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Leah woke with a gasping sob of panic. The dream of terror had been so real and then the reality of the last day punched at her as she tried to claw the blindfold off. Cool, strong hands easily grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands back from her face.

“Shhhh. It’s okay, Pet. You are safe here with me. Calm down, My Beauty. That’s it.” He crooned at her softly until she stopped fighting him.

Her hands were free, she realized, she could feel the leather cuffs still on each wrist, but they were free. If she continued to fight him, he would bind her again. She didn’t want that again. She mentally inventoried herself and found that she was also free of the tacky high heels. She could feel the soft warmth of a blanket around her legs. Frowning, she tried to reconcile a person who would buy another person being thoughtful enough to undo her hands, take off her shoes and cover her with a blanket while she slept.

“If I let go of your hands, do you give me your solemn word that you will not try to remove the blindfold, hurt yourself or anyone else?”

Leah knew that there was no possible way for her to escape right now. She had no way of hiding any useful tool she might procure. She would bide her time and move later when he was not suspecting it. Perhaps she could lure him into trusting her.

“Yes, I give you my solemn oath,” she replied discouraged and then belated added, “Master.”

“Good girl for remembering,” she could hear the smile in his voice and she had the strange desire to hiss at him. His hands released her wrists and she dropped them to the blanket, trying to drape it over her for modesty.

“You slept very soundly. We will be landing soon and then I will take you to your new home. I am sure that you are going to like it.”

Leah’s nose twitched and under the blindfold, her eyes widened. He had coffee. She could smell it. Oh God! She hadn’t had any coffee since she had been kidnapped. She could almost taste it in her mouth.

He chuckled at her, “Does my Pet like coffee?”

Leah nodded, “Please…. Master, may I have a cup?”

“Hmmm…” he replied thoughtfully, “I will let you have a cup if you can tell me what my fist lesson to you was.”

First lesson? Oh Shit! His stupid rules. She searched her mind frantically. Kneeling. That was it. The pervert wanted her to keep her legs spread. “To keep my legs spread when I am kneeling.”

“Excellent.” He stroked her hair. “Raymond, get a cup of coffee for my pet. Cream and sugar in it.”

A few moments later, Leah was sipping the steaming, fragrant brew congratulating herself for winning that round. Carlton smiled down at his slave, enjoying how much she enjoyed her cup of coffee. Her training had started so nicely.

Leah sipped the coffee and contemplated her situation. She may had been raised in a sheltered home, but she had no illusions that this man who had bought her was going to use her sexually and may possibly even kill her. She was actually surprised beykent escort that he had not done anything yet. So far, other than engaging in white slavery, he had been very kind to her. The “Master” thing was disturbing. As she recalled from the little information that she knew on the subject, that belonged to people dressed in leather with whips and chains. Now that was sick.

Savoring the coffee, she wondered how anyone could enjoy being whipped. She imagined the pain would be horrible. Her mind took the idea and wondered what would happen if this man with the cool, strong hands were to chain her to a wall and threaten to whip her.

“Penny for your thoughts, Pet?” Carlton asked. He had noticed that she was breathing faster and that her nipples were hard nubs. Arousal? Surely the coffee wasn’t that good. His sharp eyes did not miss her guilty start.

“N-nothing.” Leah stammered, feeling a blush spreading over her face. “I was just drinking the coffee, Master.”

“Don’t lie to me, Pet,” his voice grew stern, a steel edge to it that made Leah shiver. “Drinking coffee does not make you blush.” He reached out and took the cup of coffee, ignoring the pained whimper of loss from Leah. “Stand up. Leave the blanket on the floor.”

Fear gripping her, Leah stood, feeling very naked and vulnerable.

“Put your hands behind your head, lacing your fingers together and spread your legs – wider.”

Leah trembled, unable to stop. She thought for a moment of telling him what she had been thinking of, but the humiliation of it was too strong for her. She jumped when his hand touched her thigh, drawing away from him.

“Get back in position and don’t move or I will punish you. Hysterics will also be punished.”

Biting her lower lip, fighting for control of her body, Leah put herself back into position. His foot pushed her legs open wider. Again, the cool hand rested on her thigh and then traveled slowly inward. His fingers parted her lower lips and moved gently along her slit. Leah thought that might die from the shame that filled her. The fingers withdrew.

“Kneel exactly as you are.” He commanded gently.

Almost grateful, Leah sank to her knees. She fought to lower her head to hide her shame, but the high-necked collar wouldn’t allow her to do that. She was forced to hold her head up proudly. Her shame was only intensified as his wet fingers traced her parted lips, smearing her juices over them.

“You are wet with desire, Pet. I am glad to see that I have such an eager little slave, but I highly doubt that you were aroused by the coffee. Now tell me. What were you thinking about? I expect complete and total honesty from you.”

For a long moment there was only the sound of the plane as Leah’s mind scrambled to find some way to be honest without actually telling him. “I – I was wondering what you are going to do with me.”

His fingers traced her lips again, “That is gaziosmanpaşa escort natural. Tell me, Pet, what are you worried about? Is it the idea that you are mine against your will? That I will take from you whatever I desire? That you were bought and sold like livestock?”

She lifted her head in defiance as anger burned through the thick fear, “No, Master” she spit the name at him in disgust, “that just tells me that you are sick pervert who isn’t man enough to get a woman on his own.”

He chuckled, “Ahh, I knew there was fight in you. Of course, I will have to punish you for being insubordinate, but first we need to get to the bottom of what has my little slave so wet.”

“I am not your slave!” Leah snapped at him, dropping her hands from behind her neck. “You are not my Master.”

Blind to what he was doing, she was unprepared when he grabbed her arm, twisting her painfully, while locking the cuffs together again behind her back. She cried out as his hand wrapped in her hair, pulling her head back and arching her back until she couldn’t move.

His voice was gentle despite his actions, “I know this is a hard concept for you to grasp, Pet, but the sooner you accept your reality, the easier it will be for you. You are going to make an exquisite slave.”

Leah tried to move, but the pain was too great. Her anger warred with her fear. She should give in and go along until she could find a way to escape. That is what she should do. Giving in was for the weak.

She jumped again, almost loosing a patch of hair, as his fingers probed her again. “Get your fucking hands off me, you freaking pervert!”

Carlton held her in the painful position and spoke calmly, “I will touch what is mine, when I want to. Raymond, fetch me the crop, please.”

“Of course, Sir.” Raymond hurried to the closet of the plane and located the crop in the suitcase of equipment and brought it back to his employer. He watched with amazement the ease with which Carlton held the squirming girl in one hand and began to trace the leather tip of the crop over her breasts, teasing the nipples.

Leah froze as the leather slid over her skin teasing her nipples. A crop was a type of whip wasn’t it? He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t dare. But there was nothing to stop him. She gasped as the crop tapped right on her nipple and her body jerked in response. An odd sensation of pleasure raced through her. He tapped her nipples again and again, over and over making her body jump. It was a torture of horrid delight. A part of her wanted it to go on forever, but the sensations were too much.

“Please! Stop! Please!”

The crop kept its gentle dance on first one nipple and then the other, “Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“Whips. I was worried that you would whip me. Please Stop!”

“You forgot something, Pet.”

“Master! Please!” Leah could feel the wetness between her legs now and her eyes ortaköy escort welled with tears.

The crop stopped and he lessened the pressure on her head, “Now wouldn’t that have been easier if you had just obeyed from the start?”

Leah shook and mumbled a “yes, Master.”

“Now, I think that 25 for being insubordinate and 25 for swearing at me is a fair punishment.” He pulled her to her feet by her hair and moved her to one of the other leather armchairs on the plane, pushing her face first into the seat so her ass stuck up nicely in the air. He kicked her legs open wide.

“Oh God, Please don’t do this, Please!,” Leah called out in fresh terror as she realized that he really was going to whip her. The first lash caught her by surprise, the pain flashing through her like fire.

Carlton kept his strokes firm and steady, appraising how the crop marked her even as he counted. He ignored Leah’s sobbing cries for him to stop, making sure that he covered her entire backside and upper thighs evenly.

When he was done, he stepped back and admired the picture. She was no longer fighting him, and God, she was beautiful with the marks on her fair skin. She was definitely a canvas for his best work. He leaned over and whispered to Raymond. Raymond nodded and went back to the equipment suitcase.

Gently Carlton turned his slave around and guided her to her knees back at his seat, “I am disappointed with your swearing, Pet. A girl with your background should not be using words like those. I think maybe if your mouth were busy with something else, you won’t have to worry about letting your tongue slip.”

He took the penis gag from Raymond, even as he watched his slave pale, her imagination filling in the blank spots with lurid pictures. It was amazing how well she communicated everything with her body.

“Open your mouth.”

Leah hesitated.

“Pet, if I have to force you, I will give you another cropping for disobedience,” his voice had a tinge of sadness to it.

Against her better judgment, Leah opened her mouth. The smell of leather and plastic filled her nose. She drew back a bit, but the fear of another cropping and the pain that throbbed through her, made her obey. A shaft of rubber was pushed into her mouth, filling it. She whimpered around it, trying not to panic as he pushed it deeper as he pulled the leather straps around her head and buckled it tightly.

“Of course, it is not as large as I will be in your mouth, Pet, but this will give you some practice.”

Miserable and defeated, Leah felt the plane begin to descend. The pain from the cropping and the humiliation of being forced to suck a penis shaped thing kept Leah occupied as the plane landed and taxied. In a daze, she let herself be guided of the plane, into a car and settled on the floor where she was ignored.

She flitted in and out of a pained doze, having no idea where she was, what time it was, or even how long she had been in the car. The sharp pain of her situation burned through her. He would force her to be a slave and there was nothing that she could do to stop him.

The car stopped and the door opened. The leash on her collar pulled her out and she stumbled out, shivering at the bite of winter in the air, gravel biting at her bare feet.

“Here we are, Pet. You’re home now.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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You’d left a gift for me. Opening it, my fingers trembled ever so slightly. The package held a plain leather collar, one I’d had for a long time. A shiny new red tag in the shape of a heart engraved with the word “Kyttn” dangling from the front.

I finger the tag and smile, then run my fingers over the well-worn leather before putting the collar on. The tag jingles as it falls cool against the base of my throat. I go to the closet, looking through to see what you might like to come home to find me in. I knew the most obvious answer: the collar and nothing else; but I enjoyed dressing up for you. I pull a very short black skirt from the closet and set it on the bed, which I had only this afternoon made up with clean satin sheets. Choosing a top would be a bit more difficult, there were so many cute ones that I knew you liked. While thinking, I find my strappy stilettos and fishnets, along with my garter belt and set them all with the skirt. I didn’t even think of picking out any panties, knowing I didn’t need them and it would be more exciting without them. Glancing at the clock, I realize I have very little time to dress. I pull a sheer glittery red top from the closet, this one will work, you’ve not seen it yet and I know you will like it. It matches my new collar tag. As quickly as I can, I dress and then smooth the bedspread, making it look as perfect as I could.

Just in time, I hear your car pull into the drive and know I must hurry to get to the door. You like it when I greet you, and I want you to be pleased tonight. Tonight is special. The key turns in the lock and my heart skips a beat. I hesitate, wanting to pounce you as the door opens, but know I must show some self-restraint. Your eyes are on mine even as the door barely allows you to come into view, and then your gaze drops down over my body. I feel a shiver go through me, excitement, anxiety, hope that you love how I look. Your gaze travels back up and you smile as your eyes meet mine again.

“I’m home, lovely.” The words are barely past your lips when I move to press myself against you and kiss you. You let your keys drop to the floor, and your arms go around me, one hand between my shoulders, the other cupping my ass, both drawing me as close as you can. My collar’s tag jingles as I move and you pull back, smiling. “Good Kyttn.”

Averting my eyes, a small smile crosses my lips. “Thank you, it was a lovely gift.”

“I know. That’s why I had to get it for you.” You knew it was a very simple present, but it is also something you knew would be very precious to me. “Have you earned it, however?” You step back from me, releasing me from your embrace.

Looking back up at you, my eyes widen ever so slightly. “Have I?” my voice is quiet and slightly unsure.

“I asked you, precious. Show me that you have earned your gift.”

What was left of my smile faded with a twitch. I knew what you wanted, and knew I was capable of giving it. However, my desire to please fought with my dislike of the act. You tapped one foot, waiting.

“Shouldn’t we come out of the entryway?” I ask, a small attempt to avoid things.

“Is that because you want me to be more comfortable or because you want to delay?”

You knew what I was doing. I should have known you would, I knew how well you knew me. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you wait for my answer. I know from your stance that I can’t dance around things this time. However, if we did move into the living room, you would be more comfortable.

Giving a little bow of my head, my words are barely audible. “It was a delay, but you would be more comfortable if we went elsewhere.” The truth was going to get me in trouble.

“Lead the way, pet.” You smirk slightly, keeping my little punishment for later.

I do as told this time, walking slowing in front of you to the couch in the living room. You sit in your usual place on the end of the couch and flick the TV on with the remote. I kneel in front of you, quietly untying your shoes and gently pulling them from your feet. You act as if you’re ignoring me, changing the channels until you find the night’s news. I scoot around on the floor to face you, between your legs, looking to you for some sign of approval. Receiving none, my hands go to your waist, fingers working at your belt and then your pants. Still you give no sign even as I gently release your cock from it’s confinements. You are soft in my hands at first, and I love the feel of your velvety skin. I can never get enough of touching you. There is a smile tugging the corner of your mouth, but I can’t see it as I lean forward and lay kisses along the slowly hardening treat in my hands. Gently, I take the head into my mouth and swirl my tongue around it, knowing it’s one of your most sensitive areas. Even as you continue to harden and lengthen, I take you farther into my mouth, hadımköy escort using very very light suction to tease and delight. You make a very soft sound, and I want to look up but resist, knowing you will not allow me to see if you are enjoying this. I slide my hands to rest on your thighs as I continue my light ministrations, slowly increasing the strength of the suction while moving up and down along your cock, my head bobbing slightly and making my ponytail swish across the back of my neck. My collar’s tag jingles more, reminding me of what I am thanking you for. I hear you set the remote on the end table beside the couch and moments later your hands are on my shoulders, rubbing ever so slightly as you lean your head back, eyes closing. A very quiet moan escapes your lips, and my heart leaps. I love hearing that you are enjoying me.

“Ohhhh,” your voice is low, causing my body to tighten with longing. I know that you won’t last much longer if I continue, but I want to. You’ll stop me if you don’t want to cum in my mouth. I don’t think you’ll stop me, this is one of your favorite ways to enjoy me. I purr deep in my throat just as I take you as deep as I possibly can, my fingers are splayed on your thighs and they tighten, making claws against your pants, pulling slightly. Your touch on my shoulders tightens as well, telling me you’re close. So close.

“Mmm,” I pull back, nearly all the way, fully licking along the underside of your shaft. I stop before letting you leave my mouth, swirling my tongue again and again around the head. I can taste you as I do let you out, flicking my tongue over the tip. The cool air of the room hits the warm wetness I’ve left behind and I smile as your cock twitches. I do look at you now, loving how you look, so relaxed, enjoying what it is I do to you. Your eyes open ever so slightly and you look at me.

“Finished?” a note of disappointment fills the word.

I shake my head and drop back down, taking you deep in my mouth and then bobbing up and down some more. I know that pulling back can make you last longer, but I work to bring you all the way back to the heights of climax, wanting to have you explode in my mouth. I fight to take you as deep as possible when suddenly my wish is fulfilled and your sweet, sticky cum bursts from you, hitting the back of my throat and causing me to blink back a few tears as I try not to gag on it. Your grip tightens more on my shoulders and then releases as you relax fully again. Slowly, I sit back as I let you out of my mouth, sucking you clean as I go. Swallowing hard, I look to you for approval and you pull me into your lap.

“You thrill me every time you do that, Kyttn.” You murmur as you lightly brush the hair that has fallen around my face. Your lips brush my forehead, and you cradle me in your arms. I lift my chin so I can look at you fully and you nuzzle my cheek, gently pushing my head to the side so you can nibble my neck. A soft giggly-purr rumbles my throat and I snuggle closer to you.

“I’m not done with you though,” your lips move against my neck as you speak, and then you bite hard, causing me to squeal and arch my back. Your arms tighten, holding me as still as possible. You release the bite and trail kisses and nips down my neck to my collar bone. One hand slides up my back to catch a finger beneath the strap of my shirt and pull it off my shoulder.

We both know there’s not enough room on the couch, and you scoot forward to the edge before lowering me to the floor. “Stay.” One finger touches my nose, eyes locked with mine. I nod and remain still. Not always the case, and I’ve been shown the resulting punishments several times over, but tonight I do as told, watching your face as your fingers stroke my arms, the light touch tickling me softly. I squirm a little, and you smile. There have been nights when even the slightest movement like that would be against the rules, but tonight was not one of those nights. You move to straddle my legs, your hands dropping to my hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of my skirt and tugging it down a little bit to show the edges of my hip bones. Tracing across them, your hands move up now, sliding under my sheer shirt, stopping just when your fingertips brush the bottom of my breasts.

“Mmm,” you dip your head to my stomach and kiss below my navel, tongue flicking out to leave a wet spot when you pull back. I try to watch you, but know that I am not allowed to lift my head and so it is difficult to see what you are doing, though I can feel it. You blow on the damp skin, sending a shiver through me, eliciting a little whimper from me and I squirm between your legs.

“I said stay,” you sit up straighter and look at me. My eyes lock onto yours and I bite my lip. I’ve disobeyed, even with such a slight movement. Generally your haramidere escort punishments are equal to the discretion, but there is the occasion that elicits more. I’ve not yet figured out how to tell when you’ll give more, and I wonder if I ever will. You smirk slightly, and get up off of me, tuck yourself back into your pants and fasten them again. But your belt you leave undone, taking the end and pulling it from your pants. I stay on the floor, looking up at you, eyes widening some. You’ve never beat me before, not like it seems you will now. There have been a few nights, with the short whip you’ve got in the bedroom, but that never hurt for more than a few seconds and you never used it for extended amounts of time. The pain from that was more of a pleasure than anything else. You hold one hand out, offering it to me.

“Get up, pet.”

I take your hand, allowing you to help me back up onto my feet. My shirt falls back over my stomach, and I reach one hand up to pull the strap you moved down back onto my shoulder. You nod toward the stairs, and I know I’m to lead the way up to the bedroom. I turn, quiet as I walk, wondering what lies in store. I grit my teeth slightly, preparing for anything. I know that you know my limits, and that you know how far you can push them. I know you wouldn’t do anything that would hurt me permanently, I trust you to only hurt me as much as you think I can handle. Trust…a smile flickers across my lips. It’s a very special feeling that you give me, I hope dearly that I can earn the right to it.

You swat my ass with the belt, indicating I need to move faster and get to where I’m supposed to be. I pick up to a little trot-like pace and hurry my way up the stairs with you still close on my heels. My stiletto slips near the top of the stairs and I nearly face plant myself, but you catch my hips and pull me back up.

“Be more careful,” is all you say, making sure I’ve gained my balance before releasing my hips, trailing one hand over my ass, groping it for a split second. I take care with finishing my way up the top few stairs then pick up pace a bit again heading down the hall to the bedroom. Assuming you plan to spank me with your belt, I take my usual position, legs spread, hands on the posts of the bed just above the soft ropes you use to tie me with. Saying nothing, you lean against the doorway for a moment, eyes drinking me in. My skirt is just short enough that you can see the curve of my bottom, deliciously lined with the strings of my garter belt that attaches to my fishnets mid-thigh. I lift my head and glance over my shoulder at you, waiting. You smirk and step out of the doorway, leaving the door open because you have no reason to shut it. There is no one else in the house to hear, besides since I was being punished, it didn’t matter whether there were people listening or not. I was to take my punishment however you wished, even with an audience. You laid the belt on the bed and tied my wrists with the ropes, not so tight as to hurt, but just tight enough that I would be unable to slip free, then you step close behind me, rubbing your groin against my ass cheeks as you grasp my hips and pull me back until my arms are outstretched, straining slightly against the ropes. Then you push my legs further apart, to the point that I am nearly struggling to stand. I twist my neck so I can look at you, eyes filled with wondering. I know if you strike me hard enough with the belt even just a few times, I’ll fall due to the unbalanced position you’ve stuck me in. I am sure in my mind that if I fall it will only elicit further punishment.

Done with positioning me, you step back and smile, going back to the belt. You finger the bedspread, admiring my handiwork. “Pefectly made, as always, dearest Kyttn.”

The compliment made my heart sing. Although I knew when you were pleased with me, it was rare to receive compliments. Every one you gave was a precious treasure to me, urging me to continue the actions that solicited the compliments even if they were only spoken once. I bowed my head slightly, blushing.

“You will have to make it again, I’m afraid, once I’ve finished with you.” You pick up the belt and step back around to stand behind me. My body trembles, partially due to the straining position you’ve placed me in and partially due to anticipation of the first blow.

It never comes. I wait before looking back, slightly worried that once I do, you will strike me. Instead, I see you step closer, black satin blindfold in hand. Rubbing against my backside again, you slip the cloth over my eyes and fasten it snugly around my head. Now I can’t see what you do, good or bad. The loss of my sight thrills me, and I let a soft giggle escape.

“Quiet,” your fingers are soft against my lips. I kiss them lightly just as atakent escort you move your hand away from my face. Your other hand is on my rear again, caressing lightly through the short sheer layers of fabric. I bite my lip, but can’t hold back the whimper when you spank me. Just once, a quick sharp open-handed blow, but it stings even through my skirt. My noise brings your hand back to my face as you grasp my chin firmly.

“I said quiet, did I not, pet?”

I can’t see you, but my eyes are flicking back and forth behind the blindfold, a silent search for forgiveness.

“Did I not?” you ask again. I had not known you wanted an answer. Your grip on my chin keeps me from nodding and I’m afraid to voice my acknowledgement, but I know I have to give some sort of answer. My tongue slides over my lips, whetting them slightly.

“Yes,” my answer is so soft it’s barely audible. But I know you hear me, in the silence of the room it would be impossible not to. The sharp smack on my cheek was unexpected, although I should have known. I had spoken when told to be silent. My eyes watered beneath the blindfold. Sometimes it felt unfair, being punished for something you had asked me to do in the first place. However, I knew that there were other ways to answer you. I had chosen the wrong one.

You moved away from me again, and I couldn’t hear you in the room. I wondered if you were going to leave me like this till my balance gave out and I collapsed, but my pondering was cut short when I felt the gag pressed against my lips. I knew I had to take it and opened my mouth to allow you to press it into place. You took your time securing it behind my head, ensuring it was just snug enough that it wouldn’t slip at all. Now I had lost three things: freedom of movement, sight, and voice. I felt like I was as restrained as I could possibly be, though we had done much more restraining things in the past. You stepped away from me once more and again I could only wonder if you were going to stay in the room. My body trembled, and it seemed by doing so, it made the first blow of the belt against my rear more painful. I closed my eyes tightly beneath the blindfold to hold back the tears pricking them and my cry was muffled by the gag, though not so much that you couldn’t hear a noise. The second blow stung much more. My knees shook. I really didn’t think I could handle this, you’d never been this severe before. I tried to slip into the dark parts of my mind, the parts that knew you’d never do more than you thought I could handle. I tried to draw comfort from that fact, knowing that you believed I was strong enough to take this punishment. I pulled that knowledge around me like a thick, warm blanket, and forced my body to stop shaking. It took a lot of effort on my part, but you noticed it and smiled.

“I will never break you, precious Kyttn,” your tone is soft and sincere as you step close behind me. I hear the belt drop to the floor, and your hands slide under my skirt to caress the now tender skin. Your touch seems to sooth the pain, and I relax slightly. Then I realize that in one of the instances after you’d blindfolded me that you stripped down and now your hardened cock presses against my rear. Without lube, you push yourself into my ass, knowing that with every inch you press in, little pains will shoot through my body. My whimpers are nearly silent behind the gag as I try not to cry out, the hurt is not entirely pleasant now and I don’t want to elicit further punishment, especially as I worry you are just beginning with my torture. Your hands grasp my hips until you’ve filled my ass to the hilt, your front pressed perfectly against my backside. Once you are there, your hands slide up under my shirt again and you caress the bottom edge of my breasts, keeping the rest of your body still, allowing my body to relax a bit. Your fingers flick across my nipples and cause them to harden nearly instantly. A soft laugh is followed by you maneuvering both of us a step or two closer to the bed so you can pull me upright just enough that you can tweak my nipples between your thumbs and index fingers. The little teasing pain there distracts from when you start to move slowly back out of my ass, then in again, taking your time to build up a comfortable pumping rhythm. It does hurt because it’s dry, but I bite back any noises, knowing that if I do, even gagged, it could mean more pain. As you continue, my body relaxes, and it begins to become more pleasure than pain and I find myself fighting the urge to push back against you as you press into me. If I move without permission, I know, again, that it could bring further punishment. Still, you can tell that I’ve begun to enjoy it, a smile crossing your face.

“You like that, pet? Like having your ass filled with my cock, Kyttn?” your voice is almost a growl as you gain a bit more speed in your movements. I nod in reply, though I wonder if you notice the acknowledgement due to the natural way I move with your movements. You must notice, because you speak again, “good girl.”

I smile, hard to do around the gag in my mouth. Then I push back just once when you press deep into me.

“You want more, precious?”

Oh god, do I want more.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

the collar is simple.

black, about an inch thick. not comfortable, or uncomfortable. not tight. not loose. you put it on me, buckle it slowly, warm fingertips against my skin. cold metal. stiff leather. I am standing. you have not said anything, it just appeared in your hands and i freeze. i am cold as you gently and carefully lift my hair to adjust it and arrange my hair on my shoulders after. i am shaking. i expect the leash, the sharp tug, the pain, my whole body is ready for it. i wait, afraid. but it doesn’t come. you sit looking at me. the collar lays against my throat. simple, like a fact.

something must happen, my body is buzzing, illuminated. so i strip. directly, piece by piece, for your calm eyes. i drop my shirt, my black bra, my jeans on the floor. i stand again, naked and barefoot. you watch silently, and then look at my body and the collar. you like it, but you don’t show it. i know to turn around before you even make a gesture. i lift my hair so you can see my back, the silver of the buckle and the loop. i stand still.

i hear you stand up and go to my knees right away. i kneel on my clothes and wait. i want to cross my arms, protect my body, but i don’t. i open my palms at my sides and start breathing fast. i wait for the touch. i am burning.

but you walk silently past me to the bathroom and turn on the water in the tub. i hear the sound and wait. i can’t bear to be away from you, but i fear to stand. so i crawl. i crawl into the bathroom, wood floor on my knees, then cool tile. you lean against the door and watch. i move slowly, my breath harsh. the collar seems like the only thing i’ve ever worn. but you don’t come to me, don’t touch.

“we’re going out. help me now.”

at last i have a task, so i can relax a little, although my skin shivers like it has frost on it. i go to you on my knees and raise my hands, palms up. you place then against your thighs casually, firmly. i peel your clothes off and then am very efficient. i fold them. i keep my eyes down, stay on my knees.

i help you into the bath and watch the water pour over your body. every inch. i get to eat you with my eyes. now yours are closed. i use soap, soft cloth, slowly rub it over you, like i am painting your body a different color. i love it. to get to touch you so slowly. slow, soap, rhythm, your eyes closed. i pour the perfect water over your skin. your eyes stay closed. i want to say that you are beautiful, but i cannot speak. at last i breathe one soft, “thank you” as i work. you do not respond.

i stand to dry your body–i put the towel on the radiator so it would be warm–and help you dress. this is interesting because i pick the clothes. i fear that you won’t like my choices, but you are quiet, relaxed, you let me move slowly and steal little touches as i dress you. i know not to ask for too much. as soon as you are dressed, you move fast and suddenly for the first time. you walk from me, and throw a black dress on the bed, small, stretchy, i’d usually wear it with pants. you throw my black boots on top.

“just that. nothing else. and get out here.”

we go out to a bar. when we get there, you lead me to the bar, one hand on the small of my back. i lean against it and you adjust my hair so it falls behind my back, not in front of my breasts. it is loud. i am self-conscious in the short, tight dress, but it is busy, and only the men near me let their eyes flicker over my heavy breasts–not big, but prominent–straining against the black cotton.

you get me a drink. a manhattan, one cherry. strong for me. i lean next to you, we look at the room. the collar could not even be noticed here–it could look like jewelry. i drink. it is strong. i start to relax. you are quiet some, you talk to the bartender, to a girl and her boyfriend next to us. you feel gentle and strong next to me.

i smell you every now and then when you lean over. my nipples are hard. i like the drink, i like people looking. i am getting comfortable. i pick up my glass and drain it. the second i set it down on the bar your hand quickly reaches for the collar and i hear a snap. my stomach lurches as you adjust the length of the leash around your wrist. in public? i am covered with a cold sweat. everything is blurry. you step away from the bar and give the leash a short sharp tug. the people near us see and look away, or look closer. i stumble. you don’t wait. i catch up, walking quickly at your side to the back of the bar. more people stare–my face burns. the leash is slack as i walk by your side. we get to the hallway by the washrooms, loud, dirty, a long hall–i wonder where esenler escort we are going. i say, “where . . .”

and you shove me against the wall. i gasp. you press my shulders back and say, “don’t move.” i don’t. you pull down on the neck of the dress, so that more of my breasts are exposed. i am shuddering. i say, “please touch me . . .” you smile. for the first time all night. you say, “i think you’re ready, my beauty.”

and then, “down.”

i am confused, i hesitate, it is loud, dirty, seems crowded, i am afraid.

“down. NOW.”

i kneel clumsily and wait. you stand in front of me. you pull up on the collar and i raise my chin. you say, ‘lick your lips.” i do it. you pull down again on the dress. then you evaluate me. you reach down slowly and pinch both nipples through the dress, feeling them harden like stones. i whimper and pull back. you roll them between your fingers roughly. i am wet. you look steadily at my eyes and torment my nipples. when you decide i’m ready, you lean against the wall next to me. relaxed. my knees on the dirty floor, the dress riding up, nothing under it. breasts aching and pushing against the fabric.

i wait, tense, keeping my breasts pushed out like you like them.

you wait.

a washroom door opens.

he comes out of the washroom loudly, hand against the wall. young guy, drunk, blonde, athletic. he pauses a second as he sees me on my knees. you say, “hey.” he greets you casually, a little uncertain. almost walks by. you make a joke, he laughs, i can’t really hear. male voices above me, both laughing a little. you say, “show your tits, honey. show this guy what you’ve got.” i am still, my heart beating fast. he’s nervous too, but waits–you might be joking, but there I am, on my knees. i feel the loop of the leash gently between my shoulder blades. it makes me startle and push my breasts forward. you say, “go on. you want to see ’em, right?” the guy says, “uh, yeah . . . “

i pull the neck of the dress down, reach in with my hands and lift my breasts out and over the top. they are white, glowing, large peach-colored nipples, hard. goosebumps. i want to shrink away, but again the leash on my back to i thrust them forward. everyone is silent and my nipples get harder as they are stared at. i bow my head. hear your soft voice, “she’ll blow you, man, if you want. she’s into it.” he is still staring and moves uncertainly a little closer. “show him,” you say, the loop of the leash gently under my chin. i raise my eyes and look. his face is red, he looks baffled and hungry, he nervously looks down the hall, we hear the sounds of the bar. he takes an uncertain step towards me and i reach for his belt, gagging and sick.

my knees hurt as i see the single eye of his hard cock right away. it is warm and unfamiliar, he tries to keep his pants up but pushes it pretty eagerly at my mouth. he’s psyched, you can tell, but nervous too. i almost vomit as i taste it, but i feel your eyes on my mouth. i open it, take the tip, swirl my tongue around the head, he says, “fuck. oh fuck.” that helps. i know how to do this. i grasp him firmly and pretend it’s you. i go to work. long strokes down the shaft, hot and wet, i bury my face in the cloth, his hair, his balls. he groans and grabs the wall. you are silent but i feel your eyes.

“oh, shit, shit.” he comes hard in my mouth, i force myself to swallow, and pull away. he staggers back and does up his pants. he exhales like he’s going to faint. looks down at me and doesn’t know what to say so he thanks you, and laughs a little nervously. you say, “hey, no problem.” lazily. like it was an easy favor.

he staggers quickly back to the bar. i am silent, breasts still out, still almost retching, the bleach, sweet sour strange taste in my mouth. i feel the leash under my chin and raise my face–you stare at my mouth. passive but keen. i know you are hard, i want to reach for you but hear sounds behind me.

the guy is back, with a friend. heavy set, darker. “see, there, she’s got her tits out and everything. she blew me, go ahead!” he’s laughing, a little hysterical. his friend is drunker, less nervous. he looks at you. you say, “sure, you want her? go ahead honey. open up.” I helplessly open my mouth.

the dark guy is giggling and gets out his cock fast. it is bigger. he jams it in my mouth. he groans right away and reaches for my hair. i suck hard to defend my throat. i use my teeth right away, gentle. “oh fucking hell.” he reaches for my heard and holds the back of my head, fucking my mouth hard, once he got permission, florya escort he’s really giving it to me. his friend says, “careful, jesus!” and laughs, but you say, “nah, she can take it.” so he pounds harder, my head hits the wall, he comes down my throat, i choke and cough.

just then the bathroom door opens and a girl comes out–a new guy also comes down the hall–they both freeze right away as the dark guy pulls out, wipes his dick on my tits and staggers against the wall, laughing. his friend congratulates him. they are braver together. now they both watch as they are cracking up. “you want in? ” they say to the new guy. they don’t know him. he says, “what the hell?” but moves closer. now i don’t even bother to try to get the cum off my lips. i reach for him and he pulls away but i gently rub the front of his jeans and he doesn’t go that far. the girl says, “don’t you dare!” and laughs. drunk, too.

he almost pulls away, and grabs her arm to steady himself, but then i hear you say, “hey, its cool. you want her to do you first?” to the girl. everyone laughs like you can’t be serious, but the leash goes under my chin and you speak to me seriously, and so they all quiet down. the two guys against the wall, the new guy next to me and the girl. you say, “lick your lips for her, honey. show her that pretty tongue and what it can do.”

i close my eyes but not before i see make up, long light hair, slutty purple shirt, short skirt. she’s maybe 23. her guy says, “yeah, do it, and pushes her in front of him, holds her hips and presses into her from behind.

she laughs but is laughing at her guy pushing her towards me–she is ignoring me, pretty much. he slowly lifts her skirt. tan thighs, lavender panties, sexy, cheap, lacy. they guys make noise. she says, “no!” and giggles. you rest your hand on my head–again, moving slower than anyone else. i resist, but can’t. i reach to her and lick gently with the end of a pointed tongue. it touches the fabric–i smell her musk, i am drawn, but scared. as soon as i make contact with her panties, the room is still. charged, hot, changed.

she is still–wanting a it a little, pulling back a little. the guys are hushed, watching. i realize i am on my knees with no options and she is standing, doing whatever she wants. she has freedom, i am nothing. i reach for her with my hands, run them up the back of her thighs. okay, bitch, i am going to make this a fucking work of art. i lick her thighs slowly and carefully, all the way up. i smell pussy, it is almost too intimate to be so close. i have never done this before.

your hand on my hair. you know it is new to me, you are there with me. giving some kind of detailed instruction, but not letting me out of it.

my fingers trace the edge of her panties and i kiss her lightly and sweetly, right on her trimmed cunt. she tenses. i slowly pull the panties down to her knees . . . .

she moans right away. not used to being approached so slowly. she’s ready and hot. it is dead silent in the hall, music and bar loud at the other end. i hesitate now that i taste her for the first time, feel her hair on my tongue. but i think of you watching–all of them watching, wanting her–somehow i want more of that, even from my knees, i want to make this pussy perfect for you. i imagine i am getting her ready for you. and then i can go on.

i open her gently, just with my tongue at first. i flick her wet slit, teasing. i hold her ass and control her movement, now licking up the trimmed slit, lightly but steadily. i get slowly slowly firmer. she writhes and her boyfriend holds her arms. glad you like it, man, because i am going to ruin her for you, i think. you will never be able to give her this, asshole. i pretend she’s me. i lick up the left side to her clit and then down, roughly up and down, my face wet with her pussy. then i bring my fingers up at last, holding her open lightly and gently like a flower, and then letting my tongue dive in and play. i tease her clit until she whispers, “please.” that sounds so much like me that i give her a break, i find her little clit buried in the wet folds and draw it right into my mouth. i suck it hard. i know i seem hungry, i eat her like i’m starving. i open her up more and more and lick and suck and lick and suck, driving it faster, then slow, then intensely on her clit until she tenses, and then in slow lazy circles around it. then lapping with the flat of my tongue, back to the clit, teasing and sucking and flickering over it.

you with me, your hand on my head, watching and feeling every movement.

her kayaşehir escort head falls on her boyfriends shoulder. i make her wait by drawing back to slow licks in all the secret places. she whimpers, i lick back up that wet pussy all the way to the clit and then slow circles, never speeding up, taking her shaking all the way to the edge and then sucking her clit hard as she almost screams and clutches my hair.

right after she comes i kiss her cunt slowly like it is my lover’s mouth. her boyfriend laughs and pulls her away. she can hardly stand. i wipe my mouth on the inside of my wrist and almost smile.

but there are more. i thought maybe i was done, but you keep me there. another cock in my mouth now, i don’t even know who. it is fast and hard, with the crowd cheering. when did it become a crowd? the come spills onto my breasts as i gag. they laugh. another cock now–the bartender? i am confused. my lips feel like they are bleeding.

another girl now–she’s performing for the men–she grinds her pussy into my face. i try to pull away but you pull my hair hard. i try to please her, please you, i am exhausted, i lick and lick and lick desperately.

right then i hear someone ask you, “can we fuck her?”

you say “no.” calmly, but immediately. and you pull me to my feet.

this changes everything. it is like they can’t wait to get out of there. they leave.

you push me through the ladies room door. i stagger against the counter.

you follow.

i am shaking, falling, waiting. the bathroom is empty. it is smoky, loud, posters on the walls.

i lean on the sink. shaking so hard, i am afraid i’ll vomit if i try to stand. you are close behind me, not touching me. the light is over the sink so it is bright where my face is, but you are a little in shadow. my dress is so short, i am aware it is pulled up in back as i bend over, you can almost see my ass, my dark wet hair, my white thighs. i don’t know where you are looking. i barely know where i am.

“look in the mirror.”

this is terrifying. it is the last thing i want to do. i think i actually cringe. i feel my bare nipples against the linoleum, sticky, filthy. filthy.

you say, “i said look in the mirror–now. look right at your mouth. and tell me what you see.”

you reach out fast and pinch my thigh, hard enough to bruise.

“fucking look, bitch. you know what that mouth did tonight.”

your fingers don’t linger. my head snaps up and i see the cum in my hair before i focus on my mouth.

red, burning red. smeared, ugly. chapped and used. red. dried cum on my face. i involuntarily open my mouth a little, like i am begging for water.

i look at it a long time. someone will come in soon, i don’t know what you want, you are just silent, i am lost, panicking.

at last i watch my lips say, “please . . . ” almost inaudible.

as soon as i say it your hands are on me. you run them up my back, under my dress right away, shoving it up to my waist. they are warm, and move over my skin fast, smoothly, firmly. i break down right away, i start weeping, sobbing. i watch my face crack and redden, the tears pour down my cheeks. they are hot, flooding my face. i can feel suddenly how much you love them, how much you love each tear. how much you want me, how hard it is for you to stay away.

“please what, honey. please what . . . . “

i think i might pass out. i still watch my lips. i say, “fuck me. please. please, give me your cock, please. please, i am begging you. please.” i see the collar in the mirror.

your hands on my ass, my thighs, demanding and strong. you spread me open easily, my thighs open, you pull my hips to you and open your pants, fast. i am afraid someone will come in but it doesn’t matter, can’t matter. i cry out, desperate.

i feel the tip, the sudden thickness, hot, fuck, i feel stretched and broken, the shaft, hot and hard with a smooth thrust like a sword. and again, and again, i am perfectly wet and we are perfectly fit, fucking hell. i vanish into the sensation, your cock is everything, damn, everything. again and again. i lean down and hum around you, i want it deeper, deeper, more more. i moan, “more, more, more.” you give it to me harder than seems possible.

i feel your skill. i feel you giving me everything you have, i feel you chasing my pleasure, wanting it, loving filling me completely. “god,” i cry, everything wet, my face wet. my knuckles white. it is like i can taste your cock in my mouth, it is that deep.

i feel like i am going to come, suddenly, shockingly–you reach to my clit to help me, you use every delicate touch to help me get there fast and hard. just as i start to burn, to let go, to come on your cock, to give you everything, you say, “look at your eyes . . .” and i look at my eyes in the dirty mirror and they are green gold, deep and open.

and everything is in them. they contain the whole world.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

(Before anything I would just like to say that this is my fist posting of a story on any website, so be gentle and lid appreciate constructive criticism. By the way if you are just looking for a fast and furious sex story you can pass on by. It HAS sex but the story defines it.)

Kristi leaves her house, wearing her normal dress of shorts and a t-shirt with sneakers to match. Living by herself for the first time, she is very enthusiastic about her new life away from her parents and their control. Strolling down the block to work she thinks to herself about everything new going on in her life and wears a sunny smile. ‘life is grand,’ is her basic thought line as she goes through her day…far from her parents, working her dream job, and living on her own.

She is a single girl of the age of 24 and while not a virgin, has not really had what she would call “enjoyable” sex; because of this she doesn’t really mind that she is single. Kristi doesn’t truly understand why she doesn’t enjoy sex. She worries about it a bit as her girlfriends always said how much they loved it, but she never got the same enjoyment from it.

Her first day at her job while on her own is spectacular, she successfully completes all her work in a timely fashion and gets finished early enough to take a bit of company time to read her emails and post on her bog.

Weeks go by and her work life only improves…and then one very fateful day a new man is brought into her department from another location, experienced and very well recommended, as he is known to be a computer wiz, as well as being witty and humorous. AND this is where the real story begins….

“May I help you with that miss?” a deep but soft voice invades her thoughts as she sits at her desk. She had just called in a computer error and did not expect anyone to come to her rescue so fast. She turns around to look at the man to speak to him as not to be rude and her voice catches in her throat. Words escape her as her eyes lock onto his deep sapphire orbs. “The director said that you were having computer problems, miss, what seems to be the error?”

Almost as if he has no idea of his affect on her he looks into his eyes, but there is a hint of a sly smile on his lips as he is just as taken by her as she is of him, just more able to control it as he had been admiring her from afar all day. When she finally speaks it is a bit hesitant at first while she takes control of her thoughts “Um, yes…I uh…” she blushes a bit and then regains composure “yes, my computer is glitching, it isn’t saving my files correctly, and adds html formatting to my word processor between strikes of the enter key”. He nods and motions for her to slide back from the desk and when she does he pulls up a chair and starts browsing through the computer files almost oblivious to her presence as he enters his element.

A little mystified, Kristi sits back watching him work and while being a smart girl is thoroughly lost in just a few moments, glad that HE knows what he is doing because she surely doesn’t. Watching in amazement as this man who has captivated her attentions with his demeanor and presence idly fixes the problem that completely escaped her she also takes in the sight of his form, finding it very pleasing and having thoughts about him that she normally does not think. “All done Miss” as he turns around to face her once more, she holds back the blush at her thoughts barely “call me Kristi and thank you.”

“The name is Alex,” he smiles and stands up to go back to his office. She very intensely watches him leave still blushing to herself about the thoughts she thinks. The rest of the day at work goes alibeyköy escort by uneventfully and she heads out walking home as usual.

She does not however notice the man following her and as she walks in her house she feels a hand holding open the door as she is about to close it behind her and completely surprised she turns around to see Alex standing there. Taking a step back with no clue what to do, he takes that opportunity to step the rest of the way into the house, closing the door behind him.

“What are you doing?!” her voice catches in her throat as she feels her pulse hastening in fear and somewhere inside her, excitement as well. He only grins at her as she asks that, hand reaching out to tangle in her hair and she is too shocked to even pull away. Firmly but somehow gently he pulls her to him and kisses her… shocked and amazed at his arrogance and gall she remains frozen for a second before trying to pull away but his grip is way to strong for her…in her mind she is screaming at how wrong this is but she can feel her heat aching for this and her legs getting weak with desire.

As the kiss break he gazes into her eyes and with that final look into his soul she realizes she is lost. Her mind is screaming at her but her body and will now belong to him. His aura so strong and her desire for this so powerful that she knows now why she never enjoyed sex before. She never enjoyed sex before because SHE always held the power in those encounters…she could decide what to do with whom and how often. She now knows that she is his, for better or for worse she belongs now to the first man who has the power, presence, and personality to TAKE her and MAKE her his.

He takes his lips from hers, still holding his fist in her hair and smiles at her “My name may be Alex, but in private I am to be called Master.” she shudders at his words but nods, understanding her ownership. Suddenly his free hand swings around cracking hard on her ass making her jump and tears form in her eyes. “A nod is NOT an answer, pet. Responses are to be verbal and respectful at all times, am I clear?”

“Y-yes M-master.” she stammers the words forming hard in her mouth as she is a liberal youth of a generation where women are raised as equal if not superior to men, or at least as many of the women claim. Clearing her through she sees his eyes still gazing at her and she tries again “Yes Master, I understand”. His smile makes her heart flutter, not understanding how she can be so happy that her words pleased him, but basking in the glow despite not understanding it. He leans in for another kiss and this time she presses against him willingly offering herself completely to him now as his property, her desire to please him overtaking all the hesitancy she had before. In her heart and soul she is now owned.

Their lips press tightly together as he pushes her back, making her almost stumble as he continues to push her backwards till they leave the entrance way to her house and she feels her calves hit the edge of her couch, only his grip in her hair keeps her from falling, and that does so in a very painful manner. His hand gracefully glides up her body to the neckline of her blouse and with a sudden jerk of his arm the cloth is ripped from her body, torn off her and tossed aside revealing her firm C-cup bra covered breasts and causing her to gasp with a sudden intake of breathe at his rough disrobing of her.

Standing there in her underwear and skirt her eyes wide and her chest heaving face flushed and pulse racing…no idea what is to happen next as this is new territory sefaköy escort for her. His grin wicked and yet not hiding the caring inside him while his hand finds the waistline of her skirt. Having more of a hint at this point she braces herself for the sudden motion that is his hand ripping her skirt off her turning her $50 skirt into a worthless rag with one motion and not caring in the very least, the cost of her clothes more then worth the feelings carousing through her body. Her panties wet, visibly so now that her over garments are stripped of her. More wet then she has ever been before and slightly embarrassed in front of her new master at this display of need.

His actions displaying his mood more then the few words he speaks, she ache for any sound of his voice and he knows it. Each word spoken kindly to her sending ripples of pleasure through her body. “Very good, pet. You are even more delightful than I expected you to be.” his words kind and yet at the same time with the inflection of steel that makes her knees weak with desire, knowing that he is kind because he chooses to be and therefore because she is pleasing him.

Standing there arms at her side breathing heavily as he surveys his property and then slowly removing his garments looking her in the eyes as he does. She stays frozen not sure what to do and as he strips and tosses away his cloths she sees his naked body in front of her and is taken aback at how muscular it is…hidden from view normally by the plain clothes, this Master that she belongs to easily has the muscles to force her to do anything he wants despite any struggles she can make.

Leaning towards her he speaks with that arousing deep and rumbling voice directly into her ear “you have permission to pleasure me, pet. And depending on how well you do it I may be inclined or not to allow you to be pleasured as well” his words driving into her soul she knows what she needs to do without a specific command and slides to her knees lightly on her carpet staring at his arousal and the graceful curve it has in its throbbing manliness. One hand wrapping around the base as she tries to remember how she was taught to do this, as it was a skill she never really practiced often. Her tongue slides out to taste his head as her hand slowly starts to stroke him, encouraged by the sound of a light growl of pleasure coming from above.

Her lips open to surround the crown of his glory as she start to suckle on it, realizing how much she is enjoying the taste of her Master despite having avoided oral sex in the past. The sweat and salty suggestions of pre-cum mixing in her mouth to create an aphrodisiac for her. Small hand gripping the thick manhood of the one who owns her sliding along the length of it as she slides a bit more into her mouth. A small mouth that is very inexperienced at fellatio but with her desire to pleasure him evident in her suction and motion of her hand, despite that she cant take much of his length into her mouth yet his growls of pleasure increase and are mixed with the occasional groan that tells her that she is doing a good job.

She inhales the scent from him as she attempts to feed on his pleasure. Soft sucking lips sliding along the flesh of the gift she so hungers for. Her own moans starting to vibrate unconsciously from her lips along his length just from the sheer pleasure that she is experiencing at this act of submission to the one who was willing and able to take her. The presence still overwhelming her as her hunger for him grows exponentially with each passing moment. The vibrations she so unknowingly halkalı escort emanates from her lips sending tingles of pleasure through him as well, feeling her need and desire to please him and intensely enjoying her inexperienced and yet very talented oral capabilities.

Salivating over the sweaty pre-cum flavored cock her master so kindly is feeding her, her taste buds start going wild causing her to ache for more and for the first time wanting to drink from any mans dick. For the first time wanting to swallow the load that she has earned by suckling so hungrily on a mans cock. Her mind focusing more and more on the sexuality and desire to be used and to give her master everything he wants. Her inner sexual creature awakening inside her as she begs with her lips for him to feed her, causing his eyes to widen suddenly at the sudden change in her behavior. Feeling her suction change from strong desire to please to complete hunger for his seed.

His hands once more find her hair, but this time out of a need to grip from the sheer pleasure being given to him, and she feels his fingers tangle in her tresses loving that feel knowing its her master knowing that this is where she belongs and that his hands are for her and her alone. Moaning and groaning on his length as she tries to take as much into her mouth and down her throat as she can, ignoring the gagging sensations out of complete ferocity of desire. She can feel his strain to hold back as she takes every inch she can into her throat, not able to take in more then half but that being much more then she was taking before and her lips tongue and throat all working in conjunction with each other to coax the much craved cum from his cock.

His grunts sounding from his throat as he finally releases into her mouth, growling loudly as his hips buck and his cock spasms in her mouth, spraying his hot load down her throat for the first blast and then she pulls her mouth away just enough to that the head is in her mouth flowing seed over her tongue and blasting the roof of her mouth as her hand pumps fast and hard on the length to pump the seed into her mouth wanting to taste the cum, to feel it slipping on her tongue, to get the whole experience of having a huge load of cum filling her mouth before swallowing it. Aching for more she sucks hard to get every drop as her tight first wraps and pumps the semen into her mouth, not spilling a drop out of a total sheer voracious hunger for every drop she can get.

His release halting and the flow stemming off finally and she suckles more on the softening cock until he pulls her head away by her hair, looking up at him through her lashes as she naughtily opens her mouth to show her master the cum in her mouth, coating her mouth and over her tongue and her tongue playing in the slimy cum in her mouth. He chuckles at this sight, seeing how this nice girl finally showed her true slut self for him, the only one that she will ever show that side to. His warm chuckle resounding through her head as she moans with delight at his pleasure and blushes at his amusement. Closing her mouth, still looking her master in the eye she visibly and audibly swallow the load given to her savoring the feeling as it slide down her throat and into her tummy.

“You are a good girl, my pet. You please me very much,” his words make her want to pass out from sheer pleasure. She is HIS and belongs to him so completely that her every thought now revolves around his pleasure. He pulls her up gently by her hair to kiss her cummy mouth softly and gently an she wonders at the sensations rolling through her body at this sensual sharing kiss that makes her very soul quiver in delight…she presses against him and his arms wrap around him as she herself is enclosed in his arms. As the kiss breaks she feels her eyelids grow too heavy to keep open and her mind swirls…and everything fades to black. Her consciousness slipping from her, but not minding as she is safe in her Masters arms and care.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Chapter 15: Allessandro Fernasse

It’s the middle of the night before La Contessa’s gondola weaves its way through the torch-lit canals back to her palace. I’m exhausted, and I’ve only been an observer. Becky, the slave girl, must be aching all over after the attention she’s received. Yet, I know from my own experience of La Contessa’s domination that this extreme fatigue produces a euphoric feeling. She did well, and La Contessa is delighted with her performance, commenting on how good it is to have a girl slave who truly understands the meaning of submission. I can’t wait to relate the exploits to Julia, as I usually describe the scenes La Contessa creates to her in great detail… and there’s plenty to tell her about the night!

But it’s a few days later when we get a chance to meet up. She comes to my room to inform me La Contessa will need me in her private sitting room later in the day. I’m ready to tell Julia about the torture of the Syrian merchant, and Il Padrino, but she’s in an uncharacteristically strange mood. At the mere mention of Becky, she fires back an acerbic response.

“Yes, it’s all I’ve heard from my mistress over the last couple of days. How perfectly submissive Becky is, how well she took her punishment, how lovely she is. I’m sick of hearing about her. And did you enjoy fucking her, Roberto?”

I pause to let the last comment sink in. Surely it must be a misunderstanding?

“But Julia, I only assisted La Contessa. I never joined in any of the play, and I never fucked Becky.”

“That’s not what La Contessa says. She’s described in graphic detail how she let you take Becky whilst she was tied onto the rack, and the pleasure you got from it.”

I’m confused now, and I can only think La Contessa is playing a game with Julia.

“I promise you, Julia. I didn’t fuck the girl. Your mistress is messing with you. You’ve said yourself how manipulative she can be.”

This remark causes her to reflect and temper her rage.

“Well, I don’t know what to think,” she mumbles.

“I didn’t, but besides,” I add, “if mistress ordered me to fuck her, I would have. You know that, Julia, it’s what I’m here for. I’d have carried out her instructions to the letter. You explained this from the start.”

“Yes, yes. I know, you’re right Roberto. It’s just that… since she’s come to the palazzo all I hear about from La Contessa is her slave girl. She’s so beautiful, she’s so lovely… she’s never called me these things in all my years of service. Do you think Becky’s so pretty?”

I grasp Julia by the shoulders. I choose my words carefully.

“Yes, she may be Julia. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t attractive. But that’s not the point. She’s not as beautiful as you Julia and, believe me, I feel nothing for her. She’s La Contessa’s slave girl. Nothing more. And do you really expect La Contessa to praise you all the time. After all, Julia, you’re her maid.”

As soon as the words spill out, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. I see tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m only a maid am I? You think that’s all I am to her?”

Shit. I don’t know how to respond. The honest answer, harsh as it may be, is yes. Whatever rapport they may have built up over the years, Julia’s role will always be to serve La Contessa. What else can I say? I’ve seen the intimacy of the relationship she has with her mistress at first hand, but it’s still one of mistress and servant… what more can Julia expect from it? What strikes me about this exchange is how jealous Julia is of Becky. Her presence seems to have exposed Julia’s doubts… about her relationship with La Contessa, about me, and about her place in the household. I take her into my arms and console her.

“I can’t guess why La Contessa wants to give the impression there might be something between me and Becky, but I promise you it’s not true. I love you, Julia. Becky means nothing to me. I want you and wish you had time to stay with me now so we can make love.”

I pull out a handkerchief and gently wipe the tears from Julia’s eyes.

“Yes, I know you’re right. I know my mistress plays mind games with people, but she’s never done it with me before, not in such a hurtful way. It’s upset me that she would treat me that way.”

“Well, I know it’s no consolation, but she treats everybody else the same,” I say trying to make light of it. “Perhaps you shouldn’t take it too much to heart, Julia.”

“Anyway, I’ve got to be going. We’ll meet up as soon as I can. And don’t forget, madam’s sitting room at 4pm. And naked, naturally!”

I have a few domestic chores to complete and the rest of the day goes quickly until I have to make my rendezvous with La Contessa. I knock on the door, and she invites me to enter.

I take in the scene before me. Given my recent conversation, the first thing to strike me is the presence of both Julia and Becky, the latter standing with her arms behind her back next to the chair where La Contessa sits. She’s dressed plainly and modestly in a simple knee length cotton chemise buttoned bayrampaşa escort all the way down the front with a leather belt around her waist. Well, I say modestly. You can see the outline of her nipples protruding from the material. She looks every bit the obedient submissive. She does, it must be said, look lovely. With each week serving at the palazzo she looks more and more ravishing. Her hair, a natural and striking blonde, so distinctive to see in Venice, is thick and rich. She has put on a bit of weight since being rescued from the hands of the Syrian merchant, but it’s no bad thing as it’s enhanced the voluptuousness of her curves. Julia, looking pensive, is serving La Contessa and her guest coffee from a silver pot engraved with naked nymphs.

La Contessa gestures for me to take up a position at the opposite side of her from Becky.

She’s dressed formally, in her wig, a rich embroidered gown, and as much make-up as I’ve seen her wear. She’s dressed to impress, and when I see her guest, I understand why. His gown is grand, its hood lined with ermine. But it’s the cane, capped with a silver winged lion, which provides the vital clue for me. Nobody would openly carry such an iconic symbol if they were not part of Venice’s ruling elite. The ensuing conversation confirms my suspicions.

“May I speak frankly to you, Contessa?”

“Yes, these are my servants. I trust them not to allow any report of our conversation to go beyond this room. They know the severity of the punishment if they do.”

“This is a delicate matter, Contessa. As you know the trade through Venice of late has declined, and the Doge and Council of Ten are, let me be frank, in straightened circumstances.”

“Allessandro Fernasse, I’m perfectly aware the interest on my loans to the Doge is due for payment in a matter of days. No doubt you’ve been sent here to crawl on behalf of the Council of Ten to renegotiate the interest payments. And, knowing the perverse lecher you are, I don’t doubt you’d also like to avail yourself of the entertainments I offer. You will see I have acquired a new slave and slave girl since you were last here. The girl is especially delicious don’t you think… and very willing.”

The corpulent representative of the Council of Ten squirms uncomfortably in his seat, sweat dripping from his forehead. I’m intrigued by this exchange. It explains a lot. Venice is a place where money rules. This must be the hold La Contessa has over the ruling elite of the city, making her untouchable in whatever she does.

“Yes, Contessa, on behalf of the Council I’m here to ask for a rescheduling of our debts.”

La Contessa raises an eyebrow, “Ask? You mean beg, surely.”

“Well, to discuss what mutually beneficial arrangements we might come to,” splutters Fernasse.

“Ha! You mean beg. And yes, I will make you beg! Get out of the chair onto your knees and crawl towards me.”

“But, Contessa, is it your intention to humiliate me?”

“Yes, indeed it is. Do as I say and get on your knees or there will be no negotiation. I will simply insist on the repayment of my loan. You know the consequences.”

Offered no alternative, Fernasse heaves his body out of the chair and gets down on his knees. He crawls the short distance to where La Contessa sits, her hand outstretched ready for him. He takes it in his hand and kisses it. There is a pause.

“Yes?” prompts La Contessa.

“Contessa, I beg you on behalf of the Doge and the Council of Ten to extend the period of your loan to the city for six months. We are expecting a fleet of merchant ships to arrive from the Far East by then with goods we can trade. I beg you to grant us this favour.”

“That’s better. And tell the Doge, next time he wants to reschedule his debts, he must come himself, and I will make him get down on his knees and crawl. I am minded to agree to an extension but I do have further conditions; a few trifles to satisfy my whims.”

“Yes, Contessa; let me know what they are. I’m confident we will be able to accommodate them,” said Fernasse, still on his knees.

“The first stipulation is that, on the final day of Carnevale, I will expect my barge to lead the procession along the Grand Canal, and for the ball to be held in my palazzo.”

“Why yes, Contessa, we would be honoured for you to host the Carnevale’s masked ball,” he says, relieved at the relative modesty of the request.

“Then there is the question of the travelling theatre troupe, the Gelossi. Their plays are lewd, and they have a rather good line in political satire too. They amuse me, and it would give me great pleasure to see their work performed in Venice. It appears they are having difficulties obtaining a licence. I trust this is a matter you can smooth over for them.”

“Well, possibly Contessa.” Fernasse replies with obvious discomfort. “Though the Doge may object to this stipulation as this theatre troupe are known for their bitter attacks on him and the Council of Ten. Their satire fulya escort ferments discontent in the city.”

La Contessa’s eyes flash with anger. She leans down and lifts Fernasse’s chin up with her finger so she can stare, unflinching, into his eyes. He tries to avert her gaze, but she grips his chin in her hand.

“So, Allessandro, are you not entrusted to negotiate on the Doge’s behalf?”

“Yes, madam.”

“Is it not clear to you what will happen if you do not accede? It amuses me that this theatre troupe ridicules the rulers of Venice, and I will have my way. I am sure you understand.”

“Yes, Contessa.”

“So, I can take it the matter is settled then.”

“Yes, Contessa.”

“There is one last tiny thing,” she says releasing his face from her grip.

Fernasse’s body slumps; what next, he must be thinking.

“I am holding a piece of theatre, a puppet show, and it would please me if the Council of Ten attend. I am sure they will find it amusing.”

“Yes, we would be honoured to attend such an entertainment.”

“In particular, I want the Archbishop to attend.”

“The Archbishop? Can I ask the nature of this puppet show? Will it be of sexually perverse nature?”

La Contessa waves her hand, “I have a reputation to maintain Allessandro.”

“You know only too well how many of us enjoy Contessa’s soirees, but the Archbishop is very pious… and may be offended at the activities on display.”

“Yes indeed, pious… and a hypocrite. Does the church not benefit from the generosity of my loans?”

“Yes, madam, of course it does.”

“Then it should be an easy matter for you to convince the Archbishop it is in his, and the city’s, interests to indulge my whims, should it not?”

“Yes Contessa, I’m sure I can persuade him to attend.”

“Excellent. So, our business is concluded then. I will have my procurator draw up the agreement to extend the period of interest on my loan.”

She holds her hand out, and the deal is sealed with a kiss.

Allessandro Fernasse is effusive in his thanks, “Thank you, Contessa. We will forever be indebted to you for your fair mindedness and generosity to us.”

I’m fascinated by this exchange. It explains the power La Contessa holds over the rulers of Venice. I can’t help but smile inwardly at the manner in which my mistress controlled the meeting. She played with him, humiliated him, and manipulated him. Her conditions are designed to show off her prestige and influence whilst insulting the Doge and the ruling elite. I gaze on in admiration at the domineering qualities displayed by my mistress in the exchange.

“So, now our business is concluded, I expect you want to avail yourself of some sexual pleasure whilst you are here.”

“Yes, madam, you know how much enjoyment I derive from your entertainments.”

Now he has concluded the business part of the meeting, his eyes twinkle with expectation. I imagine that, despite the humiliations he has been subjected to, he willingly volunteered for the task, knowing he might be invited to take part in some sexual debauchery.

La Contessa invites Fernasse to take his seat with a flourish of her hand, so he gets up from his knees and nestles his vast backside into the plush velvet of the chair. His heart is racing in anticipation at what my mistress might be planning for him.

“Let me introduce you to my new slave girl,” says La Contessa, taking her hand and leading her to stand in front of Fernasse. “I rescued her from the clutches of a cruel master and brought her to my palazzo. She’s beautiful, is she not?”

“Yes, Contessa, she’s lovely,” he gasps.

I can tell he wants her. I see the lust in his eyes. I hear his little brain whirring as he sits there imagining the filthy things he could do with her.

“And she’s submissive and willing… she’ll do anything I ask, won’t you girl?”

“Yes, mistress. I serve you in everything, mistress,” Becky responds.

“Yes, of course you do, my dear. My guest looks rather hot and bothered. Perhaps you should relieve him of his clothes.”

Becky steps forward in front of the chair. Fernasse breathes heavily at the presence of the girl as she stands close to him, drawing in her exotic scent as she divests him of his fur-lined gown. Becky passes it to Julia, who takes the robe nervously, folds it up, and places it carefully on a table. She’s waiting anxiously to see how this play will unfold, no doubt wondering what my role in it will be.

Becky gets down onto her knees. She loosens the cords around his flabby waistline. Fernasse instinctively lifts his arse up enough to allow her to pull his breeches and knickerbockers down until they are wrapped around his ankles. His already erect penis jumps into the air as soon as it’s released. Becky looks at it with curiosity, as if she’s never seen a man’s cock before, and runs her fingers along its taut flesh. Fernasse groans with pleasure at her touch.

Becky gets to her feet again. yenibosna escort She stands directly in front of him, her crotch at eye level. Sensuously she unbuckles the leather belt, pulls it from her waist, and allows it to drop to the floor. Her chemise hangs loosely around her, the candlelight silhouetting her curves through the thin cotton. She unbuttons the shirt as Fernasse looks on open-mouthed. Button by button the material parts slightly to offer a glimpse of the soft lines of her cleavage. He fidgets in his seat, mesmerised by her seductive performance. More buttons are unfastened until the bush of her pubic hair is exposed, and when all the buttons are undone Becky pulls the chemise apart to reveal her sexy body. Fernasse’s cock involuntarily twitches with need. He reaches his hands out to grasp her fleshy breasts in his fingers.

Before he can touch, his hands are met with the sharp snap of a flogger. He recoils in pain. He looks to one side to see La Contessa with the implement of punishment in her hands.

“No Allessandro, you are not allowed to touch.”

“Please Contessa, let me take her breasts in my hands,” he pleads.

“No, you can only watch. Sit there and gaze upon what you can never have. She is my special girl, my very own. Do you think I will see her fouled by your grubby, fat mitts?”

“Oh, but please Madam, let me touch her, let me have her,” his voice desperate with desire.

“Since it’s clear you are unable to control your lusts, I will have to take further measures to ensure my girl is not corrupted by your filthy fingers… and filthier mind.”

She gestures to bring her coils of rope from a nearby table. Quickly, with an effortless speed and before Fernasse can protest or resist, La Contessa pulls his arms behind the chair and ties his wrists together. She takes his cock in her hand, wraps her fist around it and squeezes so hard I can see it brings a tear to Fernasse’s eyes.

“There,” she smiles, “all you can do now is enjoy the show. You can’t even masturbate. You have to sit there whilst my slave girl taunts you with her sexuality.”

“You are so cruel, madam,” he gasps.

But secretly he’s enjoying every minute of this display. There’s no doubt he loves being tormented by the girl, and her mistress.

Becky removes the shirt from her shoulders. She runs her fingers along the pale flesh, squeezing the pair of orbs together. She holds the nipples of one breast between two fingers and squeezes, expelling a squeak from her lips… whether from self-inflicted pain or pleasure it’s hard to say. Finally, she lets the chemise slide from her body until she stands in front of Fernasse, entirely naked.

He emits a groan of appreciation.

“She’s lovely isn’t she?”

“Yes madam, she is.”

“And she’s mine… all mine, aren’t you girl?”

“Yes mistress, I submit myself to you and your desires… completely,” she replies softly.

“You will never have her,” La Contessa taunts, “never be allowed to touch her. You can only sit there and admire her feminine beauty. You will be tormented by what you can never have. And when you get back to your palazzo, you think you’ll go straight to your chambers and wank yourself off.”

“Yes, madam.”

“I even permit my male slaves to play with her,” she says, gesturing with a nod for me to approach Becky.

Oh, oh, I don’t like the sound of this. Julia watches proceedings from across the room, silently seeing how the scene develops. I cast a glance over at her, see her eyes widen, and a face like thunder. She does not look pleased. But I have to obey of course. I’ve pledged my service to La Contessa. I have to carry on regardless of Julia’s feelings.

La Contessa leans forward and whispers in my ear, “Touch her, run your hands over her. Kiss her. Bury your face in her crotch. Arouse her. Make her wet for me. You have your mistress’s permission.”

La Contessa has set me a task I can relish. Is there any way I can hold back to show my loyalty to Julia? Not really, my mistress’s directions are clear. And I understand the game she’s playing. I appreciate the nature of the torment she wants to inflict on Fernasse. She wants me to do the things he would love to do to the girl, but which La Contessa will never allow. I enter into the role with enthusiasm, much to Julia’s disgust.

I start by standing behind her, pressing my bare flesh against hers and nuzzling her neck and shoulders as I wrap my arms around her chest and fondle her breasts. Fernasse, his wrists still tied behind the chair, is in paroxysms of frustration. I plant kisses on her sweetly scented flesh, I take her nipples in my lips, and roll my tongue around them. I have her turn around and bend over so her beautiful arse is sticking up in the air, then get down on my knees to lick her. He squirms in his chair, his cock still standing erect, desperate for release. I kiss her thighs and bury my face in her bush. I seek out her bud with my tongue.

La Contessa taunts him, “You see, even my slave can touch her, even my slave has access to her most intimate orifices. Yet you are denied.”

“Please madam, release me. Let me touch her. Please, I beg you.”

“No. No, she is not for you. She is my special slave girl. She is beyond your reach, and always will be. What a shame, my loveliest toy, and you will never get the chance to play with her.”

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The control. Giving up the control. I miss that. Letting you be the one to say move. See. Taste. Fuck. Cum. Now. Cum now you dirty slut.

How did it begin? I blame the internet. Late nights alone in the computer lab. I found online kink and thought “What? There are others like me?”

We all shared stories. We shared ideas. We got each other hot and aroused. Then we went off, Alone. Until you.

You.

You were different.

A couple of sentences and I knew. Something made me call you. Then visit.

That first time.

I’d had sex, I’d been fucked. This was different. This was what I wanted. This was what I had wanted, needed. This is what I had dreamt about since the first time my hand reached down between my legs. I was not alone.

The first was I came over was to see if we had chemistry in person. Awkward at first. We got take-out. Noodles. Chatted. Laughed. Hours. Had some wine to lighten the mood. It can be much harder in person to admit your darker side.

You had experience. I had none. There were rules. Rules? We had to lay down rules so nobody got hurt. I thought getting hurt was the point. Not quite that way, we cannot have anyone getting too hurt. I did not even know where to begin. I just wanted to let you own me. Take my body and fuck it, and suck it, and twist it, and turn it, and pinch it and burn it, and slam into it, and, and, and fill it, and empty it until I was gone. Until that ache was met. Until I was numb.

Rules first. No rape. No scars. Ok. Those sounded good. beykent escort Umm…

Can I piss on you? Feed you my shit? Puke?

OK, my list just got longer. Nope, don’t think that is my thing.

Ok, I think we need to slow this down. I had no idea. This is why there are rules.

I begin to understand.

I thought this was going to be simple. We had chatted online for hours, weeks. Finally a phone call, two, ten. Scheduling them late at night, certain I would be alone. Innocent conversation turning into lurid step by step guides. Promises of nothing until the next call. Promises of quick calls in the afternoon. Slipping into a restroom, slipping a finger into my pussy making sure I was wet. I was your naughty slut. I was your daytime librarian. Constant state of arousal. If the call was missed, if the finger was dry, punishment was promised.

Finally, we could meet. I begged. Pleaded. You needed me to wait until exams were over. I did. I made it through those fucking exams. Then we could meet. You were the smart one. You knew I would be gone as soon as I crossed your threshold.

Now we are here. I am learning the rules. I am seeing there are layers here.

For this you had told me what to wear. Long black skirt. Tall black boots. Thigh-Hi tights. Black shirt. Black bra. No makeup. Take a shower first. I was ready. I was out the door and on my way. That was the longest ride. Green line. Red line. A blur. Checking street names. Walking. Steps gaziosmanpaşa escort slowing. Heart racing. Two blocks up this way. Turn right. Then three blocks. First house. Go through gate. Ring bottom doorbell. Such clear instructions. Before I have entirely collected my thoughts the doorbell rings and I am making this list. This fucking list. Is fucking on the list?

The first night passes with talking, instruction. I need to learn. This needs to be safe, for both of us. There is chemistry. Chemistry you can taste in the air. How was this going to begin? After pancakes but before lunch? Have a bologna sandwich and then get down on all fours? You had only said you were in control. You were in charge. You would handle things. You knew when the time was right.

Finally it was time. You took my hand, and said those words, those words that would change everything about me, “Now I am in charge.” You led me to the room. The room where everything would happen. Where so many things would happen. As we approached the doorway you asked if I was sure, I nodded my head, you said “Say it.” I said I was sure and you handed me the collar. My first. I was yours. We walked into the room.

I remember wanting to run, throw up, fuck, eat, get a glass of water, and stop everything. How strange. I figured it would start with some kisses. Then you would ask me to suck your cock, I’d be bad and you’d spank me. I had read some books. I had chatted online. I could not have been more ortaköy escort wrong.

I followed you across the room. “You fucking dirty slut.” Slap. That first slap I will never forget. I almost came at once. You know how there can be defining moments in your life? My head rocked back. You grabbed both my hands into yours spun me around lifting my hands over my head and attaching them to something.

My hands were attached over head. You grabbed my skirt. Down. Shirt Ripped. Naked.

Now staring. Staring. Watching Waiting. An eternity. I see a wall. I feel your eyes. I have been waiting so long for this. Wet with anticipation. Fear.

You finally walk up behind me. Cup my breasts. Stroke nipples with your thumbs. Pinch. Harder. Pulling. “all mine” you say. One hand keeps stroking the hand starts sliding down. Finally reaching my mound. You place your palm over my whole vagina. Lightly touching. I moan.

You stroke the inside of my thighs. Up. You move to my lips as your other hand clamps down on a nipple. Your finger plunges in. Quickly your finger moves in and out as I strain to move with you. Finally your other hand moves down and rubs my clit. You tell me to cum for you. Within seconds I feel it building up inside. I need the release. “Cum my dirty slut” you whisper against my ear. As your finger moves faster and faster inside my pussy, your other hand circling and rubbing my clit I finally cum. Growling as I do.

You walk away. Leave me hanging there. “You will do just fine.”

As I stand there. Dripping. Lesson one. Pain. Slap. Hand on ass. “You came. Now punishment. Then come again.”

Routine is set. Then you need pain to come. Simple really. Training. Rewire the brain.

Slap. Slap. 20 slaps. My ass is red. sore. I will remember. Then you grab the vibrator. I come hard and fast. You undo the chains. Lay me down. Sponge me off. I sleep.

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This is part 2 in a 3 part series If you’ve not read part one I suggest you go back and read it first then part 2

From part one:

I feel you fill me with your hot cum and I moan that “I’m almost there” “don’t stop”” Harder” The pleasure is so much more than I could have expected. I reach the peak of my climax “I’m cummming” I scream out as my body begins to cascade over the edge. The sweat is now pouring off both of us as we collapse on the bed. Lying there we drift off to sleep but only for a very short nap.

I awaken a time later I really can’t say how long though. The sun is shinning through the window, which is now open to allow the warm breeze to tickle my flesh. In an almost teasing way the breeze dances across my nipples bringing them to hard nubs and arousing my senses. I begin to attempt to roll over so I can cover up with the sheet and realize my hands have been tied to the bedposts. And the sheet has been removed from the bed. I’m tied both hands and feet I realize shortly and can’t move except for my body from side to side. I begin to feel fear as I realize a total stranger has me tied to my very own bed and I’m helpless to do anything about it.

Struggling against my bonds trying to no avail to dislodge them from my limbs, but you’re good, You’ve made sure I can’t get away. Fear once again rains its self down on me and I begin to tremble. About that time I realize in total embarrassment your sitting in a chair you’ve pulled up to the foot of the bed. A smile plays across your lips as you look straight into my sex. I know you can see how wet I’m getting from this even if I’m scared I can’t help the feelings of pleasure emitting from my cunt.

You look up to my eyes and mouth “trust me” and smile that warm smile, that has my head and body at war as to what I should do. My body soon wins and I nod “yes” and your smile widens to encompass your entire face. Soothing words come from your mouth but for the life of me I can’t remember one of them because at the same time your fingers have found my clit and I’m now so close to orgasm hadımköy escort I’m sure I’ll explode if I don’t get release soon.

I feel your fingers leave me, a feeling of emptiness is left in their place and I begin to beg you not to stop. Seconds pass and I am now writhing against my bonds trying to get my hands free so I can complete the task you’ve left undone. You move to the bed beside me and run your fingers up my torso to my lips and slip your fingers in, allowing me to taste myself. I suckle as if it’s your cock and I see the evidence of my work as your cock rises and grows harder. Your other hand slowly traces down to my already hard erect nipples playing there till a moan escapes my lips. You reach behind you and draw out of a bag, a pair of nipple clamps and I squirm as I realize just what you intend to do.

“Please” I moan “I’ve never had those on before”

Again the only words I hear are

“trust me”

As you place the first one over my hard bud and apply the clamp. My moans now I can’t tell if their pleasure or pain as they both become one. While my mind is on the first one I feel the second one placed on the other nipple and clamped down. The tingling feelings now going straight to my pussy from my nipples as if their connected in some way. I close my eyes trying to over come the pain and I feel you rise from the bed.

I hear a chuckle coming from the foot of the bed and know its you enjoying the torment my body is in. I feel your hands on my ankles as they are released from their ties only to be held tightly to the bed to keep me from pulling them away. You cross my legs and retie them to the opposite posts and turn to my hands releasing them one at a time re tying them so I’m now on my stomach. My ass exposed to the cooling breeze coming in the window. Stepping back to admire your handy work you just stand there seemingly thinking about your next move. I find out shortly that was not the case you’ve had this planned ever since I sent you the photos of my bed. haramidere escort A fantasy you’re now living through. One you hadn’t discussed with me however I had told you of mine. You knew I had a fantasy of being taken while tied so I couldn’t resist.

From the corner of my eye I see an assortment of toys laid out on the dresser within reach of your hands. The things I see elicit fear and excitement both at the same time from my now tense body. Some of the toys I have used on myself before some even have had used on me before and still more I’ve never seen. It was those I had never seen that brought the most fear and excitement. Some of those things laid out I couldn’t dream of how you would use them. I feel the juices running down my legs from my now soaking wet pussy. This again embarrasses me, as I know you can tell how excited I am. Only a slut would become this aroused from the treatment I’m receiving at your hand.

I feel your hand warm against the chilled skin of my ass teasing the flesh with soft strokes. Without warning “Crack” you’re hand comes down meeting my flesh. You raise your hand again only to repeat the process on the other cheek. Taking a moment to admire the colorful pink skin now wearing proudly the full imprint of your hand.

Drawing your finger along the edges of the imprint brings another moan from my lips. And your finger keeps moving down to find the moist juncture of my legs.

“I believe my slut is enjoying this”

You whisper into my ear, as you place a blindfold over my eyes.

“I want you to feel rather than see”

You whisper again in my ear,

“the feelings will be so much more intense”

“trust me”

I feel your hands both on my ass one on each side one tracing the redness one just resting there. All the sudden the resting hand raises as the other continues to trace.

“Smack” down on my ass then the other is resting as the first is tracing. “Smack” tracing and resting then “smack”, this cycle continues till atakent escort the pleasure and pain is one in the same. A moan escapes my lips.

“I want…”

“What is it you want?”

You ask as you continue the assault to my rear. The warmth is spreading now all the way to my so wet pussy as I realize just how erotic this is.

“I need…”

I moan out as I feel your finger tracing the path down my crack to the hot wet tunnel that needs attention so bad.

“Yes”

I scream as you plunge your finger in causing me to push back in an attempt to get your finger in deeper.

“Smack” another resounding slap to my ass

“still”

You say as you withdraw the one thing that may have given me the relief I need. Your finger returns to plunder my hole I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips as you bring me so close to the edge just to back off again.

I feel your breath on the lips of my pussy and wish so bad I could get your mouth closer. I know not to move unless I want another reprimand, I’m still as I can be under the circumstances.

Trying hard to focus on the finger in me. I feel the first thrust of your tongue on my clit it’s almost more than I can bear. I can’t help but move I’m sure. Trying hard not to but knowing full well that as I get closer and closer to climax I won’t be able to control my body.

“Please Fuck me I’m begging”

As your tongue dances across my clit.

“All in due time my sweet”

“In due time”

I feel you rise from the bed and your gone for what seems like hours but was only minutes I’m sure. Then your hands are on me again. This times your holding something. I can’t tell what it is only that is both soft and stiff. You aim it at my open cunt and start to push it in slowly at first then pushing it all the way in. I’m moaning incoherently now words seem to from in my brain but can’t quite make it to my mouth.

“Please let me Cum”

“Please… I need to so badly” “Cum for me my sweet”

You say as the first flood of my orgasm sweeps through my body. Sweat combined with my juices flow off me down my legs in a torrent of ecstasy, I couldn’t describe if I had to. My body still convulsing from the orgasm your are now talking softly in my ear,

“Rest my sweet, we’ve only just begun”

If you like this story let me know so I can start writing the third and final part.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s Note:

This is NOT the kind of Part 2 that is designed to stand alone. You will be very lost without having read Part 1.

I had an outline of things I wanted to describe in Part 2, as well as some general guidelines for how I want the next sections to unfold. However, in putting Part 2 together, it ended up somewhat shifting into two episodes. It’s still the events I wanted to have as the second instillation, but… well, you’ll see. I think of them as parts 2 and 2.5. I think it’s worth mentioning because it may impact how people space out reading this.

As before, I love feedback. Thanks a lot to all the people who have reached out to me so far. I’m very much trying to figure out what works and what doesn’t in my writing. It’s hard to know unless people tell me.

EDIT April 16, 2019: Edits and helpful guidance provided by EGRI.

*

Malcolm had to leave early the next morning to get back across the city to an office hours review session for Cyber Security Compliance. It was sweet, the way he eased himself out of bed, trying not to disturb me, and attempted to dress without turning the lights on. But I work out early anyway and I wasn’t about to let him sneak away without saying goodbye, so I hugged him from behind and made a show of feeling up his chest while “helping” him with his buttons.

Malcolm yawned mightily. He’s useless until he’s got some caffeine in him. Mumbling a farewell and intention to see me online later, he rushed out the door without realizing I’d hidden his tie under my pillow. I had plans for that tie.

But first, leg day. Everybody moans about leg day, like they’d rather be banging their heads against a wall. Those are the people destined to walk around with flat asses forever. It’s easily my favorite workout.

Half of it is for the looks. The looks from all the gym rats and muscle monsters who see me pull up to the squat rack and assume that they’re going to have to waste their time waiting for me and my bitch weights. Then they notice my ass. Purely lecherously at first, but slowly taking in my glutes and quads as I load up the bar. I imagine them thinking “all right, maybe this chick can actually lift.” Then, when I start getting into it, with full downward motion and perfect form despite my height, those maybe-s turn to definitely-s. That transition is what does it for me. The little nods of respect from people who started out looking down on me.

The other half is personal satisfaction. There’s nobody in the world I’m more competitive with than myself. I love seeing the weights on the bar in the mirror as I squat down and lift them up again. I love feeling my muscles strain as I work myself, just a little bit harder than last week. I love the feeling of lightness that comes, despite the exhaustion, right after racking the bar. It’s exhilarating! I spend most of my professional life writing code or analyzing data sets on a computer screen. Being able to really use my muscles, sweat buckets and feel my heart thud hard inside me makes me feel deliciously alive.

As I went through the familiar routine of circling the gym floor to hit each muscle of my legs, visions of last night played over in my head. It had all happened so fast! Malcolm had arrived last night as my best friend and left this morning as my… lover? Boyfriend? Dom? Still best friend but also those other three? Fuck labels, it had been fantastic and I wanted more.

Had I really been nervous about it? About asking him, about performing as a submissive, about facing down rejection? I grinned at myself in the mirror, remembering. Of course I had been, but it had all gone so well that it was hard to even imagine feeling anything negative.

It took all of two minutes to walk home from the gym. That’s why I chose that tiny studio to live in; location. I could have gotten a bigger space for less money, but the proximity to work, food and entertainment was worth some sacrifices.

7:40. ‘Perfect.’ I quickly peeled my sweat drenched clothes off, grabbed my scissors and bush trimming mirror, and set about fulfilling Malcolm’s shaving command. Shaving cream and a supply of razors were my weapons of choice for keeping my legs and pits smooth, but I was bushier than I’d expected, and it took time. 8:10… 8:15… ‘Not so perfect. Oh well, being on time to work is overrated anyway.’ It’s a very high-risk area to be using a razor! Surely my boss would understand.

A quick shower, then I grabbed Malcolm’s tie and remembered that I had no idea how to tie it. ‘Shit!’ Seems I’m not the only one who’s father never taught them, as googling “how to t” suggests “how to tie a tie” as the first result.

‘Right! Shaved: check. Naked: check. Tie: check. Showtime.’ I set the timer on my camera and posed, thrusting my hips forward to show off my newly extremely naked pussy while cupping my breasts close around Malcolm’s tie. I wanted to get the look just right. ‘Horny and mischievous, playful enough to let him know you’re fun but serious enough to show him you want his cock.’ I tried my best to duplicate alibeyköy escort the erotic expression Reddit’s Gone Wild models wear so naturally. It took several tries before I was happy with it.

I sent the picture to Malcolm’s phone.

Devyn: you forgot something sir

Devyn: i think ill wear it to work

Devyn: like my outfit?

Devyn: 😀

‘That’s right, we’re fucking sexting now! Get on my level!’ It was totally worth being late.

Malcolm did get on my level, but not quite in the revealing selfie way I’d expected. And maybe hoped for, just a little. Instead, over the next few days, he gave me homework. That’s how he presented it — “Homework.”

“Some educational material to dispel certain bedroom myths.” It wasn’t porn. Contrary to what one might expect given the start of our friendship, it certainly wasn’t porn. In fact, it was a very far cry from what we’d shared before. He sent me articles on the effects of power exchange play on internal chemistry and the brain. Long essays compiled from Fetlife users about the ins and outs of spanking, being tied up, things like that. The intention was to talk about what I liked and was interested in trying

I’ve read far more than my fair share of smut. These articles were certainly far from erotica. They were more informational and emphasizing reality. It brought home a sense of just how real this all was. Like, Malcolm was sharing spanking information with me because we were talking about him spanking me. Actually smacking my physical ass in the real world. It was a hard shift to wrap my head around. Fantasies feel safe and let your imagination run wild. After all, they’re not real and there’s no expectation that they’ll ever be real. Reading this stuff from my Dom, imagining what it would feel like took on a very different tone. I’d know firsthand very soon.

Before our first night, I’d been worried about being able to do what he would want me to. I wasn’t anymore. It was easy. As obvious as it might sound, all I had to do was obey. I often drifted back to how closely connected I’d felt with him as we gazed into each other’s eyes. Me kneeling under him, his firm grip in my hair, so incredibly open to him while he was his perfect full self for me…

I wanted to feel that again. More. In every possible variation. We were supposed to be setting limits, but so many things sounded appealing to try! Everything that would involve his hands on me and that look of delighted pleasure on his face was something I was open to. That to-do list expanded much faster than the turn-offs and limits.

Aside from wanting to enable Malcolm’s dominance, one thing I was especially interested in was marks. There’s a certain kind of kinky image that had always been my favorite. The image of a submissive woman, smiling and happy and proud, showing off the marks on her body she’s received from whatever she’s just endured. I like the positivity, bruises on somebody who’s clearly miserable don’t do it for me at all. I wanted to be one of those strong, determined women I was attracted to, someone who could take a whooping and wear her bruises as trophies with a genuine smile!

But as much as I read and we talked, it quickly became clear we’d need some experience to set benchmarks. For example, although I liked the idea of doing it with Malcolm, I’d never been spanked before. How much was a heavy ass beating to me? 5 spanks? 50? 500? I had no idea. Similarly, I’d never even experimented with handcuffs before. Would I freak out feeling any restraints like that? On the other extreme, would I enjoy being covered in ropes? At that point, it was all just theory.

We crafted a scene together. Well, he planned it out in his head. I mostly contributed excited affirmations when he suggested certain themes. It was very exciting! The process felt kind of like we were making a stir-fry. We went shopping for the ingredients together, then he cooked them into something delicious for us to share.

This would be our first time. Our real first time. I’d convinced him that last time didn’t really count because we hadn’t fucked. He laughed and asked how the ‘sex’ part of ‘oral sex’ didn’t count, but let himself be talked around.

Thinking about it made it hard to keep my hands off of myself. Remembering his mouth on my clit, his hands squeezing my tits, and thinking about everything that might come next got me very worked up.

But Malcolm’s first rule to me had been that my sexuality was his to play with, my orgasms his to control. It didn’t come up again, but I hadn’t forgotten, and I was determined to keep to it. It would be my special sauce contribution to our stir fry, arriving to the scene already wet and horny for him. Well, even wetter and hornier for him than I normally would have been.

He would be busy with study sessions and paper writing that week until Friday, so we decided to meet over the weekend and have a proper romantic date then go to his place and… have some fun. A small, nagging voice in sefaköy escort the back of my head whispered that I was forgetting something. Something important. Maybe it would have clicked if I’d looked at a calendar. Or hell, even if I’d just thought of it as the second week of the month instead of three generic days away. But I didn’t. All I thought was: ‘Three days!?! What the hell am I supposed to do to make three days pass?’

———-

The enemy Draven stealthily made his way into the brush at the far end of our lane. Foolishly thinking himself concealed, he waited for Lee Sin to make his way through the jungle to gank us. Sitting in our respective apartments seven miles apart, Malcolm and I grinned in unison. We moved together, Malcom’s Alistar diving in headfirst to stun Draven against the wall before tossing him into the air while my Jinx blasted him down. We laughed together over Discord as the Draven player complained in chat about his support not keeping track of our wards.

It was a small thing, but it felt meaningful to me. Call it confirmation bias or whatever, but I swear we were flowing together better. Before, maybe he would have wasted a second saying something like “I’m going in,” or I might have burned time reacting to him rather than anticipating. We were a well oiled machine in bottom lane and Draven and Thresh were our bitches.

I found it difficult to describe, even to myself. Parts of our relationship were changing as we became more sexual, but other things stayed the same. Like this. Something as simple as connecting together to play League of Legends, poke fun at each other and gossip about our days. It was just a thing we did. Something we’d done for years, but still, the ease with which it continued into our changing dynamic made me happy. Very, very happy.

It wasn’t like I’d been worried we’d become so weighted down by sexual tension that the friendship part of us would fall apart. Alright, maybe just a little concerned… But no, instead we felt tighter and more comfortable relaxing together than ever.

“You were telling me about inviting Nicole over?” Malcolm prodded me to continue my story.

“Oh yeah, like I was saying, she kinda invited herself over. She found me on Facebook and we were messaging. She asked what I was doing, I said ‘Nothing,’ and she was like ‘Great! I’ll bring some beers over.'”

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely Nicole. You must have really made an impression on her.”

“I don’t know what I did! I was a little shocked, I mean like, the fuck? Who does that? But it turned out fine. She’s really easy to get along with.”

***

“I come bearing gifts!” Nicole said, proudly presenting a six pack of some craft beer I’d never heard of.

“Hey. Thanks! Come in.”

Dressed casually with a Rolling Stones t-shirt and cargo shorts, she wasted no time cracking open two of the beers and offering me one. “I figured you for a lager type girl. If it’s crap, I’ll happily double fist these.”

“Am I that obvious?” I took a speculative sip.

“Nah, it’s just my super power. I see a sexy lady and I just know how to get her drunk.” It wasn’t crap. Whatever it was, it was actually pretty good.

Nicole cast a critical eye around my one room apartment. I’d done a better job cleaning up than I had for Malcolm. Perhaps not exactly “tidy” as such, but there wasn’t anything too embarrassing laying around. My mother might have objected to calling my bed “made,” but it was neat enough to pass millennial’s standards. “Give me a tour?” she asked.

“A tour? Five hundred sixty square feet, what you see is kinda what you get.”

She smiled warmly, “Indulge me.”

She was interested in everything. Well, not quite everything. She was willing to accept that much of my furniture was Ikea crap that every twenty-something year old starting professional is obliged to own. However, She stopped to investigate everything that represented some aspect of myself. Nicole latched onto my bookshelf, pouring over each title with the enthusiasm of a kindred spirit.

“Oh! You like Terry Pratchett too!” she exclaimed. “And Mistborn? Name of the Wind… Uprooted… Foundryside…” She appreciatively ran her fingers over a few of the more worn titles. “But very little set on planet Earth. One might almost think you like worlds of fantasy more than real life.”

***

Malcolm laughed, “she might have you there.”

I rolled my eyes, briefly forgetting that he couldn’t see. “Everybody should prefer fantasy. The real world just doesn’t have enough epic quests and magical powers.”

“Did she give you her Harry Potter rant?”

“No. What’s that?”

“Nicole’s famous literary thesis on why Harry Potter Seven is the worst book ever written.”

“Wow, that’s bold. Not just the low point of the series, but actually the worst of all time?”

“Yep, she’s actually quite convincing. Don’t worry, keep hanging around with her and you’ll hear it soon enough.” I filed that away for later. It seemed halkalı escort like a good conversation starter.

***

Nicole sat at my desk and reached for various things on it, like she was trying to get a feel for me by immersing herself in my natural habitat. I took the opportunity to eye her up a bit. ‘Only fair if she’s going to be investigating all my stuff!’

Amusingly, the difference in our heights meant her heels dangled inches from the floor and she had to slouch forward to reach my keyboard and mouse. Up close, the light from my desk lamp caught her red hair and made it shine. She idly played with her ear piercings as she tried, unsuccessfully, to find some kind of order in the chaos of stuff scattered in front of her. She had chosen red metal hoops, which seemed to create a natural flow of warm color all around her face.

I wondered what she might look like if she went all out with the theme. Red nails, maybe some kind of fiery outfit. The Rolling Stones’ red tongue and lips on her shirt matched quite well, but I was thinking or something deeper and more flowing.

“You know,’ Nicole turned and grinned as she caught me staring, “if Sam found my desk this cluttered, she’d spank me.”

I laughed, “she likes turning you into your Firefly mode?”

“Yeah,” she giggled mischievously, “maybe that’s why I never seem to remember to clean up.”

***

“You know,” Malcolm said thoughtfully, “Samantha might have a good idea there. You might really benefit from some incentive to be more organized.” My gut lurched in panic.

“No fucking way! We can’t do that, your hands would fall off. Besides, I volunteered the information, doesn’t using it against me violate the Bill of Rights or something?”

“Nope,” I could hear the smile in his voice, “that’s not how the Fifth Amendment works. Once you’ve said it, I’m free to do whatever I want with the information.”

“Curses. Well, as my lawyer, you should have advised me of that.”

“Not graduated yet. You’re still on your own.”

***

She settled on the couch as I fetched another pair of beers for us. “You have a lot of open wall space,” she observed.

“Yeah, I’ve never really got around to finding anything I really like to hang up.” Her face lit up like I’d given her a quest. “I donno… I spend most of my free time either at the gym or on the computer, I never really felt the need to decorate.”

“You lift, brah?” She flexed and tried her best frat douche imitation, which clashed hilariously with her feminine voice and puffed out breasts.

“Totally dude,” I laughed. “You?”

“Nah, I prefer being outdoors.”

“Isn’t that hard living in the city?”

“Yeah. There’s not really to much within easy driving distance, but I do get to have some adventures on long weekends.” She shifted gears abruptly, “speaking of adventures, how did your night with Malcolm finish up?”

My eyes unconsciously flicked across the room to my bed. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to share with her. As much as she made it easy to feel comfortable around her, we had really only just met. She changed her mind, though, and saved me from having to decide.

“Wait, scratch that, that’s starting the story at the very end. Let’s go back to the beginning. How did you two meet? Malcolm told some absurd story a while back about his best friend and a high school project?”

I grinned knowingly, ‘absurd, eh?’ and told her.

***

“I bet she loved that,” said Malcolm.

“She fucking died laughing. Apparently, it was either the most or the least romantic thing she’d ever heard, and she couldn’t decide which. Seems your version left out some of the better details.”

“I was trying to make it believable! They already couldn’t believe you didn’t run away screaming.” Well, to be fair, if I’d been anybody else, they probably would have.

“What?” I teased, “Doesn’t everybody have a perv friend sending them kinky porn all the time?”

“By ‘perv porn obsessed friend’, are you referring to me or to yourself?”

“Touché”

***

“That’s excellent,” Nicole slowly recovered her breath from laughter, “so now, at long last, you two got together?”

I clucked my tongue in mock disapproval, “Quid pro quo, Clarice. Your turn to tell me a story.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Dr. Lecter. But my origin story isn’t nearly as cool as yours.” I gave her an encouraging smile, settling in to listen. She tilted her head and bit her lip, looking very cute as she gazed off into space thinking of where to begin.

“Senior year of college, I needed to find somebody to split rent with in like two weeks. I’d had the same room mate for three years, but things got weird when I came out to her. I think she felt guilty about her own homophobia and she tried to be good, but neither of us felt comfortable in our own home after a while so we split. She was a bitch anyway. PMS like you wouldn’t believe.

“Sam just so happened to be the first one to answer my Craigslist post. We decided to meet up at a Starbucks to see if we liked each other enough to tolerate splitting an apartment. Now, I had pretty much decided I’d take her no matter what. I mean, rent was due very soon and I was broke. Still am pretty much broke as a matter of fact, but such is life.” She took a big gulp of beer, tilting it skyward to get the bottom of the bottle. “Another for you?”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Chapter 3 – Akshata and Vaishnavi

Akshata knew Sundar wouldn’t have anything normal to say; it was too late in the night to message inquiring about her health. But she did find it super weird that he had gotten straight to the point. She had taken the WhatsApp message from Sundar straight to Vaishnavi, who was the only roommate with whom she had previously shared Sundar’s abnormal fantasies. Akshata had also shared with Vaishnavi that she nurtured a soft spot for Sundar at that time. That was nearly 3 months ago.

A part of her still fancied Sundar and wanted to find out if her and him would work out. Even though she was 8 years younger to him, Akshata was confident in her personality and sexuality to keep the relationship balanced, but the guy had been in a committed relationship when she was at GD Tech and he had neither made a move on her nor seemed in any way interested. And now that he had made a move, she was sure his idea of a relationship with her was very dissimilar to what she had in mind. Having said that, there was no denying that her deep dive into the world of BDSM and power exchange had left her wet and excited. So, a part of her wanted to experience having a man completely under her control too – the part of her that wanted to get even for all the harassment she had had to face from males ever since she hit puberty. But this was Sundar; would she be able to be as cruel as those women she had seen in those videos on sadomasochism? These feelings and a hundred more were flying through her mind as she sat looking at Sundar’s words, “Akshata, would it be okay if I took care of you for the next three months?”

Vaishnavi, who was seated beside her and looking at her with mild concern, spoke, “Akshu, what’s the matter? Tell me, yaar.”

19-year-old Akshata shared all of her feelings with the 25-year-old Vaishnavi and looked at the older girl with trepidation, sensing, perhaps, that her feelings were all misplaced and Vaishnavi was going to shoot them all down and ask her to block Sundar on WhatsApp and be done with it.

It was therefore that Akshata was surprised when Vaishnavi simply asked her, “Do you trust him?”

“Of course, Vaish, I do. He was a thorough gentleman at GD Tech.”

Vaishnavi considered this for a while and then asked, “Question 2: How much money does he make?”

Akshata did not like the sound of this question and nor did she particularly enjoy the twinkle in Vaishnavi’s eyes as she asked this. “He told me he made 7 lakhs per annum, which is around sixty thousand a month. Why do you ask? What has that got to do with anything?” If Akshata had not enjoyed the question or the twinkle in Vaishnavi’s eyes, she liked the sudden glow on Vaishnavi’s face least of all.

“That, Akshu, has got everything to do with everything. He may not be rich exactly, but how many others do you know that make so much money?” Saying this, Vaishnavi got even closer to Akshata on the bed and her voice reduced in octaves till she was almost whispering.

Vaishnavi spoke for a good 20 minutes. She knew all the right things to say. The reluctant Akshata that received Sundar’s proposal at 12:33 AM was not the Akshata that emerged at 1 AM after their chat. All of Akshata’s fears had been allayed by the more experienced Vaishnavi. She had manipulated Akshata’s longing for Sundar’s affections into what she felt would turn into a mutually beneficial relationship for all involved, except Sundar of course. In conclusion, Vaishnavi asked Akshata to wait till the morning of the next day before replying. What was more, Vaishnavi even gave her the exact text of the WhatsApp reply to send to Sundar. It went like this: “Sundar, use just one sentence and tell me what exactly do you mean by ‘taking care of me’. Reply in 2 minutes or this thing stops right here and I block you.”

With Vaishnavi by her side, Akshata felt safe and happy to go ahead with this. It was going to be once-in-a-lifetime experience for sure, but she was ready for it. Hugging Vaishnavi tightly, she got up off the bed. Mobile phone in hand, Akshata headed straight to the esenler escort washroom. After about 20 minutes inside, she heard a soft knock and a badly suppressed giggle from the door.

“Hurry up, Akshu. We have just the one washroom, you know…” It was Vaishnavi, and Akshata could have sworn there was an edge to her voice that she had heard only on those rare occasions when Vaishnavi and her had gotten intimate…

–

At 10 AM the next day, Akshata sent the reply Vaishnavi had drafted to Sundar. She was pleasantly surprised to receive a reply within 30 seconds. Sundar had simply sent a link. Akshata eagerly forwarded the link to Vaishnavi and found a quiet spot at her college campus to open the link in some privacy. Five minutes later, she was reading the interview of a professional dominatrix in UK who had been introduced to the world of female domination while she was at University. This dominatrix had been living in a paying-guest system with other girls and a senior who owned a “home slave”. This 30s-something Asian man cleaned their rooms, did their homework, and paid their rent in exchange for being whipped on the ass with a mobile charger and occasional verbal abuse, which he enjoyed. The lady went on into details of how this system allowed the roommates to enjoy college to the fullest and never worry about finances or homework. The home slave even bought these girls gifts from time to time, whatever they demanded. When the senior finished her program and left University, the other girls quickly replaced the home slave with another 30s-something Asian.

Akshata read through the piece again and slowly came to appreciate Vaishnavi’s cunning. She had accurately foreseen that Sundar would have something like this on his mind. Just like the 30s-something Asian man, Sundar had had enough of vanilla relationships and wanted to chase his true nature, that of being a subservient to a powerful woman or women. Akshata wondered whether Vaishnavi had also calculated that Sundar would remember about the other girls Akshata lived with and involve them in the ‘taking care’ bit. She wondered whether Vaishnavi had expected Sundar to directly indicate he was ready to serve all 5 girls or Vaishnavi had planned to gradually get him to “take care” of them all financially. This explained why Vaishnavi had positively glowed when Akshata told her about Sundar’s monthly take-home.

–

Akshata and Vaishnavi arrived at the Cafe Coffee Day outlet at 1:30 PM, 30 minutes before Akshata had asked Sundar to meet her there. It was a Friday, three day after Sundar has sent Akshata the link explaining what he meant when he said “taking care of her”. Vaishnavi had told Akshata to reply only after a good 48 hours had passed and ask him to meet her at a busy location. She had also asked Akshata to make sure he had to come during office hours. She said she wanted to check how serious he was, and Akshata had agreed, albeit reluctantly. When Akshata asked Vaishnavi why she wanted her to wait 48 hours before replying to Sundar, she had looked at Akshata as if the reason was so obvious.

“To inform the other girls and convince them about this arrangement, dummy!” Vaishnavi said. “This only works if all of us are on the same page. But, don’t worry, I’ll talk to them all. The key is how it is presented to them. I have a plan, though,” she ended with a wink. Vaishnavi had gone to work after that; Akshata had rarely seen such energy in her. Apparently, the link that Sundar had sent was perfectly to her liking.

After three days of intense and sometimes heated conversations in the kitchen, the hall, both the bedrooms, and even the washroom, not to mention day and night discussions and query-solving sessions on their mutually shared WhatsApp group, Vaishnavi emerged victorious.

The very evening that Sundar had sent the link, Vaishnavi had called an all-five meeting and laid the idea of Sundar and his proposal on the table to all the roommates. That very evening, Namrata, who was always up for a new experience, was convinced florya escort this was a great thing to try for 3 months. She just asked to be shown Sundar’s photo, nodded her approval of his physical appearance, said “I’m in if he does the vessels every day and buys us a washing machine,” and went back to reading her novel.

Since Akshata outwardly still demonstrated a positive outlook to this plan (since Sundar was her contact), there were now three girls on one side and two on the other. Ayushi, the eldest of the girls at 27, had a clear head on her shoulders. Akshata was pretty convinced Ayushi would never consent to this. And Komal, who was fresh out of college and had just joined her first job, immediately toed Ayushi’s line. These two girls were convinced Sundar was a sexual predator and flatly refused to be a part of this. It was not until Vaishnavi proposed to record the entire conversation between them and Sundar at Cafe Coffee Day and play it to them that they agreed to not veto the proposal altogether.

And so they sat at the CCD at 1:45, sipping their cappuccinos and waiting for Sundar. Vaishnavi was nervous but knew how to hide it. She placed a Conference Call between herself, Ayushi, and Komal (who were at their jobs) and started call recording too. When she placed the phone on the glass-topped table and looked up at Akshata, she saw her looking fixedly at someone outside the cafe, who was parking his motorbike on the opposite side of the road and fixing his hair looking at his motorbike’s rear-view mirror. Akshata’s eyes followed Sundar as he crossed the road at a jog and glanced at his wristwatch. Akshata instinctively glanced at her wristwatch too. It was 1:50. Sundar was 10 minutes early. Akshata looked over at Vaishnavi and saw that she too was following Sundar’s movements with a hungry look in her eyes.

“He’s here, girls, here we go. Don’t forget to mute this call on your phones,” said Vaishnavi, for the benefit of Ayushi and Komal. Akshata couldn’t help but notice that Vaishnavi’s voice was shaky. Something moved inside Akshata as she observed this. Vaishnavi had driven this from the start, even though Sundar was her acquaintance. Akshata had hardly helped in any way. Now, as she heard Vaishnavi’s stressed voice, her determination, which had been dispersed for a few days, set anew. She got to her feet as Sundar approached their table.

“Sundar, you’ve grown fat since the last time we met. Explain yourself,” said Akshata. Sundar’s greeting for Akshata spluttered into nothingness. He opened his mouth and closed it again, not sure whether Akshata was being funny or unnecessarily rude.

“Er…Akshata, hi…Fat, you say? Is it the shirt? Coz I can change it in 5 minutes and come back…” He seemed to be balancing on one leg, uncertain whether he should turn back.

Akshata noticed his backpack looked large. He had another set of clothes in there, at the least. He had clearly come here directly from work. Akshata took her time looking at him from top to bottom. Sundar was wearing a loose blue shirt on top of a snug white t-shirt. While the t-shirt was tucked into his plain pair of jeans, the shirt wasn’t. He wore red running shoes, the same ones Akshata remembered from her time at GD Tech. His hair was fashionably scattered and his deodorant spoke to Akshata of the earthy tones of Africa. It was the same aroma she had smelled a hundred times at GD Tech. It was the same aroma she had fallen for…Akshata breathed in deeply, something Sundar did not miss, as evidenced by the tiny smirk that appeared on his lip.

But Akshata came to almost immediately. She reminded herself that she had to keep her head. “Hmm, could be the shirt. No need to change. Here, meet Vaishnavi, my roommate. She will be here throughout this short conversation,” smiled Akshata. Sundar took the loose hand Vaishnavi presented to him lazily, almost as if Sundar wasn’t worth her effort. He shook it earnestly, not at all taken aback by the presence of this third person at their table, and said, “Pleasure to meet you, kayaşehir escort Vaishnavi.” As the handshake broke off, Sundar placed his backpack under an empty chair and asked what they would like to eat along with their cappuccinos.

Vaishnavi said, “Surprise us,” and Sundar smiled easily and went over to the counter to place an order.

Immediately, Vaishnavi huddled close to Akshata and whispered, “He’s a little overweight, but not a bad first impression! I love how he recovered from your little ballbust and my presence. Took it all in his stride. And that deo is something else! Shall I take it from here, then?”

“Be my guest,” said Akshata, “let’s get him good.”

Sundar came back with 2 platters full of food. In answer to the girls’ raised eyebrows, he said, “This is everything they have. I BOUGHT you the menu. Surprise!” Both the girls got the bought-brought joke at the same time and couldn’t help but laugh. Sundar joined them. Their continued laughter got so loud that other patrons looked at them, annoyed. That little practical joke set the tone for their discussion. Akshata was so glad that Sundar had broken the tension. They chatted like old friends after that. For a couple of hours, female domination and sadomasochism seemed like the natural order of things, something so obvious and innocent, with no guilt or sin attached to it. Akshata wondered in years to come whether Sundar had planned it so that they should feel that way or he had just decided to wing it and had come 100% carefree to that discussion at CCD…

To Vaishnavi’s questions about his past and why he had become a submissive, Sundar spoke earnestly of his past. He told them that very early into puberty, he was sitting in line at a doctor’s dispensary when he had read an odd little magazine. In one of the articles, there was a picture of a man on all fours in a traffic jam being used as a pony by two grown women. The article had been about the increasing vehicular population in Mumbai and how using a man’s back to get to work was a better alternate than taking out one’s personal vehicle. The women were dressed in strict corporate attires and looked like they meant business. The man had a pained expression on his face. The woman who was closer to his neck had pulled back his tie to use as the lead for her human pony.

This image left such a deep and indelible mark on young Sundar’s psyche that his hormone-addled mind had latched on to that image for sexual stimulus for years. This was a time of no computers or Internet, so whenever he got off, it was to this image and other made-up scenes in his mind’s eye where women (typically Indian Bollywood actresses) were abusing him physically and giving him pain, lots of pain.

He went on to inform them that even though that memory was shelved and he enjoyed vanilla porn with his friends as he got older, it was always there. Fast forward 10 years, Sundar realized that he could not get sexually excited without physical pain. A supportive girlfriend had eluded him all these years. He had had 5 girlfriends, he told them, and none of them stayed too long when he revealed his innermost secrets.

“So, I thought, why pretend anymore? Instead of waiting for a year of vanilla kuchi-cooing before revealing that I’m a pain slut, I thought I ought to just start with all my cards on the table, and here we are.” Sundar ended with a guilty half-smile in Akshata’s direction.

“Sundar, tell me,” Vaishnavi looked at him thoughtfully, “if all of this is going to give you sexual satisfaction, then it IS selfish of you, right?”

“I won’t lie to you and say it isn’t selfish, Vaishnavi, because it is. I will be deriving significant pleasure serving you ladies in every way I can. It’s always been my dream.”

“I don’t know about you, Vaishnavi,” Akshata spoke up, “but I would be far more comfortable if we got some control over Sundar’s ‘pleasures’. What do you say?”

Vaishnavi gave Akshata a knowing smile. Both of them looked at Sundar and were happy they had elicited the exact response they thought they’d get out of him. Sundar had suddenly turned red and clammy in the face. He looked uncomfortably from one girl to the other.

“The first purchase you’ll make for us will be a chastity belt for yourself, Sundar. I’ll hold on to the key, or at least, my ankle will.”

Gulping hard, Sundar croaked, “So you actually did Google ‘power exchange’, eh, Akshata?”

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Sarah never thought that her devotion to the Earth might cause her death. She was in the mountains of southern Colorado where, she passionately believed, the land had been ravaged by man’s greed for gold. She and her fellow members of the Sequoia Club had decided to put a stop to the plundering of Nature. Sarah was on a solo scouting trip to determine the worst offenders; then she and her friends in the club would bring the ravagers to justice. She had left her home in Albuquerque and driven to a trailhead north of Pagosa Springs, and after a few uneventful days on the trail she reached this mine, the first of many on her list.

The mine site was surrounded by a three-strand barbed wire fence. Every fifty feet or so there was sign attached to the fence that said: ‘No Trespassing – Ishtar Mining Company’. Sarah ignored the signs. Nature’s pillagers had no right to keep their destructive activities secret, and no sign would stop her crusade for environmental justice. She took off her backpack and crawled under the fence and onto a mound of mine tailings that was at least fifty feet high at this point. She scrambled up the steep slope to the flat top of the pile.

There was a lot of scrap metal scattered around up here, and Sarah walked over to investigate a large rusty metal object. It looked to be part of a hoist of some sort, because there was a tangle of wire cables attached to it and going over the edge of the tailings pile and trailing diagonally down the slope. She moved closer to the edge of the mound and stood on a sheet of rusting metal. Just as she leaned out to look down the slope the sheet of metal abruptly tipped under her feet. She fell and started to roll down the slope and into the tangle of cables. She managed to bring up her leg so that the sole of her boot hit the side of another metal object and the impact caused it slide a foot or so downhill.

Sarah was congratulating herself on her clever avoidance of injury when she felt something around her right ankle. A loop of rusty wire cable now circled around the top of her boot. This loop was held closed by another loop that was attached to the metal object that she had kicked; when it slid down the slope it had closed the ankle loop tight. It didn’t cut her foot off because there was a corroded clamp still bolted to one side of the loop around her ankle and this had caught the other cable.

At first she was more annoyed than frightened. Sarah couldn’t believe that she could really be trapped by just falling into a tangle of cables, but as she unsuccessfully tried to extricate herself she realized that it had actually happened. A loop of cable was tight around her ankle and she couldn’t get it loose.

Sarah tried everything she could think of to free herself, but the fundamental problem was that she had to pull the metal object up the slope to release the loop, and there was no way she could do that. It must have weighed several hundred pounds, and she couldn’t have moved it even if she wasn’t trapped. After several futile attempts to free herself she screamed with frustration, and then continued to scream for help until her throat was sore. No one answered.

Sarah was on the south side of the tailings pile and there was no shade. The sky was clear and likely to remain so; thundershowers usually didn’t occur until later in the summer. Luckily, she was wearing her jacket, and she used it to cover her face and hands. Sarah knew that she had to conserve the moisture in her body so she lay quietly on the dirt. She tried to sleep, but as time went by the pain in her ankle increased and it kept her awake. After the sun went down the air quickly cooled, and the ache and the cold prevented all but brief naps. It was a long night.

When the sun rose Sarah tried again to free her leg from the cable that trapped it, but she was no more successful now than she had been yesterday. She struggled all morning, and as the sun reached the zenith Sarah looked at the cloudless sky and finally admitted to herself that she could die right here on this pile of red dirt.

The heat from the direct sunshine was sucking the moisture from her body, and she hadn’t had any water since yesterday morning. Her backpack with its precious water bottles was only fifty feet away, but it could have been on the moon for all the help it gave her. Sarah ignored the pain and pulled at the cables that held her right ankle in an implacable clasp. They flexed a little, but still she could not free herself. Despair overwhelmed her and she wept, her eyes squandering fluid that her body couldn’t afford to lose. The sun dried her tears.

Sarah knew now that her only chance of survival was to have someone find her before she died of thirst. As the day dragged on she rested quietly, her head covered by her jacket. Late in the afternoon she heard a noise close by. A turkey vulture had landed a few feet away and she stared with horror at its bare red head and its dirty brown feathers. It flew off when she moved, and she watched it as it awkwardly flapped bayrampaşa escort away. She looked up and saw almost a dozen of the hideous birds circling above. When Sarah realized that soon she was going to be nothing but carrion she broke down and sobbed.

* * *

Tom was running the processing plant and getting a better than average yield when the stamp mill ran out of ore. He had blasted this morning and there was a lot of loose ore, but shovelling it into the ore car, pushing it out of the mine, and dumping it into the hopper of the stamp mill was his least favorite task, especially since the main drift was over a half mile long now. Tom remembered that he was going to need some more rails soon, so he decided to go over to the other mine and see what was available for salvage.

It was less than a mile to the other mine and Tom decided to walk. It was a beautiful afternoon and he got outside all too seldom. He ruefully thought how ironic it was that since he started to live up here in the mountains and work the mine he spent less time outside just enjoying himself than he did when he had a job in the city and only came up on weekends.

As Tom got close to the other mine he noticed some buzzards circling over the end of the tailings pile and wondered what was dying. He walked in that direction. If it was a deer and still alive he might be able to salvage some meat. A buzzard landed and then took off again, so the animal was still moving. Tom was really curious now. He climbed through the fence, not bothering to open the gate, and scrambled to the top of the tailings pile.

Tom walked out to the end of the tailings and looked down the slope. He saw the body of a woman about half-way down, next to a tangle of cables and some other junk. Tom heard her crying; she was still alive.

When Tom slid down next to her Sarah removed the jacket that was over her head. She tried to sit up, but couldn’t quite make it and fell back on her side.

She pleaded, “Please, give me some water. I haven’t had any since yesterday.”

“Sorry, I don’t have any with me. Are you injured?”

Sarah shook her head, and then pointed at her backpack just outside the fence. “Water bottles. In my pack. Over there.”

Tom retrieved the water from Sarah’s pack and climbed back next to her. He opened a bottle and gave it to her. “Here. Drink slowly, but drink as much as you can.”

While she was drinking Tom looked her over. She was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt and appeared to be in her early twenties. She was of medium height and had a chubby body. Her face was dirty and tear-streaked, but Tom thought she might be pretty under better circumstances. She had short black hair and green eyes that were now red-rimmed from crying. There was a loop of half-inch cable around her right ankle.

Tom looked at Sarah’s foot and shook his head. “This cable couldn’t have caught you any neater if it had been a snare somebody rigged up.” She didn’t respond.

Tom decided not to try to move the large steel plate that kept the loop closed around Sarah’s ankle. If the cable slipped off of the old clamp it might take her foot off. He would have to cut her loose.

“I’m going back to my camp and get a hacksaw. I’ll be back in about a half hour. Will you be OK until then?”

She nodded yes without interrupting her drinking. He scrambled to the ground and unlocked the gate in the fence.

Tom jogged back home and got his hacksaw from the toolbox. He decided to drive back in case the girl wasn’t able to walk, and for once his old ’82 Ford pickup started on the first try. He drove slowly over the rutted road that led to the other mine and parked the truck as close as he could get.

The hacksaw had a new blade and it didn’t take Tom long to cut the cable around Sarah’s ankle. He pulled the loop open and she extricated her foot.

She started crying again. “Oh, thank you. I was sure that I was going to die here; the vultures were just waiting.”

Tom helped her to stand up. “Can you walk?”

“I don’t think so. My foot is numb.”

“I’ll carry you to the truck.”

He picked her up and walked down to the truck, helped her into the front seat, and then went back and got the saw, the water bottles, and the backpack. The truck started again and he backed it around and got it out onto the road.

Tom drove back to his active mine and stopped outside the derelict Airstream trailer that was now his home. Before he helped Sarah out of the truck he went into the shed that housed the water turbine and opened the valve on the inlet pipe. It would be dark soon and the turbine would provide electricity for the lights in the trailer.

Sarah’s foot had recovered enough that she could walk with help. She put her arm around Tom’s shoulders and he held her around the waist while she went up the steps and into the trailer. He helped her to sit on the couch in the living area and removed the boot from her injured fulya escort foot. There were some nasty bruises, but it didn’t look like anything was broken.

“Your ankle doesn’t look too bad. How long were you trapped?”

“Since yesterday morning. It was terrible. I was sure that I was going to die.”

“I’m glad I found you before it was too late. My name is Tom Williams. What’s your name?”

“Sarah Jenkins. Thank you for rescuing me.”

“You need some food. I made some chili and there’s plenty. Would you like some?”

“Oh, yes. I’m so hungry. Er, does it have meat in it?”

“Yeah, it’s meat. Don’t ask too many questions about where it came from.”

“I don’t eat meat. I believe it is wrong to sacrifice our fellow creatures just for their protein. Do you have anything else to eat?”

Tom was annoyed. Did she think he was running a restaurant? He rummaged through the cupboard.

“Here’s a can of beans. Vegetable protein OK?”

“Yes, that would be all right if there isn’t anything better. Can you take me back to my car after we’ve eaten? It’s parked at the Pioneer trailhead.”

“Not tonight. The road out of here is kind of bad and I don’t like to drive it in the dark. Besides, that trailhead is quite a distance from here by road. Let’s wait until morning. Maybe your foot will be in good enough shape that you can continue your hike.”

Tom put the beans and the chili on the propane stove to heat. “I’ll get your gear from the truck. The toilet is right through that door. You can wash at the sink.”

When Tom got back with Sarah’s pack she had cleaned up, and with the dirt washed off her face he decided that she was pretty. When the food was hot Tom brought the pans to the table. He helped Sarah sit in one of the two chairs.

Tom gave her a spoon. “Dig in. This is as elegant as it gets. Do you want some coffee? It’s brewed fresh this morning and all I have to do is heat it up.”

“No thanks.” She yawned. “I’m very tired. Is there someplace I can sleep?”

“Yeah, you can use the couch over there. I haven’t got any clean sheets, so you’ll have to use your sleeping bag.”

When Tom finished eating he put his pan in the sink. “I’m going to be working outside for a while. We can talk some more in the morning, and if your foot isn’t better I’ll drive you back to your car.”

Tom entered the mine and walked all the way to the end of the tracks, pushing the ore car ahead of him. A big pile of ore had been blasted loose and he needed to move it out of the mine. Tom shoveled until the car was full and pushed it out of the mine and dumped the ore into the hopper. This job was harder than it should have been because most of the track went slightly uphill going out; the original prospectors hadn’t been too careful with their leveling.

Tom shoveled and shoved for several hours and then quit for the night. When he got back to the trailer Sarah was already asleep.

* * *

The smell of coffee woke Sarah the next morning. She looked around the cramped trailer and felt a wave of relief that she wasn’t trapped and waiting to die. It was kind of squalid in here, but anything was better than the cable on her ankle and the vultures patiently waiting.

Tom was standing by the stove cooking something. This was the first time Sarah had a good look at him. He wasn’t tall, but he looked strong, with thick arms and big hands. He had short brown hair flecked with gray and a neatly trimmed brown beard. The part of his face not covered by his beard looked pale for somebody who lived out here in the mountains. Sarah tried to estimate his age. Her father was fifty, and Tom looked like he was a bit younger.

“Good morning, Tom.”

“Good morning to you. How does your foot feel this morning?”

Sarah got out of her sleeping bag and stood up. Her ankle hurt, but it wasn’t too bad and she could walk normally. “It’s much better. There are some ugly bruises but nothing seems to be broken. I can walk OK.”

“I’m glad. That means that you can keep hiking.”

“I would, except that I want to get back to Albuquerque as soon as I can so I can get the lawsuit started.”

“What do you mean, lawsuit? Who do you plan to sue?”

“The Ishtar Mining Company. According to the signs, it’s the owner of the mine where I was trapped. We can sue for negligence, distress, anything we can think of.”

“Who is ‘we’?” You’re the only one that got hurt.”

“I’m a member of the Sequoia Club, and we plan to eliminate all of the mines in this area. We can use this incident as a pretext to put Ishtar out of business, and that will put pressure on the other mining companies.”

“But you were trespassing! The mine was fenced off and posted. You don’t have a chance of winning your case.”

“I don’t expect that the case will ever get to court. We’ll make it so expensive and inconvenient for Ishtar that they’ll be glad to settle just so they won’t go bankrupt paying their lawyers. yenibosna escort The Sequoia Club has all the money it needs, because it gets tax exempt donations and doesn’t have to worry about making a profit.”

Sarah explained, “My fiancé is a lawyer with a law firm that specializes in class action lawsuits. In most of his cases they get paid big money just to go away. The executives of a corporation really hate it when they get dragged away from their work for depositions and such. We’ll file this case in Federal Court in New Mexico so they’ll have to go out of town. That just adds to the aggravation.”

“Don’t you think it’s immoral to use the courts like this to ruin innocent people? You know that it was your own fault that you got trapped.”

“The ends justify the means. Ishtar has no right to rape the Earth like this. If some stockholders lose some money, too bad.”

“You’re looking at the Ishtar stockholders.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m the Ishtar Mining Company. I’m a geologist. I studied this area and I believe there is a lot of gold still to be found here. Five years ago some friends and I used all our savings and bought these two old mines. This mine is the most promising, and I’ve been working it ever since we bought it. I can recover enough gold to just about pay expenses, but so far I haven’t found commercial quantities of ore.”

“You mean you operate this mine by yourself?”

“Yes. For the first few years my friends helped, but they had to quit so they could find jobs to support their families. I work here alone from late spring until the snow shuts me down. I don’t make any money here, so in the winter I go to Arizona or California and work in construction. It’s been slow going working by myself, but I can’t afford to hire anyone, let alone pay a lawyer.”

This was awkward. Sarah was grateful to Tom for rescuing her, but she felt morally obligated to eliminate mining, and what he said told her how easy it would be to make an example of Ishtar. She decided to put aside personal feelings. The Earth was more important.

She apologized, “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be hurt, but I have to do what is right. When can we leave for the trailhead?”

Tom slammed a pan full of oatmeal down on the table. “Here’s your breakfast. I have to do some things in the mine. I’ll be back soon.”

Sarah looked at the gray lump in the pan. She didn’t like oatmeal, but it was probably all he had. She asked, “Do you have milk and sugar?”

“No. Put some salt on it.” Tom stormed out and slammed the door behind him. Sarah found a spoon and a bowl and started to eat some oatmeal. Tom was right. It did taste better with some salt on it.

He was back about a half hour later. Sarah asked, “Can we leave now?”

“In a little while. I want to show you what I’ve done here and maybe you’ll decide not to take away what took me five years to build.”

Sarah hesitated, but then she decided she owed him that much since he did save her life. She put on her boots and they left the trailer. She followed Tom to a large metal building located between what looked like an old tailings pile and a newer pile.

Tom said, “The processing plant is in here. It’s not very efficient, but I can run it by myself.”

He unlocked the door and she followed him inside. Sarah had expected to see fancy equipment, but everything looked crude and homemade.

She asked, “What is that machine? It looks like it was made from an old truck.”

“That’s the stamp mill. It pounds the ore to a powder. It was built on the chassis of an old truck and uses the truck engine for power. All of this equipment was built by me and my friends from plans, using salvaged parts mostly.”

He showed her the rest of the machinery and explained what it was for, but Sarah didn’t understand what it did and didn’t pay much attention. They left the building and climbed some stairs to the top of the old tailings pile. There was a long, narrow building up here that led from the side of the mountain to the processing building. Tom unlocked a door and they went inside. Running down the middle of the building were what looked like the tracks of a small railroad.

Tom said, “I built this cover so I wouldn’t get rained on while I was moving the ore from the mine to the processing plant.” He pointed at the track. “Those rails and that ore car are nearly a hundred years old.”

They followed the track to the mine entrance, where a massive steel door was standing open. When they entered the mine Sarah was surprised by the small size of the tunnel. She could walk upright, but Tom had to duck under the beams supporting the roof. They walked a long way along the tunnel, which was dimly lit by widely spaced light bulbs. Sarah was glad she never had a problem with claustrophobia.

Every so often there was a side tunnel, and one of these had a door closing it off. “What’s behind the door?”, Sarah asked.

“Storage. I keep mining supplies in there, especially the explosives.”

They kept walking. Sarah finally asked, “How much farther does this shaft go?”

“We’re almost to the end. And this is a drift, not a shaft. Shafts are vertical.”

Suddenly the tunnel got much bigger. Tom explained, “I found a rich pocket of ore here, and I made this cavern digging it out. The vein of ore went up there.”

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