1 comments/ 19339 views/ 5 favorites Choked By: Sarraslilslutboy Kitten looked up at Master a little scared. They'd never done this before; but when kitten confessed her dream to Master he got excited, almost taking her right then. Master stopped himself though. He immediately started teasing Kitten. He sat her on his lap and slid his hand down her stomach slowly, into her panty and cups his hand over her pussy. "M-master," she moaned looking up at him pushing her hips toward his hand. he took her clit between two fingers and rubbed gently just the way she liked. Immediately she dug her nails into her palms moaning desperately. "Please Master may i cum?" Kitten begged him as he slowly trailed a finger up from her dripping pussy and over her clit then circling it slowly. Master didn't respond and instead just withdrew his fingers from inside of her lace boy-shorts, bringing a whimper from her lips. "Kitten is not allowed to cum until I fuck her tonight," he whispered nipping her neck softly, a groan escaped her lips, Master had brought her so close. Right to the edge of orgasm and then forbid her from cumming. "Master always knows just how to torture his kitten," she thought nuzzling against his chest. Kitten squirmed on his lap; going an hour without cumming was an achievement for her. But master had been teasing her all day, and Kitten's thighs were glistening with juices from him. She purred when he slid his hand in between her legs. His fingers invading the tight space, sliding over her g-spot, his other hand teasing her clit and going in circles around it, carefully to make sure she doesn't cum. "M-masterr please I need to cum, I c-can't wait any longer please Master," she begged about to scream in frustration almost unable to think clearly at this point. "I'll let my slut cum once just to help her hold over ," He smiled and pushes two finger into her pussy slowly as she arched her back kisses his neck and chin. "Thank you Master, thank you," she screamed as she came hard, soaking her panties and her masters lap with her cum... Kitten was sitting on the edge of the bed looking up at her master a little fearfully, He placed his hand on her cheek and smiles reassuringly, leaning down and kissing her softly letting his lips brush over hers. Their heartbeats quickened and they kisses more deeply kitten wrapping her arms around him hesitantly nervous about what to come. Master pushed her onto her back gently and looked in her eyes.. so beautiful light blue.. shining brightly he could see the slight fear on her face, the excitement, the joy at being near her master. "Kitten," he started in his deep soothing voice "this is the first time we've played like this, how about we don't use the handcuffs the first time." Master was worried about his kitten, he didn't want the handcuffs and blindfold making her more scared than she already was. But Kitten smiled up at master trustingly. "I'll be fine master, I promise." She smiled shyly and master handcuffed her to the bed grabbing the blindfold and sliding it over her eyes. "I love you kitten," Master whispered softly as he slid his hands down her body causing her to arch her back against him gasping softly as he tweaked her nipples. Kitten felt the bed shift as master climbed onto the bed and smiled happily as he kissed her again, lifting one leg up over his shoulder and t he other around his waist. she felt his cock slide against her clit softly and shivered clenching her fists. "Please, take me master fuck your kitten." "As you wish my slut," he whispered pushing his cock in deeply hitting her cervix and bringing a scream to her lips. he slowly worked his hips in circles teasing his kitten as he leaned down to kiss her throat nipping gently. Kitten moaned eagerly thrusting her hips up to her master. "Please Master fuck me, fuck Your cunt hard," Kitten groaned in his ear and whimpered as he complied slapping her across the face as he thrusts in hard fucking her deeply. Kitten threw her head to the side and purred deeply hoping her Master would do it again. he back handed her this time making kitten yelp in surprise and pleasure. Master looked down at the beautiful girl writhing on his cock tied to the bed begging to be hit and used roughly, it was now or never. he quickly reached down and grabbed her by the throat choking her roughly. she coughed and dug her nails into her hands hard struggling not to cum. master let go and slapped her hard again a few times making her yelp each time then chokes her again making her gag. Master started to slam into her painfully hard she was sure that she would be bruised tomorrow but she didn't care, as she struggled under master, pretending to hate what he was doing, trying to breathe. Kitten was so close master let go to let her breathe again and she coughed. "Please master let me cum. please?" Kitten was about to lose it she saw master nod to her and she screamed loudly cumming hard and covering her and master with cum her throat raw and sore. He uncuffed her from the bed and dragged her roughly down to her knees back against the wall. "Open your mouth slut," he growled softly but was smiling at her. She nodded and did as she was told. her cheeks were sore from the slapping too sore to continue getting hit. Master's cock quickly shoved into her mouth and her raw throat. She moaned and gagged on his cock, the contraction of her throat making him moan in ecstasy. he grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth violently. "I'm going to cum Kitten!" he screamed and suddenly exploded in her mouth filling it completely and then some causing cum to drip out of the corners of her mouth. She quickly swallowed licking her lips and nuzzling his cock. "Thank you Adam, I love you so much." "I love you too Sarra." Choked Up “I’ll bet you have a beautiful neck.” Brooke looked up from her affectionately tattered copy of Middlemarch to see a youngish man standing beside her booth. The word metrosexual jumped through her mind. He was handsome enough, well-kempt; hair just so perfectly messy it had to be the result of gobs of hair product, and the leather jacket of the season. He’s gorgeous, thought Brooke. Not my type at all. Brooke noticed the guy staring at her neck and glanced down at it, though she was in no anticipation as to what she’d see. Brooke wore a form-fitting cranberry sweater, with a turtleneck that snugly obscured her alabaster neck. Long, straight chestnut hair fell down around her face, further hiding her neck from view. “Thank you, I appreciate the compliment.” There, that ought to end that. Brooke focused her attention back on the page of her book, not really reading yet but meaning to give the impression that she was. “Mind if I sit down?” Brooke sighed inwardly. The bastard was persistent. Probably read in one of those damn men’s magazines that women like you to be persistent. Only if we’re attracted to you, she mused. I’m having a nice date with the very attractive George Eliot at the moment, thank you very much. Can’t a girl explore a curiosity once in a while? “Sure,” she said, her voice dripping with insincerity. Why am I such a doormat? Why can’t I just tell a guy no? I always end up humoring him and wasting away my evening talking to some arrested adolescent and generally souring myself further on the male species in general. What’s so wrong with just saying, no thank you. I’d rather you didn’t sit down beside me and tell me how impressively big my boobs are? The young man slid into the opposite seat and extended his hand for Brooke to shake, which she took limply and bobbled up and down for a moment before retreating her hand to the safety of her side of the booth, under the table. “My name is Michael,” he said. Michael, she noted. Of course it’s Michael. Every other frat boy in this godforsaken college town is named Michael or Mike or Mikey, with the occasional Ryan or Dylan thrown in. I am utterly and spectacularly unsurprised that his name is Michael. “Brooke,” she responded. “So what frat to do you belong to?” Michael looked confused. “What makes you think I’m in a fraternity?” “You’re not?” Michael chuckled. “Um … I’m afraid to disappoint you, but no.” Brook arched an eyebrow. Hope for the boy yet. “That doesn’t disappoint me at all. I think you’re the last one.” Michael flashed a smile. Killer, thought Brooke. Maybe I should rethink this whole type nonsense. “Well, that’s good to hear,” he said. “Anyway, your neck. I really like a good neck. Why do you hide it behind that turtleneck sweater?” Brooke looked down, not at her suddenly prized unit of anatomy, but as the natural reflex that comes with blushing. “I just do,” she said. “It’s my style.” “Nonsense. You’re hiding something.” Nervous laughter leapt from Brooke’s lips. “Now what would I be hiding on my neck? A hickey?” Michael shook his head. “No. Something … else. Something deeper.” “Well?” “Well what?” “You know so much about me. What might it be that I’m hiding, exactly?” “That much I don’t know,” confessed Michael. “That’s why I want to get to know you better. To find out.” “You come on strong for a non-frat boy,” commented Brooke. “More articulate, though. That’s gotta be worth a couple of brownie points.” “What’s my score so far?” Brooke smiled coyly. “Hmm. I think you advance to round too.” “Ooh, the lightning round,” Michael said, rubbing his hands together mock-feverishly. “This is where I do most of my damage.” Brooke laughed and shook her head. Damn, I hate it when this happens, she thought. I don’t know whether to be repulsed by his cockiness or aroused. “So can I trade in my points for a special favor?” Michael asked. “And what might that be?” “Can I see it?” “It?” “Your neck.” “Ah.” Brooke shuffled in her seat. His fixation on my neck is a bit closer to creepy right now than flattering. Still … it’s a welcome change of pace from most of these Neanderthals ogling my breasts or ass, or that one guy who wanted to smell my feet. Oh, why not? What harm can it do? I’ll give him a thrill. “I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped my --” “No, no. It’s all right.” Brooke pulled down the neck of her sweater for just a flash, a glimpse of her neck. Michael shook his head. “No, no. That’s cheating. Do you have anything on under the sweater?” “A black t-shirt.” “Then take off the sweater. Let me see that neck in all its glory.” Brooke hesitated and locked eyes with Michael. There was something in his eyes, something … peaceful. Innocent. Something that made her trust him implicitly. Brooke nodded and slid her sweater over her head, tossling her hair as her head popped through the hole. Brooke looked down at the table. “Lift your head up,” requested Michael. “I can’t see it with your head down like that.” Brooke looked up, then, awash in a sudden tide of brashness, craned her neck so Michael could get a terrific glimpse. Michael inspected it as though he were a doctor, taking it in from a variety of angles as he hummed and grunted approvals here and there. “Just as I thought,” Michael said, leaning back in his seat contentedly. “That’s one hell of a neck you’ve got there.” “You’re an awfully big fan of the neck,” said Brooke. “Not many men I’ve met like that.” “What can I say?” said Michael, shrugging. “Some men like tits, others ass. Me, I like that stretch between a girls shoulders and her pretty face.” Another swell of pink on Brooke’s cheeks. The man was a charmer, that much was certain. He knew his way around the words. “I also like touching necks.” Brooke glanced back up. Where was he going with this? “I’d like to touch yours.” Brook half-smiled. That’s where I thought he was going with this. “Look, I’m not really looking for --” “I’m sorry. I’ve offended you.” Michael paused, then started to slide out of the booth. “I’ll go now.” “Don’t.” Michael froze. Brooke wasn’t sure why that just happened, why that word just came out of her mouth, but it did, and she wasn’t about to retract it. “You want to touch my neck?” “I’d like that very much, yes.” Brooke and Michael sat in stalemate for a beat, Brooke waiting for his hand to move across the table at her. Hints of moisture started to form around her pussy. The waiting was a bit agonizing, but most certainly not unpleasant. “I didn’t mean here.” “Oh?” “To touch a neck so wondrous --” Oh, now it’s just a load of crap, thought Brooke -- “This must be done intimately. In private. With no to distract one from cherishing the task at hand.” Brooke chuckled. “Are you for real?” “Very.” That was stone-cold. If this guys’ bull-shitting, he’s mastered the art of faking conviction, noted Brooke. “That’s all. Just touch my neck, nothing else?” Michael smiled. “That’s all I’ll touch. I promise. Cross my heart.” Ah, what the hell. Brooke nodded and got up, folding her sweater under her arm. Michael followed her lead, grabbed her book and handed it to her which she stowed inside the folds of her sweater. “Thank you,” said Brooke. “Don’t mention it.” As Brooke followed Michael through the smoky, crowded path cut through the mass of humanity in the claustrophobic on-campus pub, she noticed herself getting more and more aroused, her hidden-away snatch dampening more and more. It had been a long time since she had been so intrigued by a man. None of the boys around this zoo referred to as a “university” were anything close to what she was looking for, either over-confident frat boys or confidence-lacking wieners. None of them “men.” There were some professors who, in another day, another time, she might have been drawn to, but … eww, they’re old. I’m not going to be that girl. But this guy … well, you’ve got to give him credit for originality. He’s got that poster boy look, for sure, but he wears it well over his quiet confidence, something mysterious … yes, that was it. Mysterious. She couldn’t figure this guy out and it was driving her nuts. Nuts and-up-the-wall horny. She hadn’t been this horny for a guy since she was first introduced to Septimus Hodge. Through the back door and they were outside, in the alley, no one around but peek-a-boo vermin and Mr. Moon playing his constant role as voyeur. Brooke looked around. “Not exactly the Tavern on the Green,” Brooke mused. “Is this romantic to you?” “Who said anything about romance?” Brooke nodded, growing more wary with each passing second. “That’s right, just neck-touching. I understand.” The two stood frozen for a moment, just looking at each other, Brooke shivering a bit without her sweater in the crisp October weather. Michael started walking toward her slowly, a barely audible crunch with each encroaching footstep.. Each time that sound entered Brooke’s ears, she got a little bit more scared, though she couldn’t say quite why … and a little bit wetter inside her plainish cotton panties. Michael stopped just in front of Brooke and raised his arm, gently lowering his hand onto her neck. He rubbed it slowly, moving downward, then back up … it tickled a bit. Brooke stifled a giggle. It just didn’t seem right to laugh at a time like this. It was obviously very serious to Michael … and some part of her wanted it to be an issue of sexual gravity as well. Michael’s other hand went to her neck, which he now cradle as if he were holding a priceless vase. He pressed a bit more firmly, slightly uncomfortable for Brooke. A pang of worry cut through her gut. “Okay, Michael, that’s good.” The hands didn’t come off. Brooke looked at each paw, clutching onto her as if she were some kind of snared prey about to be devoured. Beads of perspiration scooted down her forehead. “Michael, I said that’s good. That’s enough --” Suddenly, Michael pulled his grip tight, choking Brooke. She coughed and wheezed, fear flashing in her eyes, trying to get out the words, “What--what are you --?” Brooke struggled and squirmed, trying to break free, but it was no good. Michael’s hands were too powerful, too much in-control. Screams were muffled by the restriction of her throat, and Brooke’s skin tingled with terror. Terror … and excitement. As the downy hairs on her body stood on end, more and more juice gushed from her vagina. She’d never felt like this, so utterly terrified and turned-on at once. It was … exhilarating. Brooke looked up into Michael’s eyes, suddenly so intense and devilish. Michael’s face seemed as strained and bulging, red and veiny as Brooke’s, as her imposed his will on her body by sheer force, violating her and cutting off her very source of life, her breath. The notion that she might well die flashed through Brooke’s mind, but was swallowed up by the wanton lust that coursed through her veins, making her skin feel electric and her panties soaked through and through with desire. Air became more scarce by the moment, and light-headedness claimed Brooke’s consciousness. Overwhelming feelings of affection and peacefulness became entangled with her unbridled passion. It occurred to Brooke that she had had fantasies before where she lost control, but nothing like this -- so given away to an urge to be taken and violated, to be fucked and made a lowly bitch at some cruel man’s mercy. All other will emptied from her head, Brooke suddenly wanted this more than anything, to be treated in such a degrading, harmful fashion. The fingers wrapped around her neck seemed welded in place, a permanent attachment to this area of her body she kept so well-hidden most of the time. They were now as one. What was this obsession with keeping her neck from view, from saving it from exposure? It was sensitive, to be sure; easily tickled, and easily bruised. Many a pair lips she had battled away to keep from leaving their mark on her neck. But this was different. This was no hickey, no playful tickle; this was dominance, was giving herself over to a muscular pair of hands, to a will more powerful than her own, a force that had the ability to take her life or grant her extreme mercy. Brooke was enraptured in awe for Michael in this instant, and loved him even as she found herself scared for her very life because of his hands. Memories became entangled, sensations merging in association. She remember when she was a child, at the public swimming pool, when she was drowning, fighting for air as she sunk under, unable to swim, before the lifeguard rescued her -- suddenly entwined with other memories from that pool, with a burgeoning young woman, just over the threshold of adolescence, noticing boys for the first time, not knowing why these stupid creatures, grunting and running and yelling like primates, stirred such strange, so new feelings beneath her Strawberry Shortcake one-piece swimsuit, cartoonish innocence concealing a rapid physical descent into decadence. Oh, what glorious times, so full of self-discovery, physical and emotional enlightenment, awash in new desires and tastes for otherwise undesirable boys and hints of shame that in fleeting moments delighted her … just as they were now, at this very instant. Brooke’s face was turning blue, her struggling losing momentum. She had before given up fighting for her life and continued simply because that was what she was supposed to do, even as she became appreciative for what Michael was doing to her. Now, she hadn’t even the energy to do that. A calm flowed through her, an acceptance that she was about to die, and thankful that she could experience orgasm at that same instant. Orgasm. That was what she was feeling. The sensations suddenly were without name, as cognizance and recognition escaped from Brooke’s suddenly vacuum-like consciousness, but one last thought occurred to her, that she was coming, that unmistakable wave after wave pulsating through her body, claiming her just as powerfully and ruthlessly as did Michael. She was given over now to two masters, to the man and to the orgasm, and she was in horrific bliss. And just like that, it was over. Michael’s hands opened and fled from her neck, and Brooke’s limp body dropped like a stone to the ground below. She lay panting, as her throat reintroduced itself to air flow, her chest heaving -- from her ordeal or from her ecstasy? Michael stood above her, his hands trembling out in front of him, as he looked on them almost terrified, as if they were stained with the blood of some poor murdered sap. Brooke managed the strength to raise her head, and looked up into Michael’s eyes. Her own were soft, pleading -- at first, Michael thought, for answers or mercy -- but no, he realized. They were pleading for forgiveness. For herself, and for Michael to forgive himself for what he had just done. She could see the horrific realization etched on his face, that he had gone beyond what he imagine that even he was capable of, and she wanted him to know that not only was she not so seriously harmed, not even angry at him, but thankful. Thankful that through sudden cruel constriction, she was set free inside of herself. Free to explore more depths of her depravity -- or of something wonderful and enlightening. Perhaps both. Michael straightened his posture, shook off his “willies,” and smiled, warmly and knowingly. He kneeled down beside Brooke, brushed his hand through her hair, causing her to feel comforted and warmed. “I think we discovered what you were hiding,” he exclaimed, his voice soft and yet penetrating. He read her. He knew what she was thinking, what she was feeling, somehow -- he has become one with her. Not by sticking his cock in her cunt, but by something more delicious and painful, more impersonal yet much more intimate. Michael stood up, took one last lingering glance at his prey, and then walked away, the backdoor to the Irish-style pub slamming shut behind him. Brooke lay quivering on the nasty alley floor, looking up at the stars above her, unable to move, and smiling, color returning to her cheeks. God, the night sky was beautiful, she thought. She felt more alive than she had in a long time -- after all, she had just escaped death, and in exhilarating fashion. Tenderly, Brooke sat up and searched the area around her. She found Middlemarch, a feet off to the side -- but where was the sweater? She scanned around her, but there was no sight of it. Scurrying rodents behind the dumpster put a momentary fright into Brooke, causing her pussy to twitch again. No, no more of this sensation for tonight, thought Brooke. She got up to leave, giving her search for the sweater. It was just as well. She had no more need to hide her neck; she liked the idea of leaving it so exposed, vulnerable, able to be taken and grabbed and shook. Brook walked back inside the bar. Michael was gone, not a trace … except for her sweater, neatly folded upon the table where they first met. Brooke smiled and walked on past the table, past the cranberry-hued turtleneck sweater, and out the front door of the pub. Choking Kirsty Without a doubt the weirdest and most dangerous sexual relationship I have ever had was with a girl called Kirsty Gallacher. I met her in a crowded night-club, I was 21 and the proverbial 'young, dumb and full of cum'. She was, looks wise at least, way out of my league but that didn't stop me chatting her up, buying her and her mates a drink and getting a dance with her. Whether it was my looks, my wit, my charm or my dance moves (I suspect none of the above) something clicked with her and we ended up stumbling down the street of the town we both live in at 3am, both a little drunk and a lot aroused. Like I said Kirsty was hot and way hotter in the looks department than any of the girls I had been with up to that point in my life. She was surprisingly tall for a girl, had the most gorgeous long, dark hair (I was an absolute sucker for brunettes at that point in my life, weird because I married three blondes), was 5'9" had a flawless, creamy white complexion and the most piercing bright blue eyes I have ever encountered in my life. What a figure she had too. On that hot, sticky first night in the night-club, she looked coolness personified dressed in a very short white skirt, a loose tied at the back silver top that showed ample amounts of cleavage and almost her entire back and silver high heels. I don't know physically what was her best feature because her legs were amazing, her ass as curvy as hell and she was pretty well sacked up top too. Actually I do know, it was those damn eyes of her, they seemed to hypnotise me into staring at her and being enraptured by her. All of which counted for naught when you add in the fact that Kirsty was, by far, the dirtiest, kinkiest, wildest girl I had ever had the fortune (and by the end misfortune) to have ever been with. It started on that first drunken walk back through the silent streets of our quiet town. She barely knew my name but she was leading me back to her place for a night-cap (and we both knew what kind) and without warning she stuck her right hand down the front of my jeans, under my shorts and took a firm grip of my member. "Mmm not bad, it'll do" was her immediate spoken aloud thoughts. I looked at her half bemused half randy as fuck and she just smiled wickedly back at me. "I'm a little slut aren't I? Go on call me a slut! I dare you!" And that was the first time I ever called a girl I hadn't split up with a slut right to her face. And I have to admit it gave me a little thrill taunting her that she was a slut as we made our way towards her flat. Once we got there we managed to strip out of our clothes in record time and we stood in her hall, stark naked kissing and fondling each other desperately and urgently. It did not take her long to grab me by my balls and lead me through to her bedroom. She was 19 and a student nurse and seemingly possessed no inhibitions. Once we were on her bed she held nothing back and rose to the occasion, matching her forceful kisses with ones of my own before easing my penis inside her neatly shaven pussy and starting to fuck her. And then things got strange. I was on top of her, she on her back arching her hips to let me get deeper as her pussy walls gripped the slippery sides of my cock when suddenly her face turned wild, almost feral and she barked at me. "Hit me! Hit me you bastard!" Never having met someone that was into rough sex before I froze and even stopped fucking her for a moment but her hips soon took up the slack. "What?" "Hit me! Slap my face, slap my tits! Call me a whore! Just fucking hit me! It helps me get off!" I was no shrinking violet but the thought of hitting a partner while screwing her had not even crossed my mind before but she was adamant and just the desperate tone of her voice told me she was completely serious. So I slapped her face. I guess I was still a bit nervous and surprised because it was a pretty wimpy effort and Kirsty gritted her teeth and spat at me. "Harder than that you fucker! Is that the best you have! FUCKING HIT ME!" I was still pounding into her and the effects of my earlier drinking and the intensity of what was going on made me react to her demand and give a bitch slap right to her left cheek. For a moment I was taken aback at what I had done and must have looked horrified but Kirsty virtually screamed at me to do it again and there was no mistaking that she was riding me even harder now that I had hit her. So I did it again, another hard slap and again the reaction was immediate as she tightened her strong logs around me, drew me deeper in and screamed at me to do it again. Three more slaps I had to give before she came in an absolute flood all over my own pulsating cock, it was the most intense sexual experience I had ever had up to that point and once I too had cum we lay for a while, soundless on her bed and guilt came over me like nothing before. I started trying apologise to Kirsty as I realised how bad this could look and how exposed I was to trouble if she suddenly changed her mind. But on that score I need not have worried, slapping her was to be the least of my worries. Maybe I should have cut my losses after that first encounter and chalked it up to experience but when Kirsty asked for my phone number and told me she wanted to see me the next day it was impossible for me to resist temptation. She called the next day and told me to come round to her flat after tea and while I had been somewhat freaked out by her the night before I had also had one of the most amazing orgasms of my life so I guess it was no surprise I arrived at her flat door at six that Sunday. Something told me Kirsty was not the chocolates and flowers type of girl so I only brought myself but when she opened the door to her flat, the smile on her face seemed to suggest that was more than enough. I had meant to say to her straight out once I got there that I hadn't been comfortable with what I had done yesterday but as her nimble hands moved directly to my belt and began unbuckling it, I lost my train of thought. She was just so bloody sexy and alluring. Almost as if she knew I was going to try and rain on her parade she got down on her knees in the hall, dragged my cock from my trousers and gave me a mind-blowing blow job there and then, ten seconds in her flat and my cock was balls deep in her mouth. She had this way of looking up with those big bright eyes while my cock was between her lips and it was just such an indescribable feeling, I genuinely believe she could have sucked cum from a stone with those lips. But she wasn't going to let me cum just yet. Having teased me to quite the magnificent erection she allowed my saliva coated penis to slip from her mouth and dragged me through to her bedroom again. In the cold light of day (and sober this time, though equally as horny), my opinion of Kirsty's looks had not changed she was still looking as hot as hell. As we moved over to the bed I made my effort to try and salve my conscience about the last night. "Kirsty, about last time, I, well I don't really want to hit you like that. OK?" She just smiled wickedly at me and wriggled out of her tight jeans and top and flung herself backwards onto her bed. "Come on babe, fuck me!" She was like a Siren, alluring and arousing and it would have required far more willpower than I had as a youngster to deny her, and so within minutes I was as naked as she and between her legs and rutting once again. It was breathless, urgent and animalistic this time, even harder than last. She did not ask me to hit her at least but soon I discovered Kirsty had even darker corners to her mind. As I rode her for all I was worth she panted and moaned beneath me, again wrapping her long legs around me, pulled me deeper. She reached around and locked fingers with me in a moment of closeness (or so I thought) but then she pulled my hands up to her neck and literally wrapped them around her own neck. Her next words nearly made me freeze. "Choke me! Choke me you bastard!" At once I was in turmoil. The girl was obviously a deviant, a pervert that got off on wild, kinky stuff, I was not naïve enough not to realise that even though I had never come across anyone remotely like this in my previous twenty one years of life. Her hands were on my wrists, guiding them, pressing my fingers against her slender neck and urging me to take up the strain myself. "Come on! Do it! Choke me! I'll get off even more! Do it!" I could not control myself, my thoughts were being powered by my dick and right then all it wanted to do was fuck this sexy babe. So what if she was a sexual freak that got off on being choked? If that was what it took to get my dick off then so be it. Her hands left mine and gently I began to press my fingers against her throat. I felt like I was in a trance, that it wasn't me doing this, that it was somebody else. I looked down through blurry eyes as Kirsty bucked under me and thrashed her way towards orgasm and listened as she implored me to choke her harder. To this I must admit being a little fearful but make no mistake I was exerting pressure on her throat and before too long her voice became raspier and her eyes showed signs of light duress. At that I broke contact and concentrated on fucking her, enjoying the sensations my cock was going through as I ploughed into her wet hole again but she would not let the issue lie. "NO! I want to cum with you choking me! I need it!" She reached down to grab my wrists again and brought them up to her neck and again forced them against her skin and held them there, almost choking herself as we continued to fuck erratically. By this point I was too far gone to stop anything, I physically needed to cum so I gripped her throat myself and urged the sperm up from my balls and felt myself actually shake as I climaxed inside her. I held on to her trying to choke her as softly as she would let me get away with and finally she came to a shuddering climax herself and we soaked the middle of her bed. When we eventually peeled our bodies apart she wiped the back of her hand across her bee stung lips and caught me in that intense gaze of hers. "Why are you fighting it? It's what I want. If I tell you to hit then hit me, if I tell you to choke then choke me, OK? I'll tell you if you are going too far. The truth is I doubt you could go too far for me, don't you understand that? I'll tell you what, you are a good fuck but if you want to be with me you need to learn what turns me on, be here tomorrow, same time and we can go even further than today. I'll give you the best orgasm of your life, after all I've given you the best two so far haven't I? If you don't like what I want then fine, don't bother showing up." I turned up the next day at the same time, no question I was addicted. Kirsty opened the door to her flat clad in only a white bathrobe that, as soon as she saw me, she undid the belt of and flashed her incredible body at me there and then in the landing before we went inside. I had visions of her being an exhibitionist as well as being a sexual freak! "Glad you came back, you obviously know a good thing when you fuck it! But from now on we do things my way or not at all understand? You must do, after all you came back." I nodded my reluctant ascent, it had been something of an internal struggle to come back there but in the end my dick had overruled my head. Once again we were in her bedroom and she was tearing off my clothes, we barely spoke as if we both knew we were no more than fuck buddies and the next fuck could be our last together. Once we were both naked and my cock was rising to the occasion she took the white belt from the loops of her robe and deftly tied one end in a knot to create a loop at the end. Without a word she popped this over her head and tightened it slightly and positioned it so that the loose end dangled on her naked back. From an identical white robe she pulled out a second belt and flung it to me then placed her arms behind her back. "Tie my wrists. Tightly, I don't want to be able to escape it." I didn't like where this was going but a god was I horny right then so I brushed my concerns aside. She flopped forward onto the bed and crawled awkwardly up it so that I was left with an aching beautiful view of her ass and pussy from behind. She spread her thighs apart and gave her instructions. "I want you to fuck me doggy style tonight, and while you are doing it pull on the belt around my neck, if you can't do it get out you can't get my pussy at all." Fucking freaky bitch! Still I had had a shit day and if that was what she wanted then fair enough, the thought of taking her from behind was more than compensation for participating in her weird shit. I climbed on to the bed behind her and without further ado I grabbed the end of the white robe belt, pulled it and thrust my straining cock once more deep inside her soaking wet pussy. I felt challenged by her, challenged to see if I was man enough to do what she asked. For a scary few moments it was like I was not in control of myself as I penetrated her roughly from behind, getting my cock deep within her while I tugged on her makeshift choke leash. Kirsty's long, dark hair was splayed out across her back and she jerked wildly below me almost as if she was going to cum, which surely could not be the case this quickly. However, I was to be proved wrong, she was coming and undoubtedly it was related to the fact that the white belt in my hand and around her neck was absolutely taut and the colour was rising in her face like nothing I had ever witnessed before. She slapped against the bed beneath her and grunted as best she could and shoved her ass hard back against me so that I was literally banging into her as I fucked her and within seconds I felt a warm, wet flood encircle my penis and knew she had cum and I instinctively released the belt. Kirsty flopped forward and left the makeshift noose around her neck as she gasped and exclaimed on her bed. "Oh my god! That was so fucking good! Oh! That was amazing! I want to do it again and again!" I was pretty stunned, not only had I never seen a girl cum as quickly as that before but it was becoming ever more apparent being put in dangerous situations was a massive turn on to her and already our relationship was already in a very strange place. "You've not cum yet have you baby, bet you really need to, don't you? Yeah, well you can in my mouth but only if you get that bag over there and wrap it around the top of my face while you do it!" I left her still trussed up and recovering and me and my raging erection got off the bed, crossed her room and picked up a clear plastic bag. Like a zombie I moved back to her and wrapped it over her face and head right down to her lips so that I could fit my cock in her mouth. I stood at the side of her bed and fed my penis into her mouth. She looked amazing, wrists tied together and still choked (but with no pressure on it) by the second belt around her neck. Her face was partially obscured by the plastic tight around her face, held in place by my hands and it messed her hair up but there was something oddly arousing about seeing her face squashed up like that against the plastic and knowing that she could now only breathe through the mouth I was about to fill with my cock. The fact her hands were helpless only added to the attraction. I was desperate to cum so I wasted no time in prising hr lips apart with my slippery, hard dick and pushing it deep inside her. I could see the breathe from Kirsty's nose mist the plastic somewhat, her features squashed beneath it as my cock slid deeper and deeper until I could feel the tip of my desperate cock press against the back of her throat. The gagged on it, her head jerking and bobbing but she was quite the cocksucker and managed to keep my full length inside her mouth, my hairy balls slapping back and forward against her delicate chin. She was struggling for breath, no surprise really when she must obviously have been getting so little air, especially after being choked as hard as I had done with the belt. But to be honest by that point I didn't care, all I wanted was to empty my bulging balls and if she wanted to be trussed up like this while I did it then more power to her. I was not gentle. The frustration of the day and the confusion I was feeling over this relationship taking form in the way I plunged my aching dick into her wet mouth and choked her on my dick. I was past the point of being careful and she lay on the bed grunting and getting her own bizarre form of pleasure from the situation she was in I finally came deep in her mouth. It was quite possibly the most cum that I have ever shot in my entire life. I felt my dick fire three blasts into Kirsty's mouth before I pulled out and fired three more over the plastic covered face. Hell I even squeezed the last drops from my shrinking dick out onto her face and enjoyed immensely the sight of three separate streams of cum slipping down the taut plastic. I knew even as I watched it that I would not see this girl again, she was just too weird for my tastes. This was confirmed even as I took off the plastic bad from her face then undid her wrists. "That was amazing babe. Come round tomorrow at the same time, I've got this idea of how you can fuck me while I'm being hung...." Like I say I've never seen her since but it was one hell of a few days, there's none so queer as folk, I guess.