EROTICA BOX SET - A Night To Remember (BDSM, Bondage, Domination)

by Sylvia Parker

  Her body shook a final time as the last drops of liquid dribbled onto the man's lap. Her shoulders collapsed momentarily before she recovered her composure yet again. She pulled her leg from the top of the chair and stood up straight, covering her exposed sex with the Velcro strap.

  With a withering glance, she stared down at her slave. Leslie's heart was in her throat as she seemed to read the woman's thoughts.

  Well? Is she going to let him cum or not? She thought.

  Her sense of pity for the man nearly overwhelmed her. After all, the dom had put the man through such abuse – she would have to make it all worthwhile, wouldn't she?

  “What do you think?” the horned woman asked loudly, turning around to face the crowd. “Does my slave deserve release?”

  With a unanimous roar, the crowd cheered loudly. Leslie and Jessica found themselves shouting as well, taking the opportunity to feel a part of the performance.

  The woman in the latex bodysuit turned back to her slave, still obediently sitting still in the metal folding chair. She walked towards him deliberately, pausing to crouch at his feet. Her massive horns spread widely to either side of his body as the latex hugged her lower body tightly, displaying a perfectly round ass and shapely legs to those in the crowd watching from behind.

  “Its your lucky day,” she said, her face inches from the man's glistening cock.

  Without another word, she closed her lips around the man's stiff member. Her huge horns bobbed up and down as she slurped messily against her slave's penis. One of her hands reached down between her legs, undoing the Velcro strap once again. Leslie fixed her gaze on the woman's exposed slit as her gloved fingers slapped loudly against her bare crotch.

  The woman's slippery hand rubbed the small bell at the top of her pussy, swiping back and forth against her clit as her head bobbed up and down on the man's penis. His hands balled into fists at his sides as the slave fought the urge to grip the woman's horns and force his cock into the back of the woman's throat.

  As the two approached climax simultaneously, the woman's hand began to blur against her vagina. A weak stream of liquid began to dribble out from her onto the floor below as the man's head relaxed against the back of the chair. The zippered mouth slit opened slightly as he groaned, his back arching.

  The demonic-looking woman pulled her mouth from the slave's cock, her free hand gripping it tightly. She stroked him the final few seconds before he began to cum, a white burst of hot goo shooting straight up into the air. It caught the woman on one of her horns, dangling in a stretchy mess. She opened her mouth above his cock as the second burst exploded in her mouth. She moaned, swallowing it hungrily as she sprayed her own impressive ejaculate from her open slit.

  The master and slave writhed as they came together, their moans blending in a mix of powerful sensations. They alternated between arching and stiffening their posture as they sprayed their bodily fluids into the room. The smell of sex permeated the immediate area as the two performers finished their act, sending up a cheer from the crowd around them.

  Leslie found herself clapping, elbowing Jessica to do the same. The sound of twenty people giving a round of applause dominated the room momentarily, some people whistling loudly over the music.

  Jessica took another sip of her drink, reminding Leslie to do the same. Truth be told, she was so engrossed in the scene that she had forgotten she was holding it altogether.

  “That was fucked up,” said Jessica, barely audible over the cheers of the crowd.

  “I know!” said Leslie, nodding and grinning like a fool.

  The latex clad woman rose against the clamor of applause, ignoring it completely. She retrieved the chain, still hanging from the leather collar around the slave's neck, and proceeded to lead him off through the crowd into the distance. The crowd dispersed slowly, the only remnants of their performance the metal folding chair and a small puddle on the ground.

  Leslie exhaled a deep breath, unaware that she had been holding it in. She turned to Jessica, the two girls giddy with excitement. Together, they clinked glasses, silently toasting the exciting night that was already well under way.

  Handcuffed To The Bed

  (Bondage, Massage, BDSM)

  By Sylvia Parker

  All Rights Reserved, 2014

  As the two girls sipped their fruity drinks, Leslie felt a sneaking suspicion that someone was watching her. The hair stood up on the back of her neck as she felt eyes on her. She glanced around, searching for whoever it was that was setting off alarm bells in her head. Blaring music pumped in the background as the jumble of voices and disjointed conversations filled her ears, interfering with her concentration.

  “What are you looking for?” Jessica asked her, lightly touching her friend on the shoulder. “Did you see someone you know or something?”

  After a moment, Leslie responded, “No, I suppose not.” She shrugged absently.

  “Come on, let me show you the back room,” Jessica said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

  Clasping her friend by the hand, the tall Asian girl led her back into the writhing mass of black-clad party-goers. Leslie held her breath as she passed the sweaty throngs of people, her eyes still scanning the crowds for whoever was giving her the feeling of surveillance. The passed a man wearing crossed leather suspenders with metal studs, reminding her of one of the Village People.

  She shook her head, a smile coming across her face despite herself. What a bunch of weirdos this place attracts, she thought.

  “Hey Jess,” she called out. Her friend turned around, her eyebrows raised in askance.

  “Why did you tell that lady back at the bathroom that you've never been here before?” She shouted over the din of the noisy room.

  Leslie thought she saw a flash of fear in her friend's eyes at the question. “What?” she shouted, apparently unable to hear.

  “I said, 'Why did you tell that lady -'” Leslie paused mid-sentence as her eyes met those of familiar face.

  Donald, aka “The Jailor”, stood not fifteen feet away next to a massive black pillar situated in the middle of the room. He was flanked by two burly men on either side, wearing the same black leather hood as the performer on stage known as a Guardsman. To Leslie, they looked like bodyguards. Her eyebrows arched as she saw Donald point directly at her, leaning his head towards one of the Guardsmen. He whispered something into the man's leather hood. The man nodded and started towards the two girls.

  “Jess...” Leslie began, her voice catching in her throat. She squeezed her friend's hand as her eyes went wide. Paralyzed with fear, she had no idea why Donald was sending the massive man over to her direction.

  “Look, Leslie,” Jessica began, completely oblivious to the man walking in their direction. “I came here about a month ago with another girlfriend. Things got a little crazy, that's all. I swear, nothing to be worried about. Ow! Leslie, what the fuck?”

  “Jess!” Leslie said, louder this time as she squeezed her friend's hand as hard as she could. “She nodded in the direction of the burly hooded man walking over to them. Jessica turned her head just in time to see the massive man appear, towering over the two comparatively diminutive girls.

  “Hello Jessica,” the man said ominously. “Welcome back.”

  Leslie cast an incredulous look at her friend. Nothing to be worried about? She thought. Then why is Donald sending his goons over to talk to us?

  “Hi,” said Jessica, uncharacteristically unsure of herself. “Do I know you?”

  “The Jailor would like to invite you two ladies to the VIP room,” the man said, his voice slightly muffled against the loose hood on his head.

  He reached around to the back pocket of his black leather pants, producing two plastic rectangles attached to a thin leather cord. They read “VIP” in big red leathers. The girls exchanged a curious glance.

  “He would like to invite you personally to have a drink with him,” the man said, his deep voice sending shivers down Leslie's spine. “Come
with me, please.”

  Jessica glanced at her friend again, shrugging her shoulders good-naturedly. Leslie shot back a worried glance, trying to convey her misgivings without using actual words.

  “Come on, Les,” she said reassuringly. “It'll be fun. Something different.”

  Before she could open her mouth to protest, her friend was pulling her towards Donald and his bodyguards. Leslie swallowed hard as her heart pumped wildly in her chest. She had no idea why this man wanted to speak to them, but given the nature of the club, she knew it couldn't be good.

  “Hello Jessica,” said Donald, his lips curving upwards in a wry smile. “So nice to see you again.”

  He held out his hand, palm facing upwards. Jessica placed her fingertips lightly in his hands, blushing slightly as he raised them to his lips. His eyes flicked to Leslie almost imperceptibly as he rose from the light kiss. Flanked on both sides by muscular shirtless men, his black business suit seemed somewhat out of place and appropriate, both at the same time.

  “Please introduce me to your friend,” he said coolly, his eyes shifting back to the tall Asian girl.

  “Oh,” said Jessica absentmindedly. “This is my friend Leslie,” she said, extending a hand towards her friend. “We go to Columbia together.”

  Donald raised his eyebrows in polite curiosity He held his hand out towards Leslie in the same way he had done for Jessica. Somewhat unsure of herself, she tentatively placed her hand lightly in his. Her heart pounded as he brought it to his lips, the soft flesh of his mouth grazing the back of her hand like the touch of an angel. Leslie's mouth hung open as she felt the blood rush to her face. The man released her hand, his eyes staring into Leslie's for just a second too long.

  “As Pavel here mentioned,” said the Jailor, indicating the man to his right, “I'd like to offer you access to the VIP room. If you're not otherwise occupied, please come have a drink with me.”

  Leslie was still reeling from the intensity of the kiss, delaying her response to the invitation. Jessica rescued her, stepping forward as she said, “Of course! Lead the way, we'll be right behind you.”

  Donald smiled before walking off, his Guardsmen in tow. Jessica elbowed her friend in the ribs, giving Leslie a start. She jumped, more from the shock than any apparent pain.

  “Get it together, Les!” said Jessica giddily. She hopped onto the tips of her toes, shaking Leslie's shoulders in excitement.

  They followed Donald and his men across the large open room. The Guardsmen cleared a path for their boss as they walked. Either by intimidation or force, it was as if the waters parted for this man when he moved about in his club. Leslie had no idea why he wanted them to come have a drink with him. Perhaps it was just for an innocent drink, but she couldn't help thinking that he had more sinister motives in mind.

  They reached a massive steel door at the end of the room. The girls were a few paces behind the men, but Leslie heard a loud click of metal on metal as the door swung open with a loud creak. His bodyguards waited at the entrance, two on either side, as Donald stepped to the side to wait for the girls. He smiled as they approached, his perfect white teeth making him look all the more like a stock broker.

  “Ladies,” he said, dipping his body forward in a slight bow. “After you.”

  Jessica giggled flirtatiously as she walked through, pulling Leslie along awkwardly in tow. For her part, Leslie had never felt more like a country bumpkin from the Midwest than she did then. She did her best to imitate Jessica's sexy walk as she stepped through the door into a dark corridor. A light at the end of the hall was the only thing visible against the pitch black darkness.

  “Go all the way down to the end,” Donald's voice sounded from behind them.

  “Come on,” whispered Jessica to her friend.

  They linked their arms together for support as they made their way down the length of the tunnel. The light grew in size until Leslie realized it was the outline of a door. The light expanded into total brightness as they opened the door, a well-lit room waiting for them on the other side.

  Another Guardsman waited for them in a small room. He peered over their shoulder for a moment, as if looking for something. Satisfied, he opened another door behind him, this one leading into a dimly lit room, red and blue bulbs casting an ethereal glow across the twenty or so people inside.

  A stark contrast from the rest of the club, the VIP room was populated with people who more or less resembled Leslie and her friend. Well-dressed individuals mingled with leather and vinyl-wearing freaks. But in here, there was no hanky panky. High-priced bottles of alcohol sat in ice buckets on a wood-carved coffee table as muted conversations took place across the room. A small bar stood at the side of the room as a bartender, dressed in a black silk shirt and black dress pants, poured drinks for some well-dressed patrons standing nearby.

  All eyes turned to Leslie and her friend as they entered the room, the hum of conversation dimming with the intrusion. They stood there awkwardly for a few moments until Donald approached them from behind, laying a hand lightly on the small of their backs.

  “Please,” he said, motioning to some red velvet couches nearby. “Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Oh no, I'm fine,” Leslie said, glancing at the remaining red liquid in her martini glass.

  Jess cast a disapproving look at her, and she rolled her eyes. Leslie imagined that she was beaming a thought towards her, something like: Come on Les, we came here to have fun!

  Donald shrugged politely as he backed away. “I'll be over in a minute. Make yourselves at home.”

  Jess smacked her friend good-naturedly with the back of her hand. She darkened her disapproving look, waiting expectantly for Leslie to change her answer. The blonde rolled her green eyes around, surrendering to her friend's overbearing demands.

  “Fine,” she said, defeated. “Go get me another one. I'm gonna sit down. These shoes are killing me.”

  “We came here to have fun tonight, remember?” Jessica said, her words almost exactly matching what Leslie had anticipated.

  “Yeah yeah, I know,” replied Leslie, suddenly feeling tired. “I'll be over here.”

  Without waiting for Jessica's reply, she sat down heavily on the velvet couch. With a satisfied grunt, she took off her heels and set them on the ground in front of her. Remembering the short cocktail dress she was wearing, she crossed her legs carefully, leaning most of her weight on the red velvet armrest. Despite the house music playing in the background, she felt as if she could easily fall asleep on the comfortable sofa.

  “Hey baby,” said a man's voice from above her. “Wanna play with my balls?”

  Leslie opened one eye as she tried to identify the figure. She rolled her eyes when she saw Jess standing above her. She had a big grin on her face as she carefully sat down on the couch next to Leslie.

  “Here, take one of these,” she said, handing a tall glass filled with pale green liquid.

  “What is it?” asked Leslie, eyeing the substance suspiciously.

  “Mostly crack mixed with laundry detergent,” said Jess sarcastically. Leslie wondered where she got the energy to be so funny all the time.

  “Its vodka mixed with Red Bull,” she said, all trace of humor gone from her voice. “It'll give you a little boost.”

  Leslie took the glass reluctantly. She sighed, collapsing against the soft back cushion of the couch. With the drink on her lap, she idly stirred the mixture with the protruding red straw. Thoughts about her latest assignment filled her mind.

  “Donald is so cute,” said Jess, snapping her back to reality. “Don't you think?”

  Leslie stared off into space, her response delayed by pure fatigue. “Listen Jess, I really appreciate you taking me out tonight, but I'm totally wiped. I don't know how much longer I can stay here.”

  Without missing a beat, her friend simply nodded. “That's okay honey, don't worry about it. Let's just stick finish the drink and we can go, okay?”

  Too tir
ed to argue, Leslie nodded. In one massive gulp, she sucked half of her drink down through her straw. Jess laughed as she watched her friend quickly imbibe large quantities of alcohol and caffeine. She did her best to stop the smirk from coming over her face, knowing that the amount of stimulants in that drink would be enough to give her friend a second wind for the evening.

  Unaware of the effect the drink would have on her, Leslie nevertheless found herself wanting to move her body in tune to the rhythmic pumping of the house music in the background. She turned to Jessica, who sat contentedly with her legs crossed, looking like she owned the place. Leslie glanced around the room, suddenly aware that men were casting wanton glances at her friend. She sighed into her drink, sucking down another huge gulp through the straw.

  Movement caught the corner of her eye as she noticed Jessica waving to someone with her fingers. Bright white teeth flashed through red lipstick as Leslie followed her line of sight. Donald waved to her as well, and she returned the greeting in earnest.

  Surprised by her own sudden burst of energy, she leaned over to Jessica and whispered, “I think he likes you.”

  Jessica grinned again, her pearly white teeth a sharp contrast against her red lips. She straightened her posture, beckoning Donald to come closer with rapid movement of her wrist. Leslie stared at him as he walked over, but before he had a chance to say anything, Jessica pulled him down and whispered something in his ear.

  Leslie watched him as he listened. Their eyes met for a lingering second as a slight smile spread across his face. Leslie shifted her weight against the couch as she adjusted her low cut dress, pulling the fabric down to expose more of her heaving bosom.

  Donald nodded, casting a knowing look at Jessica before the two of them turned their gaze to Leslie. Her eyes shifted between the two of them, feeling uncomfortable under their penetrating gaze. Before she had a chance to ask what was going on, a slim waiter dressed in all black brought a bottle of Grey Goose vodka in an ornate silver ice bucket. He placed it on the table in front of him along with several high ball glasses and some shot glasses.