0 comments/ 71063 views/ 13 favorites Kiki's Story: The Sale By: turtle_writes "The asking price is eight hundred dollars." "Eight hundred? Seems a little steep, don't you think?" "Are you kidding? At that price, I'm doing you a favor! I should be asking double that!" A silvery laugh, high and feminine, and then the woman's voice, the one I didn't recognize. "Doing your bank account a favor, I'll warrant. Tell you what. I'll offer you four hundred and fifty dollars, right now, and we'll call it a deal." I tested the bonds that held my wrists and ankles, keeping silent, as I strained to hear the muted voices through the thin wooden door. Mark's voice again, sounding incredulous: "Four hundred and fifty dollars? That's highway robbery! I can't take a penny less than seven hundred!" Yes, this was turning out to be one of the strangest days I'd ever had. And it had started so normally, too! Mark got up out of bed before I did this morning; I didn't have anything on my schedule until ten o'clock, so I had the rare luxury of sleeping in. I didn't even get up to fix breakfast; by the time I finally crawled out of bed, he'd already left for work. I woke up late, with barely enough time to shower and dress before I had to rush out the door, and stopped dead in the kitchen when I saw that he'd left a note for me, propped up on the table. Usually, that can only mean one thing. No, wait, better start back a little further. After all, there's a long story to how I ended up in the closet, pressed back amid all the clothes, blindfolded, with my wrists lashed to the bar above me, listening to my boyfriend haggling in the next room. My name is Kimberly Ann, though to my friends I'm Kiki. I'm 26 years old, I'm a realtor, and the man on the other side of the closet door-the man who stripped me down to my bra and panties, bound me standing spreadeagle in the closet, and whispered in my ear exactly what he has planned for me this evening-is Mark, my boyfriend of the past eight months. A year ago, I'd have been the last person in the world to suspect I'd ever find myself here, blindfolded and tied up in the closet. A year ago, I was still trying to figure out exactly who I was and what I wanted. I'd had a series of relationships, of course, most of them with decent enough guys, but... They all seemed to end the same way. A year or two into the relationship, I'd end up feeling vaguely bored, a little restless, a little dissatisfied; and from that point, the end was inevitable. It was like having an itch I could never seem to figure out how to scratch. For a while, I wondered if I might even be a lesbian, but that didn't seem to fit quite right either. I never experimented with a female lover, party out of timidity and partly because I couldn't see myself actually getting it on with another woman. There is a certain irony in that, I'll admit...but that comes later. In retrospect, the problem should have been obvious, really. My fantasy life has always been rich and varied and very, very strange, at least by the standards of the guys I dated. When I close my eyes and open my legs and let my hands slide over my body, I sometimes imagine myself being kidnapped by a mad scientist who would carry me into his secret laboratory, where he'd strap me to his table. I picture him leaning over me, smiling inscrutably, ignoring my screams and my struggles as he methodically cut my clothes from my body. When he had stripped me naked, he would unfold a set of steel stirrups from the end of his table, and cuff my ankles into them, spreading my legs wide. He'd pull on a long pair of surgical gloves, all the way up to his shoulders, and begin running his hands over the most intimate parts of my body, squeezing my breasts and sliding his gloved fingers inside of me...but detached, dispassionate, as if he were testing me, measuring me up for something. I'd feel myself getting wet, in spite of myself, as he probed and examined me, and see my wetness on his gloves when he withdrew his fingers. Finally, when he'd spent a considerable amount of time probing and prodding and fondling me, and had satisfied himself that I was a suitable subject, he'd begin bringing out instruments and strange bits of machinery...large cups that fitted tightly over my breasts, with vacuum hoses attached; a startling array of dildos in various shapes and sizes, which he fitted to a large, squat machine that he wheeled into place between my legs; clamp and electrodes with bundles of wires leading off into even stranger machines. All this without saying a single word to me, without acknowledging me at all. When he was finished setting up the machines, the experiments would begin. With the flick of a switch, the vacuum pumps would come to life, sucking on my breasts; a flick of another switch, and the machine between my legs would whir and hum and vibrate and suddenly thrust a dildo into my wet pussy, over and over again, relentlessly, mechanically. I would scream and cry out and throw myself helplessly against the straps that held me bound securely to the table, unable to stop the relentless assault of the dildo, as the equipment around me monitored and recorded my body's responses. Then, finally, no matter how hard I struggled, I would come, the machine ripping my orgasm from me; he would watch, and take notes in a notebook, as my back arched and my body spasmed in the throes of the unwanted orgasm. Then he'd press another button and the dildo would withdraw. The front of the machine would rotate, selecting another, and shove it abruptly into me, and the process would begin again; the machine would violate me, thrusting the dildo in and out until it wrested another orgasm from me. By this point in the fantasy, I'd usually be thoroughly soaked, pushing my fingers into myself or thrusting my hips against my favorite vibrator while I imagined the machine forcing orgasm after orgasm out of me, all under the detached eye of the mad scientist. I would sometimes fantasize that he would keep me there all night, until I was far beyond the point of exhaustion, no longer able to struggle against the machine as it ripped an endless series of orgasms out of my body, as he dutifully recorded every moan and every shudder in his notebook. But I digress. I never shared any of my sexual fantasies with my last boyfriend before Mark. It was an ill-fated relationship to begin with; our first argument came when he discovered my collection of vibrators, and tried to convince me to throw them all away because I didn't need them as long as I was with him. Honestly, I will never understand why some men feel so threatened by a few dollars' worth of plastic and some batteries. The final straw came when we were watching a TV show about sex one night; one of the people on the show was talking about bondage, and I thought it sounded like fun, and he thought it sounded like the sort of thing only a sicko or a pervert would like, and that was that. So after that I determined to change my romantic life. I cut my long, flowing red hair short and spiky; I bought my first leather miniskirt; and I resolved not to date again until I'd found someone with interests and fantasies as weird as mine. Which, I was sure, would keep me celibate for quite a long time. Fate, as it turned out, had other plans. I met Mark on an online dating site about three months later. His profile listed "creative sex games" as one of his interests, I asked him about it, and... Well, maybe that's a story for another time. His interests and fantasies are as weird as mine, though, no doubt about it. Mark loves little more than inventing elaborate scenarios for us to play. He's become extraordinarily skilled at manipulating my sexual responses, creating sex games that tease and torment both of us so deliciously; every time I think he can't get more wonderfully devious, or push my buttons any more devilishly, he outdoes himself. Mark can turn anything into a sex game. In fact, when we'd been talking by email and chat for a while and we had started thinking about talking on the phone, even giving me his phone number became a game-one that took an entire exhilarating, frustrating, intensely erotic day and a drive all over town to win. But that's definitely a story for another time. The story about how I ended up bound in the closet began early in our relationship. I had told him that I had been so bored with my previous partners that I'd begun to wonder if I was a lesbian, which amused him greatly. He made me change my sexual orientation to "bisexual" on all my online profiles, and would tease me whenever another woman would flirt with me online, running his hands over my body and sliding his fingers between my legs as he made me read their words out loud. It was very dirty and a bit scary and shockingly erotic all at once, and even though I couldn't actually see myself with another woman, the fantasy became a fun game in itself. This morning started out as an ordinary Friday like any other. Mark was up and out before me, and had long since left by the time I got out of bed. I stumbled into the bathroom, showered, dressed, went into the kitchen to fix myself breakfast... ...and saw that he'd left my favorite vibrator sitting in the center of the kitchen table, a sheet of paper neatly folded next to it with my name written on it. Instantly, my nipples hardened, and I couldn't suppress the smile that grew across my face. I picked up the sheet of paper, and discovered a lacy push-up bra and a small lacy G-string beneath it. My grin got even wider as I unfolded the sheet of paper and read. "My dearest Kiki Ann, I have a most wonderful surprise planned for you this evening. I want you to be well-prepared for it, so I want you good and horny all day. I got you a new bra and a new pair of panties, which I'd like you to wear today. Also, I think it would be most appropriate for you to wear your skirt and that blouse I like so much. To help get you in the proper mood, I've taken the liberty of getting out your vibrator for you. I'd like you to take it to work with you, and use it to tease yourself throughout the day. Just to get things started, you should masturbate to orgasm right here in the kitchen. Enjoy it while you can; I want you to tease yourself later on today, but I don't want you to have another orgasm until tonight, so you'll be suitably horny. I'll call you later this afternoon. See you tonight! xoxoxo Mark" As I read, I felt myself getting more aroused still. My nipples stood out almost painfully, and I felt the tingling growing between my legs. Without a second thought, I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it to the kitchen floor. My bra followed; I ran my hands over my breasts as I stripped it off, then rolled my nipples through my fingers, pinching them lightly. I sat on the edge of the table and pull ed my shoes and socks off, then peeled off my practical, professional, and wholly inappropriate slacks. Then, clad in nothing but a pair of thin white cotton panties, I lay back on the kitchen table and closed my eyes. I searched my memories of the past few days, trying to think of anything he might have said or done to drop some kind of hint about what he was up to, but nothing came to mind. Whatever it was, he'd been playing it close to the chest. I ran my hands over my breasts again, feeling a damp spot growing on my panties. I began stroking very lightly, running my hands in slow, lazy circles over my breasts, barely touching them. My fingertips grazed lightly over my nipples, teasing them, causing the tingle between my legs to build. I smiled, savoring the sensation, feeling my body respond. I began lingering over my nipples, flicking my fingernails against them and rolling them between my fingers, coaxing them to greater sensitivity. When they were achingly sensitive, jutting out diamond-hard, I carefully took each one between my fingers, pinching them lightly between thumb and forefinger. I lay like that for a long moment, still smiling, caressing my nipples between my fingers, then suddenly clamped down, twisting and pulling them as hard as I could. I heard myself cry out at the deliciously sharp sensation. Warm wetness flooded between my legs, quickly saturating the panties and dripping down my thigh. I continued to pull on my nipples, twisting them sharply, as I rocked my hips, feeling the tight fabric move against my clit. I heard myself moan, the sound turning into a gasp when my nipples slipped suddenly out of my fingers. I slid my hands over my breasts again, pressing my palms flat against my hypersensitive nipples, then began stroking my body. One hand slid up to my throat as the other moved downward, caressing my stomach and my thighs. I teased myself that way, my fingers lightly scurrying over my soaking panties, just barely missing the most sensitive places, the places I wanted most to touch. Then, at last, when I could bear no more, I stopped, taking my hands away from my body and sitting up. I hopped off the table and picked up the vibrator. I sat down in one of the polished wood, high-backed chairs and leaned back, spreading my legs with my feet on the table. I slid my sodden panties down to my knees, leaving them there stretched taut between my legs, then slowly and deliberately drew one finger up along my pussy, parting my labia lips and slipping my fingertip directly over my clit. I drew a shuddering breath at the sensation, and felt the juices pour around my fingertip. I turned the vibrator on its lowest setting and leaned back in my chair, bringing it between my legs and running it lightly over my clit. The vibrations set up little shockwaves in my pussy, and I felt my juices dripping from me again. A small sound, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, escaped my lips. I rocked my hips in the chair, moving myself against the humming vibrator, as my other hand slid over my breast. My fingers found my aching nipple, and I began squeezing it, gradually increasing the pressure as I parted my legs wider and slowly slid the vibrator into my dripping pussy. When the vibrator had penetrated me deeply, I clamped my muscles tightly around it and held it there, feeling the vibration working its magic. I masturbated that way, fingers clamping hard on my nipple as my other hand held the vibrator buried deep inside me. I rocked my hips against the hard, unyielding toy, my breathing deep and ragged. When I felt the orgasm begin building within me, I twisted the knob on the vibrator, cranking it instantly to its maximum speed. The vibrations slammed through me, wrenching the orgasm out of me; I threw my head back, a series of short gasping moans escaping from me as my pussy twitched and spasmed. Then, as suddenly as it had come, it was over. I turned the vibrator off and slid it out of me, then brought my legs together, the soggy panties hanging loosely between them. I released my nipple with a little squeak, feeling the sudden pain as the blood rushed into it. The vibrator was thickly coated with my creamy juices; I slid it into my mouth, savoring the taste as I licked it clean. Then I stood, kicking aside the panties as they fell to the floor, and picked up the new clothing. I walked naked into the bathroom, leaving my discarded clothes lying on the kitchen floor, to try on Mark's gifts. The new panties left precious little to the imagination; they were little more than a tiny triangle of satin, with lace in the front, tapering to a narrow G-string in the back. They slid up the crack between my cheeks as I put them on. I pulled them up tight, then turned my back to the mirror, looking over my shoulder as I leaned over and waggled my ass, admiring how the panties exposed my butt. Next came the bra. I slipped it on, watching how it pressed my breasts together, lifting them and creating cleavage I didn't even know I had. I posed in front of the mirror, running my hands over my body, turning this way and that. I felt incredibly sexy and feminine, the skimpy underwear accenting the soft curves of my body. I went into the bedroom and rummaged in the closet, finding the skirt and blouse he'd told me to wear. The skirt, black and dark purple , ended well above my knee; Mark liked it because he appreciated what he called the "easy access" it allowed. The blouse was a white satin button-up number that fit me very tightly; with the added boost of the push-up bra, the thin material strained across my breasts. Mark hadn't specified what kind of shoes to wear, so I picked out a pair of boots I knew he'd like-dark leather, nearly knee-high, with a short heel. Long black socks completed the ensemble. I returned to the bathroom to check out the effect. Dark red hair, short and spiky; pale skin, lightly dusted with freckles; hazel eyes; curvy, perky breasts straining against the tight white blouse; short skirt; long boots... I felt deliciously naughty. I ran my hands over my breasts again, pinching and squeezing my sensitive nipples until they stood erect, and turned sideways, admiring the effect in the mirror. I lifted my skirt, waggling my hips back and forth, until I could see the lace peeking out beneath it, and grinned impishly. It was a very sexy outfit, no doubt about it; almost, but not quite, too sexy to wear to the closing this morning... ..The closing! I'd gotten so carried away I'd almost forgot about it, and now I was running late. I scooped up my purse and dashed for the door, pausing only to snatch the vibrator off the kitchen table where I'd left it. I raced for my car, and drove to the office like a woman possessed. Fortunately, the morning commute had died down, and little traffic stood in my way. I made it to the office with five minutes to spare, and waltzed into the conference room precisely on time, a stack of papers under my arm. The closing went smoothly. I couldn't really concentrate; my mind was occupied with what Mark might have in store for me this evening, and my arousal was like a steady background hum, keeping me from focusing. Twice during the proceedings, when I shifted in my chair I felt my own wetness, which made me feel delightfully, deviously naughty. At one point, about midway through the closing, while the loan officer droned on and on about the finer points of fixed and variable rate interests, my mind wandered to the vibrator in my purse. A little tingle of excitement shot through me at the thought of masturbating right here at work, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face...or keep my nipples from hardening. I fantasized about taking myself right here on the conference room table, imagined what it would be like to strip myself naked, spread my legs wide, and attack myself rough and hard with my vibrator until I screamed in ecstasy. I closed my eyes as I pictured myself getting on my hands and knees and licking the puddle of wetness from the smooth, polished table, imagined the thrill I'd get from bringing a client into the conference room the next day for a boring, ordinary closing, secretly knowing what I'd done to myself right thee on that very table... Nobody else took any notice. The buyers, a young newlywed couple, were purchasing their first house, and were much too excited to pay the slightest attention to anyone else. The loan officer was bored and disinterested; this probably wasn't his first appointment of the day, and it certainly wouldn't be his last. At last, the paperwork was all signed and the closing was over. I shook hands with the happy buyers, noticing that the husband's eyes swept me from head to foot as I did, and smiled inwardly, wondering if he'd be thinking about me later that night. I made polite small talk with the loan officer for a couple of minutes, then excused myself and headed for the ladies' room. I locked myself in one of the stalls, then sat on the toilet seat, leaning my head back, and pinched my nipples through my blouse. Kiki's Story: The Sale Almost immediately, I felt myself getting wet. My juices quickly overwhelmed the thin fabric of the new panties and spilled out, trickling down my thighs. I lifted my skirt and ran my fingers over my thighs, then brought them to my lips and slid my tongue between them, tasting the evidence of my arousal. Mark wanted me horny all day for whatever nefarious plot he'd cooked up, and it sure wasn't turning out to be difficult to keep myself that way. I reached into my purse, taking out the vibrator. I turned it on to its lowest setting, then began running it lightly over my panties, teasing myself with it. When I felt my body begin to quiver, I turned up the vibrator, and pressed it firmly against my clit. I heard myself gasp, and shoved my fingers into my mouth, trying to keep quiet. With my other hand, I pulled the thin satiny material of the panties to one side and penetrated myself with the vibrator, shoving it in deeply with one hard thrust. I threw my head back, my scream muffled by the fingers in my mouth, feeling myself just on the verge of orgasm... ...then shut the vibrator off and pulled it quickly from my grasping pussy. I felt myself whimper, the sound a tiny squeak around my fingers. I withdrew my fingers from my mouth and grabbed my nipple as it protruded from my blouse, twisting it as hard as I could, balanced on the razor's edge of an intense orgasm. Finally, the feeling subsided, fading into a dull background sense of need and desire. I released my nipple, and brought the vibrator to my mouth, lightly brushing the tip along my lips, coating them with my sweetness. I licked my lips, savoring it, then slowly and thoroughly licked the vibrator clean. After I had licked all traces of my juices from the vibrator, I pulled my panties to the side again and penetrated myself once more, sliding the vibrator completely within me. When it was buried inside me, I pulled my panties into position and rose unsteadily, smoothing my skirt back down. I paused at the mirror to check myself over, making sure I was at least reasonably presentable, then walked back to my office, the vibrator shifting within me, tormenting me at every step. The rest of the morning passed in a hazy blur. I made some phone calls, scheduled some showings for later in the week, checked on the status of a few more closings; all mechanically, my attention on my arousal and the vibrator planted insistently inside me. I felt myself rocking my hips back and forth as I sat at my desk, causing it to shift and move within me, scarcely even aware I was doing it until I felt the wetness spilling out of me. Finally, it was time for lunch. I returned to the ladies' room and slid the vibrator out of my pussy, then carefully licked it clean once more before returning it to my purse. I smoothed down my skirt again, and headed out to find lunch. I was standing in line at Wendy's, when my phone rang, the special ring tone I'd assigned to Mark. "Hey!" "Hey yourself, you sexy little vixen. What are you wearing?" "Mark!" I said, laughing. "I can't talk about it right now." The line jostled, and I took a few steps forward. "Listen, this really isn't the best time to-" "Why not? Are you with a client?" "No! I'm in line at Wendy's, waiting to order. Call me back in-" "Sounds like a perfect time to me," he purred. "Are you wearing what I told you to wear?" "Mmm-hmm," I replied, "I sure am." "And is your pussy wet?" "Mark!" I exclaimed. I covered the cell phone with my hand and glanced around, trying to figure out if anyone had overheard him. "Call me back-" "It's just a simple yes or no question. Are you dripping? Is your pussy lubricated? Are your juices running down your thigh?" I felt my nipples harden, so sensitive from the rough treatment I'd been giving them all morning that sharp pain radiated through my breasts. My pussy twitched, and I inhaled sharply, trying to keep from whimpering. "Yes," I whispered, feeling like my aroused state must be obvious to everyone in line around me. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," he said conversationally. "Is your pussy wet or not?" "Yes, it is!" I exclaimed, and then cringed as the people behind me turned to stare. "Yes," I repeated, struggling to keep my voice level. "The answer to your question is 'yes' on all counts." He laughed. "You sound distressed!" "I am! You're making me..." I stopped suddenly, acutely aware of the eyes on me. A bead of something that I hoped was sweat rolled down my inner thigh, stopping at my knee. The line moved forward again. "Can I take your order?" The kid behind the register looked like a college student. His eyes were glued to my breasts, unwavering. I brought the phone away from my ear, grateful for the momentary respite; his eyes never left my breasts for a moment as I placed my order. The service was nothing if not efficient; two other people, both of them also kids, scurried to collect my order, which was on my tray before I'd even finished paying. I arched my back and ran one hand through my hair, then winked at him as I picked up the tray and turned away. The kid gave me a look that was positively pornographic, and I tried to hide my smile as I walked away. I settled into a booth in the corner, then picked up the phone again. "Sorry, I'm back..." "Indeed. So, just out of curiosity, how wet are you right now?" "Very! You know me." "Yes, I do. Put your finger between your legs and check." "Mark! I'm sitting in a fast food place!" "I know. And I bet it'll turn you on, won't it? Check to see how wet you are!" I scrunched down in the corner of the booth, glancing around to see if anyone was paying attention to me, then slipped one hand beneath the table and slowly scooted the skirt up. With another furtive glance around, I slid my finger over the lacy panties, then slipped them aside and penetrated myself. "Mmmm...uhhh...very!" I whispered, withdrawing my finger and pushing my clothes back into place. "Good. Do you know what I would like to do to you right now?" "No, what?" Laughter. "I'd like to bend you over the desk in your office, hike your skirt up, and take you from behind, right now. I'd like to grab your thighs and slam my cock into that wet pussy of yours..." "Mark! This really isn't the right place for this!" "Put your finger in your mouth. I'd like to keep fucking you that way, slamming my hard cock into you over and over again, until I made you come. And then you know what I'd do?" "Mmm?" I answered, noticing that somehow my finger, covered in my juices, had crept into my mouth. "I'd pull you off the desk, sit you down on the floor, and put my wet, dripping cock into your mouth. I'd let you taste your come all over me, and then a minute later, I'd let you taste my come. I know how much you love tasting sex." I closed my eyes as I listened, my tongue playing over my finger, imagining the scene in my head, so I didn't even notice when the college kid who'd taken my order walked up to my booth. "Can I get anything more for you?" I jumped, startled. "Um...no, no, I'm fine. Thanks." He was standing slightly behind me, trying his best to look down my shirt without being obtrusive about it, and failing miserably. I heard Mark laugh. "Well, you sound like you're busy. I'll see you tonight!" He hung up, and I finished my lunch quickly and scurried out. The rest of the day was a complete blank. I barely accomplished any work; all I could think about was how desperately horny I was, and how I could barely wait to find out what Mark was up to. Finally, the end of the day rolled around, On the way home, I was quivering with excitement, alternating between fantasies of Mark bending me over my desk and wondering what he had planned for the evening. As it turned out, I didn't have long to wait; his car was in the driveway when I arrived home. I positively bounded up the steps and into the house. He was waiting for me in the living room; I'd barely closed the door before he pinned me against the wall by my wrists and began kissing me roughly. I moaned and squirmed against him, thrusting my hips against his as his tongue invaded my mouth. His grip tightened on my wrists as he leaned against me, grinding into me, letting me feel his erection through his jeans. Then, abruptly, he broke the kiss and released me. "Mmm, hey, sexy!" I burbled, grinning. "What-" He leaned in close to me, and whispered in my ear, "Shh! No talking." He pulled a long piece of dark cloth from his pocket and placed it over my eyes, tying it behind my back, blindfolding me. My entire body trembled with excitement, and I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face. When the blindfold was tied securely in place, he ran his fingers lightly down my arms, making me shiver. His hands slid back up my arms to my shoulders, then across my throat, so lightly I could barely feel it. His fingers found the top button on my blouse, and unfastened it. I slid my hands up his chest and leaned close, my mouth hungering for a kiss; immediately, he seized my wrists and pushed them away, pinning them behind me. His hands traveled back up my arms to my collar, and he resumed unbuttoning my blouse, achingly slowly. I desperately wanted him to rip it from my body, pin me to the floor and take me hard; his slow, deliberate teasing was an almost unbearable torment. Finally, he reached the last button and unfastened it, leaving my blouse hanging open. His fingers went to the waistband of my skirt, sliding it down my legs and over my boots. His hands left me, and I heard him unzip his pants; then I felt his hands on my shoulders, and without a word he pushed me to my knees. I knelt blindfolded in front of him, arms still behind my back, my blouse hanging open, dressed only in bra, panties, and boots. I felt the head of his erect cock, a drop of pre-come already formed on is tip, sliding against my lips, leaving a trail of warm, salty wetness. I parted my lips and took the head into my mouth, running my tongue in circles over it, and was rewarded with his moan. I leaned backward slightly, letting the head of his cock slip out of my mouth, then drew it back in again, slowly, slightly farther this time. I teased him that way for a long time, allowing his cock to slip from my mouth, then taking it back in, slightly farther each time, until finally I had taken his entire shaft deep within my mouth. His hands gripped my shoulders, and I felt my own juices running freely down my inner thighs. When I had taken it all into my mouth, I began sucking his cock in earnest, bobbing my head along the entire length of his shaft in long, slow strokes. His grip tightened on my shoulders and I heard him moan again. My tongue played along the underside of his cock, coaxing the orgasm out of him. His penis stiffened in my mouth and his moans became more urgent, and I increased my pace, rocking back and forth on my knees, ramming his cock into my mouth over and over again, feeling the head push against the back of his throat. He cried out as he erupted in my mouth, his warm musky come gushing down my throat. I drank it in greedily, working to contain it all. He slipped his softening penis from my mouth and helped me stand, silently, without a word. He slipped the blouse off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I stepped over the skirt on the ground, then he led me by the hand, still blindfolded, into the bedroom. I heard him open the closet door, then he turned me around and pushed me in, backward, pressing me into the hanging clothes. He took my wrists in his hands and guided them to the rod that spanned the closet; then, I felt a rope lash around one wrist. Before I could react, he bound it in place. Moving quickly and efficiently, he bound my other wrist as well, then pushed my legs apart. My ankles were quickly bound to the corners of the closet, holding my legs apart. I tested the bonds experimentally, and realized they were quite secure. I felt his fingertips on my chest, lightly stroking the bare skin above the bra. Then, for the first time since he had undressed me, he spoke. "I want you to be very accommodating and compliant this evening. When you are kissed, you will return the kiss. When you are touched, fondled, or groped, you will do whatever you can, even in your limited capacity when you're tied up in here, to make yourself available. However, you may not speak until I tell you to. Do you understand? I nodded silently, quivering. "Good. I have something planned for you that I think you're going to like very, very much." His fingers stroked my skin softly, then caressed and fondled my breasts. I sighed and pressed my body forward, offering them to him. He leaned forward, his breath warm on my ear, and continued, "I've arranged to have a lady friend of mine stop by this evening. She's quite eager to get to know you, so I've offered to sell you to her for the evening." I lurched backward in surprise, opening my mouth to speak. His fingers clamped down hard on my nipples, turning the word into a gasp of pain. "Hush! Behave yourself. As soon as we've agreed on a price, I will expect you to care for her needs." His fingers released my nipples, and his hands caressed my body, sliding along my sides. He drew me against him and kissed me deeply, his tongue invading my mouth; then he turned to go, giving my nipples one last squeeze before he closed the closet door. I have no idea how long I waited, bound in the closet, in the darkness, blindfolded, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to call out, tell him to untie me, explain that I wasn't really bisexual, that I didn't have the faintest idea what to do with another woman; but I also wanted to see it through, find out if he really was planning to sell my body to someone else, for real. After a time, which might have been minutes or hours, I heard the doorbell ring. The sound startled me, making me jump; I heard, distantly, the door open, heard muffled and indistinct sounds from somewhere far off in the front of the house. Then the sound of the bedroom door opening, and voices outside the closet. "Doing your bank account a favor, I'll warrant. Tell you what. I'll offer you four hundred and fifty dollars, right now, and we'll call it a deal." "Four hundred and fifty dollars? That's highway robbery! I can't take a penny less than seven hundred!" A pause, and then a low chuckle. "Do I get to inspect the merchandise?" "Of course," Mark said. "Feel free to make sure she's up to your specifications." I heard the closet door open, then the woman's voice again. "Oh, my, she is lovely! She's a natural redhead, you say?" "Indeed she is," Mark said. "And freckles, too! Mmmm, she is absolutely adorable. I could almost gobble her up right here!" I heard a quicksilver laugh, then felt the sense of a sudden presence before me. A pair of soft lips touched mine. I flinched, then forced myself to remain still. A hand came up, stroking the back of my neck lightly; then I felt the tip of her tongue flick gently against my lips, seeking entry. Remembering Mark's instructions, I parted my lips, returning her kiss, and pressed my body against hers. She kissed me very deeply, her tongue exploring my mouth. Her hand slid down my back, sensuously, raising goose bumps on my skin. The kiss went on forever, deep and sensual and passionate and taking my breath away. I felt her hands slide over my breasts. I froze for a moment, then willed myself to respond, pressing my breasts forward into her hands. Her lips stayed on mine as one of her hands slid slowly down my body. I felt myself tremble uncontrollably as her fingers slipped between my legs; I fought the urge to try to pull away, instead forcing myself to open my legs wider and grind against her hand. Her fingers began moving in small circles over the most sensitive part of my body, and I couldn't stop the whimper from escaping me. Then she was gone, and I heard her laugh. "She is very willing, isn't she? I bet she's a lot of fun. I'll tell you what-five hundred dollars." "Six hundred, and-" "Five fifty. And I get her all night." A long pause. A part of me could not believe I was here, bound half-naked in the closet and blindfolded while my boyfriend haggled over selling my body for the night; another part found it shockingly erotic. Then, "Deal!" Mark said. "Five hundred and fifty dollars. She's all yours. You won't be disappointed." "Mmm, I'm sure I won't." I heard small, indistinct noises, then she said "There you go, five hundred and fifty dollars!" A pair of hands slipped the cloth from my eyes, and I saw her for the first time. Long, straight black hair, with bangs framing a pair of startling green eyes; a lithe, trim body, compact and well-rounded breasts; conservative, businesslike blouse and slacks. She was a strikingly beautiful, woman, and she radiated calm self-confidence. "Well, then, shall I wrap her up for you?" Mark asked. "No, that won't be necessary, I'll take her like she is," she replied, her eyes not leaving mine. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name's Lisa, and you must be Kimberly." I nodded. From over Lisa's shoulder, Mark said, "Our transaction is concluded, so you can speak freely now." "Kiki. My friends call me Kiki. But I'm not...I'm not really, y'know..." I stammered awkwardly. "Kiki it is, then. But you're not really what?" She arched one eyebrow, the corner of her mouth turned up in a smile. "I'm not really...you know, into women. I'm not really bisexual." She laughed that silvery laugh, her eyes dancing. "Oh, I know! That's what makes this so much fun, don't you think?" She wrinkled her nose playfully at me. "Besides, how will you really know until you try?" She turned away, picking up a tasteful and expensive-looking purse from the bead, and drew something out of it. "Here, let's just get you ready to go," she said, and slipped a black leather collar around my neck. "Um, I don't know about this," I said, suddenly apprehensive. "Go where?" "Why, to my house, of course! I just bought your services for the night." She winked at me, then drew a long black leash from the purse and clipped it to the front of the collar. She let the leash dangle between my breasts as she untied my wrists from the pole above my head, then bent and released the ropes around my boots. Then, leading me by the leash, she drew me out into the bedroom. "Okay, we're ready!" she called out to Mark. "I'll bring her back to you in the morning." "Wait!" I said. "Shouldn't I-I mean, don't you think I should get dressed first or something?" She turned to me, looking me up and down. "Now why would you want to go and do a thing like that? You look absolutely splendid just the way you are!" "Well, but, I mean...I don't know about leaving. I don't know you or anything, and I'm not really...you know..." "It's okay," Mark said gently. "You'll be fine. I wouldn't put you in harm's way, I promise." He came over to me and kissed me on the cheek. " I looked down at the floor, uncertain, considering calling a halt to this then and there. Yet at the same time, I trusted him implicitly; if he believed I would be safe with this woman, I would. But still... Almost without conscious awareness, I felt myself reach a decision. Without a word, I looked up at him and nodded. He smiled. "Off you go!" Lisa picked up the leash and led me out of the house, into the driveway. Her car, a gray Mercedes something or other, was parked in front of the door; I focused my attention on it, trying hard not to think about one of our neighbors seeing me here, wearing only my underwear and boots, being led by this strange woman. The few yards to the car seemed like miles, and when she opened the passenger door for me, I slipped into the seat like a nun seeking sanctuary. "Yeah," a voice in my mind thought, "just like that. There's nothing holy about this..." Kiki's Story: The Sale She slid in on the other side and started the car. For several minutes we drove in silence, then she reached over coyly and squeezed my knee. "Relax! This will be fun." I bit my lip. "I really don't know...this is going farther than I thought it would..." She grinned and wrinkled her nose. "Nonsense! We're almost there!" "That's not what I me-" Her hand slid up my thigh and between my legs, and I stopped mid-word with a sigh. She laughed. "You'll do just fine." True to her word, we didn't have far to go. We drove into a high-end subdivision and pulled up in front of a sprawling, two-story house. She opened the car door, then crossed around to open my door. Taking me by the leash, she drew me out of the car and up to the front door. The house was huge; the front door opened into a wide living room, floored in polished wood. A long leather couch faced toward the fireplace that dominated the far wall. She led me to the couch, draping the leash over the back. "Make yourself at home," she purred, "I'll be right back." I sat uncertainly, feeling slightly uncomfortable, wondering how far I was going to let this go. A part of me was surprised I hadn't ended the game already, explained to her in no uncertain terms that I was not comfortable with a female lover, and certainly not like this, sold to her for the evening. I could have ended it a long tie ago, back when Mark bound me in the closet and told me what he'd intended to do with me, but for some reason I didn't; I was too aroused, and the idea had seemed intoxicatingly erotic. But now, alone in the home of a strange woman, it was altogether too real... "Here you go," she said, reappearing at my shoulder and handing me a goblet of wine. She had changed into a long silk robe, loosely tied in the middle, the curves of her breasts faintly visible through the thin material. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, reaching nearly to her waist. I accepted the wineglass numbly, still wondering how long I was going to let this go. She curled up on the couch next to me, looking at me over the rim of her own wineglass with those startling green eyes. "To the unexpected," she said, a tiny smile tugging the corner of her lip, and drank. I took a sip from my own glass, studying her, not sure what to say or do. She regarded me levelly, still with that tiny smile, as if she was waiting for something, or perhaps challenging me. I sipped from the wineglass again, then took a deep breath, steadying myself, and resolved to grab the bull by the horns. "You're a beautiful woman, you seem like you're successful, I'm sure there are plenty of women or men or whatever who would be very attracted to you, so why would you need to-" "Pay for it?" she said, raising one eyebrow. "Buy your services? Spend money to have sex with you?" She laughed. "Because it's fun! Because seducing you sounds so delightful! But that's not the real question, is it? That's not the question you should be asking." "Oh? And what is the question I should be asking, then?" She settled back into the couch and laughed. "The question you should be asking is, why are you here at all? Why did you let your boyfriend sell your body to another woman?" "I didn't! I-" She leaned forward, placing the tip of her finger on my lips. "I don't even know what you're about to say," she said, "but I can tell you don't believe it yourself. You did; you could have said 'no.'" She leaned back. "But you didn't. You thought about it, but you didn't. And now, here you are. Finish your wine!" We finished our drinks in silence. She looked very pleased with herself; my mind reeled in confusion. The truth was, I couldn't answer her questions, and the fact that she knew it was maddening and frustrating all at once. Finally, she set down her empty wine glass and leaned toward me. Her fingers brushed the side of my face, then ran lightly down over my neck and caressed my bare shoulder. I flinched, leaning away from her. She didn't seem to notice. Her fingers stroked my skin lightly, then trailed down over the curve of my breast, stopping where they met the lace of the bra. I pressed back into the couch, struggling to deal with the mix of emotions washing over me. She stood, suddenly, and picked up the leash. "Follow me," she said. I rose behind her, and she led me down a short hallway into an enormous master bedroom. The bedroom was dominated by a huge, old-fashioned heavy wood poster bed, with a fine gauzy canopy draped over it. The floor in the bedroom, like the floor in the living room, was polished wood, with thick throw rugs scattered about. She brought me to the edge of the bed and pressed lightly on my shoulder, sitting me down on the edge. She leaned over me, sliding her hands around my shoulders. "I like your boots," she said softly, her lips inches from my ear, as she unclipped the leash from the collar around my neck. Straightening, she said, "take them off." I did as I was bidden, unlacing the long black boots and pulling them off, then stripping off my socks. She sat next to me and picked up a small glass bottle from the heavy oak nightstand at the head of the bed. "You're very tense, Kiki. Lie down and turn over. I'm going to give you a massage. Scented oil, the works." "No! This is going too far. I'm not-" She put her fingers over my lips. "Ssh. You spend far too much time talking. It's just a massage. Lie down." I did, feeling helpless. I felt her straddle me, heard her pouring the massage oil into her hands,; then her warm, slippery hands began massaging my shoulders. The gentle scent of vanilla surrounded me. I sighed into the pillow; her hands were highly skilled, and seemed to find all the tenseness in my shoulders instinctively, teasing the stress out of me. I closed my eyes and felt myself relaxing. She took her time, lingering over my shoulders, working her way very slowly down my back. When her fingers found the edge of my bra, she paused, releasing the clasp. Her hands slid around my sides and she grazed her fingertips lightly over the sides of my breasts. I flinched again, and heard her chuckle. Then her hands were working their magic farther down my back, sliding over the cheeks of my butt. I felt her strong fingers stroking and massaging the backs of my legs, then sliding up my inner thighs, and I felt my body respond; felt the warm wetness between my legs, as the scent of my arousal mingled with vanilla. Soon after, those hands were doing something wonderful to my feet, and I felt myself floating off as my body melted under her touch. A timeless time later, I felt a light touch on my shoulder. "Roll over so I can do your front." She helped me turn over, gently, and I felt her slip away the bra that loosely covered my breasts. I opened my eyes suddenly, to see her leaning over me. She had removed her robe, and was kneeling nude beside me. Her nipples were large and very hard, and her hair was swept back behind her. Her eyes traveled openly over my body, glittering with hunger. I felt suddenly vulnerable under her gaze, and covered my breasts with my arms. She smiled and shook her head, took my wrists in her hands, then drew my arms away from my body and placed them at my sides. "You have such a beautiful body," she said. "Why would you want to cover it?" I opened my mouth to reply, but she shook her head again, still smiling. She placed her hand palm-up between my breasts, then poured some massage oil into it. The smell of vanilla, and then her hands were slipping over my body, working their way from my shoulders down across my breasts and up my sides, in long, firm strokes. My nipples hardened under her hands. She ran her fingers up my nipples, massaging them, and stroking them, up and down. I moaned, and her fingers tighten their grip, making me shiver. Her smile widened. She lay next to me, her body lightly pressed against mine, and bent her head down, taking my nipple into her mouth. I shuddered and closed my eyes. Her hand caressed my thigh, then slid between my legs, and I felt her finger on the thin fabric of my panties, running lightly over my clit. "No!" I said suddenly, pushing her hand away from me. "I'm not ready for that yet." She sat up, quickly and grabbed my wrists, pinning my arms over my head. Her eyes flashed green fire. She held my wrists there with one hand, while her other traveled down to my panties. She slid them down to my knees, as I squirmed beneath her, struggling to free my hands. She slid her hand between my legs; I clamped my legs shut, to keep her probing fingers away, and she dug her nails into the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, forcing me to part them again. She ran her fingers between my labia lips, and I could feel my wetness between my legs. She brought her fingers up to examine them, and I could see my juices glistening on them. "You seem ready to me," she said. She released my wrists and finished stripping the panties off me, leaving me naked. "No! I don't think that..." She put two fingers over my lips. "What did I tell you before? Less talking, more sex." She took her fingers away from my lips, then ran them lightly over my throat. "Lie still. I'm going to devour you now." She crawled between my legs, pushing them apart. I felt the juices dripping freely from my pussy, soaking the silky bed sheet beneath me. I stared at the ceiling, breathing hard, my hands still above my head. "This can't be happening," I though, "this isn't happening, this isn't happening," a mantra running silently in my mind. Her tongue touched me. I cried out and tried to escape, scurrying up the bed away from her probing tongue. She grabbed my hips firmly and pulled me down, holding me tightly. Her tongue penetrated me, slid over me, ran in tiny circles around my clit. "No! No, please!" I cried, thrashing, trying to twist my hips from her grip. Her inquisitive tongue seemed to know all the right places to move against me, finding all the secret ways to make my body respond, submerging my will beneath waves of intense pleasure. "Please," I said hoarsely, feeling my control slip away as the orgasm built deep inside of me. I fought against it, struggling to escape her grip, to keep my control, but no matter how I twisted and turned, her tongue stayed with me. Then I couldn't contain the orgasm any longer and it was upon me. I arched my back, thrusting myself against her face, screaming as I came, helpless in the grip of the most powerful orgasm I'd felt in days. It went on and on, while lightning exploding through my body. When it ended, I collapsed into darkness, spent, panting. Her quicksilver laugh guided me back to the light. I opened my eyes to see her straddling me, her hair flowing down around her and lightly tickling my skin, her face drenched in my come. Mmm, I can't believe how wet you get!" she purred. "It's delightful!" She reached down, taking my hands in hers, then placed my hands over her breasts, holding them there. Her hands covered mine, her fingers squeezing, fondling her firm, compact breasts with my hands. Her back arched, and she threw her head back and sighed, eyes closed. "Ooh, that feels good." One hand left mine,; her fingertip parted my lips, then slipped inside. She ground her hips against me, her juices glistening wetly in my pubic hair, as my hands fondled and caressed her breasts and her finger slid insistently in and out of my mouth. Her breathing quickened, her sighs becoming moans. "Mmmm...I think that...oh, God...it's time for you to...oh, God, yes...return the favor," she gasped. She pulled her finger from my mouth and moved up my body, kneeling over my face. "Lick me!" I parted the folds of her labia gingerly with my tongue. Instantly, she pressed down onto my face and began rocking her hips back and forth, grinding against my face, driving my tongue into her. I tasted the warm juices flowing out of her, muskier and less tangy than my own. She rode me that way, kneeling over me and grinding herself against my face, as I lapped frantically at her pussy. "Oh, God, oh my God, don't you dare stop, oh God, right there, oh GOD!" She laughed and shrieked and cried out as she came, twitching and thrusting against my tongue. "Whew!" She sprang off me and sat crosslegged next to me, still laughing. "That was fun!" Her eyes glowed as they ran over my naked body, and she reached out and squeezed one of my nipples playfully. "Do you know what's better than a cute redhead in my bed?" she asked, grinning impishly. "Huh?" I shook my head,, confused. "A cute redhead in my bed with my come on her face!" she said. Then she was on top of me, her body pressed tightly against mine, kissing me deeply. Her tongue thrust insistently into my mouth, and I tasted both of us, the flavor of our sex mingling. Her arms wrapped tightly around me as I returned the kiss, her tongue pushing into my mouth again and again. Then she broke the kiss and held me tightly, chucking evilly in my ear. "Oh, Kiki, you are so much fun to play with! I have a surprise for you." I looked at her blankly as she sat up next to me. "What's that?" Still chuckling, she reached across me, opening the drawer on the nightstand as she leaned over me. She pressed her breast against my mouth, and I drew my tongue across her nipple, winning a gasp from her. Then she sat back up, grinning, her eyes dancing, hiding her hands behind her back. "Well, first, we'll need this," she said, holding up a bottle of thick, milky-colored lube. "Even as wet as you are, I think it's still going to come in handy." "Why?" "Because I want to use this," she said, bringing her other hand from behind her back. She held up an enormous black dildo, larger in circumference than my wrist, with a huge bulbous head and thick, ridged veins molded into it. My eyes widened in shock at the sight of it; I'd never seen such a large sex toy before. "No way!" I said. "No way! You can't be serious! There is absolutely no way you can use that...that thing on me! It's too big!" "Yes way," she said. "Now, you can lie still or I can tie you up, but one way or another, this dildo is going into you. Trust me, it's not as hard as you think. And I think you'll like it." She wrinkled her nose mischievously at me. "I know I will!" "No!" I sat up. "Lisa, I'm serious. I'm not-" In a flash, she had dropped the dildo and the bottle of lube and was on top of me, wrestling me down to the bed. I struggled to free myself, but she only laughed. She straddled me, her thighs locked around me, and held me down against the bed. Lisa was a lot stronger than me, and it was a hopelessly lopsided contest. "Oh, yes, struggle, I love when you struggle!" she cooed, grinning at me and grinding her body against me. "Am I going to have to tie you down? Hmm?" "No!" I said. She held me pinned to the bed and leaned over me. "Well, then, say 'Uncle!'" The silvery laugh. "No, better yet, say 'Lisa, I'll behave and lie still while you shove that huge dildo in my snatch!'" "What??! No!" "Well, it was worth a try," she laughed. "But tell me this: If you don't want me to use that dildo on you, why did your nipples get hard when I showed it to you?" "What? They didn't! I don't...they're not..." "Gotcha!" she said triumphantly. "Your body gives you away, Kiki. Now promise that you'll be a good girl, and I'll let you go. If you don't, I'm going to tie you to the bed. Either way is fine with me. What's it going to be? I stopped struggling, defeated. She'd won this game, and we both knew it. "I promise," I said in a tiny voice. "Good," she smiled. "Relax and spread your legs."She released me, and with a deep breath, I slowly spread my legs. She picked up the dildo, still grinning. She squirted the lube along its length, pumping the thick, milky goo all over the dildo, then began running her hand back and forth along it, stroking it as though it were a real cock, spreading the lubricant around. "Mmmm," she moaned, "oh yeah, just like that, oh, baby!" Her hands slid faster along the huge dildo. "Oh, yeah, oh! Oh, oh!" Then she stopped and grinned at me. "Okay, I think the dildo is ready; now let's get you ready!" She slid her gooey fingers into me, without warning. "Uh!" I gasped, as her fingers spread me open. Then she brought the massive head of the dildo down and pressed it against the opening to my pussy. I felt myself stretching wide, struggling to accommodate the invasion. My hands went to my breasts, and I found myself squeezing and fondling them as the dildo sought entry into me. I moaned and spread my legs wider, inviting penetration. All at once, the head of the dildo slid inside me. I screamed and arched my back, feeling my pussy spread incredibly wide, then clamp down hard on the intrusive thing. I pinched my nipples hard, twisting them savagely, and thrust myself forward, driving the huge dildo deeper, impaling myself. "Mmmm, look at you!" Lisa said. "There's nothing like the feel of a nice, thick dildo pushing into you by a determined hand, is there?" She continued sliding it into me, very slowly; I heard myself moan and whimper as I was spread open deep inside. Finally it was buried as deeply as it could go, and I lay there, panting, feeling filled and stretched and violated. Then, slowly, she began to slide it out. I felt myself clamp down hard on the dildo, felt the thick ridges and veins as they moved inside me, until she had drawn the enormous, bulbous head halfway out of me. The dildo barely penetrated me, holding me spread open at its widest point. I cried out and moaned and thrashed on the bed, trying to drive it further in or pull it completely out, anything. "Lie still!" she commanded. I closed my eyes and forced myself to stillness. My hands returned to my breasts as though they had minds of their own, and I pinched my nipples again, squeezing so tightly I could feel my knuckles turning white. She held me there for a long time, the dildo spreading me apart, my fingers clamping like vices on my nipples, then with no warning slid it deeply into me with one smooth, swift thrust. I screamed and arched my back, and she slid it back out again, very slowly. She took me with it that way, shoving it fast and hard into me, then sliding it slowly back out, then shoving it deep within me again, over and over. I screamed on every thrust, arching my back and tilting my hips forward to receive it. The dildo made wet, sloppy sucking sounds as it drove in and out of my dripping pussy, and I felt the beginnings of an enormous orgasm building deep inside me. Then the dildo slipped entirely out of me with a wet plop. I cried out in frustration, my hands twisting in the sheets, thrusting my hips uselessly against empty air, feeling suddenly and achingly empty. She laughed, running her fingers lightly over my mound. "Poor Kiki...do you need more?" she teased. She slipped one finger into me, wriggling it inside me. I nodded and whimpered and thrashed and moaned, barely able to speak. "Please! Please!" She laughed again and slid two more fingers into me, then held them there, not moving, teasing me. I felt my orgasm slipping away. "Please!" I begged, frantic. "Please!" She slid her fingers out of me, then brought them together and slid them back inside of me, four of them this time. I sighed and moaned as I felt them slide into me. She ran her thumb over my clit as her fingers wiggled against the walls of my pussy, and I felt a flood of wetness pour out of me as my orgasm began to build again. "Oh, God, please don't stop!" I whimpered. "Mmm, I think you're ready," she said. Before I could ask what I was ready for, she slipped her thumb from my clit and slid it into me as well. I felt her hand move, then felt myself stretching open again, even wider than I had for the dildo. "What are you...OH!"