I'm the new girl on the team. Squad. I don't even know what to call it yet. I've heard things about these girls, and when they walk by me in the locker room I can believe every single thing.
I'm on the bench in my uniform, lacing my sneakers like I've been told. I'm trying to hold it together while they all walk in and surround me. Four seniors and I'm the new prey. As I stare into the tongue of my shoe so intensely you would expect it to begin wagging, they cross their arms. One by one they interlace their tight, muscled arms and drop them onto their chest. I can't breathe.
I heard with one girl they took her shoes and tied them to the top of the flag pole. Then they made her climb up the pole to get them.
They've been doing this every year since they were sophomores on the team. They would destroy the freshmen girls on the team, without shame or pity or regret. The girl last year had naked pictures of herself which she had sent to her boyfriend plastered all over the school. I knew what I was getting into when I joined.
"You're taking your time with that shoe. Are you stupid or something?"
I shook my head and placed my foot square on the floor, keeping my gaze lowered.
"You know why we're here, don't you?"
I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes, my lashes damming them up only for so long.
"And you're afraid, aren't you, Princess?"
I nodded again. Better to just be honest with them, and realistic about my fate.
"You're a pathetic little cunt, aren't you?"
I nodded yet again. I could hear their perfect pink lips sliding over their capped teeth as they all smiled. The other girls had been work in previous years, trying to break something that refused to crack. This was just going to be pure fun.
No work, all icing.
"Get on your knees." I lowered myself swiftly onto the floor, never lifting my gaze. The thick polyester of the uniform itched. It felt claustrophobic to wear, tight on my chest in a way that made me want to stop breathing for comfort.
I can hear them talking, debating in hushed tones. I hear lockers open and laughter begin and I wonder what I'm in for.
The oldest one grabs me by the throat and pulls me to my feet, her fingers pressing tightly, cutting off my air and blood. I cough a little, sputtering onto her arm, which she barely notices. If I didn't think she was a bitch before...
I look up into her eyes and she lets go of my throat only to slap me across the face, her nails curling a bit to leave red claw marks behind. I gasp a little, not even reach up to feel if I'm bleeding. I will simply see the red droplets on my crisp white uniform later and have to explain them away.
"Don't fucking look at me. You don't deserve it. Eyes down, brat."
My eyes hit the floor and another one grabs my arms, pulling them behind. She has full tits and long hair in a ponytail which is perched on the back of her head in a purple ribbon. My arms are pressing into her tits, and I can feel her hips press into my ass, which is pushing back, away from the older blond one.
Then they begin. Each one comes up and one by one they begin to slap, spit, and pull my hair. As the one with soft tits holds me back, they tell me to open my mouth and spit. They pull my hair to the side and bite my neck so hard I scream. They pull up my shirt and slap my tits back and forth, pinching the nipples until they're red and swollen. And finally when they've gone through the line-up, the blond one comes back and reaches underneath my skirt. Her hand slides up between my legs and pushes my panties out of the way in the most delicate move she's made yet. And just as delicate as she was in that moment, she is just as rough in the next. She shoves her fingers into my cunt roughly, nails scraping as she enters me. I whimper.
"Aww, the little bitch is fucking wet. What a fucking brat, she's actually enjoying this."
They all smile. I can feel it.
"Lets put her to good use, ladies."
The one behind me lets go of my arms and I collapse a bit, blood rushing back to where there was numbness. they push me onto all fours on the bench and the blond sits in front of me, shoving two fingers into my mouth. "Suck" she says firmly, without a hint of inhibition. I do as she says, licking and sucking those fingers as if it were going to get me out of this, but I know better.
I feel a hand on my forehead lifting up my head and I can only glance down and see someone put a thick purple strap-on in the blonde's outstretched hand. The blonde's fingers hold down my jaw and she slowly slides it into my mouth. "Suck it, Princess." Her voice is firm and I do, with all my effort and energy.
"Good girl. You're such a good girl for me, aren't you?" I nod, eagerly showing her how deep I can take it, how much I can lap, as wetness pools at the corner of my mouth and begins to run down my chin.
I feel my skirt being pushed up. Someone pushes open my knees, which can barely balance on the hard, wooden bench already. I struggle to focus on the cock in my mouth while they push and pull me from behind. She sees me waiver and my eyes falter.
"Stay with me, Princess."
I stare at her and then look down again, focusing on the hard rubber in my mouth. I suck it, lips running up and down over the purple sparkles.
And then I feel it. They pull down my panties and one of the other girls, thick strap on tied between her legs, begins to fuck me. Hard. She pushes in without hesitation, and I gasp. She holds onto my hips to steady both of us, her fingers gripping and squeezing and holding tightly. She is fucking me ruthlessly, pounding my tight, virgin cunt. The blond keeps telling me to stay with her, to ignore the wetness, the searing, tearing of my slit. I want to call them cunts and bitches and fucking pieces of shit, but I know they would only fuck harder, so I simply choke on the cock in my mouth.
The blond grabs my hair in one hand and pulls my head back. "If you can cum for me, I'll let you go, Princess." I nod, focusing on the cock in my pussy. She pulls the one from my mouth and I only now realize how little I've been breathing. I gasp for full breaths, desperate to expand my lungs.
She stands in front of my, pulling up her skirt and pulling down her panties and shoves her cunt in my face. I lick, covering my face with her wetness. I ache to lick her better, harder, more. I run my tongue up and down her clit, sucking with everything I have left as I am pounded from behind.
I strain against both of them, pushing more, twisting and bobbing back and fourth as I whimper into her pussy. I ache and strain and pull and push. The blond puts a hand on the back of my head and pulls me into her cunt harder. I lick as she pushes against my face. I can feel her cum dripping down my chin as I tighten my pussy. The blond makes a gesture and another girl comes over and begins to rub my clit.
This is enough for me. I buck wildly, my head held tight by the blond, and cum in front of them, a cock shoved all the way inside me. I side it wildly, bucking and screaming and panting and begging.
When I am finished I remain on all fours, breathing heavily. The blond roughs up my hair a little, smiling and pulling her skirt back down. She lifts my chin up and I look up at her. My mouth is covered in her cum, and I breathe heavily in her hand.
"Good girl. You're going to be fine."
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
I think she likes me
I think I have a gorgeous cunt. I really do. I think it's beautiful. My clit is larger than most, and is far too often swollen even larger, making sure I can feel it when I walk. I get sopping wet sometimes, and love the pressure on my clit to the point that I'm perfectly comfortable squeezing my legs together.
One thing I love to do, and do quite often, is settle in to fuck myself. I use it as a treat, I use it as a punishment, I use it as a distraction. Long story short: I love pleasure as much as everyone else. And I don't express much self-control over it.
I also love fucking myself in front of people. I like to show off, what can I say?
My favorite is to fuck myself in front of a long haired femme top. Mostly because she's never stunned like a lot of men or butches. She licks her lips, she shifts in her chair, which is the only way I know she likes what she sees.
She has my ankles tied back, legs spread, knees in the air. She starts with my arms tied down as well, leaning in to blow on my clit softly. I whimper, but she is relentless. Her eyes scan over me. She smiles as I whimper a little harder, starting to whine. I could fight harder to keep my mouth shut, but she's not going to give me even the relief of a slap across my pussy. She's just going to smile, laugh at me a little.
She leans in, shifting her glasses snugly on her nose, and leans over, and I think she's going to blow on my swollen, over ripe clit but she doesn't. She simply waits. Slowly, her fingers work the knots on the rope around my wrist. I have one hand free, but I'm too nervous to move my hand.
She leans back, lighting a cigarette. "Touch yourself, pretty girl."
I nod, immediately putting two fingers on my clit, rubbing it back and forth up and down. I am wet. I can feel it dripping down, over my ass. I am too wet and am having trouble getting the rough friction I want desperately right now. I put my hand to my tongue, licking my fingers clean, and immediately put them to my clit.
She nods approvingly as my fingers move roughly over my clit. I moan louder, breathing faster, harder. My hips move against my fingers, grinding, circling. She takes my hand, pulling it to my side and tying it back down where it was. I cry out, and I almost feel tears start to well. I struggle not to call her names.
"Please, please, please" I whisper over and over. She runs her hands over my inner thighs and goosebumps perk up where her hands have been. My pussy aches. I am desperate for her fingers.
"I want to see how wet you are, pretty girl." I fight back a gleeful smile. Her fingers slide inside me with ease and she begins to fuck. I gasp, I writhe, I arch against her as she slides in a third finger and eventually a fourth. My cunt hurts, stretched wide open. I feel like her fingers are ripping me apart and I beg her not to stop.
"You're such a good girl for me." I nod, whimpering out a thank you. "You want me to stop?" I shake my head, crying out in amorphous sobs. "You're going to take it for me, then."
I nod and she lets my hand go again. Immediately it is on my clit, raking nails over my cunt, trying desperately to get enough friction to cum. My hips push against her fingers, pushing harder and harder, feeling her deeper inside me. Her fingers are stretching me. I ache.
I tense around her and cry out, cumming hard over her fingers and hand. With my arm and legs still tied back I can't tense and simply cry out louder, tense my cunt harder. I cum with everything I have, until I almost can't breathe.
I tremble as she unties me, curling onto her lap and stroking my hair.
One thing I love to do, and do quite often, is settle in to fuck myself. I use it as a treat, I use it as a punishment, I use it as a distraction. Long story short: I love pleasure as much as everyone else. And I don't express much self-control over it.
I also love fucking myself in front of people. I like to show off, what can I say?
My favorite is to fuck myself in front of a long haired femme top. Mostly because she's never stunned like a lot of men or butches. She licks her lips, she shifts in her chair, which is the only way I know she likes what she sees.
She has my ankles tied back, legs spread, knees in the air. She starts with my arms tied down as well, leaning in to blow on my clit softly. I whimper, but she is relentless. Her eyes scan over me. She smiles as I whimper a little harder, starting to whine. I could fight harder to keep my mouth shut, but she's not going to give me even the relief of a slap across my pussy. She's just going to smile, laugh at me a little.
She leans in, shifting her glasses snugly on her nose, and leans over, and I think she's going to blow on my swollen, over ripe clit but she doesn't. She simply waits. Slowly, her fingers work the knots on the rope around my wrist. I have one hand free, but I'm too nervous to move my hand.
She leans back, lighting a cigarette. "Touch yourself, pretty girl."
I nod, immediately putting two fingers on my clit, rubbing it back and forth up and down. I am wet. I can feel it dripping down, over my ass. I am too wet and am having trouble getting the rough friction I want desperately right now. I put my hand to my tongue, licking my fingers clean, and immediately put them to my clit.
She nods approvingly as my fingers move roughly over my clit. I moan louder, breathing faster, harder. My hips move against my fingers, grinding, circling. She takes my hand, pulling it to my side and tying it back down where it was. I cry out, and I almost feel tears start to well. I struggle not to call her names.
"Please, please, please" I whisper over and over. She runs her hands over my inner thighs and goosebumps perk up where her hands have been. My pussy aches. I am desperate for her fingers.
"I want to see how wet you are, pretty girl." I fight back a gleeful smile. Her fingers slide inside me with ease and she begins to fuck. I gasp, I writhe, I arch against her as she slides in a third finger and eventually a fourth. My cunt hurts, stretched wide open. I feel like her fingers are ripping me apart and I beg her not to stop.
"You're such a good girl for me." I nod, whimpering out a thank you. "You want me to stop?" I shake my head, crying out in amorphous sobs. "You're going to take it for me, then."
I nod and she lets my hand go again. Immediately it is on my clit, raking nails over my cunt, trying desperately to get enough friction to cum. My hips push against her fingers, pushing harder and harder, feeling her deeper inside me. Her fingers are stretching me. I ache.
I tense around her and cry out, cumming hard over her fingers and hand. With my arm and legs still tied back I can't tense and simply cry out louder, tense my cunt harder. I cum with everything I have, until I almost can't breathe.
I tremble as she unties me, curling onto her lap and stroking my hair.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Class: Part 1
We've crossed paths numerous times at this point. We smile, and have short conversations which are mundane enough to be re-had once or twice a week. But neither of us is there for the conversation. But there's that moment of electricity that runs right to your clit.
She's my height, with amazing curves. Her eyes are heavily lined, and stun the delicacy of the rest of her features. Her voice is rich without being heavy, and until I met her, I had a stark distaste for German accents.
I hate the class I'm sitting in right now. It takes all my focus, all my will to stay awake, and I don't even bother trying to feel engaged. I stopped taking notes weeks ago, and now create lists and elaborate doodles. I have tricks to keep myself awake. I chew epic wads of gum, the more potent the better. I suck on hard candy and wait for the faintest rush of sugar, which rarely comes anymore. I even scratch and pinch the soft tissue between my fingers and on my wrists and inner thighs hoping that the pain will perk up my energy. I stop midway through every class and get up to walk to the bathroom. I take a few minutes, getting a sip of water, meandering down the hall.
Each time I wander I pass the one class which has an all glass front, save the metal beams holding the floor-to-ceiling panes. The room is a small classroom, with a central table and 15 or so chairs surrounding it. I have one class a week in that room and have to sit on the side which keeps my back to the window or else I would never be able to concentrate.
As I walk by the window I see her in there, watching the window, just as distracted as I would be. I see her eyes dart to me and a smile start to creep onto her face. She fights her expressions, struggling to go unnoticed. Her black-lined eyes stare, narrow, and smile all on their own. Her face is turned towards the professor, but she can't stop glancing.
She's fucking gorgeous. More femme than I ever go for, but she looks like she would take on a fist fight as quickly as I would.
I have now stopped walking, and slowly my body towards the window. As soon as I smile at her, I know I have her. She can't stop looking up at me.
I tilt my head slightly and wink. She is struggling not to giggle, nervous.
I motion for her to follow me and she hesitates. Her cheeks are starting to burn. I shrug, and begin to turn away when I see her quietly stand, nudging her chair back. I begin walking towards the bathroom. It's not only late, but between when classes begin and end so it'll be empty. I hear her close behind, her steps moving faster to catch up with me.
By the time I get to the bathroom she is right behind me. We walk in and the door closes and it is a torrent of mouths. I shove her against the door, my lips on hers, her tongue between my lips, my hand tight in her hair. The kisses are wet, furious. My pussy is warm, empty.
Her hands are on my hips, and they grip tightly, pulling my hips against hers. As hard as I have pushed her into the door she shoves up against the wall. Her hands move under the shirt, kneading my tits hard. I hope they bruise. The way her fingers pull and squeeze my nipples, I know she is not intending to give me pleasure so much as leave her mark on me.
I buck my hips against her hard, just once and she pulls off my mouth to groan. I take the opportunity and move my mouth to the crook of her shoulder. I begin by sucking and move to biting quickly. We only have a few minutes before we both have to get back. I suck on her neck, teeth sinking in a little deeper each time. She grabs my hips again and pushing back against me, pinning me into the wall.
My panties are soaked, and my clit is starting to ache. I want her mouth on it.
My hand finally moves between her legs, working her cunt through her jeans. I can already feel how damp she in through the thick fabric. She grinds into my hand and pushes up my shirt to put her mouth on my nipples.
I work her pussy hard, the base of my hand grinding, feeling her pumping against me. She begins to moan, tongue rolling over my nipple as she opens her mouth to growl. My hands move to unbutton her pants, yanking them down just slightly.
Realizing she has lost the upper hand she grabs my hair, pulling me to the sink. She bents me over and pulls up my skirt. I step my legs open and she puts her hand between my legs, pushing my underwear aside to rub my clit. I moan loudly and push against her hand.
Her fingers find my pussy and push inside with ease. Her hand goes to my hair and she pulls my head back, forcing me to arch my back as she fucks me harder and harder. I cry out a little louder and she growl to shut up.
She lets go of my hair and shoves a hand inside her jeans, working her own clit furiously. As she continues to work my cunt I feel her bucking against my ass, pushing her own fingers harder against her clit.
I grind harder against her, pushing back as hard as I can. I feel myself tense around her fingers, whimpering. She feels it too, and pulls her fingers out. I turn, angry, and she grabs my hair again. I stand and she tugs on my hair, pulling me into the stall. She shoves me against the wall and pulls my skirt up, getting down on her knees. I brace my other leg against the wall and her mouth goes to my cunt, sucking on my clit.
I groan, gripping her hair to pull her mouth harder against me. My hand wraps around the back of her head, and I feel tongue rolling over my clit, back and forth, flicking it harder each time. I grind against her face and her hand buries itself back in her pussy. She fucks herself hard, pushing against her own hand as her mouth moves on my clit. She is sucking, nibbling, and I pull her harder into my cunt. I push against her mouth.
While one hand is in her cunt, her other moves to finger me hard, three fingers pounding inside of me. I feel my cunt tighten around her fingers and I am desperate to cum. I want to cum all over her mouth. Her fingers pound as she sucks harder on my clit.
I cum, hard, pulling her harder into my cunt, my cum dripping down over her face, into her mouth and down her chin. She sucks on my pussy, licking as I cum against her. I cry out, grinding and moaning and gasping.
She shrinks back, gasping. She stands, wiping her mouth and pulling her hand out of her pants. I take her hand, leaning down to suck her fingers clean. She is breathless and we still don't speak, preferring silence and heavy breathing and palpitating hearts.
I pull my skirt down. I kiss her one more time. I go back to class flushed.
She's my height, with amazing curves. Her eyes are heavily lined, and stun the delicacy of the rest of her features. Her voice is rich without being heavy, and until I met her, I had a stark distaste for German accents.
I hate the class I'm sitting in right now. It takes all my focus, all my will to stay awake, and I don't even bother trying to feel engaged. I stopped taking notes weeks ago, and now create lists and elaborate doodles. I have tricks to keep myself awake. I chew epic wads of gum, the more potent the better. I suck on hard candy and wait for the faintest rush of sugar, which rarely comes anymore. I even scratch and pinch the soft tissue between my fingers and on my wrists and inner thighs hoping that the pain will perk up my energy. I stop midway through every class and get up to walk to the bathroom. I take a few minutes, getting a sip of water, meandering down the hall.
Each time I wander I pass the one class which has an all glass front, save the metal beams holding the floor-to-ceiling panes. The room is a small classroom, with a central table and 15 or so chairs surrounding it. I have one class a week in that room and have to sit on the side which keeps my back to the window or else I would never be able to concentrate.
As I walk by the window I see her in there, watching the window, just as distracted as I would be. I see her eyes dart to me and a smile start to creep onto her face. She fights her expressions, struggling to go unnoticed. Her black-lined eyes stare, narrow, and smile all on their own. Her face is turned towards the professor, but she can't stop glancing.
She's fucking gorgeous. More femme than I ever go for, but she looks like she would take on a fist fight as quickly as I would.
I have now stopped walking, and slowly my body towards the window. As soon as I smile at her, I know I have her. She can't stop looking up at me.
I tilt my head slightly and wink. She is struggling not to giggle, nervous.
I motion for her to follow me and she hesitates. Her cheeks are starting to burn. I shrug, and begin to turn away when I see her quietly stand, nudging her chair back. I begin walking towards the bathroom. It's not only late, but between when classes begin and end so it'll be empty. I hear her close behind, her steps moving faster to catch up with me.
By the time I get to the bathroom she is right behind me. We walk in and the door closes and it is a torrent of mouths. I shove her against the door, my lips on hers, her tongue between my lips, my hand tight in her hair. The kisses are wet, furious. My pussy is warm, empty.
Her hands are on my hips, and they grip tightly, pulling my hips against hers. As hard as I have pushed her into the door she shoves up against the wall. Her hands move under the shirt, kneading my tits hard. I hope they bruise. The way her fingers pull and squeeze my nipples, I know she is not intending to give me pleasure so much as leave her mark on me.
I buck my hips against her hard, just once and she pulls off my mouth to groan. I take the opportunity and move my mouth to the crook of her shoulder. I begin by sucking and move to biting quickly. We only have a few minutes before we both have to get back. I suck on her neck, teeth sinking in a little deeper each time. She grabs my hips again and pushing back against me, pinning me into the wall.
My panties are soaked, and my clit is starting to ache. I want her mouth on it.
My hand finally moves between her legs, working her cunt through her jeans. I can already feel how damp she in through the thick fabric. She grinds into my hand and pushes up my shirt to put her mouth on my nipples.
I work her pussy hard, the base of my hand grinding, feeling her pumping against me. She begins to moan, tongue rolling over my nipple as she opens her mouth to growl. My hands move to unbutton her pants, yanking them down just slightly.
Realizing she has lost the upper hand she grabs my hair, pulling me to the sink. She bents me over and pulls up my skirt. I step my legs open and she puts her hand between my legs, pushing my underwear aside to rub my clit. I moan loudly and push against her hand.
Her fingers find my pussy and push inside with ease. Her hand goes to my hair and she pulls my head back, forcing me to arch my back as she fucks me harder and harder. I cry out a little louder and she growl to shut up.
She lets go of my hair and shoves a hand inside her jeans, working her own clit furiously. As she continues to work my cunt I feel her bucking against my ass, pushing her own fingers harder against her clit.
I grind harder against her, pushing back as hard as I can. I feel myself tense around her fingers, whimpering. She feels it too, and pulls her fingers out. I turn, angry, and she grabs my hair again. I stand and she tugs on my hair, pulling me into the stall. She shoves me against the wall and pulls my skirt up, getting down on her knees. I brace my other leg against the wall and her mouth goes to my cunt, sucking on my clit.
I groan, gripping her hair to pull her mouth harder against me. My hand wraps around the back of her head, and I feel tongue rolling over my clit, back and forth, flicking it harder each time. I grind against her face and her hand buries itself back in her pussy. She fucks herself hard, pushing against her own hand as her mouth moves on my clit. She is sucking, nibbling, and I pull her harder into my cunt. I push against her mouth.
While one hand is in her cunt, her other moves to finger me hard, three fingers pounding inside of me. I feel my cunt tighten around her fingers and I am desperate to cum. I want to cum all over her mouth. Her fingers pound as she sucks harder on my clit.
I cum, hard, pulling her harder into my cunt, my cum dripping down over her face, into her mouth and down her chin. She sucks on my pussy, licking as I cum against her. I cry out, grinding and moaning and gasping.
She shrinks back, gasping. She stands, wiping her mouth and pulling her hand out of her pants. I take her hand, leaning down to suck her fingers clean. She is breathless and we still don't speak, preferring silence and heavy breathing and palpitating hearts.
I pull my skirt down. I kiss her one more time. I go back to class flushed.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
I can't tell you how many times I've jerked off to this one.
Four men sit at a small card table. One is my owner, and the three others are friends he can win a great deal of money from. They are gentlemen, drinking whiskey, smoking cigars, sleeves of their button-up shirts rolled up and ties loosened. It is Friday, they have all been paid, and they all seek to win or lose some of it tonight.
I am kneeling on a pillow on the floor next to my owner, silent. I wear a collar around my neck and a chain hangs from the collar. I notice it every time I move, and the slightly sound of the links moving against each other is not something he wants to hear, meaning I stay as frozen as I can. He strokes my head periodically, and I resist the impulse to lean into his hand. It is an absent-minded gesture, and if he hear the clinking, he will notice the affection that the curling of his fingers around my ears feels like. Now and then he lets his hand drop over my face and I kiss his thumb, his palm, the tips of his fingers, knowing how this makes him smile. Other than those small tightening of my lips, forming a kiss and then melting away, I am a statue. I am on my knees, and he has let me sit on my feet and I know what this means. This means he doesn't want me to squirm, to request comfort. I wait.
And in those moments where the drinks are empty, or someone is hungry, I come alive. He tightens his hand over my chain and tugs me up a little. I nod and ask each man if he would like a refill. They are all polite, saying 'thank you' or 'no thank you' in response. I walk off to refill each glass, returning and passing them out, walking slowly around the table and attending to the needs of each player. Once everyone's needs are met, I walk back next to my owner, standing beside him. For my good service, he takes my chin and pulls my face down to meet him, kissing me on the lips. This makes me smile.
I wear a small dress, my ass peeking out from underneath the hem. I have cuffs on my hands, waiting for use like a gun in the first act of a play. My feet are bare, and I am required to walk only on my toes as I serve them. I wobble sometimes, but steady myself each time.
"What was my request, other than your devoted service, while you are at this table?" He says, his lips inches from mine and wet from my tongue.
"To remain wet, Sir."
"Good girl, stand and spread your legs."
I do, my back going straight and sucking in my breath a little as I open my legs, still balanced on my toes. His fingers do not even pretend to tease my inner thighs, as they simply seek to answer: have I done my job?
To his delight and mine, I am still wet, my clit is still swollen. His fingers slowly rub and press over my clit, making my strained thighs tremble. I bite my lip, letting a quiet moan pour out of my mouth.
"Good girl." He stops, pulling the chain for me to bend, and shoving his fingers in my mouth to clean. I suck them eagerly. He pulls his fingers from my lips and kisses me once more. He turns back to the game, pointing to the pillow.
I sit back down, leaning on his leg and chair.
I drift off in my mind, waiting for my cue to move again. I float, trying to remain poised and quiet as I serve.
I hear them laugh and my ears click back to the conversation. "That's fair." He looks down to me, lifting my head, his hand on my chin, pointing across the table with his other hand to a friend in a blue, striped tie. "He's having a bit of a rough game. Go make his night a little better." I nod, standing. He grabs my chain and I stumble a step back. "Crawl."
I get down on my hands and knees, crawling around the table and then underneath, opening his pants. I pull out his cock and begin to stroke it, slowly moving my hand up and down the shaft. I squeeze softly and feel him shift towards me.
I open my mouth and place my lips around his head, licking the slit and just wetting his cock with my mouth. He hear him groan, and can't imagine this will actually improve him game. I wonder if my owner is simply trying to end the game while he is doing well. I continue to lower my mouth, sliding down and lifting back up. Each time I bob on his cock I bring him deeper into my mouth. His hands find the back of my head and squeeze. He has already folded this hand. I smile at my owner's ingenuity. He must have a good hand.
I suck, my hands moving to his balls, teasing them and pulling the skin. He moves up towards my mouth and I suck eagerly, lost in his cock until I hear my owner's voice, and his hands pull the chips into his pile.
"Turn, lets watch her." I lean up a little, but he holds my head down on his cock. He shifts in his chair and my mouth does not leave his cock as he shifts and I shuffle over on my knees. I hear them comment on what a good girl he has, and I know he is swollen with pride. Among other things.
My owner stands, walking over and pulling my hair back. I suck, letting him thrust softly into my mouth. "Let him use your mouth, but your lips are mine."
He pulls his cock out of my mouth and I kneel, opening my mouth as wide as I can and sticking out my tongue. He comes back, rubbing the tip of his cock on my tongue, stroking his cock into my mouth. I hold my arms behind my back, trying to look up at him from my knees. Spit drips from my mouth, making a bee-line for the floor in front of my knees.
My owner holds my hair, keeping my face steady while his friend slaps his cock on my outstretched tongue. My owner nods to another one of his friends to come over. They whisper, and he leaves and returns with a roll of tape. They roughly fold my arms behind me, hands holding elbows, and tape my forearms together, letting me know that there will be nothing but misery when they pull the tape off. Spit continues to drip off my tongue as precum begins to drip onto it.
They stand me up, and I lift to my toes. My owner hands my leash off to one of his other friends. "Be my guest," he says.
His friend leads me a few steps and they gather the glasses, coated in icy water and still full of ice and place them in either hand. My short fingers struggle to hold multiple glasses.
They pull down my dress to just under my breasts, pulling on the nipples until they are rigid and just beginning to get tender. They begin to slap my tits and I whimper, making them each smile to himself. They smack each over and over, my nipples becoming more and more sensitive. Red hand prints begin to appear on my skin and I watch one of his friends walk behind me. The fingers of one hand trail over my hip while the other raises and comes down in a pop. I jerk forward, gripping the glasses as tight as I can. I barely stumbling towards the other one slapping my breasts back and forth and his fingers hit my breast bone, making me gasp.
They continue to strike, ignoring the other and giving me no rhythm to brace for. I am simply holding my breath. One hand comes down hard on my ass, one cheek and then the other. I watch as his third friend walks behind me and in a full wallop two hands come down on my ass. I stumble completely forward, falling off my toes for the first time that night and letting the glasses slip from my hands.
Everyone stops and all I can hear is my breath. Tears well in my eyes and I want to beg forgiveness of my owner. I have failed him. He tried to show was a perfect girl I was and I have failed him. I am devastated.
They speak but I can barely make out what they say. My mind is reeling.
"Lay down on your back." I do. They move slowly, walking around me. Two kneel beside me, each grabbing a leg. They are such kind men, they push back my legs, spreading them. My pussy is exposed, opened for them.
"Beautiful" says the one in the blue tie.
"You have a lovely girl, here," says another wearing glasses.
I can feel ice and cold whiskey on my back. My owner nods to the one in the red tie, who comes to the front. He taps one of the men holding my legs back and I sense they have a plan for me. I watch as the one in the red tie unzips his hands and pulls out his cock. He strokes it a few times before sliding it inside my pussy with a groan.
"Excellent little cunt you have here."
My owner takes his thumb and begins to work my clit, pulling and teasing it. I arch, still laying on my folded arms, and writhe against the two men fucking me so effortlessly right now. And then I feel it.
The tip of a thin, relentless cane begins to come down on the bottoms of my feet. This will teach me to fall off of my toes. I wiggle and struggle but they hold me steady as the red tie's cock continues to thrust inside me, pushing all the way in and pulling out.
"Would you like to try her?" He nods to the gentleman in the glasses, who has yet to put his cock anywhere near me.
The caning is rendering my feet numb. I try to restrain myself from flexing my foot, leaving each pointed with the soles up and read for my discipline. It will be days before I can walk comfortably as I feel white heat moving towards numbness.
He nods, thanking my owner for his generosity. The man with the red tie continues to fuck me, thrusting harder and faster until he is satisfied with his sampling of my pussy. He places his cock back in his pants and they exchange places.
The man with the red tie has a thicker cock, and does not bother to stroke himself before thrusting deeply inside me. I cry out, fighting so hard they almost let go of my legs. My arms feel as if they are about to fall out of their sockets, strained behind my back.
He fucks me harder than the other one, but my owner's fingers on my clit are relentless. I squirm harder, fighting to pull back. My pussy feel so tender I want to explode, but all I can do is scream and whimper and cry out.
"Would you like her to cum on your cock?" The gentleman with the glasses nods, thanking my owner again. My owner turns back to me and stops the caning of my feet, where the skin is threatening to split open. "Show them how good of a girl you are."
I nod, eyes squeezed shut, black mascara tears beginning to run down my cheeks.
The man's thick cock slows, pushing in and out in a more quiet, languid manner. My owner's fingers move harder on my clit, flicking back and forth as I drip onto the floor underneath me.
They work slowly, building faster, pushing harder, thrusting deep into my cunt. My cries and screams turn to moans, gasps. I begin to beg, pleading with them not to stop. Each focuses on his part, but each work in tandem. Fingers and mouths graze my thighs, leaving lines and gaps of electricity in their wake.
Each plays his part perfectly, and then together. Each deep thrust is matched with the whir on my clit. I am moaning and they are relentless. I fight, I struggle, but I beg to cum.
"No. Wait."
I nod, struggling as hard as I can. This is the largest fight I have hand to undertake in years.
"Please, please, Sir. Please, I can't wait." I cry out more and he looks at me, his face serene, his fingers destroying my clit.
"Did you try to be a good girl tonight?"
I nod, tears welling in my eyes.
"Did you try your hardest?"
I nod harder, squeezing my eyes, black tears spilling out on either side.
"Are you going to cum hard for me?"
I nod, opening my eyes, pushing back against the man's cock, against my owner's fingers, against my own body which aches to cum. I stare him in the eyes, letting him know of my sincerity, my desperation.
"Then cum for me."
I nod and close my eyes, screaming, bucking wildly. They hold my legs tighter, pinning them back as a writhe and struggle. I watch them flex, taking all of them just to hold me down. I cum so hard I fear I may black out, every ounce of tension exploding out of me in a long, sustained, painful orgasm.
I collapse on the floor and they mill about, wiping their brows and exchanging chips for real money. They all make small talk for a few more minutes and collect their things, which I have laid out so nicely on the bed.
My owner lifts me and I am dazed as scissors take off the black tape, and my arms are rubbed back to feeling. He helps me stand and undress, and I move immediately to the tub, where I welcome the steaming hot water which is unleashed onto me. I soak. I sit. I breathe.
He does not speak. He simply pushes my hair back behind my ears and kisses the top of my head. Water runs over me, washing me blank again.
I am a mess. I am lost. I am bliss.
I am kneeling on a pillow on the floor next to my owner, silent. I wear a collar around my neck and a chain hangs from the collar. I notice it every time I move, and the slightly sound of the links moving against each other is not something he wants to hear, meaning I stay as frozen as I can. He strokes my head periodically, and I resist the impulse to lean into his hand. It is an absent-minded gesture, and if he hear the clinking, he will notice the affection that the curling of his fingers around my ears feels like. Now and then he lets his hand drop over my face and I kiss his thumb, his palm, the tips of his fingers, knowing how this makes him smile. Other than those small tightening of my lips, forming a kiss and then melting away, I am a statue. I am on my knees, and he has let me sit on my feet and I know what this means. This means he doesn't want me to squirm, to request comfort. I wait.
And in those moments where the drinks are empty, or someone is hungry, I come alive. He tightens his hand over my chain and tugs me up a little. I nod and ask each man if he would like a refill. They are all polite, saying 'thank you' or 'no thank you' in response. I walk off to refill each glass, returning and passing them out, walking slowly around the table and attending to the needs of each player. Once everyone's needs are met, I walk back next to my owner, standing beside him. For my good service, he takes my chin and pulls my face down to meet him, kissing me on the lips. This makes me smile.
I wear a small dress, my ass peeking out from underneath the hem. I have cuffs on my hands, waiting for use like a gun in the first act of a play. My feet are bare, and I am required to walk only on my toes as I serve them. I wobble sometimes, but steady myself each time.
"What was my request, other than your devoted service, while you are at this table?" He says, his lips inches from mine and wet from my tongue.
"To remain wet, Sir."
"Good girl, stand and spread your legs."
I do, my back going straight and sucking in my breath a little as I open my legs, still balanced on my toes. His fingers do not even pretend to tease my inner thighs, as they simply seek to answer: have I done my job?
To his delight and mine, I am still wet, my clit is still swollen. His fingers slowly rub and press over my clit, making my strained thighs tremble. I bite my lip, letting a quiet moan pour out of my mouth.
"Good girl." He stops, pulling the chain for me to bend, and shoving his fingers in my mouth to clean. I suck them eagerly. He pulls his fingers from my lips and kisses me once more. He turns back to the game, pointing to the pillow.
I sit back down, leaning on his leg and chair.
I drift off in my mind, waiting for my cue to move again. I float, trying to remain poised and quiet as I serve.
I hear them laugh and my ears click back to the conversation. "That's fair." He looks down to me, lifting my head, his hand on my chin, pointing across the table with his other hand to a friend in a blue, striped tie. "He's having a bit of a rough game. Go make his night a little better." I nod, standing. He grabs my chain and I stumble a step back. "Crawl."
I get down on my hands and knees, crawling around the table and then underneath, opening his pants. I pull out his cock and begin to stroke it, slowly moving my hand up and down the shaft. I squeeze softly and feel him shift towards me.
I open my mouth and place my lips around his head, licking the slit and just wetting his cock with my mouth. He hear him groan, and can't imagine this will actually improve him game. I wonder if my owner is simply trying to end the game while he is doing well. I continue to lower my mouth, sliding down and lifting back up. Each time I bob on his cock I bring him deeper into my mouth. His hands find the back of my head and squeeze. He has already folded this hand. I smile at my owner's ingenuity. He must have a good hand.
I suck, my hands moving to his balls, teasing them and pulling the skin. He moves up towards my mouth and I suck eagerly, lost in his cock until I hear my owner's voice, and his hands pull the chips into his pile.
"Turn, lets watch her." I lean up a little, but he holds my head down on his cock. He shifts in his chair and my mouth does not leave his cock as he shifts and I shuffle over on my knees. I hear them comment on what a good girl he has, and I know he is swollen with pride. Among other things.
My owner stands, walking over and pulling my hair back. I suck, letting him thrust softly into my mouth. "Let him use your mouth, but your lips are mine."
He pulls his cock out of my mouth and I kneel, opening my mouth as wide as I can and sticking out my tongue. He comes back, rubbing the tip of his cock on my tongue, stroking his cock into my mouth. I hold my arms behind my back, trying to look up at him from my knees. Spit drips from my mouth, making a bee-line for the floor in front of my knees.
My owner holds my hair, keeping my face steady while his friend slaps his cock on my outstretched tongue. My owner nods to another one of his friends to come over. They whisper, and he leaves and returns with a roll of tape. They roughly fold my arms behind me, hands holding elbows, and tape my forearms together, letting me know that there will be nothing but misery when they pull the tape off. Spit continues to drip off my tongue as precum begins to drip onto it.
They stand me up, and I lift to my toes. My owner hands my leash off to one of his other friends. "Be my guest," he says.
His friend leads me a few steps and they gather the glasses, coated in icy water and still full of ice and place them in either hand. My short fingers struggle to hold multiple glasses.
They pull down my dress to just under my breasts, pulling on the nipples until they are rigid and just beginning to get tender. They begin to slap my tits and I whimper, making them each smile to himself. They smack each over and over, my nipples becoming more and more sensitive. Red hand prints begin to appear on my skin and I watch one of his friends walk behind me. The fingers of one hand trail over my hip while the other raises and comes down in a pop. I jerk forward, gripping the glasses as tight as I can. I barely stumbling towards the other one slapping my breasts back and forth and his fingers hit my breast bone, making me gasp.
They continue to strike, ignoring the other and giving me no rhythm to brace for. I am simply holding my breath. One hand comes down hard on my ass, one cheek and then the other. I watch as his third friend walks behind me and in a full wallop two hands come down on my ass. I stumble completely forward, falling off my toes for the first time that night and letting the glasses slip from my hands.
Everyone stops and all I can hear is my breath. Tears well in my eyes and I want to beg forgiveness of my owner. I have failed him. He tried to show was a perfect girl I was and I have failed him. I am devastated.
They speak but I can barely make out what they say. My mind is reeling.
"Lay down on your back." I do. They move slowly, walking around me. Two kneel beside me, each grabbing a leg. They are such kind men, they push back my legs, spreading them. My pussy is exposed, opened for them.
"Beautiful" says the one in the blue tie.
"You have a lovely girl, here," says another wearing glasses.
I can feel ice and cold whiskey on my back. My owner nods to the one in the red tie, who comes to the front. He taps one of the men holding my legs back and I sense they have a plan for me. I watch as the one in the red tie unzips his hands and pulls out his cock. He strokes it a few times before sliding it inside my pussy with a groan.
"Excellent little cunt you have here."
My owner takes his thumb and begins to work my clit, pulling and teasing it. I arch, still laying on my folded arms, and writhe against the two men fucking me so effortlessly right now. And then I feel it.
The tip of a thin, relentless cane begins to come down on the bottoms of my feet. This will teach me to fall off of my toes. I wiggle and struggle but they hold me steady as the red tie's cock continues to thrust inside me, pushing all the way in and pulling out.
"Would you like to try her?" He nods to the gentleman in the glasses, who has yet to put his cock anywhere near me.
The caning is rendering my feet numb. I try to restrain myself from flexing my foot, leaving each pointed with the soles up and read for my discipline. It will be days before I can walk comfortably as I feel white heat moving towards numbness.
He nods, thanking my owner for his generosity. The man with the red tie continues to fuck me, thrusting harder and faster until he is satisfied with his sampling of my pussy. He places his cock back in his pants and they exchange places.
The man with the red tie has a thicker cock, and does not bother to stroke himself before thrusting deeply inside me. I cry out, fighting so hard they almost let go of my legs. My arms feel as if they are about to fall out of their sockets, strained behind my back.
He fucks me harder than the other one, but my owner's fingers on my clit are relentless. I squirm harder, fighting to pull back. My pussy feel so tender I want to explode, but all I can do is scream and whimper and cry out.
"Would you like her to cum on your cock?" The gentleman with the glasses nods, thanking my owner again. My owner turns back to me and stops the caning of my feet, where the skin is threatening to split open. "Show them how good of a girl you are."
I nod, eyes squeezed shut, black mascara tears beginning to run down my cheeks.
The man's thick cock slows, pushing in and out in a more quiet, languid manner. My owner's fingers move harder on my clit, flicking back and forth as I drip onto the floor underneath me.
They work slowly, building faster, pushing harder, thrusting deep into my cunt. My cries and screams turn to moans, gasps. I begin to beg, pleading with them not to stop. Each focuses on his part, but each work in tandem. Fingers and mouths graze my thighs, leaving lines and gaps of electricity in their wake.
Each plays his part perfectly, and then together. Each deep thrust is matched with the whir on my clit. I am moaning and they are relentless. I fight, I struggle, but I beg to cum.
"No. Wait."
I nod, struggling as hard as I can. This is the largest fight I have hand to undertake in years.
"Please, please, Sir. Please, I can't wait." I cry out more and he looks at me, his face serene, his fingers destroying my clit.
"Did you try to be a good girl tonight?"
I nod, tears welling in my eyes.
"Did you try your hardest?"
I nod harder, squeezing my eyes, black tears spilling out on either side.
"Are you going to cum hard for me?"
I nod, opening my eyes, pushing back against the man's cock, against my owner's fingers, against my own body which aches to cum. I stare him in the eyes, letting him know of my sincerity, my desperation.
"Then cum for me."
I nod and close my eyes, screaming, bucking wildly. They hold my legs tighter, pinning them back as a writhe and struggle. I watch them flex, taking all of them just to hold me down. I cum so hard I fear I may black out, every ounce of tension exploding out of me in a long, sustained, painful orgasm.
I collapse on the floor and they mill about, wiping their brows and exchanging chips for real money. They all make small talk for a few more minutes and collect their things, which I have laid out so nicely on the bed.
My owner lifts me and I am dazed as scissors take off the black tape, and my arms are rubbed back to feeling. He helps me stand and undress, and I move immediately to the tub, where I welcome the steaming hot water which is unleashed onto me. I soak. I sit. I breathe.
He does not speak. He simply pushes my hair back behind my ears and kisses the top of my head. Water runs over me, washing me blank again.
I am a mess. I am lost. I am bliss.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
I apparently have something on the brain.
We've been drinking since... brunch? I match her drink for drink, like I always do. One by one friends trickle out and go back to their lives until we are the only ones left to stay and drink. There's nothing like being tipsy in the late afternoon. There may be nothing more beautiful than a swollen orange sun lilting through a tall glass of cold beer. Especially when you're with someone who makes you wet.
She's got solid, broad shoulders and wears a button up shirt well. Long, jet black, grab-able hair. If she were wearing a loosened tie I wouldn't be able to hold back. It's her hands, though, that I want most. They're strong, and just rough enough to where I can imagine them on my nipples.
I feel it every time her leg presses against mine under the table. I feel it push against my thigh. I feel it in my nipples, which straighten and tighten and swell. I feel it tingle in my clit, beginning to ache from the day and the alcohol. I feel it in my cunt, which starts to pulse and soak my panties.
Her hands have become more courageous as the day has worn on. They casually run over my forearm, my back, and have finally begun brushing my legs, leaving trails of heat and then simply cold and lacking.
Black ink crisscrosses her tan forearms. They flex when she reaches for her glass, and the patterns curve slightly more. It's fucking gorgeous.
"Lets play pool."
I'm shit at pool. She nods her head to the table, and walks ahead of me, pulling quarters out of her pocket. The pools table's in a back room, and I follow her, watching her strong and unapologetic gait. We tuck away in the room, placing tall glasses on the side of the table. She racks and I watch, holding a cue. I watch every move she makes, and while my eyes are locked on her arms, hips, ass, and legs, I barely notice her turn around to watch me watch her. She watches my lips purse, watches my chest swell. She watches me suck softly on my bottom lip, letting it pop out wet and red. She watches as I notice her, and she watches me blush.
"Break." I finally say, my voice soft and blushing.
"Whatever you like, Princess."
She smiled and bends, breaking the balls with a huge clack, and they ricochet. Every time it is my turn, I make sure to bend for her, letting my ass shift and sway. I arch my back, sit on the edge of the table as she shoots, wait until she is watching me to move. She knows what I'm doing, and she doesn't stop me.
I bend over, and I finally feel her hand on the small of my back. I smile, returning to the pressure against her hand. She presses harder, and I press back. She finally pushes with all her weight and I collapse down on the table with a thump. I turn my head but she grabs my hair and puts it back in its place.
"Look forward."
I nod.
"Take the cue and hold your arms straight out, but don't let them touch the table."
I do as she says, holding my breath. Her hand disappears from my back and I take a large breath, which she immediate spanks hard out of me.
I reel from the pressure and pain, the searing sting on my ass, the slam of my hips into the table.
"Don't lower your arms."
I hold them onto an inch or two from the table, but perfectly straight out. She spanks me again, and I suck in a breath this time. Her hand comes down again on my ass, hard. I am still wearing a skirt, so she doesn't bother warming me up. She simply begins to come down hard on my ass in rhythmic blows.
"If you can take ten more in silence you can lower your arms."
I nod and she begins slowly. Each one is powerful and I ache to whimper. I bite my lip and breathe quickly through my nose, trying to hold back my voice. Three, four, five smacks and I am aching.
After the fifth she pulls down my tights, lifting my skirt without hesitation. I am bare-assed for her and whoever comes into the back room of the bar. I squeeze my eyes tight, and when I open them all I see are multi-colored balls on endless, soft green. I want to lay my head down but I hold myself up, the pool cue shaking but not dropping. Six and my breathing is ragged. Seven and I am trembling. Eight and I am shaking. Nine and I let out the smallest, most regrettable chirp in the back of my throat. She stops. I breathe, wanting to cry. The muscles in my arms are aching and tense.
"Start at one. No noise."
I want to cry out, I want to beg, but mostly i want to put the cue down. I breathe through the first several, my mind floating as I feel endorphins flood my body. I know I can get through this and be a good girl for her.
Five and I am visibly trembling. She walks around the table and I am desperate for the reprieve. With this moment, I breath a little easier.
She removes the cue from my hands and I do not let them fall. I am nervous. She picks up the eight ball and the cue ball and places on in either hand. Their weight is almost too much; I almost begin to cry.
She walks back around slowly.
"Six."
Each blow makes my hands jerks a little, but I do not touch the table.
"Do you hate me?"
I nod, my face tight, my breath held.
"Breathe." I do, quietly. I cannot give her the satisfaction of making me drop these balls. She got a single noise, and I am not going to give her another.
"Good girl." I smile, but only on one side. She spanks me harder, and I gasp, tightening my mouth. The burn is turning to numbness and with each bare-handed spank, I expend I am turning redder, more swollen.
"Your ass is white hot, Princess." I smirk again, snorting out a little breath of laughter.
Seven. I am resilient. With the end in sight, I tighten my grip on the balls.
Eight. I can taste relief.
"You can drop your arms on ten." I nod.
Nine and my legs have begun to shake. My knees are tightening and bracing against the table. I want the last one so much I now ache in a new way.
As soon as I feel the tenth blow I drop the balls and her hand begins to fly down, pounding over and over and over again on my ass. I cry out, and try to turn away, fighting to get out from underneath her as she wraps am arm over my waist and holds me against the table. I begin to curse at her, wriggling hard, trying to fight back as blow after blow after aching blow comes down on my bare ass. I turn enough to spit directly at her, which only makes her lean up and smack me in the face.
With her arm free I finally turn over onto my back and her hand comes down once hard on my cunt. I scream out just as she plunges her fingers deeply into my pussy. I tighten around her fingers against my will, crying out again as she proceed to thrust hard.
I lean up on my arms and she pushes me back down, her thumb nail running rough over my soaked cunt. I try and push her off, but my arms are so weak from holding them up I can barely make her notice I have touched her. I collapse back instead.
I push my hips against her hand, and she takes her other hand to push down on my pelvis, pinning me to the table. She is not even going to let me fuck her back.
This is not about me.
She climbs onto the table and sits on my waist, straddling, holding my upper body down. Her fingers pound my cunt, which is not dripping down onto the green felt of the table. My tights are around my thighs, holding my thighs together.
I push against her hands but all I can do it take. All I can do is tighten around her and curl my toes and struggle not to cum in her hand.
She pushes in a third finger and I am stretched, crying out and arching up as far as her body will let me. I push down against her hand as much as I can. I want more.
She works my clit hard, mercilessly. Her nails scrape over it, finding the spot that makes me whimper and hold my breath and focusing on it. She wants me to cum for her. All I am allowed to do is perform as told.
I struggle not to. I fight hard, trying to let my mind wander, trying to steady my breath but she is unrelenting. I don't want to cum for her. Not here.
I have little choice in the matter and I scream. I cum hard on her fingers, tensing, gripping. Her hand lets go of my pelvis and I push hard on her hand, my muscles clenched so tight I fear what I'm about to feel.
She climbs off of me and takes her hand, covered in my cum, and wipes it across my cheek. I can feel it coat my cheek, and my mouth tightens, my eyes narrow.
"Don't wash your face until you get home tonight. They should see what a slut you are."
She's got solid, broad shoulders and wears a button up shirt well. Long, jet black, grab-able hair. If she were wearing a loosened tie I wouldn't be able to hold back. It's her hands, though, that I want most. They're strong, and just rough enough to where I can imagine them on my nipples.
I feel it every time her leg presses against mine under the table. I feel it push against my thigh. I feel it in my nipples, which straighten and tighten and swell. I feel it tingle in my clit, beginning to ache from the day and the alcohol. I feel it in my cunt, which starts to pulse and soak my panties.
Her hands have become more courageous as the day has worn on. They casually run over my forearm, my back, and have finally begun brushing my legs, leaving trails of heat and then simply cold and lacking.
Black ink crisscrosses her tan forearms. They flex when she reaches for her glass, and the patterns curve slightly more. It's fucking gorgeous.
"Lets play pool."
I'm shit at pool. She nods her head to the table, and walks ahead of me, pulling quarters out of her pocket. The pools table's in a back room, and I follow her, watching her strong and unapologetic gait. We tuck away in the room, placing tall glasses on the side of the table. She racks and I watch, holding a cue. I watch every move she makes, and while my eyes are locked on her arms, hips, ass, and legs, I barely notice her turn around to watch me watch her. She watches my lips purse, watches my chest swell. She watches me suck softly on my bottom lip, letting it pop out wet and red. She watches as I notice her, and she watches me blush.
"Break." I finally say, my voice soft and blushing.
"Whatever you like, Princess."
She smiled and bends, breaking the balls with a huge clack, and they ricochet. Every time it is my turn, I make sure to bend for her, letting my ass shift and sway. I arch my back, sit on the edge of the table as she shoots, wait until she is watching me to move. She knows what I'm doing, and she doesn't stop me.
I bend over, and I finally feel her hand on the small of my back. I smile, returning to the pressure against her hand. She presses harder, and I press back. She finally pushes with all her weight and I collapse down on the table with a thump. I turn my head but she grabs my hair and puts it back in its place.
"Look forward."
I nod.
"Take the cue and hold your arms straight out, but don't let them touch the table."
I do as she says, holding my breath. Her hand disappears from my back and I take a large breath, which she immediate spanks hard out of me.
I reel from the pressure and pain, the searing sting on my ass, the slam of my hips into the table.
"Don't lower your arms."
I hold them onto an inch or two from the table, but perfectly straight out. She spanks me again, and I suck in a breath this time. Her hand comes down again on my ass, hard. I am still wearing a skirt, so she doesn't bother warming me up. She simply begins to come down hard on my ass in rhythmic blows.
"If you can take ten more in silence you can lower your arms."
I nod and she begins slowly. Each one is powerful and I ache to whimper. I bite my lip and breathe quickly through my nose, trying to hold back my voice. Three, four, five smacks and I am aching.
After the fifth she pulls down my tights, lifting my skirt without hesitation. I am bare-assed for her and whoever comes into the back room of the bar. I squeeze my eyes tight, and when I open them all I see are multi-colored balls on endless, soft green. I want to lay my head down but I hold myself up, the pool cue shaking but not dropping. Six and my breathing is ragged. Seven and I am trembling. Eight and I am shaking. Nine and I let out the smallest, most regrettable chirp in the back of my throat. She stops. I breathe, wanting to cry. The muscles in my arms are aching and tense.
"Start at one. No noise."
I want to cry out, I want to beg, but mostly i want to put the cue down. I breathe through the first several, my mind floating as I feel endorphins flood my body. I know I can get through this and be a good girl for her.
Five and I am visibly trembling. She walks around the table and I am desperate for the reprieve. With this moment, I breath a little easier.
She removes the cue from my hands and I do not let them fall. I am nervous. She picks up the eight ball and the cue ball and places on in either hand. Their weight is almost too much; I almost begin to cry.
She walks back around slowly.
"Six."
Each blow makes my hands jerks a little, but I do not touch the table.
"Do you hate me?"
I nod, my face tight, my breath held.
"Breathe." I do, quietly. I cannot give her the satisfaction of making me drop these balls. She got a single noise, and I am not going to give her another.
"Good girl." I smile, but only on one side. She spanks me harder, and I gasp, tightening my mouth. The burn is turning to numbness and with each bare-handed spank, I expend I am turning redder, more swollen.
"Your ass is white hot, Princess." I smirk again, snorting out a little breath of laughter.
Seven. I am resilient. With the end in sight, I tighten my grip on the balls.
Eight. I can taste relief.
"You can drop your arms on ten." I nod.
Nine and my legs have begun to shake. My knees are tightening and bracing against the table. I want the last one so much I now ache in a new way.
As soon as I feel the tenth blow I drop the balls and her hand begins to fly down, pounding over and over and over again on my ass. I cry out, and try to turn away, fighting to get out from underneath her as she wraps am arm over my waist and holds me against the table. I begin to curse at her, wriggling hard, trying to fight back as blow after blow after aching blow comes down on my bare ass. I turn enough to spit directly at her, which only makes her lean up and smack me in the face.
With her arm free I finally turn over onto my back and her hand comes down once hard on my cunt. I scream out just as she plunges her fingers deeply into my pussy. I tighten around her fingers against my will, crying out again as she proceed to thrust hard.
I lean up on my arms and she pushes me back down, her thumb nail running rough over my soaked cunt. I try and push her off, but my arms are so weak from holding them up I can barely make her notice I have touched her. I collapse back instead.
I push my hips against her hand, and she takes her other hand to push down on my pelvis, pinning me to the table. She is not even going to let me fuck her back.
This is not about me.
She climbs onto the table and sits on my waist, straddling, holding my upper body down. Her fingers pound my cunt, which is not dripping down onto the green felt of the table. My tights are around my thighs, holding my thighs together.
I push against her hands but all I can do it take. All I can do is tighten around her and curl my toes and struggle not to cum in her hand.
She pushes in a third finger and I am stretched, crying out and arching up as far as her body will let me. I push down against her hand as much as I can. I want more.
She works my clit hard, mercilessly. Her nails scrape over it, finding the spot that makes me whimper and hold my breath and focusing on it. She wants me to cum for her. All I am allowed to do is perform as told.
I struggle not to. I fight hard, trying to let my mind wander, trying to steady my breath but she is unrelenting. I don't want to cum for her. Not here.
I have little choice in the matter and I scream. I cum hard on her fingers, tensing, gripping. Her hand lets go of my pelvis and I push hard on her hand, my muscles clenched so tight I fear what I'm about to feel.
She climbs off of me and takes her hand, covered in my cum, and wipes it across my cheek. I can feel it coat my cheek, and my mouth tightens, my eyes narrow.
"Don't wash your face until you get home tonight. They should see what a slut you are."
Sunday, January 23, 2011
A few things to smile about.
'Sex' is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other.
I love being loud. I love moaning and yelling and crying out and screaming when I'm cumming. I love jerking off and hearing my own voice reverberate in an empty, cold apartment.
I love kissing. I love moving my lips over someone's... lips, hands, chest, neck, cock, thighs, pussy, legs. I love when my lips are swollen from the pressure of someone else's mouth.
I love biting. I love sinking my teeth into soft flesh and twisting, soft and hard, quick and slow, tight and tighter. And I love the marks my teeth leave. Beautiful little red circles of dented adoration.
I love licking. Especially when someone thinks I'll bite. A tongue curling up the neck or jaw line, tasting hot sweat and prickling on rough stubble.
I love hands. I love strong hands, a little rough, so I can feel the friction when they slide over my arms, legs, stomach, breasts.
I love how wet I get. I love that I get dripping, soaking wet in copious rivers. I love feeling it drip down my thighs and, when kneeling naked, over my ankles.
I love pressure. I love feeling the pressure of someone pushing against me. I love feeling their weight against my body. Particularly if I am squeezed between them and a wall.
I love when my nipples get hard against the fabric of my shirt, and every movement incites their tightening.
I love sucking and nibbling and teasing with my lips.
I love chocolate pudding. Not in a sexual way, but just as a side note. I really love chocolate pudding.
I love being squeezed. I love being groped and claimed and manhandled roughly. I love when I am taken and held and pushed and enclosed.
I love to struggle, and push against hands and legs and fight. I love when they catch me against a wall and tell me to stop struggling.
I love feeling a thigh between my legs. When I press down against them against my will, and feel them against my clit. I love when they press between my legs, and I want to stop moaning, but I can't.
I love leaving a spot of wet cum on someone's pants. I want them to feel it soaking through their pants and warm on their leg.
I love warm, dry towels.
I love feeling ashamed of how wet I am.
I love feeling someone get hard against me. I love when all of a sudden I can feel the swelling of a cock against me. It makes me ache and writhe. I love grinding against it. It takes my breath away.
I love when he puts his fingers in my mouth to suck, keeping my head steady, fighting with my tongue.
I love when a hand is slid into my panties. I love trying to move away from it but feeling a hand squeeze my cunt.
I love having my hands pinned behind my head. I love when I try to push hands away, and immediately my hands are pinned back.
I love blushing. I love when someone can actually catch me off guard enough to feel nervous, ashamed, embarrassed. I love the heat rising into my cheeks and having to look away from the rest of the room to keep my cool.
I love dark nail polish. I love the way it looks on short, blunt nails. It looks like damage could be done.
I love when my skirt is pulled up. I love when it's pushed up and I struggle by shifting up, but it doesn't matter. My skirt is still around my waist.
I love begging. I love being on the verge of tears and asking, pleading; asking 'not here, no, please stop.'
I love fingers over my panties. I love the friction of cotton on my clit. I love soaking my panties against my will. I love fingers pressing against my pussy through them, just teasing.
I love when my panties are pulled down. I love when they're ripped off and I'm left exposed, wet, ashamed, humiliated for wanting it so badly.
I love when it takes one hand to pull out his cock. I love feeling skin and swelling against my thigh. It makes me shake.
I love being fucked. I love being fucked roughly, and painfully. I love when he shoves his cock inside my cunt and fucks me so hard it makes me gasp.
I love when his hand goes over my mouth. I love trying to move my face away but feeling him press my head so hard into the wall it hurts. I love when my mouth is covered so hard I struggle to breathe.
I love when he cums inside me. I love feeling his cock exploding in me.
I love music with good lyrics. I like words that I can soak into and that can soak into me. I love Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan. I love her soft melodies against his earnest growl.
I love when he pulls back and puts his cock away. I love that he barely looks at me.
I love superheroes. Though, the outfits are hit or miss. Wonder Woman, Batgirl, Silk Spctre? Amazing. Powergirl, Rogue, Supergirl... Leave room for improvement.
I love when I am told to cum for him. I love looking around to make sure no one is watching and his hand grips my chin. I don't want to make him tell me twice, and my hand moves to my pussy.
I love feeling my cum drip down onto my legs as I rub my clit furiously. I love pushing my fingers into my pussy and feeling it pulse on my fingers as I ache to cum.
I love when his hand goes back over my mouth to shut me up. I love when he tells me not to stop, but to shut my mouth.
I love cumming on my fingers. I love soaking my fingers, feeling it coating my skin.
I love sucking my fingers clean when I'm done. Licking over and in between, getting every drop with my tongue, eyes on him.
I love that he finishes ripping off my panties and shoves them in his pocket. I love that he makes me walk back out with a tiny little skirt and no panties, exposed and nervous for the rest of the night. Knowing that people will point and whisper. It makes me feel exposed, unnerved.
I love the sip from his drink he tips into my mouth. I love the cold of ice and vodka as I'm hot and flustered.
I love the buzz and breathlessness after I cum. I love that I have to steady myself on his arm even though I hate him for doing it to me.
I love bad jokes.
I love good desserts.
I love experiences which I have to decide whether or not I enjoyed later.
I love being loud. I love moaning and yelling and crying out and screaming when I'm cumming. I love jerking off and hearing my own voice reverberate in an empty, cold apartment.
I love kissing. I love moving my lips over someone's... lips, hands, chest, neck, cock, thighs, pussy, legs. I love when my lips are swollen from the pressure of someone else's mouth.
I love biting. I love sinking my teeth into soft flesh and twisting, soft and hard, quick and slow, tight and tighter. And I love the marks my teeth leave. Beautiful little red circles of dented adoration.
I love licking. Especially when someone thinks I'll bite. A tongue curling up the neck or jaw line, tasting hot sweat and prickling on rough stubble.
I love hands. I love strong hands, a little rough, so I can feel the friction when they slide over my arms, legs, stomach, breasts.
I love how wet I get. I love that I get dripping, soaking wet in copious rivers. I love feeling it drip down my thighs and, when kneeling naked, over my ankles.
I love pressure. I love feeling the pressure of someone pushing against me. I love feeling their weight against my body. Particularly if I am squeezed between them and a wall.
I love when my nipples get hard against the fabric of my shirt, and every movement incites their tightening.
I love sucking and nibbling and teasing with my lips.
I love chocolate pudding. Not in a sexual way, but just as a side note. I really love chocolate pudding.
I love being squeezed. I love being groped and claimed and manhandled roughly. I love when I am taken and held and pushed and enclosed.
I love to struggle, and push against hands and legs and fight. I love when they catch me against a wall and tell me to stop struggling.
I love feeling a thigh between my legs. When I press down against them against my will, and feel them against my clit. I love when they press between my legs, and I want to stop moaning, but I can't.
I love leaving a spot of wet cum on someone's pants. I want them to feel it soaking through their pants and warm on their leg.
I love warm, dry towels.
I love feeling ashamed of how wet I am.
I love feeling someone get hard against me. I love when all of a sudden I can feel the swelling of a cock against me. It makes me ache and writhe. I love grinding against it. It takes my breath away.
I love when he puts his fingers in my mouth to suck, keeping my head steady, fighting with my tongue.
I love when a hand is slid into my panties. I love trying to move away from it but feeling a hand squeeze my cunt.
I love having my hands pinned behind my head. I love when I try to push hands away, and immediately my hands are pinned back.
I love blushing. I love when someone can actually catch me off guard enough to feel nervous, ashamed, embarrassed. I love the heat rising into my cheeks and having to look away from the rest of the room to keep my cool.
I love dark nail polish. I love the way it looks on short, blunt nails. It looks like damage could be done.
I love when my skirt is pulled up. I love when it's pushed up and I struggle by shifting up, but it doesn't matter. My skirt is still around my waist.
I love begging. I love being on the verge of tears and asking, pleading; asking 'not here, no, please stop.'
I love fingers over my panties. I love the friction of cotton on my clit. I love soaking my panties against my will. I love fingers pressing against my pussy through them, just teasing.
I love when my panties are pulled down. I love when they're ripped off and I'm left exposed, wet, ashamed, humiliated for wanting it so badly.
I love when it takes one hand to pull out his cock. I love feeling skin and swelling against my thigh. It makes me shake.
I love being fucked. I love being fucked roughly, and painfully. I love when he shoves his cock inside my cunt and fucks me so hard it makes me gasp.
I love when his hand goes over my mouth. I love trying to move my face away but feeling him press my head so hard into the wall it hurts. I love when my mouth is covered so hard I struggle to breathe.
I love when he cums inside me. I love feeling his cock exploding in me.
I love music with good lyrics. I like words that I can soak into and that can soak into me. I love Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan. I love her soft melodies against his earnest growl.
I love when he pulls back and puts his cock away. I love that he barely looks at me.
I love superheroes. Though, the outfits are hit or miss. Wonder Woman, Batgirl, Silk Spctre? Amazing. Powergirl, Rogue, Supergirl... Leave room for improvement.
I love when I am told to cum for him. I love looking around to make sure no one is watching and his hand grips my chin. I don't want to make him tell me twice, and my hand moves to my pussy.
I love feeling my cum drip down onto my legs as I rub my clit furiously. I love pushing my fingers into my pussy and feeling it pulse on my fingers as I ache to cum.
I love when his hand goes back over my mouth to shut me up. I love when he tells me not to stop, but to shut my mouth.
I love cumming on my fingers. I love soaking my fingers, feeling it coating my skin.
I love sucking my fingers clean when I'm done. Licking over and in between, getting every drop with my tongue, eyes on him.
I love that he finishes ripping off my panties and shoves them in his pocket. I love that he makes me walk back out with a tiny little skirt and no panties, exposed and nervous for the rest of the night. Knowing that people will point and whisper. It makes me feel exposed, unnerved.
I love the sip from his drink he tips into my mouth. I love the cold of ice and vodka as I'm hot and flustered.
I love the buzz and breathlessness after I cum. I love that I have to steady myself on his arm even though I hate him for doing it to me.
I love bad jokes.
I love good desserts.
I love experiences which I have to decide whether or not I enjoyed later.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
1950s shit is hot.
I'm waiting for him to come home. I'm always nervous in these moments before he gets home. He'll either be sober and somber, or drunk and hateful. I never know which I like more.
Dinner is on the stove and ready to plate as soon as I hear his key in the lock. Every time I hear the elevator open I tense and run for my ladle. It is always the elevator sound that I almost don't hear. When his key slides into the lock, I am dishing out rice, and sliding chicken onto a plate. When he opens the door I am almost to the second plate. By the time his coat is hanging, I am ready, two full dinner plates in hand.
It takes him two tries to hang up his coat, which lets me know he's the latter of the two options. He is unhappy with dinner as soon as he sets it on the table. He walks over and gives me a brief, dismissive kiss on the side of the temple and sits down. I am waiting for a rant about work, to hear about how stupid his boss is or how much he loathes his secretary but he is quiet as he takes the first bite.
He takes a second.
Out of nowhere he flips the plate, rice splattering onto the floor, and glass shattering around me. My breath is caught and it is a long moment of fear before I even realize I am holding my breath.
"What the fuck is that?"
I wait and he slaps me across the face.
"What the fuck is that?"
I open my mouth to speak and feel tears well up. He slaps me again across the face and stands as I being to tremble.
"Stupid bitch." He grabs me by my hair, tightening his fingers and making my scalp burn. He pulls me up and out of the chair, tears running black mascara down my cheeks. "You stupid bitch, do you not understand what I'm saying?"
"I do!" I finally cry out, voice trembling.
He stops. "Good." He slaps me again. "She's slow but she's listening" he says to no one in particular. "So what the fuck is this?" He points to the food on the floor and pushes my head towards it. "This is shit." He shoves my face closer. "This is dog food, you cunt." His fingers tighten in my hair and I start to whimper over the tears. He continues to curse under his breath. "You're making me eat dog food, you little inconsiderate cunt." He finally shoves my face into the floor. "Then eat like a dog. Off the floor." He shoves my face harder into the floor, my cheek flush against the wood. "You don't appreciate what I give you, so eat like a dog."
I breathe hard, waiting. He turns my face. "EAT." I open my mouth, unsure. "Eat off the floor like the ungrateful dog you are." He squats down and watches as I take small bites, licking, tasting everything I use to clean the wood, tasting dinner, tasting shame, tasting my tears as they drip down. "Good girl."
He watches me closely and then turns my head again. Rice and carrots stick to my cheek. He stands and places a foot on my other cheek, pressing me harder and harder into the floor. "Ungrateful cunt."
"Yes, Sir." I squeak out.
He removes his boot. "Do you know what you're good for? Get up."
I stumble to my feet, wiping my face, pieces of food dropping to the floor.
"You know what you're good for. Do it." I get down on my knees, and unzip his pants. He slaps me softly on the face. It's the closest he can come to affection right now.
I lean in and begin to lick his cock. It is already swollen, the tip red and ready to drip. I take it into my mouth quickly as he begins to get restless with my tongue. He moans.
He grabs the sides of my face and starts to fuck my mouth slowly, almost calmly. It is the only time he will be calm tonight.
In full control of my head, he is getting faster. And though I want to struggle, I continue to cry, simply letting him slide his cock into my throat. It works my mouth roughly, sliding out slowly and then pounding it back in. Over and over he takes long drags and then violent thrusts. I whimper, spit dripping from my mouth and onto my dress. His hands tighten on my face, and his thumbs go on either side of my mouth to hold it open.
"Fuck, you do know what you're good for." I can taste his precum as he drags his cock over my tongue.
Finally he pulls out and I reach up to wipe my mouth of spit and makeup and pieces of the floor I came from. "Bend over."
I do willingly, and he pulls my dress up in the back. He had me stop wearing panties months ago, preferring only garter belts and stockings to the bother of underwear. He reaches underneath me as I bend over the table and I am humiliated at how wet I am. "Such a hungry little dog, aren't you?"
He shoves his cock in me and I moan. "No, puppy. Bark for me." I am timid. Shocked, really. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back. "BARK."
"Arf!" I yelp out, just wanting my hair back.
As I let it out he starts to fuck me. "Don't moan, puppy. Just bark."
I nod, biting my lip and trying to keep all sounds in. I reach my hand down between my legs and tempt fate.
He fucks me hard, and I feel my cunt squeezing him hard. As I slam into the table, my hips begin to ache and I feel he has finally chipped the bones underneath.
I want him to explode inside me. I want to feel it dripping down my thighs as I kneel down and clean up glass and food. I rub my own clit furiously, crying out, loudly. "ARF ARF ARF!"
He moans, shooting hard into me. He bucks against my ass, holding it tightly before letting me go. He stumbles off to bed, and I feel it begin to drip as I kneel down and pick up my first bits of rice.
Dinner is on the stove and ready to plate as soon as I hear his key in the lock. Every time I hear the elevator open I tense and run for my ladle. It is always the elevator sound that I almost don't hear. When his key slides into the lock, I am dishing out rice, and sliding chicken onto a plate. When he opens the door I am almost to the second plate. By the time his coat is hanging, I am ready, two full dinner plates in hand.
It takes him two tries to hang up his coat, which lets me know he's the latter of the two options. He is unhappy with dinner as soon as he sets it on the table. He walks over and gives me a brief, dismissive kiss on the side of the temple and sits down. I am waiting for a rant about work, to hear about how stupid his boss is or how much he loathes his secretary but he is quiet as he takes the first bite.
He takes a second.
Out of nowhere he flips the plate, rice splattering onto the floor, and glass shattering around me. My breath is caught and it is a long moment of fear before I even realize I am holding my breath.
"What the fuck is that?"
I wait and he slaps me across the face.
"What the fuck is that?"
I open my mouth to speak and feel tears well up. He slaps me again across the face and stands as I being to tremble.
"Stupid bitch." He grabs me by my hair, tightening his fingers and making my scalp burn. He pulls me up and out of the chair, tears running black mascara down my cheeks. "You stupid bitch, do you not understand what I'm saying?"
"I do!" I finally cry out, voice trembling.
He stops. "Good." He slaps me again. "She's slow but she's listening" he says to no one in particular. "So what the fuck is this?" He points to the food on the floor and pushes my head towards it. "This is shit." He shoves my face closer. "This is dog food, you cunt." His fingers tighten in my hair and I start to whimper over the tears. He continues to curse under his breath. "You're making me eat dog food, you little inconsiderate cunt." He finally shoves my face into the floor. "Then eat like a dog. Off the floor." He shoves my face harder into the floor, my cheek flush against the wood. "You don't appreciate what I give you, so eat like a dog."
I breathe hard, waiting. He turns my face. "EAT." I open my mouth, unsure. "Eat off the floor like the ungrateful dog you are." He squats down and watches as I take small bites, licking, tasting everything I use to clean the wood, tasting dinner, tasting shame, tasting my tears as they drip down. "Good girl."
He watches me closely and then turns my head again. Rice and carrots stick to my cheek. He stands and places a foot on my other cheek, pressing me harder and harder into the floor. "Ungrateful cunt."
"Yes, Sir." I squeak out.
He removes his boot. "Do you know what you're good for? Get up."
I stumble to my feet, wiping my face, pieces of food dropping to the floor.
"You know what you're good for. Do it." I get down on my knees, and unzip his pants. He slaps me softly on the face. It's the closest he can come to affection right now.
I lean in and begin to lick his cock. It is already swollen, the tip red and ready to drip. I take it into my mouth quickly as he begins to get restless with my tongue. He moans.
He grabs the sides of my face and starts to fuck my mouth slowly, almost calmly. It is the only time he will be calm tonight.
In full control of my head, he is getting faster. And though I want to struggle, I continue to cry, simply letting him slide his cock into my throat. It works my mouth roughly, sliding out slowly and then pounding it back in. Over and over he takes long drags and then violent thrusts. I whimper, spit dripping from my mouth and onto my dress. His hands tighten on my face, and his thumbs go on either side of my mouth to hold it open.
"Fuck, you do know what you're good for." I can taste his precum as he drags his cock over my tongue.
Finally he pulls out and I reach up to wipe my mouth of spit and makeup and pieces of the floor I came from. "Bend over."
I do willingly, and he pulls my dress up in the back. He had me stop wearing panties months ago, preferring only garter belts and stockings to the bother of underwear. He reaches underneath me as I bend over the table and I am humiliated at how wet I am. "Such a hungry little dog, aren't you?"
He shoves his cock in me and I moan. "No, puppy. Bark for me." I am timid. Shocked, really. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back. "BARK."
"Arf!" I yelp out, just wanting my hair back.
As I let it out he starts to fuck me. "Don't moan, puppy. Just bark."
I nod, biting my lip and trying to keep all sounds in. I reach my hand down between my legs and tempt fate.
He fucks me hard, and I feel my cunt squeezing him hard. As I slam into the table, my hips begin to ache and I feel he has finally chipped the bones underneath.
I want him to explode inside me. I want to feel it dripping down my thighs as I kneel down and clean up glass and food. I rub my own clit furiously, crying out, loudly. "ARF ARF ARF!"
He moans, shooting hard into me. He bucks against my ass, holding it tightly before letting me go. He stumbles off to bed, and I feel it begin to drip as I kneel down and pick up my first bits of rice.
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