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Two women are drawn to the darker side of sexuality.
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Favorited by bisexualsmoker , Gamecox , wr7990 and 1 others
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In the past I'd been repressed, then liberated. Now I was jaded. Trying to get a sexual response out of my body was exhausting. Like an imbecile hammering on a piano, I had the stamina, the objective—to come—but I could not bring forth a melody.
Day after day I tried. I needed to. It was summer, as sultry as London gets, and I had just got in from work. Feeling hot and grubby I lay on the sofa, my hand placed over my cunt, frantically shuffling through what had once been my hot buttons to orgasm. I paused at each image, to see whether it would do the trick. A porn star, blonde hair in medusa-like ringlets wearing only hot pants, unzipping them and lowering herself onto my face. Nothing. Next image. Myself as a nurse—embarrassing really even to have such a tawdry fantasy—kitted out in suspenders and a tiny uniform. I have just parked my trolley full of pills beside the bed of a handsome male patient. The rest of the ward is asleep. He is awake but stares at me impassively.
"Now, let me find your pills," I say, and as I bend down, pulling the trays out, looking for his medication, the inevitable finger creeps under my panties. I turn my head, shocked, cry, "Sir! What on earth do you think you're doing?" all the while still with my arse in the air, relishing the fact that his fingers are already bringing forth a hot blast of pleasure. In the fantasy I start to moan. Eventually I straighten up, drag the curtain around his bed, then staddle him, all the while moaning through clenched teeth, "Oh sir, no sir, I can't possibly. Oh sir!"
This image had once done the trick of getting me hot. But tonight, as on every night this past month, nothing. I slid my hand out of my pants. I tried to remember how exciting it had been as a teenager, to masturbate surreptitiously, separated from my parents by a thin wall, feeling dirty and high. I tried to recall all the wasted years, when I had been too self-conscious to wank myself off in front of men, thereby denying my own pleasure and … damn it, what was the point of remembering, none of it was getting me any closer to release.
It was getting on towards seven when I suddenly remembered that I'd arranged to meet Paula, a thirty-year-old TV producer. She had once been the flat mate of my ex-boyfriend Daniel and we seemed to be forever arranging to meet and then, one or the other of us would cancel. I decided that I couldn't let her down again. I slipped on my linen trousers and drew the belt—woven from soft strips of brown leather—through my palm, then fastened the buckle.
I walked the three blocks to Bertorelli's, a bar in Charlotte Street. I scanned the tables outside, then went in. Spotting her elegant neck, her expensively bobbed red hair, I walked up behind her and rested my hand lightly on the shoulder of her gray jacket, and as she looked up at me her angular face looked like a series of planes chopped out of a chalk face. She had been chain smoking, judging by the heap of butts in the ashtray in front of her.
We talked about nothing that I can recall for several hours. We drank two bottles of wine. The room was a blur. I felt tired and wanted to go to sleep. I half listened as she psychobabbled about my ex.
"You know, I don't think you're over Daniel. Oh, you act as if you were—" She waved her cigarette expansively in front of her face, "but I'm not sure I'm convinced."
"I am, believe me. If I never see the little shit again it'll be too soon."
She gulped down the last of the wine, reminding me of a just caught fish gasping for air. "It might do you good to have some sort of closure. To realize that you're better off out of the relationship."
I decided to make one last stab at resurrecting the evening. "Jerry—you know, you met him at my dinner party—well he asked me about you."
"Oh yeah?" I could feel her skinny shoulders tensing under the suit jacket.
"Well, he asked me whether you were AC/DC."
"What do you mean?" A ringlet of hair fell across her face. Her eyes, pale blue, were fixed rigidly on my face.
"You know. Christ! He wanted to know whether you swing both ways."
She was silent. "Do I …" she said falteringly, her eyes lowered. "Do I give out that vibe?"
"Well, you are pretty androgynous looking I suppose, not that that means anything."
"I'm not a lesbian." She spat the word out. "Jesus! I love men." She reached over and rested her fingers on her leather rucksack as if she were about to leave.
"Okay. Let's just drop it." I surveyed the long bar, the crumpled shapes hunched on barstools. People moving towards the exit. How late was it?
"No, I won't. What did you mean by it?"
"Well, look at Sharleen Spiteri, that singer from Texas. She's androgynous looking."
"Oh." Her shoulders relaxed a little. "But she's beautiful."
Then time speeded up again. I tried to change the subject but somehow she always managed to drag it back to this topic.
"All right. I heard you the first time."
And soon we entered one of those drunken rows that are violent without really being about anything. I was so drunk by now—we had since moved on to brandy—I was past caring.
"You're the one who's fucked up, not me."
"Yes," I said, chuckling. "You're probably right."
Then I remember being out in the street, with my arm slipped through hers, her face ghostly under the street lamps, a stream of abuse flowing from her mouth. Me, numb, leaning against her lean frame, wishing that someone would take me home, make me some cocoa and let me slip into a deep, dreamless sleep. Instead, I found myself following her up some stairs, swaying unsteadily along the corridor of a moving bus.
"You need to come home with me," she was saying. "I don't think you should be alone tonight. I'm frightened you'll try and harm yourself."
"Have I given you that impression?"
"Yes. When we get back to my place we'll thrash things out. You've got a lot of problems to deal with." I collapsed on a double seat as the bus rounded a curve, and she fell against me. "You must stay the night. Not in my bed, of course."
"Of course." I pressed my fingers to my throbbing temples.
"About me. I bet you'd like to sleep with me, then the next morning you'd probably clear off before I woke up." She jabbered on, her white profile stark against the grimy window of the bus and the night beyond it. She poked my chest. "That's what I mean about you. You treat people like … objects. You have your way and then discard them."
How wrong she was. No one had attracted me in months. Before that I'd had a spate of frantic promiscuity, a reaction against the period of monogamy with Daniel.
Her words no longer registered, and yet, thrillingly, something in me, long dormant, was pulsing into life. It was a desire to do something, something rather nasty to Paula. My palms began to tingle in anticipation and I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat, knowing that I was going to have sex with her, whether she liked it or not.
Soon we were at her house. She started to make coffee, then abandoned the task, turning to me to say, "God, I'm bushed. Maybe we can talk in the morning?"
"Sure," I said. "Whatever. Where do you want me to sleep?"
"Sleep? Oh yes," she said nervously, her hand going up to her throat. "I'll show you the spare room."
It seemed to take forever for her to stretch a white sheet onto the bed, to tuck it in neatly and then smooth it out, until finally it was perfectly flat. She had taken off her jacket and her small breasts, braless, were squashed under her white Lycra t-shirt.
She hesitated, pushed back her hair. What was she waiting for?
"Well, goodnight," I said, sitting down on the bed and pulling off my shoes.
She gave me a last wide-eyed look as my hand came to rest on my belt, then scurried out of the room.
I undressed and slipped under the covers. The bravado that I had felt in the bus had evaporated. She had said that her lodger, Steve, was asleep in another room. It was probably best to abandon the whole plan.
I touched myself between the legs. My pussy felt hot but also numb. I ought to go to sleep. I tried to block out the memories of the evening that rushed in, the jumble of pointless conversation, the white blur of the street lights that had formed a jagged line as we'd rode on the top deck of the bus.
I slept, or at least I think I did, but it could have been for minutes or hours. Looking down, I saw that I had flung off the blankets. The dawn was filtering through the blinds. In the half-light I saw my belt buckle glisten on the floor.
Staring at the ceiling, my eyes dry, my heart pounding, I decided that I would chance it. If she were to let out a bloodcurdling scream, then so be it.
I picked up the belt, and without thinking what I was going to do with it, moved towards the door. I had never slept with a woman. I had never wanted to, until now. There was something about her. Just the thought of her hand fluttering up to her white throat suddenly made my cunt throb into life.
I pushed open the door to her bedroom. I had expected her to be asleep, but I soon saw her eyes look at me and grow wide with fright. I hesitated. What was I doing here?
Stepping forward, I tried to keep my face impassive as I slid under her duvet. She didn't move away and I felt her against me. Her skin felt like cashmere, soft and covered in a fuzzy down. She tensed.
I put my hand over her mouth, but she made no move to scream so I pulled it away.
"You know I can't," she said, matter of factly.
"Yes. I know." I kissed her neck, then pushing her shoulders into the bed, kissed her hard on the mouth.
"No!" She turned her head away. I grabbed hold of her hair and yanked it. She began to whimper, but it was so feeble it was ridiculous. Why didn't she simply push me off?
First we went at it like two clumsy puppies, breasts squashed together, biting at each other's flesh, tearing skin with fingernails, we rolled all over the bed until I faced her cunt, and I lapped at it until she came, then she reciprocated, but all this was just a prelude, I could sense it, for something that she wanted to happen, yet could not articulate.
"Are you happy now?" she whispered, her neck all wet with sweat.
"No," I said. "I'm not quite finished with you yet." I'd come, and my body still reverberated, craven, wanting more.
"I think you've done quite enough …" My hand closed around the belt and I hit her with it, softly at first, on her breasts, along the coltish length of her thighs. I felt the tension building up in my cunt, and all the sensations tumbling into each other. I no longer knew what I was doing. Now I turned her over, and the belt slipped in my sweaty palm, so that the belt buckle grazed her buttocks as she began to shout, "No! I don't want to," all the time arching her body off the bed, to meet the belt, as it whipped across her.
I whipped her with a fury. I was merciless. I didn't care what I was doing and still she screamed "No!" so loudly that I began to doubt her story that there was a man in the house.
I came to out of my trance and looked down at her pulverized backside. There were streaks of blood on the white flesh. I put my mouth down and licked her clean of blood. I felt so very tired. Too tired to come.
When I woke up she was still asleep. The ferocity that had possessed me, that had made me mark her with my belt had dissipated. Despite my hangover I felt a strange peace lying heavy in my limbs.
I went to the bathroom and took a shower. I had caked blood under my nails. Suddenly I felt a restlessness, a need to be gone.
I pushed open the door to her room. She was sprawled across the bed, wrapped tightly in a white sheet. I picked up my belt, then went into the other room to dress.
I left the house before she woke up. Just like she said I would.
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She's marked for eternity by her Master.
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Favorited by flimsygirl , Hunii , babeonback and 12 others
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pet stretched in her bed...still in a daze from the night before...her eyes are dreamy, and she smiles quietly ~ incredibly happy that she is not with a new Owner...she belongs to her Master ~ and she did what He asked of her. She passed His tests with flying colours ~ and therefore the shock is heavy in her as His voice snaps from the chamber:
Pet jumps out of bed the moment she hears His voice...it is different today. It has an evil sound to it...and she is truly hesitant for the first time. Thinking that the life of a slave may be so much harder than she first thought it would be.
She walks quickly across the bedroom floor – enters the chamber and kneels at His feet. Her legs opens widely – and reveals a soaking wet sex...He bends, and grabs her hair...yanking her head back...staring coldly at her...what is this I hear, PET...He hisses...
~pet's heart sinks in her...I have no idea what You have heard, Mas...Master?~
GOD...she is scared...what has happened...
He bends her head more and more...and suddenly He bites her neck hard...His teeth grips around her throat, and she gasps in white fear...but she does not move...or even try to struggle...
His bite loosens...but His grasp of her hair is still hard...and painful...
pet shivers...and when He locks eyes with her...she finds all the strength she has inside to answer Him...I have done nothing to offend You, Master ...my love is too big for that...but I will accept ANY punishment You will grace upon me...if You feel I have done wrong.
His heart softens...but His eyes remains cold...He is so turned on by her submission, that He wants to ravage her there on the floor...now...but He controls Himself...and sends her to the floor with a hard slap to her face...she falls hard...and now she loses it...she cries in deep pain...never have Master hit her in her face before...and she cries helplessly...cursing her weakness for showing her how she feels right now...her body shakes and shivers under her despair...
He watches her quietly...never has He loved her more than now...He knows she has done nothing wrong ~ He is just eager to test her loyalty to Him...and where she will go...He grabs her hair...and simply pulls her up across His lap...lay still, bitch!! He snarls...and she tries her very best to obey...but the fear has taken control of her this time ~ because she does not know what she has done to trigger this much anger...His hand lands on her ass again and again ~ without any mercy...her eyes dries up from the shock...but she takes the pain...better to feel pain that nothing...her ass burns like fire now...and her sex is dripping...she hates the pain...she fights within herself...but finally ~ her body can not take anymore ~ her mind is swimming...and she screams out her love for Him...her fears...her surrender...MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTER!!
His hand is lifted again...but this time He has a riding crop in it. and it dances on her lower back...her thighs...and her ass...she is beyond pain now...she is nauseous – and her head hangs down...and she is like a rag doll on His lap...the pain is incredible...and she bites her lip until she draws blood to avoid screaming again...but she can not hold back ~ the pain is too great and another sore cry fills the very core of His soul...
Yet...He keeps on spanking her...the crop is biting into her flesh...and her mind is whirling around...trying to understand...but still loving Him so very, very deeply ~ accepting that she needs this...because He in His wisdom and domination over her is doing it...
A soft, red darkness wraps around her now...and she passes out on His lap...hanging there without any movement...only her slow breath telling Him that she is unconscious...
He cries now...heavy tears rolls down His cheeks as He scoops her into His arms...and carries her to His bed ~ for the very first time...He places her there on her tummy. Ties her wrists, and stretches her arms above her head...then He secures her ankles...legs wide apart, with a pillow under her...lifting her ass high up for Him...
She moans softly...and blinks a few time...a little yelp touches Him deeply as He kneels behind her. And between her legs...
She wakes up now...and freezes when she realizes she is on a bed ~ tied. Her body is burning still from the endless spanking...and her voice...filled with fear...whispers only one word...
His answer is rough...His hand grabs her hair...yanking her head back ~ and in one swift move, His cock is buried deep into her ass...she screams...and her eyes glazes over...panic has taken her...but she fights to keep calm for Him...even though her tight ass is so painfully opened by Him...He takes her hard and violently...and little by little her ass gets used to Him...and she lifts against Him...He looks into her eyes as He fucks her harder than ever before...using her...as the worthless toy she is...He whispers into her ear...WHO OWNS YOU, SLUT??
~WHO TAKES YOU AS HE PLEASES, SLAVE!?~
He growls now...and both His hands grabs her tits as He lays on top of her...fucking that little ass so hard and deep...His hands pinches her nipples hard...and her sex twitches ... as well as her ass...He feels the climax build in her...and He talks to her...with a cold...cold voice...CUM, bitch...and You will regret it deeply...
pet's body tenses...her nails sinks into her palms...being taken so roughly by the One she adores...but now fears...her sex drips...and Master stops for a second...shoving a huge dildo into her...she screams again and again...the dildo is so big, and it stretches her more than she would believe was possible...she is fucked hard in her sex...HIS sex...and her ass...but suddenly He pulls out...and presses Himself in between the head posts and her head...she KNOWS what is coming...the one thing she has told Him she can not do...
she cries like a baby now...helpless tears making her sorry little face wet...and He yells...LOOK AT ME, SLUT!!
Her eyes lifts...and to His amazement and sweet joy ~ they are filled with deep love for Him...and her mouth opens wide...to take Him in...
He grabs His cock...and pushes it closer...to see what she will d
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