Made For Sex

by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

  Sensing her agreement, the leader pressed his slick covered cock against her anus. As her body tensed and relaxed, he pushed, slowly forcing his hard penis into her rear passage.

  “Oh, sire,” she whispered. “That’s so strange.”

  “It is good?”

  She hesitated. “Yes, sire.”

  When he was as deeply inside as he could get, the leader took his index finger and rubbed her clit.

  Blazing heat slashed through her body and orgasm took control again, her rear muscles clenching rhythmically on the leader’s penis. “Yes! Yes!” Her orgasm went on and on, until she had no more to give.

  “Ahhh,” the leader said, pushing against her as she came. “Wonderful.” He pulled his still-hard cock from her body, peeled off one condom, had his men turn her, and then he plunged his sheathed cock into her pussy, slamming it into her until he suddenly screamed, and spasmed inside her.

  Later, when they had all cleaned up and were ready to leave, the leader kissed Carla deeply. “You were a marvelous addition to the evening’s entertainment, darling. We’ll be sure to let you know when we meet again. Please feel free to join us, whether Dennis can attend or not.”

  “Thank you, sire,” she said, wrapping her dark blue cape around her naked body.

  Dennis held her around the waist. “If she can be here, sire, you can be sure I’ll bring her.”

  Carla smiled as she stepped into the limo.

  Chapter

  8

  Ronnie and Carla were in the sunny kitchen of the brownstone finishing the last of a pint of chocolate-mint frozen yogurt. Falling snow created miniature drifts on the railing outside the living room window.

  “Is something bothering you?” Carla asked.

  “Jack’s home.”

  “That’s great,” Carla said. Ronnie’s husband had been overseas for the last month. “Isn’t it?”

  “Oh it’s wonderful to see him, if only briefly.” Ronnie put her dish on the coffee table and was silent.

  “Come on, give,” Carla said. “Trouble?”

  Ronnie took a deep breath. “No, not really. Not anything I can put my finger on. It’s just that, after what you and I do here, sex with Jack seems so ordinary.”

  “Ordinary?”

  “You know. We fuck quickly and hungrily, and then he talks about business: oil, rock formations, three-dimensional computer models, helicopter surveys, whatever. We never talk about us, really. Our lives.”

  “That’s part of the problem of being apart so much. You have so little day-to-day contact that you live in different places. Mentally, I mean. When my folks lived in Florida briefly a few years ago, my mother used to insist that I call at least once a week. She said that when you talk frequently all the everyday stuff is important, but when you only talk occasionally, it’s hard to find anything worth mentioning.”

  “That’s true, I guess. It’s also the sex.”

  “No rushing across airports and fucking in the backseat of the car?”

  Ronnie’s laugh was warm and rich. “Lots of that. We’re good together but it’s just ordinary, somehow.”

  “That figures.”

  “Huh?”

  “Of course sex with Jack is ordinary, unless you work hard at it. Everything we do here is exciting, first times with new people, new fantasies, toys, games, whatever. But it’s just the same old Jack. Nothing new.”

  “I guess.”

  “Have you ever played fantasy games with him?”

  Ronnie thought. “Not recently.”

  “Well, take your own advice. Do what we always suggest that our clients do. Let your mind wander. You’re one of the most skilled women I know at reading other men and their sexual desires. Read yours and his, for a change.”

  “You know, you make a lot of sense.”

  “Of course I do. I’ve learned from an expert. Do the two of you have time tonight?”

  “Unfortunately, no. Not for a month or so. He’s gone again.”

  Ronnie looked so forlorn that Carla quickly changed the subject. “You know, I’ve had quite an education over the last three months so now I think it’s time for you to tell me about that wild cruise you went on last summer.”

  Ronnie licked the last of the yogurt from her spoon and dropped it into her bowl. “Yes, I suppose it is. Okay. You make coffee and I’ll tell all.”

  They wandered into the kitchen and Carla got the coffee from the fridge. While she set up the filter, Ronnie started her tale.

  “It all began almost four years ago with Bob Skinner. He looked through my album and when he found the picture of me in that stern teacher outfit, he reacted immediately. We came back here and I disciplined naughty little Bobby who couldn’t get his lessons right.

  “A few weeks later, he selected the photo of me in that leather outfit holding the whip, and said, ‘Would you be her for me, ma’am?’ In that scenario, he calls me Mistress Ronnie. We’ve played both those fantasies frequently and he really gets off by being slapped around and made to do things.”

  “And that’s what you did on the cruise?” Carla said, pouring water into the coffeemaker. “Be Mistress Ronnie and whip him?”

  “We discovered very early that it’s not the pain that turns him on, although Bobby loves it when Miss Gilbert hits him with a ruler. Mostly he loves to feel powerless, to know that he must submit to all of my demands without question. He’s hard all the time until I let him come. Some women don’t let their subserviants come at all, but I make sure that Bobby climaxes every time we’re together. Eventually.”

  “I’m so curious,” Carla said, settling at the country kitchen table across from Ronnie, the room filling with the smell of brewing coffee. “Tell me about the cruise. How do they set it up? Aren’t there other people on the boat?”

  “Two couples started this group,” Ronnie explained, “and they set up each cruise. We use the same ship, the Atlantic Voyager each year. It’s small and they set aside a special area for just us, off-limits to the rest of the passengers: a private dining room, secluded deck space, and so on. And our cabins are in a roped-off area. The crew knows what we do and only those who’ve agreed to ignore what goes on work in our section.” She sighed. “That caused an unusual situation this time, but I’ll get to that later.”

  “How many people go on this cruise?”

  “There are usually about thirty couples, most like Bob and me, a dominant mistress and her servant. A few are men with submissive women. We use common sense and rules, like you and I do with our customers. Everyone gives and gets pleasure and that’s all that matters to any of us.”

  Carla nodded. Since she had gotten into power and control fantasies, first with Bryce and then with Dennis and the sex club, she had a much better understanding of the intense eroticism of dominance and submission.

  “Some of the couples are into heavier activities than Mistress Ronnie and Bob. Some get into heavy pain and whips, shoe licking, and other things that Bob doesn’t enjoy. But each of us knows our partner’s tastes and we cater to them, and to ourselves. And we always use safe words.”

  “Are there many…professionals like us there?”

  “Some are part-time relationships like Bob and mine, and some are married couples or partners who live together and are into dominant fantasies either full-or part-time. But both partners enjoy their roles and love the chance to submerge themselves in eroticism for a week.”

  “Okay,” Carla said, pouring the steaming coffee into mugs. “Tell me everything.”

  “When we first arrived, Bob unpacked and put away our clothes while I wandered around our area of the ship. I ran into several women I remembered from the previous year and we sat on deck and discussed a few special activities we had planned. I have to tell you that talking about the upcoming week got me going. I couldn’t wait to return to the cabin. When I arrived at our stateroom Bob was prepared.”

  “Everything’s ready, Mistress,” Bobby said as Ronnie walked back into the spotless cabi
n. He had arranged the closets carefully and Ronnie’s clothes were all hanging or neatly folded. He had put his few outfits in a bottom drawer. He had set out two lightweight paddles on the small table. Several brown-paper-wrapped packages sat on the dresser where he had been instructed to put them. He had no idea what was inside but knowing Ronnie’s creativity, curiosity made his cock hard.

  “Very nice,” she said and Bobby glowed with pride. “Are you ready as well?” Ronnie asked. She was dressed in a soft pink sleeveless blouse and a full deep blue peasant skirt. She wore high-heeled sandals over her bare feet. Her toenails, like her fingernails, were painted deep red.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he said, staring at the floor. Ronnie circled Bobby examining his outfit. He had changed since arriving on shipboard and now wore only a pair of extremely tight black spandex shorts that enclosed his erect cock. He had fastened a leather collar around his neck and he wore a green band around his right bicep signifying his servitude. His feet were bare and he stared at his naked toes.

  Ronnie patted the giant bulge in the front of his shorts. “My goodness. Have you been thinking about the mysterious packages? Have you been wondering what’s inside?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Well, you’ll find out.” She patted his groin again. “And you’ll be glad.”

  “Thank you, Mistress. Is there anything you desire of me?”

  “Yes. I think I’ll let you pleasure me before dinner.”

  “Thank you, Mistress. How would you like me to do that?”

  Ronnie glared at him. “You shouldn’t have to ask. You should know how to please me by now.” She walked to a small chair and sat down. “After you’ve done your job, you’ll have to be punished for your lapse of understanding.”

  Bobby knew that there was no way that he could have guessed how to please Mistress Ronnie at that particular moment, but the punishment was part of the excitement. And anticipating the punishment was another. But now he would give his mistress pleasure and there was nothing better than that.

  “Down,” she said and Bobby got down on his hands and knees and crawled toward her. “I need my feet massaged.”

  Carefully Bobby removed each of Ronnie’s shoes and placed them under the table in the corner of the room. Then he sat at his mistress’s feet and pressed his fingers deeply into her arch, which he knew she loved. He massaged each foot and calf, then paid careful attention to each toe until his fingers ached. Slowly Ronnie relaxed. “Mistress, may I go further?” he asked, knowing better than to look her in the eye.

  “I think so,” she answered, excited by Bobby’s submissive behavior. “But first, take off my panties.” When he reached for her undies, she added, “With your teeth.”

  He looked startled, but quickly addressed himself to the task. “Yes, Mistress,” Bobby said. He rolled Ronnie’s skirt up around her waist and, as he grasped the elastic of her bikini panties with his teeth, he could smell her musky aroma. She wanted him and that made him happy. He jerked at the elastic.

  “Ouch!” Ronnie said, slapping him sternly on the shoulder. “Be gentle!”

  “I’m sorry, Mistress.” He pulled at the waistband gently, shifted to the other side, and pulled again. Ronnie moved her rear so he could slowly maneuver her panties over her hips, down past her knees, and off. Bobby picked up the wisp of dark blue silk with his teeth and placed it neatly on the bed. He gazed at Ronnie’s cunt, newly shaved and now exposed for his viewing. There was something demanding about a shaved pussy and it excited Bobby so much that his cock became even more uncomfortable inside the tight shorts. But, of course, he knew that that was not Mistress Ronnie’s concern.

  Bobby massaged Ronnie’s calves and thighs, reveling in both her relaxation and her building sexual excitement. “Mistress may I?” he asked, flexing his cramped fingers.

  Ronnie shifted her hips to the edge of the chair and nodded. Bobby stroked the inside of each thigh, approaching but not touching her bare pussy. He brushed his mistress’s outer lips with the tip of his finger, then with the tip of his tongue. “Please, Mistress.”

  “Please what?”

  “Mistress, may I lick your clit?”

  “All right,” she purred.

  Bobby knew how to please his mistress. He licked and sucked like a man possessed, his tongue and fingertips everywhere at once. He slid two fingers deep into her pussy and sawed them in and out. When he added a third finger and simultaneously sucked her clit, her muscles spasmed almost immediately. “That’s so good,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”

  He smiled. She knew he wouldn’t stop until he had given her all the pleasure it was possible to give. He licked and stroked, adjusting his movements to her excitement level. Leaving his fingers quietly inside Ronnie’s body, Bobby soothed her until she was calm, and then pulled his hands away.

  “May I get you a glass of water?” he asked.

  When she nodded, he opened a bottle of spring water he had placed in a bucket and poured her a glass.

  “That was very good,” Ronnie said, taking a long drink and patting Bobby on the head like a pet. “But there’s still the matter of your punishment.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Since your tongue was so talented, you may pick the instrument you prefer.”

  “Thank you, Mistress,” Bobby said, picking up a Ping-Pong paddle and handing it to Ronnie. “My pants, Mistress?”

  “You may leave them on,” Ronnie said.

  Without another word, Bobby lay across his mistress’s lap, his spandex-covered bottom ready for Ronnie’s skillful application of the paddle. “Since I’m in a very good mood,” she said, “I think ten will suffice for the moment.”

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  The first three were light slaps and, with the covering of the tightly stretched shorts, Bobby felt only a general tingle. The next three were heavier, making his body jerk slightly with each one. Swats number seven and eight were harder still, stinging his ass and forcing his hard cock against Ronnie’s thighs. Ronnie pulled the spandex down and administered the final two swats with all her strength on his bare cheeks. She pulled the stretchy fabric back up and patted his inflamed bottom.

  “Mistress, please,” Bobby said, his body quivering.

  “Please what?”

  “Please, I want to come. I’m so excited.”

  “Are you my good boy?” Ronnie asked, moving so her thighs rubbed his swollen member.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “What if I say no?” She usually denied him any release for several hours. The women liked their slaves to be constantly erect, anxious to please in order to be allowed to climax.

  “Oh sweet Jesus,” Bobby said, sweat forming on his forehead.

  Ronnie reached underneath him and squeezed him tightly. “Is that better?”

  “Yes, Mistress,” he said, although both of them knew it was not.

  “You may come,” Ronnie told him.

  “My shorts?”

  “Too bad. After you spurt they’ll be all sticky inside.” She smiled. “Of course, for the rest of the day, as you move, you’ll be reminded of my generosity.”

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  “Touch it yourself.”

  Standing in front of Ronnie’s chair, Bobby rubbed the length of his rock-hard cock through the tight elastic fabric. When she sensed that he was almost ready to climax, Ronnie picked up the paddle and swatted his ass. He came, screaming.

  For the rest of the afternoon, Bobby followed Ronnie around, sitting at her feet as she lounged with other women, fetching drinks and snacks for her and her friends, and watching the way the other women treated their slaves. He was so lucky, he realized, that Mistress Ronnie knew exactly what he liked.

  That evening, at dinner, he cut Ronnie’s meat and fed her, waiting until she was finished with her meal before he ate anything. The cruise ship staff discretely ignored the goings on, although one busboy stared longingly at Ronnie.

  After dinner, three of
the women and their slaves put on a show. The men danced, slowly stripping, then one of the men was whipped by the other two under the direction of the women.

  Bobby took part in a contest to see which of four naked men could hold out the longest against the sexual teasing of a woman who looked like an in-the-flesh Barbie Doll, with huge breasts and a tiny waist. The woman whose slave lost the contest and spurted semen all over the stage dragged the hapless man back to their cabin for what would undoubtedly be a long lesson in self-control. Ronnie praised Bobby for his ability to restrain himself and, as a reward, let him fuck her with a large dildo.

  The following morning, Bobby unwrapped the packages Ronnie had brought. Inside one he found a flanged anal plug and in another a harness to both control his cock and keep the dildo in place. Ronnie lubricated the plug and filled his ass with it. Using the many buckles, she fitted the harness so that it held his balls away from his body, showed off his erect cock and held the dildo deep inside his ass. For the entire afternoon, he wore nothing else so that everyone in their part of the ship could examine his body and discuss his excitement level.

  About four days into the cruise, Bobby was feeding Ronnie lunch when she noticed the busboy staring intently at her. He was in his late teens and of medium height with shoulder-length sun-bleached blond hair held with a rubber band at the nape of his neck and pale blue eyes that seldom left her hands. As she thought about it, Ronnie realized that he had been watching her since the week began. As he stared, she quite deliberately poured the contents of her water glass into an empty cup beside her and when Bobby tried to refill it, she waved him away.

  “Young man,” she said, pointing at the busboy, “I need more water.” The other two couples at the table stared at her, obviously curious as to what was going on.

  “Certainly,” the busboy said, fetching the pitcher. When Bobby looked crestfallen, Ronnie said, “I know you like serving me but don’t worry. You’ll be rewarded later.” She pointed to an area on the floor beside her chair and Bobby sat down.