I began to cum again, screaming now with no thought of anything but the surging energy. I felt an electric current sizzle through me. Not just pleasure, but pain seemed to explode through every nerve.
“I can’t anymore! Please! Stop!” I finally screamed.
Casey didn’t respond. He watched me writhe and pressed his hand to my face, which seemed to calm me for a time, but I still moved in the terrible erratic motion. When another hard spasming climax jolted my system, Casey finally reduced the action of the two fucking pricks until the machine came to a stop. While my body stopped moving, it seemed as if it continued to jerk and spasm for a long time afterwards.
Casey released my hands and carried me to his bed, setting me on my hands and knees so he could mount me from behind. He entered my cunt first, riding it hard, but not to the finish; for that, he used my ass. I felt as if my entire crotch had been split in two and burned inside and out. I feared it would never be the same again.
“It’s going to ache a lot for the next few days. In fact, you’ll probably get a little obsessed with riding my machine again.”
I couldn’t believe that was possible in the hour after this first thrill ride, but I wasn’t objecting to anything. I was too exhausted for anything but sleep.
***
Casey was right. When I woke up the morning following the amazing ride on his sex machine, I realized that I’d dreamt of it all night long. My body was already at the edge and I had to masturbate before I even got out of bed.
The next few days were filled with not only the mental but also the physical memory of the fucking machine. Just once and I was addicted? I wanted another reckless ride. I dreamt of it being harder, faster, more intense. I wanted Casey to crank it up full blast. The thing did something to my psyche and my sense of being that rattled me, but was so wonderful that I had to have that feeling again.
I went back that next weekend and rode the wild pony to the same delirious conclusion. Again, Casey cranked up the power, again I came, putting myself on an intense high until Casey decided that I’d had enough and pulled me off. This time, I stayed with him the night and in the wee hours of the next day, I took a second ride on the fucking machine. My body responded almost instantly to the powerful surges of energy, and my demented mind screamed at him, “Beat me!”
I saw him staring at me wonderingly.
“Yes! Beat me!” I repeated. My eyes must have glowed like those of a feral beast.
He got the message and left for a moment, returning with a doubled leather belt in his fist. He smacked my ass first, burnishing the skin, and I screamed over and over in my cumming ecstasy. He moved to my front side and pelted my breasts back and forth with slashing, hard strikes, taking cues from the way I begged for more. Yes, this was the heaven I needed. The punishment, the pleasure. Everything worked together creating a feeling that afterwards I could only describe as bliss. Bliss—it seemed too weak a word, but it perfectly described the sensuous glow that settled in around me when the session ended.
The act was perfectly selfish—of course, Casey got to use me afterwards any way he wanted. By then, I was pretty adept at giving head and taking it in any portal.
All this seemed enough. For three weeks it seemed enough. But it was like a fix; my addiction; I had to go back. The fucking machine was all I wanted, all I thought I needed.
The fourth Friday arrived and I went directly from the office to the carnival. I was particularly anxious this time. Just my mounting sexual energy I thought. But there was something creepy about the way I felt as I stopped my car at the curb. I couldn’t pinpoint the feeling, and at the same time, it didn’t stop me from making my way to Casey’s little den of sexual wonders.
We ate pizza—his idea. Then I waited for my food to settle before I climbed on the machine.
“You mind? I have someone who wants to see this in action.”
“What?”
“Just for a minute or two.”
“No.” I shook my head, “I can’t do that!” He still had no idea who I was. He didn’t have at TV; nor did he read the papers or any magazine where my picture would appear. He didn’t seem to do anything much but fiddle with his machines; the fucking machine was just one of his many inventions.
“Why not? The guy needs to see it demonstrated.”
“Who is this guy?”
“Name’s John. John Westerhouse. I first met him at one of those kinky sex conventions; he’s from back East. Looked me up and wanted to buy one. But he’s only seen the prototype; he needs to see the final version before he’ll part with his cash.”
I wanted to believe this was a safe move, but even in my aroused state, filled with the obsessive desire to have my weekly fix, I couldn’t allow it. “Only if my face is hidden,” I said.
“What?” Casey looked at me strangely. “Why’s that?”
“I can’t…”
“What you’re some bigwig in your other life?”
This was dangerous territory. What if…no; I didn’t want to go down that road thinking Casey was capable of blackmail.
“I’m no bigwig, Case, I’m just shy. I mean, I’d be so embarrassed if I met this guy somewhere. You know, it’s kinda private, between us.” I sidled up to him affectionately. “Please.”
“Okay,” he chucked. “Would a latex mask do?”
“You have one?”
“Yeah, I just happen to have one. I wanted to take pictures of one of my girlfriends riding one of my early machines. She insisted on the mask.”
“See, other women are modest too.”
He laughed as he went into his back room and after some time finally emerged with a red latex mask.
“Oh, how pretty!” I liked the bold red color.
Casey fitted the mask over my head and I was immediately taken back to the dungeon and the leather hood. This fit even more snugly than that one, but it was more comfortable, more like real skin. There were no holes for eyes, just a place to breathe and a small hole for my mouth.
“Just big enough for a cock to fit,” Casey explained, looking very much as though he planned to use that mouth hole and very soon.
I climbed on the machine moments later while Casey fixed the wrists cuffs above me. Soon as he started the motor, I began to fly again and was lost in my erotic stupor. If anything, the mask turned me more inward. I forgot that there was even a man in the room—two men for that matter. By the time I heard the muffled voices, they sounded far away. As my body fed on one orgasm after the next, I wasn’t even curious about who was watching. Casey adjusted the power higher than I’d ever gone before. My breasts were bouncing before their eyes. My wet pussy slathered the machine with my juices, my muted cries still rose in the air beyond me, and I came and came again, and for the third, maybe fourth time came at the highest setting so far. I didn’t want him to stop it and almost cried when the machine abruptly halted.
“I’ll take him outside to talk. You stay right here,” Casey whispered to me.
Stay right there. I couldn’t go anywhere as long as I was still bound.
For a few minutes I heard the sounds of distant voices. A solemn silence followed, then Casey opened the door and moved back inside.
After he peeled the hood over my head and released the cuffs, I serviced his cock on my knees.
“I shoulda just used that hole in the latex,” he said, laughing thinly. His eyes looked darker, and were filled with a terrible lust I’d never seen in him. But I understood. He’d gone where I’d seen other men go, Garrison and Robert to be exact…into a sadistic place. Any pleasure I derived from the brutal mouth-fuck that followed would be a masochistic one for me. But I could feel our relationship staring to take new turns I longed for. The fucking machine was good, but I still wanted more.
After fucking my mouth until I gagged on his cum and I gulped it down, we lay on his bed and rested.
“You know, I’m working on another machine,” he told me. He’d rolled onto his side and ran a single finger al
ong my sweaty side. It tickled.
“Really? Another one like this one?”
“Nope. On this model you’ll be flat on your back, stretched out, legs open, knees bent, two dildos again, but also suction cups for your tits.”
“Wow.” I turned his way, my interest piqued. Already my breasts ached.
“You don’t mind pain, do you?” he asked.
“Sometimes it’s all I want to feel.”
“Hum? Maybe I should make you a spanking machine?”
“Maybe.” My eyes lit a little devilishly.
“How about I just spank you?” he asked.
“That would do, too. But I’ve got to feel that it’s justified, not just for fun.”
“Justified? As in you earned it?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s more justified than your coming down here and behaving like a tramp, huh? Dirty little whore that you are.”
I love dirty talk when I’m horny.
“Okay, I guess that means I deserve it.”
“Damn right.”
I didn’t have to prompt him more. He sat up, pulled me over his lap and began spanking me hard and fast with the palm of his hand. I don’t ever remember any plain old-fashioned spanking that was that long and that hard.
Maybe I’d get everything again, I wondered afterwards. As I drove away from the carnival, my ass still burned as it wiggled on the leather car seat. Maybe.
It didn’t occur to me at the time that I was going home to a faraway part of the city, alone. No man would be snuggling in my bed, or drinking coffee over scrambled eggs and muffins in the morning. My sexual adventure still lacked some important things, like basic honesty and a deeper intimacy. I guess I wasn’t ready for anything more either way.
Chapter 12
I lay down on the bench of Casey’s new toy—the demo model we were all told, all meaning myself and several others in the room that I couldn’t see. We used the latex hood again since it perfectly hid my identity.
I reflected back on the words of the dungeon master who challenged me to reveal myself on the night of his exotic ball. Some days, in fact, on many days, that was exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to give up my fancy, corporate life, give up everything for the pleasure, the risk, the danger, and I didn’t care who knew what a slut I was. It was a good thought, but I wasn’t that brave. My conscience always kicked in—or maybe it was the words of Robert Harrington, who’d warned that he wouldn’t let me take the company down with my risky behavior. Despite the fact that he no longer disciplined me, I had the feeling he’d still be there to set me straight at the first sign of any careless act that would compromise the magazine.
The latex mask was fine…I needed its protection.
It was another Friday evening and I was prepared to adore another mechanical lover, while forgetting everything in my life that troubled me. Casey buckled my arms to the horizontal struts above my head. He wrapped a thick strap about my torso, then he strapped my knees and feet into stirrups that looked somewhat like those on a medical examination table—in fact, the machine’s design started with a used exam table. My crotch was splayed, exposing both my ass and my steamy, dripping cunt. I breathed heavily, feeling the weight and tightness of the straps remind me of how well I was bound. My breasts were placed inside a pair of rubber-coated metal cups, which would tighten down; their mechanical action designed to erotically massage my breasts. The more restraint, the more my gnawing arousal expanded.
The mechanical part of the machine was similar to his original floor model. But if that one sent me to nirvana, this new one did the trick much faster, better and more completely. It wasn’t just my pussy and my bowels fully exercised; now my breasts felt a pulsing, erotic stimulation. I was powerless to control anything; my mind vacated while my voice, my screams rose unconsciously from the anguish and the pleasure. My psyche battled back and forth, not knowing what to feel or what to desire. I became lost in the endorphic high and remember little until I realized that Casey was ratcheting down the intensity to a point were I became conscious again.
While returning from that incredible high, I felt someone tugging on the latex hood. I instinctively struggled against the action, but could do nothing to prevent the mask from being removed from my head. Seconds later, as I became aware of who stripped me of that protection, Casey revved the machine up again. I was cumming more, but this time staring into Garrison Tate’s eyes. I tried to scream. I wanted the fucking thing off! I wanted out of the room! Off the planet! Anywhere but in that room with that damned bastard hovering above me, lust, judgment and disgust pouring from his eyes.
I tried to speak, but I couldn’t say a blessed thing!
All I could do was close my eyes and try to prevent my body from feeling the intensity of the machine. I’d already been on it longer than I was ever on the other one. I could feel myself beginning to cry out. Apparently, Casey finally sensed my mounting distress and he slowly geared the machine down until it stopped.
He leaned over me, lightly tapping my face. “Ellie, it’s done, girl. I’m sorry you’re upset here. I told him that you didn’t want your face seen. He shouldn’t have done that.”
I didn’t want Casey to know any more than he had to about the other man in the room—it seemed as though the rest of his guests had left.
“I just couldn’t take any more,” I said. “I want to go home.”
“You don’t have to leave.” He looked worried as he began undoing the straps that bound me to the bench.
“Yes, I do. It’s just too much.”
He lifted me from the machine and helped to the bed, giving me a robe to cover my body. I lay silently while the two men talked—I didn’t dare look their way. Then Garrison left and I was alone with Casey again.
“I don’t think I like the other men here,” I told Casey later. “They distract me. Make me feel all wrong.”
“Okay. No problem. I’ll find some other demo girl. I will.” I could see that he was scared.
Demo girl? What? Was he planning an infomercial? It all seemed pretty absurd for a time, but I eventually revived. He was very kind and more attentive to me than he’d been before. I suppose he realized what he had to lose.
But why Garrison? Why was he there?
“Why did he take off the mask?”
“I don’t know. I never saw the guy until today. He was John’s friend, John Westerhouse. The guy I told you about.”
“So, what happened to John?”
“He stepped out for a smoke, along with the other two guys.”
Which gave Garrison Tate the perfect opportunity to expose me.
I managed to calm down enough to stay another hour. But we didn’t have sex; I think Casey was more worried that I was going to stop coming. We talked and he gave my shoulders a decent massage. He even walked me to my car when I decided to leave. Although I couldn’t wait to get home and ground myself in my own environment, I also knew I would return.
I hadn’t gone a block when I realized that there was a car tailing me—a car I knew well. I pulled over and hopped out. Oh, I had a lot to say!
“What the fuck are you doing tailing me here?” I cried as I charged toward Garrison Tate. We practically slammed together from the force of our collective anger and stood just inches apart.
Yes, he was angry too, but that cold, distant anger. A judgmental anger.
“Protecting you, slut girl,” he spat back at me coolly.
“Protecting me? You lousy asshole. I don’t need your protection.”
“And I beg to differ with you.”
“Well, aren’t you Mr. High and Mighty. You pushed me into this sexual gutter, now you want to watch me grovel there, just so you can have the satisfaction of pulling me out.”
He laughed. I hated that. “Well, that is a fine picture, isn’t it?”
“Stay away from me.” I turned away and moved toward my car.
“You keep this up, Ellie, you’re gonna get fired.”
I turned back, seething. “What I do in my private life, as long as it remains discreet, has no impact on my job.”
“You’re treading in dangerous waters.”
“Maybe I like it dangerous.”
“It’s time to stop, Ellie.”
“You stay away from me, Garrison. I’ll do anything I want and I don’t really care what you think about it.”
***
I returned to see Casey on the next Friday as I usually did; I needed another fix. He greeted me at the door but wouldn’t let me in.
“Not tonight. I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean not tonight? I thought we had a date.”
“We did. But it got canceled.”
“Canceled?”
“Yeah, canceled, like it’s not going to work out.” He couldn’t look me in the eye.
“You could have called.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m bad about that.” He was strange; much the same as Garrison was strange weeks ago.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry. That guy…”
“What guy?” Then it dawned on me. “The guy that pulled the hood off?”
“Yeah, that guy.”
“What about him?”
“He came here earlier today and handed me a check. I’ve never seen that much money in my life. He said it was compensation for my time. I said, sure, I’d stay clear of you. Not that it wouldn’t be fun, but… I could really use the money.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “He paid you off?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
My mouth must have dropped to my knees. “I can’t believe it.” I circled around in a daze. Garrison paid Casey off. What the fuck…
Poor Little Rich Slut Page 17