Manhattan Kink: A Boxed Set

by Serafina Conti

  She looked at the man. He was middle aged, overweight and dressed all in latex. She didn’t like him. She glanced at his latex pants and didn’t see a snap or fly. “You got a penis in there?” she asked.

  “In there somewhere,” he said. “Pants gotta be peeled down if you want to find it.”

  “Do you have a condom?” she asked.

  “If you insist,” he said.

  “I do,” she said, got down on her knees, and pulled down his pants.

  About ten minutes later, he pulled out of her pussy, peeled off the condom, and said, “What do I do with this?”

  “Dispose of it responsibly,” said Pipit, and turned away in time to see Emily pull out of the girl. She rubbed her back as she lay panting on the mat. Pipit thought they were beautiful together. The girl got up and embraced Emily, and they kissed tenderly. Pipit watched them chat, impatient for the girl to go.

  “Pretty fuck-toy,” said a man’s voice beside her.

  “Maybe later,” she said without turning to look.

  Finally Emily and the girl said their goodbyes and moved in different directions. Pipit intercepted Emily before she got to the door.

  “Hi, Emily,” she said shyly.

  “Hi, Pipit!” said Emily warmly, and gave her a hug.

  “I was watching you with that girl,” said Pipit. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Emily laughed. “Aren’t all BDSM people exhibitionists? I’m glad you were there to see.”

  “I saw your clit-ring . . . from a distance. It’s really pretty.”

  “Thanks,” said Emily. She paused for a few awkward seconds and then said, “This is a really great place! I bet it’s fun to work here.”

  “Yeah,” said Pipit. “It’s good. I get whipped and humiliated every day. But it doesn’t mean anything, you know?”

  “You mean, like, those things are better in a relationship?”

  “Like it’s better when they’re punishment.”

  Emily sighed, “I love punishment.”

  “Giving it or getting it?”

  “Both, I guess. I haven’t given it too often, and I’ve had mixed feelings about it, but, yeah, it turned me on.”

  Pipit glanced down for a moment and then looked at Emily again. “I sort of daydream about you punishing me.”

  Emily looked at her curiously. “Why do I punish you in your daydreams?”

  “For being a bitch. Or, I don’t know, just because you want to.”

  “What kinds of things do I do to you when I punish you?”

  “Sometimes you tie me up and whip me. You yell at me and tell me I’m an evil cunt.” Pipit was getting excited saying these things. “Sometimes you edge me with a vibrator. Sometimes you . . . you make me fuck a strange man, and then you lock me in a cage for being a slut.”

  “Do you really want me to punish you?” Emily asked.

  It was what Pipit wanted more than anything in the world. It was useless to try to explain that, though, so she just said, “Yes.” She hastened to add, “You can say no if you want, it’s okay. And you don’t have to do it now—I just mean, you know, sometime.”

  “But there are lots of strange men here, and you’re a fuck-toy tonight. No time like the present, right?”

  Pipit’s pussy tingled. She couldn’t have hoped for anything better than this. “Thank you, Emily,” she said, surprised by how girlish she sounded.

  Emily smiled. “You’re welcome. Do you know where everything is in this place?”

  “A lot of it.”

  “Do you think you could find like some cuffs? And some lube? Oh, yeah, and some nipple clamps?”

  “Sure!” said Pipit, and ran off towards a cabinet. She found a pair of cuffs that could be fastened together with a short length of chain, a pair of nipple clamps connected by a thin chain, and a little bottle of lubricant.

  Pipit brought her treasures to Emily, who led her to one of the rough wooden posts. “Kneel,” she said, and pushed her down so she was sitting on her heels and her back was flat against the post. She cuffed Pipit’s wrists behind the post, then stepped back to admire her work. She leaned down, parted Pipit’s knees, and stepped back again. “You look good,” she said. “Exactly like a fuck-toy.”

  Emily came to stand beside Pipit, holding the nipple clamps. Some seconds passed.

  “Emily?” said Pipit.

  “Yes?”

  “What’s going to happen?”

  “We’re going to wait for the right man to come along. Do you want to choose?”

  “No, Emily. It’ll work better if you choose.”

  “Okay.”

  Pipit said, “Emily?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Could you call me Tosatsu if you introduce me to anyone? That’s how I’m called at Mistress Shigemi’s. Pipit is kind of, you know, infamous. I don’t want to be Pipit tonight.”

  “Tosatsu,” said Emily, memorizing the name. “Sure, no problem. Now don’t talk to anyone but me. Understand?”

  “Yes, Emily,” said Pipit, surprised by how submissive she felt at that moment.

  The warehouse was filling up. Some people were chatting, eating, and drinking in little groups, some were staging their scenes, and some were wandering around.

  A gray-haired man of about sixty, wearing leather pants and no shirt, stopped in front of them. “What’s this?” he said.

  Emily said, “This is my bitch Tosatsu. She’s in heat, and I’m looking for a good stud dog to fuck her.”

  Pipit’s face got hot, and she stared at the floor.

  “Will I do?” the man asked.

  Emily looked at him critically. “What breed are you?” she asked.

  “Millionaire CEO,” he said.

  Pipit looked up again. The man looked pretty good, actually.

  “Not billionaire?” asked Emily.

  “Not quite.”

  “Maybe another time,” said Emily.

  “Maybe you should ask her,” said the man.

  “I can see you don’t know much about dogs,” said Emily.

  The man harrumphed and moved on.

  Pipit said, “Emily?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Why not him?”

  “I didn’t like him.”

  “Here’s a sight,” said a familiar voice.

  “Hi, Frederick!” said Emily brightly.

  He was more handsome than Pipit remembered, with short sandy hair, a close-cropped beard, and an immaculately pressed dark gray suit. He said, “Two former slaves, hanging out together. No hello for your old Master, Pipit?”

  “I’ve forbidden her to speak. And her name is Tosatsu tonight.”

  “I see she’s a fuck-toy. That seems right. Why is she cuffed to this post?”

  “She’s my bitch. A toy breed in fact. She’s in heat, and I’m waiting for the right stud dog to come along. Are you interested?”

  “I’m not a toy breed. I’m more wolf—like yourself. I might be interested in you.”

  “Are you gay, Frederick?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  “Can’t you see I’m male tonight?” she said, stroking her strap-on dildo.

  “I see a beautiful woman with a strap-on and some amazing tattoos. Would you mind turning so I can get the full effect?”

  Emily twirled quickly, like a ballerina.

  “I wouldn’t mind getting reacquainted with those tattoos,” he said.

  “You know I’m spoken for,” said Emily coquettishly. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in Tosatsu? You could try a face-fuck—like a test drive, you know. I’ve put her at just the right height for it.”

  Frederick leaned down, pried Pipit’s mouth open with a thumb, and peered inside. “I’m tempted,” he said, “but toy or not, she’s a dangerous breed. The kind that’s been known to turn on its owner. Be very careful if you play with her, Famula.”

  Pipit’s face heated up again. He put a finger under her chin and closed her mouth.

  He looked at Emily and
said, “If you ever find yourself in need of a Master, you know where to find me.”

  A young woman came up beside him. She was wearing just a collar and short brown hair. She had a starburst tattoo to the left of her mound and “FREDERICK’S SLAVE” written in marker on her thigh. She took his arm, looked curiously at Emily and Pipit, and said, “Master?”

  “Some old friends,” he said. “This is La Chose, my slave for the evening.”

  “I guess you’re not in need of my bitch tonight,” said Emily.

  “I guess not,” said Frederick. “I hope to see you again, though,” he added, looking at Emily, and led his slave away.

  Being humiliated by Frederick had turned Pipit on. “He’s hot, Emily,” she said.

  “He’s always been hot,” said Emily. “Why did you leave him, baby?”

  “Most of my reasons weren’t good ones. But play with him was so painful. Don’t you think?”

  “No, it was just right,” said Emily. “I’m glad he didn’t notice I was dripping. If he’d turned on the charm, I’d have been lost.”

  Emily turned away two men and one woman over the next ten minutes.

  “What are you looking for, Emily?” asked Pipit.

  “I don’t know, baby. I’ll know it when I see it. Oh, look! There’s Christopher.” She waved at him cheerily, and he came over, looking professorial in a Harris tweed jacket with khaki slacks.

  “It’s good to see you, Emily,” he said, ignoring Pipit, who stared at the floor, heart in her throat.

  “Good to see you, too, Christopher. You remember my bitch here? Her name’s Tosatsu tonight.”

  Christopher glanced at Pipit and said, “Okay, I’ll bite. What are you two up to?”

  “She’s my bitch, as I said. She’s in heat, and I’m looking for the right stud dog to fuck her.”

  “Good luck to you there,” he said. Pipit wished she could vanish or drop dead.

  Emily lifted Pipit’s head by the hair and said, “Why don’t you give her a go? Just fuck her throat a little for old times’ sake? She’s still got her tonsils, you remember.”

  “I wouldn’t mind going over old times with you.”

  “We weren’t such a great couple, Christopher, but Mistress Ai is always saying you and my bitch here were perfect for each other.”

  “I’m done with her,” said Christopher.

  “Stick around and watch, anyway,” said Emily. “You know she puts on a good show.”

  “I’ll give her that,” said Christopher, and moved away.

  After he was gone, Emily said, “Do you ever miss him, baby?”

  “Yeah,” said Pipit. “Seeing him again made me wet. No one understands humiliation better than he does.”

  That’s when Pipit saw Andrew enter the warehouse. He paused and stared, something like fear in his eyes. Then he recovered and made a beeline for them.

  Emily saw him at the same moment and said, “Here’s your fuck.”

  “No, Emily!” Pipit cried, suddenly terrified. “Not your Master!”

  “You know him?” said Emily, turning to her.

  Pipit’s stomach lurched. But of course it was all right. “I met him at Mistress Ai’s the day he was a slave there.”

  “And there’s some special reason why you can’t fuck my Master?” said Emily.

  “He’s yours, Emily. It wouldn’t be right.” It didn’t seem right, either, quite apart from what he and Pipit had been up to, but it would have been hard for her to untangle the rights and wrongs well enough to articulate them.

  “It’s all right, baby,” said Emily. “We’re non-exclusive.”

  Andrew came up to them and said, “This is an interesting scene. What are you up to?”

  “Tosatsu says you two have met,” said Emily.

  “Yes, at Mistress Ai’s,” said Andrew.

  “She’s my bitch tonight, Master,” said Emily. “She’s in heat and she needs a stud dog to fuck her. You’d be ideal.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s been a busy night, and I’m tired.”

  “You could try a face-fuck, you know, for a trial run. I’ve positioned her just right for that, you see. I can help you get ready, if you like.”

  Pipit wanted Andrew to face-fuck her, but since she was forbidden to speak, she just looked at the floor.

  “You can fuck her pussy or ass, Master,” said Emily.

  “Okay, Emily,” said Andrew. “As a favor to you, I’ll do my best to fuck Tosatsu.”

  Emily opened Andrew’s zipper and pulled out his cock, which wasn’t hard yet. “I want to help, Master,” she whispered, sank to her knees, and helped him get ready.

  It was beautiful to watch Emily suck Andrew’s cock. She was passionate, not just sucking but making love to it, lost in the ecstasy of giving pleasure to her Master. Soon he was hard, and Emily said, “Fuck Tosatsu’s face now, Master.”

  Andrew stepped towards her. Emily put a hand behind Pipit’s head and urged her forward. Pipit opened her mouth, and Andrew placed a hand on top of her head and pushed into her.

  * * *

  Emily kept an eye on Master as he fucked Pipit’s mouth. His tiredness was passing off and his excitement was growing. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for in his face. She’d seen a glimmer of something as he’d come through the door—it wasn’t just recognition, but something else, maybe alarm. But the moment had passed, and now she couldn’t see anything in him but lust and excitement. It had to have been her imagination—residual distrust from the time that she and Pipit had fought.

  Emily reached for Pipit’s head, sank her fingers into the thick hair at the base of her braid, and shoved her forward hard, making her gag with loud liquid noises. Master smiled, and Emily felt a little burst of pleasure down below her breasts. She pushed again, and Pipit coughed out some clear, thick drool, which roped down to a viscous puddle on the floor between her legs.

  “Let’s take her over there,” said Andrew, nodding towards a bench along the wall. Emily undid Pipit’s cuffs, picked up the bottle of lubricant, again sank her fingers into her thick hair, and hauled her towards the bench, following Andrew. Pipit scrambled along beside her on her hands and knees.

  Andrew sat on the bench, and Pipit crawled between his legs and once again started to suck. She hummed excitedly as Emily lubricated her ass, watching Andrew’s face. He met her gaze and smiled.

  “Tosatsu loves butt-fucking. Right, baby?”

  “Mmm,” said Pipit, still sucking Andrew’s cock.

  Emily thrust her dildo into Pipit’s ass, reached forward, and pushed her head down. Pipit choked and coated Andrew’s balls with drool.

  “She’s good, don’t you think, Master?”

  “A good fellatrix,” he said, putting a hand behind her head and pulling her down, making her cough and splutter again. Emily loved sharing a toy with Andrew this way: it made her feel closer to him somehow.

  A little while later Andrew said, “Give me a turn in her ass.” They switched places: Emily pulled off her harness and sat on the bench while Master put on a condom and pushed into Pipit from behind. Emily had taught him rough ass-fucking, and he rammed her furiously as she sobbed into Emily’s pussy. Pipit was as good at cunnilingus as she was at sucking cock: her tongue and lips were doing amazing things to Emily’s nervous system. She loved the sensations and Pipit’s theatrical sobs, but she focused on Master—his ecstatic expression, the sweat breaking out on his body, the way he held her gaze, as if it was Emily he was fucking, not Pipit.

  “Come,” he whispered, and Emily’s body responded to the command instantly: she pulled Pipit’s head into her and smashed her pussy into her lips and tongue, crying out loudly, looking into Master’s smiling face all the while.

  * * *

  Pipit was thrilled to make Emily come—to feel her body’s spasms, taste her moist passion, and see her face radiant and transported. It’s not as if she hadn’t made women come before, but there was something different this time, a quality she’d
never experienced. She knew what it was, too. Emily and Andrew were the center of her world right now, and the target of all her obsessive emotional energy, her love and hate—and here she was, sucking Emily’s clit, hood, ring, and all, and Andrew was hammering her ass. She felt their love and energy arcing between Andrew’s cock and Emily’s clit, right through her body, ass to mouth, and she was distorting and perverting it as she transmitted it. Oh, this was where she needed to be and what she needed to be doing—coming between these lovers, connecting them and splitting them apart.

  Well, the two of them would figure it out soon, and Pipit’s game would be over, but right now Andrew was pulling out of her ass, yanking her upright by her braid, and she was pivoting on one knee in time to see him strip the condom from his empurpled cock, put a hand in her hair, and pull while Emily shoved her head from behind. She relaxed all her muscles and let them control her, let her arms hang, fingers curled, let him fuck her throat till his cum spurted into her—not so much now, but it felt good.

  She was about to swallow it when Emily, now on her knees beside her, seized her shoulders, turned her, and kissed her. Pipit let Andrew’s cum run into her, and Emily’s kiss became warmer, like a thank you, and her tongue probed into Pipit’s mouth as if searching out the rest of Andrew there, and her kiss was sweet and loving. Sharing this moment with her was a heaven.

  But misery swept into Pipit behind the pleasure, as it always did. She’d been so happy, naked with her mouth and ass full, cum jetting into her, a crowd watching—how could she love such depravity? Her pussy and ass were sore, and so was her skanky soul. She collapsed against Emily and cried, hearing her stern father’s voice hissing “Abomination!”

  “It’s okay, Master,” Emily said, putting her arms around Pipit. “I’ll take care of her.”

  Andrew hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, but then nodded and left them. Emily whispered, “You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you?”

  Pipit sniffled and nodded.

  “Speak to me,” said Emily. “Say it out loud.”

  Pipit said, “I’ve been a bad . . .” but had to stop because the words caught in her throat.

  “You didn’t quite get it out, baby. Try again.”