“I like sports, going for drives around town, and… well, I’m a little embarrassed,” I said, not sure why I was confessing this to her. “I like to go online and chat with women. Sometimes it gets pretty racy.” I had done it once or twice, and had never told anyone about it, but somehow this bewitching stranger seemed like a woman who’d understand.
She moved closer and said right in my ear, “And what exactly do you do with these computer babes?” Her hot breath tickled my skin and made my cock as hard as it had been before.
I gulped, figuring there was nothing to lose at this point. “Sometimes they punish me for being a bad boy. They tease me and beat me. But I’ve never done that in real life,” I said breathlessly, amazed that my deepest fantasies, ones I’d almost forgotten about because no woman I’d been with had seemed at all interested, had just come out of my mouth.
“How would you feel about living out some of those naughty games—with me?” Colleen asked. “I bet I could show you a good time, Matthew,” she purred.
“Yes,” was all I could manage to say, worried by this point that I might come in my pants right there in the café. I followed her out, my face burning, catching a quick glimpse of the barista, who gave me a thumbs-up sign.
My whole body was tingling with anticipation, wondering how far things would go with Colleen. She was not only beautiful, but she had a way of speaking and moving that made me want to follow her anywhere. I walked to her car and didn’t object when she told me to sit in the backseat. We drove in silence, with my cock pressing against the zipper of my pants, until we reached a small apartment building. As I stepped out of the car, she looked down, clearly noticing my erection. “Are you sure you’re ready?” she asked me. “Because once we start, I want you to be ready to take all that I give you,” she said, making sure of my decision.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, wanting to emphasize that I was hers for the taking.
We walked inside her apartment, and she proceeded to set down her things. When she’d hung up her coat and taken off her shoes, she turned to me with a grin and motioned me toward her. I went to her, and we kissed. The meeting of our lips sent shock waves of pleasure through my body, all the more so when she put her arms around me and trailed her long fingernails along the back of my neck. I moaned against her mouth, and she broke our kiss, smiling slightly. “Yes, I think you’re very ready,” she said to herself. “Follow me,” Colleen commanded, and I did, right into her bedroom.
She had a large four-poster bed, and I noticed that her open closet held all manner of kinky paraphernalia—a few whips, floggers, handcuffs, and paddles. I wasn’t surprised and felt my backside tingle with eagerness. She saw where my gaze had landed and pushed me onto the bed. “Strip,” she said, and I did, so quickly that on my first attempt I fumbled my zipper, but then I got it, releasing my hard cock. She seemed to approve, but didn’t say a word as she selected several items from her arsenal.
I lay down on my stomach to wait for her. She returned, but I kept my eyes closed out of deference to her. When she straddled my back, I felt that she’d changed, and her thighs were warm against my sides. I thought I felt something silky rub against my back as she leaned over me to lift my hands above my head and shackle them together. The cuffs weren’t the metal kind you see on cop shows; they were fuzzy on the inside and actually felt very nice. I moaned as I realized that I wasn’t going anywhere for a while.
I was expecting her to start spanking or flogging me, but what I didn’t plan on was a feather tickling me under my arms. At first, I laughed, my normal response when tickled, but the more she did it, the more my cock twitched. Colleen blew against my skin, further taunting me as the feather trailed down my back, tracing my asscrack and then brushing against my inner thighs. “Open up,” she said, and I did, spreading my legs to allow her to run the feather against my balls. Then she dropped it and used her fingers to tickle my armpits, making me moan.
Then it was time for my spanking. “You have a fabulous ass, Matt. I was checking it out when you went to get our coffee, and I had a feeling it’d be the perfect butt to lay my hands on,” Colleen said as she raised one hand and brought it down on my right cheek with a resounding smack. The sound competed with the sting as my body processed this new sensation, and then she did it again. She kept up a series of steady smacks while I simply lay there, occasionally rocking my hips, feeling the furry lining of the cuffs against my wrists as my hard cock rubbed against the sheets. Then she took a paddle and began whacking my butt with it, the sensations growing stronger as the heat permeated my lower half.
“I think you should get ten more whacks, then it’s time to play with that yummy cock of yours,” she said. “Count for me,” she demanded, and I did, saying each number out loud as her whacks got even stronger. Finally, we were up to ten, and the sweet pain she’d inflicted upon my ass was tempered by the soothing strokes of her soft hands.
Colleen turned me over, and I saw that she was wearing a black and red lace outfit that made her look even more attractive. Without saying anything, she slipped off her panties, leaving on the camisole that framed her breasts beautifully, and climbed on top of me. I still couldn’t move my arms and, utterly at her mercy, I let her fuck me. She took charge of my cock, sliding it between her pussy lips and then rocking forward and back, making sure her clit had the right stimulation to make her come. I longed to taste her, but that would be her decision, so I lay there as she pinched my nipples, her squeezing getting stronger as she got closer to orgasm. Finally, I felt that delicious tightening as her cunt wrapped itself snugly around my cock before a stream of her sweet juices jetted down onto me.
Then she shocked me by climbing off and taking my pussy-soaked dick between her lips, bringing me to orgasm within seconds.
“Well, Matt, for a beginner, you certainly take to being under a woman’s control quite well,” Colleen said as she unbound my wrists. “We should do this again very soon.” That was yesterday, and I can’t wait until the next time we see each other.
—Mr. Matt J., Eugene, Oregon
She Loves Nothing More Than Giving Up Control to Her Master
On the outside, I look like your average, everyday woman. I wear suits to work and sweats on the weekend. I’m married, live in the suburbs, have a house and a wonderful husband. But things are not as ordinary as they appear on the surface. Once my husband, Brad, and I are alone, the façade of simple domestic bliss falls away and I can settle into who I truly am: his devoted slave. Right after we got married five years ago, we also had another, more special, private ceremony in which I pledged myself to him, signing a contract saying he was in charge of my entire being. We’ve renewed it every year and I couldn’t be more pleased.
The first thing he does when I come into the house is attach my collar around my neck. We had it custom-fitted and engraved with the words “Slave Tracy belongs to Master Brad” and the date of our ceremony. When I hear the click of the metal clasp falling into place, my pussy throbs and my body slips further into obedience mode. I know the collar means that Brad will take care of me, and I consent to letting him have the run of my body during the time that I’m wearing it.
Last night was a typical one for us. “Get down on the floor, Tracy,” he said as soon as I was collared, his voice betraying none of the tenderness I know he’s capable of. When he’s in master mode, Brad becomes my tormentor, and I never know what to expect. I got on my hands and knees on the cold linoleum tile, already feeling my pussy contract with excitement. Being so close to the floor always makes me feel wild and feral, like an animal obeying her master’s command. Brad stood in front of me, fiddling with his zipper until his cock sprang free from his pants. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulging shaft. But when I opened my mouth, he teased me by stepping back, his meaty rod visible but out of my grasp. I whimpered as he finished undressing, knowing that I wasn’t allowed to move until he told me to. He walked back toward me, stark naked, yet every inch my commanding mas
ter.
He moved behind me and nudged my ass with his foot, my signal to start crawling. I wasn’t exactly sure where he wanted me to go, but feeling him following me so closely made my cunt produce trickles of juice that I was sure he could see. Then, just as we were about to reach a crossroads and I’d have to either climb the stairs or head into the basement, he stopped me. Sometimes I think Brad just wants to see what I’ll do, if I really will follow his every order. The answer is always yes.
He leaned down so that his body covered mine and I felt his cock resting against my backside. “Now, my slave, I have a special treat for you.” Brad likes to phrase things in a way that makes it sound like he’s doing me a favor, when really he’s issuing a command. Either way, I’m always eager for whatever he has in store. “Open your mouth,” he said, and when I did, he slid a small blue rubber ball gag between my lips, then fastened the chain behind my head. I moaned, feeling the saliva pooling in my mouth. He’d never gagged me before, though he had told me to be quiet on many an occasion. “That’s much better. Now there’s no chance the neighbors will hear you scream while I tease you.”
As he said this, he lightly stroked my pussy, then pinched my lips one at a time in a way that added to my arousal without actually leading me anywhere toward orgasm. When he pinched my clit, the heat seemed to pierce my core, making the emptiness inside me seem even larger. He shoved two fingers inside my wet cunt. “I bet you wish you could ask me to slide my cock inside you right now, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question, because I always want his cock inside me, especially when my cunt is dripping onto our living-room floor. He slapped his dick against my ass, reminding me once again how big and hard it was, and that I’d have to wait until he was ready to give me what I wanted the most. He pulled his fingers out, then trailed them up my backside, making me shudder as my own wetness tingled against my skin. He moved his wet fingers up until he reached my neck, where he lingered, caressing the delicate skin right below my hairline, just above the collar. With his other hand, he cupped my pussy, grinding his palm against my oozing slit.
I struggled to be absolutely quiet, knowing that for Brad, silence is golden, and any noise I made would surely delay his moment of entry. He tugged on the collar, and I could feel the metal pressing against my neck, just enough to make me feel its hard edge, without causing me any discomfort. My body trembled as he released his grip and then tugged again, my breathing erratic as he caught me off guard. When he finally let go of the collar and grabbed a fistful of my hair, tugging it gently so my head arched backward, I was so wet that my juice dribbled down my thighs. A slight moan involuntarily escaped my lips, audible even through the gag, and the sound echoed through the room. By then, Brad was just as turned on as I was, and he gave me a solid smack on each ass cheek when he heard the noise I made.
Then he held open my pussy lips with his thumbs, letting the air collide with my wet folds, making me wait a few more precious seconds for his cock. He knelt and I knew he was staring at my cunt, even though I couldn’t see him looking. I blushed at being so exposed to his gaze. “My slave,” he addressed me, formal as always, despite his hard dick. “It appears that you are extremely wet,” he said, swiping a finger along my slit. My cunt was begging to be filled, but he continued to toy with me, to show that he was in charge. I marveled at his ability to hold out. He went right on holding my nether lips open while he played with my pussy to his heart’s content. Finally, after what seemed like an almost interminable wait, he replaced his fingers with his cock. With no warning, he made the switch in seconds, claiming my cunt with his dick as he plunged inside me in one swift thrust. The contrast—from having just a single finger brushing lightly against my hungry slit to his meaty cock filling me all the way up—was divine.
As he thrust into me again and again, he grabbed the collar, holding me still. Brad raked his short nails down my back, then reached underneath me to cup my breasts while he fucked me. Even though I am his slave, Brad always gives me pleasure. This time was no exception. He squeezed my nipples hard, just the way I like it, and my pussy flooded with juice. He tugged on my hard nubs, pulling them, then tweaking them between his fingers, before swatting at my protruding nubs, softly hitting my breasts. My nipples became so pleasantly sensitive that even a gentle touch sent shudders through me, then centered in my hot pussy.
When he was done with my nipples, he put his hands on top of mine on the floor and shoved his cock into me as deeply and fiercely as he could. As much as I tried to clench my pussy around his hard cock to keep him inside, he kept moving back and forth, creating more and more friction.
I couldn’t hold out much longer, not with the way he was turning his hips and working his cock so that it met my G-spot every time he re-entered my pussy. I was relieved when he said, “On the count of three, I want you to come,” and then he ticked off the numbers. On “one,” he slammed into me with the roughest thrust yet, coming in a huge explosion of hot liquid, and I came, too, releasing my own juices around his cock.
He moved off me and pulled me on top of him. We were on the floor, but for me, lying on the warm, sweaty body of my loving, sexy master felt as comfortable as being on a bed of pillows. I’m so glad that he gets to see the real me, the one who comes out to play only for him.
—Ms. Tracy L., White Plains, New York
I Found the Perfect Husband: He Cleans and Comes on Demand
I hate cleaning the house. Left to my own devices, nothing would ever get dusted, and mildew and grime would take over. Luckily, my husband, Robert, loves doing domestic chores, and as a result of his dedication, our home is always impeccable, which doesn’t give me a lot of reasons to punish him. I think that’s why he sometimes “forgets” little things, like leaving a newspaper unfolded in the bedroom or an unwashed dish in the kitchen sink. When I see that, my pussy starts dripping immediately, although I don’t let my husband know how aroused I am. Instead, I yell his name loudly enough that he’ll hear me no matter where he is, and then he comes running.
The other night I found the clean laundry unfolded in its basket, while Robert watched a baseball game. “It’s tied in the bottom of the ninth,” he said by way of explanation, as though I might cut him some slack. But my cunt was already tingling at the thought of some well-deserved discipline, so I told him to turn off the TV and follow me to the bedroom.
When we got there, I told him to strip and then wait for me on his knees while I went into my dressing room to change. When I returned, his eyes widened upon seeing my black Merry Widow and stiletto-heeled boots, and his erection twitched. It’s the reaction I always receive when I wear that outfit. Or perhaps it was in response to the wooden paddle I was holding in one hand and slapping against the palm of the other.
I took a step toward him and pointed to my cunt. “Eat me,” I said, knowing I’d be able to concentrate on punishing him better once I’d gotten my first orgasm out of the way. Obediently, Robert crawled forward until his mouth was level with my crotch and then he undid the snaps of my black garment and breathed in the scent of my sex. He started raising his hands, but I quickly slapped them away. “Mouth only!” I snapped, so he dropped his arms to his sides and brought his face to the juncture of my thighs.
I grasped my husband’s head when he extended his tongue and touched it to my pussy. He swiped up and down between my naked labia to get at my inner lips, priming me for the main event. I began panting when he targeted my clit, wrapped his lips around it, and flicked it with his tongue. He was doing that so hard and so fast that he had trouble maintaining his balance in his crouched position. I held his head more tightly so that he wouldn’t fall on his ass. As my pleasure escalated, my grip on him tightened, and when he stiffened his tongue to thrust it into my hole, I came all over his handsome face.
I choked back a cry, but feeling the tremors of my body, Robert ceased licking me and looked up. “Did I say you could stop?” I barked, and he shook his head before casting his eyes to the floor. “First
the laundry, and now this,” I continued before telling him to get up and lean over my desk chair to present his ass.
I retrieved the paddle from where I’d left it on the dresser and moved behind my husband. His firm white buttocks, now so vulnerable, were a beautiful sight, and I was unable to resist reaching out and giving them a loving caress. Feeling his body relax at my touch, I raised my other arm and brought the paddle down on his cheeks. He moaned, so I did it again, his sounds of pleasure escalating. Then I gave him another firm smack, and another, and it wasn’t long before his perfect skin wasn’t so pale anymore.
I gazed down at Robert’s blushing ass, proud of my handiwork. He gripped the chair’s seat for support, as he anticipated the next swat. He was bucked forward when I laid another smack on his rosy cheeks. This one was a little harder than the previous few, and he let out a little grunt. “Silence!” I demanded, and he replied, “Yes, Mistress,” obediently. Hearing that pleased me, so I gave him a few more taps with my paddle until I felt like he’d had enough.
That’s when I noticed the puddle on the floor beneath him. Though it was small, it was too large to be pre-ejaculatory fluids that had dripped from his dick. Apparently, he had come, and without my permission, something he isn’t supposed to do. I guessed that he hoped I wouldn’t notice, but he should have known that something like that wouldn’t escape my attention.
I commanded him to rise and then turn to face me. His cock was now at half mast, confirming my suspicion that he’d had an orgasm. The look on his face was unmistakable, so I asked him to explain himself.
“You made me feel so good, Mistress,” he replied, and I regarded him for a moment before sending him downstairs for the Swiffer WetJet. When he returned, I sat on the bed and played with myself while he cleaned up his mess. As he pushed the mop back and forth, his cock once again rising to its full length, I pinched my nipples and rubbed my clit, making my juices drip over my fingers onto the sheets below my ass. Something else for him to clean, I thought to myself as I watched him carry out his task.
Letters to Penthouse XXXII Page 13
