by Jamie Knight
She does. Once again, I watch as Samantha’s features deepen, morph and change with each of her thoughts. Most notably, I see shame and guilt — the needy lack of confidence burns across her features — and, while I don’t interrupt, I have no idea what’s going on in that head of hers.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity in lingering, breathy silence, she brings her eyes to me.
I ask her again, “Are you a virgin?”
This time, she answers. She nods, looking defeated and scared — unworthy somehow —and hangs her head, messing with something by her leg.
“What are you messing with?” I ask this as I come to try to take her hand in mine, and reward her for her honesty. But she hunches to cover whatever she’s messing with on her leg. She tries to keep my hands away.
“You’re not going to hide anything from me. Not while we’re in here,” I tell her, and take her hand away. I hold them, momentarily wishing I had some damn handcuffs.
I hear her whine pitifully, but I don’t get it. I made sure not to take her hand away roughly, so I know I didn’t hurt her. All I see is a tear in one side of her skirt. I quite like the tear. It shows me a nice chunk of her thigh and hip. I touch the open area of skin with my free hand, watching her tremble.
Feeling her twitch under my touch, I ask, “Is this what you were hiding? This tear in your skirt?”
Samantha nods, looking away from me.
I grin at her childish fear of ruining her clothes, being seen a certain way, and continue to caress her through the tear in her skirt.
“Do you like it when I touch you?”
I don’t even need to ask. I already know she does. I can feel it in the way heat swirls around my fingers and the faint shiver under my fingertips.
Samantha nods softly, shuttering and gasping, but I can’t tell whether from how vulnerable or how good I’m making her feel.
Either one is fine with me, and now I’m determined to break her of her unreasonable fixation with this ripped clothing. So, I take each side of the tear in my hands, and rip it clean through. I pull so fast and hard, she doesn’t even have time to object, before the whole entire skirt comes falling off her hips, revealing her snug and lacy panties. They even have little bows on them.
“You shouldn’t worry about little stupid things like that, Samantha,” I murmur, running my hands down the full length of her legs and thighs, now exposed to me. “You’re beautiful. Your body is to die for. Clothes of any kind would look shabby on you, no matter their make.” As I say this, I’m running both hands down each leg, moving inward to caress close to her mound. “And isn’t it better this way?”
I look up at her to find her watching me. Blushing and tearing from behind her gag, as if she’s never been told anything like that in her life.
“Isn’t it better to get compliments you don’t have to beg for?” I continue stroking her shapely legs, enjoying each little shake and tremble I get. “Isn’t it much better to be quiet, and let others tell you what they like about you?”
I watch her nod, and this time I’ve decided she’s earned a reward really and truly. I take her hands in mine, and walk her back to a chair without restraints. It’s a big and cushy one, designed exactly for a moment like this — me giving her pleasure, while she just relaxes.
Taking her to stand in front of that chair, I order her to take off the rest of her clothes.
She does, quickly and silently, allowing me to just drink all of her in. Her large, but perky breasts. Her shapely, strong hips, toned thighs and legs. When she has taken the last bit of clothes off, and kicked them aside, only then do I lower her into the soft chair.
“Good girl,” I say, spreading her legs, as her perfect back and shoulders come to rest in the recessed backrest. “You have more than earned your reward.”
With that, I kneel down, placed my head in between her luscious thighs, and began to lick and suck at her sweet, virgin pussy.
The moment my tongue touches down on her soft and silky lips, she starts moaning. She gasps and pants from over the large and dominating ball in her mouth. I imagine I can hear her tongue curling and lashing out against it, as my tongue curls and lashes out along her folds, finding my way to her clit.
Every inch I move toward her, I make sure she feels everything. I make sure my lips do work as well, stimulating and rubbing each bit of skin, teasing each bit of wetness on her whole lower lips.
When I do find her clit, it’s a shy but hot little pea. It’s a cloaked little bud, ready for my unveiling. I loop and curl my tongue around her nub, along its sides, enjoying every little noise I’m rewarded with. Every little moan Samantha makes, every tiny yip, I savor it all. But as I lick and suck along her slit and clit, what I enjoy more is the sound of her hissed breaths. Of the panting coming from her.
As I take her now aroused clit in between my lips, barely nibbling at it with my teeth, I know I’m going to keep at this until she comes. Until she screams over that ball and then bites into it with everything she has.
So that’s what I do. I clamp down on her clit with my lips, and bring my tongue out to begin mercilessly and lovingly licking and lashing her. My movements are quick and firm, pushing and raking against her bead. I’m rolling and dipping along her, feeling and hearing her moans quickening and growing in volume.
I push her further, actually drawing her clit out of its hood with the force of my lips. The sucking motion I’m doing with my mouth, all the while pressing and dragging my tongue along all of her sweet bits. And they are beginning to gush out at me now, with sweet, perfumed juice.
This is just as I hear let out a guttural, wild moan. One that quickly morphs into a sobbing, gasping cry. Something that sounds so sweetly tortured, that it takes every bit of my control to not unzip myself and just take her here and now.
I want that to be for when I get her home to my mansion, to my personal sex room. Not a moment before.
I hear Samantha gulping and sucking on the weight of her ball gag at the strength of her orgasm. I feel her shuddering and quaking around me, and I know her teeth are buried deep within the gag. As she breathes raggedly, slowly growing slack in the seat, I hear her panting. I hear it rasping cutely along her lips, where the ball meets her mouth.
She moans, almost sounding like she’s crying. But not from pain. From sweet, delirious joy.
Chapter Five
Samantha
Oh… My… God…
I can’t breathe. Even after feeling myself explode — my body and mind give themselves over to Will and his ridiculously-experienced tongue — I’m spinning. I feel like a small planet rotating around him, even though I know I’m sitting securely in the chair. My world twirls and tumbles for a moment, before settling.
But as my heart rate comes down from its heightened, fluttering tempo, even then I’m quickly worked up into another bout of sensitivity and feeling. The aftershocks of the magic Will’s worked on me.
Plus, I still feel like his lips and tongue are making a meal out of me. Like they are licking and sucking on every bit and piece of me, devouring every sacred morsel, even though he’s sitting back and looking at me now. He’s smiling with a soft knowing look, a mischievous amusement at my state.
“You deserved that reward,” he tells me, as I sigh over the ball gag. “You’ll deserve many more, Samantha. That is, if you earn them like you’ve earned this one.”
As I’m sitting there listening to him, letting my tongue and lips play gently with the curved, hefty rubber, I realize how much I enjoy this. Being gagged. Having something like this bright and imposing ball spread my teeth and force open my lips.
I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s addictive, that feeling. Like the act of being held back, prevented from doing what I thought I had to do so much of — talk, explain and justify my words and my value, my beauty. Silence is exciting.
I’m more ready and willing to do what Will wants. And not just because he wants it or he’ll reward me for it, bu
t because I simply enjoy being in his presence like this. I enjoy not having the ability to talk, and instead, being forced to feel myself being visually and sexually enjoyed, in silence.
Will’s just staring at me. He’s enjoying my body with his eyes, and his hands, and I’m just there to absorb it. I suck it up the attention like a sponge, while I wait patiently for whatever else he desires me to experience.
Even his smallest touches, a graze of my nipples with the edge of his fingers, the barest whisper of his thumb on my tummy, all of that sends me into overdrive. It is much more telling of how beautiful he thinks I am than any words of praise could ever be.
Will stands himself up from his place between my legs. “Would you like to lose your virginity to me tonight, Samantha?”
For a moment, I’m not sure that I hear his question to me. In part because my mind is on other things, but also because I wasn’t expecting him to be so blunt. So forward, even though he’s already demonstrated that streak to me once this evening.
But I don’t wait to answer him. Even in my surprise and lingering shock, I know what my answer is. My body is already warming and squirming with it. My pussy’s already wet for him. I’m imagining what he’s going to taste like. How he is going to feel all the way inside of me, though it embarrasses me to realize I have so much actual hunger inside me, not just jealousy.
I nod to him, swallowing the spirit in my mouth.
Briefly, I wonder if he’s going to take me here and now. If he’s going to ask me to turn around on this chair and present my pussy to him for fucking. I tense at this thought, already in love with the idea.
But, as I quickly find out, Will has different ideas. He looks at me, backs up, and points to the floor in front of him. “Then you’ll have to earn that reward. Do some good work for it, Samantha. Understand?”
I nod, and slide myself off the chair. Without being told to, I crawl softly and slowly to him, and kneel myself demurely in front of him. I hang my head, waiting patiently for whatever command might follow.
Will just chuckles with amusement, reaches behind my head and unclasps the gag. I look up questioningly as he does this. I wasn’t expecting it. I also was prepared to keep the gag in. I wanted to keep it in.
As I look up at him, I see that, while the other gag has been removed, he has another waiting in the wings. This gag is a little different from the one I was already wearing. Instead of a ball, it has a circular part to keep my mouth open. It will keep my lips pulled wide, but there is space for my tongue to fit through or for something to fit into my mouth.
I bow my head, giving him silent permission to put this new gag on me.
“Good girl,” he purrs, sweeping my long waves of brown hair away so he can fasten the gag around my head, and fit the “separator” part of the gag in my mouth. “Nice and quiet.” He says this, as he puts everything firmly in place, and I get use to the open air on my teeth and gums and the way my mouth is propped open just so. I still can’t speak, but I’ve learned that that doesn’t matter with Will’s next words. “You’re going to suck my cock until I come. Got that? If I enjoy myself well enough, you’ll have earned yourself another surprise.”
I watch silently as he unzips himself, brings out his long, thick cock, and handles it for a moment before guiding my mouth forward to meet the massive cockhead. I don’t resist and allow Will to plunge my mouth onto his thick member.
It’s immediately a mouthful. The little “circle” of room in the gag where something could fit through, Will’s long and thick cock takes up all of that space. He fills it all up with not even a millimeter to spare. And my cheeks and tongue? They are quickly overwhelmed with his size, but in a delirious and happy way. All of the slobber I’d been building up due to the first gag and now this one, all of that goes onto his delicious shaft. It drips and slithers down his length, as I reflexively tighten my mouth muscles around him.
I close my throat a little bit. The sudden force of his cockhead on the back of my throat causes a bit of a gag reflex, but like being gagged in the first place, this is oddly exhilarating. It’s terrifying for a few seconds but exhilarating enough to have my pussy heaving and aching. As Will forces me back and forth on him, setting the rhythm for me, I feel my thighs sliding on one another. I was wet before, and now I’m even wetter.
I moan happily, allowing myself to slurp and gulp him the same way I sucked and gulped at the ball from the first gag. But his cock is so much better than the ball. It’s so much sexier. I love the taste and texture of it. It’s musky and hard over my tongue. It robs me of all my oxygen, drowns me in my own saliva, and I love it. I’m craving release as I start to really work his cock with my mouth and tongue.
Up and down I plunge my head, not needing or waiting to breathe. I let his cock take up all the room in my mouth and my throat. I let it push out any and all need to ever say another word. As I feel his girth stretch my throat, I enjoy my dizziness with desire.
I groan, enjoying the feeling of his fingers near my throat. He’s not holding hard enough to choke, but enough to let me know he’s there, and appreciates my work.
Indeed, Will is groaning and panting now. I hadn’t realized he was making any noise, but now I do. I hear him huffing and sighing.
“Oh, yeah, Samantha,” he growls, “oh yes, my Samantha babe, that’s it. That’s what I like.”
With this, I taste and feel him getting harder. I actually feel his shaft pulsate and thrust with some contraction of muscles. Some plumping in him, even though he was already delectably massive.
“Good, good girl!”
I start pushing my mouth down on him as far as I can go and holding. I start pulling myself off him only when I give my coughing, gagging noise. And even then, I don’t do so until I tighten my throat around him. Until I make sure my mouth is nice and tight around him on the ride up.
I’m doing this fast and hard, seeing little black dots at the corner of my vision. These let me know I might pass out, but I don’t care. My clit is hard. My lips are drenched with sucking on him. Thinking these thoughts, I taste the first drops of cum on my tongue. They’re salty and sweet somehow, and I have a thought that I wouldn’t mind if he kept his cock in me like this even after he comes.
Which he does, a moment later, his whole length of bunching in my mouth, like a pistol ready to unload. And with one great heave and clench from his balls, from the muscles down the length of him, he does. He spurts strong, thick waves of seed down my throat and along my tongue. They splash and tumble into my mouth with gusto, and I swallow them with equal enthusiasm. I drink them obediently, sucking and licking everywhere I can for more.
“Good girl, Samantha,” says Will, sliding his creamy and coated cock in and out of my mouth, along my tongue, allowing me to clean up the last of him. “You did wonderfully. You certainly will be rewarded.”
As he says this, I feel empty and lonely. I miss his cock as it slips out of the ringed opening and gets placed back into his slacks.
I sit quietly, waiting for what he’s going to say next. What offer or challenge he’s going to level at me, now that I’ve done well by him.
It comes moments later, as I hear his zipper fall back into place. “Want to come home with me, Samantha? I have lots more to reward you with there.”
Go home? With him? My heart flutters happily. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else. I look up at him and nod.
He takes me from the floor like my kinky knight in shining armor. “Then let’s get you dressed and out of here to my limo, and then to my personal sanctuary.”
Chapter Six
Will
Samantha’s a joy to redress. It’s like having my own fashion doll. She lets me manipulate her limbs and position everything just so. She does it all without words, and with the newer gag still in. I decide to tie her sweater back around her hips, making a mental note to get her a newer, better skirt later. Still, I don’t regret shredding that other one to bits. It will make the extra
fun I have planned at home that much easier.
Before we exit the private room, I take the gag off. Mostly so I can get her in the limo and home without too many strange looks from my driver. Even with the gag off, Samantha follows silently behind me. With her obedient step behind mine, I text my driver on the way out to tell him to be out by the curb with the doors open, ready to take us to my mansion.
Slipping my phone back in my suit jacket pocket, I head for the main doors. I don’t bother to wait for a response from my driver. He’ll just do what I’ve asked him, no questions asked.
Indeed, the very moment we step free of the double doors, I see my limo there — pulled straight to the curb, with the driver climbing out and opening the passenger doors. “Here to take you and your companion home, sir,” he intones, bowing low.
“Make it snappy,” I tell him, climbing inside and bringing Samantha with me. “I’ve got better things to do than sit around in traffic, Jeffries.” With that, I bring Samantha forward in front of me, sit her down on one of the bench seats in the limo, and sit next to her.
Jeffries obeys my command. He quickly shuts the doors and goes around to the driver’s side. From there, he climbs inside, and starts pulling us away from the club and it’s a vacant curbside. Almost immediately, Jeffries begins maneuvering the vehicle through quieter, lesser-known side streets, all designed to get me home as quick and painlessly as possible.
A necessity in New York.
Through it all, Samantha is quiet and contemplative. I don’t exactly know what she’s thinking, but she seems meditative. She seems calm and satisfied. And in a way I could never have imagined, given how she was just an hour or so ago — endlessly and mindlessly chattering away, digging for compliments and for security. And now, she’s just sitting there. Enjoying my company or something, not saying a damn word.