Manhattan Kink: A Boxed Set

by Serafina Conti

  She towed him along the hallway to the empty slaves’ quarters and led him to the futon next to his. She turned to him with a smile and unbuckled and pulled off his collar. “Take me, Master Gakusha,” she said.

  He pushed her down and fell upon her. She flung her arms around him and kissed him enthusiastically, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.

  “Let me go down on you,” she said.

  Andrew said, “You already did that once today. It’s my turn.”

  She squealed with delight. Andrew slid down till he was lying between her legs. Her labia were puffy, pinkish, and tightly closed, but they parted easily when he spread them with his fingers, revealing her beautiful pink clit and inner folds, which were swelling and shining with her wetness. He flicked her clit lightly with the tip of his tongue. She stirred and sighed, and he dipped deeper into her, savoring her flavor and rich aroma. He’d never seen a pussy this wet—her juices were puddling up and overflowing. He wanted to drown in cunt: he wrapped his arms around her ample thighs, sank his lips into her, and drank deep.

  He stayed between her legs a long time, till he sensed her restlessness, and then he stood up on the futon and said, “Suck me now.” She came to him on her knees, put her hands on the back of his thighs, and sucked his balls, gazing up at him. She licked the length of him and sucked him into her, and he held her ponytail and pulled her to him, wanting to control and possess her, feeling her need to please and wanting to be pleased for her sake. She leaned into him, hands on his knees, and sucked him deeply and wetly.

  She got him a condom and rolled it onto him, and he fucked her face to face, from behind as she knelt, and again as she lay moaning face down on the futon. He lay her on her side and fucked her, and he made her ride him. He took a break to taste her dripping pussy and get sucked, and he fucked her again. He held her down with his hands, lifted her, pushed her, and reveled in the pleasure she took in his control of her body. He pulled out of her and fucked her with his hand till she came in spite of herself, and he put his wet hand in her mouth and fucked her again with savage joy till he came inside her.

  He held her and said, “Stay with me,” and they fell asleep together, arms and legs tangled up. He woke before dawn the next morning and found her pressed against him, knee over his leg. He woke her up and fucked her ass; then they fell asleep again.

  When Inkei came to wake them, Andrew put on his collar and resumed his life as a slave. He had breakfast duty that morning, and then he had to change all the beds, launder the previous day’s sheets, and clean the playroom. He worked more cheerfully than he had the day before.

  At eleven, Mistress Ai summoned him to her in the playroom, where she was sitting alone in the room’s one chair. “Close the door,” she said. He did, and came to stand in front of her.

  “I asked Asoko about your activities last night, and she told me,” she said.

  Andrew flushed. “I hope it was all right, Mistress Ai,” he said.

  “The only problematic part is your becoming a Master for the night,” she said. “But I allow my slaves to play games when they’re not at their tasks, and I can see that it might be fun to play at being a Master for a while. Did you enjoy it?”

  “Yes, Mistress Ai.”

  “So did Asoko,” she said, smiling and picking up a coil of rope from the floor beside her.

  “Are you going to punish me, Mistress Ai?” asked Andrew.

  “No,” she said. “I’m going to prepare you for your return to your beautiful slave, and while doing so, I’m going to amuse myself. Lie on the floor.”

  She bound his legs together and bound his arms to his sides. He was immobilized on his back. He wondered what she was planning to do with him, but knew better than to ask.

  She stood where he could see her and undressed slowly. He’d seen her naked several times before, but always when she was about to play with someone else. The dragon draped over her shoulder looked voracious. He sensed his cock getting hard.

  She stood above him, one dainty foot on either side of his head. He looked up at her: her pubic hair was trimmed into a neat patch, but where she had left it, it was long and straight, and it hid her slit. But she reached down and parted her labia, showing him the delicious pink inside, and said, “Do you like it, Gakusha?”

  “Yes, Mistress Ai,” he said, thinking his cock made the answer obvious.

  “Do you want it?” she asked.

  He thought about that. His desire for her pussy—to lick it, to fuck it—was strong, but the desire to know what she wanted, and to serve her desire, was much stronger.

  “I want to serve you, Mistress Ai,” he said.

  “That’s good,” she said. She let go of herself, and her pubic hair closed over her slit. She took a step back, lifted one naked foot, and placed it on his chest. She massaged his chest and stomach with the sole of her foot, caressed his cock with her toes—the combination of stimulation and mild degradation was exquisite—and finally inserted all the toes of her foot into his mouth. His cock started to throb as he sucked eagerly.

  She stopped and knelt beside him. She ran a finger from the base of his neck down the center of his body to the top of his pubic hair, then back. She touched one nipple lightly, circled it with a fingertip, and then pinched it; she did the same for the other. Then she leaned over and blew softly on the first nipple, then the second. She kissed each of them lightly. He groaned with frustrated desire.

  “Patience, Gakusha,” she said. “How often have you edged your women? And has it ever been done to you? Have you ever done it to yourself?”

  “No, Mistress Ai,” said Andrew.

  “Then this is the last part of your training,” said Mistress Ai. “You can see the clock: it’s eleven fifteen. We’ll continue till noon, and you’ll have your orgasm after that.”

  For the next forty-five minutes she massaged his feet, licked his neck, teased the insides of his thighs, tickled his armpits, blew lightly on his balls, teased the underside of his cock with a finger, rubbed his pre-cum into the head, stroked him with her hand, and sat down on his cock, stimulating herself by sliding the length of it without inserting it in herself. By five minutes to twelve he was begging, “Please, Mistress,” and squirming in his bonds; tears gathered in his eyes.

  She stopped and said, “One of us may have an orgasm, you or I. Which shall it be, Gakusha?”

  Till seconds ago, Andrew had believed he wanted relief from his arousal more than anything, but the thought of Mistress Ai going without an orgasm for his sake terrified him: he couldn’t bear to have a thing when she didn’t have it, or to be responsible for her frustration.

  “You, Mistress Ai,” he said.

  “Thank you, Gakusha,” she said. “I accept your offer of pleasure.” She straddled his head and lowered herself onto him, and he was thrilled licking her neat, delicately flavored pussy, so beautiful in black pubic hair—so different from Mistress Raquel’s raw, primitive cunt. It seemed a huge gift for Mistress Ai to allow him this kind of intimacy with her body. He ate her out with great concentration, wanting to make it wonderful for her, the best orgasm she’d ever had—though he understood how unlikely that was.

  She rode his mouth hard, rocking and sliding, stimulating his lips and tongue, until finally she came with high-pitched, breathy gasps.

  She climbed off him and said, “It’s noon. You’re no longer a slave, Andrew.”

  “Too late for an orgasm,” he said ruefully.

  “Get your orgasm from Emily,” she said. “She’s longing to give you that pleasure, and you can please her by accepting it from her.”

  “Thank you, Mistress Ai,” he said.

  “Just Ai,” she said, “your friend.”

  As they dressed, Andrew wondered if he’d learned anything. He’d tasted drudgery, pain, and frustration. He’d tasted the delightfully wet Asoko, too, the terrifying Raquel, and the sublime Mistress Ai. He longed to taste the beautiful Tosatsu, who’d said, “Come see me some time at Mistress Sh
igemi’s.” But he put all these women out of his mind, and the image of Emily, his own beautiful slave, came to him in their place. His arousal was still painful. He said his goodbyes as quickly as he politely could and hurried home.

  Chapter 6. One web, two flies

  Neko had the number of Muchi, one of the younger Dommes. Muchi didn’t know what had become of Tosatsu, being above that kind of gossip herself, but she thought Keimusho, an older Domme, had mentioned something about it, and gave Neko her number. Keimusho made it pretty obvious that she didn’t welcome a call from the disgraced Neko, even though she herself did what Neko had been fired for, but she grumpily told her that Tosatsu was living for a little while with Mistress Raquel and gave her Raquel’s number. If Tosatsu had a phone of her own, she didn’t know the number.

  The last thing Neko wanted to do was call Raquel, the scariest of the Dominants and the one most likely to taunt her for her recent misfortunes. But she forced herself to do it.

  “Fucking Neko!” Raquel exclaimed. “Only name I can remember in the whole fucking place, and you get your skinny ass fired. How the fuck you manage that?”

  “I don’t know, Raquel. I thought it was like an open secret, what the girls do after hours, but I guess not.”

  “They just don’t want their fucking noses rubbed in it. What do you want with me, Neko? I know everybody says I’m thick with Ai, but I’m not thick enough to get her to take you back, or dumb enough to try.”

  “Actually, I’m calling for Pipit,” said Neko, “but I don’t have her number.”

  “Fucking Pipit,” said Raquel. “Girl with a hundred names. Only grown woman in the city with no fucking phone. What do you want with her?”

  The conversation was taking a worrisome turn. Raquel sounded like she wasn’t sure she was going to let Pipit talk to her.

  “She’s a friend,” said Neko. “I want to know how she’s doing.”

  “Oh, a friend,” said Raquel mockingly. “Let’s see if your friend wants to talk to you.” She held the phone away from her head and called, “Babycunt!”

  “Oh, shit,” said Neko under her breath.

  After a couple of minutes Pipit said, “Hello? Neko?”

  Neko suddenly felt shy. “Hi, Pipit. I’m sorry to bother you. I wanted to know how you were doing.”

  Pipit said, “Oh, thanks. I’m fine. How are you?”

  “Okay,” she said, not feeling okay at all. “I miss my roommate!” she added, trying to sound sunny.

  “I miss you too, Neko,” said Pipit. “You’re the best roommate I ever had.”

  “Yeah,” said Neko. “I thought we were going to be friends.”

  “We are friends, aren’t we?” said Pipit, and something gave a happy little leap inside of Neko. Maybe this was a thing she hadn’t lost yet.

  “I was wondering, would you like to get together sometime? Like lunch or coffee? It’d be great to see you again.”

  Pipit lowered her voice. “I’ll have to ask Daddy. Hang on.”

  In the silence, Neko said, “Oh, fuck.” It was a lot worse than she thought.

  Raquel came on and said, “What the fuck are you up to, Neko? You starting up a whorehouse and recruiting girls? Pipit’s a sweet innocent thing.”

  “She’s a friend, Raquel. That’s all. I miss her and want to see her.”

  “Well, you can come see her here. No telling what you cunts’ll get up to if I don’t keep an eye on you.” They arranged for Neko to come to Raquel’s place the next afternoon at three.

  “Fuck! Shit!” said Neko when she’d hung up the phone. Life was going to be tough for Pipit if Raquel had her claws in her, and Neko had no idea how to rescue her.

  * * *

  Daddy sat quietly on the sofa, thinking, as Pipit sat on the floor at her feet, leafing through a copy of Vogue. It had been a long time since she’d had any nice clothes—Christopher had been the last Master who cared how she dressed, or even let her wear clothing around the house. Frederick and Karen kept her naked most of the time and made her wear shorts, jeans, or plain dresses when she went out.

  So many of the things in Vogue were beautiful! She could afford to buy some nice clothes herself, but when could she shop for them? For that matter, when would she wear them? She’d been with Daddy almost a week and hadn’t gone anywhere by herself the whole time. She wasn’t even allowed to go to a coffee shop with Neko. She wondered if Daddy would ever trust her to go out on her own.

  Daddy pushed down her black pants and said, “Eat me, babycunt.” Pipit got on her hands and knees between Daddy’s legs and started to lick. She spent a lot of each day licking and sucking Daddy’s pussy and ass, and she really liked it, though sometimes she thought Daddy herself didn’t care all that much. It seemed to be a sort of reflex Daddy had, whenever she happened to think of her babycunt.

  “I’ve been thinking about your friend Neko,” said Daddy. “She’s got to have lost a lot of income, getting canned that way.”

  Pipit’s mouth was busy, so she didn’t answer. Daddy’s cunt was blossoming for her, lubricating, clit and labia swelling.

  “She hasn’t just lost the income from Mistress Shigemi’s,” Daddy said. “Some of the clients who used to fuck her have been coming here to fuck you instead. I doubt she’s got enough to pay the rent, unless she’s got something saved up or she’s figured out some way to drum up business for herself.” Daddy put a hand on Pipit’s forehead and pushed her back from her pussy. “Don’t you worry about her, babycunt?”

  It hadn’t occurred to Pipit to worry about Neko not having enough money, but she said, “Yes, Daddy.”

  “I thought you would, you’re such a tender-hearted little bitch,” said Daddy. She let go of Pipit, who went back to eating out Daddy. “Well, you and I will help her, babycunt.”

  Daddy was gruff, but really kind underneath. Yes, they’d help Neko. Daddy would know how. Daddy always knew best.

  * * *

  It was even worse than Neko had expected: Pipit was naked and wearing a worn brown dog collar. But she was undamaged and healthy, and she seemed the old Pipit as she closed the door behind Neko and hugged her warmly.

  Raquel appeared, looking voluptuous in black shorts and a sleeveless Harley shirt, and said, “C’mon, you kids. I’ve made some tea and goodies for you.” She led them to the kitchen and set mugs of tea in front of them. She set a little plate of cookies in the middle of the table, said, “I’ll leave you two to catch up,” and left them alone.

  Pipit looked at Neko with concern and said, “How’re you getting along, Neko? I’ve been worried about you.”

  “Pretty good,” Neko said. “It’s kind of lonely, not working, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do next. There aren’t all that many places like Mistress Shigemi’s, you know, and they’ve all heard about me. There’s no point in me applying for a job at any of them. I’m just out of that whole business.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Pipit said.

  “I’ve still got a few clients that come to see me at my place,” Neko said, “but I don’t want that to be like the way I make my living, you know? I didn’t mind being a professional submissive that took men home sometimes. But I don’t want to be a whore that happens to be a submissive.”

  Pipit took Neko’s hand and said, “Is there any other kind of job you can do?”

  “I don’t know,” Neko said. “I never finished college. My parents cut me off when they found out about my lifestyle, and I had to drop out. I waitressed till I got the job at Mistress Shigemi’s. I guess I could do that again, but it wouldn’t pay well enough to let me keep my apartment. I could find a student for a roommate, but any vanilla person would run away in panic. How would I explain the cross?”

  Pipit squeezed her hand and said, “I’ll bet something good comes up.”

  Now that she’d spoken her problems aloud, Neko felt hopelessness surge up inside her. “I don’t think so,” She said. “I think I’m fucked.” She buried her face in her hands and struggled to get
herself under control. She hadn’t come here to cry on Pipit’s shoulder—she was ashamed of her tears.

  She felt Pipit’s hands on her, kneading her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, baby,” Pipit said, with real warmth and feeling. It felt like the first nice thing anybody’d said to her since her firing. Neko turned around and looked up at Pipit, at the tears in her eyes, the concern that showed in every feature of her face.

  Pipit said, “Daddy said we could have the playroom to ourselves if we wanted. There are mats there. Do you want to go?”

  Neko felt she was really lucky to have such a good friend. “I’d like that,” she said, and got up.

  Pipit led her to a small room with a few items of BDSM furniture crammed in and mats on the floor. She took her in her arms and said, “Everybody needs play and sex that isn’t, you know, business. If you’ve got real relationships, they’re way more important than the business ones.”

  That was such a beautiful thing to say, Neko melted into Pipit’s arms and let herself feel loved and cared for. Pipit kissed her sweetly—her lips were so soft and she smelled of subtle herbs and fruits. Her fingers picked at Neko’s buttons, snaps, and zippers. Then Neko was naked, laid gently on the mat, and Pipit’s beautiful eyes were gazing into hers over her mound, and her tongue was so warm, so loving, so wet sliding inside her, brushing her tender clit, so sweet as she probed into her and lapped up her arousal. Yes, Pipit was right: if you had real relationships, they might not fix everything, but at least life would be bearable. You could survive anything, if you had people in your life.

  Pipit crawled up to kiss her nipples, and Neko glanced around the room—cross, table, stocks, cage. She had a cross in her apartment. It was her pride and joy, but still it was just one thing.

  “I love the stocks,” Neko said. “I wonder—”

  “I don’t think I could,” said Pipit. “But I bet Daddy’d be glad to.”

  “I don’t know,” said Neko. “I don’t think she likes me.”

  “Oh, I know she does,” said Pipit. “She’s been as worried about you as I am. I know she comes off as kind of rough, but she’s a really good Domme. She’s really caring.”