Manhattan Kink: A Boxed Set

by Serafina Conti

  Neko had her doubts, but she was getting excited imagining herself in the stocks. What was the harm? She was used to being whipped by people she hardly knew at all. At least she knew Raquel, even if she was scary.

  “Okay,” said Neko. “If she wants.”

  Pipit soon came back with Raquel, who said, “You masochists are fucking unbelievable. Take one look at some fucking stocks and you puddle, and then you put me to a fuckload of trouble whipping you. Well, you’d better get the fuck in. You help her, babycunt.”

  Neko was happy that Pipit was the one fastening her into the stocks: she loved her gentle touch and the comforting way she petted her exposed bottom. But she’d heard that Raquel didn’t do warmup, or did it so fast it hardly counted as warmup. She braced herself for an onslaught as Pipit came to the front of her, kissed her cheek, and held one of her hands.

  Raquel started with a paddle. It was true that she did little warmup, just a few not-quite-violent strokes of the paddle. But then she quickly became a force of nature, a category five hurricane with hard things blowing in it, and you were immobilized in the stocks as it blew all around you. She paddled Neko’s bottom, upper back and thighs; then she caned her in the same places. It was incredible, and Neko was so aroused, with this blinding light all around her, and having Pipit there, such a warm presence, made the experience different and somehow loving in a way Neko had never known before.

  When the caning was done and Pipit released her from the stocks, Raquel’s idea of aftercare was to make Neko eat her big sloppy pussy; but Pipit was there holding her while she did it, and it didn’t matter that Raquel was calling her a dumb cunt and a butt-fuck whore—or it did matter, but in a good way, like the caning. Neko felt euphoric, cocooned in love.

  After Raquel had had her orgasm, she sat and watched Neko and Pipit make love, Pipit topping Neko, who perceived her friend as a kind of aura that enveloped and warmed her—a surrounding mist of wet and dry touches, caresses, and kisses that gradually stimulated her sore body until she came—a strange, otherworldly orgasm—something beamed in from space, but still huge and intense.

  Raquel left the room. Neko and Pipit lay on the mat together for a long time, holding each other. Finally Neko said, “That was really beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like it.”

  “All my scenes with Daddy are like nothing else in the world,” said Pipit. “I know she comes across like she doesn’t care, but she’s really loving. She understands what I need and gives it to me.”

  “What’s that?” Neko asked, knowing it could never be a thing she could give Pipit.

  “She brings clients here to fuck me—”

  “Baby, you can’t do that!” cried Neko. “You’ll get yourself fired!”

  “Nobody’s stopped doing it,” said Pipit. “They’re just being more careful about it.”

  Neko was scared for Pipit. “I thought I was careful too. They’ve got to be really watching now,” she said. “What if you got fired? How would you live?”

  “Daddy would take care of me, the same way she does now.” Pipit turned to Neko suddenly, as if she’d just had a wonderful idea. She said, “Do you think you’d like to play here sometimes, you know, with clients? I’m sure it’d be all right with Daddy. You could use the stocks, and sometimes maybe we could do scenes together, like we did today, but we could think up even better ones. I’d love playing with you! I’ll bet Daddy could even help you find new clients. She’s really good at that.”

  Neko hesitated. She was still afraid of Raquel, who seemed unstable. It would be easy to fall under her spell the way Pipit had. And she wasn’t sure she wanted new clients—how many more would there be before she really was a whore? On the other hand, the little she had saved was going fast, her rent was due in a few days, and she had no idea how she was going to pay it. She had little choice but to accept any help that was offered.

  “Well,” Neko said, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask her.”

  Pipit went to find Raquel, who said, “I get twenty percent if you use the room. Fifty if I set up the scene.”

  Neko swallowed. She’d never had to share this way before. She wanted to ask Pipit if that was her arrangement too, but she didn’t dare in front of Raquel.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Raquel smiled. “I can see you don’t like it. Why don’t you just move the fuck in here with babycunt? There’s plenty of room, and the more cunts we got rooming together, the cheaper the rent is for everybody.”

  Pipit bounced on the balls of her feet and said, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to live together again?”

  The idea had its attractions. Neko’s rent worries would be over, especially if she could sublet her apartment, and she could keep an eye on Pipit. But she had to be cautious.

  “Can I have a look around?”

  “Sure,” said Raquel. “Babycunt, show Neko around.”

  Neko could deal with the clutter: she knew the place would be much cleaner after she’d been living there a little while. But she saw that there was just one bedroom, with a king-sized bed. “Where would I sleep?” she asked.

  “We’ll have to ask Daddy. I sleep in the cage in the playroom,” said Pipit.

  Neko’s heart sank. “I don’t know if I can sleep in a cage,” she said.

  Behind them, Raquel said, “If you stay here, you play by Daddy’s rules. But I’ll be good to you. I’ll buy you your own fucking cage.”

  “I can’t do it,” said Neko.

  * * *

  Pipit cowered in her cage as Daddy sat just outside, holding a violet wand with a long tip and handle. Pipit cringed as the tip approached. There was a snap, and Pipit cried, “Ow, Daddy!”

  “You were supposed to talk her into moving in, idiot skank,” said Daddy.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” said Pipit.

  Daddy shocked her again. “I want the cunt here where I can keep an eye on her. I don’t fucking trust her, and you shouldn’t either.”

  “Okay, Daddy, I’m sorry,” said Pipit.

  “Dumb cunt’s half in love with you,” said Daddy. “This isn’t rocket science—you can make her do fucking anything, if you think and use your fucking brain.” Daddy shocked her again.

  “Ow! I’ll try, Daddy.”

  “You’ll succeed, babycunt. Believe me, you haven’t had a fucking punishment yet.”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” Pipit sobbed, and waited for the shock.

  * * *

  Raquel had let Pipit come visit all by herself. She’d even given Pipit permission to have sex with Neko, and they’d made love on her big bed. Neko loved Pipit’s body more every time she saw it. She’d topped today and had caressed every inch of her and kissed and licked the sexy parts—all the body’s openings and the places where the nerves are close to the surface, and then some secret places Pipit told her about in confidence.

  But now Pipit was crying in Neko’s arms, and her tears were like knives cutting her up inside.

  “Daddy’s good to me,” Pipit said. “Really she is. But she goes like days without even talking to me sometimes, except to tell me what to do. And I spend all night alone. It’s so lonely sometimes, I cry myself to sleep. I think about you all the time, Neko, wishing you were with me. I’m sorry, I know that’s selfish.”

  “No, sweetie,” said Neko, hugging her tighter. “I want to be with you, too.”

  In truth, Neko didn’t need much persuading. She was already late paying her rent—worse than late, really. She had no hope of paying it at all, since her monthly income had fallen well below her monthly rent. Even a roommate wouldn’t get her out of trouble now. She’d had one session at Raquel’s, and that had gotten her a little extra money, but Raquel had hinted broadly that she wasn’t going to put herself out for a girl who was too stuck up to live with her co-workers.

  Soon Neko would receive a late notice from her landlord, and shortly after that he’d begin eviction proceedings. She could draw the process out for months, but she didn’t ha
ve the heart for it. The outcome would be the same no matter what she did. Calling her parents was out of the question, and she didn’t have any friends she could crash with.

  Better Raquel than the street, and if she was going to do it, she’d better do it soon. Students were looking for apartments now, but they wouldn’t be much longer. Yes, she’d do it, and she’d do it today.

  “Help me pack, Pipit, and I’ll come home with you.”

  Pipit gave a delighted squeak, hugged Neko tight, and jumped up, ready to lend a hand. They packed some clothing, toiletries, cosmetics and sex toys in a small suitcase, and arrived at Raquel’s apartment that afternoon around five. Raquel herself opened the door and said, “Oh, look, here’s our new cunt! Come in and take your fucking clothes off, cunt.”

  Heart sinking, Neko stepped in and shed her clothing as Pipit stood by and watched. Raquel circled Neko slowly, touching her here and there. In spite of herself, Neko was getting wet. Finally Raquel stopped in front of her, slid a proprietary finger into her slit, and said, “I like it. Skinny little stick of a twat, hardly any tits. Face like a fucking rat. I think I’ll call you ratfuck. Come here, ratfuck, and give Daddy’s ass a kiss.”

  * * *

  “This is your lucky night,” said Mistress Kathy. “Tosatsu isn’t usually available for walk-ins, but tonight she had a couple of cancellations.”

  Mistress Kathy took Andrew to the warehouse room, where Tosatsu was waiting, looking just as beautiful as he remembered. She put her hands on his shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you came,” she said. Kathy left them alone.

  “Before we start,” Tosatsu said, “we have to talk about limits and plan out the scene. But first maybe we should talk a little about why you’re here. You said you had a girlfriend, and you were both in the lifestyle.”

  “Yeah.” said Andrew, “We got into it together, but then I dropped out for a long time—more than a year—while she went on with it. We’ve been back together for just a couple months, and—I guess I feel like I need to get up to speed.”

  “What’s your slave’s name?” asked Tosatsu. “Just to make it easier to talk about your relationship.”

  “Emily,” said Andrew.

  Tosatsu asked about the kinds of play Emily liked and her limits, and Andrew spoke of her love of impact play, and her ruling out scat and most kinds of edgeplay.

  Tosatsu said, “What a slave needs is a Master who’s masterful—who doesn’t doubt himself and takes what’s his without ever asking. I like being taken by surprise by a Master’s mastery—you know, his overwhelming force. I like it when I don’t know what he has in mind. Limits are important, but I like it when a Master pushes right up to my limits, and even goes a little over. That expands my abilities and reminds me who’s in charge—who’s setting the rules. And if his manner is confident and strong, it’s really erotic to be pushed that hard. If your slave is turned on, that’s guaranteed to turn you on, too.”

  This sounded a little different from what Andrew had been told. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable pushing past anyone’s limits, but he was curious what it would feel like to play rough with this beautiful woman. “Okay—I get it,” he said. “What are your limits?”

  “They’re kind of like Emily’s, but I can’t bear the thought of anyone hitting hard enough to break the skin,” she said. “That’s an absolute hard limit.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ve never broken Emily’s skin either, even though she hasn’t made it a limit.”

  “It’s something you might want to think about, then,” said Tosatsu. “She might make it a hard limit, but then she might like it. I know my roommate does.”

  They planned out their scene, keeping it simple: Andrew would bind her to one of the rough-hewn wooden posts in the room, flog her upper back with a cat, and let her reactions guide him towards greater intensity. If all went well, they’d move from the cat to a cane.

  He remembered the flogging he’d gotten from Ai and tried to make the first strokes like caresses. She closed her eyes dreamily, sighed, and said, “Oh, that’s good. Work your way up, but don’t ask anything or tell me anything. Just do it.”

  Andrew did that: he gradually increased the force of his strokes, getting more aroused every moment until she was writhing and moaning. Then he paused and stepped close to her, meaning to ask if she felt up to going on with the cane, but before he could speak she said, “Masters don’t ask. They just do it.”

  Tosatsu’s upper back was red. Andrew tapped lightly with the cane where the skin was reddest, and she twisted and said “Ow!” Feeling bolder, he quickly built till she was shrieking and he was beginning to worry about breaking her skin. He wished he could do that—his cock was painfully hard and he thought he’d come at the sight of blood on her perfect, creamy skin. But he stopped, released her, and led her to a sofa, where he sat with his arm around her.

  In a quiet, dreamy voice she said, “We can’t do it the right way here. You’ve got to come back to my place.”

  “I guess I’d better get home,” Andrew said. He was already unsure what he’d say to Emily about where he’d been. His homecoming would get more awkward with every hour he stayed out.

  “It’ll cost extra,” she said in a barely audible voice. “I’m sorry about that. I wouldn’t charge you anything if it were just up to me. You’re so compelling. I want you to humiliate and punish me.”

  He remembered her exquisite body, flawless from head to foot, and the way she’d said, “I wish they’d let us make love.”

  She whispered now. “I want you to take my body. I want to give you every inch of me to use for your pleasure. I need you to fuck me.”

  She whispered into his ear many things she longed for him to do to her body, till his need to make love to her was irresistible. “Okay,” he said.

  She smiled. “You won’t be sorry,” she said. “Talk to Mistress Raquel.”

  * * *

  Raquel showed them into her playroom and left them alone. Andrew’s stomach was fluttery. This was appallingly expensive. He could afford it, sort of, since he and the two women were living on Amanda’s money and not spending any of his, but he couldn’t easily justify it to himself, particularly since, somewhere in the back of his mind where he was still being honest with himself, he wasn’t at all sure his purpose was really to become a better Master. But since he’d committed himself, he had to go on.

  Tosatsu said, “I’d like to suggest a game where we explore the border between humiliation and degradation. Like humiliation is when you make somebody feel ashamed, and degradation is when you take that so far it actually hurts. Okay?”

  “Okay,” said Andrew.

  Tosatsu said, “Was there ever a girl, like in high school or college, that dissed you, really humiliated you?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Andrew. “Becky Harrington. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She went out with the most popular guys, you know, the star athlete, the guy who drove the beemer. She went out for a while with the team’s quarterback, and when I heard they’d broken up, I worked up the nerve to call her. I was like, what’s the harm? She turned me down politely enough, but went around talking about how that dorky Andrew had the nerve to ask her for a date. It was like some nightmare out of a teen movie. Very humiliating.”

  “That’s perfect,” said Tosatsu. “Why don’t we make believe you’re in town for some kind of convention. You call up an escort service, and the girl they send round is Becky Harrington. You know her parents have no idea she’s, like, a prostitute, because your parents have been passing along all kinds of news about how brilliantly she’s doing in her career in, I don’t know, finance. Does that sound like a scene you could get into?”

  “Yeah,” he said, “it sounds good.” That old insult still rankled a little, now that he thought about it.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m that girl Becky. You’re not going to sympathize with my plight—you’re not going to be even a little b
it kind. The sight of me pisses you off, and you just want to get revenge for the way I humiliated you all those years ago. You’ve got all the power, so you know you can do it. You’re going to humiliate me, and maybe even cross the line a little into degradation. Then you’re going to fuck me like you hate me. Do degrading things to me. If you show me any kindness or sympathy at all, I’m going to stop the scene and turn you over to Mistress Raquel.”

  He smiled and said, “Anything but that,” though his cock had gotten tingly at his first sight of Raquel tonight, and had grown heavy in his pants when she’d said, “Well, if it isn’t the fucking loser!”

  “Good,” Tosatsu said. “I’m going to leave the room, count to ten, and knock on the door. When you open it, this’ll be your hotel room, and we’ll start the scene.”

  She left the room, Andrew took a few deep breaths, and then the knock came.

  He opened the door, and she gave him a sunny smile, which faded quickly into uncertainty.

  “Hi,” she said, voice a little quavery. “I’m Dusty.”

  “No, you’re not,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” she said uncertainly. “I think maybe I have the wrong room—”

  “I don’t think so, Becky,” he said, seizing her wrist and pulling her inside. “I sent for a whore, and you look exactly like a whore.”

  She tried to twist away, saying, “Let me go. I really have to go.”

  “No, no, Becky. It’s been such a long time. We’ve got so much to catch up on.”

  “It has been a long time . . . Andrew?”

  “Your parents are telling everybody you’ve got a job in finance, and you’re making a bundle. That’s a little exaggerated, isn’t it?”

  “A little,” she said in a small voice.

  “I’ll bet you are making a bundle, though. Selling your ass is lucrative.”

  He paused. She didn’t say anything, but glanced towards the door.

  He went on. “Don’t think of trying to escape, Becky. Think what a pity it’d be if your parents found out how you’re making a living. If it happened to slip out while I was talking to my mother—she’s a terrible gossip, you know—it’d be all over town in a heartbeat.”