Trinkets

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by Lizbeth Dusseau


  “Where are we going?” she asked, when they were in his small sports car, speeding away from the garret, top down, wind blowing through her hair. Such sumptuous freedom.

  “I’m taking you home.”

  “To my apartment?” She was startled.

  “Is that not home?”

  “Well, yes. I suppose it is.” She could hardly mask her disappoint.

  They rode in silence, the sound of the wind making it too difficult to hear each other. Miles was typically silent; and Tessa, realizing that her extended “date” with her Dominant lover was over, didn’t want to talk. She was already missing him, and the garret, the floggers, the whips and his unbridled imagination.

  At her apartment, Miles followed her into the building and crossed the lobby to the elevators where they waited in a fitful silence for the elevator to reach ground level. When the behemoth machine ground to a stop, the doors pulled apart, an impatient Martine ran into them as she was exiting. Her brisk departure interrupted, she looked at the two in amazement.

  “Well, where the hell have you been?” Martine grilled her roommate.

  “This is Miles,” Tessa said. As usual, Martine was wearing black from head to toe. Sometimes she looked like a witch, taking her somber air to the extreme; but today she was quite attractive, in a filmy black skirt and blouse that draped around her small firm frame. Her long hair was tied atop her head like a Gibson girl, with little wisps falling around her face, softening the effect of her stern eyes and tight set jaw.

  “Ah! The dominant,” Martine remarked, taking Miles’ hand in hers and looking him squarely in the eye. She was impressed—and so little impressed the jaded Martine. “You’ve been whipping her butt? She likes that you know?” The three strolled together toward the front door.

  “Yes, I’ve been taking good care of her,” Miles said, pleasantly, with his eyes totally fixed on the forthright Martine.

  It frightened Tessa seeing her lovers standing side by side, though she wasn’t sure yet why the jolt of trepidation flew through her like a Halloween bat.

  “Yes, you do that, Miles Bryce. You take good care of my Tessa,” Martine said, “perhaps you’ll discover what I’ve known about her all along.”

  “And what is that?” Miles inquired.

  “Her sexual greed. There’s nothing she won’t do for her cunt.”

  Miles nodded as if he understood, not once did he take his eyes off the irrepressible woman. “Thank you for your appraisal, I’ll keep that in mind.” He shook her hand familiarly as if he’d known her for some time.

  “Yes, I’m glad we met,” Martine added with a secretive smile, and she was out the door.

  “You’re lovers?” Miles guessed, as he watched the distinctive swish of Martine’s ass. “Sometimes,” Tessa replied.

  “And she knows your sexual tastes. I thought you said you’ve never been whipped. Did you lie to me?”

  “No. I’ve never been whipped, until you. Martine just knows me—or so she thinks. She does enjoy taking advantage of me whenever she likes.”

  “Takes advantage of you—you’re telling me you don’t like making love to her?”

  “It’s rarely what you’d call making love.”

  “So it’s sex. Do you like it?”

  “Of course,” Tessa answered, remembering what turned her on about Martine. “I like that her body is different from a man’s. I like the way she touches me, the way she licks my cunt, and scratches me with her fingernails. It’s just sometimes… her attitude….” She didn’t want to say more.

  “And her attitude is what?”

  She thought a moment before replying, “Overbearing,” the only word that seemed to work.

  Miles eyes lightened mischievously, “You mean Dominant.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “I’m surprised that bothers you,” he said.

  “I know. It doesn’t seem reasonable—considering how much I like you controlling me. But you’re different.” She didn’t want to discuss the matter more, but Miles pressed her.

  “I’d like to see her whip you sometime,” he said, as the moved toward the elevators. “And I will fuck her,” he added.

  Tessa stopped her tracks.

  “That bothers you?” Miles asked.

  “Are you going up with me?” she asked, ignoring the question.

  “No, I’m not going up,” he said. “Now answer my question.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You can have my belt across your ass right here?” He sounded serious.

  Turning toward him like a pouting schoolgirl, she gazed at him, trying to fend off the threatening tears, “You know, you can have any woman you want, why would you suddenly want Martine?”

  “Yes, I can have any woman I want. But that’s not what I asked the question. Tell me, does it bother you that I want Martine?”

  She knew the right answer and the real one, and finally responded with the truth, “Yes, it does.”

  “Good,” he said, “that’s all the more reason for me to have her.” His words were laced with arrogance that she didn’t like. “Where does she work?” he asked.

  “At the museum.”

  “With you?”

  “No, in acquisitions.”

  The elevator, creeping like a ponderous dinosaur, came to a rattling halt once again. As the doors jerked open, Tessa saw it rescuing her from a conversation she wanted ended. Though as she waved to good-bye, she feared that more than just the conversation was finished. It seemed a time of innocence with Miles was ending too. She watched a strangely winsome grin flash across his face, before he disappeared from view, and shivered, suddenly cold as ice.

  ***

  Two days later, Martine came barging into the apartment after work, ready for a major proclamation. She loved the drama of outrageous pronouncement, and this one was high drama indeed—Tessa could tell before she said a word.

  “He came to see me today,” Martine said. Like two darts meant to hurt, her eyes shot through Tessa’s blank, unknowing face.

  “Who?”

  “Your boyfriend, silly.”

  “And what did he want?”

  “To take me out.”

  “Oh. When?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Are you going?”

  “Of course.” She took off her shoes and threw them in a corner. “He’s fascinating, but you already know that, don’t you? The man captivates my roommate, sometime lover, for days, and then turns around and asks me out like it’s no big deal. I love it. What a scoundrel.” Martine retreated to her bedroom, from where Tessa could hear her tearing through her closet. “You got yourself a real bad one this time,” she called out. “I’m really surprised that you’re handling this so calmly,” she added with complete admiration.

  They had a common temperament, she guessed. And strangely, the idea of the two of them together excited her and she couldn’t deny the pleasant sexual churnings in her belly, even if didn’t like that fact.

  Martine returned to the room wearing a pair of leather pants, buttoning her red leather bustier around her breasts. “Besides,” she went on, “the idea of your sitting at home pining for him while we dance the night away… I find that a perfectly shameful, but fitting thing to do. It’ll piss you off, won’t it?”

  “You know, you are really dreadful,” Tessa exclaimed.

  “Oh, I am, I know it.” Martine suddenly changed her look, staring right a Tessa’s crotch with a bewildered expression. “Where’d you get those shorts?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I know they aren’t yours.”

  “Maybe I bought them.”

  “Did you?”

  “No,” she admitted, “Miles gave them to me. She looked down at shorts as if she’d forgotten she had them on.

  “Take them off,” her roommate ordered.

  “Why?”

  “Take them off, I want to see your ass.”

  Tessa looked at her, knowing th
at she could refuse her demand; but as usual, it didn’t seem important to deny Martine her wishes. The command could easily have come from Miles—perhaps he’d told her to inspect her ass. Then, the demand would be as much Miles’ as Martine’s.

  Sighing wearily, Tessa tugged at the waistband of the snug shorts and pushed them over her hips until they dropped to her ankles. Between her thighs, the silky hairs of her pussy gleamed for Martine to see, but this was nothing new.

  “And your shirt, take it off, too. I want to see what he’s done.”

  Why would she ask this? What was the purpose other than the raw eroticism that seemed to have been so deliberate on Martine’s part and tacitly accepted by Tessa. It was obvious, her nakedness and her display of it was exciting them both.

  “Turn around.” Martine couldn’t stop, and Tessa obeyed, showing off her buttocks, and what was left of the bruising cuts. There were still at least a dozen clear spots where the nasty buggy whip had marked her skin, which Martine gazed at, Tessa waiting for a typically critical remark.

  “He got you good, didn’t he?” she finally said admiringly. Tessa nodded. She was becoming damp between her legs. Whether it was the memory of the punishments, or revealing them to someone else, the careful examination was provoking in her a gnawing desire to have sex.

  Her arousal must have been obvious for Martine wasted little time taking her roommate by the hand, and leading her to the couch, where she pushed Tessa belly down, so that her bruised butt was available.

  “Oh, my, perhaps I should have whipped you myself. Stripes like these must have been welts to start.” Martine’s hands massaged the punished bottom, only to find Tessa responding, hips grinding erotically into the couch. “You little slut, this turns you on, doesn’t it?” She stroked the skin, and pinched it where it looked most sore.

  “Ooooo, ouch,” Tessa seethed quietly, though her bottom continued to gyrate—she didn’t want Martine to stop.

  Grabbing a pillow, Martine shoved it under Tessa’s groin so that her rear was bobbing high in the air. Slipping a finger between her ass cheeks, she prodded deep into Tessa’s rear cleft, the prone sub responding, parting her legs and raising her ass, so that her lover had better access to her sex. A single finger pushed against her asshole.

  “Did he fuck you here?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Bet he will.”

  Tessa didn’t reply, the answer were all too obvious.

  “Anyone been inside your ass?” Martine wondered as her finger wiggled beyond the tight rosette.

  “No.”

  The deeper the woman’s finger prodded her, the more Tessa’s whole sex ached. Wiggling against the invading probe, the finger slipped deeper still.

  “You want more, don’t you, you vile little tramp!”

  Tessa could only groan in agreement.

  Pulling away, Martine strolled to a nearby cabinet, pulling out a jar of cream and a dildo: an eight inch long prick, three inches around, which they’d used many times inside their cunts, but never in an ass.

  “Martine, no! It’s too big!” Tessa objected. But that did not deter Martine who was busily greasing the shaft so it would easily slip inside her victim’s virgin anus.

  “It’s as big as he’ll be, I bet. If you can handle him, you can handle this.”

  “Martine!”

  Her pleading was ignored. “Just relax, little tramp, you owe me this. After all, you were mine first.”

  “I was never yours,” Tessa snapped back curtly as she tried to wiggle away.

  “Oh no you don’t.” The stronger Martine planted an arm around Tessa’s waist and held her firmly. With the other hand, she pried apart Tessa’s clenched ass cheeks. “You’d better open up, slut, or I’ll shove it in you, and it’ll hurt like hell.”

  Too horny and too unprepared for a fight, Tessa relinquished any claim on her rear. There was no point in fighting Martine, especially when her body was screaming to have the channel filled with cock; such peculiar feelings were too splendid to give up. Parting her legs, she let Martine’s hand open her wide enough so that the thick shaft of the dildo pressed against her anus. As the head of the dildo, shaped just like the head of a cock, pushed open the tight barrier, her sphincter released slowly. It wasn’t easy.

  “Ouch, that hurts.”

  “Because you’re too tense,” Martine purred in her ear. With just half of the dildo inside, she rolled Tessa on to her side. “Play with your cunt and relax.”

  Tessa’s hand went between her legs, finding the place she loved most to rub, toying with the sensuous folds as Martine pushed the fat prick deeper into her rear channel. After its initial reluctance, the tight place finally gave way completely, so that the eight long inches nestled in her ass. She sighed with relief and began to grind her rear against the invading prick.

  “Ooooo yes…” her voice trailed off.

  Martine began to pump the thick cock in and out of her roommate’s ass.

  “Oh god yes, god yes, do it more,” the fucked girl screamed, as the dildo rammed her ass vigorous thrusts, even as her hands played the clit and juicing hole. “Damn yes. . . please more, Martine, don’t stop. . . ”

  “You bet I won’t,” Martine answered.

  Tessa was weeping, tears of pleasure running down her cheeks, her orgasm rising inside like one fierce clap of thunder rolling through her body. “Aaaarughhhhh, yeeeeesss, yeesssss.” She clenched against the dildo and her own hand—once, twice, a half dozen times more and then fell limp against the bed, exhausted.

  She was aware of nothing until she felt Martine stroking her bottom: her stripes, bruises and violated rear hole. Turning Tessa onto her back, she smiled down on her with a familiar cunning grin of celebration. “You’re so easy, Tessa. The only thing you care about is your cunt, and now of course, your ass.” She hissed the word gleefully. “I was right, wasn’t I? You could take it all. Next time, I’ll strap the dildo on and ram you like a man.”

  Tessa’s eyes were glassy, tearing still. She could hardly think, let alone reply to her scheming lover’s threat.

  “Now,” Martine smirked, slapping Tessa’s thigh with a firm whack. “If he asks, you can tell him that I had your ass first.” Martine stood up, shrugged her off and walked away to get ready for her date.

  Chapter Seven

  Putting the finishing touches on the display, Tessa was behind the glass bending over. Miles saw it all: the tops of her stockings, the garters, and the delicious swell of her upper thighs that would meet at her pussy. Did she realized how she looked?

  He watched her for some time, until she became uneasy, and a little voice inside her head told her to turn around.

  “You bastard!” she mouthed to him, when she saw him on the other side of the glass display front. She motioned him to a side door behind the display, to a storeroom filled with mannequins, props, drapes and novelties still in storage.

  “Are you finished?” he asked.

  “Very close,” she asked him.

  “I want you to pose again?”

  “You mean more time away from the museum?”

  “If it can be arranged?”

  “Only after these displays are finished.”

  “How long will that take?”

  She cocked her head, mused on the thought and guessed, “Three days, maybe?” Her eyebrows knit in consternation. “I’m not really sure.”

  “Three days should do,” Miles said, “I’ll be ready for you then.”

  “Three days for what?”

  “Three days for you to finish here, and three days of preparation.”

  “What kind of preparations?”

  He didn’t answer, but gazed around the storeroom instead. He could make due here with dozens of useful props available. He started, grabbing for a length of rope.

  “Stand still and put your hands behind you.”

  “Here? Right now?” she questioned him.

  “Yes, here. Yes, right now. No one’s going to see us�
�although I’m not sure you wouldn’t like that.”

  Yes, and audience would startling, but certainly not here!

  Tessa turned around and let him bind her hands behind her. “I bet you’ve been waving this nasty backside of yours all day, bending over like that. I wonder who else got to see that fine view?”

  “No one but you,” she assured him.

  “Too bad. Though now that I’m here, I won’t waste a perfect opportunity,” he said. From out of no where, a leather spanker appeared in his hand.

  “What if someone hears?” she asked.

  “You won’t make a sound, Tessa. Besides, this doesn’t strike that loudly, that’s why I chose it.”

  Reaching out to her, he opened her blouse to find her studded breasts without a bra and naked. A sudden flick of his hand and the spanker landed on her right breast and then again on the left.

  “Ooooo…no…” she gasped.

  It wasn’t pain she felt, far from it. Her body begged for her submission; now days since their last time together, she needed this badly. He’d been with Martine the last two nights and she wondered if he still wanted her.

  The spanker snapped against her breasts a half dozen more times each side, until the white flesh was glowing red. Then he came down with the leather on the very tips, where the skin was most tender, and the studs poked through her nipples, where it stung like crazy to have them nipped by the edge of the spanker.

  “Oh, please!” she murmured, her face screwing up into a frightful scowl.

  His slapped her face.

  “You’ll take what I give you, Tessa. Be careful how you protest.”

  Continuing his torment, he worked her tits until they burned. Then, whipping her around, he thrust her over a saw horse conveniently standing just behind her.

  “I should have come here before, it’s inspiring what you have to work with.” He pushed her short skirt to her waist, finding her ass clothed in a thong panty, and garter-belt. He pulled at the thong. “Panties?” he growled. He pulled the thong so hard it hurt, cutting her along the soft flesh it was meant to cover.

  “Please,” she whimpered.

 

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