Or maybe you don’t. Because what I want to see now is that shaft coming out of your mouth and going up your tight, wet cunt right now. Now! Nownownow! Just fucking do it, get it in, I don’t care if you’re ready for it or not. Don’t ease it in, don’t tease it, just slide it right up there because I want you to feel violated, honey. I want you to feel taken and right out of control. Right up there, until you’re stuffed full, stretched as wide as you can go, and then start fucking yourself with it. Just do it, and I know I don’t have to worry that you aren’t wet enough because you’re fucking soaked.
Say, “Yes,” honey. Your mouth isn’t full of cock now.
Say it again. “Yes.”
Say it again. “Yes.” Say it every stroke.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”
“YesyesyesYES!”
“Yes, oh yes, oh my fucking god, yes, please YES!”
Do it fucking harder, do it slutty, make it raw, make it hurt. In and out and in and out and thrust your hips up to get it deeper. Take it to the hilt, to your womb, and feel your clit swell up in response. Grunt and groan and wiggle on it, wriggle on it. Degrade yourself with it, display yourself, release yourself, reduce yourself to a screaming ball of flesh and sex. This isn’t about foreplay, this isn’t about romance, this is about deep depravity. Show me you’re the hottest bitch in the world. Put yourself on show, get my attention, take my attention, make it impossible for me to look anywhere other than at you, at your body, at what you’re doing to yourself, and to me. Make it so that wherever I go, whatever I do, I’ll be unable to forget this moment, unable to get the image of this wanton sex vixen spreading herself, fucking herself, debasing herself for me. Give me a show so hot no other woman can hope to compete, give me everything, utterly. Oh yes, honey. Fuck your hot little pussy for me, clench it down, squeeze it tight, gasp and moan and show me how good it’s going to feel when I get into your cunt. Show me you can do it better than anyone. Show me that for me you have no limits.
Fucking do it, and know that you’re burning yourself into my brain with this, know that I will never forget this moment as long as I live. Feel my eyes on you, on your body, on your open, spread cunt. Can you feel my arousal, boiling now in the flame of your sex? Remember how hard my cock was a second ago, forcing your lips apart? It’s harder now, honey. Oh yeah, spread your cunt for me, lick your fingers and rub your clit. Get your fingers slippery and then lick them clean, slow and sexy. Yeah that’s right. Make it good for me. Now get your fingers slippery again and smear your face with your juices. Show me what a dirty girl you are. Slick them up again and smear your tits. Do it again. Coat yourself in sex. Fuck, you’re such a hot slut. My hot slut. You are so mine, you’re mine everywhere, aren’t you, slut? Aren’t you, bitch?
Yes, you are mine, everywhere. You know what’s coming next, honey. Slide that slippery shaft out of your wide stretched pussy and slide it down, down between your round, ripe ass cheeks. Feel the thrill as the tip slides over your tight little rosebud. Oh yes, honey. You’re mine everywhere. So push it now, gently, firmly, steadily, rhythmically. Oh yeah, open up your secret hole for me. Push it in, so deep and hard, opening you right up. I’m going to watch you violate your ass. Get it it, and once it's in, get it moving in and out. Fuck, that’s hot, I can see your cunt contract every time you push in. Do it, do it, do it. In, out, in, out, in, in, IN!
And yes, honey, I know it’s uncomfortable, and yes, honey, I know it’s degrading and yes, honey, that’s exactly why I’m making you do it, because I want you uncomfortable and I want you degraded because I want all of you, even this part. I want to know there’s nothing you won’t do for me. I want to know that I can have you anytime, anywhere, any way I want, and every way I want. Get it in honey, get it in deeper, you know I want it. Get it in honey, get it in hard.
Oh fuck, yes. I just love the expression on your face when it goes in deeper, mingled pain and pleasure and most of all surrender, sweet surrender. Every woman has defences, she has to, but yours are gone now, washed away as you display for me, as you sodomize yourself for me, as you do your level best to show me that no other woman can possibly be what you’re willing to be for me. Deeper honey, I want to see it all the way in, driven right up your tight little rectum. I want to see you struggle to take it all. Yeah, you're my everything now, my sweet-sucking slut, my easy, sleazy, eager beaver, my hot little anal whore. Fucking do it. And I don’t have to ask if this is turning you on, I can see it in the rigid pulse of your clit, in the cunt-contractions that happen every time that shaft goes in. You need to be assfucked now, so say it.
“Yes sir, I need to be assfucked."
Say it again, honey.
"Yes sir, I need to be assfucked."
And oh yes, that's good to hear, that gets my cock so hard. But I'm not sure I believe you, honey, so it until you've convinced me it's true.
Yes sir, please fuck my tight little ass.”
Say it until you've convinced yourself.
“Yes sir, please sir I need it so bad. Yes sir, please sir, please let me please you. Please let me show you how good it will be, and please sir, please, please fuck my tight little ass.”
And yeah, you want it, you need to feel it, feel my cock violating you over and over again. You want, you need, you crave the feeling, the hot wet gush of my sperm deep, deep inside. You need to feel me to claim your very soul as my stiff shaft swells, as it stiffens until you think you’re going to be torn in half. Yeah, you want that, and you would come in a heartbeat if I let you. You know you have to have permission, right, honey? You know those are the rules. So come on, honey, convince me you need to come.
“Yes sir, I need to come.”
Fuck it.
“Please sir, let me come with your cock up my ass.”
Fuck it hard.
“Please sir, I’m so hot for you.”
Take it deep.
“Please sir, I’m your little anal slut. I’m being so good for you. Please sir, look at me assfuck myself just to turn you on. Please sir, I need it so bad, I’m such a dirty girl for you.”
Fucking do it, hard and fast.
“Please sir, I’m yours, completely yours. Take me, fuck me, hurt me, do anything you want to me, but please, please, please let me come for you.”
Oh yeah, honey, I love watching you like this, watching your eyes get desperate for it. Rub your clit honey. Rub it hard, and keep on fucking your ass. Fuck, I love the way you can’t help but hump it. Fuck, I love the way you grovel and beg with your body. Fuck, I love having you like this.
And you love it too, don’t you honey? You love being my degraded little slut, you love going where no other woman would go.
“Yes sir, I love it. Yes sir, thank you, sir, for making me be your dirty little anal slut.”
And yes honey, now you can come. Now you can finally get your fingers going on your hot little clit, on your spread and juicy cunt, you can rub it hard and fast while the overwhelming urge to release builds up in your body. See how tight your nipples have gotten, aching, pointing, swollen on their own. More to the point, see how deeply your mind is engaged, see how completely I’ve swept you up in this rawest of raw sex acts, see how completely I’ve carried you away. You’re mine, completely mine and that building orgasm is your physical signature on that basic fact. So do it, honey. Climaxfor me, give me your body the way I’ve taken your mind. Do it hard, make it slutty, make it intense, make it impossible for me to look away and just fucking do it. Do it fucking hard and fucking deep, scream it, pump it, make it, take it,
Oh yes. Fuck, you make me so hard.
Bike Girl II
Ninja Girl holds my gaze, and I am captivated like a cobra facing a mongoose, all my lethal self-assuredness drained by the sight of my nemesis. Another woman is standing behind a counter, black hair, black corset, pale skin, with an ankh hanging from a black leather necklace between her breasts. Her face looks fragile, but her body is lithe and muscular.
“Who are you with?�
�� The pale girl is the doorkeeper, her question is casual, standard, but she’s serious about it.
“I’m…” I want to lie, to get in to this suddenly fascinating place. Except I have no lie to tell, I’m not with anyone, and I’m not going to be admitted, and the fantasy that had started to weave itself around Ninja Girl and her riding crop dissolves.
“She’s with me.” Ninja Girl’s eyes hold mine as she comes to my rescue. She wants to ensnare me in something deeper and I feel my face flush at the prospect.
“Okay.” The doorkeeper sits down and my saviour, my captor beckons me over.
“Give her your jacket.” She motions to the girl behind the coat check, this one in a black miniskirt, black fishnets with red high heels and a black bra, nothing else. I feel a rush of arousal flood through my system. I’ve heard about places like this. I’ve never been to one.
“But I’m not wearing anything...”
“Give her your jacket.” Her tone is calm, commanding. Wordlessly I unzip my jacket, expose my naked breasts. I hesitate a moment, my heart pounding, while her eyes burn into mine. I surrender, look down, shrug the jacket off and hand it across the counter, standing there half naked. The girl gives me a claim check that I have nowhere to put. Ninja Girl takes it, the symbolism lost on neither of us, and suddenly my pulse is pounding in my temples. My nipples have risen in the sudden coolness, and my excitement with them. All at once I want nothing more than for this anonymous stranger to kiss me, but she doesn’t. I feel a stab of rejection, and the desire shifts, to have her grab my vulnerable, exposed nipples and twist, to have her slap me across the face, to have her grab my hair and force me to the dirty floor. That little mind-flip probably means something deep about me, and in it a good therapist might find the deeper reasons behind my moonlight rides and the violent sex that they boil up from my soul.
Except there’s no therapist here, though Ninja Girl might yet excise my possessing demons. My eyes slide down from hers, it doesn’t seem to be my place to meet her gaze. Instead I focus on the tip of her riding crop, black and menacing, a symbol of power. I find myself wishing she’d just use it on me now and spare me the suspense, but she doesn’t do any of the things my twisted little mind desires her to do. Instead she turns and goes down the stairs. I hesitate but follow her. The stairs are long, and the music grows louder as we descend. At the bottom is a door, and a short corridor, and another door, and behind it…
Behind it is decadence. The room is dark, dim lit with neon squiggles of red and blue. Three couples fuck on a wrestling mat, bodies intertwined, undulating like sex crazed snakes, glistening slick with sprayed-on oil. Beyond them a naked woman is locked in a set of stocks, her mouth gagged open, a mechanized, flywheel driven phallus driving into her from behind, deep, powerful, rhythmic. It glistens with her juices, obscenely distending her cunt with every penetration, and her eyes are rolled back in her head, caught between anguish and nirvana. There’s a dance floor full of grinding bodies in various stages between leather and naked, and some of them are fucking, too. A redhead with a whip sits spread-legged in a throne-like chair while a blonde kneels submissively between her thighs, lapping at her cunt with adoration in her eyes. My head swims and I feel faint, the rush of my pulse now loud enough to compete with the driving beat.
“Here.” Ninja Girl points to a padded bench. Three women kneel there already. They’re blindfolded, their lips are parted, their fingers are interlaced at the back of their necks. They look like they’ve been waiting awhile, and their expressions are strangely serene in this anything-but-relaxing environment.
I kneel beside them and lace my fingers in the back of my own neck. The motion raises and presents my breasts, and I wait for the blindfold. Ninja Girl gestures with the riding crop, and hands appear from behind me to take away my vision. The world disappears into darkness, and my other senses heighten to compensate. The pounding beat fills my head, but I can suddenly feel the body heat of the women next to me, I catch the raw scent of female arousal. I sense the movement of people in front of me, behind me. A hand touches my breast and I start, but I don’t move from my imposed position. The hand explores, weighing my flesh, testing my firmness, squeezing my nipples to test their responsiveness. I’m proud of my breasts, firm and high set as they are, and this intimate examination is somehow both degrading and exalting.
And it’s certainly arousing. My breathing gets short and my clit stiffens as I wet the already soaked crotch of my leathers one more time. My mind drifts away, surrendering to the anonymous hands, though I know somehow it is Ninja Girl who is touching me.
The hands go away and I wait for a timeless time, so long that I begin to worry that my husband will wonder where I’ve gone. I should call him. I should stop just to let him know that I’m still alive, but I find myself unable to unlace my hands, unable to get up. I remember the peaceful look on the other women’s faces and I realize that my own expression must now be similar, my lips parted, an expression of calm resignation on my pretty features. I feel that way, and yet beneath that my heart races like my bike at top revs. My cunt drips steadily, split by my leathers in this position, my nipples stiffen until they hurt, but I don’t move, I barely even breathe. My arousal is like the invisible bubbles built up in a bottle of chilled champagne, giving no clue to the pressure contained until it explodes in frothy ecstasy at its uncorking. I want to be uncorked, I want to explode for Ninja Girl, yield myself up to her, give her everything until I am consumed, drained, and if she then casts me aside like an empty bottle, I will accept that as my natural fate. I want the realization of all my throbbing Harley fantasies, I want to be sacrificed at last to the swollen full moon. I want everything, and yet I’m not even sure what everything will mean here. I realize in that vision I don’t even know her name. Time passes and my arms grow sore from their position, and then my knees, and then my back, and yet still I don’t want it to end.
Eventually the music stops. Voices rise, then fade, silence. I wait, aware of the breathing of the women next to me. Someone moves, and then I feel hands, once more on my breasts, tweaking the nipples hard enough to hurt, hard enough to make me gasp, and then they move to my leather riding pants, undo the belt, undo the zipper, slide them down over my hips.
The hands probe at my cunt, parting my labia with sure, strong movements, peeling back the hood from my rigid clit. I can feel rubber gloves on them, and that only fires my imagination, and the clinical distance they add to the process increases my humiliation. The hands cup my buttocks and squeeze, hard, then part them expose my anus. A finger slick with my own juices finds it, slides in, violating me with casual ease. The tight muscle contracts reflexively, and my clit jumps as my heart rate spikes. Some distant part of my mind wonders at how easily I have been objectified, intimately, impersonally inspected by a total stranger I haven’t even seen. And yet that same part of my mind understands exactly why this is happening, how this reality fits exactly with my dark, violent fantasy life. I have been needing this for a long time, and now, by accident or fate, I have it.
Reflexively I moan and push back against the invading finger, opening myself to its systematic degradation. Too soon it’s withdrawn. I hear the rustle and snap as whoever is wearing the rubber gloves removes them, and perhaps puts on another pair. More sounds come from beside me, a feminine whimper, a gasp, a moan.
We are being tested, my nameless sisters and I. My suspicion is confirmed when a male voice says. “This one.”
“Of course,” answers Ninja Girl. The male voice was deep, resonant, calm, casual, as if accustomed to being presented with a line of eager sluts. Ninja Girl’s response supports the idea that this is true. But which one is this one? I dare to hope that it might be me, though I have no idea what being chosen will mean. Excitement still shoots through me, engorging my cunt anew, tightening my nipples to still harder erection, stiffening my clit. And then someone puts their head close to mine, lips grazing my ear, breath hot against my neck. “Do you want more?”
The voice is barely a whisper, but I recognize Ninja Girl, and it’s like she was reading my mind.
I try to answer but my words catch in my throat. I manage to nod my head. Yes.
Her hands find my chin, pull my jaw open, and something goes into my mouth, forcing it open. Straps buckle around the back of my head, holding it in place. I taste rubber, explore with my tongue, find a rubber coated ring holding my jaw wide. It’s big enough around to accept quite a sizeable cock, if someone chooses to use me that way. It’s big enough around that my jaw aches under the strain already. The hands move on, and a stiff, heavy collar is buckled around my neck. My wrists are cuffed behind me, and my riding pants stripped the rest of the way off. A rope is run from the wrist cuffs to the floor, attached there somehow, and tightened, pulling my shoulders back and pushing my breasts out and up. I have become a sexual package, ready to be express delivered to my new owner.
“She needs to be broken.” The voice is the man’s, and a thrill of sudden rebellion shoots through me. No, I don’t need to be broken!
“Of course,” Ninja Girl replies.
I try to protest but the ring gag renders intelligible speech impossible. Trussed as I am I can’t even struggle, and suddenly I’m afraid. Despite my harsh fantasies, my experience of sex has always been loving and gentle. I don’t need to be broken. I don’t want it.
The Secret Journey Page 13