0 comments/ 33023 views/ 3 favorites A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 01 By: Hubee Making the arrangements had been...nerve racking. Both of us had so many reservations yet, at the same time, so many reasons to go ahead. Two years of emails and phone conversations and some chaste webcamming had lead to this -- we were finally going to meet. A stolen weekend where, unknown to her, I was going to make as many of her fantasies come true as possible. As befitted our preferred roles I set the agenda. Separate flights to London had been booked, mine arriving before yours and a luxurious hotel room reserved. I gave you a detailed list of what to bring, what to wear on the plane. But when it came down to it I sat on my bed in that hotel room shaking with excitement and nerves, waiting for you to arrive. I hoped that this tension would not show -- how unbecoming of a Dom to show such lack of control -- the very control I was trying to impose from the start by having you come to me. Almost exactly on time I hear the hesitant knock on my door. I am not sure I could have coped if you had been late. With a huge effort of will I stand slowly and take a deep breath to slow my hammering heart. As I take the handle and open the door, time seems to slow, all my senses seem to become sharper -- I want this first sight to stay in my memory, so I wouldn't ever forget how you look the first time we meet for real. The first thing that hits me is that smile. It dazzles even more than it ever did on webcam. But I can see the tension in the smile, the nervousness. Your smile slipped a little, your teeth biting your lower lip as I study you; speechless. At this moment I think about an issue we have never talked about when discussing this meeting. As much as we have talked about our fantasies, the kinky things we like to do, we have also talked about the need for warmth and humanity. Not to put too finer point on it that we both want some 'nilla' -- even (the Gods of BDSM block your ears) some cuddles. I find myself thinking about how to balance these two things as I take your wrist, almost without my own volition, and draw you into the room. As the door clicks shut I feel my cock start to harden as I think about the fun we are going to have walking that particular tight rope. I watch you as you stand in the middle room and can see you shaking with....what? Fear? Lust? I also see that you are about to speak so I raise a finger to me lips. 'Hush!' I tell you. 'Say nothing, do nothing, until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?' I wait until I see a tremulous nod and suppress at shiver of excitement -- and a smile -- when you give me your first, tiny, submission; the first of many I am looking forward to. I take your bag from your hand and drop it on the bed, then I stand and survey you, admiring the outfit you have chosen, admiring the luscious curves revealed by the tight fitting skirt and jacket. I circle behind you and see your trembling increase. I place my hands on your shoulders and grasp the jacket. Understanding what I want, in an excitingly intuitive way, you dip your shoulders so I can slip the jacket off before tossing it on the floor. I lean into you, inhaling your intoxicating scent -- a mixture of Chanel #19 and excitement. As you feel my breath on the back of your neck I see goose bumps ripple across your shoulders. I kiss the back of your neck then gently blow onto your wet skin. I hear you make an arousing, barely human sort of mewling noise. I lean back, my senses almost too full of you. I unbutton your skirt at the back and slide down the zip. The skirt slips over your hips and drops around your ankles. 'Step out of it.' I order, trying to keep the tell-tale rasp of lust out of my voice. When you have obeyed I kick the discarded piece of clothing away and take a step back, to get a better view of your lovely arse -- the focus of many of my thoughts over the past weeks and even months. All I want to do is grab those enticing globes, then reach between them to the centre of your womanhood. But I know that patience, that the delay, the tease; will make for heightened enjoyment for us both. I know that you must find it almost intolerable, in several senses, to have me standing behind you, watching you; not knowing what I am thinking, not knowing what I am going to do. After a good minute I bend quietly and place a finger tip on the seam of your stocking, just above your ankle. Slowly, using the seam as a guide, I move my finger up the back of your calf. I hear you start to make a low, almost imperceptible sigh; which grows slightly higher in pitch as I move upwards. Across the back of your knee and up your thigh, I slow as I reach the stocking top; near the claps of the suspender belt. I can feel the shaking in your leg as I pass over the last of the silk and touch the bare flesh of your upper thigh. Ever more slowly you feel the touch of my finger move towards the cleft of your buttocks. Then your sigh turns into a moan of frustration as I change direction and trace the contours of one buttock, moving towards your hip before tracking sideways and lingering over the hollow at the base of your spine. I kiss you there, then lick, leaving moisture across the tiny, downy hairs. A second for the cooling feeling to make you tingle before my breath warms the same spot, producing another -- different tingle. I straighten up, then force myself to take another teasing pause, before moving round in front of you. Your eyes are downcast and your face is flushed. You stand, shaking, as if awaiting some terrible verdict. I take your chin in my hand and raise your face until you meet my gaze. 'You are very lovely k. I am thrilled that you have offered yourself to me in this way, that I will have someone as delightful as you for my sub -- even if only for a weekend.' I see your happy response to my words and release your chin, stroking your cheek with the back of my hand. 'Now I want you to take of your blouse.' I say before turning to sit in one of the room's chairs. Causally I take up a glass from a nearby table and pour bourbon onto ice, before adding Coke as I wait for you to comply -- for all the world like someone about to watch a TV show. I see the sudden switch from tenderness to dominant control have the desired effect, putting you off balance and reinforcing in your mind the degree of control I have over you. (I doubt it would have worked so well if you knew how long I had spent nervously moving the chair -- then moving it again, and again -- until it was in just the right place - whilst excitedly imagining you standing before me.) I wait, wordlessly for you to obey, watching you with face still downcast, not meeting my gaze. It takes so long that I begin to wonder if you are about to snatch your skirt and flee from the room. Then, with shaky hands, you begin to fumble with the buttons and I feel a little tension leave my body. Or leave some parts of my body and perhaps transfer to others. I try to show no signs of impatience as you go about undressing for me, making no offer to help. Eventually the blouse falls from your shoulders and I see a little more of the feminine glory of k. The basque is a triumph of the lingerie maker's art. But the breasts it (barely) contains are a triumph of nature. The lace trimmed cups kiss the underside of your nipples, revealing how hard they are. Your rapid breathing makes those lush hemispheres heave in their flimsy restraint. I am lost for words and take a sip of my drink to give myself a chance to regain my composure As taken as I am with this view my eyes are drawn to the vee at the top of your thighs. I motion you forward to get a better view. Your freshly waxed pussy is revealed by the crotchless knickers I had delivered to you -- and ordered you to wear. 'That is the sexiest sight I have ever seen.' I tell you. 'Do you know why I wanted you to wear those knickers?' I wait till I see you shake your head. 'Because you once told me that wearing knickers like that, "wasn't you". But I don't want you to be you this weekend. I want your exposed cunt to remind you every second that you are something different now, if only for short time.' I pause to let the words sink in. 'How did wearing them make you feel? I ask. 'Tell me honestly.' It takes a second for you to find your voice, having been given permission to speak. 'They made me feel conscious of you.' you answer in a low voice, without looking at me. 'Made me aware that I was doing something special for you, which I loved.' Then you add, in a rush. 'But they also made me feel........cheap...........like a...a' You trail away, so I finish for you. 'Made you feel like a hussy?' I see you nod. 'But in a good way?' I quiz, with a smile You look at me, expressionless for a second and then that smile flashes across your face before you burst into a full-throated, natural laugh. I join in and feel a strand of restricting tension fall away from between us. As enjoyable as that release is I feel the need to pull you back to the matter at hand. With my smile put away (for later) I order. 'Make your nipples hard k, or make them harder. Pinch them, lick them, twist them. I want to see you suffer a little now.' ('Then a lot more later.' I think to myself) I see a little flash of fear in your eyes - and need. I watch your hands move to the glorious globes contained in your basque, then pull down the lace to fully reveal your nipples to me. I want to take them in my mouth, to suck them, to bite them, to taste you. But I restrain myself and watch. You take your nipples between thumb and forefinger and follow my orders. You gasp as you twist those hard buttons, and then pull them away from your body, stretching your tits out. Your eyes close and the tip of your tongue protrudes as you squeeze on your tender extremities, knowing want I want to see. Then you recall my instructions and cup once breast with both hands and raise it at the same time a lowering your head to suck on your own nipple. 'Bite it!' I hiss - and hear you moan as you comply. 'Stop'. I order and see you raise your head to glance at me. 'I want you to tell me k, tell me what I want to hear.' You drop your gaze from mine, your cheeks flushing pink. You know what I want to hear, emails have been exchanged detailing what I want you to say, to offer. You take a deep breath, almost a shudder, and begin; hesitantly at first. 'I.....I....am giving myself to you.....Sir' (I shiver inwardly as I hear this delicious appellation for the first time from you.) '.......for this weekend, to do with as you will. I will do as you order......obey you in everything you ask and do my best to please you.' You release another heaving sigh. 'What do you think I want to do to you k?' I ask, barely daring to breathe. 'You want to fuck me.....Sir'. Once again you dare a glance at my face, and see me nod. 'Where and how will I fuck you k?' Your eyes drop and you pause, caught in a strange contradiction, screwing up your courage to surrender. 'Where ever and however you want Sir' you answer, almost in a whisper. I raise my voice slightly as if to compensate for your quietness, in order to draw out the words I want to hear. 'Tell me k!' 'You can fuck my mouth Sir' you answer in a rush, louder now. 'Then cum on my face if you wish. Or in my mouth because I want to taste you, to swallow your c....c....cum. My cunt is wet for you and I want to feel your cock in it...in my wet cunt. I will spread my legs for you when ever you feel the need to use me. I will suck and fuck you..........or anyone you give me to Sir' You pause, before continuing. 'And of course you can fuck my arse Sir. You know how long I have fantasised about feeling your hard cock in my tight arse.' My heart is thumping with excitement and my throat feels constricted. 'And you want me to do all this to you k?' You nod 'Why?' Once again you raise your flushed face to mine. 'Because I want to be a slut Sir, .......your slut I can see the desire, the lust, rising in you - signalled to me by your eyes, bright with the fire of passion, fanned by the declaration of your total submission to me. 'What do you think I want to do to you k? I can see that you are taken off-guard by the repetition of my question. Not knowing what is expected you can only shake your head. 'You said you want to "please me". And I want to please you k. I want to make your fantasies come true.' You stand stock still, mouth slightly open, still staring straight at me. My heart is still beating hard enough that I think you should be able to hear it. This is so intense, so soon -- and we have only just started. A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 02 I need to change pace, change the mood. 'Turn around'. I order, as much to lower the heat caused by that exchange of glances as for any other reason. When your back is turned I retrieve my 'bag of goodies' and start laying them on the desk. Then I open your bag and start to go through a mental check-list, making sure everything I ordered you to bring is there. I take the first item from my collection and stand behind you. The head of my cock, straining against my trousers, brushes against the glorious globes of your bum. I can feel you shaking, transmitted to me through my hard member. You flinch as you feel me lift your hair away from your neck, then more shaking as you feel the leather of the collar encircle you. I do the buckle up carefully. Not too tight, but tight enough to remind you that you are owned, if only briefly, by me. With your hair still drawn back I deviate from my mental script and tenderly kiss you at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, just below the collar. I wonder to myself where that gentle impulse came from. It was not part of how I had envisaged treating you when I thought about our meeting beforehand. I release your hair step away from you, trying to get my senses and emotions back under control. I take a few deep breaths. Time to dictate again. 'Lie on the bed k. Spread your legs and show me how a slut plays with herself.' As you move to obey I throw some of your toys on the bed, the smallest butt plug and the purple Rabbit. 'Use these, put on a good show for me. Then I want to see you try and fist yourself.' I move the chair to the foot of the bed and sit down, picking up my drink -- ringside seating for the upcoming entertainment. 'One last thing k, just in case you need reminding, you may not have an orgasm without my permission.' I see the look of disappointment, then acceptance, on your face as you hurry to obey my orders. I watch in intently as you lay back, spreading your shapely stocking clad legs. I am looking forward to my first close up view of your lovely, plump pussy. (In my own mind the gentleman over-rules the more vulgar elements. As often as I might make you call it your 'cunt', it is always 'pussy' to me) I am thrilled to see the obvious signs of your excitement. Through the split of your crotchless knickers I can see your wetness glistening, your labia swollen and parted, your clitoris standing proud; hard. 'Is your cunt wet k?' I demand. All you can manage is a strangled 'Uh huh.' 'Rub your clit, and then finger yourself.' I grunt, trying to resist the temptation to rub my rock hard cock though my trousers. I watch fascinated as your fingers, delineated by blood red nails begin to probe your wetness. You moan as your rub your hard nub. Then one finger slips into your slit, then two. I start to hear the delicious 'squishy' noises I had previously only experienced over the phone - the sound of fingers plunging into a very wet cunt. 'Let me see you stick that butt plug in. I want your arse well prepared before I fuck it.' Blindly one hand gropes for the small plastic plug and then I watch you start to rub it over your pussy lips before plunging it into your moist depths -- presumably to lubricate it. 'Did I say you could do that k?' I almost shout. I see your eyes, and your mouth, open wide when you hear these words, so loaded with emotional weight for both of us. 'Lick it clean. I'll allow you some spit for lube, nothing else.' Quickly and lasciviously you clean the toy with your mouth, knowing that I am watching and enjoying the sight, making you taste yourself as I have also done on the phone in the past. Then you open your legs wider, reach down and press the pointed tip against your anus. You push it in with a twist and a sexy little grunt as it easily passes through the tight ring of muscle into your arse, then go back to fingering your pussy -- eyes tightly shut. 'You did very well with your "introductory speech" k' I tell you 'I know how hard it was for you to talk like that -- but you will get better with practice. But I am not going to test you on that right now.' I pause, 'I was going to get you to tell me your fantasies as you played with yourself.' Your fingers slow and your eyes open as I talk. 'No, don't stop until I tell you. Keep your eyes closed.' I order. 'I am going to talk to you.' I see you resume your pussy fingering and keep talking. 'I know your fantasies by now k and I want to make them come true this weekend. You have submitted yourself to me but you know that I will not make you do anything dangerous, or things that you will not enjoy. I intend to test your limits but not break them. But you will need to obey me. If you do I hope you will experience pleasure like never before.' I pause. 'Will you obey me k? Your answer is a low, almost feral moan of pleasure, a quickening of your fingers in your cunt. Then you tell me, 'I will obey you Sir.' I can tell that you are close to cumming. I watch silently, enormously aroused, waiting to see if you will almost immediately break the promise you just made. The motion of your hand and fingers slow and I hear you say in a strangled voice. 'I'm very close Sir. I might not be able to stop if I have to hear you go on. May I....may I......' I can hear the desperate pleading in your voice and I relish it. Already you are reliant on me for your pleasure, needing my permission to enjoy the release of orgasm. 'No k, you may not. Stop what you are doing.' I hear a moan of frustration and ignore it as your wet fingers are extracted from your pussy. 'Now come and kneel before me.' I say as I stand up. I see you hesitate for a second, your hand moving towards the butt plug. I watch intently. I see you glance at me and intuitively you realise what I am waiting to see. With no orders about the butt plug you leave it in place and with shaky legs you get off the bed. You kneel before me and your eyes widen as you see me unbuckling my belt and lowering my fly. I smile as I see the level of concentration you exhibit as you wait for to see my cock for the first time -- in the flesh. I take the belt from the loops of my trousers and drop it on the bed beside where you kneel. Suddenly impatient I pull down my jeans and my cock springs free, fully hard. Even in the low lighting of our hotel room I can see a gleaming pearl of pre-cum on the tip of my cock. Looking down I can see that you have noticed as well. More than noticed, you are staring almost fixated. I don't think my cock has ever been the focus of such attention. 'Stick your tongue out.' I order gruffly. I move forward a short distance and take my cock in hand and squeeze it. The droplet at the end of my cock grows and I make sure it drops on your extended tongue. You accept like an offering, like a wafer, absolving you and condemning you at the same time. 'Taste it'. I croak and watch as your tongue withdraws; you close your eyes and shudder as if tasting the most delectable morsel of food. As your eyes open again you look up at me briefly, boldly, before dropping your gaze again. Still holding my cock I trace the tip across your check, leaving a thin, sticky trail of my juice across your blushing skin. 'I'm going to teach you how I want you my cock sucked k, how I like it done. If you forget your lessons you will be punished.' I tell you as I take up the belt. 'Take the head of my cock in your mouth'. You quickly obey and I am pleased when you wait for the next instruction. It is a while coming as I savour the sensation and try to still the shake that is starting in my thigh muscles. It is almost all I can do not to cum straight away in the intoxicating warmth and wetness of your mouth. After a few seconds I regain enough control to move on to the next phase of your lesson. 'Bob your head up and down on my cock. As you do, swirl your tongue around my shaft.' I watch as your head dips forward and I feel your lips slide down my hard shaft, nearly making me moan with the deeper penetration. Your tongue does swirl delightfully, but there is nothing wrong with a bit of encouragement to bring greater focus. I lift the belt and flick it over your shoulder so that the end slaps against your arse, the effect more surprising than painful. It brings the desired result. With a tiny, muffled yelp your head bobs faster, your tongue lashes my cock and this time I do moan aloud. 'That is so fucking gooooood! You are a wonderful cock sucking slut.' I gasp as I resist the temptation to grab your head and fuck your mouth till I cum. I just soooo want to make this delicious experience last as long as possible. There isn't ever going to be another 'first' blow job. You might suck my cock many more time this weekend and it will be great, but it won't be new the way it is now. But, I remind myself, there will be plenty of other firsts -- for us both. 'Now I want you to tickle my balls. Use your finger tips and gently scratch my balls.' You hurry to comply and my eyes close as the added sensation of your red nails fluttering on my scrotum nearly takes me over the edge. Then my eyes blink open and the belt flicks out again, harder this time. 'Did I tell you to stop with the tongue?' I growl, then relax back into bliss as you combine the elements I want. 'That's it, worship my cock you whore, slobber on it, take it deeper.' You react enthusiastically and start taking more of my cock as I rock my hips forward a little. The first little choke comes a few moments later but another slap with the belt keeps your mind focused on the job in hand (or 'in mouth' perhaps?) Now I can't pretend to control myself any longer and my hand drops to your head. I look down at my cock sliding between your lips and twine my fingers in your hair. I start to thrust harder, holding your head so you can't pull away -- not that you show any signs of wanting to. I groan again as I go deeper into your mouth, a few more gags adding to my excitement. But I am even more excited when the choking stops and I realise that you are starting to deep throat me. I hardly have a porn star sized cock but I am amazed at how well you are coping. Slowing my thrusting I pull back; then ease slowly forward. I watch as your cheeks bulge and my whole length slides into your mouth. When my balls are resting on your chin I stop. I hear you breathing hard through your nose and feel you trembling slightly -- but you make no attempt to pull away. After a moment's blissful contemplation, the pause at the top of this arc of pleasure, my self control snaps. I pull back my cock and shove back into your mouth, holding your hair I begin to hammer your mouth. I use you for my pleasure, without regard for yours. You told me this was what you wanted, to do what I wanted, to please me. A tiny part of me wonders if this is more than you had bargained on. But that small, still sane, part of my mind is soon swamped by the rest -- by the urgent animalistic urge to fuck your mouth and cum. I can feel my orgasm building and I try to hold it back -- to drag out and extend my pleasure. I pull my cock from your ravaged mouth, trailing saliva from the tip to your lips. Slowly I stroke the shaft, squeezing at the same time to slow myself. I see you gasping for breath a little and hiss, 'Look at me!' Our eyes meet and I take in your lipstick, sluttishly smeared around your face as you pant. But most of all I see the arousal, the naked lust in your eyes. I wonder if mine glow with the same fire. 'I'm going to cum on you slut. Tell me how much you want it then open your mouth.' You start to croak, 'I...I....', throat not suited to talking having been fucked so thoroughly. Then you cough and swallow, regaining your voice, still hoarse. 'I want you to come on me Sir. Smother me with your spunk, cum on my face, in my mouth, in my hai..........' After that I need no more encouragement than another stroke before my cock ERUPTS. I almost sob as spunk spurts from prick like it was water from a hose. The first load squirts into your open mouth, splashing on your tongue. Subsequent dollops splatter your nose and cheeks, coating face as the force of my orgasm fades. The intensity of my climax seems to rob my legs of strength. I drag in a lung full of air, seemingly not having remembered to breathe since I started to cum. Shakily I sit down on the bed before I fall. When my composure returns slightly I can turn my attention to you. Immediately I am pleased to see that you have not moved, awaiting instructions with seemingly instinctive submissiveness. I marvel, with a little self pride, how much cum I have managed to deposit on you. 'You made me spunk a huge load by being a good cock-sucking whore. Now don't waste any, lick up what you missed.' Then I watch in fascination as your tongue snakes out to lap up my cum. Glancing in the mirror on the wardrobe door you use your finger to scrape up stray blobs and lick them off with evident relish. Despite having only just cum the sight makes my cock twitch and stir. When you have collected most of it I slide off the bed, still in a 'boneless' post-orgasm torpor. Resting on my backside beside where you kneel I pull your head towards me. I tilt your chin up until you look at me, then press my lips gently to yours. Our tongues slowly, lazily meet and swirl together. I taste my own cum on your kiss and slowly break away to look at you again. 'That was..........delicious k. If it truly makes you happy pleasing me, then I hope you are feeling very, very happy right now.' A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 03 When I have my breath back and I think my legs will support me, I stand up. I kick of my jeans from around my ankles and offer you my hand, helping you to your feet. 'I need to take a leak.' I tell you, a little crudely. 'Come with me to the bathroom.' I see a look of panic flash across your face and give you an evil grin. Not letting go of your hand I almost pull you into the huge, marble lined bathroom. Standing by the toilet I release your hand and move it down to my cock. I can see from your face that you don't understand what is expected. 'Hold it for me, whilst I "go". Be careful where you point it.' I see the relief in your eyes, knowing that you have been worried that I might have asked you to test one of our pre-agreed 'limits'; and wait till you have the aim about right and let go. I hear what can only be described as a giggle as you feel the flow through the shaft of my prick. When I am done I instruct you to fill the wash-basin with warm water and to clean my cock. Once the bowl is full my hand on your shoulder presses you into the correct position, on your knees. Dipping the flannel into the warm water you wash me with the proper attention to detail and a concentration that almost approaches reverence. By the time you are finished my cock is already half erect. 'Do you need to pee?' I ask. I see you nod, grateful that I asked. 'Then go ahead.' I tell you. Once you realise that I am not intending to leave I see your body tense up and you start to stammer. 'I c...ca......can't. Not with you....' My raised voice echoes in the bathroom, silencing you instantly. '"Can't" is not a word that you are permitted to use k." I continue. 'You have submitted to me. We agreed limits and you have said, over and over, that you trust me. Within those parameters you are not permitted to refuse me anything.' I sigh. 'I'm disappointed k, you will have to be punished -- after you have obeyed me.' I try to ensure that anger is still apparent in my words, but secretly I am pleased. I knew that at some point there would be resistance and I am pleased that it has come so early, over something relatively trivial. Making you obey me now will help prevent defiance later, and take you to new level of submission. 'Will you obey me k?' I gaze down at you. (Do I see tears in your eyes?) I offer you my hand and help you to your feet, releasing my grip as you sit on the toilet -- wordlessly complying with my will. I watch you intently as struggle to relax enough to let go, hands clasped between your knees, face downcast and blushing red to the roots of your hair. Finally I hear a little sigh and a tinkle in the bowl. I turn away then. My intention is not to humiliate you, only to reinforce in your mind the degree of compliance I expect from you. I grab a huge, luxuriously fluffy robe from the hanger and head for the bedroom, calling over my shoulder, 'Join me when you are ready'. Back in the room you find me sprawled on the bed, wrapped in the robe, looking over the room service menu. All traces of anger are gone. 'Are you hungry?' I enquire, to which you respond by smiling, nervously, and nodding. You can't help wondering about the punishment that was promised. Without thinking you make a motion as if to take the menu, but see straight away that it isn't going to be offered. 'Kneel at the foot of the bed k.' You take a few steps and assume what is becoming your usual position. I glance down at you as I pick up the phone. 'You told me once that you were good at foot massages. I want you to show me how good.' Then I dial room-service as you go to work. Very quickly you prove that you haven't lied about your talents. Focused on your work you hear me say into the phone, '30 minutes then? Thank you.' before I replace the handset. I look down the bed at you again and smile. 'That is very good k. But now I want you to suck my toes.' I see shock register on your face. 'Go down on them like they were 10 little cocks.' I like back and relax as you lower your head to comply. You feel me leg twitch and hear the first moan as you quickly get the hang of it. You quickly learn that running your tongue between my toes seems to get the biggest reaction. I lie for a few minutes, intensely enjoying your ministrations. It is not just the physical pleasure I relish, but the thrill of how quickly and easily you have fallen into your role, prepared to kneel and suck my toes, because I have told you to, because it gives me pleasure. However, thinking of this reminds me of how, just recently, you had resisted one of my orders. Punishment had been promised and now it must be meted out. To delay further, or to forgive and forget, might only create problems later -- when you are faced with sterner challenges than having a pee front of me. I look down at you at the foot of the bed, your mouth wrapped around my big toe. 'You are doing a lovely job k, but stop now.' As you lift your head I see you smile at these words of praise. 'But now it is time for your punishment.' I get a cruel thrill when I see your smile fade. I stand up and remove the cord of the robe I am wearing and motion for you to stand. I turn you round and gently draw your wrists behind your back. Using the soft, terry-towelling cord I wrap it loosely around your wrists -- bondage that is more symbolic than actual. Leaving you trembling I turn to the bed, to search through my 'goodie bag' (wondering if you will think of it as the 'baddie bag' by the time the weekend is over) and find what I am looking for. I take a few items from your bag at the same time and put them within easy reach on the bed. Standing behind you once again I hear you gasp as gently take hold of your collar. With a little metallic noise the leash from my bag clicks onto the ring on your collar. I give it a gentle tug, moving your head slightly back, imparting to you the significance of the leash -- a further degree of control. Then I grasp the elastic of your knickers and pull them down till they are just above your knees. I sit on the end of the bed and pull the lead again, a little harder this time, jerking you towards me slightly. 'Across my knees k.' I order. With your hands behind your back and hobbled by your panties it is difficult to kneel -but you manage, lowering yourself across my thighs. Without the cord to keep the robe together it has fallen open and you feel my hard cock pressing into your belly as you assume 'the position', helpless and exposed. I haul in a deep sigh as I look down at the delectable sight which has, quite literally, dropped into my lap. The lovely swell of your buttocks entrances me, as does the deep cleft between. The end of the butt-plug is revealed and I twist it a little, hear you gasp; then moan as I pull it out and push it in a few times. 'This one is a little small for a self confessed anal whore like you, don't you think k?' I pull the butt plug from your arse, making you gasp again, and throw it in the direction of the bathroom. Gently spreading your cheeks I take a long look at the delightful rosebud that is your anus, still slightly open after the withdrawal of its recent occupant. 'Time to stretch you a little more I think.' I announce as I pick up the big plug that you bought with you. I feel you tense up as the tip presses against your arse. Even with your face down, unable to see, it is obvious you have guessed what is coming. 'You should know from experience that this going to hurt less if you relax.' I say. Hearing and feeling you exhale I press slowly but firmly on the end of the butt plug and watch your arse swallow it. I can see the ring of muscles open around it and your breath now hissing out, through clenched teeth, as I remorselessly press it home. I hear you cry out as the widest diameter of the plug opens you wide, then grunt as your sphincter tightens on the tapered portion, leaving only the knob at the end visible. I press my hand between your tight-clasped thighs and find your cunt as wet I could have wished. My finger finds your hard clit and I gently stroke it. I hear your breathing return to normal as pleasure wipes away the memory of pain. In a surprisingly short time I can feel you starting to squirm on my lap, trying to maximise your enjoyment from my probing fingers. I take that as a signal to stop. I pull my hand from between your legs, with some difficulty, as you clamp your thigh muscles on me to try and keep it in place. I almost laugh and with the smile still in my voice I tell you. 'This is meant to be punishment k, not fun.' Hand free I start to trail my finger tips over your arse cheeks. 'You do agree that you deserve punishing don't you k? For disobeying me?' I wait until I hear your reply, muffled by your position, 'yes Sir'. 'k, I am going to give you 20. Afterwards you will thank me for your punishment and promise me it won't happen again. A bit of cliché, but sometimes these old rituals are enjoyable -- and instructive. Do you understand?' Another 'yes Sir' is the signal I have been waiting for. I raise my hand -- and then pause, tension heavy in the air and more apparent in the clenched muscles of your vulnerable derrière. Then I bring my left hand down on your left buttock, medium hard, producing a satisfying thwack. The gasp of pain from you and the wriggle in my lap are even more satisfying. I pull my hand back and see a lovely pink palm print already appearing. With my right hand I grab your wrists where they are loosely bound at the base of your back and press you down, to hold you still and to press my cock harder into you. I bring my hand down on your other buttock, producing more cries and more wriggling. I alternate the spanks between each globe of your arse, enjoying watching them turn a uniform pink, the hand prints a deeper red. After 5 hard spanks on each cheek I pause. I can hear you breathing hard and sniffling and let the moment stretch out. I reach out and pick up something that I bought to the party -- a leather paddle. It is no sadistic tawse, but I know it is going to hurt more than my hand. I trail the fingers of my right hand over the pink skin of your bum as I grasp the paddle tighter. I can almost literally feel the heat of your spanked flesh radiating from you. Then I move the leather of the paddle over your skin, feel you flinch and hear you gasp. Can you tell from that contact what it is? Can you guess what is coming? I raise the paddle high, and bring it down, not too hard. But it does make a lovely whistling sound in the air. I have time to wonder if you will hear it before you feel it? Then it connects with your bum with a lovely slap. I couple more on each bum cheek and you are bouncing around on my cock, gasping and crying, no matter how hard I try to hold you down. The last few strokes I aim at the juncture between your thigh and buttock. Your arse will probably be a little numb by now and I know it will hurts more on the thighs. This is punishment, not fun. A lesson has to be taught and it will not be learned if I 'spare the rod'. After 10 with the paddle (or thereabouts) I stop, dropping it onto the bed. I loosen the cord around your wrists and let you slide off my lap onto the floor -- once again on your knees. I give you a moment to compose yourself, and then ask. 'Is there something you want to tell me k?' I listen to you sniffle and hear you begin. 'I'm......I'm...sor....' I interrupt with a demand. 'Look at me k!' You turn your face up to me, your eyes red and full of tears. I feel a pang of pity and regret, but quell it before these emotions show in my face. You give another big sniff and compose yourself. 'I'm sorry I disobeyed you.......Master. It won't happen again.' I am struck dumb for a moment. I hadn't expected you to call me that, 'Master'. Not yet at least. You might have used it, almost jokingly, in email or chat in the past, but now it had seemingly been forced from lips - as a further sign of your compliance? This frozen moment in time is broken dramatically by a knock on the door. You gasp as you hear a voice announce, 'room service!' Momentarily startled, having forgotten all about dinner, I try to think quickly. I grab the cord of the robe from the floor and wrap it round my waist, making myself presentable. I think about how to make you presentable and then stop -- an evil thought has entered my head. How should a good sub present herself? I call out, 'Just coming, hang on a minute.' Then I bend down to where you kneel and whisper. 'Stretch your hands out in front of you, face down.' You gasp as what I want begins to sink in. 'And I hope I don't need to remind you not to move unless I tell you.' I walk towards the door and look back to see that you are in the position I want. Gratifyingly you are. Your lovely arse is raised, still very red and patterned with hand prints. I feel sure that if I turned off the lights I would still be able to see by the pink glow from your bum. The bulb of the butt-plug protrudes obscenely -- a truly erotic tableau. I turn, take a deep breath and open the door. Outside is a young man holding the handles of a trolley. Blonde and good looking his name badge identifies him as 'Josef'. 'Come in.' I tell him and back into the room, allowing him to push in the trolley and allowing me to watch his face. When he catches sight of you I can't help but laugh at his reaction. His eyes go wide and his mouth opens into a perfect '0' of astonishment. Then he tries to make his mouth work, trying to frame words, to ask questions. 'What, who......who is that.' He begs, accent eastern European, perhaps Polish. I bend down and take up the end of the lead that is attached to your collar. 'This?' I ask, 'this is my sub....my submissive. My..........pet.' I look down at the leather leash connecting me to you - so intensely, so intimately. 'Yes, this is "My-pet".' I tug on the leash until you straighten up. 'Turn around My-pet. Show Josef how lovely you are.' You turn on your knees to face him and the young man's eyes go wide again as he sees your lovely tits. I see doubts start to cross his face as he sees your tear streaked face. Reassuringly I tell him, 'She is here willingly Josef. This is for our mutual pleasure.' I turn my head to you. 'Tell him k.' I see you smile at the waiter. 'Don't worry, what he says is true. I am His....p...p...pet.' Your smile turns to me for a second -- and becomes radiant, then back to Josef before continuing. 'We.... I enjoy what we are doing. You needn't worry.' I can see that our room-service waiter is mollified and it makes me wonder how many times he has witnessed similar scenes whilst doing his job. 'Thank you for bringing our food Josef. I was going to give you a tip, but perhaps there is something else you would like? I ask, glancing meaningfully in your direction. The boy is quick on the up-take. 'Could I, could feel those titties?' He asks, his accent now even more pronounced than before, guttural with lust. My glance catches yours for a second and then I nod, 'Sure you can.' He almost leaps forward with excitement, reaching down to grab one of your breasts, mauling it in his impatience. You give a little whimper, which even I am not sure is from pleasure or pain. But is seems to bring him to his senses a little and he becomes a little gentler. He rolls your hard nipples between his fingers, using both hands. Now there is no mistaking, for either of us, that the noises you making are the result of pleasure. He looks back over his shoulder, face full of puppy-dog eagerness. 'Will she suck my cock? Can I fuck her?' With almost telepathic precision our eyes lock. But telepathy fails when I try to decide what you think about this request; your expression gives me no clue. Then I realise what your lack of visible emotion is saying, and my heart lurches. You are waiting for my decision; you will accept my choice -- whatever it may be. I deliberately pause, wanting to stay in this moment for as long as possible. 'No Josef. I wont allow either of those things.' I see his face crumple with disappointment. 'But, perhaps you would like to cum on her tits?' I smile when his face lights up again. 'Ya, that would be great.' He straightens up and begins to scrabble with his flies, over-keen once again. 'Help him My-pet'. I order. 'Get Josef to cum on your tits.' With barely a moment's hesitation you push aside his fumbling hands and quickly fish out his already hard cock. Looking up at him, holding his gaze, you start to gently but expertly stroke his cock -- pointing the throbbing end at your breasts. Almost immediately the young man starts to gasp, his eyes close and his head goes back. Your strokes increase in pace and I can see you add a little twist of your hand as you reach the top of his cock. That seems to do the trick. Josef arches his back, curses in Polish - and cums. The result is impressive -- a veritable shower of jism splatters your tits and then runs down the slope of your breast and drips from your nipples. I change the direction of my gaze and see that you are looking straight at me as you continue to stroke his cock, draining every last drop. The same enigmatic, blank expression is on your face. Slowly a smile spreads across my face. A smile that conveys my pleasure at your obedience - and also tells you how proud I am of My pet. Instantly you flash me a dazzling smile before stuffing Josef's still wet cock back in his pants and zipping him up. As if waking from a dream the waiter looks around the room, seemingly wondering how he got there. Looking embarrassed he starts stammering unintelligible excuses and backing towards the door. 'Relax Josef' I laugh. 'Thank you for bringing our food, thanks for the excellent service. I hope the tip was satisfactory.' I shepherd him towards the door, now anxious to be alone with you. As the door clicks closed behind him I turn to you. I see the cum glistening on your tits as you dreamily rub into your breasts. My tightly held restraint starts to loosen as I watch. A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 04 'On the bed on all fours k' I growl in command, gratified to see you scramble to obey, sensing my urgency. In a couple of paces I reach the bed and grab the flimsy material of your knickers, still around your knees, and rip them away. 'Spread your legs and reach back to play with your cunt.' As your knees part your labia open, showing how wet and excited you are. Your pussy looks like a luscious, over-ripe fruit and the intoxicating smell of your excitement fills my senses. I watch as your fingers easily slip into your slickness. Almost immediately I hear you start to pant and whimper. 'I want to....I have to cum. Can I please cum master? Can I? Pleasepleaseplease?' Almost the last shreds of my self control rip away. 'Wait for me k, not till I say.' I grab the end of the butt-plug and pull it from your arse. You barely notice as your fingers probe deeper, trying to scratch your insatiable itch. I grab the shaft of my cock and press into the rapidly shrinking hole left by the plug. I feel your muscles tighten on the head of my cock as I grab your hips. 'Where do you want my cock?! Tell me k.' I shout. I hear you scream, 'In my arse! In my arse! Fuck your cock into my arse HARD!' Finally giving in to my instincts, living my hottest, longest held fantasy, I pull your hips towards me hard and thrust my cock forward harder. I feel my prick slide home to the hilt in your tight arse in one delicious, overwhelming, tearing thrust. Balls deep in your bowels in I only have enough control left to bellow, 'Cum for me my pet.' Instantaneously I hear feel your muscles start to spasm, grasping my cock, milking it. I hear you incoherently babbling as your orgasm overwhelms you - then I let go. I let go of everything. I feel cock swell and pump, swell and pump. It feels like every bit of fluid in my body is being hosed into your lovely, tight, greedy arse. My vision almost greys out as the tidal wave of pleasure that is my orgasm sweeps over my body. My fingernails dig into your arse cheeks as I sway, almost falling. My cock, still hard, still pulsing in your arse, fills you with my sperm, an orgasm that seems to last an eternity. I draw a deep rattling breath and my vision clears a little. I still have to hold on to your arse to stay upright. I can feel the after shocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body. Super sensitive after cumming the sensation results in an exquisite 'come down'. Slowly my cock deflates and slips from your arse. Watching, part dazed, I see the most erotic sight of my life. My cum drips from your distended, ravaged arse hole and runs over your pussy. Sated, satiated, replete, overwhelmed I collapse on the bed. Unable to speak I pull you to me. Our lips meet in the gentlest of kisses, after the violence of our coupling. No words are necessary and I doubt I would be capable of forming them if they were. Cuddling closer together your head rests on my chest and I stroke your hair, gazing into your eyes, revelling in your contented smile. Interlude 1 Luckily I had ordered sandwiches so the food hadn't got cold whilst we had been getting carried away. We fell upon the meal like 2 people who hadn't eaten in days. A whole bottle of bubble bath emptied into the huge tub filled it with foam to our chins. With the rest of the champagne in an ice bucket on the floor we spent a slippery, laughter filled hour soaking and luxuriating; topping up the hot water to keep the room full of steam and to draw out the fun. Collapsing on the bed, still damp and red from the bath we kissed gently. All thoughts and plans I might have had for this time are gone from my head, spontaneity rules. I kissed your ear, teasing the lobe with my tongue, gently flicking with the tip, feeling you shiver. 'Lie back and try to relax.' I whispered to you. I wanted to learn about your body's geography, to discover your highways and byways, all the nooks and crannies. To descend into the valleys and scale the heights. What uncharted regions would I be the first person to visit? What vistas will open up before me? Will I be able to plant my flagpole in virgin territory and claim it as mine? I want to see at first hand the areas of greatest natural beauty and learn which areas will be most receptive to my exploration. My lips descended the column of your neck, and then traversed the ledge of your collar bone, mapping your body, my tongue the intrepid explorer of your lush terrain. I observed the twin mountains that dominate this region and the ascent began, slowly; then more slowly as the summit neared. The final protuberance of this peak is circled by tongue and then encircled by lips. I heard you sigh and feet you tremble. Knowing how much you enjoy this I take my time, sucking, nibbling -- occasionally biting; getting harder as I respond to your responses -- your gasps and wriggles. I quietly take a half-melted ice cube from the bucket beside our bed and run the slippery surface over your stiff nipples. You arch off the bed and I press you down with one hand. 'Close your eyes and be still woman' I whisper. Then I hold the ice cube over your breasts and the ice-cold drips begin to splash on your flushed skin at random, creating involuntary flinches and rashes of goosebumps. Then I pop the ice cube in my mouth and return my attention to your nipples, tantalising you with a delightful mixture of hot and cold. When the ice has melted my tongue moves down the slope of your breasts and further southward, away from the cold of the mountaintop, towards warmer climes at the equator. I smile to myself as I feel you move beneath my, trying to edge your body up the bed, eager for me to reach the destination we both desire. But I am not in as much of a hurry as you are. I raise my head and look up at your face, across the sensual contours of your body, until I catch your gaze 'I told you to keep still. Now do as you are told or you will be punished!' I order, hoping, knowing, that you will find it impossible to obey -- that the threatened punishment will be inevitable. I lower my face again. My tongue probes your belly button and straight away your body betrays you, flinching at the ticklish, exciting contact. I say nothing, but make a mental note of future action. I shift position, to the bottom of the bed, between your legs -- kneeling. Unbidden your knees part, your thighs spread and my goal comes into view. Your pussy looks like a delectable feast laid out before me, juicy, glistening in the low light of our room. I can see your lips, soft, puffy and wet contrasting with the obvious hardness of your clit. I gently blow on this sensitive bud as I move closer. Pausing, knowing you can feel how close I am to where you want me, I turn my head to the side and lick the inside of your thigh. Your moan is the mixture of pleasure and frustration I was hoping to hear. I want to tease you to a fever pitch of anticipation, to teach that torture need not be painful. In blunt terms I want to eat your pussy better than it has ever been eaten before and to give you an orgasm that will wipe all others from your memory, setting a new personal best in your sexual 'record book'. I carry on with the little licks on the insides of your thighs, then I draw them out, longer licks, each one moving slightly closer to the centre of your excitement. In addition to your low moans and writhing I can once again smell your excitement -- the delicious scent of wet pussy. This arouses me more and I can feel my cock hardening beneath me against the sheets. After just a few minutes your moans are betraying more evidence of frustration than pleasure -- or a lovely combination of both. I press down on your thighs until I feel your movements still. I know what is coming next and you, perhaps, have guessed. The sexual tension rises another notch and the air in the room almost crackles, like the atmosphere before I thunderstorm. I glance up between your parted thighs and see you watching, face flushed, eyes full of emotion and passion. Keeping my gaze locked on your I extend my tongue and rasp the tip across your aching, proud-standing clit. The affect on you could not have been more dramatic if my tongue had been electrified. I see your eyes snap shut, your back arches off the bed and I hear your guttural moan. I'm tempted to keep flicking your pleasure button to watch you flop on the bed like a hooked fish. Instead I go back to nuzzling your inner thighs, adding little bites and sucks to the licks, building the tension again. Glancing up I see your eyes are closed, dreamily focusing on the sensations. I lash my tongue across your clitoris again, without warning and savour your renewed thrashing. I want more reaction now. With the thumb and forefinger of one hand I part your engorged, slippery labia. With my other hand I gently stretch back your clitoral hood until the centre of my attention is fully exposed, vulnerable -- bright pink and almost visibly throbbing. Tilting my head forward I slowly, tenderly, lasciviously take between my lips the shiny pearl proffered to me. I gently suck and roll your clit between my lips, occasionally lapping my tongue over it as well. After only moments your moaning, sighing, writhing and gasping tell me how much you are enjoying my ministration. Shortly afterwards the increased frequency and urgency of all of the above let me know that your climax is approaching. I give your clitoris a slightly sadistic nip between my teeth, causing you to yelp -- the climb towards a climax interrupted; for the time being. Nuzzling your thighs again until you calm down I return to the core of your pleasure, sucking and nibbling till your climatic tension builds again. Another bite, harder this time, takes the edge of your joy. The process is repeated until I can sense that your ability to differentiate between pain and pleasure is blurred, no amount of aversion therapy is going to stop you from climaxing. Another change of pace is required. Moving my hands under your legs I move you're your knees up towards your body and apart. This reveals your arse to my gaze. A mixture of your liquid excitement - and my saliva - has run down over this delightful, pink orifice -- making the prospect all the more enticing. I run my tongue around the crinkled folds of your anus and hear you whimper. Without further preamble I press my tongue into the ring of tight muscles that surround your forbidden portal. Almost instantly you are wriggling again -- as if my tongue was 12 inches long and every inch of that was probing to your very centre. The kinkiness of tonguing your arsehole is turning us both on, as evidenced by the increased flow of wetness from your cunt and the increasingly urgent throbbing in my cock. I easily slide a finger, then two, into your pussy and pump my fingers in and out as I force my tongue deeper inside you. When I suddenly stop I hear you 'shream' -- a half scream, half shriek of frustration at being pulled back from the brink once more. I can feel you almost vibrating with the tension of a many-times postponed orgasm. I slide off the bed and stand, on slightly shaky legs. Moving round to the side of the bed I stroke your flushed cheek with the back of hand. I can see the want in your eyes, almost unrestrained, animal desire. 'Soon My-pet' I assure you. 'Soon -- and it will be worth the wait.' A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 05 Gently holding your face between both hands I guide you to move around on the bed until your head is hanging slightly over the edge. I move to straddle your face, facing down over the glorious landscape of your body. With my swollen balls dangling over your mouth I give the unnecessary order, 'Lick my balls'. The enthusiasm with which you respond takes me by surprise. Your wet tongue laps the underside of my scrotum and the delicious sensation causes my testicles to clench upwards as if they were on elastic bands. With a hissed intake of breath I force myself to relax. Once again a feel the warmth and wetness of your willing tongue lap at one of my most sensitive spots. 'Now the underside of my cock. Lick me from top to bottom'. I reach down to tweak your nipples, as you comply, your sluttish slurping making my cock twitch and harden to the point where comparisons with bars of iron would not be inappropriate. Pre-cum drips from the tip of my cock and splashes erotically onto your neck. Once again my thighs are trembling as you rouse me to new heights of passion. I shuffle forward a little, moving my feet and legs wider apart and leaning forward so I can once again tease your clit. 'Tongue my arse now pet.' I order, wondering as I speak if you will balk. I try to remember if this is something we agreed was acceptable. Or was it a 'hard limit'. I am immediately reassured when you enthusiastically transfer the focus of your tongue from tight balls to my arse. Within seconds the delightful, dirty sensations are making me tremble and moan quietly with delight as your tongue tickles my arse, pausing only to lavish attention on the highly sensitive patch between my arse-hole and my scrotum. I pinch your clit between thumb and finger and feel you lurch beneath me, your tongue desperately wriggling deeper into my arse. 'Ooooh that is good! You are such a nasty slut for me.' I moan. I move my hips back and press down on the top of my cock until it is lined up with your mouth. I see your lips part with such compliant submission that I shudder with pleasure as my I press my shaft deep into your throat. With you in this pose I can be totally in control. With your head over the edge of the bed you can't pull away from my prick and the position means your throat is opened for some serious deep-throating. When the first deep thrust causes gagging and choking I twist one of your nipples hard. 'Open wide and take it My-pet. I am going to fuck your throat and you are going to take it.' It only takes a few more nipple tweaks before you learn your lesson. Soon my cock is going deeper than ever before, causing my balls to nearly boil over with the intense pleasure. Part of me is concious of the fact that with my balls resting on your nose and your throat full of cock it must be difficult to breathe. But I am caught up in the intensity of the moment, enjoying the brutality if I am honest. But I am also aware that, as difficult as it must be for you, you never try to pull away, never use a safe-word or sign. Your dedication to my pleasure under the circumstances takes the experience to whole other level. When I get too close to coming I pull out your mouth and look down at you, gulping for breath. I stroke your tear-stained cheeks, feeling a little guilty and repentant. Then I say, in complete honesty, 'that was the best cock-sucking I ever had kathleen'. I see a ragged smile and feel a surge of relief. I move my hips and feel you start to tongue my balls again. I move further forward and feel your talented tongue tantalising my arse again. I shift again and my cock slides back into your welcoming mouth, not as deep as before, but just as exquisite. I've been told that a good horseman can ride a well trained horse without using the reins, just pressure from the knees and a wordless bond. We were a little like that at this moment. All I have to do is move slightly and, as if reading my mind, you start to lick and suck just where I want. This time I stroke your nipples gently and lean forward to play with your soaking wet cunt. By now I am having to focus, really focus to avoid coming - and I can tell that you were getting close once more. Almost reluctantly I step back, away from the intensely erotic sensations of your mouth, togue and throat. Looking down at you I ask, 'Do you want to cum pet?' I see a flashing smile and you nod. 'Yes, please.' you almost whisper. I lie on the bed in the opposite direction to you and wriggle my arm under your body, before pulling you towards me. Then I guide you to turn and lower yourself on top of me, into a position where you are on top, my hard cock in your face and your lush pussy above me - a traditional 69 position. I extend my tounge and lap from your clit up the length of your wet slit. I feel you lower your hips onto my face, pressing your hard button onto my chin. Instinctively I press my tongue into the hot, sweet centre of your desire and hear you moan - before I feel your warm lips once again enveloping my cock. I know I wont be able to hold on very long as your head enthusiastically bobs up and down on my cock. I want to wait till you've come but your brillance as a cock-sucker defeats me. Almost without warning my orgasm starts, from way down in my body. My toes curl as if cramping, my legs tense, I stop breathing and CUM. It feels as if my spine is disolving, my brain shutting down, my mouth gapes open in slack-jawed abandon; eyes screwed shut. It is a whole body experience. As if from a great distance I hear you gulping to swallow my sperm, then feel your thighs clamping on my head, making me feel as if I have gone deaf. I realise that my cum in your mouth has triggered your orgasm - and it seems to be on the same epic proportions as mine. I feel you spasming on top of me and then I feel a flood of wetness coating my face, dripping into my mouth - hot, sticky and sweet. My eyes open in surprise to see the last of your ejaculation running from your pussy and coating me delightfully. After what seems likes minutes your trembling subsides and you roll onto the bed. Feeling boneless and weightless I turn round until we are face to face. Just able to raise my myself on my elbow. Your eyes go wide when you see my face - then we both start laughing. I lower my face to kiss you gently. You respond, our tongues dancing, then entwining. I can detect my cum in your mouth and you can't help but taste yourself on me. Our juices mingle, combining in a heady cocktail of passion - a delicious sensation. Without breaking our kiss I grope for the covers and pull them over us. When our lips finally part I flop back down on the bed, suddenly exhausted. You rest your head on my chest and run your fingers through the hairs on my chest, looking up at me with a sated smile. We chat and kiss and cuddle like we have been lovers for years, like none of the kink had even been thought of, let alone been experienced. Weariness begins to engulf us both, yawning I see your eyelids flutter. Wishing for no accusations of the 'wham, bam, thank you mam' variety I watch till I see your eyes close - then hear your breathing slow. I am glad that I can reach the light switch from where I am. I would have left them on if it meant I had to risk disturbing you, asleep on my chest, in order to turn them off. Interlude 2 I don't remember falling asleep, but I do remember waking in the wee, small hours. For a second I mentally groped to recall where I was, then smiled when it all came back to me. But something felt a little, a little out of kilter. The time glowed in red digital display on the TV - 04:36. Then I realised what was surprising. I read somewhere that if you ask a couple which side of the bed they sleep on, it turns out that the guy always sleeps closest to the door. Subconciously he will put himself in a position to protect his woman from anyone coming in the door, in case they aren't welcome or expected. When I thought about it, I realised that this has always been the case with me. Sure enough, this time I was on the side of the bed nearest the door of our hotel room. So that wasn't the surprising bit. Lying still, I tried to think about what was puzzling me, half asleep, brain working at quarter speed - then it struck me. I've never, as much as I might like to, been able to sleep whilst 'spooning'; to fall asleep pressed against someone from behind. I love doing it, but can't drop off that way. I always have to turn away in order to get to sleep. Even in bed by myself I can only go to sleep if I am facing out. I sometimes think that if I ever needed to stay awake all night I could do it by lying facing in towards the centre of the bed. What is different now, I realise, is that I have woken up in a perfect 'spoon'. My arm is draped over you, cupping a breast. My front moulds perfectly to the contour of your back and my cock is nestled in the warm, delicious defile of your buttocks. My face creases in a smile as this realisation. My cock, less romantically, begins to harden - but only half-heartedly. I think about waking you, but figure you've earned your sleep. I guess I slipped back into sleep moments later - but I am certain I still had a huge grin on my face. I woke for a second time at a more reasonable hour, but still earlier than I had planned. I realised that I hadn't set any alarm or booked a wake up call and am thankful I hadn't overslept as a result. I have a lot planned for this day. I am still pressed against you and I feel you move in your sleep, then I hear a little sigh/moan as you settle into a deeper sleep pattern - an amazingly erotic sound. You move slowly, trying to find a more comfortable spot. This presses your lucious bum against my cock, which is no longer half-hearted in its hardness. This is full on, medal winning hardness territory - a perfect example of the 'morning glory' erection. Once again I am tempted and once again I steel myself against temptation - an apt metaphor on this occassion. Gently roll away from you and take myself - and my erection - into the bathroom; where I have to wait a few minutes for my cock to soften before I can empty my bladder. After a luxurious shower I shave and brush my teeth before wrapping a fluffy robe around myself and return to the room. I find you still fast asleep, lying on your back and I take a moment to gaze down at you, relaxed and lovely. Tearing myself away I move to the window and twitch aside the curtain, checking the weather, wondering if it will affect our activities today. What I see takes me by surprise - and then gives me a wonderful idea. In my partial reflection in the glass I see an evil grin flash across my face. I lie down on the bed again, on 'my' side, nearest the door and the bathroom. The shifting of the mattress as I do causes you to stir. I lever myself up on my elbow so I can look down on at you as you wake. I almost laugh as I see your eyes go wide, then dart around the room before what you see matches what you remember. Then a stunning smile slowly spreads across your face, like a glorious slow sun rise. Our smiles meet in a gentle, passionate, loving kiss. Then you start to giggle and push me away. 'I can taste toothpaste you...you cheat! I've got "morning breath" and you're trying to kiss me?' I shrug - showing how little I care - you taste just fine to me. But you kick back the covers and spring out of bed naked - on 'your' side - nearest the window. 'I'll just brush my teeth and be straight back' you say, 'I promise' you add. Then you think about what you have said, and you gasp suddenly. 'If that is OK with you, Sir?' I smile at your quick recovery. 'You can brush your teeth if you like k, but only after you open the curtains. Open them wide for us - let some light in - let's see what the view is like.' Without thinking about it, only moments awake, you take the curtains and fling them apart with a dramatic gesture. I wait for the anticipated reaction. I see you freeze in shock and your mouth opens so wide I am sure I can almost 'see' it from behind. But before you can react I order you, 'Stay still pet!' I can see you trembling, arms outstretched, clasping the edges of the curtains, fighting your natural reaction to drag then closed as quickly as you can. 'Stay still' I say again as I rise from the bed. I walk over behind you and look over your shoulder, resting my chin on it, checking the view. Your blushing is so hot and intense that I can feel it radiating from your cheek a few inches from mine. Your face is resolutely down because about the last thing you want to do is look at what I am looking at. Opposite our hotel a building is being renovated. Scaffolding is being erected and the tradesmen have started early. The double glazed window and heavy drapes in our room have blocked any sound that might have given us a hint of their presence. And, up until this point, the workmen have had no hint of our prescence. But just at that moment one of them turns and see us. Or, rather, he sees you. His mouth goes wide in a perfect 'O'. He gapes like a fish for a moment before he recovers his senses long enough to shout to his mates, drawing their attention to what is on display. I can feel you trembling, still holding the curtains, desperately wanting to close them. Gently but implacibly I pry them from your fingers and push them completely open. You are like the leading lady of a play, almost literally 'centre stage' as the curtain goes up in the West End. Or perhaps it is more like a huge, high definition TV screen? The glass of the window is in one sheet from below knee height, all the way to the ceiling. A cluster of guys are opposite us on the scaffolding by the time I move the plush arm-chair in behind you. 'Sit' I whisper in your ear. I might as well have said 'collapse', judging by the way you tumble into the chair - your breath coming in rapid pants. You haven't said a word since the curtain opened - stunned, unsure how to react. Time to give the undoubted star of this show some 'direction'. I push the dinner trolley beside your chair. On it are arrayed a selection of toys. 'I want them to see what a slut you are My-pet. Give them a show they wont forget.' A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 06 Opposite our hotel a building is being renovated. Scaffolding is being erected and the tradesmen have started early. The double-glazed window and heavy drapes in our room have blocked any sound that might have given us a hint of their presence. And, up until this point, the workmen have had no hint of our presence. But just at that moment one of them turns and see us. Or, rather, he sees you. His mouth goes wide in a perfect 'O'. He gapes like a fish for a moment before he recovers his senses long enough to shout to his mates, drawing their attention to what is on display. I can feel you trembling, still holding the curtains, and desperately wanting to close them. Gently but implacably I pry them from your fingers and push them completely open. You are like the leading lady of a play, almost literally 'centre stage' as the curtain goes up in the West End. Or perhaps it is more like a huge, high definition TV screen? The glass of the window is in one sheet from below knee height, all the way to the ceiling. A cluster of guys are opposite us on the scaffolding by the time I move the plush arm-chair in behind you. 'Sit' I whisper in your ear. I might as well have said 'collapse', judging by the way you tumble into the chair - your breath coming in rapid pants. You haven't said a word since the curtain opened - stunned, unsure how to react. Time to give the undoubted star of this show some 'direction'. I push the dinner trolley beside your chair. On it I pile a selection of toys. 'I want them to see what a slut you are My-pet. Give them a show they wont forget.' Standing beside you I can see how your exposure makes you tremble. I note the flush of excitement and shame blaze across your skin. I know that you still want only to shut the curtains, shut out the view the builders have of you. I hold my breath waiting for your reaction. Then I see you drop your arms – and I let out my breath. Across the road more builders have noticed you, framed by the large window of our hotel room. You can see that they are shouting and whistling – but can hear nothing through the double-glazed glass. But you can 'feel' their concentrated gaze as if were heat from the open door of an oven. Almost unconsciously reacting to their attention, your knees open, increasing the agitation of your audience. Reacting and responding to them you place your feet on the windowsill, spreading wider, exposing more. Your hand slides between your legs to the cleft between and I hear you moan as you begin to slide your fingers over your clit. I grab a small table and move it beside your chair, then pile it high with 'toys'. I move to a position where I can watch you, without obscuring the view of the workmen. At first things are slow, quiet and almost shy. The overture to this sensual symphony is played 'adagiett'. Your eyes are downcast as you stroke the folds of your pussy. I wonder if the viewers can see the wetness leaking on to your thighs as I can. Occasionally your other hand brushes across your breasts to tease one nipple or the other. You seem lost in your performance, but becoming more involved in it with passing moment, stroking slightly faster. The tempo is now 'commodo' but it wont be 'comfortable' for long – not on either side of the performance. Accelerando is becoming the underlying theme of this passage. 'Poco a poco' the pace quickens, stoking is no longer enough. The display continues 'con brio' as you begin to play the instrument that is your body before an enthralled audience like a maestro. I don't want to spoil the exquisite mood you are generating but I feel some 'conducting' is required. I want to make sure you perform to the best of your undoubted abilities. By now 2 fingers are buried deep and I can hear the sucking and slurping of wet cunt as you finger fuck yourself. 'Allegro ma non troppo' is only just appropriate, 'fast, but not too much'. It is certainly not too much for the guys across the road. They want more! The tempo needs to increase. I lean forward and slightly open the window. Now you can hear the cheering and the whistling of the men watching you, hear their arousal at your display. 'Show off to them the way you showed off to me My-pet. Show them what a slut you are.' I see your eyes close and your head loll back on the chair and add some final instructions. 'But watch them all the time k! Watch what your performance does to them.' I notice you stiffen, your fingers slowing, 'meno mosso'. Then you raise your head and open your eyes to stare straight at the men on the scaffolding. The mood, the tempo, the style all change in what seems like an instant. Now you can hear your audience, now that you have heard your conductor, it is like a switch being flicked to trigger a transformation in you. After a brief interlude you pull your fingers from your pussy and lick them lasciviously clean, staring straight across the narrow gap that separates you from those watchers. I can see the intensity build in you as you plunge three fingers into your slit only to smear the copious sticky juices on your diamond hard nipples – so you can lick it off for the delectation of the crowd, now growing larger as word has spread. It is like the best sort of performance, the performer feeding off the adulation of the audience and the resulting electricity being feed back and exciting them more. You press on – 'accelerando!' The builders are on their mobile phones, either trying to take pictures or calling friends to come and swell the crowd. You grab a fat dildo off the table and spread your lips with two fingers and plunge into your squelchy depths. With a growl you then grasp it with two hands and pump it deeper – all the while staring at the guys across the road with an intensity that is erotic and scary at the same time. I am stunned with the intensity and raw passion you are displaying – and incredibly aroused. Overcome with desire I grab your wrist and pull you to your feet. In my lustful haste I roughly pull you round to bend you over the back of the chair, so you face the window. The dildo slithers from your pussy, just in time to be replaced with my urgent, thrusting cock. I groan as I fill you in one, balls-deep thrust – revelling in the wet evidence of your excitement. I pause in that delicious moment of stillness, then pull back my hips to ram my cock home again 'largamente largo'. The solo has become a duet. Gently I gather your hair in my hand and pull your head gently up and back so I can whisper in your ear. 'Watch them my sweet, let them see how you enjoy my cock.' Then I let go of your hair and begin to thrust – 'tempo giusto'. Soon my hips are banging against your buttocks as I drive every thrust home as deep as I can. Your lovely DD breasts swing wildly with every stroke. I can hear the builders cheering, hooting - hollering even. I know they must be enjoying the show. I can see your face partially reflected in the glass, showing me that your orgasm is nearing. 'You can cum when I cum k, not before.' I manage to gasp as I grab your hips for purchase to fuck you deeper, to hear you grunt with each connection of my cock head with your cervix. The crescendo, the climax of this erotic concerto, cannot be long delayed. I forget those watching, forget any performance analogy, any regular tempo and focus solely on ramming you as hard as I can. If you obeyed instructions and waited for me to cum then your timing is superb. So close together are our climaxes that they can only be described as simultaneous. I feel the glorious weightlessness of total release; my cock still nestled in you from behind, slowly deflating. The mood is ruined when the phone rings. Leaving you draped over the chair I sit on the edge of the bed to answer it. 'Hello?' I enquire, irritation obvious in my voice A very Cockney voice answers me. 'Alright guv? Really sorry to bother you. Look out the window.' As I do I see one of the builders holding a mobile to his ear and waving. (He's worked out what room we are in somehow. Counting how many floors up and how many rooms across perhaps?) 'You need a 'and over there pal?' I see him speak through the window and here the words over the phone. I press the speaker button on the phone so you can hear the rest of the conversation. 'We've enjoyed the show so much' he continues 'that quite a few of the lads over here would be willing to put in a bit of overtime, if you know what I mean.' I see his face fall a little, the cocky bravado going out of him – perhaps as the reality of what he is suggesting sinks in. The guys around him on the scaffolding are however very much up for it. There are many palms being slapped to biceps and forearms raised with clenched fists. A couple of them even have their cocks out, waving them at our window, making it plain what is on offer. 'Let me think', I say, holding the phone away from ear. I stare at your lovely backside, still bent over the chair, with a lop-sided smile on my face – finger tapping my chin in a parody of contemplation for the benefit of our viewers and for you – if you can see me reflected in the glass. What to say?. A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 07 Our long weekend of lust is coming to an end. So many long dreamed of fantasies have been explored, satisfied and crossed from the list. Only a few remain and I want to make sure our last day leaves a lasting reminder -- something out of the ordinary I awoke before you, without need for an alarm. I left you lying in bed, exhausted from our activities the night before. As I come out of the bathroom in my suit I hear the expected knock on the door. The sound wakes you and I see your eyes go wide as you remember where you are -- and began to wonder what that knock might herald. I smile down at you and say, 'You can relax - for now.' I go to the door and take custody of the wheel-chair I had arranged with the hotel porter, tipping him without letting him into the room. I also give him both of our suitcases, packed whilst you slept When I wheel it back to where you can see it I laugh at your look of surprise and tell you, 'No, I am not going to tell you what this is about. Just do as you are told.' I lay some clothes on the bed. Well, I say 'clothes', when it fact all I give you are lacy hold-up stockings, high-heeled shoes and a white hospital gown. 'Get dressed.' I order. I see you blush and get ready to protest. 'There is no time to wash.' 'But I need to pee' you say, looking at me pleadingly. 'Not yet.' I instruct, harshly. Once again I watch you thinking about arguing. Then I smile when I see that you know it is pointless, that your acceptance of submission has reached a new level. I watch you dress, which doesn't take long. Then I gesture you towards the wheel-chair. Hesitantly you lower yourself into the chair as I stand behind it. You flinch at first when I lay my hand on your shoulder. I whisper in your ear. 'Relax, trust, submit.' From my pocket I take a crepe bandage and begin to wrap it around your head, covering your eyes, blocking out the light. Again I whisper in your ear 'Are you alright?' Your quick nod is enough reassurance for me. Wheeling you backwards I open the hotel room door and then it is a quick trip to the lift. Our journey down is shared with an old couple who give me sympathetic glances after they see you. I shrug and try to look brave. At the front door is the wheelchair adapted taxi I arranged a week before. I had picked our hotel for its proximity to the teaching hospital that is our destination. Professor Arnold meets us at the entrance at the arranged time and oversees the unloading of your wheel chair. We exchange only a firm handshake and broad smiles as he studies you. We have agreed beforehand to keep you in the dark -- literally and figuratively -- by not speaking. Of all the arrangements made for this weekend, this whole episode had been the most protracted and complicated David Arnold is an old friend of mine, one who knows about my predilections -- and who shares most of them. As soon as you and I had made plans for our weekend I had been in touch with him and we made our own plans. He wheels you through long corridors and I follow, the wheelchair wheels squeaked on the shiny linoleum floor, until we arrive at double doors. I interpret his nod towards the doors and open them so he can push you into the room beyond. All you can hear is a buzz of whispered conversation which makes you hunch up in the chair, until you feel my hands on your shoulders and my voice whispering in your ear. 'Stand up k.' When your shaky kegs have you upright I gently unwrap the bandages from your eyes and reveal the scene before you. Your eyes blink in the bright lights suspended above what is patently a lecture theatre. They highlight the gynaecological examination chair in the centre of the room. They also reveal a camera on a tripod along with recording equipment. When you see15 or 20 young men and woman in white coats, arrayed in a semi-circle around the chair it is only my hand strongly clasping your arm that stops you collapsing back into the wheelchair -- or turning and fleeing from the room. I start to untie your gown at the back and feel your muscles tense, as if you are about to shrug your shoulders in an attempt to keep it on. I wait a tense second and smile inwardly when I feel you relax -- resistance stillborn. When I remove the gown completely, leaving you revealed in only your stockings and shoes the audience begin to buzz with questions and comments. I can see you blushing, eyes downcast but I can tell that you are waiting for my instructions. Your trust and willingness to submit fills me with pride. 'Get into the chair k.' I instruct quietly. I watch proudly as you tottered the five paces to the chair. I move to your side and help Professor Arnold get your legs in the stirrup and the straps, across your thighs and your shoulders, ensuring you are comfortable - but unable to move. You keep your eyes closed as we do, glancing at me only once; until you see my slight smile of proprietorial approval and a quick wink. You close your eyes with a (slightly wobbly) smile of your own as we finish the job. Once this is done the Professor adjusts some controls on the chair which brings you into a more-or-less horizontal position and opens your legs, splaying you before the engrossed audience. Then the Professor turns to those watching and begins his lecture. 'We are very lucky today class. We have a unique opportunity, thanks to my friend' (he waves in my direction without naming me). As he speaks you surreptiously study him. He is shorter than my 6 foot 2 inches, with a dark, almost Mediterranean complexion. 'Handsome' rather than 'good looking' is your instant appraisal. His wildly curly hair is cut in a style that you feel is a little 'young' for what you believe to be his apparent age. And an incipient 'belly' gives notice of potential 'paunch' in a few years time. But the obvious enthusiasm and passion in his words as he speaks to his students is very attractive to you 'A unique opportunity to do some practical work on our course.' You hear him continue. 'You are all hoping to become doctors specialising in the area of abnormal sexual behaviour. Today we have a chance to do some "hands on work" in this area.' He snickers at his own joke but the silence after it indicates that his students don't get it. He lays a hand on your knee and announces. 'We are going to do some diagnosing today. We are going to find out if this woman is a "slut".' I hear several of the audience gasp. 'Please switch on the camera. I think a record of this might be useful. Now, move closer to observe.' David tells his students When they are clustered around he starts pointing out a few features of his subject - you. 'You will all notice marks, contusions, on the subject's neck, thighs and especially on her breasts. They would appear to be, in the vernacular, love bites.' He looks at you and asks. 'Is that the case?' At first you are mute, then you cast a desperate look in my direction. I do not come to your assistance in the way you had hoped. Instead I order, 'You will answer the Professor's questions immediately and honestly.' Without looking at the professor you answer in a trembling voice. 'You are right, they are love bites.' The Professor nods, pleased. 'Now we shall examine the genitalia' he announces, swinging an overhead light closer to illuminate you better. The professor and his students examine your pussy in silence for a few seconds. Then David asks, 'How would you describe what you are observing class?' An Asian student starts off with an easy one. 'The subject's...um........genital area is completely shaven?' he says, making it half statement, half question. 'Waxed' says a more confident, female, voice. I look up and see a Chinese girl giggling 'OK, yes, a hairless pussy' says the professor. 'We don't need to be coy with our terminology in this class Patel. What else?' 'Her labia majora and minora seem quite pronounced' suggests one student. 'Labia majora?' the teacher sneers. 'What did I tell you about being coy? Wouldn't it be easier to say that the subject has nice fat cunt lips?' This gets a few shocked laughs and gasps before David asks, 'What might cause them to be so pronounced. You' he points at someone at random 'Paterson'. The student selected 'ums' and 'ahs' a bit before suggesting. 'They might be pronoun.....fat...um...due to um. an injury? Or it might be natural, you know, like, genetic' 'OK' says the prof. 'It might also be due to sexual excitement. Had you considered that?' 'Surely not, not in this situation,' answers one of the female students. Professor Arnolds shakes his head. 'Have you forgotten that we are studying abnormal sexual psychology? If she were sexually aroused what other signs would we find?' Various answers are shouted out 'Pupil dilation' 'Skin flush' 'Her nipples would be distende.........hard' Then after a pause someone adds 'Her cunt would be wet' The professor looks up at this student and says, 'Very good Patel. I am glad someone is getting a little bit less scientific.' He looks at the other students. 'Shall we see if Mr Patel is right?' Dr Arnold snaps on a rubber glove and expertly parts your 'fat cunt lips' and you can hear indrawn breaths. 'The subject's cunt is a wet as a swamp.' The doctor diagnoses I see the pink blush of shame blossom on your skin. 'Are you sexually aroused?' he asks you directly. 'Are you horny?' At first you only nod then, realising this is insufficient you clear your throat and say, softly. 'Yes, I'm horny....Sir.' He nods, then asks, 'It makes you horny to have us looking at you?' You really blush now and find it hard to speak. You are mortified at the question -- and at the truthful answer you have to give. Finally you manage to gasp out. 'Yes Sir.' 'In that case we should have a proper look, eh? He chuckles. Then he takes some clamps and attaches them to your pussy lips before pulling them to the side and laying them on your thighs. This opens up your cunt for closer examination and you can see the students all craning their heads to get a better look. The professor snaps a question at them. 'Any observations?' One of them ventures, 'there appears to traces of...um...sperm in her...va....cunt.' 'It looks like more than "traces"' says another with a dirty chuckle. 'I agree' says the professor. 'She is so full of cum I'm surprised she isn't leaking.' He looks up at you from his place between your thighs. 'How many times were you fucked last night?' he asks. Shocked and shamed you admit in a shaky voice, 'I lost count. There were 15 men, I think. Many.....went....more than once. Maybe 10.....came in my......cunt.......and elsewhere.' 'Elsewhere?' the Professor asked you with an evil smile. Keeping your eyes closed you continue to confess to your slutty behaviour with the builders. 'Several....fucked my...my bottom. Quite a few used my mouth.' David laughed. 'So your arse should be about as full as your cunt? You can only nod. He suggests 'Shall we check that?' With gloved hands he parts your buttocks so his students can all see, giving them a commentary as he does. 'Ah hah, see how her arse-hole is red and it is still quite dilated, open, it must have been well stretched by cock.' Then he chuckles. 'And here is the final evidence we wanted to see -- spunk!' You can feel it running out of your arse as he spreads it - and you wish there was some way you can hide your face. It trickles and starts to pool on the chair under your back when he removes his hands. He takes another clamp and adjusts it till the curved ends are touching your clit. Back in lecture mode he announces. 'Remember that we want to determine if this woman is a slut. Some people might assume that being the cum sponge in a gangbang, having an arse, cunt and belly full of jizz would be enough proof. But we must be scientific and not rush to conclusions.' He closes the clamp on your clitoral hood and then stretches it back, exposing the hard pearl of your clitoris. 'Another test,' he explains, 'would be to check how easily she is excited; or turned on.' From the trolley of more prosaic medical implements he takes up what is obviously a vibrator and switches it on. You start to tremble and gasp even before he touches the buzzing tip to your clit. As he does it feels like an electric current is being applied to your hard nub. You tense up against the bonds that secure you to the chair. In a second you realise a number of things. You know that it will only be a moment before you orgasm violently. For a split second you feel shame that you will do this in front of an audience of strangers. But even thinking about the audience causes that orgasm to come a little quicker - and a lot harder. As the Professor pushes down a little harder with the vibe you are reminded how full your bladder is. Then you forget everything, your eyes roll back in your head and you start to cum, and cum -- and CUM. As waves of pleasure crash over you, your body arcs in the chair, muscles tight and you shriek the joy of your release. 'ohgodoffuckshitshitfuckfuckmejesus'. The flood of obscenities bursts from your lips as you lose yourself in the white light of your orgasm. Another flood begins as your straining bladder relaxes and piss gushes from between your wide-spread and straining thighs. The golden stream splashes some of the watching students, but they barely seem to notice, so entranced are they in watching you. Your orgasm keeps you writhing for nearly a minute before you feel yourself start to calm down. With your eyes tightly shut you don't see the Professor take up a larger vibrator. Without preamble, warning, or other preparation he places it against your arse. Then he savagely thrusts it into your shit hole whilst at the same time pressing the vibe on your clit down -- hard. Against all logic and expectation, almost against your will, this triggers another string of almost continuous orgasms. With the clamps holding you wide open it is easy to see that this time you squirt, not pee. The fluid is clear and gushes from your cunt, not your urethra. After an exquisite minute of the pleasure so intense it must almost feel like torture I see you suddenly relax, going limp. Dr Arnold carefully lays down his toys and checks the pulse at your neck, and pulls back an eyelid to see your pupil react to the bright lights overhead. He gives me a quick smile and a wink of reassurance before addressing his awed students. 'You will notice that are subject has just orgasmed so intensely that she has fainted.' Open mouthed they nod. He smiles and announces; 'I think we can safely conclude that today's subject is a slut, wouldn't you?' Again they nod. Dave Arnold's smile widens as he goes on, 'In which case I am sure she won't mind if we treat her a little bit unprofessionally now.' He looks at me and I nod my continued approval of our pre-agreed plan. A short while later you come around and find that you are still strapped into the examination table. The clamps have been removed and you are about to be skewered -- by the Professor's very hard, very fat cock. You look around and see that most of the male students have their cocks out and are stroking them as they watch. You can vaguely see that they are jostling to form a queue behind Dr Arnold. Some of the female students have shrugged of their white lab coats and one or two of the bolder ones are stroking any cock they can reach, bringing the guys to full erection. You almost panic as the enormity of what is in prospect comes close to overwhelming you. Then you see me watching you, slight smile on my lips. I give the tiniest nod and you relax, as best you can. My words from earlier come to mind, 'Relax, trust, submit' and you commit yourself to doing exactly that. You know that you are here because this will please me. In the final analysis this is all the reason you need. You understand that the true core of submission -- to please whomever you have surrendered yourself to. Then you glance down at the big prick about to fuck you and you smile to yourself. You realise that this is likely to be a win/win when it comes to 'pleasing'. The Professor moans as he eases his cock into you, surprisingly gently. 'Oh, you lovely wet cunted whore.' He sighs before beginning to thrust. 'That feels soooo good.' He croons, eyes closed in bliss. You feel your excitement rising in that familiar way and you begin to shed inhibitions. Realising he likes dirty talk you decide to try it for yourself. 'I love your cock in my..my...cunt', you moan. His eyes open for a second, then he smiles and begins to fuck you harder. 'Tell me more' he whispers in your ear. 'Is my cunt nice and tight doctor?' you ask him, sounding almost shy. 'It is' he groans. 'So it is still tight after ten men fucked me last night doctor?' Now your voice is teasing because you think you have discovered this perverted doctor's turn on. His response is a long groan of pleasure, confirming that you have worked him out. 'Do you like fucking my whorish cunt when it is still full of other men's sperm?' You giggle when you feel the doctor's cock twitch inside you. 'I was just a cum bucket for them Dr Arnold. They filled me with spunk -- in every hole.' The Professor is thrusting harder now, losing his rhythm as excitement robs him of co-ordination. 'Are you going to add to the cum in my juicy cunt?' I hear you whisper in his ear. 'Or maybe you'd prefer to pump your load into my sloppy, well fucked arse, like so many did befo..........' You don't need to finish the sentence. The perverted image you have projected into David Arnold's mind with your filthy words has done the trick. With his head thrown back and mouth wide open in a rictus of orgasm he howls as he hoses your insides with his ejaculation. As his almost spastic spasms pass he slumps down bonelessly on your breasts, crooning obscenities. Almost immediately one of his students taps him on the shoulder. You almost laugh when you see a flash of anger in the teacher's eyes. But then he shrugs and straightens up, making way between your legs for the next prospective doctor, keen to experience your abnormal sexuality at first hand. The constant stream of cocks keeps you moaning -- and cumming. But after Dr Arnold none of the guys cum in you. They fuck you until you can tell they are almost ready to cum, then they pull out and spurt their loads into a large scientific glass beaker. Between the fucking there is one touching, and exciting, interlude when two guys come forward at once. They are both tall, blonde and slightly androgynous. They look so much alike that you know they are brothers, probably twins. They don't get between your legs but position themselves on either side of you. Then, gently and almost lovingly, they start to kiss your nipples - one each. At first this feels a little weird, almost ticklish. Then you sense their expertise at this sorely neglected skill and relax with a happy sigh. Quickly the sensations become more intense and it feels like your nipples are wired straight to your clit. Every swirl of a their tongues, each little suck and bite and nuzzle builds the sexual heat until you groan continuously and your clit is positively twitching with pent up tension. Then, without any apparent sign or communication between the brothers (other than telepathy perhaps?) they change tack and begin to.....I can use no other word to describe it....they begin to 'suckle'. It is like two adult babies are latched onto your tits and they are feeding. The effect of the change is almost instantaneous on you. I see you freeze and hear your groaning become panting. Quickly this changes to little, bird-like cries of 'oh......oh....oh...oh.' Each cry follows the last at shorter and shorter intervals and become more and more high pitched until you orgasm intensely, almost desperately, without anything put your nipples being touched. A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 07 Having had their fun the twins move back to join in the queue to fuck you. At least one of female students wants her fun as well, which is an extra thrill for me. I know that you have had female lovers before, but I've only heard about it, never seen it. The Chinese girl strips naked, showing off a slim body - toned and muscled like a gymnast. She straddles your face and lowers her cunt onto your mouth. Soon we can all hear her wetness as your tongue lashes her virtually hairless slit. With one hand she savagely twists her own, surprisingly large, nipples. The other is wrapped in your hair, pulling your face tight against the juncture of her thighs as she grinds down on you as she comes. When she 'dismounts' she leaves your face coated with cunt juice, her copious excitement glistens on your skin. Not all the girls want their pussies eaten, but nor are they immune to the excitement of what was going on in the lecture theatre. One has taken Dr Arnolds vibrator and is ramming it into her pussy as she watches you. Another is on her knees sucking the cocks of the guys in the queue to fuck you. She is acting like a 'fluffer' at a porn movie shoot and making them even more ready for the 'star of the show'. These displays help to drive the boys to a new level of excitement. Shortly after these things happen the first cock goes in your arse, causing you to yelp in surprise at first, then pant with pleasure. The chair is wound back and adjusted so that your head leans back at the perfect angle for some intense, deep throat fucking. Once this happens you are used continuously from both ends, a cock in your mouth and another in your cunt, or arse, at all times. But still the students don't cum in you. Their discipline is impressive. After a while you miss the taste of spunk in your mouth, the feeling of it jetting into your pussy. You start trying your hardest to make them cum in you - but they resist. You can't help wondering, busy as you are being a slut, what they have planned Eventually you sense that this particular gang bang is running out of steam. The queue to fuck you is down to couple, then one (Patel coming back for seconds, greedy boy) -- and then none. Dr Arnold moves back to your side and smiles down at you. 'Thank you very much for helping my students and I today. I think they now have a real understanding of what being a slut means after that.' They laugh and applaud and you blush. Then he adds. 'Before we let you go we want to give you something to take away with you. Just relax for a second there.' With a practised flourish he inserts a speculum deep in your gaping pussy, before adjusting the examination table. It tilts so that your head is down and your legs are up, still wide apart. Then he produces the beaker full of all the collected sperm. Dr Arnold holds it aloft and announces. 'It seems these young men had been saving this up for you.' You notice that it now their turn for a few blushes. 'We have a couple of hundred millilitres here'. He pronounces and then he leans forward and slowly pours the gooey contents of the glass into your wide open cunt. You gasp as you feel it slowly fill you -- the sensation strange and so extremely horny at the same time. The good doctor releases the screw holding the speculum open and carefully slides it out. You feel the huge load of sperm in your pussy and clamp your muscles tight. I can see the look of worry on your face and know you are thinking if you are expected to keep it in, wondering how are going to manage that trick. Then the bit of planning of which I am most proud came to fruition. The examination table is lowered till you are almost horizontal, but still at an angle which did not allow the cum to trickle out. Then I pass my special fetish shop purchase to two of the female students. Dr Arnold undoes the strap across your thighs and the two girls open my parcel to reveal - rubber pants. Slipping them over your feet they slide them down your legs. With a brusque slap on your thigh one of them orders you to, 'lift up your butt'. When you oblige the pants are pulled on all the way up to your waist, tight and snug. When the other straps are undone - and I instruct you to stand up - you suddenly work out what I am up to. 'Rubber knickers?' Nothing can leak out!' you realise. As you stand you feel all the sperm swirl inside your pussy. The sensation is strange, unsettling but at the same time immensely erotic. You feel your clit throb within the tight rubber constraints and your nipples tighten and crinkle with excitement. You look around at the flushed and excited faces of the students, smiling at them with satisfaction because you have pleased so many so thoroughly. Then I step forward and the buzz of chatter falls silent. I hold a champagne flute in my hand and I give you a smile. 'We didn't use all the cum we collected just now. I kept a little back for a "toast"'. I hold up the glass and you can see it is about one third full of white fluid. 'A little cock-tail for you, my slut.' I pass you the glass. 'I provided a fair amount of the ingredients. After watching you this morning I felt like I might have filled a glass by myself.' This gets a small laugh. 'Dr Arnold even managed to make a second contribution after he watched you being spit-roasted.' A bigger laugh this time. Then I mime raising the glass and drinking and you start to do as I have indicated. Suddenly you are conscious once again of being the slut at the centre of attention. You shiver with the now familiar and increasingly exciting sensation this produces. You know that you are about to perform like a depraved whore in front of this audience. Then you recall all the slutty and taboo things you have already done whilst they watched. This makes the muscles in your cunt twitch and you feel all that cum slosh around inside you, making you whimper. As the glass reaches your lips your nostrils are full of the pungent odour of cum. Instinctively you start to salivate and your cunt to juice up, already you are programmed to equate the smell of cum with your own sexual satisfaction. You tilt the glass and the salty, still warm sperm touches your lips and tongue and you moan as you revel in the taste and the texture. As it slides down your throat you feel an intense orgasm radiate through your body from your sperm engorged cunt. The final trigger for your own orgasm is knowing that you are revealing your true nature to those who watch, and that you are accepting this knowledge about yourself. You are a three hole whore and a cum hungry slut -- and proud of it. Later, wrapped in a hospital gown, in the back of the taxi, I watch you squirming, obviously uncomfortable in your rubber panties. 'Can we stop? I need to pee again.' You plead. Then you see the look on my face and groan with realisation. The weekend is not over just yet.