3 comments/ 37969 views/ 11 favorites What the Hell Am I Doing? Ch. 02 By: satinlvr_mwf -------------------------------------------------- Author's Note: This is a new series of stories, all of them holding at least a kernel of truth, if not more. Not all will have full-on sexual contact and/or encounters, at least as I have it planned, but I hope the reader will enjoy the feelings, and emotions, that went through my mind. That being said, there is going to be a lot of interracial sexual relations, sex with strangers, and even some violence. Call it adultery, call it slavery, or call it submission, whatever label you choose, but unless you have a CONSTRUCTIVE comment, I'm not interested in hearing your blithering, whiney fingers scream about how I should be divorced, shot, made homeless, or abandoned. We all have enough troubles in our days without listening to your opinions on how someone should live their lives. With that said, if you are still here, please enjoy this second installment: -------------------------------------------------- I had literally melted into the grasp of the man, his calloused hands mauling me as he continued to suckle my tongue into his mouth. My voice mewed like a kitten, and I could feel my body suddenly highly aware of my surroundings. The wafting of air across my nearly naked form, his hand holding my bra-less breast through my charmuese blouse, the sound of someone dragging luggage down the hallway. All of it served to heighten the senses as he electrified me. For now I was his slave, his toy, and in pretend, his wife. The cool metal of the necklace and charm had warmed by my body heat, and the dangling charm began to stick to one side of my cleavage, the perspiration leaking from my pores adhering the shiny words to my skin. I was able to turn my body, fully able to face him and not break the languid surrender of that kiss, the tip of my tongue wiggling against his as his thick, dark lips suckled my tongue into his mouth. My hands hung limply still, yet my hips started to act with a mind of their own, and I began to thrust against his fully-clothed body. The rough fabric of his jeans felt hard against my blonde strip of curly dark pubic hair. If anyone had a doubt, I was a natural brunette. All they need do was look under my skirt, or in this case, simply open their eyes. I was figuring the latter would be more likely. Ben didn't allow me to wear much while I was under his control. He finally broke the kiss, and I reluctantly and softly groaned. There was something about that initial surrender that just did it for me. A combination of arousal, desire, need, and even debauchery that just made me shiver, in a good way. Today was no different. I smiled to him, flashing the smile made of braces when I was in high school, the taunting and teasing, of 'brace-face', and 'metal mouth', and kids calling loudly, asking what station I was picking up now worth it. My smile could open doors, even get lunch for me. Now, of course, I was using it for something I wanted even more. Ben. My Master. I wanted him so badly, I could feel the first slickness gathering at my folds. He didn't waste time with his own clothing, stripping himself to full nudity even as I stood before him. His black skin, and there was no other word for it, for he was dark as coal, was sheened with his body oil, and even in the light of the room, I could see every contour of his well-toned body. He wasn't the young-buck of his physical prime, but slightly older, probably in his late-30's, that time when our lives grow busier and things such as going to the gym gave way to more urgent tasks. For me, I didn't exercise much, and didn't have the stamina of an athlete, certainly. But in his youth, I bet Ben had more muscles than many, and even as his chest sagged a little, his arms and thighs were taut and strong and the muscles that controlled his manhood were well-developed, and strong. He stood there, his hands on his hips, and his cock was hardening as he stood there, his own arousal matching my own. My eyes dropped to watch that magnificent organ develop into the woman-tamer it was, and I was sorely tempted to drop to my knees, and give it the adoration it commanded of me, yet this time I would not give him the blowjob I was tempted with. Instead I reached to my top, delicately grasping the hem in my fingertips with crossed arms, and lifting it higher and higher, exposing the rest of my body, until it was inverted over my head, and draped down my arms. I began to twist my wrists, twirling the satiny fabric tighter until the blouse became a binding, my wrists firmly encircled and held tightly by the silky material. I held it over my head, and took a few steps around the black Adonis, and made my way onto the bed, not bothering to pull down the covers. Not that I could anyways, with my arms bound. I made my hips swivel with each step, my spiked heels helping me in my task, until I reached a corner opposite him, and I lay back, my arms over my head. Using my heels and shrugging my way, I shivered across the bed, until I was diagonally across it, and my hands were hung on the corner furthest away, as if I was tied down. I looked to Ben, who was merely watching my lascivious display, and I licked my lips with a moan. "I will fuck you or whom pleases you, as you want, and any way you want." I purred. My repeating our litany assured him of my loyalty to Him, as well as sharing my need. The moaning and writhing of my hips, straining at the pretended helplessness of my bound wrists had evidently become a greater demand on Ben than anything else currently, and he simply clambered on the bed, his knees between mine. Laying upon me, he flexed his abdomen, and curled his knees, lifting my hips until my body was bent, and my knees were tilted back, my shins now level. Cradled like this, I was indeed now helpless, as if I would want to stop his advances. My knees parted wider for him, as he lay his equipment atop my belly, the thick, black shaft almost leering at me with its slit as my eyes were drawn to it. The feeling it on my skin, warm and pulsing, almost like an alien tentacle, was also something I relished. I had surrendered control, given everything to Ben, my passion, my lust, and soon to be, my body. My heart was hammering and my chest was heaving, my large and deep breathing made my breasts sway gently as my eyes looked up from that delicious woman-pleaser. Eyes looking deeply into his, he didn't really smile much, other than perhaps that small grin of a man knowing he is going to mate, until he broke my gaze and looked down, his body tilting up on his heels, hands reaching for that thick tool. I let out a gasp as I first felt him, using his cock along my folds, my lubrication already evident as I had been thinking of this moment for what seemed like hours. He used that probe on me for almost a minute, if not more, my hips starting to rock on their own, my body desperate to feel him in me, and I moaned. "Please..." That made him smile, a toothy grin that showed a large gap between his upper front teeth, and a gold cap on an incisor. Applying more pressure, and aiming himself, he found my tunnel, and he began to push, building in force until my vagina yielded to him, and he first began to enter me. "Here it comes, slut." was all he would say. My eyes rolled back into my head, and my head fell back to the bed, my back arching to help allow him entry, as well as release some of the sudden tension in my body, muscles flexing tightly. My hands suddenly clenched, knuckles white as I felt more of him enter me, and the loud guttural whine from my voice began. It was the start of my vocal litany during sex. A loud whine as I was entered, and a soft gasp as I was vacated, the frequency increasing as the man's thrusting pace quickened, until there was nothing but a loud scream in my climax. It didn't matter who I was with, from my first lover to Ben, all men including my husband made me do this. This night would be no different. He took his own sweet time to fully enter me, and it gave me time to collect my wits and glance down and see the great contrast between our skins. My Brazilian strip of fur being the only bridge between my bikini-tanned whiteness, and his coal black darkness. My mind luxuriated in the feelings, the sight, and the conflicted emotions. What I was doing was wrong, I knew that. I was disobeying my marital vows, I was dishonoring my husband, and I was having what was, in my family anyways, taboo sex. My thoughts ended in the last thought of my cycle, and the lack of sexual safety. I was unprotected, and he was bareback in me. I figured I was safe for this trip, having recently ended my period, but one was never absolutely certain, and that added to the sexual tension, the thrill. Yes, I could wind up pregnant, the bearer of a black man's child. I looked up in time to feel him lay down on me, his knees cradling my body between his, and his elbows collecting my shoulders from underneath. His one hand on my hair, he pulled my head back, until my lips were to his, and we licked tongues lewdly, our passions growing as he began to thrust. The kiss lasted exactly three thrusts, until my vocal emissions took over and I could do little else but writhe and cry out in his control, his he rocked his hips, fucking me. Each thrust was my body tensing, fingers clawing at the air, back arching and wriggling, making my jugs shake up and down, and side to side, my nipples already hard and making me feel a burning sensation as they brushed against his chest. My love canal began to tighten on him, and begin to massage his monstrous equipment as it repeatedly thrust in me. I was in ecstasy, I was in pain, I was in glorious sexual pleasure, I was going out of my mind. I wanted it to end, but I needed it to last. In and out he went, and my consciousness streamed thoughts, images, feelings, and perhaps even colors. The haze of sex was overpowering, and at some point I tried to curl up as I screamed, my body having the first climax of this mating. Ben usually made me have two, if not three, just using his cock, and as soon as the first one began to reside, I had but scant seconds to recover before the next one began to build. My voice again began its serial whining, and my body was now sheathed in perspiration. The bedding had a small stain of my lubrication leaking from the seal of my vagina and my small gush of my own orgasm, and the mattress was singing its own squeaky song. Ben's tempo began to increase and my body reacted, each of his thrusts full, fast and furious, until his hips began to spasm erratically, his own body losing control, and he began to ejaculate into me. I couldn't necessarily feel his semen spilling into my vagina so much as know he was cumming, and that knowledge was enough to make my own body have my second, longer screaming release. My arms pulled uselessly against my twirled blouse, and my heels pointed up and out at a 45 degree angle. His deep voice made guttural noises and my own softer voice began to whimper softly in tender pleasure, and I began to mew again, the kitten in me feeling full, my pussy well-sated. What the Hell Am I Doing? Ch. 03 Author's Note: This is a new series of stories, all of them holding at least a kernel of truth, if not more. Not all will have full-on sexual contact and/or encounters, at least as I have it planned, but I hope the reader will enjoy the feelings, and emotions, that went through my mind. That being said, there is going to be a lot of interracial sexual relations, sex with strangers, and even some violence. Call it adultery, call it slavery, or call it submission, whatever label you choose, but unless you have a CONSTRUCTIVE comment, I'm not interested in hearing your blithering, whiney fingers scream about how I should be divorced, shot, made homeless, or abandoned. We all have enough troubles in our days without listening to your opinions on how someone should live their lives. With that said, if you are still here, please enjoy this third installment: ***** As usual, when I exited the bath room the next morning, I found my clothes laid out. As my Master, Ben liked to choose what I would wear, and because I liked to provide him some variety, I tended to pack heavy. My husband would ask me why I would take a dozen outfits for a five-day trip, and I would just explain to him that some of the trip involved client dinners and so on, which required me to change into something nicer. What I said was true, I would wear dressier outfits at night, and yes, even a few times per trip, I might have a client dinner. I just never told him the whole story. I gave a small snort, one of remorse, I suppose. It was about my feelings. I was conflicted sometimes, and this was one of those moments. I absently fingered my necklace, my collar, and the charm written on it, the words 'Fuck Me' dangling from the thin chain. My husband was, and is, a good man. He has given me a safe relationship, he is kind, and he is protective. He works hard, and he is enjoyable to be around. I just wish I could get him to be more adventurous. Even the idea of having sex on the floor in front of the fireplace was not something he would do easily, and often the nagging needed to get him to explore such a simple thing would spoil the mood. In a word, he was plain, and even boring. I could get all the clever conversation and humorous times I wanted with him, and plenty of loving and warm sexual intimacy. But sometimes, well, more than sometimes, I wanted, or even needed, something wilder. More adventurous. I needed times when I could just let my hair down and just let... things... go. Drop to the ground and have sex in a corner of the park? Sure! Give him a BJ in the middle of a camping trail? Have me grab my ankles and let him lift my skirt and have at me? I was all for it. Wear costumes and role-play? Certainly. I would enjoy all of that, and often wanted to. I just couldn't get my husband to crack open that shell of vanilla around him. I felt guilty, at times, of my submitting to Ben, and letting Ben do those things I wanted my husband to do. I really wanted to get my husband to come out of his shell, and enjoy sex with me more. I would end my relationship with Ben in a heartbeat if he would. But until he did, I needed a release, a time when I could let go and have someone else be in control and know what to do with it. If I didn't, I am afraid of what the long-term effect on our marriage would be. Ben actually had a rather surprising sense of style, and I rarely disagreed on what he would select. Once or twice, he had picked something a little too risqué for me to wear in a professional setting, but most of the time he was on the mark. Today was no different, and he had selected my special purple satin pants, and a crème silk blouse. On the floor lay a pair of strappy heels. No bra, no panties, nothing else. The blouse was somewhat sheer, but the multiple layers of fabric that made for breast pockets on the top gave me the coverage necessary to keep me from being arrested, and only pushed the edge of business propriety. In fact, I had even worn the same top to the office, and while I had turned heads, I hadn't been chastised, or even called to HR about it. The pants, though, were indeed a special case. I had bought them from an adult catalogue, and what made them special was that they were essentially crotch-less. Wide-legged, like bell-bottoms of the sixties that had a wider taper in them, with a built-in belt, and pocket-less, the seam that joined the two halves together was split, reinforced, and the edges finished, so that if I was to spread my legs, the seam would open and expose my labia. In fact, if I pulled them up tightly, I could even manage to get my fleshy-folds to protrude from the seam. The material was very soft, and supple, and shiny. Between the blouse and the pants, I would likely catch the eye of just about everyone at some point or another. Usually guys who wanted to flirt or even more, and women who mostly hated me. I finished dressing just as Ben came back, and he had brought breakfast with him. In my case, it was just some fruit and a croissant, while he had something a little heartier, and we chatted for a while, and he set his expectations with me for the day. I learned that he might have me help him entertain someone, but things were up in the air. I also reminded him of a small problem at work, a corporate employee of a rival company was also visiting my client at the same time, and while I could usually deal with that, this particular guy was a creep. He was heavy-set, to be polite, his hygiene was leaving something to be desired, and he was arrogant. He was constantly butting-in or trying to demean my own presence with the client, and just generally being a pain in the rear. I didn't relish having to spend the day dealing with my own business and trying to keep that guy at bay, also. Ben nodded, and he reminded me of my necklace, and the words, and what it meant. In this case, it meant that if I was called out on it, I was to do as I was bid, and not to embarrass him, even if it meant having sex with a complete stranger. Ben knew exactly what to say, and it actually relieved me. Ben was in charge, and I didn't have to be. So I kissed him goodbye, a long, lingering, lashing of tongues at the doorway, and made my way to work, the placement of my hotel making a short commute. The one thing I did do before going in was to cheat a little by swinging my necklace about, hiding the charm under my hair, and at the base of my neck. The chain was still under my blouse, and the loop curved into my bared cleavage, as my blouse was unbuttoned one more than needed, just because I wanted to hold onto my client's attention, not to mention please Ben. The day was pretty much routine, and I was able to mostly evade my rival, whom I'll call Juan, for the sake of argument. I was not able to avoid lunch, however, and the client invited us both to go. This seemed to delight Juan to no end, and as I had to share the back seat of the car with him, he found it irresistible to keep his hands off of me, my pants in particular. The loose-fitting legs made for a certain style, flash, and indeed, comfort, but the soft material also was enticing to feel. I had my own enjoyment of satin, and loved to gently feel it on me. Juan seemed to love it on me, too. His hand started on my knee, which I took the time to move his fingers from me as he set them upon me a few times, giving him a sharp glare. All he did was smirk, and then try again. It was almost like we were children, except it was getting harder and harder to keep him from touching me. Fortunately, the client was in a chatty mood, so as he and his partner drove, they were oblivious to the combat in the back seat. I was getting ready to slap Juan when we got to the restaurant. Unfortunately, Juan made it a point to sit next to me. Seated in a booth, the place was very nice, the service was terrific, and the meal was delightful. Juan, however, was making it impossible for me to enjoy it. With the longer tablecloth, and his sitting next to me, I was trapped between him on the end, and my client's business partner. I had to eat with my utensils, and so that left my pants, and my lower body, unprotected from Juan's malignant caress. He started at the knee, and was content just caressing me there, but as I didn't make him stop, he got bolder. His hand would slide up further and further, in ever longer strokes of my leg, until he was up to my waist. I shot him a hard glare a few times, when I could sneak one, but I was helpless, in a business sense, anyways, to stop him. My mind was thinking of ways to have him vivisected, emasculated, and other sorts of joyful punishments for his audacity, and my reverie was interrupted as I felt his hand slide up my inner thigh. My head snapped towards him, and he just smiled at me, and he wouldn't budge. My eyes were like daggers now, and I was actually plotting on ways to have him killed. Ben having me do things was part of my life was expected. Juan, however, was taking liberties that weren't. The client noticed my reaction, and asked what the matter was. Before I could speak, Juan told him he was sorry for startling me, that he had been attracted to my necklace, for which he then reached between my breasts for, and pretended to inspect it. The partner seemed to take it all in stride, and as Juan was fingering the necklace, my charm fell forward, and along the filigree, until Juan could lay his eyes on it. He looked at me with a questioning gaze. I told him, with some sharpness, I would discuss it with him later, and the partner came to my rescue and suggested that we be heading back. As Juan withdrew his hand, I felt the bolt of his flesh as it brushed in contact with the separation of my pants. In short, the side of his hand had come in contact with my labia. The ride back was more of the same, though Juan was behaving himself more. A single hand on my knee was brushed off, and he left me alone. It was a good thing, as it gave me a new sense of dread to ponder. What would Juan do? Did I have the heart to follow Ben's commandment to me, and honor a sexual request, or even insistence? The day ended with a joint meeting, with Juan laying out his goals for the next day, and my concluding my trip to this client. I had another local one I would visit the next day, and as I was thanking the client for his time, attention, and so on, Juan's eyes were making my skin crawl. I had hoped Juan would have more to say, but he made his excuses to leave as I did, and he escorted me to the parking lot. I was tossing things into the trunk, bending over to make things were arranged, when I felt Juan's hand caressing my butt-cheek. I quickly tried to stand back up, and smacked my head on the trunk lid. Holding the back of my head as I winced, and uttered an oath, It was there he made his stand, and asked about my necklace. I hesitated, using the pain in my head as an excuse to decide what to say. I was torn. Here I was, now pretty much outside business-hours, and now more fully under Ben's jurisdiction. For the rest of the day, and night, I would follow Ben's orders. I had to. It was how I showed him respect. On the other hand, I wanted Juan touching me like I wanted an IRS audit. Juan had now moved to face me, and I finally made the decision to honor Ben, and speak more openly. I explained about being Ben's submissive, and about what the necklace represented. Not the whole story, just about it being my collar, and how Ben used it to control me. Juan listened, or maybe half-listened, I wasn't sure, but when I was finished, he told me that Ben was a very lucky man, and that were Juan my Master, I would be spending all my time pleasing him, not wasting time going to work or anything else. That thought made me shudder. The thought of Juan touching me more intimately was pretty repulsive, and the thought of my doing some of the things Ben enjoyed, like my deep-throating him, was enough to make me want to toss my cookies. Happily denying him, with my voice dripping disdainfully, I uttered some last semi-pleasantries, and turned to get in my car. Juan took a last liberty, of groping my butt one last time, and he leered at me as I drove away. My hotel room, Ben, and a stiff drink could not get to me fast enough! I reached the room, and tossed my briefcase, laptop and purse on the bed before looking about, realizing Ben wasn't there. My thoughts of Juan were so consuming I hadn't seen the note on the table. I picked it up and read it. "Babe, I have to settle some business. I'll be back late tonight, but if someone calls, you haven't seen me. You know what to do..." and he signed it with his name. I twisted my lips in thought. Here I was, pissed off about being molested, in a way, and I desperately wanted to talk about it. On the other hand, Ben's note was pretty clear, he wanted, or needed to lay low. So I wouldn't call him. But that didn't mean I had to stew in the room all night. In fact, I freshened up, and considered changing into evening dress, but what Ben wanted me to wear was usually more revealing than what I had on, and if I was with him, I'd wear it gladly. Without him, I was a bit more timid. So I cheated and just didn't change. I made it to the hotel bar, and sat on a barstool, smiling as a nice merlot arrived. One down and half-way on another, I was feeling better. Certainly more relaxed, and as I scanned about, I saw the usual mix of people. Business travelers, some locals in for a club or group meeting, and Juan. I winced as we made eye-contact. How long he had been there I didn't know, but he took the glace as an invitation and he joined me. "Juan, what do you want?" I bemoaned. "I think I'm going to explore your necklace..." he replied, straight-faced. To illustrate his point, he didn't even bother laying a hand on my knee, he just dove right at my crotch, and he started to grope me. My eyes blew wide open, and as his hand began to molest me right there in the bar, my fingers reached for my necklace. There is was, in full view, the charm, and now Juan knew what it meant. I gasped as Juan found it, the opening, and for a moment, his fingers were in direct, electrifying contact with my sex. I was able to recover and my hand reached for his thick wrist. "Juan! Not here!" I uttered in a harsh whisper. What I had meant to say was 'not there', as in 'get your hand away from there'. My heart sank. I slugged down the rest of the wine, stalling for time as Juan did remove his hand, and he then grasped me by the arm. Leading me out, he led me towards the parking lot. "I'm not getting in your car, Juan..." I told him simply. I had no intention of going anywhere he wanted. If I could stall him long enough, maybe he would simply wear out and leave me alone. Unfortunately, all he did was open the back of his car, and grab his own small travel bag. "This way" was all he said, and he led me off to one side of the main building, the residential-style hotel rooms meaning there was a myriad of smaller buildings, and paths leading here and there and everywhere. What I didn't know was Juan was staying in the same hotel I was. Even worse, it meant I was going to see him beyond this night. Yes, I was going to another client, but the next client was only a few miles away. I was staying in the same place for the rest of the week! We meandered, past the way to my own suite, and towards the volleyball lot. I had explored and walked there before, and always wondered why they had such a thing. No one ever used it, though it got raked and manicured every day. We got to the far edge, between two buildings, and stopped. He turned to me, and I spoke first. "Juan... not here. This isn't the place for this." I fairly pleaded. His only reply was to use his meaty hand on my shoulder and give me a hearty shove to the side, and I tripped and flopped sideways, stopping half-way along the volleyball court, on the grass. I took a moment to recover, rolling onto my hands and knees, when I heard the metallic clinking of a man's belt being undone. I looked over my shoulder at him, and spoke almost nastily. "I am not going to give you a blowjob here, Juan... get dressed!" In the shadows of the building, I could see his body, and I realized, that like me, he wasn't wearing underwear. His manhood stood there, poking out under his paunch, menacing at me while he laughed softly. "You got part of that right..." and he advanced on me. What the Hell Am I Doing? Ch. 04 Author's Note: This is a new series of stories, all of them holding at least a kernel of truth, if not more. Not all will have full-on sexual contact and/or encounters, at least as I have it planned, but I hope the reader will enjoy the feelings, and emotions, that went through my mind. That being said, there is going to be a lot of interracial sexual relations, sex with strangers, and even some violence. Call it adultery, call it slavery, or call it submission, whatever label you choose, but unless you have a CONSTRUCTIVE comment, I'm not interested in hearing your blithering, whiney fingers scream about how I should be divorced, shot, made homeless, or abandoned. We all have enough troubles in our days without listening to your opinions on how someone should live their lives. With that said, if you are still here, please enjoy this next installment: To make sense of this chapter, readers are encouraged to read the previous chapters. ***** I was stunned for only a second or two, as Juan had dropped his trousers, and displaying himself to me. Not that I wasn't making my own display, on hands and knees, my special pants having the slit opened as my knees were, showing him my petals. I gasped, not in amazement or arousal, but in shock. He man was heavy, I knew that, but all his weight seemed to be around his stomach and chest. Rolls of flab cascaded down him, and I couldn't really see his pecker. It was dark out, anyways, but in the light of one walkway in the distance, I could still see a little, mostly outlines. One thing was for sure. Ben or not, I wasn't letting that guy touch me. Not if I could help it. He was only a few steps behind me, and as he tried to walk, with his pants looped around his ankles, I tried to get up and make my escape. Women who have tried to walk in stilettos on grass will know what happened next. With almost every step, my heel would puncture the grass, almost to full depth, and I would have to struggle to get my heel free. I couldn't just slip out of them, the ankle strap being tight around my leg would require me to stop, bend down, and release the buckle. That would have given Juan too much of an opportunity to get me in his clutches. An outsider would have laughed, seeing a thick, dumpy, fat man chasing a slender, well-dressed woman across the grass, in very slow, almost exaggerated steps, but that was what we were. My wearing a sheet blouse and purple satin bell-bottoms, and him wearing a shirt, and his pants around his ankles, we made quite a sight. The slow-motion chase continued, and I was gaining some headway, as I went around the backside of the building. I figured I could get around it, reach the sidewalk first, and then beat feet to my room. I had made one step, past the corner and into further darkness, when I stopped, and groaned. We were at the edge of the property and a cinder-block wall ended the property line. I had managed to cage myself. My heel sunk at the same time, and I looked down to pull it out, and was taking my first step to turn, and try and make a break, when Juan caught me. He damn near tackled me, and I grunted loudly as he landed on top of me, his weight nearly squashing me. He made his own grunt as his flab rolled onto me, and I felt completely covered by him. I was actually nose to neck with him. I landed on my back, and felt the moisture on the grass start to cool my skin, which had been sweating, as well as soaking into the soft satin material of my pants. It was cold. "Juan.. no... This is rape!" I spoke. We had landed directly underneath the back window of one of the hotel rooms, and I didn't want to get caught. I didn't want to risk anyone seeing me, realizing what was going on, or anything. I didn't want anyone to find out about Ben, most certainly not my husband. So I didn't scream. I didn't claw, I didn't do any of the things I should have, to positively protect myself. Instead I tried to wrestle my way out from under a man who had 100 pounds on me. "Nah, you've been teasing me all day, bitch. You want this!" he grunted in his reply. He, too, obviously didn't want to get caught, mainly because of how bad it would look. I was dressed, pretty much, and he wasn't. I looked pretty sexy, and well, he looked like a fat, greasy, slob. A naked slob, who was about to stick his dick in me. I could barely breathe under him, and so that became my main focus. Breathing. "Please... your suffocating me!" I begged him. I felt him reaching between us, and managing his flab, until his fingers grabbed his manhood "This will help you breathe better!" Then he grunted, and I felt him thrust against me, and his shaft began to poke at me. I let out a chirp, and a second one as he thrust again. He was trying to find the opening in my slacks, and on the fourth try, he found it. I squealed, high-pitched, and desperate, my legs jolting downwards, to try and make him stop, but when I felt him, the head of his penis begin to enter me, I gave a muted cry. He had me, and now I was done for! With his cock now in me, he began to thrust, rapid, short and, to me, ineffective, but he was gaining depth, and before too long, he was able to make sure I felt him. He was nowhere near as well-gifted as Ben, or even my husband, but he was able to fill me partially. That was when he rolled to one side, a little, and used his hands to rip open my blouse, the thin material popping buttons everywhere, as my breasts were bared to him. His skin was oily everywhere, it seemed, and his face was nuzzling in to my neck, as he thrust, small hands on my nipples, pinching them hard. Each pinch made me wince, and grunt softly, my lip between my teeth as I tried to be as silent as possible. His own voice, however, was growing louder, and as he pushed into me and then withdrew, his voice would murmur. "So tight.. so tight..." and then he would stick it back into me, and moan, almost like a puppy. The scene would recycle, and it was like a pathetic man, or a teenage boy, was getting his sexual fantasy fulfilled. All the while, I was struggling under him, trying to stave off the inevitable. He bit my neck, and it made me yelp, loudly, and he suckled my skin. I muttered. "Dammit, Juan, no! Don't mark me!" Then to my shock and horror, we were suddenly bathed in a soft light. as my eyes were widely open, and then I heard one of the most terrifying noises. The back window above us opened, and a lone figure stood at the frame, silhouetted. He was watching us, as I looked up at him. He did nothing, said nothing, for a long few moments, all the while Juan's pathetic cock kept pistoning in me. I let loose a small squeal, as it seemed hopeless now, and I actually felt a jolt of pleasure from Juan, as he finished with my neck, a mark I was sure was going to bruise, and bruise darkly. The stranger then reached to his center, and I could see him exposing himself, his thin build and long hair visible as a shadow. I only had a slightly off-center view of him, so I couldn't see what his manhood looked like, but he was evidently ready to get hard, and it only took a few moments for him to begin to moan. All during this, Juan kept at me, like a jackrabbit, his slobbering lips now coating my nipples, as I was being attacked, and my attack was being perved. I had a jolting thought as I felt another small tease of pleasure, and that made me start to squirm again, with renewed energy. "You have to pull out..." I harshly whispered. "You can't cum in me. I'm unprotected!" "Fuck that..." Juan growled, and his pace only seemed to increase. I snarled now, ignoring the man watching us. "Asshole, I can get pregnant!" "Like I give a shit..." he replied. His tone was menacing and low, but undoubtedly our voyeur was watching and listening. Juan never broke stride, but his sweat was dripping off of him, now, and large, fat droplets were smearing on my skin, my face, and a couple even across my lips. I had to sputter as his sweat dropped into my mouth, but I couldn't do much else. The man was so disgusting! His last words, though, pissed me off. Ben wanted me to be compliant, but to willingly have another man's child? That was something I was reserving for two men. Ben and my husband. I took my last defense, and used it as best I could. I've taken pride in my role as a woman. In life, in family, and in public. Especially in bed. I have no qualms about who I am, and what role men play in my life. I am a girl, I'm not a feminist, and I am proud to be the "fairer sex" as men would say in older times. This also meant I not only dressed in a more feminine fashion, I also kept myself that way. I wore mostly dresses and skirts, even my pants had a more feminine flair. I think I only owned two pairs of blue jeans. Long, soft, auburn hair, and gentle make-up, unless I was asked to look like a bit more exotic, and my nails. Long and sharp. With a gentle touch, they would caress, tease, and tickle. However, with some effort, they could also open envelopes, dig into crevices, give a nasty pinch, and, like now, remove skin. I didn't have full reach around his back, my arms and shoulders were under his, but I could reach lower, to his low back, and there I grabbed on, hard, and raked his skin with my claws. His back hair was somewhat matted, and I could feel his hair as I dragged my nails hard as I could manage. He gave a loud growl, and then He shifted on me, and gritted his teeth. There was no doubt his back would be sore for a few days, and maybe he would bleed a little. It wasn't a solid victory, but at least I could now report him for sexual assault. If he climaxed in me, I fully intended to do so, now. The voyeur then grunted, and he must have cum, because I heard him mew, loudly, and then grunt, ahh, shit... shit..." and then the window smacked shut. The window wasn't the only thing that smacked, and I next saw stars as Juan smacked me across the face, very, very hard. What he lacked in charisma, he made up for in brutality. I was dazed, and lost, my limbs falling limply to the ground, while Juan resumed fucking me. I was beyond vulnerable, now, and at his whim and desire. His desire was to inseminate me, and after what seemed like a few moments, I started to come around, just as he was squealing. My body was being jolted, as his hips rocked his body on top of mine, his cock moving in a frenzy as he was ejaculating. He wasn't anywhere near the bottom of my tunnel, yet his semen was spilling into my garden, each of his thrusts ushering his semen further into me. I whined as he was doing it.. "no.. no.. no..." my voice no longer quite, but filled with despair. The real fear of pregnancy was with me now. I know I should be safe, but I was somewhat irregular in my cycles. I would be sweating it for the next few weeks. It was with some great relief, when, after what seemed like ten minutes, he finally stopped his thrusts. He had evidently fallen out of me, his shaft grown soft. I couldn't tell much, only that I could breathe again, and my first, real, deep breath, was a luxury. My luxury was short-lived, however, as I again snarled. "You had better pray I'm not pregnant by you, you cocksucker!" I know it wasn't very lady-like, but my anger was at a new height. "You will be, by the time I'm done..." he snorted, and then he slapped me again, another, equally vicious blow. The stars came out again, and I felt like I was floating. I was, in a way. Juan had started to lift my body, legs first, so he could remove my pants. The wide legs, and slipper satin made it easy, and my blouse, already ripped open, was a sodden mess. Before I could really come around, I was naked, save my heels. I started to turn, to get to my hands and knees, looking up as Juan was on his feet, fastening his pants, while holding my wadded-up clothes. "I'm in room 2260. I dare you to come get your clothes..." He then waddled off, sated, while I was now kneeling, naked, wet, my pussy matted, a slimy trail of his semen smeared between my thighs, and my skin coated with his sweat and scent. I started to get to my feet, unsteadily, and I made it to the corner of the building, holding on to it as my knees steadied. Then my head lifted, and I muttered softly. "Oh, shit... he has my room key!" What the Hell Am I Doing? Ch. 05 I encourage readers to review the first chapters of the story, as it will give context to this latest installment. As usual, any haters can forget posting comments, and so on, and copyright is mine, blah, blah, blah... ***** "Oh, shit... he has my room key!" I muttered. Holding on to the corner of the building, naked, save my heels, my body sheened in a mix of my own perspiration and that of the slimy slime-ball who had raped me, I was a mess. Hair mussed, my bikini-trimmed pussy and thighs smeared and matted with his semen, I must have looked frightful. Thankfully, the only good thing was it was night, and I was in a dark area of the hotel complex. So, what to do next? I stood there, using the building as a shield, as I got my thoughts and my body under control, though it took about 15 minutes or so to get my body to stop trembling. I spun and leaned back against the building, taking comfort that no one knew where I was, or would be able to see me right then. My nipples were hard as a rock, almost painfully erect, as the night air caressed them. Traffic noises abound, and I could not hear much else, though some critter seemed to scrabble along in the landscaping nearby, definitely more afraid of me, than I was of it. My body cooled, and I began to think normally again. I peered around the building, starting to formulate a plan. Just wait. Wait until it grew late enough for the hotel patrons to go to sleep, then go to the desk... get a key. Yes, it would be embarrassing, but I didn't have a lot of options. I was a frequent flyer of sorts, so the hotel would ask questions about my safety, but they would also heed my request to do nothing about my predicament, and also give me the damn room key. Yeah, that would work, and I resigned myself to a potential two-hour wait. Turning back, my chest heaving as I let loose a deep breath, I nearly screamed when I heard a slight tapping on the glass of the window next to me! My gasp, however, was loud enough to give away my presence, had anyone been near. I turned and looked. It was the same shadowy figure who had been watching as Juan raped me, and jerked off to it. He was waving me closer. The window slid quietly open, and he whispered. "Look, I'm sorry... come in, and use my phone, ok?" Decision time. Fish or cut bait. I hesitated a moment, deciding, and then nodded. It was time to fish. "Alright.. but if you try anything..." I replied softly, with an icy tone. The figure started to lift the screen from the window, so I could climb inside. "No, no. I won't... I said I was sorry..." his voice was low as he worked the screen clear, and gently laid it aside outside the window, and offered a hand for me to climb up and into his hotel room. "I just saw you, and it was so hot to watch, like my very own porno." The room was well lit, silhouetting me as I climbed in, highlighting the glop of Juan's semen that fell from my vagina as I spread my legs to climb over the window sill. I looked down as I heard it, and so did he. His response was a low whistle. "Man, that's a lot." Was all he said. I got a look at my rescuer. Tall, thin, and average-looking, he was an older man, perhaps middle-50's, the typical travelling salesman, I assumed. Suitcase on the stand, rummaged through, and he was only wearing his boxers. Cotton ones, with a cross-hatch pattern. The window closed, and the sheer drapes helped hide me from the outside world, but not from him. I decided to try and hold some dignity, and not cower. I wasn't bad-looking at all, and he had already seen everything I had to offer, so what was the point? I stood there, as he could not help himself, his eyes looking me over again, only this time, he could see everything plainly. He looked at my necklace. His only words were "Fuck me." Just as it said on my necklace. Then he started to display what was a growing hard-on. I just sighed, and looked aside. I knew what I had to do next, if he said the words. My Master would insist on it. "Who are you?" he asked in astonishment. "I mean, what kind of woman are you? Do you do this often?" He seemed genuinely confused. Possibly, though, he was interested, I couldn't tell. But his cock told its own story. His boxers were tented by now, and he was not greatly gifted, just an average guy, but he was definitely excited, the throbbing of his cock making his boxers jiggle just a little, and since I was checking him out, too, it made me smile, just a little. I replied to him, demurely. "I'm just a woman... one with some different... beliefs, I guess. A woman who believes that men are supposed to be in charge in the home, and not some raging bitch who demands to be served. And I am a submissive... My Master has dominated me, to the point I wear what he wants, and do what he wants. Including wearing this necklace. To you it is a necklace, but to me it is my collar. Between us, it is what makes me what I am. It makes me do what things he wishes me to do." "Like what things?" He asked innocently. The man wasn't being a jerk, he was actually curious. "Well, pretty much anything. Get him a drink, wear what pleases him, have sex with him, display myself for others, and pretty much anything he desires. He even approves of my daily outfits to wear." I left out the part about fucking any guy who asks me to, but I wasn't going to cross that bridge. If the guy wanted me to screw him, he'd have to demand it, I wasn't going to just give it away. He patiently nodded as he listened, then asked more questions. "Are you married? And your master is your husband? Was that man him?" I wasn't looking forward to answering these. It was going to confuse him, but I did my best, though I noticed his cock was still had full-mast, and a tiny wet-spot was on the end. I had a quick thought, of maybe getting him to blast off just by words, so he would be sated, without touching me. So I decided to be honest. Maybe some of my experience would be enough to trigger his ejaculation. "I am married... " I held up my hand, but forgot my wedding ring as in my room, having taken it off when I met up Ben this trip. All I displayed was the tan-line of my finger. "but my husband is not my Master. I love my husband very much, but he is not a dominating spirit. My Master, he... fulfills an important role in my life. And no, my Master and my husband do not know each other." I threw that in, wanting to avoid his delving deeper into my life. "As for this other guy... " My thumb jerked over my shoulder and out the window. "I do know him, and can't stand him. He's a business competitor, and really is a jerk. What you saw was his raping me." I stood there, matter of factly, as a thin trail of Juan's semen was smearing in my thighs as I shifted. "Let me call the police..." the guy's voice hardened suddenly, and he reached for the phone, moving until he was next to me. I reached out to stop him. "No." I spoke softly, as I laid my fingers delicately on his hand. "Please don't... they will ask questions I can't let be answered. It will destroy my home." He paused, and looked me in the eyes. I let him stare into me, as if he was allowed to read my thoughts, my will. At that moment, I was completely honest with him, and bless him, he picked up on it. "Alright... So where are your clothes?" Again, he was looking me over, and his cock started twitching again. He was also struggling, trying to keep himself from touching his manhood. It was becoming very obvious he wanted to masturbate, to get some relief. I was getting the impression that he wasn't getting any at home. "He took them..." was all I said.. "So now I'm all alone, naked, and vulnerable. I'm helpless..." I spoke now more seductively, and almost child-like. I hadn't planned on this, but it seemed things were working my way. I was hoping to get him to relax, make him release his sexual tension, and then get what I needed. A towel and my room key. "I... can see that..." was all he said, and he lost his battle. His hand reached for his crotch, and mine went with him. I gently ushered his fingers aside, and began to delve into the front of his boxers, to dig out his cock, and tenderly caress it. "I think you need some help with this... I mean, it is the least I can do for the man who saved me from who knows what else?" My voice gave a small, soft and coquettish laugh. My fingers daintily began to play along his cock, softly caressing the top, and along it to his base, before wrapping around it to slide ever so lightly along the underside, to the tip, ending with just my fingertip as I swirled it around his head and leaking slit. I then began another trip down his cock, while he stood there, and moaned in a deeper voice. "I bet you would love your woman to do this to you... or perhaps you would love to take her like Juan took me? Rape her, plainly, where everyone could see her? See her being forced to take you? For you to spurt your hot, sticky seed into her? Make her helpless to you?" I had turned on my phone-sex voice now, purring softly, breathily speaking to him. His hand went to the wall next to us, while his other clenched into a fist. "See her in a skirt, maybe? Not wearing any panties, so she can fuck you in the bar? " I kept up the stroking, long, slow teases of his shaft, barely touching the nerve endings. "Maybe she'll have an accident, and her skirt will rise up, showing everybody what a slut she was?" He started to gyrate his hips now, and his pre-cum was dribbling. I leaned into him, and breathily whispered into his ear, ending with a soft lick of his lobe, before giving it a soft nibble, my breasts rubbing his arm. "OOOOOOooohhhhhhhhhhh!" and that was it. He exploded. I was surprised at how much semen he had, as it spurted into my hand, and across my wrist. His hips thrust hard into my palm,a nd I let him use my fingers to get his pleasure. I felt sorry for him, in a way. Here I was, a rape victim, and here this poor guy was, alone, away form home, and his only pleasure was watching. I was sure now that his watching Juan and me was the best sexual experience he'd had in a while. Now with my hand job, that would be twice in what, an hour or so? He'd probably just had the highlight of his year. He looked at me, and was growing very red, and embarrassed. Like he was ashamed. "I.. I'm so sorry... I... I just couldn't help myself..." Now I felt really bad for him. I smiled, and lifted a finger to his lips... "Shhh... shhh... It's ok... I wanted you to have this... I know you couldn't help me before, and now you are saving me, so you deserve this." I was trying to feed his ego and heroic fantasies now. Whatever it took to get a towel and my room key. I smiled to him. "Please.. you should relax and lay down. Let me get you a towel to clean up with. May I use your sink? I should wash my hands now." "Oh, absolutely. Please do what you need to." His voice had that dreamy-like tone. If I could have wagered money, I'd have bet twenty-dollars he'd be asleep in ten minutes. I would have lost. He was asleep before I came back out from washing my hands. I smiled. Perfect. I went back to the bathroom, and started to softly splash water on me. Then I got one of the large towels, and wrapped it around myself, so I could make it look like I'd been swimming. The towel covered enough, but just barely. As I stepped out of his room, and softly closed the door behind me, I made eye contact with an older couple who were just arriving in the next room. His eyes were as big as saucers, as with my stance, the towel was wide-open, and exposed my pussy to him. His wife, however, was very obviously not approving. "Get inside, Arnie, so your eyes don't fall out!" I turned, and made my way to the hotel desk, much more casually now. Yes, a careful observer could tell I was naked, but I was making the effort to be discreet, and the hotel would not be very upset. It was actually felt a lot longer walk than it was, but I eventually got to the front desk, after carefully checking to make sure my important parts were covered. The desk clerk was just hanging up the phone, after shaking her head. "Ummmm... hi! I need a copy of my room key, please? I was sorta' skinny dipping with some guys, and when they took my towel, they got my bathing suit and key." The clerk looked me over, dryly and snorted. "Yes, I just heard all about it. Ma'am, while you are an important guest, and I know you use our hotel regularly, please don't involve others in your... parties?" She was being somewhat stern, and I guess she was not happy with the earful she must've just gotten. She made the new key and slid it across the desk. "If you need some special... attention," she was being delicate, but still direct, "I'm sure the concierge can assist you. Have a nice evening." I was starting to be embarrassed now. Playing games was one thing, but getting caught was something else. My body was growing a nice reddish tone as she turned and left the counter, going into some back office. Duly chagrined, I made my way back to my room... well, the room Ben and I shared, and found he was still not there. Alone, I started to fix myself up. I took a shower, and even tried to clean my core passage, anything to ensure Juan didn't impregnate me. I wrapped up in my robe, and then sat on the couch. Thoughts came back to me. Ben telling me to behave, being on my own, Juan's advances, my failures at avoiding him, Juan's cock in me, and then being humiliated by being watched, and then having to help my watcher. The final straw was being called out by the desk clerk, like I was some sort of child. Tears started to stream down my cheeks, and I started to cry. What the Hell Am I Doing? Ch. 06 I was awoken by Ben's gently shaking my shoulder, my body so wracked with exhaustion, I had cried myself to sleep right there on the couch. Still wearing just the terry-cloth robe, I was a bit sore, and achy, and through puffy, blinking eyes, I looked up. "Hmm? Oh.. ahhh, I am so glad you are back! I've missed you! It has been a rough night! You wouldn't..." My words were cut off by Ben's. "You think YOU'VE had a rough night? Slut, you ain't been nearly what I've been through..." His voice was agitated, and angry, and worse, his language had deteriorated. He was using his ghetto-accent, one more of when he was younger. He'd tried to better himself, to rise up, so to speak, and had some successes. But when he backslid, it was a very telling moment. He was under considerable stress. I started to rise and looked at the clock. It was nearly four AM. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, and went to him, to hug him, and reassure him, but as I did so, I felt his hands snap up and grab my wrists. Holding me in place, he looked me directly in the eyes. "You have a new job today... call in sick. You are going to spend the day with someone else." His tone was flat, and his eyes cold. "Go get dressed in something hot, and wear your collar. You'll need it." I nodded, and spoke quietly. "Yes, Master..." then reached for my cell phone, and sent two quick texts, one to my husband, and the other to my boss. I was 'sick' today. In these times, I knew better than to argue with him. I'd been smacked around for arguing with him before, and it sucked. So I went to the closet and drew on my champagne satin caftan. Only this wasn't caftan like you would see in a catalogue. It was more like a cape, or cloak, with no openings, save for the neck. A full circle, over 140 inches in hemline, it stopped a few inches below my butt, and draped easily from my shoulders, the material light and thin, silky and shiny, and in some lighting, was almost see-through. It had three snaps on one shoulder, to open enough to put my head through, and a man's collar. I would normally flip the collar up, and then slid my slave collar around my neck, locking it closed, and then flip the collar back down, concealing most of it, with only the ring showing. It was an article of clothing I actually really enjoyed wearing. It afforded a minimum of modesty, and yet posed a lot of risk. If the wind caught it, or my arms reached for the wrong thing, it would expose me, possibly completely, up to the neck. It was sexy as hell, and it tended to draw a lot of attention. Dressed in heels and this, it screamed sexy. I reached into my bag and muttered softly. "Shit..." "What?" "My collar is in my car... I'll go get it." I replied. "Don't be long, woman. You leave soon. I'm gonna' grab a shower." And as I exited the room, wearing the first shoes I could reach, strappy stiletto heeled sandals, my caftan, and a smile, I heard the shower start. I shut the door, and just the split second it latched, I had that other 'oh shit' moment. I didn't have my room key! I decided first things first and so I went and got my collar. I used the hide-a-key under the bumper, and popped the trunk open, having to bend over a bit as I searched for it. I heard one car drive by behind me, slowly, and no other sounds, but I am positive that my butt and modesty were showing, as the hemline wasn't long enough to cover me when I bent over as I was. Score one for some stranger who got an eye-full! It did sort of turn me on, though, showing myself like that. I liked being a tease, and teasing I certainly was. I took the time, as I was bent over, to lift collar to my neck, and slide it around under the caftan, and I clicked it shut, locking it. There were three keys in existence. Ben had one, I had one on my car key ring, and I had one stashed in my jewelry box at home. OK...back to the room, and finish getting ready. I knocked on the door, but Ben was still in the shower. I waited for maybe five minutes or more. I had to take stock. The clock was ticking. Going to the front counter again? I knew I had already pushed my luck with the hotel. I didn't want to get asked to vacate. So that left me with only one option. Juan. God I hated that man... but now he was my only option. And I knew I needed to see him, since I needed my clothes back. I rolled my eyes, and uttered a soft grunt. Fate seemed against me. So I resigned myself to whatever I was about to be subjected to, knowing it couldn't be any worse than what I'd experienced the night before. I softly knocked on Juan's door. It took a minute or two, and then he awoke, answering the door in a wife-beater tank-top, and silk boxers. His hair was a fright, his face needed a shave, and he needed a shower. My nose detected the scent of the sex from his body from last night. "What?" he fairly growled. "I need my clothes..." I replied matter-of-factly. "May I have them? Please?" He looked me up and down, and the contrast between us was complete. I was prettied up, clean, and smelled of vanilla and citrus perfume. He was everything but. However, he did flick on the light, and let me in. I saw my clothes wadded up on the small desk, and immediately went to reach for them. In reaching for them, the hem of my caftan lifted, and from the side, anyone looking might have been able to tell I was naked underneath. He snapped his hand out, and grabbed my wrist, stopping me. "What?" I asked him, looking somewhat surprised. "You have to earn these... and we're gonna' play a game for them." I rolled my eyes and groaned. "Look... enough of this bullshit, Juan... I need to get back." I replied, testily. "This is a five-minute game... and if you win, you get your clothes back. If you lose, you still get your clothes back, but I get something more... This will only take five minutes." I shook my head, knowing I was going to agree to this, but getting angry with myself, and angrier with Juan. "If you screw me over on this, I will find a way to cut your balls off, Juan. So you can't populate the rest of the Earth with scum like you." I was beyond angry, but he smiled a sickly-sweet grin. "Dressed like that? Yeah, you'll be licking my balls, first." I rolled my eyes again. "Whatever, Juan. What's the game?" "Simple, you stand in place... and I try and make you cum. If you can resist me for five minutes, then you get your clothes, and everything, and I won't bother you. If you fail, you are going to suck my cock until I fill your stomach to the brim..." I was so angry, it seemed more than doable, so I agreed. Then he reached for my clothes, actually behind them, and pulled out a set of handcuffs. They looked real enough and I started to back away. "Oh, no, Juan... I'm not doing this with you and me hooked together." He grunted. "You underestimate my fairness... I will only handcuff your wrists behind you. So you can't cheat. And I will not use my hands, either." My sense of dread was building. The clock was ticking, and I was afraid Ben would be wondering where in the hell I was. So I agreed. I turned, placing my hands together behind me, the hem of my caftan floating widely as the soft material swayed with the motion. I heard the ratchet of the cuffs fasten my wrists together, and it pulled my shoulders back, accentuating my C-cup breasts, my shoulders pulled back to thrust them forward. The silky satin draped from my shoulders, and my breasts, with two points hanging from my nipples, showing my body. I stood before him, and he knelt in front of me. "Now remember... if you climax, or if your knees buckle, then I win." He seemed pretty damn sure of himself. My eyes took in the clock on his nightstand. 4:25 AM. The clock was ticking. I stood there, and looked at the clock. Anything to give me something to concentrate on, other than Juan's attentions. He lifted the hem of my caftan, and stuck his head under it, placing his face so very close to my womanhood. It seemed he would take forever to get started, and then I felt it. He blew softly along my crotch, my landing strip feeling his breath as he focused on my petals and my clit. I was able to hold off any real feelings of pleasure, partly because of my anger, and partly because of my not being able to see him. But the not knowing also held a disadvantage, as it made me nervous. On top of it all, I was already moist, from getting my collar from my car. His breath was hot against my folds, and then I nearly jumped. His tongue probed my labia for my clit. I had a sharp intake of breath, as I looked at the clock. 4:26 am. Four more minutes to go. I stretched my shoulders back against the cuffs, straining them, until I got some ache in my joints. Another distraction, as his tongue worked harder on my vagina. I managed to look down, and true to his word, his hands were behind him. But his face was very obviously planted at my sex, and he was lapping me for all I was worth. His tongue darted inside my petals, having opened my gates, and he was teasing me, licking along the fleshy folds of one side, before going down the other side, forming a loop. He repeated a number of times, until I mewed just as the clock turned 4:27. My heart was beating pretty hard now, and my nipples, already excited just from wearing the caftan, rose fully, the grapes on my melons providing a fruit salad for anyone who would sample them. I found out next that Juan liked fruit. I felt his tongue lick upwards at my clit, and I mewed again, suckling in air through my teeth. My breath was coming harder, deep, slow breaths, in and out, trying to stay under control. He rose to his feet, and as he stood, his head was under my caftan still, and it rose with him, hanging from the back of his neck, exposing me. Then he licked my left nipple, and my head fell back on my neck, my long hair cascading down my back. I gasped as he nibbled it, the sensitive bud sending a stinger of teasing pleasure straight through me. My legs were starting to tremble. The clock turned 4:28. I don't know what is wrong with me. Maybe it was the way I was made, maybe it was the naughtiness of being defiled like this, maybe it was the humiliation of it all. But my lubrication was flowing now. Every breath was accompanied by a moan, a soft, deep utterance of pleasure. My whole body was trembling now, and my hips were undulating. Slow, sensuous gyrations that, had a man been against me, his cock would have been giving me a camel toe slide. Or possibly even managed to slide inside me. The very thought of the way Juan was manipulating me was further making me feel waves of pleasure. I was losing the battle, as the clock turned 4:29. I lost track of what Juan was doing to me, other than it felt sooo good. As much as I despised the man, I had to give him credit. He could play me like a fiddle. And then he did something despicable. I felt his lips on my nipple, and then something touched my pussy. My eyes flew open. "No cheating, Juan!" I cried out. "I'm not!" he replied sharply, breaking loose of my other nipple, and displaying both of his hands. Then I felt it again. His cock was pushing against my clit, and down my vagina, searching for my opening. He was going to try and fuck me. I was getting lost in this, now, the tension of his touch, the tension of being bound helplessly, and the tension of fighting the clock. He scuttled just a hair closer to me, and was humping my crotch, my lubrication coating his cock, as he lips attacked my neck. Teeth nibbled at my earlobe, and I squeaked, my knees nearly folding as he was teasing me from above and below. My heart was hammering, and my breath was coming in gasps. I was so close, I knew I was doomed. I could not help it, and I stopped fighting. I gave in to my body, and let it happen, and shortly after, I exploded, trying to pull my hands forward, straining the handcuffs, my hips trying to rotate to get his cock inside me, and my knees trying to widen to let his fat belly closer to me, so I could be impaled. I was defeated. Then I looked at the clock. It was 4:32. Somehow, barely, I had resisted him, just long enough. "Juan! Stop!" I cried out, and took a step back, gasping for air. My caftan fell back into place, and he looked at the clock, his face falling in disappointment. Now I would know the true mettle of this creep. I was vulnerable, and I was trapped. There was absolutely nothing stopping him from raping me. He looked back at me and smirked. He looked me over again, and then spoke. "You aren't dressed like this for me. You've got some catting around planned. That means someone will be looking for you..." He was reasoning this out as he talked. "Alright, cunt, take your clothes and get out. We both know who won here, in the end. You owe me." He then reached for my clothes, and started to drape them over my handcuffed wrists. They fit easily enough under the caftan, but would hang lower, displaying the silky purple satin pants, and the creamy top. "Juan, take these damn things off!" "Can't..." he laughed. "I found these. I don't have the key!" "What?" I exclaimed. "You fucker! You tricked me!" He smirked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Who gives a shit? I got what I wanted. I've beaten you twice in less than a day. And I'll see you next month, where I'll get to play more games with you again. Get out, slut, I need to sleep." He opened the door, and I left, walking a little wobbly on unsteady legs. My head was still a little buzzy, and my body recovering, having been forced to climax, and not fall. My heels echoed off of the walls as I walked, my hips swiveling in wide gyrations, and yet the only evidence of that was my soiled pants, dangling from my wrists. On the plus side, I had my room key back, it was in the pocket of my pants. On the downside, however, I couldn't reach it, so I was still locked out. When I reached the room, I gently kicked the door, and was surprised when it flew open. "Where the fuck you been, slut?" Ben fairly barked at me. "You're late. Git in here!" "I'm sorry, Ben... I was trying..." and I cut my words off. We weren't alone. Leaning against the desk was a pair of black men, and they did not look happy. The tallest one was really tall, like basketball-player tall. And dark. I didn't think men got any darker than Ben, but they did, evidently. He was wearing jeans and a denim vest, with some patches on it. His friend, shorter, and flabby, was about as dark as Ben, with sloppy pants and wearing a similar vest, and dreadlocks. He was eyeing me lecherously, as Ben spoke to the tall guy. "Here, take her." Ben offered, handing out a leash. "24 hours is the deal. She puts out, and we're good, right?" There was a lot of tension in the room. "If she performs, yeah, I'll square it." The tall one now looked me over. "She looks like she's got the body, I'll give you that." I was trying to dump my clothes from my handcuffs, so I could get some help, and wanted to speak up. "Please... I need help, first..." was all I got out, before the tall one had simply reached out and clipped the leash to my collar. ""Help, Bitch?" the tall one smirked. "Oh you are goan' need help when we'd done. Help walkin'!" His friend laughed at the crude joke, and just kept looking at me. I had shed the clothes, and was now just possessing my caftan, collar, heels and handcuffs. I didn't have a shred of anything else on me. I looked to Ben, my eyes pleading, and confused. "Go with them, slut. And take care of them. Do a good job and everything will be righteous. But don't fuckin' say no!" His eyes were serious, and I was still confused. The look on my face was obvious, as the sloppy guy spoke for the first time. "I hear you like makin' babies, bitch. We gonna' find out how much!" The big man simply tugged on the leash and said "Let's go. Time's wastin'" and he opened the door, leading my out. I didn't want to go, and I hesitated, only to be given a sharp tug on my leash, making me stumble forward. My first instinct was to reach out, to protect myself from falling, but the handcuffs stopped me, and only a lucky step of my heel kept me upright. But the caftan revealed me, floating and flying as I was jerked, and the other black guy saw the whole picture from behind. "Hey, she's cuffed! She's already wantin' this!" he laughed again, and I cringed at how much noise they were making and what they were saying about me. It wasn't quite 5:00 am, but the sky was beginning to lighten, and some travelers would be waking soon, if not already. They led me out to the side parking lot, and the big guy had a motorcycle. There was a beat-up Honda next to it. The big man kicked the Harley to life, and was leaving, as I was put into the passenger seat of the Honda, the leash looped over the passenger grip above the door sill. Tied off, it prevented me from escaping. I was effectively loaned out... or traded, or maybe pimped? I didn't know, but I was afraid of one thing. It was about to get rough, for the next 24 hours....