AUTHOR = emma_sub
E-MAIL = em_sub@hotmail.com
| EDITOR's NOTE - Part one of this story can be found at: Part 1. |
Knelt in the underground car park. Kissed the collar. Accepted it. Bent over, knickers around my knees. I heard a car door close. Mouth dry. His hard cock opened me, controlled me. My cunt was not dry. A car drove away, without me seeing it. Being rutted. His hard flesh deep in me. I loved it. Whispered pleas. Refused. Desperate.
"Who decides upon your pleasure?"
"You. You do."
Having me accept my role. Wearing the collar. My body bursting for release. His. Enjoying him, his use of me. Almost as good. Deeper somehow. Being driven to the house. Proud of the slipperiness of his semen at the junction of my thighs.
Hot for him all evening. He wouldn't allow me to orgasm. Had me use my mouth and hands all over him, though not to his climax either. His eyes, hands and mouth had been on and off me constantly. Playing my body like a violin. Taut. Desperate. Nearing the point when I would not be able to stop myself to orgasm at his touch. Tremors constantly running through my body. Loving it. Not realising things could be like this.
Made me get KY jelly from a drawer. Didn't need it. My cunt dribbling. Smelt obviously on heat. Told to kneel on the bed, on knees and elbows. Now. Take me now. Had to anoint my own bottom hole with the jelly. No! Please no! Terrified. Shaking. I begged him. He told me that I needn't do it. I could use the code. End the submission. Unable to do either. Unable to move. Tears of frustration in my eyes. Felt his hand gently cup my sex. Desperate. Felt his finger on my bottom. On that personal place. Began to cry. Knew I was going to submit.
Came behind me. Cock hard. Clasped my hands together on my back. Breasts and face forced into the bed. Widened me by rubbing jelly around and around the ring of my bottom. Gasping. He would allow me to come when he was inside me. I knew it would never give me a climax. I knew. My tight virgin rear.
Told to push back. I did. Tried to relax. So tight. Wanting desperately to please him. Slowly, gently pressed. Almost hurting too much, just bearable. Thought about the words. Red? No! Had to please him. Stretched so wide! Tried to relax. Slid inside. The pain! It gradually diffused as he held still. No one had ever done this to me! He slowly, oh so slowly, slid deeper. It seemed to go on forever. So full. Felt the pressure against my vagina. So stretched. Almost splitting. He pushed a little further. A little more. I stiffened suddenly. Then it passed. He had his cock in my arse! Then slowly withdrawing. Stuffed full of cock again. Feeling so full! Slowly in and out. Gradually increasing the speed. In and out of me he made use of me. I couldn't believe what was happening. Could feel the heaviness of my cunt gaping open. He could do to me what he wanted. He was doing. I wanted him to. I wanted him to possess me in every way he wanted. Wanted him to enjoy me. Suddenly spasms ran up my vagina. Again.
I came! Cunt pulsed and spurted. With his cock up my arse! Gripping him tight. Struggled and thrashed. He held me. Still impaled. Couldn't believe it! I had come. Cock up my arse! I was so dirty. Oh God! Such a slut. A cock filling up my arse. Being buggered. The idea excited me. I was enjoying it! He could make me enjoy anything! He could make me do anything! Told to feel myself, inside. Felt his pushing cock through the thin membrane of my insides with my fingers. Almost touching. As he fucked me up my arse. Palm on my clit. Felt him come in me. So grateful that he had come. Waves washed over me. Over and over they kept coming. Semen dribbled out of me, down my thigh when he pulled from me.
We lay in the bath together. Hot soapy water. Arms around me. Confessed sheepishly that I had enjoyed it. Couldn't believe I had. Laying with my back against his stomach sparing my blushes. He whispered in my ear that he would use me again like that for his pleasure. I thought of it as his fingers tormented my breasts. Thought of him buggering me as he had me climax. Water splashed onto the floor.
I had orgasmed again without permission. I had to be disciplined again. I was looking forward to it! I deserved it. He should punish me. Over his thighs again. My deflowered rear stung. He could tell. He slapped harder but slowed it all down. Smacking me harder. The sound louder. In short bursts, between touching up my fanny. The smacks hurt. Made me cry. I sobbed. I deserved it. He was punishing me. The excitement came. Expecting it, this time I could just hold it. Not allowed to orgasm. The pain and the intense arousal blurred. My body shaking in need. Granted permission.
Afterwards, I was made to kneel on a low-backed padded chair. Kneeling on the edge with my chest on the soft back. He had me cross my arms behind me. It left me feeling deliciously vulnerable, my breasts hanging down against the insistent itch of the fabric; my buttocks and sex thrust back and open. He put cream on me. He put cream all around my used anal ring. It was embarrassing. It made me know that he owned even that part of me too. He slipped a finger in deeply, then another. It stretched me again. He fingered me there as he would my cunt. It felt humiliating. I was embarrassed as I lewdly thrust back against his fingers. It was good, it was wicked. I was grunting like a slut. I wanted him to take me there again. I wanted him to. I wanted him to use me, make me feel so wicked. Release my need.
Morning. In the kitchen I was naked. He wore a thin robe. The telephone.
"Hello.... Oh hello.... Yes, of course.... When...? Well, I think so.... It will be the first time.... Yes.... Fine.... Yes.... See you then. Bye."
My mouth and hands at his cock and balls as he spoke.
He sat. I had to stand by his side. His cock showing, hard and glistening. Open my legs. Show myself to him. Made to keep my eyes open. One hand pressing above and outside me on my mound, opening me. Showing him my sex. Told me to play with myself. His cock hard. Oh God I couldn't. It was so humiliating. I couldn't.
"Please. Please," I whimpered. My vagina pulsed. His hand slapped the inside of my thigh. "Oh yes. Oh yes." I had to. He was making me.
I bent my knees outwards. My fingers parted my lips. I sawed them quickly over my clit. I was made to slow down. He wanted to see. I was almost crying with shame. I was so wet. So very wet. Made to push two fingers into me, as far as they would go. For him to see. Stood rocking as he appraised me. Then in and out. Over my clit. In and out. Over my clit. Slowly. The slurping disgusting. My hand dripping. No dignity left. Tiny noises from my throat.
He made me throw a leg across his. Astride him. On my toes. Hands behind me. He lifted his cock so that the purple knob was in my slit. Then it was just inside me. Just. I hadn't to move. I wanted it all. I wanted to be taken. He played with my breasts. Loud noises now, sobs of frustration. My breathing all over the place. I was high, trying to keep still, trying not to push down on what I needed. My legs screaming in agony. Hands allowed to hold his shoulders.
"I want to see you come in a minute." Oh yes. Thank God. "I want you to slowly sink down on me. Slowly. And then I want you to come."
"Yes. Yes. Thank you. Thank you."
I felt his thickness stretch me as I sank as slowly as I could. Feeling him filling me with his burning flesh. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. So full. So good. I felt his hairs, then his body. I screamed as I rubbed myself up and down him frantically. My head swung back and forth. He had to hold me, I had no control. He thrust up into me furiously. My body jerking all over. My breasts thrown up and down. His cock powering in and out until I felt like a rag doll.
When he finished I sobbed my love and gratitude into his neck. Exhausted astride my master.
I cooked breakfast. Thankfully was allowed an apron as I cooked bacon and eggs for him. He looked so good in his cotton robe. His thigh and chest showing. Afterwards, I sat passive for him as he fed me. I was ravenous.
In his arms. We talked softly. About our contentment with each other. My surprise. Our relationship. My responses. Enjoying his use of me so much. Finding myself always so ready. Tongue-tied, yet I was concerned that he realised that I didn't say what I thought he wished to hear. Looking up at him as I lay and spoke, my body sore and tired as it was, still pushed up to him, offering. I didn't know the road but I wanted to be shown. I trusted him. He allowed me to be immoral. He made me immoral. He made me feel special and safe. I wanted to please him. I'd do whatever he wanted.
Told to lie on the kitchen table. Felt his dominance. Feet beside my buttocks. Rope tied wrist to ankle, ankle to table leg. Spread wide, defenseless. Unable to move. It felt wonderful. So dreadful not being allowed to come. Kissed, nibbled, bit my breasts. Over and over. Licked my stomach, thighs. My pulpy mound. I was so frustrated for him. Bucking in my bonds. Back to my breasts.
"Please. Please." Moving around the little I could.
"You want to come?"
"Yes. Yes. But it's not just that. It doesn't feel right. You down there. Pleasuring me." Tears. Didn't know why.
"Am I not allowed to kiss your cunt?"
"Yes. No. But... I should be... Oh.... Please. Do what you want."
"I am doing."
"On my cunt. On my clit. Please."
"Where?"
"On my cunt. On my clit. On my cunt. Nobody has ever kissed me there before."
"No one? Ever?" Incredulous.
"No. I've always been embarrassed to ask. Nobody ever offered."
"They don't know what they've missed. Whose cunt is it anyway? Who owns that cunt?"
"You do. You do. It's your cunt. It's all yours."
"Yes. If I want to taste you I will. And this?" A searching finger slid between my buttocks.
"Yes. That's yours too."
"For what?"
"To bugger!"
He used his mouth on me. Sucked my clit. Licked it. Ate me. Made me thrash about on the table. Keeping me on the brink for what seemed like hours. Unable to stop him. Loving the feeling of being so helpless. The pleasure and frustration building and building. It was wonderful. He must have drowned in my juices. Thankfully I was allowed a wild climax.
On our journey to my flat we stopped again. At the wood. I wondered if we would be watched. Same place. About the same time. Pulled off all my clothes. Stood naked. He made me pleasure him. Astride him as he sat. Move my body up and down on him as he roughly fondled my breasts. Yes. A figure in the trees. Secretly watching again. I loudly begged release. To be allowed to climax on his big cock. Displaying my wickedness to the man watching. Crying it to the trees.
A couple of days later I was telephoned by his P.A. to meet him at his office. Found the building. Receptionist, young, bored, trying to look smart. Up the lift, found his PA. Thirty-ish, attractive, controlled, quality clothes, expensive perfume. I hated her. Asked me to sit for a moment. She disappeared through to the inner sanctum. She reappeared with Michael. He smiled at her. Called her Gwen. Returned. Ushered me through. Smelt the warmth of her as I brushed past. Closed the door behind me. With me now.
He rose, didn't come around his desk to kiss me. Told to kneel. In his office! I kissed the collar and accepted its feeling of safety. Fear. Excitement. Nipples tightening. Smiling, he contemplated me in silence. Relaxed a little at the smile. Tension in my stomach. He spoke softly. Undress. Instruction.
Stood by an empty chair before him. Removed my jacket. Laid it on the desk. My blouse. Fingers fighting buttons. Never really undressed like this for him before. Clothes off quickly often in the past. Looking up before slipping it off my shoulders. Raised eyebrows. Feeling strangely embarrassed as I removed it. Placed it with my jacket. It was almost the afternoon! Proud of my bra. Feeling breasts swelling. Sitting passive. Then hands behind me. Unclipped. Again needing to appeal with my eyes. Same response. Letting the bra drop from me into my hands. Under his gaze. Nipples hard, up-pointed. Breasts, rising and falling as my breathing shortened, beginning to flush. On display now. Again. In his office! I was his.
Skirt. Zipper. Button. Feeling the lining slide down my thighs. Long past the point of no return. Stepping out. Feeling like a pin-up. Proud. Another addition to the pile of clothes on the desk. Had he fucked anyone on that desk? Thumbs inside the elastic, drawing down. Pulling them away from the stickiness at my crotch. Stepping out. Smelling my arousal. The stockings to stay. The hold-ups emphasising my nakedness. My mound thrusting, my damp pubic hair stuck to me. Standing. Hands held behind me. Collar warm. He smiled and nodded his appreciation. Pride. He came over and fastened leather cuffs around my wrists.
Told not to move or speak whatever he did. Unless told to. Asked if I understood. Nodded. He buzzed his PA, Gwen! Told her to come in!! Panic! Wanted to cover myself. Couldn't. Desperately forcing myself to do as Michael had told me. Silently pleading. Closed my eyes. Opened them. Looking at the carpet. Making soft noises. Shaking. Really shaking. Breasts moving. She stood by Michael looking at me. Could tell that she was appraising me. Looking at my naked body. In his office! She said something I didn't catch. They laughed softly. Intimate.
This was something new. In the past there had always been just the vague possibility of someone coming across us, like in the woods. Seeing my body, his use of me. Just a chance. It created anticipation, an edge. This was different. Like me in the shoe shop! This was his intention. I was being brazenly displayed. By him. My body. His control. My submission. As I began to understand my shaking ceased and I became aware of my arousal increasing.
She left the room. He came around the desk. Opened my legs. Explored my flesh in his palm. Sank fingers deep within me. Making me dance on them.
"That is very nice. You're very wet." He sounded proud of me! I nodded. Guiltily. "Gwen says that you look beautifully flushed. She wondered if it was because of her or me." She'd seen my arousal, it must have been obvious. "Did you enjoy me flaunting you to her? Showing those pretty tits to her? Showing her your fanny? This willing cunt to her?"
His fingers used me, keeping me in need. Falling against him, naked, as I whimpered and grunted. He tormented my breasts. Until they were sore. On that strange pain/pleasure divide. He wanted to see me needing. Oh I did.
He took his pleasure in me over the desk. It was wonderful. From behind. Thrusting hard into my cunt. He felt huge. The surface cold on my burning breasts. Saliva and sweat on the wood. His hard hot flesh spearing in and out of me. Possessed. My body welcoming. Permission. As the fireworks exploded I idly wondered if the intercom was still on.
Afterwards, Gwen returned. Standing, my body now displaying the use to which it had been put. My labia feeling bloated and sticky, breasts reddened. Her eyes like fingers over me. Half proud, half ashamed. She stroked my cheek. Touched the collar. My shoulders moved my breasts. I wondered if she would touch them. She didn't.
She took me to a lavatory at the back of the room. Suggested that I wipe myself. Stood in the door. Told me to hurry as I sat waiting for her to go. I had to do it as she watched.
Allowed to dress. In front of them. Fastened my bra. Breasts felt larger after being fucked. Blouse. Pulled up my knickers.
"I can see that she gets off on display."
I wanted to curl up and die.
"She's learning. Things may come out later. She's been punished. Spanking. Actually climaxed with it. She likes some humiliation, bondage, loves the giving up of power."
Talking about me as if I wasn't there. How far did he expect me to go? I was juicing again.
"Has she potential?"
I shyly fastened my skirt. Body pulsing softly.
"Oh yes. No question." There was pride in his voice.
Tears welled in my eyes.
We met socially of course. Weekdays. He took me out. Without the collar. To dinner, cinema, theatre. Began to meet his friends. He made me laugh, was an amusing, caring and handsome man to be with. I realised that he genuinely found me attractive too, physically and otherwise. We acted like normal lovers in a normal vanilla relationship. I could flirt and tease, appear demanding and could be loud. It may not have been realised by those around us, however, that I always knew he was my absolute monarch. We caressed and fondled but it never went further on these occasions.
He fulfilled me. I had stopped masturbating when alone. I only wanted to orgasm for him. He thought about me, thought about what was best for me. However, as the working week drew to a close I was taut with excitement. His mastery of me. The fear and thrill of how he dictated my exhibitionism to him, of the unexpected, of being wicked. His use and enjoyment of my body. The release more extravagantly physical when allowed. I was happy to accept my sexual fulfillment, or lack of it, was subservient to his will. I wanted him to enjoy me, that was so important to me now. I strangely became far more confident, my self-esteem grew stronger. Now that I had the freedom of Michael taking over the responsibility for the wildness of my sexuality from me I could relax. I enjoyed the knowledge that he was training that wildness, stretching my limits. Gradually having me do a little more than I had ever considered I could or would, previously. Life before Michael was a vague, tasteless memory.
On the way to his house he stopped the car. He placed a blindfold on me. I sat passive until he was satisfied with its fit. I felt my nipples hardened. We continued on our way. I couldn't see. I felt every bounce of my breasts, every sigh in my throat was loud in my ears. People may be able to see, I realised. I held the sides of the seat and tried not to squirm. Felt my breasts tighten in my bra. He helped me out and led me to the door. As he had walked around the car I suddenly panicked, we could be anywhere! The drive felt the same. The step. The smell of the house. I relaxed.
In the hall he stopped. Took off my jacket. Put my back against the wall. Hands moving automatically now to beside my face. Legs parted. I waited for him. I didn't know where he was. Breathing all over the place due to the blindfold. He was there again. He did something to my skirt. Pulling it forward. He was cutting it! Scissors cut through the material until I felt the cold metal against my stomach. It dropped at my feet. He cut through the top I was wearing. The metal grazing me. Cut the arms so it dropped too. I was frightened. He cut through the straps on my bra. Cut through the front. Cut my knickers off. I was trembling. I couldn't see. He pressed the cool metal to my hard nipples, the outsides of my labia.
His fingers sank deeply into me. A grunt from me. Sucked my juices from him. Waited. Heard him undressing. Made to open wider still. His cock sank into me. Filling me. So hot. So commanding. My vagina spasmed around him. Wanted him to enjoy me. He fucked me in my darkness. Fucked me so well. My breasts bounced, cunt squelched and clutched at his cock. I was eager to please him, my body was eager to please him.
He led me to the bedroom, semen trickling down my leg. Put over his naked thigh. His cock sticky against my thigh.
"I'm going to punish you. Do you know why?"
"No. No, Master." It felt good saying that.
"Because I want to. Is that sufficient reason?"
"Yes. Of course, Master."
He didn't caress. He just spanked. Slowly. Building up. I sobbed loudly. It built and built. The need for release came.
"God, you're a slut, aren't you? Your cunt is always the wettest I've ever known! You want to come from being spanked, don't you?"
"Oh yes, Master. Oh please, Master."
"Yes, alright, I want you to show me how that cunt of yours can really come."
It wasn't a considered act. My body just obeyed his words. My cunt spurted. I came loudly. I began to cry. The idea that he might not be there to let me have pleasure was so scary. I needed him so much. We were both wet with my leakage. He came again in my mouth.
Saturday afternoon. In Michael's kitchen making coffee. Doorbell rang. Froze. Wide eyes at Michael. Wearing only a slip. My nipples pushing through the material. The slip resting just past my sex. Wearing my collar. Told to carry on. He answers the door. Another man in the kitchen too. Rob. Jeans, squat, ponytail. I'm not dressed. Friend of Michael. A photographer. Felt heat on my face. Tried hard not to cover myself with my hands. His eyes explored me obviously. Drinking coffee. I've been fucked on this table where he has his coffee. His eyes hungry on my body. Looked at my breasts, up my legs. Face burning. He knew I was Michael's. I began to feel proud of what he looked at. They chatted and laughed. Suddenly found out that he was there to photograph me. Michael wanted it done. Some nude. I would be naked before another man now! The boy saw me. A little of me. Gwen saw me fully. The man in the woods. Now another man. My chest tight. The list growing.
Everything set up in the curtained lounge. Lights, reflectors, cameras. Stomach fluttering. Michael gave me a glass of wine. Sat on the sofa. Changed into silk top and underwear. Suspenders and stockings and stilettos. G-string, thin bra. The hardness of my nipples obvious. I checked the collar. Michael sat watching in the shadows. Rob looked at me closely. All over my body.
Standing. Kneeling. My top to go. Different positions constantly. Nipples very obvious through my bra. Felt naked already. Stomach ached. Rob grinned hungrily at me. I was hot. Sat again. Held my breasts. Straps lowered. Bra off. Told to play with my breasts. Knelt on the floor. Breathing shallow. Breasts hung. Displayed pale buttocks between the dark suspender belt and stockings to the men, the camera. Tight material deep within my crease. The photographs were rude, dirty. Rob would see them as he develops them. Others might see them. Skin burning.
On my back on the sofa. Legs thrust out. Bulging mound. Hands to go inside my knickers. Wetness. Fingers touched myself. Rob and Michael watched. Eyes caressed. Being so disgusting for them to see. I was so wet. Dragging knickers down eagerly now. Smell of sex. Exhibited myself openly. No need for direction then. Displayed my naked tits and cunt. Offered myself to the men, the camera. Almost coming. Michael made me take a break. My breathing erratic. Photographs of my face. I drink some more wine. In Michael's arms, secure. Rob reloads.
My top and knickers back on. Michael sat on a chair. I stood. I was to be punished. Draped myself over his knees. Top pulled high. My knickers pulled halfway down thighs. I struggled to help. Felt Michael's cock hard. Opened my thighs within the tight knickers. The humiliation singing in my ears. Rob watching. My hands fastened behind me. Hot. Michael began to spank me. I wanted it. Pushed up to it. Needing. Squirming under the smacks. Being watched. The heat rapidly built in my bottom. My cunt bloated between my thighs. Smacks. Being watched. Whimpered. Smacks. Tears on my cheeks. Such a slut. Heat in my cunt. Sobbed. Grunted. Tried to hold back. I was allowed. It burst in me. My cunt sprayed again as I came. Someone was watching. I exploded.
On my knees. Seem to have missed some time. Michael began to fuck me. Realised he's naked. Against my tender bottom. Cock filled me, stretched me, possessed, slid in and out of me. Wanted to make it good. I wanted it to be as good for him. Wondered if we're being photographed. He lifted my head up. A purple head, veins. It vibrated in the air inches from my face. Another cock before my face. Darker skin. Smelt its masculinity. I touched it, confused. Hard and hot in my hand, alive. I pulled on it. It came nearer. It touched my face and I opened for it. Abandoned. Two cocks inside me, using me, possessing me. Spun out of control.
I thrashed wildly. I flew in a tornado. Pinned between two cocks. Two cocks fucking me at once. Two cocks. I slid between orgasm and awareness, back and forth. Semen all over my face and body. So tired. Someone removed my stockings, covers me.
Later, Michael woke me. Evening. We went out for dinner. We walked to a cosy Italian. Wearing my casual long summer frock. Allowed a thong. Michael in cream trousers and shirt. Not knowing whether to mention earlier. If he decided to abandon me he would have a reason. Desperate to be with him. Not knowing what to say. He seemed happy with me. In a good mood. Amusing, flirty.
"You should look good in the photos." Just slipped into the conversation. Felt my eyes widen as I looked at him. Scared. "I'm proud of your body." Breath escaped from me. "You look angelically virginal yet totally sluttish. All at the same time." Scarlet. He carried on eating. My stomach incapable of taking in food. "Rob enjoyed your mouth. You enjoyed having his cock too, didn't you?"
"I... I...." Eventually I nodded to the table. Hiding as much as I could behind my hair. My mouth dry.
"He'd have had more if I had let him."
"Why didn't you!? Don't you want me for yourself!?" Anger flared in me.
"You'll be punished for that later."
"I'm sorry." Looking at the table realising what I'd done.
"Should I keep the sight of your body to myself too?" He laughed. "No, you enjoy that, don't you? I wouldn't have you expose your body if it was ugly, would I? No, I'm proud of it. Don't I want you for myself? Of course I do! You know, can tell. I wouldn't offer you to others if I wasn't proud of you, didn't feel your body wasn't an ideal gift for others to enjoy for a while. I do not have to be the only one. Do you wear my collar?"
"Yes!"
"Do you submit to me?"
"Yes!"
"And you knew it even when you had another man's cock in your mouth."
"Yes."
Desperately wanting him to believe me as I looked into his eyes. I looked at Michael. He knew. He knew me before I did.
"You will know it, whatever I allow someone else to see or do."
"Yes."
Disconcerted. Excited. Ashamed. Aroused. He had shown me that he was in charge of me. Had me acknowledge that he could and would have me display myself, that he could use and offer my body. He was proud of me! I knew that I would carry out his requirements, as was his due. I would make him even more proud, and I would enjoy it too.
I admitted to him about the person in the wood.
In the woods, our special wood, he sat at the bench. I spied our voyeur as I took off my jacket, naked underneath. Lay across Michael's knees. Skirt pulled up, knickers down, and he spanked me. Had known he would. Spanked while being watched. Made to push high. Made to part myself. Smacks sounding very loud in the small clearing. My submission. My sobs. My cries. The display. The excitement. The pain. Both of them mixing until I could barely stand that amazing sexual tension he gave me. Told to climax. No caressing but it didn't stop my orgasm being loud in the clearing too.
Thighs and crotch wet with the juices that now seemed to spurt at every orgasm. So hot. Half naked, had to walk toward the person hidden in the trees. The air pleasantly cool on my breasts, whilst my buttocks tingled. I stopped.
"Would you like to come and join us? Please. We won't harm you."
The figure disappeared. I called out again. Eventually I walked back towards Michael. Heard something. Turned. The figure standing in the open.
A female figure! A girl! I'd always presumed it would be a man. At least a boy. Wanking as he watched. A girl! A ponytail of dark hair. Black cotton peasant pants, baggy shirt, black trainers. A girl. Young. Pretty.
"You were watching us," Michael said.
"Yes. It is a public place. You weren't hidden."
"We won't hurt you. We don't mind."
"Why did you beat your girlfriend?" Curiosity. "You normally shag her."
"Why don't you ask her?"
She cocked her head at me. Questioning.
"I asked him to."
"What do you mean? Do you like being beaten?" Incredulous.
"Sometimes. Sometimes I deserve it."
"Like now? Why?"
"Because I didn't tell him that you watched us. Don't you think it was appropriate to be punished in front of you?"
"But why should you tell him? You didn't need to."
"Yes I did. I belong to him."
"What!? You belong to him? You mean he tells you what to do? I can't imagine.... All the time?" Her eyes wide.
"Well, at least sexually."
She stared at me for a long while then seemed to decide that it wasn't worth asking me questions. "Is that why you came here? To beat her? For me to see? Were you going to shag her as well?"
"Yes. To them all."
"Knowing I would be watching?"
"Yes."
Now she stared at Michael for a long while. In contemplation. She came nearer. "Can I watch. From here?" Her voice betraying her.
Michael turned me to face her fully. "Would you remove her skirt?"
We all stood still. She considered whether she wished to take a more active part. For an age. Stood behind me. The perfume of soap. Stepped out of the ring of cloth at my feet. She stared at my body. My skin appearing luminous in the half light. She looked me all over.
"Will you lead her over to the bench?" Michael not bothering to watch. "She should lay there. I'll fuck her there for you to watch."
Waiting. Took my arm delicately. With fingertips. She led me. This girl. Taller than me. Faced her. Looked into her eyes for a moment. She was excited, her eyes sparkling, yet strangely surprised. Not by us, perhaps by herself.
After everything I needed to be taken by him. Being outside, spanked, naked, exhibiting myself. Sat on the edge facing her. Cool, rough wood against my tender skin. Lay back along its length. Hips just over the edge. Deliberately spread my legs. Let her eyes in. Wanton, wanting, as she looked. I wanted to come!
Michael naked. He moved her gently to the side of me. He knelt at my sacrificial flesh. His cock opened me. Standing, she moved her head to be able to fully see him possess me. Would have seen his iron flesh enter my lubricated opening. Impaled on him. Arching my body up to him. She knelt. Almost reverence in her eyes. Michael took her hand. Rubbed it over my tits. It hovered there.
"I ..." Then she began to tentatively explore and test. Took her other hand. To our joining. Watching and feeling. He began to fuck me. Slowly at first. Her hand on my mound. Electric storms filled me. Took me off in them. She was kissing me. My open mouth. A girl was kissing me! Her hand on my face as she kissed. Another squeezed my pulpy flesh around him as he pumped. Able to scream silently into her laughing mouth. Neither allowing me to stop.
Afterwards, Michael offered me his beautiful maleness to suck on. Offered it to me. Not her. I wondered if one day I could ever accept that. Not tonight. Her eyes continued to enjoy me. From a long way away I saw her fingers touch the semen flowing from me. From the clouds heard the conversation.
"She's beautiful."
"Yes. She is. A gazelle."
I didn't know whom they spoke of.
"I'd like... I'd like... her to... you know! Make me... give me." Her face was alive with emotion.
"You know she has a master. She told you."
"Yes. Yes." Dejected. Then sudden hope. "But maybe I could help you. A girl I knew once. She had a horse. She let me groom him. I could be useful. Make sure she behaves."
"But staff aren't supposed to use the belongings of the household in which they work." He was grinning.
"She let me ride her horse. Let me ride because I groomed her. It was my reward."
"You put yourself in her power by desiring to ride."
"Yes. But not totally. I wasn't the horse."
They laughed.
"You'd need to think long and hard about what you'll do for your desires."
THE END (not yet) go to Part 3
