by Lisabet Sarai, Trina Lane, Elizabeth Coldwell, Charlotte Stein, Jane Davitt, Justine Elyot
“So you don’t want another spanking?” he laughed.
A wave of heat sizzled through me like summer lightning. I wanted his hands on my flesh—I didn’t care about the pain.
“It’s your choice,” I whispered. “Spank me if you want to.”
“Not tonight,” he replied. “For tonight, I have other ideas. Look at me, Sarah.”
I raised my head. He snared me with his eyes and wouldn’t release me. As usual under his scrutiny, my nipples tightened and my pussy wept. He seated himself on the sofa, still holding my gaze, and crossed one leg over the other.
“Now strip.”
Shame overwhelmed me. I didn’t understand it. I’d been naked in his presence the night before last. He had explored my body, inside and out. Why was I blushing and sweating now?
I wanted to obey him, to please him. Truly I did. Yet I couldn’t move.
“Sarah?” he queried, impatience evident in his voice. “Is there a problem?”
Suddenly I understood my reluctance. It was all about her. I knew that I couldn’t compete. I glanced around, searching for her photo, not seeing it anywhere. Perhaps it was in the bedroom, where he could fall asleep gazing upon her beauty…
“Sarah!” His rebuke brought my eyes back to his. “If you’re not going to follow instructions, you might as well go back to your room.”
“Oh no! Please don’t send me away. I’m sorry.”
I rushed to unbutton my blouse, not caring whether I was graceful or seductive. His scowl relaxed as I bared my breasts, my eager nipples all too obviously erect. His lips shaped themselves into a half-smile as I yanked off my skirt and tossed it away. That was all it took. I hadn’t worn a bra or panties for two days.
“Good girl. Why did you hesitate?”
“I—um—I didn’t know whether you’d like me. Whether I’d please you. My breasts are so small…”
“Your breasts are just fine. Anyway, it’s not your place to worry about such things. When I tell you to do something, just do it. Don’t question, obey.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.” A tiny part of me wanted to protest, to complain, to rage against him for using me to dull his desire for his true love. Then he flicked his robe open, revealing his rampant erection. Any thought of resistance vanished. I wanted to be used.
“Kneel,” he commanded. “Suck me.”
I bruised my knees in my hurry to comply.
His cock rose proudly from its thicket of black curls. It bobbed in my face, the fat olive shaft ropy with veins, the livid bulb reminding me of a ripe berry. My mouth watered. His rich, musky smell swirled around me, making me hungry. Taking a deep breath, I bent to the task he had assigned me.
I swirled my tongue around the tip, then trailed it along his length. His skin was silk stretched over granite, salty and smooth, unutterably delicious. Moisture seeped from the slit. I gathered it with my tongue, savouring the slight bitterness.
“Not so delicate, girl,” he growled.
He seized my hair and pulled my face to his crotch. I stretched my lips wide, trying to accommodate his bulk. With a grunt, he rammed his swollen penis down my throat. I choked, suddenly unable to breathe.
Sensing my distress, he backed off. I gulped air into my lungs. He waited until I opened my mouth as wide as I could before he plunged back in. This time I was ready. I relaxed my muscles and allowed him to thrust against my palate. He pulled back then drove his rod back in, deeper than before.
I tried to suck, to stimulate him with my teeth and tongue, but he was in control. All I could do was open myself and let him take me. He fucked my mouth with the same fury that he’d used on my pussy. It was glorious. I was the vessel of his pleasure. I wanted nothing more.
He held my head and jerked his cock in and out of my mouth. Saliva dribbled out the corners of my lips. Each stroke buried my nose in the fragrant nest at his root. I sensed the tension building in him, power rippling up his shaft. Please, master, I silently begged. Let me taste you.
He granted my prayer. His cock convulsed against my tongue and flooded my mouth with his warm cum. It flowed and flowed—I swallowed what I could, finding it sweet and slightly chalky—but some spilt down my chin and onto my breasts.
When the flood ebbed, he withdrew and sat back on the couch. I remained where I was, kneeling before him with my head bowed. I could feel his eyes raking over me. I was acutely conscious of my tangled hair, my saliva-streaked cheeks, the sticky mess drying on my chest. I knew he could see the wetness coating my parted thighs and smell the ocean aroma rising from my pussy.
“What do you have to say, girl?”
I looked up. His X-ray eyes bored into me, through the last layers of pride and artifice. I spoke from my heart.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Thank you, Sarah.”
Geoffrey raised me from the floor and pulled me into his lap, then fastened his lips on my bruised mouth. His kiss was like a draught of clear water, profound and refreshing. I melted into him, a deep peace stealing over me. He stroked my hair and traced little circles around my nipples, then licked the droplets of cum from my chin.
“You did well. I know that you’re not used to all this, but you’re learning fast.”
I glowed at his praise. I realised that I was hornier than ever, but somehow that didn’t matter, as long as Geoffrey was satisfied.
“Shall we try something a bit more challenging?” All at once, his voice held that familiar mockery, edged with menace. Fear shivered down my spine. Lust coiled in my belly.
He didn’t wait for my answer. “Come with me,” he ordered, leading me into the bedroom.
A rosy light shone beside the bed—Geoffrey had draped a crimson scarf over the shade—but otherwise the room was in shadow. The luggage rack had been moved in here from the sitting room. It supported the suitcase I had dragged upstairs. With a flourish, Geoffrey flung it open.
“I’m sure that you remember this bag.”
I blushed despite myself.
“I’d be willing to bet you’ve spent some time thinking about it, while we’ve been apart. Am I correct?”
My flush deepened. “Um—yes—a little.”
My tormenter chuckled. “I know that you’re curious. So here’s what we’ll do. I want you to look through my toys and choose the two that you’d most like to try.”
“Oh no! I can’t…” The notion appalled me.
“You must—unless of course you want to return to your room and forget about all this.”
“No…”
“Go ahead, then. Make your choices.”
I crept over to the suitcase and stared inside. Everything was neatly arranged with fasteners and transparent pockets to keep the infernal contents organised yet visible.
“I think of it as my portable dungeon,” Geoffrey commented. “You should see my collection in New York.”
I could hardly make sense of what I saw. I recognised a riding crop, and what looked like a small multi-stranded whip. There were leather restraints of several sizes, garnished with silvery buckles and rings, as well as a pair of steel handcuffs, neatly coiled leather thongs and braided rope. I pointed to a metal bar about two feet long, with clips at either end. “What’s this?” I whispered.
“Spreader bar. To keep your legs apart and make sure that you’re properly—accessible.”
Gingerly, I touched a bulbous device fashioned from some kind of purple plastic. “And this?”
“Butt plug. I have several sizes to accommodate you.”
Terror raced through me. My knees almost gave way. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have that obscene object embedded in my ass.
I nearly came at the thought.
“Choose, Sarah. Time is running out.”
What did I want? Oh, I wanted him to choose, to decide which of these devilish devices he’d inflict on me. I couldn’t make such a decision. I didn’t dare.
Geoffrey was behind me, his hands on my trembling shoulders. “It’s
all right, Sarah. You can be honest with me. Tell me what you want.”
I leant back against his lean, strong body. The soft hair on his chest caressed my skin. Lower down, delicious hardness pressed into the small of my back. I swallowed hard.
“Be brave, my sweet.”
“Those,” I blurted, indicating a pair of leather cuffs. “I want you to tie me to the bed.”
“Glad to,” he chuckled, freeing the leather circlets and snapping them onto my wrists. “And what else?”
The blood roared in my ears. I thought I’d faint. I pointed to the butt plug. “That,” I whispered. “Use that.”
Geoff’s gleeful laugh rang through the room. I sank to the floor, wishing that I could disappear.
“Whatever you want, my pet.”
* * * *
I don’t remember the details of how he bound me. I was in some sort of swoon of terror. The next thing I knew I was on my belly, a pillow wedged under my pelvis, my arms stretched to the edges of the mattress. I guess he must have threaded some rope through the rings on my restraints and passed it under the bed frame.
My cheek pressed against the coverlet, I watched him bustle about the dim room. He dragged the vanity stool over to the bed and sat beside me.
“How are you, little one? Are the bonds too tight?”
I shook my head, still too embarrassed to speak.
“How do you feel?” His tone of voice made it clear that he expected a reply.
“Helpless,” I said finally. “And horny.”
“Good. That’s how you’re supposed to feel.” He trailed his fingers across my bare buttocks, tracing little spirals.
My pussy spasmed, leaking my juices onto the pillow.
“You have a lovely ass, Sarah. I really enjoyed spanking you the other night.” He gave me a sharp pinch then smoothed the pain away, stroking and kneading.
I found myself relaxing under his magical touch. I drifted, enjoying his attention. When he parted my rear cheeks, however, I jolted awake.
Geoffrey brushed a fingertip across my anus. “Are you a virgin, Sarah? Has anyone ever fucked you in the ass?” He pressed against the clenched knot.
Panic made me jerk against the bonds. I felt something warm and slippery spill along my crevice. “No! Don’t!”
“You’d refuse me?”
I was silent with shame. I’d promised to obey him.
“This was your choice, little one. This is what you wanted.” He spread the lubricant around my hole, then worked his finger into the ring of muscle.
“I’ve changed my mind…Oh…oh!”
His wriggling set up lewd vibrations in my clit. The farther he intruded, the more intense the sensations became.
“Too late.”
I felt myself stretch as he pushed a second finger in next to the first. I gasped as a miniature climax exploded deep in my cunt.
“Oh…oh…”
“I’d guess from your tightness that I’m the first to ever take you here.” More fingers, pushing deeper inside my most private place, working me open.
“Oh, sir! Please…” I was empty for a moment as he removed his fingers. Then the oiled bulk of the plug pressed against my hole.
It just wasn’t possible for that enormous thing to enter such a narrow passage. He exerted a steady pressure, though, and I felt the tip breach my sphincter. He twisted, screwing the infernal object into me. It began to hurt, my poor virgin tissues stretched to the limit. At the same time, my clit throbbed and another climax simmered in my soaked pussy.
“Relax,” Geoffrey murmured close to my ear as the unrelenting invasion proceeded. “Breathe. Let me in.”
His voice was hypnotic. I wanted to obey. I remembered the lightness and peace that followed the pain of his spanking. I wanted that again.
Geoffrey must have sensed my surrender. He gave a sharp push. The plug popped into my rectum. I moaned, mortified by the sensations coursing through me, the fullness of the plug expanding inside me, the overwhelming urge to expel it.
“Good, very good. Let go, little one. Don’t fight it.”
He stroked my buttocks, then wriggled the plug. Delicious, obscene pleasure claimed me. The flicker of pain at my stretched entrance only added to the stew of sensation. The movements of the toy made my clit sputter and ache. The pleasure sparking in my cunt made the plug feel better—or worse. I could hardly tell.
My master left for a moment while he rummaged in the suitcase. The feelings built with each breath.
“I decided to choose a favourite toy as well,” he chuckled. His well-manicured hand gripped the riding crop.
He didn’t give me time to comment. The crop whooshed through the air and landed a stinging blow on my right cheek. In some dim corner of my mind, I knew that it must hurt, but somehow the pain just turned up the heat. He slashed at me again. I clenched down on the plug and ground my swollen pussy against the pillow. The next stroke sent me over the edge, spiralling into sweet oblivion.
Geoffrey was still beating me when I recovered. “Good girl,” he breathed, as the crop whistled and my ass burned. “Take it in. Let it out.”
I felt another orgasm coiling inside. Let it out, he had said. He had given me permission.
Just as I was about to explode, though, he stopped. I felt the bed shift from his weight as he climbed on and straddled me. Even through the haze of pain and pleasure, I rejoiced at the feeling of his taut thighs gripping my hips.
“Time for the real thing,” he said, and popped the plug out of my ass.
My ass gaped, open and abandoned. I cried aloud in my disappointment. Then I was full again, as he slid his greased cock into my bowels.
He wasn’t as thick as the plug, but he was much longer. His ripe flesh felt far better than the inanimate toy. He moved with a smooth, steady rhythm, filling me up then drawing back until I was almost empty. With each thrust, he delved deeper, taking possession of me. I yielded gladly.
“You’re so tight, little one—so hot. I could fuck you all night. You love it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasped, arching to take him deeper, wanting it to last forever. “I love it…”
He drove in and out, reaming me like the slut that I was. I rocked on the pillow, meeting him stroke for stroke, taking everything he had to give. I felt every muscle as he clutched and thrust and withdrew, again and again. I knew he felt me, too, the fluttering of my stretched tissues embracing him, the building heat.
I knew when he was about to come. I heard the change in his breath. I felt him swell and harden. Yes, I thought as he groaned and ground his cock into my butt. Yes, my love. Yes. It was joy, as much as physical pleasure that sent me spinning into my own climax.
Afterwards, he held me for a long time. I cuddled against him, my head on his chest, soothed by the regular beating of his heart. We didn’t speak. I felt closer to him than anyone I’d ever known. I couldn’t believe we’d met only days before.
I wanted to talk to him, to tell him how much he meant to me. I didn’t dare.
Darkness leached out of the sky. Dawn was not far away. Geoffrey seemed to be asleep.
I tried to extricate myself from his embrace. He clutched at me, his eyes still closed.
“No, don’t go…”
“I’ve got to get least a couple of hours of sleep.”
“No!” His eyes sprang open. “Oh—it’s you, Sarah.”
My heart turned to lead. “Of course. Who else? Don’t you remember—last night?”
Geoffrey’s lips curled into one of his infuriating smiles. “Indeed. Last night. You were quite the slut, girl.”
“Your slut,” I reminded him.
“My slut,” he agreed. “I’m very pleased with you, Sarah.”
I guess he was too tired to notice me blinking back tears. That wasn’t at all what I wanted him to say.
* * * *
I was so groggy at breakfast that I could barely keep my eyes open. I poured myself a huge mug of black coffee and snagged a muff
in from the buffet, then went to huddle in a corner seat. My rear hole felt loose, gaping open. My lack of panties made the sensation all the more embarrassing.
I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to think. However, I couldn’t stop Adele from bouncing in and installing herself in the chair next to me.
“How are you, Sarah?” she asked, her green eyes sparkling.
“Fine,” I replied automatically.
“You look tired. But then I’m not surprised…” She could barely contain herself.
I gave her a sharp glance. “What do you mean?” The caffeine was starting to work. I was beginning to worry.
“I heard you,” Adele whispered. “Last night.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on! I’m your friend, remember? I heard your voice, coming from Geoffrey Hart’s suite. You can’t deny it.”
I didn’t have the energy to lie. I just nodded. “So?”
“So how was it? I want all the details. Did he do anything—kinky?”
I remembered the suitcase, the butt plug, the crop. “Not really.” I searched her face. Behind her prurient interest, I saw real concern. All at once I needed to talk to someone about Geoff and what he did to me, even if I couldn’t tell the whole truth.
“He’s special, Adele. Smart and strong and sexy—he made me feel special. It was—amazing.”
“Wow!”
“I’ve got to watch myself. I think that I’m falling in love with him.”
“I’ve heard that he has that effect,” my friend confided, “leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. You shouldn’t let yourself get too serious about a summer fling. Just enjoy it.”
“You’re right. I’ll try. But it’s hard…”
At that very moment the subject of our conversation sauntered into the dining room. One look at Adele and me with our heads huddled together and Geoffrey clearly knew something was up. He served himself a cup of tea, a boiled egg and some toast and seated himself on the other side of me.
“Good morning, ladies. How are you?” He oozed charm.