by Sienna Mynx
Destini’s eyes dropped to his silky nest of curls. She pushed his pants off his narrow hips, and all of his manhood dropped free. She actually licked her lips out of desire for his glistening rod. She’d tried oral before on Russell, but he didn’t like it. She thought it was her and her inexperience that turned him off. She wished he had taught her. When her eyes scaled up to Mr. Whiskey, she was grateful. She would rather be his student instead. Shirking off Destini, she became Rain, because that’s what she thought he wanted and what she needed.
“Cover it. I want… I want to suck it,” she ordered.
Sir chuckled. “I plan to stick it in every hole you have tonight,” he answered.
He stepped out of his pants and shoes. Destini dropped down to roll his silk socks from his feet. She rose again, a little too anxious. But she couldn’t help herself. She ogled parts of his body as if she had never seen a man before. She was tempted to ask him to turn so she could see his ass. But instead, she just focused on his cock.
She backed away, the top of her head bumping the cuffs that dropped from the ceiling.
Sir approached her until the footboard of the bed stopped her. He nodded that it was okay to sit. She couldn’t explain it, but the silent communication was clear. She did as he wished. Following him with her eyes, she watched as he went to the side of the bed. The thin curtain from the canopy did little to conceal him. He came back with a strand of packaged condoms.
Thank God, because if he didn’t have them, the party was over. No way in hell she’d play with her life. She was already gambling with her soul.
She slid over the sheets, the silk material soothing her throbbing desire. The mattress was firm enough to not give but soft enough to welcome her. How many women had bounced, squealed, and writhed in pleasure there?
“Rain, introduce me to your pussy. Let’s get the formalities out of the way.”
She nodded and lowered her hands, going to the top of her knees. She parted her legs, realizing she was still in her high-heels. She put her sex on display. His eyes glistened in the candlelight. A sly smile formed as he studied her. She didn’t know what he saw and why he breathed heavy at the sight of it. But she understood his stroking of his cock was for restraint. She was the master of restraint. Now, she wanted it to be unleashed. However, for him, she waited and fought the urge to stroke and ease the ache between her legs.
When it became too much, she spoke up in a hoarse voice, thick and sultry. “If you want to meet her, then do it properly. A kiss sweetie. I’m hurting for you.” Was it Rain that made the naughty request, or her? It didn’t matter. It was the truth. It’s what she wanted. This night would be about her wants first. At least she hoped it was.
Sir’s eyes flipped up to her with an awareness she didn’t understand. He kept stroking that massive dick of his as a warning. She lowered her hands from her knees, resting the point of her heels on the mattress and parting her legs wider. Instinctively, she put a hand to the lips of her vagina and separated the lips. Her finger ran over her glistening jewel to fondle herself.
“Aaah,” she sighed, and relief cooled the inferno of her aching need. Her breasts were squeezed together by her closely pressed arms as she continued the self-gratification. Urgent was the slow up and down strokes before she dared to dip a finger in her tight pink hole. Her eyes fluttered and her thoughts of control slipped under the lull of the masturbation as her hips reached upward. What was he waiting for? To hell with him. He was right. This was something she should have done before, on all of those lonely nights. It was working. Hell, it was something she needed to get good at, since… well, since she had no other options.
Destini heard movement and felt a shift in the balance of the room. His hand roughly gripped her ankle. She opened her eyes as he dragged her to the edge of the bed. On his knees, he took hold of her legs and stretched them north into a wide V as he went face-first into her sex. His tongue, more magical than his fingers, did a full figure eight over her pussy and then stopped to lick it from the bottom to the top.
“Sheeeesh!” she cried out.
First, she gripped the sheets, then her breasts. She strummed and plucked them, amplifying her pleasure, just like she always wanted to. But it wasn’t nearly enough. She gripped the top of his head and pushed it down while thrusting her hips up. Wanting him to go deep, she nibbled on her bottom lip when he obliged. He darted his tongue in and out of her with lightning agility. Then he licked her clit and sucked it, teasingly slow. She bent her knees back but her quivering thighs taxed out her muscles and she lost strength in her legs. He groaned, now sucking so hard pain speared and pleasure followed to her core.
“Ouch,” she winced, causing him to slow his assault. She moaned.
She felt the coil of desire slowly unwound in her causing a flood of sensations that set her lips quivering. She arched up off the bed, thrusting her body at him and preparing for the volcanic eruption that she was sure would incinerate his tongue.
“Do-don-don’t stop,” she begged, gaining closure. She grabbed his head with both hands and forced him to remain, wincing as his hands held tight to her hips and his nails bit into her skin sharply. He was unnecessarily rough with his grip but she didn’t care. God help her, she couldn’t bring herself to object.
“I’m coming… I’m coomming… oh help me… yeah!” she writhed against his mouth shooting spurts of her cream over his tongue and collapsing. She kicked at his shoulder, the heel of her shoe surely delivering a bruising blow, but he didn’t flinch. She couldn’t help it. Something wild was set loose in that orgasm; it had her thrashing in madness. She wanted to crash, but his tongue plunged into her pussy and twirled. He never came up for air.
It was bliss…
It had to be the sweetest nectar he’d tasted in some time. Even her heady sexual scent smelled as sweet as a rose. He couldn’t break away. She was coming and squirming and he didn’t give a fuck about her agony. Damn, he wanted to die this way. Face right there. Tongue deep. And typically his pets wouldn’t get such a rewarding experience so early in his scenes. But this one needed to be relaxed, compliant, accepting. He’d forgotten his way. He’d forgotten his plans for Destini Sanders masquerading as Rain. Damn it to hell. He’d broken his own rules and enjoyed it.
Deep pelvic shudders rippled over his mouth; his face was wet with her essence. Finally, he forced himself away, having nearly spilled his own seed into the reservoir of his condom from just tasting her. This was a first. His unraveling was definitely a first. It was also a cursed waste! He wished for less impropriety so he could have shot a pearly stream over those brown tits and rubbed his cream into her skin before he throttled her ass for her disobedience. He tried not to be too unsettled. He’d get his tonight. Of that he was sure. He rose, licking his lips, watching her. She moaned, tightly hugging herself and squeezing her thighs. Her breathing came in short spurts. She was teasing him with her pleasure. He wanted to join in it.
Ripping off his condom, he tossed it aside. Sir slipped on another, willing his cock to behave. He was the master and his soldier knew the drill. This was an all-nighter, but he couldn’t go full force with her. He’d have to bring her down. Tame her pussy first and convince her of his love, which wasn’t hard since he’d be dreaming of this pussy for eternity. She’d walked the school campus in tight business skirts with her long brown legs perched by sensible shoes. He’d catch her nibbling on a pencil eraser as she ate her lunch alone in the cafeteria. He’d been hard on her. Given her the worst of jobs and she do it with a smile and even show him gratitude. She was his now. At last!
He crawled over her with his cock dragging over the sheet. The action drew her from her languorous rolls. She actually put a hand up as if to say she needed more time. He knocked it away and covered her. He would first get in her. Get in deep and then, after he got more control, he’d take her on the ride of her life.
Destini parted her thighs without coaxing and looked up at him with those eyes that made him want to be
gentle with her. She wasn’t meant for abuse. He knew that. Something in her soulful stare spoke of a need for tenderness. But he’d moved nearly the universe to bring about this chance encounter. And his sweet rose came to him for a purpose. Sir was more than willing to oblige her fantasy.
He brushed the head of his cock over her hole. Even through the condom, he felt the wet heat and wondered if her cherry ass was as hot or tight for him. Lifting and hooking her legs to the bend of his arms, he forced them back to her shoulders as he balanced on his knees and aimed for the plunge. Pinned, Destini squirmed, trying to brace for impact. Sir shot his hips forward with a deep thrust that drove a cry for mercy from her sexy pouty lips. Damn she was tight––impossibly tight. She was no virgin but he shuddered as her pussy gripped and tugged his cock to go deeper.
“Wa-ait… not ready yet,” she said, pushing at his shoulders to manage his weight and the assault. He gave her another deep thrust that caused her pleas to die in that slender pretty throat of hers. Dropping, he ran his tongue over her flesh. And to his delight, she stopped resisting. She would have to learn to trust him, and herself. She was fighting against the inevitable. She whimpered and he eased up on the thrusts of his hips to grant her a brief reprieve.
“Relax,” he groaned to her, as well as to himself.
The shock subsided. She scratched his arms, but her nails just raked down his sweat-slick biceps. He chuckled against her throat and pumped his way in deep, balls deep. Her pussy gave a little, stretched some more, and she weakened under him. His eyes rolled into his skull at the wet heat sheathed over his penis and he tried to ignore how much he loved it. Tried to. He thrust in and out of her, slowly, knowing it took time to adjust, but hurriedly enough to spare her no more time to object.
If she suffered for it, she didn’t show it, other than the weak scratches to his arms and back. He gripped under her ass. He worked his hips and instructed their rhythm. Like a good little pet she soon followed his instruction. A firestorm of pleasure exploded in his dick from her sweet surrender, the walls of her vagina clenching then unclenching with each plunge. “This pussy, this pussy, this pussy,” he mumbled over and over.
Destini whimpered, pleading with him for tenderness, too soon for her to even know when to use that word. All of it was too soon. He kept going. Fucking her now was a mission so sweet he bit into her shoulder to keep from unleashing. Fucking her was so sweet his toes cramped and his ass clenched. He felt her soft thighs tremble while locked around his waist. Fucking her was so sweet he lifted his head and begged her to give him ownership of this pussy forever more. A masked man she didn’t know was begging ownership. Should he reveal his identity? Spoil the fantasy. He knew better. Sir, however, did betray himself by telling her sinful things of how much he needed this, craved it, and searched the country for it. Fucking her was so sweet, he roared through the first orgasm of the night like a 16-year-old teenager busting his first nut.
He collapsed on her, panting and wheezing. He gasped, unsure of what happened in that moment. She was still. Quiet. He peered up from her breasts from behind his mask to find her eyes closed, and her brow furrowed. He had hurt her, and pleased her, and he assumed she struggled with deciding on which mattered more. He withdrew, not giving her time to recover. As she moaned, dazed, he backed away, taking gentle care to bring her with him.
Destini was barely able to stand when he walked her to the cuffs dropping from the chain links bolted to the ceiling. Confused, she blinked rapidly and looked up at him. “I… no more,” she said weakly.
Sir smiled. “We haven’t even started, sweet-lady.” He cuffed one wrist and then the other. By the time she came to realize her positioning, he was walking away.
Eight
Destini gazed up at the ceiling. Her arms were raised and her wrists fastened tightly within leather cuffs. She yanked on each and realized her folly. “Um, I think, well I think I’ve changed my mind. I’ve had enough,” she said, fear making her words a little too high-pitched. They overruled her warring emotions.
Sir looked back from the cabinet. The clear green in his eyes had changed. They were now the color of an approaching summer storm and wild as lightning. He cast a wicked smile over his shoulder before he shut the cabinet doors. Destini quivered between her legs. The sex on the bed, well, it was the best and most gratifying of her life. She was sure of it. But she was done. There was no more. The more was for exaggerated erotic tales in the pages of her book. A normal woman would have sexual tryst on her back and be done.
Destini blinked when he turned from the cabinet with a crop, the kind a jockey used to smack a steed when racing on a track. Sir snapped it out front of him, and it cut through the air in an audible hiss. It sent shivers up her spine.
He smacked his hand. His voice rumbled like distant thunder and his gaze sharpened. “Did you ever consider the punishment for removing your blindfold?”
“Punishment?” she stammered.
“Yes, lovely, the punishment for making me break my rules and take you before priming.”
“I don-don’t understand.”
“I want that cherry. It’s mine. You’ve been a naughty, naughty girl, teasing me the way you have.”
“I haven’t been teasing you. I don’t have a cherry. I’m no virgin.”
Sir nodded. “Yes, you are. Even your pussy remains tight after your neglectful lovers abandoned truly claiming it. But that cherry, you’ve kept it away from them. Haven’t you? Like a good girl. You saved it for me, for this moment. Let’s get it ready, shall we?”
“What are you going to do?” she asked, riveted by the black whipping stick, knowing the answer. He was nude except for his bandit’s mask. The disguise and the whipping stick sent a charge of excitement through her pussy that tickled her clit.
“The element of surprise is always the best introduction. You must learn the ways of submission. But it isn’t taught through forewarning. Now. Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know you. Let me go!”
Sir seemed unfazed by her request. He set the whipping rod down and picked up a black box. There was an insignia on the top of it. She blinked, though pearls of sweat dripped from her lashes into her eyes. Destini struggled to see. When he opened it, she got a good view. It was the same crest as the one on his ring. And she’d seen that crest before. Where?
“Who are you?” she asked, this time to herself and then to him. Somehow he was familiar. But she had no understanding as to why. Though she couldn’t see his face, his mannerisms and speech kept pushing her closer to naming him. She felt it.
Sir removed a long silver chain. It sparkled with three clamps––two on one end and one dangling off the other. He shot her a dark smile and approached. “I’m him, love. That’s all you will need to know. For now.”
“Him who?” she asked.
“Him,” he stated.
“Wha-what is that?”
He clamped the first piece to her right nipple and the pinch made her cry out in startled wonder. Then he clamped the other to her left nipple. “It burns,” she panted.
“You will adjust,” he said.
To her amazement, Sir was right. The sting and pinch lessened. She felt tingly on all three nubs. Strange. Her lashes fluttered shut, her mouth parted in a deep sigh. He rubbed her clit and it emerged from her folds. Then he clamped her there. Her eyes opened as she shuddered through a climax. It was painfully glorious. Soon Destini became dizzy with disillusionment.
Sir chuckled. “You have to open yourself to me. Let the emotion in. And I promise you it will please you. Do you trust me?”
Destini closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. If she moved, even breathed, she got a sting and then a cooling pleasure. “I don’t want pain, just pleasure. Why do I have to endure both? I don’t want pain.”
“Then you aren’t willing to pay the price to truly know the difference. Experience the kind of pleasure that you will never have to dream or play make-believe about again.”
&nbs
p; Destini’s eyes stretched open even further. What did he mean make-believe? Something went through her at the second coincidence of the night. He couldn’t possibly know who she truly was. She glanced over at the cigar shaped box on the table. The crest. Where had she seen that crest before? Where?
“Who are you? Do we... do you know me?”
Sir gave her another sly smile and strolled away with his cock bobbing. He reached into the box again. This time he pulled out a strange strand of glistening black pearls. Each one was a little larger than its predecessor on the strand. He picked up the rod next; snapped it out to slice the air about them.
Destini closed her eyes. “I’m confused.”
“It will all be clear to you soon.”
Sir came forward, his cock bouncing against his thigh and growing thicker. “Pain. Pleasure. Give me my cherry; let me have a part of you no man has had before.” He snapped whipping the rod.
Nervously, Destini dropped her head. She shook it slowly. “This is wrong.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because––”
“Because you fear me?” he asked.
Slowly, she lifted her head. “Yes. I fear you and I fear me.”
“Then let me show you why you shouldn’t. Let me free you.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You will learn.”
Sir’s smile broadened. He circled her, smacking the rod against his thigh with such force each whack made her jump. Following his instructions would be hard, but she willed her body to remain still. She ignored the sting to her nipples and clit and willed herself to relax. She’d never been hit. Never. Not even as a child. She couldn’t fathom why a person would want to. To her horror, her stomach fluttered with excitement.
Sir parted the nether lips to her vagina to flick his finger at the diamond clamp. Destini shuddered through another climatic jolt and her eyes bulged. Her cry lodged in her throat, stunting her breathing. “You’re so beautiful.”