Sexual Solstice

by Bradley, Tracey B.

“Well she didn’t like what I was into, you know. I guess it bothered her. Differences in the bedroom. You can’t always trust people are going to be understanding when you open up.”

  “You opened up?”

  “I tried, but it freaked her out. She couldn’t get over it. She kicked me out. But the kids are great, old enough to understand that people have their differences. Modern kids you know.”

  “So here you are in a jail cell on Christmas eve?”

  “It’s not so bad.”

  “No?”

  “No, at least the others who have families can enjoy their time.”

  “Oh.”

  “And––

  “And?”

  “And Chinese food with a beautiful red head isn’t exactly the booby prize.”

  “You’re not so much a booby prize yourself.”

  “I guess I am with my perverted preferences.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If my wife thinks it crazy, I doubt anyone else is going to go along with it.”

  The two finished their takeout and then Gillian wiped her hands and spoke, “Try me. If you don’t squeal I’ll tell you a secret––I just did it with two dancers and an actor, all at once. I held my own. I feel like a true patron of the Arts. Tell that to your wife.”

  “Really? God. We spend most of the day seeing people who mess it all up with heroin or crack or some kind of messed up fight. Enough to make you think fun times like that just don’t exist.”

  “So, go ahead. What’s this preference?”

  “Well, like I said, we spend a lot of time putting people in hand cuffs, threatening them with the billyclub, the usual. And just once I would love to be cuffed, really hard you know, and have someone just really bring me to my knees. Fuck it’s all that’s on my mind sometimes. I have to stay sitting at my desk because once I start thinking about it, it gives me the most painful boner. There. Now you know. Not much fun for you, I’m afraid.” The Sergeant packed up the bags and tossed them in the bin.

  “Don’t speak so soon. It is Christmas after all and just maybe the odd good boy gets a kind of a bad boy present. What do you think?”

  “You’d be willing? Frankly I’d go nuts if you were to comply. You are so damn hot. And I need someone tall to really give it to me.”

  Gillian felt herself warm to the idea; her pulse raced at the thought of toppling this giant. “I might surprise you. But what you’ll have to do it put those handcuffs on me first, and don’t lock them.”

  “Okay.” The Sergeant gently placed the handcuffs on Gillian’s delicate wrists.

  “Good, now let’s do a little, you know, role play. I want you to be the officer, I mean the Sergeant, and I’ll be me––but you have to be the Sergeant that your fantasy says you are.”

  “Okay.”

  Gillian started, “Sergeant, oh Sergeant, can you help me? These cuffs are so uncomfortable. Could you please help me loosen them, just a bit?” The Sergeant came close, “Ma’am I’m afraid you’ll have to keep––”

  Gillian pretended to karate chop the Sergeant and he pretended to bend over, “Ooooh, ouch.”

  “Yes ouch, and take that.” Gillian slipped the cuffs off her wrists and placed one on the Sergeant’s wrists. Then she pulled him to the bars by the entrance to the cell, pulled the cuff through the bars and attached the other cuff to his hand. “Now you are going to tell me where there are more cuffs.”

  “There are some over there in the table by the door. Please don’t hurt me.”

  Gillian went to the table, opened the drawer and pulled out two more pair. “Aha, You bastard. I am going to make you pay for this, and how. She came back to the Sergeant who was pretending to hang off of the bars by his wrists. “Don’t hurt me. No, you can’t hurt me, please.” Gillian took in the length of that tall drink of water, wanted to devour him.

  “Oh don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you much. Now let me get those socks off your big feet, you oaf.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. And the least you can do is cooperate.”

  “Okay.”

  Gillian crouched down and pulled off the Sergeant’s socks, revealing massive wide feet with perfect toes. “You get a pedicure?”

  “I write it off.”

  “You’ll pay for it now!.” She took his left foot and pulled the sole up and started to tickle the soft palm of his foot. “How do you like that?” But it was Gillian who was under the spell of ecstasy at touching such a large and sensitive part of such a large guy.

  “You’re driving me nuts. Actually you are. I am very ticklish. You’re giving me a hard-on”

  “Really? I wish you hadn’t told me.” Gillian’s arousal was mounting. She wanted to shove the big feet between her thighs. She held one massive foot, then the other and guided the cuffs around his ankles and onto the bars. Soon the Sergeant was thoroughly attached. She would save the tickling for later. “Now just what is it that your wife doesn’t want you to get up to around here?”

  “Oh all kinds of stuff from being cuffed and helpless to being, well, fucked with a billyclub.”

  “Okay buddy you asked for it.” Gillian reached her hands around the Sergeant’s waist and undid his belt, then his pant clip and then his zipper. She pulled at the pants and they slid over his bum and boxer shorts. She fought to contain herself and remain in the roleplay.

  “Hmmm, boxers. I see a whole new kettle of fish here.”

  “Please don’t hurt me,” fake-cried the Sergeant, doing a very authentic effort to make his voice crack.

  “I’ll have to take off your shirt if you don’t want me to hurt you.” Gillian reached up and undid the buttons, one by one, realising when she got to the bottom that she should have taken his shirt off before attaching him to the bars. “Shit, um, okay. I’m going to have to pull your shirt over your head and bring it close to your hands.

  “Don’t hurt me Miss, please don’t hurt me or hurt my shirt. I just couldn’t bear to have to get another shirt.”

  “And your tank-top. I’m going to have to take off your tank top. I don’t care how much you complain.” Gillian realized that much of her apprehension and arousal was due to the fact that she thought the Sergeant might just disappear, when it was obvious he was going nowhere.

  “It’s my only tank-top, please don’t hurt my tank top.”

  “Shut-up you wimp or I’ll have to give you something to cry about. Shit, my mother always used to say that, and it worked. Anyway shut up or I will give you the licking of your life.” Gillian started to giggle.

  “A licking? You’re going to give me a licking?”

  “You bet, now help me get this damn thing over your head.” Gillian hopped around trying to get the tank top over the Sergeant’s head, until finally it gave and rode up his thick arms to his hands. Gillian stopped for a moment to check out the Sergeant. “Holy shit! Look at you. What do you eat for breakfast? Stray dogs? Little Children? Dwarfs? God you are massive. You are a massive guy. You must be ashamed of your mass. I am going to make you pay for that too.”

  “Please, please give me a licking, give me a good, good hard licking. Pinch me too. Pinch my nipples. I beg of you. I can’t bear to have you not touch me.”

  Gillian could hear the truth of his desire in his voice. “You have to pay the price for being so big.”

  “Forgive me ma’am, forgive me for being so massive. I can’t help it. I can’t help benching three hundred and fifty pounds, on a good day mind you, I can’t help it, it makes my chest feel good and big. And my three hundred pound squats protect me from bad people like you. Slap my chest if you have to. Slap my ass. And undo the cuffs and let me taste your nipples too.”

  “You’re asking for it. I’m going to have to pull down your boxers you know. And I’m warning you that you are going to feel very vulnerable with your boxers down, and your wrists and ankles chained to the bars, because I might really have to try to set you straight you know. I might have to really punish you bi
g time. And no way you’re touching my nipples.”

  “Punish me? Gosh, what would you do?”

  “I’ll tell you. First I would pull down your shorts, like this.” Gillian caught her breath and could not act out anything much for a few seconds at the sight of the Sergeants perfect and huge muscular butt and thick thighs. “Holy Jesus, would you look at that butt. Fuck, is all I can say. Wow. I’ll need a minute with this before I spank you silly.”

  The Sergeant stood with his back to Gillian looking vulnerable with hands above his head and bare feet attached to the bars, pants around his ankles and shirts around his wrists. Gillian took a moment to rub her hands together, making sure they were warm, and then gently and softly tracing her fingers over the Sergeant’s firm and hairy butt. “Oh God this is––wow!”

  “Please don’t spank me. Spankings are so painful especially when you use my belt to spank me.”

  “Gee thanks.” Gillian reached down and pulled the Sergeant’s belt out of the belt loops. “I might have to tickle your feet while I am down here you know.

  “Oh God, please no. I couldn’t bear it. I really couldn’t.” But the Sergeant presented the sole of one foot and then the other, the knuckles of his toes bent into the floor. Gillian took his massive feet and started tickling the soles, which, she realized, really was his weakness. The Sergeant grabbed the bars hard and growled low and deep to suppress the urge to scream at the top of his lungs, and laugh and wail. Gillian felt his body respond as she brought the Sergeant until her control. She put the belt into her mouth and then quickly unbuttoned her blouse, and tore it off. She got close to the Sergeant’s big legs to tickle his feet and to feel his massive body jerk and struggle under her command. He was as solid as a tree trunk and as vulnerable as a flower. “I’m just getting started Sarge. Don’t think this is a joke.” She continued to run her fingers the length of his feet slowly and lightly, forcing him to truly writhe in pain and pleasure. She ventured to look up from the floor to the Sergeant’s face but something massive blocked her view. She was taken by a semi-erect uncircumcised penis, that would put a pork tenderloin to shame. “Where the fuck were you hiding that?” she exclaimed. “Now you are in big trouble!”

  Gillian took the belt in hand and stood behind the Sergeant and slowly and steadily started to tap the belt against his ass, until she noticed that he was sticking his as out for her to smack, and she understood it to mean that she should smack harder and harder. Slowly the sounds cracked on his ass, and he finally let out a deep roar.

  “Was that to stop or go?” She asked.

  “Oh fuck, what a release. You don’t know how long I have waited for someone like you. Keep going, harder, fuck, harder, harder.”

  Gillian responded by standing farther away to let the belt get a healthy swing before meeting its corresponding target. “How’s that, you, you, you, fucking Sergeant!? Take that, and take it good!”

  “Oh fuck.” Though the Sergeant’s knees went weak, Gillian didn’t let up. She was amazed at how his bum would tighten and then relax, with each strapping. And slowly as it started to redden, she wanted to stop but he cried, “more, more. I’ve been bad. I’ve been so very, very bad.”

  Finally Gillian put down the belt and slapped his ass hard with her hand, which turned out to be a bad idea as it stung her palm and the Sergeant let out a surprising whoop. “There you go, you bastard, that’s what you get for not telling me about the anaconda between your legs.”

  “Christ that stung!” And Gillian could tell he wasn’t lying, from the red handprint on the Sergeant’s ass.

  “Well let me tell you: there’s more where that came from. You want torture? You’re going to get it, now get nice and close to those bars and don’t say a word!” Gillian took the belt, ran it around the Sergeant’s waist and attached it to the bars, leaving his hips pressed tightly against the bars and his cock shoved between them. She slipped her boots back on, giving herself substantial height and the leather look of a dominatrix. She was half dressed, her camisole loose now. She went through the entryway and came around the front of the Sergeant––the bars separating them from each other. “Get close I said, and keep that cock and those bull balls between the bars no question!” The Sergeant’s cock was still semi-flaccid, curving towards the floor, the head half shielded by the foreskin and gently growing and showing. “Eyes up! I want you to watch every single thing I do and if you so much as get the tiniest bit aroused I will––well I don’t know what I’ll do, but you can be sure it will hurt.”

  Gillian stood in front of the Sergeant and started to play with the spaghetti straps of her lace camisole. She tugged at one, and then the other, sliding them over her shoulders to fall lightly. She gyrated, letting her hips lead the way. She lifted the rim of her camisole exposing her tummy and slowly lifted it higher and higher until she was aware the lower curve of her breast was showing. “Down boy,” she said. Warning the Sergeant that she meant it. But his member stirred noticeably. Gillian stopped her show and moved close to the Sergeant and slapped his cock, like it was being a horny, humpy, dog. The Sergeant tried to sound like he was in pain, but found the touch painfully arousing. “I said down!” Gillian barked, and slapped his cock again. She returned to her strip and pulled her camisole over her head. She took it and ran it lightly over the Sergeant’s cock, while he tried to pull away.

  “Don’t you dare!”

  “Sweet Jesus that is about the most stimulating thing I have ever endured. I can’t bear it, I just can’t. Please Miss, you’re not playing fair.”

  “I’ll show you fair. She waved the silken fabric across his cock and up and down, while he writhed and tugged against the belt.

  Then she stepped back and played with her nipples, running the tips of her fingers over the sensitive skin, and feeling the accompanying dizziness of accumulating arousal, all the while eyeing the Sergeant’s huge Silhouette in the dimly lit cell.

  She went to her knees finally, and brought her face close to the Sergeant’s cock. “Please don’t suck my cock,” he cried. “I just couldn’t bear it. Please don’t suck my cock.” But it was too late, and Gillian’s tongue was touching the tip of the head protruding now even more. She licked the tip and tickled the soft skin on the underside of his cock with her fingers.

  “You’re not playing fair,” the Sergeant said.

  “Rules are rules.” She took the end of his large member in her mouth moving the foreskin back and forth over the tightening head. “Oh God I can’t bear it,” the Sergeant said, but it was Gillian who couldn’t bear it, every nerve ending between her thighs and up through to the top of her head was ready to burst. She got to her feet again and pushed her leggings and panties to mid thigh. She took the Sergeant’s cock and rubbed it against her breasts slowly, drinking in every sensation of touch and don’t touch. She turned and rubbed the Sergeant’s cock against the cheeks of her behind and snuggled it in between. “Oooooooooooh fuck!” he cried. “Jesus.” His shaft inflated to a full-fledged erection which he was unable to suppress further.

  Gillian felt the restrained force of his manhood on her soft behind. The thought of having him inside her aroused, terrified and thrilled her all at the same time. But since she had him captive, she had every reason to continue using him as her playmate.

  “Now you are asking for it buddy. Where the hell is that billyclub?”

  “The desk, the desk dammit. Top drawer on the right.”

  Gillian fetched the narrow stick. “This should do the trick!”

  “Be gentle with me, please, please. I’m a tight fit! I just can’t take all this abuse.”

  “I hope you’re telling the truth.” Gillian held the billyclub in front of the Sergeant, waving it this way and that, touching it delicately as if it were the Sergeant’s massive dick, and then stroking it up and down.

  “Please, please, someone might come. And if you shove that up my ass, they’re sure to hear me squeal.”

  Gillian went around behind the Sergeant,
his erection had not let up, and now he started to gyrate his hips to create a feel-good friction with his shaft against the bars. “You’ll need some lube, my friend.” Gillian put the fantasy at bay for a moment for some practicalities.

  “Hand cream. Top drawer. Centre. Hurry, please hurry.”

  Gillian ran back to the desk and retrieved the hand cream. She slathered it on one end of the stick and took hold of the handle at the other end. “Now beg,” she said. “Beg like you don’t want me to fuck you with this until you cry like a baby, you big lug.”

  The thought of putting the billyclub into the Sergeant’s behind was something that took some getting used to for Gillian. She remembered what Randy had said, and figured instinctively, for all the fun and wonderful sensation she would have, to take this one step at a time. She resolved to sound more furious than she could possibly be. She stroked the Sergeant’s ass cheeks with the billyclub taking in the view, the cheeks tensing and relaxing and tensing again. She could tell he was close to the peak of arousal, but wanted to have the experience of pleasuring his ass. She squeezed the cream onto the ends of her fingers and then ran them along the ridge of skin, slowly, from behind his cock, along his sphincter and up his crack. It wasn’t so bad, she thought, remembering she’d had her fingers up the dancers’ asses and managed to put a smile on their faces. Remembering Randy’s instructions she slid a finger up his crack and then applied pressure. In it went. “I thought you said you’re tight.” Gillian scolded. “If you lied to me I am going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to see straight.”

  “Please, please don’t.”

  “Here goes you mother fucker.”

  The Sergeant cocked his ass as much as he could into the air to receive the billyclub. Gillian grinned at this he-man’s eagerness to be pleasured in such a way. “I see you’ve done this before.”

  “No. No. Never before,” the Sergeant cried.

  “Liar!” Gillian took the billyclub and gently pressed the end, spiraling the club as she pressed more and more firmly.

  “Ooooooooh God! That is good, I mean oh so painful. No. No. Don’t hurt me please. Ooooooh fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Yes.”