by David Saxon
“Ooooh!” Small mewlings escaped her lips as I delved within. She pushed herself against my face. It was a delicious suffocation which made me all the more eager. I was lubricating the way with plentiful saliva and fingering the tight orifice as I pushed in with my stiffened tongue. Soon she was ready for me to enter what I knew was a virgin passage. Every nerve tingling, taught, resonating with the overtures of love that forced her to press her bottom back into my face. My hand slid between her legs and felt the hot, wet folds of her pussy and I knew that she had reached the pinnacle of desire. Her hand encountered mine and thrust it aside. Her fingers worked into her pussy with violence, drawing forth squiggy sounds.
“Fuck me ... fuck my arse, you bastard ... fuck me, fuck me pleeeeasse!”
I got to my feet, feeling breathless and weak with need of her. My stiff crest was demanding in its hardness, the purple head a rounded velvet crown on a pillar of hard, veined flesh that could no longer be denied. I placed my cock at the portal of my desire and pressed against her rose hole. Its resistance was magical. It inflamed my desires to fever pitch. I pushed harder and was rewarded with my crest entering its tight new home. The head of my cock was engulfed in the delicious warm hole.
“Push harder, you bastard, split me open, fill me up ... now!”
I pushed more and none too gently and in a single smooth movement slid right in so that her cheeks were pressed gratefully into my groin.
The frequent and prolonged dildo penetrations had opened her to my pleasure. The moment was of such magnificence that I had to concentrate one at a time on the great number of sensations that were consuming me. Those warmed, sweetly pink cheeks pressed against me were the visible manifestation of my joy, a kind of salute to the intense feeling of my cock being held a willing prisoner in Kerry’s secondary love tunnel. From my head to my toes every nerve was strung tight. My whole body was centred on my embedded cock. It was as if I could give my whole rigid self to this delicious woman and die willingly in the embrace. I held still for a long time savouring the ardent pleasures but soon Kerry began to move beneath me undulating her heated body to create the necessary friction of the lovemaking she craved.
Her face was turned sideways on the cushions of the settee so that I could see her suffused cheeks and her working tongue licking her parted lips. It was a portrait of unbridled lust. Loud incomprehensible mewlings sounded deep in her throat. Her eyes were closed. Her hands clutched at the cushions spasmodically and in time with my slow movements in and out of her tightly gripping hole.
We moved gently together, each drawing from the other every small tingling sensation combined to create the wonderful excitement of bodily penetration. I knew that postponement of this incredible moment would bring its own reward but never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined it would be so stunningly, so consumingly exciting nor so truly an act of love. I plunged in and out of her rose hole, watching the wonderful clutching of her ring as it distended around my huge charger. Her internal heat was an all-consuming furnace into which I had to pour my soothing elixir. I belaboured her arse enthusiastically enjoying the slap of her rear against me at every vigorous thrust.
She wobbled fleshily. I grabbed her hips and plunged in again and again until, goaded beyond endurance. With a great howl, as if I was baying to the moonlit night, I shot my balm into her very bowels. She drew from me a magnificent out-pouring that lathered her insides so smoothly and sweetly that I, fallen over her body, continued to slide in and out emptying myself with slippery ease. We remained conjoined in that joyful tableau for a long, long time until my spent charger softened. Kerry demanded that I stay within her. I could feel her love tube pulsating around my semi-flaccid cock with such amazing insistence that he was already rising to the challenge of a rematch. It took massive will power to withdraw from that tight sheath but there was work to be done. Slowly, reluctantly, I uncorked from her with a tiny plopping sound and watched her rose hole slowly clench. That delicious tight aperture was now available for my pleasure at any time. Too much of a good thing all at once could dull the senses. I pulled my eyes away from the wonderful sight.
Restored to equanimity, I raised her to her feet. She was shaking in the aftermath of the new and all demanding route to paradise. I cuddled her for some minutes, willing her to understand the incredible tie between a man and a woman, knowing the ultimate joy of the physical leading to the bondage of the heart; knowing the real meaning of a woman’s being at one with her partner. She told me she loved me. I needed her to understand the difference between love and lust. It was the huge challenge of my work to let her explore and understand those feelings without causing her any more than transient unhappiness when the time came for me to return her to her husband. It is upon him she had to bestow all the love I am teaching her. It has been, on occasions, particularly with Jenny whom it took several months to correct, something of a challenge for me to resist emotional ties. Hitherto, despite this, I had managed to remain dispassionate and business-like but Kerry was doing things to me against which I had to desperately harden my heart.
“Work!”
I fitted a stiff leather, padded, collar and locked it around her neck. It was designed to keep her head up was fitted with a fine link chain that divided into two parts just above the breasts one leading loosely to each of the nipple clamps which she now wanted to wear constantly. Despite my warning her that the releasing of the clamps would let the blood flow back into those delicious nubs and that it would be painful, she grew to like it as much as the pain of their being squeezed so tightly. Thus, without undue stress to Kerry I was able to remove the clamps when I needed to suckle from those beautiful, pained nipples and, when I had taken my fill of her delicious milk, re-apply the clamps as necessary. There was as much pleasure in releasing them as there was in re-fitting them. Kerry’s pain threshold was astonishingly high.
Her chores included the making of my bed, which I never allowed her to share, that being an intimacy too far. It was a luxurious couch of kingly proportions in which she must have harboured desires to sleep but, much as we would both have liked it, I had to preserve the slave/master relationship. I did make the concession allowing her to sit on the bed while I stood before her offering my cock to her willing mouth.
She had to understand that she was to give of herself whenever her husband demanded it but I was beginning to find her new submissiveness a bore. I needed the challenge of subduing a recalcitrant and rebellious woman. That is not to say that I was satisfied with her progress, no! She had much to learn and chores around the house were vital lessons on her route to being an acquiescent and devoted wife.
I put upon her the duties of cleaning all the machinery I used upon her and was astonishing at just how much care she lavished on the chastity belt and on the bar and subsequently on the saltire and the milking machine. She handled them with dedicated reverence and all were polished to perfection. I imposed upon her all washing up duties and I also expected her to rake out the fires, black lead the fire baskets and fetch in coal and logs. In all these chores I allowed her wear gloves to preserve the softness of those manipulating hands. She always managed to get herself deliciously dirty, obliging me to give her a dozen counted strokes with the tawse and then take her to the bathroom for a thorough ablution, missing nothing in lathering her smooth skin with great quantities of scented soap. I allowed her no privacy whatsoever. Perhaps the most entertaining exercise was the beating of the carpets. I offered her no modern conveniences and for the carpets there was no exception. At first she hated the job with a passion and showed me the fiery side of her temperament, not yet fully restrained, with verbal abuse and stubborn refusal. I persuaded her with the threat of a whipping with stinging nettles. She glared at me but at last gave in.
I demanded that every mat and rug, (there were no fitted carpets in my house), had to be taken outside and thrown over a line where she was obliged to beat them with one of
those old fashioned cane contraptions like an open work bat. I loved to watch the movements of her naked body during this exertion.
Her breasts would jiggle as if with a life of their own. The cooler the weather the harder she worked to keep herself warm. It was a magnificent pantomime. Svelte, amenable and acquiescent, she did all she could to please me and bent to her daily punishment willingly enough. She would bring me the tawse when she felt she needed chastisement and would pout sulkily when I refused.
One day, it had been particularly cold when I demanded that she beat the carpets and rebelled against my cruelty so again I brought her to heel with the suggestion that she might be thoroughly warmed up by a whipping with that bundle of stinging nettles.
“Don’t you love me anymore?” She whined in a small voice. “No!”
I, too, spent much of my time in the house naked and I know that she loved to try and tease me into erection whenever she had the chance. Daily punishment and a suckling of those milk-laden breasts usually did it for me but I must needs exercise rigid self-control if, dear reader you will accept the pun. Excessive indulgence, however desirable, would be my undoing. I got frighteningly close to that edge when I first put Kerry to the milking machine.
She was confined on her hands and knees within the apparatus and it restricted her movements as much as does an iron maiden. I had not expected those put to it to go willingly. Kerry’s breasts with swollen with milk and must have been painful. At least that was my interpretation of her willingness to be put to the merciless machine. I fitted the large clear plastic cups to her breasts clipping them together over her back like a brassiere. Inside at the top of each of the cups was a rubber suction cap designed like a pair of lips that could be screw-adjusted to close over the nipple. A tube led from each cup to a reservoir tank. Kerry was curious about the whole thing and rather enjoyed the fitting of the cups. I think she was quite looking forward to being milked because, as she admitted, her bulging breasts, magnificent orbs both, were full and she was eager to feel the machine pumping.
She had come a long way from the worry about her breasts becoming sagging dugs in later life. Perhaps that was because she had worn no kind of support for them since she had been put in my charge and the demand in the supporting ligaments and muscles had tightened them nicely. When I started the pump, slowly at first, the rubber lips contracted tightly over her nipples and began the pulsating sucking designed to draw out the milk. Kerry’s head was bowed as she watched intently the first product of her breasts flow down the tubes. I heard her sigh. It was an evocation of the huge pleasure she was getting from her body performing the tasks it was designed for. In that sigh too, I think I detected sadness. I raised her head by putting fingers beneath her chin and then kissed her fully on the lips. As I did so I turned the knob that increased the power. The rubber lips sucked harder. Kerry mewled within the kiss. Her lips and tongue worked on mine so ardently that in a very few moments I was raised to full manly rigidity. Because I was kneeling in front of her it was no difficult task to offer my cock to her willing mouth. Held in my hand I directed it between her delicious full lips. They closed over the head and she swirled her tongue over it enthusiastically. The moist velvety touch of it was miraculous. It swept over the head wetly before she pointed it and tried to enter the little hole. She played on it for some time drawing out the clear droplets of my pre-cum. Because she was imprisoned in the milking machine I was able to control the extent of this exquisite pleasure in her succulent hot mouth. Easing back I held just the head of my burgeoning cock at her questing lips or, when the desire took me, I plunged forward so that my whole weapon was within that warm and eager cavern. I always switched off the machine just as I was coming in her mouth. I could feel now my hot spunk rising up the length.
I cried out with the joy of it and revelled yet again in the ecstasy of inundating her beautiful mouth. She mewled round my shaft as I drove into the back of her throat. Her lips clamped round the vein-swollen pole and I exploded with a cry filling her mouth. I switched off the machine and let her draw from me every last drop of my nectar. Only when we had both calmed down did I release the cups and let them drop away from her hot, engorged tits. I reached for them and massaged them until my flaccid cock dropped from her mouth. Then I swung myself under her to lather those sore nipples with my tongue and draw out, with avid suction, the milk that remained in her. There were times when I just could not help myself. Regrettably the affinity I seemed to have with this beautiful and now, submissive, woman meant that, in spite of myself, I was beginning to fall in love. Never before in my years of counselling had I been held so tightly in love- bondage by a woman. I disliked the uncharted waters into which I was being led. Hitherto I had been able to manage the situation and dismiss the tutored and corrected woman with nothing more than a natural pang but now things were becoming very difficult. Too many times now I had disobeyed one my own essential golden rules and permitted myself a kiss on the lips of this tantalizing woman.
The climax occurred when Kerry came running in from outside where she had been beating a carpet. She had the thing rolled up in her arms but had got herself sodden and chilled by a sudden cloud burst. She dropped the carpet on to the floor where it rolled itself out flat and she stood before me shivering, silent but close to tears. Her hair hung in dripping rat tails. She made such a picture of wanton, abandoned lust, a forlorn waif unhappily stranded, breasts heaving, eyes gleaming with sullen contempt that my heart softened. After a moment of contemplation of her full lips stretched over pearly teeth in a joyless smile, I was moved to understand an attractive contradiction in her personality. It was something so deep in her psyche that I could never erase, nor yet indeed, even wanted to. At last she was revealing to me the full magnificence of her character and I knew that I had been absolutely correct in judgement of her and struck gold with the methods I had used to correct her. The trouble was that I had been too successful and she evidently loved me for it. Colour had risen in her face. Her smooth skin, gleaming with the droplets of rain and with its own translucence begged for the caress my hands. The mat of her blonde pubis held little glinting diamonds of moisture. She saw my glance towards it at swivelled her pelvis in mute offering. There was mischief aglow in her eyes as she spread her legs and with a finger stroked the concealed lips. Her other hand she carried over her clamped nipples tracing the contours of her full breasts and drew a finger into her mouth. She swung her head sideways playing the perfect coquette. Her eyes never left me. She spun round to show me her bottom and with the hand that had lately traced her pussy lips now stroked the great orbs of her arse as she bent slightly to offer me that sweet plugged channel for which she now had a great letch.
Needless to say in all this silent seduction my rampant cock had risen to gigantic proportions so rigid that it hurt. The great purple head glowed and the heavily veined pillar throbbed with a life of its own. My balls hanging heavily in their sack ached with the weight of cum boiling and demanding to be released. At that moment I was lost.
I took the two steps necessary to close with Kerry and bent my head to kiss her. Why did I kiss her so often? It is an intimacy too far, an intimacy so personal, more personal than mere fucking, that it had the power to cement a relationship absolutely and irrevocably. This I was not supposed to be doing but I could not help myself. That I was making a rod for my own back I ignored at great risk to my personal undoing. I took each of her fabulous, hard breasts into my hands, my thumbs grazing over the nipple clamps and then in a moment of wild abandon quickly unscrewed them both and threw them away. I wanted Kerry unsullied, unblemished, free to be her new and exciting self. I wanted her to give herself to me without restraint.
“Oooooh!” She squealed at the pain of release and of blood returning to her nipples and pulled my head down so that my mouth was close to the left one. Her message was clear. I took the poor little tortured nub into my mouth and laved it gently, caressing away the pain
with my wet tongue. Milk flowed from it. I let it fill my mouth and swallowed avidly the sweet nectar. My hands were busy with her other nipple from which milk was flowing freely. I spread the warm flow over the skin of her breast, revelling in the slickness under my working fingers.
We two of us slowly sank to the floor, entwined in each other’s arms. My hands reluctantly fell away from her glorious tits as she pressed on my shoulders to lay me flat on my back. She looked down upon me from a kneeling position and took her breasts, one in each hand, manipulating the nipples so that more milk flowed. She let it fall upon my body until there was a small lake in my concave belly. She soaked her hands in it then took them to my burgeoning charger and rubbed gently up and down its length. Everything around us dissolved. We two were alone on the planet or, perhaps we were the planet, floating in space absorbed in our own orbit. I watched my proud cock as Kerry stroked it slowly up and down drawing out sensations which even I, as a counsellor, barely knew were there for the taking. Suddenly my view was gone as Kerry swept her body over me and lowered her red-hot pussy on to my mouth. Her juices were flowing and soon they deluged my face, my tongue, my whole mouth so that I had to swallow quickly to avoid drowning. I gulped down the hot viscous fluids, savouring the sweetness and marvelling at the cascade. It was almost as if she was peeing into my mouth and in that moment of absolute abandonment I wouldn’t care if she was. I would have taken it down just as thirstily as I was now drinking her very nectar. What was I doing? Hell’s bells! The bloody woman was taking charge!