Darkest Fantasies

by Raines, Kimberley

  He lay there and contemplated his impressive cock, proudly rampant through the bubbles, and hoped that Tanya was as submissive as she was making out. It would be nice to have it sucked by a connoisseur. However, he was a bit confused by Tanya. He had the strangest feeling that in spite of her submissive role, she was going to pull his strings from beginning to end; a contradiction, but one he could live with if she was everything she was presently promising to be.

  Subconsciously he was listening to the shower in the next room, and imagining her slick with soap and water, her dark hair plastered down her back, her fingers caressing her dark skin as she cleaned herself everywhere.

  He wondered why she hadn't wanted him to do the cleaning bit. Yes, he would have liked that.

  Eventually the shower stopped, and he craned his neck to get a first exciting glimpse of her flesh as she passed the door, but was disappointed to see a flash of ankle-length dressing gown which deflated his dew-speckled images. There was something so homely about a dressing gown that his cock drooped in disappointment. Kevin's lust dissipated instantly, and he sank further into the water, simply tired. What the hell was he here for? He might as well have gone home and let Esther massage his shoulders, give her a quick bonk in the dark and allow himself to succumb to the call of heavy sleep. The more he thought about it, the more the warm water lulled him into apathy. Hell, he couldn't be bothered to play games. Was there any way he could just cry off; climb out - when he'd summoned up the energy - and go home? He sighed, knowing it just wasn't an option; the poor girl would be really disappointed in him if he didn't make an effort. Besides, what could that do to his reputation? It just didn't bear thinking about.

  In the bedroom he heard her moving around, then scented the pungent smell of a new jostick and heard the low chant of something discordant and foreign playing subtly in the background.

  He was mentally steeling himself for the mammoth effort when there was movement behind him. His eyes opened, then widened in shock. He straightened slightly, shooting a tidal wave of bubbles onto the green carpet. For Tanya was neither in a dressing gown, nor naked and blatantly ready for sex. Instead, she was clothed head to toe in red silk heavily embroidered with exotic flowers and birds of paradise. Her long nails were painted, her wrists and ankles heavy with ornament, and her face was covered with a veil. Nothing of her body was visible, save an inch of belly complete with a navel ornament. Her hands and feet were heavy with gold jewellery, and her vivid green eyes rimmed with kohl.

  As his amazed glance travelled up and down her body, she glided in, knelt in a fluid movement, and pressed her hands together in supplication before sinking back onto her heels to wait. Kevin thought himself fairly experienced in the art of eroticism, but nothing had prepared him for the exquisite anticipation of having the flesh withheld. He sat up slowly, never taking his eyes from her, and as his imagination pictured her oiled skin beneath the silk, the smooth curves of her full breast, tiredness fled. His eyes dwelled on the small swell of her middle, the indent of her belly-button, and the crease between her legs which was obscured by swathes of fine fabric.

  At that moment he felt as superior as a male could ever feel. He was of the dominant species. He was lord and master to this woman, this servant, this whore, and he would use her as he saw fit. In that instant their roles were as clearly defined as if written in stone. No words were necessary.

  He stared for a long time, savouring this new sensation. It was good. It had nothing to do with holding down a wriggling female form, demanding, taking what he wanted. It had far more to do with the evolution of species, that of natural female submission to his obvious male superiority.

  He became suffused with a gloriously warm feeling of benevolence. Despite his earlier misgivings, he would allow this woman to feel the strength of his body, to experience the exquisite joys of his lovemaking.

  He began to move, and as he did so she anticipated his needs, and rose gracefully to her feet, holding a towel between her hands. He couldn't quite work out where it had come from, but it didn't matter. Her head was still bowed submissively, waiting.

  He stepped from the bath like Adonis, like Titus, and held his arms out in the diminishing sound of sloshing water. Tanya began to dry him as he waited. She lovingly dwelled on every part of his body, rubbing with small circular movements, attaining an almost clinical desire to dry every single inch of his body. His sexual organs were accorded the same precise attention, no more, no less, which created an exquisite desire to grab her hand, to make her stop what she was doing and feel how wonderfully erect he was, feel the heat of his manhood as it rose before him. The way she ignored this part of him, gave it less than the expected attention was frustrating, but strangely exciting, as if she was saving the best till last.

  When he was dry to her satisfaction, she walked backward through the door, her clasped hands and bowed head indicating how much it would please her if he followed. Not a word was spoken.

  He realised that the distant music comprised female voices, and guessed accurately that they were revelling in praise of the male, and all falsely nurtured visions of equality of the sexes disappeared up his backside. Men were superior, women were there to do their bidding, and it was quite all right to punish them if they failed in their duties.

  She led him not to the bedroom sleek with black satin, but to the one brightly decorated in garish colours, and towards a low trestle table, suitably styled for the male body, upon which he was encouraged with every grace imaginable, to stretch himself. Deftly she positioned him on his stomach, so that his face rested comfortably in a hole provided for that purpose. His legs were slightly parted allowing his penis to hang gently through another hole, his hands brought to rest palm-up beside him. Then she began to massage him. Within moments his body was in a state of relaxation he had never before experienced.

  Tanya was evidently an expert at the art of sexual massage, and again he savoured her brand of temptation, as she only nearly touched where he desperately wanted her to touch. Warm oils were poured onto his body and gently rubbed all over; his back, his legs, into the crack of his bottom without the least hesitation or lingering sexual intimations. That was just another part of his body.

  Then she began to massage. Kevin was lulled into a state bordering sleep by the wine, the soft motions of her hands, and the exotic surroundings. There was a point at which he couldn't have sworn he had not gone to sleep, but when his libido began to seriously awaken it was not because Tanya was stroking his penis, it was because she was not, and yet his whole body was aflame with desire. Alert once more, he began to move in soft co-ordination with her hands, and the pressure of her massage accommodated the change. Her hands slid to his buttocks and began kneading the flesh with circular movements. He began to will her fingers to move closer to his balls. He lifted himself slightly in the hope that her hands would slide there, but she simply moved with him, maintaining the pressure, the exquisite torture of withholding her touch.

  There were times when Kevin was busting with need, and times when the pressure deflated, but never did the erotic pressure of that massage disperse. Subtly and with infinitesimal slowness her hands were working towards the core of his body, and Kevin's awareness followed her hands. There were times when he wanted to turn over and give her one, but deep inside he was waiting for the finale, desperate to know what it might be.

  Then she began to massage the muscle that rimmed his anus. The action itself was almost enough to bring him to complete rampant erection - almost, but not quite. The very fact that he could have turned over and thrust himself into the bird of paradise massaging him was the whole reason he did not do so. Her hands promised delights he had never experienced, and he just didn't want it to stop.

  Now her caressing finger was sliding just a fraction inside him. He groaned with frustration and delight, the two sensations intermingled inextricably, and it seemed that she dwelled at that point until he could have screamed.

  Then her finger bega
n to penetrate a little more at each circular movement, and he felt his penis had never been so fit to burst. It hung between his legs, throbbing and abandoned, while she played with his anus. He parted his legs slightly to accommodate, and at once her finger slipped right in. He jerked, gasped, and his hands clenched.

  He was staring at the carpet, knowing he only had to lift his head to see her, but found he didn't want to. He knew what she was: a concubine from a harem, there but for no other purpose than to please him. It no longer mattered what she looked like; the important factor was whether she was doing nice things to him - and at that moment that was not in doubt.

  Eventually he reached the stage where frustration was paramount, and again she seemed to anticipate this. All at once the teasing movement stopped. Her finger entered his body purposefully, and began to rub inside. Kevin felt every muscle in his body quiver into an exquisite tightness of expectation. He shivered and gasped like a man in the throes of a raging temperature. He felt seepage from his penis, and wished she would grasp it with her other hand. He almost lifted his hips so he could slip his own hands under his body, but almost in anticipation of his thoughts, her massaging increased in speed, leaving him floundering, legs widening in anticipation. Gradually the buzz built inside him and to his own surprise he knew he was going to ejaculate despite the fact that his penis had not been touched once. He stiffened, coalesced into one massive orgasm centred around whatever she was massaging in his anus, and spurted onto the carpet beneath his glazed eyes.

  Then he collapsed, replete, and discovered that she was once again softly rubbing his body, not massaging, just gently revering his male wonderfulness. With that thought, he finally dozed off.

  When he awoke a few minutes later he found Tanya kneeling before him, eyes attentive. She smiled softly.

  'Is my master hungry now?' she asked sweetly.

  To his surprise he was, and ambitions of further sex drifted amiably away. Boy, she had been good. But enough was enough. He rolled over, sat upon the couch, his feet dangling, and scratched happily at his crotch.

  'Do you like Indian food?' she asked. 'My treat. But first, stand up and turn around and cross your wrists.'

  Somewhat amused, Kevin did as he was told. He had no objection to his wrists being tied, but if she thought he was going to get it up again in a while, she'd had it.

  Once his wrists were tied she picked up a small length of red silk cord. 'Spread wide if you would, master.'

  'What are you going to do?'

  'In India this has a special name which, literally translated, means waiting in pleasure.'

  'What does it do?'

  'Would you like to find out?'

  He shrugged, and would have been just as happy to have a description, but what the hell. 'Then do we go get some food?' he asked.

  'As my master wishes.'

  She knelt before him and took his empty balls in her hand, and wrapped a complicated knot around them which lifted and separated, and left two lengths of looped cord hanging. Utterly deflated by his most recent and wonderful orgasm, Kevin smiled slightly. Okay, it felt quite nice, but response was noticeably lacking.

  'Now,' she said, 'if my master will come to the kitchen?'

  He shrugged and followed. For some ancient Indian technique, the confinement was singularly uninteresting. In the kitchen she requested him to sit on a hard seat, his bound hands behind the tall back, his testicles hanging through a hole in the seat. She knelt beside him. 'My master's ankles?'

  Now he realised what the dangling loops were for he almost balked, but she waited dutifully until he reached his ankles slowly towards her under the chair, and slipped his ankles into the loops provided before rising gracefully to her feet and over towards the kitchen worktop.

  Kevin held his legs taut for a moment, then realised he was not going to be able to hold that tension for long, and relaxed slightly, allowing the cord to take the weight of his lower limbs. At once his testicles stretched down well below the seat. At first the sensation was uncomfortable rather than painful, but all too soon that changed.

  He gritted his teeth and wondered how long he should put up with this torment before insisting she untied him.

  He winced, wriggled, and lifted his legs, and the pressure released, but within moments his legs drooped again and the pressure under his crotch rose, pulling his testicles again. His bound hands clenched slightly as if they would assist in taking away the pressure, but he could reach nothing.

  'Jesus!' he gasped after a moment. 'How long would a man in India be expected to sit like this?'

  'As long as it takes, master,' she said ambiguously.

  Sweat built up on his face as he wriggled around a bit more, lifting one buttock, then the other as he tried to find a comfortable spot. But the more he wriggled the more the strange pressure built up, the pain becoming almost excruciating. And yet, he had to concede that his penis had inflated just a tad.

  Tanya was humming to herself, cutting small red peppers on a chopping board. He watched her, almost surprised that she was actually getting on and cooking a meal, having supposed that the sex bit over, they would probably just nip out for a take-away.

  'Tanya?' he grunted.

  'Yes, master?' The kohl-rimmed eyes assessed him over the veil.

  'I think I'd like you to untie me.'

  'If my master wishes.'

  She glided forward, knelt between his legs, and bent her head into his lap. Unhesitatingly she lifted his penis to her mouth with her tongue and began to caress it, her hands reaching under the chair to slide up and down the back of his stretched balls. Kevin gasped at the unexpected action and froze, his hips arched towards her, another shot of blood pumping into his penis. As she licked an unnatural glow began to suffuse his nether regions. His hands clenched. Christ, she'd been chewing the chillies!

  As his erection began to blossom, so the cord was no longer a pain, but an aphrodisiac. Now a finger was rubbing erotically against his anus, and to his surprise he again became fully erect, hard as a nail.

  She looked up, her sloe eyes heavy-lidded. 'Does my master still wish to be untied?'

  'Oh, shit no!' he gasped.

  But instead of carrying on with her most wonderful fellatio, she stood up and went back to her curry. In went the meat and the colourful ingredients. Kevin was moving slightly, lifting one leg at a time to release the tension, each movement accompanied by a gasp as his prick and balls were pulled this way and that. After a few moments he closed his eyes and concentrated on surviving the excruciating experience. Was he supposed to stay like this until she had cooked the dinner? Was he expected to eat like this? He knew he couldn't. A groan escaped his lips.

  With a flurry of silk she was there again, her hands caressing his thighs, her lips enclosing his spearing tool. As she began to work on him he realised she was in total control. Although he moved fractionally to further enjoy her clever tongue, there was a point beyond which he could not move, and each time he reached it she would wait until he froze against his bonds before continuing her torturously delicate stimulation.

  The pain of his constriction was all the more exquisite because he knew all he had to do was utter a single word and she would release him. But that was not the release he wanted. He felt the delicate rasp of her teeth against his throbbing helmet and thought he was about to explode. But still she stimulated him, her hands pressed against his hips to give herself the leverage she needed as she leaned down and sucked him in and out of her throat in long, languorous drafts. He held on as long as he could, his face going redder and redder as he held his breath with the effort, knowing the minute he relaxed he was going to lose it.

  Then he allowed the orgasm to build. It started in his constricted testicles, cascaded outward in waves before flooding back to explode violently into Tanya's clutching throat. He wallowed in delicious ecstasy as he felt her muscles spasm as she swallowed.

  As pleasure faded he realised he was now in extreme discomfort, but before he
could make a single complaint, Tanya slipped his ankles free.

  He leaned back in the chair, eyes closed, savouring the aftermath, and when he looked again Tanya was calmly putting the curry on the stove to simmer.

  'What did you call that?' he asked at last, shuffling on the seat to relieve the pressure on his balls.

  She gave a cheeky grin, and said, 'My master can call it what he wishes.'

  'Are you going to release me now?'

  'If my master wishes it.'

  'But?'

  'I would like to feed my master and please him again.'

  'Not possible,' he responded sadly.

  She said nothing, but her eyes sparkled with amusement, and he realised that he had now come twice, and still had not seen the merest hint of a pussy.

  Chapter 13

  Esther's upbringing had drummed into her the premise that to become sexually adventurous was some kind of convoluted first step down the long road to promiscuity. Instead, it was her valued judgement - mostly derived from personal experience - that lack of sexual awareness was more likely to lead to dissatisfaction and divorce. And yet even that discovery was not enough in itself to dissolve years of dogma. No, it was not simply the decision to do so, but the act of throwing aside her inhibitions that had been the huge hurdle, but slowly and surely that objective had been achieved. Now, every step forward was her own choice, as were the new boundaries to this freedom; quite simply, she could go as far as her own desires took her, and with whomever she wanted. However, despite the live subjects Madam used as teaching aids, and the enjoyable hours she spent tormenting them, her sole aim was to bring Kevin back into the fold and keep him there.

  She made a cup of tea and took it in to Madam Tisset.

  Madam Tisset leaned back on the comfortable sofa as she was wont, and sighed sorrowfully. 'Such a shame you don't want to come into the business - you're such a natural. Are you really sure you won't reconsider my offer?'