Flight 868 to LGA

One of my favorite things in the world is making men hard. I love a hard, swollen, red cock. I love when I sit on a guy's lap and his cock presses against his pants, and into my soft ass. When he presses against me, makes me breathe harder as his cock runs pushes into the small of my back. It gets me wet, makes my clit swell. It makes me want to fuck immediately.
The other day when I was flying back from California there was a guy sitting across the aisle from me. He was slight with glasses, and a face which just blared out "submissive" to anyone who would read it.
I love tease and denial. I love the power of making someone want something so singularly that they can't focus, and then refusing to allow them to return to their lives. Making them strain without release, to want without receiving.
We had hours on the plane just feet apart, but he noticed me before I even got on the plane. When I see someone struggling so hard not to notice me, I make sure to entertain them. I make sure that I'm the only thing they will see.
I was wearing a short green dress, soft material which fell well with buttons up the front. She hem line, long neck line. And, of course, boots. When I saw him sitting there, nervous and excited as I approached, I was practically gleeful. I knew exactly how I was going to pass the time.
Getting to my seat I bent and twisted to stow my bag. I bent over, my ass just barely grazing his arm. I apologized for bumping him, and he nodded in warm reception.
When seated, I undid the top button of my dress, letting the pink and white of my bra skim over the top of my dress. I leaned over, fore arm pressing the soft flesh of my tits up, to get a better view out of his side of the plane.
I watched as he shifted in his seat, and imagined his cock starting to swell. I imagined it pushing against the zipper in his khakis - pants which are never so kind as to hide a cock. I imagined his shifting to hide it from me, feeling his humiliation swell right along with the head.
I sat back to give him a break, and when I put my head back against the seat, out of the corner of my eye I saw the tell-tale sign of his excitement. He reached down and grabbed the crotch of his pants, moving it back and forth into a comfortable position.
I smiled.
I nodded off for a time, letting him be, letting his cock relax and soften once again. It isn't much fun to just turn someone on and be done. It takes patience, and we had the next five hours to play, whether he liked it or not.
When I awoke I noticed my dress had slipped down a bit further, a full inch or so of the bright cotton pink cup exposed, and then shoulder having slipped down just enough to reveal a strap.
I shifted as I woke, clearing my throat, and rustling enough for him to know I was up. He immediately perked to attention, and openly turned his head to look.
I caught his eye just as I was shifting my clothes back into place, giving him another flash of cleavage and bra along with a long, full smile.
He notices, and immediately turns a soft shade of warm pink. I adjust my dress, and watch him shift again, sensing his frustration with his own body.
As he shifts in his seat, so do I, in slow serpentine rolls and subtle stretches. When someone asks to get by me and use the bathroom, I stand impossibly close to him, my ass right at eye level. When she leaves, I adjust the bag which is under the seat in front of me and bend over, letting him stare at my ass, letting him imagine grabbing it in his hands and fucking me right there on the plane. Pulling my dress up, panties down, and shoving his swollen cock into my pussy and ass.
But instead, I sit back down, unfucked.
I watch him shift his cock again, and place a tell-tale magazine over the bulge. He keeps shifting in his seat, and I take the opportunity to move more, to lean towards him to reach for something, to squirm in my seat, to smile at him more. He is blushing every now and then - I imagine when it twitches. He shifts more often, when it strains.
I finally make the move which I hope will move to him to action. I pull my foot up to my ass, leaning it against the arm rest and opening my legs. It's incredibly comfortable, and lets my dress slide back further and further so he can see my tanned thighs all the way to my ass. The inside of my thighs is, despite years of slaps and paddles, tender and vulnerable.
He's watching. I can feel his eyes caress my skin. I can sense his gaze as it moves over my inner thighs, and opens them further. His sight pulls back my dress and explores the inner folds of my panties, my cunt.
I watch it all happen in slow motion, as does he. He does not hide his erection any longer and shifts, lacking in both subtlety and dignity. I finally smile at him, a knowing smile which says "Thanks, you made my day."
He blushes red to purple, and adjusts one more time. He stares straight ahead, and I lose myself in a book, counting the long minutes before I get exactly what I want.
It takes three and a half minutes of internal debating and turning to see the bathroom line before he can't wait any longer.
He stands abruptly, taking advantage of the lack of line, and the long since absence of a drink cart to move to the bathroom, and I know exactly what happens once inside.
I imagine him pulling out his cock, and stroking it once, hard, just to relieve some of the built up pain and tension. From then it is a slower experience. He can take his time once his balls no longer squeeze themselves in want. He strokes his shaft slowly, teasingly, knowing that it can't go on for very long.
His other hand lowers to tighten around his balls, and he grunts he slightly in the back of his throat. He tugs them, rolling them just slightly in a flexing palm as his other hand squeezes the head of his swollen cock. Precum oozes out over his fingers as he squeezes. He pulls the shaft slowly, finishing with a final squeeze on the head. He can feel his own cock pulse in time with the heartbeat which rings on in his ears.
He continues to pump, remembering my thighs opening, blossoming like a flower shrouded in green cotton. He remembers girls he fucked in college, in high school, girls he wanted to fuck in middle school as he draws out his orgasm. It is a long flight, he has time to kill. He leans back against the sink and starts to stroke faster.
The seat belt sign pings on, and the captain gives mumbled announcements about possible turbulence ahead. I smile, knowing he is in there. I look back, making sure he is not returning, but he has time.
He thinks about pulling that green dress up farther, imagines the black lace panties I have underneath coming down, down to reveal a moist slit and wanton hole. He imagines plunging into that hole, and strokes faster, his precum spilling out to lacquer his hard cock, shiny and swollen in his hand.
He pumps harder as the plane trembles. As his feet become unsteady, he struggles to pump harder. He fights his own patience and jerks harder. He imagines fucking faster, slipping his cock into a dripping cunt. He fist grips and cum begins to swell higher in his balls.
He pumps faster as the plane jerks and he jerks forward with it, pulsing into his hand. He groans louder, pumping it faster. His cock gets harder in his hard, straining upward as he strokes faster. He strokes with the veracity he hasn't remembered having since his teen years. There is the urgency he hasn't needed since there were time limits to jerking off alone.
The seat belt sign rings again, and the turbulence gets more aggressive. He pumps harder, feeling himself swelling, growing warmer, harder, needing to cum all over this little fucking bathroom.
He groans again, louder, biting his lip as to not make anymore noise and arouse the suspicions of the flight attendants. He jerks forward again.
He steadiest himself one more time, biting his lip and drags his hand long and hard over his shaft, once, twice, three more time before he finally explodes, shooting him cum in jerks and waves over the wall of the tiny bathroom. It spills over his hand. It runs down, dripping slow and fast.
He zips up, breathing heavy, adjusting his glasses one more time before exiting the bathroom. He rejoins me in the seat across the aisle. I smile at him as he returns and the plane shakes once more, violently.
"Just in time."
He grunts in response.

The New Girls Fucks Up

I sit in his car, coat on and ready. I wait in the passenger seat as the time ticks by, and the cars slowly pull away. A few people have noticed me, alone in a car in the parking garage, in the passenger seat, staring forward.
I arrived at 5:12, long enough to put on my coat at 5 sharp, walk to the elevator, wait, stand, and then remember where he parked this morning. I wait.
I wait as the car beside me pulls away and the woman tries to smile, recognizing me from my time in the office but not knowing enough to know that I will not turn and smile back.
I wait as I begin to get tired, minutes ticking on in a slow haul. I wait as it becomes 15 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour, two hours, and then two hours and thirty-four minutes that I have been waiting.
I begin to get bored. I play with the lighter, running my finger over the ridges that make up the circle. I run those fingers over my lips, dry from a day of lipstick and careless biting and nibbling.
Everything I touch in the car makes me think of his hands, stroking and touching them as he needs to. I run my hand over the steering wheel, thinking of how he carelessly and casually maneuvers around curves. I squeeze the top of the gearshift, imagining him revving an engine. While my fingers lay over the leather, his hand is large and consumes it.
I think of his hand cupping my pussy, how his long fingers curl all the way down and his palm presses against me. Even over my jeans it makes me feel possessed by him. I can feel myself getting wet just by the thought of it. And when his fingers enter me, I could be mindless I am so taken.
I begin to squirm in my seat after two hours and thirty-four minutes of being such a good girl. I press my legs together to ease some of the pressure.
I sit in the car and look around, trying my best to not look conspicuous. I want to find anything that will take my mind off of what is slowing becoming a throb between my legs. I am so, so wet, and my clit is achingly swollen.
I am not proud but I simply wait, sit for him in the car, silent and attentive.
And then it happens. I look around. there is no one in the garage, save a few cars. I look again at the time and only a few minutes have ticked by. It will be hours before I find any relief, and even then I will never be sated. I am an aching cunt - desperate and constantly in need of fingers, a tongue, a vibrator, a hairbrush handle, a fist, a swollen, stunning, thick cock.
I have already crossed a divide between good and absolutely fucking useless. I have already come too far. I have checked around to see if there was anyone and when I saw that I was blissfully alone, I let my hand find itself underneath my skirt in the front seat of the car.
But of course this cannot end here. This simply cannot be the end of my relief, and I rub myself. My underwear still sit in his office, so it is immediately skin on skin. Immediately, I feel my fingers rubbing my clit to the point of pain - matching ache for ache the need I have to touch myself, to cum, to find relief.
I am so wet, I have already begun to pool between my legs and drip onto the back of my skirt. Before my hand even came close to my hem, I was already a foregone conclusion.
As soon as they are there, I have been lost entirely. I begin to rub my clit, hard and then soft to lengthen my enjoyment. I rub in circles, dainty circles which roll my clit back and forth. I slide them up and down, one finger on either side of my clit, feeling how much it begs to be touched and loved and kissed.
And then they are inside me. I slide my hand down and push them inside my cunt. My entire hand is slicked with my juices, and as soon as two fingers are all the way inside me, I pull them out and lick my hand clean. Once every drop has been tasted, I slide my hand back down and push those two fingers back inside, shoving them deep into my cunt. I curl them inside me and push my hips forward, watching more. I am greedy.
I spread my legs, feeling more and more reckless. I pull my skirt back and open my legs wide, leaning back a little. My other hand fingers my clit and proceeds to rub slowly, and then furiously, as I meet my own hips thrust for thrust. Each time I bury them deeper I begin to whimper. There seems nothing I won't do to let myself explode right now.
My fingers scrape back and forth over my clit - finger pad to one side and nail as it moves back. I have no problem scraping myself raw right now. I continue to rub as I fuck myself faster. I angle downward and plant one heeled foot onto the dashboard, spreading myself wider for another finger.
My eyes slide shut as I push harder against my cunt. I can want nothing but more and more and more. As I squeeze my eyes shut I scream, cumming against my own hand. I feel buckets of cum pour out of me, onto my hands, fingers, and the seat below me. I am spent. I am exhausted.
I struggle to clean myself up - to calm down, pull my skirt back down, and furtively look around against to see what I most fear. He is walking towards the car. I breathe faster, hating myself for my own debauchery. I pull everything back into place, and try and calm my heart slowly.
He opens the car door and I startle just slightly. He sits down, pulling his briefcase in the back seat. He pauses, and I know he knows. He looks at me very slowly, his blue eyes steeled.
"Were you a good girl for me?"
My bottom lip trembles and I open my mouth to answer.
It is only those brief seconds of the heaviest pause before I begin to cry, and shake my head.
"Give me your hand, baby."
I do and he slowly, patiently licks my fingers. His tongue rolls over the pads, the nail, the knuckle and I stir again, and am all the more angry at myself for it.
"Did you think I would be mean and not let you cum again?"
"No, Sir, I just couldn't help myself."
He sighs, his disappointment is potent. I am nothing short of terrified. I am terrified that he will inflict irreparable damage on my flesh and ego. I fear more that he will simply tell me to get out of the car, and never look back as he finds a more suitable candidate for his tutelage.
He silently steps from the car and my breath catches, holding painfully in my tightened chest. I feel as if I am falling. He walks around the car and opens my door, extending a hand which I take. I step from the car as well and he removes my jacket, placing it on the passenger seat before closing the door.
He guides me to the back of the car and leans me over the trunk. I tremble. I notice droplets of water falling in soft springs onto the trunk and it is only then that I realize that I am crying.
He pulls my skirt up, leaning on the small of my back, his arm pulling my hips against his chest. And then I feel his hand. He is showing ruthless pleasure in his lack of mercy. His hand, fist, full arm crash down over and over and over on my ass. He strikes me ten times solidly, and I am thankful for the car to hold me up.
He pauses and I weep, arms folded underneath my wet face. He steps back and I know it will only get worse before it gets better. I hear fabric barely breaking behind my own gasps and whimpers.
I feel it, breaking over my ass, and curling around my hip in a tight line which burns my flesh. He has taken off his belt. I stiffen after the first one, trying to lock my knees. It hit so firmly, cracked over my flesh so loudly, that it now echoes through the parking garage. Only a few cars remain, and there is no one to come with concern.
"Take off your skirt and blouse."
I nod, removing them slowly, precisely. I stand in only heels and bend, once again, over the back of the car. He comes down again, hard, his belt licking my lower back and making my cry out. He comes down again, right on the crest of my ass, and again even lower.
Every time he strikes me, it feels as if I've been cut, sliced apart. My legs become shakier and my cries before more and more drowned in my tears. I shift my head to the side and see that he is working himself out of breath he is beating me so hard. I have forgotten bruises, and simply wish to be able to stand again.
And yet, every time he strikes me, I feel myself growing more and more into his good girl. I will not forget such a beating.
My legs begin to move from trembling to shaking. Every slap sends me squirming. I have lost count at how many have come down and am only in my own fog.
"Sir..." I choke out quietly. He does not stop. "Please, Sir..." He continues, leaving my skin raised in red welts and cracking in places where it can no longer hold together. "Please, Daddy, no more." I finally say loud enough for him to hear and he stops. He does not freeze, but calmly regains his posture and walks over to his broken, remorseful girl.
He leans over my crippled body, and it is the only thing preventing me from crumpling on the ground. "You're not going to fuck yourself when you know I don't allow it anymore, are you?"
I shake my head and sniffle.
"You're my good girl, aren't you?"
I nod and begin to collapse a bit, my legs finally giving out. He catches me.
He opens the back door and I lay inside, caked in blood and sweat, wet with tears. He covers me with his suit jacket, softly stroking the skin of my ankle with his long fingers. "You're a good girl. You made me proud today."
I touch the lashes as we drive, feeling where I am bleeding, learning where I will bruise, and each spike of pain sends a shiver down my spine.

The New Girl at Work

I wait all day for him to beckon me over. He instructed me not to move, for my feet to remain flat on the floor and my hands under the desk, but not on my cunt. I sit just outside his office, waiting. Papers are stacked neatly before me. The only movements I have made were to shift when my ass was becoming numb, and to lean forward only to realize I had no interest in the papers before me. At noon he ordered me a pasta salad and himself a sandwich. I offered to order lunch but he looked at me and smirked.
When the food came he sat beside me, lifting forkfuls into my mouth until I nodded that I was full. I thanked him for such kindness and went back to simply sitting and waiting.
My mind began to run tracks. It spiraled in circles to keep me busy. Thinking, guessing, getting distracted over nothing, counting angles, cracks, corners, and divots.
I wear a tight blouse. When I came in that morning, I stood in his office. He had me lift my skirt to my waist and take off my panties in the center of his office. I placed them on his desk. I was embarrassed that they were purple with little silver stars, but he only smiled, almost affectionately. I pulled my skirt back down and he had me remove my blouse. I took off my bra, placing it on top of my underwear on the corner of his desk.
For the first time since I entered, he stood, erection clearly outlined in his pants. He strokes it casually as he walks towards me and places the longest of kisses on my throat.
That kiss will burn for the rest of the day.
I put my blouse back on, nipples clearly erect through the thin purple cotton of the shirt. There is no hiding my arousal. I can smell my cunt simply standing there.
He gives me his rigid instructions and I simply sit just outside his office, listening to him make deals and take phone calls.
Every time he walks out I look up at him and smile. At first, my smiles betrayed me with their expectation. He would look down at me each time and smile back, sometimes even letting his fingers slide across my desk, but he never stopped. He would give his other employees instructions, orders, commands, but I only received those brief smiles.
The other women in the office glare at me with disdain. They watch as I remain motionless, save head turns and slight leans. They are displeased with my ease at his directions. Whereas his commands to them are cold and professional, our smiles are soft, and less than furtive. I swell at being his favorite girl and it is the only thought I need to cum at night or grow damp right there in the office.
I would watch him as he gave orders, the grey trousers tenting slightly, the gleam off of his cufflinks making me stir in my seat.
By 11, though, my smiles were simply to let him know that if this was his order, I was pleased to fulfill it. Itches remain ignored, coughs uncovered. I fight with a lock of hair which has fallen callously into my eyes.
From my desk, I could lean my head slightly and watch him, but he never took notice of me. At 11:54 he winked at me and I felt my whole body flush and my cunt grow wet. At 1:28 he saw me watching him. I licked my lips and he smiled before turning away.
And at 4:27 he came out of his office and stood next to me. He took my hand and lifted it front the desk, helping me to a stand.
He leads me into his office and closes the door, not letting go of my hand as he silently walks me around to his desk. I stand, hips just barely grazing the edge, and he returns to sit in his chair, hands resting on my hips. He lifts my skirt slowly, and I feel his breath on my ass. There are still bruises from where I displeased him yesterday.
"You've tried to be a good girl for me all day, haven't you?"
"Yes, Sir." My arms rest at my sides, but my fingers tremble with the electricity which has no other escape.
"You learned your lesson from yesterday, haven't you?"
I nod quickly, almost over zealously. Yesterday I came in after a long day dream about nothing, and was not wet to his satisfaction. My ass paid the price.
"Do you remember my instructions this morning?"
I nod, curling my fingers into my hands. "Yes, Sir."
"Tell me, baby."
"Keep my hands on the desk and my feet on the floor."
His hand comes down in a sharp pain on my ass. "And?"
I gasp, swallow, and tremble all the more. "And stay wet for you, Sir."
"Good girl." He slowly pushes me down until my chest meets the desk. He opens my legs slowly, and I step them out inch by inch.
I try and keep my breath steady as my heart starts to pound. I have tried to be such a good girl for him - I have tried to make him so proud of his girl.
When my legs are spread I hear him smile. He can see my cunt glisten. His fingers trail my thighs, delicately, softly, lovingly. I have made him proud, and it means the world to me.
He leans forward and begins to lick my wet clit. I immediately moan louder than I anticipated, pushing back against him. He lets me as he begins to lap at my soaked cunt, his tongue running up and down over my lips, sliding between them to my clit.
I push back hard against his face, begging over and over again for more and more. I ache against his tongue I am so wet. He begins to tease, the more I grind, pulling his tongue back and holding my thighs in place.
I struggle a little and he sits back.
"I thought you were my good little girl?"
"I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't mean to, it was a stupid reaction."
"I don't believe you're sorry, baby."
His hand lands on my ass so hard I slam against his desk. I know there will be bruises. I will wear them with competing pride and shame.
"Please, Sir. Please forgive me for being such a greedy little cunt." He hits me again. "I beg you, Sir, please forgive me for being such a wanton whore in front of your face, trying to get more of your tongue. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."
He spreads my thighs more with his hands and goes back to sucking on my clit. I cry out in a noise indistinguishable from when he hit me. I have, once again, learned my lesson and refuse to move. His hands pulls back and only graze my thighs in a test of my will and want. I want him more. I want to be a good girl.
He is drowning in my cum as it drips down his tongue. He licks only hard enough to make me desperate. And though I am aching for more of his tongue, he knows it will only make me long for his cock.
It takes everything inside me not to move backwards and he rewards me with more of his tongue. I know his chin, his lips are covered with my juices. I boldly know how much he loves to taste me by the way he devours me. He leans back and I gasp, but refuse to whimper. I don't want to disappoint him with my greed.
He slides two fingers into my cunt, juices dripping down my thighs. I moan again, trying not to buck against him as his thick, longer fingers begin to pound my cunt without mercy.
"You like being my good little girl, right?"
"Yes, Sir."
"You like how much attention I pay to you and your pretty pussy, right?"
I scream a little louder as I affirm, "Yes, Sir."
I want more - tears begin to well in my eyes as he stretches my eager slit. "You want to make me proud, right baby?"
"Yes, please, Sir, please." I beg, my face down on the desk, my knees buckling and my nails digging into the papers on his desk.
"Then come for me, baby. Be a good girl for me and cum."
I scream, not caring who can hear. I cum on his fingers, my pussy squeezing and pulsing around them, cum dripping down his forearm to his beautiful French cuffs and sparkling cufflinks.
His fingers stay inside me as my body twitches with tiny aftershocks. His other hand rubs the small of my back softly. My breathing is shallow and ineffective, and I continue to tremble.
"Good girl. You've been a good girl." I nod, laying my head down on the desk. His hand slides from my cunt. "Turn around, baby." I slowly stand and turn, my knees almost buckling underneath me. I lean back against the desk, skirt still up around my waist. He holds his fingers to my lips and I lick them clean for him.
"Baby, I want you to go sit at your desk until 5:00. Put on your coat and sit in my car until I get there."
He may be hours before he comes, but I will wait. I will be his good girl.

Smells Like Team Spirit

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."

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.

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.

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.