punishment I so desire. "

HE laughed. "You are mistaken, child, if you feel you can withstand the punishment I am going to give you. You will beg for release, you will scream with torment, you will faint with pleasure. But you will not endure."

His laugh turned to coldness. "However, I need to possess your body to control your soul, so first the pleasure. Slowly." Emma's whole being thrilled at the prospect, but she knew better than to voice her needs.

"How do want me, master? How shall I display myself?"

She scrambled onto the glass tabletop, pressing her face to the glass, bearing the weight of her upper torso on her bulging, spreading tits.

"Very good, slave," HE assented. "I said you would be a good pupil. Now let us both see what else you have to offer."

HE circled the table and pulled a full-length mirror in front of her, so that by lifting her head slightly she could see her prostrate body, kneeling on the glass. As she took in the provocative sight of her abasement, she became absorbed, even fascinated, by the vision of her reflected body; her ass, thrusting in the air beneath the crimson skirt; her firm thighs, slightly spread to hold the weight of her lower torso. So enthralled was she by the sight of herself; offered as a kneeling sacrifice to her master, that the added reflection in the mirror took her by complete surprise.

* * * * * * * *

In her justified reverie over her abased, but erogenous body, Emma had failed to notice that I had removed my clothing. Now I stood, erect behind her, totally nude save for a wide leather metal-studded belt around my waist. Some masters wear leather masks to hide their faces from their slaves. I had no need of such fancies.

Control is maintained over the submissive subject if they are able to see every expression of the person who guides their every action. I stood there taking in her rounded curves, reflecting on her spirit and how it would soon be broken.

Everything was going as planned.

This daring woman, who had bravely offered herself to a stranger, was soon to be broken to the point where any demand would be obeyed.

But first she had to be made to realise that this relationship was about pleasure as well as dominance. By offering her pleasure now she would begin trust me and then, and only then, could I break her disobedient streak.


Fantasy For Emma Ch. 01



The thought of breaking this butterfly reached down into my loins and my semi-erect cock jerked as it began to gorge itself with blood and reach a full, extended erection. Slowly, but surely, my prick became ready to fill every hole in my slave's body.

Stepping forward, I placed my hands on Emma's stockinged thighs, and slid them over the stay-high tops, over the coolness of her uncovered thighs, to the studded fastening of her short, slit skirt. It was an easy job to pop the studs.

The skirt fell from Emma's hips and slid onto the floor. Now, save for the stockings, her high-heeled shoes and her panties, my slave was naked to my eyes, ready to give me pleasure and in return receive pleasure herself.

The panties were cut high, the thong that covered her now sopping cunt stretching tight between her legs, cutting deep into the cleft between her half-moon buttocks. Emma knew how desirable she looked, almost totally open to my gaze. Despite the ache that still throbbed through her nipples, she unconsciously pushed up her ass offering her rounded, white and gleaming ass-cheeks for my approval.

I smiled and then said sternly "We will attend to those later." Emma knew what I meant. She knew that when I decided to deal with her ass there would be pain.

Pain was something that she had dreamt about, a discipline she desired and she now knew that she would let me do exactly as I wanted to her body. She had no choice. Just as she had no choice as to when I allowed her to come. And the time for her to come was now.

It is about to begin.

* * * * * * * *

It begins.

HE places his hands on my hips.

There is a rending sound as HE wrenches my panties from my body.

Now I am open, offering my every orifice to my master.

("Please make me come.") A thought. It is not my place to ask for pleasure.

His hands encompass the twin globes of my buttocks.

HE squeezes, firmly, possessively.

His fingers trail across my ass-cheeks and insinuate themselves into the crevice between myswelling globes.

Slowly . . . 

HE moves his fingers downward towards my puckering, delicate ass-hole.

("Not there. Please not there.") Again, a thought.

HE hesitates over the star-shaped, winking rose that is the dimpled rear opening of my offered body.

("Not there. Nobody has done it there. I couldn't stand it if you took me there.") These thoughts are coming faster. They are more uncontrollable;

His fingers move on.

("Don't leave my ass. Please take me there. Fuck my ass. Please.")

HE reaches my cunt.

My wet, streaming, sopping cunt.

My open, naked, begging cunt.

My bald, enticing SHAVED cunt.

I did as HE asked.

I removed every hair from my body, save for my head.

("Will that come later. Will HE use my denuded scalp as a place to satisfy his pleasure. I would do it. For him. ")

("Make me come, master. Make me come.") Can HE read my mind? HE reaches my shaved, pouting, sopping cunt.

The broad lips of my slit push forward . . . 

("Like the whore that I am, begging to be kissed. Kiss me there, master. Push your tongue inside me.")

"I will shave you daily." ("Slice me with your razor. Make my pussy come red. I am your slave. Do as you will. Make me come.")

"Now offer me your cunt, Emma. Open your cunt to me, slave."

("It is your cunt, master. My body is yours. Fill me master. Fill my cunt")

"Take your hands and offer me your cunt. It is time to take it as mine." HE can read my mind. 

I reach under my belly.

Between my treacherous; gaping thighs. 

I pull on my cunt lips.

I ease them apart.

I offer him the core of my body.

As if held by a dam, my juices flow down my thighs, soaking my stockings.

I am pink.

I am open.

The buds of my pussy enfold, presenting a churning, bubbling well of desire.

("Take my cunt, master. I am your slave. My cunt is your slave. Make me come.")

And his finger . . . 

Smoothly . . . 

Firmly . . . 

Ravishingly . . . 

Slides into the open hole that I have just presented to him.

"Aaaahhhhh." This time voiced. It is too difficult to hold back the pleasure. 

"You cannot come until I give you permission."

"Yes, master."

"If you start to come before I pronounce you ready I will stop." 

"Please, master. No, master. Please make me come."

His free hand descends with lightening speed. 

It crashes against my upturned ass.

For the first time, I scream.

"Ayeeeeyeeee"

"You are nothing but a slave. A series of holes for my pleasure." 

Thwack!

Once more, his free hand slaps against my ass-cheeks. I moan.

My ass is on fire.

Thwack!

"You're hurting me master."

"Yes. You disobeyed. And if you disobey everything will stop. Even this."

Thwack!

And I moan.

And my ass erupts in fire.

And I moan.

And I beg.

I beg him to continue to beat my ass.

I beg for the pain to increase.

Because HE is my master HE can bend me to his will.

Because HE is my master HE can make me moan.

Because HE is my master HE can make me scream.

HE is right, because HE is my master.

There is no pleasure without pain.

There is no pain that does not give pleasure.

The only real pain is not receiving pleasure.

And thwack!

And thwack!

And . . . 

HE leans forward.

His tongue invades my pussy.

("Yes, oh, yes, oh, yes.") If I do not speak what I feel perhaps he will let me . . . 

("Let me come master, let me come.")

"Yes."

His finger, still inside my crack, pushes inwards. 

His tongue swirls around my cunt lips. 

"Yes. Aaaah. Yes."

His finger is joined by a second. 

They push deeper.

My cunt sucks and swallows, the pussy juices pulling his fingers further into my depths. 

His lips press against my cunt lips.

His tongue rolls my musky wetness around his mouth and about my naked twat, bared for this moment; prepared for his pleasure.

Three fingers impale my cunt.

They move faster.

They move deeper.

And his tongue lingers on my cunt-lips.

And moves upwards.

And swirls across the hood of my clit.

My clit, a miniature twin of my engorged nipples,

Hard, expansive, swelling with the blood of desire.

My nipples push down into the glass table.

My clit pushes up into his mouth.

And his fingers push further into the rich, lush depths of my cunt.

His lips suck on my clit, making it harder, arousing it like a tiny, exquisite, pearly cock.

His lips grip my clit and I push my hips backwards, trying to flick his mouth with my ever-swelling love-button.

And his fingers push forward and deeper and forward and deeper.

My cunt is ready to explode.

("I want to come. Please make me come. I must NOT come. Please let me come.")

Every nerve ending in my cunt is tingling.

My tits, swelling, mounted by tight, firm nipples, pushed flat against the glass as swept by passion I press myself against the table, feel ready to explode.

("Oh God, my tits feel as if they're full with milk Make them bubble. Master, please master, make me come.")

My tits are ready to come. (They heave and swell, and flatten and throb as I press downwards.)

My clit is ready to come. (His lips worry its fullness, urging it to erupt in wet, honeyed silken slime.)

My cunt is ready to come. (The little finger has joined the other three and they probe, and push and swill the wetness of my pussy into a juicy, boiling pudding of love secretions.) But my master is not ready for me to come.

I beg . . . 

"Please"

"Soon"

Desire turns to blur. 

Blur turns to desire. 

Desire turns to lust. 

Lust turns to madness.

And the fingers press deeper into my cunt. 

And my clit starts to radiate heat. 

And the fingers draw back to limits of my cunt. 

And my clit, my tits, my nipples swell. 

His fingers push inwards . . . 

Pull outwards . . . 

Inwards . . . outwards . . . inwards . . . outwards.

My cunt feels as though it is impaled on a piston rod of human flesh. 

My clit . . . ("Suck me, suck me")

My tits . . . ("Squeeze me, squeeze me") 

My nips . . . ("Bite me, bite me") 

My cunt . . . ("Fill me, fill me.")

Clit . . . suck me . . . tits . . . squeeze me . . . nipples. . . bite me . . . cunt . . . fill me . . . Suck/clit/cunt/bite/nips/fill/make/tits/cunt/squeeze/me/

cunt/cunt/fill/bite/me/tits/nips/tits/cunt/clit/me/make/me/ 

coooooooommmmme

Sweat beads and boils in the small of my back.

("I can not stand it much more. This desire will kill me. This need will drive me mad. Maaaaster. Pleease. Let me come.")

He can read my mind.

"Emma"

"Oh yeeeesss! Fuck me master. Suck Clit. Cunt. Fill."

In my madness of want I can no longer contain my thoughts. My submissive need forces me thoughts to burst into words and my words rattle outwards as my lust consumes my body.

"Emma"

I must answer. I push out words between uncontrollable gulps of breath.

"Yes . . . huh, huh, huh . . . master."

My cunt is on fire.

I can feel my clit ready to explode.

"What must you not do, Emma?"

"I . . . fill me . . . must . . . fuck me . . . not . . . beat me . . . come, master. My cunt is yours, my clit is yours, my body is yours. I . . . oooh . . . aaah . . . must . . . "

And in my fever I realise the truth, the converse of my denial.

" . . . come . . . "

From my moist, sucking, wet, heaving cunt. 

From my stretched, musky, violated cunt lips. 

From my shiny, pushing, delicate, hardening clit.

" . . . aaaaaah . . . only . . . when . . . you . . . order . . . me . . . to, master."

"Then I order . . . "

His words sound as though they are coming from the end of a long, long tunnel, and as the truth slowly dawns . . . 

"I'm coming . . . yes, oh yes, yes, please master, please . . . "

. . . everything that had gone before becomes insignificant.

My master's lips give way to his teeth, which gnaw and chatter on my pulsating clitoris..

My master's free hand squeezes my ass-cheeks, leaving glorious indentations on my magnificent globes.

My master's thumb slips effortlessly into my cunt.

I am impaled on his fist.

" . . . you . . . "

His fist unfurls and caresses the walls of my cunt. 

I am going to die with pleasure.

" . . . to . . ."

And as his fist pushes against my cervix.

And as his teeth bite down on my clit.

And as his free hand slams against my upturned ass-cheeks.

" . . . CUM . . ."

I obey.

I CUM from my swollen, red, engorged nipples.

My flattened tits swell and heave and become ajelly of uncontrolled flesh.

I CUM from my red-hot, totally filled cunt and my cunt juices flow down his arm and cover my quivering thighs with wet, sweet-smelling, sticky female jism.

I push my poor ass up higher so that the tattoo of his spanking and my yelps of pleasure at this punishment become fiercer and more intense.

I CUM from my quivering clit

I CUM and I CUM and I CUM, and as I CUM I thank the man who gave me this orgasm of delight.

"Yes, master, yes master, yes."

As I let myself submit ("Did I ever come this hard, before? Will I ever come this hard again?") to the stormy rush of my body's lurches of outright pleasure and the flood of wetness pouring from my cunt, I suddenly realise that this only the start.


This sexual madness, this beauty of his control and my possession, the slavery that I am now accepting with such need and delight

The submission of Emma, MY submission . . . 

Has only just begun.

* * * * * * * *

As she came Emma suddenly realised it had only just begun.

The rapidity with which it continued surprised even her. Succumbing to her explosive orgasms, she fell back into the recesses of her mind, and let the multiple attacks on her body carry on in the background.

Her fist-filled cunt sucked and slurped on her master's arm. Her clit vibrated and shook. But she was too absorbed in her body's pleasures to note the changes immediately. As she drifted out of come induced unconsciousness and recovered from her first wave of orgasms, Emma raised her head slightly and gasped as she realised that her master was not going to allow her any rest.

In her need for satisfaction, her need to be possessed the ravaged woman realised that she had overlooked a whole series of sex-toys the master placed on the table beside her. But she could not overlook them now.

Seeing HE had her attention, the master let a demonic smile pass over his face and held up one of the objects. In the mirror's reflection Emma saw that it was a large phallus shaped dildo, carved from ivory in the shape of an enormous cock. Its head was bulbous and swollen. The twelve inches of its length made Emma shiver with fear, but it was the width and decor of the dildo that really dismayed her. It was at least twice as round as her master's arm and was studded along its entire width and length with raised silver studs.

With a sucking sound her master pulled his arm from her cunt and for a moment Emma felt empty and desolate. The feeling was short lived. Raising the dildo on high, the master swung it down and inwards towards the tender lips of her already ravaged cunt. Even before the gigantic phallus had touched her puffy, sensitive, hairless cunt-lips Emma screamed. "No master," she yelped, "I'll be split in two. I can't take it." Then, with a rush, the dildo pushed its way inwards, pushing her cunt-lips aside, and burying itself in her sopping cunt. Her cunt opened wider and wider and a line of stubs scraped against her sensitive, reddened clit.

She screamed again, this time from the pressures on her cunt-flaps and her vagina walls, as the dildo was forced deeper and deeper into her cunt.

"No," she begged, "It's too much. No. Please. No."

The master sneered at her. "You have had your pleasure, slave. It is now time to submit to pain. And need I remind you that to submit to pain is your pleasure. That is what submission means." Emma had no choice. She had to absorb the pain that wracked her wet, ballooning. cunt. With muted screams she felt the dildo rub her silken vagina walls and matched her pleas to the rhythm of the pressure. She was so overtaken by dealing with the torture that she hardly noticed the expansion of another orgasm rising from deep within her, and besides the master had other plans for her.

Next, HE picked up a crystal carafe, turned it upside-down and then, returning the carafe to its normal state, HE pulled a wide stopper fr6m its neck. HE trailed the stopper from the base of Emma's spine, through the fleshy valley created by her buttocks, leaving behind a cold shimmer of oil which trickled along the join between her ass cheeks and pooled into the gentle indentation of her puckered virgin anus. Her panic distracted her from the juggernaut of a dildo that was gradually pillaging and raping her cunt. Between grunts of pain she realised that her anus was virgin territory. No one had fucked her there, ever. But she also realised that there was little use appealing to her master.

Thus, when HE plunged a smaller, lozenge-shaped dildo made of flesh-coloured rubber through the tight sphincter of her ass, Emma made no verbal complaint. Besides, she saw how erect her master's cock had now become. It was not overlong, but it was wide and its purple head throbbed as his cock pointed high in the air. "HE could be fucking my ass, with that", she thought wryly, but then amusement turned to panic as it occurred to her that, sooner or later, his prick would be locked tightly by her virgin anal passage.. The pain of the smaller dildo soon turned to pleasure as it insinuated itself in her colon and the pleasure increased as the whole thing began to vibrate, stimulating her anus.

Slowly, very slowly, Emma's screams of pain gave way to moans of satisfaction. The vibrator buzzed against her colon walls and she could feel the pressure of the dildo pushing against the thin membrane that separated cunt and rectum.

The master gazed at her with an air of desire mixed with the knowledge of a teacher whose pupil still has much to learn. "It would be easy for this slave to become too complacent. Time to take her a step further." Effortlessly, HE hoisted himself onto the glass table, pulled Emma's knees backwards so that she collapsed onto her stomach. HE rolled her over on her back. Her tits spread outwards and her nipples pointed upwards.

"Time to submit to me further" HE said and laughed as fear, adoration and desire flashed across Emma's lovely face in quick succession. "Time for more discipline. Time for more pleasure. Time for more pain."

* * * * * * * *

HE has filled my holes again. 

My cunt is speared by a black dildo.

The vibrator up my ass churns my stomach as the shaking vibrates my rectal walls. 

I'm on my back, now, staring up at his engorged cock as HE stands astride me, naked. Will HE allow a request? Doubtful, but I can but try.

"Master?"

"Slave?"

"Fuck my cunt, master . . . please . . .I beg you."

"Impertinent woman. If you ask for nothing you will get nothing. If you ask for pleasure you will get pain."

HE squats over my stomach and produces a thick, white candle from the toys laid out beside me.

As HE lights the candle, the wick splutters and then ignites, filling the darkened room with ghostly, dancing shadows

HE places the flickering votary adjacent to my breasts.

On the wall I can see their outline, the heave of my sloping curves surmounted by beckoning, beseeching paps.

The rise and fall of my tits betray my trepidation. 

("What is HE going to do? Is HE . . . " 

My questioning thoughts are rudely interrupted. 

My master raises the candle.

HE holds it level with my tits. 

And tilts it from the vertical. 

Now I understand.

Melted wax from the heat of the flame dribbles off the candle and . . . 

Drip

"Aiyeeeeee." My scream is long and shrill.

A hot, searing drop of wax falls on my areola and the heat flashes through my betraying tit. 

As the wax cools, the pain recedes, but not for long.

Drip. "Aiyeeeeeeeee."

My understanding turns to madness.

The dripping wax cools quickly, but the speed of the drips increase. 

Drip. ("Please no, I shall die from the pain.") "Aiiiiyeeeeeee." 

Drip. ("Mercy, master, mercy.")

My scream wells from my sobbing throat. 

The centre of my tit feels on fire.

Drip. My scream wells. ("My tit. My gorgeous tit. What is HE doing to it?")

Drip. Splatter. ("My tiiiiiiittttt.") "Aiiiiyeeeeeee."

The mantra of pain and fear drives me to the edge of my mind . . .

And the dripping stops.

And I lie there.

Tits heaving madly.

Recently hot wax, now cooling to a thin, waxen varnish, gathers in a circle on the centre of my full, budding, tit-flesh.

Nothing can distract me from the memory of the pain. 

Nothing.

And HE turns to the other breast.

And the drips begin again. 

And the pain begins again. 

And my screams rupture the silence.

And in the mantra of heat and pain and cooling I hear my screams turn to . . . 

"Aiyeeeeee . . . oh, yessss . . . aaaahhh . . . more, master . . . yessssss . . . punish me more . . . pleeeeeaseeeeee."

HE has me now.

HE can do anything HE wants to me. 

Nothing can replace the pleasure of the pain. 

HE stops.

"Oh, no . . . master . . . I have done wrong . . . more, master, more."

HE knows.

The pain is causing pleasure and the pleasure is making me . . . 

"Emma, you may . . . "

"I'm commmmm . . . "




Fantasy For Emma Ch. 01



The first wave radiates from my tortured boobs.

The second flashes from the rear of my dildo-speared cunt and races towards my sensitive clit. 

The third ripples from my belly, along my colon, and explodes in the walls of my vibrator-filled ass-hole.

" . . . oooomiiiiing!" 

My eyes become wet. 

Tears river down my cheeks.

Tears of satisfaction. 

Tears of submission. 

Tears of desire.

And my body shakes with an explosion of orgasm.

As HE, my tormentor, my lover, my own, my very own master. 

Spills hot wax over the crinkled peak of my left nipple. 

Heat wells in the tiny sucking-hole.

Pain blasts into the centre of my tortured, accepting breast. 

And I come again.

"Ohhhhh, noooooo . . . Yes . . .Yes . . . Yesssssss."

And my right nipple swells as the candle turns it into a miniature volcano of boiling wax. Orgasms rip through my body.

And my master douses the candle, rips the wick from the centre and . . . 

"No master no . . . I can't take any m . . .ooooooore . . . "

. . . HE upends the candle and presses the boiling, bubbling end against the very point of my right nipple . . . 

"EEEEEEGHHHHHAAAAAAAGHHHHH."

My screams turn me into a liar. 

For as I scream

I push my back up from the glass table 

Heat blasts through my tumescent, betraying tit end 

Wax boils on the slopes of my tit.

And I CUM, and CUM and CUM and CUM till I can CUM no more.

* * * * * * * *

Briefly, Emma's head slumps on the table.

Sweat rolls down her forehead and pools at the base of her neck.

Her full, mature hips shudder.

Her sleek, swelling belly rises and falls.

And her holes,

Her beautiful, battered, impaled holes,

Her vibrating butt, plugged and possessed,

Her stretched, despoiled, gaping cunt, sucking and pulsating on the enormous dildo,

Her holes

Explode with pleasure.

She comes and comes and comes.

And she wants to die with pleasure.

And she wants to rest from the pleasure that consumes her whole being.

But HE will not let her.

As her body ripples through 6rgasm after orgasm,

As feminine cum seeps from the edges of her lust filled cunt,

HE will not let her rest.

HE grabs a bulb,

(un-noticed by Emma in her depraved submission).

HE straightens a tube leading from the bulb.

Emma cannot see where the tube leads.

She soon finds out.

HE pumps the bulb and the plug that has broken her virgin ass-hole starts to expand.

Her ass walls start to push outward.

Her cunt is full.

Her ass is full.

She is one gigantic, pulsating hole.

Again she . . . ("Oh my god . . . OH MY GOOOOODDDD")

CUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMS!!!!

She cannot come again.

Can she?

HE knows she will.

HE smoothly grabs a bottle.

And drenches her breasts in perfumed, musky oil.

The aroma makes Emma's head reel.

("What now . . . please, master . . . what now?")

HE squats on her ribcage.

As drops of yellowish, pre-cum bead at the head of his straining, erect cock,

HE seizes her full, swelling, soft tit-flesh in both hands

And mauling them in his strong fingers,

Digging his thumbs into mounting nipples,

HE pushes the slick, oily tit mountains together.

And plunges his fat, throbbing, cock

Into the accentuated valley of her cleavage.

As HE pushes forward Emma feels the bulbous veins in his cock pulsing against the sides of her tits.

His hands dig into her tits, pushing them closer together, bruising her delicate flesh.

In her orgasm-induced madness Emma wants to help him ravage her beautiful, bold tit- flesh.

She lays her hands beside his and digs her fingers into her bouncing, bounteous tits. Inducing her own pain and pleasure she digs her finger nails into the delicate surface of her mammaries.

But HE sweeps her hands aside. 

"I can deal with this slave." 

"You have your cunt to deal with." 

Emma understands immediately.

As his cock ploughs forward between her tits . . . 

She raises her knees from the table, creating a support for his back . . .

HE squeezes her tits harder and harder . . . 

She wants to die from the throbbing mauling, but she manages to swing her legs over his shoulders . . .

His balls slap against the underside of her boobs . . . 

Her stockinged legs rest coolly against his chest . . .

His cock pushes even further forward . . . 

The spikes of her high-heels arrow towards the ceiling . . . 

And, noticing them, she realises that these are symbols of her submission.

("I am his slave, I am a cunt, I am a whore, I am a series of holes for him to fill. I am a vessel for pain, I am a receptor for his pleasure, I am a body to use, I am my master's submissive. I will come when HE tells me. And I will help him use my submission to help him come.")

Her twinned wishes stir her into motion.

In a mirror on a far wall she sees her gaping, pouting holes stuffed with the weapons of pleasure.

As twinned bodies they work together, Emma submitting, her master taking pleasure from her lust-consumed body.

She grasps the base of the black, cunt-lip mashing dildo and . . . 

She pulls it outwards . . .

HE slides his cock deeper into the valley of her tits . . .

She pushes the dildo downwards, crashing it against her anxious cervix . . . 

The head of his cock bursts from the tunnel of her bosoms and bounces against her neck . . . 

As HE starts to withdraw she pushes her tongue from her open, panting lips and sweeps it across the throbbing, purple head of his cock . . . 

And the heights of sexual madness, the lust of the possessed, the desires of the taker, rise and become a blur of speed.

She pumps the dildo fiercely in and out of her cunt.

("The silver studs rasp against my cunt walls. My clit bounces off a larger row of studs. My cunt lips puff and swell. The juices of my twat turn this black pole into a sliding, crashing battering ram. I will come and HE will come with me.")

HE scythes his cock backwards and forwards through the tunnel HE has made of her sore, proud breasts.

("My cock violates her tits. The head bounces off her neck, her chin, her lips and her outstretched, begging tongue. She is mine. She has much more to learn. But she is mine.") Cock through tit-flesh

Dildo through cunt-flesh

The speed becomes faster and faster and in Emma's lust consumed mind they blur into one.

She realises that 5 climax is rising inside her. What control she had remaining has departed from her body. As the ritual of possession nears its climax, mouthings of desire tumble from her lips, as if urging her master on to orgasm.

"MMMmmmmm . . . 

Yessssss

Cunt

Cock

Tits

Ass

MMMMMmmmmmm . . . 

Clit 

Cock 

In

Out

Cunt/cock/tits/balls/fuck me/fuck me/fuck meeeeee . . . " 

For a moment HE pauses, the head of his cock resting against her face, but she is too possessed to stop now;

Harder she plunges the dildo in out of her cunt.

Faster she batters the phallus against the bruised canyon of her welling cunt.

She swirls her tongue round the cap of his cock, accepting the pre-cum with delight and they moan together.

Harder and harder, faster and faster, hotter and hotter they perform the obscene dance of lust and submission.

As she ravages her own cunt, the stimulation from her enveloping tongue has its desired effect on his enslaving, pulsing cock.

Jerking slightly, head lifting of its own volition, a splash of white fluid jets from his cock and splashes on her face and eyes, and drizzles thickly down to her mouth.

Not pausing her in her self-inflicted dildo rape, she extends her tongue and greedily licks the remains of this first jet of white, sticky sperm from the head of his cock and swirls it across her lips, enjoying the saltiness, revelling in the heat.

She pumps her jellied cunt in a fit of sexual possession. 

In and out faster and faster

And giving her tits one last fierce squeeze . . . 

"Eeeeoooooowwwww . . . Aaaaahh . . . Hurt me master . . . Fill me master . . . Make . . . me . . . cum."

. . . HE pulls himself forward.

HE lowers his ass, feeling her nipples press into his buttocks . . . 

HE squats on her chest flattening the twin globes of bulbous titties, almost driving the breath from her body.

Emma is too filled with need to stop now.

Glancing in the mirror, the swelling of his buttocks, the globes of her flattened tit-flesh, a mountain range of desire stirs her on . . . 

As she fucks her cunt

As she opens her mouth

As HE plunges his slab of a cock through her lips and into the warm recesses of her welcoming mouth.

Her lips pout into a receptive cavern. 

Her throat opens.

Her tongue slides along his cock, relishing in the hardness, the rigid pulsing veins, the twitching throbbing crown buried in her last open hole.

And HE starts to fuck her mouth.

Emma can hardly speak as his slides in and out of her welcoming, sucking lips. 

But between muffled grunts of possession and desire she mouths her need. "MMMMMaster, all my holes, 

(She fucks the dildo in her cunt savagely) 

mmmm, my swelling ass, mmmmm, 

(She feels her back passage swell and rumble as HE increases the vibration and gives the bulb one last pump.)

mmmm, my batt . . . mmmm . . . ered . . . cunt

HE gropes behind him, finds her clit and rubs it gently but fiercely. 

mmmmmmy mmmmouth

HE plunges into the wonder of her mouth, back and forth, deeper and deeper. MMMMMMMy holes . . . "

"Are mine. They are filled and they are mine."

"And now we will come." 

Again, his cock jerks, 

Again her body explodes.

And with one last word "Do NOT swallow." 

His cock erupts

And CUM volcanoes into her mouth 

And her cunt shivers 

And her tits and nipples swell

And her ass pulses round the vibrating plug that refuses to let it close. 

Her mouth is awash with hot, sticky living jism.

She remembers his final instruction and holds it under her tongue, in her cheeks and swills it round her mouth.

The force of his come is too much for her. 

Dribbles of cum slide down her throat to her expectant belly.

But she is a good slave.

As she holds the bulk of his sperm in her mouth 

. . . Just as she was ordered . . . 

. . . Just as she desires . . . 

She plunges the phallus one last time into her expectant cunt 

And they come together.

Emma feels her senses explode as her body takes full control.

She feels her mind swirl as orgasms travel from the centre of her brain to the tips of her toes 

And she watches with amazement as HE reaches behind and down to her pulsing, flowing cunt 

Scoops the wet fluids that waterfall from her flooded vagina onto his fingers

And sucks them into his mouth 

Again and again HE repeats the action

And in an act of controlling, mastering, desiring love 

HE slides his half-erect cock from her mouth 

HE kisses her open mouth.

In return, Her lips open to accept his offering

And their liquids of orgasm join together

As they pass them from mouth to mouth.

Cunt and cock lubrications become as one.

Finally, their lips part.

They swallow

And as the joyful, sticky concoction slides down her throat

Into her acceptant, pulsing belly

Emma realises that she will do anything for this man

That from this point her will has been broken.

She is his slave

She is no longer mistress of her own body

In the joy of realisation

She comes, oh how she comes

One last time

And swoons into the dark relief of sexually induced unconsciousness.

* * * * * * * * * *

Movement brings her back from the darkness.

She feels empty, oh so empty.

HE has removed the phallus from her cunt,

The plug from her anus,

The cock from her mouth.

Her holes gape.

Her cunt heaves with longing

Her ass pulses with need

And her mouth, her sweet, silken mouth, longs to be filled again.

HE has her in his arms.

She stirs, drowsily, trying to retain the delicious, dirty, consuming pleasure of her last series of orgasms.

"The bedroom . . .?"

"Up the stairs, master."

Her aching breasts swell as she draws gasping breaths into her lungs.

"It is prepared as I requested?"

Emma nods a reply of assent.

HE climbs the stairs with her slumping body in his arms,

Walks purposefully into the high-ceilinged bedroom

And lays her gently onto the satin sheets.

She has done her job of preparation well.

The large bed has been moved to a comer of the spacious room.

In the high beams workmen have installed a hooked pulley

(She remembers their querying, amused comments as they prepared the room to her, to his, instructions.)

Flanking the pulley are a series of sturdy metal rings.

Their positions are reflected by rings screwed into the floor.

On the walls, the doors, around the window, at every level are further rings, matched by hooks.

("To retain his clothes, his . . .?")

In her state of initiation, Emma feels unable to answer her unspoken questions.

"Lie here and rest. I will return soon."

Exhausted, Emma nods her assent and HE sweeps from the room.

She is alone.

Lying there, satiated, spent, satisfied, the thrill of her recent experiences, her glorious, orgasmic, submissive experiences, parade across her mind.

She had never before been so fully possessed.

HE had controlled her belly, her ass, her cunt, her tits, her mouth.

HE had filled her very being and HE had filled her every orifice.

And yet Emma felt something missing.

She did not regret the invasion of her cunt.

She did not regret the impalement of her ass,

The throbbing, bulbous breasts,.

The aching, tortured crinkle of her nipples,

The filling of her soft, satiny mouth and lips.

She regretted none of these.

They were symbols of her enslavement.

Her delicious submission.

But her cunt ached for the presence of his lovely cock.

She needed to feel him spurt his sticky come into the very recesses of her body.

She needed him inside her.

Sprawled on the satin sheets,

Their sensuality cooling her body, but inflaming her mind

She fantasised of the taking of her sweet, silken cunt.

She visualised THAT cock plunging to her depths.

THAT cock gripped and massaged by the pulsing, flexible, clutching muscles of her cunt mouth.

THAT cock, splashing the walls of her cunt, the rear of her cunt, flooding her cunt with its boiling, sticky seed.

In her reverie she loses all sense of her surroundings.

She forgets the room.

She forgets her body.

She forgets her self.

All that she wants is satisfaction.

All that she wants is possession.

All that she wants is to have her cunt filled to the brim by his cock.

All that she wants . . . 

is

to

CUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMM!

As her body heaves, she suddenly becomes aware of the room, its contents, its occupants.

Silently, stealthily HE has slipped into the room

HE is standing beside her

She is mindlessly, unthinkingly kneading the pointing pearl of her sensitive clit.

She is shaking as an unexpected orgasm flows across her torso, her cunt.

Her clit pulses as she CUMS and CUMS.

But HE is standing beside her.

There is anger on his face.

HE is not pleased.

And Emma knows she will pay for her mindless pleasure.

Emma knows she will pay for her disobedience.

She knows she will have to accept whatever HE does to her.

She knows she will submit, willingly, to any act HE desires

So, she lies, outspread on the bed, thighs apart, tits swelling, cunt gaping, labia swelling

Waiting fearfully,

Waiting expectantly,

Waiting submissively,

Waiting for him to begin.

* * * * * * * * *

It begins, so slowly I hardly notice.

In my sexually induced foolishness I have disobeyed. 

"I'm sorry, master, so sorry. I didn't think . . . "

"You did not think."

HE sneers with exasperation.

"You did not think. Then I will have to make you think." 

His tone is cold, distant.

"Did I tell you to come?"

"No, master, no. It was an accident."

"We cannot allow . . . accidents . . . to happen, can we?"

HE pulls me upwards and indicates I should sit on the edge of the bed. 

HE kneels and removes my shoes.

From an open bag at the foot of the bed, HE removes a pair of black, fetish pumps. 

They shine and I see that the heels are at least six inches high.

HE slides them onto my feet and orders me to stand.

I can hardly balance, as the arch of the shoes forces my foot into a rollercoaster of curves. HE slides my stockings down my legs so that they well around my ankles.

My painted toes peek through the latticework of the shoes.

I want to cover my nakedness, hide my shaven pudenda, wrap my arms round my jutting breasts, but I do not dare.

Instead, I stand there, tottering, waiting for him to strike my ass, my tits, my face; to punish for disobeying his orders.

But HE has control.

And HE reaches into the bag and produces a shiny, red, moulded, leather head mask. 

A zipper runs up the side

HE pulls the mask across my face and fastens the zipper downwards.

As HE adjusts the mask, I realise that there are a number of small holes in the leather, for my ears, my nose and my eyes.

I can see, I can hear, my lips protrude through a stitched gash in the leather. 

But as HE completes the closing of the mask, fastening studs at the base of my neck, I realise that I have become totally anonymous, a naked, lustful body without a face.

As if to accentuate the experience, HE turns my head to towards a large full-length mirror on the wall.

And in my selflessness, I watch as HE squeezes my swelling tits, then massages the hood of my clit that pouts from the top of my cunt.

The message is clear.

I am a female piece of meat, (tits, legs, ass, feet, cunt and belly), but I have no identity.

I do not even have my own name.

I am Emma, submissive, slave.

A curvaceous, swelling, gaping slave, there to be flicked and sucked and . . .

. . . and what else'?

Now, HE draws clusters of objects from the bag and begins to adorn me like some perverted Christmas tree.

A leather, studded collar.

HE fastens it round my neck, tightly, constricting my breath.

A pair of leather bracelets with matching metal rings embedded in the material.

HE fastens them around my wrists.

A second set.

HE attaches them below my calves, just above the thin leather shoe strips that circle my

ankles.

HE holds every item up to my face.

Not for my approval, surely.

To strengthen my enslavement, definitely.

The ritual continues.

A wide, leather belt, ringed like everything else.

HE pulls it across my hips, drawing it firmly close.

A leather corset.

HE encircles my waist, just above my swelling belly.

The corset reaches upwards to the curved hillocks of my breasts.

As HE tightens the corset, my waist becomes narrower and narrower.

The swell of my hips and the bulging of my now elevated tits make me look like an obscene hourglass.

I'm Emma, fuck me.

Look, you can use my body to time how long it takes you to do it.

Then, HE drags me, and the bag, to the centre of the room.

I stand in front of the mirror, ashamed at my adornment, excited by my enslavement.

Next from the bag . . . 

Rope.

HE fastens my wrists together by roping the rings in the bracelets

More rope.

HE binds my wrists together.

The rope is nylon, silky, firm, but HE ties it tight so that it cuts into my arms.

More rope.

HE attaches lengths through the rings in my anklets.

HE moves to the wall and I watched horrified as HE lowers the pulley-block towards my head.

I had this installed.




Fantasy For Emma Ch. 02



My wish is granted.

"Just the vibrators first, Emma."

HE plugs the dialled boxes, attached to the wires trailing from between my splayed legs, into a pair of wall-sockets and . . . 

("JUST the vibrators. I do not understand.")

. . . twists the left-most dials on the boxes half a turn.

The imitation cocks start to buzz and shake in my well-stuffed holes.

My cunt walls transmit the tremors through the membrane to my ass and my ass passage plays back the buzz of lust back to my cunt.

I writhe with pleasure and

As I writhe I pull against my bound arms 

My bound legs

My bound, stretching nipples 

My mummified extended tits.

"No master, no.1 can't stand it."

A wave of come stretches from my cunt to my ass-hole and back again.

"Oh please master, more. Give me more."

Begging for him to stop, pleading for him to continue, I hang there straining in a frenzy of lust and fear.

"More, more, more." 

"Stop, stop, stop."

HE ignores my last request and turns the vibrators to their limits. I shake. I heave. My whole middle being turns to jelly.

As I come I scream with pleasure.

Then I scream with pain as the come wrenches my crucified body. And I scream again with pleasure

As the pole in my cunt tremors through my opening, closing fuck hole 

As the vibrations in my ass reach down to my belly

As my ripples strain against the downward force, stretching, elongating, hardening, pulling against the anchor of my areolae.

And my tits, my bound, bulbous, swelling tits flop up and down, as if possessed, 

As a searing wave of cum flows through my body.

It is only the first of many.

NOW . . . 

HE twists the second set of dials

And the large pseudo-cock starts to move back and forth in my cunt.

I strain backward trying to escape its forward action and my tits and nipples stretch as I pull against their bonds.

I push forward to ease the tension on my tit parts and my arms and legs stretch as if I was on a rack of air.

The dildo in my rear buggers my inflamed ass-hole

And again I come with a violence that puts tension on every part of my body.

I am screaming his name, screaming for him to stop, screaming for it to never end. HE smiles at my pain, my pleasure

And reaches one more time in to the bag

"One last item for your delectation, Emma."

His smile is awful.

HE holds the object up to my sweating, mewling, leather-bound face and slides it across my lips.

In the pulsations of my orgasms I am unable to focus on the object and pass my tongue, my teeth, my chattering lips across the . . . 

It tastes of leather!

And even as I orgasm, my eyes focus and my mood turns to fear.

"No master, no. Not that master. Not that. I can't take it. I . . . "

"Yes, Emma, Yes. You wished to submit. You said you would obey. This is what happens to a slave who ignores my words."

HE draws his arm back and . . . 

Crash

The whip slashes across my back

I have never known such pain. A scream explodes from my throat. I feel a weal rise where the leather has kissed my shoulder blades.

Still the dildos fuck and vibrate in my holes.

My body refuses to accept the pain searing through my back and again I

CUUUUMMMMM.

Crash

"Aiiiiyeeeee"

Crash

"AAAAAAAAH, no mast . . . "

Crash

"You're killing meeeeeeeeeeeeee . . . "

Crash

I can't escape.

I am totally bound

My body jerks as HE draws a series of lines down my back with the spitting, biting whip. 

And crack.

My body betrays me again. It surges in a wave of CUM as I shrink from the whip and

"AAH. NO. SHIT. YES. FUCK. YES. MORE. YES. MORE. YES. MOOOOOOORE."

I get more.

How could HE ignore the swelling cheeks of my luscious, rotund buttocks? 

HE doesn't.

Thhhhwack. Thhhhwack. Thhhhwack.

My tortured body lurches forward as it impotently tries to avoid the lashes criss-crossing my projecting ass cheeks.

The intensity of the blows flow through my bottom to the slender shaft ravaging my rear passage.

Its fiendish rape of my bowels transforms the searing pain of my glowing, weal-crossed spheres into grunts of desire and want.

"UUNGH (Thwack). Please don't. (Thwack). AAAAAHH. (Thwack). NOOOoooo! (Thwack). Don't. (Thwack). Don't. (Thwack). Don't. (Thwack). Don't stooop.!" 

"Yeeeeesssss!" Another series of orgasms rockets through my spread-eagled torso. I recognise the pain of my humiliating lashing, but I can no longer distinguish it from the pleasure that it accompanies.

HE turns his attention to other parts of my body.

Now, the backs of my thighs. They shake as the lash hits home.

The rest of my body heaves as I come and come and come.

Now, the muscles in my outer thighs. Straining to help me maintain a sense of balance the tension converts the whistle and crack of the whip into . . . 

"Aiiiiieeeee. The hurt. Noooo. The hurt. Yessss. Hurrrrt meeeeee."

The dildos churning and plunging inside my soft, accepting cunt, my tight, receiving ass-hole turn the tension to relief as . . .

"IIIIIII'mmmmm CUUUUUUMINGGGGGGG."

The screamed delight of my orgasm is truncated as the whip whistles across my distended, swelling, belly.

The lash curls round my waist, falls free and again . . .

THHHHwack..

The swell of my stomach retreats from the lash; trying to escape its force and then, perversely, pushes itself forward, ready to accept the next onslaught.    -.

And now . . .

And now . . . 

And "No . . . w . . . oooooooooooo!!"

Not there. Please. Please not there. 

Not my swelling, bouncing, straining, imprisoned . . . 

"Tiiiiiiittttttts."

But my tits betray me.

They try to shrink back from the swish of the leather, the slicing knots that cut across each distended breast.

In turn, the anchored, extended nubs of my hard, oh so hard throbbing nipples pull my retreating tit-mounds forward.

They redden and expand.

They wobble deliciously in front of my mask-imprisoned face. 

Like over-filled balloons they feel ready to explode. 

These, however, are not mere bags of air.

My tits are peaks of flesh, rising and falling madly.

They are sensitive, engorged, sacs of nerves, receptacles of pleasure. 

So, though they shake from the torture, the sweet, sweet torture of the whip 

They offer themselves, gladly, to the pleasure that each nerve-ending stimulates. 

My tits, my voice, betray my mind.

"Ibeg of you, master. I can't take it. Pleeeease. Not my tits. Not my . . . My . . . My tiiiitts . . .

. . . Aaaah, yes, my . . . My . . . uuungh . . . tits . . . Ooooh, yeessss . . . My . . . tits . . . my tits

. . . beat me . . . beat me . . . beat my tiiiiiittttttts.!"

The assault continues down the heaving, slopes of my boobs.

The lash cuts the surface and scarlet oozes brightly from a fractured blood vessel. 

The puckered tan of my areolae, contrasts against the ivory smoothness of my deep cleavage, the purpling 9f my bound, swelling tit mountains and the crimson flecks of sanguine, clotting liquid flecked across my bosom.

Even if I wanted to I cannot stop myself from coming 

The coming masks the pain

And the pain makes me CUUUUUUUUMMMMM.

Impaled, beaten, bleeding, I will accept anything to make me come.

I will allow my master to do anything in order to make me submit to orgasm.

I am a slave, a weeping, screaming, submitting slave, controlled only by the man who ravages my accepting body and the dreadful lust that has taken over my whole being.

Once, I was a quiet suburbanite, my sexual longings were prim and ordinary. 

Now, captured by one foolish thought of submission, I am an accepting harlot, slave to orgasm and needful desire.

I will accept anything to make me . . . 

"CUM, make me cum, aaaaaahhhhh, make me cuuuuummm."

Invaded by vibrations, my sucking cunt will force me to ask for anything to satisfy its wet, pulsating need.

My plundered ass will send obscene messages to my belly and my brain; anything to make the rack of orgasm continue unabated.

And between screams my voice will turn my fear into yearning want. 

I want him to . . . 

The whip crashes down my breasts. 

I want him to . . .

It fucks across my crinkled areolae that halo my hard, stretched, swelling . . .

I want him to . . .

"My nipples, master, my nipples."

I know the pain across the crowning glories of my tits will make me want to die. 

I know the knots will cut into the suck-holes that dimple my engorged, fleshy nubs. 

I know all this and still I beg . . . 

"My nipples, master, beat my nipples, master . . . ooooooh yeeeeessss . . .hurt . . . mm-mm-mm-my . . . niiipppllles."

With each word the lash slices across my paps.

The exquisite, delicate papilla, jutting from the crowns of my breasts further than I thought possible, explode in fiery anguish.

The fire spreads . . . 

"AIIIIIIIEEEEEEE"

and spreads . . . 

"NOOOOOOOO"

ravaging my soul . . . 

"AAAAAGGGHHHH"

My head shakes wildly from side to side in demented pain.

Even my streaming, oozing cunt, fucked and fucked and fucked and fucked by the object churning inside my womb cannot divert me from the pain.

I want the pain . . . I want the pain . . . I want the pain . . .

To make me . . . 

CUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

The orgasm is long, drawn out and explosive. My head slumps. I can take no more. I am finished?

I am not!!

Neither is HE.

HE will continue until I can take no more. 

And HE does.

I hang there in bruised reverie, unsure of what is happening. 

And the whip crawls up my sleek, inner thighs. Higher and higher

Nearer and nearer

("My ass, yes. My belly, yes. My tits, my nipples, yes, yes, yes. But not this. Not my c . . .")

CRAAAAAASSSSH. THHHWAAAACK. SLLLLIIIIICCCCCCE.

HE cannot reach my cunt.

It is full to capacity, fucked to the limit, protected by the strip of leather that retains the dildos. But the leather divides my twat in two and my cunt lips, wet, steaming, naked and proud cannot escape from his bloody assault.

HE crouches, cracking the whip upwards to batter my heaving cunt-lips. 

It fucks on the puffy, swelling labia cutting into the now pube-less flesh. 

With his loose hand HE adjusts the final controls for the dildos. 

What are those? What do they do?

Immediately, I find out.

The two, metallic heads in the dildos start to hum.

Even though they are buried deep inside me I can hear the drone and the spit of sparks as . . . From one silvery head to another . . . 

Contact is made . . . 

Through the thin membrane that separates ass and cunt; 

The flesh and organs that separate womb and belly 

The reason that separates fear from pleasure 

Contact is made . . . 

And . . . 

Shocks . . . 

"NOOOOOOOO"

of . . . 

"STOOOOOOP"

Electricity . . .

"NO, NO. NO. NO, NO, NO, NOOOOOO!!!"

Spark around my stretched and sacrificed being.

I hang there, shaking, oozing sweat, reaching towards insanity, a sexual puppet whose limbs flail and jerk with pleading horror.

HE answers each jerk with a slash of the whip. 

Jerk.

The tip of the whip bites into the naked swell of my erupting cunt-lip. 

Jerk.

Unprotected, shaven, hairless, the other lip accepts the whip tip and froths with cuntal fluids. Jerk.

The left . . . 

Jerk.

The right . . . 

Bright red pain flashes from my swelling labia, along the wet, moist walls of my over-filled stretched cunt and collides with the shocks that penetrate my womb, my cervix, the very depths of my cunt.

The twin sources of painful ecstasy swirl in a maelstrom of agony and as a longed for, familiar, wanted feeling slowly builds from my very centre . . . 

I slide into the pit of madness.

I know it is not real but I can feel my whole body, my total being, expanding and exploding, becoming one with the universe.

I see/I think I see . . . I think I feel/I feel . . .

My master's semen sliding from my gaping mouth, tumbling in a sticky torrent on my bulbous bound chest.

I see/I think I see . . . I think I feel/I feel . . .

His cum boils and steams as it hits my upper boobs. The force and the heat cause the already swollen dugs to expand outwards, stretching to a point of near explosion. The delicate blue veins that thread across my tits pulse and glow.

I see/I think I see . . . I think I feel/I feel . . .

My nipples erupt, miniature volcanoes of fleshy need. Milk spurts wildly from the centre of each nipple and splashes coolly on my belly and torso.

A river of clear, yellow pee pours from my cunt lips and drizzles down my gaping thighs. 

A thick, mucous of spunk explodes from my puckered ass-hole and cascades, sticky, wet, alive coating my projecting buttocks in a thick, rich lather of come.

The stream of piss flowing from my aching cunt changes colour and consistency. It thickens. Now it is clear. My juices tumble from my fuck-hole. Now it is pink. The cunt juices slide eerily down my naked, spread thighs. Now it is . . . 

RED.

Blood explodes from every opening in my body. 

Blood bubbles at my lips, seeps from my ears. 

Blood slides down the deep canyon between my breasts. 

Tiny fountains of blood leap from the veins in my tits. 

Geysers of blood shoot out from my engorged battered nipples. 

I am awash in sweet, sickly, bubbling plasma.

The hallucination of the senses flashes wildly. 

The blood changes hue, the blood changes consistency. 

From red to translucent white

From a thin outpour to a thick, gooey, boiling spurt.

Cum cascades from my mouth, my tits, my nipples, my belly button, my ass and my cunt. 

It runs down my face, my eyes, my nose and coats me in a thick, viscous layer of sperm. 

As I jerk outside this sticky dream of madness . . .

Jerk to the shocks pulsing round cunt and ass. 

Jerk to tension and nipples and tits. 

Jerk to the pull on legs and neck and arms. 

Jerk to the slash of the whip across my aching cunt-lips

. . . in my madness . . .

I see/I think I see . . . I think I feel/I feel . . .

I use each jerk to fill every orifice with the sperm that coats me. 

My eye-lids pool with come.

My cleavage surges with a lake of sticky sperm.

Come erupts from my nipples and falls back through the tiny suck holes turning my once fleshy dugs to swirling, slapping, slurping reservoirs of come. I long for him to stroke, to caress, to squeeze my imaginary come filled tits.

Sperm pools in the centre of my stomach and drains inwards to fill my belly with come. 

The streams from my holes magically reverse their flow and fill my ass, my cunt, my womb with come.

From my mouth, come seeps from my glands, swills round my mouth, whirlpools towards my gaping throat, splashing the sides of my gullet and slides, wetly, stickily, easily towards my centre.

A thousand hands reach out a smear the cum, in my hair, my eyes, my tits, my belly, my cunt, my ass, my thighs, my calves and the cracks between my toes.

I am covered from masked head to painted toe in come, come, come, come, come. . . . . . my master's come.

The realisation pulls me back from the edges of insanity. 

But my mouth still babbles.

"CUM . . . oh, yes . . . CUM . . . SHIT, yes . . . CUM . . . FUCK, yes . . . CUM . . . YES, yes . . . CUM . . . FUCK me . . . CUM . . . SUCK me . . . CUM . . . CUM/OH CUM/OH CUM/OH/

CUM/OH CUM/OOOOOOOHHHHH CUUUUUUUUUUUMMMM"

The litany of obscenity has its effect on my mind and body. 

Orgasms slowly rise from my centre.

Even though my body is stretched 

My tits swollen

My nipples tied and bound. 

My cunt and ass filled to every extremity

The force of my cum, the orgasm induced by my master, takes over every pore of my being. My come explodes with a force of pleasure.

And . . . 

'AAAAAHHHHH . . . master . . . I'm coooming . . . master . . . I'm cooooommmminng . . . master . . . thank you, master . . . yesssssss . . . thank you."

It is the words HE has wanted to hear.

Fluidly, rapidly HE slashes my bonds, lifts me from the ceiling, unshackles my bracelets and releases my tits and nipples from their bondage.

HE reaches between my legs and, with a sucking sound, pulls the still vibrating, still pulsing dildos from my ass, my cunt, my gaping holes. My juices flow onto his fingers and HE sucks them into his mouth with relish, the thin stream from my ass, the thick mucous from my cunt. HE drops the dildos to the floor, kicks them to one side and removes the mask from my head. A halo of hair explodes around my face and HE lowers me to the floor.

I lie there naked, open, bruised, beaten, satisfied, waves of come still coursing through my body.

HE stands astride me whip in one hand, gorged, erect, extended cock in the other. 

"You may finish it," HE says.

My hands travel rapidly down my body to knead my hard, glistening clit, but instead I offer myself to my master.

I spread my legs wide, impossibly wide and grasp the puffy lips of my cunt hole. 

I pull them apart to reveal the pink inside, folded, layered, sweet and wet, oh so wet. 

"It is yours master."

HE stands there cock in hand, the head rich purple, his balls welling, the veins in his shaft throbbing.

It is ready to plunge into my aching crevice, to fill my expectant cunt, to flood my hole with sperm.

But I am a slave, submissive to my master, a mere collection of holes to be filled.

I will have that cock, his delicious manly cock ploughing my offered vagina, but not yet, not yet.

I gaze towards his other hand, and pull my cunt lips further and further apart. I am totally open, agape, sacrificial, a slave.

"The whip, master . . . please . . . the whip."

In a blur of speed his one hand slides rapidly from balls to helmet of his throbbing cock, squeezing, massaging, kneading, caressing.

And the other hand . . . 

Raises the whip.

Slices it downwards . . . 

And scythes it into my cunt . . . 

The knots cut into my tender cunt flesh

The tips crash into my clit,

My cunt widens and widens begging, pleading for more . . . 

My cunt . . . 

My beautiful, wet, glistening, ravaged, beaten cunt . . .

"My cunt . . . yes . . . 

My cunt . . . oh yes . . . 

My cunt . . . harder . . . 

My cunt . . . master . . . my cunt . . . beat it . . . mash it . . my cunt . . . my cunt . . . make

me bleed . . . . my cuuuuuuunt."

It is done. My body arches as my come rips my body.

The whip fucks beads of lubrication from the depths of my fuck hole.

The orgasm is too much for me.

"MY cuuunnt . . . my cunt. . . cum . . . cunt . . . cum . . . cunt . . . cum. . .

cunt/cum/cunt/cum/cunt/Cum/Cunt/Cum/Cunt/Cum/

Cunt . . . . . . C-C-C-C-C-UUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMM."

We come together.

My juices flood from my open cunt.

His cock jerks and spits spunk towards me.

I draw back my shoulders and offer him my swollen breasts.

Spunk flies from his cock and splatters my nipples.

I open my mouth and extend me tongue.

His thick, white come jets on my face and fills my mouth.

I raise my hips offering my belly.

HE covers it in creamy, stickiness.

I smear it down towards my gaping legs, fingers kneading the love juice across the narrow gap

twixt ass and genitals

And finally . . . 

("I can take no more . . . I can take no more.")

HE lashes the whip across the open cavern of my cunt.

Throws the instrument of torture ("The blessed instrument of torture") between my legs

Grasps his erupting cock in both hands

And directs it at the V cut in my legs above my cunt.




Fantasy For Emma Ch. 02



His come splashes my clit, drenching it in hot stickiness.

With both hands I coat the extended, hard, pearly nub of my clit with his welcome come

And push downwards against the miniature cock-thing that crowns my cunt, my hands

slithering on the wash of his sweet, sticky seed..

I can take no more . . . 

I come and I come and I come and I come and I come

And I scream "Yes master, Yessssssss."

Before collapsing into an intense, orgasm-induced oblivion.

One final image fills my head

A swirl of cocks and cunts, 

tits and balls, 

nipples and clits 

rushing towards me, 

caressing me,

penetrating me, 

covering me, 

smothering me, 

sweeping me 

into 

a state 

of 

non-being.

I slump on the floor, satiated, unconscious.

My beautiful body lies there in its nakedness

Legs akimbo

Holes agape

A Submissive

A Sexual device

A Toy of pleasure

A Slave.

A Slave to love.

* * * * * * * * * *

Later.

Much later.

The slave lies sleeping on the bed.

The afternoon has passed.

The darkness of night has taken its place.

The room is bathed in a pale blue light, giving everything an appearance of translucence.

The slave stirs, gently tossing, stimulated by dreams of possession, punishment and perversion.

She has often dreamed in this way, but she has never dared to turn her dreams to reality.

Her fantasies remained fantasies . . . 

Until now!

The sudden realisation shakes the slave from her reveries.

She is awake, very awake.

Recollections of the afternoon's events flood her mind.

The orgasms, the buggerings, the beatings, the bondage, the invasions of her body, the madness,

the satisfaction; the memories parade behind her still closed eyes.

Her placid face does not betray the fear that dominates her thoughts.

"But," she muses, "fear Is the tool of enslavement. And with enslavement comes . . . "

Joy pushes the fear to the back of her mind.

Submission was what she asked for, submission was what she got. Brutal, but beautiful

submission that made her body the property of another. The vessel for her master's desires.

Tentatively, carefully, Emma explores her soft, rounded body.

There is little evidence of the experiences that battered her frame earlier in the day.

Her torso tingles with renewed vitality.

Someone has bathed her, washing away the sweat of exertion and ecstasy.

Someone has salved her cuts, her weals, her aching extremities with unguents, perfumes and

tender attention.

Her body still aches, but the ache lies dormant in the background, acting merely as a reminder

of the acts which had given her so much pleasure.

Someone has powdered her pudenda, dusted her puckering ass, oiled her swelling buttocks,

administered to the curves of her burgeoning breasts.

The slave opens her eyes.

Someone has bound her breasts in a harness of soft, chamois leather.

Hoops of chamois encircle the base of her tits.

Four strips of chamois radiate to the centre of each breast joined to a second hoop of silver that surrounds her areolae, leaving her nipples poking expectantly from the centre.

A delicate, black silk suspender belt encloses her waist, supporting pale blue silk hose that luxuriate her thighs, her calves, her toes painted in pale, sparkling pink.

A thin seam runs through the rear of the stockings, accentuating the strength and curve of her legs.

A circle of chamois balances on her hips, j6ined by additional strips that tumble down her front, her inner and outer thighs.

The strips connect to tightening hoops of chamois which wrap round her upper thighs, gripping gently but firmly.

Two single strips of chamois stretch from hip to thigh circles, cutting provocatively into her middle buttocks, leaving the outer globes of her ass wonderfully exposed.

Finally, a white thong of silk embraces her genitals, narrowing dangerously as it meets the V between her thighs. It separates her exposed cunt-lips with a thin cord of silk that dives between her leg, crosses (barely) her ass hole and buries itself into the deep cleft between her buttocks.

The slave smiles.

Someone has dressed her carefully for exposure, accentuating strategic points of her body, stressing her near-nakedness with lines and curves that enhance the soft swellings that make her body so special.

Someone has . . . 

(The slave picks up a hand mirror she notices on the bedside table.) 

. . . Adorned her areolae with soft pink rouge.

The same rouge accentuates her cunt lips and (curiously, she holds the mirror between her legs) the tight, restricted pucker of her near virgin ass hole.

Someone has . . . 

(The slave lifts the mirror to her face.)

. . . painted her lips the same, soft pink. The broad sweeps of lipstick stress the wide, soft bows of her lips.

. . . rouged her cheeks, redder this time, stressing the strong line of her cheek bones. 

. . . applied blue mascara to her eyes and surrounded them with thin, sparkling black eyeliner.

The whole effect is of total sluttishness, a classy slut, but a slut non-the-less. 

("And that is what I am," the slave muses. "A slut who submits to my master. A slut who willingly opens her cunt and mouth for his pleasure. A slut who thrills to the slash of leather on tit, and ass. A slut who accepts the invasion of cunt and ass to thrill her body. A slut who revels in coming and being used as a vessel for cum. A slut who desires nothing save to satisfy

my . . . ") She voices the last word openly.

"Master!?"

Someone . . . 

("HE is here. My master is here.") The thrill of his dominating presence is almost too much for her. She longs to submit once more; to offer herself to him in any way HE feels fit; to enslave herself to him at any time and in any manner; yes, in any manner; to sacrifice herself to the power of submission. The slave is ready to the serve.

. . . calls her name from the depths of the room. Her given name. Her name of submission. "Emma. Come to me."

She slides from the bed . . . 

"Come to me in submission."

She sinks to the floor, instinctively knowing his desires, and crawls on her belly towards the voice hidden in the pale blue darkness. The cold wooden floor arouses her thighs, her tight, swelling tits as she slithers like a snake towards her master.

She crawls towards the voice, seeing nothing, accepting nothing, wanting nothing save a desire to touch and be touched.

The journey seems endless, but at last she lies, abased as his feet, and she kisses his unshod feet, sliding her tongue in and around his toes.

"My perfect slave." Beneath the severity there is no denying the depth of affection.

She clings to his legs, noticing for the first time that HE is covered from shoulder to ankle m a suit of soft, shiny white latex. The smell of the rubber invades her nostrils, the perfume of talcum mixed with latex makes her head swoon.

The slave diverts her gaze upwards and notices, with desire, that the latex is slashed at the crotch. She realises, with some satisfaction, that this will give her the access she wishes for, but then . . . a shiver of disappointment wracks her feverish body . . . she sees that his cock, his lovely cock, is pouched in a bag of black silk that gathers at his crotch. 

Never-the-less, she slides her long, pink painted nails upwards, over his strong calves, over his muscled thighs and slides her nails over the bulging pouch that retains the cock she so desires. Her fingers roam sensuously over the already straining pouch, and hold his swelling balls, his pendulous cock in her soft hands, longing to have his shaft invade her now lubricating cunt. "Later, good slave, later."



HE reaches down to her uplifted head and secures a collar of soft black leather around her neck. A leash hangs from the collar and HE grips it tightly, close to her neck and forces her upstretched face down to his ankles.

"To please me, you must please others.".

The shocks of his words bring her eyes into focus. 

Staring into the pale blue gloom she realises . . . 

They are not alone.

Someone else stands to the rear of her master.

Someone else is looking on her near nakedness, her submitting body. 

Someone else has been introduced into the duality of master and slave.

And she realises with a horror that is mixed with sensual curiosity that her master has decided to take her to the utmost point of submissive degradation.

HE has given her, his slave . . . to someone else. 

Someone else will partake of her willing body. 

Someone else will debase and defile her.

And with a thrill she had not expected, she accepts this added level of submission, she accepts that she can be used by anybody, any time, in any way they chose. She will offer her cunt, her mouth, her tits, her thighs; her ass, her ripe heaving body, to anyone, to everyone, to whomever her master desires. She is HIS slave and it is her duty, her role, her desire to please him. She has agreed to submit, so she will submit in any way HE feels fitting.

HE yanks at her leashed collar and pulls her to her feet.

Her master turns to the . . . Emma cannot make out the identity of the someone else in the pale blue light . . . and pulls Emma forward face to face with her new subjugator. 

Latex covered hands boldly grip her face.

Soft, spreading lips cover hers and a tongue invades her mouth, sliding, slithering, searching over gums and teeth and her own slavish tongue.

Her master speaks.

"This is Emma, my slave. 

She is for your pleasure. 

Make sure she obeys your every wish . . . "

The shock takes Emma by complete surprise. 

She had not been expecting this.

She had been prepared to offer her body to any man, to do with it as HE felt fit.

She had been ready to give up her cunt and tits and nipples to any man that wished to use her. She had not expected to be used by . . . 

BY . . .

. . . Another woman.

"Master." The slave's voice is querulous, doubtful. "I can not . . . I have not . . . I don't know how" Tears well in her soft, mascaraed eyes.

"Silence." His anger roars through her ears. "You are a slave. You are here to learn, to enjoy, to submit."

HE hands the leash to the woman.

"You may begin."





The woman yanks the leash

And drags the tearful slave, stumbling, apprehensive, uncertain, back towards the bed. 

The bed on which she had so recently lay in awaking reverie.

The bed on which she was now to be sacrificed 

The bed on which she is now to submit.

She has been given to this person by her master. 

She will, she must, give herself unreservedly.

She advertised, yes advertised, for submission 

Then, submit is what she must do.

With one final yank the slave tumbles onto the bed 

The awaiting bed

And opens her arms to accept . . . 

("Yes, that's it, that's who she is.") 

. . . to accept . . . 

"I am ready.

Mistress!"

* * * * * * * * * *

A smile crosses her face.

"My name is Sonja, Emma.

I am a submissive to your master, just like yourself

I will control you like a mistress, but I am equally your master's slave. 

Remember, as I pleasure you, that you belong to him and no one else."

She is so confident, so strong as she stands before my out-stretched body. 

I have never done this before.

If I said I had not been at all curious, I would be lying, but the act of making love to another woman had always felt strange, alien, wrong.

"You will obey Sonja's wishes Emma."

It is the master, my master, OUR master.

"IF you fail to satisfy her she has my permission to deal with you as she sees fit." 

A perverse thought of disobedience flits across my mind.

My traitorous, lustful body wants me to disobey.

I can not disobey him, but I could disobey her . . . 

. . . and accept the consequences.

None-the-less, I know I must eventually submit to her wishes, even though I do feel that it is wrong.

Yet, despite my reservations, I am fascinated by this girl (she is clearly younger than I am) who dismisses my more mature years and treats me as her equal. In her eyes we are both women and we shall share our womanhood.

HE speaks.

"You will find I have trained Sonja well.

I found her in Rio and taught her how to use sex to control and to please. 

You will find she is different, very different."



What does HE mean by that?

As I take in this girl/woman's beauty, I realise she is very different from me, but his words suggest something hidden, something secret.

I cannot help but contrast our differences. 

Our differences that extend from head to toe. 

My hair explodes in a glorious halo around my head. 

Her hair is long, red and falls heavily down her back. 

My skin is white, ivory, translucent.

Her skin, the product of her Brazilian nationality, is mocha coloured, dusky, exotic. 

I lie here dressed in harnesses and silk, 

She stands over me, a collection of latex and flesh. 

A red latex halter-top adorns her upper torso, tight, constricting. 

Two holes are cut in the front from which her breasts jut forward. 

My harnessed tits are large, soft, round, an explosion of curves, mounted by pushing, thrusting nipples.

Her tits are exquisite, small, firm cones of flesh rising from her breastbone. They rise to a point where tiny, stabbing nipples lift upwards. A gold ring penetrates each nipple, each ring is joined by a thin silver chain that hangs down to her waist.

My belly is full, fecund, with a womanly swell.

Her stomach bulges only slightly, constricted by her narrow waist.

"Wear these."

She hands me a pair of deliriously high-heeled shoes.

They strap at the ankle, and a mesh criss-crosses my feet, binding them in shiny, patent leather. The heels taper dangerously to malevolent points.

They slide on easily over my stockinged feet.

She wears heels of equal magnitude, but at the ankle the leather gives way to more red latex. Long, soft boots of latex cling to her legs and soar upwards, flaring at the top into soft leather that almost cuts into the top of her thighs.

She stands there, arms folded, red latex gloves reaching, almost clinging from her fingers to the top of her thin upper arms.

My arms hang by my side, naked, submissive.

My thong-covered cunt, is swelling, white, glistening. The fleshy cunt-lips are cut by the thong and project forward, enticingly.

I can see nothing of her cunt. She wears a pair of red latex hot pants that cling dangerously tightly to thighs and ass. Her ass is smaller than mine. She can match the swell of my fleshy, soft buttocks, but she is too small to equal the beauty of my deep, inviting ass cleft.

The hot pants are fastened at the hip and at the crotch by shiny press-studs. They suck her body inwards. I can see nothing of her cunt, but the latex clings tightly. There is a long gash that stretches from the top of her thighs to the centre of her crotch. The latex has been sucked into her hole, revealing nearly every outline of her vagina.

She looks dangerous and she knows it.

I am lush, ripe, open submissive. I am happy to be this way. I will submit to her danger.

She kisses me again, holding my chin in her gloved hand. Her tongue wraps around mine.

Her mouth tastes sweet and honeyed. The danger has begun.



"Kneel."

I turn over, facing the headboard of the bed. 

She takes one hand and wraps it with a silk stocking. 

Then the other.

Efficiently, swiftly, she fastens my hands to the extremities of the head-board. 

I kneel there, my arms spread wide, my rounded ass jutting upwards, my harnessed breasts hanging pendulously, swaying slightly as the bed shudders.

She climbs on the bed and slides beneath my upraised body.

The latex brushes against my swaying tits, the sensuality stimulating my nipples to jut downwards, expanding, hardening.

She takes my tits in her gloved hands and the thrill of latex betrays my body again. 

She strokes my dangling, swelling globes, softly at first and them more forcefully. The strokes turn to kneading.

I moan as the pressure on my tits becomes harder and harder. My nipples have never felt so hard.

Her fingers grip my hanging boobs and sink into the soft, pliant flesh, gripping, squeezing, forcing them to unnatural, wonderful shapes. I am literally putty, putty of flesh, in her hands. My nipples expand and thrust downwards. My cunt starts to wetten.

She sucks one nipple into her mouth. 

Her tongue swirls round my rouged areola. 

Her lips surround my ever enlarging teat.

She presses the tip of her tongue into the tiny dimple of my suck hole. She pulls her tongue back and my nipple strains forward trying regain the pleasure of her tongue.

But it is no good. She removes her mouth from my tit end. 

My nipple sticks out obscenely, majestically.

"She is ready, master."

HE passes her a small, ring like object.

She forces the ring open on a hinge revealing a pair of sharp, tiny points. 

She passes her tongue over the points, then over my nipple and . . . 

"Noooooooooooooooo!!!!"

She closes the hinge and the teeth fasten themselves into the flesh of my of my firm, swelling, expanding nipple and push through the surface to join in the middle.

Pain surges through the pap, through the puckered circle that surmounts my tit and fills the soft, hanging flesh of my dugs.

I shriek, my head shaking wildly, my body jerking in sympathy with my poor tortured tit end. Tiny, tiny drops of blood form at the point of entry.

She licks the ring that penetrates my pap 

Sucks the drops of blood into her mouth 

and . . . 

Begins again.









On the other tit.

"No. Not the other one."

Nipple into mouth.

"No. It hurts. It hurts." 

Tongue swirls areola. 

"Please no, please."

Lips surround teat.

"Please, aaaah, yes, please, please." 

Tip of tongue into suck hole. 

The sensuality distracts from the pain in my spiked nipple.

"More, yes, more." 

Nipple strains forward, swelling protruding. 

In my lust I order my torment.

"I am ready, master."

"Noooooooooooooooo!!!! Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes."

Spikes sink into my other nipple and I luxuriate in the pain.

She presses her lips to my breast as if to suck away the torment. The pucker of her lips leaves red lipstick tattooing the alabaster marble of my tit.

The specks of blood roll down her neck.

She lifts her neck towards my panting mouth, offering me a Eucharist of my own blood. 

I suck it greedily into my mouth, accepting my pain

She unleashes the harness that binds my tits and my tits hang gratefully free.

She detaches one end of the silver chain that links her own breasts and passes it through the rings impaling my nipples.

Then again.

She pulls.

My nipples, my throbbing tortured nipples, pull towards each other, straining with torment. They are less than two inches apart.

The pressure forces my breasts together, creating a cleavage of billowing soft tit-flesh. 

She runs her tongue down the tit valley and buries it deeply into the fleshy gorge.

Her tongue hardens and pushes in and out of the chasm between my breasts, fucking my tits with her clever pointed cock of a tongue.

I moan, wishing I could suck the cones of her tits into my mouth.

She refastens the silver chain to the ring in her tit, leaving a length dangling.

Her legs, which are now between my outspread knees, lift and she rubs her knee against the thong that covers my cunt. Cunt juice starts to flow from my covered crack.

Our tits, joined by chain, are less then six inches apart.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders and lifts her body towards me. 




Fantasy For Emma Ch. 02



Our mouths meet.

Our tits join as one.

The cones of her breasts drill into the soft mountains of my milk bags. 

Our nipples rub together, scratching each other into unholy arousal.

She releases one arm and her latex-covered hand caresses our twinned tits, moulding, kneading, trying to turn four into one.

Again we kiss 

And then . . . 

She releases her other arm from my shoulder. 

And allows her body to fall.

The mass of tit flesh separates.

Her cones of delight part from my throbbing mounds 

And she falls and falls and falls.

The chain tightens.

She is hanging there, hanging from my tits.

My stretched dugs pull downwards, my nipples heave and strain, ready to separate from my tit.

Her pointed mammaries stretch upwards, teats inflamed, elastic, desperately seeking to rejoin the tit parcel from which they had been separated.

She pushes herself gently sideways and we sway, my tits bearing the weight of her body, her tits pulling from side to side, researching for the vertical.

She corrects the swing and her latex covered hands grasp her conical bosoms and squeezes. Wetness jets from her nipples and splashes my aching breasts with coolness. The white liquid, rolls down the slope of my tits, over my nipple and returns from whence it came, dripping onto her dug and covering her pointed boobs.

She scoops the white liquid into her hand and forces it into my mouth. The mixture of latex and milk is strange, but Ilust for more.

"Please let me suck you Sonja, please." 

OUR master laughs. "I told you she was special." 

But it is Sonja who is in charge. She takes what she wants first. 

She releases the chain that binds our tits together. 

I sigh with a feeling of loss.

I moan as she raises her head and sucks both of my nips into her rapacious mouth. 

And I scream as her fine pointed teeth BITE into the flesh of my nubs.

Teeth clenched she shakes her head from side to side, worrying my clamped nipples, as if to pull them from my chest.

Then she releases my reddening nipple and stuffs her tit into my mouth.

I suck, feverishly, the entire mound disappearing into my mouth. Small and delicate, the peak fills my mouth

She tries to pull away and I catch her swollen dug between my teeth.

Sucking and biting, sucking and biting, milk jets and falls, jets and falls as I nuzzle on her delicious nubbin.

"You'll pay for that, bitch, "she snarls. "not yet, but you'll pay." 

I do not know what she has in mind.

But I know it will be awful. 

I know it will cause pain. 

I do not care.

I give her nipple one final suck. 

Her tit drops away.

And her milk, the strange milk from this strange, entrancing woman, slides down my throat and fills my empty stomach.

* * * * * * * * * *

Emma sighs, a moan exudes from her mouth and an unswallowed dribble of my breast milk wells at the corner of her mouth like a dribble of cum

I have always been different. More different than she knows. But she will find out.

I smile and wonder at my ability to produce milk since puberty. My master tells me it happens very occasionally. I cannot express my joy at the gift my body possesses.

I have done with her breasts.

"Now your cunt, slave."

I release her hands, but in her enslavement she remains propped on the headboard of the bed, arms spread, her swelling, pulsating tits hanging downwards.

I release her chained nipples. Still she does not move.

I rotate my slender body through 180 degrees and stare up at the beauty of her split, denuded cunt lips.

I tear away the thong that covers her genitals. 

Her cunt is already waiting for my assault.

Pre-cum drools over the lips of her luscious gash.

I seize her waist and, breaking her hold on the headboard, roll her over, so that I lie on top of her, her generous breasts pressing against my upper thighs.

I force her legs apart, opening the chasm that lies between her legs.

I slide a latexed finger into her crack, stirring the juices within. I know my master has filled that gaping cunt with his hand. I have other ideas.

Her cunt heaves as my finger strokes against the walls.

Her fingers scrabble at the studs that hold my hot pants together.

"Not the crotch," I order. I intend to save THAT surprise for later.

She uncovers my ass, clutching onto the globes of my buttocks. Here is one area where our bodies match. Our buttocks are large, swelling, resilient, welcoming. I will take my pleasure with hers soon.

But for now I have other plans.

I withdraw my finger from her cunt.

My small, gloved hands enfold her cunt lips and separate them, dividing her slit to reveal the pink folds underneath.

She sighs with pleasure.

My tongue darts from my panting mouth and slides across the folds of her glistening vagina. I scoop her wetness into my mouth, sucking it into my cheeks.

She kneads my buttocks, sending tingles through my whole body.

My tongue slides along the wet walls of her pulsing cunt, caressing the hot, silken flesh. Her tongue slides down the crack of my ass.

It slides towards my rectum, but wavers before it reaches my puckering hole. 

"Do it," I scream, "Do IT."

"I can't," she moans. "I can't."

"You cunt," I berate her. "We fill your every hole and yet you refuse our orders. DO IT." I pull my tongue from her cunt.

She begs for my forgiveness.

Furious, I form my latexed hand into a fist and slam it into the opening of her cunt.

Her cunt's walls cleave widely and my fist sinks into the warm, wetness that lies beneath.

The sides of her cunt suck at my arm, pulling me into her depths. In my fury, I force my fist forward, slamming into the base of her womb.

I ignore her screams. She revels in the abuse, feeding her sexuality with her pain.

She gets the message. Her wide warm lips suck on my ass. She buries her tongue in the circle of my anus, matching the rhythm of my pistoning arm with the point of her tongue. Her hot, sensual breathe pours into my the tunnel of my ass.

My rectum has been well used. I am wide and open. This is nothing new to me. Her ass is virginal. Mine has been well prepared by cocks and dildos and phalluses and more. She will have more than her tongue in my ass before this is finished.

She sucks greedily on my ass hole and in return I pull my arm from her cunt, with a delicious squelch, and bury my face in the churning morass of her vagina.

She starts to come.

Juices tumble from her glands soaking my face and her cunt shudders against my penetrating nose.

I force my tongue into the wetness, scooping her cum juices into my mouth.

The juices are thick, salty, sweet and flow like a river as her cunt heaves with the force of her coming

I lick, lick, lick the length of her steaming twat, savouring the sweetness, nearly drowning in the flood of her wetness as it surges around my buried face.

My ass-hole winks, opening and closing as she invades my rear hole with her tongue. Her clit expands, hardening, glistening, begging for my attention.

I suck upwards, never once reducing the suction on her throbbing fuck hole.

I slide three fingers into the pudding of her cunt and penetrate her like a thick, blurring cock. Her cunt squelches around my fingers as they piston into the swamp of flesh and cum. My lips suck on her clit, her mini-penis of sensitivity.

The pearl-like clit jumps and hardens as I roll my lips over her pointing, pushing centre of desire.

Her hips heave, her ass bucks, as she tries to fuck my mouth with her growing, expanding clitoral tissues.

I gently close my teeth on her clit and shake my head worrying her clit into submission. 

She screams, each scream muffled as her tongue penetrates my ass and orgasm ripples through her entire frame.

Her tits shake against my belly quivering like a jelly of female flesh. 

I . . . cannot . . . hold . . . back . . . any . . . longer

I pull myself forward and her tongue is pulled from my ass with a delicious pop. Her hands are torn from my buttocks as I pull myself forward. In the desire to hold hot, female flesh, she squeezes her own swelling tit-flesh, digging her painted finger-nails into the resilience of the tit mountains.

She pulls on her nipples, stretching them to obscene mini-towers of hardness. 

Swiftly, I slide my thumb over her clit, rotating, rubbing, stimulating. 

I lift her legs.

The heels of her obscene shoes point to the ceiling.

I force her legs towards her head, bending her body into a U of shaking, coming female flesh. She grips her ankles, pushing her knees into her own tits, pressing them inwards, forcing a deep crater of quivering tit-flesh into the centre of her breasts, pushing the swell of her mammaries into wide circles of quavering desire.

The ripe curves of her buttocks rear before my face.

Her cunt and her ass-hole are totally exposed, her cunt-lips wide and shimmering with cunt juices, her ass-hole a perfect, tight circle as the valve of her sphincter winks open and closed.

Thumb still manipulating, pressing, stimulating her rearing clit, I scoop the wetness from her cunt and smear the tiny expanse of flesh that joins the ass and cunt with her own liquid excretions.

I smear the brown, tightening, releasing, tightening, releasing ring of her rear hole with her own cuntal fluids.

I hang the cone of my hard, pointed tit over her cunt and coat its entire surface with the boiling stream that floods from her twat.

My nipple rears, a hard, fleshy bullet of want and sexual depravity. 

I pull the nipple along the gash of her cunt.

Realising my intentions, her hands release her straining ankles.

She lifts her head and locks her feet round the back of her head. She raises her head further, her face contorted with pleasure, her eyes staring with delight at the exposure of her holes. She grips the flesh of her bulbous ass, pulling outwards, stretching the flesh, widening the ring of her ass.

Her mouth spits obscenities, taking up the rhythm of my assault.

"Yes . . . " I trail my nipple, pushing against the narrow division twixt cunt and ass. 

"Take me . . . "  I hover above her winking rectum

"With your . . . "  I fiercely grip the pyramid of my tit with tightly clenched fingers. 

"Fuck me . . . " My already conical tit, daggers into a spear of invasion.

 "Fuuuuckmeeeee . . . " My already stiff nipple, hardens, extends, into a bullet of desire. 

"With . . . " Her fingers scrabble, feverishly, grasping for the nub of her rearing, jerking clit.

"Yoooouuuuurrrrr . . . " I plunge downwards, my tit rocketing towards the ring of her ass. "TIIIIIIITTTTTTTT . . . " My swelling nipple invades the ring of her ass and spears into her rear passage.

Her sphincter grips my nipple sucking, pulling, dragging it into the depths of her ass. 

Her assaulting fingers pummel her clit, a blur of want and orgasm. 

Cum drools from her outspread cunt.

I push and my pap slides through her ass hole forcing it open, forcing it to accept the cone of my tit.

I push down, pull back, push down, pull back. My tit becomes a blur as it plunges in and out of her ass, fucking her ass into a jelly of desire. Feverish fantasy grips my mind as I long to split her ass in two, forcing my tit into her swelling belly.

She grips my other tit at the base of my breast and grips it in the round of her hand. The pressure on my dug forces it forwards and I yelp with the joy as she yanks my breast and pulls me forward, slumping across the pillow of her ass.

My left breast squeezes through the tightness of her ass, plunging, withdrawing, retreating, invading.

She forces my right breast into the gaping, silken chasm of her cunt. My nipple, my hard aching nipple, punctures the satiny, slimy walls of her cunt and thrusts forward. 

I fuck her . . . fuck her . . . fuck her. . . fuck her . . . with the daggers of my pointed, my hard, my aching, my tits, my tits, my tits, my tiiiiiiiiiitttttttttsssssss . . . .

We both start to cum.

I can feel my cunt juices sopping into the latex of the hot pants clinging to my crotch. 

I feel Emma's cunt erupt around the tit she is forcing into her vagina.

Her juices soak the pyramid of my tit as her grip tightens and tightens. 

Her ass walls contract around my other breast.

The slave bitch is trying to milk my magic tits. She squeezes harder, ass and cunt, cunt and ass, in an attempt to make my boobs lactate.

I do not want to stop her.

My breasts surge as milk rushes to my nipples, beading in the pin pricks that surmount the crowns of my tight, pointing bosoms.

The pressure, the pistoning, the wetness of her cunt, the grip of her ass walls, stimulates me beyond all endurance.

Like creamy sperm, milk jets out of my left tit onto the walls of her ass, dribbling down, surging to fill her bowels.

She screams with delight

And screams again as the milk from my right boob, mixing with her sticky cum, wells in the basin of her twat.

Gripping my pointed breast in both hands, she stirs the stew of cum and milk with my obscenely extended, jerking nipple, and then nearly pulling my tit from my ribcage, she forces me to squirt milk against her womb.

I pull back. She has too much control. I cannot let the slave have her own way, but my perverse nature makes me halt and I stall, my body erupting in orgasms, at the top of her cunt. I squirt my breast milk at the pearl of her clit, mounted at the oyster of her gaping, empty cunt. My nipple jerks.

Milk cascades over her clit, coating it like sticky jism.

Her clit erupts in orgasm and the deep well of her cunt churns with milk and cum. 

This time we come together screaming each other's names. 

"Jannnnccciiiissssss."

"Fuck . . . Fuck . . . Fuck meeeeee . . . Sonnnnjjjaaaaaa."

She rocks in orgasm, tits heaving like mountains in an earthquake. 

Her head slumps to one side.

She is older than I am; she wants to rest. 

But I will not, cannot, let her. 

It is time for my surprise.

Time for her to use her wide, expansive, slavish, sluttish mouth.

I drag my tits, reluctantly, from her holes, dripping cum/milk over her thighs, her crotch, her belly.

I crawl over her shaking body, the points of my nipples grazing her pale, delicate skin, leaving trails of feminine cum snailing over her torso.

I force her raised knees apart.

She scissors her legs around my waist, trying to stop my progress forwards, trying to gain some respite from the assault.

I will not have it, I will not have it.

I gr~sp her nipples, still heaving and hard from orgasm and . . . "Aiiiiiiieeeeeeee" . . . I twist.

The shock and pain makes her release her legs. 

She lies there, paps corkscrewing as I twist again.

'No . . . no . . . no . . . yes . . . yes . . . harder . . . harder . . . pleeeeaaasssse."

The pain turns to pleasure as she falls into the submission she so dearly loves. Seizing the opportunity, I force my legs forward, straddling her shoulders. 

I lean back, my arms stretching behind me, and use the pillows of her magnificent mammaries for support. 

My hands sink into the softness of her breasts.

I push my red latex-covered crotch against her chin.

I snarl into her contused, subservient, pleading face, using her leather collar to yank her mouth towards me.

"It's my turn now, bitch."

"It's my turn slave, cunt."

I push downwards into the pillow of her breasts. Spittle beads at the corner of her mouth.

Her eyes flutter fearfully. 

"Time for YOU to work, Emma dearest."

"Time for you to use that slavish tongue of yours for something better than the idle words of lust that pour from you mouth."

I squeeze her breasts in time to the paradiddle of my words.

"Time . . . ""Uuuunnnhhh." 

" . . . For . . . "  "Aaaahhhhh."

" . . . Your . . . "   "Yessssss."

" . . . Surprise." Her brow crinkles questioningly. 

"Time . . . 

" . . . to . . . "

" . . . make . . . "

" . . . me . . . "

"Yes, oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, yes."

" . . . CUMMMMM."

* * * * * * * * *

Sonja's words shock me.

I have never touched a woman before her.

I desire her body, but the thought of servicing her makes me feel strange, fearfiil, repulsed, Despite my desire, I find strange words pouring from my mouth.

"I can't do it Sonja. I don't know how Don't make me. Please, don't make me." 

Sonja's Latin eyes flash angrily.

"I will make you. You will make me come. You are a slave. You have no choice. Don't make me hurt you."

Then realisation floods her mind.

"That's it, isn't it. You stupid, slavish collection of fuck holes.

You want me to hurt you. It turns you on. Very well, Emma. You shall get you wish." 

"It's not true. It's not true."

t deny my submission. I deny my desire. But in my mind I know she has spoken the truth. I love the pain. I adore the abuse. It signifies my submission. It enhances my slavery. And, yes, yes, yes, it makes me come.

She ignores my protests. She knows the truth.

She grasps the long length of silver chain dangling from her pierced right nipple and passes it over her shoulder.

The chain tumbles down her coffee coloured back onto my breast.

She passes the silver chain through my recently added left nipple ring, (my breasts lurch in fear and expectation), and draws it under her left armpit pulling it across her body towards her awaiting left nipple.

She passes the chain through her nipple ring and mirrors the process; her left shoulder, my right nipple, her right armpit, back to her right nipple ring.

She draws it through. 

I moan . . . she is right. I love it.

The tension of the chain pulls my nipples backwards and upwards, slapping my tits against her naked buttocks.

I watch as she yanks the chain downwards and my nipples rear higher, supported on a triangle of silver.

Her exquisite tits, oh how I yearn for those tits, pull together, almost moulding into a single, sensual cone.

She ties off the chain. The tension on our four breasts is stimulating, irresistible.

She leans forward, pressing her latex covered lower belly against my chin and mouth. My nose spears her belly button.

The forward movement has excruciating effects on our chained tits.

My nipples rear upwards, pulling my breasts to unnatural lengths, extending them along the length of Sonja's lower back.

My nipples stretch and climb and my tits become more and more elongated. 

Her body muffles my face, stifling my screams.

Sonja smiles at the effect of her cruelty.

She rubs her own nipples, luxuriating as pain jabs into her tender nubs. 

"Mmmmmm. You like that don't you, Emma?"

She returns, slowly, to her upright position.

I blubber wildly as my tits snap back into their near natural form. 

"Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, yessssss."

"Again?"

"Please, Sonja. It's too much. Please, don 't. I can't . . . "

She chuckles. "Wrong . . . "

Shelurches forward. " . . . answer!!!" 

" . . . staaaaaaaannnnnnd iiiiiiittttttt."

My nipples lurch upwards dragging the bulk of my breasts behind them. My globes are pulled into elongated tubes of flesh. My nipples sear with sweet, sweet pain.

I scream and her laughter melds with the tortured sound of my voice.

"Oh, god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh . . . "

She sits back.

 " . . . aaaaaaahhhh."

"You should be careful, Emma." Her voice is hard.

I want to rip her delicate, pointed tits off her chest, but I daren't. I daren't.

"If you make me come too hard, we might pull your nipples off your lovely, fat titties." 

("I must not make her come. She will hurt me. I must not make her come!") The thought races through my slavish mind. ("But if I don't make her come . . .")