Her gaze shot to Master's crotch. His hard-on was still evident and her lust was still thick and heavy between her loins. She quickly dropped from the chair to the floor and crawled to Master. He opened his legs and held his cock out to her. A whimper followed by a purr rippled past her lips. When she reached his side, she began to do exactly what they both wanted.
The tips of her fingers trailed up and down his rod as she gazed longingly at him. She nuzzled her cheek against his inner thigh as she looked at his smooth balls and swollen rod. Her hands caressed the skin of his shaft; a breath of air blanketed his testicles as she wiggled herself further between his legs. He petted her hair, toyed with the curls and caressed her cheek. Adoringly she looked upon him, and then she began to worship him.
He watched as she laid her head against his thigh, and her fingers slowly trailed along the underside of his balls; when she touched them, he shivered, groaned softly and sighed in contentment. She smiled, looked up at him and pressed a kiss where her fingers had brushed. He said nothing, nor did he move to encourage her. She had won her reward and so he allowed her to bask in it.
She licked at the soft, smooth flesh, pushing the spheres back and forth with a knowing touch. Her lips brushed across the underside and then she began to deliver long sensuous strokes with the flattened muscle until he was softly cursing. A soft giggle slipped past her throat, as she maneuvered herself up to her knees and dragged her tongue up his full length.
One hand lay behind his cock. Her knuckles grazed his abdomen as she held him within her loose caress. She rolled her tongue around the mushroom head, then down along the ridge, before tracing the largest engorged vein with the tip of her tongue. His fingers no longer petted her long curly locks, but by now had become wrapped tightly around the silky strands. He pulled her hair slightly, allowing her to feel the pleasure he was receiving from her tender ministrations.
She smiled against his shaft and quickly made her way up from the base of his cock to the head again, once more choosing a vein to follow. She reached the tip and played with the small opening, until she opened her mouth fully and engulfed the swollen head. He grunted long and low. She purred around the head, sending shock waves down the rod and forcing the sensations of a thousand needles to radiate through his spine.
Her head moved left and right, as she slowly worked her way down his member, licking, sucking, and stroking with her tongue and fingers. When she had all of him in her, she looked back up into his eyes and grinned around a mouthful of cock. She bobbed up and down, twisting her hand back and forth, while feeling the blood course through his veins. She moaned, felt the wetness of her sex between her legs and fought the urge to dip her fingers inside. She knew the rules.
Instead of disobedience, she gave him discipline. She brought him close to the edge, then stopped, only to repeat the process over and over again. All the while she maintained eye contact, watching his face, reading his expressions and knowing when to pull back and when to deep throat him. When it was time, she knew by the color of his eyes and the way his lips pulled back in a grimace of lust.
She relaxed her jaw, dropped her shoulders slightly and took a deep breath to calm the beat of her heart, all control over herself given to him. Both fists were full of her hair as he began to fuck her with abandon. He controlled the speed and depth. He set and maintained the tempo he chose, and when he came, he showered her throat with his seed.
Her tongue worked vigorously to swallow the offering, until she was sure she had emptied him. She never once looked away as she drank him in. When he pulled her up, she showed him the last mouthful of semen, before obeying his command to drink it. She savored the last swallow, and she reveled at the look in his eyes, when he told her to rise and feed him her pussy.
The End.
Amateur Night at the Blue Nile
"Are we nearly there yet? This doesn't look anywhere classy." Clarissa tried to keep the petulance out of her voice. She knew she should be flattered by the stretch-limo and the Dom Perignon, glass number three of which was fizzing its way down her throat, but why the hell were they driving about dingy back-streets?
"Relax," her companion said. "Shoreditch is the new Soho. Home to all manner of delights. Where we're going is a different type of exclusive." The way he said it made her shiver like a thousand bursting champagne bubbles.
She tugged her white mini-dress, the one he had insisted she wear, down her bare thighs as a sop to demureness. Pearl earrings and necklace complimented; hair was swirled into a chignon. The picture of youth and beauty, sweet and languid as on the day of her debutante ball. The man beside her should be proud to have her grace his arm?though admittedly he looked fine in that tuxedo, carrying his upper body-mass with such suaveness and composure. Maddeningly he refused to fawn on her. Well she'd pander to his ego a while longer. Snare him the indirect route.
"We're here."
She looked about and saw nothing but a warehouse district. The limousine was wheeling towards one massive entrance sealed off by an iron partition.
"Gavin, we're not anywhere." She weighted the use of his name with condescension. Her father having introduced him as 'Mister McClain', it satisfied her to do so. She mightn't be the world's greatest secretary and employing her might have been a favour, but she'd got higher attributes and he'd damn well learn to acknowledge them.
"We're somewhere very particular," he responded, hand resting on hers, engulfing it. Despite her willowy height she felt little beside him. "Do you really think I'd take out a girl like you and not give her a night to remember?" She looked into his dark eyes and shivered anew. They drank champagne and her womanly pretentions dissolved in girlish excitement. Clarissa had no idea what was going on, but suddenly it felt like adventure.
The car paused, then a metallic rumble announced the partition's rising and they rolled into a huge floodlit space. A warehouse, swept clean but abandoned by all industrial pursuit.
"Where the hell is this?"
Gavin smiled wordlessly as the grey-uniformed chauffeur opened her door. She climbed out, her date joining her as she stared around the vast empty space. Nothing remarkable, aside from subterranean rhythms vibrating through the soles of her stilettos.
"Come with me." She took the proffered arm and the click of her heels echoed through the concrete hall as they walked to a downward-stairway at the rear. Music soaked though the walls as they descended around corners and Clarissa's heart pounded in time. She was about to be made privy to some delicious secret. One final corner and they confronted a miked-up and dinner-jacketed flunky guarding an iron door.
"Gavin McClain and companion. We're on the guest list."
The stone-faced guardian cracked a smile. "That's quite all right, Mr McClain. Have a good night sir."
"Thank you. I intend to. Birthday boy arrived yet?"
"He has, sir. He's being looked after."
"Very good."
Clarissa would have voiced her puzzlement, but her partner was guiding her through the now opened door into a covert reception area, till she could recognise the tune playing. "Inside and Out. I like this song. Gavin, where are we?" Gavin exchanged words with receptionist, as Clarissa tried to peer further. Then his arm was at her back and he was steering her down a curving passageway.
"Welcome, my dear, to the Blue Nile."
The corridor widened into a shimmering river of aqua-marine light. It bathed Clarissa and sucked her like a powerful current inside the high-ceilinged venue. Blue-white enveloped her like she was drowning in liquid crystal. Shimmering sexiness, enhancing the tide of beautiful patrons, male and female. Clarissa spun three-sixty, drinking it all in?the sparkling granite-topped furnishings and smooth undulation of the interior walls. "This place is amazing! Why don't I know about it?"
"It has a way of keeping its secrets. Drink?"
"Yes. Blue Lagoon." She giggled at succumbing to the power of suggestion.
The broad avenue split and curved around a circular central bar, to w
hich Gavin proceeded, leaving Clarissa to wander. Male patrons were dressed to the same level of refinement as her boss, their partners?in some cases numbering more than one?all high-class slink and poise. She gazed to points around the bar where the walls appeared to curve into chambers discreet from the rest of the room. Each one was flanked by security, a distinctly-coloured glow at odds with the blue of the main bar radiating from within?ochre, maroon or emerald. A young couple paused at the maroon entrance, the male partner flicking a card from his breast pocket for the security guy could check it. Granted a cursory nod, the couple passed through to be swallowed by the room's mysteries.
"What's with the all those crafty spaces around the sides?" Clarissa inquired, as Gavin returned with drinks.
"A Nile special feature." He pressed the Blue Lagoon into her hand and sipped his Scotch. "Themed lounges for guests who require, shall we say, some down-time. There's the Arabian Room, Egyptian naturally, a bit of sequined ooh-la-la in the Moulin Rouge ... And others more daring elsewhere. Staffed on request."
Clarissa was not sure whether to be entertained or appalled. "Is this place a ..."
"It's what you want it to be. Somewhere to drink, dance, socialize ... or to indulge in fantasy. The lounges are an option, as is the erotic cabaret. The Nile is only as exotic as any patron desires."
She stared at him, music thrumming through her body. His expectations eluded her, as did the precise nature of what she wanted herself. He was the only boss she'd ever had and her job hung by a thread, but she did not want to be out-manoeuvred in some sexual fantasy of his. "How exotic an evening were you banking on, Gavin?" She added an imperious tilt to her chin. "Are you expecting to show me around a lounge?"
"I wouldn't be so presumptuous," he said. "You're here as my guest, Clarissa, not my employee. And a girl like you must be so used to West End nightclubs and Michelin star restaurants. So at the risk of offending, I thought I'd surprise you with somewhere different. Purely to enjoy the ambiance and a frisson of danger. You're a girl who embraces danger now and then, right?"
Clarissa's lower belly warmed, not only due to her cocktail. She didn't like to admit how much this man fascinated her. "Maybe." She smirked, clinking his glass with hers. "And I'm not offended. It's nice to be brought somewhere so ... exclusive. Is it really such a big secret?"
"Put it this way ..." His mouth at her ear made her shudder. "You were lucky not to be blindfolded en route."
"Blindfolded?"
"Silk of course, in keeping with the establishment. Permanent members are concerned about anonymity. Cameras and recording equipment get confiscated and result in immediate expulsion. So, most guests are kept in the dark, literally, regarding location. I had to make a special arrangement on your behalf. Didn't want you to be too disconcerted on the way here."
"I'm flattered." The thought of a silk blindfold had Clarissa's heart speeding once more. "So why do you get preferential treatment?"
"The Nile's owner is a friend. And I assured him of your discretion."
"You know me that well? Sure I won't blab?"
His look was appraising. "You won't breathe a word, my dear. I'd bet my company on it."
Clarissa grinned her excitement. It all seemed improbably illicit and sexy. She tipped back her drink and the liquid trickled cool down her tongue as she contemplated her guide. A smile teased on her lips. One throwaway reference lingered.
"So Gavin, tell me about this erotic cabaret."
He returned her smile and downed his whiskey at a gulp. "My dear, I'll do better than tell you."
* * * *
The amphitheatre was huge and dark, lit by the stars which speckled its high ceiling. Clarissa and Gavin had a prime spot, their table only one tiered row above the semi-circular dais which served as a stage. She tippled on a third cocktail and glanced about for signs of a performance, the anticipatory buzz infecting her.
"You've seen the show before?" she inquired over the sound-sealed auditorium's modern jazz.
"Several. There's a rapid turn-over. The artistic director likes to keep things fresh and creative. And fun."
Clarissa nestled closer, more aware than ever of a massive athletic frame beneath designer trappings. "What kind of fun? You've got me all intrigued."
The fading away of music and dying of lights to a luminescent glow promised to answer her question before Gavin could. There was a breathless hush in which she could only hear the bang of blood in her ear. Then in surround-sound a male voice boomed: "Ladies and Gentlemen, prepare yourselves ... for Kong, Eighth Wonder of the World!"
Grandiose organ music erupted from the speakers and resounded as in a cathedral. Seamlessly the stage-machinery rolled into action. The dais proved half of a vast disc which rotated counter-clockwise along with the black wall that split it in two. In the dim light Clarissa made out a figure framed in a dark rectangle upon a shallow platform, being carried by the circular motion from backstage. She leaned forward in her seat, eyes peering wide to distinguish more through the gloom. Then the dais halted with the frame directly below her and spotlights lit from opposing sides of the dome, bathing the scene in twin pools of white light.
Clarissa's jaw dropped, hand stifling her shocked laughter. 'Kong' was a tall and brawny young man stretched out in a naked X within the ebony frame, dark hair draping behind him to his waist. He was swarthy but waxed clean of hair, the definition of his body enhanced by oil and sweat. The upper part of his face was obscured by a black ape-mask, firm-set mouth and jaw still apparent. Even more transfixing was the majestic erection that speared from his groin. The sophisticated girl from Chelsea gaped at the sight so boldly displayed in public. Applause and laughter was breaking out from around the amphitheatre.
Beside her Gavin chuckled and she turned, wondering what amused him. Then the speaker-voice boomed again and sealed her attention to the on-stage action. "King in his far-distant country, he now stands helpless in chains of adamantine." Kong writhed against his bonds?he appeared to be manacled hand and foot?pelvis thrusting like he was fucking thin air. "Helpless and forced to endure the whims of his young female captors."
The captors in question materialized from obscurity, either side of the stage, and stepped onto it in perilous heels, advancing on their prisoner. Both were petite but closing in with poise and confidence, dressed identically and minimally. They wore one-piece costumes of buckled-together leather patches, barely covering their more intimate fleshly regions. The outfits were strapped with chain behind necks and around waists, diving vertiginously between their thighs to band clean-waxed crotches. Jauntily balanced top hats, along with the flails they carried, provided a twisted ring-mistress effect, which they augmented by circling their captive, flicking him derisively with their multi-stranded whips.
Clarissa watched it all?Kong's body twitching each time leather thongs licked his torso, the girls' naked asses gobbling up their g-strings, the taunts on their pretty faces contrasting with his partially obscured grimace, as fingers began to tease. The flails they slotted into brackets either side of the frame, so that their palms could slither about Kong's chest, then his stomach and groin. Clarissa liked both girls, admired their teasing and control. That was how to keep a man: figuratively if not literally in chains. Rock-hard and at the mercy of your feminine wiles. The brunette with the bobbed hair was good?austere and cruel?but Clarissa preferred the blonde, hair tamed into a side-ponytail, eyes alive with mischief as she writhed her body and provoked her captured prey. He tore against his bonds and thrust his cock in vain as they massaged his body, licked his neck and applied flicking tongues to his nipples.
Organ music had turned to pumping dance and the rhythm drove the scene as they grabbed their flails, teasing the thongs about his quivering phallus, then lashing his chest and thighs with force. Clarissa was salivating, her pussy moistening in union with her mouth to see it all so close, the white light of the spots etching every erotic detail. She stared enthralled as the brunette girl embraced Kong from behi
nd, clutching hands to his chest as her blonde companion dropped to her knees and perched before his groin, tongue wriggling against the tip of his cock. Actual contact between tongue-tip and pulsing organ?Clarissa could scarcely believe it. The captive's body a mass of erotic torment as he strained against his bonds. God, she almost wanted him to succeed in his struggle for freedom ...
And then of course he did. The music had dropped to a hypnotic synthesized swell and was building back to a crescendo. Blonde had risen to kiss his perspiring face, brunette strutting back around the front to nibble his ear. Then the manacles snapped open. Kong had broken his bonds and hell broke loose with him. Rhythmic drum and bass exploded as he grabbed both fleeing captors by the hair, top-hats tumbling from their heads, hands letting go the flails. He thrust them to the floor before his mighty cock, venting a long roar.
Gavin laughed and applauded. "Good boy." Clarissa looked on, scared and enthralled, as Kong dragged the girls to him so that their heads masked his erection from the audience. He took the blonde first?was she really being made to suck on him or was it only simulated for the show? Her hair had come loose and was thrashing along with her whole body as though her mouth was working vigorously to placate his wrath. Her brunette companion followed suit, head bobbing frantically, while he roared in triumph to be fellated with such subservience and industry.
Kong appeared to alternate between his captors-turned-slaves until the service of their mouths was not enough. Up he arose, dragging them with him, his unsated cock thrusting tall. Then he cast them down theatrically one at a time so that they fell on hand and knees, faces to the audience. Both asses he pulled into the air, unfastening the costumes at the back so that g-strings fell away to allow clear access. Then having loosed another roar and smacked the proffered bottoms hard, he knelt to claim his prizes. Once again it was cunningly disguised as to whether or not he penetrated; Clarissa suspected not, but it still held astonishing power when he thrust behind the blonde and she jolted, mouth wide like that kingly appendage was slamming inside her.
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