0 comments/ 12146 views/ 2 favorites Don't Speak By: Tarnishe Since Lena had arrived she was all Jameson thought about and she pounded in his mind morning noon and night. He could barely believe his eyes when he first met her; he actually did a double take. He looked, said ‘hi’ and looked away, then looked back and his jaw dropped. He hated staring but he had, just as he was, right now, while he thought about how much it bothered him the first time. He couldn’t help staring; but he couldn’t stand to look at anything else when she was around, she was just that beautiful. He sat staring at her face with her full, rose-pink lips, sharp, chiseled features and remarkably high cheekbones --that along with her thick eyelashes darkened her eyes in an enchanting and mysterious way-- and at her slight, delicate frame, her long legs and stunning butt, her perfectly curved hips, her small shapely breasts and her long, brown, gossamer hair. Lena got up and walked across the room as she passed him she turned and noticed he was looking at her. She smiled to him. Her smile made a light in his heart so bright that it would probably have shone out if he’d opened him mouth at that moment. His feelings were vocalized in a deep sigh and he closed his eyes long enough to not notice when she walked over to him. He only noticed when she sat down. He was a little bit stunned but made a quick recovery and tried to speak. “Hi, Le--” She stopped him with her index finger on his lips and stunned him again by starring at him in a way that reminded him of how he had been starring at her. It took him a considerably longer amount of time to recover this time and when he did she was still starring at him and he understood it was her intention to keep him from speaking. Their eyes spoke for a short while and then she got up, took him by the hand and started leading him somewhere. As they passed through the party he noticed a few turned heads because of the speed at which she was pulling him along. She took him into a dark room and closed the door behind them. She reached over his shoulder and barely nudged the dimmer for the lights and two lamps illuminated on either side of a large bed with a faint, orange glow not bright enough to reach the corners of the room. When he noticed she had taken him to a bedroom he started to say something again but this time she silenced him with a passionate kiss. He forgot what he was about to say. In returning the kiss he realized he didn’t really want to resist and so he got involved, finally realizing his most beloved fantasy. He released his tongue into her mouth and brought his hands up to touch her face - which had skin smoother than he had imagined. Jameson could not believe he was actually kissing Lena; he tried to figure out if it was some kind of lucid dream. Lena took away that worry of his when she made it feel more like the beginning of a wet dream. Her hand went to his crotch, clutched him and started stroking. He moaned into her mouth and then he trailed his lips away from hers to move to her ear and began to nibble while one hand lowered to her breast. She put her hands behind her back and undid a fasten on the back of her dress; it dropped off leaving her in only panties. He marveled at the sight, her skin all smooth and tanned everywhere. Her toned legs, her flat stomach and pert breasts (which hadn’t been in a bra but clearly supported themselves) with evidently hardened nipples. She pulled her hands up to Jameson’s chest and started to unbutton his shirt and untie his tie. After she’d done that she started to release his pants. It was obvious that she was trying to do two things at once and was succeeding. As she pulled on his belt and zipper her palms were rubbing pleasurably over what lay beneath. Once his pants were out of the way all that remained were his boxers, which had become a tent of sorts. She kneeled and a rush went through his veins as he watched. She grabbed the waistband and slid his boxers off. He liked the look in her eyes, notably pleased at the sight of his immensely erect member. She wrapped her hand around it and a muscle that Jameson didn’t know he was tensing relaxed. The feeling of her soft hand sliding along his shaft and her breath tickling him brushed away the last thoughts in his mind. He was thinking of nothing but Lena now. She got up and smiled at him. She took his hand with her hand that wasn’t full and brought him to the bed. She motioned and he sat down. Lena knelt again, and he felt another rush. She licked him right on his tip and moved her head to kiss him, starting just below the head and working her way down. Then she put her lips around his member and started to take him into her mouth, sliding all the way down to its base. She rested her palms on his hips and started to move her head slowly up and down. Jameson shuddered at the sensation of her lips gliding over him and her tongue slipping all around his shaft. He groaned and started to moan her name but as soon as he did he felt her teeth in a rather uncomfortable manner. He remembered and took note that she certainly didn’t want him talking. Lena continued her task. Tightening her mouth around his cock, she applied more suction. She pulled her head back almost tugging on him as she moved away, and when he was fully out of her mouth her tongue came out. Gently maneuvering his column with just the tips of her fingers she caressed him with firm, steady licks. Jameson felt himself growing close to getting off so he used some body language to get her to stop. She licked his hand mockingly and giggled, but she did stop. They stood and both crawled onto the bed. Brushing a bit of hair off her face, he kissed her. He only took a short time before his kisses began to move downward, over her jaw, down her neck, past her collarbone. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and her hands came quickly to rest on his head. She breathed deeply as he tongued her nipple and took her other breast in his hand, a perfect handful. Massaging and pinching one, suckling on the other he had her squirming beneath him and her breath was coming faster now. He thought to himself how either her breasts would have to be unusually sensitive or she would have to be very, very much aroused already. Because her nipples were as hard as he suspected they could get. She pursed her lips in an “Ooh” shape and breathed deeply through it. He moved slowly away from her breasts, tracing a line down across her torso with the tip of his tongue. He reached the edge of her panties, the only article of clothing left between the two of them. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them off. He started to return from the bottoms of her legs, sliding his hands on her skin and kissing along as he went. He reached the juncture of her legs and placed a kiss on her mons. A few more kisses on the fine curls there, with the last of which his tongue escaped his mouth and moved between her lips. She moaned quietly. Jameson moved his tongue up and down in the valley there, savoring the taste of the juices then he moved his tongue with a purpose. He moved upwards slowly towards the hooded nub of her clit. As he got closer he moved even slower until he had stopped just below it. Lena had her eyes closed tightly and was panting in anticipation. His tongue move slightly away and then back to its original position of just out of reach and she lost her patience. She lifted her hips to make the contact and the tip of his tongue brushed smoothly on the bottom of her clit. She groaned and edged closely to her climax from that one touch. So sweet after the wait, like water in a desert. After she had brought his teasing to an end he decided to let go and he began to move his mouth in a flurry. Lips and tongue moving in any direction they could, rubbing or flicking against her clit and the surrounding area. Lena felt as though her whole body was being tossed about the way she was at her crux. She was whimpering at the sensations and breathing hard with her fingers at her nipples, rubbing and pulling. Jameson moved his hand inward from its resting place on her thigh and positioned it below his chin. He started to mimic the motions of his mouth with his hand, fondling and tickling her lips, occasionally slipping just the tip of his finger inside of her. That was something Lena wanted more of. She shifted her hips towards his hand and when he wasn’t responding she tried to tell him ‘more’ but she didn’t get past the ‘M’. He took the advantage to turn her game against her. He stopped his motions and put a finger across his lips, making a shhh sound. The sudden stop in his actions definitely got her attention and she didn’t finish her words. He gave her a wide smile and she smiled back weakly, obviously defeated. Lena’s request was realized though and when Jameson started up again his finger found it’s way steadily between her lips and up in to her. He slid in almost his entire finger after an amount of time Lena could only define as too long and then waited there for a short moment also stopping the movement of his mouth. Time stood for a minute. Then he started to pull back on his finger. It was moving much faster now and soon he reversed direction, plunging back into her wetness. This became a smooth rhythm. Shortly his mouth joined in once again, resuming its dance over her more northern regions. Panting built in Lena’s lungs and she felt body getting warm and tense, there was a coil tightening inside of her. Jameson slipped another finger along side the first and continued the rhythm with both. His second finger drove her wild and the tension that was rising in her finally began to release. Colours burst in the backs of her eyes and she bit her lip as she quivered with orgasmic pleasure. She gripped his head tightly and pushed his busy face hard into her crotch to prolong the feelings as long as she could. Jameson crawled up next to her and kissed her. She could taste a hint of herself on his mouth. He stared into her eyes for some time before bravely attempting to speak. “Can I talk now?” He requested with a mischievous grin. “Sure” But he had nothing to say any longer. Don't Speak Penny was feeling a bit down – she'd broken up with her boyfriend, Jamie, two weeks ago. He'd been receiving explicit photos from other women via his phone. Penny was hurt, she'd loved Jamie, and didn't understand what the matter was – why did Jamie need other women? So she was down, sitting in her flat, reading a book, trying to keep her mind off Jamie. Getting absorbed in her book, Penny was startled to hear a knock on her door. When she answered it, there was Jamie... who pushed his way into the flat, backing Penny against the wall and kissing her. Penny was a bit startled, but she'd wished that Jamie would come back so they could talk it through... but this wasn't talking. She tried to push him away, but at 6'2, Jamie was considerably stronger than Penny with her cuddly build. Meanwhile, Jamie's hand were seeking her wrists. When he had both wrists, he pinned her hands together, then shut the door of the flat. Still kissing her hard, with his tongue hot in her mouth, Jamie pushed Penny back into the lounge room of the flat. He now had both of her wrists in one of his hands, and he reached into the backpack he was carrying and removed a roll of packing tape. Pushing Penny against the wall to keep her still, his mouth still covering hers, he pulled her hands over her head, and then taped the wrists together. Jamie reached up and twined one hand in Penny's hair, the other was busy at the fly of his jeans, undoing his belt, pushing his jeans to the floor. Stepping out of his pants, Jamie suddenly backed away, pushing Penny down to kneel in front of him. "Get your mouth around my hard cock" he growled, feeding it into Penny's mouth. "Suck me off, get your tongue working on my hard, hot cock. I was to cum in your hot mouth." Penny had no choice – his hand was holding her hair too tight for her to protest. Her head bobbed backwards and forwards, as she licked and sucked his hard cock into her mouth. Jamie was enjoying the power he had over Penny – she was a good little cocksucker, and he'd missed that the last couple of weeks. But she also had other talents. "Take it deep now" he commanded. "Take it deep into that hot little mouth of yours, take it down your throat. I want to feel my balls slap onto your chin." Penny was getting hot and wet, her tongue working on Jamie's hard cock. Just the feeling of helplessness was turning her on. Jamie forced his cock further into Penny's mouth. She gagged a bit, but opened her throat as wide as she could and felt Jamie's hot cock hit the back of her throat. "Ooooh, that's good. You suck my cock so well. I know you love to suck cock, because you're such a little slut for cum." Still he wanted more, though. "Alright baby, I want you to rim my arse for me. That's it, put your tongue down between my thighs, lick my arse hole. Mmmmmm. That's it, lick it good. Stick your tongue in there, good girl. Now suck my balls. Good little slut. I might reward you later," he promised with a wicked smile. Penny got even wetter just thinking what that would be. "But just now I want you to suck my cock again. That's it" and he forced his hard cock back into Penny's mouth. Grabbing her head with both hands, he started to fuck her mouth hard, forcing his cock deeper and deeper into her throat with every thrust. "That's good, little cum slut, drink it deep. Want me to cum in your mouth?" Jamie thrust even harder, his balls building up the pressure, and then he came violently into Penny's mouth. "Oh God, that's so good!! You suck cock so well." Penny's mouth was filled with hot sticky cum, and as Jamie didn't let up on her hair, she was forced to swallow it all. When he'd finished cumming, Jamie pulled Penny up by the hair, 'til she was standing. She opened her mouth to protest the rough treatment, or at least demand an explanation. However, pushing her back against the wall, Jamie put his hand roughly over her mouth. "Not a word, slut. Not a single word." Stepping closer, Jamie undid Penny's jeans, pushing them down to her ankles. He cupped his hand over her pussy, feeling the juices. "Hmmmm. Got you all wet, didn't it, sucking my hard cock? I might let you do that again, later. In the meantime..." Jamie pushed Penny's wet panties down to her ankles, stepping on them to get them off. With his foot, he kicked the panties up, then quickly grabbed them mid-air, so he didn't have to remove his hand from Penny's mouth. He brought the wet panties to his nose. "Hmmmmmm. Smells good. Smells like you're all hot and wet and ready for some action. Good." He wadded the panties up, slipped his hand aside and shoved them hard into Penny's mouth. She could taste and smell her own wetness on them, although she still had the taste of Jamie's cum in her mouth and throat. "That's good" said Jamie. Then he grabbed the roll of packing tape, and taped her mouth shut over the panties. Penny was getting even hotter thinking about what Jamie would do to her now. She was helpless and vulnerable, and completely unable to protest. Unfortunately, this meant that the safe word that she and Jamie had agreed on whilst together also couldn't be used. She'd have no way to stop him, no matter what he did to her. Jamie stood back to appreciate his handiwork. Smirking, he said "well, that t-shirt and bra have to go next" and he lifted them over Penny's head. As her hands were still taped together, he couldn't take the clothes completely off, so he left them dangling over her wrists. "That's okay, they won't interfere with what we're going to do" He ducked his head down and started to lick her nipples, then gently bit them, then not quite so gently. Soon his teeth were tweaking one nipple, then the other. They were hard and swollen, and aching. Her pussy was also aching, but Jamie showed no inclination to satisfy that need just yet. Straightening, Jamie led Penny over to the back of the lounge chair. "Okay my little cum slut, I want you to bend over this chair, and put your head on the cushion. I want your pussy in the air, that's it... put your hands over your head, to dangle on the floor, yes, that's it." Jamie prodded each ankle until it was close to a leg of the chair, and then taped Penny's ankles to the chair. Around at the front of the chair, he tied some string to one leg of the chair at the front, through her wrists and then tied it to the other chair leg. She was spread, over the chair, naked and vulnerable, with her pussy in the air, and her legs spread wide. Her pussy, hot and wet and aching, was now open for Jamie to do whatever he liked with. "Well now my dirty little slut. What can I do with you?" Into that backpack again, Jamie removed a riding crop. "I think I'll beat you. What do you think? Have you been bad?" Penny shook her head, whimpering through the gag. "Have you been good, do you think?" Penny nodded. "I don't think you sucked my cock long enough. I think you could've sucked it harder. Next time you'll suck it harder, won't you?" and he brought the whip down onto her backside. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to sting. Crying now, tears dripping down her face, crying into the gag, Penny tried to get away from the riding crop, but she was tied too securely. Jamie had done his work well. Then after the fifth sting, Penny felt Jamie run his finger up her wet slit. Her pussy was still hot and wet, aching to be fucked hard, wanting that hard cock inside her. Sting! with the whip, then the finger was plunged into her pussy, making her jump. The finger was removed and the whip came down again. Again, the finger was thrust into her pussy, and removed. Whip, then finger thrust... Then two fingers, and then three. Alternately being fucked by Jamie's fingers and whipped, poor Penny was crying and writhing, trying to get her pleasure. But Jamie wasn't finished. He removed his fingers and knelt behind Penny. "You want my tongue here?" he asked. He couldn't see any response, but licked up Penny's wet slit. Her clit was throbbing and Jamie thought it looked perfect for a light sting with the whip. Helplessly, Penny was alternately licked and lightly stung, her pussy getting wetter and wetter with this treatment, her clit throbbing. She was whimpering and begging into the gag. Jamie thought this had gone on long enough. He stood. "I remember your toy box being in here" he said as he walked to the bedroom. He found Penny's vibrator and brought it to the chair. Playing his fingers through her dripping pussy, he coated the vibrator with juice. Penny couldn't see what he had, but she could guess, and was waiting – she couldn't move, she was tied too tightly. "Want this?" Jamie asked. Without waiting for any muffled answer, he plunged the vibrator into Penny's tight wet pussy as far as it would go. Penny jumped with surprise, but then bucked her hips back, to get more. Switching on the vibrator, Jamie fucked Penny with it, telling her how hard he was getting, just watching her fuck this hard little machine. Penny couldn't move much, but she did try to get as much of that vibrator as possible. She desperately wanted to cum, she needed to, had wanted to ever since being forced to suck Jamie's hard cock. Now he was forcing her to fuck this machine, hard and impersonal, thrusting hard and deep into her bruised pussy. Just as she started to build up to her orgasm, Jamie slowed down, and pulled the vibrator out! "Nah, not that easy, little slut, not that easy." With his fingers, he played a bit more in her dripping pussy, and coated his now-hard again cock with more of her juice. "Can you guess where I'm going to put my hot hard cock, slut? Can you guess where I'm going to fuck you now?" Jamie taunted. "That's right. You wouldn't ever let me fuck your arse, you always said no. Now you aren't saying no, are you? Now you're begging for my cock, through the taste of your own juice and my hot cum in your mouth. You're begging me to fuck you, aren't you? Well I am. Right in the arse. And you're going to love it." His slick coated fingers prodded against her tight hole. She clenched – she didn't want anything there, afraid it would hurt. Jamie was implacable, he meant to fuck her arse, and she wasn't going to get a choice in that. He pushed his finger slowly into her tight little hole, gently spreading it wider. Then he added a second finger, wiggling it around, widening her arse a bit more. Then he couldn't stop himself any longer – he brought his cock head to the hole and pushed it in. Slick with her pussy juices, it slid in 'til it reached the tight point. He pulled out, and pushed in again slowly. "Little slut, stop clenching. You're only going to make this harder on yourself." The, pulling back, he rammed his cock home into her arse and just stood for a bit, savouring the feeling of his hard cock deep in her rectum, and the sound of her scream through the gag as he did it. She was crying again now – he savoured her helplessness and his power over her, he could do whatever he wanted to her, she wouldn't – couldn't tell him to stop. However, this could be fun for both of them. He reached back under and re-inserted the vibrator into her still-wet pussy. Then, keeping both in time, he began to fuck her in both her tight little holes. Penny couldn't believe that Jamie was fucking her in both holes – couldn't believe he had his hard cock deep in her anus. She felt violated, helpless and at the same time incredibly turned on. How could he have known the pleasure she was getting, knowing that she was a helpless sex toy for him to take in any way that gave him pleasure? Now as he continued fucking her hard and deep in both her anus and her pussy, she started to get really turned on. She loved that feeling of being stretched, of taking more than she thought she could. She loved being reamed, and that little bit of pain that went with it just made the pleasure even more. Her tears dried and she started to push back against his hips. "That's it! I knew you'd love it when I fucked you like this." She couldn't move, so it was easy for him to thrust harder and plunge even deeper into her helpless body. He had to be bruising her pussy, but she was whimpering with pleasure through the gag now, so close to cumming. "Want to cum? Want to cum on my hard cock? Hmmm?" Jamie was very close to cumming again himself. Her arse was tight, and her pussy was dripping its juices onto his hand. He worked one of his fingers against her clit now, still fucking hard and deep. "Cum, slut. I'm gonna fill your arse full of cum, I know you want it" Penny was writhing, trying to get that orgasm, she wanted to cum, she was getting so much pleasure from this double fucking, she just wanted to cum and cum. Jamie started fucking even harder, slamming into her helpless body, rocking her forward. "If you really get off on this, I'll invite some friends over and we can do it right, hey? How would you like that, slut? One cock in your pussy, one in your arse and one in your mouth. You could service us all 'til you were full of cum in every hole." It was too much. The image of being fucked in both holes and sucking a hard cock 'til it came in her mouth was enough to send her over the edge. Penny came so hard and so long she started to get dizzy. Penny's orgasm was just what Jamie needed. He thrust hard into her, then stiffened, his cock gushing hot sticky cum into her sweet arse. After he'd softened and pulled out, cum dribbling down and mixing with her pussy juices, Jamie went around the chair and loosened the string holding her hands to the front of the chair. Slowly he helped Penny stand, holding her until she was steady. The he cut the tape holding her ankles to the chair, and led her into the kitchen. He laid her down on the table, spread her legs, and took a seat between them. Leaning forward, he started to lick the juice out of her pussy. Quickly she started to moan again, putting her bound hands onto his head to keep him there if she could. Jamie licked Penny's wet slit, concentrating on the clit, licking it until it was again throbbing with need. Penny was again near to fainting, this was amazing. Jamie had always been good at licking her pussy, and now she was going to cum again from it. Jamie kept his hands on the insides of Penny's thighs, keeping them apart, while he licked at that hot wet slit. He dipped his head lower and rimmed Penny's newly reamed arse, eliciting a groan from behind the gag. Grinning, he brought his tongue to bear on her clit again – sucking and biting and nibbling it, 'til Penny was bucking and thrashing and crying out to cum. With a huge heave, she bucked her hips up to his mouth and kept them there, while she pulsed and came and came and came. When the shockwaves had abated, Jamie once again helped Penny up. He led her back into the lounge, and sat on one of the chairs. He pulled Penny to her knees in front of him. "My cock needs cleaning, and you're just the slut to do it" he said. Reaching out, he ripped the tape from Penny's mouth. Tears sprang to her eyes. "That's good, you've cried a bit today, and I've enjoyed every tear" said Jamie. Let me just take those panties out, and you can replace them with my cock." Jamie violently pulled the panties out, and Penny barely had time to swallow against the dryness in her mouth before he forced her head down onto his now swelling cock. "Get sucking, I want that clean before I leave here" he said. His hands were in her hair again, so she had little choice. She sucked his cock deep into her mouth, tasting her own pussy juice and a sharp bitter taste that she assumed must be her anus. "That's it, slut, get licking, suck me hard, get it into your throat." As she bent to the task of sucking and licking his cock clean, Penny found, again, that she was becoming aroused by the helplessness of her situation. Her pussy was getting wet again. Jamie began to suspect this, and when he was about to cum, he pulled his cock out of Penny's mouth, and pushed her hard down onto the floor. Putting his hand over her mouth, he rammed his cock deep into her bruised pussy. Deep and hard he thrust, pulling himself up, Jamie brought Penny's legs up, over his shoulders, and thrust even deeper and harder, hurting her with the strength of his fucking. She was wincing, but wanting him deeper and harder, really loving the feeling of him punishing her with his cock. He thrust even harder, then stiffened and came again, gushing into her pussy, filling her with his hot cum. He dropped onto her, then rolled sideways, his hand dropping from her mouth and onto her wet pussy. "You want to cum?" he asked. She nodded, not able to speak yet. He played with her clit, telling her all about the two other guys he wanted to bring in, telling her about how big their cocks were, and how hard, and how she'd be fucking them all night, until she was too sore to sit down. She came hard, thinking about that possibility. While they'd been together, she'd never have thought Jamie would bring two mates over to fuck her, but since today, when she'd been tied and forced to suck his cock, and then fucked hard in the arse... well, she didn't know whether he'd do it or not. She looked up at him, vulnerable, unsure... he just smiled. "I had to keep your mouth covered. You couldn't tell me to stop if you couldn't speak" Jamie explained. "So what does this all mean?" asked Penny. "It means we need to talk," replied Jamie. Don't Speak "I mean it," Lori said, gesturing slightly to emphasize the gun in her hand. "Say one word, just one, and I swear to God, I'm putting a bullet right between your eyes." Thankfully, Derek didn't say anything. Lori was so scared she wasn't sure if she was bluffing or not, but she didn't want to find out whether or not she could pull the trigger. Derek didn't force the issue, but he didn't seem worried, either. He just stood there, looking at her impassively. A little too impassively, to be honest. The way he stared at her...it was like she didn't have the gun at all, like she was just a crazy girl who'd wandered into his office. He just kept looking at her with perhaps the tiniest hint of disdain in his eyes. Lori reached behind her and locked the door. "There," she said, hoping she sounded tough and suave, like Dirty Harry or something. "Now we can have a nice private chat." She gestured slightly with the gun. "Have a seat." Still without any sign of a crack in that unnerving calm, Derek sat down in his executive chair. "I know I was scheduled to report to you for 'special training' tomorrow, but I thought I'd just jump the gun a bit..." She realized the unintentional pun, and caught herself in a hysterical giggle. Derek didn't say anything, but he did raise an eyebrow for a moment. Then he lowered it again. He leaned back in his chair, looking for all the world like he had the upper hand. Lori realized her hand was shaking a little, the gun slick and sweaty in her grip. It felt heavy, heavier than she'd thought it would. This was her first time holding a gun, and she hoped it would be her last. "I thought it'd be a good idea to talk to you privately before starting your 'special training', Derek, because I can't help but notice that the girls who've been training with you, well...oh, I'm sure you'd say they were more friendly, now. More approachable." Derek just sat there, tapping his fingers in a slow, measured rhythm on the arm of his chair. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. "But that's why I'm doing all the talking, Derek, and you're not." She slipped into the chair opposite his desk, and sat down. It felt nice and soft, very expensive--they'd all been a little surprised that Derek had just been hired straight into such a nice position, complete with a corner office and the funds to decorate it however he liked. But that didn't seem so surprising now. "Because I don't trust you. I mean, none of us ever trusted you, Derek. You were always an oily bastard, and we all figured you must have some kind of hold on Ms Plimpton to get this job to begin with, but I really don't trust you now." Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. He never stopped, never changed the rhythm. He never looked away from her. Lori wasn't sure if he even blinked. "I'll admit, I probably should have noticed sooner." She realized she was rambling a little, but he was throwing her off with the way he was so damned calm about the whole thing. She'd thought that maybe she would come in here, he'd see the gun, and he'd...break down, maybe. Start sobbing. Admit his guilt...except that she'd have shot him if he'd said anything. Wouldn't she? "But you made a good choice, starting with Staci. Half of us thought she was a fucking slut anyway. When you announced that she'd be attending 'special customer service training', well...we all just thought it was a euphemism for 'fucking me in the office for an hour every morning'." Lori switched the gun to her other hand for a moment and wiped the sweat from her palm onto her blouse. "So when Staci came out of your office every day with a stupid grin on her face, we didn't think twice. When she started wearing higher and higher skirts, we just bitched about how unfair it was that she could get away with anything because she was fucking Ms Plimpton's office pet. I didn't even notice for a while that she'd stopped bringing in crossword puzzles and started bringing in Harlequin romances, because fuck, it wasn't like I talked much with Staci anyway." Lori tried to steady her breathing, calm her jangling nerves. But the calmer, the more impassive Derek seemed, the more nervous she got. She just wanted to find something to crack that calm veneer, say something that would prove that she knew it all and that he was in deep shit now. "But when Ms Plimpton started dyeing her hair? That was when I started to think something was wrong. I didn't know what, I thought maybe she and Staci were jealous of each other, but...but why over you? You're not exactly a looker." She half-hoped he'd flinch at that, but he just kept tapping his fingers. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. She looked down at his hand, at the gaudy ring he wore. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. "And then you started in on 'special training' with Gina. And I knew you couldn't be fucking Gina. She was practically a nun. But every day, she walked out of your office with that same stupid grin Staci wore--and Staci, she was smiling like that practically non-stop by then. Chewing gum on the job, giggling like a schoolgirl and flirting with all her clients...of course, she's a natural blonde. You didn't need to make her dye it." Lori jabbed the gun at him just a little. "Because it was you, wasn't it? Don't answer that," she said quickly. "It's a rhetorical question." He didn't answer, though. He didn't even clear his throat to answer. He just sat there, tapping his fingers. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. The ring glittered with every motion of his hand. She had a sudden irrational urge to scream at him, to tell him to stop tapping his fingers, but she controlled it. She was in control here. She had him just where she wanted him. "When Gina walked in with her new manicure, I knew something was up. Pink fingernails? Bleach-blonde hair? You might as well have tattooed your name on her ass." For all Lori knew, he did. She pictured it for a moment, Derek signing each girl with his name, marking them as his. Lori shivered. "But I still didn't know what. I just knew that all the girls were changing, becoming..." She trailed off as she tried to put it into words. All she could really get was a succession of images. Ms Plimpton, handing out gym memberships to every girl at the office to help them 'get trim and slim'. Gina, talking to a client over the phone like she didn't even care about who heard her, moaning, "Oh, God, you're turning me on, I've got my hand down my panties and three fingers in my twat," and the smell of sex everywhere in the office as it became clear she wasn't just saying it. Lori walking past a vacant conference room and hearing gasps and grunts, putting her eye to the crack in the door and spotting Staci being fucked from both ends by two of their long-term clients, taking a cock in her mouth and another in her cunt and clearly loving every second of it. Lori realized she'd been sitting there for almost a full minute, just staring at that glittering ring, listening to that slow, insistent rhythm and remembering the way that all the girls were turning into sex-crazed sluts. She noticed that her breathing had slowed, matching Derek's calm, deep breaths. She noticed that the chair really was very, very comfortable. She jerked her eyes away from the ring, blinking furiously as she glared at him. "Whatever it is you're doing," she said, trying to disguise the sudden wavery quality to her voice, "stop it. I still have the gun." He didn't react at all. He just kept staring at her, the expression on his face speaking volumes. He wasn't afraid of that gun. He wasn't afraid of her. Whatever power there was in this situation, it didn't come from the gun; it came from him and the mysterious hold he seemed to have over every woman in the office. Lori didn't know what he'd done, how he'd done it. She couldn't protect herself from it. She'd been a fool to come here. Derek blinked, and Lori blinked right along with him. "It was..." She tried to put the steel back in her voice, get some of that Dirty Harry feeling back. But the gun just felt so heavy, and she was so worried, and she didn't want to look away from him for fear he might do something but she felt like he was doing something to her as she watched and she couldn't look away and she couldn't close her eyes and suddenly her eyes felt so heavy as she started worrying that if she let her eyes close, he'd do something to her, and the more she tried not to think about her eyes closing, the more she did think about it until it was all she could think about, and the tapping seemed to be slowing down, or maybe it was her that was slowing down, and she wasn't even sure anymore... She tried to speak. Her voice sounded slurred. "It was Daisy. When she went in for 'special training'. I listened. I listened outside your office, nobody cared, they were all off fucking our clients to keep them happy because nobody did any work anymore except me and Daisy and she was going in for 'special training'. "And I knew that was where you were doing things to the girls, making them..." Making them suck and fuck, turning them into horny bimbos who wanted nothing more than to look pretty, keep fit, and screw anything that moved. None of them even tried to think anymore, none of them read anything deeper than 'People' magazine, and when they weren't fucking the clients, they were fucking each other. They weren't even hiding it anymore. Lori had come in to work to find Ms Plimpton under Gina's desk, licking out her twat while Gina threw back her head and howled in ecstasy... "Making them yours. So I listened." Derek still didn't react. He still just watched her with that same imperious gaze, as though she was telling the story at his request. No, not request. Derek didn't look like he 'requested' anything. At his command. "And I heard you talking to Daisy. Telling her to look deeply into your eyes. Telling her to watch you very carefully, to just sink into the chair and let her body relax. Telling her how important it was to pay attention to you, to listen to your every word and accept it." The tapping was so slow now, Lori felt like everything in the world was slowing down to match it. Tap. "You told her she was...getting sleepy, eyelids getting...heavy..." Tap. "You said just listen, relax, sink deeper..." Tap. "You said...more you relax, better you feel..." Tap. "More you relax...more you want to relax..." Tap. "More you want to relax...sleepier you get..." Tap. It wasn't just her eyes now, or the gun. Everything felt heavy. Her arms, her legs, her head, like gravity was pressing down on her with more intensity every second. She couldn't stop the overheard conversation playing itself out in her head, but her jaw felt too slack and her mind felt too sleepy to do more than recite a few key words. "Sleepy," she whispered. "Deep...obey, must obey..." She felt the gun slip out of her hand. It was too heavy to hold anyway. She wanted to look for where it fell, just in case she needed to grab it quickly, but it felt impossible to look away from Derek's eyes now. They filled her whole world. Lori was dimly aware of her whole body slumping bonelessly into the chair, her head sinking into the headrest like it was the world's softest, most comfortable pillow, but her whole attention was consumed with keeping her eyes open just a little bit longer, holding onto just a shred of willpower in the face of Derek's total, all-consuming authority. Derek stood up. It was hard to keep her eyes locked on him when she had to look up, her head was too heavy to move and her eyes just kept rolling back in her head and that made her feel even dizzier, even sleepier, even more obedient. She caught herself wondering what she'd look like as a blonde. Derek walked around the desk, stood right over her. She noticed in her peripheral vision that his cock was rock-hard, bulging in his pants. She remembered hearing Daisy chant a mantra, and she couldn't quite remember the words right now but she felt a little trickle of drool at the corner of her mouth as she imagined sucking on Derek's cock. She thought for a second that she remembered hearing slurping sounds that day as Daisy did exactly that, but then it became too hard to think at all. Derek spoke. In the hush of the office after hours, it seemed to fill her whole head. He said, "Good girl. Sink all the way down for me, now." Lori tried to summon up some last effort, find some words to tell Derek he wouldn't get away with this, that she'd fight him, that she'd shoot him if she had to, once she summoned up enough energy to find the gun, that she didn't want to be turned into a horny little bimbo slut like all the other girls, didn't want her mind to leak out and soak her panties like Daisy as her cunt got hot and damp and tingly with lust and the need, the absolute need to be fucked that slowly pushed everything else out of her mind leaving only that soft, dreamy heat that made her such a hot, obedient slut for Master. But all that came out was, "I..." "Shh, now," Derek said, putting his finger to her lips. Lori's mind stilled completely, her eyes slid all the way shut. "Don't speak." THE END Don't Speak "My house. 11:15. Don't speak." The light turned yellow in front of Esmee, and she applied the brake and allowed her car to ease to a stop. She used the momentary pause in her travels to look back at her phone and read the text message again. "My house. 11:15. Don't speak." It wasn't like Mychl to be so cryptic. This obvious contrast to his personality was extremely curious, and her curiosity had grown as he was not returning her calls or texts except to send the same message. "My house. 11:15. Don't speak." Esmee was shook from her thoughts as she realized the light was glaring green. She was fortunate the weather was so bad, and no one else was on the roads. The rain was hard and relentless, and the sky seemed even darker than normal; the random streaks of lightning the only exception. The headlights of the car flashed across Mychl's house as Esmee pulled into his driveway. Her face crumpled in confusion as she looked at the dark home. The glow of light was absent from every window. Any normal passerby could easily assume the owner of the house was away on holiday, and Esmee began to feel the rise of annoyance inside her as she realized that Mychl may not be there. He wouldn't have left town and not told her. He never was asleep by 11:15, and after all, he had sent her this mystery text today. "My house. 11:15. Don't speak." Her eyes strained through the fleeting but repetitive moments of clarity offered by the wipers, and she saw the outline of what seemed to be a note hanging squarely in the middle of the front door. Begrudgingly, Esmee pulled her jacket tight around her neck and quickly exited her car. Her short heels clicked on the pavement as she jogged to the front door. Finally reaching the safety of Mychl's front stoop, and the cover of his awning, she squinted in the dark to read the note as she shook the rain off of her jacket. "Don't speak... but do remember that it is your choice to enter this door. Don't speak ... but be willing to do as you're told. Don't speak ... Don't speak." The trouble of the rain and the unknown sulked away like an athlete who had been defeated, and a smile crept its way onto Esmee's face. Mychl was playing a game. Esmee did not know the rules, but a hope grew inside her at what might transpire on this mysterious night. She stared off into the rain as she recalled that night in Vegas when she met Mychl. So strange two people from the same city would meet hundreds of miles from home. She took a moment to look back over her shoulder like someone who knows what they are about to do is forbidden. She turned her eyes back to the note and read again to herself, "... but be willing to do as you're told." Esmee ran her fingers through her rain soaked hair and quickly entered Mychl's house. The house was warm but still very dark. The only source of light came from a single candle sitting on a small table in the middle of his foyer. A coat rack stood straight and valiant, like a guard to this dwelling, next to a small table. There was a trail of what seemed to be black rose petals leading from the front door to the small table, and then onward to the stairs. Next to the candle was yet another note, which Esmee walked over, took in her hands, and read... "Don't speak ... but do remove all your clothes. Don't speak ... all you require will be provided. Don't speak ... don't speak." Esmee dropped the note back onto the table. She slipped her jacket off her shoulders and hung it on the rack. A subtle sound of movement grabbed her attention, but as she looked around she did not see where it came from. A knowing expression filled her face as she began to understand what was happening. Mychl was watching her. She could not see him, but she felt his eyes consuming her as she slowly and deliberately removed each article of clothing from her body. As she finished undressing she turned to the stair case. The hard wood floor was cold on her bare feet and she welcomed the warmth of the carpet as she ascended the stairs. Esmee searched the shadows to see where Mychl could be, but as she arrived at the top, she could not find him. Instead she found yet another table with another single candle. Her third note of the night was propped up on some lacy black intimates. She took this note, eager to know her next instruction. "Don't speak ... but be thankful for the things I have provided. Don't speak ... but put these things on and present yourself to me. Don't speak ... and do not keep me waiting." Esmee replaced the note on the table and took the first article in her hands. It was a long black nylon. The fabric was sheer except for the thick black seam that zigzagged up the back. Leaning against the banister, Esmee slipped the garment up her long leg. Then taking the second nylon she did the same. The next piece was a black garter belt, which she stepped into and shimmied up over her hips. Then delicately she fastened the clips to the hosiery. The last two articles Mychl had left for her were such a surprise. It was a man's necktie, already loosely tied in a double Windsor, and a black velvet beret. The ends of her mouth curled in enjoyment as she slipped the tie over her head and allowed it to fall between her breasts. Propping the beret on her head she turned and followed the petals into the bedroom. As she entered the room, Esmee finally saw Mychl. All over the room candles were scattered and they cast an ominous glow over everything. The room was warm and smelled of vanilla. Esmee had been to Mychl's room before, but on this night it seemed a foreign place. Mychl was sitting in an armless padded chair with one knee drawn up to his chest. He wore a black fedora which had a silken red ribbon. Mychl had pulled the hat low on his brow. His eyes gazed at her from underneath the brim. He wore nothing else but black satin boxers, and he was twirling what seemed to be a black cane through his fingers. On the end of the cane was a shiny silver orb. Esmee began to approach Mychl, and as she did he quickly held the cane up in front of him. The movement stopped her in her tracks. Mychl coyly smiled and said, "Good." He got to his feet and walked over to where she stood. He slowly circled her with his steps, his eyes moving up and down her body. He eased to a stop in front of her and said, "I trust you find my provisions adequate." Esmee parted her lips to answer, but then thinking back on the notes; she tilted her head softly to one side and offered him a slow nod. Mychl smiled at her understanding. Mychl extended the orb on the end of the cane and allowed it to rest on Esmee's shoulder. Slowly he traced her silhouette with the shiny trinket. Over her shoulder... then down her arm... slipping it between her arm and body he continued to allow it to slide down her ribs and over her hips. He walked behind her. Esmee closed her eyes as she felt the cold steel brush against her. It glided between her shoulder blades and down her spine, pausing for just a moment, before it continued across the groove of her backside and down her thigh. Walking around to face her again, Mychl looked intently into Esmee's eyes. He leaned in and Esmee was sure he was going to kiss her, but just before their lips touched Mychl slid his head to the side and whispered in her ear, "Your appearance always pleases me so." Mychl took the tie around Esmee's neck in his hand and guided her over to the bed. As they walked Esmee's eyes scanned the room. Lying over both the head and foot boards were long shiny strips of fabric. They seemed to be made out of the same satin Mychl was wearing. On the nightstand was a glass bowl filled with ice. A large fat candle flickered next to the bowl, and next to the candle was a corked glass vial of what appeared to be some sort of oil. Mychl pulled downward on the tie and Esmee sat down on the bed. He took one of the many strips of cloth and slowly began to wrap it around her wrists. Once her hands were securely fastened to one another he laid her back on the bed and took a second strip of fabric. Running it between her arms, he looped it around her restraints. Then he raised her hands over her head and tied the second strap to the head board. Esmee's beret slipped off her head, and Mychl grabbed it and tossed it over the foot of the bed. Then he removed his own hat and sent it flying after the beret. Mychl mirrored the bindings on Esmee's wrists with the same on her ankles, and she lay before him stretched across the bed. Reaching over to the nightstand Mychl took the glass vial and removed the cork. Offering the now open top to Esmee, she breathed the fruity fragrance deep in her lungs. Mychl took the loose end of the tie and lifted it off Esmee's body, allowing it to come to rest just on the bed above her shoulder. Holding the vial high above her body, Mychl slowly tipped his hand forward and allowed the fragrant oil to spill down on Esmee's chest and stomach. Replacing the vial to the nightstand, Mychl threw his leg over Esmee's thighs and straddled her. His hands started on her stomach and he began to spread the slippery liquid all over Esmee's body. His hands slid to her sides and up her ribs, and then continued over the entire length of her arms. Sliding back down her arms and around her neck, Mychl's hands slipped beside, and then under her breasts. His hands then lifted each breast, pressing them against one another. Her nipples sliding in between all of his fingers as he massaged them in his palms. Once Mychl was satisfied that Esmee was covered in the liquid, he leaned over and took a single ice cube in his fingers. He slipped the ice over her lips. Esmee's mouth parted slightly and she sucked the water from the melting ice off of Mychl's fingers. Her efforts were in vain and some of the chilled water spilled over her chin and ran down her neck. Pulling his hand away from Esmee's mouth, Mychl replaced the ice with his own mouth. Esmee felt her lips warm again at the touch of his lips, and his tongue inside her mouth felt as if it were aflame in the contrast. This game continued on; Mychl taking the ice to Esmee's body, but always quick to replace the ice with his mouth, wherever it may go. He traced a trail down her neck and over her chest to that place just between her breasts. Then he took a much longer time alternating from that place, to her nipples. It seemed he understood that the more he slipped the ice over her body, the longer he needed to use his mouth to warm her again. Esmee was writhing against her restraints. When Mychl added his hand sliding over her smooth pussy to his mouth enveloping her neck, chest, and breasts, she sighed loudly. Mychl didn't object. He understood all too well the desire that was building between them. To expect that the night could continue in silence would have been inconceivable! Mychl took his hand from between Esmee's legs, and gently tasted her wetness from off of his fingers and the whispered,"It seems you are ready." Mychl stood beside the bed. He slipped the satin boxers down his hips and stepped out of them. Taking the glass vial he poured the oil over his chest. Leaning over he poured just a little more oil between Esmee's breasts. He loosened the fabric from her wrists and allowed her hands to go free. Esmee took the liberty of spreading the newly placed oil over her own chest, and Mychl likewise rubbed the sticky liquid into his own body. He covered his chest and stomach and continued to allow his hands to move lower. His hand coated his cock and his balls completely with the oil. Mychl returned to his position straddling Esmee. This time he was higher on her body. Leaning back on his knees his shaft was just above Esmee's face. He slowly stroked himself in front of her as her newly freed hands drug her nails down his stomach and over his thighs. Esmee slipped one hand around his leg and grabbed tightly onto his ass. Her other hand replaced his own on his cock, and she lifted his shaft . Mychl took hold of the tie again and used it to lift Esmee's face to his underside. Understanding fully, Esmee took his taut sack into her mouth. Mychl leaned back on both of his arms as his hips matched both the movement of Esmee's hands on his cock and her mouth on his balls. After a few minutes, and many long slow sighs from Mychl, he slid himself down her body. His hands reached down and again cupped her breasts pressing them against one another. With a deliberate push from his hips, he pressed his cock between her breasts as his thumbs slipped back and forth over her nipples. His movements went from slow and calculated to much quicker and more deliberate. When Esmee reached her head forward to allow his swollen head to press against her tongue, he cried out his approval.  Mychl quickly removed the restraints from Esmee's legs and then rolled over onto his back and in one motion pulled Esmee on top of him and pushed slightly down on her shoulders moving her head low on his body. His hands moved to take handfuls of hair as her mouth lowered on his shaft. She would take him in for a few moments, and then release to allow herself the chance to drag her tongue along the entire shaft. This only happened a few times before she felt his hold on her head tighten and again she took him into her mouth. Her mouth was warm and slick and every time her head lowered on him, Mychl let out a cry. Mychl grabbed Esmee under the arms and pulled her up to kiss her deeply. She was on her hands and knees on top of him as he grabbed his rigid cock and began to slip its head up and down her slit. He started to slip inside her, but retracted and again went to pressing the head up and down against her. This continued over and over again, each time Mychl allowing himself to penetrate Esmee even further. Finally, Mychl took his hands round Esmee's waist and cupped her ass as he began making long slow consistent strokes inside her. Esmee rose up from off of her hands and it was now her turn to straddle Mychl. Her hips began to move with Mychl's thrusts. Their breathing became heavier as they both continued to advance the pace. Esmee's hips stopped moving as her hand found her own clit and rubbed it with the same ferocity that Mychl was now thrusting beneath her. The room filled with the sounds of their cries and their skin slapping against one another. Esmee's hips began to crash down on Mychl relentlessly, her hand never leaving her own body. Her toes curled tightly. The friction on her clit and the fullness she felt from Mychl's cock caused her legs and stomach to quiver violently. Suddenly Mychl cried out loudly and lifted Esmee off of his throbbing cock. She reached down with her free hand and took hold of him just as he came violently. His load was larger than normal and shot into the air before falling in ribbons across her knuckles and mixing with her own cum that coated his cock. Esmee collapsed down beside Mychl. It took them more than a few minutes to catch their breath. Mychl finally moved and retrieved the pillows and comforter from the floor beside the bed. He placed everything just so, and guided Esmee to her rightful position. Placing her head on the pillow and pulling the comforter up over her body she looked up at him. She started to make a comment... but Mychl simply put his finger to her lips and said..."Don't speak." ***** The editorial assistance of WickedInside was greatly appreciated in writing this story. Don't Speak to Me of Desire Don't speak to me about desire. I know more of that word than most know about their own heartbeats. I have desired many things, some of which I have actually managed to grasp. I know desire. I know it well. I desire her with a part of me so ancient that it is nothing more than the spawn of patience. I look at her and wonder what it would be like to know her touch on my skin. Soft? Harsh? Dominating? Submissive? This part of me, an elder of mankind be eons, does not wonder... it waits. It waits for the answers to come. If they never come, then it simply shrugs and continues to do as it has always done. So don't speak to me of desire. How many of you know what it is like to look upon someone and know that you will never have that someone at your side? I do not mean that the odds are stacked against you. I mean know, as you know your own heart is beating because you are alive, that you will never know the touch of that person. Not even so much as a playful slap on the rear or a handshake? How many? I possess such knowledge. I know that I will never rise with the morning sun and be greeted by that face. Don't speak to me of desire. Yet there are those who see desire as a physical thing only. All that they know of desire is what little tidbits their lust inflamed loins will allow their mind. A stiff dick... maybe a pair of hard nipples... a wet twat. This is desire? They know nothing. They have not wanted the precious moments spent walking through a park with a smile on their faces. All they want, not desire, is a fuck. Good... bad... it does not matter to them. All they want is a fuck. They know nothing. What about that one moment when you look into their eyes and know that the Universe can do as it will... you will be together? Nothing. Is this to say that desire does not encompass physical love? No, for they do not seek love. When I speak of desire, that means everything. When I hold my chosen in my arms and we kiss, it is not some formality that must be done before a dick fucks a twat. We kiss because we desire each other. When we make love, it is the total sharing of souls, not just grunt work done because a cunt was wet or a cock was hard. Our sweat will flow not from lust. It won't be the snarls of animals heard, but the whispered gentle tones of love. My chosen is not some piece of meat picked out from the packaged and sanitized portions available at the market. Don't speak to me of desire. I have not seen the one I desire in some time, yet I know where they are. I know their smile. I know their laugh. What do they know? What do you know? Speak to me of desire when you know of such things. Speak to me when you kiss your chosen gently on the cheek and await the world. Speak to me of desire when you have fought the hordes of morality, black man, as you hold on to the not-so-black woman. Speak to me of desire when you, redneck, look into the eyes of a black woman and smile warmly, feeling nothing but the vaunted Southern gentleman within your soul. Speak to me of desire, most honored Asian gentleman, when you face ages of tradition and honor with your Eastern love held close. Speak to me then. Speak to me of desire, venomous femi-nazi, when you stand beside your chosen, male or female, with the gentle pride of a baker who has made countless loafs of bread and hold not one in the highest regard. Speak to me of desire, man hater, when you gaze, if but for a moment, into a man's eyes and wonder if he may be the one to shatter the beliefs you hold so dear. Speak to me then. Do not say the words you have burned into memory. Do not say that you know desire. You know nothing of its bite on your flesh. Speak to me of desire when you have walked next to someone who will listen to your words, and judge them by their own standards, morals, and beliefs. Speak to me then. Desire turns to hope. Hope to a dead flower in the Winter. Speak to me then. While I know who I desire... while I know I desire them... while I accept the possibility that my desire may well be that flower... I know. What do you know. Tell me. Tell me how you wanted to bed this one or that one. Tell me. Open your mouth. Let me hear your words. Speak them clearly. I know of desire. Do you? Desire does not care whom you chose to sleep with. It does not care which position you like or hate. Male on male means nothing. Woman with woman means nothing. It is eternal; it is patient. Why should it care if a man wants another as a bed partner? Why should the concerns of a horny lesbian bother it? I know of desire. I have been wrapped within its embrace all too long. I have tried to draw a breath as it squeezed my throat. I know of desire. What of you? What do you know? How many times can you fuck a twat or ride a dick before you crave another? How long before your "desire" changes? How many assholes have been fucked in the name of desire? How many slits have been slurped in the name of desire? And with each of these... how much was known of desire? Don't speak to me of desire. So go. Walk the streets. Visit the bars. Find them. Fuck them. Forget them. See them. Screw them. Scram. Use them for the cum dumps you wish them to be. Ride them for the joy ride you crave. And know this: you know nothing. Don't speak to me of desire.