0 comments/ 23789 views/ 0 favorites Heat By: mystique_angel You lay the girl's clothes into a suitcase and close the lid. For she has come to You where her "real" persona was left at the door, along with her freedom of the sophisticated world. You close the lid, knowing full well that she has now entered, Master's Domain, His Dominance will reign. Her submissive's rose bud will be allowed to open, under His supervision, His direction and His control. You had directed her to remove her clothing, and then sent her into the bathroom for her to prepare herself for Master. In the bathroom you had laid a clean towel and bathmat. You could hear the shower running, and saw through the steamy mist the outline of her body. This was pleasing to You, for it made You proud, that You had in Your possession the innocence of this rose. You walk to the doorway of the bathroom, You call to her. She turns, semi surprised, to see You standing there, You tell her to rinse off, and stand before You … and You see the glistening body … prepared for You … You take the towel, dry her off. She stands naked, but she stands not alone, she stands before You. You give her a robe to keep her warm, but You find her form, appealing to Your eye. The girl wears Your robe, rather nervous, anxious and yet committed. Needing and wanting and lustful, of Master in His entirety, she thought, not just Master's cock. Although at the thought of Master's cock, brings a cascade of womanhood dew, without too much encouragement seeping, trickling floor bound. Her desire to please Master in all areas, in which He will allow her, which in turn, brings very much delight, and purpose to this girl's existence. You take her to the sitting room, and have her kneel at Your feet, as she does so, You place the collar around Your neck, for the collar on this occasion represents, a play collar she is Your bitch in heat, she is Your slut, and Your treasure. As You fasten it, You notice that she flinches. For to her, she now realizes that she is submissive/slave to You. For the duration of this time together, she will be used for Your enjoyment. But she also appreciates that Your enjoyment will bring fulfillment and satisfaction also to her. For she is to You, Your slut, Your bitch in heat and Your treasure. You tell her that now, she is owned by You, to treasure, love, use and direct as You see fit. That Master's word is final. That under Your care, the rosebud will open, for Master's enjoyment, and Master's enjoyment alone. You know that this is foreign territory for her. You know in many respects that she is as virginal as snow, and yet, You also know that it is what she needs and what she wants. You attach Your leash to Your collar, and tug on the leash, so that she knows who is in control. She looks up at You, with big blue eyes, and she smiles to herself, knowing that for Master to attach His collar and His leash, her limitations and inhabitation will be challenged, and new found freedoms will be explored. She considers this Master to be her Gardener of her rose. But it is no longer her rose, it is Master's rose and every part of her body, belongs to Master. There is a twinkle of comfort that radiates from her smile, and through her eyes. For the eyes are the mirror of O/one's soul. Master takes her robe, and tells her to stay. He wants to inspect His treasure. You order her to kneel and to open those legs wide for Master so that He can see His beauty. Walking around her … feeling her … telling her … this is My cunt … this is My pussy … this is My bitch 'n heat … this is My slut … and it is Mine, all Mine! You tug on the leash … because her legs started to creep back together, and as You tugged, You see the glistening dew between her legs, for You realized that she responded to You, claiming her as Yours. First You put one finger into Your cunt that knelt before You and Your finger was saturated, You stuck a second finger and she was nearly ready for Your use. You felt Your cock get hard, and Your balls begin to tingle. You pulled down on the leash … and told her to raise that ass of Yours into the air, and have her head touch the floor … and there You inspected her butt … and You smiled. You invited her onto Your lap … for You were pleased. You held her close, and she held You back, and there You stayed for a while. Her breasts were erect, You fondled them, You twisted and sucked and pulled. You felt Your cock harden. Use that bitch in heat of Mine was the thought. You ordered her to kneel at Your crutch … to take Master's cock into her mouth … to suck … to suck hard and fast. Within a very short of time … You withdrew Your cock. You handed her a vibrator … and ordered her to fuck her pussy for Your pleasure. You studied her face, her actions her motions. You were very pleased that she did what was asked. You ordered her to get on all fours, for she was Your bitch … You took her toy and You placed it into her pussy and told her NOT to touch. You knelt down behind her and gently pressed Your cock into her butt. You were going to fuck her whether she wanted or not. Then You pulled out the vibrator from her pussy, and placed it in her butt and You had her ride Your hard cock … You humped Your cock into Your pussy and You shot Your full load of cum … when Your cock was spent, You slowly released Your cock, and presented it to Your slut to lick the combined juices of the volcano that had bought You pleasure. She licked the joint juices from Master's cock, and slowly, but surely, wiped Him dry, a pleasing look in Your eyes and this was reflected back, of satisfaction in Your slut's eyes. You order her to go to the toilet and to kneel, at the toilet bowl. You need to release. She flinched at the thought, but she also knew, that this was one activity that she would enjoy, for Master required her to enjoy it, to service Him in this way. Master's cock peed into the toilet bowl, and then He ordered her to take His cock and to clean it, first with Her tounge, and then with her mouth. A horrid thought for the girl at first, but then, as the action was complete, she felt a radiance within, for He needed her, and she was happy to be of service to Him in that way. There was more wetness between her legs … and Master could see, His slut's response. You told her place her to place on her silks, for Master had finished using His slut's body, but wanted reasonable access, as He saw fit. Her silks are very soft against her body, and she was only too happy to have Master take her, when He needed to take her, for His enjoyment and T/their mutual pleasure. For it is in giving that W/we receive. It is through her submission to her Master, that fulfills her being. Master when all set and done, is the Gardner of His rose, whatever form, that may or may not take. He has given His lil one His attention, and she desires nothing more, than to be worthy of His time, and His care, maybe one day His love, as they journey that pathway together. For however long that may be, for however far, she is His and He treasures the gift. angel in submission to Master, on her knees, where she belongs, to serve, to be used, to be loved, to be treasured and watered. To encapsulate Master with her love, her care, and her attention, can only in time bring deeper understandings of one's purpose in this place that W/we call life. Heat It's just so damn hot today, and the a/c's broke. I took my evening run, and it's been hot and humid all day. After showering, I didn't even bother with clothes and air dried. Now I'm laying in bed, listening to the pink noise off the street outside, with a fine layer of sweat on me, the heat throbbing in my neck, and I begin to wipe the sweat from my brow, and the back of my hand follows down my neck. Before I know it, my hands have wandered lower following the curve of my neck, tracing my nipples, which harden out of reflex, and giving the left one a slight pinch, causing me to turn my head towards the source of pleasure. I caress my firm pecs, my fingers make their way down the soft line that separates my abs, and my thumb lightly circles my navel. Then it's down the upper thighs that frame my slowly warming, growing manhood. But not to touch. Not this soon. Instead, it's down the front of those smooth, toned thighs I've been spending so much time working on. I lift one up to admire the shape before I part them both, lewdly, my legs forming a diamond by bringing the soles of my feet together. And then the fingers discover that oh-so-sensitive inner thigh. By lightly stroking the inside of the thighs with just the tips of my fingers, just like a guitar, I find my thickening cock responding, craning, the dark plum of the head lolling, like a snake to a snake charmer, the clear venom of desire already wetly beading at the very top. And I continue to play, stroking my thighs, slowly running my hands over my chest and belly, my face, but never touching the very center of my being, to the rhythm of increasingly shallow breaths and sibilant moans. I am both the instrument of my desire and my private audience. My fingers now curl around my hot, soft, satiny sac and my erection lurches in relief, as if to say, finally. But it still is not time yet. I tug and roll each ball between thumb and index finger, grinding my thumb against the turgid base as I pull my ball sac gently down, and the head, which now curves into my belly button, leaves a clear, wet trail on my abs as I do so. I take a finger, wipe a bead of this lust-stuff from the tip of my cock and lick it. It's so good. So sweet. So wet and so close now. But I can't play this last movement alone. I need accompaniment. I get up and reach for some help, seven inches long, curving gently towards the end, and from a slim, dark bottle by my bed, I lubricate it with unctuous oil, the same oil I use to anoint the place I'm going to need this help. And then I kneel in front of the mirrored closet doors by my bed, admiring my fit, toned body as I positioning my dildo right at my smooth opening, and slowly, I open myself to it's girth, easing it in, feeling it slowly filling me up, until the tip nudges that place where I can begin the denouement. In response, my dick throbs and jerks with each inch in me, bouncing off my abs. I lick my lips for the young sexy thing in the mirror looking back at me. Still on my knees, with one hand I begin to fuck the dildo in and out of me, each time, rubbing up against that golden place in my ass, and my throbbing cock, twitching, swells with each stroke against my prostate, becoming even harder, as the darkening head begins to weep glistening, thick tears which roll down the shaft, in time with my boy-hole tightening around the slick, wet dildo. I set myself against the floor so that I'm still kneeling but riding my toy, so deep inside me, leaving my other hand free to caress my pecs. With half-closed eyes, lost in desire, I watch my hands make love to myself in the mirror as I thrust my hardness into the air and ride that cock. I stroke my abs. My balls. My thighs. But I don't go near the shaft of my twitching, throbbing cock. And now, at last, I think it's time. Blood singing in my head, head rolling with ecstasy, I can barely keep my eyes focused on myself as I wrap my left hand roughly around the head, spreading my own boy-juices down the shaft as I do so, and a delicious glory rising up from my asshole, my heavy balls, up into my chest and into my head, and it comes out of my mouth with a loud groan. This silicone cock fills me up so well, and the wet, wicked noises coming from my ass and slick cock are so loud now, that I can almost not hear the ringing in my head, or my own gasps and rising groans, or feel my spasming, tremoring, sweat-wet body reacting to all this pleasure. And now it's here, the climax, my hole tightens hard against the thick dick hitting my g-spot with every stroke, both my hands tighten around my hard, hot, creamy dick, I throw my head back one last time, eyes shut tightly, mouth caught open in a silent scream, my orgasm takes me, so powerful, I'm showering myself with my own cum, a few hot spurts landing by the corner of my mouth which I eagerly lick away. Sometimes, there's just nothing quite like time spent playing with yourself. Heat Thank you to A.S. for helping me edit this story. *** I am a female Disk Jockey, a DJ, who has a great job playing some of the best rock music on the planet with my co-host Christina; we work the evening show from nine to midnight every weeknight. Not to sound full of myself, but we have one of the best shows in that time slot in the local area. The studio where we work is not that big. We're only a small radio station compared to most others, but it's comfortable and I enjoy the work. The only thing I can gripe about is my boss. Jason takes great pleasure in screwing his people over. The bastard would walk into the studio in the middle of our show and tell us to get out because we were fucking up his airwaves. He should talk! All Jason did during his show was play long-ass songs and try to get inside the panties of the so-called female "DJ's" that he hired on a nearly daily basis! On other occasions, he would just randomly appear during our show and stare at us. That bugged the hell out of me. I would often get into arguments with him over these issues and they always ended up with him threatening my job and me walking out of the office cursing his demise. The only reason we put up with this crap is because we are good at what we do. More listeners tuned into our show every week than any other. Jason was well aware of this. He knew that we made better hosts than he did on any given day, which is why he tolerated my frequent outbursts. Then, a few days ago, Jason crossed the line. Without so much as a warning he moved us from the evening shift to the morning shift because the newest girl he was anxious to nail said that worked better for her. As you can imagine, we didn't take this well. Christina made the mistake of trying to reason with the jerk and get our old time slot back, but that only ended in screaming and crying on Christina's part. She came over to my apartment afterwards with tears streaming down her face saying she was going to quit. Seeing her so upset got me really pissed off at the prick. So, after I sent Christina home early the next morning, I made plans to ambush the son-of-a-bitch that night during his shift at the station. Jason liked the graveyard shift. It was the only time he got away with playing crap on the air while he screwed his whores in the corner without anyone being the wiser. The only problem is that I knew. I knew, and that night I was going to make him understand that he couldn't go around treating people like shit; and I would enjoy every minute of it. Boy was I wrong on that one. I dressed to intimidate, which wasn't so easy considering that my height was average and two inches shorter than Jason. I was wearing my tall, black lace-up boots, my tightest pair of dark jeans, and a black tank top with my duster jacket over it. It wasn't my intention to look hot, just serious. My straight, dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of my neck. I added just a touch of my favorite maroon lipstick to finish the look. I checked myself in the hall mirror before I left. My reflection appeared both serious and hot. "Tonight, he's going to listen to what I have to say," I told myself, then grabbed the keys and was out the door. Upon my arrival at the studio, I was surprised to see that he was alone. I silently guessed that the little whore wasn't good enough tonight, or maybe they started wising up and raised their standards a notch above him. I smiled at this last thought. A girl can dream. I already knew that he would be wearing a ragged, old shirt with some forgotten logo on the front, baggy jeans and street shoes. Those were the type of clothes he always wore during his shows. When he was trying to impress the ladies, he would put on a blazer over a tight fitting shirt and nice slacks. As I looked through the door, I couldn't see his face in the darkened studio, but I already knew he had piercing grey eyes, dirty blonde hair, medium sized lips and a chiseled jaw. I sometimes overheard women commenting on how handsome he was, but I didn't see it. Of course, that's probably due to the fact that I hated the bastard. Speaking of the devil, you should have seen the look on his face when I opened the door and walked in. "What the fu...Jane! What the hell you doing here?" He asked me in that gruff voice of his that often made me irritated. He was up and out of his chair in a flash, standing behind it for protection or something stupid like that. He probably thought I was a pissed off little fucker just looking to kick his ass, which wasn't too far from the truth. "I still work here don't I Jason? We need to talk." He took a gulp and stared at me. Perspiration immediately formed on his brow. The sweat beaded and rolled down the sides of his face. Either the outfit was working and he was intimidated, or he was genuinely scared. "Okay...so talk!" "First off, where's your little whore tonight?" "I told her to fuck off. Now talk!" He answered that a little too quickly, I thought. He looks nervous and a little scared. I laughed to myself and smiled a little before continuing. "What the hell did you do to Christina? She came crying to me at 4 a.m. yesterday, babbling about something you did. I want to know what it was." He seemed to relax a little then because he moved the chair out of the way and stood facing me. "Oh, so that little bitch of yours went crying to you? I knew she would. She's so weak." "Please tell me that you did not just call my co-host weak!" "I'll call her whatever I damn well please! She, like you, is just another little whore who works under me!" He was standing closer to me, invading my personal space. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked every bit like the pompous ass he was. It was infuriating. "Little whore? Do I look like one of your little whores to you?" He grinned while looking me up and down. I knew in that moment that I said the wrong fucking thing. "Right now? Yes, yes you do." If I wasn't pissed off before, I certainly was now. "You asshole!" I came at him with my hand raised, about ready to slap the shit out of him. Then he grabbed my arm, swung me around and slammed me up against the wall, pinning my wrists in his strong hands. He was on top of me, our faces were almost close enough to kiss. I could smell his aftershave and made a note of how good it smelled. That thought made me hate him even more. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Jane. I could just pick up the phone and call the cops on you for assault." "What are you going to tell them? That I almost bitch slapped you like the cocksucker you really are?" That pissed him off. Jason leaned back and slapped me across the face. It hurt like hell, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing how much. Instead I glared back him like I wanted to kill him. The anger and intense hatred I harbored for that sorry excuse for a human caused me to spit in his face. When he pulled back to strike me again, I used my free hand to punch him in the face. My hand hurt like a motherfucker, but he just increased his hold on my wrist. "You call that a hit? What's the problem, bitch? Can't handle a real man like me?" "Jason, stop fooling yourself. You're not a real man, just a pathetic excuse for one. That's why you have to fuck little whores every night." He captured my wrist in his hand, making sure I couldn't land another blow. Now both of my hands were pinned to the wall above my head. I tried using my legs to kick, but he just pressed his legs against mine and held them still. I was trapped with no way out. After I realized this, I stopped struggling and just looked him in the eye. "She didn't show up tonight, did she? That's why you're alone here. Your whore stood you up." I almost gave a little giggle at this, but the blank stare I got from him made me stop. I was in trouble. "What the fuck are you thinking of doing now, Jason?" He didn't answer. Instead he grasped both my wrists in his left hand and used his right to trace down my body. His touch made me burn. How dare this bastard touch me! He looked back to my face with that stupid grin of his, the one he always used when he knew something that we didn't Jason had better not be thinking of doing anything to me, I thought. He grabbed my chin and held it so that I couldn't turn away. Then his lips came crashing onto mine. The kiss was fierce, hard and possessive. I think I momentarily lost my mind because the next thing I knew was that my body was reacting to his touch. It was relaxing against his hold and arching into his body. My mouth opened, silently inviting his tongue inside. Jason immediately thrust his wet tendril deeply into my mouth, savoring every inch. I quickly snapped out of the spell I found myself under and started struggling against his advances, but the more I did the more he seemed to like having my body pinned against him. When he finally released my mouth I must have looked like a beaten woman. A women that wouldn't say "no" even if I wanted to. The way my body reacted to his touch during the kiss solidified this feeling in me. All I knew was that I had to get away before he laid another hand on me. Seeing my face must have done the trick because he stood back from me a while to look at my face. This was my chance. I had some self-defense training and kicked the bastard in the stomach. When he let my hands go, I bolted for the door and left him moaning on the floor. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me until I reached the car. After getting in and starting the engine, I subconsciously slipped the transmission into drive and made my way home. Somehow, I wound up back at my apartment holding my keys to open the door. What in the hell did I just do? I assaulted my boss! But he had me pinned to the wall and was about to do God knows what. It was self-defense, I reassured myself. "Hey, 3B, you alright?" "What? Oh, no I'm...I'm fine. Thanks for asking." I opened my door, walked in and locked it behind me. When I leaned back against it I mentally berated myself for how dumb I acted. "How could I have been so stupid? I'm a smart woman, what was I thinking letting my guard down like that? I took those self-defense classes so that I wouldn't wind up in that kind of situation. Why didn't I react until he backed away after that kiss?" My hand unconsciously moved to my mouth. The fingers came away with some maroon lipstick and few streaks of blood. I looked up in to the hall mirror and almost let out a gasp. My hair was disheveled, my lipstick smeared across my face and there was a bruise forming where the bastard slapped me across the face. No wonder my neighbor asked if I was alright, my lip was still bleeding from the beating I took. Shaking my head, I walked to the bathroom and grabbed a shower. Once I was dried off, I applied an ice pack to my face and carefully considered how and why I had let that asshole get the best of me. If I hadn't acted out of hatred, I wouldn't have gotten beaten up like I did. That was the least of my problems. What was I going to do now? What was Jason going to do now? How was I going to keep my job after this violent episode? Speaking of my job, I looked at the clock and realized that I had to work the shift alone. It was the morning show, the one right after Jason's. Shit, I'd have to face him again when I went in. I couldn't, not after what happened. I didn't know what to do, or what he might do if he saw me again. For all I knew, he had already called the cops on my ass for beating him up. I laughed at that last thought. Jason? Call the cops on me for beating him up? He would rather die! I laughed some more and relaxed. My face didn't hurt as much as it did, so I returned the ice pack to the freezer. I had nothing to fear and felt safe from the cops for the time being, but I wasn't insulated from my feelings or thoughts. Feelings? Where did that word come from? Did I actually have feelings for Jason? I laughed at this emotion too. True, the man did get me fired up, but that was just the kind of asshole he was. To even entertain ideas of any possible relationship beyond hatred was absurd, to say the least. Then why did you give him the opportunity to pin you against the wall? I decided to sleep on this question. I would have the answer in a few hours anyway, might as well leave it alone until I had to deal with it. In the meantime, I had some sleeping to do. *** My alarm went off a few hours later. It was time to go to work. Deciding it best to dress down after what Jason said about my outfit last night, I pulled out my old Rolling Stones t-shirt purchased at one of their concerts, a pair of well-worn jeans and my black jogging shoes. Since it was a day that I didn't care what I looked like, I just let my hair hang as it was; long and loose. I made it to the station with a few minutes to spare before I began my shift. With coffee in hand and a confident attitude, I was prepared to face the jerk. What I got was not at all what I was expecting. He was lying on the floor, where I left him a few hours ago, unmoving. I dropped my coffee and purse and raced to his side. After rolling him over onto his back, I laid my head against his chest to listen for a heartbeat. It was there and he was still alive. So, what was he doing on the floor? I turned my head to look at his face. His eyes were open, looking at me. Panic filled my head and froze me in place. He was grinning at me with a look of madness on his face. "Well, good morning, bitch. I see you've gotten all cleaned up for me." Hearing his mocking tone, I suddenly remembered that I could move and started to get up. My ascent was stopped when Jason held one of my hands to his chest like a trophy. "Let go of me, Jason." "To do what? Beat me half to death like you tried to do last night?" "Last night was different. I wasn't thinking clearly." "Oh? And you're thinking clearly now, is that it?" "Yes, now let me go," I almost pleaded. "You're afraid of me. I can see it in your eyes." "I'm not afraid of you...I'm...I'm afraid of me!" Why did I say that? Oh great, what is he going to do to me now? I looked at his face. He wasn't looking arrogant or proud; he was just gazing at me. When Jason released my hand I crawled across the floor to sit away from him. He sat up and just stared at me. What was he thinking about? He crawled over and sat close enough to touch me, but he didn't. "Why are you afraid of yourself?" He asked in a hushed tone, like he was telling me a secret. Did he just ask me a question that sounded sincere? "Do you really want to know?" I replied in the same hushed voice. "Yes." Well, here goes nothing, I thought. "I'm afraid of what I'll do when I'm alone with you." I almost breathed out the "you" in a sob. I had just lowered my guard completely. "You're afraid that you'll beat me up again, is that it?" He almost laughed, but stopped when he saw how serious my face looked. "No. I'm afraid that I'll give into my desire. That woman I was a few hours ago is gone now. It's just me this time, the real me." "I can see that," He said, lightly touching my arm. "Nice shirt." "I got it at one of their concerts." "Can I see it?" "Sure." I turned my back to him so that he could see the names of all the cities they toured that summer. He gathered my hair in his hand and moved it aside to see all of the locations and play dates. Having him that close to me set off all the alarms in my head. This was the guy who called my former co-host weak, and who also called me a whore. Maybe he was just pretending to be nice, hoping I'd expose my weakness that he could later flaunt. I started to face him when his hand stopped me. "I went to this one, in Phoenix." "That's where I got this shirt!" "That was a wild night." "Yeah, It was," I answered, although the details had always been a bit fuzzy. After lowering my hair I turned and faced him. I looked at Jason in a whole new light that made being this close to him very hard to ignore. I couldn't stop what happened next. All of the negative thoughts I experienced before were lost as I reached forward only to be stopped by his hard body leaning into mine. He captured my mouth with his. My hands slipped around his chest and up his strong back to tangle in his hair. This time, the kiss was passionate. His tongue was playful, but there was an underlying tension. It was a reminder that he could, at any time, revert from a potential lover back into the monster I had seen a few hours ago. That thought made me increase the pressure on our lips. I was desperate to feel that fierce power I felt before, when we were fighting and he was winning. A sudden realization occurred to me. I admired his raw energy and desired nothing less than to be completely dominated by it. My nipples instantly hardened and my pussy began tingling. Jason seemed to sense what I wanted. The next thing I knew, he was on top of me, pinning both of my wrists with his left hand and using his right to open the front of my jeans. Once loosened, his hand reached into my panties, like one of his many whores. I was really wet by this point and was relieved to feel his fingers exploring my dripping pussy. I breathlessly gasped and groaned as he moved his fingers in and out of my hot box. I was completely at his mercy. He had me helplessly pinned and I loved every minute of it. I felt his hand leave my cunt for a moment while he unfastened his jeans and pulled out his stiff prick. He released one of my hands and guided it down to seize his cock. I was surprised to feel a good-sized dick in my hand. My fingers stroked up and down while he still fingered my juicy pussy. Our lips and tongues found each other again, muffling our frantic moans of pleasure. My God, this was incredible, but I need more. "I need you inside me!" I pleaded when my desperation became too great to bear. He moved his mouth to my ear. "Who is the boss around here, bitch?" His tone was threatening, yet I found it to be both frightening and deliciously erotic. "You...you are," I nervously responded, uncertain how he would react. "Please, don't hurt me again." "Then shut up and don't give me any reason to," he told me. He now dominated me both physically and mentally. It was extremely arousing. I'd never felt so alive and energized, or so helpless and vulnerable. Jason removed his fingers from my drenched cunt. He pushed my shirt up, exposing my breasts and straining nipples. His fingers briefly squeezed on one and tweaked the swollen nub. My back arched, eagerly pressing my flesh against his hand, frantic for more. When he saw that I was getting really excited, the hand pulled away. "Oh, please," I cried out in misery. I could feel how damp my juices had made my panties and was desperately craving more. "Please, Jason, I'll do anything." "You'll be one of my regular station whores?" he asked, testing my resolve. I understood the enormity of his demand. Would I agree to fuck him on demand, whenever he had the urge? My mind reeled; there was no way I could ever agree to such degradation. Then I heard my own voice answer him. "Yes, yes I promise!" His free hand pushed my jeans and panties down and tugged my legs apart. Jason got on top of me and pressed his hard cock between the lips of my pussy. He hesitated at my opening. "Jason, fuck me please! I need you inside me now!" That was all it took before he buried his cock deep inside me. My moans of pleasure were caught in his mouth when he covered my lips with his. He was thrusting into me hard, with no thought to what it was doing to me. He fucked me like I was a whore, his whore. Heat All I could focus on was Jason's cock and how good it felt slamming into me. It fucked me over and over, increasing in speed and power each time. I screamed out his name and bit down on his shoulder. This made him yell and slam my arms down on the floor as he forced his dick in and out of my cunt. He was close, and so was I. Before we came he bit down on my shoulder, causing me to scream out in both pain and pleasure as an unbelievable climax washed over us. When I could breathe normally again, I found myself sitting up, being held tightly against Jason's chest with him still inside me. His head was resting on my left shoulder where he had bit me. No words can describe the feeling that I felt right then. I had done it. I had completely let my guard down, lost control of my body, and had the most amazing sexual experience of my life. "Un-fucking-believable!" Jason said when he regained control of his breathing. "I know. Incredible." My mind was still spinning when I felt him lift his head to face me and claim my mouth in a loving kiss. A girl can get used to this. The End Heat & Lust Authors note. It is 1769. Taking advantage of the decaying Mughal Empire, certain European trading companies have established themselves in India. They hire private armies to ensure their security in an increasingly lawless and chaotic land. * * * * * With one final thrust, Captain Simpson ejaculated his spunk into the greased anus of the Indian native boy. Having emptied his balls he pulled out his deflating cock from the now well lubricated rectum of the 18 year old. the lad flopped forward onto his hands and knees, panting. Simpson began to breathe easier as he wiped his prick with the torn loin cloth of the lad. "Hari Suri!" Simpson bellowed The lithe Indian Sepoy (Native Indian Soldier) appeared as if by magic into the crude native hut. Simpson flung the soiled loin-cloth at the lads sweat glistening buttocks, saying " You can have the bastard now' A great smile flashed across the brown face of Hari Suri as he saluted the Captain and stepped out of the Captains way, allowing Simpson to exit the hut. Turning to look over his shoulder he saw Hari Suri naked from. the waist down, kneel behind the boy, pull him into position and ram his cock into the lad's bottom. The boy yelped in pain as Hari Suri ruthlessly fucked his anus. 'Serves the bastard right ' Simpson thought Besides, the lad's anus had been rather easy to enter. Obviously, the lad was well used to getting sodomized. No doubt the lad would be passed around amongst the native soldiers before they left the farm. His anus well used and filled by their boiling seed. Simpson Inspected the pathetic articles looted from the huts of the farm. The rice and wheat would be worth something but hardly the effort of the raid. Still, the farmer had given shelter and food to bandits and that could not go unpunished. Pity the women had fled Although not adverse to a spot of sodomy. He had hoped to fuck a heavy breasted, big hipped Indian farm girl. Experience had taught him that Indian girls were superb rides. Hot and wet. The thought made his prick twitch in approval. All they had found sadly, was an old woman with sagging tits and a lad. The farmer had been shot as he fled. The women had obviously hidden in the jungle near by. Not worth the risk of searching for them. They may even have fled to the bandits secret camp. No doubt the bandits would have the pleasure of their cunts, mouths and anuses. A scream from a nearby field caught his attention. Some members of the patrol were standing in a circle laughing and joking watching some commotion at the centre. Walking over Simpson heard the soldiers exhorting someone to 'fuck the old bitch'. At his approach the soldiers stood quickly at attention. One of the men quickly jumped to his feet, his trousers at his feet making a mockery of his attempt to stand at attention. Although his prick was doing a fine job. Looking down to the ground he saw the old woman stripped naked and trying to hide her sagging tits and thick graying cunt bush with her hands. "What's this Arun Singh?" Simpson said turning to the half naked sepoy " You like the old cow?' He asked. Arun Singh smiled sheepishly. "Okay then Arun Singh fuck the bitch" Simpson said He moved away from the sepoys and only turned again when the screams of the woman and cheers of the sepoys indicated that Arun was indeed fucking the old woman. He watched as Arun's buttocks rose and fell in lustful abandon between two old wrinkled legs. He watched as Arun's place was taken by sergeant Lodhi; who made a great sport of slapping the woman's buttocks as he rammed her. Meanwhile, Hari Suri had emerged from the hut and motioned for a waiting sepoy to go inside. No doubt the lad was to put to use again. Some members of the patrol were standing at the door of the hut watching the goings on inside with a great deal of enjoyment. The old woman was now getting a good fuck doggy style by a thin sepoy, with catcalls and obscenities filling the air, That evening, Captain Simpson and his native patrol rode out of the farm yard, having torched the huts and sheds and fucked the lad and old woman till their balls were dry. The punishment raid would serve as a warning to others.