Claim Me (Your Pet For The Night)
Page 2
She felt like an instrument, expertly played by her lover, as if he had spent years practicing. And he had. And she trembled with delight.
As the third orgasm approached her, drove headlong toward her, an overpowering need to have him inside her, his manhood, his essence, took hold of her. The sopping core that was her canal ached for him, longed for him, oozing desire between her thighs, excreting pleasure with each of his powerful thrusts with his fingers. He seemed to sense that she wanted him in entirety, and withdrew his fingers, sucking on them and groaning, tasting the tangy nectar, the physical expression of her pleasure and desire.
Then he climbed up her body, and again the bedposts rattled as she saw his cock come into view, wriggling her legs. “No,” she whispered, but she really meant yes. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her feverishly, and she tasted herself on him and moaned into his mouth. His manhood twitched and flexed as his pubic muscle clenched wildly, waiting to unload something heavy, something large.
He placed his wide dome at her entrance and waited there. She stared into her lover’s eyes, a thousand words sent through a single look, and she gasped as she felt him enter her, gliding inside her effortlessly, her natural lubrication copious. He slowly withdrew himself his entire length, holding himself above her. His shoulder muscles were tensed, and the veins sprang out on his arms, a look of erotic power. His chest muscles tightened and she saw the undulation in his abdominals as he plunged himself back inside her, eliciting a wild shriek.
“Untie me,” she gasped, nearly begging.
“No,” he said, his voice deep and imbued with a carnal hunger that made her yelp with anticipation.
He thrust in and out of her, holding a rhythm, a pace. Their combined moans grew louder and softer to each plunge of his manhood into her womanly depths. The bedposts rattled as she pulled and stretched her legs wildly, the feeling of his girth and length impaling her near overwhelming. The third orgasm was right at her doorstep, and she held it off, suppressed it, wanting to climax with her lover, to feel his shaft twitching and flexing within her while her sex clutched at him in random spasms.
She ringed his neck with her arms, holding onto him tightly, lifting herself off the bed as he continued to plunge himself deep into her, draw himself out his entire length. She felt sweat beading on his back, felt the muscles ripple beneath his skin as his body moved, bucked, jammed into her with abandon. She felt the thick bulge of his veins surging past her lips that quivered at the textured sensation.
She moaned into his ear loudly, wanting to bring him to bear quicker, nearly unable to hold off her own climax any longer. As he submerged himself in her sodden depths with powerful thrust and thrust, the sound of their sex, coated in their combined liquid desire, flooded the air of the room.
Jolene could no longer hold back and she sped past the point of no return. She ventured a hand south, finding the hardened stub of her clit peeking out from its velvety sheath, and rubbed it violently with her fingers, feeling the pulse of her own heartbeat in the small bundle of nerves. She rubbed it vigorously, ferociously, as he continued to plow his manhood into her, impale her, fuck her for all he was worth. His bucks grew wild, and she saw the flutter of emotions play on his face as his own inevitability approached at supersonic speeds.
She and her lover raced toward orgasm together, in unison. She felt him expanding within her. She felt tight tunnel spasming around him.
Her lover reached forward suddenly and grabbed her breast, mashing it violently in his fingers as he arched his head back, letting out a deep and rumbling groan. He was nearly there, and with a savagery in her voice she snarled at him. “Hit me,” she said, her eyes full of a violence, a fury that belied the animal within her. Obliging her, he removed his hand from her breast and lifted it, bringing cracking down on her outside thigh, the sound of the smack like a gunshot going off.
She hissed beneath him. “Again.”
He brought his hand plummeting down to her angry red flesh again, and she felt herself crest, her body convulsing, bathing her lover in the hot fluid of her pleasure. Her sex clutched at him and she felt him swell within him, and he let out a rumbling roar to mix in with her own peaking moans. He erupted deep inside her, and she felt a warmth infiltrate her canal, coat her insides.
They lay together, a heaving and panting mess, entwined, connected, seeing out the ends of their orgasms as they held each other tightly, roughly. Jolene’s body was leaking sex all over her lover, and he in turn was spitting out his last few droplets of essence within her. As their random spasms and twitches ebbed, their hold of one another softened, became tender and more intimate. She kissed him passionately, letting her hand roam down to feel his softening shaft, feeling the mixture of their pleasure on her fingers. She brought her finger to his mouth and he sucked their fluid off her digit, and she laughed in delight before pulling him closer for a kiss once more, so she could get a taste of themselves.
“Oh, you’re home?” she said, playfully. “I hadn’t noticed.”
# # #
On behalf of all erotica authors, I would like to thank you for supporting the genre. It is hugely popular, immensely diverse, and is filled with myriad examples of great writing, and yet it is rarely afforded the privilege of shelf space (and in the virtual sense, too!). Your patronage is what allows us to keep doing what we love.
For that, I am eternally grateful.
I hope you enjoyed this story at least as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please feel free to send me feedback in any way, shape, or form.
If you are comfortable doing so, leaving a truthful review (so that means negatives, too!) would not only help me with my craft, but it would also give me direction on what to write next.
Thank you - AG.
About the Author
Audrey Grace is the pen name of a thirty-something traveler who has followed her father and his job around the world. A rebellious tomboy in her teenage years, Audrey first discovered her love of scribbling smut with an erotic short story written for class when she was fourteen. It was titled The Erotic Adventures of Hercules and earned her an appointment with the principal.
Having lived in Australia, Canada, China, Hong Kong, Japan, and the United Kingdom, smut (and traveling) have always been Audrey’s one consistent. Blessed with a hyperactive sex drive, it’s the one thing she just can’t stop doing. Audrey is currently based in Melbourne, Australia, but she won’t stay there for long!
www.AudreyGraceErotica.com
Audrey.Grace.Erotica@gmail.com
Check out Audrey Grace’s Author Page at Amazon!
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Bonus Material 1
Check out this excerpt of Audrey Grace’s pain and power themed tale, also part of the Your Pet For The Night series of BDSM shorts:
Leash Me (Your Pet For The Night)
By Audrey Grace
* * *
Claire is leashed by her Master, and dragged around downtown Melbourne. He takes her from club to bar, and her torture is unending. She's forced to watch him get a lap dance, and then she's forced to flirt with a stranger. And all along her jealousy writhes and squirms within her.
But when she's finally alone with him, she fails to heed his orders, and so she is punished quite severely... with molten candle wax.
* * *
You pull me roughly by my collar into a darkened alley. It’s a tiny space between two buildings, and metal piping surrounds us. You push me hard against the brick wall, and the force of it, it shocks me. And then you move in for a kiss, a kiss like no other could be.
You break the kiss and urgently whisper into my ear. “You’re mine,” you say, “you’re mine,” you say, “don’t you ever forget that!”
I nod and purr in your ear and your hand dives into your pocket. You retrieve the leash and fasten it once again to my collar.
“We’re going back to the hotel,” you say with boiling passion. “I’m sorry but we won’t be able to go to the cocktail bar.”
&nb
sp; You tug on my leash and walk quickly away and I am left to follow. Except this time I know where we are going, but still…I must follow.
And still, I want to follow.
We walk up to the fancy five star hotel, and burst into the lobby. People are too busy chatting amongst themselves to notice us walk in, even though I am leashed to you.
Even though I am wearing this collar.
We cram ourselves into a lift, our backs against the metal box that swifts us upward and upward. I look at you but you do not look at me. Your breathing is rapid and heavy, and I can see that your trousers are tented.
You are so excited already, and it makes me excited. I bite my lip in anticipation, wondering what is to come.
We get into our hotel room and you slam the door behind you, and you walk me to the bed, and you tell me, “take off your clothes, but leave the collar,” and you turn your back to me and and go and do something else.
I undress myself slowly and efficiently, and fold my clothes and place them at the foot of the bed. I stand there naked in front of you with nothing but my collar around my neck. It takes a while for you to notice that I’m already naked, and when you do a smile flickers briefly across your features. It’s wicked, devilish, even a little scary.
You walk to me and reach past me and gently peel back the covers, and then you take all of the pillows and throw them on the sofa. You say, “lie down,” and so I do, my back flat against the sheet.
“What are you going to do?” I ask, and you turn to look at me.
“Be quiet,” you say, “and don’t move,” you add, and you walk away from me, and I lie there, exposed and naked, for what feels like forever.
But then you return to my great relief, holding something for me, and it takes a moment for my mind to realize what it is.
In your hand are a bunch of small tea light votive candles, and you place them across my whole body, and look at me and smile.
“You must stay very still,” you tell me quietly. “I’m about to place a bowl of wine on your lovely belly. If you spill any of the wine, you will be punished, and don’t think for a moment that it won’t be severely.”
* * *
Bonus Material 2
Check out this sneak peak of Audrey Grace’s scorching BDSM OB/GYN short in Submitting to the Doctor:
Submitting to the Doctor
By Audrey Grace
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Michelle Marshall is a Sub. She trusts her Master. When her Master books her a gynecological exam, and she thinks that it will just be an ordinary check up. But she couldn't be more wrong. Dr. Pike tells her that her Master has left him very specific instructions, and that she's to obey his every word. She can see the doctor is enjoying it, but what choice does she have?
* * *
“I can also see by your chart that someone else called in your appointment for you.” He looked back down at the chart, nodded, then looked back up at me. “A Mr. Matthew Stone. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. That was Master. I felt a small prick of embarrassment that a man had called in for my gynecological exam, and desperately hoped that my cheeks weren’t turning red.
“He seems to have left some very… specific instructions,” the doctor continued.
“Oh?” I asked, feeling a surge of warmth in my face. My heartbeat quickened and I began to breathe a little more quickly. “I, um, don’t know about that.”
“Is Mr. Stone your regular doctor?”
This time, my cheeks burned. “Um, well, no, he’s, uh—”
“He’s your…?” the doctor prompted.
“My Master,” I whispered, looking down at the ground.
“I see.” Dr. Pike replied. A short silence settled between us before he spoke again. “That explains a lot, such as why he asked me to make sure that you were wearing a butt plug when you arrived here.”
I bit my lip and winced, feeling the prick of embarrassment and shame turn to a million stings. Goose bumps erupted on the tops of my arms and I shivered involuntarily.
“So, Ms. Marshall,” Dr. Pike said, and I heard something new in his voice. I looked back up at him to see that his boyish face had turned into something darker, something scarier, and his mouth was pulled into a devilish grin. “Are you?”
“P-pardon?”
“Are you,” he began, spacing out the words and enunciating each clearly. “Wearing a butt plug?”
Shit, I thought to myself. I was going to pop it out when I changed into my gown, and when nobody was looking, but realized that I wouldn’t have that option now. I could see in Dr. Pike’s face that he was already enjoying this.
Fucker.
“Yes, doctor,” I admitted. “I am.”
The grin on his face grew wider, and his body seemed to brim with a new energy. He was clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Unfortunately, Mr. Stone has left very specific instructions. He told me that I am to check, physically, that you are indeed wearing your butt plug.”
“Oh,” I sounded, my heart racing. I was beginning to feel quite hot, and I wiped away beaded sweat from my upper lip.
“I’m going to need you to stand against the wall, placing your palms on the wall above your head.”
“Okay,” I whispered, feeling uncertain and a little afraid. Though Dr. Pike had managed to keep his voice relatively professional, I could see the bulge in his trousers, and could practically feel the sexual energy radiating off him. The man was aroused. He was getting off on my discomfort, getting excited just anticipating my coming humiliation.
But what could I do? These were Master’s wishes. These were Master’s orders. I shut my eyes for a moment, before standing up and moving slowly to the wall. The nerves and fear gave way to some excitement, some anticipation, too. My body was whirring, my emotions a complete clash. It was why I was practically panting. It was why my hands were trembling.
I recalled the conversation with Master I’d had when he set up this appointment. He hadn’t told me of anything special happening. From the way he’d told me, it seemed as though this would just be a regular exam.
Carefully, I placed my hands against the wall as the doctor had ordered. I instantly felt his hands on the outsides of my thighs, grasping them while he pushed my skirt upwards. He bunched up the fabric above my hips, and quickly began pulling my panties down my legs. I winced, gritting my teeth as he guided my two feet out of my panties. He grabbed my ass in either hand and spread my cheeks roughly.
“Good girl,” he growled, tapping the base of the butt plug lightly. I felt the vibrations in my rectum.
* * *
Bonus Material 3
Check out this sneak peak of Audrey Grace’s extreme tale of bondage and humiliation:
Claimed by Aliens
By Audrey Grace
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Ana's Master requests her help at his exclusive fairground stall; she accepts, but Ana has no idea she's in for. She finds herself locked naked in a tiny wooden box, bound at the ankles and the wrists and suspended in the air, legs spread and a two-way mirror in front of her. Sex toys are in position and on motors. She knows many men are watching her, but she is completely unprepared for her... humiliation.
* * *
Inside the tent was a small wooden room. Steps led directly up to it. It was tiny, and smelled freshly of waxed wood. The room was well lit, and the birch looked great against my skin.
“Get in and sit down.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I got in and sat down. The room wasn’t very large. I was able to place each of my feet in a corner, with my knees still bent and pointing upward. Drake squeezed past me and fastened leather straps (they were absolutely gorgeous and soft) around my ankles, tying me to rings on the floor in the corners of the room. My heart was really racing.
“Hands.”
“Yes, Sir.” I lifted my hands above my head, and felt Drake fasten leather straps to them as well. They too were tied to metal rings that were hanging from the ceiling.
I heard Drake shuffling behind the small wooden room, and realized that I was effectively in a box, and that he could move around outside. A wooden panel was pulled up through the top revealing a mirror directly in front of me. With my legs spread, and my arms bound above my head, I could see nearly every inch of myself.
A bit more shuffling, and a small tube was lowered down near my face.
“Water,” I heard him call through the wooden box. I had become accustomed now to calling my room a box. It, after all, wasn’t really a room.
I tested the tube, and indeed cool water flowed. I knew at this point that my time spent in this box would be considerable.
Without warning, the rings my wrists were bound to were pulled, and I was suspended in the air. My bum lifted off the floor. I was hanging by my wrists, and anchored by my ankles.
I gazed around the small box, or you could call it a human-sized cupboard, seeing if there were any details I could make out. I saw two small circular holes cut into the sides of the box, the ‘walls’, on both my left and my right. Each was roughly three to four inches off the ground. My mind was already racing through the possibilities, and I could feel my breath beginning to quicken. Images and fantasies whirred through my mind, playing themselves out before me.
But I quickly found out what really was to come. Through each hole, two cables were pushed through. The cables were stiff and black. At the end of each cable was a small pinching clamp, and with toothed-fingers, too. I shivered and quivered, not even having guessed that this was what they were going to be used for.