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The Bonding

By: randemwriter



Anya

I had the dream again last night. It's been so long since the last time, that I'd forgotten how utterly real, how devastating, it is. I awoke in tears, as I always do, though the dream itself is invariably happy. The place, the events, the people, are always different; but it is still the same dream. 

This time I was on a beach, somewhere on the Mediterranean I think, and judging by my attire, I'd guess it was the mid nineteen-fifties. There was a group of us, five or six teenagers, and we were drinking beer and talking of taking a sailboat out later in the day. A handsome boy put his hand on my thigh and I laughingly slapped it away. He grinned and shrugged and opened another beer. I continued talking to a red haired girl sitting close by. 

After a time, the sun grew very hot and I waded out into the ocean for a swim. I swam, I laughed, I talked with friends. I joined an impromptu game of volleyball. I woke up crying. 

He has never asked why some mornings, when I wake him with my mouth wrapped gently around his cock, there are tears falling from my eyes. Perhaps he knows about the dream. Perhaps he knows that sometimes, when I sleep, I taste the freedom I have never known in life. More likely, he simply doesn't care why I cry. 

He awoke this morning to my gentle ministration, as he always does. And when he noted the tears, he moaned with joy. His cock lurched and swelled in my mouth, and he held my face tightly to him, forcing open my throat. 

After all this time his lust for my tears has not dimmed in the slightest, but then neither has it grown out of control. It is a constant wonder to me that his darker needs haven't destroyed us both by now. A side effect of the bonding, I suspect. 

I have lived a very long time, and I have seen true evil. I have been witness to atrocities that have left me haunted. My Master is not evil. But he lives in its shadow. Only the magic of the bonding keeps him sane. 

But just as it keeps his sadism in check, it also keeps me from ever becoming accustomed to his games. Each blow is always as sharp as the first, each humiliation is just as cruel. Within hours my body can heal almost any injury, thus every time is the first time. Every rape is the first rape. For two hundred and thirty-six years, I have begun each day as an eighteen year old virgin. 

I was not born what I am, but close enough. I was taken at birth, my body and mind trained for the bonding. I have been a slave all my life, taught to protect and please the one who would take my bond. I'm 5 feet tall, I weigh 104 lbs, and I can kill an armed soldier as easily as he could kill a child. I have long dark hair, light brown skin and large black eyes. I have been told I am stunningly beautiful. Of course I must be, it is part of my dual purpose...to protect and to please. 

At eighteen I was deemed by my trainers ready to bond. They were taking me to my new owner when our caravan was attacked by British mercenaries. We were not a military target, just an opportunity for sport. 

I remember thinking how easy it would be to kill the man who drug me from my palanquin. He was huge and fierce, but he was no match for me. I wanted to kill him. I was not yet bonded, so I suppose I could have fought him. But I had been a slave since birth. Defiance was not in my nature. I cowered from him. I begged for mercy. He laughed. When he ripped away my sari, I cried. When he tugged down his trousers, I screamed. 

His manhood was enormous, as long and thick as my forearm. He fell on me and shoved that monster at my virginity. I was tiny then as I am now and dry as I have not been since. But he was determined. He spit on his hand and rubbed himself for moisture and heaved and grunted and shoved. The pain was overwhelming. Finally, he was inside me. I felt my virginity tear away. Then I felt the bond erupt inside my mind. 

I knew immediately that nothing mattered more in the world than this man's pleasure. Suddenly I could sense his delight in hurting me. He loved that he was so much bigger than me. He loved that he was making me scream with his cock. The power he had over me had him utterly intoxicated. 

My terror grew as the horror of what was happening to me was coupled with a desperate need to ensure his continued sense of bliss. I felt as if I were feeding on his bliss. It was life itself, sweet and pure and more wonderful than anything I had ever imagined. It was not that I shared his delight; I was certainly in no less pain. His emotions were separate from me. They in no way diminished my own terror, but I couldn't get enough, couldn't ever do enough, give enough...

I don't remember being aware of my surroundings, of the fighting, the screams of the dying. My own plight was far to immediate to me. But then I saw one of my trainers. It was a man I'd known since infancy, the one who'd taught me to read, the one who'd taught me all the names of the god. He was struggling to his feet, one arm hanging useless at his side, the other hand clutching a short spear. 

He saw me then, and the man on top of me. His eyes flew wide. I don't know if he believed that the bonding was not complete, or if he was simply in shock. I knew he was not a fool, and yet he drew back the spear, as if to kill my rapist. 

In a heartbeat I was out from under the man, my torn womanhood screaming at the sudden emptiness. In another heartbeat I had batted away the spear; another and my hand was flying at my trainer's throat. And then he was dead. Before his body had even hit the ground I was turning back to my Master, but the pain was faster. 

I gave one horrific scream as every muscle in my body cramped in spasm. I fell to the ground, unable to move, barely able to breath. I had interrupted his pleasure and this was the price. It didn't matter that it had been to save his life, or that I'd had no choice. It was the cost the magic demanded for denying my Master. 

The convulsions seemed to go on forever, but when I was able to stop screaming, my Master was just coming to his feet, his cock still engorged, shock painted across his face. I fought my way to my knees, and bowed my face in the dirt. 

"What the bloody hell just happened?" He grabbed my hair in a fist and jerked my head back. "Answer me, girl, what the fuck did you do?"

"I stopped him from killing you, Master."

He nodded slowly. "But it hurt you."

"Yes, Master." 

"You're still in terrible pain. Your cunt, your entire body. And you grieve for the man you killed."

"Yes, Master."

"You desire to please me, but you're afraid of me, and very, very ashamed. Why do I know so much about you?"

"Magic, Master. I belong to you now."

He nodded again, unable to deny the simple truth of the bond. "You belong to me. Take me in your mouth while your pain is still great." 

I obeyed immediately of course. I could do nothing else. He shoved his cock into my throat. I tried to scream as he choked me and again as he grabbed my nipple between his fingers and twisted. I could sense his lust responding to my pain. 

I sucked on the massive head of his manhood, making him moan and twist my nipple harder. I worked to give him pleasure and he responded by giving me more pain. I wanted this torment to stop, I wanted his pleasure to go on forever.

Soon enough he pulled back to come in my mouth rather than down my throat, and stroked my face gently as I swallowed his seed then licked him clean. I felt my heart would burst with love for him in that moment.

I killed two more men that day, both men of his company who thought to take me for themselves. My master is well over six feet tall and powerfully built. I have no doubt he could have defended his property himself, but it seemed to amuse him to watch me fight. 

I sucked the members of those men who asked to use me, and killed those who tried to take me by force. All at his command. 

After that day, he left his company of mercenaries and we traveled the world together. I have slept naked beside his bed every night since. I have killed and fucked at his command. He gives me pain or pleasure at his whim. 

I wake him each morning with my mouth on his cock. I spend every moment of the day thereafter intent on serving his every desire. I am his slave, and I worship him. But sometimes at night I dream of beaches and friends and innocence, and I wake up crying.

Michael

I awoke as usual to the delicious feel of her tight mouth on my cock. I'd never in all my long years had anyone suck me as well as she did. She'd been crying already, which forced a delighted moan from me. It didn't happen often, this early morning gift of her pain, but when it did I found it intoxicating. 

I could feel her deep sadness, her hopelessness, her shame, though I couldn't discern the cause. I liked to imagine that she'd tried to escape in the night, that despite the magic tying us together, she'd made a desperate bid for freedom. Would she have made it to the door before the pain crippled her? Would she have even made it off the floor where she slept? It seemed unlikely. But the thought of it made my cock instantly hard. 

I shoved myself into her tiny throat, cutting off her breath when I was less than a third of the way inside her. I never got tired of the sight of my huge rod sliding in and out of that tiny face. 

I held her head tightly, feeling her throat convulsing around the head of my cock, so tight it was almost painful. One of her hands cupped my balls, massaging me lovingly as I forced myself deeper. I held her tightly to me until just before she passed out, then I used her hair to pull her all the way off my cock. 

I slapped her face hard with my other hand. "Do better!" I commanded, and then I lay back and laced my hands under my head as she went to work.

I could sense how desperately she was trying to please me, and the intensity of the shame it caused her. She truly did love and worship me as her god, but she hated the bond, and she hated herself for being unable to break free of it. 

In her own land, she would have been a prized concubine to a king, perhaps even made a queen in time. She would have been respected as a protector and pampered as an unequaled lover. She may have been a slave all of her live, but there was a deep, unbreakable pride at the core of her. It was this pride that made her humiliations so very sweet. 

As she expertly fucked me with her mouth, I glanced at the clock and groaned. We had an appointment across town in less than two hours. As much as I wanted this to last, I needed to get the day started.

I took up the willow switch I kept on the nightstand and brought it down sharply across her ass. A tiny cry of pain escaped around my cock as a bright red line formed on her perfect skin. I began a constant whipping with the switch, but she never paused her service. 

"Damn you, Anya, can't you even make me cum? Worthless cunt!" 

She began throat fucking me, faster and harder. I could feel her desperation growing, and her pain. She was really crying now. I kept up the whipping, watching her ass and back become a crisscross pattern of pencil thin welts.

"Make me cum, whore! Now! Make me cum now, you worthless piece of shit! Now, bitch, now." 

Ahhhh... there it was... the pain of the magic. I had demanded to cum NOW, and every moment I didn't her agony grew. 

She tried to scream, but my cock was in her throat. Every muscle in her body began to cramp. She was unable to move, unable to breath, unable to do anything but suffer indescribably. 

Lucky for me these convulsions always left her jaw locked opened rather than closed. Believe me, I had tested that countless times before calling the magic with my cock in her mouth. The total contrast between what she was feeling and the utter bliss I felt finally sent me over the edge. I was in absolute heaven as I shot stream after stream of hot spunk into her belly. 

The moment I was done, I shoved her away. I had no time to savor anything this morning, dammit. "Get a move on, pet. Don't want to be late do we?" 

As I tried to catch my breath, I watched my slave crawl to the bathroom, the pain still too great for her to walk. I sighed, thinking I should have had her wake me earlier. 

After all these years serving me, she was incredibly efficient. She could bathe, shave, and dress me much faster than I could do it myself. Still, some days it was nice to linger over the little pleasures. Ah well. 

I climbed out of the bed and stretched as I made my way into the connecting bathroom. A warm mist from the shower had the room steaming already. 

Anya was kneeling beside the toilet, and as I stepped up, she opened the lid and took my cock in her hand. I smiled and stroked her hair as she aimed my cock at the bowl. There's nothing quite like a girl holding your cock while you piss. It's just so sweet and intimate. When I finished she licked the last drops from the tip, and closed the lid as I stepped into the warm shower. 

I sat on a shower stool as she washed my hair and shaved my face, then stood to allow her to wash my body. When I was dried and dressed, my hair dried and combed, I went into my study to check out the morning news on the computer.

Five minutes later, Anya brought my breakfast to me. I don't typically eat a large breakfast and we were in a bit of a hurry this morning, so she'd simply sliced some fresh strawberries over a bowl of cereal, with fresh squeezed orange juice and a cup of coffee. As I ate, she left to get herself ready. 

As a slave, Anya wasn't allowed the use of the master bathroom. Instead she used the small room connected to the laundry. I saw no point in wasting hot water on a slave, but she did have a tiny shower stall, a sink and a toilet, even a medicine cabinet for all her make-up and such. 

An old-fashioned wardrobe in the corner of the laundry held the few pieces of clothing I allowed her for wear in public, as well as a much wider assortment of costumes and apparatus for my amusement. The one drawer in the bottom held her lingerie and stockings. In one side of the wardrobe was a shoe rack, with one pair of sneakers, and several pairs of 5, and even 6 inch heels, shoes as well as boots. 

Tucked deep into a corner of the wardrobe was an old cigar box. Inside the box was a worn blue silk ribbon, a feather from some type of red bird, a couple of sea shells, and a small murti of Krishna. I had no idea where she'd come by the box or its contents, but I occasionally enjoyed having her kneel on the floor as I rifled through her pathetic collection of treasures. 

She had no jewelry, unless you counted clamps and chains or the dog collar and leash hanging by the back door. 

Aside from the contents of the wardrobe and tiny bath, there was no evidence in the house anywhere that I didn't live alone. This made it convenient for dating, which I did occasionally. Whenever a woman came by, or even spent the night, I'd simply shut Anya in the laundry or leash her to a tree in the back yard. 

After I'd eaten I left the dishes for my slave to take care of later and went out to the garage. Anya was already there. She was dressed in jeans and a snug t-shirt, and her sneakers. She was wearing a bra that actually flattened her modest sized tits, and her hair was in two long braids. She was not wearing any make up. In short, she looked like a very young teenager, beautiful and innocent. 

Today we were going to upset some very bad men. Across town, in less than an hour, a meeting was taking place between the head of a sex trafficking ring and a major drug supplier for this region. There wouldn't be any drugs or girls there, but there would be lots of money, and lots of guns. 

Fortunately my little Anya was more than a match for any hired muscle. Her innocent looks would provide enough distraction to give us an edge we didn't really need. We would take the money and leave behind a few dead bodies and enough evidence for the police to make a nice dent in both operations. 

We'd done this a hundred times, and it never got old. It was a great way to make a living. I had it all: money, sex and adventure. I was two hundred and seventy-five years old and my life was perfect. 

The Bonding Ch. 02



The Bonding 

Anya

By ten that morning Michael, my master, was $200,000 richer, and I had a spot of blood on my favorite shoes. I'm not allowed shoes often, and comfortable shoes are a special treat. 

Still things had gone amazingly well. The criminals we'd robbed, though apparently very important men, had only brought one bodyguard each, which made this the easiest job we'd done in some time.

Michael was so pleased that he took me to a park on the way home. He even bought me ice cream. I'd only had ice cream once before, but it was as delicious as I remembered.

He held my hand as we walked, which drew a few second looks because of the age difference, but no one called insults at us, or told us we had to leave. It seemed strange after living through slavery and segregation. Of course, I am still a slave, but no one that day knew it. It was... nice. 

Suddenly he pulled me to a stop near a tennis court where four teenage girls were playing. However, my master wasn't watching the girls, he was watching an old man in thick glasses sitting on a bench with a newspaper. The man was watching the girls, and occasionally rubbing his crotch behind his paper. 

"Go to him," he told me. "Sit next to him, don't speak. Put your hand inside his pants and stroke him til he cums. Lick it from your hand, and thank him politely. Then come back to me."

I have been a slave to a sexual sadist for over 200 years. I should have grown immune to humiliation. I have not. The bond I share with Michael ensures that I never will. Every humiliation, every pain is as sharp as the very first. I am the eternal innocent, the eternal virgin.

My hands were shaking when I sat on the bench. My heart was racing, and I could feel my face flush. I was trying very hard not to cry. The man stared at me as I scooted close to him. When I reached for his crotch he jumped, then quickly held the paper to block what I was doing as I unzipped his pants. 

I could feel Michael watching me, enjoying my shame. He knew how much I hated these random sexual acts with strangers. This is not what my life should have been. 

"I don't have any money, kid, if that's what you want," the old man said, his voice full of his need. 

I shrugged and slid my shaking hand into his pants. His cock was smallish, very hard and oozing pre-cum. I fought down a wave of nausea and felt Michael smile inside my mind. This was only mild amusement for him, but if I went to my knees, took the old man in my mouth, right here in front of these young girls... that would bring his passion to flame. 

The thought brought on another wave of nausea and deeper shame. To even think such a thing! But I knew what pleased my master, and pleasing him was life. Luckily his instructions had been specific, or I may have acted on my wicked thoughts. It will be shame, I have often thought, that kills me in the end. 

The old man never moved or tried to touch me, but he lasted much longer than I would have thought, given the circumstances. He grunted softly as he shot his load into my hand.

I licked the thick mess from my palm and fingers and said, "Thank you very much, sir."

"Oh god," he moaned. "Look kid, come back tomorrow. You can blow me in my car. I'll give you 50 bucks."

I shrugged and stood up. He grabbed my arm.

"How old are you, kid?" he asked.

"Sorry, I'm no kid." I freed my arm, and walked away.





Michael

I'm not sure why I had Anya jerk off the old man on the park bench. Maybe because she had seemed so happy and innocent moments before. Also, I find beauty in contrasts. Light and shadow, hope and despair. A young girl with an old man.

I have to admit I enjoyed watching her happy face crumble into shame. The fact that after all this time, I can still catch her off guard is just amazing. Her suffering is always so exquisite. It's the most precious thing in the world to me. 

I really do love her. As much as a man like me can love. When I found her I was a very bad man, quickly on my way to becoming a monster. I was 39 years old, which was far from young in those days, and a mercenary. I had killed more men than I could remember. I had tortured. But I had never raped. Until her. 

I had witnessed plenty of rape, had allowed it from my soldiers. But I had hopes of being a gentleman. I daydreamed of weeping women, but I held myself in check. It was my last claim to being a civilized man.

And then I saw her. I pulled her from her palanquin thinking to strip her of any jewels and leave her for the men. Instead I threw away all humanity and ravaged her like a beast. 

It wasn't just her beauty that captured me, though she was the most lovely creature I'd ever seen. It was the way her fear played across her features, enhancing every lovely line of her face. The way pain lit her eyes, and shame made her whole body tremble. It was as if she had been made just for me. 

And the bond made all of that forever. More, it let me FEEL her suffer.

I haven't hurt another woman since, or tortured another man. I have killed, though only the worst of men. I have Anya to hurt now. Now and forever.

"What did the old man say to you?" I asked as we drove from the park. 

"He asked me to come back tomorrow, sir," she answered, blushing prettily. "He... said he'd give me 50 dollars to blow him in his car."

I laughed. "Something to think about. Anyway I need you to begin packing my things. I've been in California too long. Our new I.D.'s can be ready in a day or so, and the house in Tennessee is all finished. I'm ready for a new life. I think I'll make you my wife this time."

"Wife?!" 

"Why not?" I laughed at her shock. "I've bought up a few small factories in the area. I'll be a big fish in a very small pond. A much too young trophy wife is just perfect." 



Anya

Wife. I was Michael's wife, at least in this time and place. We had never done anything like this in all our time together. At first, I had needed no cover. I was his slave. Later, I was a servant, occasionally a ward, often a nameless whore. I was seen by his friends for an hour or a day, as long as a week perhaps, and then I was secreted away again, to be enjoyed when he was alone.

I didn't know how to live a life in the open as a free person. To be seen, known by others as a WIFE. It sounded like a fairy tale. I now had a real closet filled with pretty new clothes, a cell phone, even a car! Of course all these things belonged to Michael, not me. But there were so many new things to experience. 

I had been a killer and a con artist for centuries, cars and cell phones I knew. But I'd never been inside a supermarket, never been to a hairdresser. I hadn't had a casual conversation with another woman in over a hundred years. I found myself exhilarated by all the possibilities.

The movers were still unloading Michael's things when the only close neighbors paid their customary visit. This was a very rural area, and theirs was the only other house within a mile. 

They were in their sixties, but still healthy and attractive as people that age can be in this century. The man, Bobby, was retired; his wife Grace still worked as a school teacher. They both seemed surprised when Michael introduced me as his wife. Grace was openly disapproving, her husband quite the opposite. In fact he stared at me with such obvious hunger that his wife had him heading out the door before I could even offer iced tea. 

Michael said something quietly to Bobby as he left, something his wife couldn't hear, something that brought a wolfish grin to his face. Then they were gone and Michael was pulling me into the kitchen, out of the way of the movers.

He pointed to the floor, and I knelt on the marble tiles, wearing my new pretty yellow dress, and locked my arms behind my back. Michael took his enormous cock from his trousers and fed it down my throat. As I serviced him, he told me his plans for our new life.

"I'm going to let that old man fuck you, you know. In fact, I'm going to hand you around to every dirty old man in this county." 

His cock was hard as steel now, and far enough down my throat that I couldn't breath. I choked on it, my throat convulsing around the impossible thickness of it, then I slowly pulled back to take a breath. My tongue danced over him and I sucked lovingly on that monstrous head before taking him into my throat again. He held my head down this time, forcing himself fully into me as I choked and fought to breath. 

"You're going to be the biggest slut in this town, Anya. Everywhere you go, you'll run into old men who have cum on your face, played with your tits, spanked your naughty little ass. Their wives will suspect what you are and spit on you in the street. Strangers will hear about you, and pull you into allies in broad daylight so that you can suck their cocks behind dumpsters."

He pulled his cock back to allow me to breath. I gulped in precious air, as I sobbed in horror at the picture Michael was painting in my mind. 

"No matter how many pretty dresses I let you wear, you will always be a slave, Anya. You are property, and everyone in this town is going to know that. You will let anyone touch you anywhere, in any manner they choose. You will display your body to anyone who asks to see it. You will perform any sexual act asked of you by anyone."

He began thrusting his cock in and out of my throat, fucking my face harder and faster as my horror at his words overwhelmed me. He had shared me with others in the past, many times, but not like this. Not publicly. Not so freely to any and everyone who might want me. I was supposed to be a protector, a fighter, not a common whore. Why call me his wife and then have me do these things? 

"You will keep your eyes lowered to everyone, unless told otherwise. You do not speak unless directed. Everyone you meet is better than you, remember that. You will be obedient and respectful, always."

His thrusts were getting more and more violent as the horror of my future fed his passion. The violence of his assault terrified me as it always did. He was very, very much larger than I. Rationally, I knew the that the bond would not allow him to kill me outright. But in these moments my rational mind was gone. There was the violence and the terror, his passion and joy at my fear, and the pure life his joy gave me. 

My sex was dripping with his passion, burning hot, swollen and ready for him. My body craved him despite the horror and fear and pain. He pushed me away finally and sprayed his seed on the tiles. I licked it up, moaning at the pleasure of his release, though my body still ached for its own.

I looked up at him as he caught his breath and put away his softening tool.

"Michael, please." I stopped. Tears burned my blushing cheeks. 

"Please, what, Anya?" He smiled down at me.

I swallowed hard. "Please touch me, Michael. Or... or let me touch myself? Please... I haven't cum in so long." 

It had been nearly a year since he'd allowed it. I woke him every morning by sucking his cock, and every morning he came before even rising from his bed.  And whenever Michael became aroused, my body readied itself for him instantly. No matter how much I hated the things he did to me, or had me do, as long as he was aroused, my body remained wet and throbbing.. He took his pleasure from me in every imaginable way, but he was a master at denying me any pleasure of my own. 

I hated begging him for this. It was worse than degrading.

He continued to smile a me for a moment. "I think not," he answered finally.

It was pointless, as I had known it would be. He never gave permission. Rarely, he would command me to cum while hurting me, or even more rarely while fucking me, but never if I asked. I bowed my head and sobbed. 

"Still, don't lose hope. You're going to be doing a lot of fucking in the near future. I'm sure if you're especially nice, one of the old men in town will let you play with your pussy for him. Maybe he'll even go down on you. Wouldn't that be nice? You have my permission to cum anytime some old fart is playing with you. Okay? Isn't that sweet of me?"

"Yes, Michael. Thank you," I whispered. 

But I knew unless he was present and enjoying himself, there would be nothing for me from anyone else. It was impossible for me to become aroused without my master's passion to feed me. I wasn't capable of hating Michael, but I hated the bond that linked me to him with every fiber of my being.

"Now how about making some lunch for the nice movers? But put on that new bikini before serving it to them. I have a meeting to attend. I'll be gone most of the afternoon. After lunch, go for a two mile run. Wear the bikini top and a tennis skirt. I've cut the hot water to the bathroom under the stairway, so you can shower there when you're done. Then start unpacking."

"Yes, Michael."



Michael

By the time I returned from my meeting in town, my new home was in some semblance of order. The movers had done most of the work, of course, but Anya was hard at work on my office. When you've been a criminal for over two centuries, you learn not to trust the movers with your personal stuff.

She went to her knees as soon as I entered the room, of course, and bowed her head. 

I ignored her for a moment. I left the door opened as I moved around the room, checking that my computer was set up properly, my books placed on the shelves the way I liked. It looked like she was down to the last box of books, and then there was the box that held my s&m paraphernalia. 

I'm not one to make use of a lot of toys. Punishment play is a bit silly with Anya. She is incapable of deliberate disobedience. Any inadvertent disobedience, such as ignoring an order to save my life or failure to perform some impossible task, is punished more severely by the magic of the bond than by anything I could possibly do to her. 

I do keep a willow switch on my nightstand, and as I said I enjoy costumes. But I reserved the ropes and chains, clamps and whips and paddles for public display. Many people enjoy such things, and that's fine. Myself, I prefer watching her strain to comply with an incredibly difficult command, and savoring the pain of the bond if she fails. Or I can simply elicit the magic by giving conflicting commands or demanding something impossible, like that she fly to the moon. 

During the first week of my possession of her, when I was still trying to understand the bond, I ordered her to kneel in a certain spot. Then I commanded her to try to move from that spot while making it plain I desired for her to remain there and not move at all.

I watched her scream for nearly 20 minutes before I rescinded the order to try to move. I've never let the magic punish her for that long again. I think it very nearly killed her. It was incredibly erotic, don't get me wrong, but I found the limits of my sadism that day. I still give her over to the pain quite often, but never for more than a few moments at a time.

I much prefer humiliation to pain, anyway. And Anya is so very easy to humiliate. She was raised from birth by eunuchs, and though they somehow seemed to have taught her a great deal about pleasing men, they managed to keep her naivety completely intact. Something of a minor miracle compared to the bond itself, but still impressive.

"You may stand." She stood but kept her eyes lowered. 

Bowing her head to me and kneeling to greet me when I came home, were not things I'd ever ordered her to do, by the way. I play a lot of little games with her, but her slavery isn't one of them. I own her, body and soul, and she knows that even better than I do. She has shown me proper respect from the very beginning. 

In fact I've had to order her to temper her demonstrations of submission at times. With the abolition of slavery, I had her begin calling me sir rather than master. Later I even had her refer to me by name, though she's never been one to abuse that privilege. 

I sat a my desk and booted up the computer. "Did you settle your things in the downstairs bathroom?"

"For the most part, yes sir. The wardrobe is in the basement laundry room, of course, as it wouldn't fit in the bathroom. The movers placed your new clothes for me in one of your bedroom closets, but I can move them to the basement if you'd prefer."

"No need. In fact, move the contents of the wardrobe to the bedroom closet as well. I'm not hiding you away this time, so I may as well have everything close to hand. But that can wait."

I turned the web cam to face her and began recording. There are hundreds of websites for older men to ogle teenage girls, and I'd found a couple that I thought would appreciate my little Anya. 

I smiled. "I thought I'd post a film on the internet to let the men in town know what a prize you are"

I turned to the camera.

"Hi, my name is Michael, and this is my lovely bride, Anya. I married Anya shortly after brutally raping her. Now she's completely submissive to me. Aren't you, baby?"

"Y..yes sir." Her shame shot through our bond like fireworks.

"Anya, tell the nice gentlemen watching how old you were when I raped you." As I spoke I began rifling through my box of paraphernalia. 

"I was 18, sir." Her voice was a mortified whisper.

"You'll have to speak up, sweetheart."

"Eighteen, sir," she squeaked.

"Were you a virgin when I raped you?"

"Yes sir."

"How long ago did I rape you, sweetheart?"

She hesitated before coming up with the right answer.

"About a month ago, sir."

It had been nearly a month since we'd played at rape. It's one of my favorite games. I command her to fight me as if she were a normal girl. She's not a wind up doll, and perfectly able to fill in the blanks to give me what I want in our little games. Fighting back during these games doesn't seem to trigger the full pain of the magic, I guess because it's clearly what I want, but it does make her somewhat nauseated for hours afterward. 

"How many times have you sucked my cock since I raped you, baby?" I asked stepping up to her holding what I had pulled from my box.

"I... I'm not sure." She began to tremble. She truly hated my toys for some reason.

"That's okay, sweetie, take a guess." I leaned down and took her left nipple in my mouth, biting it roughly. 

She cried out, and her trembling grew more pronounced. 

"I... I guess about 50 times," she sputtered as I chewed her flesh.

I straightened up and quickly snapped a vicious alligator clamp to her deliciously long nipple.

She gave a delightful scream and her eyes filled with tears. 

"That sounds about right. And how many times have you licked my cum from the floor?"

"M..maybe 20 times?"

"Now tell the nice gentlemen what you asked for after the last time you licked my cum off the floor." I took her right nipple between my fingers and began to pull and twist it. 

She was sobbing in earnest now, but she had no choice but to speak. "I asked you to... to let me cum, sir." 

"And did I allow it, baby?" I snapped a second clamp on her right nipple. She gave another beautiful scream for her future audience.

"No, sir."

"In the month since I raped you, how many times have I allowed you to cum?"

"None, sir." 

"How many times in the last month have I pissed in your face, sweetie?"

"Um... five times, I think."

"And the last time you had my piss burning your eyes and dripping from your chin, what did you ask?"

"I asked you if I could touch myself, sir."

"And did I give you permission?"

"No, sir."

I moved to zoom the camera in on her beautiful bare cunt. Even standing with her legs together you could seen the glistening wetness. I moved the angle back to show all of her. Didn't want the old geezers missing the look of desperate shame on her face. 

"Would you like it if I let you touch yourself now, sweetie?"




The Bonding Ch. 02



Her breath caught and I could swear her heart stopped beating for a second.

"I would like it very much, sir."

"If I let you touch yourself, will you promise to be a good little girl for all the nice men out there?"

"Yes sir, I promise!"

"If they meet you on the street, will show them your little titties?"

"Yes, sir." She was whimpering now, and the pleading look in her eyes had my cock raging.

"Will you let them suck on your little titties, and stick their fingers in your tight little pussy?"

"Yes, yes, please, I will. I promise I will!"

"Anya, pull your cunt open and show the nice men your little clitty."

I watched delighted as she opened her legs, bending her knees slightly and thrusting toward the camera. With both hands she opened herself wide.

"Sweetheart, you know touching your own little clitty makes you a naughty girl. Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Yes! Oh please, please, Michael."

"If you're going to be such a bad girl in front of all these nice gentlemen, I think they should be allowed to punish you, if they ever meet you. Doesn't that sound fair?"

"Yes, sir. I don't care. Are you really going to let me, Michael?" She looked at me with such naked hunger then that I almost came in my pants. "Do you really mean it?"

I moved close to her and kissed her cheek tenderly.

"I really mean it, baby. Hold your pussy open so the men can see, and squeeze your little clitty real hard for us, sweetie, but don't cum just yet, okay?" 

She did what I asked, and she looked amazing. She shuddered and the bond told me she was holding herself on the very edge of orgasm. 

"Pinch it harder, precious... good girl. Not yet, don't cum yet, baby. Twist it for me, Anya." She cried out and I knew I couldn't hold her there any longer. I slapped her hand away and snapped the third clamp in place. She screamed in pain and frustration as her legs gave out and she fell to her knees. 

Even through her agony I felt her almost tip over into orgasm. She was so very, very close. Then I felt it recede from her, fading behind a wall of pain and shame. She screamed her frustration again, and pounded her fists into the floor.

I squatted beside her and smoothed her hair from her face. I took her chin in my hand and tilted her face up to mine, kissing her lips softly.

"Do you love me, Anya?" I asked quietly.

The question seemed to startle her. "You know I do," she said.

"Tell me."

"I love you, Michael. Everything I am belongs to you. Do what you want to me, I will always love you."

"I love you too, baby," I said as if there could be any doubt after seeing her suffer that way. "Now stand up."

She stood, brushing tears from her cheeks. I thumped a nipple clamp and watched her flinch. I tugged sharply on the clit clamp and she cried out.

"Put your hands behind your head. That's my good girl." 

She seemed to be regaining a little control of herself so I took thin, three foot cane from my box and swung it hard across both her breasts. They bounced and jiggled nicely as a bright red stripe appeared just above her clamped nipples. She didn't scream, but she hissed in pain and squeezed her eyes shut.

I spent several minutes thoroughly caning her tits. Long before I was done she was crying hysterically, and only the command to be still kept her in place. Next I had her turn her back to the camera and grab her ankles. I spent several more minutes caning her ass and cunt, paying special attention to her brutally clamped clit. 

Truly the bond we shared was an amazing miracle. I could feel every blow to her body, though I didn't experience it as pain, exactly. It's more accurate, I suppose, to say I could feel HER feel it. I knew precisely how much pain each blow inflicted. I knew if a certain spot were especially tender or if a spot became the least bit desensitized. Dramatics were wasted between us. I knew when she screamed, it was real. Her tears were real. Her pleas were wretchedly heartfelt. 

"Please, Michael, no more. Please no more. Please, please, please, please...."

The other miracle of the bond was how it made everything feel so fresh and new. It felt as wonderful now as it had the very first time I had tortured her. I wish I could better describe just how exquisite the experience was for me. At any rate, my cock was truly aching by this point. 

I turned Anya back to face the camera, and bent her over the desk. I reached across and took the web cam in hand and got a nice close up of her beautifully caned pussy. 

"There's nothing quite like fucking a freshly caned cunt," I told the camera. "You really should try it for yourself some day." 

I balanced the camera on her back long enough to take out my cock and position it at her little slit. Then I took up the camera and got a nice close up view of my thick meat slowly forcing its way into her tight, tight little hole. 

She screamed, of course. She always does. I know I really am too big for her, but sometimes I just have to take what's mine. It was a great shot with the camera though, I have to admit. 

Finally I set the camera down on the desk began to fuck her in earnest. 

With other women I have to be careful not to hurt them. I go slow, let them get used to my size. When I fuck other women, it's for our mutual pleasure. I want them to enjoy it as much as I do. 

I have even done the same from time to time with Anya. Actually making love to her, with the bond we share is an unbelievably spiritual experience. But it doesn't equal the experience of ravaging her. Savagely fucking her, thrusting into her with every ounce of strength I have as she screams and screams... That's the experience I live for.

Her cunt is always blisteringly hot, and wet enough to drown in. But it's so tight, it's impossible to describe. I love that I can fuck her for what seems forever before she finally loosens enough to find her own pleasure. Usually the switch I keep by the bed is enough to keep her from cumming until I finish. 

Today though, she'd been riding the edge since morning. So I used the clamps, instead. Each time I sensed her getting at all close to experiencing her own passion, I ripped off a clamp and savored the pain coursing through her. That way I was able to ram in and out of her over and over. I savored each thrust, concentrating only on my own overwhelming pleasure, with no danger of her stealing joy from my experience. By the time I tore the clamp from her clit, I was ready to burst, and her fresh screams carried me over the edge. I shot my thick spunk deep inside her, collapsing on top of her, driving the air from her lungs. 

The camera had fallen over, and was on the point of falling off the desk. I reached over and turned it off.



The Bonding Ch. 03



Anya

A week after Michael recorded his little film, I awoke on the floor of his bedroom ready to start another day of small town life. I rose to my knees and climbed onto his bed, slipping silently under his covers to take his beautiful cock in my mouth. He had wanted to sleep in this morning, so my bladder was achingly full by the time he came awake. 

Each night, before crawling into his king-sized bed, Michael would point to the floor. A terse "Stay!" was enough to hold me there until time to wake him in the morning. No command would have held me there against an intruder in his home, nor against the least threat of harm to him. A previous order, even one as old as "wake me every morning with your mouth on my cock", was enough to allow me to rise from the floor. 

However the compulsion to obey was stronger than any physical need of my own. For this reason, I typically drank very little in the evenings. The days Michael asked to sleep in were always uncomfortable. I would have to see to all of his needs before being allowed to withdraw downstairs to see to mine. 

The first was his need to cum. He sensed my discomfort immediately, of course, and I could feel the slow smile spread across his face. The head of his member was in my mouth, stretching my jaws wide; my hands were busy stroking his long thick shaft. Despite all the times Michael had used his cock to hurt me, as much as I remained terrified of it, there was no denying its perfect beauty. 

"Slow down, baby," Michael purred. "No need to rush. Don't worry about making me cum, just enjoy my cock for awhile."

I moaned loudly over his cock then let him slide from my lips. I traced my fingers over the thick, ropy veins, savoring the velvety feel of his skin. I played with his large balls, rolling them gently in my small hands. I traced my tongue beneath his foreskin and probed and sucked at his urethra. 

It was times like these, lost in the pure sensation of Michael, that I could forget for a time that I was a slave. I was free to explore his beauty and power without the violence that was so much a part of him. I don't know how long he let me play, long enough for the pressure in my bladder to gain urgency, perhaps half an hour. 

Finally he reached down and pulled my hands from his cock. "Enough, baby," he said. "Climb up here. Fuck me."

I crawled up his body, knees to either side of his powerful hips. I lifted his cock, squatting on my toes in order to get enough height to position him at my swollen, wet sex. Slowly I began to work myself down over his substantial pole. Intercourse with Michael is always a challenge, but when he lets me control the pace, there is actually very little pain. Unless you count the panicked cries from my distended bladder.

When I was fully impaled, my cervix shoved far up into my abdomen by his steel rod, he ran one hand lightly over my lower belly and smiled. 

"Now show me how much you love to fuck me."

I did just that, rocking back and forth on that amazing cock, running my hands over his powerful chest and arms. I flicked my tongue over his nipples, sucking lightly on each one, before I sat up and began to really ride him. My tightly stretched cunt squeezed and sucked at his cock as I lifted my body up and brought it down over and over. He began to thrust up into me, meeting me stroke for stroke. 

This was the Michael that was the balance to his brutality. Though he never truly suppressed his cruelty with me, this was closer to the Michael that the other women in his life got to experience: powerful and a little dangerous, but a good man, and a generous lover. He caressed my breasts, gently pinching my nipples, running his hands over my arms and back. He pulled me down into a long kiss, before letting me raise up to fuck him faster, harder.

It wasn't long before I was riding the edge of orgasm. The rare indulgence of my own desires was overpowering me far too quickly. Michael realized this, of course.

"Enough! Stop," he ordered. I froze instantly. "Finish me with your mouth."

Not bothering to protest or beg, I slid off him and knelt on the big bed. I took him deep into my mouth, sucking hard, stroking him with one hand, cupping his large scrotum with the other. My body, so very, very close to getting what it craved, screamed in frustration as Michael shot his hot cum directly down my throat. 

Inside my mind I could feel his exploding pleasure as he groaned and held my face with both hands. The intensity of it took my breath, even as my body shook from being denied its own explosion. More than my pain, more than my degradation, Michael reveled in the contrast his own breathless ecstasy made against my quivering, whimpering frustration. Denying me release was, for Michael, like bathing in pure, bright joy. I fed on his joy, like a vampire feeds on blood.

Breathing deeply, he finally pushed himself up to sit on the edge of his bed. I scrambled to the floor and darted ahead of him into the master bath, to kneel beside his toilet. He followed behind, but shook his head as I moved to lift the lid.

"No, baby, in the tub," he said.

I shuddered, tears springing into my eyes for the first time that day. Michael smiled broadly. "That's my girl," he purred as I knelt in his enormous bathtub. He stepped up to the tub, and I took his softened cock in my hands, aiming it at my upturned face. Michael never handled his own penis while urinating unless we were apart.

I sobbed with shame and revulsion as the hot stream hit me directly between the eyes. The bond ensured that it was just exactly as humiliating and disgusting as it was the first time he'd done this to me over 200 years ago. This was my payment to him for the pleasure he'd allowed me a few moments before. I was very careful to keep the stream aimed directly at my face. 

When he was done, I licked him clean. He stepped back to smile down at me, my face and hair dripping with his piss. 

"Stay there on your knees until you're completely dry. Do not piss in my tub. When you're dry you can go downstairs. I'm going back to sleep for a bit."

"Michael, please!" I called desperately as he turned away. "I won't last that long, please!"

"I know," he grinned at me. " I expect your screams will be waking me up in a couple of hours. Do try to let me sleep as long as possible."

With that he turned off the lights, and shut me in the dark. My knees were already feeling the bite of kneeling in the ceramic tub, and the stink of urine burned my nose. I fought against a rising panic. I was under a direct command not to do something my body would eventually do no matter what I wanted. My long thick hair would take hours to dry. I felt as if my bladder would give way at any moment. When it did, the pain would come. The otherworldly pain was brought on by the bonding any time I failed my master. Every instant of that pain was an eternity in Hell. It was like nothing I could begin to describe. I squeezed my thighs together and savored the spasming pain in my belly. Every second of cramping pressure was another second I remained free of the pain of the magic. I bowed my head in the stinking darkness and cried.

Michael

I was dreaming of a young man named George Melton. In my dream it was 1812, and George and I were visiting the slave quarters on his father's Alabama cotton plantation. George was explaining the superior quality of "negro leather" for making boots while buggering the father of a young girl I was raping. Finishing with the girl's father, George approached with a large hunting knife, offering to demonstrate his technique on the girl under me. Blood sprayed and the girl began to scream.

I awoke, panting and sweating, desperately trying to wipe the dream blood from my face. My heart was pounding, and bile rose in my throat, even as I realized it had just been a dream. That had never happened. 

Her name had been Sarah, the girl in my dream. She had been sweet and kind, and a more than willing partner in our lovemaking. George had skinned her alive because I had refused his advances. She had been his sixth victim. Anya and I had heard the screams too late to save my sweet Sarah. Fitting, I suppose, that I of all men, should have my dreams haunted by the screams of a beautiful girl. 

Abruptly my nightmare clouded mind registered the fact that I still heard screaming. I stumbled from my bed to the adjoining bath. Anya lay on her side in my tub, muscles contorted obscenely. I realized I had no idea how long the magic had had her. 

"Anya, it's okay! You can stop hurting now. You're forgiven." Slowly I watched her muscles relax. Her screams faded to panting. She was lying in a puddle of her own piss, my piss crusted on her face. Her eyes were wide with pain and terror, and she stank. I felt my cock lurch in my pants.

Turning from Anya I took a towel from the cupboard and tossed it to her over my shoulder. Without looking at her I said, "Go downstairs and clean up. I'll be down for breakfast in an hour."

I left her and went to sit on the edge of my bed, my face in my hands. I remembered how Anya had killed George Melton without a single word or glance at me for approval. He was a rabid monster, she'd said, and had needed to be put down. I remembered thanking her.

I heard Anya step lightly from my bath and hurry past toward the hallway. I sat with my face in my hands, thinking about monsters and justice, and wondering when I'd finally get my due.

An hour later I entered the kitchen. I was wearing only my robe, since I'd sent Anya away before bathing and dressing me. She was naked, of course, freshly scrubbed and smelling of strawberry shampoo. As I seated myself at the small table, she set a cup of steaming coffee down so hard in front of me that half the cup sloshed onto the table. She turned her back brusquely and stomped back to the stove where bacon was sizzling in a pan.

Stunned, I stared from the spilled coffee to my slave's naked back, back to the coffee. After two hundred and thirty plus years I had seen Anya in practically every frame of mind. I had seen her happy, playful, passionate... sad, often; in pain, enraged... but Anya in a SNIT was remarkable enough to raise my eyebrows. To be honest, it was adorable, and just the thing to turn my mood around. Of course, it couldn't be allowed to continue.

Odd as it may sound, I had no idea what was bothering her. The bond told me she was angry and worried and her feelings were hurt. It did not tell me why. The obvious answer would be that I had tortured her; pissed in her face, left her in the dark for hours, fighting to avoid the inevitable, only to finally piss herself and lie screaming in agony while I took my own sweet time getting to her. For some reason I didn't think that was it, though.

When she dropped my breakfast plate on the table, making the food bounce and spilling more coffee, I stood and slapped her across the face. She caught herself just short of falling. She actually glared at me before dropping her eyes to the floor. But with the slap had come a spike of something through the bond. Had that been relief? Hope? How odd.

I slapped her again, much harder, and she went to her knees, pressing her face to the floor at my feet. There, behind the pain... definitely a sense of relief. She was still upset with me, and now there was fear too, but the worry was gone.

"I want an explanation, Anya." 

She sat back on her heels and glared up at me. Oh, yes, she was still angry.

"You are NOT a monster," she practically spat at me.

I took a step back and my jaw dropped. "Excuse me?" 

"Whatever you were on your way to becoming when we met, you are not a monster. You are not like LaLaurie or Himmler or George Melton or the dozens of other psychopaths we've encountered. You should not give in to your guilt."

"Is that what I'm doing?"

"Yes. I suffered for you. For you, Michael! And you turned your back on me. You fought back your arousal and wallowed in remorse instead. I will not have it!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You won't have it?" The words tasted strange in my mouth. "YOU won't...?" I slapped her face again. She smiled up at me.

"Better." 

I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. Then I shook my head, utterly confused. Never, not once, had Anya ever taunted me into hurting her. She was most assuredly not a masochist. She did love the effect her pain and humiliation had on ME, but that was only a result of the bonding. Wasn't it? Something told me our relationship was more complex than I'd ever realized.

"You are a good man, Michael. You rid the world of evil men and cripple criminal enterprises the police can't touch. You're generous to a fault. You're a sadist, but you hold yourself in check with everyone around you. But I am your outlet. With me there is no holding back. The shame does not scar me, the pain fades, and I heal. I am perfect for you."

"You hate the pain, I know you do. What is it you're asking from me, Anya?"

"I am asking you to take your pleasure, Michael! You deny me my pleasure, and I accept that as your right. But I will damn us both to hell before I let you deny me your pleasure as well. It is all I have!"

I groped behind me for my chair, and sat back down, hard. "Well," I said. "Huh." It made perfect sense, of course. Still. "Huh," I said again. She looked up at me, grimly patient. "Wipe up this mess and get me another coffee." 

As she obeyed, I collected my scattered thoughts. Nothing had changed, I decided. She'd said nothing that was new, precisely. Except that somewhere amid that tirade, I got the distinct impression that Anya actually LIKED me. What a very odd thing to discover after all this time.

She served the coffee, this time with her usual grace, and knelt again at my feet. I ate a piece of toast as she bowed her head. 

"Sweetheart," I said suddenly, "press your face to the floor and reach up and touch the ceiling."

She bowed low until her face kissed the floor and one arm shot out and upward. I watched as, unable to obey me, the magic took her. She screamed, and my cock hardened. I let her scream until her voice cracked. 

"Relax, baby," I said, and watched as the pain slowly faded from her. She was right, about everything. Her pain had my cock raging, but it would never scar her body or her mind. She was my perfect outlet. 

"Again, sweetie, stay bowed and touch the ceiling." I let my robe fall open and stroked my cock as she screamed her agony. My guilt was gone. For the moment, at least. I ate my breakfast and stroked my cock. I let her scream... for a long time.

 Anya

I knelt on the tile floor, consumed by agony for a thousand years. After the first hundred years, I forgot where I was. After two hundred years I forgot who the man moaning over me was. Another hundred years and I forgot who I was. But still the pain continued. Long centuries after I had forgotten any existence other than this agony I continued to pray for death. Finally there were no prayers, no thoughts at all... and still the agony went on and on. How many centuries did it take for the release from Hell to register on my shattered mind? Three, four? 

At last I was able to lift my face from the floor. Face... floor...my mind was relearning the meaning, the existence of words. I looked up to see Michael standing over me. Michael. Memories crashed home, of Michael, of the bond, of my SCOLDING him for denying his own pleasure. He was denying nothing now. He was awash in a pleasure so profound it very nearly transcended my millennium of torment. But it was not my pleasure, it was his. 

Now that my suffering was abated, I could feel the throbbing hunger of my sex. His arousal had me wet and ready to meet his need. He surprised me by squatting next to me and placing his hand over my cunt.

"Hump my hand like the little bitch in heat you are, girl," he growled. 

I cried out at his touch and frantically rubbed my swollen pussy against his hand.

"Now, cum for me, bitch." 

I shuddered as I exploded against his hand. I screamed out my release as I'd screamed my agony. A year it had been since he'd let me feel this. I think I blacked out for a moment. But Michael was still holding my cunt.

"Don't stop, bitch. Keep humping me, little puppy. I want you to cum again. Now!"

Again I screamed as I came. And I screamed as he roughly shoved three fingers inside me. 

"Again, bitch. Cum now!" He pumped his fingers in and out of me, as I came for the third time.

"You wanted me to take my pleasure, hmm, Anya? How about if I take yours instead?"

His thumb was pressing and rubbing my too sensitive clit, and his fingers fucked me as hard, if not as deeply, as his cock ever had. Suddenly it was too much and my body tried to pull away.

"Don't you fucking pull away from me, bitch!" he hissed. "I want you to cum again. Cum for me now, little puppy."

But it was too much, I was too sensitive to climax again so soon. Just as the magic took me, I saw our neighbor, Bobby, standing in the kitchen doorway. Then my body exploded with pain.

Michael

Just before the screaming began, I noticed Anya focusing on something just over my left shoulder. Nothing ominous or the pain would have stopped and allowed her to respond to the threat. I glanced back and saw Bobby Edwards standing behind me with his mouth opened in shock. 

"Help you?" I asked, grinning. "Relax," I muttered under my breath to Anya. She stopped screaming which seemed to relax my guest as well.

"I.." the old man cleared his throat. "I was just stopping by, and I heard screams. Wanted... wanted to make sure everyone was alright."

Well, that was a load of shit. Bobby had been the first person I had sent my video of Anya, so the man had to know what any screaming in this house likely meant. Still, no reason to call him on it.

"Just playing with the wife. Did you watch the recording I sent you?"

"Yeah," he said, actually stepping into the room. I realized I had been at least partially blocking his line of sight, so I moved to the side, giving him an unobstructed view of Anya's finger filled cunt. He smiled widely. "Nice pussy," he noted.

"I guess you saw," I said, "I finally broke down and let the whore cum."

"Saw that," Bobby nodded.

"She was getting so hung up on her own needs, she was losing focus. Maybe now she can properly pay attention to pleasing men, like a good cunt. Wanna give her a go, see how she behaves?"

Bobby's smile grew bigger. "To be honest, I was kinda hoping you'd offer. I got the impression you weren't exactly a selfish fella."

"Not in the least. There's a spare bedroom upstairs. Make yourself at home."

"Um... just one thing..."

"What is it?" I asked, though I had a pretty good idea what he wanted. 

"Is it all right with you if I, you know... rough her up a little?"

I pulled my hand out of Anya's cunt and stood. I grabbed her hair to keep her from scuttling away from us. 

"Be my guest. Just leave her in one piece when you're done."

"Yeah, yeah sure." He stepped over and grabbed his own handful of her hair. I let go and stood back. "Come on, sweet pea," he said to Anya. "Show me where this bedroom is and lets get started."



The Bonding Ch. 04



Michael

I went to my study and took a seat behind the desk. I took a remote from the top drawer and pressed a button. To my left a section of the wall slid aside to reveal a large HD display. Another button pressed turned on the screen, showing a grid with views from eight security cameras scattered around the property. Another button switched the outside surveillance to twenty-four interior cameras. 

Personally, I believed this kind of security was over the top for a small town businessman, but Anya had insisted. In matters of my personal safety, I almost always deferred to her. After all, in her mind, ensuring my well being was her primary duty. She took it very, very seriously. I, on the other hand, felt I was capable of protecting myself just fine, while her job was to service my cock. But, hey, as long as she could do both, who was I to complain?

I selected a camera with a view of the playroom I'd had Anya set up for her older fans. Selecting that view actually broke the screen into four sections, showing all the camera angles for that room.

The room was decorated in white and pink with a Wonderland theme. The wallpaper was all tiny pink hearts and white bunnies. The curtains were pink with white lace, the carpet was also a pale pink. On the walls were posters of Alice, the Mad Hatter, and the Queen of Hearts. On the bed was a stuffed Cheshire Cat. The bed itself was white with a sheer pink canopy and ruffled pink comforter. A child sized vanity and chair were in one corner, with an assortment of brushes and combs, hair ribbons and plastic barrettes. Anya thought the room was too much, but I'd had her copy everything from a decorating magazine. Maybe their designer was a closet pervert, but from the look on Bobby's face as Anya led him through the door, it was just right.

I slipped on a set of headphones in time to hear him ask, "Do you sleep in here?"

"Sometimes," she lied, as she stood naked in the middle of the room. "Sometimes Michael likes to play daddy games." Not a complete lie, but it wasn't my favorite thing, though I think it may have been Bobby's. 

"I'd love to be your daddy."

"Okay."

Bobby looked around the room again, then stepped over and opened the closet. 

"Holy shit!" 

I smiled. I didn't need a view of the closet to know what Bobby was gaping at. On one side hung several costumes, from an extremely skimpy cheerleader's outfit, to a ruffled dress appropriate for a very young girl, and several others ranging from sweet to whorish. The other side of the closet held the contents of my punishment box: an assortment of paddles, whips, clamps, and restraints, as well as several plugs, gags, and dildos. 

Bobby pulled an outfit from the closet and tossed it to Anya. "Put this on. And fix your hair." I smiled at his choice, and we both watched her transform from naked wife to teen whore. 

The shorts were denim cutoffs with pink rein stones. The waistband was low enough to show her panties, if she'd had any, and short enough to embarrass Daisy Duke. The t-shirt was pink with the word BABY in blue across the chest. The skin tight shirt just covered her nipples, but left bare the under swelling of her perky boobs. 

Anya sat at the little vanity and brushed out her tangled hair, pulling it into two long pigtails which she tied with pink ribbons. A touch of pink lip gloss, and when she stood and turned to face Bobby, she was the perfect little cock tease. 

She bowed her head, and shuffled her bare feet while sucking on one finger. Tilting her head to one side she glanced up at Bobby through lowered lashes. "Am I in trouble, Daddy?" she asked in the sweetest voice imaginable. 

Bobby just stared at her, his jaw hanging open, his eyes dazed. I knew how he felt. I could sense Anya's humiliation through the bond, but her face was the picture of a naughty little girl about to be in a world of trouble. 

The same acting skills that made her a perfect con artist, also made her perfect at these types of games. Put Anya in a costume, and she BECAME the character you wanted. After a time, even the emotions felt through the bond would take on more attributes of the role she was playing. I think becoming someone else for awhile, anyone else, was a refuge for Anya, a way of escaping her reality as a slave. 

After a moment in which Bobby continued to just stare at her, Anya took a step closer. She laid an hand lightly on his chest. "Please, Daddy, don't be mad. I promise to be good."

He took a step back, almost tripping over his own feet. It seemed to bring him around a little. "It," he cleared his throat and tried again. "It's too late. I mean look at you. You look like a whore." 

He reached out and gave a pull on the little shirt, causing her tits to bounce free. He rubbed a hand over her nipples, one then the other, bringing them to attention. 

"You let the boys at school play with these, don't you, whore?"

"No, Daddy!" she protested, trying to tug her top back into place. He slapped her hands away and began twisting and pulling at the her long nipples with both hands. Anya started to cry softly. 

"Liar!" he yelled in her face. "I'll bet you stroke their cocks while they play with your titties, don't you, whore?"

"No, Daddy, I swear!" 

"Sure you do. I'll bet you let them put their cocks in your mouth,too, don't you?!"

"No, Daddy. I'm a good girl, I swear!"

"Good girls don't dress like whores, baby." Bobby gave a vicious twist to both nipples bringing a loud squeal from Anya. "Or are you all tease and no touch? Is that it, baby? Are you a nasty little cock teaser?"

Bobby seemed to really be getting into this. Then again, who wouldn't? Anya was every dirty old man's hottest fantasy come to life.

Anya hung her head in shame. "I don't mean to tease, Daddy." 

"More lies!" Bobby sat on the edge of the bed and pointed to the closet. "Bring me your paddle, baby." 

There were actually four paddles in the closet, but even before she reached inside, I knew which one she would pick. And I was right. It was nearly two feet long, including the handle, four inches wide and a half inch thick. It was bright pink plastic with the words "BABY SPANKER" printed on both sides in bold black letters.

She handed him the paddle and stood with her arms crossed over her chest, blushing for all she was worth.

"Now, pull your shorts down to your knees, and lie across my lap." 

Anya pulled the tiny shorts down, pinning her knees together and draped herself over our neighbor's lap. With no warm up and no warning, Bobby began spanking her bare bottom. He had a good arm, and he gave it all he had.

I opened my robe and began stroking my cock in time with the loud slaps of the plastic paddle. 

Anya squealed and shrieked and kicked. She wiggled and sobbed. This was nothing compared to the pain of the magic, of course, but it was sharp and degrading, and it went on and on and on. 

I was beginning to fear the old guy would give himself a heart attack, when he finally tossed the paddle aside, breathing heavily. Anya's backside, normally a light mocha, was bright red from the top of her ass to the backs of her knees.

He pushed her off his lap and she stood in front of him, rubbing her burning bottom with one hand and using the other to cover her exposed pussy. He slapped her hand away and shoved his hand between her clinched thighs. 

"No, Daddy!" she cried grabbing his wrists with both her hands. I sat up straighter. I had seen Anya break more than one man's arm using that exact grip. Of course she knew I was watching, and she felt my sudden tension through the bond. I could almost feel her roll her eyes at me, though her expression on the monitor didn't change. 

Bobby stood and slapped her face with his other hand and she dropped her grip on his wrist. I relaxed in my chair, and resumed slowly stroking my semi hard cock. 

"It's time you learn what happens to little girls who tease, baby," Bobby said, pushing Anya down onto the bed. He ripped her shorts off her legs, making her squeal again, and jerked her legs apart. "It's time you get what's coming to you, baby."

I had thought this was going to play out as rape, but when Bobby took his hands away to unbutton his pants, Anya surprised us both. She drew her knees up to her chest, then spread them wide. Bare pussy completely exposed, she looked up at the old man and smiled mischievously. One hand moved between her legs. The other hand she brought to her mouth, and began sucking her thumb as she played with her pussy.

I felt my cock lurch to full life. On the screen, the old man froze with his pants halfway down his legs, his cock standing out from a patch of wiry white hair. 

Anya pulled her thumb from her mouth long enough to say, "Aren't you going to fuck your baby girl, Daddy?"

Bobby gave a guttural roar and fell on her like a crazed animal, his pants still bunched around his ankles. Anya squealed and giggled. Then the old man's cock was buried to the hilt in her little cunt. 

"Holy fuck, that's tight!" he groaned as he pulled back and shoved into her again. "Oh goddam, baby! So fucking tight!"

Through the bond I could feel Anya's fuckhole being invaded as Bobby grunted and thrust on top of her. She held on to her playful little teen persona, but I could feel her shame spiking with every thrust of that old cock. How she could function through that level of mortification was a wonder to me. 

"Oh Daddy! Oh Daddy!" She cried out over and over. "Fuck me Daddy, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"

As the old man began to pound her faster and faster, Anya stared into the camera over his shoulder. "Cum for me, Daddy!" she screamed directly to the camera... to me. She could feel me jerking off, just as I could feel her being fucked. I matched Bobby's rhythm perfectly.

At the same moment we shot our loads. Bobby shot his cum into Anya's little cunt. Later I'd have her lick mine from the floor of my study. Seconds behind us, Anya cried out with her own climax, "I'm coming for you, Daddy!!" But her eyes were fixed on the camera. 

Ignoring the man whose cock was still buried inside her, Anya seemed to be trying to temper some of her devastating shame by playing to me. Well, let her try to pass this off as a slave's duty. We both knew she'd found her pleasure on a child's bed beneath a sweating old man. And we both knew this wouldn't be the last time. 

Anya

Luckily the old man was done with me quickly. I showed him to the door, suffering through a final groping. Kissing me good-bye, he shoved his tongue so far into my mouth I thought I would vomit. He shook Michael's hand, and they spoke quietly as I turned away, eager to wash the feel of him off of me... out of me. 

"Anya, go to my study now, and wait for me," Michael ordered without bothering to look at me.

Too tired to answer, I walked silently to his study, ready for this day to be over. The antique desk clock claimed it was just 3pm, but that couldn't be right. My body was shaking with exhaustion, and I was starving. 

While it's true the pain of the magic fades quickly, it takes an incredible toll. Even a short burst will leave me weak and hungry, not to mention emotionally devastated for hours. I'd been subjected to two very extensive sessions today. I'd also been pissed on and spent over two hours kneeling in that damned tub. I'd cum three times kneeling on the kitchen floor after being denied any release for almost a year. 

My body felt as if it'd been starved and tortured for weeks without rest. My mind was a jittery tangle of horror, shame, and sexual overload. I was flinching at shadows, and trying to not to crawl out of my skin. 

I was struggling desperately not to even think of what had just happened upstairs. 

When Michael came into the room, I knelt and pressed my face to the floor. Displays of extreme subservience often had a relaxing effect on Michael, and at this point, I would try anything to avoid further abuse. In truth, I just wanted to turn my head, rest my cheek on the cool wood floor, and sleep right there until morning. 

"You can't rest yet, pet," he said with a smile in his voice. No, he couldn't read my mind, but he knew exactly how wasted I was. "Lick this mess off the floor, while I edit footage from your little play date."

I crawled to the smear of dried cum beside his chair as he sat at his desk. My mouth was so dry that it was like brushing at a stain with a broom, and no matter how I tried, I couldn't seem to work up any moisture. The humiliation was a physical pain in my chest. And then I felt the brush of the magic in my mind. I was failing to obey a direct order. I knew I couldn't go through that again. Not now. I licked frantically at the floor, panic shattering what was left of conscious thought. 

"Michael!!" I screamed for help.

"Relax," he said calmly, stroking my hair. 

I heaved a sigh of relief. Michael took a handful of my hair, and pulled my head back. 

"Stick out your tongue," he ordered.

I obeyed, of course. He spat twice on my tongue, then let go of me. "Now hurry up," he said. "I want to show you something."

The wash of gratitude I felt for his aid sparked a rising tide of rage. It seemed I had reached my limit for shame today. When it becomes impossible to feel any more degraded, the mind either accepts or rebels. 

I had always accepted a certain measure of humility as natural. I was a slave. I was not the equal of my master. But there was nothing natural about the depravities that the bonding forced on me. Michael had spilled his seed on the floor while watching me... do what I had done with that horrid old man. He had not only enjoyed my debasement, he had wallowed in it. Now he had SPIT IN MY MOUTH so that I could lick his seed from the floor! And for a moment, I had been grateful!

I could not endure this any longer. I would not! Even as my tongue worked obediently to clean the stain at his feet, my mind rebelled. Despite the rage, I could still not see Michael as my enemy. But the bond was. It was the bond that allowed him to experience my humiliation in such an intimate way. It was the bond that compelled my obedience to his most disgusting commands. It was the bond that would tie me to a sadist forever. 

I knew the only way to be free of the bond was for Michael to die. True, I would most likely die as well, but it was not a certainty. And what did it really matter? There would be no more pain, no more shame. I could kill him in a half dozen ways without ever rising from my knees. It would be so easy to shove my fist into....

My eyes widened in sudden realization of my own thoughts. The purpose of the bond was to protect and please the Master. To protect was paramount. To consider doing harm to the master of the bond...

"You can't win, Anya," he said quietly. "You will never be free."

I could barely hear his next words over my own screaming. "It's a good thing I'm not a monster."

Michael

I didn't think she'd ever stop screaming. I could do nothing to help her. She had obviously invoked the magic by thinking of killing me. It wasn't the first time. It wasn't even the first time this year. Supposedly, this magical bond was created to protect some ancient Indian royal bloodline. That I had stolen the magic by raping its agent didn't seem to change anything. The magic would protect me whether I wanted it to or not, and from whatever source, even if that source was its own instrument. And its instrument had a bit of a temper when pressed too far.

In the past stopping the pain had been a matter of Anya convincing herself that she had no desire to kill me after all. It had never taken her more that a moment to realize that my continued existence wasn't really such a bad thing. As the screaming went on and on, however, I began to worry. Either Anya wanted me dead so badly she couldn't lie to herself about it any longer, or her mind was simply too exhausted to form coherent thoughts. 

I hoped for the latter. If Anya truly, irrevocably wanted me dead, I had no doubt one of us would soon die. I didn't believe this was the case, however. Only a few hours ago, she'd been hell bent on convincing me that I wasn't such a bad guy. I don't suppose it made sense that I believed Anya considered me a good man, a man worth protecting, when all reason and evidence would indicate otherwise. But I didn't believe she really hated me. 

I did believe she hated herself. At the moment anyway. That was the root of the issue, of course. I don't put a lot of stock in modern psychology, but you can't spend two hundred and thirty years sharing a person's sensations and emotions without also getting a really good idea of how they think. Anya hated herself for actually having a bit of fun with the old man. It was painful and degrading, but it was supposed to be. She'd sunk herself so far into her role of teen whore that she'd gotten off on being used like a little slut. 

The problem was, she wasn't very good at being a slut. At the core of her, Anya was the proud agent of a powerful and ancient magic. And when the games were over she was faced with all the naughty things she'd done. 

The problem wasn't that I had gone too far in degrading her. The problem was that, for just a moment, she had let herself enjoy it. 

What would happen if she were too far gone in her pain and exhaustion to figure this out? I was afraid the magic might very well kill her. 

Of course, thinking this didn't keep my cock from getting rock hard. She was being punished for wanting to hurt me... even in my worry, how could I not enjoy that?

After she'd been screaming for a good 5 minutes or more, I began rubbing my cock over her face and tits. I shoved my cock down her throat several times, but as soon as I'd pull back, she'd scream again. Finally I just began fucking her face like a cunt. This went on for another 5 minutes. I pounded away at her throat, knowing it was her own wicked thoughts that were punishing her. 

Eventually, she passed out. As soon as she did, her muscles relaxed and she fell to her side. I finished by jerking off on her face. Relieved that she would be alright, I went back to work on my editing. 

Anya

I woke on the floor of Michael's study weak and hungry. My head was aching from dehydration, and my right eye seemed to be glued shut. I managed to hoist myself to my knees. I wiped an unsteady hand across my face and realized I was covered in a copious amount of dried and drying semen. Apparently, Michael had entertained himself several times while I was unconscious.

The clock on the desk read 10 o'clock, and by the bright sunlight streaming through the window, I gathered I'd been out for about nineteen hours. On the desk was a serving tray. On the tray was a plate with two turkey sandwiches, apple slices and Oreo cookies, a pitcher of water and a large glass of milk. 

I drank water directly from the pitcher, then downed about half the milk before tearing into the food. 

I was still on my knees, shoving the last cookie in my mouth when Michael walked in. 

"About fucking time," he said as he stepped around me to seat himself at his computer. "We need to make another video as soon as you've cleaned up."

I wanted to protest, but didn't waste the breath. I was completely rested and healed, and he knew it. A few... well a lot of extra calories over the next day or two was all I really needed now. I stood and took the tray.

"Yeah, the video with the old man has had thousands of hits already. The one with me has had even more." 

The tray dropped back to the desk with a loud clatter. He couldn't have...

"Michael, what did you do? How did a personal web page get that many hits in one day?"

"What do you mean personal web page?" He could since my alarm through the bond, but he seemed to attribute it to humiliation.




The Bonding Ch. 04



"You said the recordings were to show the men in town. I thought... I assumed you were giving them the address to a private web site."

"No. I posted the videos on an established porn site."

"We have to move, Michael, as soon as possible." It had been just over a week since he'd posted the first video. A week with me blindly thinking nothing had changed. Nearly a day of that I'd spent unconscious, helpless on the floor.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he demanded. 

I ignored him and grabbed the remote for the surveillance feeds. I took several moments scanning live footage from the property as well as inside the house. Everything seemed quiet. I dropped the remote on the desk and turned to the door. 

"I need to check the doors and windows, and make sure the alarms are set. Then we need to start packing. As soon as I've showered, I'll see about arranging storage for what we can't take, but honestly, we may have to just abandon a lot of your things. Sorry."

Michael was out of his chair, and he grabbed my arm before I'd finished talking.

"Anya! Explain, now." 

The danger wasn't immediate enough to ignore a direct command, though I certainly wanted to. I also wanted to shake him until his brains rattled and ask him how he could be so STUPID. I took a deep breath instead. To be fair, Michael was far from stupid. It was just that 30 plus years of global internet use couldn't quite erase 200 years of expectation and experience. 

Until very recently, in Michael's view at least, it was possible to get the correct paperwork, move a thousand miles away and never have to think twice about being discovered. I could pose nude for a photographer in Florida, and unless he became incredibly famous, Michael's new friends in Ohio would never know about it. Crossing a national border only made us that much more anonymous. 

What Michael couldn't seem to grasp was how much the internet had changed all that. Especially since he tended to view each move as the beginning of a new life. Michael was very much a man who lived in the present, and now his blindness might get him killed.

"Michael," I began, trying not to sound like I was lecturing an idiot. "Less than a month ago, we robbed and killed an international sex trafficker." 

"I remember," he glowered.

"We first got to Dean through his supply line of young girls for bondage porn."

"Yes, yes, but he's dead, half his underlings are in jail by now, and we're still siphoning money from his offshore accounts."

All true. We'd spent ten months working our way up to the boss using methods not typically used by police agencies. The $200,000 we'd scored the day we'd killed the man was just a sweet little severance bonus. The real money was in the secrets in his head, including information on multiple international bank accounts. It was amazing how little secrets were worth when staring into the eyes of death. But none of that mattered now.

"Dean's baby brother ran the web porn side of the business. He's very much alive, and whether he's in prison or not, all it will take is one of his perverted flunkies seeing that video of us. They can trace the poster's I.P. Address straight here."

Michael thought this over for a minute. Finally he shook his head. 

"There are hundreds of those websites. And even if someone recognized us, they really have no reason to think we killed Dean. I'm sure we weren't the only ones to take off after the bodies were found. Dean's people are going to blame Zapata and vise versa. It's the whole reason we killed them together."

"Yes, but..."

"No. If it'll make you feel better, I'll pull the videos and set up a private website. But I'm not moving. You've got your security toys and I have you. We're perfectly safe if any muscle does come sniffing around. I've got three more geezers in town wanting to fuck you already, and I don't intend to disappoint them. In fact, you have a date tonight."

"Michael, I really think..."

"Enough, Anya! Go get cleaned up. Have a snack if you need it, then get back here. I'm sick of jacking off, and we have a video to make."

My body moved instantly to obey, but my mind was screaming that this was a mistake. Those recordings were going to cause trouble. I knew it. In the end I was right, of course. But I wonder... if I had known the form that trouble would take, would I have really tried to stop it?

Michael

It was noon on a bright and sunny Sunday. I was sitting at my computer with the most beautiful girl in the world kneeling under my desk sucking on my balls. I had a choke collar around her neck which I was using to severely limit her air supply.

The new website was coming along beautifully, but I was annoyed and getting restless. I was annoyed that I was wasting time designing a website when I should have been making a movie of Anya suffering some brutal and degrading act at my hands. Mostly I was annoyed that she'd been right. Posting anything with our images on a public website was a serious lapse in judgment. Posting porn so recently after taking down a sex organization was embarrassingly idiotic. 

Finally I gave up and sent Anya to the basement to work out while I went for a run. In the early days I often watched Anya train, even had her teach me a few moves, but I quickly gave up the practice. Knowing that this 100 lb little girl could kill me without blinking if she were only free, could be an incredible turn on, especially when I had her doing something really degrading. But actually seeing her in action was less erotic. In fact, it could be... scarey. 

A mile into my run, I noticed a young man sitting in a pick up truck on the side of the road, apparently studying a map. Any other time, I would have thought nothing of it, but as I said, I was on edge. I started towards him at a slow jog, thinking to offer directions, but he put the truck in gear and pulled away before I reached him. I thought he looked middle-eastern or Indian maybe, but I couldn't be sure. 

By the time I finished my run I had forgotten all about the young man in the truck. The next time I saw him, it was too late.

Anya

My date that night was a man Michael introduced as Mr Collins. He was in his mid-seventies, a farmer whose sons had long taken over the real work. He and Michael had discussed our date beforehand. Mr Collins knew what he wanted, and it wasn't a daughter. 

When he arrived just before dark, I was naked and leashed to a tree in the back yard. This was the first time I'd been leashed outside since we'd left California. There Michael had often chained me by a collar to a stake while he entertained another woman in the house. It was a cool evening, and I was shivering.

In addition to the collar and leash, I was wearing leather mittens on my hands, knee pads, an ass plug with a furry tail, and a muzzle. The muzzle looked much like a dog's device, but was fitted with an o-ring that had my jaws stretched painfully open. By the time the old man bent down to pet me and scratch behind my ears, I had a long stand of drool hanging from my mouth.

Mr Collins untied my leash and Michael had me demonstrate some tricks for him. I sat up, begged, rolled over and played dead, as both men laughed and applauded. Then I knelt between them on the patio while they had drinks. The old man constantly played with my "tail" and chatted with my "husband". Michael told him about "putting the puppy outside" any time he had a "hot date back home." 

After about an hour of this, they finally got down to business. The old man fed me his cock through my muzzle while using my collar to "control" me. Michael watched from a foot away. 

"Bitch has two more holes, Mike," he said after a few minutes of grunting and humping into my face. "You might as well use one."

"I believe I'll do that," Michael smiled. He tossed a cushion onto the ground and knelt behind me. He flipped my tail onto my back, but left the plug in place. I began to make panic noises around the old man's cock. 

"I think she's begging for you, Mike," he laughed.

"She usually does," Michael said. He shoved his cock into my wet and throbbing sex and I screamed. It sounded embarrassingly like a howl. 

"Jesus, don't rip her apart," the old man protested. "A tool like that, you ain't gonna leave me nothing to work with down there."

"You said you only wanted her mouth and ass anyway," Michael replied. 

"Yeah, yeah. But I was hopin' we'd give her a little double action, ya know. But seein' the size of that monster you're sportin' that's probably not a good idea." 

"Oh she can take it," Michael laughed as I screamed again.

"I dunno..." he said doubtfully.

"Look, I'll prove it." 

Michael pulled out of me and dragged me over to a lounge chair. He lay on the chair.

"Up girl," he said sharply, snapping his fingers.

I could feel my face blushing as I took Michael's cock inside me again. I lay against his chest and looked up at Mr Collins. I gave a bark though my muzzle and wiggled my tail. 

"Damn eager bitch," he muttered. He jerked the plug from my ass, bringing another howl from me. He tossed it aside and straddled the lawn chair. He began working his cock, still wet with my drool, into my tight bottom.

Though no match for Michael's size, his cock was far from small, and quite thick. I was sure they really were going to rip me apart. I was past full, past pain, past terror. But oh gods forgive me, it felt amazing. 

And then Michael began to move. He thrust his enormous monster in and out of my cunt, and the old man growled and buried his cock in my ass. Then they were moving together, and I was sure I was going to die. But I didn't care. I was their bitch, and I was in heat. 

Too soon the old man pulled out, and Michael lifted me off of him. I howled my protest, but it did no good. I knelt on the ground, rubbing at my horribly empty cunt with a leather mitten, as both men came on my face. The leather was slick and there wasn't enough friction. I whimpered and moaned, cum dripping from my face as they laughed breathlessly. 

"Try this bitch," the old man said, finally. He tossed the tail to the ground in front of me. Just picking it up with the mittens was difficult. I eventually managed to position the plug against my clit. Michael was laughing uproariously at my efforts, but the old man was stroking his cock. 

Just as I started to rock my hips, rubbing myself against the plug, the old man stepped up and shoved his cock in my mouth. I gagged and retched, dropping the plug, but he just fucked my face until he came down my throat. 

He wiped his cock in my hair and pulled up his pants. 

"Me and some fellas are meetin at Corey's Place tomorrow to watch the game. You should come by, Mike. Bring the cunt if you'd like, but you're welcome either way."

"Thank you, sir," Michael said shaking his hand. "I just might do that."

I was still trying to get the plug in position to fuck myself with it when Michael kicked it away. 

"Bad girl," he smirked. "Your date's over, so none of that now." 

He pulled me back into the yard and tied my chain back to the tree before showing Mr Collins to his car.



The Bonding Ch. 05



Michael

If I'd known how this day was going to end, I would have stayed in bed. But ignorance, as they say... In any case, I awoke to Anya's sweet mouth on my cock. After shooting my morning lust over her beautiful face, I crawled out of bed as if this were just any ordinary day. 

She held my cock as I pissed. She bathed me, shaved me, dressed me, then disappeared downstairs to make my breakfast. We worked through the morning, Anya on housework while I made business calls. 

In the afternoon, Anya dressed as an Egyptian princess for me. She fought and begged for mercy while I, as a Roman soldier, brutally raped her. It was incredibly violent and satisfying. After the rape, I changed roles and became the pharaoh who, shamed by his only daughter, savagely beat and raped her again in front of his entire court. It was a fun afternoon, if a bit cliché.

That evening we went into town to watch football at Corey's Bar. I was dressed casually in jeans, t shirt and a light jacket. 

Anya was dressed in a wispy lavender dress that ended just below her cunt lips. The slightest breeze would expose her matching sheer thong. Her feet were strapped in six inch lavender heels. Her long black hair sported streaks of lavender color. Her lips were painted lavender and her eyes were dusted with lavender glitter. She wore no bra, and the cold night air caused the thin dress to hang off her long nipples like pegs. 

We entered the bar ten minutes before kickoff. I took a seat at a corner table, and Anya stood to the left of my chair. Several men had noticed us, and I nodded a greeting to those I knew while my hand very obviously caressed Anya's ass beneath her dress. She was there to be displayed and properly kept her eyes lowered and her hands passively at her sides. 

I ordered a beer from a scowling waitress. At the bar a group of men, including Mr Collins and my neighbor Bobby were talking quietly and stealing glances at our table. Bobby was the one to approach.

"Hey, Mike," he said as he walked up.

"Bobby," I smiled. "How's it going?"

"Can't complain. Collins said you might be coming by tonight. He thought maybe you brought your wife along as... that's to say... We were wondering if you might be in a sharing frame of mind tonight."

"I don't know, Bob. This is a pretty public place and you're a married man. So are several of your friends, if I'm not mistaken. I'd hate to get you gentlemen in trouble at home."

"Well, there's a sort of VIP room in the back. Got some couches and a wide screen TV and everything. Just perfect for a private party. Collins has it all paid for, if you and the wife are interested in joining us."

I grinned. "That sounds like fun. Lead the way."

I stood and took Anya's hand. We followed Bobby through a door at the back of the bar. It was just as he'd said, three sofas and 4 stuffed chairs facing a large television, as well as several small tables that held pitchers of beer and bowls of chips.  

I took a seat in one of the chairs and Anya knelt beside me. I played with her nipples through the thin material of the dress while several men from the bar filed in and took their seats around the room. There was a lot of talking and joking, and several men thanked me for bringing the "halftime show." 

During the first commercial after the kickoff, Collins gave a little whistle and called out, "Hey puppy, come here, girl." Everyone laughed as Anya turned a pretty shade of deep rose and dropped to all fours. She crawled across the room to the old man who reached down to pat her on the head.

Suddenly he grabbed handfuls of her hair and pulled her face into his lap. "You be a good little bitch now," he said with a smile for his watching buddies. 

Anya unfastened the old guy's fly and took out his flaccid dick. As she sucked it into her mouth he gave a low groan and then turn his attention back to the game. After that he completely ignored the girl servicing him. He drank beer, watched the game and chatted with the rest of us. 

This went on for a good 10 or 15 minutes. Finally the man seated beside him on one of the sofas, Phil I think was his name, spoke up. Phil was in his early 70's, bald as an egg, and sporting the biggest ears I'd ever seen on a human being. 

"Think you might finish there sometime tonight, buddy? If you can't seal the deal, pass her along, already."

"Take her, then. I'm savin up to shoot in that ass, later." 

Phil pulled Anya over between his knees by her hair. He took out his cock, and roughly shoved her face down onto him. I could hear her choking over the sound of the TV. 

"You always were an ass man," Phil laughed as he held Anya's face hard against his pubes, his cock choking her as she (apparently) struggled to pull back enough to breath. "Me, I'll take raping a little girl's throat any day."

I grinned. "I couldn't agree more," I said.

This sparked an extended debate on the merits of ass versus mouth. Of the seven men in the room, it came down to three and three with one guy, Harry, claiming he was all about pussy. Harry was in his early sixties, too skinny, but he still had all his hair. 

"I mean it," Harry argued as Phil was shoving his cock in and out of Anya's face. Phil was being quite rough with her, and she was gagging and choking constantly. 

"Sure Mike's wife seems to take a throat reaming pretty good, but most girls can't. Get too rough and you have to start worrying about teeth. Besides, I'll bet none of you guys have ever really slapped a girl around while you fucked her. I have. Can't do that very well with your cock in her face."

About that time Phil grunted and heaved his hips up as he pulled Anya down tight. He shot his load down her throat and shoved her away. She landed hard on her butt in the middle of the room. The men laughed.

She sat there a minute looking stunned. Her hair and make up were a mess. Tears streaked her face. She turned to me with a pleading expression. I smiled and stood, moving over to her. I grabbed her hair and stepped to the one empty sofa. Anya scurried on hands and knees to keep from having her hair pulled out. I pointed and she quickly scrambled up to lie on her back. 

"Alright, Harry," I said as I jerked her panties, tearing them off her. "Show us what you mean."

The skinny old man was breathing hard and staring at Anya's exposed little cunt. "Okay. But she's your wife, man, I don't wanna mess up her face or anything."

"Try not to break any bones, but don't stress about it. There's more where she came from. Tonight's about us men having fun any way we want. Right guys?" I said. After all, these were all old men. I doubted they'd do any serious damage, and if they did, Anya would heal. Of course, we could also stop things any time I wanted. 

"I think I can handle that," Harry grinned. 

At that point, I was more amused that aroused, so he had to spit on her cunt a few times to get it nice and wet. He positioned himself between her spread legs, his left hand around her throat, his right guiding his 7 inch cock into her hole. As he buried himself inside my girl, he slapped her across the face. 

He didn't hit as hard as I did, not even as hard as I suspected he could. He seemed to be aiming to degrade more than hurt, though it certainly did hurt her. He thrust into her cunt a couple more times, then backhanded her with his right hand, his left tightening around her throat. 

Anya began to "struggle". She squirmed beneath the old man, and tugged ineffectually at his hand on her throat. It only made Harry fuck her harder. He started slapping her.. palm, backhand... palm, backhand... with each thrust of his cock. 

Anya was sobbing and struggling for breath. "Michael!" she gasped hoarsely, "please, please."

"Anya, play nice," I chided. Several men laughed. Actually this WAS nice. She'd been told that I wanted her obedient, but not necessarily willing. I admit, I enjoyed showing off my control.

Anya gave a pathetic whimper and stopped fighting the old hand choking her. Rather than squirming, she began to thrust with Harry. She wrapped her legs around his skinny butt and fucked him back, still sobbing beautifully.

Not many girls manage to look pretty crying. As much as I love to see a girl cry, it does tend to make the skin blotchy, the eyes swollen and red, the nose runny. But Anya was as beautiful crying or screaming as she was laughing. Her skin glowed a dark rose color, and her large black eyes poured tears like the Milky Way strewn across a desert sky. 

"Does she do everything you say?" Pete, a man I hadn't met until tonight, asked.

"She tries," I answered truthfully.

"Why?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"Because if she doesn't, she gets hurt." I replied.

"Hurt worse than that?" he asked nodding to where Harry was still slapping and choking her.

"Oh, yeah."

"Does she want this, do you think?"

"Probably not, but I'm not sure," I shrugged. 

Strangely enough, this was true. Emotions are a tangled mess most of the time, whether our own or otherwise. Even paying close attention to Anya's emotions at that moment, I couldn't say if she were enjoying herself at all or if this were utter torment for her. 

I knew she was deeply, deeply ashamed. She was angry and disgusted. She was worried, probably still concerned about the younger Dean coming after us for killing his big brother. She was (very) distantly amused by Phil's elephantine ears. And yes, she feared the pain should she displease. Overriding everything though was a kind of white humming feeling that I associated with sexual arousal. 

But that wasn't the whole story. Not even half. There were also her physical sensations. She was in pain, of course. Her face hurt, her throat burned terribly, and her pussy, already bruised from our rape play this afternoon, was being slammed quite brutally. She was thirsty and slightly hungry. And too, there were the physical aspects of her sexual arousal... the throbbing, wet heat in her swollen cunt, the aching in her nipples.

To add to the complexity, she was also responding constantly to my emotions and physical reactions. My sexual arousal increased her own, yes, but there was more. As always in sexual situations, I sensed from her a kind of crazed desperation that would only grow until I found release. It was the bonding, ensuring that my pleasure would always be paramount.

I doubted if even Anya knew whether she wanted any part of this or not. 

"I wonder how long a sweet little thing like that would hang around if she could just say no," Pete smiled.

I grimaced. "I honestly wish I knew." 

I know, I know. On a day steeped in cliches I should have been more careful.

Anya

After the skinny little man finished with me, another decided to demonstrate that it was also possible to beat a woman's face while fucking her ass. After that things went downhill fast. 

The rest of the party was a blur. Several times I had more than one cock in me at a time, sometimes three at a time. At least once I had two in my pussy at the same time. I sucked and fucked every cock there except Michael's. I was choked and whipped. I had cum all over my body, my face, my hair. I had come myself more times than I would ever want to recall. 

I only vaguely remember Michael wrapping me in a blanket and hustling me into the car. I don't remember anything of the drive home. 

When we got inside the house, Michael looked at me and shook his head. "Get cleaned up. I'm ready to play."

"I should check the surveillance..." I started to protest, still quite dazed.

"Now, Anya." With that he turned and went up the stairs. .

The shower, cold as ever, did help to clear my head, though it did nothing for my aches and pains. My body was a mass of bruises, all of which would be gone by morning. But before I could heal, there would be Michael. The thought of him taking me in my current state was equally thrilling and terrifying.

When I stepped naked out of my tiny bathroom, there was a stranger standing there. He was young, handsome, Indian. He was on the floor with my hand at his throat almost before I'd registered his presence.

"I mean your master no harm."

Those words, spoken in my native Assamese, said this man knew more about me than anyone alive today should. I didn't move. The man didn't even blink.

"You have my attention," I said in English.

"I was taught that you were incredibly fast, and strong... but I would never have believed this. And your beauty!" 

At least he had the decency to blush.

"You are quickly losing my attention. Should I become bored, you will die." I smiled. Strange how much more intimidating a threat becomes when coupled with a smile. 

"You could kill me, knowing I pose no threat to your master?" He seemed shocked by the idea.

"Why not? I am more than a mere puppet, and I am under no direct orders to keep you alive. Also, I have only your word that you are not a threat."

He seemed to need to think this over. "It changes nothing. You will be redemed, whatever you have become, murderer or whore."

My hand tightened on his throat and he wisely quit talking. Slowly he held up his right hand. It was empty. Moving as if reaching out to touch a wild tiger, his hand slowly came to rest against my cheek. I frowned in confusion. And then the world exploded.

Michael

I was laid back on my bed, idly stroking my cock. Images of Anya being fucked by all of those dirty old men kept flashing through my mind. Their violence had been something of a surprise to me. For some reason it had me in a mood to be tender. I wanted to caress her face, touch her body, slowly make love to her while reminding her of all the naughty and painful things that had been done to her that evening. 

I had just realized that she was taking too long when I felt a shock through the bond. Something had startled Anya, but she calmed immediately. She was puzzled, but still wary. I stood. Before I could reach for a robe, my brain seemed to burst into flame and my very soul was ripped away. For a moment I couldn't breath. Then I felt it. Nothing. Where Anya had lived inside my mind for over two hundred and thirty years... there was just... nothing.

I screamed her name as I ran to the stairs.

"ANYA!!" 

I saw her, lying to the side of the stairway, naked. She looked dead. A man was hunched over her, his pants around his ankles. Was he raping her dead body? He looked up at me as I dashed down the stairs, his limp dick in his hand, stroking it furiously. It was the young man I'd seen beside the road yesterday afternoon. 

I vaulted over the railing and kicked him off of Anya's body. His eyes were wide with fear, but he still seemed to be trying to stroke his cock to life. Before I could rip his dick off and shove it down his throat, I heard Anya moan. 

I rushed to her, helping her as she sat up groggily. The young man finally stopped jerking his limp dick and pulled his pants up. I wished distantly that I had pants to pull up. 

"You may not want to be so close to her, when she realizes what's happened," he spoke calmly.

"Why? What's happened?" I demanded, though of course I knew. I just couldn't face it yet.

Anya pushed away from me and stood. She seemed steady enough, but she was breathing hard. She was staring at the young man with an unreadable expression. I had no idea at all what she was feeling. Realizing that, I felt a jolt of true fear. I took a slow step back from her. She glanced at me and gave a little shrug, before turning back to the stranger.

"Her bond with you is broken. It was an abomination that should never have been." He spoke to me, his voice all bravado.

"It that why you were going to rape her while she was still out?" I asked. Anya's eyes widened then narrowed into a glare that made the man swallow hard. "You were going to take her for yourself, is that it?"

"Yes!" he spat at me. His voice became pleading when he turned to Anya. "You were created to serve my family. It is how I was able to break your bond to this... this DEFILER. Only one of my linage can sever the bond. You should have belonged to my ancestor. But we can still make it right. Come with me. Claim the destiny this thief took from you."

She continued to stare at him silently for the longest time. When she did speak she sounded... empty. 

"Before I was created," Anya said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Before your magicians created me, I was born. I was a baby born to a mother, destined to live a mortal life with friends and family... children perhaps. THAT is what was stolen. Your family, your magicians stole my LIFE from me. They made me into a weapon and bound me into eternal slavery. Nothing can ever make that right."

Anya took a breath and spoke in a louder tone. Standing naked in the foyer of the house in which she had so recently been enslaved, she looked and sounded like a queen passing sentence. 

"For the act of freeing me, whatever your motives, I thank you. But if you try to touch me, if I so much as set eyes on you after tonight, I will kill you. Even so, you stand as a trespasser in the home of a man who has lost much at your hands. You might wish to run." 

She swept past me without at glance. I watched her climb the stairs and then I turned to the young man standing there stunned. Finally he turned to me with a look of arrogant disdain. I closed the distance between us before he had the good sense to heed Anya's warning. I snapped his neck and went upstairs to find some pants. 

Instead I found Anya sitting naked on the floor beside my bed hugging her knees. 

"I thought you'd be packing," I said, stupidly. Actually I'd thought she'd be waiting to kill me.

"I don't have anything to pack," she said softly. "Everything belongs to you."

I barked a laugh. "Don't kill me and you can take whatever you like." 

She looked up at me with a puzzled frown. "I hadn't thought to kill you, Michael."

"That's good to hear."

"But don't... don't touch me, okay? Not just now."

"Alright."

I sat on the side of the bed, far enough from her to be reassuring. I hoped.

"So, what will you do?" I asked finally.

She gave a mirthless little 'hah!'. "Learn to make decisions, I suppose. Did you kill him?"

"Yes."

"Good. It felt wrong for me to do it, but I'm glad."

Again we sat a time in silence. Again I was the one to break it.

"I thought you were dead, Anya. When the bond broke, I thought it was because you had died. I saw him over your body... I thought that slimy little bastard had killed you and was raping your corpse."

She didn't say anything.

"I feel so empty," I said.

"I know," she said. "Me too. I'm tired. Good night, Michael."

She lay on her side on the floor and closed her eyes. Sighing I got dressed and went to downstairs to dispose of the man who's just destoyed my life.

Anya

My mind was numb, and I was exhausted. I fell asleep almost instantly. I awoke just before dawn. My first thought before even opening my eyes was "I am a free person." My second thought was that I still had no idea what to do about it. 

A part of me, a very loud part to be honest, was almost giddy with joy. That part of me wanted to grab some clothes and the keys to the car Michael had bought for me and just ... drive. To leave and never look back. I had a viable identity. I could get a job or go to college. I could have friends. I couldn't have a lover of course, at least not a male lover, but I could live a real life. 

But there was that other part. The part that was still reeling from a devastating loss. I had lived every moment with another person inside my mind for centuries. Now there was this horrible emptiness. I sat up on the floor and looked up at Michael asleep on his bed. I breathed a sigh of relief. He was gone from my mind, but he was still there. It wasn't enough, but it was something.




The Bonding Ch. 05



I felt like two people. One eager to experience the new day, the other huddled in a dark cave, terrified of the sun. 

Finally I stood up and walked downstairs. I turned on the hot water to my tiny bathroom and took a long, hot shower. This much of freedom, I could definitely adjust to. After my shower I went to the kitchen and made a huge breakfast for myself. I sat at the table and ate slowly. When I was done I left my dishes in the sink.

I went back to Michael's room and crawled under his covers. I traced my fingers over his cock. I couldn't help thinking that my freedom depended on never taking this magnificent monster inside of me again. I was surprised to find myself weeping. 

I traced my tongue over his skin and slowly took him into my mouth. At least I could still have this much of him. I savored the taste of him as I sucked, feeling him growing impossibly huge, stretching open my jaw. 

He groaned as he came awake, pressing my head down, forcing himself deeper, choking me. He thrust up suddenly, burying all ten inches in my throat. I gagged and tried to breath. I felt my sex flood with wetness. And it wasn't his arousal triggering it, it was my own. 

"Anya?" His voice was confused, half asleep. He let go of my head suddenly.

I pulled back slowly until I could breath again. I sucked him, using my hands and tongue to stroke him. There was something so very erotic about doing this simple thing, this thing I had done so many, many times. Because I was doing it now as a free person. This act was mine, to do or not... it was my gift. 

For some reason that thought made my sex throb and ache. I squeezed my thighs together and rocked back and forth as I sucked him. I moaned over his cock and pulled him from my mouth.

I looked up at him as my tongue swirled around the head. He looked almost afraid, despite his raging erection. Imagine, Michael afraid of me. But that wasn't what I wanted. This was supposed to be my gift. 

"Michael," I said, my voice husky with need. "I'm so close. I need the switch. Please, Michael."

His eyes widened in surprise. He hesitated a moment. Then he took the switch in one hand, the other he tangled in my hair, jerking my head sharply back. He brought the thin reed down on my back as he looked into my eyes.

I couldn't feel his reaction when I cried out. There was no desperate hunger for his pleasure to buffer the pain. It just... hurt. And it kept right on hurting as he whipped me over and over, even after he'd let go of my hair so I could take him back into my mouth.

But the pain did it's job. It fueled his passion, and while it didn't seem to cool mine in the least, it did distract me from reaching my own orgasm. He shot his seed down my throat while I moaned in pain and longing. My gift to him.

I used my tongue to clean him and then crawled to the bathroom to kneel beside his toilet. I held his cock while he pissed. I bathed him, shaved him, and dressed him. Then I dressed myself in jeans and one of his old sweaters. I put on my favorite shoes, the comfortable ones. 

"Sorry, I've already had breakfast. You can manage though, right?" I asked and smiled.

Maybe I would be able to find some balance between freedom and slavery. I didn't know if such a thing were even possible., but I thought I'd like to find out.



The Bonding of LanceGT and LMJ



The Bonding of LanceGt and LittleMissJen

This is the telling of two Literotica writers who become bound by the power of words and experience the joys of sharing their private worlds. To understand their mutual attraction, it is told by both of them. LanceGT is written in bold lettering and LittleMissJen in italics. They will tell it together from each of their perspectives, so you, the readers, will understand what brought them together and what they shared between them. I will be your nameless narrator and fill in the details for continuity.

*

In mid-summer of 2009, I had just finished the third chapter of my chronicling of my ex's descent into being a slave. I had won a lottery of a substantial amount and set about turning her into a slave and debasing her for her arrogance and self indulgence, as she had treated my son and I like worthless beings. I was receiving lots of feedback from readers on the site as well as e-mails sent to me by those who felt I deserved their personal attention and admiration. One mailing in particular was from LittleMissJen. I hadn't read any of her works before, but she had read a couple of mine.

I was taken by her openness about BDSM and her enjoyment at reading my stories, 'Life At Last', in particular. She related to me how she had read several stories to her Dom and they even acted some of the events out together. I was overwhelmed by the fact that I had created such emotion in someone, that they were compelled to respond to me and ask that I include some of the play that they enjoyed together. I responded to her and told her I would be happy to include a factual account of a real D/S relationship. 

I was intrigued by her and searched her out in the members list to see who she was. I learned she was a true submissive and enjoyed a great many things associated with the lifestyle. I started to read her writings and gained an insight of a lifestyle I knew little about and found an admiration for her. I had never really been interested in it, and only wrote from reading and watching videos and talking to friends who had some experience in dabbling in the outer edges of it. I wrote back and told her how I felt and told her I admired her for her openness in sharing herself with others in her experiences with her Dom. 

We ended up becoming cyber friends and shared not only our mutual admiration, but sent our pics and fantasies as well. It wasn't long before I found myself becoming attracted to her on a deeper level and wanted to share more than cyber space with her. The distance between us was negligible, but the distance was more than just miles. It was my lack of knowledge of her world and the emotional connection of two people who shared in the mutual satisfaction, of one giving pain and the other receiving it. I had never gone any further than playful spanking while making love, yet I found myself becoming interested in her world of submission and what it entailed. 

I know there are many who look down on this as a true expression of love for one another, but I was understanding what it was, when a person found their true expression of themself and what they were inside. I was intrigued to find I had a desire to be a dominant lover and shared that with Jen. She explained the intricacies of a sub's needs and how they should be fulfilled. I had no idea or concept of pain being pleasurable until she explained the fine line that existed between them. She told me her greatest enjoyment was being punished by a woman, while I watched her submit. So many fantasies roled into one session was more than I could imagine.

**************************

Lance had been drawn into a world that had remained an enigma to many and found a desire building inside him to explore what it was about. His experience in lovemaking so far, had brought him to a point of understanding the ultimate expression a man can give to woman. A desire for her complete satisfaction. He knew her orgasmic release from emotions felt and a knowledge of her inner desires and what she needed to feel and experience, was more important than his own. He had brought great joy and satisfaction to many women, experiencing their orgasms as deeply as if they had happened to him. His time spent with previous lovers in swingers clubs, had given him an insight to the multitude of differences that women have in acheiving orgasmic fulfillment. Here he understood, that this new world before him, was a new chapter to read and explore. Jen had opened the book to this new chapter and had read to him about the joys this side of sexual fulfillment could hold for him.

**************************

I've known since I was a young girl, that I was different than other girls. From the first time I was handled aggressively by a boyfriend while having sex, I knew I liked that style. As other boyfriends came and went, my experiences dictated my desire to submit to them and found I truly enjoyed being dominated. So called, ' normal sex', never left me as satisfied and it was the few who saw my reaction to their forceful behaviour that knew how to please me. I enjoyed being treated like a plaything and served their sexual needs with a desire to please. The more I served and submitted, the greater my own satisfaction became. I'm not a mindless bimbo without a clue, but an intelligent, well spoken woman who has come to terms with who I truly am. I have found the joys of making love to another woman, as well as exploring the farthest reaches of myself to what I need, to know that I am being honest with myself. I finally found a man that allows me to serve him and submit myself to him in every way. I found my limitations to what I'll do and we have shared our lives as Dom and Sub for several happy years. 

At my Dom's approval, I began writing about our experiences and posted them in Literotica. I really didn't care if I was dismissed by some readers as a sicko, as I knew there were others like my Dom and I that enjoyed this lifestyle. I read stories from other writers and read them to my Dom, who enjoyed taking them to our playtime and acting them out. We enjoyed our relationship more than before, learning new ways to find mutual pleasure. It was a writer named Lance GT that posted a story, called 'Life At Last', that held my interest. I read it over and over to myself and enjoyed the depth of his character's intiation to BDSM, that I felt compelled to write to him and let him know he had touched a chord within me. He thanked me for my gratitude and said he would read my stories as well. 

Within a week, I received a letter back from him, telling me how he admired not only my stories, but me as well. He told me it was my openess at relating my feelings and my experiences that made him take note of me. I felt honoured by his praise, as I felt his writing was worth mention and his depth given to the characters, led to a story that captivated the reader. I was moved to thank him for his praise of my work and me personally and found myself attracted to him. I searched for his profile and read his bio, only to discover that he had written numerous stories I now enjoy and a fetish for female orgasms. I became intrigued as to what his talents were at providing women with this joy, and wrote back to him. I was thrilled to find a man, comfortable with his sexuality and his knowledge of the female body and mind. Numerous mailings back and forth, found us becoming fast friends and we shared a mutual respect and admiration for one another. 

I kept these to myself and filed them away for private reading, not wanting my Dom to feel I was cheating in any way. I knew I would be punished for it, and not in a way I would enjoy. With the intimacy growing between us, I took the risk finally and crossed the line. I sent him pictures of me and told him my real name. I knew this would forever change what we had, but he brought something to my life, I never felt or expected. I had fallen in love. 

Up until now, I was happy serving and pleasing and was fulfilled in my life with my Dom. What I finally realized with Lance, was a deeper meaning to what I truly needed to be whole and complete. My Dom took great care of me, making sure I was well fed and dressed, a nice home to live in and a desire for mutual respect. What I now realize we lacked, was an emotional bond that went deeper than pleasure and knew we'd never have it. I was heartbroken for days after I sent the true identity of myself to Lance and no reply came. I felt I had destroyed a great chance at being friends with someone who understood my essence as a woman and a submissive. 

My saddness ended when I opened my E-mail to find a letter from him. I read it carefully, making sure I had read it correctly when I read his words. Without any lack of conviction, he expressed his love for me and his apologies for not responding sooner.I noticed the little paper clip symbol and opened the attachment. To my surprise and great exhillaration, was a picture of him and his real name. I stared at it for an eternity, looking at his eyes and his smile and wanted to be by him in the flesh. I wanted to experience his smell and taste. I wanted to feel the touch of his hand and the feel of his body next to me, holding me close and feeling his strength. I quickly filed it into my secret folder and brought it out as often as I could and masturbated, imagining us doing all the things I enjoyed.

*************************

Jen had discovered a new part of herself. One that she had longed for in her inner most being. All her lovers had been good at providing her sexual needs to be submissive, but none had gone past the need to allow her emotional fulfillment as well. With her new found love, she knew this could never remain platonic. No amount of letters strung into sentences could express what she felt and pictures could only fill so much of the void in her heart. A hungry yearning ate at her to be with him. Nothing else would suffice, but to be in his arms. During a session with her Dom, she had fantasized it was Lance who was pleasing her and reached greater orgasmic bliss during their play, than she ever had before. It became all to clear what she had to do. Her computer expressed her desires as best it could, and Lance was asked if he would meet her.

*************************

I opened my e-mail and saw I had a new letter from Jen. I was thrilled to find she had fallen in love with me, but in my heart, it was bitter-sweet to know we weren't able to be together. I looked at her picture often and fanatasized about her, doing the things she taught me about and seeing her respond to me. I knew my relationship with my new girlfriend was as satisfying as any could be, but it lacked the depth of exploration and intimacy Jen had shown me. I was compelled to be satisfied with our fantasy and live my cyber-life with her in secret. I started sending her orders to perform sexual duties and do things she had told me she liked doing. We started using webcams to see that she was doing them and I was hooked. I watched as she applied nipple and clit clips and fucked herself with dildos while she had a large butt plug stuffed inside her ass. The greatest thrill was watching her cum, screaming out my name, as she gushed her fluid. I masturbated myself while watching her, but it lacked the satisfaction of me being present touching her, punishing her and experiencing the touch of her pleasing me. 

Making love to my woman in my real world somehow paled to what I knew Jen could share with me. Never having actually experiencing a D/S session, I could only imagine what the real thing was like. I had graduated to a point where nothing else but the real live event of pleasuring Jen mattered. I longed to know what doing all those things to her would bring out of her. I wanted to experience the sounds and smells. I wanted to feel her body as it responded to my manipulations. The idea of crossing the barrier of distance became paramount in my need and I longed for her to be with me. 

I hesitated in responding to her letter, trying to decide what to do about all of it, when I knew for certain in my heart, we had to be together. Nothing else would suffice. I opened my E-mail to write to her and noticed a new letter from her. Opening it, I read it quickly and my heart jumped and then raced wildly. Jen felt like I did. Her desires had become as strong as mine and her needs echoed mine. We had to meet.

************************

With nothing left to conclude but a time and place, Lance and Jen set about finding a way of being together. It was a stroke of unexpected grief that presented them with an opportunity. Jen's Dom's Father was killed in an accident and he was flying to the east coast to be with his family. He told her he would be gone for a week or two to take care of the arrangements and the funeral. He allowed her the time to herself and she had freedom to enjoy the time as she wanted. It was up to Lance to find a way to get his girlfriend out of the house for that period and Jen would fly up and be with him. With unlimited resources, he easily talked his girlfriend into a two week stay at a spa/resort in Italy and sent his son with enough money for him and his friends, accompanied by mothers, to enjoy two weeks of fun in Florida at Disney World. The time was theirs and everything was set. Jen said goodbye and wished her Dom's family her deepest sympathies and she'd see him in two weeks. She said she was going to the west coast to see her friend she hadn't seen in years and he agreed it would be good for her to go. Lance took two trips to the airport and saw his son and girlfriend leave for their destinations. One more trip for an arrival was all that was left for him to experience what his heart had desired so strongly.

***********************

I packed my clothes and all the toys I could fit in my suitcases. I couldn't stop smiling and my heart raced, knowing I was meeting someone who brought a deeper feeling of joy to my life. I wanted to please him so much and make him happy with me. I have always felt the need to please someone and gain my pleasure from doing it. Now it was the most important thing for me to do. Lance had brought out desires in me that made all my subbing till now pale in comparison to how much I wanted to be with him and submit myself to him. I remembered his instruction to keep my holes filled during my trip and slid my plug into my ass and then pushed my love balls into my cunt. The feeling it gave me knowing it was for his pleasure made me soaking wet before the taxi came to get me. I dressed exactly as I was told to and wore my hair and make up as instructed. When I finished, I looked in the mirror and saw myself. I came hard ,knowing I looked just as ordered and had to wipe my dripping cunt. I used a pair of tiny thong panties and soaked them with all the cum and sealed them in a baggie for him. I wanted to give him a special gift for our first face to face. My heart raced when the cab arrived and I locked the door and didn't look back.

I rode in the back, looking out the window, as I watched my previous life fall into the distance and slowly close towards my new one. I became nervous at knowing my toys were being scanned by a faceless customs agent somewhere between check in and the loading on the plane. I had no reservations about my cunt and ass filled to repletion with my toys and savoured the excitement they brought me. Several times I went to the washroom to quickly masturbate myself to relieve the overwhelming pressure of orgasms that kept consuming me as I sat in my seat and fantasized about Lance and I together. He had given me that pleasurable permission to do so and I took every oppotunity to do it. The scenery below me wasn't as captivating to my thoughts and seemed to move in slow motion, even though we were cruising at over 600 MPH. 

The announcement we would be landing soon, brought a renewed exhillaration and a nervous excitement that it was soon to be a reality and the fantasy of it all vanished. I disembarked to the terminal and waited for my bags to come down to the carousel. My hands were sweaty and I knew I was almost there as I passed the customs desk. The agent gave me a sly look, which I'm sure was because of my glow. Hell after four orgasms and a constant flow coming from my juicy cunt, it wasn't too hard to tell what I had been doing, from the aroma wafting from me.

***************************

Lance stood with the others waiting to see their loved ones and shifted nervously. Unknown to Jen, he had called to his house in the country and asked the girls training his ex if one of them would be interested in meeting a new friend of his. Rachel won the toss and had quickly packed her things and came to his house in the suburbs. Carolyn was happy to stay and be serviced by her charge, the Bitch, and helped her pack as many impliments of tortuous pain they could fit in. When she arrived, he explained to Rachel who it was and showed her the E-mails they had exchanged, describing what Jen was into and she was thrilled she had won the toss. She would be waiting at the house for them to return, so Lance could add to the surprise. 

With the board saying the flight had arrived, he looked with focused intent at the door to open and see Jen walking towards him.

****************************

I had never felt so excited to be with someone before this. I watched as the door opened and passengers came out to be greeted by the people around me. I almost thought Jen had backed out and felt a great disappointment wash over me. It was premature of course, as the door opened and the person in my pictures walked out and saw me. I could see the excitement on her face and her eyes sparkled as she smiled widely and rushed towards me. I held her tightly in an embrace I'm sure almost took her breath away and she dropped her bags and returned it with equal vigour. With our faces just inches apart, I looked into her eyes and then kissed her with all the emotion I had stored inside. It seemed an eternity and I'm sure many of the others looked at us, wondering if we would just strip and fuck madly right there. With the desire to get home and continue, I took her bags and Jen took my arm as I led her to the waiting limo. I was thrilled to see her face, as the driver opened the door for us and ushered us in. I had become used to it now and saw the new thrill for Jen to ride in style. I closed the privacy divider and turned to Jen and wanted to know if my instructions were carried out. Without hesitation, she raised her short skirt and spread her legs out. I looked between them and there was the flange of her plug pressed tightly to her anus and the dripping from her pussy let me know there were love balls stimulating her inside. With a gentle push, one popped out and she giggled and pushed it back in. In a flash she had her arms around me and hugged me tightly. The ride home wasn't too long as I live close to the airport, but it afforded us the chance to kiss and share a quiet moment of introspection at what we were about to do.

*****************************

I think I came the moment I walked through the doors and saw Lance standing there. He looked even more handsome in real life and his smile made me gush ,as I knew I had pleased him. I rushed the rest of the way and before I could do anything, He hugged me tightly and I felt so wanted and needed. More so, I felt the rush of what love must be. I stood helpless for a moment and then dropped my bags and held him to me. I felt my cunt surge at that moment and knew I had done what was right for me. All the nagging feelings of being unfaithful to my Dom vanished in a heartbeat, as I knew Lance was what my heart had been missing and my totallity of being was now complete. The look in his eyes and the smile on his face made my soul sing with ecstasy, as I knew he was happy with me. When he took my bags and I took his arm, I felt respected and cherished as a person. My breath left me when he stopped outside and a driver opened the rear door to a beautiful, white limo for us. I must have looked like a silly, little girl when he saw my expression and left the bags to the driver to stow in the trunk, after he closed the door for us. I hugged him again and thanked him so much. I saw him press a button and a dark divider rose, enclosing us in privacy. I was excited when he asked if I had obeyed his instructions and quickly lift my skirt to show him my butt plug. My love balls were rolling around inside my cunt, happily causing my pussy to keep gushing. I gave a little push with my keigels and one popped out. I pushed it back in and looked at him for a sign of his approval. His eyes said it all and I hugged him tightly knowing I was a good girl for him. 




The Bonding of LanceGT and LMJ



****************************

The limo pulled onto Lance's street, a quiet cul-de-sac, and stopped in front of his house. At this point, I will only be here for description and allow Lance and Jen to tell it in the words of their conversation.

****************************

"Here we are. How do you like it?" .

"It's beautiful! It's better than the pics you sent."

"I have to confess something to you. I have another surprise waiting inside for you."

"Another surprise? Oh Lance, I'm so happy already being here with you, I don't know if I can take another one."

"I think it's going to show how much I care about your happiness and my desire to please you the way you like."

"Really? I can't wait. You've done so much for me already and I don't think I could be happier."

****************************

The driver opened the door and helped Jen exit the limo. He went to the trunk and carried the bags to the door and Lance thanked him with a handshake and a crisp hundred dollar bill. He ushered Jen inside and closed the door. As Jen turned to kiss him again, she heard footsteps approaching and turned back to see a woman with striking green eyes and long, wavy, auburn hair approach. Her smile brightened her face and Jen saw how well her body looked. She felt an attraction to her immediately and turned back to Lance. Rachel will be represented in bold italics.

***************************

"Jen, meet your surprise. This is Rachel, she has come from her duties training my ex and has gladly agreed to help assist me in learning to please you. I know how you enjoy a woman to administer your punishment, and she's a very experienced Dom and knows what a woman like you needs to feel."

"She's for me? My surprise? Oh Lance, I love you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"I love you too precious one. Jen, Rachel. Rachel meet Jen."

"A great pleasure to meet you Jen. I'm looking forward to finding out what your limits and safe words are. But for now, let's get you settled and have some refreshments."

"A wonderful idea, thank you, Rachel."

**************************

Jen shook the soft hand held out to her and felt the strength in it. In a fleeting moment, her world had become as close to perfection as she felt it could be. Lance carried Jen's bags to the bedroom, while Rachel went to the kitchen and prepared some cool drinks and sandwiches. They returned to the living room and sat enjoying the drinks, and ate lightly.

**************************

"So Jen, I have to say, you are very attractive. I'm going to enjoy serving my Master here and pleasuring you."

"Lance is your Master? He told me he wasn't involved in my lifestyle."

"I'm not sweet girl. Rachel is someone I hired to turn my Bitch of an ex wife into a subservient slut. She and Carolyn are staying at my place in the country and training her. Quite well I might add. Rachel, I have to tell you, I am so happy at how you've brought her to her knees and she seems to obey commands willingly."

"Thank you Master. That's so kind of you to say. Carolyn and I are really enjoying her. Oh, I must tell you, all her piercings are done and the ink has started. That part will take some time you understand."

"Of course I do Rachel. I still think we're way ahead of schedule and my girlfriend has agreed to come out to the house when she gets back and look her over. She has a desire to see her suffer for what she did to my son and I. It was a stroke of luck that she wanted an old-fashioned handmaiden and telling her Bitch was in training to be just that, convinced her to use her. She's not sure about anything sexual yet, but I'm sure I can convince her she'll find great pleasure in getting serviced by her."

"I'm sure she will. Carolyn and I get our asses and pussies licked clean every morning and she's happy to suck and lick us both dry after we cum on her face. It's too bad you're such a kind, sweet man and didn't whip her sorry ass earlier. Not that we mind you being like that, we love you for your kindness and very, generous employ. The house is fabulous and we're both going to be sad to leave it."

"Well, I'll let you know now, I'm letting you and Carolyn use it whenever I'm not out there. Feel free to give me a call and enjoy it."

"Master, you are really are a good man. Jen, you may not know it yet, but this is truly one of the good ones. Don't let him get away. I only wish I could meet someone of his caliber to fall in love with."

"I'm getting a sense of that already. I really do want to please him in every way I can and make him happy. He has given me more in the short time we've been together on line, than I've felt in my lifetime. I'm looking forward to our first time together and if you're providing the pleasure, it seems it's going to happen that way." 

"Girls please, my head is swelling here and I'm not used to all this admiration being thrown my way. I'm just a regular guy, with a better than average outlook on life is all. Certainly not worth all this palaver."

"Lance, you are worth all this and more, isn't he Rachel? To show my love to you, I brought you a little present. Something from me to you"

****************************

Jen hurried to her cases and retreived the bag with her wet panties inside. She hurried back and knelt before Lance, handing them to him. He looked at them and opened the bag and smelled her essence come out. he smiled and put them beside him and gave Jen a kiss and thanked her.

****************************

"Well, Jen has a treat for you too Rachel. Jen, stand and remove your skirt. Bend over and remove the toys that have kept you filled."

****************************

Jen dutifully undid her skirt and let it drop to the floor. She bent at the waist and took the love balls out of her cunt. They slid out easily and a trail of viscous fluid stretched behind them as she gave them to Rachel. Rachel rolled the balls in her hand, feeling the sticky fluid come away. She watched as Jen reached behind and slowly removed the butt plug, letting Lance and her see how widely her ass was stretched inside. The action caused more of her fluid to escape and fall on the floor beneath her. In an act of complete subservience, she dropped to her knees and licked the floor clean and then stood quietly. Rachel moved closer and bent her over again.She noticed the tattoo on her right ass cheek that said, 'Spank Me', and smiled. Jen complied and spread her legs wide for inspection. Rachel slid three fingers inside her dripping, wet cunt and then slid them into the elastic opening of her ass. As she knew already to be compliant, she didn't utter a word, as Rachel felt her inside both gaping holes. Rachel released her and told her to strip completely. Jen removed the thin tank top and stood naked before her. Rachel hefted the weight of her tits and then pinched her nipples. With nothing more than a facial expression, she allowed Rachel to do whatever she wanted. Ordering her to remain standing at attention, they talked about what Rachel would do to her and Jen nodded and answered obediently.Jen was thrilled at Rachel's talents and abilities to get the most out of a session. It was extensive in many areas of BDSM and Jen knew she was going to be treated to a night of painful pleasure at her hands. Lance sat and listened intently at their conversation, learning how Dom and Sub worked together. 

The day wore on and it was coming to a time when Jen would submit herself for her new Master and Lover. She left with Rachel to go to the bedroom and showed her what she had brought to play with. Rachel inspected each item and took her hand and led her to her room. Rachel opened her case and Jen's eyes went wide at the assortment of impliments Rachel had brought. They took them out one by one and Rachel discussed how she would use each one on her and Jen looked into Rachel's eyes and knew Lance had chosen a precious and thoughtful surprise for her. This beautiful woman was someone she would gladly submit for, knowing her body would be treated with wonderful pain, bringing her needs to bear. They closed the case and went back to find Lance. He wasn't in the living room and Jen called out for him.

************************

"Lance, where are you, Baby?

"I'm down in the office, Follow my voice, I want to show you something."

"I know what he's doing. I think you'll find this very interesting."

"What is it?"

"Oooh, I think I'll let you see it for yourself."

"Hey girls, I just brought up yesterday's events. You girls had some fun with Bitch, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we did. I wanted to see how her new piercings were doing. And I have to tell you, Master, the outfit that goes with it is gorgeous. I wouldn't have spent as much on it as you did, but it is beautiful."

"What are you watching, Lance?"

"This, my sweet angel girl, is what I was writing about in my story 'The Fallen One'. A lot of people think it is just a story, but as you can see, there she is in all her splendor. This segment is about her piercings that I wanted done. We'll get some close up shots soon, there, look at the intricate work done on her tits and nipples. We'll see a shot of her cunt soon too. I had the artist make a design that was purposeful and intricately beautiful as well. Her cunt is just as nicely done, and has it purposes too. The finishing touch is the silver chain mail bra and panties that go with it. when they're on, the little loops are attached to the gold studs."

"Like I said Master, I wouldn't have spent that kind of money on her, but I do think it's exquisite."

"Lance, oh my God. I absolutely love it! If I'm a good girl, will you do that for me? Pierce me and stud me like that? I love the silver set too, it`s gorgeous.

"You like it, you'll have it my pet. I'll make sure this one pales in comparison to it. Wait for a while and you'll see how her body gets tattoed as well to add to it. I want nothing left for her to look at that will remind her of who she used to be. You'll look more beautiful than you do now, I'll adorn it with jewels and gold and silver as well. 

"Didn't I say he was one of the good ones? How many guys you know would do that for you? 

"Oh Lance, I'll be so good to you. I'll serve you like no other woman ever will. I'll give myself to you heart, body and soul, I love you so much.

**************************

The trio watched the video of Bitch's piercing and stud work for a little while longer and Jen knew her heart was his. To be treated with the respect as a person of equal value and to be allowed to serve him as she needed to, made her fill with the emotion of love that had been remiss from her Dom. But still in the back of her mind, the reality of knowing he was already taken and this was only two weeks of sheer joy, made the the thrill of it all diminish and cause a stabbing pain of reality set in. Lance saw the look in her eyes and knew what she was thinking.

**************************

"I know what you're thinking Little One. What's going to happen after the two weeks are up? I have ideas in my head I haven't thought all the way through, but be assured, I want you with me always."

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

"It isn't hard to see what the saddness in your eyes was telling me. It could only mean one thing and one thing only."

"You are an amazing man. I don't know if I'll ever get to know how deep you really go. I do know I'll never stop learning and appreciating you. That, I know in my heart to be true. And when you tell me you'll find a way for this to work, I trust you, that you will and draw comfort knowing that." 

"You`ll have all the time in the world now to find out how deep my love for you goes. Now, I`ve been waiting for a lifetime already to experience what I`ve only seen on my computer. Mistress Rachel, please prepare my little one for a night of principled pleasure for me. Jen, my sweet angel, shut your fucking mouth now and don`t make another sound until I release you to. Do as your Mistress instructs and show me what you enjoy. Rachel, I trust you to take her to the limits and don`t hold back on anything. Treat her as your toy and do as you wish, with my blessings. I`ll be over in the den waiting for you two to return. Now my pet, follow Rachel and obey her and please me with your pain and compliance."

***************************

Jen, naked and excited by her first orders, followed Rachel to her room, obediently following two steps behind her. Once inside, Rachel instructed her to remove her clothes, fold them neatly and put them on the bed. Rachel handed her the black, leather corset with garters and turned so Jen could put it on her. She tied it as she was instructed and waited as Rachel took sheer, black stockings and told her to put them on her. Jen knelt and rolled the stockings in her hands and then waited until Rachel lifted her foot and Jen slid them over her foot and up her legs until they were stretched tight and snug against her thighs. She took each garter strap and hooked them on, making sure they were straight, She repeated the process again and stayed kneeling until ordered to rise. Rachel handed her the 5" strapped pumps and slid them on, making sure Rachel's feet were properly in them and then clasped the buckles together. In a move of her own doing, she lowered her face and kissed the points of each shoe and knelt back, keeping her head lowered. Rachel ordered her to stand and handed her two long leather gloves. She held her hands out and Jen slid each one over her hands and up her arms to the elbow and made sure they were snugged into her fingers. Jen stood with her head bowed,when ordered, as she knew a good sub should, and waited silently. Rachel reached into her case and took out a studded collar. This one had dulled points facing into the skin and ordered Jen to put it around her neck. Jen complied and felt the points dig into her sensitive flesh. Rachel attached a long leash to the collar and led her

****************************

"You're a good sub. I'd like to have one like you for myself. I'm going to really enjoy bringing you to the brink of your limits and make you proud of what you're going to do for your Master. Now close the case and bring it with you."

****************************

Jen took the case of impliments and walked behind Rachel, as she led her back downstairs. Rachel brought her into the den and paraded her for Lance to see, then led her to the centre of the room, where a large square ottman sat. Rachel ordered her to kneel in the centre of it and undid the leash. Jen crawled on and turned so she was facing Lance and stood erect on her knees. She dutifully waited as Rachel opened the case and took out the clamps she'd shown her earlier. Rachel squeezed one open and then took one nipple and pulled it, stretching it out painfully and then releasing it in an erect state. The clamp bit in hard and then Rachel repeated it again for the other one. Jen squeezed her eyes shut, but refused to disobey Lance's orders to remain silent until told to speak or utter a sound. Rachel gave her tits a gentle pat and watched the chains swing underneath them. Rachel attached the two leather ends and ordered Jen to open her mouth, The chains were short and it caused them to pull on her tits, bringing them up. Jen kept her eyes focused on Lance intently, wanting him to see how much she wanted to please him. The smile on Lance's face told her that she was doing well, keeping her spirits up and compelled her to take anything and everything she was given. Her body shivered in expectation of the first blows and she felt her pussy clench and a flow of fluid soaked her thighs. 

Rachel went into the case again and brought out a leather flogger with smooth leather thongs 18" long. Standing to her side, Jen watched as Rachel started with a rotating swing that slapped the sensitive underside of her tits repeatedly. In moments, the skin glowed a bright red and Jen bit down on the leather in her mouth, stifling the urge to respond with a vocalizing of her pain. Rachel moved in back of her and moments later the braids were wrapping across her tits, pulling at the chains as they came away. The pain was delicious in how Rachel knew just how hard to swing. 

Lance watched intently, seeing how the pain caused Jen to respond with her body. Ripples washed over her skin as nerves responded to the severe stimulation. He could see the trail of shining fluid run slowly down her thighs, already reaching her knees and touching the soft leather of the ottoman.

Rachel came around and looked at the reddened condition of the smooth skin of Jen's tits and was pleased with the results she saw. Both were a dark red, but lighter in comparison to the clamped darkness her nipples were. Other than wincing and blinking the tears away, Jen kept her focus on Lance's eyes. Nothing Rachel would do, would make her lose her focus of desire. That desire was the look of satisfied pleasure on his face. Stealing the briefest of glances, she looked down at his crotch and the swelling there, let her know she was succeeding in giving him the pleasure she ultimately and desirously wanted him to feel. 

Rachel removed the chain from her mouth and then with both hands, removed the clamps and then pinched her nipples hard and rolled them in her fingers. The excruciatingly, exquisite pain raced through her nipples, into her head and the result was a gush from her cunt and a wave of fluid to slide down the demarked trail left by her previous flow. A small puddle formed in the crater of her knees on the ottoman, and her desire to orgasm was building already. 

*******************************

"My sweet girl, I never knew it could be so much more exciting to see you live, but I have to take my cock out and show you how proud I am of you. I want you to enjoy what Mistress Rachel has to give you and then have you show her how much you enjoyed her talents."

"She's a good girl, Master. I'm proud to serve you and give this little cunt the pain she needs to serve you properly. I'll show you just how much she can take and when you say so, I'll make her cum hard for you."

"Thank you Mistress, I'm looking forward to seeing her fulfilled in every way. Please continue."

********************************

Rachel had Jen turn around and get on all fours and spread her legs widely. The view for Lance of her plump, wet pussy, yawning slightly, and her puckered anus, remembering how they were filled only hours before, caused a surge in his cock and it sprang to attention. He stroked it lightly and slowly, just enough to keep it hard and erect. Rachel took a silver, cylindrical probe, four inches long and slender in girth and wiped it several times up and down between Jen's pussy lips. Using her free hand, she worked the pucker open and slid the probe inside until it disappeared inside her ass. 

Taking the controller it was attached to, she pushed buttons and it vibrated into action. The effects caused the sensitive nerve endings inside to spring to life and radiate out to her thighs and they quivered lightly. A long strand of slick, fluid ran out from the parted lips of Jen's cunt and dangled deliciously, shimmering with the vibration and lights shining on it. Rachel retreived a thick leather strap 18" long and moved it up and down, studying the flex it had. Standing to Jen's side and giving Lance a clear view of what she was going to do, she brought her hand back and let fly with the strap. A slight whistle of air came just before the slap of the leather made contact. Immediately a band of bright red appeared across Jen's white ass. Rachel applied several more in different areas and Jen's ass cheeks glowed brilliantly, almost masking her Spank Me tattoo. 

Jen threw her head back and clenched her teeth tightly as she felt the stinging brutality, but remained as still and silent as she was ordered to do. The pain she enjoyed so much, brought an increase in her surging cunt and the trail of viscous, shining fluid grew longer and thicker.The vibrations in her ass were changing from constant to pulsing and the strength varied in intensity, keeping her off balance to follow along with it.




The Bonding of LanceGT and LMJ



**************************

"She's becoming very wet, Master. I'm going to give her something else to enjoy while I strap her pretty white ass and thighs a deep red."

"Yes she is. I'm watching that lovely string of juice wiggle on each hit, but it isn't breaking off. That is too sexy for words. I'd like to see her brought to the brink of orgasm and hold her there. I want her to pour that cum out in buckets for me."

"So it shall be, Master. I know just what's needed."

**************************

Jen heard what was said and knew her resolve to obey was going to be put to the test. She fortified herself to comply and take whatever Rachel did to her. She couldn't feel the stringy cum dangling from her cunt, but was inwardly proud it had made Lance thrilled to see it. She remained perfectly still as Rachel came to her with a thick 8" vibe that she knew would fill her sopping cunt with latex induced pleasure. She opened her mouth and licked it as Rachel instructed, taking it deep in her throat, causing her gag reflex to be invoked. She expelled a large amount of saliva as a result and Rachel took it and spread it over and down the shaft. She felt her labia lips part as the tip entered and then a steady pushing had it completely inside her. With a twist of the end, the vibe came to life and vibration spread inside her and outward to her hooded clit.

***************************

"Make sure you keep these inside you and don't let them come out. I will be extremely upset if you disobey me and disappoint Master. You will not orgasm until told to and are reminded not to make a sound. Is that clear?"

**************************

Jen complied with a nod of her head, her blonde hair tossed in disarray and stuck to her skin, where her sweat had formed. Her body was covered in a sheen of perpiration, as she concentrated on receiving her punishment and the pleasure it invoked in her. The vibe in her ass and the new one stuck deeply in her cunt, battled with each other to dominate her senses and drove her helplessly towards an orgasm. She steadied herself mentally and tried to concentrate on Lance's pleasure at her obedience. 

Rachel stood to the side again and administered a half dozen solid hits to her ass and upper thighs again and she clamped down hard on both vibes, making sure they remained in place, but causing the intensity to soar as well. She shook violently from the combination of pain and pleasure and felt herself oozing profusely as a result.

Rachel put the thick strap down and went into the case of impliments and took out a thin crop with a little leather tab on the end. She swished it, causing the tab to crack the air.

*************************

I never understood how the excruciating pain could be enjoyed by someone, until I understood the line I had learned about. All the things I had done to women were usually soft or done gently to those delicate areas. I had nibbled and bit them, noticing how each woman responded more or less to it. Spanking the cheeks of a woman's ass, as I fucked her from behind, was something I found many women enjoyed. Their orgasms seemed to be stronger and lasted longer. To see this extreme display to those same areas and the results it brought forth, allowed me to understand it was just the level of pain they were comfortable with that made them seek out a Dom who understood their needs and desires to take it to the edge. The submissiveness allowed them to mentally accept their desire to be taken this way and psychologically become what they knew to be true of themselves. It was a good Dom who enjoyed taking their sub to the limits of their psyche and what their bodies could withstand, without crossing the line of pleasuring their charges and instead selfishly brutalizing them for their own twisted cruel satisfaction. I now understood that a great deal of respect was shown and a bond of trust formed, to be able to submit their bodies to a Dom and be given what was needed to be sexually satisfied this way.

**************************

I knelt with my ass and cunt facing Lance, knowing he could see the excitement I was feeling as my cunt juiced uncontrollably. The vibrations were very extreme inside both my ass and cunt and I almost succumbed and orgasmed when Rachel administered the last blows of the strap. I had clenched tight to keep them inside as ordered and I felt the surge wash through me in a wave of pleasure so intense I almost collapsed. I stayed myself with the knowledge I wanted to be a good girl for Lance and show the depth of my love for him. Rachel was expert at bringing me close to orgasm and I knew I had to be strong in my will to keep from letting go and spilling my cum wrecklessly and then be treated to further punishment. 

**************************

Rachel drew back and let the crop sing through the air and land so the rod hit the cheek and the leather tip continue and smack with a wet sound on the labia. Jen's head flew back in surprise at the intricate pain and then felt five more grace her sensitive cunt flesh. It took all her strength not to cry out and her body screamed at her for release and expell her pent up orgasm waiting to come forth.

Rachel moved and shortened her grip so only several inches of the shaft were showing. She ran her hand over the tenderized flesh and then proceeded to administer a series of quick snaps of the tip against the ultra-sensitive clit, causing Jen to shake her head side to side violently and then collapse to her elbows. Her urge to close her legs was fought with a need to protect her little clit from the torture and her need to please her Dom. The painful retarding of her waiting orgasm caused a flow to gush out around the vibrating shaft inside her cunt and drop with an audible sound on the leather ottoman. Tears flowed constantly from her clenched eyes and streaked her red cheeks as they continued down and fell to the leather below.

Rachel knew it was time to bring about the ultimate expression of her craft and bring her new charge to a mind-blowing orgasm. She took the crop and held it by the grip and started to trace a series of sharp hits, starting from the soles of Jen's feet, causing her toes to curl tighly, and along her calves and up her thighs. She rained blow after blow over her already pained ass and up her back to finish at her shoulders. She admired her work and saw Jen quivering uncontrollably as the sensation heightened every nerve in her to the maximum.

She dropped the crop and retrieved a hand held vibrator with a bulbous tip the size of a baseball. She plugged it in and turned to Lance.

***************************

"I hope you're ready to see your little one here show you how she is ready to cum. I have treated her to a good work out and as you can see from her constantly dripping cunt, she's ready to please you with your request. Would you like to see her orgasm now Master?

"Yes Rachel, I think she's shown her devotion to me and I'm pleased with her performance. Please allow her the priviledge of making sounds and let her cum for us."

***************************

My body was alive with every nerve screaming at me. My pussy was clenching madly at the vibe and the vibrations were attacking my senses to the point I was losing control. I was so glad to hear Rachel ask Lance to let me cum now, as I knew there would be so much cum pent up inside me, it would gush violently from me when I released it.

**************************

Rachel turned the vibrator on and the buzzing sound filled the otherwise quiet area. She moved towards Jen, still bent over and resting on her elbows, and pressed it firmly against her clit. Jen sprang up onto her hands and cried out in absolute pleasure as the three vibes collided their sensations inside her cunt. The sound of Jen's wetness was emphasized and caused the buzzing to change in pitch, as she clenched and squeezed her muscles. 

Rachel leaned forward and used her free hand to roughly squeeze Jen's tit and then pinched her nipple roughly. This was all Jen could take and wailed out loud and long as her orgasm was released finally and the spewing of her ejaculate sprayed out. In a surge of release, the dildo buried inside her cunt fired out and landed on the floor at Lance's feet. He looked at the still buzzing shaft, coated with her fluids and then returned his gaze back to the still spraying and bucking Jen, as her orgasm consumed her in entirety. 

Rachel brought her gloved hand around under Jen and rubbed the swollen and tenderized clit and kept Jen in a constant state of orgasm. 

**************************

I felt the first spasms start deep inside me and radiate through me. The intensity was almost overwhelming as Rachel jammed the head of the vibrator against my clit. I was starting to feel my orgasm erupt, then she squeezed my tit and pinched my nipple and it drove me past control and I was cumming uncontrollably. I felt my body twitching and going into spasm as I released my cum and then an emptiness in my cunt came. I realized the dildo had left me, although I thought at first Rachel had pulled it out, then realized my cunt had fired it out in a surge of cumming. When Rachel rubbed my clit hard, I saw stars and felt dizziness wash over me. The buzzing in my ass kept the intensity at a level I couldn't ignore and then I remember dropping to my stomach as my muscles succumbed to the overwhelming assault my body and mind were subjected to and blackness washed over me.

***************************

Rachel finally took the vibrator away and removed the one in her ass as well. Sensing her semi-unconscious state, she knew anything further was futile. She turned them off and turned back to Lance. She smiled and waved her hand towards the prone Jen, breathing hard and fast, whimpering her satisfaction of the intense orgasm.

***************************

"Awesome! My God, look at the floor. I'll have to have the carpet cleaned. Rachel, you are truly a magnificent woman. I learned so much in this session, than all the reading and watching videos I did. My sweet, angel girl looks completely sated, doesn't she."

"She truly is Master. I used some of my best tricks on her. When we were upstairs talking earlier, she told me what she liked and when she saw my toys here, she grinned like a little girl at Christmas. I told her what I like to do with subs like her and she hugged me and thanked me before I even did anything. I have to say, Master, if you really want to have her in your life, I will be honoured to come and give you lessons on being a good Dom and treating her the way she likes and needs to be treated. She is a willing and obedient sub, any Dom would love to have. I envy you that you have her love, as well as her submissiveness. She will make you a very, happy man any way you want her to please you."

"I have come to that understanding as well, Rachel. The joy she's brought me already and desires to give me, I'd be a fool to let her go. I'm just trying to figure how to keep her and let my girlfriend know I have to be with her."

"If I may offer a suggestion. Why not let your girlfriend spend a weekend with me and I'll show her the pleasures of what the Bitch can bring to her. I'm betting she'll let you have Jen and take her new handmaiden and be happy being a lady of the manor and having her whims catered to. Just to sweeten the deal, let her have the house in the country as well. It's all set up for her to move right in and take charge. I know you offered it to Carolyn and I, but we'd be just as happy spending time with you and Jen, giving you the pleasure of watching us do our trade on her. Jen would love it, you'd love it and so would we. It's a win, win, win situation for everyone. It's just a suggestion mind you."

Rachel, you are brilliant! The house is a right off anyway. I only bought it for Bitch's training and was thinking of selling it when you were done anyway. That would solve everything. Come here and let me hug you, I love you, you smart girl."

*************************

Rachel moved to Lance and he hugged her tightly and thanked her. In his first display of affection towards her, Rachel felt slightly uncomfortable, but warmed to his embrace and returned it. With a kiss to her cheek, he held her by her hands and smiled happily at her.

*************************

"I see my little girl is finally coming around. I'd like her to show her appreciation for your efforts and pleasure you the way I know she can. Jen my angel, how are you feeling?"

*************************

Jen was still groggy from her session and her explosive orgasm, but turned and faced Lance and Rachel. She smiled weakly and rubbed her sore tits and pussy, feeling the pain subside.

*************************

"Oh Lance, were you happy with me? Did I do good? I did everything just as you ordered and waited until you said before I came."

"I'm very happy my sweet girl. You were magnificent in every way. If you're ready, I'd like you to show your thanks to Mistress Rachel for treating you to such a wonderful punishment. Oh, and before you do, I have something you should hear that might make you want to really show your thanks. While you were recovering, Rachel has come up with a solution for me. It looks like it is going to work out for us to be together and, you'll be treated to not only Rachel, but Carolyn coming over to service you regularly."

"Really? I'm going to stay with you? Forever? I'll have two Mistresses treat me as well as you? You're not teasing me are you? 

*************************

Jen saw the look on both their faces and knew they weren't teasing her. She rose slowly off the ottoman, still finding it sore to move. She walked as quickly as her legs allowed and hugged Lance and kissed him with all the feeling and emotions her heart had wanted to give. In a slow movement, she turned and looked at Rachel and moved to hug her as well. In a way that felt and looked natural, she kissed her deeply and the sentiment was returned by Rachel to her. Lance stood watching them and felt a new surge of pleasure erupt in his cock and it sprang to attention.

**************************

"I think you are ready now Jen. Let's go upstairs to the bedroom where you two can enjoy some comfortable lovemaking. I'm looking forward to seeing you pleasure Rachel in real life. I've only seen Bitch do it on video up till now, so this should be interesting. But just remember, I've got this thing between my legs that's begging for some attention as well."

"You know what Rachel? If you're okay with it, let's suck my master's cock and give him some relief before I show you my heartfelt appreciation for doing this for us. Are you interested?"

**************************

Rachel looked at Jen, knowing her approval of doing it was there, and then looked to Lance with a questioned look for his approval.

**************************

"I have no objections. Damn, I can't think of anything more enticing than you two beautiful women bringing some relief to the big fella here. If we have a concensus, then let's not waste any more time. Let's get those sweet asses on the bed and do it!"

**************************

The three of them walked upstairs to the master bedroom and Lance lay in the middle of the king size bed. Rachel and Jen lay on either side and cuddled into him. With brief kissing and caressing, they worked their way down his body, until their faces were beside Lance's eager member. Jen took it in her hand and kissed the dark, swollen head and then sucked it in. In an instant, her saliva was flowing and she let it dribble down and coat the turgid shaft. She stroked the slick spit up and down and then engulfed the shaft and deeply sucked him down to the root. Bringing her head back up, she offered it to Rachel who hesitated momentarily and then followed suit and deep-throated the cock. Lance groaned his approval at their talents and stroked their heads and tangled his fingers in their hair. They sucked and licked back and forth, not trying to out-do one another, but trying to show their love of this wonderful man who had changed their lives so much. Jen declined her turn and pushed Lance's legs apart further and ran her tongue over the shaven sack. Lance sucked his breath in and held it, as Rachel dropped her mouth over his cock and sucked it hard. Jen took his sensitive balls and laved her tongue around them. They worked him that way for a while longer and then Jen started to tongue his puckered anus and worked her tongue inside. This was all Lance could take of the girl's work on him and he grunted and thrust his cock into Rachel's mouth and felt his ejaculation surge from his balls and race it's course to his cockhead. Feeling the surge, Jen released her tongue from his ass and Rachel and her licked the head, as it spurted the thick, creamy semen to them. They licked and shared the treat until Lance collapsed back and panted hard. They squeezed their fingers up the shaft, drawing every drop out of him. Once satisfied there was nothing left, they worked back up his body and lay beside him. In unison, they kissed his cheeks and were given kisses back in a show of love. Once he was ready, Lance rose and got off the bed, moving to the wing-back chair in the corner. 

*************************

"That was incredible. I'm glad you took care of me first, I don't think I'd last watching you two. Speaking of which, Jen, I'd love to see you work some of that magic on Rachel now."

"Ready Mistress? I'm going to make you so happy. And before we start, I just want to thank you again for what you've done. To me and for your wonderful mind, coming up with a way for us to be together."

*************************

Rachel lay back and positioned herself so Jen could service her. Even though her corset was still on, her pussy was laid bare to her. With her legs spread widely, a thin film of wetness coated the inner lips, indicating she was excited by her sharing of Lance's cock with Jen. She didn't get involved with someone who paid for her services to Dom someone, although contact with the sub was usually made in one form or another, depending on the person's wishes for her to do it. Now she was getting involved on a personal level and although she felt an uncomfortableness, she relished the idea of contact with someone who cared about her feelings. 

Jen moved down and positioned her face above the Dom/friend's exposed sex and smiled up at her. She lowered her face and slid her arms around the smooth skinned thighs. Her hands came over and her fingers rested against the smooth labial folds and parted them, exposing a moist and brightly pink centre. Rachel closed her eyes and waited for the instant of contact of Jen's tongue. 

The moment was upon her within the span of a heartbeat and the warm breath wafted over her clit and then a warm, wet tongue slowly licked her from the juncture of her lower lips, gouging deeply inside like a shovel scooping a load and then grazing the nub of her clit, just starting to peek out from it's security blanket. Again and again the tongue lapped more and more fluid from her and she was as obliging of the tongue's need to taste her. Jen loved the smell, taste and feel of another woman's pussy. It was just as satisfying as a man's cock and there was no difference to her in the gender of who she was pleasing, it was the satisfaction of the pleasure given that made her happy. With a born knowledge of the parts, she lapped and licked, nibbled and bit, sucked and hummed her joy of pleasing Rachel, desiring only to succeed in bringing complete satisfaction to her. Lance watched intently as his lover pleasured his new friend. In part, his excitement came from fantasies realized and in part, a lesson in pleasuring a woman, as women know how to do. 

In a moment of lust, he rose and knelt behind Jen and started to emulate her actions. He had his first taste of Jen's wetness, still flowing freely, long after her orgasms had subsided, but the stimulation of her pleasing Rachel re-instated the excitement in her. He tasted her sweet, tangy essence and sucked it in, pulling the engorged labia with it. Jen moaned her acceptance and pushed back into him. She enveloped her mouth over Rachel's pulsing mound and did everything she knew to it. Rachel responded by twisting her fingers into Jen's hair and locked her in place. Lance took hold of Jen's ass cheeks and locked himself to her as well. Caught between the two, Jen felt as much pleasure coming from her tongue, as she did from Lance's. 




The Bonding Party



NOTE: This is a meta-fantasy. All distinctions between imagination and reality have been erased...

This story is itself at the center of this story, for when I emailed it to Amy it unleashed a chain of events that rival the classic time-travel paradox. At some point, we lost track of where the story ended and tonight's experience began -- but in any case it is best not to worry about such details and instead savor the magic of the events that are taking place.

Somehow, I knew this would not be a normal night. I arrived here this evening, pedaling numbly toward Amy's house after an all-day crossing of Lake Michigan in stiff, chill winds. In the dark, I depended entirely on satellite navigation coordinates, and pressed on toward the distant line of shorelights long after I would normally have dropped anchor and paid my penance for poor planning by taking an uncomfortable cramped bivouac on the water. By the time I dragged the boat onto the beach, I was fried.

I had called via cellular from about 10 miles out, and Amy seemed uncertain -- as if this short-notice visit was coming at a bad time. I offered to camp on the beach and wait until morning, but she said "no, no... I want to see you.... no way am I going to let you camp out there on the beach when you could be sleeping with me instead! It's just that, well, tonight... ah, no, never mind, it'll be fine. Just come ahead. See you soon!" And she hung up. She had seemed uneasy, but at the same time there was a lilt in her voice, a hint of a tease. With renewed energy, not knowing what to expect but intrigued in any case, I pushed west, lulled into fantasy by the susurration of water against the hull and the insistent whir of my pedal-powered drive train.

So there I was, less than two hours ago, hauling my little trimaran onto the sand, setting security, and unloading the night's essentials. I clambered unsteadily up the ragged bank with the aid of night-vision goggles, and started across the dewy expanse of lawn.

Movement. In the window. I stopped abruptly.

My first thought was that Amy had a date and that I was about to intrude, but no... this looked more like a party. But not just any party: at first glance, I could see no men... and the mode of dress seemed not just casual, but clothing-optional!

I stepped a little closer to the house, staying well outside the fringe of stray light, knelt in the grass, and pulled out my pocket binoculars. What I saw caused such an abrupt physiological reaction that I had trouble holding them steady....

There were beautiful women everywhere. Some nude, in or near the hot tub, were engrossed in conversation or sipping wine. One, flawless and sparkling with smiles, reclined casually on the couch, her legs askew, wrapped in a towel and chatting with another whose bare back was to me. From my vantage point the towel was of no consequence -- I was gazing at a two perfect cheeks and the damp mystery between them. Here and there were others, chatting, giggling, moving about in languid sexiness. My heart leapt as a lanky blonde emerged from the tub and bent, flashing me intimately, to towel dry her long slender legs.

This was magnificent, but what to do? From earlier communication with Amy I knew this was her night of bonding with the women's group... so wouldn't my arrival be disruptive? I briefly thought of retreating to play the voyeur, camp on the beach, and masturbate to sleep -- but she had nixed that idea; I considered announcing my arrival via the cellular phone, but that would take all the fun out of knocking on the door. Willing away the beginnings of an erection, I picked up my pack and continued toward the house. Now... should I go around front... or boldly penetrate the party at it's delicious center?

Feigning confidence, I walked across the patio and tapped on the glass door. There was a sudden hush, a general stir, a couple of shrieks. One woman in the hot tub stared at me wide-eyed, obviously aware that I had been watching and trying to cover her breasts with a hand still holding a wine glass. I winced at the sudden thought that I was not the most savory sight: I had just spent about 10 hours sweating profusely in the cold lake wind, and felt like a wild-haired madman bursting in upon a party of fragrant women. Someone yelled for Amy.

"It's OK!" I heard her shout, "it's Steve!" A moment later she appeared at the door in a sarong and welcomed me with a hug... a brief one, given my condition. "I bet you'd like a shower before you meet my friends," she observed diplomatically. Already she was escorting me past the curious eyes of a dozen intriguing women (now carefully covered) and upstairs to the bath. Wrinkling her nose in mock disgust, she winked, grinned, and tossed me a towel. "See you soon!" she said, and the promise in her voice tightened my pants...

I emerged scrubbed and healthy, dressed in light yellow shorts and a soft polypro shirt. By now you had all discussed the implications of a male suddenly appearing in your midst, and when I walked into the room all eyes were upon me (many, I observed with delight, lingering on my long muscular legs, displayed rather deliberately through my choice of these loose unlined shorts). The looks were not furtive, but open and appraising. Strength in numbers? Not very successfully, I again tried to will away my arousal, but it has been a long time... to my blushing embarrassment and a gentle chorus of soft giggles, my shorts swelled rapidly to became a tent...

"I'm, uh, Steve--" I began, trying in vain to think of garbage cans, trailer linkages, my mother's orchid greenhouse, astrophysics... anything to cool the intense rush of pleasure that was creeping through my loins. But the body would hear none of it. Alive and energized from a life of heavy exercise, freshly showered, and at the center of a fragrant universe of feminine beauty with all eyes upon me... there was no way to calm myself. My voice quavering and sounding quite unlike mine, I managed to mumble something about it being nice to be here and I hope I'm not disrupting the party and boy, it sure is a big lake out there, and then Theresa interrupted me.

"Looks like you're getting some great exercise," she cooed softly. "Can I feel your quads?" I nodded weakly.

She walked over to the center of the room and knelt before me, eyes on my tent, and ran soft hands up and down my legs. Soon I felt another pair of hands from behind, and then another, and another... and I lost count. My legs were covered with hands kneading, squeezing, tickling, stroking... and these inconsequential shorts were no barrier to the exploratory caresses that ventured higher... touching rigid flesh and lingering gently amidst soft hair. Dizzy, I felt as if I were about to collapse into this writhing sea of beauty: the pleasure, almost orgasmic, washed over me and rendered me helpless. Closing my eyes, I seemed airborne on thermals of delicate feminine breath, buoyed aloft on pure bliss.

At this moment, I became yours...

Someone had the idea of removing the shorts, and a moment later my arms were lifted over my head to enable the passage of my shirt. Now you were all involved, some standing, some kneeling, one sitting directly under me, and 26 hands were upon me. I felt a slippery rush and realized that someone had poured massage oil onto my shoulders.... it trickled down my body in 13 warm rivulets, each eagerly seized upon by a different woman and lovingly spread in overlapping circles. My entire body felt like a giant throbbing 76-inch penis, engulfed in a perfect hot vagina, swirling and pulsing, gripping and sucking, vibrating and gliding -- urging me on to a cosmic orgasm...

Abruptly, it stopped. As one, you all released me and retreated to chairs, couches, and floor, leaving me standing dizzy and throbbing, naked, in the center of the room. I blinked, confused, and started toward my discarded clothes.

"No." Someone said. "Stay there."

I stopped and waited, looking around in awe. My erection bobbed and twitched, synchronous with my heartbeat. My skin gleamed with oil. And all around me you were undressing, baring your sweet secrets, adding yet another level of passion to an erotic event already of epic proportion. Breasts from the small and hard-nippled to the buoyant and pillowy popped from bras and bathrobes, 13 intriguing thatches of pubic hair emerged to draw my eye to and fro, bodies in the infinite variety of female beauty lay bare before me... all around unfolded a fantasy. Here and there I saw a moistened fingertip tease a nipple -- a hand dropping to caress hungry wet flesh. Any one of you could have easily enchanted me alone, but in concert... this is the culmination of my sex life, the ultimate erotic experience.

"Touch yourself, Steve. Make love to us. All of us at once."

Moving dreamlike I dropped to my knees and complied. I drew my fingernails lightly over my chest, gasping as they touched the tiny erect nipples, and lingered there, moving in circles. My cock throbbed, straining for each of you, hungrily devoured by your eyes. All around me now, you were touching yourselves, the sounds a chorus of soft whimpers and moans. Slippery with oil, I dropped my hand to stroke myself, slowly, wanting this to last for hours. All in unison, we urged ourselves gently toward mutual cataclysm, fingers moving in synch, plunging between swollen lips, vibrating on erect clitorises, swallowing the rock-hard flesh at the center. It was true... I was really making love with all of you, inside each of you, rising toward the exultation of perfect bliss on an impossibly intense scale: this was not making love times 13 but making love to the 13th POWER. I was almost afraid of the intensity of the approaching orgasm and tried briefly to hold back... but it was no use. This, like the ocean, was much larger than I was.

I don't know how it is possible to lock eyes with 13 lovers simultaneously, but that's how it felt. Perhaps I replicated myself and plunged inside each of you for that magic moment, or perhaps I closed my eyes. But when it began I had no choice but to give myself over to it. A tingling in my extremities, a rush of current through my body core. Lightheaded ecstasy. I think my lips parted and a long moan issued forth; I know I was covered in waves of goosebumps. I was vaguely conscious of cries of orgasm all around me, legs quivering, bodies flushed and rigid, hands pressed tight into fragrant mounds of pulsing, swollen, delicious, throbbing, wet vaginal flesh.

And then I poured myself into you, each of you, hot waves of pleasure converging between my legs to explode into the room in a succession of powerful jets. Timeless. Relentless. The orgasm was nuclear, from deep within my core, and lasted so long I had a moment of panic just before the room vignetted to a single point of bright light and then winked out.

I collapsed.

Time passed.

A warm hand on my belly, another behind my head. A glass of water at my lips, cool liquid dribbling down my neck. I was raised and helped to this chair. Someone handed me a White Russian. You all flickered into focus, sitting around smiling enigmatically, responding to my questioning gaze with innocently raised eyebrows and soft chuckles.

And that brings us to this moment. The evening is yet young. Now what do you want to do?