Soon both of us were sweating and panting and bucking into each other. We cum; hard, we're shaking and moaning until she collapses on top of me and roll to lie down next to me.
We just lay next to each other like that for quite a while; stroking each other and savoring the intensity and sensuality of the moment until we get up and to go back to the Jacuzzi with weak, shaky legs and down the remainder of our drinks.
In the next few weeks it became clear that we could please each other more than what the men in our lives could. Neither of us would ever become lesbian, but we'll never be straight again.
The End.
Gratitude
After a lovely evening out on the town, we head back to your place. Once you close the door behind us, you step behind me, sweep my hair aside, and kiss my neck gently. Then you say, "You know, I had a nice time tonight, but there were a few things that could be improved."
"Oh?" I say. "What do you mean?"
"Why don't you go back to the bedroom and wait for me, and I'll explain more."
I head back to your room, puzzled as to what you want to talk about. I sit quietly on the corner of the bed waiting for you, and you enter the room and shut the door, a freshly-popped bottle of champagne and a champagne flute in hand. You pour a glass of champagne, place it on the table, and ask, "Do you want that?"
I look at you, puzzled, and say, "OK, sure, yeah, I suppose, if you don't."
"Well, then, take it," you say, looking down at me from beside the bed.
"OK, thanks," I say, hesitantly. There's something about your expression that concerns me, but I can't quite figure it out. I hold the glass, but don't drink from it.
"This actually perfectly illustrates the problem," you say, sitting next to me. You pull off your shoes and socks, and put them to the side. You slip one arm around me, gently squeezing the swell of my hip with one hand and taking the glass with the other, setting it back on the table.
"What do you...?"
"Don't talk. Stand up and take off your dress. And the shoes."
Eyes wide, face serious, I stand up and comply. Under my simple black dress, all I was wearing is a lacy black cincher, and now, after removing the dress and the shoes, it is all I am wearing period.
You look me up and down, point to the floor in front of you, and say, "Down," in a flat, ominous tone.
I kneel in front of you, and fold my arms behind my back, looking down at the floor. You place your fingertips under my chin and tip my face back so that I am looking in your eyes.
"I think, in light of our relationship, you should show me more respect."
I knit my brows together and take in a breath, and you move your fingers in a subtle motion so that they are no longer under my chin, but instead pressing lightly on my throat.
"Don't speak. I'll tell you when you can speak. You'll get your chance."
I settle again, nod once, and swallow nervously, feeling my pulse fluttering against your fingers pressed into my soft skin.
"Now, I know part of our deal is that when we are out and about, we are discreet about the fact that you are my little fucktoy," you say, squeezing down again on my throat to emphasize the last word. "But I want to know that you always remember."
I press my lips together, desperate to say something, but also eager to obey you. But even though I am upset and uncertain about what is happening, your tone and my position in-between your legs is also incredibly arousing, and I can feel a moist heat rising from my pussy. I can also feel my nipples rising and becoming erect as you continue to talk.
"You shouldn't be so casual with me when I do nice things for you when we are out, and fuck you the way you like it when we are in. You should show me you know how lucky you are! So, in the future... you don't say 'thanks,' you say 'thank you,' understand? And you don't say 'yeah,' you say 'yes.' You need to make that a habit."
You reach over, grab the glass off the nightstand, and take a sip of champagne.
"Now, I've read somewhere that it takes 21 days to make a new habit stick. I don't want to wait that long... but I do like that number. So, to help you remember how much you owe me... you're going to practice thanking me. And the way you are going to do that is by taking my cock all the way down your throat, as far as it will go... I'm not going to push or anything, but I want you to gag yourself with it. And then, when you gag, you can pull back, and you'll say "Thank you" and add in any other thing you want to say about how grateful you are for my cock and my lessons in how to respect me. "
You take another sip, look down at me smiling, and say, "I'll even count for you."
You put the glass down again, stand so that your crotch is inches from my face, and undo your pants. You slide the pants and your underwear down, and then sit back on the bed, leaving your clothes in a pile where I am kneeling. Using your foot, you sweep them out of the way. Your fat cock is fully erect, as turned on by my subservience and obvious arousal as my pussy is by your growling voice and stern demands.
"You can start now," you say. "Make sure to keep your hands folded behind your back. All you are going to be right now is a throat to fuck and a mouth to say what I want you to say. Ungrateful little bitches don't get to use their hands. And keep your eyes on my face."
I rise up and take your cock in my mouth, tasting the salt and musk of your skin. The width of it stretches my mouth wide, and I want to just suck it and lick it, but I know that's not enough. I take a deep breath and force myself down until my throat spasms.
"That was one," you say. "Now, thank me for it."
"Thank you for buying me drinks tonight. Thank. You."
You laugh at the emphasis on the words, and say, "Continue."
"Two."
"Thank you for teaching me manners."
"Three."
"Thank you for helping me be less of a bitch."
"Four."
"Thank you for having such a delicious cock."
"Five."
"Thank you for making me so hot."
"Try again. Sluts like you always want to fuck. What does that have to do with this situation? Be specific," you say, smirking down at me.
"Thank you for making me so hot by letting me have your cock in my throat."
"Better," you say, and I lean forward again...
"Six."
"Thank you for letting me gag myself on your beautiful cock," I say, breathlessly, and then lean back in to take you into my throat again.
"Seven. Remember the point of this."
"Thank you for teaching me gratitude."
"Eight."
"Thank you for stretching my throat so I can please you better."
"Nine."
I open my mouth to speak, but I'm struggling to catch my breath. You look at me appraisingly, and take the glass off the nightstand and offer me a drink by holding it close to my lips. I drink the cold, bubbly fluid down eagerly, and pause to catch my breath.
"Thank you for being better to me than I deserve."
You laugh at that, and say, "You can continue when you're ready."
I take a deep breath and begin again.
"Ten."
"Thank you for keeping my mouth full of delicious cock so I can't say anything rude."
"Eleven."
"Thank you for the cum that you've let me have from your cock."
"Twelve."
"Thank you for telling me that I wasn't doing what you wanted."
"Thirteen."
"Thank you for letting me do this to myself. It's harder. Better."
At this, you motion for me to stop before I can get your cock in my mouth again, and take my nipples in-between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. They are achingly hard, and I can feel my pussy contract as you begin to twist and pinch the delicate pink nubs. They are already slick with drool from my mouth since I've deep-throating you and gagging myself, so they glisten and shake as you play with them. I am dangerously close to an orgasm, both from my debasement in front of you, and from the amazing sensation
of your hands twisting and punishing my breasts. You notice my flush and my increased breathing, and stop, laughing.
"You've got a lot of making up to do before you get to cum. Don't you dare."
Inadvertently, I allow my lip to pout out and you laugh again, saying, "Don't make me have to give you lessons about pouting, too. Continue."
This time, I try to take you in further than any of the previous times, an effort that brings tears to my eyes. I come up for air sputtering and blinking.
"Fourteen."
"Thank you for not letting me get away with anything."
"You're welcome, my darling little toy," you say, wiping away a stray tear with your finger. You are much closer to being a grateful little bitch now, aren't you?"
"Yes," I say, and smile, going down again.
"Fifteen."
"Thank you for your patience in teaching me."
"Sixteen."
"Thank you for the times when you've let me suck on your beautiful balls, which are attached to your lovely cock, which I am very grateful for."
"Seventeen."
"Thank you for all the times you've cum on and in me."
I smile, and continue, a slick streak running down my body from chin to pussy.
"Eighteen."
"Thank you for not being afraid to treat me like the slut I am. I've craved that for the longest time."
"Nineteen."
"Thank you for letting me practice swallowing all of your big cock, so one day I can suck your cock and lick your balls at the same time."
You laugh at this, and say, "That will be impressive, but you're a good little cocksucker, so it might happen. Continue."
"Twenty."
"Thank you for encouraging me to be the best slut I can be for you."
"Twenty-one."
"Thank you for teaching me that I can gag myself on a cock and love it."
"You're welcome," you say, stroking your cock and looking down at me, smiling. I know I look like a mess with my tear-streaked make-up and spit-covered tits, but you look at me with naked lust anyway. "Now I am going to teach you to say 'yes.'"
The End.
Pattie, Bound to Please
It was in the third week of our 'relationship,' when we realised it just was not working out.
We had spent our first week together fixing up the cellar, installing the equipment and then the finishing touches like the mood lighting in red green and blue as well as yellow and clear neon, all controlled remotely from a digital handset that controlled the CCTV and door locks and also operated various vibrators and toys as well if you could remember the codes. Pattie was surprisingly good with electronics, and then it was done, tastefully finished in dungeon like blacks and greens, and she moved into the dungeon. 24/7.
We had rules, she stayed in the cellar area, it had a bathroom with shower, Microwave, Computer, a few blankets, a refrigerator, exercise bicycle, weights, rowing machine, everything she needed.
She was normally chained loosely, clothes were forbidden but she had an emergency set in case of fire and the chains had quick release cuffs just in case, but otherwise she was my own private fuckslut and never set foot outside her dungeon.
That evening I came home from work, prepared her meal brought it down to the dungeon for her and went back to the kitchen where I ate my Chicken Curry ready meal wishing that I could go back to the days before Pattie became my own live in sex slave and I could go back to pub meals and getting home drunk at ten thirty.
I then reflected how much easier it now was to get laid and after a quick shower it was play time.
I remember we were in the cellar by the big wheel just along from the stocks, when it happened, just by the wall rings where she had been chained earlier, and everything glowed orange in the red glow of the mood lighting and Pattie shuddered gently as tied her hands and feet to the wheel with soft red ropes before I started to add the blue body ropes for a Japanese Hog Tie.
I passed the rope round under her soft but shapely breasts five times and tied it off and then took the rope around her left breast three times and asked her, "How's that?" I asked.
"Nng!" she said and nodded, so I tied it off and wound the other end around her right breast, round three times and tie off, then checked it was not too tight.
"Nng," she said past her gag and nodded before I even asked.
She was tied to the iron bound rim of the specially constructed wooden wheel, essentially a wagon wheel, six feet nine in diameter, her hands and feet tied to a spoke each and her neck to a further spoke, carefully bound with thick blue cord, firm enough to hold her but not too tight to mark or hurt her.
It was almost second nature now, I could do it on automatic pilot and so there I was entirely dressed in black leather with my semi hard tool hanging out tying my gorgeous house slave to the fuck wheel and I was thinking about pub grub and car insurance.
She offered no resistance indeed Pattie had helped me install the wheel and the stocks during our first week together, cementing the huge tilting boss assembly in place that first day and then helping me manhandle the wheel into place. My bespoke spoked BDSM wheel, it cost a fortune, the boss assembly on a pedestal which was fully adjustable from horizontal to vertical, came from California, the wheel from a wagon restoration firm near Cromer, and a firm of builders did most of the preparation but obviously not the installation, that was down to Pattie and me.
I looked at Pattie, she looked out disinterestedly through the eye holes in her black latex hood so to et a reaction I turned her around so she was head down with the wheel axis slightly off the horizontal but not much.
She was naked as ever apart from her black latex hood but tonight she had forgotten to take off her crucifix, she wasn't allowed to wear it but she had taken to wearing it despite me or perhaps to spite me.
"Hey," I said as I reached out to remove it, "That could get caught in something."
She rolled her eyes, the hood hid her long golden hair and with eye nose and mouth holes it completely hid her features, which was a shame for she really was beautiful, though the mouth ring built into the hood made fucking her face delightfully easy.
The car insurance jingle went through my mind again, damn it!
I changed the mood lighting to green on the handset and set the vibrator in her ass to medium, or would have done if I could have remembered the code.
"Is the ass vibro 87 or 67?" I asked.
She nodded.
"Which?" I demanded as I pulled the ball gag away from her mouth hole and the ring holding her mouth open.
"Thwicksty sleven," she explained, "Ooooohh,"
Damn, I had set it on full, "Sorry," I apologised as I slowed it down.
Bloody hell I'm supposed to be the master, I fumed, my tool shrank again, maybe it was too cold in the dungeon, maybe leather pants with the front cut away wasn't ideal.
The wheel was great except for BJs and that's what I needed as the hub height was set up for screwing obviously she had to be horizontal to line her mouth up with my tool and that meant her head was sideways, less than ideal but I twizzled her around and spragged the wheel horizontal and just sort of fed my semi into her mouth hole.
She snorted, "Huck," she said.
It was the final straw, "Oh damn you!" I snapped, "What the hell are you playing at?"
"Hee!" she squealed, "Hor hot hart!"
"What!" I demanded and I peeled her hood off wrenching the ring gag fitting from her mouth quite brutally.
"You're not even hard!" she protested.
"Sorry," I said.
"What the hell good is sorry!" she said, "You know," she snapped angrily, "I've had enough!"
"Really?" I agreed, "You've had enough, well that makes two, that's you and me both!"
"You're tired of me already?" she asked incredulously.
"Yes, if you must know," I agreed, "Yes I'm bored!" I agreed.
"What really?" she asked in stunned disbelief, "Bored already?"
"Absolut
ely, lets call it a day, knock it on the head," I suggested, "Forget the whole thing, the deal's off!"
"But you promised!" she said, "I do a gap year as your slave and you fund my masters."
I pulled the sprag lever and turned her head down.
"You're upside down," she said and giggled, suddenly she seemed very appealing, vulnerable and girly without the mask.
"Can I kiss you?" I asked, "Do you think?"
"I can't stop you," she said.
"Physically," I asked, "If I lie full length, can we kiss mouth to mouth but opposite ways up?"
"Try it?" she suggested
I tried, "Ohhh its cold!" I complained as my tool touched the cold flagstone floor of the cellar.
"Don't be such a baby!" she exclaimed, "Come closer."
I took her face in my hands and kissed her mouth, it was surreal, she was upside down, we kissed and straight away my tool reared.
"You're hard," she said, I went to pull away, "No stay kiss me, rub your cock on the floor until you cum."
"What?" I gasped.
"You heard," she said, "Kiss me, it's nice."
"I'm not rubbing myself until I cum!" I protested.
"Go on, do it for me, just wank yourself against the cold hard stone until you spurt," she said, "Please, pretty please," and she giggled.
I kissed her lips again and almost immediately her tongue invaded my mouth, I started to tongue wrestle her and my tool really strained and the tip rubbed on the cold hard stone a strange feeling so different to sinking deep in side her and feeling the tingling of her ass vibro coursing through her cunt walls and then quite suddenly I was cumming, I felt so angry with myself.
"Gosh," she said, "That looks really weird."
"What?" I asked.
"Well seeing you upside down is a bit non standard," I explained.
"My head is throbbing," she said, "And the vibro feels funny."
"We'll call it a day for now then?" I queried.
"Yes, lets go down the pub," she suggested.
"The deal is you stay in the dungeon and pander to my every sexual need!" I reminded her.
Arousing Family Page 34