Fifty Shades of Fairy Tales Omnibus

by Roxxy Meyer, Leigh Foxlee

  Then I slowly fucked his ass while I went back to pleasuring his cock. I slurped at the sides of his shaft while I thrust in and out of his anus. I deep throated him when I plunged the plug as deep as it would go.

  “You have to let me free, Mistress,” my bound lover growled from his position at the bedpost. “I can’t take this torture anymore. I need to touch you both.”

  Still I shook my head. “When he cums, you get to join us. Not until.”

  He looked at Robert. “Hurry up and cum.”

  I looked up at the submissive’s big brown eyes and said, “Don’t listen to him. We’ve got all night.”

  That sent my bound lover into a rage, and he shook his chains, snarled curses, but I kept my attention focused on my submissive until he let out a shrill cry and I knew he was about to climax. I pulled him out of my mouth and told him to “Cum all over me then lick me clean.”

  Creamy, white seed spurted from his plump cock head and trickled over my breasts. It hit my face and neck and I licked droplets from my lips, making sure to face my bound lover when I did so to further drive him mad.

  “Let me loose!” he screamed.

  I shook a finger at him. “You didn’t say please.”

  He looked ready to explode. Through gritted teeth, he begged, “Please?”

  So I let him go and told him he could join us. He wasted no time, after I unfastened the collar and cuffs, in climbing on the bed and getting into the play. First he helped our submissive lick me clean.

  After an ardent make out session, I pushed him back and confessed, “I want to watch you fuck our submissive while I fuck you.” Then I grabbed the strap-on from among the sex toys.

  He looked at the toy and then at me, smiling his Cheshire smile. “I was hoping you’d choose that, but I thought our sub would be on the receiving end.”

  “Oh, he will, when you fuck him. But I’d like to see you take a cock, too,” I told him, before delivering a scorching kiss to his mouth.

  When he broke away, we were breathless. Once he recovered, he said, “I said this was a switch situation--”

  I put a finger to his lips and let a sassy grin spread across my face. “I’m not ready to switch it up just yet.”

  I pushed him down and told our submissive to join our little party. We kissed and licked, suckled and tormented, every inch of our prone lover’s body. I flit my tongue over his nipples, teasing them while our submissive sucked his cock rock hard. Then I applied jeweled clamps to both his nipples.

  I tugged him to his knees using the chain connecting the clamps, then I told our submissive to get behind him. While our submissive stroked his big hands up and down my lover’s latex-clad chest, cupped his exposed balls and then milked his cock, I watched, growing wetter and hornier by the second. It was so hot watching these two gorgeous men make out.

  I told our submissive to get to his knees so my lover could slide his thick, long cock inside his ass. Before my lover did so, he dipped his head and lavished attention on our sub’s pink, puckered hole. He licked up and down the length of his crack, making the man moan and his face contort from the assault of bliss. The submissive fisted handfuls of quilt when my lover applied a sensation lubricant he plucked from our pleasure pile.

  When he slid two fingers up the man’s asshole, working him in a sensual rhythm that had him bucking his ass backward into my lover, I could take it no longer. I reached down and stroked my clitoris, amping the tingling there higher while I enjoyed my voyeurism.

  He ripped open a condom and slid one on, as per Surrender’s safe sex rule. Moments later, I groaned along with him as he plunge all eight, meaty inches into our submissive well muscled ass. The younger man sighed and arched beneath my lover, his fists gripped the quilt beneath him even tighter.

  “Spank him,” I commanded. “Let’s see that tight ass jiggle.” I handed him a fuzzy, red heart shaped paddle.

  My lover complied, giving me a wicked look filled with lust. He smoothed the paddle over the man’s ass, between his cheeks. He teased his balls and cock with its velvety surface while he fucked him.

  Finally, I had to join in. The strap-on I wore had an attachment for the wearer, too--a smaller vibrator that was flexible and egg-shaped. I slid this inside of me, holding it there while I plunged the thick, fake cock inside my lover’s ass, after we’d lubed him up with a bit of sensation lube.

  My lover sighed as I stroked his rippling, tanned back, crisscrossing my fingers back and forth over cords of muscle. I took my turn teasing him with the paddle, sliding it up and down his ass crack, over each firm cheek. Then I let it glide over his hip, around his front, so I could tease the tip and length of his cock with it, massage his balls while I fucked him slow and steady.

  The vibrator inside me hummed delightfully, and I turned up its speed as I turned up the speed on the larger attachment now up my lover’s ass. We became a symphony of moans and groans. Muscles bulged in the men’s arms as they dug their fists deeper into the plush mattress.

  We writhed, squirmed, fucked faster, harder, more carnal. I licked sweat from my lover’s back as I pumped in and out of his ass. The vibrations thrumming through his toy also ran through the belt on the strap-on, and they gave my clit a wonderful massage with each thrust of my prosthetic cock. Soon, we all melted in a collective burst of ecstasy as we all came within moments of one another.

  But before they could cum, I told them to once more spill their juices all over me, which they did. Then both my lover’s descended on me to lick me clean and pleasure my body.

  As the submissive went down on me, my dominant lover cupped my sticky face, looked into my eyes and said, “It’s time to switch.”

  ***

  One week later the suit was ready, and I was staring down a best friend who felt betrayed.

  “I still can’t believe you’re working with him.” Ethan sneered and crumpled his napkin. “And you haven’t called me in over a week,” he continued, stabbing the pristine tablecloth with his finger as he said each word. “What the hell is happening to you, Katey?”

  I put down my fork and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry for freezing you out lately, Ethan, but I’ve been crazy busy. This commission with Devereux is … well, it’s different.”

  “Different? How so?” Ethan raised an eyebrow and wrinkled his nose, looking like he’d just smelled something bad.

  I concentrated very hard on my crab salad. Anything to avoid his piercing, accusing eyes at that moment. I just wasn’t up for a confrontation with him today. I’d barely slept the night before, thanks to another visit to Surrender Sanctuary. Finally I said, “Because I’m staying with him.”

  Ethan nearly choked on his mouthful of wine. “You’re staying with him!? Katey, that’s insane--”

  Unable to stand anymore of his ranting, I put a finger over his lips. “Look, everything is fine. Please, just trust me.”

  In a lower voice, he asked, “What about us?”

  And my heart sank. Why did relationships have to get so complicated? Why did people say their heart wouldn’t get involved when it inevitably did? I couldn’t judge Ethan, however, for I was no better. I had briefly reconsidered my plan for revenge on Blaine Devereux last night, because, for just a moment, I fooled myself into believing I cared about him. But that couldn’t be possible, and I wouldn’t even entertain the thought.

  Finally I answered Ethan as best, and as honestly, as I could. Just as I had not long ago in our phone argument. “There is no us, sweetie, and we both know that. You remember what it was like when we tried to live together? We nearly killed each other.” I forced a chuckle to try and lighten the weight of our collective moods.

  He looked sad, and the sadness seemed to beat the anger out of him. I felt an intense pang of guilt and compassion.

  When he still didn’t speak, I added, “We have an arrangement. We’re fuck buddies, darling. We both agreed to that.”

  Now the scowl was back, and I knew I’d been too blunt for my own good.
/>   “Of course.” He nodded then threw his napkin down. “An arrangement. That’s all we are.”

  He got up and stalked away from the table and I followed him out of the restaurant, leaving enough money on the table to cover the bill before I left. I caught up with him at the corner of the street, grabbed his arm, and stopped.

  “Ethan, please, you are one of my best friends in the world.” I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him before he could cross the pavement. “Please, let’s not fight like this.”

  He kissed the top of my head, whispered into my hair, “Do you love him?”

  I pulled back and gave him a shocked look. “Where did a crazy question like that come from?”

  He still looked sad when he spoke, but there was a resignation in the sadness now. As if he’d accepted something he already suspected. “It’s in your eyes. You used to look at me like that, back in college. But now that look belongs to him.”

  ***

  The night had arrived, and Blaine Devereux looked very handsome in his new, custom made bondage suit. The black material looked like dragon scales, and it shimmered as he walked closer under the bedroom lights.

  “You’ve done an amazing job, Kitty,” he told me, running his hand over his sculpted pecs and flat stomach before turning a radiant smile on me. “This suit is perfect. The Sanctuary is going to love it.”

  I swallowed hard when he mentioned Surrender Sanctuary. We were due there tonight, and we were scheduled to play in one of the performance rooms. That was why it was so important the suit was completed tonight. Blaine wanted to show it off, and show it off he would.

  As we walked down a wide, white staircase that led to a rounded area with four white doors leading off of it, I thought about telling him. But this was his great unveiling of my masterpiece. Then I thought about pulling the chicken route.

  “You know, Blaine, my throat is just killing me,” I said weakly, pawing at my neck and feigning sickness. “Could we bow out tonight, unveil your suit another time maybe?”

  His eyebrows shot up and drew together. “Are you kidding?” He didn’t look too impressed. “I spent a fortune, and you spent a great deal of time, on this masterpiece.” He smiled wide and motioned up and down the faux black snakeskin-like material.

  “We could unveil it next week?” I faked a cough. “I’m feeling really dizzy.”

  He glowered at me, grabbed my wrist. “We’re going in, we’re performing, and that’s final.”

  I glowered back, and almost said, ‘You can kiss my ass,’ but then, suddenly, I didn’t feel so guilty about the revenge I had planned for tonight. I decided to walk right in there and go through with it, and bring Blaine Devereux to his knees.

  The room we entered was massive and rectangular. A wide stage with many different devices, including a rack and a spanking chair, waited before us. Massive flat screen TVs hung from the ceiling and seemed to fill the room.

  “Camera and audio everywhere,” Blaine whispered as we drew closer to the stage. “So the viewers can see and hear everything.”

  How wonderful, I thought.

  I chose a padded, vinyl rack shaped like a ‘X’ and standing up so it would face the rows of guests. Big silver buttons ran along its outline, and there were steely cuffs at the wrists and ankles, plus a Velcro belt in the middle to help reduce strain on the limbs once buckled in.

  I climbed up and let Blaine strap me on to the rack while the crowd began to drift in. Men in immaculate tuxedos or bondage gear took their seats, along with women in stunning gowns of various lengths and fabrics or tight bondage suits that accentuated curvy forms.

  It was warm in the room, and sweat already beaded my brow. I asked Blaine about this, and he said the air conditioning system was being worked on, but the room would maintain a cool enough temperature for us to play in.

  That wasn’t my concern, however. My concern was for the suit he wore. My plan of revenge. The suit was designed to break apart when the wearer’s skin temperature increased and they began to sweat. The more their skin heated up, and the more they sweated, the quicker the suit would break apart.

  I glanced at the sweat already beading Blaine’s forehead, and we’d barely begun. Gulping down guilt, I watched him go to the table and select a cat o’ nine tails. He returned, smiling and gleaming as he held the instrument of pleasurable torment up before me.

  “Blaine,” I whispered, “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “Later, sweetheart,” he said before he jammed his tongue down my throat.

  I was clad in a bondage getup myself, and all it entailed were thin strips of latex that barely covered my breasts and sex as the strips crisscrossed over my skin. He teased my exposed flesh with the tethers on the whip, tickled them over my smooth belly, then he ripped the strips away from my breasts and attached silver nipple clamps to each nipple.

  I moaned and squirmed from the stimulation, from the stinging zipping through my nipples.

  He once more teased these taut tips with the whip, then he tickled the lengths over my throbbing pussy.

  As he dipped to his knees to tease my swelling clit with his tongue and teeth, the suit began to rip. I noticed the fabric molting away from his sweat dampened back, but he didn’t notice at first. Instead his tongue swirled beneath the hood of my clit, making me forget I should warn him about his clothes falling off.

  When the arms began to slough off, both Blaine and the audience became aware. “What the hell?” He’d been walking back to the table laid out with sex toys, and that’s when the sleeves fell from his impressive biceps to pool on the stage floor.

  “I’m shedding like a fucking snake!” he yelled, and turned his angry gaze on me.

  The crowd reacted, and a murmur of surprise and disapproval rose up from their masses.

  “Yes.” I gave a sheepish, small smile. “Yes, you are.”

  “What have you done to me?” He stalked back to where I was bound to the rack, and as he did more sections of his suit peeled away. By the time he returned to the rack, he stood naked in front of a room packed with people and cameras.

  The people gasped, and so did I, at his reaction. His nakedness was near perfect, so far as I could see. Definitely nothing to be ashamed of, so why was he so afraid to lose his clothes in front of anyone?

  After he stopped screaming the blood curdling scream he gave once totally bare, I saw the reason when he turned his back to me. Scars, obviously made by a careless blade, crisscrossed his shoulders and farther down, ending just above his waist. They were old, white and puckered, but when he faced me once more I saw the pain they caused him was just as fresh as the day they’d been made.

  He stalked up to me, took my chin roughly in his hands, and stared at me with eyes made shiny by unshed tears. “How could you do this to me? I thought we trusted each other.”

  Then he tore at one of the stage curtains, nearly bringing down all the drapery lining the platform in his rage. Soon he ripped free one of the velvety, crimson drapes and wrapped the length around himself before he thundered out of the room, leaving me bound and the crowd speechless.

  ***

  Two weeks went by, and the wait was killing me. The wait for his revenge, that is. No, of course I didn’t love him. Ethan was silly for saying such a thing. But I did feel like a supersized shit for embarrassing him the way I had.

  Those scars went deep, and whatever reason he had for constantly covering them, it had to be a good one. Exposing something like that in front of his entire rich, elite crowd was sure to get me some retribution from Mr. Devereux.

  I’d scanned the papers, feared watching the news, answering my phone. I wondered if the police would show up at one point, and then decided I was being entirely too paranoid.

  “He’s not going to get revenge on you,” Lynette said when I confessed my fear to her one afternoon at the office.

  “How can you be so sure?” I asked, and when I looked at her she dropped her gaze to the papers before her.


  She’s a great businesswoman, Lynette, but a terrible liar. I walked over to her desk and stood as close to it as I could, leaning over it until our forehead almost touched. This forced her to meet my eyes.

  “What has he told you?”

  She tried a moment longer to feign innocence, then she gave an exasperated sigh and put her hands on her hips. “I’ve talked to him. He’s not planning revenge. He paid his bill and he walked away. That’s all, Katey.”

  But something wasn’t right. Not to me, it wasn’t. No way would a rich man like Blaine Devereux let such a public humiliation go. He’d want revenge. He had to, and I was through waiting, through agonizing over it. So I marched right over to his office to find out what his game was.

  ***

  “How did you get in here?” Blaine shouted, his eyes going wide with surprise when I walked in his office.

  “I have my ways,” I said simply. “Money talks.”

  This elicited a small smile from him. But it soon became a glower in my presence. “What do you want?”

  “To apologize,” I said, stepping nearer to his desk. “It was meant to be a prank, a harmless bit of revenge--”

  “Revenge is never harmless,” he said, bracing his hands on the desk and leaning closer. His nostrils flared in anger.

  I looked down at my purse, fiddled with the thin white strap. “No, it isn’t.” I met his eyes once more, trying to find a trace of hope amidst the anger shining there. “I’m truly sorry. I know I caused you pain. If I could undo it, I would.”

  “I wouldn’t,” he said, remaining blank-faced.”

  “You wouldn’t?” I blinked at him in surprise.

  Another small smile formed on his sensuous lips. “Not a moment. You taught me something. That I can’t hide anymore. That I like having someone like you--someone who challenges me the way you do--in my life.”

  I was rendered speechless briefly, then I blurted, “You taught me something, too. Not to judge people based on rumors and appearances.”