by Cathryn Fox
She gave it squeeze, and his eyes rolled up.
Then Fanny did something impossible to do with her mouth or hands; she began to spin the device around the base of Peter’s shaft, watching with glee as his whole body tensed and shook.
“It’s really that good?” she asked.
“It’s… ungh… it’s…”
Fanny stopped all movement, and Peter’s hips began to thrust inside the Tenga, in a completely involuntary way. Fanny thought of the many times Peter had tested the newest vibrator on her, teasing her to the point where she had no control. She finally understood the feeling he had when working on her. With some simple twists of her hand she could make him moan, sigh, and shudder. She felt the same power and arousal while giving head.
Fanny began to tease him, alternating fast strokes with short ones, twisting it around his glans.
“Do you like this?”
“Unhhh… yes.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Please don’t.”
Fanny recalled last year, the Institute’s annual Bondage Buffet. Peter had been particularly cruel to her, teasing her poor, dripping pussy with a Hitachi wand (also available on Amazon) but not letting her come unless he was allowed to spank her first.
“You seem close to orgasm,” she said.
He nodded, rolling his hips.
Fanny pulled the Tenga off of him. Peter’s eyelids snapped opened, his face the perfect picture of disappointment. His cock, glistening with lube, had a reddish tint, all the veins on it pulsing.
“Stand up,” she ordered. He did, immediately, not even bothering to question why.
“Remember the Bondage Buffet?” Fanny asked, smiley wickedly.
Peter grimaced. “You want to spank me, don’t you? You know that’s not my kink, Fanny.”
“So it turns you on to do it to me, but turnabout isn’t fair play?”
“How about I go down on you instead?”
Fanny considered it. Peter was Level Six in cunnilingus, and just imagining his tender mouth between her legs was enough to make her squeal.
But not now… that could be for after. First, she wanted to prove to him that a proper spanking could be a turn on for men as well as women.
“Bend forward,” Fanny ordered. “Legs apart, hands behind your back.” She gave Peter’s shaft a quick stroke to encourage him. When he assumed the position, she stood at his side and forced his manhood into the Tenga. When Peter grunted, she gave his perfectly shaped ass a hard slap.
“Every time you thrust, you get a spank. Understood?”
“Yes.
Peter stood completely still, not moving his hips an inch. Fanny smiled at the futility of his efforts. With vigor, she began to pump him with the Tenga, hard and fast, as if she was nearing the end of an epic blow job.
Peter shook.
She stopped suddenly, and as Fanny had expected, he began to thrust into the Tenga.
Spank! Spank! Spank!
Once again he stopped moving. But Fanny had been on the receiving end of this game before, and she knew how it ended.
Slowly, gently, she slid the Tenga up Peter’s shaft, then tickled his tip with the opening. His cock bounced and jerked, begging for attention, but she only allowed him to penetrate the toy and inch, and only for a moment before she withdrew.
Peter’s whole body began to perspire, but he still refused to thrust his hips.
Placing the Tenga halfway onto his shaft, Fanny rocked it back and forth, slowly so he could feel every slick bump and ridge inside. Then she cupped his pendulous balls and weighed them in her palm.
“They’re heavy,” she said. “So full of come.”
She tugged on them, softly, and Peter lost self-control and began to thrust into the Tenga again, wildly this time.
Fanny spanked him ten times in rapid succession, turning his perfectly shaped ass into a lovely shade of fire engine red, before Peter once again stopped.
“Are you enjoying this?” Fanny asked, giving the Tenga a pump.
Peter blew out a big breath, and managed to nod.
“Tell me what you want?”
“To fuck you.”
Fanny wanted that too. Teasing and spanking Peter like this was bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. But Hoyt demanded a report on the Tenga.
“We’re still testing the product, Peter. Tell me what you want.”
“To come.”
“You want to come inside the Tenga?”
“Yes. Please.”
She pumped it on him, fast, until his hips began to shake. Then she stopped suddenly and he whimpered.
“Please, Fanny. I can’t take it.”
“So what do you want?” she teased, stroking him slowly.
Peter sighed. “I want you to…”
“Yes?”
“I want you to spank me.”
Fanny offered a fake pout and removed the Tenga. “You don’t sound like you mean it.”
“Please, Fanny!” Peter implored. “I want you to spank me.”
Fanny began to spank him again, while Peter’s cock bobbed in empty air. He started to groan and writhe, and she could tell he was enjoying it. Only then did she fit him back into the Tenga and stroke him as she spanked. It didn’t take long before his body tensed, and he made one of the loudest groans she’s ever heard him make as he came.
Incredibly horny, Fanny unzipped her pants and shoved them and her panties down her thighs. She was about to climb into some stirrups and demand that Peter use his level 6 technique on her when—
“Fanny? Peter? I need to talk to you.”
Milo, at the door.
He looked freaked out.
Fanny wasn’t sure what to do, and for a moment she just stood there, aroused and naked from waist to knees. She needed release so badly. But her newest employee had been with her newest client, and if something had gone wrong Fanny needed to know about it immediately.
Forcing a fake smile to cover her sexual frustration, Fanny looked up at Milo and said, “Of course, Milo. My door is always open. Tell me what the problem is.”
She pulled up her pants, gave Milo a glass of water, and invited him to sit.
Milo was half way to the iCliner when he spilled it. “Susie’s real name is Dwanna. I dated her once. And now I’m afraid I’m not objective enough to use my sexpertise on her.”
“You have feelings for her?” Fanny asked.
Milo looked at the floor. “Yes.”
“And did something happen during your session? Something that upset you?”
“She just needs someone professional and objective.” Milo said. Fanny could tell he was trying hard to be brave. “So I’m withdrawing myself from her case.”
Fanny narrowed her eyes. “I’d have to agree. What do you think, Peter?”
Peter was sitting on the clinic bed, holding the Tenga in his arms like he was rocking a baby to sleep.
“Peter!”
“Uh, yeah. He’s too close to the client. He should be replaced. But that could also prove traumatic for her, so I think Milo should be the one to tell her.”
Fanny nodded. “Agreed.” And maybe Milo could smooth over whatever it was that he didn’t want to talk about.
“We should probably supervise,” Peter said. “And then I can take her over myself.”
“Agreed.”
Fanny pushed away her disappointment. Her pussy was still wet and humming, and yet once again, she’d have to set her own needs aside to tend to the needs of others.
“Tell her, Milo. We’ll be in the observation room if you need us.”
Chapter Seven
By the time the door opened again and Milo slipped back inside, Dwanna had changed out of the sexy leather strap contraption and back into the silky institute robe. She should have pulled on her sackcloth and underwire, too, but she hadn’t been able to face all the hooks and buttons. Her hands were still shaking too hard.
“Hi,” said Milo.
“Hi.” Dwanna said, wrapping
her arms around her waist. She’d managed to stop crying and to wipe her eyes, but seeing him, the tears misted her vision once again.
“I asked for you to be reassigned.”
“You did what?”
“It’s for the best. What I did was unforgivable.”
“Unforgivable? You made me feel good, Milo. You made me feel terrific.” Dwanna gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. What was she saying? He was right. It was unforgivable, what he’d done. Naughty. Corrupt. And yet, she wanted more.
What did that make her?
“Peter Bonebury will be taking over your case. He’s really good. Experienced.”
Dwanna nodded and wrapped her silken robe tighter around her nudity. Peter might be terrific and handsome and wonderful for all she knew, but she didn’t want him. She wanted Milo.
And what was worse, she shouldn’t want anybody!
Of all the things she’d messed up in her life, of all the disappointments she’d given Mother, this was the worst. She wasn’t here to fall for Milo or to feel good or to have, um, orgasms. She was here to resist. To spy. To help Mother and the foundation destroy the Siemann Institute and everyone in it.
And that meant Chastity.
And that meant Milo.
And all the rest of the people who had not been anything but nice to her even though she hadn’t been very nice back. But then, didn’t the foundation teach that only the pure deserved any kind of consideration? Wasn’t punishment doing the impure a favor? Forcing them to change?
She was so confused.
“Well, I guess it’s time for me to go. It’s been nice knowing you, Dw—I mean Susie.” He turned and started for the door, the tight leather chaps creaking a little as he walked, his rear looking so very—
“Wait.” The word slipped out before she could call it back.
Milo stopped and looked at her, his hand on the doorknob.
“I don’t want you to go.”
What was she doing? She liked Milo. She really did. She didn’t want to destroy him, and she didn’t want to spy. But if she refused, she’d be kicked out of the foundation, and Mother would disown her.
“I mean, I want to give you a hug before you go. Since this is goodbye and all.”
“Uh, okay.” Milo returned to her side and held out his arms.
For a second, she thought she might faint, but then she stepped into his arms and let them wrap around her.
“Are you going to hug back?” Milo asked.
Dwanna looped her arms around his shoulders, their bodies tight together. The closer his body was to hers, the more her breasts pressed against his hard chest, and the more her pelvis pressed against the bulge in those leather underwear, the more trouble she was having with her breathing. She’d have to stop hugging him and let him go, but somehow she didn’t want to. In fact, she was now doing some weird shimmying thing with her hips, sort of on purpose.
Being next to him, even in this sort of clothed hug, was amazing. She felt as if something silvery and light was rushing through her veins, leaving her flushed and exhilarated. And then from deep inside her a voice spoke, one she’d never heard before.
I want.
What? What did she want?
Him.
“Susie? I really should go now so you can get on with your lessons, okay?”
She looked up into Milo’s dark and handsome face, and saw his kindness and his concern, and his strong chin and soft mouth and a glimpse of his pink tongue when he spoke.
She’d fought that inner voice, those urgent needs for so long, she hadn’t contemplated that maybe she could just give in to them, accept them, enjoy them, take control of them, own them, etcetera, etcetera, redundant, redundant. But that’s what Milo had been trying to teach her, wasn’t it? He’d taken the heavy yoke of responsibility off her shoulders, the shackles of the foundation’s teaching, of Mother’s expectations, and he’d replaced them with real shackles.
And the moment he’d done that, she’d never felt so free.
She didn’t want to give that up.
At least not yet.
Dwanna leaned into Milo’s strong body. “I just feel so, so…”
“Good?”
Good. Free. Eager. “Hungry.”
“I can tell Peter to bring you something to eat. He does this awesome therapy with food, you—”
“I’m not hungry for food.”
“For what?”
“For… for everything I’ve been missing.” Her voice came out differently, softer, a bit breathless. She started panicking and then found that for some reason she couldn’t panic. What was with that? Dwanna could always panic. Besides hating herself, it was her most reliable skill.
“Oh, Susie.” He touched her cheek. “You are an amazingly sensual woman.”
“Sensual?” But that was bad, wasn’t it? Mother would think it was bad.
She shook her head. She didn’t want to think about Mother or the foundation. She didn’t even care that they were watching her now, listening to what she was saying. She wanted to catch up on all she’d missed. All she had yet to discover.
And just that second, she didn’t care if everyone in the world knew it.
“Sensual. Sexual. You can do it, Susie. You can take that next step. Whatever you want, you can have. Just tell Peter what it is.”
“I don’t want Peter. I want you.”
“You want me?”
I want you touching me.
“I want…” She stared at the floor. She couldn’t manage the words.
“Show me.”
Dwanna felt as if she was standing on the edge of an abyss. One step forward, and she’d plunge into the unknown. But she knew she couldn’t go back.
She took a deep breath, took Milo’s hands in hers, and plopped them directly on her breasts.
Milo let out a little shuddering sigh, then his hands started moving, cupping, massaging through the thin, silken fabric. “Your breasts are a miracle.”
She wanted to protest, to say they were hideous. But then he was touching them reverently, and she just stood there while he slipped off the robe and the horrific orbs were right there, dangling absurdly on her slender body like they were made for someone three times her size.
Milo made a groaning noise at the sight of them. His palms grazed across her nipples.
More.
He stroked them both, making her shivery, then he bent and took one into his mouth. The pleasure nearly made her scream at the same time any shock or revulsion was washed away, bit by bit, under a wave of warmth.
Suck me.
He sucked her, fondling her other nipple with his fingers, the pleasure doubling. An empty ache started to throb in her Sacred Place.
Milo lifted her onto the iCliner as if she weighed nothing. He pushed her knees apart. Cool air fanned her nakedness.
Touch me there.
Milo knelt, pushing a button on the iCliner so her spread legs came up to mouth level. He brought his face down onto her. His tongue was warm and clever, and for a moment, she didn’t feel any horror or shame or embarrassment, in fact, she loved watching him lick at her, loved the way his pink tongue moved her pink lips back and forth, how they settled on the tiny pink button at the top and—
HOLY SHIT!
Her breath started coming fast and hard, and the pleasure interrupted her horror at even thinking such a sinful phrase as holy shit.
But holy shit! It was happening again… she was going to… she was almost there… almost…
Oh … my!
She leaned back, spreading her legs as wide as possible. He thrust a finger inside her and she felt something growing and gathering, a wave crashing… a fire raging… the earth moving…
No wait, that was Hemingway.
But whatever the metaphor, the most intense pleasure she’d experienced yet overtook her, lifted her to a burning hot place and then let her soar deliciously down, her core doing a celebratory dance of some kind, moving to a regular involuntary
rhythm.
Oh my goodness. Oh sweet non-Purity!
She gazed dazedly at Milo, who was smiling at her with pride and tenderness, his face glistening with her juices.
Yes, her juices.
“What do you want now, Susie?”
I want more.
“I want … I want … I want …”
The words. She still couldn’t get her mouth to say the words. She looked down at his crotch, at his bulge, at his …
“Do you want my cock, Susie?”
Gracious! “Uh … um … yes.”
“Ask for it.”
“I …”
“Yes?”
“I want …”
“Yes?”
“I want your… cock.”
She’d done it! She’d said it! She was so excited about her victory, she was almost surprised when he pulled down the zipper in his leather underwear, and his entire, hard length sprang free. She shrieked, but instead of in horror or pain, this shriek was sheer delight.
Thick and long and lovely. She reached for him, skimming her fingertips over his silken skin, working from the base up to the tip, firm yet soft, like the head of a mushroom.
A delicious mushroom.
“What would you like me to do with my cock, Susie?” Milo asked.
Stick it inside me.
The voice in her head was growing clearer, stronger. She opened her mouth, closed it, then reached for his hips, pulling his magnificent Toole toward her Sacred Place.
He pushed the soft pink tip up against her opening. Then he pushed, and she watched fascinated as it started disappearing up inside her, and the most wonderful, wonderful feelings started licking all the way up and down her body, feelings she seemed to have an endless appetite for.
He started moving his hips, in and out, sweet and slow.
Dwanna wrapped her legs around his back. “Deeper,” she said.
Milo obliged, grabbing her hips, he scooted her closer, holding her as he thrust. With each plunge, he filled her, his body grinding against her sensitive nub. The delicious build started again, becoming hotter and wilder and more and more all-encompassing and then she fell into it, screaming.
YES! YES! YES! YES! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
She wasn’t aware of anything but the thrust, the pleasure gripping her, bordering on pain. And when the wave subsided, she was holding fistfuls of Milo’s hair, which she was very glad to find were still attached to his head. She was panting like a crazy person, her body wrapped around him, probably half-suffocating him with her breasts, though he didn’t seem to mind.
