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To Sir With Lust Ch. 01

By: The_Odalisque



Author’s note: Several years ago while “playing” on a chat line that originated in Washington, D.C., I made the acquaintance of a dominant gentleman who, for lack of a better explanation, cast a spell on me. He was my first dominant. I found myself calling “the line” as we referred to it, with the sole intention of finding him, submitting to him, spinning fantasy after fantasy with him. One night after work (I did not have a home computer at the time) I found myself staying late at the office writing him the letter/fantasy that follows. After I finally worked up the courage to offer him my home phone number, we talked more frequently, but, as is so often the case, our acquaintance was short-lived and the time came when he called me no more. I never knew his name, but I will never forget his voice or the impact of his words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 2, 1998

Sir,

I write this letter wondering if you will ever read it. Surely it will never be shared with anyone but you, just as the sensations and the emotions which I have been privileged to experience at your hands will never be repeated with another. Even if it were possible, it would be but a pallid imitation of what I have already known with you. 

Your voice, rich, powerful, confident, with an erotic edge, continues to ring in my ears, and I tremble with remembered desire as I recall the manner in which you first allowed me to surrender myself to you--as if kneeling before you, face upturned, eyelids lowered, lips slightly parted, shoulders thrown back, breasts thrust forward, was the only logical place for me to be. 

How I have dreamed of being owned by a man such as you. Many men have tried to lay claim to me, but there was never anyone to whom I could truly submit. We both know that a master and a slave choose each other--we both realize the necessity of this mutual consent because we must both keep in mind that, even as I cry out at the pain which you so lovingly inflict upon me, I have chosen to be here, to accept your punishment, and to revel in the control which you so expertly wield. 

Sir, you were the first man who could control me with a word, a change in the tone of voice, or the slight lift of an eyebrow. All of the others were so crude--always barking orders, pushing, slapping. The lot of them behaving like little schoolboys who giggle over bathroom jokes. 

And then I met you. Sophisticated, worldly, refined; a man who appreciates what eloquence can be found in silence, a man who understands that authority, even when absolute, does not have to be displayed at every opportunity, a man who knows how to savor the moment, a man who knows the value of patience, a man who recognizes that eroticism is truly in the mind first and the body second. 

Even now, as I sit at my desk and type, my body responds to your commanding persona. My nipples have stiffened, my swollen pussy is literally awash with my juices and my clit is erect and throbbing. 

I am concerned about leaving the evidence of my aroused state on my chair; she took my panties away today. I doubt that this is a surprise to you, I realize now that this was the reason you were so particular about the exact pair you chose for me today and why you fingered me so deliberately, pressing the sheer silken fabric into the folds of my pussy. 

She called me into her office as soon as I arrived at work this morning. When I presented myself, she was on the phone but indicated that I was to come around to her side of the desk. She put her caller on "hold" for a moment and then ordered me to lift my skirt. Returning to her caller, she stared at me, or more specifically, she stared at my pussy. She did not display any emotion, she did not seem to be interested in the way that the fabric of my panties outlined my moist pussy. My only purpose, it seemed, was to keep the morning sun out of her eyes. 

I don't know how long I stood there, back straight, chest thrust forward, eyes downcast, fingers clutching the fabric of my skirt as I continued to display myself for her. My feet, shod in the five-inch spike heels which you selected for me, began to hurt and my thighs were turning to rubber. My throbbing pussy was sodden with moisture--I desperately wanted to cover myself, but I knew better. 

Eventually, she reached out and pulled at the waistband of my panties. "Take those off," she commanded. I obeyed instantly. When she held out her hand, I gave her the panties; she immediately reached up and stuffed just the crotch into my mouth, the rest of the garment dangling from between my lips. 

She flipped up the front of my skirt with her Mont Blanc. "Expose yourself," she commanded. Of course, I obeyed. 

While she continued her conversation, she began to jot a note in her planner. She chuckled at something the caller said--her laugh sent a chill down my spine. (She frightens me, Sir. She is all ice and stone--I sense no humanity in her. I still remember when you took me to her home, threatening to loan me to her while you were out of town, she was like an automaton with her slaves, not even displaying a certain satisfaction in her dominance over them; no pride of ownership, no pleasure in their beauty--nothing. Even her names for them show her complete disinterest: Cuntslave and Cockslave. I am endlessly grateful that you did not follow through with your threat that day, but took me away with you instead.)

But I digress. 

Finally, she finished writing in her planner, then removed the page, folded it into thirds, rolled it up and finally placed it in a small plastic bag. She took her fountain pen and impatiently tapped the flesh of my inner thighs with it, indicating that she wanted me to stand with my feet farther apart. She took the plastic encased note and thrust it up inside of my pussy, but not all the way. 

"See that your master receives my note," she ordered. "Of course, you will not touch it, much less read it, will you?" she queried. 

Mute, I shook my head. 

"And it goes without saying that you will not pee today. I don't want to take the chance that you would somehow dislodge my note. I put a lot of thought into what I wanted to say--I don't want my message ruined just because you thoughtlessly drank too much iced tea." 

I nodded silently. 

She jerked the panties from my mouth. "I'll give these to Cuntslave to clean the toilet. They're not good for anything else now--you've ruined them." 

She grabbed one of my hands, still clutching the fabric of my skirt as I continued to expose myself to her disinterested gaze. She pulled me toward her, uncapped her pen and began to write on my naked mound, using me in much the same way one would use a scratch pad to doodle. The nib of the fountain pen bit into my skin with every stroke--I would not be surprised to find that she cut me--I hope that is not the case--I would not want to be permanently marked by her. 

Finally, she let me go. "There," she said, smirking. "If he won't sell you to me, at least you can bear my initials for a while. Would you like to see your new adornment?" 

Not waiting for me to answer, she produced a mirror and showed me the peacock blue monogram she had inscribed on my flesh. 

Putting away the mirror, she indicated that she was finished with me. "Go back to your desk and get to work. You've wasted enough of my time today. Remember what I said: You will not pee today, not until your master receives my note. You will not touch the note, you will not touch yourself, not under any circumstance, until you have delivered the note to your master." And with that, she turned her attention to her Mont Blanc, replacing the cap with a loud click. 

When I returned to my desk and sat down, I realized that she had purposely not positioned her missive farther up into my pussy--I could feel it pinching where it folded inside of me. How foolish of me not to realize that this was her intent. Master, I confess that I fleetingly considered repositioning it farther inside of me, but no sooner had this admittedly disobedient thought crossed my mind than I felt a presence at my desk. Glancing up, I saw her standing there. I felt the blood drain from my face realizing that she must have known what I was thinking. 

"Not under any circumstance," she repeated ominously, holding out a binder clip for me to see. 

After she walked away, I rested my face against my hands for just a moment. I sat up straight as the junior of the two attorneys for whom I work approached me with an assignment. As he reached my desk I realized that you had been there earlier. I saw what you left only a split second before he did. I had no chance to hide the three clamps and the anal plug. 

He looked at your gift for a long moment, and then studied me as if he were seeing me for the first time. "It would appear that I've had you all wrong," he said speculatively. 

"No," I blurted impulsively. "you've never had me." Inwardly, I cringed. How could I have been so insolent? So careless? You've spent too much time and effort in my training for me to respond in such a cavalier manner. 

My boss nodded at the clamps and the plug. "Whose permission is necessary in order for me to see you wearing these?" he asked. 

As you have trained me, I bowed my head and quietly replied, "I will bring your request to the attention of my master. If he grants it, he will communicate with you directly as to the time, the place and the circumstances under which he will display me to you." (Sir, I must confess that I am truly puzzled by his request. He is gay--what possible interest could I hold for him?) 

And so, Sir, as you can see, I come to you with not one, but two messages. I can only guess at what the first one may be--but I hope that you will not leave me alone with her. I am truly afraid that I will end up as broken in spirit as her two house slaves.

Of course, Sir, you know that I will submit to your wishes no matter what you decide. My desire to remain in your service far outweighs my distaste, yes, even my abject fear, of that woman using me for any amount of time. As you know, my ultimate ambition is to please you, to satisfy you, to remain with you as long as it brings pleasure to both of us.

To Sir with Lust Ch. 01



Dear Sir:

It has been 17 days since we last spoke, and I have thought of you each and every day. I know that it was my choice to discontinue our...connection...but that has not made it any easier. I dreamed of you last night and I woke with a powerful orgasm, my heart pounding, my hands grasping the sheets, my body pulsing in pleasure with only one thought: You.

I dreamed that I was at work, at the college, and as I turned the corner to head down to my office I saw a man sitting in the chair just to the left of my office door. It is not unusual to see someone sitting there – either waiting for me or a colleague in a neighboring office, but this man caught my attention. There was something about him. Yet, it was not his appearance which drew me in. 

He was dressed casually, in a red golf shirt and khaki pants, reddish blonde hair and a reddish blonde mustache. As I walked down the hallway, trying not to stare, I saw him look at his watch. It was not the impatient move of someone who is annoyed at having to waste time, but the deliberate move of a confident man who is willing to wait all day to attain what he wants. 

As I advanced, he turned and looked at me and a slow smile spread across his features. I could not help but smile back, a thrill running through me, generating out from my stomach, an electric jolt which made my heart beat just a little bit faster and my pussy excitedly twitch.

I stopped in front of him and said tentatively, "Hello, Sir." My voice was nervous. I could feel my hands begin to shake a little. It was him. This was so unexpected.

"Well, hello, yourself," he said slowly in his Texan drawl. God, I loved that drawl.

"I'm surprised," I say. "I...I didn't expect..."

"No, I'm sure you didn't." He smiled again, his gaze never wavering from mine. "Why don't we go inside." It could have been a question, a suggestion, but it wasn't. We both knew it was a command. We also both knew it was a small test. I had no doubt that if I resisted he would simply smile, say that it was nice to meet me and walk away. I didn't want that.

"Um, yes, of course...." I had been about to say "Sir" again, but hesitated, turning and peering over my shoulder at the open door to the office behind me. The door stood wide open and the office's occupant was curiously watching this exchange. Thankfully, she and I didn't know each other very well, and I hoped that she thought that this man was merely the father of one of my students, or perhaps even a mature student who had come for assistance with a paper. I gave her a little wave and said "Afternoon, Cassie." Realizing she had been caught watching us, she gave me a guilty smile and waved back before pretending to stare at her computer screen.

I turned my attention back to the man who had now stood and was waiting for me to unlock the door. "Sorry," I said. He was now only a foot from me. I felt jittery and excited. "No problem," he replied, patiently. As I went to open the door, I saw him watching my hands; they shook a little, but he said nothing. I unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Please, go ahead," I said.

"Mmm...no...ladies first." His lips turned up at the corners, his warm tone teasing me and he knew it. I gave a little laugh. "Well, thank you," I responded, my voice flirty. I could not stop smiling.

I walked into the office and he followed. As I put my bag down on the floor, I heard the door close, and I realized that we were now alone, that he was here in my office and then my head began to spin. Oh, I shouldn't be doing this, I thought...I should have just walked away and then I would have never seen him again. Nervousness began to replace my excitement. What on earth was I doing here with this man? This is where I work....

"Tell me what you're thinking," he directed.

"Well..." I began hesitantly. "I'm really surprised you're here...I never thought we would actually meet in person." I looked up and met his strong gaze. "Go on," he said in an assuring tone.

"I especially never thought that I would see you after I...after I ended our....relationship." The air crackled with sexual tension as I waited for his response. Even as I stood there, having this simple discussion, I could feel the moistness between my legs. He had been right. He once said that if we ever met I would be strongly attracted to him, that the sub in me would uncontrollably want to please him, to be with him in every way he wished. But seeing those words on a chat screen is one thing, experiencing them as a reality was quite another.

"Are you glad to see me?" he asked gently.

"Yes, Sir." I replied without hesitance this time.

"That's my good little sub," he said and reached forward to touch my hair. He sighed, lightly pulling on one of my curls. "I've missed our chats very much."

I blushed with pleasure. I could feel the heat rise up my body, from my feet, up through my tingling moist pussy, up my stomach to my breasts and soon the pink radiated from my cheeks. "You blush beautifully," he noted. "I look forward to seeing that happen when you're completely naked, bound at the wrists and blindfolded."

My breath caught in my throat and a little shocked gasp escaped my lips. I swallowed nervously, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

"I know you decided that you should not continue with this. I know you had good reasons. But I decided that you need to have one good spanking from my hand before you decide that this isn't for you. Would you like that? Would you like to know what it would feel like to be spanked by me?" His eyes went up and down my body, taking in the curves of my 5'3" body. His eyes lingered over my FF chest.

Silence filled the room. I couldn't do this...what if people found out? What if...

"Yes...." I whispered.

"Good girl," he smiled at me. "Now bend over that desk of yours." He pointed to the large computer desk. My office had two desks and the larger was at least five feet long. I only used for my computer though, so there was plenty of room for me. 

I bent over the desk and felt my jeans tighten around my round ass. I wasn't sure what to do with my hands though, and then decided to push them out in front of me. Then I waited. I could feel his eyes on my bottom. "Mmm...even nicer than in the pictures," he murmured. I felt one of his hands cup my right cheek and squeeze it while the other stroked teasingly down my crack. I wondered if he could smell how wet I was. I thought I might soak through my jeans.

"Pull down your jeans," he demanded. Without a word, still bent over, I unbuttoned my tight blue jeans and pushed them down, revealing red transparent panties that I had gotten for Christmas. "I like those very much," he said, "but they need to go as well." 

The sensible voice in my head was now yelling at me to stop, that this was crazy, that I barely knew this man and that the last thing I should be doing was presenting my naked ass to him for his use and pleasure – but I wasn't listening to that voice. All I wanted to hear were more words from his mouth, more commands. I couldn't believe how wet I was. I pushed the panties down, so both they and my jeans stopped at my knees. I knew as I pushed them down they would betray how incredibly turned on I was. I wondered what he would do.

He laughed when he saw the wet panties and I knew we could both smell the scent of pussy that was filling the air. "Well, well, well. You are an even more delightful sub than I ever thought possible," he said. Another thrill of pleasure rushed through me. Nothing made me feel as wonderful as his approval and compliments. I wondered for a moment if there was anything I wouldn't do to get them.

"Are you wearing a bra that matches those delightfully soaked panties?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," I answered.

"Good, I will look forward to seeing it when you suck my cock," he replied nonchalantly. I couldn't believe we were having this discussion. And I couldn't wait to pleasure him. "But perhaps I would like to taste some of that juice that is starting to run down your thighs first," he stated. I tried to open my legs but my jeans bound me from opening them too far. 

"Push them down to your ankles but leave them on," my Master commanded. I did as he said and waited. 

"Close your eyes," he said. I closed them and focused on the sensation of the afternoon sun streaking in from the window and warming my bottom. I felt his hand on the top of my head. He stroked in one, slow, downward motion, down my spine. I held my breath, waiting for him to reach my naked bum. 

I felt his warm hand suddenly pull away once he reached the bottom of my spine. I resisted the urge to turn and see why. My patience was rewarded when I felt a silky scarf being tied around my head, blocking out the sunlight. I couldn't help but smile. 

He leaned forward, pressing his torso against my back, letting me feel his hard cock through his khaki pants. His hands slid up my arms. He looped another silky scarf around my wrists, binding them snugly. I could barely stand it. Here I was, exposed and bound. I felt like I could come at any moment and that any touch might just send me into orbit. My taunt nipples pushed painfully into the desk.

Then, he whispered into my ear, his chest still pressing me down onto the desk. "You are so goddamn sexy," he purred. I was breathless with anticipation. I would do anything for this man...this experience was everything I hoped it would be. 

Then I felt him lift off of me...he must have stepped back to admire his work because I heard him give a warm laugh. I also thought that I heard a zipper. My lips parted and for a moment I panicked, again asking myself what the hell I was doing. This man was going to fuck me, here on my desk, here at work, with Cassie across the hall listening. And let's be clear – I'm not the kind of girl who can have sex and not make a sound. The whole damn building would know before we were through.

But I was wrong – and overeager for his cock. He had heard my breath catch in my throat when he pulled his zipper and he laughed. "Soon, my little slut," he said, "But first...."

(continued)



To Sir With Lust Ch. 02



October 24, 1998

Sir,

You asked me about the man who occupies my time on Monday and Thursday nights. 

I met him almost a year ago--when I was with someone else. My lover at the time performed with a jazz band and was appearing at a local club. On the night in question, my then lover came to my home just as I stepped out of the shower. Still dripping wet, he carried me to my bed and made love to me, bringing me up to the point of orgasm, but not allowing me to climax. Then, with my nipples hardened almost to the point of pain, pearls of moisture clinging to my pussy, my clit throbbing rhythmically, he told me to finish getting ready to go out. 

While I put on my makeup and dried and styled my hair, he chose my attire for the evening: a short cobalt blue wrap-around dress of heavy silk, cut on the bias so that it clung to my body. Under it, I was to wear only a garter belt and black nylons. He chose black high-heeled shoes with straps that wrapped around my ankles. 

When I finished my hair and makeup, he slowly massaged my still trembling body with perfumed skin cream, paying special attention to my breasts, my pussy, my ass and my inner thighs. He also spent a great deal of time caressing my lower back--he knew that I can climax just by being lightly stroked and tickled there. He then dressed me: pulling the nylons over my calves, up my thighs and attaching the stockings to the garter belt. He slipped the high heels on my feet, wrapping and buckling the straps around my ankles. Finally, he helped me put my dress on, stroking me as he wrapped the silken fabric around my body. He caressed my breasts through the dress, smiling in satisfaction as my nipples pressed through the material, plainly visible. He asked me to stroll back and forth across the room several times, smiling at the way that my breasts bounced and the way that the silk cupped my ass as I walked. 

It was in this condition that he took me to the club where he was performing, seated me at a table with friends and took the stage. 

It was a pleasant enough evening, and I was able to talk and laugh with our friends, but most of the time I listened to the music, feeling the bass reverberate through my body and thinking about my hungry pussy--and what I would do to my lover when I got him home that night. 

About an hour into the evening, I excused myself to use the ladies' room. When I exited, I saw a man in the corridor, dressed in a black silk shirt, black leather jeans and black boots. His back was to me--he turned at the sound of my heels echoing on the tiled floor and slowly looked me up and down as I approached, a sensual, lazy smile--actually a leer--spreading across his face and he deliberately blocked my path. 

I asked him to excuse me, and he asked what I would give him in order to pass. I laughed and told him that I would give him nothing. 

He put a hand out and cupped my right breast, pinching the nipple sharply. When I opened my mouth to gasp at the sudden pain, he covered it with his own, his tongue aggressively exploring my mouth. Abruptly, he pulled me into the men's room, locking the door behind us. 

He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and stuffed it into my mouth. Holding my arms behind my back with one hand, he removed his belt with the other. Spinning me around, he bound my wrists with the belt and then released my arms. 

He pinned me against the rough brick wall of the bathroom; I was facing away from him, my nipples brushing against the harsh surface, his body pressed firmly against mine, kissing the back of my neck while his hands traveled along my legs, slowly pulling up the skirt of my dress. When the blue silk was bunched up around my waist, he backed away slightly, pulling my ass toward him. His hands started to explore the globes of my ass, fingers traveling along the crevice dividing my buttocks, massaging my asshole roughly. Reaching further forward, he discovered my pussy, which was, by now, awash with my juices. Placing the thumb and forefinger of one hand on either side of my clit, he masturbated me, rubbing my little pleasure button back and forth while he finger-fucked my asshole with his other hand. 

My knees buckled as the waves of an orgasm swept over me, I caught myself against the wall with my arms, pushing myself against the stranger's hands as they continued to manipulate me. As my climax subsided, my captor bent me over; I heard the sound of a zipper and in the next instant my pussy was filled with a hard cock. He fucked me roughly and insistently, never saying a word. The only sound was that of his massive cock churning in and out of my drenched pussy. When he came, his ejaculate filled me and streamed down my thighs. I came with him, my muscles contracting around him, squeezing his erection as if to milk the last possible drop of his semen. 

After a moment, he stood me upright and removed the handkerchief from my mouth. He kissed me tenderly, sweetly, in sharp contrast to the manner in which he had so ruthlessly coupled with me just moments before. He then pushed down on my shoulders, forcing me to kneel before him. He stood with his feet planted wide, pelvis thrust forward, his arms folded over his chest. I knew full well what he wanted, but I paused for just a moment to admire for the first time the instrument of my subjugation, the instrument of my pleasure. It was breathtaking, Sir. Long, thick, crowned with a plum colored head, veins standing out in sharp relief, it pointed toward the ceiling. 

I dallied too long in my admiration and I jumped in shock at the stinging slap that he delivered to the side of my face. He then grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me toward his rigid shaft, ordering me to lick his cock, his balls and his thighs clean. As I did so, I tasted the pre-come which was oozing from the head of his cock as it spread over my tongue. 

When I was finished, he pulled me to my feet and bent me over again. Taking my breasts in his hands, he roughly massaged them and pinched my nipples as he buried his cock in my pussy a second time. I quickly realized that he was only using my pussy as a means to lubricate his throbbing member. Seconds later, I felt the head of his massive erection poised at my asshole. He rammed himself into me, invading me, seemingly tearing me apart as he savagely fucked my tender anus while he twisted and pinched my nipples. 

I could feel his cock swell within me as he rammed his cock in and out, his hands still grasping my breasts. As I felt a third orgasm rising within me, I heard him give a voice to his own release. His creamy ejaculate filled my nether hole, trickling toward the opening of my pussy, and . . . I came again, my rectum squeezing him far more firmly and more tightly than my pussy had the first time he fucked me. 

Once again, I leaned against the rough brick as he rested against me, both of us panting to catch our breath. He turned me to face him, kissing me again, his tongue tenderly exploring my mouth. 

"What shall I do with you?" he asked, jerking the end of the belt, still binding my hands, between my legs and over the lips of my pussy. I moaned aloud at the further stimulation of my swollen clit. 

"Maybe I'll just leave you here tied to the toilet. You look quite delectable, you know; hair disheveled, your dress hanging open, exposing your tits, my come running from your pussy and your asshole, trailing down your thighs. I doubt that anyone would release you, and I'm equally sure that any of the other men here tonight would be delighted to sample your charms, just as I have." 

Panicked, I begged him to free me. 

Finally he relented, but not before he fucked my mouth, his hard cock forcing itself past the back of my throat while my lips and nose nestled in the dark nest of curls at his crotch. His hands gripped the sides of my face, fingers tangled in my hair as his erection churned between my lips and over my tongue. He ravaged my mouth for several minutes before he filled it with yet another batch of his hot seed. 

He gently lifted me to my feet and adjusted my clothing into some semblance of order. Once again, he kissed me gently, tenderly, with a sweetness that belied the earlier animalistic savagery of our fucking. And turning away from me, he unlocked the door and walked out of the men's room without a word or a backward glance. 

I stumbled back into the ladies' room to fix my hair and my makeup. Gazing at my reflection, I was struck by the erotic imagery presented in the mirror. My face was covered with white streaks of my nameless lover's semen, my hair was tousled, my lips were swollen and slightly bruised. I gave off an aura of wild, animalistic passion. As I continued to stare at my reflection, I wiped some of the ejaculate coating my cheek with my finger and licked it off with my tongue. 

I felt as if I was looking at a stranger. I couldn't believe the radical transformation I had undergone at the hands of this man. 

I washed my face, brushed out my hair, repaired my makeup and returned to the table just as the band was taking a break. My lover kissed me lightly on the lips and asked if I was having a good time. Without waiting for an answer, he told me that he wanted to introduce me to an old friend--a fraternity brother in fact. I'm sure you know who it was, Sir. The man who had just spent the last 45 minutes exploring and invading every orifice of my body with his cock and his fingers was smiling at me as if meeting me for the first time. 

I did my best to hide my confusion and sat quietly as my lover and my violator sat and reminisced over old times. I learned that they had shared a room at their fraternity house. They took many of the same classes together so that they could share books and notes. They even bought a car together and split the expenses for gas and upkeep. Of course, they double-dated frequently--but group dating was popular when they were in school. As the band took the stage to play their last set of the evening, my lover invited his friend to sit with the rest of us--and instructed me to take care of him. 

"I'm sure she will," said his friend. 

And we sat at the table for the rest of the evening, the stranger's hand under my skirt, fingering my pussy and my clit, keeping me just on the edge of yet another orgasm. As the club was closing, and the group at my table bid each other good night, his friend leaned over to kiss my cheek, as chastely as a schoolboy. 

"We're going to be very good friends, my dear," he whispered in my ear. "Very good friends indeed." 

And so, Sir, I'm sure that it will come as no surprise to learn that I'm no longer with my lover from a year ago. His fraternity brother doesn't believe in sharing the way that he used to. 



To Sir with Lust Ch. 02



So there I was, laying out in front of him on my office desk, my panties at my ankles, my round white ass exposed, and my arms above my head, laying across the desk and tied at the wrists. I was his to do with as he wished.

I loved that thought. And he knew it.

Finally, I felt his warm hands caress my bottom and involuntarily I let out a little sigh. But no sooner than I had, the warm hands were suddenly gone, only to be immediately followed by a terse THWACK against my bottom. He paused for a moment after the first spank, letting me feel the sensation fully. I could feel my bottom start to heat where he had made contact. I ached it feel it again, and I wiggled backwards a little in hopes of inviting another smack.

He leaned his body over mine again, as he had moments ago, so I could again feel his raging hard-on through his khakis and the stimulation of the fabric of his pants against my bare bottom and legs. "What do you say, my little sub?" he whispered in my ear.

"Thank you, Sir?" I said, unsure of exactly what he wanted.

"Mmm, you're welcome. What else do you say?" he persisted.

"Um...please....please more, Sir," I said.

"Please more of what?" His voice teased my ear. He shifted against me so I could feel his cock pressing right against my asshole.

"Please spank me, Sir...please...please....I'll do anything, Sir...please just...." Those must have been the magic words because he stepped back and I was rewarded with a prompt smack...and then another...and another...They varied in their intensity and I awaited each one like a precious gift. He paddled my entire my bum, one cheek, then the other, then a strong smack to the middle, not just spanking the same spot over and over again, as old boyfriends had done when I would beg them to spank me during sex. I was certain my ass would be red by this point, so unused to this treatment, but I did not care. I was so wet that I could feel my inner thighs becoming slick.

I was lucky that he didn't make me count the slaps, because I'm not sure that I could of. All that existed for a time there was his hand, my bare bottom and the deliciousness of it all. There was no doubt that he was my Master.

He had paused and untied my hands but I hadn't noticed right away. They remained crossed as if bound above my head. I felt like I was floating. I guessed this was what people called subspace, this wonderful heady feeling running though my body.

"Time to stand." He commanded.

He stood behind me and gently lifted me by the hips, and I was grateful for the help since I was stiff from being in the same position and still dizzy from the pleasure of his hand. Still gripping my naked hips, he instructed me to step out of my dark red high heels and slide my jeans off. The shoes were easy enough to step out of, but the jeans had become wadded around my ankles with my red transparent panties. I noticed in passing that the panties had not become any less dry, the dark red gusset was still soaked with my juices and continued to be a billboard for how weak I was against pleasure.

I finally managed the jeans off and then he said in my right ear, "Put the shoes back on." Without a thought, I did. Then he turned me around, and I flushed when I looked up into his face. He looked me straight in the eyes and I was held by his gaze.

"I enjoyed that very much," he murmured. "You were excellent." I flushed even more red, partially with embarrassment when I remembered the pleasure of being spanked and partially with pleasure that he was so pleased with me. The best part, however, was that he had enjoyed it.

The men I had been with before had all been fairly conservative, without a BDSM bone in their bodies. If I could convince one to spank me or tie me up (which often took months of effort and convincing) I always knew that they were just doing it to please me, and that it was just a matter of putting up with the slightly-kinky girlfriend. Once, a boyfriend had even laughed when he spanked me because I moaned. His laughter had humiliated me. I felt grateful to be finally understood.

His hands released my hips and he took a step back, sitting down in my office swivel chair. I momentarily felt a little weak standing on my own.

"Now, Professor," he said with a smile, "unbutton your blouse for me...slowly."

His mention of my job title suddenly reminded me that I was at work, in my office, and standing in front of this man whom I knew but didn't know wearing only a blouse, a bra and red high heels. My heart pounded a little. Yet, I could still feel that my pussy was slick as an ocean and my thighs were sticky from all the juice that kept escaping. 

"May I close the drapes?" I asked, hesitant.

"No, you may not," he answered matter-of-factly. "And not just because you forgot to address me properly."

Oops. I had forgotten to call my Master, "Sir" as he wished. Damn it, I thought. 

I was on the third floor, and luckily no buildings immediately faced mine, but I wondered how much a person from the street below could see. After all, I could clearly see the evening students who were arriving, walking the half-block from the bus stop. Wouldn't they be able to see me if all they did was look up?

"I'm waiting," he reminded me.

My hands were shaky again. I began to unbutton my black blouse. The top two buttons were already undone -- I like it so that people might be able to see a hint of cleavage but not get to see the whole 'shebang' -- and the third button was the one that kept the fabric stretched over my breasts. 

I undid the button, the fabric immediately gapping open. I paused, looking at my Master for his instruction to move to the next button. He smiled at my obedience, gave a quick nod, and I unbuttoned the next one, and when he nodded again, the next one. Only two buttons remained, but he now had a clear view of my transparent red bra and my hard nipples. 

"Unbutton the last two and let the blouse drop to the floor."

I did as he instructed, now standing almost completely naked in front of him. I couldn't believe this was me. I was usually so strong, I took orders from no one, and yet here I was anxiously awaiting his next command. 

His eyes rolled over my body, and I believe he was pleased with what he saw. I am short but very curvy, with much larger natural breasts than could be expected on such a petite woman. My skin is pale and smooth -- and it is likely why some people have told me I have an angelic look about me. But I am not an angel, and my Master knows this. I ache to be spanked. I ache to be used. I ache to please.

"Sit on my lap," he said softly.

I smiled and took a step forward, but then I paused. "I think I might get your pants...ummm...damp... if I do so, Sir."

"Hmm...you are correct, my lovely little sub," he noted. "Perhaps it would be best if you removed them. I will be needing my pants for our excursion later on."

I didn't really process his last remark because I became focused on the task of removing his pants. I kneeled in front of him and looked up. "Do you wish them all the way off, Sir?" I questioned.

"No," he said decidedly. "Just pushing them down will be enough for our purposes."

I undid his belt, my mind reeling about what he might do to me with that belt later, and unfastened his pants. 

"Would you please stand, Master?" I said quietly. He stood and I slid his pants over his well muscled thighs. He had not lied when he said he was a runner. "Slide my shorts down too, darlin'," he said.

I slid down his black boxer briefs and his hard cock sprang free. It was only an inch from my face and I longed to kiss it. I almost did. I knew such action would result in a punishment though, and while I suspected I might enjoy that, too, I thought better of displeasing my Master with impatient behaviour. So, instead I looked up at him expectantly, hoping he might give me permission to pleasure his beautiful shaft.

He looked down at me, knowing what my eyes asked but ignored my silent plea and instead smiled, stroked my hair and then sat down.

"I believe you were instructed to sit on my lap," he said pointedly.

I stood, taking a quick glance at the window. Fortunately, it was summer and so it was not dark outside yet. If it had been, he might have told me to turn on the office lights, which would have meant that students walking from the bus stop would have a clear view of my naked torso, save for my sexy red bra.

I turned and sat down on his lap and gasped when the pressure of sitting reminded me of my red spanked bum. I looked over my shoulder at him, checking to see what he wanted me to do next. He leaned forward a little bit, turned me and scooped up my legs from beneath my knees. I was now right across his lap, my knees hanging over the side of the chair, naked but for the bra and high heels.

Pulling me into him, he kissed me deeply. This was all heavenly. Pulling back, he uttered, "You have lovely full lips, little one. And that bra is delightful. It only needs one tiny adjustment." With his right hand he pulled my milky white right breast free, up and out of its red material constraint. He did the same with the left, and once it was unbound, he ran his thumb over its light pink nipple. It stiffened further. I felt his cock stir from beneath my bottom so I knew he approved. He leaned his head forward and wrapped his lips around my left nipple, gently suckling. Then I felt his teeth graze against it and I almost came from the pleasure of it. He began sucking harder and I began to breathe hard and wriggle my ass against his cock, aching to be impaled on it. He raised his head and looked at me, his eyes dark with lust.

"What is it you want?" he asked.

"I ache to feel your cock in me, Sir." I answered.

"Now that's not entirely true," he replied. "You ache to cum. Why is that?"

"Because...." I said in quiet voice.

"Because?" He prompted. "Because you are what?"

"...Because," I paused, looking away from him, "Because I am a cumslut." My eyes darted to his face to catch his expression. He was smiling.

"That's right. You're a little cumslut. That is why you presented your ass to me for spanking; that is why your cunt has not stopped dripping since I arrived. You know, my little slut, my little whore, that your Master is the only one who can really give you what you want, what you need so badly. Isn't that right, slut?"

He knew that the name calling only made me hotter. While I could never take it at the start, I was a slave to those words. Once, on the phone with him, I came when he called me a fuckwhore and I hadn't even been touching myself. After I came, he pointed out that cumming like that was proof of my nature. He was right. 

"Yes, Master," I said, feeling breathless.

"Good girl," he replied. He leaned forward again to continue his ministrations on my left nipple and I felt his hand snake between my thighs. I was so grateful. I spread my legs as best I could to give him full access. He stroked up and down my pussy lips, tracing the folds of my juice soaked cunt. He ignored my swollen clit instead testing to see if he could slide his middle finger into me. I was so wet it slid in with ease. 

He finger fucked me a little and tried a second finger and then a third. I had never had three fingers in me before. Since I'm small, I seem to be small everywhere, and most of my boyfriends had never tried more than two, given how tight I am. With the three fingers it felt really tight but good. I moaned with each thrust and couldn't stop myself from moving my hips up to meet his plunging fingers.

His thumb found my clit and rubbed as he worked his fingers inside me, stroking my g-spot. His teeth closed around my nipple again, and this time he bit down. The combined pain and pleasure was too much for me...I came uncontrollably ....and without permission. I cried out and put my hand over my mouth to stifle the noise. My pussy spasmed around his fingers. He continued to fuck me, even as I came, and this only made me cum harder and longer. I writhed on his lap until I was weak and spent, and then I went limp. One of my shoes fell off and landed with a thump on the floor. Master cradled me gently.

In my haze, I heard him say, "It's wonderful that you cum so hard. That was a pleasure to watch. But you know well that you are not permitted to cum without permission. I think you know what's going to need to happen next."

I struggled back to consciousness and nodded. "Yes, Sir..."

(continued) 



To Sir With Lust Ch. 03



November 4, 1998

Sir, 

Last night you asked me to disassociate my conscious self from my body; you wanted me to, in essence, watch myself, observe and describe my reactions as you play with me. It was your desire to learn more about what arouses me, what makes my breath quicken, my pulse race, straightens my spine, raises the hair on the back of my neck. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I begin with the anticipation I feel when I know you will be home soon. I’ve never told you, but I fret when you’re late, concerned that some ill might have befallen you. I know that you probably enjoying yourself with friends, amusing yourself with another toy, or someone who is not a bottom; while this would disappoint me, it is nothing compared to the agony I would feel if something untoward happened to you. 

When I hear the sound of your car’s engine in the driveway, my heart begins to pound, and I race through the house so that I will be ready to open the door for you as I hear your footsteps approaching. Flushed and just a little breathless, I offer you a drink and an appetizer to curb your hunger until you are ready for your dinner. 

You study me as I stand in front of you, ready to do your bidding. I’ve left my hair down this evening, held back with a white satin ribbon. I’ve chosen to wear a 1950's-style hostess apron. It’s made of sheer white organza with a bib which barely covers my nipples, both the top and the bottom of the apron are trimmed with a lacey ruffle. The apron ties in the back, a large puffy bow rests just above my ass. I’ve also selected a white satin garter belt, sheer white seamed silk stockings and a pair of white satin mules. 

“Bring the hairbrush to me,” is your first order this evening. Hurrying to your room, I retrieve the antique tortoiseshell brush from your dresser. I stand silently before you as you sit in your armchair, listening to the classical music playing on the stereo. After a moment, you extend your hand and I give you the hairbrush, which you set on the table next to you. 

At your nod, I curl up at the foot of your chair, awaiting your next command. I relish the feel of your fingertips in my hair, brushing against my scalp, and combing through the length of my tresses. Your hand lightly brushes my face, caressing it, and the touch sends shivers down my spine. I long to be able to rub my face against your palm and fingertips, but I do not lest I disturb you. 

After several long minutes of silence, you pull me up to you, settling me into your lap, my buttocks nestling against the beginning of an erection. My head rests against your shoulder, my legs draped over the arm of the chair and crossed at the ankles, hands in my lap. I feel the caress of your lips at my temple and I feel your teeth as they lightly press into the tender flesh of my earlobes. They’re small gestures, but I feel the butterflies in my stomach take flight nonetheless. 

After a moment, your begin to stroke me with your right hand. It travels along my neck, to the center of my throat, then slowly slides down the center of my chest, your fingers resting in the cleavage of my breasts. Your hand then cups my left breast, your thumb passing back and forth over the nipple, which hardens immediately. You tug at the ring, twisting it, making my clit jump. 

All of these movements are slow and deliberate. The expression on your face is one of intense concentration. It takes me a few minutes, but I realize that you’re studying me as if seeing me for the first time; examining my body and my reactions to your touch in much the same way that you did when my previous owner offered to sell me to you. 

I try to suppress it, but I am already becoming aroused. I desperately want to arch my back, to press my breast more firmly into your hand, to brush my nipple against your palm. Both of my nipples have hardened, and I can feel my clit begin to throb between my thighs. I force myself to relax, knowing that the longer I do so, the sweeter my reward will be--when and if you allow me to climax. 

You cup the back of my head with your right hand and bring my face to yours, lowering your mouth on mine for a kiss, sweet at first, then becoming more passionate as it continues. Your tongue begins to explore my mouth, tasting me, sucking on my tongue. I relish your kisses, Sir, the soft touch of your moist lips brushing against mine, the taste of you, I wait for your saliva to flow into my mouth, I time my breathing so that I can inhale as you exhale, all in an effort to absorb you, absorb your essence, to combine it with my own. I feel the play of your fingertips against the small of my back and I tremble with desire for you, my skin covered with goose bumps. 

To my disappointment, you end our kiss. Your hand skims over my torso and seems to hesitate just above my mound, your fingers barely touching me, teasing me. Once again, I have to fight not to push myself against your fingers. I am so hungry to have you penetrate me--with your fingers, your tongue, your cock, or any erotic tool of your choosing--that it is all I can do to remain in my relaxed, compliant posture. I know from experience that if I look too eager, you will continue to withhold from me that which I crave. 

Your fingers slide into my pussy abruptly--I am jolted by this sudden invasion and it takes a split second for me to adjust to your fingers thrusting inside of me, opening me. I feel you grasp my clit, pinching and twisting it, causing me to gasp, even as I begin to writhe in . . . is it pain or pleasure? You have some difficulty in keeping your fingers on my clit--my lubrication has spread over your fingers, over the lips of my pussy, and I’m almost too slippery for you to grasp. You give me a knowing look as I involuntarily push myself against your hand. I try to glance away so that you don’t see the pleasure reflected in my eyes, but I’m too late. You already know I’m aroused. 

Your hand slides a little further between my thighs and I feel your middle finger pushing against my sphincter and into my ass. It is with the greatest restraint that I continue to relax, but as my muscles grip your finger, enveloping it, I feel my pussy begin to throb. In spite of my efforts to remain docile, passively accepting your exploration of my body, I close my eyes and exhale with a ragged sigh, ending in a soft moan. 

This is what you’ve been waiting for. You flip me over so that I’m draped face down over your lap. Your left hand caresses my ass and I sense, rather than see, you pick up the antique hairbrush from the side table. I tense in anticipation of the first blow, but it does not come. I feel nothing but the soft caress of your hand. I continue to brace myself, but am only aware of the sensuous stroke of your palm gliding over my naked backside, relaxing me. In spite of myself, I relax. Immediately, I feel the sting of the brush against my upturned bottom, followed by a second blow, then a third, a fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh . . . and then I lose count, aware only of the pain burning my derriere. 

My earlier efforts at self-control are abandoned as I writhe against you, trying to escape the blows. You wield the brush expertly, purposely not establishing a rhythm and thereby not allowing me to anticipate your next blow. After a few minutes, the pain is so great that I start to cry, quietly, knowing that if you hear me, you will continue the spanking indefinitely. 

Slowly, I realize that the pain is giving way to a perverse pleasure. My pussy is throbbing and my ass is reaching up as if to meet the hairbrush as it descends. The warmth of my flesh has served to relax me and I am beginning to crave the stinging slap against my backside. Recognizing my behavior, you quietly set the brush down and begin to spank me with your bare hand. It’s a powerfully erotic gesture: the sting of your hand which gives way to a caress as your hand lingers briefly on my reddened ass, stroking it as if to erase the pain. Through my tears I become aware of my engorged pussy throbbing almost convulsively; my clit is distended, peeking out from its tiny hood. In spite of the pain and my humiliating posture--no, because of it--I’m on the brink of an orgasm. 

No sooner do I realize this than my release comes. I cry out as my pussy, disappointingly empty, convulses and churns. My clitoris throbs almost painfully, and I buck against you so violently that I almost fall from your lap. Your arms encircle me, not allowing me to fall, and you hold me until the spasms subside. 

Abruptly, though, you slide me off of your lap, back onto my knees, facing you. “Show your gratitude, my pet,” you command. 

Reaching up, I unfasten and unzip your trousers, drawing your erection toward my lips. Pausing briefly, I caress it with my cheek, feeling its stiffness and its heat against the side of my face. My cheek is immediately streaked with your pre-come. I press my lips against first one side of your cock, then the other. It’s not a kiss, rather a simple caress of my lips. 

I start to lick your cock, from the base up the length of your shaft, up and down. I lick you over and over, each stroke of my tongue overlapping the one before. You put your hand on the back of my head as if to pull me forward a bit and I know what you want. I wrap my lips around the head of your cock and allow my tongue to swirl around the corona, first in one direction, then the other. My lips tighten around your erection and I slowly lower my head, my mouth seeming to swallow you. My lips descend the length of your cock until I feel the mushroom-shaped head nudging the back of my throat. As I relax, I feel your cock plunge down my throat. My tongue works furiously against the underside of your cock, you can feel the rough texture at the root of my tongue as it scours that sweet spot just under the head of your prick. I suck you harder, my cheeks pulled around the sides of your erection, my lips brushing against the curls at the base, my nose delivering Eskimo kisses to your crotch, my lips stretched around you as I pleasure you. 

Without making a sound, you suddenly grab the sides of my head with both hands, pushing me down even farther on your cock. Normally, I would draw this out, playing our unspoken game, seeing how long I can service you before you give in to your climax. Tonight, however, you’re intent on flooding my mouth with your jism. I taste the first salty spurts and, knowing that you enjoy watching, I lean back slightly and open my mouth, catching every shot of your come while letting you see my mouth being filled with your ejaculate and flowing over my lower lip. 

When you orgasm has subsided, I gently close my mouth around your still firm cock and swallow the present that you’ve given me. My mouth is still around you, soft, my tongue still caressing you, gently now, as I feel the last spasms fade away. 

We stay there for a few minutes, you still sitting in your chair, pelvis thrust forward, leaning back; me, kneeling, nestled between your legs, my cheek resting against one thigh, your cock still in my mouth. I feel a stinging between my legs and I realize that I’ve become aroused once again while you were fucking my mouth. My pussy is swollen and awash with my juices. I know that the minute I move away from you, you’ll be able to smell the evidence of my arousal, you’ll also see my stiffened nipples and the sexual flush that must be covering my body. 

I feel the brush handle stroke my cheek. Looking up at you, I am startled by the animalistic expression on your face. 

“Take this,” is your only comment as you hand me the brush. “Now, go sit on the hassock. I want you to entertain me for a while, my pet.” 

I crawl to the ottoman and sit on it, wincing as the cold leather presses into my still warm ass cheeks. Hairbrush in hand, I slowly begin to stroke the bristles down the length of my hair, my face turned away from you slightly. After a moment, I turn to face you, my eyes looking demurely into yours, and I let the bristles graze first my right nipple, then my left. I tease myself with the brush, moving it from side to side, allowing the brush to tug on the little gold ring glinting in my left nipple. 

I continue to brush my hair, using longer strokes now. I allow the brush to glide from the ends of my hair to my belly, then lower. Anticipating your command, I spread my legs, displaying my aroused cunt for you. I know that the lips have flushed to a deep rose, and I can visualize my naked mound, covered with my juices, pearls of moisture collecting at the lips of my pussy. 

Arching my spine so that my breasts point toward the ceiling, my hair thrown over my shoulders so as not to obstruct your view, I start to fuck myself with the hairbrush. Initially, I let the brush graze over the pinkened skin of my mound. As my pussy begins to throb, I turn the brush around in my hand and start to tease myself with the handle. First, I brush it against my clit, wiggling against it. Eventually, I begin to slide the handle into my sex, moving it against my G-spot. As I plunge the handle into my body, my pussy rides against it, muscles gripping the antique handle, my thighs spread wantonly so that you can watch me as I pleasure myself. My left hand starts to play with my tits, which are trembling from my efforts as I masturbate myself with the hairbrush. I pinch my nipples, feeling the electric shocks traveling from breast to cunt, causing my torso to buck and to shudder. 

Eyes shut, I’m lost in my pleasure, and I am jolted by the sudden weight of your body against mine. You take the brush from my hand and push me, supine, against the hassock. Your turgid cock invades my pussy, stretching and filling me in a single stroke. I feel your teeth as they bite and pinch my nipples, setting my pussy on fire once again. 

With your left arm around me, you pull me over to my side. I feel your right hand, holding the brush, slide the handle of the brush against my asshole. Still slick with my juices, it penetrates the tiny opening easily. 

Still holding me, you fuck me violently, penetrating me with your shaft and the hairbrush; your cock slides into my pussy as you withdraw the brush from my nether hole, then you plunge the brush into my ass until I can feel the bristles pricking my skin as you extract your cock from my steaming cunt. You pull at the nipple ring with your tongue and your teeth. The sensations travel from my breast, through my belly and into my throbbing clit. I start to buck and lurch against the tools, one of flesh and one of wood, churning in and out of my body. 

I feel the rumblings of a second orgasm slowly building deep in my belly. Involuntarily I stiffen, my back arching, as my pussy and my ass tighten around the instruments of pleasure which have invaded me. I feel my muscles constrict, almost cramp, as they contract; looking into your eyes I can feel you willing me over the precipice, I see my nakedness through your eyes, and I gasp as I feel the stinging slap of your hand against my naked buttock. 

“Come!” is your only command. 

. . . and I hear no more as I give myself over to my orgasm. My body shudders, my breathing grows irregular and labored, the muscles of my pussy contract around your hard cock, churning, squeezing, clutching, grasping, milking you; my swollen and sensitive clit, throbbing, pulsating in time with my pussy, erupting with an almost electric shock every time your cock brushes against it, body heaving, convulsing, and you continue to fuck me, to fuck me, to fuck me; your cock plowing into my pussy with unbelievable speed and force, the room is spinning, colors like a kaleidoscope blur before my eyes, I'm splintering, shattering into a million pieces, ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod--don't stop, Sir, please don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop . . . 

As my orgasm levels out, I can feel your cock swell within me, the speed of your thrusts suddenly increases. I look up into your eyes and I see that you're about to go over the edge. I start to murmur into your ear. "Come for me, Sir. Come on. Come for me. You know that I want to feel you shoot deep into my pussy. Sir, give it to me. Give it up. Come on, baby, fill me with your seed, you know I want it. 

My hand finds your swollen cock, my thumb and finger wrap around the base of your erection, squeezing you, stroking you, simulating the movement of my pussy, moving up and down the base of your shaft, up and down, up and down, fingers squeezing, pussy squeezing, my body returning your thrusts. 

I hear your moans begin, signaling the beginning of your orgasm. Your back stiffens, your body momentarily stilled, and then thrusts into me with renewed vigor. I can feel your hard cock throbbing inside of me as you start to shot your seed into my hungry pussy. I hear your voice, low and animalistic as a primal growl rumbles from deep within and your voice trails off, ending in a gasp as you surrender to the torrent of sexual energy that crashes over your body; you continue to pound into me, filling my pussy with your semen, I'm filled by you, filled with you, overflowing with the evidence of your passion . . . 

You collapse on top of me, into my waiting arms. Completely spent, we can barely move, barely breathe. I hide my face against your neck, kissing you, tasting your sweat. Your cock, still hard, remains sheathed in my pussy, which is still contracting around you. You finally catch your breath, lift your head from my shoulder and kiss my lips. Smiling down at me, you rain tender kisses over my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, my temples, my closed eyelids, my chin and then back to my lips. 



To Sir with Lust Ch. 03



I knew I was going to be punished, but like many subs, I still felt a need to resist, at least just a little.

"I'm really sorry, Sir....but I only came because the pleasure of your fingers was too much for me," I said in a quiet voice.

He looked down at me and smiled. I thought for a moment I might have won him over, but then he replied in a calm but stern voice, "You know the rules. And you also know that arguing with me over basic rules will only increase your punishment. Now stand up."

I sighed. I felt petulant, but I stood up. My legs felt a little shaky and I wobbled just a bit. I was glad that it was beginning to get dark outside and that the office light was still out, because otherwise my almost complete nudity would be easily seen from the street below.

"Put your other shoe back on," he commanded.

I must be in a haze, I thought, realizing that the missing shoe was likely not helping my ability to stand. But then, I always have trouble thinking after I cum. It is as if the world gets a little fuzzy around the edges.

I found the red shoe and slid it on, then stood again and waited for instruction.

He stood and pulled his khakis back up. He remained standing. He towered at least a foot over me. 

"Did you have the toy with you?" he asked. The air between us seemed to crackle with energy.

"Yes," I replied hesitantly.

"Get it," he said.

I fished into my briefcase bag and located the toy in an interior side pocket. It was a medium-sized lavender phallic-shaped vibrator. Wide at the base to keep it from being fully inserted, it also came with thin elastic leg harnesses to help keep it in place. It was a toy he had instructed me to buy some time ago and to keep with me...and I still carried it, even now.

"Turn around, bend over and insert it into your pussy," he instructed. He sat back down in my office chair. While the room was darkening, and I could not be seen from the street below, my Master would have a perfect view for the show, even in the fading light.

I flushed red. Well, he certainly knew how to pick punishments, I thought. I had never had a man sit and watch me this way, and he knew it would embarrass me. But, I was going to have to pay the piper. I turned, and spread my legs wide and bent forward. I slipped the leg harnesses up my legs. My pussy was still slick from cumming and it was easy to lube the vibrator with my pussy juice. I knew he wanted a show, so I was sure to slide it in slowly, letting him watch the cock disappear into me. Once it was in, I paused.

"Do you wish me to fuck myself with it, Sir?" I asked.

"No," he answered. "But you can give me the other part of it."

He wanted the remote that came with it -- of course. Continuing to present my spread stuffed pussy to him, I slid my hand into the bag again and felt around for the remote. Finding it, I reached backwards to offer it to him.

"It has batteries in it?" he inquired before taking it.

"Yes."

"Interesting," he remarked. "Now turn and bend yourself over the desk and put your hands behind your back."

I bit my lip, excitedly wondering if I might get another spanking. The part of me that had good sense was completely silenced by now. That's the thing about me -- I'm a pleasure slut. My Master knows this. I would probably do just about anything if there was pleasure to be had from it.—I just have to be led into it.

I leaned forward over the desk again, putting my hands behind my back as he had instructed. I heard him stand and move behind me. He somehow managed to use my panties to bind my wrists -- and I could feel how they were still damp from earlier. I waited for the spanking to begin but none came. The silence as I waited was erotic. The room smelled like sex. I could hear how quiet the building had become, and guessed that everyone else had gone home. Wouldn't they be surprised by this show?

Then, suddenly, the vibrator began buzzing. I drew a breath in quickly, both in surprise and because I was trying to bear down against the intense pleasure so I would not come again without permission. 

He gripped my butt cheeks, massaging them. He pressed his torso against my back and reached around and rubbed my swollen clit. The pleasure was almost too intense. For a moment I wondered if a person can pass out from pleasure. More pussy juice was starting to run down my thighs. I felt him catch some of it as he gently slid his hand up the inside of my left thigh, teasing my skin. I was breathing hard and uncontrolled moans escaped my lips. 

I felt his thumb press against my anus, making little circles around it and teasing the hole. Barely thinking, I pressed my hips backward against the invading digit and I felt him press forward edging slowly into my virgin asshole. I had occasionally lightly fingered my anus during phone sex -- at Master's command -- but I had never actually...

I felt his thumb plunge past my tight sphincter. He paused a moment to let me adjust. Between the buzzing in my pussy and the intense feeling of fullness in my ass, I knew I was going to come soon.

"Master, may I cum?" I gasped.

"Very good, darlin'. You did well to ask. But no...not quite yet..." he said, and I felt his thumb begin to slowly thrust in and out of my ass. 

Just then, the buzzing in my pussy stopped as quickly as it had begun. It didn't matter though. I was so far gone my heart kept beating fast and I pushed back against his thumb the best I could, beginning to fuck it so that he didn't even need to move it. I could barely hold back the orgasm.

"Master, please...please Master may I cum?" I begged.

"Yes, you may," he answered simply.

I managed to get out the words, "Thank you, Master," before I came, hard and noisily. 

"Uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....uuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh...aahhhhhh..."

It felt like I came forever. I felt my sphincter repeatedly squeeze his thumb as I came, and it only made me cum more. Finally, it stopped and I lay spent on the desk, unable to move. Within the last half an hour, I had experienced the two strongest orgasms of my life, and I knew that there would be no way I could ever leave this man.

I must have fallen asleep in that position, because when I came to, my wrists had been unbound but my ass still felt...full. 

"Sir?" I said into the increasing darkness. I heard him pull the drapes closed. 

"I'm going to turn on the light," he said. "Keep your eyes closed for now."

I did as he said. I heard him flick on the office light.

"You're quite the sight, you lovely slut," he murmured.

I was confused and groggy...I knew I could feel something in my ass, but I also knew he was across the room at the light switch. 

"Reach back and see for yourself," he offered, apparently knowing exactly why I was confused.

I reached back and felt a kind of plastic plug fitted securely into my ass. Now I had every hole plugged but one. I was a little shocked and my lips fell open in surprise.

"Brace yourself against the desk," he said.

I did as he directed, wondering what was next. The butt plug jumped to life, its intense vibration making my mouth drop open and my eyes widen. I gasped. I turned and looked at him, and it was clear he was enjoying my surprise. His thumb clicked the button on a small black remote I hadn't seen before and the buzzing stopped. 

"Just think about how it will feel if I use both at once," he mused. "Now, please get dressed. Your punishment is going to begin soon." 

My punishment hadn't begun, yet? I couldn't fathom what was in store for me but I also knew that it was pointless to ask. I looked around for my panties and my jeans but I could only find the pants.

"Have you seen my panties, Sir?" I asked.

"Sluts aren't permitted to wear panties, just put on the jeans," he nonchalantly replied, in the same tone as one might politely inquire "what floor?" if you were in an elevator.

I stepped out of my red shoes and pulled the jeans on, glad that they were so fitted because they could help hold the vibrators in place. It still felt a little awkward to move with both vibrators in my holes. 

My large milky white breasts were also still hanging out of my red bra. I looked at my Master expectantly, wondering what he wanted me to do.

"You may wear the bra for now, if you wish," he said kindly.

I took the bra off and put it back on. I was too well endowed to walk around without one. Even with a coat on I would feel conspicuous. I found my blouse on the chair where I had tossed earlier and began to button it back up. I stepped back into the red high heels.

I looked at him and smiled nervously. "Where are we going, Sir?"

"I think I would like a tour of the campus," he suggested lightly. "How are you feeling?"

"I can't stop thinking about how my cunt and my ass are filled," I blurted out. "I have no idea how I'm going to sit down. And if you turn them on when we are out, someone will hear. And I'm incredibly thirsty!"

He gave me a wide smile and laughed. "I see," he said. "Thank you for being so honest with me. But no one will know that you're my cumslut unless you let them know. I'm sure we can remedy the last problem, undoubtedly caused by all your....fluid loss. Now let's go." 

I grabbed my keys and walked awkwardly to the door, still trying to adjust. I saw him smile as he watched me walk. I took a quick look at my watch and saw that evening classes would be well under way, so there shouldn't be too many people in hallways and corridors. 

"Where would you like to start?" I asked as we reached the door.

"Take me where you usually go on any given day. Let me see what my sub sees each day," he suggested.

"Okay..." I said. He pulled the door closed behind him as we made our way into the hallway. 

"I usually go get my mail at the department office..." I noted.

"Alright, then," he said good-naturedly, "Let's start there."

We walked toward the staircase, past the unisex washroom. He paused for a moment outside of the washroom door. "This will be our last stop,' he declared. I nodded without question. He knew about the unisex washroom because he had often directed me to masturbate in there during the day and then describe it to him on the phone at night. We continued to the staircase, which we began to descend in silence. 

Getting down the stairs was more uncomfortable than one might imagine. It didn't help that I felt incredibly self-conscious. 

Fortunately, I soon began to adjust. That didn't last, though, because as we traveled the tunnel to MacKenzie Hall, he turned on the lavender pussy vibrator. A small noise escaped my lips but I managed to keep walking. Once we reached the end of the tunnel, the buzzing in my cunt ceased. I let out a thankful sigh and stole at a look at my Master.

"Yes, I am enjoying this," he drawled, answering my unasked question. 

"You know, you're going to have to start wearing skirts more often," he advised. "These jeans are not useful for our purposes, although they do lovely things for your bum."

"Um, thank you, Sir," I said. I blushed a little from the compliment remembering how he had seen me bent over the desk, my pink pussy and my pale round ass stuffed with vibrators that could be turned on at his pleasure and whim.

As we walked the campus, he relaxed me by chatting amicably. Our walk was generally uneventful, and for that I was grateful. We even paused at a drink machine to buy bottles of water. However, there were few moments where I forgot my plugged holes and his power to send me into orbit with the click of a button.

At one point, we ran into a former student of mine. I exchanged brief pleasantries with the student, whose name was Ted. Ted wanted to chat, and I did not. When Ted looked curiously at my Master, I said that I was giving my friend a campus tour. Just when I had thought that I had managed to get us disentangled, I felt a sudden intense buzzing in my anus. 

"Is that your cell?" asked Ted. 

"Uh, yes," I answered. "It was nice to see you, we, uh, have to get going." Just then the pussy vibrator began. I wanted to moan but covered it with an awkward cough.

"That, um, must be your...your...phone," I stuttered, helplessly looking at my Master.

"Nope, not mine," he smiled broadly at Ted. "Yours?" he asked Ted. I could feel myself starting to build toward another orgasm. How on earth could I cum without making noise? Worse -- what if I came again without permission?

Ted looked confused. "Nope," he looked at me curiously. "Do you have two cell phones, professor?"

"I do," I answered, my voice strained. The buzzing stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief. I smiled at Ted. "I've got one phone for work and one for personal use. Voicemail must have got it. Anyway, it was nice to see you Ted. We should finish our tour."

With the dismissal, Ted walked away. Once he was out of view, I slumped against a nearby wall, excited and humiliated all at once.

"I think it's time that you showed me the washroom," my Master suggested.

"Yes, Sir...." I responded obediently.

"It's time you pleasure me, my little slut..."



To Sir With Lust Ch. 04



Author’s Note: This was another fantasy written in response to my phantom master’s command. He wanted me to take the dominant role so that I might understand how it felt to have the responsibility for a submissive’s pain . . . and pleasure.

~~~~~~~~~~

You hear the whistle of the riding crop just before it catches the tender flesh of your buttocks. With no time to brace yourself, you’re propelled forward one or two paces, but manage to keep your balance, in spite of the fact that your hands are firmly secured behind your back, causing you to adopt a hyper-erect posture. You stifle a moan, sensing that the slightest outcry will result in the crop raining even more blows on your sensitive skin. 

[What you have yet to realize, my sweet, is that it simply doesn’t matter. Tonight I will inflict pain simply because it pleases me. Your ability to perform or react will have no bearing on the punishment I’ll inflict. I do it simply because I can. Because it pleases me.] 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When you arrived at my apartment earlier tonight, you were dressed, as I had requested, in a navy blue pinstriped suit, white dress shirt, a necktie of crimson silk, navy blue socks and navy wingtips. The heavy gold rope chain I gave you at the holidays is around your neck, under your shirt. No underwear. When you asked about this last request, I merely smiled into the phone. “Oh, you’ll see,” I responded coyly. 

When you rang my doorbell, you were met by my slaves: one a deeply-tanned blonde, the other a fair-complected brunette. Both girls are tall, at six feet in height, and wearing 5-inch spiked heels, they look down at you. But the first thing you notice isn’t their height. Neither is it their contrasting coloring. Their near nakedness, however, does capture your attention. The corsets and the silk stockings which each of the girls is wearing, leaving their tits, asses and pussies exposed, enhances, rather than hides, their virtual nudity. 

“She’s waiting,” the brunette says, and turns and walks away. It takes a few seconds before it dawns on you that you are to follow her. Your eyes widen when you see the red welts decorating her backside, the unmistakable signs of a recent discipline session. Unable to take your eyes off of her rounded ass, you fall into step with her. The blonde follows. You feel your cock start to twitch as you wonder if she, too, bears red stripes on her derriere. You also wonder who put them there. 

Your escorts lead you into my den. It looks much the same as when you were here last. I’m sitting in an overstuffed leather chair, my feet propped up on the matching ottoman, a bored expression on my face, reading a book. You’ve seen me sitting in this chair dozens of times before. Tonight, though, there’s something different. Maybe it’s the red high-heeled patent leather boots that reach well above half of my thigh, the tops held in place by garters. Maybe it’s the red silk corset that I’m wearing, my nipples barely covered, pussy exposed. Maybe it’s my makeup, more dramatic than I usually wear. Maybe it’s the riding crop gripped in my right hand, which I rub idly against my pussy lips. Or maybe it’s the various toys I have spread over the coffee table next to my chair. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I look up at you briefly, without expression, then return my attention to my book. I continue reading for several minutes. The only sound in the room is that of the ticking grandfather clock in the foyer. When the clock finally strikes the hour, I close my book and place it on the coffee table, next to the assorted toys. 

I look at the Amazons flanking you. “Strip him,” I say quietly. 

The brunette helps you out of your suit coat, as politely as if she were your hostess at a dinner party. She then steps behind you, holding your upper arms, as the blonde unties your necktie and slings it over her shoulder. She rips open the front of your shirt, buttons spraying across the room. 

Her hands at your waist, the blonde unbuckles your belt and removes it, handing it to me. She then unfastens and unzips the trousers, letting them fall to your feet, your erection exposed. The blonde then kneels in front of you, pulling off your shoes, socks, and slacks while the brunette removes your shirt. 

At my nod, the brunette comes forward and retrieves the belt from me, then steps behind you again. You look rather startled as the leather belt is looped around your upper arms several times and then cinched tightly, causing your shoulders to be pulled back and your chest to be thrust forward. 

Your attention is suddenly focused on the blonde, who pulls your red silk tie from her shoulder. She and the brunette trade places, and your wrists are bound with the tie. The blonde lets the free end of the tie fall to the floor, and the brunette bends over and picks it up, pulling it between your legs, making sure that the silk is wedged between your ass cheeks, around your balls and just under your cock. Using the tie as a leash, the brunette leads you to my chair. 

Rising, the crop tucked under my left arm, I take the end of the silk tie in my left hand; I then take your chin in my right hand, holding it firmly. My face is just an inch away from yours, I’m looking into your eyes coldly as I speak. “I’ve brought you here to punish you; to make you pay for your extreme carelessness, your inexcusable rudeness.” The disdain is in marked contrast to the yielding warmth which you have become accustomed to hearing in my voice. “Don’t you think you owe me an apology?” 

“For what?” you ask, a puzzled look crossing your face, a look which quickly changes to one of surprised agony as the crop whistles through the air again, this time landing a stinging blow on the back of your left thigh. 

Your body jerks, instinctively leaning away from my right hand, as if to avoid further blows. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you ask. 

“Until you give me a specific apology for your egregious behavior, you will address me as ‘Madame’, do you understand?” 

“Yes, Babe--, ah, Madame. But apologize for what?” 

“You offend me and then ask why you should apologize? This is intolerable!” The tone of my voice is quiet, threatening, you have to strain to hear me. Your pulse is racing, your heart pounding. 

“Gabriella, bring the Waterford bowl to me.” The blonde comes forward with a crystal bowl filled with ice, on top of which are two gold clamps. 

“Suck his nipples, Gabriella. And make sure that he enjoys it.” The blonde bends over, her lips capturing one of your nipples between her lips and starts to suck it, gently at first, then with more vigor. You feel her tongue laving the sensitive nubbin of flesh, twirling, licking, sucking. In spite of yourself, you close your eyes and concentrate on the pleasure that my amazon beauty is giving you. It is at this precise moment that the blonde takes her mouth away from your hardened nipple and I allow the jaws of the freezing clamp to slowly close around it. 

Your eyes fly open at the pain, and you look at me, mute, wondering at the sudden change in my behavior. 

You feel Gabriella’s lips surround your other nipple. You try to resist, try not to respond to the delicious sensations as my toy teases your nipple, pulling at it with her lips, the tip of her tongue fluttering back and forth over the nipple, pinching it gently between her pursed lips, nibbling it, sucking it. 

I watch you relax and almost before the blonde can take her lips away from you, I let the icy clamp close over the second nipple as well. 

As you begin to cry out, I lean forward and kiss you gently, my fingers wrapping around your impossibly stiff erection. You pull back from me in surprise, not realizing how aroused you’ve become, in spite of yourself. Your eyes meet mine and I smile at you sweetly, moving my face closer to you for another kiss. 

Relaxing slightly, you lean toward me, and our lips meet in a searing kiss. Pleasure dissolves into pain when I start to twist the nipples which are being punished so cruelly by the clamps. 

“Are you ready to apologize?” I ask sweetly, ignoring your agonized expression. 

“I don’t understand, Ba--, Madame, what is it that I have done wrong?” 

You jump and nearly fall backward as I reach out and slap your erection. 

“What’s my name?” 

“Uh, Madame?”

“No, not my title. What ... is ... my ... name?” I ask, as if speaking to a very small child. 

“Candace?” 

“Correct. Now, apologize.” 

“I’m sorry Madame. Truly. Please forgive me.” 

“Forgive you for what?” I ask quietly. 

“I ... I’m not sure. But please forgive me.” 

“Unacceptable. Perhaps we need to work on your memory a little more. Olivia, use him for your amusement for awhile, won’t you?” 

“Yes, Madame,” responds the brunette. “Is there anything special you would like me to do?” she asks. 

“No, my dear,” I reply. “You know my tastes, I leave it to you to entertain me as you entertain yourself.” 

I sit down in the leather chair once again, my thighs parted. 

“Gabriella, my sweet pet, come here and help me relax.” 

The blonde comes to me quickly, and kneels between my thighs. I spread my legs a little wider--I want to make sure that you can see all of this. The blonde reaches up and frees my breasts from the corset and begins to caress them. I stretch luxuriously, feeling my nipples harden, feeling the little shocks of pleasure going off in my clit. I lower my eyelids, but I’m really looking at you, gauging your reaction to this little show. 

The blonde is asking me something, her voice soft, and you can’t quite hear her. Chuckling, I shake my head. The blonde repeats her question, you still can’t make out the words, but you hear the urgency in her voice. This time I nod, an indulgent expression on my face. The blonde smiles beatifically, and, as she continues to play with my tits, she lowers her face to my legs, and you can hear her as she begins to lick and kiss my thighs. 

You continue to watch, no longer aware of anything else in the room. Your eyes widen as you see the blonde’s open mouth close around the lips of my pussy. I start to buck against the girl’s face and you can see her lips, nose, chin and cheeks glisten in the light from the coating of my juices against her face. 

Your mouth is open, your breath is coming in short jagged bursts. I know what you’re thinking. 

“Do you want to trade places with my little toy?” I ask teasingly. 

Mute, you nod. 

“Then you must apologize.” 

Still mystified at my request, you remain silent rather than give an inappropriate answer and anger me further. 

You watch as the blonde spreads the lips of my flushed pussy with her fingers and begins to tongue fuck me. You can see the silvery strands formed by my secretions that stretch from my cunt to her tongue. Your mouth waters at the memory of my taste on your tongue, and you can smell the warm, musky fragrance as it wafts through the air. 

You’ve been concentrating so hard that you’ve forgotten all about Olivia. You paid no attention as she strolled over to the table displaying some of the toys from my collection. But she has resumed her place behind you and, without warning, pulls you back against her. You feel something cold and slick against your ass, and you realize that Olivia has chosen the strap-on dildo that you noticed on the table earlier. She teases you with it for a few minutes, allowing you to become accustomed to the feel of it, and then slowly starts to fuck you in the ass. You squirm and moan at the pain. 

“You can make it stop,” I tell you. “Just apologize.” 

You say nothing since you have no idea what you’ve done to anger me. 

You watch as the blonde inserts a pair of ben-wa balls into my pussy, then straddles me, rocking me back and forth as she starts to lick and suck my breasts. You see me bucking underneath her, my fingers playing with my clit. I look up at you, watching as the brunette violates your ass, I look at your raging hard-on, and I snap my fingers. Olivia immediately stops moving, the dildo still buried deep inside of you. She reaches around and applies gentle pressure to your cock, just where the head meets the shaft of your penis. Your erection immediately relaxes. She draws both hands up your chest, her fingers brushing against your nipples which are still being tormented by the little gold clamps. You jump at the sharp pain that courses through your body. 

Olivia pulls the dildo out of your ass, you’re surprised at the sudden feeling of emptiness. 

“I’m afraid that you won’t be allowed to come until you apologize.” 

“Apologize for WHAT?” you ask beseechingly. 

“Think about it. You’ll figure it out,” I reply. 

Meanwhile, you feel Olivia’s fingertips probing at your asshole, inserting something inside of you. It doesn’t hurt, but you wonder what it could be. 

Suddenly, Olivia is standing in front of you, connecting the cruel clamps with a chain. She then takes a one-pound weight and hangs it on the chain, pulling on your nipples. You moan aloud at the pain. 

You see me beckon to your tormentor. Your eyes widen as I hand her a long, wide paddle, one that’s obviously been well used for countless years. 

I smile at your expression. 

“This has been in my family for a long, long time. Olivia has learned to wield it like an expert, which is no surprise, considering how many times she’s been on the receiving end of this particular heirloom.”

Olivia resumes her place behind you. You tense, anticipating the first blow, but it doesn’t come. You begin to relax--and this is when the paddle strikes. Your body jerks forward, causing the weight to swing like a pendulum, tugging on your nipples. She strikes you again, on the other side of your ass, and you cry out at the pain this time. Olivia continues to paddle your ass, striking you at random intervals. You wish that she would at least develop a rhythm so that you could be prepared for the blows; it’s a futile wish. 

After several minutes, you realize that you’re once again sporting a raging hard-on. The more surprising realization is that you’re actually reaching backward with your ass, anticipating the next stinging slap of the paddle. The pain in your nipples and your buttocks is starting to give way to pleasure. 

You look across the room at me, Gabriella still intent on pleasuring me. My legs are now thrown over her shoulders, she’s begun to fuck my ass using a double-ended dildo, her hands stroking and pinching my nipples. And I’m watching you. I see the tears falling silently over your cheeks. You’re probably not even aware of them, but I suddenly crave the taste of that salty moisture on my tongue. 

“Olivia, that’s enough. If he could remember, he would have by now. Go get the e-mail from my desk.” 

The brunette leaves the room. The blonde continues to pleasure me. You watch us, wishing that you could either join or trade places with one of us, your erection swelling to impossible dimensions, and I quietly covet the pre-come that I see glistening at the head of your cock. 

The raven-haired submissive returns with a sheet of paper in her hand, and brings it to me. 

Reluctantly, I disengage myself from the blonde. My legs still spread, you see her reach into my pussy and remove the ben-wa balls. 

Standing I walk over to you. 

“I’ll ask again, what is my name?” 

“Candace?” you respond hesitatingly. 

“Are you certain?” I ask. 

“Yes, Madame.” 

I thrust the paper before you. “Then who the hell is Tricia?” I demand. 

“Tricia?” you respond. “What do you mean--” and you cut yourself off as you read the e-mail that you sent to me the night before: 

"Tricia, let me have a look at that," I say, not 

much louder than a whisper. I am given another 

look at your wicked smile and flashing eyes....”

The blush on your cheek is all the apology I need. 

“Candace--Madame--I--oh shit,” you stammer. 

I reach out and gently remove the nipple clamps. You wince as the circulation is restored. 

My slaves untie your wrists and remove the belt from your arms. 

At my nod, the blonde and the brunette sandwich you between their voluptuous bodies--blonde in front, brunette in back. You can still smell and taste the juices, my juices, clinging to the blonde’s face and tongue. You kiss her roughly, hungrily. Your hands find her breasts and start to squeeze them, pinching the nipples. 

The brunette has her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder, hands playing with your cock and balls. 

The blonde takes her face from yours and leans over to kiss the brunette. (Olivia, you see, has almost as large an appetite for my essence as you do.) At the same time, Gabriella takes your rod and guides it between her thighs, squeezing you. 

Your hands, one in front and one in back, find the cunts of both girls simultaneously and you start to masturbate them, your fingers coated with their fluid. 

I sit quietly in my chair, enjoying the little orgy taking place before me, biding my time, stroking my own hot pussy.

I watch as the girls slide down your body, my playmates on your left and right sides. They start licking and sucking you, one mouth on your cock and the other on your balls, both pairs of lips slurping over your dick, stopping from time to time to kiss each other, tongues probing deeply into each other’s mouths, hands and fingers playing with tits and pussies. 

The erotic action comes to a sudden halt, however, with a single snap of my fingers. Startled, the girls look up at me. At my nod, they guide you to the down-filled sofa, help you lie down, position a pillow under your head and leave the room, without a sound, without a backward glance. 

I walk over to you. Reaching down, I stroke your face. You start to flinch, and then relax. 

I straddle you, swinging one leg over your body, my knees on either side of your hips. I start to lower myself onto your tool then think better of it and start to stroke my pussy while I’m poised right above your cock, the backs of my fingers brushing against the head of your cock as I withdrawn them from my steaming box. 

Finally, I take you. I impale myself on your meaty cock, grinding against you as I start to fuck myself, raising and lowering myself on your fuck-pole. Your hands grab my breasts, massaging them, pinching and twisting my nipples as our crotches grind against each other. 

Sitting up, you wrap your arms around me and lower your mouth onto mine in a deep, passionate kiss. I lick and suck on your tongue the same way that I’ve licked and sucked your cock so many times before. 

Leaning against me, you push me down on the sofa, laying on top of me. Holding me down by my shoulders, you start to fuck me in earnest, ramming your erection into me roughly, grunting in your efforts, causing me to gasp as the wind is forced out of me. 

I know that you’re nearing the edge. I fuck you in return, my breasts shaking with the force of my efforts. Your sweat is rolling off of your body, bathing me. 

I feel my own orgasm approaching. My legs stiffen, I feel the churning in my belly slow down and deepen, then rise. My breath is ragged, I can barely breathe, and as I look into your eyes I see them glaze over while your body stiffens for just a few seconds. 

It is at that precise moment that my fingers encounter the little wooden handle dangling from your ass. I pull on it, a slow, controlled motion, and hear you bellow as the string of Thai love beads is expelled from your ass, one at a time, the unexpected sensation causing you to explode inside of me as you climax. 

Finally, your orgasm subsides and you collapse on top of me, spent, sated, breathless. 

And at last, we sleep ...



To Sir with Lust Ch. 04



We walked back to the building that housed my office. His hand was pressed lightly into the small of my back. The touch was sensuous; it was gentle, yet dominant, and a warm reminder of his presence beside me.

When we arrived at the building, a security guard was exiting. He recognized me because I often work late. He held open the door for us to enter.

"I've locked up the building but you'll be able to get out as always. Have a nice evening," the guard said. I smiled and thanked him. Master and I walked up the stairs, the sexual tension between us growing with each step. I wondered how he wanted me to pleasure him. The building was silent; I guessed that there was no one in the locked building but us – unless someone else was working late.

We reached my floor and stood outside the unisex washroom door. My excitement and nervousness got the better of me again, and my hands shook a little as I unlocked the door. We stepped inside and I flicked on the florescent lights while he locked the turn bolt, ensuring that we wouldn't have any unexpected visitors.

The washroom was large – it was an old dormitory washroom that had never been converted. It housed a shower, a few stalls and three sinks. On one wall there were three full-length mirrors.

"Kneel," he said.

I knelt down on the blue and green tiled floor and looked up at him expectantly. 

"Place your hands behind your back," he commanded.

I did as he said and waited. He pulled two silk scarves from his right pant pocket – one of which he had probably used earlier to bind my wrists before he spanked me. He stepped behind me, binding my wrists with one scarf and blindfolding me with the other.

"Open your mouth," he demanded.

I opened my mouth in a round "O" and waited. I heard him walk back toward the door and unlock the bolt. Anyone with a key to the building – like the security guard we had passed on the way in – could enter. I felt panic rise in me but I remained where I was, bound and kneeling on the floor. 

I heard him walk forward and he leaned down and unbuttoned my blouse, pushing the fabric to the side so that he could again see my transparent red bra. My nipples hardened in response to the rush of cool air. He ran his thumb over my taunt left nipple and I inhaled sharply but I remembered to keep my mouth open and round.

The vibrator in my pussy jumped to life. Moans uncontrollably escaped my red lips. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.

"Tell me what you want," he ordered.

"I wish to please you, Sir," I answered.

"How?" he asked.

"Anyway you would like," I responded without pause. Silence filled the air. I had remembered too late. 

"Er, Sir," I added. 

I felt him step around me and then a sharp thwack on my bottom.

"Anyway you would like, Sir," I repeated, heat spreading across my ass cheeks.

"Good girl," he said. "Do you want to suck my cock?"

"Yes, Sir," I answered simply.

"That's not very compelling, my little sub. Beg me."

"Please, Sir, please let me suck your cock." I begged. "Please...honor me by letting me pleasure you with my mouth. Please...use my mouth – my body – as you wish. Fuck my mouth, Sir. Please fuck my mouth. Use me. Please. Please." My voice was earnest. I felt embarrassed saying such things, though it was made so much easier with the blindfold. At the same time though, I longed to look at his face so I could see if I was pleasing him with my words. Once I finished speaking I obediently formed my mouth back into an "O."

"Well, alright, then..." he said. I heard him unbuckle his belt and the sound of a zipper. I heard the rustle of his pants sliding to the floor. I heard him step forward and felt him tease my lips by tracing their outline with his cock. 

"I'm waiting for my whore to begin," he said.

With that, my pink tongue darted out and licked his cock from base to tip. He was incredibly hard and I ached to have him fuck my pussy. Once I reached the tip of his head, I swirled my tongue around, tasting pre-cum that had dried there. I licked his cock with the flat of my tongue, being sure to tease the sensitive spot just below the head. I twisted my head and sucked one very full ball into my mouth, and then the other. He moaned with pleasure. I momentarily wished my hands were free so that I could have worked his cock with my hands while I sucked his balls. Yet, it was delicious to be bound and serving him.

"Ahhh....yes...so good..." he murmured, his hands petting my hair.

I moved back up and wrapped my lips around his shaft and then plunged down on his cock, fucking his shaft with my small hot wet mouth. 

"Fuck, yes," I heard him say. He gripped my head and began to fuck my mouth hard and fast. I tried to take him as deep as I could, but he pushed right to the back and I fought the urge to gag.

"Ohhhh...your mouth feels good, you beautiful fucktoy. You are my whore, never forget that."

I felt his cock throb and swell in my mouth and I sucked him hard and hungrily, enjoying the thought that he was using my mouth while my other two holes were plugged at his pleasure. Suddenly he pulled free of my mouth – just at the moment I was waiting to drink cum from his cock.

He came, spewing his milky gift over my face and hair. I felt some splash onto my forehead and a dollop dribbled down my hair onto my right shoulder. It soaked through my blouse. He wiped what remained on his cock directly into my hair.

I heard him step back – I suppose to admire his work. I heard a buckle clink on the floor and then a shuffle as he pulled his pants back up. He stepped behind me and told me to stand but was kind enough to help me up. He turned me and then removed my blindfold. I was facing the wall of mirrors. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see his cum hanging from my hair and the white glob soaking into my blouse. He kissed the back of my neck.

"Thank you, Master," I said, looking at him in the mirror.

"Thank you," he replied with a smile. "You please me greatly, my beautiful slut. But we're not done yet."

Then he unbound my wrists and pushed me forward toward the wall of mirrors. 

"Slide your jeans down and brace yourself against the wall," he said, smiling broadly.

I slid my jeans down and braced myself against the wall as he had ordered. I looked at my fingers spayed out against the mirrors. He carefully and slowly removed the butt plug from my ass. I worried for a moment that he might make me lick it, but then he placed it in one of the sinks.

He massaged my round bottom with both hands, teasing my tender skin with his fingers. He reached underneath and rubbed my clit and I closed my eyes. His fingers slid along my pussy lips and I knew he had discovered how wet I was as a result of sucking him. 

Then, I felt another hard spank, as terse and as controlled as the one I had received moments before. I gasped and my eyes opened wide. Another thwack came quickly, and then another. Some were light whispers against my flesh, others sharp, tense and euphoric. All the while I watched his face in the mirror, my eyes on his, watching him watching me. I wondered how red my bottom had become. He paused and stepped back.

In the mirror, I watched him pull his belt free from the loops on his pants, and I realized what was next. His eyes met mine in the mirror.

"Ready?" he asked, waiting.

I hesitated. "I'm not sure," I said.

He didn't look impatient or frustrated. Instead he said, "You wanted a proper spanking, did you not?"

"Yes," I replied, looking down at the floor.

"Is that you still what you want?" he asked.

I paused. Heat flushed my face. He would never allow me to hide, which was part of the beauty of our relationship, part of why I loved him, but also sometimes why I had the urge to run. It can be so hard to have another see you exactly as you are, without guises or subterfuge.

"Yes, Sir, you know it is," I said, my voice a contradictory mix of defiance and humiliation.

"Ask for it, then," he demanded.

I had trouble getting the words out; saying them made me naked. It did not matter that I was in a bathroom at work, my jeans at my ankles, my panties long gone, my blouse spread wide open exposing my breasts. It was the words, not the flesh that mattered. He knew it. I knew it too well.

I looked away. "Please spank me with the belt," I said, trying to mask my deep embarrassment by using a matter-of-fact tone. No response. I met his eyes in the mirror. "Please," I said, feeling like I was on the verge of crying.

With that the black leather splashed across my ass. The pain was intense but wonderful. It was all that existed, an intoxicating high like I have never experienced before. Between each lashing, the sound of my heaving breath filled the room. I would moan or cry out when the leather met my flesh, but I loved every moment of it. I seemed to come right out of my body. Then I realized I was about to cum again.

"Master, may I cum?" I breathed out, raggedly.

"Yes, my whore," he said. There was a zip sound and a rustle of fabric.

With the next lash, an orgasm shook my body. Once more the belt lapped at my skin like a lover's tongue and then I felt my master's hand slide across my pussy lips, coating his fingers and upturned palm with sex juice. 

A second later his cock pressed against my anus, lubed by the liquid desire that seemed to come endlessly from my cunt. The vibrator in my pussy buzzed alive and world seemed to swirl around me. He plunged his cock into me, gaining entry more easily since my asshole had been stretched by the butt plug he had playfully tortured me with earlier, but my ass was still tight. He thrust his shaft in and out of me as I continued to come. 

The intensity of the sensations made me feel like I might pass out, but instead I came with a torrent of screams. Dizzily, as one orgasm would end, another would come mere seconds later. Realizing how weak I was becoming, my legs shaking endlessly, Master pushed me toward one of the sinks – something I could hold on to better than the wall.

He leaned over me, his right hand gripping my hair. He whispered sweetly into my ear, his voice warm but his words filthy. He described fucking my ass, how it felt, what it made me, what it made him. It was there, while I clutched the white porcelain sink, that he came in me, spewing cum into my ass over and over. I came one last time, my body celebrating his possession of me.

***

So that was the moment, Sir. The moment I woke from this delicious dream, my body pulsing in pleasure with only one thought: You. I ran from our connection because I didn't know what else to do. But I will always love You. And I will always be Yours.

Sincerely Your sub,

TB