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Ember & Ashe Ch. 1

By: Tatewaki



Chapter One: The Acquisition of Eimi

How long should a man wait to get his dick sucked? I pondered this and other mysteries of the cosmos as I chilled at the Java Joint down on East Hastings and Main. Seven had come and gone three hours ago. Any sane man would have been long gone. Any sane man would be out there trying to scare up some backup pussy.

Instead, I stayed put and shot back another couple of Mochaccinos. Heather had been incredibly sweet, with a great ass and massive breasts. She liked her sex kinky and rough, which suited me just fine. She only got nervous when she discovered that her forays into the Experimental Zone were well blazed trails to me. What she considered kink was my way of life.

I think I scared the shit out of her. I sat at a window seat so I could see her when she arrived. It did not seem likely that she would. Only the lonely, the desperate or the working would be out and about at this time of night. Everyone else should have the sense to stay the hell indoors. Some strange shit be walking on the streets. Like yours truly.

The cashier came over to me then, holding an envelope in her slender tan hand. She looked either Filipino or Burmese; I never could tell the two nationalities apart. She was young, perhaps fifteen, but would grow into a real stunner one day. She already had the thick lips, round breasts and doe-eyes of the fuk-n-suk girl. Man, I love Asian women!

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Grissolm?"

"Sure am. Is that for me?" I was already reaching for the envelope when I saw her flinch. "Hey, it isn't going to explode, is it?" I asked her. 

"Who knows! I mean, I don't think so..." She seemed genuinely frightened. A slip of pink tongue kept licking her upper lip as she stared at the envelope in my hand. Man, if she didn't stop doing that, I would have to forget about Canadian Law and fuck this chick right here and now. I sampled some young flesh overseas, and I had to admit, it tasted damn sweet.

"By the way, why are you only giving this to me now? I have been here for over three hours." My voice dropped low, the loud, bass rumble sounding deep in my chest. Her eyes went round and wide, most startling to see in an Asian. I guess she did not want to experience an enraged black man exploding all over her. She was backing off, all the while examining me from my dreadlocks to my combat boots.

"I was told to give this to you at 10:00 or when you got up to leave, whichever came first. The woman paid me $50."

"I see," I said. And I did. Heather must've come in early to set this up. I guess she really did not want to see me face-to-face, but did not want me so angry after that I stalked her around Vancouver. I could almost imagine her panic as she decided on how to handle me. I tore open the envelope and read its contents.

I won't bore you with the details. I was too dark - in a spiritual sense; she liked black men! - too intense, and much too angry for her. I also liked to do some strange shit that she was not down with. She wished me no ill, but did not want me hanging around her anymore. She had quit stripping at Brandy's, and would no longer be at any of her old hangouts. Blah, blah, blah...

I carefully folded the letter and placed back into the envelope, then summoned the girl over to me. She came, hesitatingly. "Was the woman with someone when she gave this to you?"

"The woman? I don't remember."

"Skip it." I paid her, and took my leave. The question was pointless, anyway. If Heather was with someone else, what could I do about it? What should I do about it? Only one thing mattered right now.

I needed some relief really bad. Fuck, was I ever horny!

I split the coffee shop and headed into the alley behind it. There, I unzipped my fly and got ready to urinate. I would piss on the wall like the evening had pissed on me, then I'd flag a cab down. Thank God I lived near Vancouver and not NYC. Here, a dreadlocked, tattooed brother could still hail a ride without too much difficulty. I pulled out my prick, about to piss, when I laid eyes upon the woman who would forever own my soul until my dying day.

She squatted in the alley with her back against the wall. She was taking long tokes from a blunt. Her purple tinted lips nursed that doob with surprising gentleness. I could only imagine what those same lavender lips would do to my cock. She was slim, and gorgeous. Definitely Japanese. Her short wiry frame was packed into a metallic ruby halter with spaghetti straps. The glittering onyx kanji that ran down her side over the left breast read "Fuckable Piece." She certainly was! Purple bra straps were visible on her golden shoulders, but nothing was visible above the low cut halter which proudly displayed the tops of her small, pert breasts. She was wearing a demi-bra, perhaps? My dick pulsed in my hand, throbbing with need.

"I'll take care of that." The woman unfolded herself from her squatting position and came over to me. She abandoned her little joystick for my bigger one. Her small, dainty fingers curled around my member, which twitched with a life all its own. She looked at it in awe. My cock was short; if it measured five inches in length, I would've been surprised. Brothers everywhere would mock me if they knew, I am certain. But man, was it ever fat. It measured well over three inches in thickness, probably closer to four. One of my ex-girlfriend used to call it the tin can. When she said it, she always sounded a little frightened.

More on that, later.

The Japanese girl looked at my squat member, and then back at me. Her almond gaze never left my eyes from that point on. "A challenge," she said. She licked her lips. Such a lewd act from a face as angelic as hers made droplets of precum bead at my cock slit. She gathered up one of the pearlescent drops with the tip of her finger and bore it slowly to her mouth. She placed the droplet on her tongue and sucked at her fingertip slowly, milking it as if it was a little cock caught between her bee-stung lips.

"Mmmm. Sweet, like ice cream." 

Her hands ran down her small breasts to her narrow hips, which were sheathed in deep maroon, hip hugging stretch pants with the low-rider waists so popular with girls nowadays. Those pants accentuated the golden globes of her ass cheeks. I could see the tops of them clearly. My palm ran across this second cleavage with a gentle caress. She lay a diminutive hand on my chest, while the other one grabbed my dick and jerked it slowly. The trail of silver buttons down the sides of her pants winked in the dim lights of the alley.

"I charge $150 per half-hour, $75 for a blow job and $50 for a hand job. You want?"

The last sentence jangled in my ears. True, she had the lilting, heavy voweled accent of the Japanese, but she had sounded too western to use such a hackneyed pseudo English expression like "You want." This girl was pretending to be a dim-witted Shibuya fuck slut. Well, if that was the image she wanted to project, who was I to argue? Maybe it was good for her business. But not for business with me.

It was with great regret that I withdrew my aching cock from her gentle vise of a hand, and tucked it back into my pants.

"Sorry, girl. I don't pay for sex. Although," my hand brushed aside a fine lock of raven hair that framed her delicate, angular face, "you certainly do make me want to make an exception. You are so beautiful. What is your name?"

"Yoshikawa Eimi," she replied. I do not know who was more surprised; her, or me. I certainly did not expect her to tell me her name. "You are..."

"Grissolm. Andrew Grissolm." I put out a hand for her to shake. Ludicrous, considering she had been stroking my dick just seconds before, but it felt like the right thing to do. She gave my hand a light squeeze. "Andrew. The name does not suit you, somehow. I must think on it."

The smile in her eyes was infectious. I felt myself grinning like a drunk at happy hour. I couldn't help it. Ms Yoshikawa had touched something deep inside me, something that resonated with her. It thrummed in time with the vibes that Eimi projected. I do not know why.

Suddenly, my nerves were on fire. Senses honed by years spent out on campaign with the military, and later, as a private mercenary had not lost their edge. We were not alone in the alley. My hands quickly tapped the locations that usually held my concealed weapons. Of course, in deference to Heather, I had carried nothing tonight. I cast my gaze around, searching for the interlopers. Eimi looked about her, confused. She was puzzled by my sudden distress.

"Yo, my man. You buying, or just talking?" A couple of fellows lumbered into the alley from the opposite end, kicking the detritus out from their path. Rats scurried away. They chittered at being so rudely disturbed from their evening repast. Ruby eyes glittered from the shadows. Watching. 

The two toughs were massive. Each one was my size or larger. Thick slabs of muscle sheathed them in plates more impenetrable than steel armor. The looked like football players gone psycho; they were grotesque in their deformity. Muscle bulked them up so much, it was a wonder that they could walk unaided. I let my entire frame relax, rising up onto the balls my feet in preparation for their next move.

These dolts didn't seem to recognize my actions for what they were. He waited for an answer, all unsuspecting. "Not buying, just talking," I replied. I looked at Eimi. She stared at the two, considering. She had a look in her eyes I had seen countless times before in the streets of many an Asian city or village. She was estimating the amounts of money they carried to within a dime.

"$200 per half-hour. $100 for oral." Her voice was clipped and businesslike, so unlike the merry sing song she used when in conversation with me

"Fine," one of the monstrosities answered. "Pardon me, slick," he said, shoving me aside. I let the rude action pass. I waved goodbye to Eimi and walked down the alley in the direction that the two misanthropes had come from. She was just a whore making her pay, right? Nothing for me to worry about.

So why did I?

Her soul called out to me, begging for protection. She had wandered for years in this lonely place, looking for her companion. "Don't leave me, not so soon," it pleaded. My heart replied in kind. "I have searched for you my entire life. I will not leave. Now, or ever."

My mind shouted at my heart, ordering my feet to continue walking away, but in vain. I skulked back to the lip of the alley, and cautiously peered down it like some kind of pathetic voyeur.

Eimi was squatting in the alley with a slab of dick meat in each of her hands. Her long, tapered fingers were curled in supplication around each cock as she jerked them back and forth, in a smooth, continuous motion. Her golden hands were a study in synchronicity. Not once was her rhythm thrown off by their thrusting hips or their grasping hands. Suddenly, her head turned towards the spot where I was hiding. My heart crashed against my ribs. I had made no sound. My stalking techniques, especially in urban environments were nonpareil. Were they still alive, many of my assassination targets could vouch for it. How had she known where I was?

On closer inspection, I saw that her eyes were closed. Thick ebony lashes shielded her delicate mind from the contempt of the men she serviced. Was it a tear that trickled down her face? Impossible. From this distance, I would be unable to make out that kind of fine detail. Despite that, I was certain. Eimi was crying, if only within her own heart.

She began to fellate them. Fellatio. Such a clinical, dry term for the savagery of the attack she mounted on their vulnerable pricks. She dove upon them like a kingfisher upon a sardine, taking one into her mouth all the way, then the other. Even from here, I could hear her lewd smacking as the cocks plunged in and out of her throat. Moans of pleasure came from the two men as she worked them over. While one was ensnared by her lips, the other was treated to expert digital manipulation. Her dexterous fingers nimbly thrummed, caressed, kneaded and pulled on the excited member, making its owner squirm with helplessness. It was hard to tell which man enjoyed her services more; the one lodged deep within her face, or the one trapped in her silky, iron grip. My own cock strained painfully against the fly on my black slacks. I had passed this up? Fuck. Time to reconsider my hard-nosed stand on whores. It was not as if I had never used them in the past. When had I suddenly found religion?

The storm broke. Sprays of semen pelted her like sheets of rain in a monsoon. The skin of her beautiful face was covered in gobs of sticky come. That angelic face, defiled by the foul seed of those cretins. Eimi scooped up the ejaculate and flung it from her. From her small purse she withdrew a moistened napkin. She daintily scrubbed the spunk from her face like a matron would cleanse her hands prior to eating supper. Dirt had to be cleaned. That was all. I shook my head in amazement. She was the most fresh faced, innocent looking whore I had ever laid eyes upon. The baby slaves plying their trade all over India and Thailand had nothing on her. It was not a question of physical age. It was one of seeming vulnerability. She knew what she had to do it order to survive, and she did it with an impressive skill. But her soul. It lay in tatters because of it.

"So what," my common sense told me. "Her choice. Her fate. Not your problem."

"Help her," my soul countered. "She has been searching for you her entire life. Will you now forsake her?"

Sorry, soul. Cool reason had kept this black man alive through several hells in the past. Emotion got one killed right quick, if one was careless. I would heed reason. I dismissed Eimi from my mind and turned away. She would be okay. This was her job, after all. She didn't ask for a chaperone.

A scream from the alley behind me changed all that. I was flying down the alley before I knew it. "Stop, you dread-headed idiot! What the fuck are you doing?" my mind shouted.

"What he must," my soul answered with satisfaction. "What he was born to do. He will protect her."

Eimi lay unconscious on the ground. A livid purple bruise shone from the side of her battered face. Blood dripped from a nostril on the side where the ham-fisted bastard had struck her down. He was bent over her, mauling her petite breasts while his mate clawed at the top of her hip-huggers, peeling her like a grape. It was slow, difficult going, but the pants were coming off. I took into everything with a single glance as I careened into them. Take out these assholes, but be careful not to further injure Eimi. That was the plan, at least.

Fuck. I’d just wanted to blow my wad and then go home. Instead, I had become embroiled in a fight for my life. Typical shit, in the saga of my fucked up existence. Ms Yoshikawa's sweet ass had better be worth all the hassle.

***

In the end, it was no contest. Those yahoos were big, but totally unskilled. Besides, like sharks, they were busy feeding on an immobilized victim, mired too deep in their blood frenzy to mount much of a defense. A solid kick to the front of the kneecap effectively took care of one lout, while an elbow to the throat sent the other sprawling to the filthy pavement. They gurgled and retched while I liberated their wallets from them. It had taken mere seconds.

I pulled the would-be rapists from Eimi and looked at her. She seemed so small lying there in the alley. Small, and vulnerable. My instinct to protect her warred with my desire not to get involved. Leaving her here would be for the best. The problem? I was already involved. My heart had belonged to her the moment I first laid eyes on her. When was that, all of ten minutes ago? It seemed much longer, somehow. Like a lifetime. I picked up the unconscious woman, treating her like a sculpture of spun glass as I carried her from the alley. Eimi Yoshikawa. That name might be the name of your body, perhaps, but not of your soul. Like mine, it did not fit you. God willing, we would have the time to discover your true name.

I wanted her, I realized. Needed her, really. But what did she feel for me? I was only the trick who had passed her up. This was an important question. That, and how in the hell was I going to flag down a cab hauling a cold-cocked Asian woman? The cabbies in Vancouver were not that liberal. I pushed the problem aside as I looked into Eimi's delicate face. I gently kissed her bruised cheek. Eimi. You could stop worrying. I had finally arrived.

***

The Yellow Cab rolled along the dusky streets of North Vancouver, heading out into the suburbs. Way out. I lived almost an hour out of city limits. Close enough for my business dealings, but far enough out so I could get some land attached to my property that I would not have to sacrifice my right testicle for. Land prices in the city center were steep, to say the least. Having millions didn't make the property more appealing, either. In North Van, every second person you met had a mil stashed under their pillow. That, or had a hand under yours. Lions and Hyenas both wandered Vancouver streets. Who was to say which animal was more dangerous?

The car sluiced through the curtains of light that washed down the streets at regular intervals. Orange, then dark. Over and over, without respite. Like some kind of strobe light stuck permanently on slow. Eimi twitched on my lap, shifting herself into a more comfortable position, I'd imagine. I continued to idly stroke her silken hair as I looked out the window at the quickly moving landscape.

"Where are we going," she asked. She had not budged. Her eyes remained closed, as if opening them would impart no useful information. She did not sound alarmed. Only curious.

"I'd expect you to want to know who it is you are with."

"I know that already." Eimi pushed herself off of my lap and leaned her back against the door of the cab. She regarded me with a flat-eyed stare. She seemed soulless. I wondered what kind of things she saw what he looked at me.

"I haven't been raped, so I figured I wasn't with those two goons. Besides," she squeezed my bulge with her nearest hand, "I recognize your smell. Spicy, like cloves and cinnamon."

"I see," I said, though I didn't, really. She did not seem to care that a complete stranger was with her in a car going off to parts unknown. Weird. Weird, but exciting. "Well, I'm heading home, and I figured you'd like a place to crash. You need to get that face looked at." I touched the bruise, careful not to cause her excessive discomfort. She flinched at the contact, but did not brush away my caress.

"You want to fuck me."

Perceptive. "Of course I do. But that's not why I am taking you home." Not the only reason, at least. "I could've had your ass back in the alley. All the hard work was already done for me."

"You're not that type."

"You think not?"

"I know not," she said. She ran a slim, well manicured finger over my full, thick lips. "Your kind craves excitement. Both the thrill of the chase, and of the kill. You are not interested in someone else's leftover carrion."

"Pretty smart, for one so young. What are you, eighteen?"

"Twenty. Young in years, but old in life." She ran a hand over my broad chest and rock-hard abs. There was nothing sexual in the contact. She was a blind woman, trying to formulate an impression of me by her touch alone.

"What have you been doing? You're horribly scarred."

Fuck. She could feel that through two layers of clothing? Who was this chick?

She laughed at my surprised expression. Her hand ran down my left arm. She traced the bulge of my rippling bicep with her mauve-tinted fingernails. She seemed to be taking inventory of my veins and tendons. "My touch is my business, Andrew. Just as yours is to fight."


Ember & Ashe Ch. 1



She shook her head again at my incredulous expression. "The alley. You were reaching for a pistol or a knife, but you didn't have anything with you. Do you usually carry?"

"Usually." I kept my eyes on the cabbie. Our eyes locked in the rearview mirror. "Stay cool, my friend. We're almost there," I said to him. He bobbed his head up and down as he continued to drive the cab. I could hear him muttering under his breath. I felt the cab pick up speed.

"Stay the night with me," I asked her

"Of course. I have nowhere else to go. But I'm not going to fuck you. If that's all you have in mind for me, you might as well stop the car and let me out." Her eyes held no hint of challenge in them. They were devoid of any emotion whatsoever. They were flat, black and lifeless, like rough cut onyx before it is polished. "I feel safe with you, Andrew, and I like the fact you don't judge me for what I do. For these reasons only shall I go with you. But never try to take more from me than what I am willing to give you."

What the fuck was all this about? First she offers to suck my cock in the alley, and now she's fronting about not wanting sex? Bitch, please. I motioned the driver to pull over. "Your stop, Eimi. I find your condition unacceptable. I stared at her, waiting for her to open the cab door and walk out of my life forever.

"Is this truly what you want, Andrew? Once I leave, there's no way I'm turning back. But I don't think you truly want me to go. You don't want to remain alone."

Says you. Go. I have known you for how long now, an hour? Not much time for you to start dictating terms to me. So leave. See if I care. This is what I wanted to tell her.

"Drive," I rasped. The cab started to roll. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"Not of myself, Andrew. Only of you," she replied. "It feels as if I've known you since time began."

Whoa! Scary shit, that was. It was too close to the feelings that I had experienced in the alley. It was nice to know that it wasn't only me feeling fucked up tonight.

Despite the supposed connection I had with her, Eimi was still an enigma. How could a street-walking slut be so pure? She could gobble stranger cock, then front about not wanting to have sex with me. Coming from her, it seemed almost natural. Who's to say that it wasn't? The things she did were simply actions, not definitions. They did not touch her essence. She was a dirt encrusted boulder that had rolled into a raging river. The turbulent waters that rushed over and around her only served to scour away the grit. She lost nothing of her inner self in the process. On the contrary, her inner beauty shone more brightly because of the experience. She flourished in adversity. All this I understood just by looking into her eyes. A strange light started to flicker there. A spark struggled to ignite. Hope, perhaps.

I cupped her firm breasts in my hands and tweaked her nipples through the sheer material of her crimson halter. Ah. It was an underwire demi-bra she wore underneath. Her nipples turned to hard stones beneath my caress. "I have decided to keep you, Eimi Yoshikawa. You're welcome in my home."

"I am happy to be going home at long last," she replied. She stroked my forearms as I teased her breasts, gently and with great care. The scars on my arms fascinated her. She touched them with gentle strokes as light as thought. Her legs opened and closed, flexing like the wings of an exotic maroon butterfly. She sighed. The sound carried with it all of the hope that had been lodged within her breast for who knows how long. Now she voiced it for me to hear. I kissed her, my thick dark lips brushing against hers. My tongue teased open her mouth and speared inside. My pink flesh freed her tongue from its imprisoning cage of ivory. Our tongues fused together, melding into one organ capable of bringing intense rapture to us both. My hands never ceased stroking her breasts. I could feel her heat as she breathed her lust into my mouth.

"We're here, lovebirds. How about continuing that inside? The cabbie asked. I tossed the two wallets I had acquired into the front seat of the cab. "Keep the change," I said. I walked around to the other side of the car and helped Eimi exit. Continue our play inside, the cabbie had told us? Indeed. I had every intention of doing so. 

We were home.



Ember & Ashe Ch. 2



I entered the compound with Eimi in tow. She said nothing as she traipsed along in her dark violet, open-toed platform shoes. She looked all around her, from the fence encircling my estate, to the low buildings that surrounded the central house. From our vantage point, she could see the three small houses in the front yard, and the escarpment that demarked the front and rear of my property. The other three homes, the training grounds and the Oriental gardens remained hidden from view. The thick, well-kept lawns glowed in the light from the downward pointing halogen lamps. They flooded the lawn with bluish tinted radiance. The grass burned like emerald fire. She gazed with delight upon the statues that dotted the property. They were of figures from Korean, Japanese and Sumerian myth. Eimi dropped to her knees and picked up a chunk of gleaming quartz from one of the two channels that ran along the sides of the access road to the main house. The central house, a three level Victorian, dominated the landscape. Growing up, I had always admired those old-fashioned types of homes. My mother had often taken me with her on her cleaning runs. It would be fair to say that I had grown-up in mansions, although I never made it past the foyer. Now I was the Lord and Master of my own estate. Unfortunately, my parents did not live to enjoy my success. They had died during my foreign excursions.

"Very pretty," she said, turning the rock over in her lithe, dexterous fingers. "You have a true eye for beauty, and for order." She let the quartz drop to the driveway. Without thinking, I kicked it back into the drainage channel she had originally taken it from.

"A very strong sense of order," she quipped. She bent over and unbuckled the dual straps that clung to her slender ankles. Her exquisite ass rose like a fiery, maroon moon. Its small, well rounded surface strained delightfully against the tight confines of her hip-hugger stretch pants. She stepped out of her unbuckled platforms then straightened, scooping up a shoe in each of her small hands. She immediately dropped four inches in height. She seemed even younger this way, even more the fey creature. Eimi stood just over five feet tall. Five foot two, perhaps. She skipped over the side drain, and landed on the plush lawn. Her dainty toes flexed as she kneaded the cool, trimmed grass between them, much as a cat would its favourite blanket prior to bedding down.

"I love grass. Feels so good against the skin." She ran to the house. Her long hair streamed behind her. The shoes flailed wildly in her hands, held only by their ankle straps. The silver buttons sewn on the outer seams of her maroon pants twinkled brilliantly in the floodlights. She looked so happy here. So carefree. My heart ached when I looked at her. I resolved to remember her just as she looked at this moment, full of the boundless exuberance of a child. She knew what the bird in flight knew. Ultimate freedom. Savour it, my little dove. I would clip your wings soon enough.

I reached Eimi, who stood at the front entrance. She had cast her shoes to one side of the thick oak door. She now paced the breadth and width of the porch, constantly in motion, as if she feared to stop. I reached over and pulled her to me by the spaghetti straps of her ruby halter-top. She gasped in surprise as I lifted her up by her armpits. She rose on her tiptoes to reach me, balancing comically. I lowered my dreadlocked-covered head and pressed my mouth to hers. My strong tongue speared into her mouth repeatedly, partaking of the nectar that pooled therein. I humped her face with my tongue roughly, thinking only of my pleasure, not of hers.

I started to walk forwards. Eimi back-walked until her shoulders pressed tightly against the front door to the house. My hands roamed over her body, concentrating on her pert breasts and her high, firm ass. I kneaded those ass cheeks like a baker did his dough. She squirmed in her pleasure. Sighs of arousal slipped down my throat as I ravaged her mouth with mine. I plunged deeper, my tongue reaching as far back into her as I could. I expected her to gag, and to push me off of her. She did not. She accepted everything I did to her without complaint.

I broke our kiss, and looked at her abused face. Her bright eyes sparkled with an inner fire. At last. Her lips parted slightly, still glistening with the dew we had been sharing. She looked up at me in expectation. I was a six-foot four, two hundred and twenty pound black man, a solid mass of scar tissue and attitude. She didn't seem fazed at all. She had almost been raped in an alley, and now had been carried off to the home of a complete stranger. It didn't seem to bother her. What kind of screwed-up life had she been living? "We're going in," I said, as I reached for my keys. Man, I was going to fuck her silly when I got inside. I couldn't wait to see her naked.

***

She made me wait to see her naked.

From the moment she entered my home, she made it her own. She flitted through the rooms like a sylph sailing on the winds through my domain. I did not stop her. It only made sense that she become used to her surroundings. You see, I intended to keep her here. The idea had entered my thoughts during the long cab ride , and had cemented in my mind when I saw how happy she had looked on the lawn. Here, she could feel safe. It was not merely altruism that drove me. We still shared that eerie connection. I did not want to let her go until I decided exactly what it meant.

But what would I do if she did not want to stay?

"A beautiful home, Andrew. Please show me to the bathroom. I must get clean."

I smiled at this. So Japanese, my little Eimi was. She smiled back at me, light flooding her face with happiness. The sun truly does rise in the East, I mused. Was she only responding to my smile, or pleased that she had pleased me? I preferred to think it was the latter. I eased her halter and bra straps down the slope of her satin shoulders until they clung to the sides of her arms, Bardot-style. This left me with a glorious expanse of golden, smooth skin. I trailed my large hands from her shoulders, up the sides of her neck. My thumbs caressed her sculpted chin and jaw. Her head tilted back, throwing her straight black hair into a gorgeous silken spread over her shoulders. In this position, her breasts pushed out, revealed by the low-cut ruby halter and her demi-bra. How I wanted to pull them out, and feast on those succulent globes. Instead, I decided to wait. I had plenty of time to play with.

"I have many bathrooms here, Eimi. I will take you to your very own." I picked her up effortlessly, and carried her up the stairs to the second floor. She could have that one, I decided. This strictly Western floor had none of the Oriental or Middle Eastern styling that permeated the decor of the other two levels. I hoped she would like it here. I bore her to the bathroom and stepped inside. My cock raged against the black material of my slacks, almost shredding them to ribbons in its haste to escape its imprisonment.

"Easy, boy," I thought to it. "Soon. Very soon." I placed Eimi on her feet and touched the light sensor. "I do hope you enjoy it," I said. Her expanding eyes told me that she would, indeed.

I had modelled it after the one at the Hotel Waldorf Madeleine, in Paris. Those fucks had denied me entrance a few years back. The rest of my unit had booked accommodations there without any grief. Of course, I was the only brother in the lot. So much for Equality, Brotherhood and Liberty. Fucking French hypocrites. I truly hoped that they enjoyed the little present I sent them. I heard that they only recently managed to scratch up enough capital to completely rebuild the destroyed eighth floor. I designed my lavatory based upon the video footage that my mercenary buddies gave me about their nights at the Waldorf. Man, the freaky shit that they got into with those French whores blew my mind. When I saw some of the intense things that you could do with those innocuous looking brass fixtures and fittings, I couldn't wait to install some of them in my own home. Why, they even managed to...

But I digress. Sorry.

Eimi ran into the bathroom, squealing with delight. She clapped her petite hands together in unfeigned glee. "I may use it? Truly?"

"Of course." I passed my hand around the room in an expansive gesture of magnanimity. "All you see is for your exclusive use. Fresh towels are here. Soaps, body washes and lotions are over here." I quickly gave her the rundown of where I kept the necessities. "The Jacuzzi and sauna are through those doors behind you. However," I paused dramatically, "the use of the facilities come with a price." My squat, thick cock pulsed in agreement.

Eimi graced my twitching groin with a brief glance as she padded around the ivory, gold and marble bathtub. "Everything good in life has a price attached," She said. "I didn't expect this to be any different."

"We understand each other, then. Good. That makes things easier." I motioned her over to me. She complied, without delay. "Strip me." 

Her nimble hands picked at my belt buckle and deftly undid the catch. She concentrated solely on her task. Her eyes stayed glued to my waist. I grabbed a handful of raven silk as she popped my buckle.

"Yeah. Unzip my fly. Remove my slacks." She did as I commanded. The cool, smooth skin of her hands played over the ripples of my muscular legs. Her slight touch traced the masses of scar tissue on them. "What have they done to you," she asked. Her low pitched voice quivered. She sounded as if she was about to cry. Fuck! I didn't want her sympathy. I just wanted her. This emotional display would kill my enjoyment if left unchecked. I roughly pulled her upwards by the roots of her hair. She gasped in pain as she rose to meet me.

"My shirt next. Take it off." She quickly unbuttoned my black shirt and peeled it off of me. I had to change hands, passing the captured mass of her hair from one palm to the other as she peeled off my Ermenegildo Zegna twill shirt. Eimi kept her eyes downcast, not daring to look me in the eyes. I released her hair but stayed ready to grab her again if she tried to bolt. She didn't budge. I took off my undershirt and stood before her in all of my glory. "Look at me, Eimi." I forced her chin up. Her face dropped into a sulky pout. A sliver of tongue moistened her aroused, puffy lips. 

Eimi's hands ran over my chest, gently probing the scars that crisscrossed my frame. She did not comment upon them. She just skimmed the tracks of my injuries as if committing them to memory. "You seem fascinated by those," I said. "Don't trouble yourself with them. They healed a long time ago."

"They do not hurt you anymore," she corrected. "I don't think they ever healed."

Who the fuck was this chick, anyway?

Her small round breasts stuck out against the sheer fabric of her fuck-me halter, its thinness incapable of concealing the turgid nipples. They made sharp points against the tight, thin material. Those nubbins instilled a lust in me that I had seldom felt. I read the glittering onyx kanji once again. 'Fuckable Piece,' eh? I would soon find out for myself.

I gripped the halter at the center and tugged hard. It ripped easily, splitting like ancient, rotted cloth. Her tits popped into view, two perfect, mitt-sized globes delightfully supported by the lavender demi- bra. Her burnished copper nipples stuck out proudly from her creamy breasts. The brassy areoles had a sheen to them, seemingly slick with olive oil. I bent my head to her breasts and suckled at one. My tongue washed around her areola and flicked at her sensitive nipple. The little pebble grew between my lips, almost to a half-inch. I playfully gripped the tender morsel between my teeth and pressed down upon it. Eimi gasped. I started to chew upon her tit, tugging the nipple in and out of my mouth as I chewed upon it. She seized a mass of my dreadlocks with both of her hands, shivering uncontrollably.

I moved to her other breast and repeated the treatment. The first spit-slick mound gleamed in the bathroom lights. My handiwork thrilled me.

As I straightened, I stuck an index finger between the slight mounds of her lips. I fucked that digit in and out of her exquisite mouth, the girl's swirling tongue working around it in frenzied abandon. Man, I couldn't wait to jam my little son in there and skull-fuck that face of hers.

The now-lubricated finger slipped down the crease of her belly, coming to rest at her navel. It was a deep, narrow gash. More a slit than a hole, really. A smile flicked across my thick lips. God had blessed her with two cunts. I gently stroked the area around her navel, and then stuck my index finger inside it. My finger worked in and out of this second cleft, soundly reaming her belly button.

This is a very sensitive spot for many women. There's nothing pleasant about a man's finger jamming inside of it. Eimi whimpered as I forced my digit into her, her ass shooting backwards as she sought to escape my probing finger. My other hand moved to her smooth butt and pressed it back into position. I gave her navel a solid jab with my index finger in retribution. She gasped loudly. I couldn't help but notice that her nipples darkened in hue, and grew even longer. Ah. She got off on discomfort, perhaps even mild pain. Good. I had much more of this type of play planned for her.

"Stay still," I whispered to her. My mouth neared her right ear. "Close your eyes, Eimi. Don't move. And don't resist me. Now, stand with your legs about two feet apart. Yes. That's it." I ran my hands down the inside of her thighs, stopping at her knees and then sliding up the outside of her legs, all the way past her waist. My hands continued upwards, gliding over her ribs as they made their way to her magnificent breasts. I mauled these, torturing her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. "Put your hands behind your back, with your fingers laced together. Yes. Like that. No matter what I do to you, you are to remain in this position. Do you understand?" I pinched down hard with both of my hands. Eimi hissed from behind clenched teeth.

"Yes." Her voice sounded husky, inflamed with passion.

"Do not speak," I said as I tapped a finger against her lips. She sucked it in without any prompting from me, working it in and out of her mouth frenziedly. "Do you understand?" Eimi, madly sucking upon my finger, nodded in the affirmative. Good girl. She learned quickly. I kissed her gently on each of her closed eyelids, and then took a couple of steps back. I wanted to admire her. 

Eimi stood spread-legged with her hands clasped behind her back. The posture made her small, round breasts poke obscenely forwards, high on her chest. The nipples speared upwards, threatening to touch the very ceiling. They groped heavenwards like a plant seeking the life-giving warmth of the sun. But I knew what her nipples really sought; the pleasure of my touch, the moist heat from my mouth. Her flat stomach trembled, breath tearing in and out of her lungs in a ragged fashion. She sounded like a bellows at the hands of an inexperienced, apprentice smith. The sounds of her arousal made my cock twitch in anticipation.

I quickly approached her and let my hands explore her exposed flesh. Her skin trembled under my fingertips. Her body began to glow with a thin film of perspiration. Her steaming skin seemed to effervesce under my gentle ministrations. I moved to stand behind her then began roughly massaging her breasts. How I loved those glorious mounds! Her hands remained clasped behind her back, approximately at my groin level. She rubbed them against my sac and balls, stimulating me. She kept her fingers laced together as I had earlier instructed.

Excellent.

I licked the sweat that ran down the runnel of her spine. She tasted like the nectar of a flower, with only the slightest trace of salt. My lips worked down her spinal column, tongue jabbing indiscriminately, like a serpent tasting the air. I felt her involuntary shudders from under my lips and tongue. So encouraged, I applied more pressure to her golden skin. I nibbled at her flesh like some kind of exotic fruit.

My face came to rest at the gentle swell of her hips, where they spread to form the curves of her ass. I stuck my tongue down the triangular hole formed by the rising globes of her ass and her super-tight hip-huggers. She moaned. I nipped at the top of an exposed ass cheek, hard enough to make her squeal.

"Silence," I admonished her. I saw her head nod. I loved this feeling, the feeling of being in total control, of manipulating another human being like a marionette. What made it more exciting for me was the knowledge that it all could end at any time. I would not rape her. That was for the weak and pathetic, like those clowns in the alley. She could end our play at any time she wished. What she allowed to happen would dictate the flow of our game. This knowledge made each act of submission on her part much more special. Each act may well be the last that she permitted. Even knowing this, I was determined to push her as far as she would allow.

I continued to kiss and tongue the visible parts of her ass cheeks as my hands gripped her hips, forcing her tighter against me. The low-cut pants did not conceal her sharp hipbones. I could feel the creases of her legs that sloped towards her crotch. She must shave. The waist of her pants lay well below the line that her pubic hair would start from, yet, all I could feel was bare, smooth skin. She began to grind her hips, her ass swaying to some unheard rhythm. My hands crept forward, seeking the apex of her desire, the warmth of her goddess's mound. I massaged her through the tight material of her pants. She suddenly stiffened. Her whole attitude changed. Her head was no longer thrown back. Instead, she leaned forward, as if looking to see what my invading fingers were doing to her privates.

"No," I commanded. "Eyes closed, and head back." I squeezed down roughly on her cloth-shrouded box. Breath rushed out of her lungs as if I had punched her in the gut. I reached up and yanked on a handful of her ebon hair. Her head snapped back. My other hand continued to rub against her vagina with increased roughness. She made odd noises as she sucked in air from behind clenched teeth. I continued to work at her snatch, waiting for her to complain. She did not. Satisfied, I returned my full concentration to the mauling of the exposed portions of her ass with my tongue and lips. I let my right hand gently caress her mound, my finger swirling in delicate, complex patterns with a touch light enough to leave dust undisturbed.

Warmth spread over my fingers. The crotch of her hip-huggers became sodden with her joy-juice. The rich aroma of heated woman filled my nostrils, burning fiery tracks through my overheated brain. "At last," I growled. I placed my hands over her ankles and massaged them. They were slight, fragile things. I could encircle them in my meaty hands quite easily. I slid my hands upwards slowly, enjoying the feel of the hot, twitching woman beneath my palms. My hands stopped at the first pair of silver buttons stitched on the outside seams of her pants. I hooked my index fingers around them and flicked hard with my thumbs, as if they were bottle caps. The silver buttons clattered away, becoming lost in some far corner of the bathroom. Eimi flinched at the sound but remained quiet. My hands continued their trek upwards, stopping to perform their little trick at each pair of buttons. Swaths of perfectly tuned leg peeked through freshly-opened side seams. I began to pop those buttons with increased rapidity. The sounds of buttons became a constant cacophony of clanging metal on white marble tile as I continued my inexorable trek north. Eimi's forced, ragged breath sounded loud in my ears.




Ember & Ashe Ch. 2



Soon, my dear. I'm almost done. 

I reached the top pair of buttons, these large, tightly stitched affairs sewn onto the waistband of the pants. They did not pop off as easily as the others had. Instead, I grabbed these large silver buttons between my index and third fingers and pulled straight outwards. I applied my full strength to my task. Another barrier had fallen. I pulled the savaged purple material free of Eimi's gorgeous legs. The ruined pants dropped to the bathroom floor.

Eimi stood before me, fresh and pure. The globes of her ass seemed larger once freed from their confinement. I could no longer contain myself. I dove forward, I'd I would die without it.

My inflamed last burned hot on the fuel of her fantastic body. That perfect ass, baked a golden brown both by birth and by the rays of the sun beckoned me forward. I tongued the faint tan lines made by some absent bikini. Her delicately seasoned and scented flesh reminded me of flowers. "Lavender," I said out loud between mouthfuls of ripe, lush, ass flesh.

How could I not want to eat her alive? She with the eyes shaped like almonds, licorice-coloured hair, and who oozed honey from her cleft? God created her to sustain me. My tongue darted between her ass cheeks, butting against the puckered oyster of her anus. The Guardians of her inner-spaces came together, bunching into a tight brown knot to deny me access.

Fuck that!

My stiffened tongue shoved the sentries aside as it burrowed deep into her castle courtyard. Eimi gasped, both in pleasure and in alarm.

"No," she pleaded. "I am filthy there."

I jabbed my tongue into her a few more times, as much for her speech as for my own pleasure. Her gasps made the rest of her words a babbling fountain of incoherence.

I rose in front of her, undoing the front clasps of her demi-bra. Her unfettered breasts did not change shape at all. Shit! She didn't need that bra for support in any way. She must have worn it only for looks. Perhaps it felt good against her skin. Right now, it was only an obstacle that had to be removed. I pulled it from her, undoing her laced hands to allow the garment to slip off her arms unhindered. I tossed the bra away. Eimi stood as I had left her, arms at her sides, mannequin-like. She waited for me to position her body in any manner I desired. I laughed. I'd found my very own fuck-toy. I tilted her head forward and kissed her mouth. She responded well, her tongue encircling mine and sucking it in. She seemed to enjoy me as much as I enjoyed her. I let her have her way with me for a few more moments before breaking off the kiss.

"Ready to bathe, my dear?" I asked her. I drew her bath and added some of my favourite soaps and oils to the water. Eimi stood unmoving, head back, eyes closed. Only now, her legs were closed and her hands placed demurely in front of her sex. Of course, this made her breasts compress together, emphasizing them. 

I had treated the water with the lavender and lilac oils and soaps, in deference to her preferred colour scheme and to the natural tastes and smells she seemed to possess. From this moment on, lilac and lavender would be her scents and her colours. I'd make sure that she had adequate clothes in those shades. Lilac. Lavender. Lilac and Lavender Livery. I giggled like an idiot. The alliteration pleased me almost as much as the woman did herself. Rarely did I enjoy myself so much, especially during a sexual encounter. Sex was a need, but seldom a pleasure for me. But Eimi. She seemed to bring out the child in me. This wasn't just sex. it was an adventure. The acts themselves were mundane, but seemed incredibly exciting when done with her. I wondered how far I could go with this game. 

"Are you ready for the bath, my dear?" I asked her. Her mouth parted, then closed again. She hesitated, seemingly confused. She nodded instead of speaking. I smiled. I had wondered whether she would speak out of turn or not. She was everything that I could have asked for. "Come to me," I commanded. I seized her by the moist valley between her legs and pulled her over to the bath. 

Eimi struck my hand away. All vestiges of the lust-induced torpor she had been in vanished. Her eyes glittered with anger. The orbs looked as livid as the angry purple bruise that graced her cheek.

"No," she said, wagging a perfectly sculpted opalized-violet fingernail at me. "Never touch me there. Never."

Eimi strode around me, lowering herself into the steaming hot bath I had drawn for her. Her eyes closed as she sunk into the foamy waves. Deep, contented sighs escaped her lips as the heated water and scented oils did their work on her tense body. I watched her in silence, confounded by her illogical outburst. Don't touch her there? Where, her snatch? I had been frigging that through her pants for a good ten minutes already! Was it the bare skin contact that bothered her, or the demeaning way I had pulled her over to me? No more demeaning than ripping up her clothes or pulling her around by the roots of her hair. I won't lie to you; I was perplexed.

When in the military, and later as a mercenary, one axiom had constantly been drilled into my head: When confused, inaction often means death. Act. Never simply react. With that in mind, I decided to continue our play as if nothing had happened.

More fool me, right?

I leaned over to Eimi and kissed her forehead, her ruined cheek. She flinched, but did not protest. My kisses made their way down the side of her neck, and to her smooth shoulders. My right hand plunged into the water, stroking her taut belly. She moaned softly, enjoying my touch. I massaged her stomach. The tight muscles relaxed, turning to soft pliant flesh beneath my kneading palm and fingers. I took her mouth again, my tongue luxuriating in the silken hot recesses that made the steaming bathwater feel cool by comparison. Our tongues duelled, fighting for supremacy. She felt much more aggressive than before. That was cool. This, too, excited me. I loved women with spirit. We continued to kiss as my hand stroked her stomach, and then slipped downwards towards her woman's place. Upon reaching it, I stroked its full length, from her anus, over her folds, right on up to her rock-hard clit in one long pass.

A small hand held me by the throat and pushed me backwards as the other hand caught me on the side of the face with its back. Eimi's lightning-quickness shocked me, as did her strength. That dainty hand felt like a chunk of tempered steel sheathed in satin. The blow brought stars to my vision. It had been so unexpected, I hadn't been able to prepare for it. The motes that obscured my vision cleared as Eimi rose from her bath. Caps of white froth clung to her high breasts, thighs and belly.

"You don't listen, Andrew Grissolm," she accused. "Don't touch me there. No one may." She shook in her rage, the tremors jiggling her foam-gilded breasts enticingly. "Why do you not just accept the things I'm giving you? Why do you seek more from me than I am willing to share?"

To say that she felt upset was to call a Tsunami a breaker in a wave pool. "This play is over," she announced, sounding like a hostess in a Japanese Soapland. "We talk price. Now."

"Price?" I repeated stupidly. I wish that I did not sound so flummoxed. My usually deep, baritone voice squeaked. If Eimi noticed, she did not say.

"Price. Time is money, Andrew Grissolm. One hundred and fifty dollars per half hour, as I stated when we first met. It's just past twelve. You owe me six hundred and fifty."

"Six hundred and fifty. Dollars. Ah. I see. Are you fucking ill?" My voice dropped low, well into the danger zone. I seized her by the upper arm. Hard. I felt my eyes open up, straining at the edges. My nostrils tingled, as they did when I became extremely agitated. I was well known for my hot temper. Back in the day, my comrades walked lightly when I was in this state. Ever see a bunch of ex-marines and British commandos pussyfooting around? Hilarious, I assure you. Well, Eimi would have none of it. Stature of a mouse, heart of a lion. Her jet eyes regarded me like she would a child who had yet to learn proper manners. She looked... embarrassed. My actions were beneath me, her pitying gaze said. 

"Release me immediately. You hurt me." 

Shit! How I longed to squeeze even harder, bear down until I felt her bones splinter beneath my grip. I had more than enough strength and skill to do so. Hell, I had been trained in the art of breaking bones and dislocating joints. Instead, I released her arm as she had requested.

Requested? Ordered, if I had to remain honest with myself.

Her arm now sported five reddish mars where my finger pads had dug into her tender flesh. Before my eyes, dark pools formed in the dents my fingers had made. The blood-marks bulged outwards slightly, like blisters. Eimi coolly eyed the damage done to her once-perfect, golden skin.

"Seven hundred, Andrew Grissolm." 'Andrew Grissolm.' How I'd grow to hate my name spoken in that special way she had when pissed off. "Six hundred by rate, fifty for my inconvenience, and another fifty because of your rough treatment of me. Must I add another hundred for my ruined clothing?"

My mouth worked soundlessly. Seven notes. Man, I hadn't even busted a nut yet! I'd be buggered if she saw a fucking cent.

"I don't pay for sex, Eimi," I reminded her.

"That's why you see so little of it," she countered. She climbed over the lip of the ivory, gold and white marble bathtub and stepped into the glass-encased shower unit in the corner of the room. The high-pressured burst of water rinsed the few remaining suds from her. She scrubbed her hair, and then squeezed it out. She flicked it over her shoulder. It smacked loudly against her back, hanging in one long black mass, a river of silken ebony strands. Fuck, I wanted that ass so badly, my nuts hurt. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

"I must dry myself and get ready for bed. Please leave the light on and the door open in the chamber I am to occupy. I sleep nude, so no sleepwear need be provided for me. Have a suitable set of clothes ready for me in the morning. I intend to leave here quite early."

"Anything else," I asked wryly.

"My fee, of course. Did I truly have to mention it again? Have my money ready."

Eimi industriously started to dry herself with the plush, terry-pile bath sheet. I noticed that she spent an inordinate amount of time on her breasts and cunt. Ah... her breathing was getting harder! She was bringing herself off, right before my eyes. I started to take a step toward her when she spoke again.

"You are not needed here, Andrew Grissolm. Go and do what I asked you to." She moved the thick towelling away from her cunt and spread the flaps of her box open, exposing her aroused clit to me. Its engorged, raw looking length poked out at me, as rigid as a little prick. Eimi's thumb rapidly skated over it. Her digit blurred as it flicked over her pleasure button. Her chest heaved as she worked on herself. The barest hint of bright pink tongue peeked out from the corner of her mouth, practically gleaming against her lips. Her hot body was a stark contrast to her frosty eyes. They pinioned me in place with their icy stare. She did this to punish me, I realized. "Look what you could have had, if you hadn't fucked it all up," her eyes seemed to say. Her dark, accusing eyes crept closed as she began to whimper. She was close. 

Man, I couldn't take any more of this. I fled the bathroom. The shrill cries of Eimi's self-induced orgasm echoed in the hallway. Annoyed, I slammed the bathroom door shut. It didn't help. Her screams of rapture reverberated in my brain. I was still horny, no doubt, but I felt something else that drained all of the lust out of me.

Shame.

I felt small as I stood naked in the hallway. My hangdog-penis seemed to mirror my feelings. My behaviour in the bath was no different that the actions of those two thugs in the alley. I had done something to her body that she explicitly told me not to do. Perhaps the scale differed, but the infraction remained the same. I was no better in her eyes than those two rapists. That shouldn't matter to me. Hey, she was just a slut rented out by the hour, right? Three hundred bones per hour, at that!

Unfortunately, it did matter. It mattered a great deal. 

It was with a heavy heart that I went to prepare Eimi's room. Preparing it took moments only. After all, I lived here alone and I stayed mostly on the third floor. As requested, I left the light on and the door open, then I took off for my rooms on third. Yeah. Pathetic. Some tough guy I was. Leave it to me to tuck my tail between my legs - or prick, in this particular case - and run away from a hundred pound, five-foot-something woman. Fuck, the situation seemed hilarious, even to me! I had, through a rather Byzantine process, hired a hooker, failed to fuck her, and now was going upstairs to whack myself off. Worse, I was on the hook for seven C's for the bloody privilege. Ludicrous.

I laughed as I climbed the circular staircase to the third floor. My day had started badly, remained rotten, and had ended up worse than I could have ever imagined. I prayed that tomorrow would be better.

Yeah, I know. I should have known better.



Ember & Ashe Ch. 3



Dawn rose, casting its unwanted rays at me through the windows. The solar darts prickled my skin, and made beads of sweat appear on my brow. As much as I wanted to remain in bed, I knew I couldn't. The blasted sun wouldn't let me. She wouldn't let me. Eimi Yoshikawa. Today she'd leave.

I showered quickly, shaved, then splashed on a little Halston Catalyst. A bone coloured, long-sleeved shirt, a pair of khaki twill pants and a natural brown, zip-necked cashmere sweater slipped onto my body as if by themselves while I pondered the upcoming confrontation. What could I say to her, I wondered. I still didn't understand why a whore would get so upset over someone fondling her privates. Well, understanding wouldn't come by me standing here all morning. I left for the second floor to find her. The bedroom I had given her to use the night before lay empty. The bathroom looked equally devoid of life. Room by room I searched. My bare feet made no sound on the gleaming oak parquet flooring. Would she have left without saying goodbye? If angered enough, perhaps. My heart lodged in my throat at the thought of never seeing her again. Angrily, I pushed the feeling away, shoving it down into the depths from whence it had risen. She wouldn't leave without getting her money first.

I stifled a yawn as I continued searching for her. My horniness had taunted me throughout the entire night. My futile attempts at relieving myself only further aggravated my condition. I didn't crave my own hand, but Eimi's flesh. She made a hot, all-encompassing fury burn within my breast. It tormented me without surcease. Not like the weak flicker Heather had caused. I laughed. I didn't miss her at all. We had dated on and off for almost a year, and she held no place in my heart. What kind of witchcraft did the little Asian possess that made me slaver for her like I did? I had a number of women on file I could call. Women who would give themselves to me without hesitation. But I didn't want them. It made no fucking sense! A starving man wouldn't refuse to dine from a stranger's plate, but I did. I only wanted to sup from Eimi's honeypot. Ludicrous. Still, I couldn't change the facts. My condition knew one source, and one antidote only.

Eimi Yoshikawa. 

It must be her, and no other. Just saying her name in my mind made my penis throb in anticipation, as if her name summoned up my libido from the depths in which it had been interred hours earlier. I slapped my prick in annoyance, pissed off that last night it had failed me, and now it stirred to life at the mere thought of the enemy. I went to the second floor kitchen to get myself some breakfast. Perhaps some food would settle my stomach and clear my mind. I turned the corner, then quickly pulled back lest Eimi spot me. My cock throbbed again, extending itself to its full-length. Blasted woman! Must I speak of her in euphemisms to prevent my body from acting this way? Who was this enchantress who created this all-consuming passion within my loins? I thought of other things. My war experiences. Seeing people die of hunger and disease. Fat, ugly broads! Anything I could do to rid myself of the hateful erection that sought to humiliate me in front of her. Slowly, my cock heeded my wishes and shrunk back to normal.

She busied herself at the centre island and the stove top. She had miso soup on the element, with rice steaming in the cooker. Some various Japanese pickles sat contentedly in a bowl while two large fish steaks, cut lengthwise, grilled nicely on the tabletop broiler. The scent of maple-glazed salmon perfumed the kitchen. A most Canadian twist to a Japanese dish. I smiled, feeling secure in my hiding place.

"Please be seated. Breakfast's almost ready," she said. She had not turned. "Soap and spice," she replied, answering my unasked question. I made a mental note to myself to start using a more subtle fragrance. This 'cinnamon and cloves' thing was becoming quite unsettling. I sat at the table and watched her. She seemed at home in the kitchen. No, it was more than that. She seemed happy to be in this kitchen, to have a place of her very own. She wore no makeup this morning. A red and orange scarf pulled her hair back into a ponytail. The yukata – the thin, unlined cotton kimono – fit her perfectly. The loose-fitting garment accented the gentle swell of her beautiful breasts and hips. Tabi socks hugged her dainty little feet. No zori, though. I'd have to remember to buy her a pair. All she lacked were the tatami-woven, oval tipped sandals. She certainly could play the part of a contented Japanese housewife enjoying her Saturday morning. I felt pleasure just watching her bustle about that kitchen.

She quickly served me my breakfast. Salmon and soup, pickles and rice. Green tea, of course. What meal would be complete without it? "Andrew, eat," she said. She sat, staring at me. It looked like she'd not begin until I did. I picked up my rice bowl and my chopsticks, intending to eat my breakfast. "Oh, I almost forgot!" She deftly cracked an egg on the flat tabletop and plopped it onto my bowl of rice. Yolk and albumen jiggled on my breakfast like freshly brought up mucus from a person with a chest cold. I poked at my rice bowl with my chopsticks, half expecting the contents to scream back at me.

"Eat, Andrew." Eimi's downcast eyes focussed solely on her food. She had not started yet. Her eyes blinked rapidly. "Why will you not eat?" she asked. Her low pitched, raspy voice filled with exasperation. Well, I had eaten less savoury things than raw egg in my time. Mind you, that had been a matter survival, and not on some pushy broad's say-so. Still, I had no desire to upset her again. I still felt guilty about my boorish behaviour last night. I put the bowl to my mouth and started to eat. The faint clacking noises of wooden chopsticks on her black and lavender laquerware bowl told me she did the same.

The fine breakfast put me in a happy frame of mind. Most food will, when you don't have to eat it alone and someone you care about prepares it for you. I wished it could be like this every morning. Eimi gathered up the dishes and placed them into the dishwasher. When she finished, she sat across from me, with hands flat on the tabletop. 

     "We must speak, you and I," she said. Her voice held a faint quiver in it, one that had been missing the night before. Her eyes still refused to meet mine. "I must leave here, Andrew. Today. You laid out no clothes last night like I asked. Please find something suitable for me to wear outdoors."

I supposed that I could. I had been heavily into fetish photography for the last couple of years. That meant I had a whole basement full of pretty things she could use. More than just clothes, let me tell you.

More about that some other time.

"I may have something in your size," I said to her. "But it won't come cheap."

"What's the price?" Her even voice held no tremor at all. Eimi knew the difference between conversation and business.

"Oh, about seven hundred dollars, I'd say." A beautiful smile graced Eimi's face, but she quickly smothered it. Luckily I hadn't blinked just then. I would have missed it.

"You'd have me work for nothing, Andrew? Unfair. A woman must be permitted to feed herself."

"You found the fridge on your own. It will never run empty."

"And clothing?"

"I'll provide it."

"Accommodations?"

"The second floor is yours, if you wish it."

She said nothing for a long time. "No," she decided. "I will not stay here and live at your mercy. Please find me some clothing. I will pay your price. Seven hundred dollars in return for the outfit." She still refused to look at me.

"Enough of this shit." I leaped to my feet and darted around the table. I towered over her, a black mountain of muscle, attitude and irritation. "Look at me, Eimi."

She shook her head.

"Please do me the honour of looking at me when I address you, Yoshikawa Eimi." My Japanese, even though rough, had the desired effect. My words struck her like a blow. The phrase, though polite, had been delivered in an angry tone. Perhaps a touch more forceful than I had intended, but man, I was so fed up with this bullshit! She looked up at me, her face still bruised. Her cheek looked a brownish-yellow this morning. Anger glittered in my eyes like a blade's keen edge. I felt it strip away her resolve, one thin sliver at a time.

"You spit upon me. I offer you food, clothing and shelter. What else do you expect from me?"

"Your respect," she answered. Her voice had that raspy quality again. "Your acceptance. Your trust. Your guidance. Your support." Her voice gained clarity and speed as she spoke. "None of these things exist when I am with you. If they do not come, I'll not remain." 

    I blinked in confusion and reorganized the last few sentences in my brain. It had been a long time since I had to translate rapid-fire Japanese, and sadly, I was out of practice. Slowly, the salient points emerged from her diatribe. My jaw clenched shut in response. The nerve of this bitch! Charging me seven notes for a little groping, and then sounding off about respect? Fuck. Whores these days!

"Eimi." I held her gently by the shoulders and looked down into her eyes. She looked back into mine with a little trepidation, larded with a great deal of expectation. I don't know what she expected me to say, but I had a lot to get off my chest. "I've known you for little over twelve hours. When we met, you were offering me sex in a back alley. What kind of respect should I have for you? Trust? I left you unsupervised in my home. For all I know, you could have been a sneak thief, and ripped me off blind, or knifed me in my sleep. Acceptance? I'll never judge you for things you've done in your past, only for things you do to me in the future. Strike me again," I tightened my grip upon her slim shoulders, "and I'll make you wish that you hadn't. Last night's bathroom scene was the first and only time you'll ever raise your hand to me and get away with it." 

"Andrew –"

"Hush." I placed a finger across Eimi's lips. "Guidance? Tell me what you wish to achieve, and I'll do my best to help you. But we'll get there in my way, not yours. Now, you owe me for last night's little aborted tryst, Eimi. Let's see about making things square, shall we?"

Eimi opened her lips to speak, but I kissed her instead. Her rapid breathing told me of her increasing desire. Her eyes flickered open, sparkling with an intense passion that had been absent this morning. "Good. Now pleasure me." I pulled her to her feet and loosened the obi, the orange and white sash that held her yukata closed. Her tiny hands sought to brush mine away from the obi's knot. I took them gently in hand and placed them at her sides. The affectionate peck I placed on the tip of her nose made her giggle. "Relax, Eimi." I pulled the obi free of the yukata. Her robe opened up, showing me a tantalizing glimpse of her delightful tanned body. She wore nothing beneath the robe. I slowly pushed the yukata down over her shoulders and arms, revealing more of her body, inch by glorious inch. She stood naked before me, wearing only her tabi socks. Her fully erect, burnished copper nipples demanded attention. I rolled them between my index finger and thumb as I kissed her. Eimi's tongue sought out mine. I stepped closer to her and massaged her firm buttocks. "Please me." My repeated command slit her restraint wide open. She dropped to her knees and stared at my now erect penis. She took it in her hands and hefted its weight, as if inspecting a melon. Her eyes lifted from her labours and looked me a question.

I reached down a hand to stroke her silken hair. I playfully tugged on her ponytail. "I'll leave the flow of the play to you, Eimi. Just get me off. My head's going to explode if I don't blow off some pressure soon. I'm suffering."

I could feel joy radiate from her in heated waves as she got back to work. Her small, skilled hands worked over my thick black member with a fantastic technique. Her slim hands played over the heated skin of my prick. Her touch seemed to infuse every nerve in my cock with a bolt of lightning. My flesh felt so alive, it effervesced. Her dainty hands played over my meat like a blind man's finger tips did braille. She discovered every vein, every fold of skin with her meticulous, questing touch.

At no time did her mouth come in contact with me. But it was close. Oh, so close! Her thin, pouty mouth, slightly opened, breathed its sweet breath on me. The moist air that exited her nostrils tickled my skin. She looked at me through half closed eyes, her long black lashes shielding her gaze from me. Not that my eyes remained open for long. Soon, her talented hands forced them to close, scrunched shut from the exquisite torture she subjected me to.

A blast of liquid heat scalded my flesh. My eyes flickered open, just in time to see a glob of spittle clinging tremorously to the head of my cock. She grabbed the head of my prick in the palm of her hand, and curled her fingers underneath it, just tickling the glans. She rotated her hand about its crown, as if polishing a brass doorknob. Her other hand slid down my shaft and into the curly nest that covered my balls. She stroked them, her dexterous finger tips manipulating them with finesse while her other hand rapidly jacked off my shaft. All the while, her mouth, slightly parted, kept tantalizing me with its heated breath. So close. I just had to fall forward. That would be all it would take. My cock would jam into her mouth, force its way past her parted lips, and lodge itself into the welcoming vice of her throat.

But is that what she wanted? Last night, I had taken more than she had offered, and had paid the price. Today, I had promised that she, not I, would control the play. As much as I wanted to, I didn't take advantage of her. Although I did grab her head to stroke her luxurious black hair, I in no way forced her head toward me. I contented myself with the delightful feelings that her talented hands brought me.

I watched her in fascination as she jerked off my prick. The skin of my cock bunch forward towards the head, rippling like the accordioned flesh of an obese woman's torso, then smoothing out, as smooth as the sheerest satin when she pulled it taut between her hands. Her magnificent touch ran over the protruding veinwork of my penis. She applied more saliva. The stuff heated up under her constant friction like motor oil in a cylinder. Her fist was so wet and tight, it felt like a second cunt.

It was all too much. No way could I hold out any longer. My campaign to have an orgasm had commenced the day previous. I was ready to go off.

The geyser welled up in my gut. It felt as if I'd vomit, the need was so bad. Then I went off. Great gouts of seed fired out of my mahogany cannon. Eimi directed the blasts toward her breasts. She played in the creamy shots with delight. She continued to jack me off in her unique style as she massaged my spunk into the skin of her tits. Finally, it ended. Eimi kissed my cock-head, snaking a pink tongue along the slit. She worked out a couple of drops that had been lingering there. She washed my entire prick with her nimble tongue before tucking me back into my grey slacks. Her impish grin spoke of the happiness she felt. She looked vibrant. Her eyes practically glowed with affection, like an ember suddenly igniting after laying cold in an unattended fireplace for years.

Ember ...

I laughed out loud while stroking Ember's hair. She nestled her face against my groin. "Did I please you?" she asked. 

"Yes you did, Ember. Very much."

She looked up at me with delight. "And you please me. My heart is full."

"Me? I didn't do anything. I just stood here and enjoyed."

"Yes. You accepted my gifts without asking for more," she replied. "And you said that you needed me." Her arms circled around my waist. She hugged me, her ear pressing into my crotch. It actually became uncomfortable. Her two golden arms clenched me to her in a vice-like grip. But hey, I wasn't going to spoil her good mood again. I felt her shuddering against me. I moved her head back so I could see her face. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Ember." I drew her upwards, and kissed her. I delighted in everything that she was, and everything that she did. I had no doubt that she'd choose to stay with me from now on.

"Release me. I must wash."

Personally, I loved a woman who walked around naked with my spunk drying on her tits and stomach, but that could just be personal preference. I waved my assent.

"When I return, we must discuss a few things."

Shit. "Such as," I asked her.

"What does 'Ember' mean, to start."

"You don't like it?" 

"I do. It sings in my heart. I just do not know the word."

"Fine." I relaxed. So far, conversation with Ember always meant trouble. We got along great as long as we didn't speak too much. "What else?"

"The remainder of my fee, of course." She stooped over to retrieve her yukata and obi from the floor. I laid a hand on her bare buttocks. I gently massaged them.

"Your what?" I asked her. "I thought we settled that up. Seven hundred for the clothing."

"Indeed, Andrew. But I have been here for twelve hours now. That is thirty-six hundred dollars. Minus your seven hundred, you still owe me two thousand nine hundred."

I smacked her bottom. The brutally hard stroke made a satisfying crack. Ember leaped up, dropping her clothing. She rubbed her abused ass with both of her hands.

"Rough play costs extra, Andrew. Beware."

"You're fucking with me! You can't be serious."

"I am always serious about sex and income."

Indeed. For Ember, it meant the same thing. She stood still, staring at me with her dark eyed gaze. Waiting.

"Fine. You'll have your money. But we must renegotiate your pay scale. Perhaps work out some kind of bulk rate. You'll beggar me in short order this way."

She danced over to me on tiptoe and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "There. Was that so hard for you?" She said.

"You have no fucking idea."

"You must be willing to pay for the good things in life, Andrew Grissolm. Pay a little, gain little. Pay a lot, gain the world." She laughed as she ran out of the kitchen. Her long obi trailed behind her for a split-second before slipping around the corner like a serpent streaking into its bolthole.

I shook my head. I had abandoned my personal code when I had agreed to pay for sex. But somehow, I couldn't feel sorry about it. Ember was worth every cent. Best not tell her that, though. She might adjust her rates in the wrong direction.

I went into the bathroom. She stood in the glass encased shower unit. A sweet-sounding melody echoed through the room. Something about finding a lost child after searching for a long time in the wilderness, and the joy that their reunion brought her. If I was to keep Ember around here from now on, I'd really have to bone up of my Japanese. It was sadly lacking.

I sat upon the side of the ornate marble bathtub and listened to her melodious voice. She sounded like I felt. Happy, and with no reservations. Horrible things might happen tomorrow, but I'd make sure that today was fantastic for both of us. I resolved to enjoy my life while the good times lasted. I'd be sure to enjoy Ember a few more times today as well. I quickly stripped out of my clothing and stepped into the shower with her. She turned, greeting me with a smile that held my world in it. I flipped her around and pushed her gently against the glass wall of the shower stall. My hands roamed freely over her water-slickened skin. Her singing stopped. I curled one arm around her waist, and stroked her belly as my other hand massaged the firm globes of her ass. I pushed my index finger against her asshole. She sucked in her breath sharply. I gently worked it inside her. Her song started again, this one a tune of heated arousal. I continue to stroke her belly and breasts as I reamed her anus with my finger. Her sighs of pleasure told me she enjoyed the treatment, as did the perfect ass that bucked against my thrusting hand. Oh yes, I'd be sure to enjoy my day.




Ember & Ashe Ch. 3



But where the hell was I going to get $3,000 at this early hour?



Ember & Ashe Ch. 4



The next couple of months flew by. Ember took to her new role quickly. And why shouldn’t she? I paid her two grand a week just for breathing. Hey, I know it sounds like a lot, but consider the alternative. I know you already know what I'm talking about.

Our problems had healed as completely as the bruise on Ember's cheek. She merrily went about the business of cooking, cleaning and shopping.

Domestic, oppressive bullshit, you say? Real women aren't chained to the kitchen nowadays? Yeah, I know. I used to pay people to do that stuff for me. Well, she didn't like the idea of complete strangers traipsing around her home. Her words, not mine. She made me dismiss all of the help except for a cleaning service that was to come in once a month to do a complete top to bottom on all seven buildings. Believe me when I say that she watched these people closely. Not one for trust, my little Asian doll.

So did our days pass, full, and happy. Well, kind of happy. You see, though she'd get me off anytime I asked -- and sometimes when I didn't! -- I still hadn't done anything with her. No anal, no half and half, nothing. Just hand jobs. Mind blowing, top-tier hand jobs, mind you, but boring after awhile. Just like the way top sirloin starts to taste like Salisbury steak after the third straight month of it for supper.

This, my friends, made me woefully unhappy. I like to know that I am getting my money's worth. With Ember, I felt shortchanged. But I had plans in the works to change all of this.

My scheming began the first Saturday the cleaners arrived. Ember had noted that they steered clear of the basement. I rescued the fellows from an unwarranted blast of shit from my beautiful Japanese taskmistress by intervening on their behalf.

"Ember, they have instructions to stay out of the basement."

She dismissed the help with a wave of her petite hand. They scuttled away quickly, like insects from under a suddenly lifted stone. "Why? Do you not wish it cleaned?"

"It's my private space. I'll clean it, if required."

"I see." Ember left, off to supervise the cleaners. I smiled to myself. I had planted the seed. Now to add water and sun to allow it to sprout.

For almost two weeks I heard nothing more on the subject. Then, without warning, Ember cornered me in the backyard. So began the Great Asian Inquisition.

"You do no work, Andrew. How is it that you can afford me?" Her furrowed brow and pursed lips betrayed her annoyance even more sharply than her acid tone did. Ember oozed unhappiness like a swamp did methane. I recoiled from the bitterness that assailed my senses.

Shit. She was in one of those moods.

Today Ember wore a green dress, gathered at the waist by a braided, pale yellow belt. Black, strappy, Grecian-laced calf-high sandals adorned her petite feet. Her globular, firm breasts made pleasing mounds in the tight fitting bodice of the dress. As usual, she wore little makeup. Her natural beauty needed no enhancement. Her thick, jet black hair fell around her shoulders, framing her narrow face. Impenetrable almond-shaped eyes regarded me closely. Her bee-stung lips pursed tightly in thought. This was a woman who wouldn't tolerate being fucked around with. Not today, at least.

"I manage," I said cryptically.

"So I see. How do you manage?" 

"Very well, actually."

"You mock me." Ember strolled over to me and ran her lithe fingers across my cheek. Suddenly, before I could react, her tiny hand grasped a clump of my dreadlocks in a death grip. Her other hand latched onto my little son sleeping peacefully in my trousers. She squeezed.

"It is not right to keep secrets from me, Andrew Grissolm." The pressure on my gonads increased. My balls screamed in protest.

"Christ, Ember. Stop that, girl!" I made to remove her hand from my groin, but a sharp tug from her golden grip stopped me short. Here I was, a six-foot plus, 230 pound black wall of solid muscle being manhandled by a petite Japanese woman who weighed next to nothing. I would've laughed if it wasn't my nuts being smeared into peanut butter.

"Shit, I give," I said, laughing through my tears. She slackened her grip on my nuts. She didn't release my hair, though.

"I'm an artist and photographer."

"An artist, you say?" She considered this for a few moments. "This I can believe. You do have an artist's soul. However," she tugged a handful of my dreadlocks sharply, "few artists can live like you do. What else do you do?"

"Well, let me show you. Let's go to the basement."

"You work down there?"

"I do. Come down and see." I allowed her to lead me inside the house and to the basement door. I punched in the combination on the digital lock, and opened it. I made no attempt to conceal the sequence from her. I watched her lips move silently, repeating the key sequence over and over. "Don't strain your brain, Kitten. I'm going to reprogram the lock as soon as we come back up." This earned me a scathing glare and another sharp tug on the dreads.

One day, I'd learn to shut the fuck up.

Down we went. We passed many doors, all of them locked just as the door to the basement had been. I led her to the photography studio.I opened up the room. Inside was sound and light equipment, a darkroom, a PC with all of the necessary peripherals and software, camera backdrops and props, and other such equipment. I turned to her. "See? Photography. That is my medium of choice."

"What could you be photographing to make you so wealthy? State secrets?"

She had a quick mind. I had counted on that. "Let me show you." I strode over to the computer and turned it on. I selected a disc at random from the spindles that covered the desk and dropped it into the CD-ROM drive. I motioned for Ember to sit down. She did so, finally releasing my hair. I didn't doubt that she'd run me down like a drunkard through a busy intersection at happy hour if I made a dash for the door, though. She split her attention between the monitor screen and me. Once the PC booted up, I initiated the picture slide show program. I configured it to change images once every three seconds. I parked myself about three yards away, well out of hair-grabbing range. 

The presentation started out pretty tame, featuring girls in fetish gear. Lots of PVC and leather, latex and surgical steel. Kinky looking and incredibly sexy, but still pretty vanilla stuff. As the slides progressed, the images got a tad harder in nature. Partial and full immobilization. Tight bondage and mummification. Tit torture. Suspension. Of course, the requisite spankings and canings were well represented. All the funky stuff that people love to watch, if not participate in. I loved participating in severe kink, personally.

But did she? That is what I wanted to discover.

Ember's eyes didn't leave the screen. I couldn't tell what she thought. Would she accept this, or be totally turned off? Sure, she used to whore for living, but Ember remained the most ethical person I had ever encountered. What would she think?

"Andrew," she said as she turned towards me. "Please come here." She motioned me over towards her. I went over and looked at the screen. A blond woman was on her knees in front of a black man who grasped her by the hair. She choked around a large mouthful of ebony cock. Her mouth stretched around it, the orifice jammed so full it looked like her jaw would dislocate. About two inches of cock projected out of her stretched lips. The man's heavily scarred body marked him. I winced inwardly. Maybe she'd not notice?

Yeah. Sure.

The woman wore a Baby-D collar, a crimson leather band with D-ring accents around her neck. A leather blindfold obscured her vision. The tight lacings of her opera gloves kept her arms pinioned behind her back. Her tight, red leather body harness crisscrossed her body in an intricate web of leather and steel O-Rings. Fishnet stockings and jet, six inch heeled pumps adorned her perfectly moulded legs and feet. Her ass cheeks and breasts glowed a vibrant red, a scarlet brighter than her leather accessories. Her abused flesh sported the marks from a recent paddling.

Fuck. I'd forgotten all about those. I had taken part in that photo shoot. That blonde, Alicia, had been so foxy that I couldn't resist her. She'd been bragging that she could handle any cock. Well, I showed her! She only got half of my prick in her before she started to gag on it. By the time I pulled out of her, she had lost consciousness. I really enjoyed fucking the shit out of her. My cock twitched at the fond memories of her screams of delight. Oh yes. Alicia. That chick had been an intensity freak like no other. Pain was always a welcome visitor with her. I had ditched her within three days. I'd never cared much for blood sports. A man who wanted to live a long time had to stay away from that shit. Besides, Fate had sliced up my body enough. I'd be buggered if I let some doped up cunt cut me up for shits and giggles.

Ember's voice dragged me out of my reverie. "Andrew. Is that black man you?"

My scars identified me like a thumbprint. It made no sense to lie. "Yeah. It is."

Ember stared at the screen for a bit, and then flicked to the next picture. Action shots. Me ramming my cock in, then yanking my cock out. Alicia's semi-conscious frame jostling under the violent thrusts from my anaconda. Alicia bound in a ceiling swing, getting her ass stretched by my four inch wide pile driver. Ember flipped through a few dozen more pictures before getting up from the computer. "Did you enjoy this woman?"

"Thoroughly. Are those of photos of a bored man?"

"She has truly poor technique. Are you fresh?"

I indicated that I was. Ember always insisted that I bathe before sex, even though she limited that to only hand jobs. She quickly shucked me of my pants, and then grasped my little son in her talented grip. She didn't neglect my boys, either. All my children basked in the glow of her affection. Before long, I was at maximum hardness, my cockhead a fat juicy plum, with two slightly smaller ones dangling underneath the shaft. I wish mere words could describe how wonderful her touch felt. Ember had skills like no other woman alive. Her stroke was as faint as a thought, as hot as unfulfilled desire. My prick resided in a happy, happy place. I shut my eyes and thrust my hips forward, content to savor her expert manual technique.

Imagine my shock when I felt her hot little mouth on the head of my cock. Her tongue worked around it feverishly, slicking it down with her saliva. My incredulous eyes popped open and looked down. I gazed upon the impossible.

Ember had her hands of my thighs, grabbing them tightly as she choked down my rod. No way could she take it all! I tapped her on the shoulder. "Ease up, Ember. You'll hurt yourself."

Her eyes blazed at me before snapping back to the penis that defied her. I suppose the injury was already done! Seeing Alicia gobbling my cock had shook something loose in her. She was out to show me what real dick sucking was all about.

Her desire raged strong within her, but Ember was constructed only of mortal flesh. Slowly, she eased off of my prick, grudgingly giving ground. She retained only the bulbous head of it in her mouth. She shifted her hands for my thighs to my waist, and held on tightly. "No fucking way ... " I began. Then she drove her face forward with a force that almost knocked me over. She swallowed my shaft right to the root. Her throat swelled up obscenely with my tool lodged inside there, like the gorget of a bullfrog about to croak. She held me in this position, breathing hard through her nose.

"Ember! Stop! You don't have to do this." She looked at me again, anger still flickering in her eyes. She kept her eyes locked on mine as she swallowed. Delightful ripples mashed my cock in her throat, sending me to oblivion. My pleasure mounted, vaulting ever higher. My legs buckled when she performed an unbelievable act. Tiny little Ember, with her face jammed full of four-inch diameter prick, slithered her long hot tongue out and prodded my balls with it. I'd never experienced such a thing. Fuck, I'd no idea it was even possible! Bloody incredible. The sensations and visuals sent me into a second realm of pleasure.

"God, Ember. You love feasting on me, don't you?" I asked. "Yes. I've never felt anything like this before. Only you could do this for me. Only you." My low, guttural voice had dropped into this whisper all on its own. Fuck. It was a miracle I could speak at all! I ran my fingers through her midnight-black, silken tresses. "You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you? Especially if you thought that another woman could do it better. Is this what drives you? The need to be the best lover I've ever had?" Her eyes changed. They softened, becoming those tender things a woman besotted by love or lust wore. The more I spoke to her, the more contented her gaze became.

Contented, and horny.

I worked my penis in and out of her throat, the visual stimulation as great as the tactile. Seeing her lips stretched so wide to accommodate me, then my dark brown meat vanishing into her face while her throat swelled up like the belly of a woman at nine months ... man! It was something to see firsthand. I moved with a more rapid rhythm, and with increasing force. Her head rocked back and forth as I plunged in and out of her tight oral orifice.

"Yes, Ember. You're mine, aren't you? My own personal Japanese cum-slut. You crave my cock. My seed. Well, they're all yours. Take them." I shoved into her as hard as I could. Her eyes opened, lit with a fierce joy I've rarely seen in another human being. She salivated constantly, the thick streams of spittle running down her chin as I fucked her face wildly. God, how I loved doing this to her!

"Take it, Ember. Take it all!" My words, not my phallus, turned her into a naughty toy driven wild with sluttish abandon. That realization thrilled me. At last, I had found the key to Ms. Yoshikawa's sexuality. Bet your sweet ass that I'd be sure to use it often.

I thrust into her once more, but did not withdraw. I wanted to push her boundaries back a bit. "Hold it in as long as you can," I told her. "Milk me with your throat. When you can't handle it any longer, tap my thighs with both hands. But know that the longer you hold it in, the more pleased that I'll be with you. I'll tap you on the shoulder in five minutes time, signaling the end of our play. Commence."

Ember closed her eyes. Her throat relaxed on my thick member. Pacing herself, I figured. Fuck that. I wasn't going to make things easy for her! Neither would I cheat. That wouldn't be sporting. I'd limit my interference to speaking.

"Ah, Ember. You're making me so very happy with your mouth. I hadn't thought this possible for you. You're so tiny. How could I've thought you could handle cock this thick? It feels so good. Work that throat for me, Kitten. Milk me of my seed."

Her throat tightened around me. It gave me a few quick pulses, then ceased. Her eyes flickered open, shooting stark disapproval at me before closing again. I chuckled. She was at war with herself. Ember had an overwhelming desire to please me, but also had overwhelming pride. She both wanted to satisfy my lust, and to satisfy her desire to beat me. By relaxing herself, she would easily last the five minutes. By making me come early, she'd guarantee my pleasure. In truth, either one was fine with me! I'd set up a classic win-win situation. The real question was which outcome would give her the most personal satisfaction?

I'd find out soon enough, I wagered.

I kept up the stream of dirty talk. Ember hiked up her green sun dress and diddled herself, perhaps to distract herself from the burning lump sitting lodged inside her throat. Imagine a big chunk of meat wedged in your throat, a lump that you couldn't cough up or swallow. Fuck. Talk about miserable! I glanced at my watch. Three minutes, twenty seconds. Wow. Could she actually win this thing?

Her hand moved faster, flicking her clitoris. She pinched her nipples through the thin green crepe. Her throat worked with hard, involuntary squeezes, not the controlled contractions like before. Shit. She was gagging!

"Playtime is over, Ember. I'm pulling out." I placed my hands on her shoulders and slowly pushed off of her. She contemptuously slapped my hands away. "Don't you dare. I am going to win this thing," her angry stare told me. She pressed back down on me, forcing my prick all the way down her ever-expanding throat.

I can't tell you how proud I felt at that moment. I knew she was brazen and stubborn. I'd have to add courageous to the list. Only thirty seconds left. Her convulsions came faster. Hot tears streamed down her face, the thin rivulets collecting on her chin before dripping onto her breastbone and disappearing down her sundress. Ten seconds ... nine ... eight. Her motions became desperate. She splayed her fingers open on the sides of my thighs. The desire not to smack at my legs revealed itself through her shuddering limbs. Her hands opened and closed spasmodically on my legs. She'd give in shortly. What choice did she have? I could imagine the pain she was in, the overwhelming physical distress. I glanced at my watch once more. Time plus five. Time plus six.

Fuck me. She'd done it!

I lovingly ran my fingers through her thick hair. "You've beaten me, Ember. Time's up."

She yanked herself off of me. A thick cable of gooey spittle connected her lips to my rod. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her breath came in ragged gulps, her lungs greedily sucking in air denied to her for over five minutes. This liquid-pearl diver could put any pearl diver in the South Pacific to shame. What breath control she displayed! I gently kissed her forehead as I played with the long, soft black hair I loved so much. There was a reason I called her Kitten. "You've succeeded, Ember. You've exceeded all of my expectations. I'm extremely proud to have you."

She looked up at me with her mischievous grin. "Then, I must claim my reward." She stuck my prick back in her mouth and worked it over. This time it wasn't solely deep throat. Her teeth, tongue and lips all got into the action. I found heaven at that moment. It existed in Ember's warm, gripping mouth.

With talents like that, how could I hold back? She bore down on me with a vicious energy, nibbling around the corona of my glans while mashing my balls in her diminutive grip. My moans spurred her on to more creative efforts. A professionally manicured fingertip probed at the thick muscular doorway to my rectum, causing me no small discomfort. I shied away from her, inadvertently pushing more of myself into her mouth. She clamped down on me with her teeth. My sphincter reflexively tightened into a tight brown fist of muscle, then relaxed. She had waited for this.

Her finger shot forward, violating my virgin ass. She plowed her finger in and out of my ass hole without pity. That was it for me! I exploded, filling her firm tummy with my soul sauce. She greedily swallowed my ejaculate, drawing every last sperm out of me before pushing me away.

I fell back upon the ground, utterly spent. Ember leaped on top of me, sliding her bare crotch over my chest, coating it with a slickness all of her own devising. She rubbed her essence into my chest, as if it was the finest quality lotion. In this way, she marked me as her own. She leaned over my face, her hair masking the outer world from my view. My universe was now Ember, my entire world her inscrutable gaze.

"How do you feel, Ashe?"

"Fucking great!"

"No regrets?"

"None whatsoever." I strained my head upwards, attempting to land a peck on her nose. She easily avoided my attempt at intimacy. Kitten felt aggressive! Best to slow down, and let her have her moment. She'd earned it.

"Then let this be the end of your brooding, Andrew Grissolm. I will do everything in my power to make you happy, and to keep you so. But I cannot help you if you refuse to tell me when you are troubled."




Ember & Ashe Ch. 4



"I do tell you!"

"You do not."

I thought about it. Could it be that I was in the wrong? I cast my mind back, trying to recall if I had ever voiced my displeasure with her. To my embarrassment, I realized that I have never done so. Sure, I had sulked, pouted and otherwise hinted that I was unhappy, but never had I said anything to her.

My little son became little in truth. My libido shrank to the size of my withered, tired cock. The Dead Sea had a higher elevation than my ego at the moment.

"No need for melancholia, Ashe," she said to me, kissing both of my hastily-closed eyelids. I do not seek your embarrassment. Only your understanding. If you are unhappy, please let me know. Do not leave me to guess."

I smiled up at her. How could I resist such pretty eyes such as hers? "I'll do so."

"Promise?"

"I promise." This time, I landed a peck right on the tip of her cute, button nose. She giggled girlishly.

"One more thing, Ashe."

"Name it." I caressed her ass as she slid her shaved box across my muscular chest. 

"What is in those other locked rooms we passed by on our way here?"

Did I mention my Kitten possessed a sharp mind?

I rolled over, pinning Ember beneath me. My hands pinioned hers to the ground. Her ankles wrapped around my waist, her ankles locking behind the small of my back. "Anything I can do to take your mind off of those other rooms?" I asked her.

"Perhaps you can divert my attention temporarily, Andrew Grissolm, but there is always tomorrow."

"I pray that there will always be a tomorrow with you, Eimi Yoshikawa." I used her full name and spoke in Japanese, something I rarely did. She intuitively felt the seriousness of the moment.

"As long as you desire me, I will be here." She kissed the tip of my nose, making me laugh out loud like a child at Christmas time. No fair scamming my moves! I lowered my head and kissed her passionately, letting her carry me away to another place.

Bare snatch on my chest, eh? Her limits were crumbling. Slowly, to be certain, but deteriorating all the same. She also hadn't displayed disgust at Alicia's photos, only a disparaging condescension at the woman's apparent lack of finesse. I'd be keen to see what Ember's limits truly were. But for now, I'd content myself just to be with her. I drifted off to sleep while being subjected to more of Ember's tender kisses. Every man should be so lucky.

---

Well, here is the fourth installment of the "Ember and Ashe" storyline. Am I getting better at writing erotica? Let me know! Drop me a line, and vote accordingly. Think I should throw away my keyboard and stop littering Literotica with my drivel? Well, let me know that, too! Only through constructive criticism will my writing ever improve. Please, don't forget to vote! And a sincere thank you to all of those who have written to me in the past. I have taken your comments to heart, and have applied your most of your suggestions. I hope that my latest writing effort reflects that.

Until next time,

-T



Ember & Ashe Ch. 5



"Reggie, I'd like to introduce you to Eimi. Eimi Yoshikawa, Mrs. Regina Fredericks, a good friend of mine." Reggie, who'd been turning away to greet some other guests who were filtering in behind us, whipped her head around in surprise. Her silvery-blue eyeshadowed eyes grew large with shock. Then her emerald eyes glittered beneath coquettishly lowered eyelashes.

"Eimi Yoshikawa. What a beautiful name. So good to meet you," she said as she extended a faintly wrinkled hand to Ember. Ember bowed formally in the Japanese way, but didn't touch Reggie's hand at all. She left it dangling stupidly in the air. Reggie quickly withdrew it. Ember remained silent, but I could sense the smile she wore in her heart.

"Please, enjoy my home. Andrew. Eimi." With an amazed look that emphasized the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth, Reggie fled into her house, leaving her arriving guests to fend for themselves.

"That was rude," I said.

"She was rude," Ember replied haughtily. "Who is she to turn her back on me?"

"I never bothered to introduce my dates to her before. I think I surprised her."

That revelation pleased Ember immensely. A beatific smile split her face in two as she took my arm and placed it around her, positioning it on her slender waist. She snuggled into me as she said "Shall we enter, then?"  "Evil bitch," I joked as we entered the house. Time to party!

'''

Ember sat next to me as she sipped on a flute stemmed glass of champagne. I drank grape juice from a wine glass. Had to keep up appearances, after all. I didn't drink or smoke. After all the problems I'd gone through to heal myself, dousing myself with toxins remained low on my list of things I'd ever do again. Not that I judged others, you understand. Just that I couldn't bring myself to drink or smoke anymore.

Ember looked over the colour coded patrons who circulated around the house. Often, someone would come over and strike up polite conversation, surreptitiously glance at our ribbons, then drift off again.

"This place feels like a brothel," Ember finally said. "I felt this way working the clubs downtown."

"That's because they're checking you out, just like the men did at the clubs. They like what they see, but they can't afford the price." I lifted Ember's dainty wrist and stroked her red ribbon. "Red means no."

"I see," she replied. "Why aren't more people wearing green, then? Most are yellow."

"Green means that they will not refuse an offer. Yellow means that they're free to negotiate." 

"Why are we here, Andrew?"

I'd become Andrew again! I'd better make this good. Time to begin Operation Ember. I nuzzled Ember's neck, nipping at it with small, sharp bites. "Just as I told you, to see how other people live. Take off your panties and Bandeau top. Let the people have a good look at you."

Ember spun to face me. "Are you serious?"

"Oh yes. Take off those clothes, Ember."

"I don't want to," she replied hotly.

"There are two thousand reasons why you're going to. I can think of more on a weekly basis."

Ember stiffened. She turned her head away from me, her eyes dropping to the hands she clasped in her lap. You see, although I consider her my girlfriend, the truth is that I paid her two large a week for the privilege of doing so. I'd never thrown this in her face before. The fact that I mentioned it reinforced in her mind the seriousness of this issue. "Turn around," I said to her gently. Ember did so. I undid the fine black buttons that dotted her spine and ran up her neck, and brushed the gossamer-thin cloth off of her creamy shoulders. Around us curious vultures circled, ready to descend upon her. 

"Raise your arms, Kitten." She raised her arms straight upwards, but otherwise remained mannequin-still. I pulled the tube-top off of her, revealing her perky breasts. The burnished copper areolas gleamed in the parlour lights. The nipples were already thick and long, pointing upwards.

"Ah. I see you're not overly embarrassed," I said as I tweaked her nipples.

"Andrew, not here! You shame me."

"Don't feel embarrassed. Not around these people." I pulled up the smoky gauze cloth and pushed her arms through the armholes. I did up the rear buttons. "Stand up, Ember."

"Please, will you not stop this?" Her begging truly sounded pitiful. As much as her unhappy tones and hurt expressions moved me, I steeled myself and forged on. 

"Turn to face me, Ember. Yes, just like that." I stared up into her black eyes as I placed my hands on her hip bones, right at the sides of her thong briefs. I slowly rolled them down the sides of her hips, then down her long legs. She steadied herself on my shoulders as I lifted one leg up, then the other. I tucked the thong briefs into my jacket pocket.

"Stand up straight. I want to see how good you look."

Sometimes I just couldn't believe that such a hottie lived under my roof. Her transparent dress hid nothing from sight; her high breasts, her shaved pussy – everything! In many ways, seeing her displayed through the gossamer mist excited me more than if she had stripped completely. Any part of her flesh that touched the fabric shone a creamy white, while skin not in contact with it remained veiled in shadow. I turned her around slowly. The cloth had the same effect on the marvellous curves of her ass. I rubbed her cheeks appreciatively.

"You're beautiful, Ember. You should feel proud."

"I feel humiliated."

"There's no reason to feel like that." I came around to her front and kissed her. She didn't respond. Her body trembled against mine, whether in passion or in anger, I couldn't say. "We're going downstairs."

"What is down there?"

"The party, what else? You didn't think that this was it, did you? Now that you're properly dressed," I smiled as I tweaked one of her earlobes, "we can proceed to the party proper in the basement." The basement consisted of six large rooms that extended under the main house, the ideal place for the games that Reggie and myself enjoyed playing.

Ember tried to take it in all at once, her eyes darting to the walls encrusted with a multitude of implements of torture and play. A gleaming steel latticework covered the ceiling. Each intersecting point had a large O-ring embedded into it.

"Calm yourself, Ember. You'll get to see everything in due time. We have all evening." I slithered a tongue into her ear. She shuddered.

"How do you feel?" I asked her.

"Scared."

"Scared, and?" I pressed

"Just scared."

I knelt on the ground in front of her and stared at her sex. It bloomed before me, the usually recessed inner labia protruding from its clamshell. The lips gleamed with her wetness. The divine fragrance stirred me. I collected some of the dew and brought it up the her eyes.

"Scared, and?"

"Aroused."

I licked my finger clean. "You certainly are," I agreed.

We entered the dimly lit Chamber of Sighs, a room decked out with plush silk pillows, Oriental rugs and a few divans. Soft Arabic music played in the background, giving the room an Oriental flavour. Five couples were here already, in various states of undress and copulation. One pair immediately caught my eye. I approached them, pulling an unusually reluctant Ember behind me. 

A young black woman of about twenty lay upon the ground. Funny how a short, thin woman like Vanessa could have knockers that large! Simple gold studs adorned her ears. I loved her short Afro. Not many black women liked to go with a natural cut. It showed character. As a matter of fact, it had been her hairstyle that had drawn me to her last year. We'd never dated, just fucked like ferrets when the opportunity arose.

I loved coming over to Reggie's!

The naked bear of a man with a red ribbon on his wrist quickly fastened her wrists and ankles to an X-frame. The black anodized steel cross had stainless steel and leather cuffs welded onto it. She whimpered as he clicked shut her restraints.

She wore a dark blue business suit comprised of a jacket and skirt. Her white silk cotton blouse looked marvellous on her, a stark contrast to her skin. Vanessa was a brown so dark her skin practically shone. Only her bright red patent leather pumps and her ivy patterned, black silk stockings ruined her illusion of being an office worker. Those fetish heels would find no welcome place in any office I'd ever been in. Her hands flexed in the restraints, showing flashes of blood red fingernails.

"What is he doing to her?" Ember asked.

"That's a motorized X-frame," I replied. "It can be raised or lowered by remote, and can rotate on its plane. The individual members are also independent of each other. They can move on their own, and into any required position."

"How do you know all this?"

I laughed. "Who do you think installed this one here?" I replied with a wink. I moved behind Ember and massaged her breasts through the gossamer sheath. "Hush now. Let's see what this guy has planned for Vanessa."

"Vanessa?"

Shit! Too much info delivered too soon. I resolved to watch myself for the rest of the evening. These be rough waters I be sailing in, with treacherous shoals all around me. Miscalculate, and I'd end up stranded on Celibacy Sandbar for who knew how long! I kissed Ember's neck." Quiet now. Observe." 

The short, stocky fellow stepped back and grabbed a remote control. A thick steel rod about three inches in diameter crept out of the floor, bearing the entire X-frame and its payload with it. It stopped its ascent at about three feet off of the ground, giving Vanessa a cock's eye view of the room. The man strolled over to her.

"Why don't you speak to me at work, Mrs. Turner?" he said.

"I'm always so busy," she replied, her voice tremulous. "I barely have time to finish my job much less socialize."

"Lying slut!" The open handed slap he laid across the side of Vanessa's cheek made a loud crack. Vanessa cried out. 

"Ashe!" Ember yelled.

"Don't worry about it, Kitten. Vanessa's last name is Evans, not Turner, and she's a stewardess with Air Canada. This is fantasy play. Relax." I kept mauling Ember's breasts as I took in the scene.

The man moved over Vanessa's body, caressing it through her clothes. He stroked the five inch heels of her pumps, then nuzzled them with his face. He forced his tongue into her toe cleavage, slathering her foot with spittle. Indecipherable murmurs flowed from his lips as he moved them up the inside of her thighs.

He finally stood between her open legs. "You have time for Mr. Eddings, though, don't you, cunt?" He leaned over Vanessa, reaching over to grab the lapels of her smart looking business suit. He tore them open. Vanessa's silk enshrouded breasts heaved. Her legs flexed, as if she tried to clamp them shut. Good luck! She couldn't move the members of the frame. "Everybody knows you're the office whore. Why him, and not me?"

The fellow stroked Vanessa's breasts through her white silk blouse, forcing louder sighs from her. "No, Robert, not like this," she said. "We'll talk Monday. I know, we can take a break together in the conference room. It'll be nice."

"Why wait 'till Monday, slut," he challenged. He tore open her blouse, exposing her generous breasts, concealed only by a bright red brassiere. He undid the center front clip, freeing her tits from their lacy confines. Her heavy breasts slid to the sides of her rib cage. Her dark, glassy areolas covered most of her tits like puddles of motor oil on hot pavement. God, how I loved her hard, erect nipples! A man could use them for toothpicks.

"Robert, no!" she pleaded.

Robert picked up the remote and hit a button. With a gentle whir, the X-frame lowered the neck support to approximately thirty degrees negative incline. Vanessa's head now leaned back invitingly. A couple more clicks and the leg supports forced her legs to stretch even further apart than they had been, and to angle slightly upwards. Vanessa struggled against her moving restraints. Her skirt, a rather tight affair, rolled up her long legs as they parted. Red lacy panties peeked out from underneath the dark cloth.

Robert stood back and pulled on some leather gloves. He opened up a cooler chest. "I got just the thing for frigid cunts like you, slut." He pulled out an ice dildo, about eight inches long and two inches thick. "I bet you thought you had a frigid gash before. Think again." Robert pulled aside her panties and jammed the dildo inside her in one thrust, right to its clear balls. Vanessa wailed like a lost soul denied its last chance at redemption. She rattled futilely against her restraints. Her entire torso bucked up and down on the X-frame as if it seared her flesh.

"Robert! Get that god-damned thing out of me!" she yelled. She started to cry. Tears leaked out of her eyes.

"Fuck, you're a loud one," Robert said. "I guess I should've gagged you first. Not too late to correct my mistake."

Robert slipped around the X-frame and positioned himself in front of her face. His cock jutted out angrily from a thatch of brown wiry hair. "Bite me, and I'll rip your nipples off," he said as he shoved his cock into her mouth.

Vanessa gurgled as he forced his cock into her. He grabbed onto her two pendulous breasts and hung on for dear life as he rammed in and out of her mouth mercilessly. His heavy balls slapped against her nose as he filled her face with cock.

"How's that, bitch? Enjoying yourself?" he said as he jackhammered into her. Vanessa's ass continued to gyrate as he skull fucked her. Her hands clawed empty air, secured as they were to the X-frame.

"Oh God, yeah!" Robert snarled as he took Vanessa's mouth. "Take it, you fucking office piece of trash!" Robert fell forward so he could grab the dildo. He slammed it inside of her in counterpoint to his own strokes. Vanessa went wild, her crazy, ineffectual bucking making the stainless steel and leather restraints creak with strain. "Oh God, I'm going to blow!" Robert shouted. He released the ice dildo and leaned back so he could grab Vanessa by the ears. Her throat worked steadily, milking Robert of all of his cock cream. After about three minutes of diligent cock sucking from Vanessa, Robert pulled out with a satisfied pop.

"Vanessa, that was great," he huffed. "You want out?"

Vanessa struggled to regain her breath. Some of Robert's cum dribbled out of her mouth and crept up the side of her face and into her hairline. "No, let me stay here for a little while. But don't forget to snag some pictures. I need to see how used I look."

"Shit, sorry!" Robert scrambled to his pile of gear and pulled out a Sony Mavica digital camera. He got busy, snapping photos of Vanessa in bondage, her ice-filled snatch, and especially close-ups of her slightly bruised lips that leaked opalized rivulets of glistening cum.

"So what do you think?" I asked Ember. She had reacted well to the little show. I could smell her from where I stood. Like a mare in estrus, she was! That suited me just fine. This stallion had been in rut for months now. I craved to sample a piece of Eimi-pie. Tonight, if things panned out for me.

"How can she stand to have that thing in her?" Ember asked, amazed. "It must burn."

"Indeed it would. Ice tends to numb flesh if used extensively, and would quickly deaden all sensation for her. There's no sense in that." I strode over to Vanessa's exposed snatch and pulled out the dildo. Vanessa gasped aloud. "Sorry babe," I said. "I'll put it back real soon."

"Andy? Is that you? How's it hanging, baby?"

"As thick as always." I brought the dildo over to Ember. "See? It's clear silicone with a stoppered hollow core. You fill this end with water, and cap it with the threaded Lucite plug. Pop it in the freezer overnight, and you got yourself a glacial phallus in the morning."

"If you're going to freeze it anyway, why not use real ice?"

"Real ice can snap off, Ember, or chip when used hard inside a woman. An ice shard can be as sharp as a razor blade. Rough play is one thing, but deliberate torture is something else. You have to take care of the people who've given you their trust," I told her gently.

Without missing a beat, I positioned the dildo at Vanessa's anal opening.

"Andy? You're not going to do what I think you are!"

"And if I do?"

Andy, you sick fucker, I'm not stretched or prepped for that right now! What about all that talk about trust? "

"You never trusted me anyway," I said as I slid the dildo into her pussy. "Just screwing with your head, Nessie. I wouldn't dream of damaging the merchandise."

"Be glad I'm strapped down, asshole." Vanessa's overwhelming relief was audible, despite her fierce words.

"Are you kidding me? I counted on it." I kissed Vanessa's belly, taking the time to tongue her navel then slap the side of her hip. "Later days."

"Later, baby. You sticking around for awhile?"

"Perhaps." I took Ember by the hand and led her into an adjoining room.

"What is next, Andy?" She emphasized the name. I didn't rise to the bait. 

"Wait and see. You can never tell, in this place."

'''

Reggie called the next room the Chamber of Tantalization. Reggie always came up with stupid sounding names for her playrooms. Hey, her house, her rules. Then again, why should I bitch? I lived a place named Hyacinth House. Perhaps one day I'll tell you why. 

Then again, perhaps not.

This room looked like a medieval dungeon. The decor was early Spanish, circa the 16th century, if you wanted to be precise. Thick tallow candles provided the faint illumination. The place reeked of suet and sweat.

"The place smells like the stairwell of a parking garage. Just excrement and urine," Ember griped. 

"Don't fool yourself. Reggie has an air vapourizer system installed in here that sprays that scent. She could have it squirt 'Summer Breeze' if she wanted to, but she felt that stale sweat suited the dungeon decor better."

Many bizarre instruments of torture lined the walls. Most of them were ancient and lethal, devised to maim and to break, not to provide pleasure. Ember stared at the sinister devices, worry creasing her brow.

"Those are just showpieces. The real toys are over there." I walked over to a set of double doors and swung them open Inside the closet sat a wall unit with three huge drawers. Pulling the bottom one open, I reached in and opened up a side. It telescoped open like the pans of a fishing tackle box.

"The other drawers are like this one, as well. Whips, ticklers, stimulators, vibrators, dildos, anal plugs – you want it, Reggie has it, all shiny and new for the pleasure of her guests." I rooted around for a bit, and found a couple of small diameter ass plugs. approximately an inch in thickness. Training wheels, I called them. I also took out an eight foot long leash and a sparkling set of stainless steel and leather body cuffs.

"Got something for you. Hey Ember, what's wrong?"

"Listen," Ember whispered. 

I did so. I heard a faint moaning from the wooden door behind me. "Open it," I said. Ember's breathing stopped. She looked at me apprehensively.

"Open it, Ember."

She did as I asked, regardless of how she personally felt about it. A tall woman on a platform waited inside. She looked Italian, rail thin and gorgeous. Her single braid looked thicker than my wrist, and at least three feet in length.

The girl stood on a circular platform with a steel ladder bolted to its center. Nylon cord bound her to it. Her head nestled between her knees and was strapped to the ladder, as were her arms, stretched up the sides. Someone had secured her long blonde braid to the ladder rungs as well, pointing straight up. Her feet were about six inches away from the ladder. Her cramped, uncomfortable position must hurt to maintain for any extended period.

"Look at her."

"Looks mighty uncomfortable," I agreed. But you'd be surprised at the kind of things people like to do for pleasure."




Ember & Ashe Ch. 5



"No, Ashe. At her. Her face. Her privates."

I finally saw what had attracted Ember's attention. Honey liked piercing. I mean really liked it! Metallic finery encrusted her opened crotch and breasts.

She sported both a VCH and a triangle pierced clit, not to mention a true clitoral pierce, something that I'd only seen once before in my life. Her outer pussy lips had a staggered six ring pierce, the fine gauge, small diameter rings winking in the flickering candlelight. Absolutely gorgeous.

I slid a finger along her pussy lips, enjoying the feel of the cool metal rings on my sensitive fingertip. She sighed. The captive bead rings were gold, probably 18 carat. Her pierced nipples sported nipples shields with horizontal miniature long swords holding them in place. A thin gold chain draped from the hilt of each sword and clipped to the body of the blades. A Madonna pierced her cheek, the silver ball mimicking the placement of the superstar's famous mole. I smiled. Had it been on the other side, it would've been called a Monroe.

"Any others?" I asked her.

"What?" Her thready voice sounded hoarse.

"Piercings. Any others besides the ones that I can see?"

"Tongue. Venom. Navel. Vertical industrial. I wish I'd put in a fucking horizontal pierce right now!" "I bet!" I said in way of commiseration. Bent double like that, a vertical bar would surely gouge into her belly. I crouched down to her eye level. I loved the helix spiral she wore on her left ear, a five pointer! She had one more ornament, an outer- conch orbital. The silver ring connected the two holes that pierced her ear. It looked phenomenal. I couldn't help but notice the three green ribbons tied to her upper left arm. Not only was she available, she preferred edge play.

"How long have you been tied up like this?"

"What time is it?"

"Just past 8 PM."

"For over an hour."

No shit. I hoped whoever had tied her up had been checking up on her. I carefully inspected her flesh, checking for cold skin, parts that didn't react to my touch, that kind of thing. She assured me that she felt fine.

"You're used to this kind of thing," she challenged.

"Not really."

"Bullshit. You checked me over like an old pro." I slapped her ass cheek hard to silence her. She groaned. My hand slid along the ass I'd just slapped. The ingeniousness of this position surprised me. Not only were all of her muscles stretched and her balance precarious, when she fell forward, she would yank on her own hair. Her feet were unbound so she could inch forward to regain her balance, but that was it.

So much fun from what looked like a sawed-off aluminum extendable ladder and a few lengths of nylon cording. Who said that toys had to cost a lot of money?

I motioned Ember over and showed her the rings in the trussed woman's pussy. She seemed keen to learn more about the subject. I explained that the labial ones were for pure show, but the vertical clitoral hood pierce excelled at placing jewellery square on top of the clitoris, while the triangle pierce would nestle a stud squarely behind the clitoral nerve bundle. The ultimate sensation would come from the true clitoral pierce. Very few women who wanted one could ever get one. The clit had to be sufficiently large, and separated from the clitoral hood for one to even be considered. I tweaked Ember's pussy lips as I spoke.

"Don't do that," she warned me.

I gently pried open Ember's mouth and popped in the two fingers that had been in her sopping pussy, fucking her mouth with them for a few strokes before I withdrew. "It doesn't seem that you mind too much." I countered.

I turned back to the captive woman and massaged her hardware encrusted privates. Her moans told me she liked the treatment.

"Please. Fuck me," she begged.

I looked the question to Ember.

"Is this what you truly want to do?" she asked me. Her neutral voice kept her feelings concealed. Very often I could suss out her true feelings solely by intuition. Not this time, though. I'd have to do this the old-fashioned way. I'd have to talk to her.

"I'd rather have you," I finally said.

"You cannot have me."

"Then she will do."

I left the room and came back moments later with a gorgeous thirty-six strand flail. I loved its eighteen inch long blades and the comfortable, twenty inch braided handle. The virid core lay concealed by the outside jet black strands. Only when in motion would the emerald streaks blossom. I swished the flail around in the air a couple of times to get the feel of it.

I brushed the buttery soft blades of the flail over the woman's spread ass and pussy. "You sure you're a three ribbon kind of girl?"

"Yes. Use me."

The first stroke landed square on her taut backside. The whistle of the flail as it sliced air reminded me of the sound of the wind through the branches of a dead tree. It caressed her ass with an audible snapping noise.

The woman grunted, then fell slightly forward. She scrambled to regain her footing.

"Ashe, stop!" 

"Hey, the lady asked for it," I said as I shook the tangles loose from the buttery soft blades. I sent a stroke whistling toward Ember's tits. She shrieked as the strands slapped her pert breasts, then stopped, confused. Her hands glided over her mounds in disbelief.

"Deer skin, Ember. These blades won't cut flesh. But they make a gorgeous sound, eh?" I shook loose the blades once again. They were being difficult. I had to comb them out with my fingers. "A flail this soft needs to be untangled after every stroke or two, but it's well worth it." I sent a few more strokes over Ember's thighs and rump to emphasize my point.

"It tingles," she said, stroking her legs. 

"But it won't hurt if properly used," I said. "It's not always about pain. It's more about sensation." I gave the bound woman a few more lashes, then stroked the flail end across Ember's cheek. She pushed her nose into the dense mass of leather strips and breathed in deeply.

"I love the smell of new leather," she said. "This scent reminds me of riding inside of a Jaguar coupe on a sunny July afternoon."

"I don't own a Jag," I said.

"I've been with men who have, Andy," she replied.

Ah, payback! Slow in coming, but skilfully delivered. I'd let her score that point. I tossed the whip into the bin provided for used toys. 

Ember's curiosity got the better of her. She stood by the woman's ass, gently stroking each cheek. It had coloured nicely and now glowed a light cherry red.

"It is so warm," Ember said.

"It feels bloody hot," the woman agreed.

I stroked the woman between her legs, jangling her pussy ornaments. She sighed. "These piercings really magnify woman's pleasure," I said. "They place pressure in all the right spots if they're positioned right."

"Enough of the Bondage 101, already. Fuck me!" the bound woman shouted.

"You know, I never could stand a woman who likes topping from the bottom," I said as I swatted her ass with my open palm. She stumbled forwards, groaning in pain. The muscles of her lower back stretched. She quickly regained her footing again. Her breath came in loud gasps. I jammed the anal plug I'd been carrying into her slit to lube it up, then thrust it into her unsuspecting asshole. She grunted, then wiggled her ass around frantically. That plug went in real easy, though. No novice to ass play here!

"You have something for my pussy?"

"Nothing that would do it justice." I kissed her firm ass goodbye, giving her jewellery a final jingle. "I love your pierce work. My compliments to the artist."

We moved off to the next chamber. Before I could even reach for the door Ember pulled me to a stop. "Ashe, no more."

"Why?"

"I want you, Ashe. Now."

I desperately wanted to smile, but carefully kept the smirk off of my lips. I had to play it cool. I couldn't afford to blow it, not when so close to getting what I wanted. "Why do you want me?" I asked. "Why now?"

Ember looked away from me. "When I saw you with the black woman, then later on with the bound one, I realized that you can have many other women. Why have you waited so long for me?" She regarded me with her dark, questioning eyes.

"Because you're the only woman I want. No one else matters to me."

Ember clutched me around the center. I felt her body shaking against mine. "Why are you crying?" I asked her.

"You make me so happy, yet I cause you so much pain."

"Pain? You? Never." I lifted her face, tilting it so I could kiss her tears away.

"Do not lie to me. I know how badly you want me, and I know how frustrated you get when I turn you away. I am surprised you are still with me."

"It would be a shitty investment if I dumped over $48,000 into a woman and didn't get to fuck her at least once. I have to keep you around until I get to sample the goods."

"Be serious," she said as she smacked my arm. 

"What makes you think I'm not being serious? Forty-eight large is serious business."

I hadn't intended to do this, not so soon, but she presented me with the perfect opportunity to really see what her limits were, and how far I could push them. 

"You want to try something different? It'd be a waste to leave this place before trying out some of the facilities."

She endued her sharp gaze with suspicion. "What do you have in mind?"

"You let me worry about the details. I've some ideas about what I want to try with you." I ushered her into my favourite room, The Cerulean Chamber.

'''

The room's sapphire light cast eerie cobalt shadows upon the glass walls. Ember hung from a chrome suspension bar, a three foot long, hollow metal tube with two heavy-duty eye bolts on either end. Bicycle chains dangled from it. They were attached to her wrist cuffs, pinioning her arms over her head. I attached a third chain to her ankle cuff. Her ankle hung at rib level. She hobbled about on her left foot, the only one that could reach the ground.

Ah! I love asymmetrical bondage. It threw the body's natural sense of balance off kilter, and added to its feeling of vulnerability.

Cuffs of durable saddle leather cinched her thighs, ankles, neck and wrists. Each had three D-rings sewn to it. They were both versatile and beautiful, but were only being used for their cosmetic value. Ember bounced around, testing out her restraints.

"Are they on too tight, or are they okay? How do your shoulders feel? They'll pull a bit at first, but they shouldn't hurt.

"I will manage." Her smile told the tale. She trusted me. Trusted me to respect her boundaries. I'd do so.

That isn't to say that I wouldn't push those boundary markers back a bit!

Ember allowed my heated gaze to do whatever it wanted to her vulnerable body. Wherever my sight passed, tremors passed through her golden flesh.

"It's a beautiful dress, but I think it's outlived its usefulness." First I undid her braided leather belt, then I grasped the back of her dress and split it down the center. Buttons scattered around the chamber, loudly clattering on the cold tile floor like pennies tossed into a glass dish. I repeated the act to her front, letting the torn garment hang from her shoulders in two distinct halves. Ember's eyes went wide.

"Ashe?"

"Silence." I slipped a blindfold over her head, totally blocking her vision. "No more speaking. Don't make me have to gag you. I will, if you speak one word out of turn again."

Ember fell silent. Her tongue moistened her suddenly dry lips. I pinched her nipples and stretched them out as far as I could prior to applying a steel clover clamp to each one.

"These special clamps tighten as more weight is connected to them," I informed her. I hooked up a two ounce weight to each, the minimum mass that Reggie had available. Ember gasped and leaned backwards to support some of the weight on her body. I shoved her forwards again, causing the weights to swing outwards. She grunted as her tit-flesh swayed in time to the makeshift pendulums.

"Stay as I place you, Ember." An open-handed smack on her bottom emphasized the seriousness of my command. I replaced her belt, the braided white leather providing a most interesting contrast to the dark leather cuffs she wore.

I massaged her all over, using only my lips and tongue. I started at her feet, nuzzling at the balls on her exposed flesh through her strappy sandals, and worked up to her calves and her thighs. I purposely skipped over her crotch, instead continuing up her back, her torso, and then her breasts. I nibbled all the way up the sides of her neck, then kissed her square on the nose. Ember giggled.

"I love you, Eimi Yoshikawa. This is all for you."

I kissed her, luxuriating in her silken mouth. She hopped about, trying to maintain her balance. My fault, since I often jiggled her chains around, causing her balance to shift. I worried at her clamped nipples, enjoying the way her sharp moans burst into my mouth. I worked my way over to her backside and spread her asscheeks apart. I spit square in the center of her crinkled brown eye, then massaged the spittle into her. I then took the one remaining Anal Trainer and worked it slowly in and out of her asshole. Ember's gasps became sighs of pleasure.

"When we get home, there are going to be some changes," I informed her. "No more pants or concealing clothes. Only skirts, dresses, or easily removable clothing. You're to be open and accessible to me at all times. Do you understand?" I tugged down sharply on her left nipple weight. Ember's body seized up as if electric current flowed through her. "Ember?" I said.

Ember whimpered, and nodded.

"No tights, and no pantyhose. Stockings only. If you must wear panties, they're to be crotchless. It is always better to wear none at all. Do you understand?" I rotated the slim dildo inside of her stuffed asshole. Ember vigorously shook her ass, trying to quell that discomforting sensations that the spinning toy produced in her clenching anus. She wasn't used to anything being there for prolonged periods of time. That would change soon. "Answer me, Kitten," I said.

A nod.

"High heels only, or barefoot. No more flats unless we are doing work in the garden. Of course, that doesn't extend to your bath slippers." She was Japanese after all, and very traditional in some surprising ways. She always insisted that I wear no shoes in the house, and always wear slippers in the bathroom. Getting her to wear heels, even inside the bedroom, always exhausted me but was worth any amount of effort. "I want you to display those fucking incredible calves and legs of yours for me at all times. Do you understand?"

As before, a whimper, and a nod of acquiescence.

"And finally, one last condition. Starting from tomorrow morning, you're to wear a butt plug, like this one for the better part of the day. I'll start you off small, but will increase its diameter every two weeks. I intend to work you up to about, oh I don't know," I hefted my cock in my hand, "five inches long, three and a half inches wide. Of course, regular enemas will now be a part of your morning toilet. You'll either do this on your own, or, if you have difficulty doing so, I'll administer them for you. The plan is for me to be fucking your ass by Christmas time, and I'd rather not cause you any excessive pain." I jammed the little butt plug in and out of her a few more times to emphasize my point. Having that hard piece of plastic ramming inside of her was nothing like a finger. The way her ass and legs twitched, I knew she found it uncomfortable. "Imagine something almost four times that thickness thrusting into your ass, Ember. The butt plug training is for your benefit. As I said, I'm fucking asshole by Christmas. And you'd better be ready for it. Do you understand me?"

I tossed the dice. All of the other crap was small potatoes compared to this one point. I knew she'd go along with the no pants, only heels, no panties thing, but ass fucking? Not a chance! She felt so strongly against intercourse of any type. I'd purposely specified ass and not pussy. From day one, she'd let me tongue and fondle her asshole. But touching her pussy bare had earned me a full handed slap I still remembered vividly. Would she give up her ass cherry to me in four month's time? I didn't know. But I certainly hoped so.

Ember hung there for a long time, twitching in her restraints. Her head hung low on her chest, drooping like her nipples did under the weight of the clover clamps. She let out a long, shuddering sigh and nodded her head.

"Say it out loud, Ember. I intend to welcome in the New Year with my cock planted firmly up your ass and you bouncing on top of me for all you're worth. Will you allow me to take your ass?"

"Yes," she said. "My anus will be yours to use by Christmas time." She sounded resigned, but not upset.

Let me tell you, her words made my dick spring up so hard and so fast I nearly blacked out from the sudden drop in blood pressure. When my world stopped spinning, I remembered to check on Ember. I massaged the area around her nipples, held them, then unclipped the clover clamps. 

She hissed, her rapidly head flailing from side to side.

"That's only after five minutes. Any longer than that and removing the clamps would really hurt. You'll get used to heavier weight and longer hang times later." I kissed her soundly. I resisted the temptation to fondle her abused nipples. Better just to let them alone until blood flow returned naturally.

"Now, I want to give you back some of the joy that you just gave me. One second."

I pulled a second, then a third suspension bar over via the interlaced latticework on the ceiling, then fastened chains to her knee and waist supports. Ember looked wonderful hanging by her wrists, yet also supported by knee and ankle cuffs as well. She hung in mid air in roughly a sitting position with her legs splayed open.

"This is for you," I said as a spread her pussy lips. Man, about time I got to run something up inside of her.

"Ashe! No, please?" Her voice held an urgent note of pleading in it that I couldn't ignore. Unfortunately, it came too late. I'd already pried open her pussy and tried to peer into her depths. I failed.

Her hymen had obscured my view, concealing her inner sheath from my sight.

"Son of a bitch!" I blinked to clear my eyes. I looked inside her again. She still had a cherry. "A virgin? How when the world?"

"Let me down, Ashe. Please?" Uncharacteristic begging filled her voice. I pulled off her dark green blindfold. Hot tears streamed down her face, now unhindered by the damp cloth I'd just removed.

"A virgin prostitute. Care to explain that to me?"

"I told you once that my touch was my business. I touch them. I don't allow them to touch me. Most of them are happy enough with my mouth and hands."

"For the ones who aren't?"

"I run from them."

"Why hide this from me?" I asked her. "What did you think I'd do?"

"Release me, Andrew Grissolm!" The weak words didn't sound right. Her heart just wasn't in it. 

"Nice try, Ember. But I don't buy it. Talk to me."

"Once I let you have me, I become a whore in fact!" Ember sobbed, a fresh torrent of tears sluicing her face with saline sorrow.

In some strange way, her claim made sense. She equated whoring with vaginal intercourse. Anything else, head, hand jobs – and I guess anal – didn't figure in her world. But once I busted that cherry, that was that. She'd achieve certifiable slut status.

"No, Ember. Having sex doesn't make a woman filthy. Not if she enjoys what she's doing. Sex is perfectly natural."

"You are telling me that this is natural?" She jiggled her chains.

"Got me there," I said. "We'll discuss kink later. In the meantime, I've some pussy pleasing to do. No penetration. I promise. Now just lean back, relax, and enjoy the ride."

I stifled her pending protest with a skilful stroke from my rough tongue taking its first swipe of Ember-pussy. The gasp that rushed out of her sounded raw. She clamped her jaws shut to keep her desire firmly bottled inside of her. Too late for that shit! She already showed me her frail inner self. Why did she feel unworthy of sexual satisfaction? Somewhere along the line she'd decided that she was merely a vessel for giving pleasure and undeserving of ever receiving it. I'd disabuse her of such silly notions once and for all.




Ember & Ashe Ch. 5



I held her two succulent globes of ass-flesh firmly in my hands as I pressed my thick lipped mouth against her privates. My tongue speared against her hymen, running against the firm, elastic membrane. I limited my time on it, just nibbling along its middle ridge. Ember flailed about, tossing her head to and fro as I worked on her pussy.

Excellent.

I renewed my ministrations, doing full licks from asshole to her clit. She couldn't slap my face now, could she? I laughed on the inside as I continued teasing that smooth stretch of skin between asshole and pussy.

I tickled the inner folds of her pussy and nibbled on her inner lips as I washed over her entire box with my tongue. She rewarded me with a fresh dose of her lubrication. 

Her clitoris called to me, begging to be serviced. I pulled back her clitoral hood and sucked in the pink nubbin, relishing how it expanded between my lips. I sucked it like a vacuum did dirt. In response, her pussy went wild. It squeezed on nothing, the peristaltic tremors causing even her thighs to quiver. Ember moaned uncontrollably.

I reached up and tweaked at her aching nipples as I feasted on her box. Her pussy reared upwards, grinding into my face. If I had to guess, I'd say she liked the treatment! I abandoned the work on her breasts and jammed her ass forward into my face, pressing it in hard as I fed upon her.

A piercing cry of pure bliss split the air as her orgasm hit. Soon, her tremors subsided. All was quiet except for the sounds of Ember's gentle sobbing. I quickly undid her restraints, and set her free. Ember stood upon firm ground once more. She stared at me for awhile, long enough for me to start worrying.

She approached me. I didn't tell her to do so. This had to be solely her decision. There could be no coaxing on my part. I didn't reach out to grab her, or force her to me in any way. She fell into me of her own accord. Her petite frame warped to fill in all my odd shaped valleys and crevices, coating me like Tool Dip on a pair of pliers. Ember's body seemed custom made for me.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly.

"More than okay. Thank you, Ashe." She buried her face in my chest.

She was the brazen child who'd suffered greatly at the hands of the world, stoically taking all of its abuse, but who wept at the first gentle word or genuine kindness she'd ever received. She broke into salty tears once again, snuffling against me. I grasped her tightly, content just to embrace her for a little while. 

"It's okay, Kitten. I understand you now. Everything will be okay. Kissing the tears from her eyes, I swept her petite, quivering body into my arms and carried her upstairs. I handled her gently like the fragile doll she was.

'''

Reggie was sorry to see us go. Sorry to see Ember go, anyway. I know my Reggie, she liked women even more than I did. She delighted in fucking young women and even younger men, as if rolling around in a quivering mass of youthful vitality would somehow endue her flesh with it. Regina firmly believed the one could absorb youth by osmosis. It looked like she'd just returned from her latest treatment. Cum dried in her hair, matting it in places. The telltale stains on her bust and ass gave her away, too. 

My woman wore nothing but her white heeled sandals, her white leather belt, and a set of stainless steel and leather cuffs. So noble looking was Ember, the fact that she stood totally nude did nothing to detract from her regal bearing. I'd previously cuffed her hands behind her back, attaching them to her neck collar by a short piece of chrome spreader bar that fastened from neck to wrists. The hardware held her neck and shoulders back firmly, and made her breasts jut out enticingly. "Are you sure you have to leave so soon?" Reggie asked me, eyeing Ember hungrily. Ember pretended she didn't notice the looks Reggie lavished upon her. But she did move towards the exit, pulling the leash taut that I held in hand.

"Very. We have an early morning ahead of us. Goodbye, Reggie. I kissed her on both of her cheeks. At the last moment she sank her talons into my dreadlocks and gave me a deep, decidedly unmatronly kiss. I almost dropped Ember's sunglasses and hat from my surprise, not to mention the leash. She held me there, sucking moisture from me like a desert traveller did from an oasis. I really wish she hadn't done that, though. Never did like tasting another man's cum. Bitch better rinse her mouth the next time she did something like that to me!

"Do come back soon, Ashe. Both of you. But next time, please choose green!"

Ember practically materialized in front of Reggie, shouldering me out of her way with a strength I'd forgotten the little fireball possessed. She stood so close to her, their noses almost touched.

"That is 'Andrew' to you, old cunt," Ember said contemptuously. "Do not rise above yourself!" With that, Ember turned on her heel and strode out of the front door.

Reggie's mouth worked soundlessly. I shrugged in way of apology. "Hey, Ember's the boss, after all," I said as she pulled me out by the length of leash she wore affixed to the collar. 

'''

We were back on the mainland, bombing towards North Vancouver, and home. Ember wore a plain white cotton summer dress I'd retrieved from the trunk and her strappy sandals. Nothing else. She had removed all of the cuffs except for the stainless steel and leather collar. She wanted to get used to the feel of it, she'd told me. Personally, I think she just liked how sharp it looked on her.

"You don't like Reggie, do you?" I asked her.

"If she calls you Ashe ever again, I will beat her," Ember said fiercely.

"She'd really enjoy that."

"Not the way I would do it."

Funny to think that Reggie kissing me didn't faze Ember in the least, but Reggie's use of my pet name without authorization by her incensed my woman to no end. I guess a prostitute, even a former one, had a radically different view of what acts constituted intimacy. Somehow I knew that Ember would've preferred it if Reggie had dropped to her knees and sucked on my cock than to call me Ashe. You already know that I think women are strange creatures. This just reinforced the fact.

"How long until we arrive?" She asked. She fondled my cock bulge absently as she looked around, enjoying her night ride.

"Don't know. Twenty minutes. Thirty perhaps."

"Do you think you can make it home in fifteen?" she said as she pulled out my cock and choked it down in one gulp.

"Maybe," I squeaked as I jammed the gas pedal all the way down. My Ac shot forward into overdrive as I wiggled my prick around in Ember's eagerly working throat. If I didn't miss my guess, life was about to get really sweet.

--- Here is the missing Chapter 5, my feeble attempt to explain how a coy-seeming Ember who has been holding out on Ashe since Chapter 1 suddenly becomes the wildcat of Chapter 6. I also wanted fill in some of Ashe's backstory. People have been asking me "Who is this Ashe/Andrew dude, anyways?" 

Did you like it and want the storyline to continue? Think I should save a tree and stop wasting paper? You know what you have to do ... Please send me some feedback, and don't forget to vote. Chapter 7 is coming soon. Watch for it. 

Until next time, 

-T 



Ember & Ashe Ch. 6



Brutally fucking Eimi Yoshikawa for over six hours straight just wasn't fun anymore. If her cunt felt anything like my cock did, she lived in a world of hurt. My prick felt raw, the skin rubbed off by her greedy, tight twat. Eimi, or Ember as I called her, always felt snug, and not just because my cock had girth to spare. She'd been a virgin when I met her. Surprising enough for a girl in her twenties. More surprising still since she'd been a prostitute working the West Van area at the time. In the year since, her box had molded to fit me perfectly. A made to order snatch, if you will. Her petite frame stood less than one and a half meters with heels off. A rare occurrence, indeed. I made her wear high heels everywhere! I delighted in seeing my beautiful Japanese girlfriend strutting around in 10 centimeter heels, sexy lingerie, or a tight micro skirt or hip-hugging dress. It always made me feel like fucking. Her, too! I must've filled her with cum two or three times a day. Whether in mouth or in cunt, she always insisted that my seed be taken inside her, and not be squandered.

"Sperm outside a woman is a sin, Andrew Grissolm," she'd often admonish me. "Oozing mouths and vaginas are for the movies. They have no place in real life."

As much as I wanted to argue with her, I loved spunking inside of her velvety, sucking mouth and her wonderful, gripping snatch so much, I rarely cracked my teeth when she made such comments. Especially when she dropped the 'Andrew Grissolm' crap on me. I'd rather have her call me Ashe, her pet name for me, than use the dreaded 'A.G.' With Ember, use of my full name meant trouble. Why should I complain, anyway? She wanted me to come inside her? Hell, I'd never have trouble fulfilling that wish! Pop-shots made for great video, but lousy sex.

Today I had stopped by on second floor unannounced to see her. She'd been dressing to go out with a couple of friends. She wore a tight white bandeau top. It beautifully accented her breasts and long nipples. The leopard skin print wraparound skirt hugged her petite waist just the way I liked. It came halfway to her knees. A trifle long, but I figured that this once, I'd let it slide. I walked up behind her, lifted her waist long black hair out of the way, and nibbled at the nape of her neck, just at the hairline. Jacked up on her 10 centimeter cigarette heels, she came to the perfect height for my 6 foot 4 self. I intended to grab a quick one before she left for the day. She seemed to know what I was thinking, and didn't approve.

"I'm running late, Ashe. Have no time for sex right now."

To say I felt miffed was to call Everest a foothill. However, I knew how to delay gratification. Sex would be so much sweeter when she returned. I'd wait. "No problem, kitten. Hurry back, though. We have some business to take care of." I smiled. Business indeed. I placed a meaty hand on her firm, round tush and rubbed it appreciatively. I always loved feeling up her fleshy ass. My hand suddenly stopped moving. It had brushed against something that had shocked me.

A panty line.

Ember guiltily squirmed away from my touch. "I can explain," she said.

"Can you?" I motioned for her to straighten up. I cupped her high, round tits with my hands, stroking them with gentle, swirling motions of my thumbs. The swelling nubs of her nipples were obscured not by the thin crepe of her elasticized tube top, but by something else. I ripped the garment open, my powerful hands making short shrift of the flimsy material. The cloth split like tissue. The shredding noise made Ember go rigid. A light beige, offending garment sprung into view. A seamless, strapless push-up bra? An ugly thing. I didn't know she owned any. The plain bra neither had lace nor peek-a-boo, nipple revealing holes. Just two cups of Wonderbra-boring, tan material. Unforgivable.

"Ashe?" Her soft pitched, lilting voice trembled.

I stood immobile. My brain had been unhinged by the dual assault on my sensibilities. Panties. And a bra. How long had she been wearing such things behind my back? I had been lax, apparently. One day would she challenge my other preferences? Would low heeled, sensible shoes be in my future? Full-length skirts? Heaven forbid, perhaps she'd take to wearing pants!

I'd be damned if I let things turn out that way.

"Call your friends back. Tell them you won't be meeting them. Be at the Lotus House in 15 minutes. Come as you are.

The Lotus House - her name, not mine - was one of the smaller homes on my property. I preferred to stay in the main house, an Edwardian style mansion. I lived on the third floor, while Ember preferred to dwell on the second. But every so often, I'd spend time in one of the smaller residences. The houses hadn't sported names until Ember had come to live with me. She'd given them Japanese-styled names based on flowers. She believed a house without a name could never become a home, and she very much wanted a home. I'd given her leave to name the buildings to her heart's content. Keeping Ember happy always paid dividends. A happy Ember made for a horny Ember. A horny Ember kept Ashe happy.

Happy is good. I like happy. Being disobeyed made me decidedly unhappy.

So here I am, pounding into her tight twat with a ruthless force I had never before used with her. I usually feared hurting her. I liked to use gentle, yet powerful strokes when screwing her. Not today. I intended to deliver a punishment fuck like she'd never experienced. I wanted to discipline her, plain and simple. I had to demonstrate to her that her body remained my plaything, mine to do with as I wished. To take as I wished.

Today, I took it hard.

I sat in the deep, winged back chair in the sunken living room. Ember sat on top of my lap, facing away from me. My hands gripped her waist as I jammed a fistlike mass of black cock up her ravaged cunt. She clutched the arms of the chair as I reamed her hole. She made intermittent, short moans, almost barks, as I pummeled her hairless, dark lipped juice box. I glanced at the mirrored wall of the room. Ember's face screwed up in pain. She gritted her teeth as she rode my meatstick. The inner lips of her cunt flared bright red. Her outer lips had the same dusky color as usual, but they shone a slick, bright scarlet inside. I increased the speed of my screwing. She squealed. Her tits, round handfuls of creamy goodness tipped by long, copper coloured nipples bounced and jiggled delightfully, rotating in opposite-facing circles. I loved it when they did that.

"What are you never to wear?" I asked her for the hundredth time today.

"No bras that conceal my nipples," she said through her huffing. "No pants, leotards, or pantyhose. No panties that conceal my genitals."

"What was that last part?"

"No panties."

"Why is that?" I pressed.

"My body is to remain accessible." 

"Why?" I gave her three, ultra hard shots to the cunt with my mahogany belly-probe. She gasped aloud. The wall mirrors showed her eyes rolling back into her head. I grabbed a handful of silky raven hair and pulled back on it sharply. Her neck snapped back towards me. My other hand stroked her neck gently. "Keep fucking me while we talk," I commanded. Ember resumed her humping. She used her arms to lift her ass up, and then bear herself down upon my cock. She sucked air in between her teeth with each stroke. Man, my cock was sore beyond belief! She had to be feeling worse than I did. 

At least, I hoped so.

"Why are you to remain accessible?"

"For your pleasure." Ember increased the tempo of her fucking. Who was punishing whom, here? The chick was killing me!

"I am to remain open and available at all times so you can take me whenever you wish. My body is yours, Ashe."

Damn right it was. I released her hair and throat and fondled her tits instead. I teased the long, distended nipples with thumbs and forefingers, then twisted them cruelly. Ember rose off of my cock with the sudden, lancing pain. She squealed in surprise.

"I'm going to enjoy taking this body again. You understand me?" I tossed her off my lap. She looked up at me with anger and arousal. She might be Japanese, but Ember displayed none of the inbred docility usually attributed to Asian women. She had a Japanese woman's body and face, but a Western woman's mind. She'd decide what kind of crap she'd tolerate, and what kind she'd balk against. The only way to overcome her would be to move quickly. I rose from the chair, picked her up, then tossed her down onto it. Her tits stood straight up, nipples clawing their way heavenward. Her well-used cunt blossomed, a moist Camellia Japonica of my very own, looking delicate, glistening, and welcoming. God, how beautiful Ember became when being soundly fucked. 

I covered her diminutive frame with my muscular, dark-skinned body, and slid back into her goo-tube. My cock sloshed around inside her. After so many hours of fucking, even a tight piece like Ember started to feel a tad slack. That didn't bother me. I could stay buried in her cunt forever. Her muscles convulsed around me, milking my cock. I luxuriated in the feel of her. 

Her slim ankles rested on my shoulders. As I burrowed into her, her legs pumped up and down, keeping time. Her strappy black high heels swayed like tree branches in high wind. She fucked the air with her clear Lucite, golden tipped heels every time I thrust into her. I laughed. As long as everyone was getting some, who was I to complain?

Ember grabbed the back of the chair with both hands. Her arms extended over her head. Her elbows moved together, partially shielding her face from my view.

"Move your elbows apart, kitten. Let me see those gorgeous oriental features of yours as I use your cunt." Ember's elbows spread apart. Her almond shaped eyes flicked open, allowing our gazes to lock together. Her eyes mirrored the lust I knew existed in my own. I spread her legs wider and held them tightly to the corners of the chair, right where the back attached to the arms. Pinioned this way, she looked so deliciously vulnerable, my cock twitched.

"Grab my hands,” I ordered. "Don't let go." She complied immediately. I varied my stroke, swirling my ass in a clockwise, circular pattern. Ember growled, the sounds emanating from deep within her chest. Such big, fierce noises from such a small woman! Her tits jiggled as I pounded into her. Sadly, they lay just out of reach of my questing mouth. Her brassy areolas teased me, glistening as if already burnished by my tongue, spit-shined to a high luster. My thrusting hips echoed my frustration. My strokes became seriously rough.

Hey, I know. It surprised me, too.

Ember responded favorably. Her cunt became even slicker. Fresh gash-gravy bubbled around my cock and balls. Its molten temperature burned my ebony skin. The sounds from her and the sight of her as she flailed beneath me made me incredibly excited. She could take everything I threw at her, and then some. I enjoyed screwing my sweet-tasting Japanese girlfriend so much it hurt.

"I love making love to you too, Ashe. No other man will ever have me. I swear it."

It no longer surprised me when she did shit like that, seemingly reading my mind. I'd grown used to it, though I still didn't particularly like it. This weird connection had existed from the very start, though I never understood why we shared one.

I pulled out of her box and firmly grabbed her head. I pulled her forward, forcing her body to reposition to better accommodate me. She sucked my fat, turgid cock into her mouth. I slipped down her throat without difficulty. Her mischievous brown eyes smiled at me, seeing how I had her mouth stuffed full of ebony cockmeat at the time. I pumped her face, fucking it as fiercely as I earlier had her cunt. Her spread legs scissored around the back of the chair while her hands rested on the lip of the seat. The position let her tits hang down in two inverted pyramids, the distended nipples seemingly weighing down the breasts. They swayed back and forth as I slammed into her face. Rivulets of drool streamed down her chin. They clung to her in thick gooey cables that swayed with my thrusts. She moaned around my cock as I skull fucked her. As I worked her mouth, her tongue and throat moved in a concerted effort to get me off quickly. I pulled out of her face.

I still held her head between my large hands. I brought my face close to hers, and kissed the very tip of her petite, rounded nose. She giggled at me.

"You, my dear, are trying to make me come," I accused.

"Of course. I live to accept your seed."

Fuck. My little son pulsed with desire for her, despite its sad condition. It would take more than a little epidermal distress to keep me out of that exquisite sheath of hers, let me tell you! She prided herself on never swearing, but she sure knew how to sound like the sluttiest bitch at times. I loved being with her.

"Request denied, my golden-hued cock muncher. Turn around on the chair and grip the chair back." I smacked her ass lightly. "Move your knees to the edge of the chair seat. Yeah, just like that." I shoved three fingers lengthwise into her slit, and worked them in as far as I could. As I diddled her, I continued to talk.

"Why did you disobey me?" 

"I was going to the pool with my friends. I did not want them thinking me a slattern."

"But you are a whore, Ember. You're my whore. Never forget that." My other hand snaked between her legs and sought out her clitoris. I pulled it clear of its shroud and rolled it between my thumb and forefinger. "Your ass is mine. Your cunt is mine. Your mouth. Your tits. Any part of you I desire, I'll take. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"I am yours to do with as you please."

Damn right. "Right now, I desire to fuck you until you bleed." Not much chance of that happening. My cock would disintegrate long before. I picked her up by the waist and carried her over to the couch. I threw her down upon it. She scuttled to the far side, as if trying to escape me. I lunged for her, catching her by the base of her neck. I held her neck down firmly on an arm of the couch. She had one knee on the couch, and the other just off of it. One of her high heels planted itself into the white pile carpeting.

I plowed into her as hard as I could. She screamed. I kept her head pinned down as I rode her cunt. She wasn't a woman to me right now, just a hole provided for my use. I'm sure she felt the difference in my fucking style. Lust ruled me right now, not love, not caring. As I slammed into her, her entire body jostled. I knew her slight frame could take the abuse. She'd let me know if I pressed her too far.

I forced myself to regulate the pace of our screwing. She would wear me out at this pace. Her ass smacked against my pelvis, making rich, sloppy, sucking sounds. 

Smack! I struck the right side of her ass with my open palm. "Work that ass against me. Hard." She forced her ass back against me.

Three more sharp cracks echoed through the living room. Her ass cheek glowed red in response. "Faster," I yelled. "I want to see that ass blur." I lightly brushed my palm across her abused ass cheek. She flinched as if stung. Her blushing ass radiated heat. I continued to stroke it with feather soft caresses. Her sighs told me she liked the treatment.

Her ass and belly undulated. Her juices frothed white around my pole, coating my black rod with her clinging, white cream. I was in heaven. Ember never failed to delight me, not once. I jammed into her as hard as I could, trying to reach her womb. I spit on her asshole and snaked a finger into her puckered anus. Her ass bucked against it, sending even more interesting sensations through my fuckmeat. I jammed my finger forward into her anus every time I pulled out of her cunt, creating an interesting syncopation.

"Do you know why I ask for these things? The open panties, the bare nipples?"

"So. You. Can use. Me as you. Wish," she replied between gasps.

Very true. "No, not just that. Why?"

"You enjoy seeing. Me in cheap. Looking clothes and shoes."

Well, that was also true. But she never wore 'cheap' anything. The money that girl spent on clothing and shoes last year could feed a family of five for two years, easy. "No, Ember. Why do I make you dress as I do? Why do I like looking at you so much? Why must I fuck you three or more times each day?"

She stopped pushing against me and peered over her shoulder. Her long, glistening hair half-covered her sweaty face. Her open mouth greedily sucked air, taking advantage of the brief respite.

"Because you are an oversexed black man who is happiest when having sex with his Japanese woman."

Bingo! "It's because I love you, Miss Yoshikawa. I do these things because I love you, and constantly crave your body."

The words had the intended effect upon her. I have no gift with mushy words or romantic turns of phrase. The few sweet things I did say to her she hoarded, cherishing them like precious jewels. Rarity truly does make things more valuable, it seemed. I really did love her, and showed her the depths of my affection in many different ways. But she always seemed to crave the words. I rarely spoke them. Today, I had relented.

Now, don't go thinking me soft. I had good reason.

"I've given you something, Ember. Something precious. What will you give me in return?"

Ember continued to stare at me from over her shoulder. She brushed a few damp strands of matted black hair away from her face. Her dark brown eyes, almost black, regarded me coolly. A pink bit of tongue flicked across her pert lips, puffy with arousal. Ember exuded the aura particular to all freshly fucked women, a heady mixture of confidence, bravado and recklessness. Was there anything in life more beautiful?

Ember pulled herself off of me and slipped over the arm of the chair. She gracefully regained her feet and strutted over to the center table. She swept its contents onto the floor. Pieces of fruit and their worked copper bowl tumbled onto the white pile carpeting. She gingerly laid herself across the table, face down. Her ass faced me, its golden, unblemished smoothness oh-so-tempting. She spread her ass cheeks in invitation. Her asshole, a hazelnut of knotted muscle, clenched spasmodically.

"Please take my ass," she said. "I want to feel you deep inside of me."

I'd bet my ass that she really didn't want me in hers. As much as I loved railing a woman up the poop chute, I knew that she hated it. That incredibly small woman had a really tight ass. I had tried to stretch her asshole with a steady regimen of butt plugs that I gradually increased in diameter, but even so, she was still tiny back there. I usually limited my anal play with her to tongue rimming, finger play, and the occasional toy. The few times I had taken her anally, I had caused her considerable distress. The last time she had allowed me back there, I had ripped her up pretty badly. It had taken her over a month to heal. A torturously long month, I'm certain. I still felt incredibly guilty about the incident. Since then, I hadn't gone anywhere near her asshole with my cock. She hadn't offered it up to me, either.

Not until this very moment.

"Are you sure?" I asked her as I quickly approached. No way was I going to give her time to change her mind.

I stroked the firm globes of her spread ass. As much as I didn't want to hurt her, I really wanted to burrow into there. I dribbled spit into her single brown eye. The saliva trickled down the crack of her ass. I spit some more, and worked it into her. "This will hurt."

"I know," she replied, "but one must face the pain if she is ever to experience the pleasure that dwells on the other side."

"I see," I said, though I really didn't. "In that case, I'll leave the pace of the play to you." I leaned over her and placed my cock at her back door. My meat had approximately the same dimensions as a beer can, wide, yet relatively squat. Seeing such a thick piece to mahogany muscle trying to enter such a minuscule bud almost made me call off the whole thing. Almost. Instead, I braced myself against the table for support, and patiently waited.




Ember & Ashe Ch. 6



I didn't have to wait for long. Ember pushed back against me with firm pressure. Her sphincter distended around my cock. The tip of it made its way into her, but nothing else. Ember moaned loudly.

Spit just wasn't going to do it. I lumbered over to the bathroom and snagged myself a bottle of my favorite lubricant and returned. Ember hadn't moved. She still leaned over the table with ass cheeks spread. If I weren’t so horny, I would've taken pity on the poor girl. I treated her ass crack with a generous application of Frixion. The lubricant fully coated the entire area. I worked a couple of fingers into her, spreading the Frixion inside of her rectum. I added a third finger and stretched her out as much as I could. Her sphincter gave some, but not nearly enough. Not by half.

I kept stretching her for a good ten minutes or so, until I was satisfied that her asshole wouldn't become any looser for me. Only then did I reposition myself at her back door.

"Anytime you're ready, Ember."

She gently applied pressure. Slowly, the shaft of my prick eased into her rectal tube. I felt her tight brown ring distend over my lemon shaped cockhead and slide over it. I squirted a little more Frixion around my exposed pole and onto her asshole, just to be safe. No such thing as too much lube when going spelunking. All too soon, I reached maximum depth. Her handless grip held me tightly in place. It felt uncomfortably tight, truth be told. I imagine it felt worse for her. Ember whimpered softly beneath me. She still hadn't moved much at all.

"Here's where I'll stay for a while. Push back against me when you feel comfortable."

Comfortable. I winced inwardly as the stupid words left my mouth. When would having a thick cock shoved up your ass become comfortable, anyway? I sighed, both with the pleasure I felt, and with the silliness of my thoughtless comment.

I contented myself with stroking her smooth back and her black silky tresses. She shivered under my palms, her trembling flesh causing the light of the afternoon sun to shimmer on her sweaty skin like it would off the scales of a freshly caught fish just pulled from the ocean. I chose to believe she shivered from the gentle caresses I bestowed upon her.

Ember rose slightly from the tabletop. She pushed back against me, ever so slowly. She ground her ass, swirling it about, corkscrewing my ebony fuckmeat. Absolutely incredible. Her asshole clenched me tight enough to strip the skin from my cock. I couldn't believe that there weren't any curly, flayed bits of dark skin hanging loosely from the base of my shaft. Christ, my cock felt like it had been turned on a lathe.

Her inner ass muscles massaged my cock with delightful waves of pressure. Trying to shit me out of her ass wouldn't get her anywhere. It did make me appreciate the fact that I had insisted that a daily enema become part of her morning toilet. Things would have been messy otherwise. "Relax, Ember," I admonished. "Stay still. Don't hurt yourself."

She humped her ass against me even harder. I couldn't get any further into her. No, she was out to make me come as fast as possible. She banged her ass against me, with an insistence I can only name desperation.

"Feeling good?" I asked her.

"Better," she said. "Not good. Not yet."

I had to give to give the girl credit. She was a trooper. She continued grinding against me, thrusting her rear into my groin as she gyrated her hips. "Ah, God. That feels fantastic!" I told her. The feel of her asshole on my cock drove me wild, even more than her cunt did, if you can believe that. Her snatch could do tricks, I tell you. It seemed her asshole was also a quick learner. It had some special techniques of its own. My hands crept around her sides and covered her firm tit flesh. I kneaded her breasts, snagging her dark nipples between the index and middle fingers. I pinched her elongated nips gently.

Reaming a woman's asshole felt great, certainly, but it paled compared to the knowledge that she was doing this only for my sake. She received little if any pleasure from this. In all likelihood, I caused her great discomfort, if not outright pain. I shuddered with the thought that her sacrifice was all for me. I covered her back with my broad muscular chest. I nibbled at the nape of her neck, her ears, the sides of her cheek B any bare skin I could reach, sandwiched, as I was, between the tanned, perfect lobes of her muscular ass.

Her bucking against me got more insistent. "It's time, Ashe. Use me."

Hey. Didn't have to tell me twice. I moved my hips, fucking my little Asian doll with slow, cautious strokes. Before long, I felt free to jam her ass full of licorice stick as fast as I could, heedless of her feelings. The wooden table creaked in time to my ass fucking. Ember moaned each time I lunged into her, and hissed every time I pulled out. Moan. Hiss. With the occasional whimper thrown in for good measure. The regular sounds lulled me into a trance like state, a zone where only pleasure existed. My pleasure.

I felt a hand probing around my balls. No, not my balls. Her cunt. Ember had slid a hand down to her privates to stroke herself off as I pummeled her nether orifice. I stopped fucking, and grabbed her around the waist. How I managed to keep my cock up inside her still mystifies me. I spun her so her back was on the tabletop, her legs up over my shoulders. Then I moved them down around my hips so I could pull her off of the table. Immediately, her legs clamped around my waist of their own volition.

I carried her over to the couch. I sat on it, in the corner of the L-shaped furniture. Ember immediately spun about so she faced backwards. Replacing my steely grip upon her waist, I straightened, arching my back as she bounced on my cock. Her head was thrown back in pleasure, her hair cascading over my right shoulder and down the back of the couch. Her legs were spread outward and up, her toes pointing out to the sides. She reminded me of a tiny bird with its wings outstretched, just alighting from the heavens.

"Look, Ember. Open your eyes and look in the mirror."

She opened her eyes and gasped. There she was, sitting with her legs splayed lewdly, my black spear shoved up her enlarged anus. Her puffy cunt practically glowed crimson due to an entire day spent fucking. I pulled on a nipple and moved it up and down, stretching the breast into a pointy cone. Her hands crept to her cunt. She diddled herself with one hand, while she wildly dug at her clitoris with the other.

She stared at herself. The picture seemed to please her. Her smile grew as she bounced on my cock. "I am pleasing you." A statement, not a question.

"Yes," I barely managed to reply.

Her feet came to rest on my knees, the perch facilitating her ramming my cock up her asshole.

"Help me, Ashe," she moaned. "Use me harder. Make me come." Hey, I was glad to oblige her. I cupped her asscheeks and helped her move on my thick rod. Her hands frigged herself faster than I would've believed possible for a human being. I felt my pleasure grow, both from watching her wanton display in the mirror, and from the feelings her well stretched asshole made all around my cock. She had stretched to accommodate me quite well. She fucked me like a Pro.

Well, I suppose she was a Pro, come to think of it, but in the world of anal-play, she still held a novice's rank. An uninhibited, eager to please novice, she was. I loved that about her.

Her whimpers were a thing of the past. She moaned in delight as an orgasm racked her petite frame. She collapsed heavily on my cock, sending it jamming up into her the furthest it had ever been. The sharp thrust punctuated her climax nicely, I thought. She squealed as her orgasm took her, joy-juice dripping out in copious trickles that slid down my balls. 

A nice man would've tenderly stroked her while she came off of her plateau, kissed and cuddled her for a bit, then would've started sexing her again until he got his chance to come.

Unfortunately for her, I could be a bit of an asshole when I put my mind to it.

I flipped Ember onto her stomach. Her knees landed on the carpeting with her heels together, while her toes faced outwards. Each of her arms fell on a separate part of the L-shaped couch. I buried her face in the corner of it, close to the pile of loose throw cushions. She'd put them into play soon, I wagered. Her awfully distended asshole gaped outwards. It no longer closed all the way. I dribbled some saliva into it. The contact the steaming liquid made with her abused meat made it rapidly contract. Her inner muscles worked the warm, sticky substance into a gooey froth. Her asshole looked like the maw of a rabid animal. Well, I had something ready to inject into her belly close at hand.

I covered her and jammed myself into her dilated rear eye. She took me all the way in without any resistance whatsoever. At last, I could say her ass was truly mine. I humped her savagely, her pixyish frame rocking wildly as I worked her tight backside. She wailed into the cushions, just as I had anticipated. I held her shoulders in an iron grip as I rode the anal express. She pushed back in time to my thrusts, slamming her rear into me with a force even greater than my own. My guts started to ache with that familiar lancing pain that skewered my entrails and nut sack just prior to me busting a nut. Her ass greedily gobbled my cock, milking it of cum as I shot into her bowels. My whole body felt flushed as it emptied the entire contents of my balls into her guts. Exhausted, I fell on top of her.

The exploits of the day had finally caught up with me. My dick shriveled, sliding out of her on its own accord.

"Are you satisfied?" she asked me.

"I'm bloody tired, that's what I am." I kissed the back of her neck gently. "I'm more than satisfied with you. You've always managed to please me, Ember."

"I am overjoyed to hear that," she replied. I felt her trying to rise. Reluctantly, I rolled off of her. She stood up on unsteady legs. "I think I will sleep in tomorrow. You fucked all my energy out of me."

I stared at her openmouthed. She kissed me on the cheek. "Not a swear word, Ashe. Simply the most appropriate. What you did to me was not making love, I am thinking."

"Upset?" 

"Not at all. A woman sometimes needs her man to use her like that so she knows he still desires her body."

"Have no fear on that score." I pulled her to me. My mouth sucked in her left nipple and nibbled at it playfully. I cupped her ass cheeks, one in each palm and squeezed them as if kneading dough.

"Enough bragging, Andrew Grissolm. You could not become hard right now, no matter what I did to you. Besides," she said with a grimace that scrunched her flat-faced features prettily as I pawed at her ass, "I hurt right now."

Man, I could understand that. My cock felt like the remnants from the meat grinder. Only its sausage skin kept the whole thing together. The word 'raw' didn't even begin to describe how sore it felt.

"I need a bath," I told her. "Care to join me?"

"Only if the horny black man promises to keep his hands to himself," she replied. She ran to the bathroom, eager to be the first into the shower. How she could run so quickly in high heels remained an enigma. As much as a quandary as Miss Yoshikawa herself. In one short year, she had managed to work herself into my life and into my heart. Everything I owned was hers, and well she knew it. My ascent to my feet was not as graceful as hers had been. I almost fell on my face when I stood up. Once my world stopped spinning, I followed Ember into the bathroom.

I honoured my word, and kept my hands off of her. Ember, however, had other ideas. Once we were both clean, she dropped down to her knees and sucked me off right there, in the shower. Shows you how talented she is with her mouth. She could make even my exhausted cannon go pop one last time. Even as she pleasured me, I couldn't ignore the pain that she caused. Fuck, my cock hurt!

"I am certain my anus hurts more, Andrew Grissolm."

I didn't bother to reply.

As I came once again and she greedily swallowed my ejaculate, I marveled at how fortunate I was to have a woman like her in my life. Little Girl and Old Soul, Madonna and Whore. What a combination. I'd do anything I could to keep her happy. Hardly a sacrifice, since insuring her happiness always guaranteed my own pleasure. 

---

Those who have been following my E&A storyline may notice that it jumps from Chapter 4 to Chapter 6. No, you are not missing something. I've been receiving emails to the effect that my writing style is too flowery, much too tame, and that my erotica simply isn't. As an experiment, I tried my hand at writing gutter-porn -- a harder edged sex tale, with less plot development and characterization. The results are above. 

Like it? Hate it? Let me know! Please send me some feedback, and don't forget to vote. The future Chapter 5 will (hopefully!) bridge the time from where Ember still hasn't been laid by Ashe, to the time outlined above where she takes everything the man can throw at her and more. 

Hope y'all are looking forward to reading it as much as I am to writing it! 

-T



Ember & Ashe Ch. 7



I'd spent three days in Paradise surrounded by twenty of the world's most beautiful women. I'd controlled them all, dictating what they'd worn, how they'd moved, how they'd dressed - or hadn't dressed - for the entire weekend. I'd ruled fairly, with an iron fist sheathed in the softest velvet gauntlet.

By the end of the shoot I'd wanted to throttle every last one of those uncooperative bitches and piss on their fucking corpses. Damn, those models had bad attitudes! My days in Hogtown saw me logging over sixty hours of work and under eight hours of rest. Believe me when I say that leaving Toronto behind for Vancouver's beautiful coastline pleased me greatly.

Vancouver, home, and Ember. I desperately craved to return to all three.

Funny to think that I'd only encountered her for the first time a year ago, hustling for tricks in the back alley of a coffee shop off East Hastings. Now Ember occupied a special place in my heart. I'd never imagined I'd fall in love. Now that it had happened, I couldn't imagine life without her. Eimi Yoshikawa made me complete. That thought had scared me once but no longer. The little love I gave her I received back tenfold.

Right now I needed more than Ember's love. I needed some downtime in my bed. Sleep deprivation had me feeling nauseous. Not long after entering my home and crawling upstairs exhaustion piled upon me, almost knocking me to the floor. I didn't even bother to undress. My face smacked into the pile of bedding, soon followed by the rest of my utterly spent body. My entire frame relaxed as tension rushed out of my gellified limbs like blood from a slit wrist. Gratefully, I let my consciousness waiver on the brink before plummeting into the dark chasm of blissful unawareness.

The morning's unwanted light percolated through the drawn blinds of my bedroom, seeping through even my tightly shut eyelids. I armoured myself with the extra thick eiderdown comforter on my bed, cocooning within its fluffy folds. Sleep wouldn't be long in coming, I reasoned. No light, no sound, no cold - just peace.

And an overenthusiastic Ember.

My woman whipped back my cover and pried open my eyes, using her thumbs to pin my eyelids to the upper ridges of my eye sockets. Her bright, beaming face glowed like the fires from a thousand odious suns. One sun had been problem enough.

"What the ..." I groaned.

"You are home! I am happy!"

She stood by my bedside, patiently waiting for me to say something. What, I couldn't tell you. My mind, tired as it was, still functioned in photographer/videographer mode. I took in my petite Japanese girlfriend from the top of her long tressed, black haired head to her high heeled, golden sandalled feet.

My dear Ember wore amber like a fly encased in petrified pine sap. Metallic lamé panels shimmered on her body-hugging cocktail dress. The golden second skin barely covered her firm ass. As she leaned over me her palm size breasts stretched downwards, the mounds almost totally revealed by the thin cloth. The deep vee plunge of her dress reached her waistline. A yellow topaz glinted in her navel, winking like a third eye. The halter-like top left her arms and shoulders wonderfully bare. The delicate slipknot on the back of her neck would allow me to strip her instantly. One sharp tug and the bow would come undone. Believe me, even in my weakened state I considered yanking on it.

Yes, my golden-skinned girlfriend dressed all in gold. The precious metallic glow complemented her already considerable beauty. Gorgeous, yes, but also very overdone for seven-thirty in the morning. What the hell was going through her head?

She crawled on top of me until her knees pressed sharply against my armpits. Her firm ass came to rest upon my stomach. Her long legs and high-heeled feet ran down my sides, squeezing together and clamping me in place. I guess all those hours in the home gym had paid off. She had Adductors of Steel. As she leaned forward her thick curtain of hair fell upon me, temporarily blocking out the light. She swept it back with a practised motion, one that revealed her beautiful, smiling face to me once again.


Hold up! Ember was wearing heels indoors? This boded ill for any plans for sleep I harboured.

You see, my little kitten was Japanese through and through, from tits to clit. Despite being born over here, her formative years had been spent living with her strict Japanese parents. She never wore shoes inside the home. She only broke this cardinal rule when, like now, she wanted to fuck. Even then, she only wore them because I adored them and insisted that she do so. She'd do anything to please me.

"Why are you still in your clothes?" she asked.

"Ember, I'd really like to sleep."

"Sleep later. Right now, I must welcome you home."

Today, sadly, I wanted no welcoming. She'd please me the most simply by leaving me the fuck alone. The realization must've dawned upon her. The way her sunny face set just then into a flat featured, crinkly expression of distaste tipped me off long before she frowned. She fished my flaccid cock out of my pants, nose wrinkling as the reek of stale confinement hit her.

"Andrew Grissolm, go and bathe immediately!"

"Sorry Kitten. Haven't slept in three days. Too tight a schedule. Haven't showered, either." 

"You may rectify that right now. Please go and bathe."

"When I wake up. I need sleep."

Her insistent, rather rough stroking of my cock had no effect upon me. My limp penis refused to stir. Her beestung lips assumed her patented Pout-Posture, one of the cutest she had in her wide and varied repertoire of endearing facial expressions.

"What did they do to you?"

"Only worked me to death. My little son's as tired as I am."

She growled. The low sound reverberated deep in her chest. Her soft grip became steel as she pulled up sharply and twisted. Somewhere in the foggy recesses of my brain a single electromagnetic response triggered the correct reaction to the sharp stimulus. 'Pain,' it said. 'Ow!' I replied.

"That hurts, Kitten. I didn't do any of that kind of working out!"

Her sigh was the very one a mother of six obnoxious children would give her OB/GYN after being told she had unlucky number seven on the way. "Will you truly not go and bathe for me? I have missed you terribly these last five days."

"As I did you. I dreamed of coming home to you. After I get some rest we'll go out."

"Let us stay in instead."

She rained kisses over my cheeks and lips, her hands twisting through my dreads. Exhaustion robbed me of the ability and the desire to resist her advances.

"Out of my bed, woman! I need sleep, not sex!"

Pouty Face transformed into Pissed-off Face, an expression I'd learned to fear long ago. A pissed off Ember became a very dangerous Ember. Bad shit happened to those who royally annoyed her ass.

"You are not happy to see me. Otherwise, you would greet me properly."

"Ember, please. Can't this wait 'til morning?"

"It is morning already."

"I meant tomorrow morning."

"Hrm. Suit yourself. Perhaps I will not be here when you awaken."

"Lady's choice. Just leave my house keys before you take off."

I didn't hear her cross the carpeted room, only the ear-splitting slam of the bedroom door and then the sharp, staccato clack of her heels against the parquet flooring retreating in the distance.

I guess things could've gone worse. I also didn't hear any plaster fragments rain down from a shattered ceiling and doorframe.

§§§

I'd never reached this level of physical fatigue before, not even when soldiering in the field with Perdition's Flames. The mental exhaustion outstripped the physical. Sleep wasn't merely a desire. It had become a necessity. I rolled onto my stomach and buried my head under a couple of pillows.

Sleep wouldn't come.

Ember had only wanted to welcome me home. I knew she hated being alone. She feared it, in fact. She craved attention and always wanted to be around me. We didn't have to be doing anything special. Just being together was enough for her. She'd reached out to me for comfort and security and I'd shunned her. Tired or not, would it have killed me to simply hold her for a few moments? 

Fuck yes!

Ember always wanted what she wanted, when she wanted it. Perhaps it was long past time for her to learn that she couldn't always have everything her way. I needed my rest more than she needed sex.

Didn't I?

I knew I'd have to smooth things over with her. I decided to take her out this evening. A nice seafood dinner at the Sandbar followed by a little dancing at Babaloo's would fit the bill nicely. I hated Latin dancing, but she ate it up. I'd do anything to keep her happy. Actually, more placated than happy. I didn't want to feel the Wrath of Eimi today. I didn't think I could deal with it in my weakened physical state. Even in the best of times, Ember required a strong man to control her. She could sense weakness and knew how to exploit it.

Things all came together in one panic-filled moment. Her annoying insistence about having sex. The way she'd been dressed. The last time we'd gone dancing at Babaloo's. It had been on her birthday last year.

I was fucked.

A man could sleep anytime. He only had one chance to make things right between himself and his justifiably-riled girlfriend. A quick call to the Sandbar would serve to confirm our table for this evening. The place had become rather exclusive lately but I knew the staff very well. I'd leave them a quick voicemail then get some shuteye.

No sooner had I picked up my cell phone and punched the ten digits that the bedroom door swung open. Ember held a covered tray in one hand. A sparkling white linen napkin draped over her arm, maitre d' style. Her face lit up when she saw me up and about, but clouded over just as quickly when she spied the cell phone glued to my ear. Ask anyone out here; weather changed quickly on the West Coast. Eimi was a Pacific Rim Baby, for sure. She greyed faster than Vancouver did in the wintertime. Sheepishly, I terminated the call and waited for the storm's fury to be unleashed upon me.

"Ember! I just realized - "

"You are on the phone. I thought you were too tired to speak to anyone?"

"I had something important to do. I was calling to make - "

"No excuses, Andrew Grissolm! You pushed me aside so you could do business. Am I not important to you?"

"Of course you are!"

"So you say. Your actions tell me otherwise."

Ember turned to leave. She now held the tray in a two handed death grip. "Is that for me?" I asked.

"It was for you. I thought you would like some breakfast. But since you are so handy with the phone, please feel free to order in something."

"Christ, Ember, would you just listen to me?"

"Not when you raise your voice," she said. Ember slipped out of the door, leaving it wide open behind her. She hadn't made a sound. I almost chased after her, but forbore. She wouldn't listen to me. When pissed off like this she wouldn't even look at me! In the best of circumstances my patience would've been minimal. Right now, I'd be downright hostile. Ember didn't like hostile. No sir. I'd let her chill a bit before trying to apologize.

Not that I should've been contemplating apologies, you understand. I'd done nothing wrong. But peace had to be maintained in the household. I'd sacrifice my pride to insure that Ember remained happy.

I didn't believe that I'd be seeing Ember again today. I didn't like how it had come about, but I welcomed the respite. I tossed my phone into the leather, high backed chair in the corner of my room and snuggled into my comforter once again. The way I felt I knew that Sleep would arrive soon. Believe you me I'd be here to welcome her into my bed. She was the only woman I wanted to snuggle with right now.

§§§

Sleep didn't come. Her cunt of a sibling Guilt plagued me, instead. Why didn't I simply tell Ember I remembered her birthday and had been making reservations at her favourite restaurant when she'd walked in? Too easy, that road. I always clung to the moral high ground and rarely apologized for my actions. My reluctance to communicate openly with her often caused misunderstandings between us. One day I'd learn how to compromise. Today, unfortunately, wouldn't be that day.

It wasn't only this that bothered me. I'd other reasons to keep an eye open. The only emotion Ember felt more intensely then affection was spite. Sweet, gentle Eimi turned downright evil when crossed or slighted. Regina Fredericks, a close friend of mine had found that out a couple months back. Once a declared hedonist and proud bisexual, Reggie had sworn off women once Ember had gotten through with her. Reggie now felt that women were too vicious to bother with, finding men much more tractable. Perhaps this was the other face of Janus. The submissive had another, backward looking visage. That one filled with fierce pride.

Eventually I dozed off, fading in and out of consciousness. I knew this only because the real Eimi Yoshikawa didn't have feral, glowing crimson eyes or wickedly curved fingernails that drew blood as she raked them across my broad back. As I fucked the shit out of her tight, scalding pussy Ember sliced up my back into a bloody ruin. Scarlet rivulets flowed out from my savaged brown skin. Perhaps my mind warned me about the dangers inherent in fucking around with Ember's emotions. An incensed Ember was a dangerous Ember. Man, I don't know. All I knew for sure is that sometime later I had to take a serious piss. I'd drunk a lot of water on the flight home and now I had to pay it forward. My bladder hadn't long before it exploded. I tried to get up.

My limbs refused to cooperate. They simply wouldn't move. My eyes wouldn't open, either. The world remained dark.

I don't scare easily, but I'm not ashamed to tell you that I almost wet myself. My filled to capacity bladder didn't help matters. I flexed my muscles and strained. I heard the clink of metal on metal, and felt the bite of steel manacles upon my wrists and ankles. Someone had shackled me, and blindfolded me as well.

"Are you finally awake?"

"Ember?"

"I have been waiting for you."

"Handcuffs?" I rattled the wrist manacles. "Let me up. I need to piss."

"No, Andrew Grissolm. You have the bad habit of leaving your woman behind when you have your freedom. I prefer you bound like this."

"Stop fucking around!"

"Language, Andrew Grissolm."

"He sounds very angry." 

Another lilting Japanese voice had spoken, one very Emberesque in tone but not Ember's. In other circumstances the soft, pleasant voice would've given me an instant erection. Present circumstances didn't lend themselves for creating a sprung cock, though. "Who the fuck's that?" I snarled. 

"A guest. Please show her the proper respect."

"Respect? You've cuffed me to the bed, for fuck's sake!"

"And you forgot my birthday."

Oh shit. "Hey, I remembered! I was making reservations when you came in the last time."

"Truly? Why did you not wish me a happy birthday when you first arrived? Why did you not come home with a gift? Why did you not treat me like a woman when I begged you to? You remembered too late, Andrew Grissolm."

Busted. "Sorry Kitten," I said sheepishly.

"I believe you are sorry. But an apology must be earned. Something so easily given has no value."

"Meaning?"

"You will find out soon enough."

I don't know who did it, Ember, the strange woman, or an unidentified third party who had yet to reveal themselves, but someone sliced open my clothes and tugged them off of my body. "Hey! Those were my favourite pair of pants!" I shouted. 

"I would have expected a man who enjoys tearing off my clothes at every opportunity to remain silent while I return the favour."

Ah. I saw her plan. Payback was the theme of this sex party! She'd be out to Do Unto Me all of those little things that I'd inflicted upon her in the past year. I really hoped that she'd use her common sense when deciding what to do. I loved anal sex, but in this one instance it truly was better to give than to receive. 

The first touch of warm water upon my skin almost made me lose control of my bladder. The gentle kisses of the sponge slid over me, cleansing three days worth of sweat from my body. The sponge concentrated its efforts upon my armpits, groin and feet. It finished up by scrubbing my asshole raw. Now that alarmed me! What the fuck did Eimi need my backyard tidy for, anyways?

"You are clean at last. Good."

Someone removed the blindfold. The bright light that inundated my eyeballs blinded me. Slowly, a gorgeous Asian face appeared out of the fiery corona that seared my retinas. A face very much like Ember's, but not Ember's. The young woman matched her for loveliness, but had wavy, light brown hair cut close to her head and curling inwards around her cheeks. It framed her round, plump face. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked me over. Emerald eyes on a Japanese maiden? I couldn't tell whether they were natural or coloured lenses, but the look worked well for her.

I'd been so taken with the woman I'd neglected to look around. When I did, I saw the three video cameras arranged around the bed. A monitor on a swing arm showed the output on a three picture display. Wherever did she learn how to set up and configure this kind of array? I certainly hadn't shown her!

"What the fuck's all this?"

"I had time these last few days to play with your equipment. I have learned a few things."

"I'd say so!"

Ember slipped my now clean cock into her mouth, sucking the limp member in like I'd slurp up an udon noodle. I stiffened quickly. Eimi could revivify a corpse. I held no chance against that talented mouth of hers. Her aggressive, kamikaze-style head techniques rapidly brought me close to the edge. “Shiori, help me,” Ember said. When the woman tried to help herself to a mouthful of black meat, Ember pulled my cock away possessively. She pointed to my feet. “Down there,” she clarified.

Shiori obeyed instantly. When my big toe slipped in between Shiori's plump lips I almost came. A toe job? Shiori did for my toes what Ember did for my cock. Each one of the little fellows had a chance to wriggle in her hot, sucking mouth. I had a hard time identifying which appendage received the most pleasure. I struggled to hold out, but failed. I erupted, sending scalding, sticky seed streaming straight into Ember's sucking mouth in sticky spurts

Incredible enough action to be sure, but just then Ember hooked Shiori from behind her slender neck and pulled her forwards. Shiori's mouth opened, permitting Ember to kiss her deeply. Ember deposited my wad into the other girl's mouth. Shiori's throat worked steadily.

"God damn!" That's all I could say as they played lacrosse with my ejaculate, passing the sticky stuff back and forth between their hungry lips until it all vanished. A little trickle of jism ran down Ember's chin, a thin white trail that clung on for dear life. Shiori's long tongue darted forward, serpent-like, and retrieved the last trace of the sperm.

"Ember?" I said. I needed her badly. I had sex on my mind and nothing on my cock but cool air and colder spit. 

"Quiet. You may watch us from the monitor, but I order you to remain silent. This will be my gift from you. You will be an observer of my play session."

"Your what?"

"You were to be a participant, but you treated me so poorly."

"That isn't true!" I protested.

"Must I gag you, Andrew Grissolm? I know where you keep them."

This bitch was tripping! Anger grew within me, so I forced myself to relax. I guess I had this coming. I also had to admit that I'd had a blast so far. Hot girl-on-girl action was always a welcome treat in AndrewLand. If that wasn't enough incentive, I'd also decided that I didn't really want a golden, five inch spiked heel rammed up my asshole or something. I'd be much better off if I sat quietly and let Ember orchestrate this afternoon's sexual performance.




Ember & Ashe Ch. 7



"Strip me," she commanded.

Shiori made short work of the gold lamé dress, getting Ember naked faster than I could've done. Without direction, Shiori sat down on my leather wingback chair, patiently waiting for Ember's next command. She didn't wait long. Ember bound her feet together and tied her hands behind her back. The white cords circled the back of the chair and snaked underneath it, securing the petite Japanese beauty. Ember climbed over Shiori, standing on the chair arms while bracing herself on the wall behind it. She slowly crouched, bringing her bared snatch closer to the bound girl's face. Ember somehow maintained her precarious balance on the arms of the chair. Her heels sank into the thick leather padding. I almost said something, but clamped my jaw shut. What was a ruined chair or two compared with seeing two Asian babes getting ready to go at it? Being cuffed to the bed aside, I was liking my afternoon so far.

"Pleasure me, Shiori." Ember commanded.

Shiori knew quim like Ember knew cock. Ember ground her simmering hot-pot onto Shiori's probing tongue. She lunged so hard that the lower girl's head sank deep into the plush leather headrest. I couldn't see Ember's face, but the way her pale ass frantically worked up-and-down told me enough about the pleasure she felt. The wet, smacking noises sounded like music to my ears. Each sharp note in the Symphony of Lust made my cock throb. How the poor girl could breathe baffled me. The way Ember pushed herself on the woman I was sure she'd be capping off Shiori's nose and mouth, both. Wonder what Ember would do if the girl passed out? Knowing her, she'd find some mind-blowing way to resuscitate her. I routinely enjoyed her imaginative sexual techniques. 

Ember, of course, knew this.

"Like what you see? You could have been with us had you not spurned me."

As much as I wanted to answer Ember, I didn't want to be gagged. Ember actually looked disappointed at my ready compliance. How's that for fickle? The one time I decide to humour her and she looks let down by my silence. Ember roughly pushed herself off of Shiori, turned around a hundred and eighty degrees, then sat on the girl's upturned face. I didn't need to see anything to know what was going down. Or going up for that matter. That little scrunched up expression on Ember's face told me everything. Shiori had gone tongue fishing for brownfish. Ember ground her ass in tight, circular patterns while she diddled her sweet, flared open pussy. Her delicious, wet gash smacked as she reamed her fingers into herself. Ember's entire body quivered. Her damp skin shone, as if she suffered from fever.

I wondered if I ever made her break out in a sweat so quickly. I thought so, but maybe not. I don't know where she found this Shiori woman, but she certainly knew her stuff. It had been a long time since I'd desired another woman besides Ember, but I really wanted to take a ride on the Shiori Express. The little vixen looked like she could handle cock as well as Ember could.

Without warning, Ember rose from the chair. She swayed unsteadily on her high heels. I'd expected her to come over, but instead she turned her back to me and released Shiori from her bondage.

"Turn around for me," Ember said in an uncharacteristically stern tone. "Kneel on the chair as you grasp its back. Let your feet dangle off the edge of the seat cushion."

Shiori instantly obeyed. She assumed the requested position with a precision that hinted at experience in these matters. She might've looked like innocence personified, but little Shiori had more than an afternoon's experience in decadent behaviour. 

Ember pulled out a prepared tray from under my bed, whipping back the cloth to reveal the implements du jour. She selected a black leather crop from the silver tray, then showed it to me, held up high. I wondered why she did that. Then I remembered the cameras. 

She dragged its tip underneath Shiori's furry purse. Ember drove the tip of the hard leather into the Shiori's orchid. Ember withdrew the crop and used it to trace a sticky trail over Shiori's upturned ass. Three, rapidly delivered smacks from the wet leather tool made Shiori's ass writhe. The kneeling woman moaned as her ass received its punishment.

"Eimi?" Shiori said.

That, evidently, had been the signal my little Ember had been waiting to hear. The word hadn't even been completed when a vicious stroke of the crop cracked across Shiori's buttocks. She squealed. Shiori's body shot forward to escape the pain. Ember gently grasped a hip and pulled her back into the correct position.

"Do not run from me, Shiori. Savour the gentle touch of the crop and learn to accept it. Please count the strokes I deliver to your ass for me, starting from one."

"One!" Shiori moaned as the next blow cracked across her asscheeks. The stroke raised a beautiful red welt. The second stroke evoked a haltingly delivered 'two,' from the suffering girl. When the next blow struck across Shiori's inner thigh, she called out 'three.' Ember tsked loudly.

"Where did I strike you, Shiori?"

Shiori thought for moment. "My leg, Eimi."

"What did I ask you to do?"

"To count the blows." Shiori thought a little longer. "To count the blows on my ass," she amended.

"Just so. What should I do with you, now?"

Shiori didn't hesitate. "You must make me restart my counting from one."

"That is what I thought, as well." The next brutal smack across Shiori's ass made her groan. A hand involuntarily moved to cover her ass. "I will accept that noise as 'One,'" Eimi said. She scratched her nails over the red welts that covered the firm asscheeks of her submissive. God damn! Ember really did have rather evil-looking demon claws for fingernails. Perhaps my subconscious had paid more attention to Ember than my waking mind.

Ember reached a hand between Shiori's legs and played with her pussy. She drove her hand in and out of the girl's sodden box with cruel lunges. The wet music created by Shiori's damp, sucking pussy made me squirm on the bed. I wanted to stick my cock nads-deep into that snatch. Ember looked over at me and smiled. "Like what you see, Andrew Grissolm?"

That was a loaded question if I ever heard one! I remained silent. Ember slipped the crop over my iron cock. She smacked its head lightly at the tip. "Nothing to say? I never realized how meek you could be."

Meek? Me? I tried to stand up again. I didn't get far. The forgotten manacles held me fast. I yanked against my bonds, making the headboard creak with the strain. Eimi instinctively leaped back, then smiled down at me. "Perhaps not so meek after all," she said. "A tiger chained to the thinnest of trees." She planted a light kiss on the very tip of my twitching cock.

I'd hoped it would go further than that. One thing in this world I'd never tire of was Ember's gorgeous mouth savagely working over my cock. Alas, that was not to be. She pulled off me slowly. Carefully. A tigress giving her suffering prey a little breathing room before she pounced upon it to finish it off. Seeing my frustrated look, she only smiled at me.

"No more for you, Andrew Grissolm." She left me so she could fetch a large dual-headed dildo. That monstrosity looked every bit as thick as I did, only much longer in either direction. I noted with satisfaction that the latex had a nice cocoa colour very close to my own warm shade of brown. Heh. Even when angry with me she couldn't get enough of me. 

"Why not come here and taste the real thing?" I taunted.

"I prefer the one I have in my hand," she replied. "It does what I want."

What the fuck could I say to that? Bitch! 

She wasted no more time bantering with me. Ember took the huge dildo and forced it between Shiori's jaws. Slick, frothing spit soon coated the rubber tool. My girlfriend continued to work Shiori's throat with the thing until I expected the poor girl to faint. To her credit, Shiori took the fake meat easily. The scene fascinated me. It afforded me a glimpse of how Ember must look when sucking my own cock. Every time the massive crown of the cock head slid out of Shiori's mouth, more drool fountained over her chin. Her face shone with it. Without warning, Ember yanked the lubed-up rubber cock out of the prostrate girl's hungry mouth. Shiori moaned more from its startling absence then she had when it had stretched out her mouth and throat. Ember wasted no time on Shiori's feelings. She donned a black leather strap-on harness and secured the now-slick dildo to it. This in itself took awhile. She eased the thick tool into herself, giving her tight pussy adequate time to adjust to the girth of the toy. Time that hadn't been spent before violating Shiori's face. Then again, Shiori had not complained. Before long, the brown rubber dildo jutted menacingly from Ember's crotch.

Damn! If I looked like that while approaching a woman, I was amazed that I scored any pussy at all.

"Are you ready for more?" Ember asked Shiori. Her green eyes crept shut as her mouth opened wide. "Good girl," Ember purred as she grabbed the other woman by the hair on the sides of her head. A sharp thrust of her hips buried the dildo deep inside Shiori's throat. The woman's head reflexively snapped back as her air was cut off. Ember roughly wrestled the other woman's head back into position as she forced more cock into her. Shiori's entire body quivered as Ember ruthlessly face fucked her with the dildo. The woman's slender hands clung on to Ember's hips, using her for balance. When she tried to push off of the cock, Ember yanked her head forwards. Shiori gurgled around the block of rubber wedged in her throat.

Every few lunges Ember made sure to completely pull out so Shiori could breathe. During these brief respites I could hear Shiori's rough breathing as she greedily gulped in great mouthfuls of air. Each time, Ember would stare down at the woman and ask, "Are you ready for more, slut?" Each time, Ember would forget about waiting for an answer and plow the dildo back into Shiori's mouth. Ready or not, Ember force-fed Shiori more cock. Her slightly bruised lips always curled around the dildo in a faint smile. I could tell that seeing this pleased Ember to no end.

"You do like that," Ember said needlessly during one such break. One only had to look at the enraptured slut to see the truth. 

"Yes," Shiori replied.

"Good. I will give you more of it."

Ember used the thick cock as a club, bouncing the hard rubber against Shiori's lips, chin, and cheeks. Each time, the slight Asian woman moaned. 

"Where do you want this?"

"In my pussy. Please?"

Ember laughed, unaccustomed cruelty hiding in her voice like thorns in a corsage. "In your filthy hole? Make me believe it."

"Fuck me. I desire your cock in my pussy. I crave it. Please? Please, Eimi!"

My usually docile now turned Domme girlfriend made a show of taking time to consider her supplicant's plea. She snaked the cock underneath the woman's chin and used it to crane Shiori's face upwards until it gazed into her own. Their looks held each other, chips of the darkest obsidian meeting fragments of emerald. They peered into the infinite depths of each other's souls. The longer Ember stared, the more whimpering noises Shiori made, as if the cock had already entered her. The piteous sounds could make a eunuch hard! Ember finally came to a decision. "I will do as you wish," she said. "Prepare."

I couldn't tell you how that poor girl was supposed to prepare for shit. Ember used neither carefulness nor gentleness. She pried open Shiori's pert, sore lips and forced the cock back in-between them. Ember fucked Shiori's mouth even more roughly than before. The woman gurgled around the rubber brick. Simultaneously, Ember dug her fingernails deep into Shiori's ass, kneading it like a kitten making biscuits on a duvet. 

"Ugh!" Shiori blurted from around the cock implanted in her face.

Ember continued to work at the other girl's ass. She raked it with her fingernails. She slapped it with her palms. Often, she pinched the delicate skin so hard that bright red florets bloomed on Shiori's golden hide. I had no doubt that Shiori loved the attention. I could smell her from where I lay. A musky, clean scent much heavier than Ember's, but very similar. Without preamble, Ember positioned herself behind Shiori's pussy, grabbed onto her waist, and thrust inside.

"Oh! Yes! Fuck me!"

"Trust me, slut. I intend to." Ember's no-nonsense tone shocked me. This aggressive Ember was a stranger to me. Her usual docility when it came to sexual matters had vanished.

Ember's constant assault of Shiori's pussy produced a stream of moans. As hard as Ember's thrusts seemed, Shiori wanted more. She slammed her ass towards Ember, trying to force more latex cock into herself. Ember's body glowed, the sheen of perspiration making her skin shine in the light. Droplets of sweat rained down on Shiori's ass and back as Ember furiously worked the cock into her. Each time Ember thrust the cock in, she let out a sharp grunt. Only then did I remember that that cock’s identical twin was firmly lodged inside of my woman! True, she was fucking Shiori, but she was fucking herself just as hard. I gasped aloud, imagining myself fucking these two wild women until they fainted. That noise made Ember's head spin towards me, then towards camera number two. She licked her lips, smiling seductively. She had planned things out well! That camera captured her best angle. 

"Oh! Ashe! Fuck me harder. Shove that fat cock into me!"

Ember echoed my own surprised gasp. Her hard, rhythmic strokes stilled. Shiori, lost in her delirium, kept on thrusting her ass against the dildo for few more strokes. Eventually she stopped, her face a study in confusion.

"What did you say?" Ember whispered.

"I asked you to shove your cock into me."

Ember scowled. "You asked him to shove his cock into you." If Reggie had been around she would've taken cover. Shiori, apparently, didn't have Ms. Frederick's newfound wisdom.

"I did not," Shiori said.

Ember slapped Shiori's ass hard, her fingertips cracking across a round butt globe like a whip. Shiori yelped.

"You most certainly did."

To forestall any more arguments, Ember cued the video she was apparently recording and replays the last few seconds of their session. Shiori paled, a difficult task for anyone with her golden complexion to accomplish. She turned panicked eyes toward Ember.

"An accident, Eimi!"

Ember smacked her ass again. The loud crack that bounced throughout the room could shatter glass. "No one else may call him Ashe. Do you understand?"

Shiori sobbed. "Yes, Eimi."

Ember did not look placated. "I will make sure you never forget." She left Shiori, and bent down beside the bed. I heard her rummaging for something. When she stood back up she held a knobby, short vibrator in her fist. When switched on, its three segments rotated at varying speeds and in opposing directions. It reminded me of heavy machinery used to augur through rock. I couldn't tell if Ember intended to fill Shiori's pussy or to rip her a new one with that gadget.

Ember stuffed the toy into Shiori's sodden box. The girl took it without too much effort. Not surprising, considering the fucking she had just endured. Her apparent indifference vanished when she felt the tip of the thick rubber cock blindly probing around her tight asshole.

"Too big! Please, Eimi, stop!"

"Ashe loves fucking a woman's asshole more than any other part. If you truly desire him, this is how you must learn to take him."

Now, I won't claim to know everything about anal sex, but I can tell a novice from a professional any day. Shiori felt some discomfort from the sheer size of that tool entering her, but she must've had long familiarity with the procedure. In less time than I would've thought possible Ember had three quarters of that monster cock inside her golden plaything's rectal cavity. She only stopped when Shiori let out a long, ragged moan signifying no more could fit. Ember then squirted Frixion all over Shiori's ass crack, working it in with her fingertips. Shiori's rough moans smoothed out as the lubricant acted like a balm for her burning anus. Ember pumped her hips slowly, moving no more than a few centimetres in either direction. Even so, Shiori grunted underneath her.

Fucking incredible action, man! My only complaint? I couldn't see how that dildo looked skewering Shiori's ass. Ember would've had to have a Mini-DV Handycam with her, pointing straight down to bring that shot up on the monitor. It pleased me to see that she still had some learning to do, even as it annoyed me that I would miss out because of her ignorance. Then again, perhaps it wasn't an oversight but a plan. Feed the Black man appetizers but then ban him from the main course? I quickly dismissed the thought. Not even Ember could be so cruel.

Could she?

"How do you feel?" Ember asked.

"Strange," Shiori replied. "I feel you scraping against the vibrator in me, as if no flesh separates them."

"I would like to feel that one day." I noted the envy in Ember's voice. I pitied Shiori, then. Envy often turned to anger in Eimi-ville. 

It came as no surprise to me when Ember started to fuck Shiori's ass with a vengeance. I didn't know what bothered Ember more, the Freudian slip with my name or the feelings that she was missing out, but she meted out some severe anal punishment. Slowly, Ember's position lowered as she ass-fucked the other woman. Soon, Ember's hips slapped hard against the ass cheeks her dildo split apart. Not only had she managed to get all of her dildo inside Shiori, but she now fucked the woman as if she intended to pulp her guts into mash and force it up her throat and out her mouth. Shiori constantly cried out, the discrete sounds blending into one long continuous stream of babble. Despite the perceived violence, I had to check my pity as I deciphered Shiori's wails.

"Take my ass, Eimi! Take it! Take it! Fuck me!" Over and over again. The words came so fast they climbed over each other on their rush to escape her battered frame. Ember reached forward and grabbed a handful of Shiori's hair. She snapped the woman's head back as she buried that rubber cock to the hilt. Shiori screamed, her entire body spasming uncontrollably as her orgasm hit. Ember stopped moving, keeping a death grip on the fist of hair as she used her free hand to stroke Shiori's back. They remained in that position, locked together by the brown rubber assault bolt that secured them both. When Shiori collapsed, Ember followed her down. 

Even for a woman, the speed at which Ember's moods could change always startled me. She rained gentle kisses on the nape of Shiori's neck and shoulders as he stroked her body with both hands. She then deftly unbuckled her harness and withdrew the dildo from her. That left the glistening dildo jutting straight out of Shiori's ass. It wriggled like a snake having a seizure as Shiori convulsed. Only then did I hear the pussy-grinding vibrator still at work deep within her pussy. Shiori, still softly moaning, shook with pleasure.

"I will claim my present now," Ember said. She stroked her puffy, slick twat as she approached me.

"I thought your present was me watching you two?"

"Silence."

Most of the time, Ember and I made love. Today, however, she fucked me senseless. She let all of her pent-up frustrations feed her desire. She took from me what had been denied her with Shiori. She wanted an orgasm, and intended to get it. She twisted and bucked upon me, making my cuffs jangle against the bed frame. Her face looked feverish. Delirious. The Eimi Yoshikawa I knew and loved didn't exist here. Only a sex starved Succubus fresh from the Abyss. She had come to take her pleasure and claim my soul, leaving only an empty husk chained to the bed.




Ember & Ashe Ch. 7



My cock felt so damned good that eternal damnation was fine by me! For a fuck this grand I'd welcome oblivion.

I caught myself grunting. The sounds I made sounded no different than the ones Shiori had made earlier. Just louder. And deeper. And more of them. 

I guess she wasn't getting what she wanted. Her teeth nipped at my ear lobe. The sharp pain made my torso contract and my hips rise up off the bed. My cock also swelled within her, inflated by the sudden unexpected pain. I tried to grab her. The shackles prevented me from doing so. But she saw, and laughed at my helplessness. Impotence fuelled rage. I twisted and jolted in an attempt to cast her off. Fat chance of that! Her talented pussy clenched onto my cock like a vice as she quickened her motions upon me. This infusion of anger into our fucking pleased her. Ember increased her exertions, too. Her ass now slid back and forth smoothly, her gash sloppy and slick with her own juices. My pole and her hole seemed perfectly tooled for one another, a close tolerance fit of parts without the slightest hindrance due to friction. My engine moved through her tunnel with a speed a Tokyo bullet train would envy. Unfortunately for me, the same speed guaranteed a quick resolution to our coupling. I burst within her, scalding seed splashing deep within her twat. She didn't stop fucking me, though. Not until I felt reciprocal wetness geyser out from deep inside her. Only then did she clamber off of my spent frame and suck up the juices pooling around my cock and balls.

"Oh, me too, please?" That from Shiori, who had been watching us with rapt attention.

Ember coolly looked over at her. "I should not, presumptuous cow, but you did perform well today."

Ember strutted over to the other woman, spreading her gash with her fingers and looking at her invitingly. Shiori practically leaped to her feet and ran to Ember, fastening hungry lips to Ember's pussy. She nibbled and sucked at that twat like a dieter would a creme-filled doughnut. Ember pressed Shiori's face hard against her snatch, holding it there while she feltched all of my cum from Ember's puss. Ember did not relinquish the girl. She kept her face planted within her until I saw Ember's entire body quiver, wracked with another orgasm. Ember's thighs tightened up, the muscles in her toned legs contracting. When Ember's orgasm subsided, she callously pushed Shiori away. The discarded woman curled up at Ember's feet, lazily running a hand over one of Ember's calves as she nibbled and licked at Ember's toes imprisoned within the strappy gold sandals. Ember reached down and unbuckled her shoes, slipping her petite feet out of them. She kicked her sandals aside, then sat in my winged back chair. 

Shiori scootched closer to her mistress, grasping one foot behind the heel and lifting it to her mouth. She treated Ember's foot as she had earlier treated mine, servicing each toe in turn within her hungry mouth. Ember's other foot toyed with her plaything, one minute sliding along Shiori's cheek, another moment rubbing at her engorged nipples or pushing against the vibrator that still churned within her twat. Of course, Shiori did not remain idle. She gently bounced on the rubber spear that still jutted out of her ass.

"I trust you will not forget my birthday again?"

I blinked. Ember's dark gaze locked on to me and to my cock that stirred once more. "Nope. I think I'll remember this day when I'm lying on my deathbed." I meant every word.

Ember smiled. "I am glad to hear it." The playful smile she gave me made me smile in turn. Her smile vanished when she retrieved her crop and let loose with a vicious slash across Shiori's hip with it. That surprised me. It didn't seem to faze Shiori. She let out the smallest gasp and then looked up at Ember, ready to receive instruction. She hadn't even stopped giving Ember's foot a tongue bath.

Ember nodded, pleased. "Go now. Wait for me in my bedroom."

"Yes, Eimi."

Shiori left, not even giving me a glance. She, like Reggie, had learned that lesson well.

"Enjoy your rest, Andrew Grissolm."

Fuck. I thought I would've been Ashe by now. "Um, Ember? Aren't you going to release me? I really gotta take a leak."

"No, you should stay in bed and rest for awhile. I think you can hold it until tomorrow morning."

"What? You wouldn't dare! Ember? Mffffft!"

She really did know where I kept my stuff. She also had prepared in advance. She had stuffed my mouth with a black rubber ball gag, one she had kept ready underneath the bed.

"Goodnight, Andrew Grissolm. If you are good, perhaps I will release you in a few hours. I might even let you watch the second tape Shiori and I will be making. Bye bye!"

With that, Ember left.

I waited for a full ten minutes for her to come back before I had to admit to myself that she wouldn't be returning anytime soon. Though I should've been, I wasn't angry. Great sex, a great show and great Tape? What did I had to complain about?

A burning bladder. I had to piss something fierce.