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He called

By: exxxpression



He called me.

I hadn't talked to him in so long that just seeing his number on my caller ID sent a shiver down my spine. I picked up the phone, acutely aware of my husband's presence next to me, trying to act normal. "Hello," I said, carefully nonchalant.

"Can I see you soon?" he asked. Straight to the point. He always was like that. I could feel myself getting wet just thinking about him.

"Yeah, maybe Wednesday?" I said, glancing at my husband. He was still engaged in whatever he was doing on his computer. I felt the hair on my arms raise slightly, thinking he knew just what I was doing, that he would grab the phone at any minute and tell the caller to go fuck himself, that he would just leave.

"Seven o'clock?"

"See you then." I hung up immediately and turned my attention back to the television, as though nothing had happened. As if I hadn't just made a date right under my husband's nose. He didn't even say anything.

It felt like Wednesday arrived within minutes. I normally work a double on Wednesdays, but I had already secretly arranged for a coworker to cover my second shift. As I was getting ready for work that day, I chose my outfit very carefully to accentuate my assets. I picked a black thong and a beige pencil skirt, tightly hugging the curve of my ample rear, and a sexy black lace bra, which I covered with a tight-fitting black blouse with a diving neckline. My 36D's were still as perky as ever, and the cleavage was almost deep enough to dive into.

I smiled at myself in the mirror, knowing how good I looked. Despite nearing 30, my hourglass figure was as sexy as ever. My husband walked by and slapped my ass, and I playfully swatted his hand away, sure that he could see the deep flush creep up into my cheeks at the thought of what I would be doing at seven. 

My shift at work seemed to pass in minutes, and before I knew it, I was walking up to the door of his apartment. I raised my hand to knock, but before I even touched the wood, the door swung open, and he was in front of me.

"Hi," he said. I watched him drink me in from top to bottom, watched his pupils dilate as he took in my curves. I did the same, letting my gaze slide down his tall, slender frame. He was so different from my husband: pale and blonde, compared to my husband's dark Mediterranean complexion and hair. My eyes lingered briefly on the zipper of his blue jeans. "Come in," he invited, breaking my reverie.

I stepped over the threshold into his arms. He reached past me to slam the door shut as I raised my lips to his. He was over six feet to my meager five-two, but we had always managed to fit together. I pressed my mouth against his, darting my tongue playfully between his lips. 

Already I could feel his hardness through our clothes, and moisture was beginning to rise between my own legs. He kissed me more deeply, our tongues dancing together, and pulled me tightly against him. For a moment, it seemed like the world slipped away as we kissed, as though nothing else mattered or would ever matter again.

He released me gently, taking my hand in his. "Let's at least get to the bedroom," he said, smiling. His cheeks were flushed under his pale skin. He led me across the living room to his bedroom. I could tell he had cleaned for me; his king-size bed was neatly made with a midnight-blue comforter, and candles burned on each of the bedside tables. I smiled at the effort, since he knew what was going to happen regardless. It was sweet, romantic, and completely unnecessary.

I placed one hand on his chest and pushed him down onto the bed. I clambered atop him, my skirt hitching up to my hips, exposing the creamy white flesh of my thighs. Straddling him, I leaned down and kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around me, his tongue pushing deeper into my mouth, his hard cock pressing against my nearly naked crotch.

I sat up, still atop him, and peeled off my top. He shifted my weight on top of him so that he too could sit up. Keeping me straddled on top of him, he reached behind me and unhooked my bra. My large breasts tumbled out, pink nipples standing tightly at attention. 

He groaned just at the sight of them. Cupping the left one in his hand, he flicked the nipple gently with his tongue. My hips jerked involuntarily against him, and I moaned. He flicked it again and again, and I tipped my head back, arching my back and thrusting my tits forward toward his face. 

He switched his attention to the right breast, giving it the same tongue teasing as he pinched my left nipple with his hand. I moaned again, feeling myself getting even wetter, as he finally took my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. My hips thrust against him again, and he sucked more urgently at my breasts, switching randomly between them. I could feel myself reaching climax.

He felt it too, and took me further, biting softly at my erect nipples. He pressed my breasts together, taking both nipples into his mouth at once, biting and sucking as I thrust helplessly against him. I cried out and orgasmed hard, my body rigid, my wet bush pushing against his erection through his jeans. He kept me at the peak of sensation as long as possible, biting at my nipples and holding me hard against him.

I finally relaxed, letting my head come back forward. I sighed heavily, feeling my breathing return to normal and my eyes refocus. He laughed softly and said, "Well that was easy." I smiled coyly back at him, saying, "Oh, I'm not done yet." 

I pulled his T-shirt over his head and pushed him onto his back again. His frame was slender but muscular. I pulled my leg across him, so that I was lying next to him, and kissed his mouth briefly, letting one hand wander down his torso. 

I began kissing his neck and ear as my hand unbuttoned his jeans, lowered the zipper, and slid inside. I massaged his hard dick as I kissed his face, his lips, his neck. He groaned slightly, and I released him. Kissing him hard one more time, I began the journey downward.

I kissed my way down his chest and stomach, trailing my fingers up and down his sides and watching him shiver with pleasure. I arrived at his crotch, and pulled his jeans and boxer briefs off, watching his erection spring free from its trap. 

I held it with one hand and took the tip into my mouth, sucking hard as I pulled back and released it. He cried out, and I settled myself between his legs, sucking again, but only on the hard tip. I tasted a drop of his seed on my lips, and went deeper, taking more and more of him in every time I went down, until his whole shaft was in my mouth. 

"Oh, God!" he cried, grabbing my head and pushing me down harder. I swirled my tongue around the tip of his penis as I came up, and let him guide me back down, sucking hard.

My pussy was tingling with anticipation, so wet that I couldn't take it anymore. I released him and sat up, straddling him again, my skirt still hiked up around my hips. I shoved my thong to one side and lowered myself onto him slowly, until I had taken his full eight inches in. 

It felt so good to feel him filling me up. His erection was almost a forty-five degree angle, so that it pushed hard against my G-spot when I sat upright on top of him. My thong was shoved against my clit, so that as I began to move, it rubbed hard against me. 

I slowly moved up and down, his cock pressing against me inside, my thong pressing against me outside. I had barely started when I began to come again. My muscles clenched and unclenched, milking his shaft as I climaxed, my breasts swinging and bouncing as I fucked him.

My thong was now dripping wet. "Don't move," I told him. I pulled myself off him long enough to remove both it and my skirt, and immediately climbed back aboard. This time, rather than ride him cowgirl style, I laid down on his torso, my tits conveniently up near his mouth, and my whole body pressed against his. 

As I started to move, my clit rubbed up against him, and he took one breast into his mouth, sucking hard. The combination of sensations was incredible. I thrust my hips against him slowly, relishing the feeling of his body pressed against mine, of his tongue lapping at my nipple. He flicked at my other nipple with his fingers, and my throbbing clit started to respond again. 

I tried to slow my climax, to pace myself, but my body wouldn't listen. For a third time, I was thrown into the throes of sensation again, exploding against him. He pulled my head to him and kissed me as I came. I moaned into his mouth, feeling my body tense and release with the sensation.

As soon as my climax ended, he grabbed me around the waist, and flipped me onto my back without withdrawing from me. He propped himself up over top of me, and pulled my legs up over his shoulder. In that position, he began to move, slowly at first, but picking up speed, jamming his dick into me as hard as he could. 

I lifted my hips to meet him as he came forward, pushing him inside me as far as he could go. As he neared his own climax, he reached down with one hand and flicked my clit, rubbing it in time to his thrusts. The pleasure was mounting again, but I held off my own orgasm until he reached his, so that we both cried out simultaneously, his penis jumping inside me as he spent himself, pressing against my G-spot and intensifying my orgasm.

After he was done, he collapsed on top of me, my legs trapped underneath him, his dick softening inside me. I found his lips and kissed him gently, mostly without tongue. After a few minutes, he rolled to one side, and I sat up, smiling at his languid posture and closed eyes. 

I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up, doing my best to reorganize my hair and refresh my makeup. I then began finding my clothes, which were all scattered more or less in the vicinity of the bed. The thong was too wet to wear, so I just left it where it lay, and hoped my husband wouldn't notice that I had left wearing panties that I wasn't returning in.

"Leaving so soon?" he mumbled from the bed. I had been there only about half an hour.

"I'm expected at home," I answered. "My shift only goes until 8."

He seemed to suddenly remember about my husband waiting for me. "Oh. Well. See you next time?" 

"Sure, I guess." I swept up the last of my stuff, ignoring the wet thong next to him on the bed, and saw myself out.

He Called Again Last Night



He called again last night. He told me that in the morning there would be a box on my porch. That I was to take it inside the house, place it in my bedroom, and leave it there, unopened.

He would be calling again tomorrow night. Then he had me turn the lights off and get in bed, snuggled in safely under my quilt as he told me one last story. Of a man who finally has to hold the woman of his dreams. Of how he held her tenderly, and tasted her lips as if they were made of the finest and rarest of wine; Of how he stroked her to ease the fear that caused her heart to beat in triple time within her chest. Then, just as I drifted off to sleep, I remember hearing the phone hang up.

Tonight as I sit here remembering his words of last night I look out the window at the beautiful sunset. I remember bits and pieces of the conversations we have had over the last 3 months, and understand that all this time has been leading up to here and now, to this terrified excitement deep in my stomach. As I lifted my tea to my lips to take a sip, I noticed the trembling of my hands. Every nerve in my body was drawing tight.

There was no question he knew who I was, and I had given up asking him how he knew me, and from where. He called me once or twice a week, every week for about 3 months now. I had not really felt afraid of him, not in a long time. At first I had worried, searching the faces of every man I passed hoping for a clue to who he was. But as the months passed and nothing threatening happened, I had relaxed, even looked forward to his calls. I mean, its almost like we had developed a sort of relationship -- if that is possible from just talking to each other -- yet I knew nothing of him. He seemed to always touch on something I was feeling inside during his calls. Our conversations encompassed many topics; sometimes it was all-sexual, he would probe my fantasies, my previous sexual experiences, and at other times it was just easy conversations. I began to listen to the things he said to me. I found that he began to appear in my dreams, this faceless apparition that haunted me over the phone lines. I began to dream of the stories he would weave for me during the late night calls.

His stories held my attention. I didn't really understand why such tales held such appeal to him, and more than that I didn't understand why I listened to them with such rapt attention because they frightened me at times, yet eventually became so very erotic to me. Over time they came to sound romantic and desirable. They were erotic tales of bondage and domination.

The stories were of women, enslaved by strong and seemingly cruel men. Why would any self-respecting woman want it? His answer; "It is where she longs to be. And if it wasn't right for her, there is no way she could be held there. It's the place where she can give herself over to her desires with total abandonment, knowing she cannot be held responsible, it is pleasure without guilt" 

I got the idea the woman is his story was always the same in his mind. I once asked him what she looked like. He described her as tall and slim, with small breasts and long legs. With dark hair, and deep eyes that made you never want to look away. "Someone as beautiful as you," he would say. That always made my heart skip a beat, the way he described me made me sound beautiful and precious to him. I would ask him why he kept calling me. His answer was always the same "You have a beautiful heart."

Tonight, as I sit here thinking; watching the beautiful sunset in the distance; I think only of him. It's silly, perhaps even dangerous, as I know nothing about him. I don't even know his name, or where he is from. All I know of him is his voice, and his stories. 

The phone rang, startling me from my thoughts. I knew before I picked it up that it was him. I picked it up with a knot of apprehension in my throat and my voice cracked as I whispered, "Hello."

His voice comes to me out of the darkness like a warm summer breeze, "You are to go into your bedroom and undress. Make sure your door is unlocked. Slip the blind fold in the package over your beautiful eyes, and then take the metal cuffs I sent to you and put the first one on your wrist, lace the chain around one of the bars on your headboard and then clip the cuff onto the other wrist and relax there on your back."

"I'm afraid," I whisper, suddenly thinking of running, anywhere, away from here, and him. 

"I know," he said. Then he hung up the phone. I had no way of knowing how close he was, or how long he would be in getting to me. I thought of calling the police, but something in my gut said not to. He had never threatened me, his stories were erotic, never sick or frightening, I had to find out, I would never forgive myself if I didn't. I got up, went to my bedroom, and undressed. I slipped the soft silky blindfold over my eyes just before I snapped the first cuff loosely on my bed frame. A moment of cold panic hit me just before I snapped the other cuff into place. With the snapping of the second cuff on my wrist, securing my body helplessly to my bed, I knew that I was about to say goodbye to something. I prayed it was not my life. I prayed that my intuition was right, and I was in no danger. I shook, and wasn't sure if it was excitement or fear, lust or panic.

I suddenly heard him breathing, and felt warm breath on my cheek as he bent over me. "Finally, after so long waiting, wanting…here we are," he whispered. 

I swallowed hard, waiting to feel him touch me, rape me, I wasn't sure what.

Instead his low voice spoke gently in my ear. "I'm watching you; your beautiful body is shaking. You fear me and I understand, but soon you will understand there is nothing to fear but yourself." 

He touched me then, a gentle stroke along my collarbone, then over my shoulder and up my arm, stroking the tender skin at the inside of my elbow, up to my wrist where it was encircled by the cuff. His hand lifted and moved to my ribcage, which he traced gently with his fingers, but he didn't touch my breast. I couldn't make a sound. All of a sudden I wanted his hand on my breast, wanted him to touch all of my most intimate places. His hand caressed down over my belly, to my hip and my thigh all the way down to my left foot, where he slipped something around my ankle, and then almost as quickly, my right ankle. His touch was so gentle, his voice low and soft as he asked, "Are you O.K.?"

I nodded my head. One by one, my ankles were secured to the corners of the bed. I felt myself become wet as I pulled my legs gently and felt his straps pull back.

He said softly, low. "You are so beautiful". He put his hand in the center of my chest, and whispered, "I feel it."

I swallowed hard once again and asked in barely more than a hoarse whisper, "You feel what?"

His answer was slow in coming. "The beating of your slave heart" he said. 

I choked back a sob and began to struggle as I heard words that terrified me, words that I didn't want to hear. Not here, not now; not tied, not so helpless. I could hardly breathe. I felt the weight of his body as he lay beside me. His hand gripped my hair as he put his lips to my ear.

"Shhhhh. You are safe. Shhhhh." He stroked my hair, his touch slowly calming me. I could smell him, an aftershave I couldn't put a name to. My heart was still pounding inside me, but the terror slowly subsided.

It was the softest touch, when his lips met mine. It was hard to breathe with him lying over me as he was. So my lips were partly opened, and he kissed first the top, then the bottom, slowly sucking on my lip. His fingers stroked at the sides of my head as he still held my face with his hand. Slowly, his hand moved from my face and traveled down the column of my neck. As he caressed me his kiss became deeper with his tongue moving into my mouth, exploring. The tension seemed to leave my body then.

He pulled his lips from mine, and he kissed my cheeks. He spoke to me in words so soft and sweet, told me of how I smelled just as sweet as he knew I would, of how soft and smooth my skin was. I felt his fingers in my hair as he pulled my head back gently and kissed my bare neck. He moaned then, and that deep masculine sound caused butterflies to flutter in my tummy, and my clit responded to the primal message his moan had carried. He held my head there, firmly as he pushed his groin against me. The firmness of his cock pressing right against my hip was undeniable. I could not lie still and I pushed back, my desire becoming my focus. 

He stood up, leaving me to writhe there on the bed in his ties. The metal of the cuffs was biting into my wrists. One by one he opened them and replaced them with soft leather cuffs, telling me how this would make me more comfortable. Then I felt him move off the bed, the silence stretched. Softly I spoke, "where are you?" He answered me immediately, "I'm here, watching you. Your body is so perfect." 

He came closer to me and I felt his breath on my face just before I felt his lips against mine again. How I loved the feel of his lips. He kissed me passionately before pulling back, leaving me wanting more and straining toward him. "Such a greedy girl." He said, and I could hear a grin in his voice, "You've been waiting your whole life for this, haven't you?" As he asked I realized he was right, this was what had always been missing, this feeling of helplessness, of not being in control, not even of my own body. Somehow I liked being there for him, exactly as he wanted me. I could feel him watching me and all I cared about was that he find me attractive, that he wouldn't suddenly change his mind, decide I wasn't enough. His hands caressed the sides of my breast slowly circling the underside. At first, his touch there caused me to jerk as if I had been shocked. I started quivering again as my nipples puckered into hard little pebbles of flesh. "You like that don't you?" All I could do was whimper; I couldn't find a voice to respond with. His thumbs slowly ran over them, giving me more pleasure than I thought possible. He captured my left nipple in his mouth and sucked softly, his tongue lapping at the tip, and then gently nipping it with his teeth. I arched my back into him, my body hungry and responding to the sexual fire he was building inside me. "Oh yes," I whispered. 

"I can smell you", he said to me as he rolled my nipples in his fingers.

"I can smell your desire. I don't know how long I'll be able to resist." His voice was deeper now, and I knew I wasn't the only one being turned on here.

"Ask me to pinch your nipple." He growled, "I want to hear you ask me to please pinch your nipple."

The sound of his voice made me wild. I wanted to feel so much more. His touch was consuming me. I wanted to give him what he wanted, what he needed. Suddenly I would have done anything he asked. With a choked cry I groaned, "Please pinch it". He moaned low as he squeezed my nipple and pulled causing red hot fire to course through my body. I gasped and moved. I arched my back and bucked my hips up towards him. It was exquisite pain. Then suddenly he released it. I cried out, I couldn't handle the sudden throb. He buried his head against my chest and sucked it, soothing it. I was gasping. I already knew I needed the touch of this man. I knew that before he came, I knew that when I blinded myself and bound myself to the bed in preparation of him. I needed him. I had always needed him.

He lifted his mouth from my breast and tenderly kissed my mouth.

"Your skin is so tender so sensitive. I like that. Your body responds so perfectly to me, I will own it, I will control when you come and how". 

I felt him pull my arms tighter over my head, tightening my torso, stretching me. Next, I felt him press his sweet lips to each of my nipples. His hands began to touch me, fleetingly, skipping from place to place so I never knew where they would land next. 

My body went on and on. His hands caressed me all over. I felt them run gently up the front of my thighs and then between them. I felt his thumb as he used the very tip to gently stroke the outside of my pussy lips, I groaned with need and he began to gently rub my clit. He lay with his body against mine and pressed my head against him, speaking soft words to me. I heard him but I couldn't understand what he said to me.

His fingers expertly stroked against my clit until it was as if I was connected to a string and he was gently reeling it in. When I whimpered and bucked the rhythm didn't change; the reeling continued, slow and steady. I heard myself cry out as if from a distance; the cry sounded so anguished, almost angry and it matched the furious bucking of my hips as I tried to reach the exquisite contractions of release.

"Beg me" he said, his voice hoarse now with desire, "Beg me to let you come"

I was almost in tears as I begged him, I had never felt such need, the universe had shrunk to his fingers and what they were doing to me. Suddenly his fingers pushed inside me, into my wetness, all the way to the deepest part of me. I screamed as one of his fingers curled forward, finding my G spot, the other still pushing deep within me. When his thumb joined in, stroking my clit to the rhythm of his thrusts, my orgasm hit me like a thunderclap. I saw bright lights behind my eyes as the universe exploded around me. I was everywhere at once, a part of all things, it was incredible. 

He lay beside me and held me as slowly my breathing returned to normal. He swept away the damp hair clinging to my face. I lay there so very still, so very aware of him.

I felt his lips kiss my cheek. "How do you feel?" he whispered to me.

"Alive," I whispered back.

He laughed softly, "Good" he said, "I'd hate to have killed you before I even took my clothes off"

I felt his weight lift off the bed, and heard clothes rustling and zips moving as he undressed. When he lay back next to me I could feel his warm skin against mine for the first time, could feel the hair on his chest, and on his arm as he brushed it slowly over my body. When he kissed me again there was a new depth to it, for the first time I could feel his desire as well as my own, his passion mounted and his kiss grew rougher, dragging moans of desire from deep in my throat, as my body responded to him again. Suddenly his mouth vanished and his body disappeared, only to reappear as he straddled me, his legs on my shoulders. His order when it came sounded as desperate as mine had been, and I felt the power that I too held, the power of desire.

"Take me in your mouth" he demanded, and his voice was thick with need, rough with passion.

I opened my mouth, eager to obey. Reaching forward with my tongue extended; I found the silky skin at the base of his shaft. Stretching my neck I slowly licked up the length of him, enjoying the knowledge that now he would have to wait as he had made me wait. I reached the tip of his cock, and rolled my tongue around his head, when I found the eye and gently probed inside it with the tip of my tongue; he made a sound which must have been heard since earliest man, totally primitive.

I rolled my tongue around some more, lubricating him with my saliva, so that when I pulled back, then pushed forward to slide him into my mouth, he slid past my lips easily, pushing back against my tongue as my warm mouth enveloped him. I began moving up and down his long cock with my mouth, licking inside with my tongue as my lips formed a tight circle around him. I allowed my bottom teeth to ever so gently drag up the underside of his shaft as my tongue wrapped round the tip, and my lips sucked on him. "oh god" he groaned, letting me know I was pleasing him, if my mouth hadn't been so full of him I would have grinned so great was my pleasure at controlling him, even for this brief time. He began to push in rhythm with me, my tongue caressing as my lips sucked, my teeth occasionally grazing the tip of him as he pulled almost fully out, only to be sucked back into the wetness of my mouth. Suddenly he pulled out of me, and I felt him turn around, his cock back at my lips, but now his tongue pushed my lips open and I felt him lick the small nub of my clit.

I gasped at his warm touch and as I did he thrust himself back into my mouth, hard, all the way to the back of my throat. His tongue encircled my clit, then drew it into his mouth, sucking on it the same way I was his cock. I could feel my orgasm building, and was suddenly scared I would bite him or hurt him somehow, but my hips bucked up to meet him, and as I gave myself over to the explosions inside me I licked and sucked him as deep as I could, at one point gasping so deeply that I felt him slide down into my throat, felt him push down past my larynx as I groaned against his cock. 

Suddenly he pulled out of my mouth again, my tongue desperately following him, straining for one more taste of him.

"God, where did you learn to do that?" he asked his mouth suddenly next to my ear again.

I felt inordinately proud that I had pleased him, that I had been able to give him some measure of the pleasure he had given me. His body pressed down on me now, I could feel his cock pressed against my smooth mound, and strained my hips up, wanting him inside me more than I had ever wanted anything. He began to slowly rub the length of himself back and forward over the lips of my pussy, pressing on my clit, god I was going to come again! But before I could tip over the edge, he stopped, and suddenly I felt him untying the bonds holding my ankles, and then rolling me over onto my stomach, my arms now stretched out in front of me.

"You have a gorgeous back" he said, as he slowly dragged his nails from my neck all the way down to my ass, setting my spine tingling, sending shocks of electricity through my whole body.

"And a really gorgeous ass" he said as he suddenly bit it, making me squeal with shock. He moved up my back, alternatively dragging his teeth, then slowly biting, all the individual bones in my back, all the way up to my neck, where he bit the soft joint between my neck and shoulder. There was pain, but it was so intrinsic to the pleasure that I no longer noticed, all I felt was sensation, more sensation than my body could withstand. Entirely of its own volition it arched back against him, pushing my buttocks towards his penis, wanting to feel it inside me. His weight came down against me, pinning me to my bed, as one hand snaked round to savagely twist my nipple, and the other snaked up into my hair, pulling my head back, stretching my neck to its fullest as he ordered me to be still.

"Stay still and I'll let you come again" he promised "stay still and I'll come inside you, you'll feel my hot spunk deep inside you, but if you move, you'll be punished"

His voice was harder now, rougher, much more commanding, but instead of frightening me as it would have half an hour ago, now it only fuelled my need. I was on fire, I had to feel him pushing into me, I wanted him to fuck me harder than I had ever been fucked in my life, I didn't feel like I would ever be able to get enough of this stranger.

He lifted himself off of my back, and there he was, the head of his cock pushing at the entrance to my sex. He slid inside of me, it seemed like millimeters at a time, sooo slowly, so exquisitely, my body reacted on its own, pushing back, gripping him inside me. Immediately he pulled out, making me cry out with the pain of losing him inside me.

"I warned you not to move" he growled, and suddenly he slapped my bare ass, hard. 

"What are you doing?" I cried, not understanding how he could be so passionate one minute, so cruel the next. 

"I told you not to move" he repeated, as his open hand slapped me again. 

"I couldn't help it" I cried as his hand struck me a third time, then a fourth. 

"I wanted you so much" I sobbed, as his hand hit me again, my ass was on fire from his slaps, and I wanted to explain, to make him stop. "I just wanted you!"




He Called Again Last Night



Suddenly his voice was gentle in my ear again, "Ok baby, you didn't know, you still have a lot to learn." He moved down my back, his tongue gently licking where he had hurt me, soothing the pain with his tongue and his kisses. 

"Now this time, don't move" he repeated "If you want something from me, then ask nicely, and I'll give it to you, but you have to be a good girl."

I wanted to tell him to get off me, I had never felt so humiliated and abused, and yet, the tender skin was responding to his caresses, the sensations all the more heightened by being sensitive from the pain. His tongue slowly moved over both my ass cheeks, then slowly began its ascent up my spine again.

"Oh please" I heard myself saying from a long way away. "Please fuck me"

His tongue was on my neck now, and he nibbled the skin there as he pushed himself back inside me. "I don't know" he teased "how much do you want it? How much do you want to come?" as he questioned me he began again his slow slide inside me.

"God" I screamed, "Please, I need you now!" 

"Since you asked so nicely" he whispered, and then with no further warning, he thrust his full length into me, then immediately pulled back and rammed it in again, even harder. I screamed again, this time with pleasure as my muscles contracted around him. 

" You can come now baby" he said as he thrust again " Come for me NOW" and he thrust even further, harder, as I exploded around him, screaming my joy to the heavens as the fiercest orgasm of my life overtook me. 

His hand twisted my nipple, he cried out my name "Come for me baby, come now" and he kept going, faster harder, stretching my orgasm for what seemed an eternity, until I heard him groan and knew he was coming too, I pushed back, stretching his orgasm the way he had mine, the two of us crying out together as I felt his heat spurt deep inside me, causing my muscles to contract again, making him yell as he reached the end of his climax.

Slowly the world came together again, the two of us panting together as our bodies came back to earth. He kissed my neck, gentle again, then my shoulder as he rolled to one side taking his weight off me. His fingers stroked my face, pushed back my hair to kiss my mouth, gentle again, full of love.

"I knew it had to be you" he sighed, "you need what I need, perfect synchronicity."

I sighed with a contentment I had never dreamed was possible, he was right, I needed this, to be mastered, I had just never met anyone strong enough, or worthy enough before.

"You are mine now" he whispered as he kissed me again "as I am yours" 

"Yes" I agreed, knowing nothing would ever be the same.

Slowly he undid the restraints at my wrists, but when I reached up to the blindfold, he stayed my hand. "Leave it" he said, and I felt him leave the bed, heard the rustling of his clothes as he dressed.

He bent over me, kissing my lips, my cheeks, "I'll phone you" he said, and he left.



He Called Her Janice



How and when did it begin? Well, on reflection, it began while taking notice of my mom Janice doing housework. This was a few months after dad left. What had for years been mundane, barely on my radar, suddenly became exciting, watching her bend over in a short house dress, or squat down to dust. It pains me to admit this, but I've developed a hard-on for my own mother. It disturbs me, instills in me a sense of guilt and shame. Nineteen-year old, handsome guys like me (so I've been told) who do okay with the ladies aren't supposed to harbor erotic designs on their forty-something year old mothers. Yet I do. I'm perplexed, caught in a quandary, turned on by the very thing that I find repulsive. I'm still in the closet, keeping my Jones for mom to myself. No one knows, not friends, not acquaintances—and definitely not my mom. 

Of course, it's no secret to me. Feelings are feelings and I can no longer ignore mine. I tried, boy did I try, forcing myself into states of denial. Invariably, those states crumbled like stale cookies. So I've accepted it, grudgingly, but I've accepted it. That's why on this Saturday morning, mom's usual chore time, I'm crouched at the top of the stairs half hidden by a wall, peeking through the banister at mom going about her work wearing nothing more than an oversized T-shirt, bra and panties. The shirt falls to the middle of her plump but solid thighs. She's vacuuming the living room carpet, oblivious to me watching her. As usual, I'm enjoying the show, getting off watching her bend over far enough to expose her red laced panties stretched over her luscious bubble butt. Mom's got nice boobs, too, but being a leg man, I can't help but drool at the sight of mom's sexy extremities, her skin glowing tawny and bright, her calves and thighs an anatomical masterpiece of shapely female muscle. Shoving my hand inside my sweat pants, I begin to masturbate. In seconds, my cock is fully erect. My groans and heavy breathing go unheard, muffled by the plangent roar of the vacuum cleaner. Before mom is even finished, I duck into the bathroom, plop myself on the toilet and finish what I started. 

I play out this routine in successive weeks, variations on the same theme. Sometimes mom is vacuuming. Other times she's doing the dishes or dusting or padding into the kitchen in her short, see-through nightie to grab an evening snack. Once content just to look, my imagination takes a kinky turn, gets me thinking about crossing that deep crevasse between fantasy and reality. Scenarios have me fucking her anywhere and everywhere, from the shower to the backseat of my car, while she moans with uninhibited pleasure. That lyric from Green Day's "Basket Case" plays in my head—"sometimes I give myself the creeps." Some would call me sick and perverted, deviant at the very least. Part of me feels compelled to make a move, tell her how I feel and see what happens. The other part tells me to seek help. But what help is even available for a would-be motherfucker? ******

I can't date the precise moment when feelings for my son Rick took an unexpected and disturbing turn. I can say it was a few months after my divorce from his dad became final. We had been married close to twenty years, fifteen of those years not so good; the last five sexless and loveless. Now, almost a year later, I find myself fantasizing about engaging in unspeakable acts with my own son. He's a good looking young man to be sure, strong and well built, a brown haired version of blond, big wave surfer Laird Hamilton. Always athletic, he played lacrosse and football in high school, and now plays lacrosse for his college team. Before my divorce, I could talk objectively about Rick's good looks like any "normal" parent could. I can't do that now without seeing the disgusting, perverted images that go with it—the two of us doing what mother and son ought not to do. This is just a stage you're going through, a traumatic reaction to your divorce; it will pass, I tell myself. Who am I kidding? Far from passing, my urges become more palpable by the day. I'm experiencing firsthand the weirdly irresistible allure of taboo relationships, something I read about years ago. I can't help but wonder if Rick is thinking what I've been thinking. Perhaps it's my imagination, but I'd swear I've caught him catching glimpses of me in various stages of undress. And I'll have to admit that traipsing around the house like that gives me a rush, makes me feel sexy. If he's embarrassed, he hasn't let on, hasn't complained. In fact, I suspect he might even enjoy it. 

******

"Rick, can you get my back?" mom asks. It is the third weekend after Memorial Day, and mom and I are relaxing on chaise lounges by our development's Olympic sized community swimming pool. This is the first really hot day of the summer, and people are out in force, most of them congregated on the surrounding stone patios. Not us. We pick a relatively isolated spot on the grass, a good distance away from most of them. 

"Sure mom, no problem," I say, as she hands me a bottle of number 15 Coppertone. She sits on the edge of the chaise, her long, light brown hair tied in back. She grew it out after she and dad separated, her attempt to look more youthful, more "marketable," I would guess. Mom sports a string black bikini, unlike most women her age here who wear a one piece. I apply the lotion in circles over her back, breathing in the sweet scent of her natural aroma mixed with the lotion. 

"You can get my legs too if you'd like," she says. She looks up at me and smiles, as if daring me to do something naughty. If she wasn't my mom, she'd simply be an older woman named Janice, one of my many MLIF fantasy chicks. She still fits that special genre, but the fact than I'm her offspring changes the equation, adds the titillation of taboo to the entire exercise. "I can do my own legs if you feel uncomfortable," she adds, sensing my reservation. 

"No, I can do it," I insist, unable to resist the opportunity of running my hands over her shapely gams. She lies on her stomach, and I go to work. Starting at her Achilles heels, I move up to her plump calves, past her knees and then up to her thick shapely thighs. "You okay back there?" she asks.

"Sure. Why?"

"I don't know, you're breathing kind of heavy, like you're running for lacrosse practice or something."

I knew I was becoming aroused, but didn't realize that my breathing had picked up in response. "Quite all right, mom." 

"Okay, honey, just checking." Her head, turned sideways, rests on her hands. "I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am." Probably more, I think, but don't say it. 

"Anything I can do to help." My fingers linger at the tops of her thighs, messaging her smooth, supple skin. Then they creep upward toward her butt, the sort of butt you'd like to sink your teeth into. Gingerly, I slip my fingertips under the fabric of her bikini bottom. 

Mom picks her head up. "Geez, Rick, do you think I need it there too?" I jerk back. Giggling, she says, "No, that's okay if you think the sun will burn my big derriere through the cloth." 

I resume, but then stop abruptly again upon hearing this: "Hey Rick, are you licensed for what you're doing?" I look up and see a bare-chested, smirking Tom Bennett, beach towel slung around his thick neck, lounge chair tucked under his arm, maroon swim trunks pulled high above his navel. He's around mom's age and lives nearby. Before his own divorce, he and his wife Alice double dated with my parents. Since then, he has made no bones about his interest in mom, an interest that has thus far gone unrequited.

I scowl, letting him know I'm none too pleased at his crude attempt at humor. 

"Hey, just kidding," Tom says, rubbing his hand over his shiny bald pate. "No offense." 

Mom sits up and turns around. "Oh, hi Tom. Rick was just applying some sun block in those hard to reach places."

"So I noticed." He shoots me a devilish look and winks. "I could do the same thing, you know. Alice used to call me magic hands." Mom looks at me and rolls her eyes. Still, he reaches for the Coppertone. "Here, let me show you what I mean."

Mom bends forward and blocks his arm. "Actually, Rick's hands feel kind of magical too. Thanks but no thanks."

"Okay, if that's the way you want it," Tom says, his strained smile looking every bit like camouflage to hide the hurt of rejection. "Well, if not that, then let me take you to dinner tonight. Sun and water can make one mighty hungry." 

Mom shakes her head. "Thanks, Tom, but I'm kind of busy. Perhaps some other time."

His smile morphs into a pout. "Okay, I can take a hint." Then he turns to me and says, "No disrespect, but I envy you your hands." 

As he starts to move on, I ball my hands into fists and get up to confront him. "Get back here, he's not worth it," mom says, grabbing my arm. "Alice used to tell me what a jerk she married but I never really saw it until after she left him. Besides, even if I liked him as a person, I couldn't get past his sloppy, flabby appearance, his pot belly and that double chin. And he wonders why I won't go out with him. What a creep."

"And I guess his being bald doesn't help." Mom nods and laughs. 

We stretch out, soak up the sun's warm, soothing rays and delve into our reading material. For me, it is one of the many books about Lance Armstrong. Mom, a "serious" reader of fiction, devours a short story collection by Joyce Carol Oates. I steal glimpses of her, her boobs hanging half out, her fabulous legs, of course, and her smooth skin glistening in the bright sun. We stop to take a brief dip in the pool, crowded and noisy, mostly with kids splashing each other. Shortly after returning to our spot, I say, "Do you really think my hands feel magical?" 

She looks up from her book and smiles. "They did about a half hour ago when you were applying sunscreen. And I'd say it's about time for another application," she says, handing me the bottle. "And this time you can do my front." She puts her book aside and stays on her back. I kneel beside her and splash a few drops on my hand. Before starting, I check to see who might be looking. After all, it's my mom I'm doing this for, not a girl my own age. Seeing the coast is clear, I begin to apply the lotion. "Oh my, that's very nice," mom says, barely above a whisper. My hand circles her chest, then dips below her cleavage. I'm expecting her to blow the stop whistle. But she doesn't, not even when my fingers slip under her top and reach her nipples. "Oh my, yes, yes, like that," she groans. "That feels so good. You do indeed possess magical hands." And a throbbing hard-on as well, though I do my best to keep that to myself. 

She makes a half turn and says, "Now you can do my back again if you'd like."

"Of course," I say, "and let's hope Tom Bennett keeps his distance." 

"Yeah, that would be nice." She turns over and I repeat what I did last time—starting at her ankles and proceeding "due north," up her legs and then to her butt. "Ooooo, you're so good, Rick honey," mom moans. "Tom envies you your hands? I envy you you're girlfriends." 

Soon, we're back to our books. Well, mom is. Me, I'm all but exploding with desire and can no longer concentrate. I slip on my ear buds, try to lose myself in the music. More folks from the community file in and surround our space, placing their chairs and loungers just a few yards away, nixing another go around with mom. The music helps but not much. What I need is to relieve myself and fast. And just as I'm about to hop into the changing room expressly for that purpose, mom says, "Well, I've had enough sun for one day. How about you?" 

******

My only refuge right now is in the master bathroom. Here, hidden under the sink is where I keep my glass dildoe. It's either this or doing something that I still can't comfortably reconcile, propositioning my own son. Had we been the only ones at the pool today, I swear, I might have spread my legs, grabbed his dick and shoved it inside me. Okay, maybe not, but that's how I felt, how I feel right this second as I sit on the edge of the tub with my glass rod, preparing to get myself off. My skin still tingles from the deft touch of Rick's oily, Coppertone stained hands. He was excited too. I sensed it. More than sensed it, I felt it. More than felt it, I saw it, saw the bulge under his wet swim trunks. I groped for something to say, something on the subtle side, something that would let him know I'm interested without being too obvious. But nothing appropriate came. So, other than expressing joy from his handiwork, I kept my mouth shut. But how do you make appropriate comments about something so inappropriate like incest? The answer is you don't, not unless you're prepared to purge yourself of the sort of stigma attributed to that kind of intimate relationship. 

I shake my head and almost laugh at the absurdity of all this—all this intellectualizing and analyzing while I'm sitting here horny as hell, my nipples rock hard, my pussy oozing liquid, my head dizzy with thoughts of Rick between my meaty thighs, pile-driving his young cock into me like I imagine he could. Oh, if it were only thus—tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. But wishing alone gets you nowhere. So what am I waiting for? If he recoils in horror, I could always make a joke out of it: "Rick, relax, I'm only kidding."

I put the dildoe away. Then I fluff my big, wavy hair before letting it fall to the middle of my back. Then I turn toward the full length mirror on the door. Not bad for forty-three if I do say so myself. My eyes, green and still sharp, sparkle. A few wrinkles line my face. Not many, though; I could pass for a few years younger. My boobs still look good, firm and high, devoid so far of middle-age sag. My tummy, though no longer flat as the proverbial pancake, is free from those spare tires I see on some women and men my age. My legs: Rick must love them because I catch him leering at them all the time. Most men do. They're large, though solid and shapely for the most part, with just a smidgen of cellulite in the backs of my thighs. My peculiar DNA helps, plus my treadmill work and thrice weekly power walks. 

"Okay, enough procrastinating," I whisper. "Here goes, it's now or never." I slip on my silk, blue mini kimono. That's all I'm wearing as I emerge from the bathroom into my room and then step softly down the bare wood hallway toward the staircase. Rick, lounging on the sofa watching TV in shorts and a T-shirt, looks up. He says nothing, just stares. From that angle, I know he can see at least to the upper part of my thighs, maybe further. He continues to stare as I make my way down the steps. 

Finally, he says, "Wow, mom. You look...incredible."

"Do I wow you, Rick?" He nods, continues to look me over. "That's great, because I'm yours if you want me." I stand in front of him and open my kimono.

"I want you," he says. "I wanted you at the pool today. I've wanted you ever since dad left." He clicks off the TV, stands up and embraces me. I drop my kimono to the floor and then we start to kiss. Of course, I've kissed my son before, but never like this, never with the kind of erotic passion that his dad and I once shared. He bends down and starts sucking on my nipples. Jolts of electricity shoot through me. The air around me sizzles; the room spins. This is outrageous. Perverted. WRONG! But I can't stop. Don't want to stop. 

The room spins faster. "I need to sit down before I fall down," I tell him. 

"I've got you, Janice," he says as he eases me on to the soft cushions of the sofa. Does he realize he just called me Janice instead of mom? I'm not sure, but it excites me even more. In seconds, he throws off his clothes and then sits beside me. "You smell really good, like sun and chlorine and whatever you're wearing," he says. I reach down to stroke my throbbing pussy, and he says, "Here, let me do that." So I lean back against the back of the sofa and let him. He kisses me while he rubs his fingers inside my cunt, now deluged with my juices. The next thing I know, he's on his knees with his head between my legs, sucking my pussy and stabbing his tongue furiously across my swollen clit. I pick my head up in an attempt to kiss him, to no avail. Dizzy from his tongue lashing, I collapse back down and close my eyes in total surrender, a willing captive of my own son. 

"Oh my god," I cry out as my climax approaches, a tsunami of a climax that crashes over me, sending my brain into a tailspin. Bereft of superlatives, I embrace the pure, raw sensation of it, including something I didn't anticipate—darkness. 

"Janice, are you okay? Janice, wake up!" His voice sounds like it's coming from some distant, foggy place. My eyes flutter open. Then I sit up and shake my head. "I...what happened?"

"You must have blacked out for a few seconds. That's a good sign, I guess." Rick shrugs and grins. 

I reach out and wrap a hand around his stiff cock. "I want you in me, Rick. If I pass out again, so be it. But I need to have you in me."

He accommodates me. Oh, does he ever! Only rarely does fantasy beget reality. Exceptions are few, and right now I'm a living, breathing, fucking exception. Rick, topside, alternates between kissing me and sucking on my boobs as his cock works its magic, thrusting and plunging, fast and shallow one second, slow and deep the next. I struggle to stay conscious—the room is spinning again. It helps when we change positions, gives the blood a chance to rush back into my head. He has me around the waist and under my butt, lifting me up and down, thrusting his pelvis into me. Sweat trickles down my face. My skin's on fire. My boobs bounce. My pussy pulsates and tingles. My eyes stay half closed, unfocused. 

He's almost there. I know, because of the rhythm of his body, his accelerated thrusts and his breathing which picks up speed by the second. He starts to pull out, apparently apprehensive about shooting inside me unprotected. "It's okay, baby," I assure him, "you can come inside me. I'm on the pill." And so he does, his body heaving, his voice reduced to groans and sighs—the universal language of coital pleasure, the same language that speaks to me seconds later. This time I don't pass out. But I'm close, so close. 

We cuddle on the sofa. "I love you, mom," he whispers.

"So it's back to mom now." I brush away a lock of his hair and kiss his forehead. "What happened to Janice?"

He looks confused. "Did I call you that?"

"You sure did. But don't feel bad. I thought it was cute, thought it enhanced the whole thing." 

"Well, even though you're the sexiest woman I've ever been with, I'd feel more comfortable calling you mom."

"That's quite all right. Except when we do this. Then can you call me Janice?"

"After what you just did for me, I'll call you anything you'd like." 

******

From mom to Janice and back again. We both found this to be a weird juxtaposition, one that neither one of us could fully reconcile. In bed (metaphorically speaking because where we made love varied from week to week), she was Janice, my lover. Out of bed, the dynamic changed, reverted back to what it was before that day on the sofa. The sex was great, but so was the feeling that what we were doing wasn't kosher. We tried to rationalize it, tried to convince ourselves it was okay. But, being slaves to society's norms, we could never fully erase the feeling of guilt that hung over us like a dark cloud. 

Come fall, mom finally met a nice guy, one that fulfilled her on several levels. Her timing couldn't have been better, for around the same time, I stopped playing the field and got "serious" with someone myself, a girl I met through friends. That's when we stopped being lovers. 

Sure, we both miss the thrill, the erotic foreplay, the over-the-top orgasms. Of course, I haven't told my girlfriend Patty that she's going with an ex-motherfucker. But one time during our love making, I dropped a hint, calling her Janice in the throes of my passion. "Do I look like your fucking mother?" she asked indignantly. I couldn't help but laugh.



He  Calls Me His Baby Girl



This is our first story and loosely based on our own role playing experiences. All the characters are over 18 

Our appreciation and thanks to Roman for the editing. 





All I can think about is you and how that text message reads:

"I want you, my dirty little slutty princess to be daddy's little cum slut for the night". 

I was trying not to blush while reading this at work in between taking messages and running errands for the boss. Not one of the nicest looking guys to work for. I'm pretty sure he undresses me every morning with those beady little brown eyes of his that seem to follow me where ever I go. I could leave, but after five years I have worked my way up to Company Secretary at one of the top law firms in the city. The truth is that it has lots of perks. The corporate events are always a highlight and to be said

"They are the best perks literally of the job."

I sometimes think that my boss has X -Ray vision because of the smile that creeps over his face. Well I can't actually blame him, I like to think that I am a very voluptuous woman. I dress every day in erotic thigh-hi silk stockings under a firm fitting pencil pleat skirt, with killer black heels, a lacy bra and matching panties, and a silk blouse that doesn't really hide the fact that the text messages from my you, my boyfriend. They always get me aroused to the point that the blouse falls to the shape of two distinct hard as bullets pair of nipples, and just like magic, the boss never seems to miss the show. You can guarantee within moments of my arousal I am messaged into his office to take a memo for him.

Roger Dodger as he is commonly known amongst the ladies in the wash room. His hands never seem to surface above the desk, playing with his bat and ball no doubt. So today, thankfully, he was out to lunch considering what I was wearing. It was a figure hugging low cut blouse which exposed firm round D-cup tits that jiggle when I walk. It makes most men stop in their tracks hoping and wishing them to pop out of my black opened cup bra that just holds my perfect breasts in place making them look very perky. Just one of my guilty pleasures under my clothing. With the message received from my boyfriend it would have left nothing for Roger's imagination. 

We've been together for nearly fifteen months. I think we had sex within minutes of meeting, it was the hottest, most fiery lustful mind-blowing quickie ever, as we took the lifts to the next floor to the VIP washrooms to finish off what we started. Luckily enough we composed ourselves just as the elevator doors opened, mind you I think somehow the hold button was pushed or just maybe one of us accidentally pressed our bodies against it. The sex had been way too hot for just a minute quickie, best cooperate fuck ever. 

I remember you suggesting one night during a romantic dinner the idea of role play.

"How about fantasy" you said.

"And what would be your fantasy be?" I asked.

"Well," you began "how about daddy/daughter role play?"

With in seconds my pussy started to twitch. The wetness and throbbing between my legs made it obvious that my body was agreeing with the idea before it had even registered with the rest of me.

Well I could tell from the excitement in your voice that it was something that you would really like to try.

"Why not. That would be so hot and sexy" I said.

We kissed softly and deeply just as the waiter brought out our desserts. Secretly it is something I have been longing to do. The idea of being a daddy's girl for the night was rather hot and exciting and very sexy. To act like a young girl, and feel your warm big hands over my body. To act like a little girl for you. God how sexy is that I thought! 

A few months had passed and I hadn't even given it thought until today. Startled by my phone saying I had a text message. It read:

"Tell me princess, tell daddy what you want to do to me. I'm your daddy for the night and you are daddy's baby girl".

In my text back I wrote:

"I have been thinking about all the things you have said that you wanted to do to me Daddy I am so curious after you whispered it to me. That night after our romantic dinner out when I was sitting on your lap and I was very sleepy. I remembered the words that you spoke as you stroked my long brown hair. I remembered you said you wanted to lick me and fuck me and do all sorts of naughty daddy things to me".

Hitting "SEND" I started on the next part of the text message.

"Ohhh daddy, just thinking about it is completely turning me on. I have never done these sort of things before daddy". 

'There. I though, 'that should put a smile on your face

After a few minutes and checking my phone still no response.

'Well' I thought 'this next text will get those juices flowing.

I wrote:

"My hands are drifting in between my panties and I'm slowly fingering myself. I'm imagining how it would feel to have you licking my slit and having your big, strong fingers spreading my soft pink lips apart. Ohhh daddy. I can feel your tongue touching me as your fingers start to fuck me."

I hit "SEND"

'Hmmm' I thought, my arousal heightening as I fantasies about the encounter.

A few minutes later and still no response.

Knowing you you've been called into a meeting and probably trying to hide a semi-hard cock from the viewing eyes of his work colleagues. The rest of the day couldn't have passed any slower, so I decided I would pick up a gift for us both on the way home from work.

On the way home I pass a lingerie shop and I'll take any excuse to stop at my favourite store. I found what I was looking for pretty quick, a cute, silk baby doll nightie. I'd look a perfect daddy's little girl, that would add to our little game that I had planned. If I wear my hair in pigtails that will really set the scene.

I heard you come in from work and it was late, I quietly slipped out of bed and wonder down the stairs and into the lounge room. I know you always watch the television until very late. As I slowly walk up to you, the light from the TV was making my baby doll nighty almost see through. I was clear that I was wearing no panties and that my nice round ass silhouetted against the light. My freshly shaven silky pussy seemed to glisten, my hair tied back into pigtails. I really looked like a daddy's girl.

Softly I giggled, just like a school girl. As you start to look up all there was to see were two firm pink nipples poking through impressively against the thin fabric, along with firm round tits which you couldn't miss.

"Hello pumpkin" you say as you hold out your hand and motion me to sit on the couch. "Can't you sleep my baby girl?"

"I need some loving from my daddy" I said as you watch me sit on the couch and cuddle up next to you. 

You plant a kiss to the top of my head. My hair smelling of vanilla and sandalwood which was divine. As you take a breath in the scent makes you moan. The fact that he knew tonight was the night that your fantasy of daddy role play was coming true turns you on even more. I can see your cock starting to grow in your pants. 

I slowly place a hand in your lap, on the hard bulge.

"Ohh daddy, What's that? It feels kind of big and firm and warm". I said with a giggle and a naughty grin.

I look up at you, knowing that's this little girl talk would turn you on in our game of role play. 

As you look into my eyes I could tell that you had received the text messages and that our night was ready to begin. 

"It's a special toy just for you baby girl but it's our little secret".

"I like secrets daddy." I spoke in a child like voice.

"I know you do pumpkin." 

"When can I play daddy?" My eyes wide with excitement.

"All in good time my sweet baby girl. You have some toys of your own that daddy would like to play with as well. Will that be okay Baby girl?"

"Ohh why yes daddy" acting more like a child as the excitement grew from the way we were talking to each other.

I'm making you feel like a naughty daddy who is just about to do something that's so taboo and so naughty but ever so sexy. 

You place your fingers under my chin to make me look at you. You lower your lips to mine and began to slowly suck on my lower lip, slipping your tongue in between my lips briefly. I hear and feel you moan.

"Ohhh daddy's baby girl."

It makes me feel so good, hearing those words whispered to me. 

"My sweet baby girl." You begin in a daddy kind of soft but loving way "I think it would be better if we go into the bedroom".

I can see your cock is now twice the size it was before and looks in need of attention

"Pumpkin, what if daddy turns off the TV and takes you to bed and play a game with you. Is that okay with you my darling baby girl?"

I nodded at you in a child-like manner. You take my hand and we walk hand in hand back to the bedroom.

"Ohh daddy, this will be so good having you in bed with me your body next to mine. Can you kiss me like before daddy?"

It had felt so good having your warm tongue in my mouth. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy. I look at you sweetly just like a child would. 

"If you are a good little girl daddy will kiss you more and play some fun bedtime games"

I clapped my hands together just like a little girl and smiled.

"Ohh yes please Daddy, your kisses are so playful."

"Good that settles that" with a firm father sound to his voice, "What if daddy removes your nighty so it doesn't get into the way of all the games we are about to play?" 

Grabbing the bottom of the nightie he lifts it up over my nice tight ass, his fingers brushing against it. He continued to push it up over my huge firm round tits and then puling it up and over my head and shoulders. 

"That's better. You are the most sexiest baby girl ever, Daddy loves you."

Walking and stopping half way to the bed he slowly sank to his knees, stopping ever so briefly to flick his tongue over my nipples. I softly start giggling and moaning. 

"Mmm I like this game daddy". 

As I look into his eyes and he has a twinkle in his eyes and a mischievous grin. 

"I love you baby girl." he said. "Daddy is going to start to play this game with you so stay as you are baby girl."

Dipping his head between my legs he slowly licked between my pussy lips.

"Ohh pumpkin! What a beautiful sight. Your freshly shaved hairless pussy is so smooth and bald and I can see how swollen your pussy lips are, extra sensitive as well. You are giving daddy such a hard on."

I stood there like a good baby girl while he spent many minutes eating my bald, wet, smooth pussy . 

"Ohh fuck you taste so good baby girl."

He held me and cradled me in your arms, scooping me up and carrying me to the bed in the centre of the room. I look into his eyes and gaze deeply into them, thinking daddy's little girl is about to make up for lost time. All those months that I have been craving this night from the first time he mentioned it.

Laying flat out on the bed raised on one elbow I watch as he undresses. Suddenly I felt the wetness between my legs grow as I watch his huge cock spring from his boxers. Keeping up the game as a daddy's girl I couldn't help but giggle just like a little girl.

"Ohh daddy your toy looks so good."

"It's all for you baby girl", He replied.

"Mmmmmmmm. Thank you daddy."

"Daddy wants to start this game off by slowly teasing your clit."

He began slowly moving his fingers around the collection of wet juices, running his finger up and down my slit. 

"You are so wet for your daddy. Daddy likes it when you are so wet for him. It makes his toy so hard for you".

Moving his fingers up to my clit, he softly rubbed in little circles. Softly his baby girl moans. 

"Ohh daddy, that feels so good." 

"You like that don't you pumpkin?" 

"Ohh yes daddy" don't stop... Please dont stop." 

I started to slightly rock my hips against his talented fingers. 

"Mmmm..... Oh yes daddy it feels so damn good, but I need more daddy. I want more!" 

His strong hands reach up to my swollen tits and softly caress them, he runs his thumb over my tight hard firm nipples making me moan even more.

"Ohhh fuck it feels so good."

He kept massaging my tits as his strong hands continued to rub my pussy slowly up and down. He gently pushes in two fingers, circling slowly as they begin to plunge in and out of my dripping pussy. His thumb starts rubbing around my very swollen clit making me quiver with pleasure. He feels my chest heave my breath, changing pace with each stroke. He brings his face close to my cunt lips and starts slowly licking and lapping at my swollen clit feeling his 'pumpkin' writhing in ecstasy. He continues to lick deep and far inside my quivering pussy.

"Ohhhhhh daddy" I moan loudly as I push my pussy further in to his face.

"I want my baby girl to experience more" he moans softly into my soaking cunt.

He spreads my legs wider but keeping my feet almost together. Pressing his fingers deep inside, my clit twitches as he began to finger fuck me. His fingers going in and out just a little quicker than before. He hears his baby girl moan and wriggle with enjoyment making his cock ache and throb, as pre-cum slowly dribbles out.

"Ohh princess you are making daddy feel so naughty but in a good way. Daddy's special toy will soon be ready for you to play with. You'll like that won't you pumpkin?"

"Yes daddy I can't wait to play with it" I reply giggling just like a little girl.

"You don't know how much daddy thinks about you my baby girl . I want to touch you and kiss you and look at you naked and gaze at your your soft beautiful tits. I so much want to do things to you. I want you to Fuck me.

Tell daddy, tell me pumpkin , Do you play with yourself and think of me?" 

"Ohh I do daddy, all the time."

His lips graze and nuzzle deep into the side of my neck. 

"Daddy is going to teach you something really special but not until you suck my special toy you would like that?"

"Oh yes daddy I love sucking your cock deep in my throat."

Slowly I sit up, as he is already kneeling on the bed in front of me. 

"Take my cock, your special toy in your hands and gently stroke it. It feels good doesn't pumpkin?"

"Ohh yes daddy it does". I said as I stroke his nice thick long shaft.

Looking at him I pause for a moment.

"Daddy do you wank and think about me. You do don't you daddy?"

"All the time my baby girl and I can't stop thinking what it would be like for you to suck me. Suck daddy's cock".

"But daddy it's so big for a baby girl." 

"Do it for daddy. Show daddy what a big girl you are".

Rubbing my finger over his cock I smear the pre-cum. Pressing my lips against the tip of his cock my tongue starts sliding around the big head. Closing my eyes and moaning I open wide, taking as much of his cock in my mouth as I could. Slowly bobbing my head up and down his shaft, my sweet lips making a wet sucking and slurping sound against his cock as I suck in and pull on his cock. He could feel my warm wet saliva trickle down along his throbbing aching wet shaft.

Letting his cock slip from my mouth, I grip it tight, slowly looking at up him with lustful eyes. Both of us hot and ready to go.

"I'm ready daddy, I want you to fuck me. My pussy is warm and wet. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. I want that cock in my cunt daddy."

"Are you ready?" 

"Yes daddy. I'm ready."

Straddling over him his cock presses against my swollen, moist pussy lips and slowly he begins to rub it up and down my entire slit. Pushing forward he spreads my swollen lips apart with his throbbing cock head. Slowly I lower myself down onto his length feeling the heat and passion, moaning and grunting as his erection fills my wet, warm pussy. He moans as my bare tits press firmly against his chest, skin on skin as we settle in for a good deep fucking rhythm.

"Oh!! I am daddy's bad little baby girl." My squealing and moaning all rolled into one. "Ohhhh daddy!! It feels so good. Oh fuck you're going to make me cum".

Wrapping my arms around his neck we kiss, his tongue thrusting deep and far into my mouth as I gasp and moan. I meet every thrust grunting and groaning my tits swaying as I ride his shaft up and down, taking more of his cock as it fills me completely. My pussy begins to tighten around his cock, my juices coating his thick shaft. One hand grips my ass guiding me as I ride him faster, a little harder and a little deeper .

"Yes!! Oh fuck." I moan.

"Ohhh, yes, I can feel how wet you are! Ohh fuck you are so good at being daddy's baby girl. Mmm how warm, how easily I fit inside you! Fuck I can feel you dripping down my balls as you move." His words bring me ever closer to the edge.

"Ohh daddy." I moan ever so erotically. "I love you in my bed fucking me all night daddy, fuck me, fuck your dirty baby girl. You like doing that to me don't you daddy. Ohhh fuck daddy. I am going to cum. I am yours daddy. Suck my fucking tits. Kiss me, Ohh fuck yes."

"Suck me pumpkin, suck my huge, throbbing cock".

Easing his cock out of me he stands up and offers his cock to me.

"Suck my fucking cock you dirty baby girl. Daddy wants to see how bad his baby girl really is. Oh Fuck Baby".

Just as his baby girl opens my mouth and reaches for his hard on, his sticky cum shoots from your cock and splashes across my cheek, down my lips and all over my perfect tits.

"Oh fuck yes". He moans

I grin at him "Ohhh daddy I like this new game". I lick your cum of your cock and it tastes so good".

I rub his cum all over his ball sack and cock as it drips from my face and tits.

"Mmm daddy, I am your dirty little daddy's baby girl now. Oh daddy I am such a good girl for you. Let's play again daddy" This new game left me to lust and want far more.

I think to myself how much I like this game of pretending to be daddy's little girl.

"We need to rest baby girl, but remember it's our little secret okay?"

"Yes daddy. I love you daddy."

"I love you too pumpkin now sleep, we will play in the morning, promise." 

As he kiss me deeply I knew that my effort as acting just like a daddy's girl turned him on so much that in the morning that this daddy's girl will be eager to play again. Perhaps as a naughty girl that needs a spanking.



He Calls Me Naomi



He calls me Naomi, though it's not my name. Rather, it's a mnemonic that occurred to him when we first met, after he'd realized I'm a high. Neither a man nor a woman; that's what it reminds him of. That's how he thinks of me...

It's also his induction method. Because wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, if I happen to hear his voice call that name, I fall instantly into a waking trance, and obey all his subsequent commands.

Hypnosis. He's an expert practitioner, and I'm highly susceptible to it. I'm told there aren't too many like me; folk who score maximum points on all those Ivy League university's suggestibility scales.

Some say we highs are weak and gullible - but that's simply not true. We're just rare... 

Whenever the phone rings, I'm on my guard, in case it's him.

"Naomi!"

"Yes, Master!"

"I'll be with you in ten minutes - you'll be wearing a blonde wig and pink lingerie!"

"Yes, Master!"

Immediately, I switch off the TV, rush to the bedroom and strip naked. I put on a lacy pink bra with matching panties, a pink camisole and seamed, hold-up stockings of the same hue.

I redo my make-up, using flamingo lipstick that complements his colour scheme, before putting on a platinum blonde wig and donning an ivory kimono. Lastly, from under the bed I retrieve a pair of fluffy, kitten-heeled mule sandals, which also happen to be pink!

It takes me a little over nine minutes to complete this transformation, so when I walk towards the front door, a shadow's in the process of arriving. Like always, I'm just in time to let him in.

"You look very nice - you've done well!"

"Thank you, Master! Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Not now, maybe later. Let's start in the bedroom!"

"Yes, Master!"

He follows me into my bedroom, removes his leather jacket and sits down on the only chair in the room - an armchair facing my bed. Meanwhile I stand in profile, stock still, opposite the open window. As hazy Spring sunshine filters through the net curtains, my breathing remains impeccably regular, and I feel perfectly calm and relaxed as I await his next instruction, without the slightest trepidation.

"Stretch your left leg towards me, and lock it against an imaginary pole," he commands. And unflinchingly, I do as he's asked. I push my leg high up into the air, till every sinew is straining, then feel it chocked firmly against a metal pole, bound fast with a sturdy cuff created by my subconscious mind.

My leg now feels locked rigidly in position. I need make no effort to keep it there, and I still feel calm and relaxed. If needs be, I could stay in this position till the next millennium!

"Good gurl! Now, feel my imaginary finger stroking the seam of your stocking on that elevated leg, slowly and gently, from your ankle right the way up to your thigh..."

It's awkward, explaining how this works! I can clearly see Master, sitting in the armchair several paces from me, yet now I feel his finger, gently stroking the seam of my stocking and tickling my leg, which begins straining against its imaginary bond!

His finger makes its way slowly along my stocking, lingering tortuously over the back of my knee in a way that causes me to flex and convulse. And yet, my imaginary bond holds fast! Still, as he reaches my butt-cheek, there's perspiration forming on my brow...

"Now feel my lips caressing your butt-cheeks - and feel my tongue rimming your hole!"

And I do! He's still in that chair, yet now I feel his lips, warmly kissing my butt-cheek before snuggling into my crack. I sense a stream of hot, damp air snorting down his nostrils, before his moist tongue begins gently rimming my anus, which is beginning to quiver so severely, my ankle strains harshly at its bond.

And yet, it remains firmly in place - locked in the air, and fixed to an imaginary post!

"Very good!" he proclaims at length. "Now release your leg and slowly, while staying calm and relaxed, clamber onto the bed..."

As I follow his instructions, I'm aware he's moving - standing up whilst taking off his trousers. There's a drawer at the side of my dresser, where he keeps his accessories - condoms, cock-rings, lubricants and the like - and he's fond of parking himself there, so I always keep that side of the dresser clear for his convenience.

So now I'm squatting on top of the bed, on all fours, staring out of the window, while he's behind me, contemplating what to make me do next. And truthfully, I don't mind what it is! I'm always comfortable in his presence, and anything he asks of me is just fine...

On past occasions, he's fisted me, a group of his friends have gang-banged me, and I've been sent on a stroll around the railway station, with instructions to sell my body. And each time, I completed my assignment whilst remaining in the state of mind he commanded...

Which was usually calm and relaxed - but not always!

My fisting was a truly weird experience, as I used to have an awful phobia about that. In fact, long before Master found me, I'd shunned some tempting offers to give it a go.

He started pretty much where I am just now - squatting on all fours, on top of my bed. Then he told me to pull down my knickers, and jerk myself off.

As you can imagine, I never touch myself without his express permission. I experience pleasure only when he tells me, and how he tells me.

My orgasms are his creations - gifts doled out only when he feels I've earned them.

To avoid emotional turbulence, he frequently insists I render my boy-bits useless before we start our activities; either by attaching a cock-ring, or else by jerking myself off.

It is best for both of us that he has full control over my emotions!

For my fisting, he instructed me to coarsely rub my boy-bits till my hand was covered with cream, then to smear it on and around my anus. 

He made me lubricate myself for his forthcoming pleasure!

An age then passed, slowly, in which I wasn't permitted to move so much as an eye muscle, until finally he pushed his index finger into my bum. Next, he inserted a second finger, then a third, until his whole hand was just one forceful push away from entering me. 

As he completed that push, I should have felt tremendous pain - only he instructed me not to...

"As you feel my fist entering your body, you will experience only joy and ecstasy!" he insisted.

And he was right! I couldn't help myself - I loved every long, blissful moment of it!

Right now though, he is only going to fuck me. He's not said as much, but he's just thrown a cock-ring onto the duvet, for me to fit. He likes to have something to handle during a long, hard fuck - something he can play with!

The cock-ring's a tight one - so tight, I'll be totally numb, but that's okay. When he's ready to cum, he'll simply tell me to experience an orgasm - and I will!

It might sound ridiculous, but it's true - when he's about to seed me, he'll tell me to start groaning, and I'll do it.

Overcome with pleasure, I'll moan and groan...

"Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes..."

"Good gurl!" he says, gently stroking my wig as he fires a generous load of warm, salty cum into my backside. And his praise, combined with the glorious feeling of having him inside me, causes me to shiver and shake uncontrollably.

What better kind of orgasm can there ever, possibly be?

Today, he treats me to a fine, long shafting - he's not in a hurry, thank goodness! He starts off by slowly teasing my rim with his cherry, then gives me his whole, beautiful six-inches of stiff, fat meat. All the way in, and hold...

He pulls out completely, fondles my butt cheeks like a connoisseur, then re-enters - pulling me back tightly so I'm aware of every last millimetre of his thick, glorious meat-rod. And only when he's done this a few more times does he finally start to seriously pump my ass...

But once he gets going, boy does he pound me! He's a hard piston inside a soft lining, asserting his superiority by passing down a perfect blend of pleasure and pain. 

"You are about to enjoy the ultimate gift," he calmly informs me. "Prepare to express your gratitude!"

"Oh, yes Master! Thank you so much, Master!" I groan, as joyous tears cloud my eyes, causing loose flakes of mascara to blotch on the duvet.

"I'm about to cum," he informs me. "And as I do so, on sensing my seed entering your body, you will experience an orgasm!"

"Yes, Master!" Almost immediately, I feel his cream pumping into my anus, and the strongest spasms imaginable suddenly shoot right through me, causing each of my limbs to quake in sheer, unadulterated ecstasy...

Almost my whole body is affected; in fact, almost every part of me shivers violently, except for my tightly constricted boy-bits, which are so numb they're beyond the equation.

But why should I care about them?!

I mean, with such glorious spasms overwhelming my every sinew and causing me to shake with bliss, why should I mourn for those useless, irrelevant appendages?

Their absence is of no consequence to me, for I know I'm missing absolutely nothing. To the contrary, I am deeply privileged to have Master indulging me like this!

"Oh yes! Oh, yes! Ooh - yes!"

My bum shivers divinely, as I shake and quake while he pumps me full of a heavy, generous load of his warm, creamy spunk.

Withdrawing at last, he commands me to turn around and clean him up. I'm eager to oblige; this task is a special treat for me, because Master's cum and my anal juices mix to make a cream that tastes exactly like lemon sorbet!

I simply adore lemon sorbet, it's my favourite treat - and this particular variety is the most divine you could ever imagine!

So when he asks me to lick him clean with my tongue, it's like being let loose in my favourite candy store...

"Gently!" he's forced to chide, as I eagerly slobber around his gradually deflating manhood. "Remember to stay calm and relaxed!"

Of course, I'm so well conditioned, I hardly need his constant prompts to remain calm and relaxed. But sometimes it's been different - like the time he brought a gang of his friends around, for example.

He'd not told me to expect company, so I thought he was coming alone. When I opened my door to find he'd brought five of his friends with him, I felt my pulse rising uncontrollably. But when I focused on his eyes, he told me to breathe steadily and compose myself...

I was to remain calm and relaxed - for the time being!

I wasn't wearing much; a skimpy little black dress with very high, sling-back sandals and seamed stockings. All my lingerie was black - just like he'd instructed.

"Show my friends into your bedroom!"

"Yes, Master!"

Right from the start, it was clear what they'd come for, and they wasted no time setting about their business...

Now my bedroom's not so big, and they really made a crowd. Before I knew it, the room stank so badly of testosterone, I felt obliged to open the window - and I guess that was their prompt. One of them grabbed my arm, and when I reacted, impulsively trying to push him away, another guy lunged for my waist.

Before I knew it, they were holding me firmly by each of my arms and legs, and I was being stretched across my own, red duvet like Lucifer's saltire. Of course, I was wriggling like there was no tomorrow, cursing them to hell and back - but my exertions were proving futile.

From the outset, I'd never liked the look of those guys - they were unkempt, unwashed and ignorant! And now, the dirtiest of the whole bunch crawled onto the bed. His breath was just awful; he reeked of booze and sick, while his dark yellow teeth strained to form a passable grin as he tore off my panties before taking down his own rotten, dirt-stained jeans...

"Wait!" They paused in their tracks, as Master's commanding voice called over the milieu, demanding calm. And when he snatched my panties out of this vile lecher's filthy hand, I briefly hoped my ordeal was about to be curtailed.

But I was hopelessly wrong...

Smiling benevolently, Master scrunched my panties into a tight little ball and, bidding me open wide, stuffed them forcefully down the back of my throat...

Then, looking deep into my helpless eyes, he commanded: "You do not want to have sex with these men! They are raping you! You will do everything in your power to resist them! Do you hear me? EVERYTHING!"

A dreadful panic overwhelmed me, as I fought and struggled, desperately trying to break free of those awful, filthy dogs who were pinning me down. But it was futile. The lecher who'd removed my panties, smiling through his yellow gob rot, simply drooled onto his cock before forcing himself crudely inside my quivering butt-crack...

I fought and fought, despite the utter futility of it. And tears ran copiously down my cheeks, spoiling my make-up, as one after another, my assailants took turns to fill my bum with their vile loads of warm, odious cum.

When the last of them had enjoyed his pickings, I felt completely degraded. Every square inch of my clothing stank of those brutes - of their sweat, their piss, their utter filth. I curled into a foetal position and, oblivious to their sneers, began crying into my sweaty palms.

"Well done!" It was Master's voice, sweetly and soothingly intruding on my self-pity. "You will sleep now," he continued gently. "And when you awake, fully refreshed, you will remember this experience as a positive one! You will remember how I control you both for good and bad, and how my will is always the one, true path! And you will be grateful to me for revealing this dark side, which you have experienced here today. This dark side which, in the future, you will gain happiness and satisfaction from pursuing!"

"Yes Master," I replied sleepily. "Thank you, Master!"

And what do you know but, looking back, I'm really pleased I went through that experience - even though I'd sooner never repeat it!

You see, when I woke up, I felt absolutely terrific - I've rarely felt anything like so good! And then it struck me how we need to have bad days, or else how can we ever learn to appreciate the good ones? And then I realized how lucky I am, to have Master guiding my life! Without him, truly, I don't know how I'd even begin to cope...

Licking Master's cock clean, and tasting the most delicious lemon sorbet, it's hard to remember that not all blowjobs are such marvellous, gratifying delights. But it's true - they can be really hard work; like the time he ordered me down to the railway station, to sell my body!

It's known as The Arches, that part of town where gurls like me go to be picked up by passing cars. I'd always thought of myself as above that kind of thing, but it turned out, one fine day, that Master had other ideas...

It was a warm evening last Summer, and I was dressed mostly in red. He'd asked me to wear a blouse he'd bought for me, a translucent chiffon number, along with an uncomfortably short skirt and my favourite pair of high heels. It's a sluttish outfit, but he likes it - and so do I!

He arrived later than usual, and I assumed we'd be retiring straight into the bedroom. But that's the thing about Master - he's unpredictable, so it's best never to assume anything!

Greeting him at the door, I was astounded when he informed me I was going out on my own! I was to stroll all the way down to the town's red light area, and put myself on display. And I was not to return until I'd sold my body to a total stranger!

Now, my apartment is in a run-down though fairly central suburb, less than 15 minutes' walk from the town centre. And although it would mean passing through some areas where I might not feel safe, dressed so skimpily after dark, it is hardly my place to question Master's wisdom.

I simply won't do it!

Clip-clopping hazardously along the pavements in four-inch steel-tipped stilettos, my pulse raced as I left the safety of the estate (where at least I'm well known, even if most of my neighbours despise me as a sissy faggot) for the vagaries of the subway, which passes underneath the motorway, taking pedestrians into town.

In the bleak subterranean tunnels, my heels echoed noisily every which way - and who knows who's down there - or what they might be inclined to do with the likes of me!

But I was lucky; it was a quiet night, and I soon emerged unscathed on the other side. That just left the high street to negotiate, before I could divert into the shadowy world behind the railway station...

I arrived under The Arches unscathed, excepting the odd hostile glance and lewd suggestion. But because I'd strolled in from the west, I found myself mingling with the straight hookers - real, genetic girls, who don't always look kindly on the likes of me!

So I quickened my pace, making it clear I wasn't trying to steal their trade, while I hurried on down to the other end, where a couple of other gurls like me were hanging around, leaning against the bricks of those dark old railway arches, while making sure enough of themselves was poking out to show up nicely in the beams of passing car headlights.

I'd simply had no time to catch my breath and introduce myself before a car slowed right down, and my fellow tranny hookers scurried out of the shadows to hit on the driver. I'm sorry to say this, but as they scooted past, there was a distinct air of desperation about them!

Seeing as I was tired from my stroll and didn't want to get into a cat fight over the first john who showed up, I hung back in the shadows. But this only seemed to get the car driver kind of excited...

"You!" he called, sounding annoyed I wasn't crowding around him like the others. "Get over here!"

I strolled over to where he'd parked. "Come closer!" he hissed, so I stood with my skirt in his face, while he put his hand under my little red miniskirt, giving my boy-bits a tight squeeze.

"Okay, I like it! How much for a BJ?"

"Twenty." I panicked. Was that too much or too little?! I'd planned on hanging around a bit with the other gurls and finding out what they charge - but now, it was too late! He looked at me thoughtfully.

"Okay, it's a deal - get in!"

In an atmosphere of silent hostility, I let myself into the back of his car, grateful that looks can't kill! He was Asian, forty-something, with a scar on his left cheek. Would the other gurls let the police know, if he failed to bring me back? Would they care? As he drove me away, I had an awful feeling I'd just made a couple of lifelong enemies I could really do without...

Just around the corner, he pulled over near an abandoned parking lot. It's real dark there, and though you need to be careful and look out for smashed glass, there's a pile of loose carpet and an old, damp mattress that's good to kneel down on...

So it's an excellent spot for giving somebody a discreet blowjob!

This guy was in one hell of a hurry; he'd got his meat-rod out of his pants and was suited up well before I'd even opened the car door! Kneeling on the mattress, I was keenly aware of his impatience. The guy didn't want a long experience, he just wanted to jerk off in my mouth, then be on his way.

Perhaps he was scared the cops would show up? Or maybe his wife was at home, waiting for him to return with those groceries on the back seat?

Whatever his motivations, it was the fastest blowjob I'd ever given. No licking around his balls before working slowly up his stem, then popping his cherry delectably into my mouth. No, he was straight down the back of my throat...

I slurped a lot, while he pumped away, holding my head firmly where it suited, so he could get a good, long thrust. I swear he'd have choked me if it had gone on a long time - but it didn't...

In fact, 15 minutes hadn't passed before I was using the map outside the railway station as a mirror, to redo my lipstick before walking home to Master... 

That walk was scary, especially in the subway. Late in the night the gangs might be gone, but the homeless move in, and it becomes their place - their territory. Of course nowadays, they're mostly my friends! I pass them on my walk home, pretty much every night, and we enjoy a chat!




He Calls Me Naomi



That's because these days, I work The Arches almost every night. And I really enjoy it, especially now I'm friendly with the other gurls - so much so, when I take the occasional night off, I hardly know what to do with myself!

Needless to say, Master handles the money side of things, telling me how much to charge and what services to offer. I give him my takings, and he pays all my bills and sees me right for pocket money.

It means I never have to worry about money!

Before I met him, I'd never have guessed I'd have wanted to do this kind of work, or quite how enjoyable it could be! I owe him so much that, sometimes I get all emotional just thinking about it, and end up weeping!

The only downside is, he hardly touches me these days - says it wouldn't be right. He's always got to focus his attentions on the newest gurl. And to be honest, I do resent that, but I try not to - because Master says that jealousy is a dreadful curse!

Besides, I've got my friends now, the other gurls who work The Arches - and just like me, they were all his special favourite once upon a time! And while he might not pay us quite so much individual attention nowadays, at least he makes sure that we're calm and relaxed when we have to be.

Calm and relaxed...

He calls me Naomi, even though it's not my name - and I'll do absolutely anything he commands...

Absolutely anything!