Buying the Virgin Box Set Two

by Simone Leigh

  With my exams looming, I am studying hard, but I have been staring at the pages of my text for several hours.

  I sigh. Sitting on the rug, leaning up against Michael, who is lying on the couch behind me, is nice, but the book I am studying is giving me a headache.

  “Can I help Charlotte?” asks Michael, looking up from the book he is reading; something light, with a skimpily clad woman and a revolver on the cover.

  “Only if you can explain to me how finite element analysis is supposed to work in practice.” I bang the book down on the floor in frustration, raising my hands to Heaven. “It looks great on a diagram, with one or two points of reference, but how on earth you would use it to perform a real-life calculation on something physical, when there are thousands of points, I’ve no idea…”

  Michael looks blank. “Sorry I asked. Well beyond me I’m afraid.”

  “You’re quite right Charlotte. It’s a wonderful idea in theory, that is completely useless in practice unless you have a computer to do the donkey work.” My Master looks at me across his desk in the corner of the room, and I stare at him. He continues “Fortunately, these days we do have computers.”

  “Master? You’re a physicist?”

  “Nope. I’m an engineer. But there is a large overlap between the two disciplines.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  He purses his lips in that not-quite-smile of his. “You never asked.”

  “So, what do you actually do?”

  “I’m a design engineer cum architect. Right now, I’m working on the designs and structural calculations for a new bridge, for the company that owns this hotel in fact. Which is why we always have access to this beautiful apartment. My accommodation, when I’m working in town here, is written into the contract. In fact, finite element analysis is a rather large part of the work I do. Let me see what you’re struggling with….”

  I shake my head. My Master has depths I never expected.

  _____________________________________

  I stretch and yawn, rubbing my neck.

  “Tired?” asks Michael.

  “Yeah. A bit stiff too. I need a break.”

  Michael’s strong, capable hands massage my stiff neck and shoulders. “Why don’t I go out and bring some food in?”

  “We could use room service, save you the trip.”

  “I fancy a change.” he says. “Chinese food maybe, or Italian perhaps? James?”

  My Master looks up from his laptop. “Sounds good to me. Get what you like.”

  Michael vanishes with a clink of car keys, muttering about spring rolls and noodles. Bored, I stare at the door, and then at my Master. I wander over and start to rub his neck, doing for him what Michael just did for me.

  He stretches and yawns, but rolls his head appreciatively, back against my hands. “Thanks, but I thought you had work to do? “

  “Well, yes, but I need a break.”

  “You need a break, so I have to be disturbed?” Humour creases the corners of his eyes.

  “Well, I thought, Master, that perhaps.…….”

  He smiles, takes my hand and kisses the fingers

  I'd love to, but I need to work for now. We'll play later, when Michael gets back.”

  Piqued, I sit on the couch, staring into space for a minute, then parting my legs, I hitch my skirt a little higher, ensuring that my Master has a good view.

  Slowly, I start to rub the silk of my panties. I don’t speak, but after a few moments, my Master glances up, at first casually and then, with a double-take, back again as he registers what I am doing.

  He chuckles. “Charlotte, as I say, I really would love to, but later. I have to work right now.” His eyes drop back to his laptop screen, but I continue, stroking my thighs, parting them a little wider.

  After a minute, my Master looks up again.

  He sighs, sitting back in his chair, regarding me with his lean, sombre face.

  “Girls who tease, should be careful.” he says, in his slow, honeyed voice. “They may get more than they bargained for.”

  I smile at him, still stroking the dampening fabric of my panties.

  “Really, Charlotte….” he says, a note of irritation in his voice.

  Tugging open a desk drawer, he takes out a vibe and tosses it to me.

  “Go on then, if you want to perform for me, get on with it….”

  A little disconcerted, I continue. My Master does not smile broadly very often, and is normally reserved, but always, under the surface, I can detect my Smiling Master. Where is he now?

  I turn the vibe on, to a low setting, tracing my outline through the dampening fabric. Then pulling the crotch to one side, I make a show of sliding it inwards.

  He sits, silently, watching me from his desk, chin propped on his hand, face unamused.

  Standing suddenly, he strides across the room, grabbing me by a wrist, pulling me up, then he propels me forwards, through the door of the mirrored room. Leaning me over the end of the bed, he pushes me down, roughly.

  “Bend over.”

  “Master?”

  “Do as you’re told. Bend over.”

  Beginning to worry, I lean over the foot of the bed. My Master extracts cuffs from a drawer; not the usual fur lined, leather cuffs I am accustomed to, but plain, steel cuffs which click tightly shut around my wrists, and then around the bed posts.

  He shoves my ankles apart; again, no gentleness, and, from the same drawer, takes out a spreader bar, snapping the cuffs closed around my ankles, forcing them wide apart.

  “Master….”

  “Spread ‘em, Charlotte…. wider….”

  My ankles are stretched far apart, much wider than I am used to. Hips aching a little, I totter, and would fall were I not supported by the bed footer.

  My Master stands behind me, pushes up my skirt, his hands massaging my lower back and butt. They linger over my butt cheeks, and he trails fingers between over my pussy and clit. His mere touch makes me gasp and wriggle, but I know there is something amiss. There is a jerk and a tug, then another, as with shock I realise that he has simply ripped off my panties.

  A single finger hovers around my rapidly swelling clit, circling it, revolving, and my pussy warms and moistens. But although the action is so like Michael’s of only a few hours ago, I sense a different intent.

  From behind me, my Master leans over, his chest resting over my spine. “Charlotte, this is what you wanted. But this is going to be about my pleasure, not yours….”

  I do not understand what my Master is saying to me, but try to dismiss it, as he kneels behind me, fingers parting my cheeks, opening my swelling folds, displaying my core.

  I know what he is doing. He has asked me several times to open myself for him, to display my glistening lips for his enjoyment, as it heats and flows under his attentions. I picture him, behind me, enjoying the view inside my folds as he prepares to fix his lips around my gaping pussy.

  As I anticipate, his fingers stretch me open, displaying my welling core, before, after an experimental probe of my pussy, the fingers glide to my clit, flicking, manipulating, squeezing gently.

  Panting now, my breath coming quickly, and a flush of arousal spreading up my belly and breasts, I think of my Master’s warm tongue and mouth slipping over my lips and bud. His face is close now and as his tongue skims over my pussy, I gasp and shudder.

  My pussy is flowing, hot and free, my clit, quivering in anticipation, and deep inside, the promise of climax vibrates through me.

  My Master’s tongue weaves circles around my clit, probing, lapping, licking and, with a shudder, my orgasm arising, I start to moan. To get this twice in a day; how much more could I ask for?

  “Did I give you permission to cum?”

  ???

  A little uncertainly, “No, Master. You didn’t.”

  “You will not allow yourself to climax until I instruct it.”

  How do I do that?

  “No, Master. I’ll try.”

&nbs
p; “You will do better than try. You will not allow yourself to climax.”

  His tongue swirls inside my lips, lapping over my clit, working its magic over my engorged vulva.

  Orgasm arises in me, welling up from deep within.

  “Master…. I……”

  “No.”

  “Master, I don’t know how to stop it….”

  “Learn. You may not cum until…. and unless…… I give you permission.”

  My Master’s tongue continues to work my swollen bud. His breath is hot over my core and inner thighs.

  Oh God!

  Oh God….

  Back arched as I strain and quiver, “Master, please.”

  “No.”

  “Master…. I can’t stop it.”

  My orgasm wells and blooms, exploding upwards and outwards from my core and….

  He releases his hold on me, stands, and slaps me across the buttocks, hard.

  Slap!

  Slap!

  This is no love tap. The spank of his hard hand across my cheeks stings and burns. I can tell it is intended to hurt, and I scream in shock. My welling climax subsides under the pain.

  Slap! Again, on the same spot. I can almost see my butt reddening under his spanking.

  “No! As I told you, you may not cum yet. This is not for your enjoyment.”

  Although under the pain of the spanking, my orgasm has subsided, my pussy, still quivering, welcomes him as his tongue reaches, deliciously inside me. Wiping through my inner ring of muscle, I flow freely and my clit pulses, demanding my Master’s further attentions.

  Temporarily abated, my orgasm bubbles up again and my hips begin to judder. Surging, my climax ripples from core to loins and….

  My Master withdraws, my pussy left cold and empty and….

  Slap! …

  Oh God! That hurts...

  Slap! …

  “I repeat. You may not come until, and unless, I allow it. I do not expect to repeat myself again.”

  “Master….” I am trembling now with the need to cum, and with the fear of…. of what?

  Slap!

  “Did I give you permission to speak?”

  “No Master.”

  “You are taking my goodwill for granted.”

  “Master….” I am shackled, wrists and ankles. Spread wide, pinned, I cannot even struggle. “Master please, when may I cum?”

  “Not yet. Perhaps not at all.”

  “Please…why?”

  “Because I enjoy looking at you like this. I enjoy opening you up and looking inside you and making you flow. I take my pleasure from the sensation of your pussy quivering over my tongue, and knowing that you cannot do anything about it…...”

  Slap! And I scream again.

  “…. And you are not going to be released until you are ready to gush. You started this Charlotte, but I will finish it, when, and as, and if, it suits me. And I will not release you until your cunt is ready to dissolve into my mouth…”

  And with that, he licks and sucks at my pulsing folds and clit, winding me again up the curling path to climax. And as I brink and hover, again, my Master stands and smacks again, hard, at my glowing butt.

  “Please, Master…”

  “No.”

  “Master… please…”

  “Do want me to gag you?” And he slaps again, still harder, and again on the same tender spot. “Or would you prefer me to use a flogger?”

  I scream at the pain. “No Master. Please, no.”

  My hips are quivering uncontrollably, as I feel his two hands sliding between my cheeks, pulling them apart, stretching them open still further. Fingers scissor between my folds and push inside me, probing, waggling at my sweet spot, sending further electric waves ripping through my exhausted flesh. Pulling them out, he sucks them clean of my juices.

  “Not wet enough yet. Let’s see if we can up the ante eh?”

  ??

  What can he possibly do that….??

  Almost despairingly, I hear the whirr of the vibe coming to life. For a second or so it licks around my entrance, and over my clit, sending my trembling hips into further helpless spasms, then it is withdrawn and again, the hard Slap! of my Master’s hand over my sore flesh.

  There are footsteps.

  Bent over, upside-down and behind me, I see Michael step into the room, carrying a couple of large, brown-paper bags. He smiles at first, then his expression changes as he sees the force of the next Smack! my Master delivers to my incandescent ass, and hears my cry as the blow lands.

  “What the….? James….?”

  “Stay out of it, Michael. Charlotte and I have a little disagreement to settle. A small dispute over the appropriate exercise of good manners.

  And he drops again to his knees, sucking at my clit, probing my core with the vibe, then again…. Slap!

  Beside myself, as my Master continues his work, my breathing frantic, my need to orgasm driving me crazy, becoming close to unbearable, I can do nothing. And the pain of the spanking only grows as each blow lands on the same tormented, sore, skin.

  The hard metal cuffs bite into my wrists and ankles. Even bending over the bed, I am having difficulty supporting myself. “Master…. I can’t stand…”

  “Tough.” And he pushes my ankles further apart, destabilising me entirely so that I flop over the end of the bed, simply hanging over the bed footer.

  What do I do?

  I can’t take much more of this.

  Michael says nothing, but sits on the bed besides me, stroking one manacled hand. He holds my eyes, wincing when I cry out with each blow; locking eyes with me as I am forced along the path of climax, then turned back.

  Finally, he says quietly,

  “Charlotte, I wasn’t here, so I don’t know what happened, but could it be that you perhaps owe your Master an apology for something?”

  *Penny Drops*

  Oh God. Of course, I do…….

  “Oh, Master. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I just thought we… we could have some fun…. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  Instantly, my Master drops to his knees behind me, and plunges his tongue deep, deep into my pussy. He swirls, hot and moist through my inner ring of muscle. Electric waves ripple through me and my desperate cunt spasms into orgasm.

  I partly want to scream, partly feel unable to do more than gasp. What emerges is a kind of drawn out wail, as my pussy convulses and gushes. Jerking and twitching, I spurt hot juices and my Master licks and sucks and laps me clean.

  My orgasm seems to last forever, washing over me in repeated tides that do not die away. Jerking spasmodically, I simply ride this earthquake of the flesh, utterly out of control.

  My wrists are unclipped and Michael lifts me bodily, dropping me on my back onto the bed and almost ripping off his jeans. Plunging deep into me, he fucks me hard, penetrating deeply with his thick hard cock, spearing me repeatedly as my clutching cunt grabs and snatches at him; until my internal tension eases and my body relaxes.

  I lie, staring at the ceiling, my breathing gradually easing, utterly spent. Limp bodied, I look to my Master, who now stands at the bottom of the bed, wiping his mouth, looking concerned.

  His eyes have regained a little of their softness. Abruptly, my own eyes well, and I burst into tears.

  “I’m sorry, Master. I really am.”

  And he is there, sitting next to me, cradling me, rocking me in his arms. “Shhh… It’s over. Forget about it. We have learned something new about each other today. That is all.”

  They pull warm covers over me then both leave the room. Vaguely, I hear raised voices outside….

  “How far were you going to go….?”

  But then I fall into an exhausted sleep.

  __________________________________

  When I wake, it is going dark. Sliding out of the bed, I grab a robe and pad through to the lounge. My Master is there, still working at his desk, jabbing buttons on a calculator. Michael is sprawled out on
the couch, still reading his book. He looks up at me as, a little hesitantly, I enter. Putting his book down, he stands and offers me his hand in an invitation to sit with him.

  “May I… come in?”