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Bottom

By: midnightblacklight



His eyes scanned over my form, nodding slightly. "You're a bottom," he says with some finality. For what it was worth, I had an embarrassed look on my face, closing The Book on Bottoming and putting it in my lap. "Yeah, I guess you could say that," I muttered. 

Chuckling, he sat down opposite to me. "How deep are you in? Do you discuss the scene and all of that?"

"I...he's not comfortable with it yet. The last aggressive top I had was female so..." I let the sentence trail off with a shrug. The DANGER! button was going off in my head but I wasn't listening to it. After all, what was the worse that could happen? "I know my limits, my Yes/No/Maybes firm in my head."

The older of the two of us picked at a nail nonchalantly, saying, "That's kind of you to have them put out like that." His eyes met mine like a growing thunderstorm in the distance. "I'm a top. I haven't had someone to...practice my wears on in quite sometime."

"I pictured you as a top," I blurted out before realizing and he smiled. "Because of my size?" he ventured, making me shake my head. 

"No...you have a very...soul bearing stare."

"I've been told that."

"It's true."

Standing he stood in front of me, all six foot plus and I suddenly felt very small. "I'm gentle but I'm firm. Tell me what you like," he rumbled. I started to look down but his finger placed under my chin. "Tisk, tisk, look me in the eye. I want to see."

I swallowed hard, hearing my heart thud in my chest. "I like...not being in control. Smacking my hips, thighs and butt is OK, just not too hard. I like teeth but not down there and I'm not a fan of scat play, water sports, blood, or feet. I like restraints, blind folds, my top letting me know that they're pleased. I won't do anything until you tell me too; except for the things that I said I'm completely...at your mercy." I was slowly slipping into head space and I knew it, that one finger having the power to break me out of it or push me in deeper.

For what it was worth, he just smiled. "Safe words?"

"Standard Green, Pink, Red."

"That's standard?" the smile morphed into a laugh. "I'm getting old. Alright, fine." He backed up and crossed his arms, voice going deeper. "Anything else?"

I blinked, feeling slightly heady, like in a fog. "Not...that I can think of."

A nod and he started, eyes as serious as a killer's, my real name cracking like a whip. "You have given yourself over to me for the evening. From now until the scene ends you will address me as 'sir'. I am going to strip you and possess total control over your body because you ask it of me. Please remember your safe word and your slow word; I won't be angry if you use them and in fact, they are for your well being. You will now strip as a symbol of how open you are to me."

Hands shaking, I undo the men's shirt I'm wearing and fold it up on the couch. My jeans next, followed by underwear and bra and I crossed my arms across my stomach, feeling exposed, slightly unworthy.

Eyes flicked across my body, a single nod. "Do not hide from me; never be ashamed. You are as perfectly imperfect as I expected," he said in a low voice. 

"Thank you, sir," I whispered. 

"Stand there. Do not move." He disappeared and then re-appeared, snapping a leather collar with a lead around my neck. "Follow." 

"Yes, sir," I mumbled and let him guide me into his bedroom, a place I had only accidentally been; I wasn't too keen on violating his privacy even though we lived together. I kept my eyes trained on the floor, not knowing how he would expect me to act. We stopped in front of the bed and he unhooked the leash, leaving the collar. "Kneel," he ordered and I did, back straight in the center of the floor. 

"Hands behind your back," he continued. My fingers gripped my wrists and I felt him move, his warm, large hands on my shoulders and I gasped, hearing him snicker. "Do you like it when I touch you?" The question was almost innocent.

I nodded before realizing I was supposed answer verbally. "Yes, sir," I whispered. 

Another smile as he worked to my front, squatting. "I want you to like it, I'm not here to hurt you...unless you beg," he said, touching the side of my face. I leaned into his touch a little, shutting my eyes, sighing. "I do what you will, sir."

"That's what I want to hear." From out of his pocket, he took out a silk rope, tying it around my eyes. I was blind now. "Come here."

His hands guided me backwards onto the bed, pulling my arms up. Leather fastened around my wrists too and I felt his finger trail in between my breasts, dipping into my belly button. "You might have to pardon me, I might have to go straight to the grand finale," he growled in my ear and it was then even through his jeans, I could feel his hardness against my thigh, thick and throbbing. "It's been quite some time..." 

"Anything, sir," I gasped. I loved being restrained, the bite of fingers into me, sometimes teeth. I just wanted to be bended to his will...

I felt the cold push of lubricant against my opening and knew then it was a dildo, carefully designed but not a monster. "That's what I want to hear," my new owner said and knew he was wearing a smile hidden by a beard. "But I think I should play with you for a bit first." With a click it started vibrating and I let out a cry of surprise that trailed off into a moan, shutting my eyes even though they were hidden by the blind fold. 

His hands traveled across my body, pinching a nipple quickly, fondling one breast and then the other. "You're quite soft, softer than I imagined," he whispered in my ear, hot breath going down my neck, the flash of teeth on the skin there. I arched my back, crying out loudly. "Anything to please you, sir," I begged, feeling my orgasm grow in my stomach. 

"Mmm, really?" he cooed. I screamed as he turned up the dial on the vibrator, making it go faster. "I don't have to tell you that coming before I say so will make me...displeased." There was the undercurrent of threat there and I panted, trying to halt my breathing. "I-understand sir..." 

In a swift motion, the vibrator was gone and I let out a whimper that I know that sounded pitiful. "Now, now, don't give me that," I heard him say and felt him undo the joint where my wrists were connected, pulling me down to the floor in a kneeling position. I figured what it was for but I didn't care, I was ready to do almost anything.

His length was warm, smelling faintly of soap and he nuzzled it along my collar bone. "You want to be fucked by me?" he asked, gripping the bottom of my chin and I jumped. "Y-yes sir," I stammered.

"Then you're going to have to earn it, love," he said ominously and the head of his penis pushed past my lips, settling firmly in my mouth. His hand buried itself in my hair, guiding my head but letting me choose how fast or how deep. There wasn't anyway I could take him fully; he was simply too big for that but judging by the low sounds of satisfaction I heard, I wasn't doing a bad job. I did as well as I could, wishing on some level I could see his face but I knew I was here to serve him...

Too soon, I felt him tug on the back of my hair, pulling me away from his erection. "Not bad, not bad at all," he praised and I felt a ribbon of drool trail down the side of my mouth. "So good in fact I may as for a repeat performance." 

"Nothing would make me happier, sir," I said quietly and felt him pull me up to standing before doing something suprising:

He kissed me. Long, slow, gently, so careful in fact that I felt a part of me break; he was showing me what he usually was. "I can't treat you like the rest of my bottoms; you're almost too...too something," he whispered, grabbing the hook of my cuffs and pulling on it harshly. "But I can fuck you like one." 

In an instant I was on my stomach on the bed, hooked up again, and in some distant part of my mind I heard the wrapper of a condom. "On your knees," he ordered and I obediently put my ass in the air. An approving smack on my left butt cheek followed, echoing off the wall and I groaned, aroused to the point of my mind. "Please, sir, please, I need you," I begged, almost crying and I felt him mount the bed behind me. 

The tip of his head rubbed against my heat, a hand gripping my hip hard enough to cause bruises on my dark skin. "Oh, really?" he asked coyly. "How bad do you need me?" 

"I...I please sir!" I screamed, tossing my head back and he rammed into me, hard enough to steal the breath from my body. His hands traveled my body roughly, marking me, slapping my ass intermittently, always going at the same rough, fast pace. I was vocal, begging, pleading for mercy, permission, anything to make me reach the finish line. I could see behind my eyelids while he was calm, low moans and gasps signaling he was just as close as I was. 

With out warning, he grabbed the ends of my blindfold, pulling me back, thrusts becoming erratic. "Come with me," he snarled, almost animal like. "For the love of god come with me." It was all I needed and in a few strokes and a scream that would surely have his neighbors complaining, I came and came hard, breathing, "Thank you sir, thank you..." as I sank into oblivion.

I woke to being held, the blindfold and cuffs gone, the darkness of his eyes penetrating the darkness in his room. "Scene over," he whispered, touching the side of my face like I was made of porcelain. "Thank you." 

"For what?" I mumbled. I was so sleepy...

"For letting me see you in a different light. I...I couldn't however give you as much as you wanted, I'm sorry for that."

To this I smiled. "You gave me everything I wanted. You were amazing in every way. Now just hold me."

And he did, smiling and planting a kiss on my forehead.

Bottom Drawer



Cherie dropped her purse on the kitchen counter to flip through junk mail the postman had brought her. After deciding there were no redeeming advertisements in the bunch, she tossed them into the recycle bin and glanced at the answering machine. A red light flashed signifying she had been left a message. She let the machine play while she fixed herself a glass of iced tea. Her best friend Alexa's cherubic voice bubbled out, like a froth of foam from an uncorked champagne bottle 

"Cherie, no excuses allowed this time! You will be dressed to kill by 8:00 pm and standing ready at your door for my arrival. We are going out with Lynn and Kimberly tonight for drinks. Good times and drunken flirting with gorgeous men will take place, and you will not be playing the part of the wallflower. Not tonight, anyway! I'll call you when I get to your apartment building, so be prepared!" 

Cherie sighed after taking a long drink from her tea. Alexa was always goading her about how she didn't go out enough. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy having fun with her friends, sipping a cocktail or two. It was just...she always felt a bit faded in comparison to Alexa and her other friends. They were the type to dress in outfits that attracted men's' attention. Short skirts and form-fitting tops that hugged their bodies and invited a man to take long looks at them, from head to toe. Cherie wasn't a prude but she was reserved when it came to showing off her body. She had developed early as a teen, voluptuous hips and breasts that had even made her male teachers take a second look at her when she walked into class. As time went on, she dressed conservatively to avoid unwanted advances from undesirable men who thought just because she looked like someone who got around, assumed she actually "got around." 

Briefly, Cherie looked down at her silk blouse and pin-striped skirt she had donned this morning before work. She didn't think her outfit would fit the definition of being dressed to kill. A quick walk to her closet and a perusal of her wardrobe found Cherie with nothing that could even be construed as sexy. Cherie stripped down to her sensible bra and white cotton briefs and stood in front of her full length mirror. Her bra separated and flattened her breasts. The cotton briefs were not meant to tantalize but to cover most of her lower torso. Cherie had a small revelation while studying her rather unflattering undergarments. No wonder she felt like a school marm next to her friends! Cherie's underwear didn't exactly bring up visions of a sultry temptress, did they? Cherie's thoughts strayed to the bottom drawer of her dresser. The drawer where clothes went that had been bought as gifts by friends and family because they usually didn't fit Cherie's round bottom or full hips.

On Cherie's last birthday, Alexa had given her a bra and pantie set as a gag gift, knowing Cherie's usual taste for bland underwear. The bra and matching thong were zebra striped with hot pink lace accents. Alexa had tried to bribe Cherie to wear them out to her birthday party with a bottle of Cherie's favorite wine, but Cherie had chickened out. Now the set lay in the drawer of well-intended but ill-fitting clothing. Cherie had never even tried the set on. An idea sprung into Cherie's mind...she may not have a sexy outfit to wear but she did have the lingerie waiting for her in the bottom drawer. She slipped out of her underclothes and reached into the dresser drawer. The long forgotten brassiere appeared first followed by the bare wisp of fabric that constructed the thong. Stepping into the panties, she pulled the them up onto her hips, shocked by the feeling of the smooth thong fitting so intimately against her most sensitive of areas. The plump belly she usually tried to minimize curved sweetly along the lace rim of her panties. The bra came next and after fastening the last hook, Cherie was surprised to see her breasts barely contained by the cups. Though she felt secure that everything would stay where it needed to be, it appeared as if her breasts were ready to spill out over the pink lace. Cherie felt a spark inside of her, a wicked little jolt that went from the back of her neck to the base of her spine.

Turning around in the mirror, Cherie reveled in the reflection of the provocative woman staring back at her. She began to have mental images of being caressed by strong hands and having the risque lingerie peeled off her luscious curves. Cherie ran her hands over her breasts, the tips of her nipples straining through the thin fabric. Traveling downward, her hands glided across her soft stomach, finally stopping at the apex of her thighs. Feeling a bit warm, Cherie came back to reality and realized she had fifteen minutes to get ready before Alexa showed up. Smiling at herself in the mirror, Cherie felt she could wear anything on top of this little number and still feel seductive. Cherie giggled and knew she would give Alexa a run for her money in the flirting department tonight.



Bottom Feeders



Stacie had to stop from rolling her eyes. Here was yet another one of them, a young, redneck bitch from up in the hill country, dropping her foxy country butt down on a chair opposite Stacie, in Stacie's office. This one was on the scrawny side, but, still, a sexy number, a green-eyed, lanky strawberry blonde, chewing gum and looking dumb. And looking more than a little country whorish with that skimpy halter top of hers and those ultra-tight denim cut-off shorts. Stacie knew these sorts. She grew up with them up in the north Alabama hill country where she was originally from. But she was cut from different cloth, ambitious and college-bound, while they were destined to stay dumb and poor. But in high school they'd mock her, calling her 'stuck up Stacie' just because she wanted to go to college and become successful. It didn't help that she was damned good looking too. Now here she was behind her desk, a bank manager, and there they were, their hands out looking for loans for themselves and their dumb ass boyfriends or husbands, or seeking credit cards with big limits. But of course most of them were dirt poor, had no credit history, were terrible risks and had little or nothing to show in the way of collateral. 

"How can I help you?" Stacie asked.

"Uh– I need myself an account and – uh – a credit card?" the girl stammered.

"And how much were you going to deposit today in your account?"

"Uh – fifty dollahs?" the little tramp murmured, uncomfortable in these surroundings, a bank in the county seat, a branch of an international bank.

Stacie knew the drill. She could ask a few more questions, shake her head, tell the supplicant that, sorry, we won't be able to issue you a checking account with a credit card, maybe you'd like to open a savings account instead, as if these dumb ass bitches ever saved anything.

She was about to again say 'no' to this bold, but hopelessly naive request for a credit card account. But then she stopped herself. Lately Stacie had been having other thoughts. These redneck country girls who came in here with their requests for credit made her laugh, but some of them also made her hot. There was something about them being such hicks and so damned foxy too. She did have the power to give them what they wanted, a loan, credit, a credit card. But only if, in return, they gave her something she wanted.

"Maybe we can do something for you," Stacie said, standing, "come with me."

LuAnne followed Stacie down a long corridor, wondering what was up.

Stacie had been thinking about this a while. Would she ever have the guts to do it? And today, finally, she felt she did.

Stacie knew the bank layout as well as anyone, and everyone's habits. She led LuAnne to a bathroom at the end of the corridor that she knew was rarely used. She opened the door and led LuAnne into the small cubicle, a toilet and a sink and not much else, locking the door behind her.

"You want a credit card, LuAnne?" Stacie asked.

"Uh huh, I sho' could use me one," LuAnne said, looking a little numb, unsure of what was happening here.

"Well, if you want one, you're going to have to do something. But first spit out the fucking gum!"

LuAnne spit it out into the toilet, then went silent, dumbfounded as Stacie reached under her skirt to pull down her pink panties. Next she lifted her skirt and turned, exposing her beautiful bare ass.

"If you want an account with this bank LuAnne, and a credit card with a nice, fat limit, you do exactly what I say," Stacie said, showing off her ass to LuAnne, the sleek country blonde's eyes going wide, her jaw hanging slack in amazement at what was going on here.

"If you want an account here, LuAnne, you get down on your knees right now, get down on those scrawny knees of yours and lick my college educated ass, lick it like you fuckin' mean it!"

And with that, Stacie reached back to spread her cheeks, to show off the anal crevice, the puckered hole.

"You wan' me to lick yo' ass!?" an astounded LuAnne gasped.

"That exactly what I want you to do, I want you on your knees behind me, and I want that tongue of yours in my asshole.... bitch!"

LuAnne just stood there wide-eyed and numb for some long, long moments, then smiled and dropped to her knees. The next thing Stacie felt was two strong hands spreading her cheeks apart and LuAnne pressing her face between them. And a moment after that, LuAnne's tongue digging into her asshole, lapping away like a pro. The bitch hardly hesitated. Did she want the account and the card that went with it that bad? Or was LuAnne another one of these young rednecks, those white trash sluts who hardly batted any eye when asked to perform a sex act for financial remuneration. Was licking Stacie's ass just turning another trick?

It hardly mattered to Stacie, who loved having the sexy country bitch's wet tongue in her crack, lapping away at her ass. She had to admit that LuAnne's tongue sure did know how to do the trick. She asked LuAnne to drop to her knees and lick her ass partly to humiliate the bitch, to make her realize that the only way she'd ever get herself some credit was to lick some ass – literally! But Stacie also couldn't deny to herself that she sure was enjoying that warm and wet and slippery tongue digging into her hot bottom. For Stacie had a special fondness for ass play with other girls. Ass came a very close second to pussy for Stacie. Hell, maybe they even ran neck and neck!

"Oh yeah, lick it!" Stacie groaned, reaching back with an arm to press LuAnne's face firmly into her bottom. That tongue in her ass was making her so hot she couldn't help but drop a hand between her legs and whip up a froth down in her steaming, aroused pussy.

"My tongue feelin' good in yo' shi'hole?" LuAnne asked with a gleeful country cackle, pulling away a moment. She knew her nimble tongue was the gateway to securing credit.

"Feels real good," Stacie panted, almost breathlessly, "get back in there and keep lickin'!"

"Yeah, I'll lick yo' funky stuck-up ass. And I'm tellin' you, yo' pretty funky back here, bitch, you know that?"

Stacie had worked out at the gym before heading to work, and didn't get a chance to shower after her workout, walking out of the gym pretty sweaty and surely fragrant between her ass cheeks. But that only made her smile, knowing she not only was making LuAnne lick her ass, but lick her funky, sweaty ass.

And so LuAnne licked Stacie's pungent, sticky asshole as Stacie fingered herself, Stacie on the edge but holding back, wanting to enjoy the bitch's tongue, wanting to enjoy having this needy client down on her knees, licking her bottom.

"Yessssssss!" Stacie finally hissed as she felt the sublime sensations race through her, the orgasm intense, the tongue in her ass adding immeasurably to the practiced fingers working her cunt. Stacie was a glutton and she knew it, a glutton for pleasure, a cum junkie. And she just loved having that beautiful ass of hers licked and eaten. Nothing made her cum more strongly than when she had a tongue in her asshole at the moment of orgasm. 

Afterwards, LuAnne stood up as Stacie hiked up her panties and lowered her skirt, then turned to LuAnne.

"Good, now let's go finish up the paperwork and get you your credit card."

Suddenly LuAnne pressed her lips to Stacie's and kissed her.

"Thank you!"

Then she kissed her again, this time sticking her tongue in Stacie's mouth.

"He'ah, go on an' taste yo' funky ass!"

Stacie was momentarily startled, but then strangely aroused, tasting her own ass on the young redneck's slippery tongue.



All Stacie could think about for days was how she got that foxy young redneck bitch to lick her ass in the bank's toilet as a condition for getting a credit card. It made her feel positively wicked, deliciously wicked. There was something about forcing a girl like that, the sort of girl who enjoyed mocking her when she was younger, to lick her ass, that did the trick for Stacie. And what better way to force that. than dangling the prize of credit to a girl who otherwise would never be offered it in a million years.

Over the next few months Stacie managed to repeat this scenario five more times. Five more sleek, redneck bitches who turned her on, desperate for credit, followed her to the bathroom where Stacie slid off her panties and they dropped to their knees to lick her asshole, then marched back to her office to sign papers and get what they came here for. Only one girl she asked refused, and she was pissed. Stacie wasn't surprised. What surprised her was how easily she got the other bitches to worship her bottom, to lick her ass. Hell, maybe it wasn't just the credit. Maybe these bitches actually had a hankering for Stacie's perfect, round ass. After all, she did have an ass that could win a prize at the Alabama state fair!



Then one day a very different sort of woman stepped into Stacie's cubicle. She was absolutely gorgeous, tall and athletic, wearing tight leather pants and a breast-clinging top. And she was black! Her hair was in dreadlocks, her smooth skin a deep chocolate hue, and she very much resembled a certain famous black model who many times graced the cover of the fashion mags Stacie liked to read.

"I come here for a loan," she said in an arrogant tone, looking Stacie in the eye, her big, brown eyes wide and bold. Then she leaned close.

"I come he'ah for a loan and for somethin' else – bitch!"

A cold shiver went up and down Stacie's spine. She had a sense something was up.

"My name's Latisha, and I know somethin' about you, somethin' I don't think you'd wan' yo' boss to know. I know how you be gettin' them bitches to go back with you and lick yo' funky ass so the po' little things can get themselves a credit card. The word be out on you, girl. The tall white bitch in the bank who loves to get her shithole eaten out. I be gettin' high wi' some of them po' bitches and they be tellin' me what you been up to wit' them. See, I may be po' like they is, but I ain't dum, un'erstand?"

Stacie just sat there and listened, utterly stunned. Latisha leaned over the desk, her face just inches from Stacie's, her eyes glaring.

"Now you jus' listen to me. We goin' back to that bathroom you like so much, and we be doin' us some asslickin' back there. Except this time it's gonna be my black ass thas' gonna be licked and you gonna be doin' the lickin', un' erstand, bitch?"

All Stacie could do was stare in numb amazement.

"Because if you don' do what I fuckin' tell you to do I be goin' to yo' boss and I be tellin' yo' boss you be givin' credit' to a bunch o' dumb, po' country bitches who don' deserve no credit, and gettin' it jus' because they be' lickin yo' funky ass. Un' erstan'?"

Stacie understood all too well.

"And then you be losin' yo' nice bank manager's job, right, bitch?"

Again, Stacie understood.

"So les' go,' Latisha said, standing up. Stacie stood up too, on wobbly legs, and led Latisha into the bathroom, letting Latisha in behind her, locking the door.

Inside, Latisha just smiled a smug, triumphant smile. She unzipped her leather pants, clinging tightly to her perfect body, then pulled them down and off. Under those pants she was wearing a pair of bold, scarlet-colored bikini panties, the contrast between those red panties and Latisha's chocolate-colored skin was so striking to Stacie's suddenly aroused eyes. The helplessness of being a sudden victim of Latisha's blackmail now mixed with frank arousal as Latisha pulled down her panties and waved them in front of Stacie's nose.

"Here's somethin' for you to smell, bitch, somethin' nice and sexy and funky."

Stacie took a deep breath, savoring the alluring aroma of the worn panties.

"Now check this out," Latisha said, slowly turning, showing off her ass to Stacie. That shapely brown, silkily smooth ass, the skin gleaming, was as perfect an ass as Stacie had ever seen. 

"Now get down on yo knees, bitch, and lick.... my.... black.... ass! Lick my black shithole!" Latisha demanded, reaching back to hold her perfect brown globes wide open and revealing the puckered, rubbery brown anus, Stacie dropping to her knees, her eyes zeroing in on the dark sphincter like it was some long-lost jewel. And then, suddenly feeling just starved, she pressed her face into the warm cleft, her tongue hitting bullseye as she hungrily began to lick the dark anal opening.

"Thas' right, thas' good," Latisha purred smugly, "lick it, bitch"

And Stacie licked ... and licked... and then licked some more, devouring the black beauty's asshole, craving it.

"Damn, that tongue o' yours in my crack makes me suddenly feel like takin' a shit, a nice big' shit," Latisha said, suddenly pulling away from Stacie and her tongue, haughtily pushing her face away. "You stay down on yo' knees and watch me shit, bitch."

Almost regally, Latisha dropped her perfect brown ass down on the toilet seat, as though it were some African throne. She looked down at Stacie, a superior smile on her face, pleased to have the white bank manager down on her knees, on the cold tile floor, as she sat on the toilet.

And then Latisha spread her thighs wide and started to piss, pissing a powerful stream as Stacie looked straight on, spellbound by the sight of that brown cunt of Latisha's gushing urine like a golden fountain, the hot piss splashing into the bowl.

"Tha's right, bitch, look a' me piss," Latisha said, reaching between her thighs to let her piss run over her fingers for a moment, Stacie watching like a worshiper. "Now taste it!"

Latisha reached out her hand and made Stacie lick her wet fingers, Stacie closing her eyes now to unabashedly savor the taste of the black woman's urine.

"And now I think I'll shit."

And that's exactly what Latisha now started to do, letting out a contented sigh as she emptied her bowels, Stacie knowing that moments ago she was licking the shithole that Latisha was now emptying. And as Latisha kept shitting, she pulled off her top and revealed a pair of the most firm, round, perfect chocolate-hued breasts you could possibly imagine, each topped with an even darker, big brown nipple.

"Here, bitch, suck my nipples while I shit," Latisha said, holding up a tit as Stacie eagerly reached with her lips to lick and suck the stiff morsel. Stacie's head was spinning as she realized what was happening. For weeks she'd been dragging bewildered redneck sluts here to have them lick her ass, something they did out of desperation for credit. And maybe, Stacie liked to think, because her white ass was, in fact, pretty enticing.

But today the tables had been turned. Here Stacie was, down on her knees, just having been blackmailed into licking this black ass, and now watching the haughty bitch piss and shit while she eagerly sucked her nipples.

Finally Latisha finished shitting, and reached over to run the toilet paper between her fingers.

"This tissue is much too rough fo' my tender pussy and shithole," she said, then caught sight of Stacie's scarf. Expensive designer scarves were a special love of Stacie's and she had just purchased this pale peach number at an Atlanta boutique a few weeks ago when she had visited there. Now Latisha reached for the scarf and pulled it off Stacie.

"I love that scarf; I just paid a small fortune for it," Stacie complained, but immediately knew that was a mistake, drawing Latisha's wicked scorn.

"I think I wan' you to wipe my wet pussy and dirty shithole wi' this," Latisha said with a wicked cackle, knowing she was looking at a $100 piece of silken toilet paper. 

Stacie had little choice as she bunched up the soft silk scarf and pressed it between Latisha's thighs, dabbing it against her wet pussy, staring at the gleaming brown cunt as she wiped it clean of urine.

"Very good," Latisha said, now standing up off the toilet and turning, reaching back to hold herself wide open again. "Now my shithole. Wipe it clean, bitch!"

Stacie stared at the spectacular panorama in front of her face, the perfect, smooth brown cheeks, muscled but feminine, silken and gleaming, held open now, and revealing in the crack residues of Latisha's shit clinging to her sphincter. Stacie had wiped her own shithole clean every day of her life since she had been potty trained, but she had never wiped another's, let alone so starkly viewed another woman's messy, unwiped vividly exposed bottom.

Little did Stacie imagine when she bought this expensive scarf in a designer boutique back in Atlanta that a few weeks later she'd be using it to wipe clean the dirty asshole of a beautiful black bitch right after that bitch had taken a shit! But that's exactly what she was doing right now. Could anything possibly be more humiliating – more deliciously humiliating – than being forced to wipe another woman's asshole clean after that woman had just taken a shit! Stacie's head was spinning with mixed feelings – helplessness, humiliation, lust, arousal. She could feel how wet her own pussy was becoming as she wiped Latisha's dirty ass clean with her designer scarf.

"Very good," Latisha finally said after Stacie had spent what seemed like an eternity wiping away, getting that peachy scarf soiled a deep brown. "Now finish me up with your tongue, bitch!"

Stacie didn't need any more invitation than that as now, ravenous and lust-crazed, she dug her tongue into the warm, humid anal wedge and started licking Latisha's ass. She had been licking it only minutes ago, then watched as Latisha shit from it, then wiped it clean, and now was applying the finishing touches with her tongue, a tongue greedy for the taste of this funky anal morsel. And it was still funky. Though wiped of shit, there was still a tangy zip to this asshole, which made it all the more appetizing for Stacie, who licked away hungrily.

"Oh yeah, lick it, lick it clean, bitch! Lick my black ass, my brown shithole!" Latisha sneered as Stacie licked away, digging her tongue into Latisha's bottom as far as she could, feeling Latisha's anal passage press against her probing tongue

After enjoying the white bank manager's tongue lapping away and probing at her black ass for many long minutes, Latisha turned and reached down to hold herself open.

"Now my pussy, bitch!"

And with those words Stacie pushed her tongue into the soggy brown cunt and showed Latisha why in college Stacie had the rep for being the absolutely number one cunt-lapper in her dorm, and then in her sorority. They still talk about her and her tongue back at campus. And as she licked away, Stacie managed to slide her hand between Latisha's thighs and behind her, working a single finger into the ass she had just wiped and licked clean. Latisha obviously liked that, purring like a contented kitten and pushing down on the probing finger.

"Oh yeah!!!!!" Latisha yelped as she felt Stacie's tongue take her to the brink, and then over it, her strong brown thighs quivering as a sensational orgasm overwhelmed her. And when Stacie pulled her finger out of Latisha's ass a moment later, she brought it up to her mouth and licked it, licked it rather lewdly, a sight which made the black woman, now regaining her breath, smile. 

"Here, you can keep these as a memento," Latisha said minutes later, giving Stacie her red and very worn panties, then sliding up her tight leather pants over her bare bottom. And then, blushing, Stacie picked up the shit-smeared, streaked and stained silk scarf off the floor and slipped it into her bag. She knew she'd keep and savor that scarf, launder it and save it, knowing she'd never quite get the brown stain out of it, that stain always reminding her of this amazing encounter. In the next few years, she'd press that scarf – that very special 'toilet paper' – against her pussy a hundred times, masturbating as she relived this day in her feverish mind.




Bottom Feeders



"Now let's go back to your office and get me that loan!"



Bottom Kim



Kim was tied down and helpless.

She was stretched out on her back on the bed, with her hands tied over her head to the headboard, and her legs secured with a spreader bar. She was blindfolded, and had a phallic ball gag in place in her mouth. The lights were low in the room, not that she could really tell: just a couple of scented candles. Kim herself had on a subtle perfume. Her exotic mane of curly reddish brown hair framed he face nicely, and her make-up, as usual, was well done. Red, red lipstick, a touch of rouge on her cheeks, luscious eyelashes, but nothing overdone, nothing too slutty. Her outfit for the evening was a black lacy body stocking type of affair, sleeveless, covering her from her neck down to her jutting silicone titties to her black come-fuck-me pumps. It was crotchless, of course – so that her cock and balls were exposed and vulnerable.

Yes, she was exposed and vulnerable to the man lying next to her. The man who had taken up where Kim’s ex-girlfriend had left off, the man who had seduced Kim and was completing Kim’s transformation into a complete transvestite sex slave. She still felt confused, excited, afraid…

Thank Goddess that the man, though strict and demanding, was also a warm, compassionate gentleman, a man who had never hurt her, had never pushed her too far, who was always careful with her, even in his moments of fiercest passion, even when she had teased him and provoked him into a sexual rampage upon her almost virgin body. She was till getting to know him, even as he was getting to know his little sex pet, his submissive little TV toy.

This afternoon, she could only feel him beside her, only hear his breathing, only smell the scent of his man body. She could not see him, nor could she reach out, neither to feel his thrilling cock come to life, nor to protect herself if for some reason he decided to ravish her like the common whore that she so often felt like. But she could feel his eyes upon her, feasting on her womanly clothing, enjoying all her efforts at feminine illusion and deception. She so hoped he liked it…she had done it all just for him. She loved to make this man feel special, and she knew better than any “ordinary” woman what a man wants and needs. Nor did she particularly need this strict and explicit instructions on how to dress and what to do: she knew, because she was a man too, after all.

But, oh, the joys of being turned into a woman by this man! He had guided her thru so much so quickly. She was already his lady, his girlfriend, his cum-slut, his sissy whore, his toy. And she had been the one who had opened up so much for him. She had made him feel dominant, powerful, and capable of bestowing pleasure and inspiring lust.

She had worshipped his cock from their first meeting a few weeks ago, even before they met. She had fantasized about it, had masturbated while looking at pictures of it. The first time they met she had given him a beautiful blow job. It was slow, sweet, and long. They had both been nervous about meeting – they were both “virgins” in a sense. She had been so sweetly submissive, patiently mouthing his cock, savoring the slow awakening of his manhood. She loved the feeling only cocksuckers know – the feeling of feeling the cock with her mouth, knowing that SHE was making it harden. He had caressed her cheeks and played with her hair. She had still been too embarrassed, too intimidated, too submissive to look into his eyes as she blew him. But they still had made the connection, and they both knew it. After he exploded in her warm, wet mouth, they both were on the verge of tears, tears of ecstasy. And that was just the beginning…

Now he had her bound and helpless on the bed, and he began to explore her body. He brushed his fingertips gently over her lace-clad thing, her hips, her waist (pulled tight by the corset she wore underneath the body stocking, her arms. He toyed with her toy titties, which made her wish for a moment that she had a real pair of really big ones for her master to suck and bite and play with. But then he began to run his fingers down into the cutaway area at her crotch. He began to brush his fingers against her carefully trimmed pubes, down to her upper thighs…She felt that tingle in her cock and balls. He could still make her feel that way. She felt his breath, warm and moist, as he blew gently across her crotch. His lips must have been a millimeter away from the head of her cock. And then her cock throbbed and twitched, just enough to actually touch his face, and felt his whiskery stubble. He chuckled at her involuntary response, but she felt even more confused and embarrassed.

Next she felt his fingers run along the seam of her balls, and reach down under her balls to her most sensitive spot of all. Oh Goddess, why was she born with these feelings, with such a sensitive ass, with a rectum with a never-ending need to be stretched and filled? She knew there was no answer. She could only lay back helplessly and wait as he took his sweet time, rubbing her anal opening, slowly probing it, first just the tip, then up to a knuckle or two…She moaned and groaned as best she could, considering the gag in her mouth. It wasn’t long before there were two well-greased fingers intruding into her rectum. Oh Goddess, Oh Goddess, she wanted him so bad now, she just wanted his cock, why won’t he put his cock in me and fuck me now? Please make him fuck me now, sweet Goddess of Luv, please! Such was his hold over her, that she realized she had even adopted his religion, and now worshipped Aphrodite, the pagan goddess of eros.

At last, she felt him slide his fingers out of her, and get up to mount her. He grabbed the bar in one hand, and with the other deftly slapped her own erect cock and balls out of the way, and guided his cock up to her greasy whore hole.

“Are you ready, my little darling, my little slut?”

Kim could only whimper a desperate affirmation.

In went his cock. There was little resistance to his entry, but once in, her asshole muscles reflexively gripped his long shaft. They both shuddered in physical joy. Then he began his slow strokes, slow, short strokes to loosen her rectal grip on his tool. Gradually his strokes became longer, harder. He relieved her ankles of the bar, and grasped her ankles in own hands. He had her luscious legs spread and he reared up to enjoy the sight. She was a slut beauty, all clad in her black lace. The weight of his body pressed against her balls and erect cock, not hard, but just enough to keep a pleasant pressure on them. She was whimpering in pleasure and perverted lust, as she felt her master ream her rectal love chamber. His mind was a blur of carnal sensations, sights, scents, sounds all mingling with outrageous thoughts and the sheer joy of fucking his very own sissy slut.

Now he shifter his weight even more, spreading her legs wider and pushing her ankles down almost to the bed. He was pounding her almost vertically, pile-driving her ass, like she nothing but a whore hole, a bitch in heat, and he was a horse-cocked fuck machine. He ripped off the gag so she could scream hi name, but it was no use. Neither of them could speak words, they could only utter the most animal sounds. He climaxed in her, shooting jets of jism into her bowels. At the same time, she experienced that bizarre form of ecstasy, where her rectum pulsed and throbbed in an orgasm along with his cock, while at the same time her own cock shot warm cum all over her belly. With his last bit of clarity, he ripped the Velcro cuffs apart and collapsed on her in a sweaty heap. She put her arms around him and held him there, with their wet squishy genitals gently squashed between their bodies.

She was his sissy slut whore forever.



Bottom of My Glass



As I watched her from across the busy dance floor of the bar she leaned against the wall lit dimly by a single wall accent lamp. Her features gently outlined by the light revealed she was a few years older than I, but she seemed to be looking for someone, as her eyes darted from person to person.

I sat drinking a Coke from the other side of the bar on the upper level from a bar type stool at the edge of the rail, as I watched her stocking leg bounce to the beat in her patent leather heels. Her skirt was short, but appropriate and didn't show too much, but just enough to spark imagination, and her v-neck top revealed her lovely soft skin and just the very slightest shadow of her cleavage. She looked very nice in the soft light that accented her body this evening.

I had drank all but the last bit of my Coke, and she was still alone, and her legs still tapped out the pounding beat from the speakers all around. She lit a cigarette in the dim light which instantly lit up her pretty facial features that had been once hidden in the dim light. Her eyes still darted around from face to face around the bar, but they never seemed to rest on any one person. As she exhaled the light made her exhaled smoke look like an egyptian veil over her pretty face. 

I sucked back the last of my now watery Coke and decided to walk over and talk to her. Her hair was very nicely done and she smiled shyly as I approached. I introduced myself and asked if she wanted to dance. She decided not to dance but she settled to just sit and talk a while since she had been standing most of the evening.

She was waiting for her "blind" date to arrive, but he hadn't so I offered to keep her company till he arrived. We talked for a little while but the music was too loud to be able to hear very well, so we left and went to a small café down the block. 

It was really quiet in the café, and the brighter lighting revealed how beautiful this woman really was. Her complexion was fair and her eyes bright, and she seemed to enjoy the company... I did!

We talked till the café closed up and then I walked her to her car, asked for her keys and opened her door for her. I had always wanted to do that, and I was glad she let me. She sat down in the car and I gently closed the door for her. She smiled sweetly back at me as she rolled down her window and asked if I needed a ride home. I said I had planned to walk home, but if she was going my way that I would love a ride.

She said she had to stop at her house first to do something but she said that she would drop me off at home right after.

Once we arrived at her house she offered me a drink, so I asked for water, but she had some wine. We sat on her living room couch for a while talking, and all the while we talked she had her hand on my thigh. As her wine glass emptied her hand floated higher on my thigh. I didn't mind as I liked her touch, it was gentle and subtly arousing.

By the end of her second glass I had quite a noticable lump in my jeans, but tried not to draw attention to it. Her hand was a mere inch away from it, and she slid closer to me. We were so close we were touching , and I leaned over to kiss her pretty lips.

Our lips met gently, and I tenderly kissed her lips. We kissed again and our tongues met passionately flitting and darting around in her mouth. Our next kiss was deeper....slower...and very much more passionate than previous and her hand slid up onto the lump in my jeans. She gave my hard cock a gentle squeeze as she pulled away.

She then pulled off her top and her skin radiated in the soft lamp light of her living room. She was certainly a very sexy sensual woman, and she knew it. She looked at me with a sultry look in her eyes, and began to slide her fingers along the edges of her bra strap from the tops of her shoulders to the middle of her chest between her breasts. 

I reached for her but she backed away and stood up. She began to sway back and forth in a slow dance to music that only existed in her head. I watched quietly as she turned around doing her little dance. She reached back and undid her bra, and looked back at me when the straps sprung apart. I had a large grin on my face as she slowly slid one strap off her shoulder, and then the other but she held the cups in place till she had her arms out of the shoulder loops. She then lifted her hands to her head and arched her back slightly which pressed her breasts out and the bra fell to the floor. Her lovely nipples were very hard and standing very erect at the ends of her very shapely breasts. I knew than that I would love to close my lips on one or both and suck them long and hard. My mouth watered in anticipation as I continued to watch her show. She danced slowly as she bent to slip off her skirt, her stocking covered legs looked so smooth and long as the skirt fell to the floor. She had pretty little thong silk panties on that were black, and they shimmered as she moved. 

My eyes were fixed on this erotic woman as she tantalized and teased me. I wanted to do so many things to her I couldn't believe how excited I was.

Then a strange thing happened. I heard her say, "Sir? Sir? What will you have?"

I quickly looked up from the bottom of my Coke glass and realized it was a waitress at the bar....gosh I love daydreams!



Bottom of the Ladder



Meredith strode around in her black and silver pinstriped skirtsuit, arms crossed with her silver-framed glasses pulled down just far enough to rest on her nose. Her hair was pulled back and tied up, exposing her lean neck that poured down into the tanned skin of her upper chest.

Another day in the office monitoring her staff and making sure that no covert windows of social networking appeared on the computer screens. It's funny how sales and production slipped between the hours of her-not-being-around a.m. and her-not-being-seen p.m.

Meredith understood that unsupervised employees would do what they could to get over on any policy. Still, she didn't like it. Her father had taught her, "Hard work wins the race every time!!!" She didn't particularly believe in this fully, but knew that this would be how she ran things.

As she paced down aisle after aisle checking to see who was working and who was "faking it", her leather round-toe heels silently stretched and exercised her calf muscles. It didn't matter to her the pain of it all as she had to take the good with the bad; the resulting roundness and tightness of her ass as it stretched through the skirt had several of the office men stealing glances after she passed. It amazed her how the gentlemen disregarded discreetness in their stares as she viewed them from the slight reflection in her glasses.

She continued walking past several of the personnel, however, a bit slowly. Had she the time of day, she would've fucked one or two of them just to relieve herself of some pent up stress and enjoyed the sensation of some good hard dick inside of her again. Running a company left the meaning of personal time to be just a passing fantasy.

Meredith eyed Pete, the obvious arrogant one of the bunch as he dared to stare at her directly as she neared him. His heavily muscled chest was obviously too large to be contained in that pansy dress shirt. Pete just methodically tapped his pen on the desk as she was but one foot away from him, still eyeing her. Meredith was sickened of him and his attitude; he looked as if he knew that, at any moment, he could fuck her if he wanted to. She frowned at him just a bit as she was passing him, rotating her head around to keep her eyes locked on his. His reaction: While rotating his chair around to follow her, there was a smile, an obvious perusal at her ass, and then a wink. Was there an erection in his pants?

Meredith turned back around quickly continuing on down the aisle. That arrogant asshole probably didn't know what to do with that huge dick of his. He probably wouldn't even make it feel right as he threw her on her office desk spreading her legs far apart. His penetration would be weak as she locked her legs around his strong back begging for more as she rubbed at his chest and pinched her breasts. The strong dick that he forced inside her, stimulating her lips and clitoris, probably wouldn't even make her cum -- not that much.

Meredith was ripped from her thoughts, about Pete's dick marauding her pussy, as you-know-who walked in, late: Stacy Gamble. A Complete, Cluster, Fuck-Up. Meredith cringed with immediate hatred. This was the office's weak link. Always late, disheveled as ever, and producing mediocre work, Stacy had definitely made a rather weak name for herself.

Stacy's entrance had included an unsurprising stumbling on her part with dropping some books and falling to her knees.

Meredith shook her head. Well, at least the girl was actually dressed decent today, though she still had the appearance of someone rushed through several parties before making it to work. The girl donned a tan pencil skirt with a slit up the middle front and back. The skirt was matched with a slingback pump with a square-toe. A tattered white blouse with a plunging neckline struggled to hold in her young breasts as she reached over to retrieve her books.

Stacy finally raised her head to see Meredith peering down through her glasses.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry, Ms. Jones...I was going to call, but—"

"I don't need to hear it, Gamble." Meredith's voice was stern and calm. She had had enough with the tardiness, excuses, etc. "Go to my office, please."

Stacy appeared as if she was about to cry. Her delicate little face was all confusion with all the traces of naïveté. As she stood up, she trailed her way to Meredith's office with her head drooped down and her little bottom swaying.

********

Meredith had just re-entered her office, glad to finally be able to rest her feet from the pumps that gave men the prized view of her nice ass. She disregarded the downcast looking Stacy sitting on her office couch as she walked past her. Finally having reached her desk, Meredith began to slip off her shoes as she sipped from her "special coffee". A little Bailey's and coffee kept her going throughout the day.

"Look, Ms. Jones I'm really sorry—"

"I haven't addressed you, Stacy. I will do so when I'm ready to speak with you." Meredith slipped into her leather recliner and slowly slid away from behind the desk to get closer to her huge office window. The only thing separating her from Stacy was a Persian rug and a glass coffee table. Meredith mindlessly stared out into the big city, completely disregarding Stacy to her oblique back right who was sitting on the couch and anxious about what may happen.

As Meredith crossed her legs, she gracefully stroked her right knee while taking in the sight of her freshly painted toes. Her legs belonged to that of a younger woman's and she often fawned over them. As she stroked her knee, she started thinking of Pete from before and let her left hand start to teasingly slip down her upper thigh until the hem of the skirt bunched up to just below her ass. She heard a rustling to her right.

Meredith slowly rotated around, only stopping once she was fully facing Stacy. She wiggled her toes a bit enjoying the air that passed through them. She glared at Stacy with her eyes glowered down just a bit as she sipped on her "coffee".

"Ms. Gamble, how old are you?" Meredith slowly rocked from side to side, rotating her chair but never too much to not keep focus on Stacy.

"Um ...I'm twenty four, ma'am." Stacy had the eyes of a deer caught in head lights. She didn't know where anything was leading or might lead to.

"Do you know how old I am?" Meredith looked at the way Stacy's brunette strands just hung about her shoulders as limp and lazy as the girl whose head they sprawled from. Despite her nervous and weird demeanor, the young woman had a symmetrically angled face and the immaturity on her face was cute in and of itself.

"No, I don't..." Stacy was looking down at her hands in her lap.

"Stacy, I'm forty-three years old. And I didn't become owner of this company by being a rather lack-luster employee. Do you get my drift?" Meredith had stopped spinning her chair and moved it a bit closer to Stacy's location. Her coffee finished, she just placed the mug on the floor.

"I do, Ms. Jones. It's just that—"

"Stacy, excuses don't get you very far in this world. And as such, I'm afraid that you're not producing enough to continue on with this company."

"No! Please give me another chance, Ms. Jones!" Stacy had finally looked up, bewildered. Tears were starting to fall from her eyes, all of which had no effect on Meredith. Stacy reached out and grabbed the edge of the coffee table as she knelt down to the floor. Her pencil skirt had ridden up just a bit and, with the slit in the front, it was showing quite a bit up her inner thighs.

"Please, Stacy. Begging is quite unbecoming." Meredith showed a look of disgust as the girl continued crying. "I say now, STOP IT!!!" She had had enough of the loud disturbance. "Explain to me why you have performed so lowly."

Sobbing quietly, Stacy began. "I've been having problems with my boyfriend and the bills. We bought a house together and he's been spending large amounts of his check on frivolous things. We end up fighting all night and then I'm so exhausted for the next morning and I oversleep." Stacy ran her nimble little fingers through her hair as she told her story. From her kneeling position she looked up at Meredith. "I'm really sorry and I will try and do better. Please, just give me another chance."

Meredith had been scooting her chair over closer to the poor girl as she told her story, mesmerized at the stupidity of young folks.

"Why would you go in on a housing agreement with someone you're not married to? Don't even answer because I know the answer is stupid." Finally next to the poor kneeling girl, Meredith peered down at her. The white blouse clearly was too loose for the ample bosom of the woman and stressful tears and sweat ran the length down the young woman's neck and chest.

"Please, Ms. Jones...I really need this job." Stacy was staring into the older woman's face, no shame about her begging whatsoever. Her lips were pouty and mascara ran down her little cheeks.

Meredith looked down the length of her leg to her toes, yet again.

"The issue is why I would want to keep you, Ms. Gamble. You're providing me with nothing but a loss of money."

Stacy drooped her head back down, the silent tears racing down her face and into her blouse.

"Do you, in fact, want to keep this job by all means? Perhaps, even a special assignment?" Meredith sharply aimed her eyes into the poor girl's face until the girl looked up. Stacy's lip was quivering with fear as she was forced to eye her menacing boss.

A precious little nod came from the twenty-four year old.

"Stacy. Stacy Gamble...How do you like my toes?" Meredith had taken on a foreign strange look of niceness. She flailed her toes while pointedly looking at Stacy.

Stacy's look was that of horror and confusion. What did this have to do with anything? Looking down at Meredith's toes, she commented. "They are beautiful. Your toes are very beautiful."

"You know, Stacy...I don't like lying little women, especially on my work force. Do you or don't you like my toes?" Meredith snarled her face at the young woman.

Stacy started shaking unsure as to what she should do. The older woman's toes did, in fact, look very young and vibrant and she didn't want to seem like a liar.

Stacy bent over forwards feeling the plush Persian rug under her hands. In this position, her breasts dangled heavily against the cheap cotton blouse. She reached up and brushed her hand through her hair again to get it out of her face. She began moving forwards on hands and knees.

After several moves forward, Stacy was right in front of her boss, Meredith, with the older woman's dangling foot inches away from her face.

"I really do like your toes, Ms. Jones." Stacy remained on hands and knees, peering up at Meredith like a worried child.

Meredith had watched the girl proceed on hands and knees from the couch and kept her face in a stern gaze. With the girl right down below her, she transformed her snarl into a look of blankness. Meredith slowly started rotating the chair again after she moved forward several inches first.

Swaying from right to left slowly in her leather chair, Meredith's right toe grazed underneath Stacy's nose. The young girl didn't flinch, however. Meredith continued the arc before stopping and beginning the return trip the other way. Again, her toe lightly brushed under the young woman's nose again. All the while, the girl continued looking up at Meredith with drying tears on her face.

Upon the third time of Meredith brushing her toe under Stacy's nose, she stopped right there leaving her toe on Stacy's upper lip. Still looking at the unmoving young woman, Meredith slid her toe down slowly until the tip of it pressed at the crease between Stacy's lips. Giving the pressure behind it a bit of force, Meredith forced Stacy's mouth open with her toe. Stacy's eyes closed.

********

A toe had forced its way into my mouth and I was in shock and didn't know what to do. I needed my job, and I needed it badly. I didn't have time for this invasion that was occurring; my boss was in the middle of talking to me... That being the case, I remained on my hands and knees allowing the digit entrance into my warm mouth, hoping that it would soon be over to return to my boss again. With my eyes closed, it was easier for me to wait out this violation...

Bit by bit, inch by inch, the salty toe entered into my mouth. My mouth having enveloped the toe all the way, I heard a distant command from worlds apart: "Stacy, show me how much you love my toes..." Immediately, my tongue began to swathe over the toe. It was such the perfect size for my little mouth and I had to hurry and get this over with to complete some sort of special assignment. Yes, I had to do a special assignment...

Soon enough, however, I felt that I had to try harder to get out of this weird world I was in so that I could get back to the real world of saving my job. I reached up my right hand and took hold of the heel of the foot. With the foot locked in place, I began licking down the length of the entire foot. At times, a foreign image would appear in my eyes and I would see a woman delving her hand into a jacket and seemingly rubbing her chest.

Whenever I reached the arch in the foot that I had possession of, I would bite into it sensitively, causing a moaning sound to infect my hearing. I had to disregard it, though, because my focus was on my special assignment...

Soon, a hand was on the back of my neck and my head followed: it had apparently been lead to a warm polyester enclosure and soon my vision and head was enshrouded in darkness. Once again, the voice from far away echoed some command to some poor person: "Show me how hungry you are to keep the job; I need a young tongue to touch it and suck it." What a poor person, I thought to myself. At any rate, I felt an emanating heat in front of my face and, without my vision, I searched the area with my tongue. At first, I felt smoothness like that of skin that seemed to be split on either side symmetrically. On one of my tongue explorations, I found a mound in between the "split" and when my tongue circled over it, I realized the hand on the back of my neck ceased some of its pressure.

I figured that I had made some sort of breakthrough. I had been talking to my boss earlier and then, magically, slipped into another world. But I needed to escape this world and return to the real one in order to complete my assignment for my boss in order to keep my job. Realizing that I had eased the hand from imprisoning me by circling, what felt like, a fleshy button, I continued to work my tongue.

The taste in my mouth was tangy and extra juices always seemed to flow down my chin. At times, my tongue would become tired and the licking would slack off but then the pressure on the back of my head would increase. So, I learned to always flicker my tongue in a steady clockwise motion. After a bit, I felt warm skin on either side of my ears and then I heard yelling from that other world again: "Yes, lick my pussy just like that...don't stop, please don't fucking stop! Stick your fingers inside of me and feel my wetness" Strange words, I thought to myself.

Anyway, disregarding the strange commentary from the other world, I felt the need to explore the cave my tongue was in with my fingers. I reached up my right hand and took its middle finger and felt into the darkness until it plunged into a warm moist hole. Again, as with the tongue action, I found that pulls on my head were less strenuous when I plugged the hole below the fleshy mound with my finger.

I, then, decided to keep plunging the hole while tasting with my tongue until that other voice said more weird things: "I'm about to cum Stacy, oh yessss! Let me cum inside your mouth..." I shrugged at the cryptic nature of the statement just in time to move my mouth to the hole I had been plunging. At the same exact instant, a slight sweetness entered my mouth...

********

Stacy blinked back, a bit baffled. As she had remembered, she was kneeling in front of her boss waiting on hearing a way to salvage her job. However, Meredith was leaned back in her leather chair and her skirt was hiked obscenely high and showing a bit of her womanhood. Stacy looked away a bit embarrassed at Meredith's lack of modesty.

Stacy was further confused: for some odd reason or another, her chin was completely moist as well as her right hand. She shrugged it off as excessive crying and peered to her boss waiting on the outcome of her job status.

Meredith finally leaned forward again and looked down at Stacy.

"Go over to my desk and search for my next week's flight itinerary." Meredith had a cluster of papers on her desk and she hadn't been able to successfully locate some things.

Meredith watched as Stacy stood up, the front of the young girl's blouse completely wet with sweat amongst other things. As the young woman made her way over to the desk, Meredith slowly slid the chair back over to her desk as well.

********

Stacy was unsuccessfully trying to locate anything that remotely appeared to be an itinerary on her boss' desk. Meanwhile, she was aware that her boss was directly behind her sitting in her chair.

Stacy began to become more and more nervous: Her special assignment of just having to find an itinerary would cause her to lose her job??? She reached further over the cherry-wood desk in a desperate effort to find the document. As she did so, her skirt with the high split in the front as well as the back showed more of her legs.

Meredith had sat back silently, waiting on the young woman to do what she had asked of her. She had straightened her own skirt back out and reorganized her hair. There could possibly be promise for this young one. As she viewed the woman becoming more desperate and reaching forward over the desk, she saw the split in the skirt revealing more of her olive-skinned toned back thighs.

Meredith ran her right hand under her skirt and found her still spittle/cum-soaked pussy pulsating with life. She hooked two of her fingers inside and immediately reached up to her G-spot. She dug up and around within her vagina, making huge swirling motions while riding her fingers at the same time. The memory of that young face down under her skirt lapping up her pussy wouldn't leave her mind. As she continued her own molestation, she focused her eyes on the tan pencil skirt in front of her. The ass underneath it was so plush and round and the thought of the set of huge breasts around front had Meredith starting to silently groan.

On one of Stacy's particular reaches across the huge desk, Meredith couldn't help herself and reached a hand between the young professional's legs...

********

I remember I had been put on a special assignment to find something but now I had an obstacle. Some slithering snake with seemingly five heads was creeping its way up my legs...

There was nothing I could do about it as I was frozen in fear and, yet, I still had to find a way to complete my task. I decided to try and ignore it as I continued on my search.

More slithering, more squeezing: the snake was relentless between my legs and it was using all five of its heads to snake around the inside of my thighs. I squeezed my legs tightly and continued bending over and focusing on getting out of this strange land again, and continuing on with the business at hand. However, the snake had different plans for me...

It had snaked its way up to my deep dark recesses. I gripped onto a wooden object in front of me as I was caught off-guard. But the serpent didn't stop there; in a winding gloating way, it curved around and sent one of its five heads into me.




Bottom of the Ladder



I gasped out loud and whimpered just a bit as the phallic member winded its way into me, abandoning any permission from myself. I gripped onto the wooden surface before me, balancing on it as best as I could. In its own eerie dance, the snake-head took upon a mesmerizing dance that further climbed its way into me. With the cursed way of its dance, it spelled me into the same motions...

Soon, my hips had started to complement the snake-head's own movements and was pushing and grinding down, allowing the slithering invasion more access to myself.

As this evil dance continued, another five-headed snake had ripped apart at my blouse and was testing at my right breast, tugging the nipple. Did these monsters know no bounds??!!?? 

I realized that I was in a losing battle: with one five-headed snake groping between my legs, with one head winding through the insides of my body, and another five-headed snake pinching and working at my breasts, my will and resolve were being dissolved within seconds. Furthermore, a suctioning pair of flesh was now on my neck and all I could do was close my eyes.

My body had been conquered by unearthly things, all made to distract me from saving my job. My hips were useless, grinding down heavily on one snake while my right nipple was systematically growing in response to the tugging...Added to that, my neck was arching and allowing the fleshly suctioning pumps to greedily feed into its skin...

It wasn't long before my mouth gave in to my own assault: 

"Yes, Meredith...Fuck me, sweetly...I think about you all the time as I sit at my cubicle. I love watching you parade in your outfits, wondering when you will notice and fuck me...I become so jealous at the way you and Petey look at each other because I want you to be mine..."

What the hell was happening? Why was my mouth trying to appease my captor? I just wanted to get back on task with saving my job... Then, that other voice from the other world again: "Pick up my phone and call your boyfriend."

My betraying voice in return: "Yes, my love."

My fingers that were joining in to my ultimate take-over began dialing my boyfriend. After several rings, he answers.

Other worldly voice: "Put it on speaker phone."

My defective body does as asked. With my boyfriend's breathing now heard over the phone, my captor begins.

"This is Meredith, Stacy's boss. You have not been providing for your woman and now she's mine. Don't expect to fuck her anymore until you can be a man to her."

"WHO THE FUCK IS THIS, STOP PLAYING GAMES WITH—"

"Hush now, young boy. Just listen." 

Stacy feels the snakes becoming more frantic. Another snake-head has taken control over her clitoris and is tugging, twisting, and flickering it a mile per minute while the one inside her reaches even further.

Stacy screams out. "Oh shit, please don't stop. Keep fucking me please. It's all yours; it's all yours...Just never stop. Run your fingers through my pussy just like that." Tears have once again paraded down her eyes.

In the middle of her screams the sound is muffled: Her mouth has been clamped down by the suctioning duo and she breathes easily into them; giving her life force away for good.

"She's mine now. You need to move out as quickly as possible." Meredith hangs up the phone and pulls Stacy back with her onto the leather chair as she continues fondling the soon to be promoted, Assistant Manager.



Bottom on Top



I will admit it. I am a bottom normally. My fantasy life is filled with images of me as innocent and naïve, a naughty little sex toy and an exploited porn star. I like the idea of being taken advantage of, forced to do that which I would not normally choose for myself. The taboo, the naughty, the dirty.

My primary lover is a natural top. There is nothing I love more than his grabbing my hair or chewing the back of my neck. He can put me in sub space with just a look in his eyes. 

We are both ass-lovers. The first time I ever admitted to him that I love anal sex he jokingly asked me to marry him. I am still considering it. He taught me about the joy of giving a rim job, and now I can eat ass for hours. And his tongue was the first to ever find its way to my tight little hole. I had never really believed anyone could want that dirty thing before, but he just seemed to savor it.

A few days ago we were in bed, slowly teasing each other, preparing for an afternoon of love-making. In a moment of arousal he confessed that he has a little subbie in him, too.

"Eeeeeeeeek!" I thought. In my work as a phone sex operator, I have been called upon to be more dominant on calls than I normally am in my "real" life. I have discovered that I actually really like it and am pretty good at it. But this was different. Here was my real-life lover, confessing that he liked to be a bottom sometimes! I wish I could say my predominant emotion was excitement, but fear prevailed. 

But I summoned the courage to ask what he wished for. "For you to stretch out my ass with progressively larger anal plugs...And to make me eat your ass and cunt. And spankings...I like to be spanked....and...will you? Will you strap on that biggest dildo I have and be my boyfriend, fucking my ass?...And...I want to eat my cum out of your pussy...and your ass."

*Gush* Fear went out the door as my pussy began to get wet. I have fantasies about my guy getting fucked by a bigger, more dominant man, and here he was, asking ME to be that man. Little me.

I sent him off to get a towel, pulling out lube and my favorite glass plug from the toy drawer by the bed. I instructed him to get on his knees, his ass in the air, his shoulders and head on the bed. This is the position I so often maintain for him. He always says he loves to see my little ass pucker and beg for him. Now I understand why. There might be nothing sexier than a strong and dominant man on his knees, his ass exposed and vulnerable, begging for my touch.

But first, I wanted to see that ass pink. 

"Are you ready for your spankings?" I asked. "I want to hear you beg."

"I've been a naughty boy. Please spank me," he whimpered.

As he had done so often for me, I warmed up his bottom, preparing him with light taps before "whap!" I slapped his ass cheek. The place I had hit turned slightly pink, but my guy didn't even flinch. Clearly I was going to have to be tougher.

"Whap!!!" This time my hand slapped the surface of the skin harder, stinging my hand. And he flinched, but just barely.

Next I began to slap without warning, over and over, until my hand was burning with pain, tears in my own eyes beginning to form. I could see him tightening and relaxing, trying to accept the pain, until finally he said he had had enough. "Whew!" I thought. I didn't think I could take any more.

But now, that ass in the air, he began to beg for me to fill him. First, I ran my finger lightly around and around that little brown pucker. Next, I lay the unlubed pad of my forefinger on his ass, which began to open, pulling my finger in, deeper and deeper. I slowly moved my finger around and around, stretching and opening his asshole, until he begged for the plug.

After sliding my finger out, I sniffed it. There is something primal about the smell of ass. As a child, I used to rub my finger on the outside of my ass as I lay in bed at night, then sniff it as I fell asleep. My lover's ass smells musky and bitter, and my nose communicates directly with my cunt, which was getting wetter and hotter by the moment.

The heavily lubed plug I placed on the outside of his asshole. "I want to see you push into it," I said. I held the plug still as he pressed backward, his ass swallowing that clear piece of glass until, with a pop, it was deep inside him, the dark hole at the center of the base giving me a lovely view into the inside of his tunnel.

"Turn over," I demanded, as now I was uncontrollably horny. He had said he wanted to eat my ass; now I could wait no longer for him to make good on that promise. He lay on his back as I straddled his face, my cunt over his mouth, my juices dripping onto his tongue. He sucked my clit like a parched man might suck dew off a blade of grass, gently but with desperation. He slid his tongue into my pussy as if he were trying to drain me of all my juices. And then I slid down, forcing his mouth over my ass. I opened my asshole wide for him, his tongue buried as deep as any finger, but wider, wetter and, if possible, more forceful. 

I lay back, my hair brushing his hard cock. His knees were bent, his hips pushing the plug deeper and deeper into his asshole as he dug his tongue into mine. I began to rock and moan until waves of orgasm overtook me, my juices covering his face, my legs squeezing his head. I still don't know if he was able to breathe while I came.

I rolled off him, sliding my head around next to him. We began to kiss, our tongues searching out the recesses of each other's mouths. I could taste and smell myself on his mouth—-the sweetness of my cunt juices, the musky smell of my ass. I had my hand on his cock, stroking it just the way I know he likes, grasping the skin at the base and pulling it up over the head, with just a hint of a twist to my wrist. Within moments he was moaning as he came, shooting his juices out over his stomach, onto my face, and into my mouth. His cum tasted, as it always does, like mint, and I savored it as he convulsed with orgasmic after-shocks.

I still haven't gotten to strap-on that dildo and be his boyfriend. And we need to do some shopping to get some larger plugs. He hasn't yet eaten his cum out of my cunt or ass. But we have many days ahead, and many stories yet to tell.



Bottom on Top



Bottom on Top

It starts with a dream ... 

For Michael

* * * * *

Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (12.5 min/mp3)

* * * * *


You are dreaming. You're dreaming that you're fucking. Almost awake, you're vaguely wondering what you're fucking -- or whom. The wrinkled sheets of a lonely bed? Some whore you turned to in wistful lust? The lover of a lifetime who knows how you like to fuck and will fuck around with you? Let the dream be of her. Don't wake! Cling to the fantasy that you're grinding your hips into her soft muscled thighs, pumping your rod into her pussy, not the unyielding mattress.... 

Jesus, c'mon! In my impatience I pinch your leg to make you wake up. 

Now you realise that your hardening cock is in fact enwrapped in my little fingers. Softly I'm jerking you off out of your dream of whores or bedsheets or whatever frightful Freudian fantasy dreams of sex might be; since dreaming about anything-else is actually about sex. 

God! what an awakening! The morning light is rising softly in the bedroom. My fingers are jerking up and down, your cock stiffening to the salute. You make to roll and take me in your arms, to plunge yourself into my warm lovely cunt. 

Then you realise that you're tied up. Twisting your head, you see that I've used the belts of my cotton kimonos to tie your wrists to the bedhead. "What the Fuck?!" you say. 

I've left your legs free. You make an initial kicking. As my hand falls away from your engorged throbbing cock, you wake fully to the realisation that if I've tied you to the bedhead in order to fondle your dick, it's probably worth playing along. 

"What the Fuck?" you say again, starting to laugh. 

"More like, what to fuck," I suggest, sliding my hand to cup around your balls. I finger them like toys. I make sure I press on the erogenous spot just behind them. 

"I can't fuck, tied up and lying on my back," you protest. 

"Shut up," I reply. "Kiss my arse." 

I kneel up and shuffle up the bed. Straddling your lean hairy chest, I hold onto the bedhead between your tied hands. I position my pussy over your face. Eagerly your tongue comes poking at my pussy lips, between them. You flick and lick at my clit so that I start panting and giggling. I slide my hands to grip on your tied hands, trying not to wriggle with excitement; I don't want to move inadvertently away from the pleasing teasing of your tongue. 

Now you're fucking me with your tongue, pressing up into the creaming loosening muscles of my cunt. I grunt and moan, my hips jerk towards your plunging tongue. The sweet juices of my wet pussy must be flowing, you're making mock slurping noises at this unorthodox breakfast and I laugh and then gasp as a mini orgasmic shudder ripples in my belly and loins. 

Panting with pleasure, I move away from your thrusting tongue. I turn to lay myself over your body and position my mouth above your cock. Meanly, I kneel in such a way that you get a full view of the crack in my arse but can't reach it with your tongue. You jerk your head despairingly towards me to no avail. My knotted kimono belts hold firm. 

You're obliged to lie there admiring the view. The crack between the rounded pale buttocks, the dark rosebud of my arsehole, the strip of hair and the fleshy lips pouting to show the glistening partially tongue-fucked pussy which you love to pleasure with a plunging cock. 

Speaking of your cock, I am kissing it. I'm kissing it lightly and often in a manner which makes you groan and your hips buck, your feet twitch in frustration. In a minute you're going to lose your temper and kick me with frustration. The only thing that stops you is the realisation that then I'll go off and cook breakfast while you have to lie back all tied up with your cock at half-mast. 

OK, OK, LOL. I start to slide my lips down over the head of your cock, to suck the sensitive head. I make appreciative noises and wriggle my bum, opening the delectable crack of my arse wider for your viewing pleasure. 

As I slide my mouth deeper and harder, taking more and more of the length of your dick into my hot soft mouth, you grunt and thrust rhythmically up to me. I curl my tongue about and suck on you like you are a fucking Magnum icecream lolly -- mmmmm! my favourite. Oh, creamy salty pre-cum, yum! 

You are really throbbing and starting to get close to cumming ... so I stop and lift my mouth away. You give a great laughing cry of protest. 

"You're my fuck toy today, you big bastard," I say, rolling back round to lie beside you. I snuggle to your side, idly playing my fingers in your chest hair and sniggering. 

"Fucking Hell!" you moan. Your hips are still bucking softly in the attempt to jerk your cock into my mouth. I can tell you are really tempted to kick me but you know that then I'll go off and cook breakfast. Maybe even get dressed and go shopping, until you're willing to lie back and be toyed with as I please. In fact, if by accident you kick me too hard, I will get into a stinky temper and probably go shopping for shoes! 

I kneel up and move back down the bed. You watch uncertainly as I position myself between your legs. I put my fingers between my own legs and get some cunt juice to lubricate your dick with. Then I lower myself over you, pushing my tits together with my hands, letting one big breast fall free so I can put your rigid cock in place between those great swinging bells. I push my boobs together around the rod of your cock. 

I do have good-sized breasts and they make a great submarine sandwich with your jumbo sausage cuddled up between the two of them. You start swearing with excitement at the sight, never mind the sensation of being pressed in between the soft sweet bags of flesh that are my breasts. I begin tit-fucking your cock, easing my boobs down to brush on your bollocks, then up so they are round the sensitive head of your cock. Wow, you must be getting quite the buzz off your cock's head pushing between my juice-slicked soft breasts. You're tensing up, your tied hands gripping into fists, your buttocks clenching, you're close to cumming ...! So I stop and let my boobs fall away from the massive boner which by now must be torturing you with need to release. 

You throw your head back in the pillows with a howl of protest. 

OK, OK, LOL. It's time for the real deal now, my fuck-toy, my pleasure-playground. To your relief, I'm reaching for a condom, the end is clearly in view and your eyes gleam to realise it won't be in my mouth or between my bountiful breasts but deep up in my dark warm wet cunt, where the best dreams of the best women end. 

Pinching the tip of the condom, I place it on your stiff throbbing Johnson and roll it slowly down. I make sure I caress your cock as I cover it with feather-light strokes. When I get down to the base, I have a good play about with your bollocks, fondling them with my little fingers, pressing on the erogenous spot to make you grunt and pant. (I had planned to suck on them too but I can see the game-plan has gone far enough already.) 

"Let me suck your pussy some more," you beg. I know you want me to cum with you so you can see my face bunch up with ecstasy, hear me scream and feel my cunt muscles clench your cock to pump the milky cum out of it. 

"No no, you are my fuck-toy today," I laugh. I kneel over you and position the head of your cock against my soft hot pussy. I want to see your face bunch up with ecstasy and hear you scream. I want to consciously savour and enjoy your cumming. It's going to be a big one. I'm giggling with excitement. 

"Now I'm going to fuck you to Christmas!" I say. "You fucking bastard! Fucking cum a fountain for me, or there'll have to be a second cumming!" 

"Oh God, oh Jesus!" you groan, without intending to piously honour my awful pun. 

I'm pretty wet and horny myself by now, with all the mucking about and tongue-fucking and the excitement of having you at my merciful pleasure. I plunge down on your rigid hard dick, my slick strong wet muscles pressing you so that you howl with joy. 

"Fucking cum for me, fucking bastard!" I shout. I ride you hard and fast. My breasts are bouncing, I'm bouncing on you, my cunt muscles slickly pressing up and down around your cock. You shout out and jerk your lean hips hard up to me, strain up towards me so hard that you nearly tear the cotton kimono belts. 

Grunting, you jerk upwards a couple more times as the massive orgasm I have built up in you ejaculates. I sit astride you, with a big grin on my face, rocking on you to help press out the juice. 

I put a hand down to hold the condom in place, ease myself off you and toss the full rubber aside. When I untie your wrists, you wrap your arms about me and we snug down, our sweating bodies pressed close in the rising morning light. 

Soon you're asleep again, with me wrapped tightly in your arms. I snug close in your embrace, wondering idly what you're dreaming.



Bottom-Slayer: 1st Bottom Slain



Bottom-Slayer: 1st Bottom Slain

Summary: A black stud learns white boys are great bottoms.

Note: A special thanks goes to Estragon for editing my work and for providing assistance in a crucial scene in the story.

Note 2: Of course, all participants are 18 years old!

*

BOTTOM-SLAYER: 1st Bottom Slain

PROLOGUE: 

Now let's get something straight (pardon the pun). I love girls. I love looking at them; I love their lips wrapped around my cock; and I love the feeling of my cock buried deep in their tight pussies or round asses. But I still get a major thrill from taking a straight man and making him a cocksucking faggot and bottom loving homo. Philosophically, I am not gay. I have never sucked a cock or taken a cock in my ass...although I have fucked many, many men. My cock doesn't see a distinction between a male mouth and a female mouth: both are capable of being great cocksuckers. My cock also doesn't care if it is buried in a woman's pussy or buried deep inside a man's ass, or as I insist on calling it, his man-pussy. 

Now getting a woman on her knees is rather easy and fun as well, but getting some straight man who has never even considered being with a man, on his knees is for some reason my biggest turn-on. 

There are many reasons for this. Firstly, being a faggot is still considered by many as wrong, even though being a dyke is considered ok. So the whole taboo thing is fun.

Secondly, I have learned from experience that men are better cocksuckers than women. Just like I assume dykes ate better pussy pleasers than men. The reason is obvious: same sex lovers are playing with the same delicate and complicated equipment. 

Thirdly, the utter humiliation and, yet, lust in a man's eyes, when he finally succumbs to me is just exhilarating. 

Fourthly, the thrill of making a straight man my personal fuck-toy is the greatest feeling ever. 

Lastly, once you have topped a straight man, he is addicted to you and a reliable cum depositary forever. I have dozens of bottoms scattered throughout America and even a few in other countries that are always available whenever I am there.

As for me, I am 6'4, 240 pounds of pure muscle, and have a nine-inch cock. I also should note I am black as night which also seems to play in my favour. For white girls, I am the forbidden chocolate they crave and once they get a taste they are addicted. Every white girl is curious if the legend of the big black cock is true...which for me it is. For white men, I am the powerful figure they can never live up to. I have never had a problem getting laid since I was a teenager, and playing professional football, although only briefly, (a knee injury ended my career prematurely) meant I had pussy pretty much fall in my lap without any effort at all...and also gave me many opportunities to top some faggot-to-be.

MY FIRST CONQUEST: PREP BOY

My first time was an accident!

I was in high school, grade 12, and eighteen years old when I first topped a guy. I was helping out with prom decorations as a favour to my girlfriend of the moment, a cheerleader with big tits and a ferocious sexual appetite, when it happened. 

By ten that night there were only three of us still finishing set-up when my girlfriend's mom called, insisting she get home and get a good sleep for tomorrow's prom. I was pretty disappointed because I had expected to release a load in her before dropping her off. 

Eric, our school President and the biggest prep there was, offered to give me a ride home. I reluctantly agreed when my girlfriend pleaded I stay and finish the last few decorations...promising me she would make it worth my while tomorrow...as she whispered in my ear, "I have one more hole to give you."

My cock immediately grew at the thought of anal sex. As my girlfriend wandered away, I adjusted my erect cock and as I looked at Eric he quickly looked away, as if ashamed to see me catch him looking at the bulging package in my pants. I joked, "Fuck, Karen is such a tease. I was sure I was getting a blowjob at the very least tonight."

He didn't respond, and continued working on the last of the decorations. I don't know why or how I knew, but I just did. I have come to call it my Bottom Sense: my keen ability to sense when a guy is gay curious, even if he doesn't know yet. Eric was the most popular non-jock white kid in our school. I don't know how I knew, but I was instantly confident I could have him sucking me off by night's end.

I finished helping him with the last of the decorations. I climbed the ladder while he spotted for me. On my way down the ladder, I stopped intentionally when my still hard cock was at his eye level. As I expected, he didn't immediately look away and I asked, cocky, like I would with a chick I was attempting to get in bed, "Like what you see?" I adjusted my cock again inside my pants.

"What?" he replied, pretending I hadn't caught him taking a long look at my bulge in my pants.

I got off the ladder and went to one of the mannequins that were part of the decorations (I still have no idea why the decoration committee had mannequins). I grabbed a long blonde wig and suggested we get out of here.

Once in the car, I handed him the wig. Eric looked at me, confused.

"Put it on," I ordered, with just a hint of authority.

"W-w-why?" he stuttered.

Going for broke, I answered, "Because I want you to look like a chick when you are sucking my big cock."

His eyes went big and he defended himself, "I am not gay."

I smiled, pulling my big nine-inch black snake out from its restrictive prison, "My cock doesn't care if you are gay, straight or bi. But it does expect you to suck it like you know you want to."

He stammered, unable to take his eyes off my long impressive erection, "B-b-but...."

"No buts, Erica," I interrupted, giving him a new name, creating a new persona for him. One I believed would help him overcome his stereotypical male reputation and succumb to his real desire: to be a faggot. Again, I don't know how I knew, but I was sure I was right. I finished by demanding, "Now put the wig on, Erica, and suck my cock."

He looked so nervous, yet also excited, I assume, to finally do something he had craved for a long time. He put on the wig, his hands trembling slightly. I purred, "Good girl, Erica. When you have your wig on Eric ceases to exist and Erica, your slutty cocksucking alter ego, comes fully alive."

This seemed to be the push he needed and he slowly leaned over and down towards my cock. He stopped, his head just above my lap. Needing the final push to become a faggot, I pushed his head gently onto my waiting cock. His mouth was warm and he surprised me by worshipping my cock. He used his tongue and swirled around my cock-head. I moaned, "That's it, Erica. Your pretty mouth feels so good on my big hard cock." 

This seemed to help him as he began to slowly take more of my cock in his mouth. He got about half my cock in his mouth and after a tentative start began bobbing up and down on my cock. Watching the prep suck my cock was incredibly hot and the thrill of making him suck me was exhilarating. I moaned, pushing him further down the road of cocksucking, "Keep sucking Erica, I am going to shoot my hot seed down your throat."

There was a brief pause, I assumed as he realized what was soon going to happen, before he resumed cocksucking and actually picked up the pace.

A few more minutes of the faggot's eager mouth and I was ready to shoot my load. I groaned a warning, "Don't you spill any of my cum, faggot." It was the first time I had verbally degraded him and it only seemed to turn him on as he sped up the pace just as I coated his throat with my cum. I noticed a slight gagging sound, but the faggot somehow obeyed and swallowed all my seed. He continued to move up and down on my cock, although slower, well after I was spent. I could tell he had no idea what to do next, so he just continued his subservient act. 

I finally said, "Drive me home, faggot."

He quickly sat back up, his bright red cheeks a clear symbol of his humiliation at what he had just done, and he started driving, never once looking my way.

I asked, curious, although I was pretty sure I knew the answer already, "Have you sucked cock before, faggot?"

He shook his head no.

"Why did you suck my cock, faggot?"

He whispered, "Please don't call me faggot."

"But you are one, are you not?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Really, you just sucked my cock and swallowed my cum. I am pretty sure that makes you a faggot," I concluded.

"I have a girlfriend," he countered.

"So?" 

"So I am not gay," he argued, still refusing to look at me.

We arrived at my house and I decided to let it go and closed with, "For the record, you gave a better blow job your first time than Karen ever has." His face went red from the compliment and I thought I saw a small smile, but it quickly disappeared. I added, "So here is the deal. If you decide you are straight, we will pretend this never happened and I promise I will never mention it again. On the other hand, if you decide you are a faggot, which you are Erica, then I will be more than willing to use your cocksucking mouth as a place to shoot my wad. I usually cum two or three times a day, so I almost always have a load ready to deposit."

I put my cock away and opened the door, adding one last biting shot, "Thanks for the ride, cocksucker."

I left him alone to deal with what he had done, pretty confident that I had a new mouth to fuck when I needed one. 

*****

Next day was prom and I eagerly looked forward to Karen's promise of some anal sex. The school day dragged by like they always do. It finally ended and Karen went with her friends to get all dolled up. I was just leaving my locker when I saw Eric coming another way. A slight smile curved up on my face as I anticipated his submission to me. He looked up at me and seemed genuinely surprised to see me. His face went beet red and his facial expression portrayed his shame as well.

I greeted him. "Hey, Eric."

He looked away a bit, avoiding eye contact, "Hey, Jim."

I asked, giving him a chance to admit the truth, knowing he was way too shy to bring it up, "So have you had time to consider my proposal?"

He didn't answer immediately, so I just shrugged and walked away. I wanted him to have to say it, to admit it. I had walked less then fifteen feet when he called out, "Jim, wait."

I suppressed a smile and turned around. He walked over to me as timid as a mouse. "I want to do it again."

I said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he answered, actually making eye contact. 

"Well, I happen to have the package you need here with me," I answered slyly, as another student passed by, completely oblivious that his School President was submitting to me as my personal cocksucker. "Is there a place we can go?"

He looked around and said, "Follow me."

I did and he led me to a small storage room in the back of the gym I didn't even know existed. It was full of props, candy, costumes and labelled boxes. He closed the door and locked it.

Deciding to not waste time, I ordered, "On your knees, faggot."

He quickly obeyed like the submissive faggot I was sure he was. 

"Now, I just want to make this clear. The first blowjob had no consequences; it was just me shooting my load in your curious mouth. But now the second load comes with strings attached," I revealed, unbuckling my pants.

His eyes went big, although I was unsure if it was excitement because I was pulling out my big black cock, or nervousness as I prepared to explain the way it was going to be. 

When he didn't respond, I tapped my fully erect cock on his lips and asked, "So have you accepted the reality that you are my faggot?"

He whispered, "No."

"No, you are not a faggot?" I asked.

"I like girls too," he defended.

"So you are just my faggot?" I clarified.

"I guess," he reluctantly accepted.

"Just a faggot for my big black cock?" I pushed.

"Yes," he admitted, staring at my cock. He was transfixed by my cock, his transformation from popular school leader to white cocksucker faggot about to occur.

"Just so you understand, as soon as your faggot lips wrap around my cock you become my personal faggot."

"W-w-what?" he stammered, looking up from his submissive position. 

"The first taste was free, the second one makes you my faggot, my personal cocksucker." I made it simple for him. 

He looked at me confused, clearly trying to understand the implications of my last words.

I clarified my conditions, "Simply put, faggot, you will be my back-up cocksucker. If I call you, you get your fairy ass to me as soon as you can. "

"Oh," he uttered, clarity of consequence suddenly hitting him.

I rubbed my cock on his lips, making the temptation to please me harder to resist. I offered my cock to him, "Become my faggot, Eric. We both know you want to."

He looked up, "And no one will know?"

Knowing he was mine, I gave him the comfort he needed. "I won't tell anyone."

Suddenly, he opened his mouth and took my cock between his lips. My smile broadened, "Good girl, you will make a very good little faggot, won't you?" He moaned what I assumed was a yes, but I wanted him to say it, to acknowledge it to me. "I will only ask you this one more time, are you a faggot?"

He looked up, taking my cock out of his mouth, "Yes, I am your faggot."

"My white cocksucker."

"Yes, your white cocksucker," he repeated and surprised me when he added, "I love your big hard black cock." He took my stiff rod back in his mouth and began a slow simmering blowjob. It was easily the best blow-job I had ever received; unlike the girls who have blown me, he seemed to worship my cock. Also, unlike most chicks, he didn't whine about me being too big or that his jaw was sore. He just kept a steady rhythm. Feeling my balls beginning to bubble, I decided to mark my property the best way possible, a facial. Once I was close, I pulled out and began pumping my cock with my fist. I ordered, "Beg for my cum, faggot."

Caught in the moment and clearly horny from his naughty taboo act of submission, he begged rather convincingly for my cum. "I need your cum. Spray your cum all over your faggot's face."

I obliged, almost simultaneously exploding gob after gob of my cum onto my faggot's face. Insatiable, my cum-hungry faggot, my cum all over his face, took my cock back into his mouth. I reached for my phone deciding to capture this moment forever and demanded, "Smile, faggot,"

He looked up and I snapped a picture with my cock still in his mouth and cum on his nose, forehead and hair. His eyes went big, clearly mortified by having photographic evidence of his faggot submission. I made matters worse when I ordered, "Now one more photo to commemorate your submission to me."

"Please don't!" he pleaded.

"This is just for me, faggot," I promised. "Now smile."

Defeated, he smiled weakly, and I snapped a second picture, a tradition I have continued to this day, a faggot's first facial. I complimented, "You look very good with my cum all over your face."

He looked down, ashamed at what he had just did. I pointed to the floor, "You missed some."

As anticipated, the cum-craving faggot, leaned down and scooped my cum with his finger and put it in his mouth. I smiled, "You love my cum, don't you, faggot?"

Although his red cheeks displayed his burning humiliation, he answered, "Yes."

"You love my cock, don't you?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"You crave more of my cum, don't you?"

"Yes," he admitted. 

"I expect you to find time for some of my cum during prom, understand?"

He stammered, clearly unsure how to make it happen, "O-o-ok."

"We already have a location," I pointed out, pulling my pants up. "See you tonight," I said, leaving him alone, still on his knees and my cum beginning to dry on his face.

.....

Karen looked radiant and I looked forward to deflowering her ass, but first I planned to shoot a second load down my faggot's throat, figuring that would make my ass-fucking session with Karen last longer.

Around ten, the thought of another blow job had me erect and I scanned the room for Eric. He was talking to our Principal while holding his girlfriend's hand. I walked over to them and Eric's face went ghostly white. Eric covered really well though, the first hints of the political quick-thinking he would use later as a Congressman. "Jim, good timing, I need someone to come give me a hand with grabbing the back-up speakers."

Principal Frederickson explained, "The left speaker just died on us."

"Well, I am always willing to help Eric out," I smiled, certain that only Eric and I understood the real meaning of my assistance. 

I followed Eric to the back room and was surprised by the no longer shy faggot. He dropped to his knees the second we were alone and began to unbuckle my pants as he explained, "We only have a few minutes before Sally-Ann will come looking for me."

My cock now out, he devoured it and began sucking it like a nasty porn star. He took more of my cock this time and bobbed on my cock with reckless abandon. He surprised me when he pulled his cock out and began pumping his cock while pleasuring me. The faggot was getting turned on sucking me off. I moaned, "That's it faggot. You love my big black cock. You crave my cum. You need it."

Whimpers of pleasure were muffled by my cock. Getting close, I asked, "Does my faggot want to swallow my cum?"

More moans that implied yes and I grabbed his head and began to fuck his face. I was merciless as I used his mouth for my own pleasure. To his credit, he took my cock without gagging and was rewarded with a hot stream of my cum coating his throat. Once I was spent, I pulled out and watched amused as my horny faggot fell onto his ass and shamefully masturbated himself. Surprising me, he begged, "Tell me what I am Master."

The word Master was surprising so was the revelation that bring degraded turned him on. I obliged him. "You are a faggot for black cock. A cocksucker whose main purpose is to please his Master. A sissy who probably would love to be bent over and taken from behind, pleasing me with your man-cunt. You'd like that wouldn't you, faggot? My big black cock buried in your skinny white ass?"

Pumping furiously on his small cock, he moaned, "Yes, Master, my ass is yours to fuck. Oh god, oh god, oh-oh-ohhhhhhhhh." He sprayed his cum all over himself.

Amused, I was just about to speak when there was a knock on the door, "Are you in there, Eric?"

Eric quickly shifted from orgasm mode to crisis mode in a heartbeat, another hint of the politician he would one day be. Pulling up his pants, his cum covered up, he pointed to the corner, "Please go and grab the extra speaker."

I did as he went and opened the door.

"What is taking you so long? They are crowning prom king and queen on five minutes," an overly dramatic Sally-Ann said frantically.

I picked up the speaker and returned to them, "Go, you two lovers, I'll get this speaker to the gym."

"Thanks, Jim," Sally-Ann said, her sweet and sexy smile spreading as she grabbed Eric's hand. 

Eric looked back with a look of 'that was close' and disappeared with his clueless girlfriend and future wife.

That night, I did get Karen's anal cherry, and Eric and Sally-Ann won prom king and queen, or as I secretly called it, 'queer and queen'.

A week later I took Eric's as well. After filling his mouth with cum daily, I asked, "So what are your plans this weekend?"

"Some scholarship stuff, but my parents are gone all weekend."

"Reeeeaally," I contemplated, as I pulled up my pants.

He answered, realizing my intent, "but Sally-Ann and I have a date for tomorrow night."

"Cancel it," I demanded, "It is time for you to get your ass fucked."




Bottom-Slayer: 1st Bottom Slain



"But..." he began.

"But nothing, do as you're told, faggot!" I ordered. "Unless you don't want my cock anymore."

Realizing my threat, he sighed, "OK, I will get out of my date."

"Good girl," I responded, which I knew he hated. 

"I expect you to make me supper and," I paused, deciding to push him further, "I expect you dressed completely as a girl."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I want you in a dress, wearing a bra, panties, your wig, make-up and stockings, not pantyhose, stockings." 

"Oh," he answered, clearly uncomfortable with this condition.

"Use your Mom's clothing or whatever you need to do, but I want you looking pretty for me. Tomorrow night you are not Eric, you are Erica. Is that understood?"

"Yes," he answered, reluctantly.

I left him and smirked, knowing that tomorrow I would be fucking his ass.

*****

I arrived half an hour late and was shocked by what I saw when the door opened. Eric ceased to exist and was replaced by the shockingly cute Erica. He wore a red dress, black stockings, blonde wig, made-up like a chick getting ready for a date.

Once the door was closed, I ordered, "Erica, get on your knees and have your appetizer."

He dropped instantly and pulled out my cock and began sucking. The smell of roast beef filled the room and I enjoyed yet another blowjob from my faggot. Like every other time, he bobbed back and forth now taking two-thirds of my cock in his mouth with relative ease. He was going rather slowly, savouring my big meat, until I demanded, "Hurry up, faggot, I am hungry."

Like I stepped on the gas, he quickly shifted gears and sucked my cock like a horny slut. After two or three more minutes of fast-paced pleasure, I deposited a load inside my personal sex-toy and walked to the kitchen, leaving him on his knees.

He quickly stood up and followed me into the kitchen. The table was set for two, with wine already poured. I was impressed. He offered, "Take a seat, Master, while I get supper served."

I sat down and waited as he brought out the meal. He was an excellent hostess and cooked a delicious meal. 

Once done, I led him up to his parents' bedroom, "Bend over, Erica."

He obeyed, bending over his parents' bed.

I lifted up his dress and pulled down his panties and, after lubing my cock generously, I slid my cock, centimetre by centimetre, spreading, delving, ravaging and finally conquering his quivering bowel. A variety of sounds escaped my faggot's lips: sobs, whimpers, and eventually moans as I tore into his no longer virgin ass. He was mine. 

Once in a steady rhythm in his tight ass, I asked, "How do you like my big black cock in your ass, Erica?"

"G-g-good," he moaned, the original pain finally subsiding and being replaced with a new pleasure.

"You like being fucked in your ass?" I questioned.

"Yes," he moaned, holding onto his parents' sheets as I thrust into him hard, buried my long shaft inside him.

"You have a fucking tight little cunt, Erica," I moaned, "tighter than any girl I have fucked." His moans increased as he clearly began to enjoy his first ass-fucking. I ordered, "Beg for me to cum in your pussy, princess."

He moaned, obeying instantly, "Oh yes, fuck my cunt, shoot your seed in my pussy, I'm your slut."

I pumped till I dumped, and fired a hot load into his intestinal fortitude. He quivered as my cum filled him and once I pulled out I ordered, "Jerk off, faggot, come for me."

He instantly fell to his knees and pumped his fully erect small cock furiously, clearly horny from his utter submission to me.

Smiling, I shoved my still erect cock in his mouth and said, "Happy Fag day, Erica." He sucked my cock while pumping his cock with his fist eventually coming all over himself and his mother's dress. He continued sucking my cock for half an hour, all the while my cum slowly slid out of his ass. Finally, close to shooting my second load, I pulled out and sprayed my jizz all over his pretty face. I ordered, "Don't move, princess."

I quickly pulled my phone out of my pocket and took a picture of his cum covered face in his mother's dress and blonde wig. 

Mortified, he begged, "Please don't take pictures of me."

I smiled, "These are just for my own collection, princess. Now bend back over, I want to take a picture of your pretty cum leaking pussy."

He reluctantly obeyed and I got a couple of shots of his stocking clad legs and white ass with my cum still leaking out. I do come buckets with my first load of the day. 

Completely spent and having a late night date with Karen, I got dressed and said, "I expect you to wear thigh highs to school under your pants, princess."

"Really?" he asked.

"Yes, I want my princess dressed to please." Before he could respond, I walked out of his parents' bedroom and headed for my heterosexual date.

On Monday, as expected, he had thigh highs on under his jeans and continues to wear them under his suit to this day.

I used his mouth and ass the remainder of the school year, but summer came and he went to Washington for some sort of internship. I still fuck his mouth and ass on occasion, but mostly I have used his political influence to assist me when needed.

Yet, the brief taste of dominating a straight guy and making him my eager faggot was thrilling, and it started a pastime that I have to this day and now has became an obsession. That summer included two more bottom-slayings: Karen's brother in college and Karen's old school dad...but that is another story.

My name is Jim and I am a bottom-slayer.

THE END....for now...



Bottom Space



I stood in front of my upstairs bathroom’s full-length mirror, turning this way and that trying to get a clear view of the dozens of red marks and welts that covered my asscheeks, upper thighs and shoulders.

This was an entirely new experience for me. There were in fact a string of entirely new experiences in my sex life lately. But how I, who had always been dominant, a top man and a sadist, had ended up on my hands and knees on Sioban’s carpet, trying to hold myself still while she striped my ass with a wicked, rubber quirt, a deadly cane and a heavy leather flogger.

Hot tears had flowed down my usually calm face and I had hurtled forward onto the carpet when the one particularly hard stroke had landed. Sioban had curled up behind me, her naked body and lush breasts pressed against my burning body.

She whispered in my ear.

“Get up, Sean. There’s only a little more of this”.

“Yes, Sioban” I murmured and had somehow pulled myself back up onto my knees and elbows to await the next blow.

The next five strokes had been far the worst. She felt the sadist in her rising up, she would later tell me and had reveled in the feeling. Those were certainly 2 or 3 of the marks that I was presently staring at in amazement.

Sioban and I had met 6 or 7 weeks earlier at an S/M play party slash picnic in August. I had come to the party alone and had no preconceived ideas about playing. I had seen Sioban dressed in pure slut fetishware and sitting alone on a lawn chair. I approached. We made some small talk. I started by asking her if she’d like to try out my new mahogany spanking horse. 

Small talk at an S/M play party is not small talk anywhere else. In fact, many people do years of therapy before they can manage the truth telling and naked reality of two BDSM players negotiating for their first scene.

Sioban had tentatively agreed and we were starting the negotiation process - what one likes and what one doesn’t, what the persons, usually the bottoms, limits were, when two arms had wrapped around my head and neck and large soft breasts had pressed against my head.

“Are you going to play with this guy Sioban?” I heard a warm familiar voice from behind me.

It was Donnatella, a female domme friend of mine and one of the co-sponsors of the party, a wonderful woman and a voice in the lifestyle. 

“This guy” she continued “I love this guy! A wonderful top and a wonderful guy. You’ll be lucky to play with him.”

“Thank you Donnatella” I said. “You look especially beautiful tonight.”



With a recommendation like that Sioban and I soon found ourselves wending our way through the crowds to the basement dungeon where my horse awaited. I followed her up the stairs and through the house admiring her shapely ass and legs. This was her first public play party and she was nervous she said. Relax, I told her, you’re in good hands.

And we did play; a very mild scene but pleasant enough that we exchanged email addresses before we went out separate ways at the end of the evening.

And after some heated email correspondence and some wonderful and lengthy phone calls we met. Ate Sushi. Went back to my place to play. Life was good. We were intensely happy. Both of us, I thought.

Soon we were doing lots of things together. Dinners, hikes, movies and pool. And play. Always with me as the top. I thought that our scenes had gone well but apparently she did not. I was too tentative she said one night. I worried too much about her and fussed too much. I should “take her by the hair and make her do things.”

But when we tried that we failed as well. That failed scene ended our Play together for awhile but we remained very close friends. We would play pool together or hike with her dogs, stay up late talking about any and everything. We kissed, hugged and occasionally even had vanilla sex but that wasn’t the focus of our relationship. Besides, she had another Dom who she had played with and was Playing with again. He seemed to push all of her buttons and I suffered frequent bouts of jealousy. Despite our problems, Sioban and I remained extraordinarily close, often talking on the phone until we were both so sleepy we could barely hang up.

I loved her, she loved her Dom and my tears flowed on a regular basis. But I continued to see her, her friendship even more precious to me, as she grew ever closer to her Dom. 

We had spent a weeknight together - not a very common event and we hadn’t slept well. At coffee the next morning I felt her pulling away as she sometimes did. We went out separate ways. For some reason - lack of sleep probably - that day was particularly awful and painful. I had to go to the john twice during the day to cry. My emotions were all messed up but I tried to hang on - thinking of all the wonderful and amazing things that we had done together.

When I got home from work, I was still all emotionally screwed up. I sat down to answer my email and I just started typing a letter to Sioban. The words “I want to bottom for you on Saturday” came out.

We had joked about the idea - after 10 years in the scene I had never bottomed for anyone. I trusted Sioban so much and I wasn’t getting the cosmic connection from our Dom play or from our vanilla sex. I wanted this I said, I needed to FEEL this, I said.

I wrote her not to keep me waiting. She didn’t. Within hours I had email from her. I was a little disappointed when I read it. We’ll see, she said. Let’s talk about it on Saturday because we both might want to change our minds, she said.

We had made plans to hike and eat dinner at her place but it had been a tough week and after a lovely lunch and a beer Sioban said, “Let’s take a nap - 45 minutes or an hour”

“Do you mean ‘Nap’? Sioban, or nap?”



“Just come and lie down with me for awhile”. She took me by the hand. It would have been foolish and or impossible to refuse. 

We talked. We kissed. We laughed. We didn’t sleep but it was too sweet for words. We talked fearlessly. We cried. We confessed to each other, a thousand imaginary ways that we each thought we had hurt one another. We kissed. We cried. We didn’t talk about my bottoming for her that evening.

After our ‘nap’, I worked on her apartment for awhile, installing several new “attachment points” in her bedroom. At some point recently, I had stopped worrying that it was her Dom who was getting all the use of the things I did for her. I loved her and I tried, in my way, to make her life better.

We decided to eat a quick supper and see the early movie. We showered together as we always did, washing each other, shaving (her pubes always bare), kissing and laughing. We didn’t talk about my proposition. 

After walking the dogs, we headed out. At the last minute I went back to my toybag and grabbed the handcuffs I’d brought. Just in case. Maybe I would turn the tables and try to “grab her hair and make her do it”. Maybe she would grab mine, as short as it is. We changed out minds on the way to the theater. We played pool. Laughed. Had one drink. Did I mention that we played pool horribly? So awful. Two or three ugly games of 8-ball and we HAD to leave.

As we walked to the car, arm in arm, I know that we could both feel the electricity building.

Sioban had driven. We sat in the car quietly for a moment.

“So…” I started.

“I guess we should negotiate” Sioban said.

“We really don’t need to” I said. “I know how to stop if it gets to be too much”.

“I’ll be cruel,” Sioban said.

“I’m expecting you to be” I said bravely and leaned over to kiss her.

We were uncharacteristically quiet on the ride back to her apartment. In the parking lot we held each other’s hands. Sioban kissed me.

“Are you ready?” She asked.

“Ready” I said. “Oh yeah, how should I address you?”

“Can you say my name with respect?”

“Of course, Sioban” I said.





“Then do that” she said. “Damn, I wish I’d brought the handcuffs.”

“I did” I laughed and reached into my jacket pocket and handed her the silver handcuffs.

“Do you have the key?” she asked as she took the cuffs from me.

“Of course, Sioban” I said.

After we had stepped into her apartment, I knew the scene had begun. Claire grabbed me by the collar and pushed me down to my knees. Using my leather jacket to bind my arms behind me, she clicked the handcuffs onto my wrists.

“You’re a dangerous man, Sean and I think you could overcome these handcuffs and overpower me. You’re not going to try that, are you Sean?”

“No, Sioban” I said, as submissively as I could manage.

“I’m going to take you to the bedroom and warm you up and then we’re coming back out here for the pain portion of the evening.” She pulled me to my feet and with a hand between my shoulder blades, pushed me toward the bedroom.

I knelt on her bedroom floor while she readied the toys she would use to dominate and punish me.

“Be patient” she said, “I’m going to have to move things back and forth. It’s nearly eleven and we can’t be waking Mrs. Sterling again, now can we?”

Minutes later, I was stripped and chained to one of the hooks that I had installed earlier.

“I’m going to warm up your back and then turn you around and warm up your front. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sioban.”

Her warm-up was not too severe: lashes with several of the floggers culminating with the punch of the heavy leather flogger, interspersed with the cat - pure sadism as she made sure the knotted ends “wrapped”. Sioban described the welts and bruises these “wraps” would make and promised that they would be the least of the marks that I would leave here with.

“Warmed up” to Sioban’s satisfaction, I was tied spread-eagled on my back on the living room floor, my arms and legs stretched tight, no gag or blindfold offered.





I heard the clothespins only seconds before the first one bit into my left earlobe. My armpit and several across my chest next followed my neck to my nipple. A blue plastic hemostat was placed there. I moaned and bit my lip trying in vain to turn the pain into…anything else. I thought to breathe down in the way my Kung Fu Master had taught me, evening my breaths. The assault of clothespins continued down my belly, the inside of my thighs and several of my toes…the pain there was ten times more intense than even…well, anywhere but there - six on my balls and cock then the corresponding toes, fingers, earlobes on my right side. The pain was very intense, more than I had previously imagined that clothespins could contain. I was moaning and try as I might; I could not get my breathing under control.

I cried out “Jesus Christ. The little mother fuckers hurt!”

She played the clothespins. The pain was everywhere and white hot. I could not see how it was connected any way, shape or form to pleasure, even though I had witnessed and inspired and absorbed pain’s effects, erotic and otherwise, many times.

Sioban began to remove the clamp and clips. What I had thought was a threshold of pain was crossed and recrossed again and again. I was shaking and sobbing by the time she removed the clips from my groin and sadistically flicked at the “blue bastards” on my tiny, even for a man, nipples.

When the blue bastards were finally off I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a fetal position, but Sioban had other ideas.

“Be still,” she said roughly. “I don’t want to get wax on my rug.”

“Oh, Jesus, Sioban” I moaned. I was still shaking. My eyes still full of tears.

“Look at me!” she said.

I looked up at her beautiful face, into her beautiful multi-colored eyes that I had loved to get lost in.

Sioban smiled cruelly, “Be still”.

The candle only 6 or 8 inches from my chest, my stomach, my arms, my groin. Liquid fire at that altitude. Twenty drops turned to fifty. I was moaning steadily and shaking again by the time she stopped and of course started up this time with my own switchblade scraping the wax from me, pulling out chest and belly hairs as she went.

I couldn’t control my breath, the shaking, anything. I was not aroused but I was certainly stimulated, undeniably alive.

She worked around my, just out of my peripheral vision.

My bonds were released, first my arms, then my legs. My hands flew to my aching nipples, then my sore scrotum. I curled up and tried to slow my tears. Sioban placed her lush naked body against me.



“I want to really hurt you now” Sioban whispered in my ear. “I want to introduce you to real pain - the cane and the quirt. I want to make your skinny white ass plaid with my marks”.

“Yes, Sioban.”

“I don’t want to tie you. Will you stay still?”

“I’ll try, Sioban”

“This is a yes or no question!” She barked at me. She was well into her topspace.

“Yes, Sioban. I can stay still”.

“We’ll see about that,” she said. “Up. On your knees and elbows. Ass up!”

The first dozen with the heavy flogger were moving, thudding and not all that painful.

The next 20 or so with the cane were far brighter, the pain explosive and electric.

A heavy rubber slapper was worse yet and my shaking and my tears returned. My breath was coming in erratic gulps but I had yet to even consider safe wording or even asking for mercy - a word just short of “yellow” that we had negotiated before we’d begun.


The first cut of the quirt send me flying forward across the bed, curses pouring from my lips.

Sioban grabbed me by my hair then and pulled me back into position.

“There’s only a little more of the Sean. Don’t disappoint me now. You’ve done very well so far, hold still for these last.

I tried to count in my head but the quirt was like fire - across my back, my ass, my thighs as loud and bright as the cane with more lingering effects. Sioban ran her fingers over the spots where my body was already showing the marks.

“Ten more” she said. “Only ten more. You can do it”.

I said, “No, No, No” as she delivered the strokes, all ten, the last few worse than all the others combined and I was sure I would never breathe again, never stop sobbing, never stand, never sit down.

Sioban rolled me over onto my side took off the bra she’d been wearing while she tortured me and curled up being me and held me. The tenderness of this and her soothing words opened up a flood of emotion and a deluge of tears.

“I’m right here baby,” she said. “Let it go, I’m here to catch you. Go with it. Feel it…”

Sioban turned me over onto my back so that I could look at her while I…what? Laughed? Cried? Both at once for awhile? All the time, she was there…a buoy, an anchor, and a beacon. While I shook and laughed and cried.



As the tremors subsided, I started to feel the welts and weals and bruises. Sioban at some point put ice on my nipples and some of my marks. I had to pee.

“Wow, Sean” Sioban said finally. “You really let go. You were really flying!”

“Was I?” I groaned.

“Oh, yeah” she said. “I thought maybe with your training and all, you wouldn’t be able to let go”.

“But that’s what I came here to do” I croaked.

“Well, you did it, baby!”

“Thanks” I remember saying.

“Thank you!” she said very sincerely. “You were wonderful”.

“You were…very cruel,” I said and a smile passed both of our lips almost simultaneously.

“I was, wasn’t I?” she laughed then but the cruelty had gone from the sound of her laughter.

“Here, let me help you to your feet. Careful”.

I negotiated the bathroom. Leaned against the wall and coaxed the urine flow.

Sioban joined me. “Wanna look at your marks?”

“Sure” I said craning around to see.

She adjusted the mirrors till I could see.

“Sam makes me come in and look at mine” she said. We admired her handiwork together, silently.

“They’re something,” I said. “That rubber quirt is nasty!”

“Yeah. I know”.

“Like lightening,” I said. “Who needs electrical play?”

Back on her crisp clean sheets I was still flying, faintly levitating above the surface. Sioban was lying face down and I had spooned alongside her. I began to pass my left palm over her skin.

Immediately, Sioban started. “Jesus!”





“What’s with your hand? It’s HOT!”

“I don’t know. What do you mean? Hot?”

“Can’t you feel it?” Holy Shit! Like HOT!”

As she said the words, I found that I could indeed feel it…heat energy…fairly pouring out of a 2” circle in the center of my left palm. A roaring orange sun.

“Try it with your other hand” Sioban, ever the scientist suggested.

I did. Neither of us could feel a thing. But the left hand - that was another story! Energy was absolutely pouring out of me and apparently into Sioban.

“That feels so amazing,” she said. “How are you doing that?”

“Damned if I know. It is amazing! I can feel my hand burning from the inside. Nuclear! Or "Like Stigmata!” I said, laughing.

“My skin is about to have an orgasm”, she announced. Sioban had told me such a thing before so I knew that it could just be true. She moaned as I measured every inch of her back and backside with the roaring furnace in my hand. 

“Turn over” I ordered and Sioban complied.

If anything, the front of her body pulled more energy through my Holy Wound. She moaned and babbled and at one point told me that she was so high that she didn’t want to breathe anymore…I was sure that I would break her concentration and mine when I barked “Don’t even think about that” to her. But the energy flowed and flowed, concentration, intention or not. Another pass of my healing hand over her back and we drifted off to sleep, still spooned together.

I went home after breakfast. Sioban and I didn't see very much of one another for a long while after that night. But amazing things have continued to happen to me and I've continued my 'growth curve'. And slowly but surely she and I have gravitated back towards one another. Dinners at first and then a game or two of pool. It's not everything it once was but it's a good great amount.

We've even Played together…with my girlfriend and with her top and the Play was a rousing success. Although we've kept a distance and kept the over-analysis to a minimum she is and always will be my friend unlike any other. We have worked hard and our efforts have been rewarded.

The world is a more beautiful place with Sioban in it. And life is good.



Bottom, Top or Versatile?



Author's note:

I am not gay and this story is not about gays. It is about men being bisexual and being together. Hence, I have published it in erotic couplings as to me that is what Sam and I had. 

I appreciate that some readers may, however, not wish to read about men having sex together. If that offends you, then stop now.

*****

I was surprised, but not shocked when he slid his arm along the back of my seat in the Porsche 911. I was equally surprised, but still not shocked when he pulled my shoulder as he bent towards me. I was not really all that surprised or shocked even when he kissed me, but I was both surprised and a little shocked at how quickly and enthusiastically I responded.

We were sitting in his car in public car park cut into the woods near to the head office of the company where we both worked. We had met after work and gone for a drink in a pub a few miles away. It was just getting dark.

I was, though, a little shocked and indeed surprised when almost immediately his hand went straight to my crotch. And I was even more surprised and shocked when almost without thinking I reached out and grasped him through his thin, suit trousers. He was hard.

The kiss intensified as he fumbled my belt undone and slid my zip down. He unravelled my full erection from the tail of my shirt and boxers and pulled it out. I tried doing the same to him, but before I could he bent forward and saying.

"God James it is beautiful," he licked the tip of my penis. 

I put my arm round his back and stroked him.

"Just lay back, relax and enjoy," he whispered taking me in his mouth.

I did as he suggested. Loving the feel of his lips and tongue on me, I pulled his shirt from his trousers. I ran my hand up and down his bare back and into his trousers, inside his boxers, onto his buttock and slightly into the start of his crease.

We both said 'fuck' at the same time as a car pulled into the car park with its headlights on and drove towards us. Still with me rearranging my clothes and his shirt hanging out of his trousers we drove off, quickly.

Sam and I worked for an international airline. We were both middle managers someway up from the pond life, but not yet on the gravy train of senior management. As he was in one of the flight planning departments on the ground floor of the corporate HQ and I was in marketing on the eighth, we did not see each often. However, as we had been on several committees together, we knew each other on 'hi, how are you terms?' and we had chatted with our wives present at several company social functions. 

He drove to the company car park and asked the location of my car. He stopped the Porsche next to my car.

"That was a bit close," he said tucking his shirt in. I had made myself respectable on the short drive from the public car park.

"Yes it was," I smiled.

"But you were ok with it weren't you James?" he asked turning and looking into my eyes.

"Yes Sam, it was fine."

"Maybe we could do it again sometime?"

"Sure," I replied feeling myself hardening at the thought.

"But not in a fucking car," he went on adding with a laugh. "Nor even in a car fucking come to that."

I laughed, but said nothing.

"Look Sal's away on a long-haul and won't be back until Saturday, so I am at a loose end most evenings this week, if you are free."

That reminded me that his wife Sally was a senior purser mainly on the long-haul flights and that Sam had been a pilot. Kelly, my wife, ran her own business and was often away and as it happened was in Scotland the next night, Tuesday, although that would make little difference as both of us ran fairly separate lives.

"Oddly, Kelly is in Scotland tomorrow night."

"Wonderful," he said beaming a big smile. "Come to my place James and let me pamper you as you have never been pampered before."

*

I was certainly not gay. I enjoyed straight sex far too much for that. In fact I enjoyed straight sex far too much period. That was one of the reasons why, in addition to a healthy and adventurous sex life with my wife of twenty years, I indulged myself outside my marriage. My indulgence took several forms. Bits on the side that I pulled when travelling, women I met at the gym or elsewhere, the occasional escort and the use of massage parlours. 

I guess what I was after was variety, adventure and something different with sex. I wanted the excitement, exhilaration and the sheer buzz that comes from different experiences and partners.

Kelly and I had no children. That was by choice as we both wanted to have successful careers. Whilst in many ways that had been a good decision, there were some downsides. The main ones being that kids hold a relationship together, they provide a common objective and a mutual love. They are the glue in a relationship. After around fifteen years of marriage, Kelly and I realised that we had no glue. 

After several separations, we came close to a divorce, but chose a different way of coping with our marriage. We agreed on an open relationship. By that we meant that we stayed together as man and wife, but when we wanted we could have other partners. That has enabled me to 'indulge' myself fully outside my marriage as indeed it has Kelly.

About five or so years ago, which was a year or so after we reached that agreement, I started to explore my sexuality.

I had been curious for some time, but had done nothing. 

My first excursion into testing my sexuality came about by chance. 

I had hurt my leg playing five-a-side football and was recommended to a sports therapist. His clinic was at his home. We got on well on my first visit. On my second, when he was massaging the back of my upper leg, I felt myself starting to harden. It was mainly because on a few of the upward sweeps of his hand he went very near to my balls. Then horror of horrors as it was straightening and hardening, he told me to turn over. I hoped that my boxers or the tee shirt I was wearing would hide it, but that was illusory for the bulge was obvious.

Carl smiled and I said.

"Sorry about that," feeling so embarrassed.

"No need it happens now and then."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, magic hands you know."

"Yes they must be."

"They do other magic as well if you are interested."

I got his drift and muttered. 

"I see," I said now feeling even more embarrassed and out of my depth.

"As extras of course," he went as he massaged the front of my leg, far softer than earlier.

"Of course," I replied adding as an afterthought. "How much."

"Just another twenty James."

"Ok," I croaked.

Then he did one of the most erotic things I can ever remember. As I lay on my back on his massage table, with him standing beside me, he took the waist band of my boxers in his hands and slowly rolled them down exposing my full hard on to his gaze.

"Mmmmm, very nice we are enjoying ourselves aren't we?" he smiled running his fingertips along my length as I closed my eyes.

That felt good. It felt very similar to what the girls do in massage parlours before they take you to the happy ending. He poured some oil onto me and the sensation as it dribbled along my cock and onto my balls was fantastic. I gripped the side of the table as he started to rub my length with one hand and cradled my oil soaked balls in the other. It didn't take long for me to be grunting and writhing with pleasure as he made me cum.

Obviously I felt some guilt, but not much. Overall, I was amazed at just how similar I felt with a him masturbating me as I did with a her.

I returned to him and we did the same thing. If anything this time was even better, but I wanted more and different. I scoured the personal ads in newspapers and magazines and found a couple that offered male to male erotic massages. I made an appointment with one and went along.

There was no pretence at anything other than him getting my rocks off. I was naked when he massaged me and he stripped down to a jock strap. He did give me quite a nice straight massage for fifteen minutes or so, but with me laying on my front it slowly became more suggestive. On one upward sweep along my inner thigh, his hand didn't stop the inch or so from my balls that up to then it had. His touch was electric. I grunted and my body jerked. He knew I loved it and he exploited that as fully as I wanted him to. He stroked and squeezed my balls, ran his hands under me onto my blistering hard on, slid his fingers along the crease between my cheeks and pressed right on my anus. Kelly and several other women had been there before with both their tongues and fingers so it was not virgin territory. I was not too concerned, therefore when I felt his fingers slip inside me a little. Turning me over he started wanking me, but unlike the physio he did not use any oil. It didn't take long for me to blast off. In fact I came so quickly that I did not have a chance to take advantage of the clear invitation he was proffering by wearing just his jock strap.

I went back a few weeks later and had a repeat performance. This time I held on longer and this time I did reach for him and this time I did rub his big, semi-hard cock and this time I did, when he pushed himself forward, lick his length, but I did not get him fully hard nor did he cum. 

The next time I went back I really tried getting him fully erect, but to no avail.

A pattern was emerging. I would go weeks without even thinking about anything bi. During that time I would enjoy my wife and my indulgencies, but then a need would develop for more. And that more was some bi action. During the next couple of years I must have visited another three or four masseurs. Each of them offered me their cocks to play with or suck and one I did jack off. Again, though, I wanted more and that is when I found a gay sauna.

I saw it one advertised in a magazine so I googled 'gay saunas London.' I was amazed at how many there were. There was one called Chariots that had several outlets not too far away from where I live in Islington. They also had a good website with numerous photos. I thought that if the actual premises were anywhere near what the photos published, then it would be fine. They were and it was.

Over the next few years I became an infrequent 'regular' at two of their outlets, the one in East London and the other in Shoreditch, which was larger and was my favourite.

Both places had similar layouts and facilities including: sauna and steam room, bar, cinema, with big plastic covered mattresses to lay on as you watch gay movies, dark rooms where you could hardly see but could touch, loads of individual rooms, some with viewing panels, with narrow beds in them, a swimming pool and several jacuzzis.

The form was that you were given a locker key and a couple of towels and you wandered around wrapped in one as you used the facilities. The place was scrupulously clean and everyone seemed so polite and well-behaved. In all the times I went there I didn't see any bad behaviour, drunkenness or rudeness. Most of the guys seemed to be pretty regular and like me, curious. There were some that were overly camp, but most were not and other than the fact that we were all dressed just in towels and sex of one sort or the other was going on all over the place, it could have any gym or men's club.

Obviously most were there to get their rocks off and that was quite easily achieved as pretty much all the guys were up for being touched or touching. The first couple of times I did not do much but gradually I got more into it. So I might be in the sauna and watch a couple of guys with their towels off and stroking or sucking the other's dick. Also I could be sitting there and a guy might get close and then touch me. If I didn't fancy him I could move away and nothing more would happen. If I was ok with him and did not move then soon his hand would slide up my leg and onto my erection. We might just play with each other in the sauna, go to a private room and jerk or suck each other off, or go to the cinema, lay on one of the mattresses take our towels off and play with each other as guys looked on. Having a reasonably lithe and well-formed body and a fair sized manhood hard or soft, I had little trouble attracting attention and found that I quite enjoyed the exhibitionist aspect of lying there being played with in front of an audience.

During this period, I was masturbated, I did that to others and I had massages with happy endings sometimes by hand and occasionally by mouth. I was sucked off by several guys a couple of whom let me cum in their mouth, though that was their choice not mine, although I loved it. I got used to giving head and began to enjoy it. Compared to some who gave me blow jobs, I think I was pretty good, but then Kelly was a magician at oral and I just copied her.

I was asked a few times if I would let someone fuck me, or if I would fuck them, but I demurred. I guess I was frightened more than anything. The first time I was asked, the guy said. 'Are you a bottom or top?' I had no idea what he was talking about, but I soon learned. Oddly, I thought, most did not ask and were content with a hand job or oral or a simulated shag with their or my cock between the tops of the legs.

The Shoreditch place had a swimming pool and I liked doing a few lengths in the nude and then reclining on a lounger without replacing my towel; that often attracted some attention. Also I enjoyed using the big Jacuzzi that was next to the pool. To get into that you had to walk past all the loungers round the pool then up some steps to a small landing, or as I thought of it a stage, There you removed your towel and hung it up before going down the steps into the oblong shaped tub that could probably have seated twenty at a push; usually there was no more than a dozen in it. I tended to go there after a spell in the sauna, where I would have become at least half-erect. I would then walk past the naked guys on the loungers enjoying their stares at my quite obvious bulge until I got to my 'stage.' After looking at the guys in the tub and seeing any I fancied, I would then slowly remove my towel and even more slowly would hang it up. I would then turn towards the tub and 'pose' for a moment or two as I flashed my semi erection for all to see.

I was in the process of doing that last Saturday afternoon. I had just turned towards the tub and was posing with my dick at half-mast when I looked across the pool and saw a work colleague, Sam standing looking at me. He smiled and raised his hand. At first I felt sick at the thought that a colleague knew my secret, but quickly I realised that I knew his too.

Up until that moment, nobody I knew was aware of my bi life. I had not met anyone other than masseurs and guys at the saunas, I had never traded phone numbers and I had not yet been on a 'date.' The only bi sex I had was at massage places and Chariots. Recently, however, I had wondered what it might be like to meet someone for a drink or dinner and then go somewhere and have sex with them.

I didn't see him again, but did worry about it over the weekend.

Mid-morning on the Monday I received a BBM on my company Blackberry. I saw that it was from Sam. It simply said. 'Perhaps we should talk.' I replied. 'Yes, perhaps we should.'

Hence, the drink in the pub that Monday evening, me being surprised, but not shocked in the Porsche, him inviting me tobe pampered the next evening and me arriving at his house at seven-thirty, already sporting a hardeni.

* 

I had wondered how things would go? I had thought of a number of scenarios as to what would happen and had pondered on just what Sam meant by pampering me? I had tried thinking of how he might initiate things, how we would start, how we would undress and what we would do? From my Chariot experiences, I was pretty relaxed about kissing, body to body massage mutual masturbation and oral, but certainly fucking or being fucked. 

Kelly and I both liked anal play, but she did not like penile penetration and I had stopped her when once, a little pissed she had tried pushing her vibrator up my bum. So the big one, as far as far as I was concerned was not on. Well that's probably going a bit far. Although I would not try to persuade someone, or even ask come to that, to let me fuck them, I am pretty sure that in the right circumstances I would do that to them. I had no fear of it and would, I was sure enjoy it, with a condom of course. 

Letting someone have my bum, though, was another matter. I was completely torn on it and had no idea how I would react if 'push really came to shove' over it. Also, what I was not sure about, was whether guys were both bottoms, being fucked, and tops doing it. 

So as I waited for him to open the door into his detached house some ten or so miles from mine, I was confused, worried and full of trepidation. The door opened, but not fully. Sam stayed behind the door and poked his head round it.

"Hi James," he said opening it just enough for me to squeeze past and into the square hallway.

Once inside, I saw why he had not opened the door fully, he was wearing a dark blue, silk, shorty dressing gown. I thought immediately 'That solves two problems, getting started and how would he undress?' 

"Hello Sam, how are you?"

"Good you?" He asked closing the door.

"Great," I said rather nervously as the enormity of what I was doing hit me.

I had been full of bravado all day at work and at home when I had dinner, drank a couple scotches and had got ready for my 'first date.' Now I was on it, though, the bravado vanished and I felt as nervous as hell. It was one thing sneaking off to a gay sauna, but quite another, it seemed to me going to a bloke's house with the clear intent of having sex together.

"Up the stairs," he said leading the way.

We went into a spare room. There were a couple of sweet smelling candles burning and an iPod on the window sill was playing some cool jazz, quietly. It was sparsely furnished with a modern, low double bed that had no bed clothes, but was covered by a number of dark green towels. There was a dressing table with none of the usual stuff on it, but there was some towels, a few bottles, a small bowl with condoms in it, a couple of tubes and two vibrators, one the size of a well hung cock, the other thinner and shorter.

In a different setting, it would have made for a highly romantic atmosphere, in this setting it created one reeking of sex.

"Drink?" He asked.

"Actually I am driving, so I had better not."

Smiling he replied. "Yes James you may be, but when will that be?"

"What?"

"You can stay the night you know, or get a cab?"

"Ok, thank you, I'll have a scotch with water please."

"Right, while I go and get it, would you like a shower? I just had one."

"Yes that would good."

He showed me into the bathroom, explained how to use the shower and left me. I undressed noting that my earlier erection had subsided, presumably through nerves, but the tingling was still there, so I knew it would come back easily.

I showered and dried myself. Wrapping a towel round me I walked back into the bedroom. Sam was there standing by the bed holding two glasses, my whiskey and what looked like a gin and tonic. Putting the glasses down on the dressing table, he turned to me and smiling said.

"Oh James, James, James."

"What?" I asked innocently.

"Why so coy?" He said closing the gap between and putting his fingers into the folds of the towel. "It's not as though I haven't seen it, is it?"

He pulled on the towel, opening it up and exposing my nudity. It was a bit like that first time he saw me at Chariots and I got the same sort of buzz. Dropping the towel on the floor he ran his gaze up and down my bare body. At the same time, he undid his robe and took that off. He was naked as well. He was not erect, but like me there was some strength and movement. He came closer and breathed.




Bottom, Top or Versatile?



"You are awesome James."

He put one arm round my neck and pulled my face towards his. He kissed me, deep, long and passionately. Although, I had rarely kissed guys at Chariots, I was not, like some, averse to it. I enjoy kissing women and this was really no different other than a little rougher on both my face and, of course my chest. I responded with my lips and quite readily let his tongue into my mouth. He pressed his, now, full erection against me, which, of course meant I did the same to him as I was also fully hard. Alternating between squirming our erections together and pressing them into the softness of the other's stomach, we continued the kiss for what seemed an age. Our hands joined in. They ran up and down each other's back, went into both heads of hair and reached down and gripped the other's bum cheeks. He moved his body from mine a tad and slid his hand between us and grasped my cock. He rubbed it gently. I did the same to him 

Sam broke the kiss, moved back a little and whispered. "Do you want a massage before or after?"

"Before or after what?" I asked fearing that he wanted to fuck me.

"Before or after whatever is your pleasure sir," he muttered pushing me down on the bed.

Before we went any further, I felt that I had to tell him.

"Sam, you should know that I don't fuck or be fucked," I blurted out.

"James," he said kneeling beside me. "That doesn't matter a flying fuck, it's this beautiful monster I want." 

Then bending forward, he licked my length before taking me into his mouth. I laid back and enjoyed his mouth working on me. Quickly, I reached the conclusion that he was as good as Kelly.

"Nice?" He asked running one of his hands over my chest. 

"It's great, but I think it is my turn now," I replied pulling myself out and away from him. I pushed him onto his back and knelt beside him with the side of my knee pressing against the side of his chest. I was facing toward his feet as I took him into my mouth. I sucked it and ran it in and out between my lips with the end almost popping out before I plunged it back in so it nestled in my front.

"Oh yes baby, yes, fucking yes, he groaned running his fingers along the crease in my bum. He pressed right on my hole. It felt nice.

I continued working his cock as his hands were all over my bum, balls and dick. I could feel myself getting near.

"Sam, I can't last much longer," I groaned.

"Nor me, so don't," he replied pulling himself out of my mouth.

Holding my cock as I held his he grunted. "Get on top of me."

With both of us holding the other's length I rolled on top of him and we kissed.

"Fuck my hand," he muttered temporarily breaking the kiss, but quickly starting it again.

So laying on top of him, holding his dick as he held mine and we kissed we fucked each other's hand.

"Oh yes James, I'm cumming," he groaned as I felt the warmth of the sticky liquid on my hand just as my cock exploded.

*

We both showered, alone, and he slipped his gown back on and I wrapped a towel round me.

"Indian or Chinese?" He asked as I sipped the scotch I hadn't drunk earlier.

"What?" I asked wondering whether they were slang for some gay practice.

"To eat?"

"I don't mind."

"Let's do Chinese then."

We sat around waiting for the food and then ate that. We chatted away mostly about the company and our colleagues, almost as if nothing had happened, but of course it had and slowly the conversation came round to sex.

"How long you been using Chariots?" He asked.

"On and off a couple of years, I guess."

"Go often?"

"No, not even once a month."

"What just as the fancy takes you?" he asked smiling.

"Yes, I guess so."

"Same as me. I hadn't been there for ages when I saw you."

We chatted on about our bi feelings and experiences. I told him how mine had started with the massage and that I enjoyed the buzz and really thought of sex, purely as sex almost irrespective of whether with a guy or a woman. He agreed with me as he did when I told him that I didn't go around looking at men and fancying them as I did women. Laughing he said.

"So you didn't look at me and fancy me then?"

Laughing back, I said. "Well there are exceptions."

We cleared away the wreckage of the Chinese food and he opened a bottle of red wine.

"Shall we go back to the bedroom?" He asked.

It had been a couple of hours since we had fucked each other's hands and I could tell that I was nearly ready to go again.

Pouring us both large glasses of red wine we laid on the bed and chatted. Initially the topic was about work, but it slowly changed.

"I take it you still have sex with your delicious wife Kelly?" He asked.

"Yes, very much so."

"Has it changed since you have found your bi side James?"

"Not really no, but in some ways I think it's better."

"Yes I find that with Sal." Turning slightly onto his side, Sam looked into my eyes and went on. "Pity the four of us can't get something going isn't it?"

"Mmmmm yes, but Kelly isn't into women at all."

"Neither is Sally. Have you asked Kelly?"

"Yes several times."

"No interest?"

"No and I am not sure what she would think if we did anything. Does Sally know about your bi stuff?"

"Well she knows I have had my moments for when I was on flight crew and before we got together, we had a couple of threesomes."

"What her and two guys?"

"Yes, she enjoys seeing guys together. We still do it now and then."

"Wow."

""Would you like that?"

"What?"

"You, her and me."

"Would she?"

"Yes I expect so, I will ask if you like."

"Let me think about?" I replied.

"Well I can see the idea has at least some appeal," Sam said smiling and putting his hand on the growing mound under my towel.

I turned my head towards him and he leaned forward and kissed me. I kissed him back as I felt his hand fiddling with my towel. It came undone and I had that glorious feeling as he peeled it away and exposed my swollen manhood.

"You really do have an absolutely fucking brilliant cock James, I could easily fall in love with it."

We kissed a lot more and cuddled so we pressed our bodies together. His gown came open and we rubbed our nudities together, cock on cock.

We stopped for a while and had some more wine. Laying side by side, touching and stroking each other, he said.

"Have you had enough time to think James, about Sal and me?"

""Yes, I think so. I would like that."

"I'll see what she says, but you can probably guess what she likes to see most."

"No, what's that?"

"Not to be too blunt, it is me shagging the other bloke, she loves that."

"Oh, I see."

"But you don't do that do you?" He said again turning on his side and placing his face close to mine as he slowly rubbed my cock.

"Well I haven't."

"Have you thought about it?"

"Yes of course."

"So what has stopped you?"

"Several things. Fear of the unknown and the possible pain."

"If you are lubed up properly there won't be any."

"And, of course, it being such an overtly gay thing."

"But, you are not gay James, and being fucked now and then won't make you gay, you know," Sam retorted smiling.

He licked round my lips and cupped my balls. "Mmmmm, these seem nice and full."

"And also," I went on looking meaningfully at him. "I have not been in the appropriate circumstances."

"How do you mean?"

"Well I have only ever been with guys at Chariots."

"Oh I see, so you have not been with someone like this?"

"No, and that's probably the other reason."

"What is?"

Looking right into his eyes I delivered what was my submissive statement, I suppose. "That you don't meet the right sort of guy at gay saunas."

He gripped my cock tighter as he heard that. He kissed me again and said quietly.

"But now James are you saying the circumstances are appropriate and you are with the right guy?"

"Yes Sam, I think I probably am," I replied, just before he kissed me again.

I gripped his cock and loved him licking my neck and moving down onto my chest. He nibbled each of my nipples as he slowly wanked me, before saying.

"So you think you are in the right place and with the right person do you James?"

"Yes," I croaked. "Yes I think I do Sam."

"Then shall we, I mean can I?" He asked gripping me tightly and squashing our chests together.

I was gone then. Although still slightly fearful, my reservations and resistance had pretty much vanished. I had felt for some time that being fucked was probably inevitable and had been waiting for the right time and place. I had to admit to myself that Sam and his house were about as good as it is likely to get.

Looking into his eyes and smiling nervously I replied. "Yes Sam, yes you can, but be careful won't you."

"Of course I will babe. Let me get the lube."

He rolled across the bed, got off and picked up a tube from the dressing table. Returning to beside me he said quietly.

"Turn over and lift that sexy bum up in the air for me baby."

I did as he said and enjoyed the feeling of him spreading the KY jelly between my cheeks and on my hole. He took his time as he slowly edged a finger or two slightly up my anus. That in itself was great.

"Ok James, lay on your back for me."

That surprised me as I had assumed that he would take me doggy fashion.

"How do you mean?" I asked

He got between my legs, opened them wider and lifted them up, one of them going over his shoulder.

"It's easier like this," he told me wiping some lube onto his condom covered cock. I had not seen him put the rubber on, but was pleased that he had for I had forgotten all about safe sex. 

Holding his cock in his hand he pressed the end of it right against my hole. Wiggling it about a bit, I realised that he was gradually opening me up. "Ok James?" He asked.

"Yes, its fine," I grunted enjoying the pressure on the sensitive nerve ends in that crinkled skin round my anus

Looking down and seeing my cock rearing right up my stomach and his slowly sliding up me made me feel a little guilty, but that soon went. It was hurting, but nowhere near as much as I had feared for I hardly felt it going up. The modest pain was around my sphincter. That was being stretched more than it had ever been before and in the opposite way to what was intended. Sam was careful and gentle and edged his way into my bum slowly moving an inch or so and then waiting before going further. When most of it was in me and was, I guess, near to or rubbing against my prostate, the sensations were immense.

"Oh my god," I grunted reaching my hand out. Sam held it and squeezed it.

"Does it hurt?" He asked not moving inside me.

"A little yes," I gasped.

"That will go," he told me making one last push and seeming to have gone in as far as he could.

His cock buried deep in my arse, he held himself perfectly still. He was holding both of my hands and looking down at my face as he went on. "You sure baby, for you feel fucking marvellous?"

As the lube did its job, the stretching pain had almost gone and looking up at Sam and smiling I was able to mutter.

"And you feel marvellous fucking Sam."

He smiled. "That's my bitch. You ready to be fucked now you horny tart."

"Yes, yes I am Sam, fuck me."

He moved my right hand and placed that right on my hard cock. 

"You enjoy that as I enjoy this," Sam said slowly easing his cock down a little and then back in.

"Fuck," slipped out as again I had the tearing sensation on my sphincter.

"Sorry James, it will get better."

Then slowly and carefully he began to fuck me and he was right. The pain was still there, but it combined with the fantastic sensations as his cock stimulated both the sensitive inside of the sphincter and my prostate and was easily bearable.

Presumably seeing the look on my face changing from showing discomfort to pleasure, he smiled.

"Better now?"

"Yes, much," I grunted starting to masturbate myself as he began sliding up and down.

Taking hold of both of my ankles, he pulled my legs further apart and slid the other over his shoulder.

I was now getting a range of the most exquisite emotional and physical sensations from him. I began to enjoy it fully.

"You really are some fuck baby," Sam grunted as he increased the speed of his thrusts into me. 

Since opening my legs further he seemed to be going deeper into me on each inward surge of his hips. This increased the sensations and the pleasure, presumably because the end of his cock was stimulating my prostate. Whatever it was he was certainly taking me nearer and nearer to a climax.

He pulled my legs from his shoulders and pushed them so that the back of my calf muscles was squashed against the back of thighs.

"Hold them apart for me," he muttered.

I did as he asked and watched with huge anticipation as he wrapped his hand round my cock.

"I am so fucking near," he groaned as he started to wank my cock.

The sensations and feelings now were unlike anything I had ever experienced. And that was not simply just the physical aspects of the situation either, for I was being blown away emotionally as well. This included; a degree of guilt, the pleasure of the total wantonness of my position, the adventure of the newness of being fucked, the satisfaction of 'giving' myself to Sam and the way that my submissive needs were being realised. 

"Good Sam, good, cum and make me cum," I moaned as my arse seemed to be on fire and my balls prepared to deliver their load.

As they did that so the enormous physical sensations collided with my emotional explosions and Sam fell forward between my legs, wrapped his arms round me and kissed me, hard and deep. 

"Oh God yes, yes, I'm cumming." He groaned into my mouth. 

That was the final touch and it put me right over the top. My cock in his hand simply exploded and my spunk shot over both of our chests as Sam emptied himself into the condom.

*

My legs were aching from being open and folded up for so long so I was pleased when I could straighten them, although he stayed in me for a few moments. Having softened, Sam eased himself out of me and we lay side by side recovering from our mutual orgasm.

"Ok James?"

"Yes Sam, I feel fine, I enjoyed it." I said truthfully.

"No regrets?"

"No, no I enjoyed it, did you."

"Yes it, well you I mean, were fantastic. You really are a good fuck James."

"Cheers, you say the nicest things," I replied smiling.

"Just the truth babe, just the truth."

We were quiet for a while until he said.

"Will you do it again?"

"In the right circumstances with the right person, yes of course."

"And I am that am I?"

"Yes you are."

"Are you happy being a bottom James."

"Yes, but I am curious about the other."

"What being a top and fucking someone?"

"Yes."

"Well that would make you like me."

"And what's that?"

"Well in the gay world they are called a versatile."

"Ok Sam so if I am a versatile, when can I fuck you?" I asked him just before I dozed off.



Bottom Training School



“I see your hard on Sam, you better go ask your Father’s permission before you start jerking off, if you don’t I’ll tell him myself.”

“Mario can’t you just shut up and clean the house like you’re paid to”

Sam was really quite stunning to look at. 18 years old with golden blonde hair and a flawless, slim yet built physic, long limbs and a sassy teen attitude to match.

“ I’m just trying to help Sam. You know how determined your Father is about you and those erections you get.”

“I’m not going Mario, I just won’t jerk off that’s all. It doesn’t matter if I have a hard on, I’m just not supposed to cum with out asking dad’s permission.”

“I think you better go tell your Father anyway Sam, you’ve got a precum spot the size off a bread plate on the front of your shorts and I know you have been holding off all weekend. If you come even without jerking off I know your Father would go through the roof.”

Mario smiled at Sam and giggled a little when Sam’s stiff cock would twitch noticeably inside his tight shorts.

“Oh shit Mario… I can’t leave the house with an erection like this and it just won’t go down!”

Sam hung his head and let Mario lead him to the study where his father, Dick was looking over some papers. The young man folded his hands behind his back exposing the incredible stiffy that he had had since three days before. A large wet stain on the front of his shorts brought further attention to the size and tension of Sam’s embarrassing predicament.

“Ahhh, my son! You haven’t been jerking off haven’t you my boy?”

Sam’s Father studied the boy’s body and let his eyes rest on the bulge in his son’s pants. His own prick began to stir at the sight and he adjusted his trousers to make room.

“He’s been rubbing at it through his shorts all afternoon when he thinks no one is looking, Sir.”

Sam wailed in disbelief at the lie Mario had told purposefully to bring on what ever was going to be Sam’s perverse and impending punishment.

“No way dad, I didn’t stroke my self I swear! I’ve been trying so hard all weekend dad and my hard on just wont go down but I’ve been a good sissy son dad, I promise!”

“Mario,” Sam’s father said shifting his gaze to the housekeeper. “It seems my punishments aren’t working with the lad. I think that I may have to send him away to the school for good. Maybe with harder training he’ll learn to control his bottoms!” Sam shrieked then grew calm and tried to reason and then took to shrieking again. His case was lost when he blew his load during the vigorous punishment administered to his rear with the ping pong paddle his dad used in cases like this one.

The tall stone school was a specialties service to moneyed perverts the world over. Sam had been there twice before. The last time was for the full summer vacation from Sam’s regular prep school, before that, he had spent 6 consecutive weekends there over the school year. This time Sam was to learn upon admittance that he was to be spending the next full year at;

THE BOTTOM TRAINING SCHOOL FOR BOYS Mario grinned like a fiend out of the window as the car taxied down the oak lined drive and out of sight on a seldom used country road. Sam’s rear end had been spanked that morning and his anus was on fire due to the large butt plug that had been placed there by his father’s athletic trainer that morning and was a requirement for admittance at the Boy’s Training School. He hadn’t had a chance to enjoy the penetration as he usually did due to the unceremonious entry and the ruff texture of the plug. It was Master Kendle who greeted the boy and Sam’s heart raced as Master kendle eyed his lean boyish body without hiding the contempt mixed with the lust and loathing he had for the boy. Master Kendle assigned him to a 30 something Italian named Gio that had paid an extravagant price to be a guest of the school and had visited as a guest on many occasions to fulfill every of his most base desires to his supreme satisfaction.

“Has he been trained here before, Dan?” The Italian asked Master Kendle.

“He has been trained, but not to his father’s satisfaction, have you, my boy?”

“No Sir, I need more…” Sam choked, “…training.”

Sam knew not to speak to Dan Kendle out of turn and to keep his head lowered and his hands loosely at his sides. Sam was made to show the Italian his body and when the Italian approved was lead away by another master named Teddy. 

“Have you had your spanking today Sam?”

“Yes, once this morning Sir.”

“Only one?” Teddy raised an eyebrow. “You know you are to have 200 smacks a day, Sam. The last time you were here you developed quite a raw backside toward the end. I think this time you will have a chance to choose how many whacks you get daily. I know your father is a fan of spanking, Sam but one full year is an extremely long time to receive daily punishment”

Sam’s cheeks flushed bright red at the prospect. Remembering the summer he had spent at the school not more then a year ago, when he was humiliated daily. Teddy led Sam into a classroom where a roomful of fresh looking young men were at study. 

“Class this is Sam, he has been sent here by his father for a full years worth of training and discipline. Sam…” Teddy turned to Sam. “Is you ass fulfilling its duty?”

“Sir?”

“Have you a plug up your rear?”

“Yes, Sir” The class stirred and Sam looked strait at the floor, his cheeks scarlet, his anus burning. “Good boy Sam.” Said master Teddy. “Your anus will be disciplined for pleasure…at all times. Class, I have decided to ease up on Sam’s daily spankings as he allows for himself by choice. If you want Sam you may have your spankings lessoned one whack for each marble you inserts into your ass, for every marble, one less whack.”

“Oh! Thank you Master Teddy, I don’t think my behind can take all the spankings a year can give. I’ll try to take it well Master Teddy” 

“Don’t thank me too soon, my boy a sphincter can only take so much…am I right Jason?” Teddy motioned to a sweaty looking young man in the front row, looking as though in the throughs of fatigue.

“I think so, Master Teddy only so much.” He answered limply.

“Oh Jason…that reminds me,” Teddy sighed. “Go to the closet Jason and get another marker. No, not the little ones, you know very well the thicker one is better.” Jason did as he was told while holding his belly as if in discomfort. Slowly he walked to the front of the room and handed the marker to Master Teddy. Then he began to pull down his trousers and place his hands on his knees so that Master Teddy could work the marker into his already packed asshole. It took quite a while for Teddy and Jason to make room and while this was going on several boys in the class shifted in their chairs with all eyes peeled to the sight of Jason’s strained and yielding asshole. Jason let out a loud sigh when Master Teddy found a spot and eased the new marker into position. Jason walked back to his seat awkwardly and in obvious discomfort. Master Teddy’s attention returned to Sam and noticed Sam’s large and already wet hard on. Sam had not been allowed to come since the spanking he received the past weekend.  “Class we will continue with today’s lesson, Sam you can stay in front of the class.” Sam was made to remove his pants after answering questions about the plug that had been placed in his rear earlier that morning. “Describe for the class Sam what kind of objects have been used in your little bum.” Sam naked from the waist down, hot with embarrassment began an account. “ I am use to smaller plug, about the size of an egg. Mario, our housekeeper has convinced Father that I need a bigger, wider one since my cock has been getting stiff almost all the time.” “Willy, Sam, willy, from now on you are not to call what you have anything other than willy.” “Yes Master Teddy.” “Now sit down Sam and if Jason will come back to the front of the room we will continue todays lesson.”

After class Sam waited for Jason in the hall and asked him with keen interest how it felt to have all that stuff up his butt.

“ Its amazing really and quite uncomfortable. I have been generous will my ass ever since Uncle Brad gave my parents the inheritance. He’s not my Uncle really, but my parents are really rich now and I have to stay here to…get better at taking bigger cocks then what my Uncle Brad’s got.”

“Your Uncle Brad, does he give it to you a lot? I mean what do you have to do? All I have to do is get spankings and sit on Daddy’s lap and get punishment for jerking off”

“Yeah Uncle Bard does that stuff too. He and his friends fuck my mouth and asshole whenever they want. I’m here to learn asshole training so that I can make Uncle Willy and his friends come without their having to move in and out at all. Master Teddy has these exercises I do daily. So far I learned how to suck in and rotate an egg, but I can’t leave here until I learn how to juggle three different colored eggs with my sphincter muscles. Then I’ll be set to go back to Uncle Brad, and sit on his lap and massage his cock when he wishes.

That night Sam was fitted with a rubber chastity belt that he was to ware for the rest of his yearlong stay at the Boy’s Training School. Sam was fondled and fucked without ceremony that night for many hours and many nights to come. In the months that fallowed Sam was transformed into the ideal submissive and learned to receive humiliation with pleasure and never questioned his roll as a fuck toy.

At the end of the year his Father sent for him and he was informed that his wedding had been planned, the date set for the very afternoon he was leaving the school, and that he was to arrive at the estate and prepare immediately. Of course it was Mario who bestowed this revelation to Sam while accompanying him in the back seat of the Rolls-Royces just as the car pulled away from the school’s driveway. Mario couldn’t help but notice the change in the young man, who had filled out into a rather handsome man now 19 years of age. Sam blinked at the news and said.

“ If that is what father wishes I shall do what ever makes him happiest.” 

Mario grinned from ear to ear and removed a giant cock from within his pants.

“Do you want to suck my big dick, Sam?”

“YYYes Mario, you know I do” Sam’s eyes lowered in humiliation. “You won’t tell Father if I suck it for you.”

“I won’t tell… not on your wedding day.”

Sam swallowed Mario’s 11 inches all that way down his throat, kneeling in between Mario’s legs. Mario slid down the seat so that Sam could also suck his balls and anus. Mario closed his eyes as Sam probed deep into his ass with the length of his tongue, moving his head back and forth and massaging the sphincter with his lips.

“Slow it down Sam, don’t make me come to quick, the ride’s a couple hours and I want to make this last.”

Stay tuned for part two.



Bottomed Out



I used to peruse the personal ads on a particular website every few weeks. It's not so much that I was desperately looking for love as I was simply lonely, in a new town and a few months out of a failed relationship. One day, two weeks ago, as I was browsing the females-seeking-males ads, and finding no one of any interest, I noticed that the site had a section entitled "casual encounters." Slightly guilty, and slightly embarrassed, but very much needing human contact, I clicked over to the casual encounters page. Scrolling down the list I saw every imaginable desire being advertised. Desperate young women looking for wealthy men for sugar daddy relationships; horny men in town for one night looking for a woman near the airport to ass fuck; and many, many, men looking to suck another man's cock, or to have their cock sucked by another man. 

I had never been with another man, but looking at the pictures posted, and thinking about how easy it would be to just get myself off in any mouth, I was intrigued. What surprised me even more was that I started to think about what it would be like to be on the receiving end, with another man's warm and hard dick pushing into my mouth. I wondered what cum would feel like filling up my mouth; what it would feel like dribbling down my chin. I found myself tugging lazily at my penis as I scrolled down, seeing pic after pic of men who wanted to put their cock in my mouth. 

Just at the point where my raging hard-on and my need to be pressed against another body had made me decide that I would take a weird step and answer one of the ads, I saw a posting whose headline read "pussy boy needed." Even with women I had been a little submissive, having one of my girlfriends tie me up and grind her cunt against my blindfolded face for hours on end, but I wasn't sure I was ready to be a "pussy boy" for another man. One look at the picture on the ad changed my mind. "master," as he signed his ad, was tall and solidly built with chestnut hair and, amazingly, a penis that seemed as thick as his wrist and which stretched up almost to his chest. It looked as if it was easily eleven inches, putting the six inch cock in my hand to shame. I closed my eyes and sucked on my fingers, thinking about what it would be like to have such a huge cock stretching my lips. I knew right then that, whatever master wanted me to do, I would do it just to be able to feel that cock. 

I took my eyes from the picture and read the body of the message: "I will arrive at your home. You will be completely shaved and wearing panties, heels and lipstick. You will do what I want, when I want, for as long as I want. If you do not do it well enough, there will be consequences. You will be used until I am tired of you. In exchange, you will get nothing but the pleasure of serving me. Reply with a picture and your address. If I choose to use you, I will show up at nine. – master"

I was nervous about everything in the ad, but I was surprisingly sure that the pleasure of serving that penis would make whatever he would do to me worth it. I quickly got out my digital camera and took a picture of myself lying in my bed with my little cock in my hand. I sent off my reply with my address and immediately began to worry that he actually might choose me. Nevertheless, I couldn't stop myself from preparing for him. I dug through my drawers for the odds and ends my ex-girlfriend had left behind when we broke up. I found several pairs of her panties, a shade of red lipstick, and a pair of tall, pointy black heels which I was sure were too small for me. I chose the black satin string bikini panties which had always driven me crazy and lay my outfit down on my bed in front of me. I couldn't believe that in less than two hours I would be wearing only those three things, waiting for a strange man to show up. 

I got into the shower and spread shaving cream over my legs, chest, ass and balls and picked up a fresh razor. Shaving took longer than I had thought it would, as I had never shaved anything but my face. I saved my ass for last, thinking it would be the hardest. As I added a little bit more shaving cream my finger grazed my tight little hole and I flinched. Soon that tight little hole might be stretched wide by the biggest cock I had ever seen, I thought. I let my fingers remain there for a little while, slowly making circles around the ring of muscles, going so far as to push my index finger in to the first knuckle. My whole body tensed as I did this, but my cock rose straight in the air and I could feel lightning bolts of pleasure racing from my asshole straight to the tip of my penis. I slid my finger in further and was soon forcing another finger in as I wildly finger-fucked my asshole, jamming my hand between my cheeks harder and harder, not believing the feeling that I had never before experienced. I hadn't even touched my cock when my body tensed again, this time in orgasm, and I sprayed cum in long spurts along the shower wall.

I collected myself and finished shaving, resisting the urge to continue playing with my tender hole. Even without intentionally playing with it, having my hand and the razor so close to it was enough to keep me hard while I shaved away the last of the hair on my body. I cleaned myself up and stepped out of the shower, at this point so excited about unknown prospects that slipping into the panties and applying the lipstick didn't faze me in the least. I even managed to dig up a bottle of my ex's perfume which I had kept to remember her by. The heels, however, were a little difficult. They were, as I had feared, a size too small, and they were so tall that, even after I had squeezed myself into them, I could barely stand upright. 

With twenty minutes of practice I had convinced myself that I could at least move slowly in them without falling over. I looked at my watch and saw that it was five minutes to nine. I stood in my foyer and waited nervously, praying madly that I would hear his knock on the door. At five minutes past nine I was just starting to feel let down when he knocked, loud and hard on the door. My cock jumped upright and I had to wedge it back painfully between my legs to keep it from stretching the flimsy satin of the panties. 

I shuffled to the door and looked through the peephole. It was him, standing two feet away from me. I opened the door and stepped back. Master looked me up and down and grimaced a little bit. "You look like a filthy whore," he said. I looked down, disappointed that I had already failed to please him. Master reached out roughly and grabbed my chin. "You look at me when I am addressing you, you hear that cunt?" 

"Yes," I said softly. 

He slapped me hard across the face. "Yes, master" he shouted back at me. "You had better start doing better or the next few days will not be easy on you." 

At the word 'days' my eyes widened. He was going to use me for days? I was scared, but I replied, "Yes, Master. I will do better Master."

With that he pushed me down on to my knees. I thought he was going to put his cock in my mouth right then, but instead, he walked past me, leaving me kneeling in front of the still open doorway in my panties and lipstick. I looked straight forward and tried to keep from sobbing as I heard him unzip the bag he had brought with him and begin taking items out, arranging them on my living room floor. I heard him walk once around the house and chuckle to himself softly before he returned to me and put a hand to my neck. He buckled a cold leather and steel collar around me. In the front of the collar was a small box with two electrodes sticking out of it which stuck directly into my throat. I recognized it as a shock collar used to train dogs. He fastened a leash to the back of it and immediately tugged down hard, pulling me off my knees and onto my back with my feet still drawn up beneath me. In this position my hard cock, still wedged between my thighs, was being pulled down in an excruciatingly painful way. 

Master must have figured out why my face looked pained, because he looked down at my panties and said "That looks like a nice little pussy you've got there slut. Maybe you will be able to serve me after all." 

I couldn't believe it, but I actually found myself blushing at this, and said, "Thank you, Master. I really want to pleasure you well."

"Good, cunt, then get on your feet and get me a beer," master said as he walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, flipping on the television. I got to my feet and carefully started walking my way to the kitchen on the tall heels. He looked at me and sighed, then got up and grabbed the leash trailing behind me. With one tug I fell to the floor. "Are you such a little whore that you aren't even used to walking? Well, if you are only used to being on all fours, then I guess that's how you'll have to get me my beer." As I crawled towards the kitchen he spanked my ass hard and I cried out a little in surprise. "The next time you cry like that, you'll find out what that little box on your collar is for, cunt," he said. I became quiet and crawled to the kitchen to get his beer. 

On all fours, I couldn't hold the beer in my hand, so I held the long neck of the bottle in my mouth, imagining the bottle to be master's cock, and crawled back into the living room, where Master had turned on pay-per-view porn. A woman was lying on her back on screen while one guy fucked her pussy, another her mouth, and several others rubbed their cocks in anticipation of their turns. I thought that I might enjoy being in her place.

Master drained the beer in one gulp and demanded another one. I crawled to the kitchen to get another one, which master again drained in seconds. When I came back with the third, master had stripped off his shirt and pants and lay on the couch in nothing but his bikini briefs. I could see the outline of his semi-erect member through the briefs and thought it was just as big as in the picture. I brought him the beer and he told me to lick his feet and toes. I did as I was told and began to lick the sole of his feet, taking his toes into my mouth and sucking on them occasionally. After fifteen minutes of this, master pulled his foot from my mouth and, with a small flick of his ankle, slapped me across the face with his toes, smearing my own saliva across my cheek. He got up and grabbed the leash, pulling me so quickly across the room that I didn't have time to crawl along with him, I was just being dragged by my neck. 

He pulled me into the bathroom. "Listen Cunt, I'm not sure you are fit to take my cum into your mouth or your pussy yet. But I could see the way you were eyeing my cock and I could tell that you wanted me to spray something in you, so this will have to do. He pulled my head back over the toilet with one hand and brought his now near-erect penis out of his briefs with the other. I knew what he was going to do and was disgusted, but didn't care. All I wanted was his cock in my mouth, and I didn't care if that meant that he was going to be pissing while it was in there. I opened my mouth as wide as I could, but instead of putting his cock inside, he simply held it a few inches away and let go a stream of piss straight into the back of my throat. I choked on it at first and it spilled down my chest and onto the floor. "The more that gets on to the floor, cunt, the more you are going to have to lick up. So I suggest you start figuring out how to swallow this," Master said as he kept pissing into my open mouth. It was bitter and salty, and despite myself, I felt my cock throbbing as he continued to spray my mouth. But, try as I might, I couldn't seem to swallow more than a little bit, and most of it ended up on the floor. 

"You are going to have to clean that up bitch. Get on the floor and start licking." While I began to tentatively lick up the piss on my bathroom floor, Master went back into the living room. When he came back he had shed his briefs and was holding a small leather covered paddle. "Next time I give you something to swallow, you will swallow it." And he smacked me hard with the paddle across my upturned, panty covered ass. I yelped again and then immediately realized that I shouldn't have. A shock ran through my body as the collar came to life. When it finished, I was lying on the floor in a pool of Master's piss, almost unable to move my arms and legs. Master swatted me one more time on my ass, hard; this time I was too spent to make a sound. "Now clean all of this up, rinse yourself off, and come meet me in my bedroom, little piss whore. We'll see if there's anything you're good at."

At the prospect of seeing if there was something in the bedroom at which I was good, I immediately perked up. Despite the humiliating treatment (or maybe, I would realize later, because of it) I was unable to think of anything but pleasuring this man who had so far controlled me almost completely. I quickly lapped up all of the now fetid urine, swallowing it in gulps in order to get into the bedroom faster for my master. 

I crawled into the room to find that master had set up some of the things from his bag: the headboard and footboard now had ropes coming from the four corners with loops at the ends of them. Master slapped me across the face and took off my collar. I was relieved, at first, to be free from the dog training box. However, Master simply removed the box from the collar and put it on another, much smaller collar. "lower your panties to your knees and bend over," Master commanded. I did as I was told, and became very aware all of a sudden that my little penis was still wedged between my thighs, after all that had happened. It was now sticking out behind me beneath my exposed and freshly shorn ass hole. Master fitted this collar around my cock and balls and cinched it painfully tight. With a flick of a remote control, Master set the box pulsing and agonizing pain shot from my cock through my body. "Now you know what it will feel like from here on out if I am not happy. That box will not get taken off until I leave, so get used to trying very hard you filthy cunt. Now raise your panties and lie on your back on the bed."

I did as I was told, and Master attached one leg and one arm to the headboard, the other two to the footboard, so I was spread open with my head hanging off one edge of my twin bed, and my ass hanging off the other. The ropes cut into the flesh of my ankles and wrists uncomfortably, but I thought to myself that the pain would be bearable once master's cock was in my mouth. I salivated at the though of it and my widespread asshole twitched excitedly. My small penis was throbbing underneath my panties despite the collar wrapped tightly around it. Master stood above my head looking down at me. He took his soft but still huge cock in his hand and slapped my back and forth across my face, smearing my lipstick and raising red lines across my cheeks. Just as I thought he was going to finally fulfill my wish and let me suck his penis, he got onto the bed, straddling my chest with his ass staring into my face. He pushed back shoving his ass onto my mouth hard. 

"Lick my asshole, cunt. Lick it well or I will not be pleased. Taste what it is like to be a little pussy boy and be glad that your master is letting you touch him at all." I hesitantly slipped my tongue past my lips to touch Master's tight little ring of muscles. It tasted warm, musky, and sweet, the taste immediately filling my mouth and nose as I uncontrollably, almost unconsciously began devouring Master's asshole. I licked around the edge of his hole, taking the flesh into my mouth and rolling it between my lips. I licked his crack from the soft skin beneath his balls to the edge of his crack beneath the small of his back. I stuck my tongue out as far as I could to lick his asshole with the broad part of my tongue, ravenously devouring all of my Master's flesh that I could get my tongue and lips onto. As my tongue circled Master's hole he quickly pushed his body down onto my face even harder, forcing my outstretched tongue up into his tight asshole. The feeling of my tongue surrounded by the tight walls of my Master's ass was glorious and I strained to push myself deeper into him, my chin and nose grinding against his ass crack. "That's a good little slut. You can't get enough of my asshole, can you bitch?"

"No sir," I mumbled into his asshole, "I need to eat more and more of your hole Master."

At that, Master pulled his ass away from my face as I strained to follow it with my tongue. He stood up above my head again and slapped my face again with his now hard cock. This was my first look at his cock in all its erect majesty. It was huge, the knob a deep purple with long, hard veins crisscrossing the length of the shaft. I needed that beautiful cock in my mouth and couldn't stop myself from begging Master for it. 

"Please, Master, please put your big cock into your little cunt's mouth. She needs it, master," I pleaded.

Master shook his head at this and reached for the remote to the shock collar. My eyes filled with fear and then tears at the pain that was shooting through my cock and balls. My whole body shook with pain and I struggled not to cry out, not wanting to make Master angrier. When Master finally turned off the shock collar he slapped me, backhanded, across the face. "Good little sluts don't beg their Master, you hear me. Good little sluts do as they are told and that is it. Now you will have to wait to have Master's cock in your mouth. Instead, Master's going to have to fuck your little pussy."

With that, Master moved around the bed to stand between my outstretched legs. His rough hand grabbed the crotch of my panties, and, in one quick movement, tore them off of me. He took the pre-cum dripping from his slit and rubbed it around his cock, making it glisten as I watched nervously. In one long stab his penis was inside me as far as I thought I could take it. It stretched my tight little "pussy" and felt like it had impaled me halfway up my body. I looked down and saw that only half of Master's tremendous cock was inside me. With a grunt he pushed the rest of himself into my pussy. I screamed in pain as his balls slapped against my ass cheeks and his cock filled my entire body. He slapped me in the balls and I knew that I had to be quiet, no matter how much it hurt. 

He ground his cock in and out of my pussy short, fast, and hard strokes while his hands grabbed my nipples, pulling and twisting them roughly, only stopping occasionally to slap my face or my balls. The pain was enormous and everywhere at once, but with each slap and each thrust of his cock into my pussy my cock twitched and electric feelings of pleasure shot through my body to mix with the pain. Master continued to fuck my pussy raw and dry for what seemed like hours as I writhed in a mixture of pleasure and intense pain. Finally, just as I thought I couldn't take it anymore Master's thrusts got shorter and harder, and I could feel his legs and back tense. With one last thrust and a grunt he buried his cock fully into my pussy and I felt him release. I could feel load after load of hot cum splashing against my insides, coating me. The feeling of his hot jizz and still hard cock inside of me shook away any doubts about who or what I was; I was my Master's cunt, his bitch, his pussy; I was his little girl. This feeling of release pushed me over the edge and I couldn't stop my balls from exploding. I knew as I shot long ropes of cum out of my little penis that my cumming would anger Master, but I couldn't stop. I wasn't just his pussy, I was his pussy boy, and my little pussy boy's balls were emptying over my little pussy boy's stomach and chest. 

Master waited until I was finished, then he scooped up my jizz in his palm and slapped me again, smearing my cum over my cheeks and mouth. He shoved his hand into my mouth and I tasted my own juice, warm, creamy and bitter. I cleaned his hand with my tongue, swallowing all of my jizz and then licking my lips and trying to taste as much of it off of my cheeks as possible. Master pulled his soft dick out of my pussy and straddled my chest. His member hung in front of my face for a second, covered with his cum, before he plunged it into my waiting mouth. Master's cum tasted even better than mine, mixed with the sweet taste of my pussy. I couldn't get enough of the taste of Master's cum or of the feeling of even his soft cock against my lips as I sucked him clean.