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First Timer

By: Cal Y. Pygia



Russ was a handsome man with graying hair, a pleasant, kindly face, and a buffed build. When he smiled, he displayed even white teeth and deep, long dimples.

He was married. However, he enjoyed the company of men as much--sometimes more--than he enjoyed the company of his wife, not that he didn't love her. He did, very much. It was just that, sometimes--and more often than not of late--she took him for granted. When it came to sex, she didn't seem to care whether she satisfied him or not. She hadn't sucked his cock in months, and she acted as if it were a huge imposition to fuck him. Although Russ enjoyed anal intercourse on occasion, even the few times he'd asked her to indulge him in this manner had been met with a look that could have turned a lesser man to stone. She'd made it clear to him that "sodomy," as she insisted upon calling it, was "out of the question." So were water sports, spanking, and any other of the "perverse" practices that they'd enjoyed together in the earlier years of their marriage.

There was a solution, of course. Men--or submissive men, at least--were much more inclined to bare their asses for a sound spanking. They were also glad to suck cock. Some were even willing to let another guy piss on them--in their faces, down their chests, and over their bellies and pubes. A few submissive guys would even drink piss. Most of them would even spread their well-spanked, red and purple buttocks to take a thick, hard prick up their asses.

As a bisexual man, Russ had enjoyed sex not only with his wife, but also with several men over the course of his marriage. It was time, once again, to find a sub who'd do as he was told, no questions asked. In fact, this time, Russ might find someone who'd be willing to serve him--and to service him--as a sex slave.

While surfing the 'net, he'd come across a web site called Guyspank. The site allowed users to search for other spanking enthusiasts in their geographical regions. The guys were of various ages, as shown on their profiles, and they could be reached by email. Perusing the profiles a week ago, Russ had come across one he'd liked. The guy, Gary, was 55 years old, white, and weighed about 250 pounds; he was first-timer, seeking a dominant, aggressive man who would "put roses" in his "cheeks" and make him "blush." Russ had sent him a few emails, and they'd both liked what the other had written. They'd arranged to meet tonight, at a motel room for which they'd agreed to split the cost.

The motel was only a few blocks from the gym at which Russ normally worked out. Tonight, he'd told his wife that he was going to the gym; instead, he'd keep his rendezvous with Gary.

Russ arrived at the motel first. While he waited for Gary, he set out the implements he'd use, in addition to his hand, to administer the spanking: a ping pong paddle, a wide belt, and a thin belt. Next to the last item, he set a felt-tip marker on the bedside table. He'd use these instruments in the order he'd laid them out--first his hand, then the paddle, followed by the wide belt, and, for the grand finale, the thin belt, followed by the marker.

Those who lacked Russ' expertise in spanking sometimes assumed that the wider belt delivered more painful strokes than the thin belt. In reality, the narrower the implement, the more it hurt, because the lashes were more concentrated, covering less surface area. Thin belts bit cruelly, deeply, and very painfully into the buttocks. Invariably, they left welts and bruises. For this reason, Russ almost always employed them last.

Before he began to spank Gary, Russ would make Gary kiss his ass. He would also require Gary to kiss his cock and balls. Although Russ would enjoy these attentions, the main reason that he would insist upon them was that these actions would symbolize Gary's subservience to him. They would identify their roles. In receiving Gary's kisses upon his buttocks, cock, and ass, Russ would be asserting his dominance and superiority, just as Gary would be exhibiting his submission and inferiority. From the moment that Gary obeyed Russ' directive to kiss his ass and private parts, Gary would be assuming his proper place in their relationship, accepting his role as Russ' servant and slave. In the process, these simple acts of respect, adoration, and worship would elevate Russ to the position of Gary's lord and master. The spankings would reinforce these roles. Moreover, if the chemistry was right between them, Russ would order Gary to suck his cock.

Eventually, Russ might also command Gary to surrender his asshole and rectum to him as well. Once Russ had fucked him, whether with a dildo or his own cock, Gary would belong to him entirely; he'd become his property. Men seemed to sense the significance of allowing another of their sex to use their asses as cunts. They seemed to understand that such a surrender went beyond a merely sexual act. It was a total relinquishing of their manhood. Allowing another man to use them in such a manner made them less than men. It turned them into sluts. It made them male-bitches. In the process, this act made them objects--pieces of ass. After a man had allowed another guy to fuck him in the ass, he was forever and always a punk.

Russ doubted that Gary understood this consciously, but he was certain that he knew it on a much deeper, intuitive or instinctive level, for, in one of the earliest emails they'd exchanged, Gary had made it clear to Russ that he had never participated in anal intercourse, either as a giver or a receiver, and that he had no intention of doing so. Russ had pretended to accept Gary's refusal to engage in such behavior. In reality, he intended to strip away Gary's dignity, spanking by spanking, until, along with his self-respect, Gary had lost such inhibitions and actually begged Russ to commit the act that would forever make him Russ' bitch. Russ believed that he could succeed in his goal of fucking Gary in the ass by their fourth session together. After that, Gary would belong to him, body, mind, and soul.

A knock sounded on the door.

Russ answered it, smiling at the man whom he'd soon have naked over his knee. It was the first time they'd met. Russ had attached a photograph of himself to an email he'd sent Gary, but Gary had not reciprocated, saying he had no digitized picture to send in return. However, he had described himself as being an average-looking Caucasian, who was 55 years old, stood over six feet tall, and was somewhat overweight at 250 pounds, with small hazel eyes and brown hair, a circumcised cock that was about five and a half inches when erect, and an ass that was both smooth and soft without being flabby. His description, Russ saw, had been an honest one.

In the doorway, Gary extended his hand.

Russ shook it, inviting him into the motel room. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Gary smiled. "It's nice to meet you, too."

"I've been looking forward to our encounter."

"Me, too."

"I think you said you're a first timer?"

Gary remembered the email in which he'd made this confession. He felt as nervous now that he stood before Russ as he had when he'd first typed that admission in response to a query in the message from Russ to which he'd been replying. He gulped, nodding his head. "Yes, that's right."

"I'm experienced," Russ admitted, "but we're always first timers again whenever we meet someone for the first time, right?"

Gary nodded, offering Russ an uncertain smile. "I guess so."

Russ smiled in return. When he spoke, his voice was kind and casual. "Why don't we take off our clothes. I'd like to see you naked."

Gary swallowed, averting his eyes from the other's gaze. "Okay."

As he stripped out of his own clothes, Russ watched Gary undress; starting with his shirt. Gary had broad shoulders and a nicely sculpted, hairless chest. Russ smiled. He liked smooth men.

Next, Gary sat on the edge of the bed, removed his tennis shoes, and took off his socks. He tucked the white athletic socks inside his shoes. Then, standing, he unbuckled his belt and unfastened and unzipped his jeans.

Russ watched as Gary slid the denim down his sleek thighs, over his knees, and past his calves. Gary had well-shaped legs, neither overly muscular nor too slender. Stepping out of the dungarees, Gary draped them over the edge of the bed. He was now wearing only his underpants--"Y"-front white cotton briefs. Russ could see the small protuberance of Gary's genitals outlined through the thin material. At this point, Gary paused. He looked uncomfortable, as if he were having second thoughts.

Adopting an authoritative tone of voice, Russ said, "Keep going. I want to see your ass."

Gary took a deep breath. He seemed to realize that he'd reached a turning point, a point of no return. If he removed his underpants, exposing his private parts to another man, he'd have acknowledged his need to be dominated once and for all, finally and unequivocally. There'd be no fooling himself and no turning back. He'd never be able to say to himself again that he was merely "curious" about being spanked by another man.

"I'll be gentle," Russ said, his tone softer.

Gary hesitated another moment. Then, releasing his pent-up breath in a long sigh, he lowered his briefs past his ankles, stepped out of them, and revealed his complete nakedness to Russ, who smiled broadly.

"Wow! You have a gorgeous package," Russ complimented him. "Turn around, and let me see your bare ass."

Once again, Gary hesitated.

This time, his reluctance irritated Russ. "Do it!" he ordered.

Gary complied.

Russ, who was also naked, stepped behind Gary. His own cock was semi-erect from beholding Gary's smooth-bodied nudity, and he let the tip of his penis brush against the sleek mounds of the other man's buttocks. His hands cupped the smooth, soft cheeks of Gary's ass, squeezing the fleshly cushions in his tightening fingers. His thumbs and fingertips made deep indentations in the firm muscles. "Your ass is beautiful," Russ said.

"Thank you," Gary said, his tone hesitant and uncertain.

"It will be a joy to put roses in your cheeks and make you blush," Russ added, echoing the phrases that Gary had written in one of his early email messages. "What are we waiting for?" Russ released Gary's buttocks and sat on the edge of the bed. He patted one of his own naked thighs. "Lie across my lap," he directed.

Gary had made up his mind to go through with this, and he did as was told, lying down on the edge of the bed, ass up, his groin--and genitals--atop Russ' lap.

Russ' hand made circular motions upon Gary's backside, as if he were polishing the smooth mounds. "Your ass is gorgeous," he remarked. "Sleek and soft, without being flabby," he added, mimicking Gary's own emailed description of his buttocks, "it's as lovely as any woman's." It was as pretty an ass, Russ thought, as his wife's and, unlike his wife's bottom, Gary's ass was his.

"Thank you," Gary managed to answer.

The rotating, polishing motions continued as Russ caressed Gary's buttocks. "Relax and enjoy yourself," Russ advised. "You're too tense." His hands buffed Gary's sleek ass cheeks, swirling and whirling over the slopes, across the division of his cleavage, and up and down his flanks. His caresses were soft, gentle, tender. He placed the heels of his hands against the undersides of Gary's buttocks, stretching his fingers out over the smooth, vanilla mounds, and lightly raked his fingernails over the tight, firm flesh. The scratching sensation was extremely relaxing, and Gary sighed.

Next, Russ parted the cheeks of Gary's ass, disclosing the tiny dimple of his anus nestled between the satin-soft walls of his deep, steep cleavage. A thumb tenderly rubbed and stroked the tight ring of muscle around this diminutive portal into Gary's bowels, and Gary squirmed. Russ gave him a light slap on one of his buttocks. "Lie still," he commanded softly. "Relax and enjoy it. I'm not going to hurt you"--yet, he added to himself.

Gary lay still.

Russ jiggled the ball of his thumb within the circle of Gary's snug anus. Gently, he exerted pressure, and the tip of his thumb slid through Gary's asshole, to a depth of half the nail. Again, Gary squirmed, and, again, Russ delivered a smack to his ass, a little harder this time. "Lie still, I said!"

Gary obeyed.

Russ jabbed the tip of his thumb back and forth in an up-and-down motion, but was careful not to drive any more of the digit through Gary's anus. This time, Gary remained still. Satisfied, Russ removed his thumb and stroked the deep furrow between Gary's ass cheeks. "I love your ass," he said.

"Thank you."

"I'd love to fuck it," Russ declared.

"I don't do anal. I told you that."

Gary started to rise, but Russ placed a hand on his back, restraining him. "I know," he said, quelling Gary's fears. "Don't worry."

"I meant it," Gary insisted.

"I know. I told you I'd respect your limits, and I will. You need to trust me, Gary."

Mollified by these reassurances, Gary relaxed again, and Russ resumed his caressing and massaging of his ass. "If you'd try it, you'd like it, though," he suggested.

"I'm not going to try it."

"Your prostrate gland lies right above the base of your cock, accessible through your asshole," Russ lectured. "By massaging it, I could make you ejaculate without touching your cock."

"No, thanks."

"I'm not going to," Russ reassured Gary, "but just imagine a cock sliding back and forth inside your asshole; it would give you a hell of a prostate massage."

"That may be," Gary argued, "but I'm not interested. Can we drop the subject?"

"Sure." Russ smiled. He'd planted the seed. "That's not why we're here, anyway." He lifted his hand, keeping his fingers and thumb together and his palm flat, and brought it down, hard and fast, upon Gary's ass.

Gary leaped half a foot forward on the bed. "Ouch!" he cried.

His ass cheek bore the pink outline of Gary's hand.

"That's why we're here," Russ declared, and he smacked Gary's ass again, harder. 

First Timer



This was written on request from a friend, and is the first erotica I've written in a long time, votes and feedback are great!

-For you, Caroline

*

You tingle with nervous anticipation as you step onto the stage. You've been waiting for this night for almost two weeks. After submitting the application, there was the interview, a ton of paperwork, and several days of being 'shown the ropes', but you're finally ready to make your debut, it's your first real night as an exotic dancer at Night Moves gentlemen's club. You decided that with your slim frame you were never going to meet the classic stripper image, you went the other direction, a Goth-chic look; and you looked pretty damn fine, if you said so yourself. Your A-cup breasts pushed up in a quarter-cup leather brassier, your ass hugged by black lace boy shorts, setting of your clear, pale skin. You completed the look with dark makeup, shiny leather stilettos, and a black leather choker. 

You slowly strut your way onstage, wiggling your hips as you walk up and down, catching the crowd's interest before grabbing the shiny golden pole that's going to be your dance partner this evening. You swing and tease all around it, before grinding your almost-bare mound into it, hoping that the tingle you get from it will never get old. After a few minutes of dancing, collecting good tips and enjoying your first run, you decide it's time to do what 'Ginger' told you, and pick out a mark for a private dance. As you scan the room, you quickly pass over the over-eager frat boys, ditto with the dirty old men. Your eyes linger on a sexy female twenty-something in the corner before settling on him. 

He sits at a table in the middle of the room, staring at you with dark, intense eyes over his drink. You inhale sharply as you give him the once-over; he has brown hair, and his chiseled jaw is covered with a wisp of stubble. His body is mostly hidden by an expensive looking suit, the look of formality broken by his loosened tie, but you get a sense of lean muscle, like a runner or a swimmer. As you finish your set, twirling and grinding on the pole, your thoughts turn to how to get him to buy a private dance. True to form, you pick a direct approach. So, you finish your set with an inverted slide down the pole that you didn't know you could do, and after wiping off some sweat and getting redressed backstage, you head out to the floor. 

Being on the stage turned you on, but somehow being down here, off the pedestal, among the hungry eyes, heavy breathing and flushed faces of your audiences gets you going even more, and you take a moment to be thankful that black doesn't show wetness. Flirting and teasing your way across the floor, you finally reach his table. "Hey stud," you say in your huskiest voice, covering your nerves with more sultriness than you had meant to use "how'd you like to see me up close and personal?"

"Well, that depends," he starts, pausing for a sip of his drink "how personal?" You slowly bend down and put your lips right against his ear as you say "Very personal". He gives you a nod, and you silently grab him by his tie and lead him over to one of the private rooms, nodding at the host that you're going to be using it. 

As you walked into the room with your first client, you're struck by how much it looks like a tiny dance studio, aside from the mood lighting and the beat-heavy music coming from the speakers. The small room is lined with mirrors on all the walls, with a railing at hip height running around the room. You soak it all in, wanting to remember your first time on the job clearly. "Ahem!" the man snaps you out of your reverie, and you turn to see that he has already taken the room's only seat, a padded velvet thing chosen so that you can hang all over a client from just about any angle. 

The first song starts, and you find yourself swaying to the beat as you strut over to him, half lidding your eyes and giving him a smoldering look. You start your dance out quick and teasing, a light brush here, a stroke there, always moving, bending, shaking, and twirling, never where he expects you. You're loving this, the raw desire in his stare, the obvious hardness in his pants, and the sense of freedom and control your fast tease is giving you. Before you know it, you've worked off your bra, and the song has wound down, but to your pleasure he indicates that he wants another dance.

This song is much slower and sexier, and you know that it's time to show that you know how to really be sexy, really do well at this new job. You start to really go at it, straddling him and swing your hips, grinding yourself into his leg, teasing your nipples inches from his face. Maybe it's the newness of it all, but you know that you have to be leaving a wet spot on his leg and you grind into it, and you can see the hunger in his eyes get stronger and stronger. You start to stand up, intending to turn around and grind your ass into him more, when he grabs your face and kisses you, hard. 

For an instant, you go with it, caught up; but then you realize what's going on, and start to pull back, inhaling as you catch your breath to scold him. Suddenly, there's a sharp blow to your midsection, and you crumple up, falling over in pain. As you double over your stomach, you realize dimly that he has punched you, and you've lost your wind. While you're gasping for breath, he pushes the chair seat first against the wall, before unceremoniously dropping you over the back, the second blow again winding you. You struggle feebly, but he's stronger, and you still can't get your breath while he ties your wrists behind you with what feels like his belt, and after a brief tearing sound, binds your ankles to the chair legs with something. 

The chair back is just tall enough to keep your legs straight, and to keep you from getting any leverage as he walks in front of you and loops his tie through your faux-Goth collar before tying it to the rail on the wall, rendering you completely helpless. In this position you can feel that your pussy and ass, protected by only the thinnest layer of fabric, are completely exposed to him, and you feel his gaze drilling into you.

Your breath is finally coming back, and you draw in a lungful to scream, even though you know the rooms are soundproofed, but before you can you feel your panties pull at the sides before tearing painfully off of you. He clamps his hand over your mouth for a moment while he drags the panties up your cleft, which despite your current fear is still soaking wet, and then he shoves the sodden panties into your mouth, pushing them deep enough that any attempts to push them out would just result in gagging. He chuckles as he takes a moment to look at your exposed body, before starting to roughly run his hands over your exposed tits, tweaking a nipple that is still rock hard; and while you're still afraid, the gropes and tweaks are still running through you like shocks. 

Suddenly, he slaps your tits, and you squeak with pain around the gag. He gets behind you and starts raining down firm slaps all over your erogenous zones, moving from your breasts to your ass, thoroughly reddening each cheek, and finally slapping your pussy, his fingertips striking with a 'snap' that makes your back arch and your eyes water. As he repeats the cycle, you realize that not all of your moans are from the pain, as the hot blush from the blows makes your nipples and pussy throb, and when he finishes with a firm smack to your clit, your eyes almost roll back in pleasure. 

He seems to be uninterested though, immediately dipping first one, then two fingers into your pussy; which is, shamefully, dripping wet. He starts to roughly plunge the fingers in and out of you, stopping every few strokes to deliver an open handed smack across both of your ass-cheeks and your pussy. Despite your fear and your desire to escape, he's getting to you, and it's all that you can to not hump back into his fingers at times. He slowly withdraws his fingers, and you catch yourself nearly moaning in disappointment at their absence. 

Now you feel him scooping the moisture out of your pussy and rubbing it all over your crotch, stopping briefly to rub some under your nose, so that all of your short, panicked, horny breaths come with the scent of yourself. You hear his fly unzip, and his pants hit the ground, and then he walks around in front of you, cock in hand. Your eyes go wide as you see it, he's a little longer than you're used to and he's thick. He stands in front of you, and repeatedly slaps your face, grinning down at you. Finally, he walks back behind you and begins to saw his cock up and down the crack of your ass; you can feel the heat coming from his throbbing cock, even with the spankings he gave you. 

His cockhead slowly traces down your crack, and you tense in fear as it halts at the crinkled pink ring of your ass. He chuckles briefly at your discomfort before slowly angling it down, aligning it with your dripping hole. Suddenly, he starts to force his cock into you, your cunt stretching to accommodate his girth; you've never been this full. You scream into your panties, but he doesn't stop for a moment until you finally feel his balls rubbing your clit. He groans in pleasure at the grip your slick sex has on him, and thankfully you feel yourself starting to become adjusted to his size. 

Still, you're not ready for it when he starts to slam his cock in and out of you, gripping your hips painfully as he rams his cock home into you again and again. As you adjust, though, you begin to lose yourself in the sensations coming from your pussy, squealing in time with his thrusts, especially when he starts to spank you again on the down strokes. Then, he slows and bending over your back, he takes a nipple in each hand, using them as leverage to pull you further onto him, and your back arches from the shock of pleasure that you get from the pain. 

You know that if he continues that you're going to cum, and though it should be terrible, by this point you'd beg for it if he made you. He seems to sense this, and standing up straight, he begins to pound you again, each time going so deep you feel like he may never come out again, the angle rubbing your g-spot in a way you've never felt before. There's a rushing sound in your ears as your orgasm approaches, this feeling coming on like nothing you've ever felt, and as you reach the tipping point he reaches below you and grabs your clit, pinching it firmly between his fingers. 

You explode into orgasm, reaching a climax unlike anything you've ever felt, you are tossed about in a squall of pleasure, gasping and writhing against your bonds as the orgasm ravages you. It lasts for what seems like hours, though as you begin to wind down you realize it must have been only a minute or two. Your orgasm and the lack of oxygen have left you dizzy, and you sag over the chair as you feel him spray his hot cum all over your back, groaning with his climax. You feel him untie you, and then take the gag out of your mouth. He slumps you into the chair, and the last thing you see before you slip away into exhaustion is him slipping you panties into his pocket, and walking out the door.



First Timer



I checked my phone and the time was only six in the evening, Traci had asked me to go to the club with her. But I didn't feel like getting dry humped by a bunch of strange guys.

So I'd told her no, and here I was regretting it because I had nothing to do, and it was Friday.

I decided to head for the pool, of Traci's and I's apartment complex.

I pulled off my t-shirt and rifled through my dresser to find my skimpy bathing suit.

I finished undressing and started tying the top in place, the black material felt nice against my skin.

I enjoyed the feel of it as I slowly slid it up my legs and over my ass.

I checked myself out in the bathroom mirror, liking what I saw.

I'd always loved the look of my firm, and toned body, and swimming helped me keep it.

I quickly ran a brush through my long hair, and then grabbed a towel and made my way out of our apartment and towards the elevator. 

That's where I first saw him, I'd pushed the button and was waiting on the elevator doors to open.

When they opened he almost bowled me over since he couldn't see me over the box he was carrying, I squeaked and jumped out of his way. Then blushed bright red, who the hell squeaks?!

I wanted to melt into the floor right then, but he glanced around the box at me and his eyes made their way up my legs, slowly over the towel covering my firm stomach and full breast.

By this time, my blush had gotten worse.

He threw the cutest smile at me and apologized and all I could do was smile stupidly and mumble no harm done.

"What's your name?" He asked as he adjusted the box so he could better support its weight.

"Luna, how about you?" I'd never seen him before, so I was wondering if he was a new tenant. I wouldn't mind seeing him again... 

His dark eyes finally settled on my face and I felt a tingle run through me.

"I'm Ace, I'd love to stay and chat, but this box is getting kind of heavy. I'll hopefully catch you later." He smiled at me again and walked down the hall, my eyes trailing after him before I stepped into the elevator and pushed the button.

If I was going to see him later, and that must mean he was moving in. 

I was smiling as I made my way to the pool, I pushed the glass door open and found myself a chair to set my towel on.

No one else was in here, so it was nice to be able to have the pool to myself for a while, I threw my towel onto the chair and headed for the deeper side of the pool.

I slipped into the water and sank to the bottom of the pool, just enjoying the feel of the cool water against my skin.

I heard a splash and made my way to the surface, feeling a bit cross now that someone had ruined my silent time to myself.

I looked around for the other swimmer but didn't see anyone and then I felt someone grab my foot and pull me under.

I shot my way back to the surface and to the edge of the pool and glared at the head that popped up laughing.

"Don't worry, I won't drown you, darlin'." Ace said teasingly.

I almost drowned myself right then, but instead I smiled and swam over to him.

"Well I hope not, I just met you and all. I didn't think I'd annoy you that quickly." I stuck my tongue out at him, and he wrapped his arm around me.

Pulling me close against him, his face less than an inch away from mine, I shivered when I felt his breath tickle my neck.

"I don't think I could kill you, you're honestly too sexy for me to even think about that, so distracting and all with your delicious looking body." He ran his lips softly over the skin of my neck and I thought I was dying.

I felt the tingle start again except stronger this time, starting in my thighs and making its way up my stomach. He'd pulled us into the shallower water and I hadn't even noticed, as my assaulted my neck and senses.

I felt my back push into the wall as he bit my ear softly and his hands trailed down my sides. He whispered against my neck, asking how old I was.

I trembled as his hand slowly made its way up my thigh.

"I'm nineteen," I whispered, my eyes were closed and my breathing was speeding up slowly, with every inch that his hand made further and further up my thigh.

His lips trailed slowly up the side of my neck and across my cheek they barely touched mine, "Kiss me," he said.

And I did, I pressed my lips to his and wrapped my arms around his neck. I felt his tongue slowly slip between mine and caress my tongue, inviting me to play. I shyly slipped my tongue into his mouth, exploring cautiously.

Who knew my first French kiss would be with a guy I just met...

He pulled away and smiled at me and I felt his hand rub against my pussy through my skimpy bathing suit.

I gasped and he pressed his lips again to mine, he kissed then bit my lip softly. 

My hand started to move to his but he grabbed it with his free hand and pinned it against the pool wall, his lips made their way to my neck and bit playfully. I moaned softly and thought about what was going on, what was I doing?!

I was letting a stranger touch me, and enjoying it.

I couldn't do this though, I couldn't let my first time be with a stranger in the pool!

Or could I... his fingers started to slip into my bottoms and I almost panicked. 

"Wait, wait..." I whispered, and I felt his hand freeze and his dark eyes looked into mine questioningly.

"I.. I can't do this, not like this...I don't want my first time to be... " I trailed off and couldn't look at him, he probably wouldn't even want to talk to me again after this.

He laughed and pulled his hand away from my thighs and wrapped both his arms around me, "Look at me."

I made myself look at him.

"Would it really be your first time?" I nodded, my face going hot and looked down again.

"Well, then the pool definitely won't do." He smiled at me again and kissed me softly.

I sighed and leaned into him, I liked this way too much, and I wondered who this stranger was.

He made me want to just melt into him and let him have his way with me...



First-Timer



She was thirty-seven. Not that old, not that young. She was generally a happy person, but lately, she'd felt out-of-sorts. No specific reason that she could pinpoint. Job was good, she and her husband were in a fairly good place. She found herself being more nostalgic than usual, watching 80s movies, looking up old high school friends on Facebook, crying at episodes of Glee. She listened to her students joke after rehearsal each day, and enjoyed watching the camaraderie they shared, and that they shared with her. As their director, they felt they could trust her, and spoke in a way and with an honesty they probably didn't have with their parents. It was refreshing and enticing, how free they were with their words, and with their bodies. Although she knew it was wrong, there were days she went home and fantasized about being touched by their young strong hands, feeling their smooth chests against hers, teaching them about lust.

One day, after a particularly long week, and a particularly long rehearsal, one of her star actors came to sit beside her as they packed to leave. He had joined her group only this year, and although he was new to performing, he was a natural. He was a good-looking kid—six feet tall, blond hair, piercing blue eyes. Everyone in the group loved him; we all had more fun when he was there. He began to rub her neck, because he could tell she was tense. Although she tensed a little when he first started, she quickly relaxed under his nimble fingers. She allowed herself to enjoy the massage, but soon realized that everyone had left, and they were alone.

"Wow, thanks. I needed that, but I have to go." She stood and gathered her things, said goodnight, and headed out the door. She stood at the entry, waiting for him to leave so she could lock up. As he passed by, he bent to give her a kiss on the cheek.

She startled. "What was that for?"

"Because I didn't think you'd let me do this." He pulled her to him and kissed her firmly on the lips. She resisted, but it faded as her knees went weak. 

"Stop. We can't do this. I'm your teacher."

"No, you're not. You're my director. I'm not in any of your classes." He kissed her again, this time more forcibly, sliding his tongue into her mouth. As he kissed her, her mind whirled—he was so young, just eighteen, but he felt so good, he tasted so sweet, like chewing gum, and his young arms felt so good holding her. 

"We can't. I'll lose my job!" As he kissed her cheek again, then moved to her neck, he whispered, "It will be our secret." 

He seemed to sense what could push her over the edge as he lightly kissed her neck, his arms holding her. She could feel his heat, his need, but was afraid to admit that she needed him to. At that moment, she realized what was missing. This excitement, this newness, this abandon. He kissed her again, this time pressing his whole body against her. 

She weakly pleaded, "No . . ." and as she pulled away, he looked into her with his eyes, the piercing blue eyes that had jumped off the stage at her during his first audition. She could no longer resist. She pressed herself into him, and for the first time, wrapped her arms around him. Their kiss became deeper, more lustful, as they explored each other's mouths.

He pulled away, and she felt her stomach lurch. She couldn't believe what she was about to do, but at the same time, wanted it so badly. He led her down the aisle, pausing at the light board to dim the overly bright stage lights, and then continued to pull her down to the stage. She sat on the edge, and he stood in front of her, between her thighs, and kissed her again. She could feel how much he wanted her, and as he kissed her, she slid her hands behind him and down his back, onto his firm, young ass and pulled him closer. He responded by pushing her back onto the stage and climbing on top of her, pressing himself into her. She pulled him down, savoring his kisses and feeling his warmth pressing into her. She could feel herself getting wet in anticipation. As they continued to kiss, he unbuttoned her blouse and began kissing down her body, savoring each part of skin. As he reached her breasts, he nibbled at them through her lacy bra, and her nipples hardened at his touch. He continued to nuzzle at them, then slid his hand under her back to release her bra, freeing them for him to take fully in his mouth. She moaned quietly as he took her whole nipple in her mouth, and she felt her wet panties sticking to her. He then slid down her bare stomach, kissing and licking every inch of her, then sliding down to her jeans, which he deftly unbuttoned, sliding them down into a puddle on the floor. He slid his hand down to her wet panties and pressed his finger into them, feeling her need. She pulled his head up to her mouth again and kissed him again fiercely. 

She pushed him away from her onto his knees, saying "I want to see you." 

She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his smooth young chest, with just a trace of light brown hair. She slid her hands down his body, feeling the smooth muscles underneath, feeling his pounding heart just below his soft skin. She stopped at his jeans, hesitating. In her mind, she knew this was the point of no return. If she opened his jeans, she knew they would make love, and frankly, she didn't care anymore. She wanted him more than anyone she had ever wanted in her life. She unbuttoned his jeans and released his hard cock. She took it into her mouth and slid all the way down the shaft—she choked a little from its size, but she wanted to take it all. He moaned, and she felt him quiver, which encouraged her to move up and down quickly, tasting every inch of him. He pulled away from her and kissed her again, pushing her back down on to the stage. 

He slid off the edge of the stage and pulled her to him, burying his face in her pussy, licking at her slit through her soaked panties. She almost screamed from the contact of his warm tongue on her, and she quickly begs for him to make her cum. He tugs her panties to the side and slides his tongue deep inside her. She lifts her hips to meet his mouth, relishing the feel of his young mouth on her. She bucks her hips against him as he slides his tongue in and out, swirling it around, enjoying all her juices as they flow out of her. She feels her orgasm building, and she moves more quickly, urging him on with her movements, moans of pleasure escaping from her throat. He begins moving his tongue more furiously, bringing her to an overpowering orgasm, and she practically screams as it tears through her. Her juices spurt out of her and he laps them up eagerly, milking her climax as she descends, shuddering. She pulls him to her and kisses him deeply, tasting herself on his tongue. 

"Take me", she whispers into his mouth, kissing him even more deeply, sliding her hand to his hard cock, waiting to be used. 

"But . . ." he whispers, still kissing her. She pauses, and looks deeply into his beautiful blue eyes, questioning him. "I've never . . ." 

She laughs quietly, realizing that this young man was a virgin—although you would never know it. She kisses him again deeply, and smiles. She pushes him back onto the stage and climbs on top, grinding her wet pussy into him, making him feel how much she wants him. He lays back, enjoying the contact, as she runs her hands and her mouth up and down his young body. He takes her breasts in her hands and squeezes them, fingering the nipples into hardness, then taking them into his mouth, flicking them lightly with his tongue, making her grind against him more. They kiss again, and she can feel his need for her. She can feel his hard cock pressing against her pussy, but he hesitates. He looks into her eyes, and they both realize the sin they are going to commit. She presses against him and his cock slides inside her, and he gasps as the sensation hits him. He cums almost immediately, and she pauses as he catches his breath, keeping him inside of her, slowly rotating her hips, encouraging him to harden again.

They kiss gently as they bask in their achievement, and she feels him harden inside her. She begins to move up and down slowly at first, enjoying the feeling of his young cock inside her. He places his hands on her hips and helps her move up and down as she sits upright, riding his cock like a wild bull, trying to push it inside her as deeply as she can. Her movements become faster and faster and she comes closer to another orgasm, and she can feel him reaching one as well. As her pussy explodes into another mind-blowing orgasm, she feels him explode inside her, and her pussy milks his cum out of his cock. She collapses onto his chest, and they both lay, destroyed and satisfied, as he shrinks and slips out of her. She kisses him once more, long and lingering, then stands to dress. He rolls on his side, watching her with his piercing eyes, and she can't help but smile. When she finishes, she kisses him once more, then whispers in his ear, "Turn out the lights and make sure the door is locked when you leave". She walks up the aisle and out of the theatre.



First Timer Gets It In The End



I married a few years out of college to a girl I met there. Last year I attended a conference in Chicago. I was staying in a nice hotel that had privileges to the adjoining fitness center. In between sessions, I headed over and lifted some weights before taking in the men's only sauna. 

I had only been in there for a few minutes before three guys came in and sat down on the benches. As the wooden benches were extremely hot, I noticed one guy sat over in the corner on his towel while the two older gentlemen just sat down with their towels around their waist. About ten minutes later, the two older men left.

I was really unwinding as the sweat poured out of my body. My eyes focused on the floor when I seemed to catch movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced up and saw that the guy who remained was gently stroking his cock which was swelling in his hand. His dick grew stiffer and stiffer until it stood on its own without his touching it. Then it seemed to jump as if on command, nodding up and down. My eyes darted upward and I saw his gaze fixed on me. His eyes locked on mine as a smile spread across his face.

My heart started pounding. I had never been attracted to another guy. In high school guys took showers together and I sometimes mentally compared the size of my dick to others but I never thought anything else about it. I grabbed my towel and hurried out the door. I took a cool shower letting my body temperature return to normal as well as the thoughts which were running through my mind.

I toweled off, took a few sips of cold water from the fountain, before peering back into the sauna through the glass window. My sauna partner was gone leaving only a wet spot on the bench where he had been seated. I figured since he was gone, I might as well return and finish my sauna. I sat down once again, closed my eyes as I leaned against the wooden wall and relaxed as the hot air surrounded my body. A few minutes later I heard the door open and felt the bench give as someone sat next to me. When I opened my eyes, I saw it was the same guy who earlier had been stroking his erection.

Perhaps I should have jumped up but I seemed frozen in place as he once again sat on his towel, his hand returning to his cock which lay proudly across his leg. Within minutes it again began to swell and begin to point to the ceiling. Try as I might, I could not keep my eyes from the dick which seemed to rock back and forth. As my eyes fixed on his cock, his leg moved over and touched mine. A surge shot through my body as my heart again pounded in my chest. I was old enough to know what was going on here but could not seem to move. 

As I debated in my head whether to leave again or see where this might lead, I watched as his hand moved through the folds of my towel, finding my dick which had also begun to swell. My cock was rock hard and he smiled again knowing the effect he was having on me. He pumped my cock with his hand as I closed my eyes letting his hand wander over my cock, stopping occasionally to fondle my balls. I felt my legs spread almost involuntarily as he gently stroked my manhood. Then I felt his fingers touch my cheek. As I opened my eyes I saw his face moving closer to mine. I knew I should jump up but I couldn't. Within seconds he had closed the distance to my lips. Here I was kissing another man, his lips pushing against mine. In my wildest dreams I could have never thought this could be happening. His tongue then pushed past my lips and he began kissing me like I often kissed my wife. At first I tried to keep my lips stiff but eventually began to relax and I felt I almost enjoyed his tongue which seemed to explore my mouth. It was much firmer than when my wife and I kissed.

He pulled back and I looked into his eyes. He reached down and began to toy with my nipple, pinching it between his fingers softly and then much harder until I thought my dick would explode. He let go of my nipple and took his finger and trailed it along my lip before he pushed it in my mouth. Leaning forward he whispered in my ear that I had a very pretty mouth. I could not believe what I was allowing this guy to do as I stared at the door fearing someone would walk through and see us together.

He asked if I had a room at the hotel and I heard myself telling him yes and even telling him the room number. He said to go up and he would meet me in a while. I headed to the showers again and rushed to my room. On the elevator and once back in my room, my heart was racing as I thought about what I had done and what might happen if he came up. I made myself a drink from the mini-bar to settle my nerves. Maybe he would forget the number. Maybe he wouldn't come.

Just then there was a knock at my door. I opened it and he walked through setting his gym bag down on the floor. He was dressed in an oxford shirt and trousers looking very differently than the nude figure who just minutes ago had seduced me in the sauna. He seemed to gaze at me, taking in his prize dressed in my gym shorts and t-shirt from earlier. As I released the door and it closed behind us he reached up his hand and cupped my face as his lips once again moved against mine. I felt myself seem to grow limp as he pushed my body up against the wall, pressing his pelvis hard against mine.

He reached down and pulled the bottom of my t-shirt, breaking our kiss as he tugged it over my head. I felt his other hand reaching down and pushing both the shorts and the briefs off in one motion. He had slipped off his loafers and his foot took my shorts the rest of the way down. He moved me away from the wall and I stepped free of my shorts. I opened my eyes and saw that I was standing naked before this stranger, still clothed except for his shoes.

One hand again stroked my cock and balls and the other twisted my nipple. It shot pains to my dick but I found I liked it. He reached up and returned his finger to my mouth as both of our tongues wrapped around it. When he removed it, his tongue wrestled with mine and I felt him reach back with both hands as he grabbed my ass cheeks in his hands. His right hand slid along my ass and I felt to his finger probe at my asshole. It was wet from our mouths as he gently pushed it into my opening. Deeper and deeper it went as he would pull his finger almost out before he would push it back.

After a few minutes he removed it and rested his hands on my shoulder pushing me down to the floor. When my knees were resting on the carpet, he undid his trousers and pushed them down. He didn't have on any underwear and his dick was already thick and big as it came into view right before my face. I knew exactly what he wanted and I knew I wanted it too. He again told me what a pretty mouth I had and he wanted me to kiss his dick with it. I brought my lips to his head. It was so soft and tasted just a little salty taste from the juice that seemed to come from its head.

He asked me to take his cock in my mouth and I complied. Here I was kneeling naked before a man, taking his dick in my mouth. His hands were on each side of my head guiding it on his rock hard pole. I felt saliva running out the corners of my mouth as I used my tongue to trace the shaft. My right hand stroked his cock as I took my dick in the other. I'm not sure how long I sucked on his dick before he pulled me up and once again pushed his tongue deep into my mouth.

He walked me over to the bed as we both lay down without ever seeming to break our embrace. His hand ran along my cock and balls and again wandered down to my ass and my asshole. I found myself opening my legs, inviting him to do what he wanted. He trailed kisses down my chin to my nipple taking it between his teeth. It hurt as he pulled at my nipple between his teeth, stretching almost pulling my body off the bed. His mouth trailed down my belly, his tongue pushing into my belly button before he found my dick and swallowed it whole.

My whole dick disappeared in his mouth which was warm and wet. I'm not sure my wife or any other girlfriend had ever given me better head. His hand fed both balls to his mouth which bathed them as I felt his body shift off the bed and begin tonguing the area between my balls and my ass. He flipped me over on my stomach as his tongue focused on my asshole and began to push into my rear. I had never had anyone lick me there. I felt his fingers push into my asshole as his tongue slid over my balls. As he fucked me with his fingers, I raised up on my knees and elbows, pushing back at him each time he pushed in with two and three fingers.

I tuned my head to the wall and saw our reflection in the dresser mirror. It was if I were watching a video of someone else. I saw him reach over and reach into the pocket of his trousers which were on the floor beside him. He took out a package and ripped it open with his teeth. My heart fluttered again as I saw him take the rubber and begin the slide it down his dick. He was going to fuck my ass. I knew there was no way that big thing could go in my ass no matter how much I enjoyed what he was doing with his fingers.

He had continued to tell me how much he liked my ass and what a firm butt I had. He reached around and grabbed my dick between his fingers. He removed his fingers from my butt and slipped up my back as he whispered in my ear, "You loved sucking on my dick didn't you?" I didn't say anything back as he again said, "You loved the feeling of my dick between your lips didn't you? Licking on my dick. Tell me how much you loved my dick." I couldn't believe it was me when I responded back, "Yea, I loved it." 

When I said it, his tongue pushed into my ear. He whispered again, "Are you my little bitch today?" When he said the word 'bitch' I felt a shot run through my body. I had sucked on his dick and I let him stick his fingers in my ass. I had done things I never imagined. Opening my eyes and looking back in the mirror I saw this man stretched over my body....me. He asked again, this time louder and more firmly, "Are you my little bitch boy?" This time I answered, "Yes, I'm your bitch." "What are you?" he again asked. "I'm your bitch. I love your cock. Fuck me with your cock."

I felt the head of his dick push at my asshole as I tensed up. He slapped my ass as I felt his dick slide in a little more. Each time I tightened he slapped a cheek taking my mind off the invading pole. Then in one push it seemed to slip in and he stopped. He didn't move as he reached up and twisted on my nipple and then stroked my cock. He moved slowly back and forth. I looked in the mirror as I saw his cock moving back and forth in my ass. He never pushed it all in yet my ass seemed full with his cock. After a few minutes of him slowly pushing back and forward my ass seemed on fire and I wanted more. I pushed back at him until I felt his big balls slapping my ass. He bit into my shoulder as he encourage me saying, "That's right, take my dick, take all my dick." I had never felt the feeling that was rushing through my body. Too soon, he pulled out with a popping sound as my asshole felt empty with his absence. He rolled me over on my back, removed the rubber, and without him touching his cock, it spurted across my body. 

I felt its warm splash on my cheek, across my stomach, as he aimed the remainder on my dick. His cock twitched as the reminder of hot come dripped on my dick which hardened in a pool of warm semen. I reached down and pulled on my dick just a couple of strokes before it too shot across my stomach. He leaned down, kissed me gently on the lips, before he walked off to the bathroom. I heard the water running to the shower as I seemed to drift off to sleep.

When I opened my eyes minutes later, he was standing nearby toweling his hair dry. His dick was now hanging limp between his legs. I'm not sure why I did it but I slid off the bed, crawled over to where he was standing and took his still wet member between my lips. I sucked on his dick as it swelled between my lips. This time taking it out and licking its length letting it rub across my lips and face. I stroked the cock placing it back in my mouth. I rubbed his balls as they tightened and I felt his dick harden. I knew he was going to cum as he grunted and I felt his hot semen splash on the back of my throat. I tried to swallow it but cum ran down my chin and as I removed his dick from my mouth he sent a couple more spurts on my face.

He took his towel and wiped my spit off his cock, dressed, and leaned down and kissed me once on the mouth before he opened the door and left. There I was sitting on the floor. Naked with dried come across my chest and crotch and a warm stream running down my face.

It's been a year since that happened to me. I haven't been with another man. But every time I fuck my wife with her on all fours, I imagine it's me with a hot dick pushing between my cheeks. I think about it a lot and I know that soon I will have to find another dick to suck. I want to be somebody's bitch and let them take me and have me worship their cock. I suppose once you've had it there's simply no going back.



First Timer Gives In



We had been emailing for a couple of weeks. He posted an ad on CraigsList Casual Encounters for a submissive female.

That's me.

Or at least I hoped so. I've had this fantasy forever about a strong dominant male, but with my strong personality, all I attract are the wimps.

I'd held him off for a few weeks with dirty emails and links to erotic stories that I liked. I let him give me orders about my masturbation and tested the waters a little. I was only in this for sex, but I'm still enough of a snob to not be attracted to a moron. So I made him talk to me a little. 

Then talking time was over. We decided to meet last night at his house. I had an hour and a half after work to get ready and there was a lot of real estate to shave, if you know what I mean..... I made sure to check everywhere though. Doing things to bring my partner pleasure is my strongest motivation in sex. It's my one time to be the giver.....

So I went overboard. The pedicured feet and heels, the mini mini skirt that would have been indecent anywhere else, the long shiny straight hair – like silk to drape over your chest and stomach and long enough to wrap your hands in. Light make up though – just pink glossy lips and no perfume per his request.

I showed up right on the dot at eight and walked up to the door. I hesitated outside just for a second, but he was there and opened the door to let me in.

We stood in the entryway and he smiled and he stepped back to look me over. He told me how beautiful I looked and that I was perfect.. Then he pulled me in for a hug and ran his hands over my back and pulled me in tight. We went in to the living room and made ourselves comfortable on the couch.

He poured us each a glass of wine and we made some small talk. But small talk like I'd never made before. It was a bit surreal to be having the conversation, which was part of the appeal. I was telling deep dark secrets to a complete stranger at least 15 years older than me in a well lit living room like it was no big deal. I felt like a complete slut. He was just being nice – chatting and putting me at ease and all I wanted to do was unzip his pants and feel his dick.

We talked about hair pulling and order taking and he showed me the red leather restraints with the fur on the inside and let me play with them. He mentioned a bag of toys upstairs. I was soaking wet at that point.  

The small talk lasted for about 15 minutes. Right up until he demonstrated his favorite way to pull hair. Slide your hand right up under the neck and grab and twist the hair right at the scalp, in case you're wondering. My panties were already soaked at that point, but I swear I made a puddle on his couch.

Then he pulled my face right up to his. Remembering my submissive role and what I'd read about it online I knew I wasn't allowed to kiss him without permission. He waited for a moment, then growled "kiss me" and of course I did. 

THANKFULLY he was an excellent kisser. I really hate the other kind. 

He was content to just kiss for a minute, but I had needs at that point and needed some attention. I tried to tell him with my body, my breasts, my hips, my hands. We stopped for a second and he attached the restraints to my hands. The carabiner clip that locked them together jangled nicely. I really liked the feel of them on my wrists. 

We kissed for a few more minutes and I swung my leg over to straddle him on the couch. He started spanking me a few times and our bodies started to move together. I could feel him getting hard and I leaned back to put my tits in his face. That seemed to be a very good idea. I leaned my head back and rocked against him as he squeezed my breasts and I moaned out loud. 

That was enough, it seemed. He pulled me up off him and led me upstairs to the bedroom. He left enough light to see by but nothing glaring and came back to where he'd left me standing. I was very anxious to see the dominant side in action.

He stood facing me and said "Take off your top." Then the same for the bra. I had told him earlier about my pencil erasers and how they needed attention. And I was proving it now. They were screaming for his hands and his mouth and he didn't disappoint. I think we were both a little amazed at how hard I like to have them squeezed and twisted and bitten.

Then he spun me around to face away from him and reached around to play with my breasts some more as he kissed my neck and shoulders. He talked to me in a low and firm voice. Letting me know what a good slut I was and that my reward was coming. My hands were bound behind me, and I reached for his cock. He said "No" into my ear "not until I'M ready" so I just ran my hands up his inner thighs. But of course I managed to brush his dick with my fingers, and earned a hard spank for it. And then a few more. It was a huge turn on for me to feel him get excited with every swat. Especially when he really got wound up and gave me these "reminders" I'm sitting on now. But that's later...

Then he put a blindfold on me and lowered me to my knees. Mmmmmm. This is what I love.... I asked him to release my hands to let them help, but he wanted just my mouth. And believe me, he got it. 

I love cock.

I love cock in my mouth.

When I hear other girls bitch and moan about giving blow jobs, I secretly smile. Boys have faith – there really are girls out there like me.  

So bound and blindfolded with him watching from above, I started to suck. Up and down and run the tongue around and around. And then the balls. Yes, I love them too. I ran my tongue around each one and then softly and gently took them in my mouth. And then I ran my tongue around them again. I buried my face in his balls and nuzzled the base of his cock. Then it was time to take it all in my mouth again. I started a little suction which went over well, and then I started a lot more suction. I get off so much on sounds and reactions and that really got one from him.

Suddenly he grabbed me and pulled me up and laid me face down on the bed. He laid on top of me and stuck his fingers in me from behind. I automatically began to move under him and when the headboard started to hit the wall, I warned him that I was just getting warmed up.  He swatted me a few more times and then brought me up again. 

He laid me back across the bed the other way to save his poor wall from some serious dents. He also got out his bag of toys. He started spanking me with his hand. First soft then hard then very hard. All over my ass and the backs and insides of my thighs. Even on my pussy which was as bare as everything else. Then he got what I think was a paddle. He used at least 2 other items to spank me with, but what I saw afterward on the dresser was a paddle and a hairbrush. The hairbrush had ridges along the edges and I think that's what gave me the long thin welts I'm sitting on as I type this. Perfectly done I think – enough to remember with every movement but no real lasting pain. 

It did hurt getting them though. I'm quite sure from his technique that he'd been doing this for a long long time. He knew how to do it soft and how to do it hard and how to do it just harder than I wanted but not hard enough to make me speak up to stop it. I bit back a few reactions, but then also let him know he was hurting me. I mean that's the hot button for a Dominant sadist, they want to know about the pain they inflict. And it hurt so good at that point.

Then he ran his fingers like claws over my ass and thighs. I almost came right then.  My whole body tensed up. This was the kind of expertise and experience I wanted.

He spanked me for a good long time. And because of our previous email correspondence and dirty talk I knew he liked it and like the role playing piece. So I started to beg for his cock. It's nice to do something not only because you do really need it, but because it's what your partner wants. That's the part of submission that really speaks to me. Use my body to make you feel good, but also let me please you because I get off on that part of it too. I love to make you moan and squirm and twitch under me or in my mouth.

I was begging and begging – using all the pleases and sirs I could to get him to stick something inside me, but he kept saying "No, not until I'M ready." Then he went back to the goodie bag for me. 

He got out a 2 headed dildo – one end for the pussy and and slimmer one for the ass. He had me raise my hips as he poured lube over my ass. I probably didn't even need it, but it's never a bad idea and I love the feel of it dripping off me.

He inserted them both at the same time and I cried out. He gave me a few slow strokes, but I was already ready and we started to really rock back and forth. The slimmer rod up my ass was longer then what I usually stick up there, so it was definitely hitting new spots. I was fucking for all I was worth and he was really pounding it in. He got going really fast for a few minutes and it was a little over the top as far as force and speed – I was definitely going to get bruises - but I was determined not to say anything unless I truly couldn't take it any more. After all, that's the ad I answered and the experience I craved.

I had been saving this orgasm for him for 3 days. He had told me not to cum until I was there with him. and I obeyed. I also had been told that I had to have permission first. So there I was being driven face down into the bed by his toy in both holes and I felt it building. He was grunting too and talking dirty at that point, so I asked "Can I cum please?" He reminded me to call him sir with a smack across my ass. 

"Can I cum please Sir?"

He leaned down and whispered in my ear "Cum for me, do it now." I increased my speed and he fucked me harder and I started to build up. I started moaning "harder, harder, please, please, please" and it got me so hot to feel how he reacted to that. His voice got very loud and almost angry "Give it to me – cum for me! It's MINE! Give it to me now!" He said that a few times and it really intensified the whole experience. To be in the middle of an orgasm to have more demanded of you and have more to give..... it's a lovely thing.

And unlike at home I felt comfortable to shout the orgasm out loud and ride it all the way. Thankfully he knew to keep going and get the last few nice little after-bits...

Mmmmmmmmmmm

Then I heard him stand up and put on the condom. I raised my hips up off the bed and gave him as much access as I could. I couldn't wait for his cock. I was so ready. We fucked for a few minutes, but he really wanted my mouth on him again and to cum in it. 

I wanted that too.  

H repositioned me on the bed and lay down next to me and pulled me in close. We lay there for a few minutes and he told me how much he was enjoying this. He thanked me for being "as advertised" because on CraigsList you just never know.... We cuddled up in a spooning position, but the problem with that is that my hips just can't be still and I wriggle too much.  He had also unbound my hands by then (leaving the cuffs on) and I reached down to get him hard again.

But the best way to do that is with your mouth. Or my mouth, as it were. I pushed him over onto his back and started my way down. I trailed my long silky hair over his chest and stomach and used it as a tent to hide what my mouth was doing. He reached down and pulled it back to get the show. I love to suck dick. I just really really really do.  

Back down to the balls. All around with the tongue. In the mouth gently with just a tiny bit of suction. Back up the underside of the penis with the tongue and around the tip. Then I take it all in my mouth again. All of it. My nose is pressed in his belly and my tongue can reach down and lick his balls again. I massage it with the inside of my mouth and attempt to suck the hell out of it. I love the moans and groans and direction I get. He tells me he's close to cumming and to stop when he tells me to – in order to feel it in my mouth. He reminds me to swallow it and not miss a drop. I've been a good girl so far and good girls get rewarded. 

He said "Stop" and I held him in my mouth as he came. There are lots of different tastes, but since I stopped dating smokers it's definitely gotten better.  And his wasn't unpleasant at all, in fact it went down very nicely. I also make a point to keep sucking and licking until I'm literally pushed off and swore at. I swear – my mouth is literally watering as I write this.

He brought me back up to kiss him and held me close again. He started to trail his fingers up and down my side. Down my hip and back up over my waist up my ribs over my tits and nipples, back down to my hips. Then more nipple action. He used his mouth and fingers and really gave them a workout. I ran my hand up with his as he pinched and played. That's a trick I learned from a girl I used to date. As she ran her hand over my pussy, I would run my hand over hers and we would play together. Slipping fingers all around, intertwining and playful. He liked that idea too. 

By that time I was swiveling at the hips again – needing more inside me. This need thing is truly the bane of my existence. I'm never fucking done.  So as he lay beside me, he stuck his fingers in me again. "Can I help?" I asked and ran my hand toward my pussy. '"Oh yes" he replied. "Masturbate for me."

My fingers wrapped around my clit as he sank 3 of his own into my pussy. This was not going to take long and I told him so. He said "Cum for me! Do it now! It's mine - I want all of it. Now! Do it now!"  He didn't have to go on very long as I was rocking to beat the band already. Again I let loose and cried out and shook and shivered on his fingers. He had them curled around and rubbing the G spot and it was an extremely intense orgasm. When I quit bucking, he wrapped me up again and held me close and told me how wonderful I was. That was a very comfortable space to be in. 

He looked down and me and I smirked. He said, "What's up?" To which I replied with a smile "There's more......" 

He smiled and reached back down and started rubbing again. It was right near the surface and I didn't need much. Only a few more seconds of quick intensity and I came again just as hard. 

We passed out for a few minutes and then came back to the real world. 

He mentioned to me early on that he'd been in the BDSM and spanking communities for 15 years and that it really opened his eyes and changed his life. He also remarked that he would be very interested to see me in a few years now that I've opened myself up to this.

I think that if someone is willing to take the first step and be open then they couldn't ask for a better experience then I had. My cheeks are pleasantly sore and a little more than shockingly purple but not painful. My nipples are swollen and exquisitely sore to the touch. And I'm touching them a lot as I write this. 

Thanks to all who made it this far through the story and thanks to the guy who made the first time extremely special and rewarding for me.

Please feel free to give me feedback and critiques on writing or content. This is not something I've done before, but I have fantasies to share and future adventures.....



First Timer: The Aftermath



Gary had taken his clothes off in front of another man. He'd allowed another man to spank him with his hand, to paddle him, and to beat his ass with two belts. He'd let another man turn his ass from pink to red to purple. He'd drunk another man's piss. He'd sucked another man's cock and swallowed his ejaculate. He'd allowed himself to be reduced to tears, humiliated beyond belief, and physically and emotionally abused. Why? What had possessed him to acquiesce to such maltreatment? More importantly, what was the matter with him that he'd permitted such mistreatment to begin with? Where was his self-respect, his self-esteem? No man who cared about himself would do the things he'd done.

Why had Gary?

He was submissive--but what did that mean? He liked to please. He hated to say no. He wanted to be popular. All his life, he'd wanted others to like and to accept him. He was acquiescent, compliant, obedient--in a word, submissive. Although these words defined him perfectly, Gary had long pretended otherwise, claiming that he was rebellious, insubordinate, resistant, and, if not dominant, assertive. His behavior today, in this motel room, with Russ, showed which of these two versions of himself was true. Gary was a wimp. He'd done everything that Russ had ordered him to do. He'd proven himself to be Russ' servant, Russ' slut, Russ' bitch. Although he'd tried to reject it, the truth was, as he'd found out, that he was a dependent personality, unable to think or feel or judge for himself. His sense of self, like his sense of self-worth, depended upon other people--people who were only too happy to use him for their own purposes and pleasures, as Russ had done and would continue to do, if Gary allowed it, which, of course, was so likely as to be a foregone conclusion.

It was said of actors and actresses in general that they lacked a true self. Therefore, they were able, as it were, to become any character. People with fully developed identities, it was said, had much more difficulty in pretending to be other individuals. Ray Bradbury had written a short story that seemed to support this idea. In his story, an extraterrestrial shape shifter took whatever form people wanted him to adopt, becoming a son to a childless couple, a brother to an only child, or a child who'd been slain in an accident. The problem for him was that everyone he met wanted him to be someone other than himself, and, in trying to please everyone at once, he overstressed his vital organs and died. The moral of the story was not lost on Gary, but he'd found a solution. Although a person couldn't please everyone, he could, at least sometimes, please one person. For the present--and, Gary hoped, from now on--this one person would be Russ. By satisfying and pleasing Russ, Gary could find acceptance, an identity, security, and, eventually, maybe even a semblance of love.

But there was another reason that Gary had allowed Russ to use him. Gary regarded himself as a loser. He was a nobody and a nothing. He was so worthless that he deserved to be punished, and, since he was infinitely unworthy, he deserved endless punishment, the crueler the better. Through suffering for others, he might, someday, become worthy by providing a worthwhile service, as had, for example, the whipping boys of the middle ages. It was unseemly that a prince should be spanked or beaten, for he was of royal blood. Therefore, when it was considered necessary that a wayward heir to the throne be disciplined for misbehavior, it was not his ass, but that of his stand-in, the whipping boy's, to be flogged. Gary saw himself as serving a like function for men who were, by virtue of their dominance and aggressiveness, his superiors.

By serving and servicing Russ' needs and desires, by fulfilling his every whim, Gary would be sacrificing himself in the interest of Russ' emotional and spiritual health and happiness. As a result, by making himself useful in this manner, his own otherwise miserable existence would become worthwhile; he would, over time, perhaps thereby redeem himself. That which was unworthy might become worthy. Of course, the spankings would continue, even when he had become worthy, for they alone, along with the other services, such as fellatio and his imbibing the golden nectar of Russ' bladder, would continue to make him worthy. Russ was providing an even greater service to Gary than Gary was providing for him, for it was Russ' use and abuse of him that bestowed upon the worthless Gary whatever worthiness he was thereby given and by Russ' use and abuse of him that Gary continued to maintain such worthiness.

These revelations did not come to Gary immediately. They were insights born of hours of reflection concerning why he took pleasure in being used by another man and why he felt joy at being abused by another man. However, once Gary had attained this wisdom, all the many spankings he'd received during the set that Russ had bestowed upon him during their first session had been well worth it. Now, for the first time in his life, thanks to the help of his mentor, Gary had come to understand who he was and why he was as he was. A great, perplexing mystery had been resolved, and the pieces of his personality had, as it were, come together, completing a whole of his fractured psyche. By the stripes that Russ had inflicted upon Gary's satin-smooth buttocks, Russ had healed him. He had made Gary whole.

By their fourth session, Gary understood these facts, intuitively if not yet completely consciously, and, when Russ demanded that Gary submit to the receipt of anal intercourse, Gary willingly acquiesced to being penetrated in this manner by his mentor's rigid cock, just as Russ had earlier predicted to himself that Gary would do.

Gary positioned himself on his elbows and knees atop the bed, with Russ behind him. The mattress dipped and swayed as Russ, also on his knees, positioned himself between Gary's widespread legs. Then, Gary felt a thickness between his buttocks, followed by a firm pressure against his anus. The pressure increased, and Gary's asshole began to spread. His ass' sphincter opened, and Russ' ramrod-stiff cock shoved deep into Gary's rectum.

Gary's asshole fluttered frantically about Russ' invading member. Russ' prick remained lodged inside Gary's asshole, and Russ felt the ring of muscle grip and squeeze his penis repeatedly, seemingly frantically. Russ waited until the spasms of Gary's anus subsided. Then, he drew his hips back, tugging his thick, hard cock back through Gary's asshole until only the glans remained within Gary's anus. After a few moments' pause, Russ plunged his cock back through Gary's asshole, again sending his erect organ deep into Gary's bowel.

Gary frowned, grimacing. He'd never had a prick up his ass, and the feeling of having his behind crammed full of cock was both exciting and uncomfortable, both in the physical and the emotional sense. In having drunk Russ' piss and sucked his cock, Gary had demonstrated his submissiveness, but, in being fucked in his ass, he was being unmanned. He was losing his masculinity. He could no longer think of himself as virile. He was just a slut, just a bitch, just a whore. Part of him cringed at what was happening to him--at what he was allowing to happen to him--but another, larger part of him wanted to be fucked in the ass.

Russ jerked his organ back down Gary's bowel and slammed it home again, driving it deep into the tender, soft tunnel of Gary's rectum. As he continued to fuck Gary, increasing both the force and the intensity of his thrusts with each renewed assault on Gary's bottom, Russ thought of how his prick would look sliding back and forth inside Gary's ass, as viewed from various angles. From beneath and slightly behind them, a viewer could see Russ' pumping ass; his cock, extending straight out in front of him, but half buried inside Gary's ass; and Gary's own prick, jutting straight out from his balls, just before the short stretch of Gary's perineum, which separated cock from cock.

Seen from a slightly different perspective--below and slightly in front of them--the focus would be upon Gary's erection and balls before following the upward curving perineum to Russ' penis, jammed through the lower cheeks of Gary's ass.

If one were located behind them both, such an observer might see nothing of Russ but his lower buttocks and his balls, shoved as far into Gary's bottom as possible, Russ' dick completely lost to view inside Gary's ass, and Gary's erect cock pointing down between his full, dangling balls.

Other angles would reveal other sides of their cocks, balls, buttocks, and legs, showing, for example, Russ crouched over Gary, almost standing, his hands clutching the top edge of the bed's headboard, his ass atop Gary's ass; his legs, bent at the knees, with his thighs and calves straddling Gary's upper legs; his balls filling the cleavage at the lower halves of Gary's impaled buttocks; Gary's semi-erect cock and loose balls pointing between Gary's thighs.

Yet another view of the couple might show Gary's face close up, his brow furrowed in a frown, his eyes pleading, the tip of his tongue, pink and moist, protruding from the corner of his mouth, his ass, seen from above, a tight Valentine-shaped heart split from behind by Russ' erection, perhaps with Russ' hands resting upon the sides of Gary's impaled buttocks.

To Russ, the sexiest thing about anal intercourse was the juxtaposition of two thick, hard cocks, one buried inside a man's firm, tight ass, the other pointed forward or upward, useless and redundant. Seeing a cock wedged tightly inside a guy's asshole while the skewered partner's own cock dangled uselessly between his thighs, possibly having spewed its seed, was one of the most beautiful sights that Russ had ever seen or wanted to see and, thinking about this vision now, as he fucked Gary's ass, kept Russ' cock thick and hard.

Russ slammed into Gary's ass, flattening his cheeks before each assault. As Russ withdrew his penis, preparing to launch it again into Gary's depths, Gary's buttocks bounced back to their normal fullness. Russ' penis vanished through the wide-stretched anus of Gary's ass, deep into Gary's rectum, and then, slowly, reemerged to strike again. The constant ramming of his ass brought Gary to orgasm, and his prick spurted semen onto his stomach, pubes, and thighs. Great gobs of the thick, white fluid were splattered everywhere across his chest and thighs. It also ran in thick white ribbons down his erection. Light shone upon the semen streamers; they looked like melted pearls.

Russ threw back his head, shutting his eyes tightly, and gasped as an intense orgasm swept over and through him. He seemed to be spurting out through his convulsing cock, along with his thick, warm seed. Jet after jet of his viscid, white seed spewed from his lurching straining cock, flooding Gary's ass. Russ jerked his hips backward, removing his still-erupting prick from Gary's gaping, semen-smeared asshole, and Russ' sperm continued to splash and splatter Gary's ass, branding him, as it were, with the very essence of Russ' virility and manhood.

Russ, spent and exhausted, fell forward, collapsing atop Gary, and Gary felt his weight upon him, felt Russ' heart beating between his shoulder blades, felt Russ' hot breath upon his neck, felt Russ' dwindling cock loll against the backs of his semen-smeared thighs.

After it was over, Russ drove Gary home.

Russ held up his cell phone. "When I call you, be ready," he commanded.

"I will," Gary promised. He started to open the door and exit Russ' car, but Russ caught his arm. Gary turned toward him, a quizzical look on his face.

"I own you," Russ said. "you're nothing without me."

Gary nodded. "I know."

"You may go--until I call."

"Yes, sir."

Gary got out of the car, and Russ drove off, without saying goodbye or glancing back. He drove to his own home, went to his basement, and nailed two more pegs into the wall among those upon which paddles, whips, and various other spanking implements hung.

This pair of pegs would support the bamboo cane that Russ would next use on Gary's poor ass. A cane was the cruelest implement of all. Its every lash would leave an agonizing gash behind that swept a debilitating fiery pain throughout Gary's ass, bowels, groin, and belly.

Russ would give Gary a week off, a week to heal, and then, with the bruises and lacerations on Gary's ass faded to scars, Russ would make a telephone call. Gary would be ready; he would answer the summons; he would come. Then, the cane would earn its place among the other instruments in Russ' collection, and Russ would place it there, with reverence and care, upon the pair of pegs he'd just installed for that very purpose, at which time, Russ' collection would finally be complete. 



First Timer: The Hand



In rapid succession, Russ slapped Gary's ass six more times, alternating between the cheeks. With the two previous smacks he'd delivered to Gary's buttocks, these additional half dozen swats brought the color up in his creamy, smooth buttocks. The flesh was a soft rosy pink. Russ smiled as he raised his hand. He loved this cheerful, pastel color. It imparted a healthy glow to Gary's behind, making it seem as if his bottom were blossoming. Later, when the pink had turned to red and the red deepened to purple, Gary's ass would remind Russ more of a ripened fruit--a plum, perhaps--than a blossom. Watching the flesh change colors was one of the things that Russ most liked about spanking another guy.

He brought his raised hand down hard, flattening Gary's buttocks, and the man who lay naked across his lap lunged forward, crying out with indignation and pain. From his seat on the edge of the bed, Russ could see the profile of Gary's face in the mirror over the dresser that stood on the wall opposite this side of the bed. His features were distorted with pain. This was the second thing that Russ liked about spanking another man. He enjoyed the expressions of humiliation, fear, ire, apprehension, and anguish. Sometimes one such emotion was all that was displayed on the twisted countenance; sometimes two or more were combined in the same expression; other times, one sentiment followed the next in a whole range of reactions. The physical aspect of administering a spanking was pleasurable in itself, but the changing colors of the victim's ass and his reactions, both physical and emotional, increased this pleasure a hundredfold.

Russ brought his hand up, over his head, targeting the same spot on Gary's buttocks upon which he'd delivered the previous smack. With lightning speed, the flat of his hand came down hard upon Gary's bottom, and the recipient of the spank lurched and cried. His ass was deepening from a soft rosy pink to a cherry red. In the mirror, Russ had watched Gary's lips part in a grimace that displayed gritted teeth, as deep dimples appeared in his contracted cheeks, his eyes closed tightly, and his brow furrowed. It seemed that Gary had found the latest blow more painful than the previous ones, as well he should: it had been delivered with greater force and upon the exact spot upon which the previous swat had landed.

As Russ raised his arm again, he imagined himself working a dildo between the soft cheeks of the upturned ass awaiting his hand. He saw himself twisting the artificial cock left and right in his hand, to drill its latex glans against Gary's tight anus. No doubt, Gary would twist and turn, too, trying to avoid the phallus. However, Russ was nothing if not resolute, and he'd persist in rotating the dildo as he thrust it more forcefully into his target until, at last, the fake penis would penetrate Gary's asshole and slide several inches through his sphincter, into his more accommodating rectum. Russ wouldn't ease the entry of the dildo with a lubricant. He'd make it as difficult and painful as possible so that Gary would long remember the first time he was penetrated anally. Whether the first time was with a cock or a dildo, one ought to remember it clearly and forever, Russ thought.

His hand landed another stinging smack to Gary's buttocks, flattening the smooth mounds, and the sufferer again lurched, his stiffening, swelling penis and the contracted pouch of his scrotum sliding over Russ' own genitals and halfway across his thigh. "Move back down," Russ commanded.

Gary did as he was told, repositioning himself on the bed so that his groin lay atop his tormentor's lap.

So far, Gary had endured the spanking without a word. Although he cried out with pain at each smack, his only utterances were ejaculations of interjections: "Ouch!" "Ow!" and "Uh!"

As he returned to his fantasy of impaling Gary's ass with a dildo, Russ smiled. Before long, Gary would speak as well as whimper. He'd beg Russ to stop. His entreaties, of course, would have the opposite effect than that which Gary intended, enflaming Russ' bloodlust rather than appeasing it. Gary, like those who'd served Russ before him, must learn this the same way the others had--the hard way. Once he'd inserted the dildo, Russ would pull it back through the skewered anus, leaving only its tip within the wide-stretched ring of muscle. He'd pause, letting Gary feel the rigidity of the phallic object that impaled him. Gary would feel as if he'd been invaded. For a first timer, such a sensation was alarming and quite unlike anything he'd ever experienced or imagined. After a few moments, Russ would jam the artificial cock back through his asshole, all the way into Gary's rectum, until the fake balls at the base of the man-made prick were shoved firmly against his perineum.

Grinning as he delivered a series of rapid blows to Gary's ass cheeks, Russ watched the purpling buttocks jump and jiggle. Gary whimpered.

Perhaps, instead of a dildo, when it came time to deflower Gary, Russ would use his own cock. That would be a much more intimate way to accomplish the task of taking his virginity and, for this reason, it might be all the more humiliating to Gary and, therefore, all the more memorable to him as well.

It would be far more enjoyable for Russ, too. He loved the feel of his erect penis sliding between two silk-smooth mounds of flesh. He enjoyed the sensation of his glans' pressing against a tight, small anus. He adored the feeling of another man's asshole parting to admit him. It was extremely erotic to ram the shaft of his thick, rigid member through another man's sphincter and deep into his rectum. In some ways, deflowering another man was more erotic than taking a woman's virginity, whether vaginal or anal, because, in so doing, one was also taking his manhood. According to society, men did not fuck other men. To do so was taboo. Until recently, it had been criminal. Even with the Supreme Court's decision that anti-sodomy laws were undue invasions of an individual's privacy, there remained an unwritten law among most men and women against the act. It was regarded as sinful by many and as immoral by most. The forbidden character of anal intercourse--especially anal intercourse between men--made it all the more seductive and exciting to Russ--and all the more revolting to someone like Gary, who, for the moment, at least, retained his anal virginity.

Another stinging swat, followed by another and a third, brought shrieks of misery from Gary, which were as music to Russ' ears. Gary's ass was now altogether red or purple. The colors were beautiful and exciting. The fruit of Gary's ass was ripe. Russ rained half a dozen more swats down hard upon the upturned buttocks, and Gary, his face screwed up in pain, sang another chorus of interjections.

"I don't do anal," Gary had advised Russ in one of the early email messages the two men had exchanged after Russ had seen Gary's email address listed on a spanking personals web site. He'd reminded Russ of this limit soon after he'd arrived at the motel room. Both times, Russ had reassured Gary that he respected all limits, and, of course, he did. To be fully arousing, the masochistic component of the sadomasochistic dynamic had to be voluntary at each step. The voluntary nature of the submissive partner's surrender was what made spanking him fun and exciting. Besides, Russ was not a sexual predator. The men who bared their asses to him did so because they wanted--indeed, because they needed--to do so. In due time, with the proper encouragement and reassurances, most of them surrendered themselves completely to Russ. They did whatever he commanded, from sucking his cock to allowing him to fuck them in the ass. Russ had no doubt that Gary would likewise surrender himself completely. By their fourth session, Gary would give up his ass, and Russ' fantasies about impaling him with a dildo or, better yet, with his own cock would come true.

By fucking Gary, Russ would take away his manhood. He'd reduce him to a piece of ass. Gary wouldn't be so much feminized as unmanned. He'd be conquered. From that moment on, he'd belong, body and soul, to Russ, and he'd do anything to please him. His will would be broken, and he'd become a servant, even a slave. When that happened, Russ would reevaluate their relationship. It took a man's man to unman another man, but once this objective was reached, being the master of a spiritually castrated man was less exciting. Sometimes, having an emotional eunuch to serve and to service one was titillating; sometimes, it was not. Russ wasn't sure what made it exciting in one case and not in another. Maybe it was the degree of devotion and adoration that a slave expressed. With Gary, Russ may or may not wish to continue their association once he'd broken him. He'd deal with that issue when it was time to do so. Meanwhile, he had the thrill of conquering the man whose upended ass lay across his lap.

Russ smacked Gary's ass six more times, so fast that his hand was a blur: slapslapslapslapslapslap!

"Oh! God!" Gary cried, twisting on the bed. His hand threw itself over his buttocks.

Removing the protective hand, Russ gently patted Gary's discolored bottom. "Don't worry," he reassured his victim. "We're going to take a short recess--an intermission, if you will."

Russ' hand made the rotating, swirling motions over Gary's ass cheeks that it had made when Gary had first lain across his tormentor's lap, caressing and massaging the wounded flesh. He spoke in a soft, comforting tone. "You've been a good boy, taking your punishment like a man."

Gary sniffled.

"Yes, you've been a real little trooper." Russ spoke almost as if he would had he been talking to a toddler. In reality, Gary was 55 years old, but, Russ knew, the part of him who wanted to be spanked was a child, and a child, whether five or 55, needed consolation after he'd experienced a painful or traumatic experience, and Russ was good at providing such solace. After all, as a spanker, he'd had years of experience.

Russ gave Gary's bottom a playful pinch.

Gary squirmed.

Russ pinched him harder.

"Ow!"

His voice still soft, speaking baby talk, Russ said, "You've been a very good boy, yes you have, but--" his tone changed, becoming harsh and gruff--"we haven't even started yet!"

Frightened, Gary tried to turn to face his tormentor, but Russ held him in place with one hand to his back as, reaching past Gary with his other hand, he took the paddle from the night table beside the bed.

The pink flesh of Gary's buttocks had changed to red, and the red was turning purple. Gary's ass had not only flowered but also ripened.

It was time, now, for the bruises to begin. . . .



First Timer: The Narrow Belt



With the wide belt, Russ had added welts and bruises and swollen ridges to Gary's ass. In the process, Gary had had to endure the greatest pain yet, for Russ had not merely spanked, but beaten, Gary's buttocks with the wide leather strap, laying one blow atop the next, in the same furrow that the first of the half dozen strokes had created across his backside. The beating had had its intended effect, stripping away another layer of Gary's pride, virility, and manhood along with the flesh of his bottom. As such, the beating, which had produced exquisite, almost unendurable pain, had brought Gary that much closer to becoming a spiritual eunuch. Its work completed, Russ had returned the wide belt to the night table beside the bed and had taken up the next instrument of Gary's torment--the thin, or narrow, belt.

Russ had bought this belt a week ago. Upon seeing it in a men's clothing store, he'd purchased it immediately--not to wear (although he did sometimes wear it)--but to add to his ever-growing collection of spanking implements. At home, proudly displayed on his basement wall, Russ had paddles, hairbrushes, cat-o-nine-tail whips, riding crops, bullwhips, and other spanking instruments. Each had been used on at least one man's or, in a few instances, woman's bottom. As yet, this new belt had not been so employed. However, a hook awaited it in the basement, and, after today's session with Gary, Russ would see to it that this belt also hung among its many counterparts. First, however, it must earn its place of honor, and Russ would see that it did so, right now.

Most people mistakenly assumed that a wider belt would inflict more distress on its recipient's buttocks, but experts in the use of spanking implements, including Russ, knew that this belief was erroneous. The narrower the surface area against which a well-aimed leather strap made contact, the more, not the less, painful the effect would be. A narrow belt was, consequently, far more an agent of anguish than its wider cousins. The one that Russ held in his hand was a half inch wide. It was pliable, too, and would offer little resistance as it flashed through the air with an unnerving whoosh! Such a fine, flexible, narrow belt as the one Russ had selected for Gary's "enjoyment" would not so much lash or whip as cut. Each time this belt landed upon Gary's ass cheeks, the result would be a quick, slicing pain and a red line--not of bruised flesh but of blood from broken skin. Just the thought of the anguish that he was about to inflict upon Gary's ass and the lovely bloody lines he'd make upon the cheeks of his round, sleek bottom kept Russ' cock erect. It was rigid, like steel, and swollen to its fullest dimensions.

Having studied Gary's ass to determine the best locations for the lashes with the narrow belt, Russ had selected three sites on each buttock. Now, raising the thin belt high overhead, he slashed it down, hard, against Gary's bare backside. The leather cut sharply into Gary's bottom, and he yelled and tried to lurch forward, but the bed's being up against his thighs prevented him from doing so. A fine red line appeared on the ass cheek that Russ had struck with the narrow belt. Along the line, small red beads formed, dripping slowly down the slope formed by the lower portion of the buttock. Gary's screams subsided into low moans. 

When the moans had become mere whimpers, Russ raised the belt again. In quick succession, he thrashed Gary's buttocks soundly four more times, the narrow belt whizzing through the air to cut the flesh upon Gary's buttocks: Thwack! Whack! Wallop! Smack! Four more lines joined the first, seeping blood, as had the previous one. Russ smiled, watching the crimson trickles coursing over Gary's ass cheeks, flanks, and thighs.

Gary's whimpers became full-throated cries. He squirmed and twisted upon the mattress, kicking with his legs, as he screamed. "Stop! Please, stop! I can't take any more!"

Russ answered his plea with two more cutting strokes of the belt, and two more lines appeared, as if by magic, in Gary's bruised and welted bottom.

Gary gasped, tears overflowing his eyes. Instead of shrieking, he sobbed, blubbering and weeping. When he was able to find his voice again, he repeated his pleas: "Stop! I can't bear another stroke of the belt!"

Another lash opened another gash, and more blood oozed and trickled from the wound as Gary wept and blubbered more loudly, kicking his legs furiously and rolling from side to side.

Russ paused. When Gary's thrashings and kicking had subsided, Russ bid him to raise his upper body from the mattress and, remaining on his knees, turn to face him. Gary tried to comply, obedient, even now, in his agony, but the pain was so great as to be temporarily incapacitating. Russ gave Gary a few moments to collect his wits. Then, he repeated his command. Again, Gary tried to obey, but to no avail.

"Do you want another half dozen strokes?" Russ threatened.

"No!" Gary wailed.

Yanking the opposite ends of the belt, Russ snapped the thin leather strap in his hands. "Then do as I say!"

Fearing additional swats more than he feared awakening the pain that smoldered in his buttocks, Gary forced himself to raise his upper body from the mattress, and pushed himself up, off the bed with his arms. The effort send fiery waves of agony through his burning bottom, and he nearly collapsed onto the bed. Nevertheless, he caught himself, pushed himself up again, and managed to rise so that he was still kneeling but his upper body was vertical instead of horizontal across the mattress.

"You just saved yourself half a dozen more strokes of the belt," Russ informed him. "Now, remain on your knees, but turn to face me."

By an excruciating effort, Gary managed to hobble around on his kneecaps until he faced Russ, who stood behind him. Now that Russ could see his countenance, he saw the tears that streamed steadily down Gary's face, and he saw that Gary's upper lip wore a mustache of mucus. Furthermore, spittle had drooled down Gary's chin, and he spluttered as he gasped for breath between sobs.

"Quit your crocodile tears!" Russ ordered.

Gary tried to comply with his tormentor's directive, but he could not completely repress the tears or the sobs.

Another stinging, slashing blow of the belt cut through the flesh on Gary's colorful, well-marked buttocks, and he screamed in agony, shock, and outrage. Standing before him, Russ had brought the belt down, over Gary's shoulders and back to strike once more at his bruised and lacerated bottom, and the cruel stroke of leather had hurt beyond belief. Gary squealed, and his hands swept round his hips to clutch and rub his injured ass. More great sobs escaped his lips, and a new generation of tears washed his cheeks.

"Quit your crying or you'll get more!" Russ warned.

This time, Gary was able to bring himself under a semblance of control. He muffled the sobs, whimpering rather than screaming or moaning. The effort was enough to placate Russ, and that was all, Gary thought, that mattered.

"Open your eyes," Russ ordered.

Gary did as he'd been told, fresh tears pouring down his cheeks.

"What do you see?"

What met Gary's eyes when he'd opened them at Russ' command was Russ' thick, six-inch prick, standing upright against his belly.

"Your cock," Gary answered.

"Suck it," Russ commanded.

Obediently, Gary bent forward. Bowing his head and parting his lips, took Russ' smooth, thick, warm member into his mouth.

As Russ watched from above, Gary's head bobbed up and down, up and down, up and down. The wide "O" of his open lips slid back and forth upon the rigid column of flesh, riding the shaft of Russ' thick prick.

The sensation of having a warm, wet mouth pumping up and down upon his erect member was wonderful, Russ thought, as was watching his penis slide back and forth between Gary's soft, saliva-lubricated lips. "Oh, that's right, slut! Suck my cock!"

Before he'd met Russ, Gary would have been insulted by someone's calling him a "bitch" or a "slut," but Russ had used both terms in reference to him, and neither description had angered him. In fact, hearing the man who'd spanked, paddled, and beaten his ass with his hand, a paddle, and a belt call him these rude and offensive names was exciting to Gary. It titillated him. Gary wondered what was wrong with himself. Why would he like being called such abusive terms? Why did he enjoy being dominated and controlled? Why was he keen on being ordered about and commanded by another man? What made him love being humiliated, spanked, paddled, and beaten by a more dominant and aggressive male? Why had he agreed to drink Russ' piss and what made him delight in sucking Russ' cock?

Obviously, Gary, who was separated from his wife of eleven years, was bisexual. He liked women, but, as he'd found when he'd surfed the porn sites on the Internet, he loved men. It was by surfing the 'net that he'd encountered Russ. His curiosity about spanking had led him to a number of spanking sites. One of those was the one on which he had found Russ' email address. In his online profile, Russ had described himself as gray-haired and handsome, as near Gary's own age, and as a man who got hard when he thought about--or delivered--light, erotic spankings. Intrigued, Gary had overcome his initial hesitation, repressing his misgivings about contacting a stranger concerning something as intimate as baring his ass for a spanking, and, despite his anxiety, humiliation, guilt, and shame, Gary had sent the first of the several emails that he and Russ ultimately exchanged.

One of Russ' responses had included the attachment of his digitized photo. Once Gary saw his handsome, kind, open face, he was infatuated with the other man. It had been lust, if not exactly love, at first sight. As he'd thought of this handsome, distinguished man spanking his bare, defenseless ass, Gary's cock had sprouted an erection, and he'd masturbated furiously as, with a plastic coat hanger, he'd spanked his own buttocks fast and hard, leaving red-purple welts the width of the hanger.

Now, as he sucked Russ' cock, thinking of the time he'd spanked his own ass while fantasizing about the handsome stranger who wanted to spank him, Gary remembered how painful the coat hanger beating he'd delivered to his ass had been. Had he not inflicted such anguish on his burning buttocks, he'd never have believed that a plastic coat hanger, applied in such a manner, could produce such splendid agony. Still, as painful as his self-flagellation with the hanger had been, it paled in comparison to the anguish that Russ had ignited throughout his ass with his hand, a paddle, and a couple of belts.

Although he tried to exercise discretion as he sucked Russ' prick, from time to time, Gary's mouth made wet, slurping sounds as he pumped his lips up and down upon the rigid penis that glided through his lips, over his tongue, beneath the roof of his mouth, and past the inside walls of his cheeks. Had Gary's ass not been on fire and his thoughts concentrated upon providing the best, most satisfying oral service he could give, these slurping sounds would have embarrassed and humiliated him. As it was, he hardly heard them; as much as they did register on his consciousness, they excited him. Since their spanking session had started, sucking Russ' prick had been the first time that Gary had been allowed to take an active part in the activities in which Russ had required him to participate. Instead, Gary had been on the receiving end of a spanking by Russ' hand, a paddling, and two beatings with belts. He'd also been made to drink a cup of his tormentor's piss. It was only now that he'd been granted a measure of active participation in the sexual activities of which he was part, and, although he found sucking another man's cock to be humiliating and degrading, he also found that he very much enjoyed both the act itself and the freedom to be an active participant in his sexual activities with Russ.

However, as Russ placed his hands on either side of Gary's head, his palms covering his ears and his fingers curling around the back of the cock sucker's skull, the sense of autonomy and independence vanished. Once again, Russ had transformed Gary into a thing rather than a person. This time, instead of a pair of buttocks to be spanked and paddled and whipped, Gary had been reduced to a head containing a vaginal mouth that was as warm and wet and tender as a cunt.

Holding his head firmly between his hands, Russ took control of his cock, thrusting hard and fast into Gary's mouth. The tip of Russ' six-inch prick plunged into the opening of Gary's throat, gagging him. Gary's eyes bulged, as panic seized him. Instinctively, he tried to open his mouth wider and spit out the piece of meat that was choking him, but his mouth was already open as wide as possible, stuffed as it was with Russ' member. Fortunately, the prick retreated from his throat again, and the panic subsided--until the cock shoved into his esophagus again, triggering the same instinctive fright as it momentarily cut off his air supply. Back and forth, in and out, the thick, hard prick rammed and withdrew itself. Eventually, Gary's gag reflex ceased, and the muscles in his throat, like those in his cheeks, relaxed, accepting the presence of the invading prick.

For the first time during their encounter, Russ cried out, his voice loud and hoarse with passion, as his lurching, straining cock spewed jet after warm, thick jet of his salty semen over Gary's tongue, palate, and inner cheeks. Several spurts of his sperm collided against the back of Gary's throat, and the cock sucker swallowed the tasty snack. Having shot his load, Russ withdrew his sperm-smeared prick from Gary's mouth, trailing semen over Gary's lips and chin.

Being ravished orally had excited Gary. His own prick stood out, stiff and straight, from his pubes.

Recovering from the intense orgasm and ejaculation of his seed, Russ caught sight of Gary's erection. "Did I give you permission to get a hard on?" he demanded.

Gary looked down at his offending penis. "No," he admitted.

Before Gary could say another word, the narrow belt came down over his shoulders and back to deliver four cutting blows that took Gary's breath away and reduced him, once again, to sobs, moans, whimpers, and tears. Instead of the incredible pain making his dick revert to its normal soft and flaccid state, the agony that surged through his bruised and bloodied bottom made his penis swell and stiffen more. Instead of sticking straight out from his pubes, it angled sharply upward, nearly touching his lower belly.

Again, Gary wondered what was wrong with him. Why was he such a pain slut? Why did he enjoy being used and abused by another man? 



First Timer: The Paddle



Russ clutched the ping pong paddle's handle. The short wood grip felt good. He flexed his fist around the smooth pine shaft. He laid the blade of the paddle on Gary's red-and-purple ass. Russ' hand had done its usual expert job in transforming a creamy white ass into a pretty display of pink, red, purple, and black and blue patches. Gary's bottom looked much better this way, although, in its own way, it was quite attractive even before the initial spanking, although a bit pale. Russ had done all that he could accomplish with his hand. To further beautify Gary's ass cheeks, he'd need to resort to the paddle he now held in hand. With it, Russ could add a spattering of light bruises. The constellations of contusions would highlight the broader discolorations. They'd look superb in the mirror, should Gary wish to inspect Russ' handiwork, as Russ had no doubt he would. They always did.

Gary had come further along in surrendering himself to Russ' superior will than he probably realized. Just by being here with him today, in this motel room, lying across Russ' lap, naked, with his defenseless ass at Russ' mercy, Gary had reached a point of no return. Even if he never saw Russ again (which was so unlikely as to be unthinkable), Gary would remember the spanking he'd already received and the ones that were yet to come during their first session together. Allowing oneself to be spanked by another man changed a man irreversibly, for it was the first step in surrendering one's autonomy--and one's masculinity. Of course, Gary would return. Once he accepted his role--his nature--as a nobody and a nothing, he'd delight in serving--and servicing--Russ. Like women, most submissive men, once they'd been broken, were eager sluts.

It was easy to break a man, Russ thought. It was much easier than breaking a wild horse. All that one had to do was to give him what he wanted, which was security. Submissive men, Russ had found, more often than not tended to be dependent men. They were anxious about themselves, about others--about everything, really. For whatever reason, they were not equipped to be assertive. They lacked self-confidence and self-esteem, although, outwardly, they might seem to be both secure and content about themselves. They sought from other, aggressive and dominant men, the power and strength and confidence that they themselves lacked. They didn't seem to understand that such characteristics could not be acquired by submitting to spankings, sucking cock, or taking another man's prick up their asses. They believed that by submitting their wills and their bodies to men who were stronger and more virile than they were, they could somehow share in their masters' strength and manliness. These fallacious beliefs were fine with Russ; he wasn't about to disabuse guys like Gary of the errors of their thinking. He was going to enjoy them, as he was enjoying Gary now.

Gripping the handle of the paddle firmly, Russ lifted the instrument high over his head. He trained his eye on the center of Gary's ass, at the middle of the cleavage that separated his firm, but soft, smooth buttocks. His arm flashed down. The paddle's blade struck Gary's ass a tremendous blow, flattening the sleek mounds beneath its impact. Against the muscles of Gary's backside, the paddle made a loud CRACK! that sounded almost like a gunshot. Gary's legs kicked hard, and his chest and shoulders rocked upward. Crying out, he threw a hand behind him, to protect his ass, but the action was pure reflex and had come far too late to spare him the pain that exploded through his buttocks.

"Move your hand," Russ ordered.

Gary rubbed the injured area.

"Now," Russ commanded, "or the next ones will be worse."

Reluctantly, Gary removed his hand, tucking his arm back under his chest.

Russ smiled. Every time Gary obeyed, he was that much closer to total subservience. To reward Gary's obedience, Russ made the next couple of swats much lighter, but they still elicited a cry of startled pain from his victim.

Russ paused, massaging Gary's ass. His buttocks were bright red, with swirls of purple and black and blue blotches. The colors alone kept Russ hard. He was proud of his handiwork. He rarely spoke to someone he spanked during the spanking itself. Lectures came before or after, not during, a spanking session. However, he decided, it wouldn't hurt to ask a simple question. "Are you enjoying your spanking?" he asked.

Gary ignored him.

Russ brought the paddle's blade down savagely upon Gary's upturned buttocks. 

"Ow!"

"Answer me, bitch," Russ ordered.

"Yes," Gary admitted.

Russ smacked his ass with the paddle, and Gary lunged forward, crying out. "For your sake, I hope you answered truthfully," he said, "because there's plenty more to enjoy." He punctuated his words with another swing of the paddle, and Gary yelped.

Once more, Russ paused to admire his handiwork. A nice pattern of light bruises was beginning to emerge upon Gary's battered buttocks. The undersides were decorated with small blotches of bruised flesh, and the skin on either side of the cleavage was adorned with larger contusions. In one or two areas, however, Gary's bottom was becoming too dark with the trapped blood of broken capillaries. It was time to take a break.

Russ gave Gary's rump a light slap with his hand. "Move your ass. I'm getting up."

Gary slid his body to the right, found the floor with his feet, and hoisted himself erect.

Russ rose. "Stay where you are," he commanded Gary. "Don't move."

Russ went into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door, and, a few seconds later, Gary heard him urinating.

A minute later, Russ returned, carrying the plastic cup he'd removed from the plastic wrap in which it had been packaged. It was one of the several that motels left in motel bathrooms for guests' use.

The cup contained a pale yellow liquid, Gary noticed.

Russ crossed the bedroom and handed the container to Gary. "Drink this," he ordered.

Gary looked at the light amber liquid. "What is it?" he asked suspiciously.

"You don't ask questions," Russ told him. "Drink it."

Gary frowned. "It looks like piss," he complained. Gingerly, he sniffed the contents of the cup. His frown deepened. "It smells like piss, too."

"It is piss," Russ admitted, "my piss."

Gary set the cup down on the night table. "I'm not drinking piss," he declared.

"Drink it!" Russ demanded.

"Drink it yourself."

Russ stepped past Gary. He retrieved his implements from the night table, stowing the belts and paddle in the overnight bag he'd used to bring them into the room. Then, he started dressing.

Gary looked concerned. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"But what about the rest of the spankings?"

Russ had put on his shirt. Now, he picked up his underpants.

"What about the other spankings?" Gary repeated.

Russ paused. "Are you going to drink the piss?"

"No."

Russ shrugged. "Then, I'm going home." He pulled on his underwear and picked up his trousers.

"You said you'd respect my limits," Gary reminded him.

"I am," Russ returned. "You don't want to drink the piss, don't drink it." He tugged on his trousers.

"Piss isn't sanitary," Gary said.

"It's sterile."

Gary looked doubtful. "Is it?"

"Germ free."

Russ could see that Gary was debating the issue of whether he should drink the piss.

In a moment, Russ would know just how submissive Gary was and whether it was worth continuing their association. He was about to buckle his belt when he saw Gary's shoulders slump and heard him sigh. "All right," he acquiesced, "I'll drink it."

"I'm waiting." Russ watched him closely.

Gary picked up the clear plastic container. It was warm. He looked into the cup. The piss was not dark yellow or yellow-orange. It was pale yellow, almost clear, and tiny bubbles floated upon its surface. The urine smelled okay--different, but okay. Kind of spicy.

He lowered the cup from his nose to his lips. Here goes, he thought, screwing up his face as he parted his lips and tipped the cup forward, letting a bit of the yellow liquid dribble past his lower front teeth and onto his tongue.

It wasn't nearly as bad as Gary had supposed it might be. It wasn't foul tasting at all. It was a little bitter, but not much, and rather salty. There were also a variety of unusual, somewhat disturbing tastes that suggested mysterious origins deep within the organs of Russ' body. Gary tried to remember the brief anatomy lessons he'd learned as a high school biology student. Piss was filtered through the kidneys and stored in the bladder, wasn't it? He thought so. There were probably a host of chemicals in urine. Sugars and proteins and vitamins and minerals and hormones. The combination of these ingredients combined to give the piss its unusual flavor and distinct bouquet. Bouquet? Gary wondered why he'd used such a poetic word for the urine's scent. Maybe he found the idea of drinking Russ' piss exciting and, well, poetic. He swallowed the sip he'd taken and drank a second, deeper draught, aware that Russ, watching him, was smiling.

As Gary drank more from the cup, Russ undressed again.

"That wasn't bad," Gary told the man who'd poured his drink. "Actually, it was pretty good."

Russ lifted his semi-erect penis. "There's plenty more on tap," he assured Gary.

"I thought it would be darker."

"Dark urine is a sign of dehydration," Russ instructed him. "If you're drinking the amount of water you should be drinking, your piss should be very pale yellow or clear, like mine."

"I guess I need to drink more water," Gary observed. "My piss is usually dark yellow."

"You're lucky I don't make you drink your own pee," Russ admonished his charge.

There was only another gulp of urine in the cup. Gary raised it to his lips, sipped the strange beverage, and, before swallowing, rinsed his mouth with the golden nectar. Finally, he gulped down the libation. Setting the empty cup on the night table, he looked at Russ. "What's next?"

Russ was pleased with Gary. Although he'd seemed intent upon defying him when it had come to drinking Russ' piss, Gary had acquiesced, which meant that he was a truly submissive guy. That meant that, in time, Russ would be able to fuck him in the ass, despite Gary's insistence that he would never be a party to anal intercourse. Once he'd fucked him, Russ would own him. For now, however, Gary's next spanking awaited. He retrieved the instruments from his overnight bag and set them back on the night table. Picking up the wide belt, he folded the thick leather band into a loop and jerked the ends in opposite directions. The belt made a loud, ominous SNAP!

"Kneel at the side of the bed," Russ ordered Gary. Bend forward, laying your upper body across the mattress."

Gary adopted the position described by Russ.

Russ stepped up behind Gary. He paused, considering the red and purple ass cheeks he'd just decorated with light bruises. He'd used his hand and the paddle. Next, he'd employ the thick, wide belt.

It was time for the welts to begin.



First Timer: The Wide Belt



SNAP!

Russ pulled the ends of the looped belt in opposite directions a second and a third time--

SNAP! SNAP!

Gary had assumed the position that Russ had ordered him to adopt. Kneeling by the side of the bed, he'd laid his upper body down, across the mattress. His red and purple ass, decorated with small bruises along either side of the cleavage between his buttocks and along the undersides of his ass cheeks, was a perfect target for the belt. Having taken up his position behind Gary, Russ had snapped the belt a few times to make Gary more anxious. Part of a good spanking, Russ had learned, was to frighten the person whose ass was to be beaten. Snapping the belt that was going to be used to inflict the pain and suffering on the waiting buttocks was a good way to affect such fear.

Gary had closed his eyes. He was holding his breath, and his teeth were gritted. Instinct told him to clench the muscles in his ass, too, but he resisted this impulse, knowing that he'd increase the pain if he tightened these muscles. The beating was going to hurt enough as it was--it was going to hurt plenty--even with his gluteus maximi relaxed. There was no need to increase the pain.

Russ didn't want to strike Gary's bottom too many times with the wide belt. The cruel band of thick leather would smart almost unbearably. If Russ inflicted too much pain, Gary might rebel or even end the spanking session. Besides, if he delivered the lashes well, each of them would be exquisitely painful. They'd bite deeply into Gary's bruised buttocks, leaving welts that would hurt for hours. The raised ridges would be red at first, but, over time, they would turn purple or even brown, adding to the color and beauty of the hues and marks with which Russ had adorned the flesh of Gary's behind.

Since he was going to deliver only half a dozen strokes of the belt, it was critically important to target the strikes so that they would cause the greatest pain and add as much as possible to the total effect of the beating. Timing was important, too. If Russ delivered the lashes too slowly or too quickly, the cumulative effect of their sting would be lessened. After giving the matter due consideration, Russ raised the belt over his head and brought it down fast and hard. The leather strap made a loud CRACK! as it struck Gary's ass cheeks, creating a long, wide furrow in the soft, sleek flesh that sprang back as Russ lifted the belt again into the air. The pathway that the leather strap had formed in the flesh of Gary's ass was a bright, angry red. Within moments, the red deepened to purple, edged with a dark blue-black color.

As the belt sank into Gary's flesh, he tried to leap forward, but he was pinned in place by the side of the bed beside which he was kneeling and over which he leaned. He'd folded his arms under his chest, but his shoulders jerked upward from the mattress, and he lifted his head, howling with pain. Tears had welled in his eyes, and he gasped deeply. His heart beat fast, and his pulse raced. He moaned and whimpered.

"Lie down!" Russ ordered. He waited for Gary to obey his command.

Within moments, still gasping and whimpering, Gary did as he'd been told.

Russ pulled the ends of the looped belt in opposite directions: SNAP! He had a full erection. His cock stood straight up from his groin, rigid and swollen with blood. His balls were high inside his tightened scrotum. He took quick, shallow breaths, fighting o control his excitement. Concentrate! he told himself. The sight of Gary's misery enflamed Russ passion, but he forced himself to repress his urge to follow the initial stroke with as many more as he could deliver before his quarry managed to evade him or, worse yet, escape. To deliver the spankings to their best effect required self-control, not surrender to a maniacal bloodlust. To expend the all-but-overwhelming desire to beat Gary's ass as frenziedly as his arm, strength, and stamina would allow, Russ jerked the ends of the belt again and again: SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!

Russ intended to deliver the first three blows at intervals of fifteen seconds. He'd rain the remaining three strokes down as rapidly and as hard as he could, one atop the other, which would create such pain that Gary would be reduced to trembling and tears. Russ raised the belt high overhead. Silently, he counted down the seconds: fifteen. . . fourteen. . . thirteen. . . twelve. . . eleven. . . ten. . . nine. . . eight. . . seven . . . six. . . five. . . four . . .

three. . .

two. . .

one!

The belt swooshed through the air. Russ' aim, as always, was sure, and the wide leather strap, describing a perfect arc, connected solidly with Gary's ass cheeks, precisely on target, along the same red-purple band that the first stroke had marked upon his buttocks.

Gary shoved his upper body up, pushing off the mattress with his folded arms. At the same time, he howled. Although, from his vantage point behind Gary, Russ could not see his victim's face, he had seen enough guys' expressions at such a moment as this to know, in general, what he would have seen were he able to observe Gary's features. Gary's brow would have been both furrowed and knitted; his eyes would have been shut tightly; his down-turned mouth would have gaped wide; and the tendons in his neck would have stood out like cables or cords in his throat. Most likely, tears would have sprung into his eyes. Gary's howl of agony was replaced with moans and groans, which, as the pain spread through his fiery buttocks, were, in turn, replaced with a pathetic mewling sound.

Russ waited, counting off fifteen seconds again, before bringing the wide belt down with a devastating impact upon Gary's black and blue bottom, precisely upon the band of flesh that had already been the recipient of two terrible strokes of the leather. Again, the force of the blow made a deep impression in Gary's ass cheeks--and an even deeper one, Russ thought, in his thoughts--and he launched his upper body into the air, screaming as the pain ignited a series of fiery sensations that burned through his buttocks as if they were tendrils of lava erupting from the volcanoes of welts and bruises that rose in ridges and weals up and down and across his well-marked and colorful bottom. Another howl of indignation and pain sounded in the room as Gary gave vent to the anguish, physical and emotional, that Russ' latest stroke had aroused within his body and soul.

Russ' cock was like steel, as hard as it had ever been. Gary's obvious distress was exciting. He delighted in the other man's pain and suffering. Russ wasn't sure why he enjoyed seeing another guy's misery, but he did. It was a source of satisfaction to him.

In his younger years, Russ had researched sadism or, rather sadomasochism, in an effort both to understand himself, as a dominant man, and to understand submissive men. The term "sadist," he'd learned, was derived from the name of the Marquis de Sade, the French writer of novels concerning the domination and of others and the infliction upon them of painful and cruel emotional, physical, and sexual abuses. The term "masochist" was derived from the name of Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, the author of Venus in Furs, which was an early novel featuring a protagonist who thoroughly enjoyed being humiliated and controlled. As opposites, the two proclivities complemented one another, so that it was natural for sadists to associate themselves with masochists and vice versa. Hence, the term "sadomasochism" was invented to identify this complementary psychosexual dynamic.

The fact that neither sadist nor masochist enjoyed giving or receiving pain for pain's sake led researchers to the understanding that sadomasochism was more about domination and submission than it was about sex per se. Indeed, sex was not an absolutely necessary component of, or vehicle for, the expression of sadomasochistic behavior. Spankings without overt sex, for example, could suffice to satisfy the sadomasochistic impulse, although sex--and, more specifically, humiliation through sexual means--certainly enhanced such spankings, which is why many parties included masturbation, fellatio or cunnilingus, and anal intercourse with spankings per se.

The essential components of sadomasochism were dominance and submission, which were associated not with physical or sexual behavior so much as they were with emotional traits and needs. The sadist needed to control, and the masochist needed to be controlled. Those who, unlike sadists and masochists, experienced pleasure in pursuing pain for its own sake were algolagnists. Russ certainly was not an algolagnist, and he doubted very much that Gary was one. Russ was all about control; Gary was all about being controlled. The administering and receipt of pain were expressions of their respective needs to dominate and to submit, to control and to be controlled, which, technically speaking, put them into the sadomasochistic camp.

Initially, thinking of himself as a sadist had disturbed Russ; the word, after all, had, in the popular mind, a negative connotation. The unenlightened regarded it as a form of mental illness, as they did masochism. Those who understood the complex nature of such traits and needs knew better. There was a sadistic and a masochistic element in all people, even young children, just as there was, in Russ' view, the potential for bisexuality in all people. It was merely, like most emotional aspects of the personality, a matter the degree to which people were motivated to act upon these needs that made one qualify as a "sadist" or a "masochist" per se. In some, the urge to dominate and control others was much stronger than it was among the general population. In others, the need to submit and to be controlled was much more evident than among the rest of humanity.

Statistically, sadists and masochists were "abnormal" in the sense that they would not, among the general population, fit the middle of a bell curve. However, the term "abnormal" was just that--a statistical, not a psychological, term. Being normal or abnormal had nothing to do with mental illness. Once Russ had come to understand this, thinking of himself as a sadist no longer bothered him, although he did prefer to think of himself as the dominant partner who interacted, emotionally, physically, and sexually, with a submissive partner. Of course, a wide array of socially conditioned emotional responses to domination and submission, including feelings of anxiety, embarrassment, fear, guilt, humiliation, inferiority, shame, and personal worthlessness for the submissive partner and of exhilaration, power, pride, strength, superiority, personal worthiness, and virility for the dominant partner, added to the complex richness and enjoyment of dominant-submissive behavior.

In studying domination and submission, Russ had learned that there was, besides the emotional satisfaction of controlling another person or being controlled by another person, also a strong biological basis for the enjoyment of such behavior. Like love, sex, violence, and pain were associated with the release of hormones and other organically produced chemicals, among which were testosterone (more for the dominant and less for the submissive partner), endorphins, lactic acid, serotonin, and melatonin.

Richard Freiherr von Krafft-Ebing complied the first collection of case studies of sadomasochistic behavior in his 1886 anthology, Psychopathia Sexualis, but it was Sigmund Freud who recognized the dual nature of sadistic and masochistic personalities and created the combined term "sadomasochism," recognizing that many sadistic and masochistic individuals were able to switch roles, adopting either the dominant or the submissive part in these activities. Both Frafft-Ebing and Freud understood sadism as comprising a distortion of the aggressive component of male sexuality. Freud believed that masochism was a secondary trait, however, and, in men, represented a transformation of the sadistic impulse. Sadomasochism, he believed, was a natural characteristic of female sexuality.

Havelock Ellis made it clear that sadism and masochism were the flip sides of the same emotional coin, and that they were, as such, complementary, not antagonistic, emotional states. He also demonstrated that sadists and masochists were interested in expressing their tendencies to dominate and to control or to be dominated and controlled in a context of love rather than abuse and for the mutual pleasure of both partners rather than only one.

For Gilles Deleuze, sadism and masochism are distinct and separate impulses that share the common motive of controlling another person. The masochist delayed gratification permanently rather than temporarily in his quest to transform the sadist into a cold and callous person. The sadist, on the other hand, derived pleasure from exercising power over the masochist as a means of uniting his own superego and id in an attempt to overcome the demands of his ego or conscience.

Feminists saw sadomasochism as part and parcel of Western culture in which men are regarded as sexually and socially dominant and women are regarded as sexually and socially submissive.

Masochists, or submissive people, had been found to enjoy being dominated and controlled for many reasons, including therapeutic escape from stress, responsibility, or guilt through the adoption of a role of compliance or helplessness or the sense of being protected by a strong, powerful, controlling, parental figure. Sadists might enjoy dominating and controlling others because of the sense of power and authority that results from such activities or from their vicarious enjoyment of the submissive person's suffering.

Erotic spanking, Russ discovered, was regarded by psychologists as a form of sadomasochistic play in which the hand, a ruler, a hairbrush, a paddle, a switch, a belt, a cane, a crop, a martinet, or a whip could be used to inflict pain and suffering, usually upon the buttocks, while the recipient was fully naked so as to add to his or her sense of humiliation and arousal and often in association with role playing on the part of both parties. Spankings could involve a variety of positions, with the recipient of the spanking lying over the spanker's knee or lap, lying face down on a bed, stooping over the back of a chair, standing with his or her hands on his or her knees, lying supine with his or her genitals exposed for added humiliation, kneeling on a bed or an ottoman, stooping over with his or her hands on the floor, bending under the spanker's arm, bending over a wooden horse or a birching block, or resting upon the hands (or elbows) and knees.

Some adult bookstores, Russ found, offered "spanking kits" for sale to devotees of spanking, or spankophiles. These kits included such implements as paddles, belts, whips, and canes; latex gloves; antiseptic ointments; butt plugs and dildos; condoms; aspirins; bandages and tape; ginger root, chili pepper, and ginger; instruction booklets regarding erotic spanking, anal intercourse, figging, anal fisting, and other forms of butt play; and even liniments that, rubbed into the skin, cause an intense burning sensation in the buttocks. All these items came with a black valise that resembles the medical bags that physicians often carried in the days during which they had made house calls. Erotic spanking, it seemed, was becoming big business; Russ had seen estimates that claimed that as many as one-third to two-thirds of the general population of adults were interested in spanking or being spanked.

All these thoughts had flowed through Russ' mind as, cock erect, he'd stood behind Gary, waiting for the right moment to inflict the remaining three strokes he'd decided to administer with the wide belt. He'd delivered the first of the half dozen lashes at fifteen-second intervals to one another. The last three, he would inflict one atop the other, as fast as he could make the belt fly, directing each into the same pathway as the first three strokes had taken across the soft, sleek mounds of Gary's ass. The combined pain of these last three, lightning-quick strokes would be almost unbearable.

Russ tightened his fist upon the doubled loop of leather, raised his hand high over his head, and, keeping sight, always, of his intended target, flung the belt as hard and fast as he could, down upon Gary's helpless, waiting buttocks. Three times in rapid succession, the belt whooshed through the air, crashing deep into the bruised muscles of Gary's ass cheeks: CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Gary's responses did not disappoint Russ. He grinned as he heard Gary's screams, one following immediately upon the former in a rising crescendo of frenzy and anguish, mimicking the threefold delivery of blows he'd received from the belt: UGH! UGH! UGH! All the while, Gary rolled back and forth upon the bed, twisting and turning as, his hands having flung themselves rearward, clutched and rubbed his enflamed buttocks. The shrieks were replaced with gurgling moans. Gary's face was a distorted mask of pain and suffering, his features twisted with anguish and suffering. Tears ran from his tightly closed eyes, flowing copiously down his contracted cheeks. His ass was an array of discolorations, bruises, and, now, pinwheel-shaped welts, spiraling bruises, and ridgeline swellings.

This particular coloration and composition was certainly one of Russ' greatest masterpieces. It was no wonder, he thought, that his cock was like steel.

With his own hand, Russ had painted the background colors--the pinks and reds, the purples, the blacks, and the blues--of his canvas. With the wide belt, he had overlaid a constellation of darkening contusions. The effects were beautiful to behold, but his masterpiece was not yet finished. To complete the work of art, he needed a different instrument. He placed the wide belt back on the night table beside the bed, where Gary continued to writhe and moan, and picked up the next tool to be used--the cruelest of all the implements at his disposal--the thin belt.

It was time for the bloodletting to begin. . . .



First Timer with Philip



'Clinches that led to a voyage of divine discovery.'

"It's my body and I shall do what I like with it" Philip said in no uncertain terms.

He was a good pal and I was concerned for his welfare and other things which were important to me, especially now since we had both developed a wonderful intimate relationship together.

His fuck is sublime and I don't think I could ever go without it now.

"I was simply concerned that's all" I continued. "You've not been looking yourself lately, you are looking pasty and you seem to be putting off weight."

"Well, if you don't want my body any more, you just have to say Pete!" Philip scorned.

"Don't be silly, I want you for both your body and you!" I said trying to pacify him with a soft caress across his forehead.

Looking back I remembered how our friendship grew from just that, to what it is now, and what inspired that.

Philip was always sensitive and I guess that is what drew me to him, that day when he enveloped into tears when his poor mother died of cancer two years ago.

I simply comforted him by coaxing him to rest his head on my shoulder, whispering just to let all the emotion out and he would feel much better for it..

I had never envisaged what would happen then, because we were just buddies and nothing more, just normal guys who enjoyed playing bowls and going to a football match occasionally.

Until then there was never any indication that our friendship would blossom into what it is now.

It is odd how things happen in life. Like me, Philip likes to talk about philosophy and how we came about and things like that.

He impressed me one day when he said that our bodies were simply the framework for our souls. Initially I did not take much notice because Philip was apt to go off on one of his semi-religious themes -but when he explained that the body was simply a tool adapted for our use on earth and when we are done with it, when we grow old and the flesh deteriorates, it is assumed we apparently die and that is that.

It all sounded a but gruesome for me but on thinking about it he had a point,

"But we don't die Pete, our souls live on - our real selves and it is just the flesh that returns to dust, but never our souls, and that's the difference don't you see."

I nodded. His words were deep - he is a deep thinker to be sure but the rocket to the moon came when he added that we should take advantage of this wonderful form with which we have been adorned ,and let our souls soak in the pleasures of the flesh.

And that is when he rested his head on my shoulder; his tears soon dried, and I gently veered him away again, wiping his brow, Then something happened that changed our lives completely,

He touched me intimately and sunk his head into my shoulder once more, murmuring how he thought I was so wonderful and loving.

Initially of course I was not ready for this and promptly grasped his hand and jerked it away. Looking back I guess it was because of my upbringing and how my parents abhorred anything that they thought was so unnatural, such as a gay relationship, dad stating his opinion that the true reason for congress among two human beings was to reproduce their own kind, and this was virtually impossible for those of the same sex to do.

The idea that such a one sex relationship could be based on true love never occurred to him, because he thought of it purely from a sexual viewpoint, thinking that all gay people were toilet bashers and so forth.

So although I had certain feelings about guys I always kept them shut up - the feelings that is - because I thought they were detestable and unnatural because that is what my father said.

So when Philip touched me there - and although I was not adverse to his touch, indeed it stirred me, my mindset was that it was wrong and I should not encourage.

Philip seemed disappointed that I had stopped him. His eyes focussed on mine and I felt he was truly embarrassed and confused.

"I'm so sorry Pete, I didn't mean to do that, I just don't know why I did, it seemed natural that's all, I wanted to cement our friendship to show my respect and love for you. There I've said it, For what it's worth I do love you Pete, So ff you think that will spoil our friendship I will try to understand, but I can't disguise my natural feelings."

We simply sat there, on the sofa in my flat. I knew then that what my Dad said was a load f rubbish.

I needed to be honest with myself. I felt the same way about Philip and no mistake, I guess I had for a long time but my mindset would never accept it.

I wanted Philip, I really did. I was besotted by him and when he touched me the stirrings confirmed that.

For while no more words were spoken between us, I didn't want to lose Philip as much as he didn't want to lose me.

I grasped his hand once more and returned it to the place it was. He smiled gorgeously. A last we were on track, At last we could share and share alike. Bodies were made to be a tool we could use during our tenancy on earth, of course they were, and Philip acknowledged this, but they were also made to be enjoyed by lovers who deemed to give each other just as much pleasure and gratification as was humanly possible, given all the so wonderful consensual diversions there were. To give and to take and enjoy to the utmost. Philip and I were indeed embarking on a wonderful new experience together.

So I let his hand explore. It was so divine. What had I been missing just because of my parents bad upbringing?, but then I was told that in their day things were so very different and homosexuality would certainly have been snubbed at, such as was sex out of marriage, they lived in a completely different world and thank God it has changed, else guys like us would have been deemed contemptible and the rest of it.

So from then on it was fine for us to share each other mind and body and those first clinches led us onto a voyage of divine discovery and joy, seeking the ways we could best thrill and gratify each other.

So when Philip unzipped me, no longer did I feel uncomfortable - I felt complete and so very much enjoyed his exploration of me. It seemed right and natural for me to remove my jeans and prance about in my boxer shorts, and he too. And it seemed right we should see the funny side of that, It was another learning curve, to laugh together as we tried different things with each other. I guess then, if we did anything we were apprehensive about - it could be put down to a joke and that was an escape. But that was in the early days because we soon discovered just what makes each other tick , but it is always fun trying new things as and when they come to us,

Who would have thought that I would like and enjoy a bit of harmful spanking indeed, but there was something extremely attractive about the way Philip looked when he bent over to take me orally on the settee, that gorgeous hind looking so absolutely wonderful, that was simply asking to be spanked and rubbed with lotion and mollycoddled.

It was that which led to something more and it was lovely too. It started during the lotion massage, when I inadvertently teased just a little finger full of lotion into the gorgeous crevice between, something I had not tried before, we were still learning about each other. A one sex relationship can be many things and not always penetrative, but from that first time Philip found me and adorned me sexually and even tasted me, we enjoyed for a time just the touching and sucking and all the so wonderful and thrilling thrills and joys that could bring remembering the first time I made Philip cum so beautifully, the way he hunched up his hind as I brought him to the fore, that beautiful firm and pleasured cock spurting like a volcano. It was all utterly fantastic that I could do all those wonderful things with Philip and in return he would do the same. Those so wonderful times we just spent simply exploring each other instinctively, hearing the joy in each others moans as we did so,

But now we were ardently approaching a new dimension. I parted his cheeks just a little primarily to gain better access to him there, That beautifully formed brown orifice looked so utterly enticing, it really did. I was surprising myself doing the things I was doing, gently rimming him, the softness there created by the lotion which did what it said on the bottle, to soften and ease.

It was heaven to hear Philip sigh as I began to rim him there, First one finger, my small index finger, and then two fingers, just gently stretching it more around and around carefully to see what the reaction would be. The way he squeezed my cock as I rubbed up and creamed his balls was a good response and I was imagining just what it would be like to fuck him. I wanted to try and I guess the way I started to gently thrust my fingers into him, stretching him wider and wider there, he got the message.

"I'm not sure Pete, I want you that way, I really do, but I have never done that before so be gentle huh?"

I told him I loved and respected him and would never do anything he would not want, but of he'd like for me to try, just to see how it goes and then, if he would rather not I would understand . But I knew if he had stopped me I would try again another time. In my way of thinking that ass was just waiting to be initiated, everything was pointing to it, I whispered that we deserve to enjoy the bodies which wrapped our souls, emulating his philosophical thinking and he seemed to go along with that just fine.

He arched his hind up for me in presentation and it was a sheer delight to see him wiggle just slightly. Like he was offering it to me for service, this would be a prelude to everything that was to follow when we were to explore the joy of role play, when he would act the servant and I the master.

But the stance was not quite right for me to enter him comfortably, so we twisted and turned and tried different positions, but the best always came back to him spread beautifully on all fours, cushions under his knees and elbows. At last we found the perfect positions where I could line up to him perfectly and there it was, all ready and waiting and looking so utterly fuckable, But something told me I just had to do something else first, it just looked so beautiful and daunting that ass of his, I just had to go down to him, in a moment I instinctively pushed my face between those lovely contours and got to work orally, it was so lovely and the way he squirmed and moved to my sucks was delicious. It was an experience I would say to be complimentary to the forthcoming fuck ,and now Philip was well ready for it. He yearned for me to fuck him there and then.

I gave him a few heart slaps with ,erection and loved the way it bounced so provocatively. 

For the first time we were about to discover just how wonderful it is to share the most ultimate human experience, the leading up it , the touching and feeling, everything that made the actual entry so enthralling and beautiful.

Philip was virgin ass and I had the pleasure of breaking him in. It was good and I took time to gently and slowly insert my full pulse into him, he grunted and groaned at first but said not to stop. I was glad he did because already I felt the warmth of him inside and I so wanted to push it all the way into him..

We helped each other achieve full insertion, he was tight and forbearing, I gripped his thighs ardently to give me the support I needed for full thrust and the fuck was imminent.- he moved from side to side to help me into him and he made those certain throaty noised that complimented the fuck..

It was simply the most beautiful thing I have ever done with anybody and I am glad it was a first timer with Philip.

We built up to a frenzy and every time I thrust it into him I felt and heard my balls slap his thighs.

Afterwards Philip was more loving than ever, it seemed we had reached the ultimate of our wonderful relationship and what that could bring.

Sure thing we would enjoy each other's bodies to the full and ultimately he wanted my cock just as much as I wanted his ass, so it was a very compatible sharing experience and always a learning one too, because there was so very much more we could do to enjoy our wonderful new discovery of each other.

For those guys who has hang-ups about being gay - forget them, just enjoy the body beautiful while you can, find the right partner as I did and your frustrations will be a thing of the past, and the future will open its doors gladly for you. For me a whole new horizon opened and a new venture sealed,



First Timers



Ryann was the most adventurous of her friends, but for some reason, this did not translate into her relationships. In this aspect of her life, she was shy and cautious, always looking before she leaped. She supposed this was why she was the last of her girlfriends with her virginity in tact and she hated herself for it. 

Ryann had been a late bloomer, only becoming pretty in her Junior years of high school. Sure she'd dated, and she'd fooled around with the guys she had, but it had never gotten as far as actual sex. At nineteen, she was horny as hell and tired of being a virgin. For the longest time, she'd been thinking about sleeping with her best friend, Charley. They'd grown up together, and had always had a mutual attraction for each other, but each were too shy, and yet too comfortable to do anything about it. 

Charley had thought Ryann was pretty long before it had become obvious to anyone else. He has loved her at a close range as a friend and sexually from afar for years. After her curves had come in, it was all he could do not to touch her every chance he got. These days, the slightest hug or brushes of her hand made him want to take her hand and drag her off. To his bed, her bed, the back of his car, anywhere would have been fine really, all he could imagine was pulling her t-shirt off and feeling her skin against his while he ran his hands through her long, caramel-colored hair. 

The conversation was so simple; no one else would have thought anything of it. Ryann's house, movies, you bring the snacks. Six hours later, they sat in the darkness watching an old horror film. Though Ryann wasn't the least bit afraid, as soon as the villain appeared on screen, she screamed and jumped into Charley's lap. 

"You're not scared are you?" His tone was teasing, and he tickled her playfully. "Of course not," she said, going to swat him, but he caught her in mid-air. When she didn't pull away, he laced his fingers through hers, squeezing her hand, gently. Though he desperately wanted it to go further, he went to turn his attention back to the movie, figuring it was best not to push his luck. 

Ryann took a deep breath; she should have known she would have to be the initiator. Before she could change her mind, she leaned in to kiss him. Though shocked, Charley's response was instantaneous, having imagined this moment so many times before. He wrapped his tanned arms around her, pushing at the small of her back with his hand, trying to pull her as close as possible. 

Ryann was giving herself over to him and he was in no position to protest. Carefully, he left a trail of kisses down her neck, stopping at her collar bone, silently asking her permission to take it further. She gave a little whimper, then softly whispered, "it's ok." It was all the permission Charley needed. 

He gently gripped the edge of the hem of her t-shirt and slid it over her head. She had small breasts and wore baggy shirts, so Charley was shocked to find her braless. The thought thrilled them as he cupped them in his hands, running a thumb over each tender nipple, causing them to harden at his touch. Ryann gasped, never imagining her friend's hands could feel so good. Suddenly, all she could think of was ripping his shirt off, though shyness prevented such a drastic act.

As an alternative, she pulled his shirt quickly over his head, feeling the strength in his chest as she did. She kissed his collarbone and started making her way down towards his pecks. She licked each nipple carefully, teasing him, and felt him twitch through his jeans. Though every fiber in her screamed for her to rip his clothes off, she asked, "are you sure?" He nodded. It was all the permission she needed. 

She undid his belt with ease, and at the same time, felt her own jeans being slid away, though she hadn't realized he had been removing them. Over the years, Ryann had had to listen to Charley brag on the size of his member, and as she peeled away his boxers, she found he hadn't been exaggerating. She gave a tiny gasp of delight, taking him in her mouth. She licked and sucked as if it were an ice cream cone melting quickly on a summer day. He groaned with pleasure, "If you keep that up, it could be over here and now." Ryann didn't want that, and she moved slowly back up his body, kissing across his stomach and going back to his nipples, before finally coming up to his neck and begin kissing and biting lightly at it. 

Charley began kissing her cheek, the only thing he could reach, and worked his neck away from her. As good as it felt, it was her turn. He kissed down to her breasts, sucking on them greedily. She moaned, so softly it was barely audible, but it was all it took to make him even harder than he had been before. He kissed down her soft stomach, enjoying the feel of her silky, tanned skin beneath his lips. She shuddered in anticipation. 

After what seemed like a decade, she felt his lips on her clit, exceptionally light, asking her permission. She pushed her fingers through his hair, telling him to go for it. He licked, first in short little strokes, then in long, wet, slow ones, alternating between this and gently sucking her clit. It was pure bliss. She let out a groan, louder than she meant to. She gasped, then whispered, "I want you inside of me."

Ryann reached for the condom that she had slipped into the back pocket of her jeans, now discarded on the floor, quickly tearing off the foil wrapper, and beginning to work it on to him with her mouth, hoping she was doing it correctly, though Charley's gasp of pleasure told her she was doing just fine. 

She slid up his body, kissing him hard on the mouth as she felt him slide inside her. She let out a noise of both pain and pleasure, digging her nails into his back. She began to move with the rhythm of his body, as he pulled her closer to him with each thrust. Suddenly she felt her muscles tighten, and was shocked to find Charley's had done the same. They dug their fingers into one another as they came, leaving marks that would tomorrow remind them of their deed. 

Exhausted, Ryann rested her head against his chest. "Hey," Charley said, "if it was that good the first time, just imagine how it'll be with a little practice." 



First Timers



Author's note: This is not my first effort on this site, but it is my first in this category. Please provide feedback and criticism. I am always interested in all feedback, if for no other reason than to confirm that somebody's reading what I write. 

*

Mike stared at the computer just as he had for months, but tonight was different. Tonight the screen contained the private message he had been hoping to receive. He'd been trolling various BDSM oriented websites night after night and had finally hooked up with a woman; well he hoped it was a woman, who wanted to meet in-person. They'd been carrying on a conversation about their mutual interest in trying their hand at something new. Both were dissatisfied with the current state of their vanilla sex lives but neither was ready to open up to their partner about their desire to drift over the line experimentally. Each figured that an impersonal meeting with a stranger might be the best way to find out whether or not this fantasy was something worth pursuing.

Mike's sex life had degenerated to a regular once a week encounter with his live-in girlfriend, Annie. She seemed to be happy with their sex life; at least she hadn't complained. Both Mike and Annie were hard-working thirty-somethings who came home each night to their shared digs, had dinner together, and then quietly adjourned to their computers in their respective private spaces in the apartment. Mike spent his time in his "office" indulging his fantasies on BDSM websites. The thought of controlling a lover, of binding and immobilizing a beautiful woman while he explored and used her body made him stiff as a steel rod. Annie was beautiful, built, and very desirable, but he was afraid that if he tried to introduce his fantasies into their bedroom that she would end their relationship and in every other aspect of that relationship they were highly compatible. Unwilling to roll the dice, he kept his fantasies private. Annie's computer and desk were in the main living area of the apartment. For all he knew she spent her evenings updating her Facebook page or chatting with her girlfriends.

It was a simple matter to convince Annie that he was leaving town for the weekend on business. He did just that often, a half-dozen or more times a year. He'd rented a hotel room in one of the nicer hotels in the city just in case his hopes turned into reality. One weekend and he'd be done with it, he thought. Annie need never know. One and done. After that he'd address his concerns directly to her and their relationship in the bedroom would either change or they'd make their way separately. First he had to see if the reality of his fantasies was worth taking such a radical step.

Mike, in the person of Stephen" had told his on-line companion who went by the name of "Angelica" that he would be waiting in the hotel restaurant on Friday night at eight o'clock. He told her to look for a man sitting alone at a quiet table in the back. The table would have a centerpiece consisting of a pair of red roses. He would be sitting with his back to the room and if she still wanted to go ahead with it, she would come and sit silently at his table. From the moment she sat down, he had told her, she would be his to command. They had already discussed the nature of the trust and responsibility that each role player had in such encounters. "Angelica" had written that she understood the need for trust and for his part "Stephen" had assured her that he was a novice who just wanted to give it a try and that he was not some on-line predator looking for an easy score, or worse. He'd suggested that she leave some kind of note at home telling where she was, but not necessarily what she was doing, as a kind of security blanket. (They'd exchanged "LOL's" over that one.) She would always be free to leave if she lost trust or just got cold feet. All she had to do was to wear something sexy under her outfit. He would provide the rest. 

Angelica walked into the restaurant at exactly eight as she had been instructed and quietly surveyed the room for her "date." After a few moments she saw a man sitting alone at a table in the back of the room. There were two red roses on the table as promised. It was the moment of truth. She hesitated, straightened her tight-fitting skirt, and strode towards the table, high heels clicking on the hardwood floor. She walked around the man in the chair, eyes down and sat down. She looked up and gasped. "Mike?" she blurted out in amazement.

Mike was as surprised as she was but retained his composure. After a moment or two of silence he looked across the table and as he gazed directly at Annie he spoke. "My name is Stephen," Mike said calmly. "You must be Angelique." His heart was racing but his face did not betray him. What the hell was Annie doing here, he thought to himself. "In another life my name might be Mike, but tonight I am Stephen. If you must know, you do bear a striking resemblance to a woman I know named Annie, a beautiful woman for whom I care very deeply. I was going to tell her about my interest in this alternative lifestyle just as soon as I had tried it out. This really is my first time. I intend to speak with her as soon as I get home, but tonight, I am interested in discovering a beautiful creature named Angelique. If you are no longer interested in my company, then you are free, as we agreed, to leave with my apologies for not being what you expected."

Annie was clearly having difficulty with her surprise encounter with "Stephen." She considered leaving, but remained seated. What would her leaving accomplish? She had taken a giant step even coming here in the first place. Choosing to leave would mean giving up all the psychological ground she had gained. She knew she was safe. The potential for real danger that this clandestine meeting had held was now completely gone. Mike, her boyfriend, sat three feet from her and continued to look directly at her. He seemed so confident. For a moment she imagined herself silently submitting to him, tied, naked, and helpless. What would he do to her?

She spoke. "I'm sorry, Stephen," she said quietly, looking down at the table as she imagined a submissive would do. She could feel his power radiating across the small table. "You too bear a strong resemblance to someone I love. Please forgive me my mistake. I am very pleased to meet you. Would you please order me a drink?" Very well, she thought to herself. Stephen it would be.

They sat together for a while as Stephen and Angelique, both careful not to make any allusions to their real selves. The agreement to be Stephen and Angelique was unspoken. Both knew what was at stake. They had come here independently, but for the same reason. Breaking the mood, which was already filled with sexual tension so intense you could not help but be aware of it, just made no sense. Stephen paid the check and extended his hand to Angelique as he slowly rose from the table. Silently they left the restaurant and proceeded to the hotel elevator. The bell rang and the door opened slowly. Stephen stepped aside and allowed Angelique to enter. It was a mistake he thought to himself. The Master enters first; the Slave always follows. He was more of less "playing it by ear" but he was learning.

They entered the hotel room together. Stephen turned and spoke to Angelique. "Angelique, before we begin we need to set some ground rules. Each of us is here of our own free will. Each of us is free to leave at any time and return to our other life." He produced a black leather collar and gave it to the beautiful woman standing before him. "This collar is one of many devices we have at our disposal tonight but this one is special because it has great symbolic significance. The collar symbolizes your submission to my will. While it is off we are equals, like we are right now. If you decide to put it on, from the moment you do until you take it off you are mine to do with as I please, my slave. I will no longer refer to you as Angelique, but will call you whatever I choose; I will do whatever I choose. We are both new to this, although I suspect that you've done some homework as I have. You can have a safe word. When you say it we stop, immediately. I will remove any and all vestiges of our new relationship; you will remove the collar; and we will go our separate ways. We will not meet again." He stroked her hair, lightly touching her cheek as he extended the ringed collar offering her the admission ticket to both of their fantasies.

Angelique took the collar from Stephen and bent forward, tossing her long golden hair forward. She reached up and secured the collar snugly around her neck and then twisted it around until the clasp was in the back and the steel O- ring was in the front. Slowly she raised her head until her eyes were level with Stephen's chin. He was right. She had done her homework and knew that submissives did not make direct eye contact unless instructed to do so. "Very good, slave," Stephen said.

"Stand up straight and throw your shoulders back," Stephen commanded. Angelique did as she was told and thrust her chest forward as she pushed her shoulders back. Stephen stared at this beautiful, obedient creature and slowly began to circle around his prize. Although in another incarnation he had seen the woman standing before him thousands of times he was seeing her tonight, seeing Angelique tonight, for the first time and he was determined to discover every part of her, no matter how long it took.

Angelique felt Stephen's eyes penetrate to her core. She had dressed as he had requested, something tight fitting, sophisticated and sexy, but not trashy. She had on a white linen blouse with a push-up bra underneath. Her bosom was already ample, but the push-up in combination with her rigid posture had thrust it forward so that the upper part of her chest pressed hard against the inside of the blouse, so hard that the twin outlines of her bulging, overflowing flesh stretched the fabric taut. Her nipples, hardening, poked out from within. Below the tucked-in blouse she wore a simple black skirt which descended to mid-thigh level. Like the blouse it was form-fitting and as he moved behind her Stephen paused to admire the magnificent heart shape in front of him. The skirt had a slit which revealed Angelique's outer upper thigh, pale through white stockings. He allowed his eyes to linger and then descend down her shapely upper leg to her calves, whose muscles stood out, accentuated by the angle created by the black three inch heels she wore. Sexy, but not trashy was the request and she had nailed it perfectly. 

"Don't move," he commanded as he walked to the closet and opened the folding wooden door revealing a number of leather restraints and a couple of outfits which were hung pre-positioned neatly along the near-empty rack. He selected a simple elasticized blindfold, four leather cuffs and a three foot metal spreader bar and then returned to Angelique who had not moved. From behind he reached over her head and placed the blindfold in place, covering her eyes. He noticed that it constricted her hair and so he pulled the elastic from behind and with his free hand scooped her soft golden tresses up and over the elastic before making a final adjustment to make sure it stayed in place. It did.

"Move your legs apart, far apart," he commanded, again using the same deadpan controlling voice. He bent over to attach a cuff to each ankle and then pushed her legs slightly farther apart before coupling each ankle cuff to the spreader bar. Angelique complied and steadied herself in the heels. "Now put your hands behind your back, slave. In a minute her hands were secured behind her back, again in leather cuffs. She was completely helpless, blind and unable to move lest she tumble to the ground. Stephen returned to the closet and took out a camera. He began to take pictures of the bound blindfolded blonde beauty. Each snap of the camera was clearly audible to Angelique who knew exactly what was happening. Tonight would be thoroughly documented.

Stephen stood quietly and then, without any warning undid the top button of Angelique's blouse and then the second and a third as well. The fabric stretched to both sides revealing massive cleavage secured only by a single brassiere catch in the front straining under pressure from within. The bra itself was white and as he reached to move the blouse further to the side he touched the naked flesh of her breasts. Angelique shuddered and drew in a deep breath. When the fourth button was undone her blouse parted to reveal the entire bra and the mounds of beautiful pale flesh it supported. The lacy half-brassiere had holes through which her nipples protruded naked, full and pointing due north. He reached out and softly touched her aureoles, running a finger around the bumpy surface before mildly pinching each nipple. "Oh," Angelique said as she bent slightly at the knees. Instantly Stephen increased the pinching pressure to painful.

"I told you to stand up straight," he barked and Angelique did so immediately. 

"I apologize, Master," Angelique said to empty space. "It feels so good when you touch me." Stephen responded by reaching up her skirt with his left hand, grabbing her inner left thigh, but not squeezing too tightly.

"Tell me about your pussy, Slave. Is it wet?" Stephen asked. 

"Yes, Master," Angelique replied. "My pussy is very wet for you. You can reach up and see for yourself. I've been wet for your touch since we shared the drink downstairs. I had no idea that submitting to you would be so exciting. I want you to touch me, please." 

Stephen reached up to feel her pussy and found crotchless panties to match her bra. She was sopping wet and his finger penetrated her easily. She wiggled and thrust herself down onto his finger, easily burying it to its base. A breathless "Master" was all she could say. Stephen continued to probe and spread her juices around. Slowly he ran a second and third finger, one at a time into Angelique's moist pussy, each time with the same moaning result. Once his fingers were thoroughly coated with her moisture he massaged her pussy again and then moved them directly over her "taint" seeking the tight pucker of her anus. He coated the edges of the sphincter with fluid and then returned for a second and then a third application, bringing each to her forbidden entrance.

Angelique tightened he buttocks instinctively, but Stephen simply pressed on. "Loosen up, slave or I will punish you," he said with his deepest and most foreboding command voice. "Remember, you are mine to do with as I please. This body is no longer yours. It's mine. Say it!"

Angelique was at the crossroads and she knew it. Stephen was toying with her, which she had expected, wanted all along. Up until this moment she had been exploring totally new country, but it was safe and the edge of the envelope was nowhere in sight. Although she had never been tied like this, her husband had fingered her pussy many times, but neither he nor she had crossed that line. It was a kind of unspoken agreement between the two of them. The trouble was that tonight she had already made another agreement with Stephen. She had willingly agreed to give herself to him without reservation and now he was demanding that she not only live up to that agreement, but that she re-confirm. Stephen withdrew his hand and brought it down hard across her ass with a slap. "Speak, slave," he demanded. "Are we done?"

Angelique could not help flinch from the unexpected sting of the slap across her ass. "No., Master," she said. "I do not wish to stop, unless you do. My body is yours to do with as you please. It's just that all of this is so new to me and no one has ever touched me there or entered me in that way. I'm a little afraid."

"So what you are saying is that you do not trust me. Is that it, slave?" He slapped her again, harder this time. "Speak." 

Angelique replied with just a hint of a sob forming in her voice. Her eyes welled up with moisture, but any tears were hidden by her mask. "I trust you to take me places I have never been, Master. I want you to use me for your pleasure, for each of our pleasures. It pleases me to serve you in any way you desire. I ask your forgiveness for my inexperience." 

Stephen raised his hand but this time he brought it down gently and rubbed the very same area he had just slapped. His tenderness was noticeable to both of them. "You are entirely safe with me," he said with a gentility she had not expected. "I propose we take a break before we continue." With that he reached for the camera and took photos from multiple angles. Then, setting the camera aside he reached over and removed Angelique's blindfold and lifted her eyes to meet his. He immediately saw the telltale signs of Angelique's deep emotion. He leaned forward to kiss away the tears and then took a few more pictures of the helpless woman. Finally, he freed her legs from the spreader bar so that she could regain her footing and detached her handcuffs, bringing her arms around to the front. He had not reckoned on the effect her tears would have on him. She was not the only one who was new to this type of sexual play. He assessed the evening so far and was pleased. If nothing else, he had discovered a secret side to his wife, one he never imagined existed beneath her normally calm and professional exterior. He knew that the both of them had already moved into new and exciting sexual terra incognita.

Stephen instructed Angelique to pour him a drink from the bottle of Scotch he had brought and she did, neat the way she knew he preferred his whiskey. She handed it to him, eyes down, like she knew she should. "Strip for me," he said. "Take off the rest of your outfit, slowly. Then go to the closet and choose one of the outfits off the rack; get the one you think I'll like; and put it on. Break time is over, slave."

Stephen watched while Angelique slowly, tantalizingly removed the rest of her clothing, pausing to fold each item carefully. She stepped gently out of her white linen blouse which she had let slip to the floor. Then she removed the tight black skirt by reaching around and unzipping, wiggling her hips and sliding it to the floor as well. She hooked her fingers on either side of her panties and pulled them down over the garter and stepped out of the wet lace. As she reached to unhook her stockings from her matching white lace garter belt he stopped her. "No," he said. "Leave the rest on. Just take off the bra. Come over here. Come closer. I want to see those tits up close when you set them free." Angelique did as she was told and, wiggling her hips like a streetwalker, strode to within a foot of her master who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Before reaching up and undoing the latch she leaned even closer to his face, stopping only inches from his nose. He could see her manipulate the clasp and then, release her tits which only dropped slightly as they were freed. She stayed in place for a few moments and then stood up, twirled and went to the closet to survey the outfits on the rack. 

She chose a simple white corset and then went back into the room and put it on. Angelique was thin at the waist. Years of careful attention to her figure at both the gym and the dinner table had left her with a body that a woman ten years her junior would envy. Even so, the corset, which was essentially a bustier without a top, fit very snugly, cinching her waist into the wispiest of wasp waists. The top of the corset fit under each fleshy breast, framing perfectly from beneath. Stephen had to admit to himself that she had never looked more beautiful, but he had seen her nearly naked body in lingerie before and now he had seen her bound hand and foot, disheveled, and wet with desire. It was time to truly test her submission.




First Timers



"Slave," he commanded, "get up and kneel on the bed, facing me. Pull your ankles together and put your hands at your side." Angelique complied. Stephen reached over and attached the cuff on her right wrist to the cuff on her right ankle. Moments later he did the same for her left side. Her back arched slightly which caused her full breasts to protrude even more than they had when she was standing. Her breasts were large, full and perfect. Stephen took a moment to admire his handiwork and then took another series of pictures. He laid the camera down and went back to the closet to retrieve some more "accessories." He returned and placed them on the bed next to Angelique who remained silent with her head down. Stephen reached out and pinched her left nipple. Instantly it swelled up to attention. Immediately he took a bulb nipple pump from the bed where he had placed it and then leaned over and took her nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. Finally he pursed his lips together around the cylindrical tip of the pink bud, drew his head back and "pop" out it came. Immediately he raised the nipple bulb to his mouth, licked the circular tip and squeezed the bulb. Then he placed the stubby device, just barely able to fit, over the erect pink nub and released the bulb. Angelique's beautiful and now hyper-sensitive nipple was sucked up into the tube. Immediately Stephen squeezed a black rubber O-ring down the outside of the glass nozzle and onto Angelique's nipple. 

Angelique winced in pain, but did not speak. For his part, Stephen applied the same process to the other nipple with the same result, including his captive's reaction. Stephen then grabbed both nipples and squeezed hard enough to make his beautiful captive cry out in pain and try to pull back. Stephen released and immediately reached down between her legs to feel her pussy, which was still sopping wet. Angelique went from wincing in pain to swooning and moaning with pleasure. Several cycles of pain followed by pleasure had Angelique's confused body panting and gasping for air, almost in spasm. She wanted Stephen to make love to her. She needed release but still did not speak. Instead, Stephen spoke.

"Is there something you want, slave," he asked, "something you want to say to your master perhaps? Look at me when I speak to you!" Angelique raised her eyes to meet her tormenter who, even as he spoke, continued to stroke her pussy and work his fingers in and out of her wet snatch. Angelique's eyes spoke volumes, but Stephen demanded that she put her feelings into words. "Tell me what you want, slave." 

"I... I...," she stammered, "I want only to please my master. Are you pleased with your slave?" 

"No, slave, I am not pleased. I want you to tell me what it is that you want and I don't want to have to repeat myself," Stephen said. To emphasize he reached down onto the bed and picked up a simple bamboo switch and struck her across the top of her breast. Startled, Angelique shrieked. Immediately, Stephen's hand, the one he had been using to finger her, went to her mouth, covering her lips with her own juice. He leaned in and spoke softly into her ear. "We both forget where we are. There can be no more outbursts like that, slave, do you understand? Nod your head if you understand. Angelique nodded and Stephen said "Now, lick my fingers, slave. There's not another taste like it in the world." Angelique complied. It was the first time she had ever tasted herself and the taste was not unpleasant. "Do you wish to use your safe word, slave?" Stephen asked.

"No, Master," she replied, "it won't happen again. It's just that everything is so new. And, "she added "I do want something. I want you to fuck me. Please, Master, I need to cum. I want to feel your cock inside me, inside your slave. I want to cum with your cock inside me." 

"You will, slave, you will feel my cock inside you, when I'm ready. As for your satisfaction, you will not cum until I decide you have earned it and it pleases me to let you. If you do you will be punished severely," Stephen said sternly. He looked down at her naked chest where his handiwork with the bamboo switch was evident as a thin red welt raised itself across her fleshy tit. He leaned over and kissed it tenderly allowing his lips to drift to each of her nipples which he teased with the tip of his tongue before biting each one with just enough pressure to announce his intention to continue his use of her body in any way he pleased. As he lifted his face away he reached out and pushed the naked woman back onto the bed. She fell over to one side, not used to maintaining her balance in her trussed-up condition. Stephen pulled her into the position he wanted, face down and then said, "Spread your legs and stick your ass up in the air." After Angelique tried to comply with her master's wishes with limited success Stephen grabbed her legs by the knees and yanked them apart. "I said stick your ass up and spread. "

Once Angelique was properly positioned, Stephen took the opportunity to spank her ass several times with each hand. Angelique winced, but remained silent. Stephen leaned over and grabbed each of her ass cheeks, spread them apart and carefully extended his tongue until the tip just touched her asshole. Angelique jumped, but Stephen's iron grip held her in position. Again and again his tongue darted out, occasionally pausing as he licked her asshole and deposited spittle around her puckered hole. Then, reaching between her legs he coated his middle finger with her mucous and pushed it slowly into her rectum. Angelique tensed but did not protest as he buried his finger to the knuckle, pulled it out and re-inserted it to its full length. Angelique had quickly figured out that "resistance was futile" and that the best way to deal with this invasion of her anus was to relax and accept Stephen's intrusion. It was a totally new sensation and she had come to this hotel this evening looking for new sensations.

Once he was satisfied that Angelique could handle the intrusion Stephen withdrew his finger and went to the closet. He returned holding lubricant and a butt plug shaped like a Hershey's Kiss and over two inches in diameter at its widest part. He positioned the pointed end at the opening of Angelique's and squeezed a large glop of lube at the intersection of the point and its intended target. "Slave, your body is mine," he said as he began to insert the plug into Angelique's puckered anus. "You might as well know now that before the night is over I intend to fuck you in the ass. The only way that isn't going to happen is if you decide to use your safe word, but keep in mind that if you do, you will stop being my slave and I will stop being your master immediately and forever. There are lots of other potential masters out there and lots of slaves as well. You must decide whether or not you want me to be your master. If you do, say so now because in a moment you are going to experience something very new. It will probably hurt, especially at first, but then you will get used to it. Your ass is so beautiful. I want to fuck it and shoot it full of cum and that's what I'm going to do. You are my slave and your ass is mine as well. Do you understand, slave?

Angelique could feel the plug being pushed slowly, but steadily into her ass. Stephen was right. It did hurt, but mostly she felt pressure as her anus was spread farther and farther apart. She held her breath, except for a low moan as she continued to accept the pointy intruder. God, it felt huge! She wanted him to stop, but she knew that if she used the safe word, it would all be over and, God help her, she wanted to be his slave. The excitement of being so helpless and so harshly used by him was more addictive than she had ever imagined. She had known from the moment that she first sat down at her computer that eventually she would experience pain and now she was. She had also experienced excitement and pleasure, more than she had ever felt before. She enjoyed her degradation and loss of control. Now she stood to lose everything she had found and for what... just to avoid this pain, this trivial pain? "Yes, Master, I understand," she said softly. "I want you and only you to have me, to use me any way you decide. I won't complain."

"Good, slave," he replied. Suddenly, Angelique shuddered and the plug was sucked in as her sphincter passed the widest part of the plug and cinched up around the thin part of the plug which was designed to keep it inside her ass.

"Oh God, "she moaned. "it's so big. I'm full, but it doesn't hurt anymore. I just feel like I'm going to burst."

Stephen did not reply but began to remove his pants and underwear. He was stiff as a board as he gently stroked himself. He grabbed Angelique and once again she was on her side, and then on her back, staring up at his eyes which were surveying her supine, shackled and incredibly beautiful body. Her tits, her perfect, natural tits were slung to either side of her breastbone, only marginally restrained by her corset. Her nipples were taut and pointed, the rubber rings squeezing them at the base. He reached down and jammed his finger into her pussy. With his other hand he guided his penis to within an inch of her lips. "Open your mouth, slave; open it wide," Stephen commanded. Angelique complied. It had happened. Her fantasy had become real. She was helpless. She had a massive butt plug in her ass, filling her completely. Her Master's finger was rubbing her clit, sending wave after wave of glorious sensation to her pleasure centers. Now she was about to suck off her captor. Oh how she wanted to please him!

Stephen pushed his cock into Angelique's wide open mouth. "Suck, slave- and no teeth." In moments he was pulling himself out and then pushing his cock back in, slowly, rhythmically, savoring the feeling of oral sex with this big-titted beautiful woman. His fantasy had been fulfilled and the best part was yet to come. He had never fucked any woman in the ass and even now, while he was being sucked her ass was being stretched out to accommodate him. He fingered her some more and the pulled his finger out of her pussy. Then, he re-inserted it with two more of its brothers. It was so tight. Everything was tight. He reached down and pulled the plug out of her ass. At the same time he pulled his penis from Angelique's mouth. The two "pops" were audible and nearly simultaneous. Immediately he shifted between her legs and inserted his cock into her ass, slowly at first, but when she neither protested nor pulled back he pushed harder until he was in up to his balls. 

"Oh my God," she exclaimed. "Fuck me, Master! Please fuck me. Oh, this is glorious. I love the feel of you in my ass. I love pleasing you. Are you pleased with your slave?"

Stephen responded by reaching down and grabbing her nipples and pulling her breasts upward, but did not break stride, pumping her ass as deeply as he pleased. He squeezed harder and Angelique begged him to stop, pleaded with her master for mercy but only because she knew that it was what he wanted to hear. She so wanted to please him just as he was pleasing her by using her body in ways she had only imagined. 

Stephen could feel his climax coming. "Now, slave, now you may cum. Come for me!" he shouted. He doubled the speed of his thrusts and halved the stroke. He was coaxing his cum to the front of his dick and bracing for what he knew would be a massive orgasm. He strained to hold back and pressurize his load when, wham, it arrived in a rush. Stephen convulsed and unloaded a hot blast of cum into Angelique's ass, relaxed for a moment and then loosed another blast and in quick succession three more as he buried his cock to his balls in her jizz-filled ass. He released her nipples as he teetered, all weak in the knees.

Angelique began matching Stephen's pace as he pumped. It was so tight. She could feel how tightly her ass was squeezing his cock; the lubrication doing its job perfectly. Then she felt him slowly begin to increase his pace. She knew what it meant. Stephen was about to cum. Oh how she wanted her own release but her master, and Stephen was truly her master, had forbidden it. She fought her own needs and concentrated on pleasing this wonderful man who had transformed her secret fantasy life into this glorious reality. She was aware of the pain, just the right amount of perfect pain as he pinched her nipples harder and harder. Then she heard her master telling her to cum, demanding that she come for him. Her body began to convulse as her monstrous orgasm ran direct from her midsection to her head and her feet. She felt Stephen spasm as he shot load after load into her ass. It was both warm and plentiful.

Stephen withdrew his spent cock and her sphincter closed tight but soon the cum he had just expelled began to ooze through the tiny hole that hadn't quite sealed shut. Angelique just lay there in the afterglow. For his part, Stephen, still weak from orgasm, watched riveted as the sticky white fluid drooled out of her ass and slipped down her ass cheeks onto the bed. He slipped up the bed until once again his cock was directly in front of her face. "Lick it, slave," he growled. "Clean off my cock."

Angelique hesitated but then opened her mouth and said "As you wish." As she took the half-length penis back into her mouth and began the slow, loving process of cleaning her master's cock with her mouth and tongue.

"Swallow it," Stephen commanded. Angelique complied. Then, he leaned over and unhooked her cuffs, first he unhooked the attachment which held her wrists to her ankles and then he removed both pairs of cuffs entirely. Now only the nipple rings and the collar, the all-important collar, remained as signs of her vow of submission. Angelique rose to her knees and then cupped her heavy tits and offered her nipples one at a time to her lover. Stephen took each nipple into his mouth, closed his teeth just behind the rings and slowly worked the O-rings off her nipples. Angelique never even noticed the pain as he pulled, then bit, then worked his tongue around to increase the lubrication and then repeated the process until the ring popped off and he spat it onto the bed. 

Now, only the collar remained. His eyes met hers as he reached up and began to disconnect the collar. Wordlessly, Angelique reached up and seized his arm before he could finish the job. Then she said, "What are you doing, Master? I haven't said the safe word yet."