Desire

by Amy Cunningham

  DESIRE

  by

  Amy Cunningham

  Dedicated to my sister of night (M.T.L.)

  Copyright A. Cunningham 2014

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed by a newspaper, magazine or journal.

  All characters and locations appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Are you ready for me

  Peering through the silver haze I can just make out Dominic's silhouette stalking into the Python Pit. I'm a writhing stress-knot as I turn from the stage, slinking back behind the black curtains, relieved the show is over.

  Sienna struts across my path, taut and salacious in nothing more than patent platforms, her blindfold loose around her neck the way the male strippers wear bow-ties.

  If she gets him I will leave. I swear on both my pierced nipples I will walk out and never come back. I have earned this privilege fair and square. The only issue is that none of us has ever been through the leather cushioned door into the sacred sanctum. We don't know what to expect when Dom selects a new sub.

  My hands shake, betraying my desperation when I sashay to my mirror, double checking the hardness of my nipples, giving them a brutal squeeze until they throb erect, my nudity polished to a porcelain sheen and glistening with moisturizer ever so faintly tinged with pearlescent dust, giving my body an ethereal glow.

  “Ladies,” thrums Garth's deep baritone, his gaze fucking me to Tuesday when I turn to join the queue of three damsels selected as possible candidates.

  Sienna is lithe and willowy, all tits and legs, so much taller wearing her stilts. I've kept it simple. I'm thorough. I know Dominic can't resist velvet, so my heels are wine red, matching my lipstick, my blindfold co-ordinated to the shoes, all velvet. He's an enigma, the most elusive boss I've ever had as I've never met him or seen more than a silhouette walking through the shadows while I'm on stage, but his reputation is a lifeline I've clung to through good nights and the bad. We hear the stories, I mostly hear them from Garth, and I hope they're all true.

  I know I've never looked more innocent, keeping my make-up simple rather than tart. I also know we won't be going home tonight. No one walks out of this initiation, we crawl.

  Stepping to Garth after he's escorted Sienna and Lindy through the curious door we never see behind, I stand akimbo when he runs his fingers callously over my pussy, checking I'm smooth. If we aren't we are immediately rejected, without appeal. We get one chance to do this and there is no way I am blowing it. Not if I plan to blow Dominic for the rest of my carnal life.

  His fingers are wet with my salacious excretion when he gives my nipples another tweak for good measure, stopping me when I step forward, bending me over, “Touch your toes.”

  I fold my supple body, holding my ankles, appreciating the head start he's giving me when he rubs my clit and sinks two fingers deep inside me. He plunges hard, forcing the lips to swell with invasive sensitivity, his knuckles biting into soft flesh, replaced briefly with a tongue, licking me wet and then slapping my ass so hard it stings, “Good girl.”

  It's the go ahead and I stand erect again.

  I feel flushed and breathless when the bouncer steps in front of me again, tightening my blindfold over my eyes so hard it hurts my corneas.

  “Can you see anything?” rumbles in my ear.

  “No.”

  His tongue flicks my nipples before a firm hand grips mine, tugging me unsteadily to my fate.

  Chapter 2

  Let me feel your mouth

  It's disorienting not seeing a thing, every touch is magnified, every voice almost too sharp.

  His hands hold my shoulders in firm warmth, the pressure increasing when he says, “Kneel here.”

  Garth supports me, his hold a salve of firm guidance when he prevents a stumble or fall, directing me onto something soft and silky. “Keep still for a second, Lilah.”

  I nod compliance, experiencing vulnerability I didn't expect when his hands leave my skin.

  The distinct rattle of a chain scrapes my nerves, a choker clasped around my throat followed with a gentle tug, “Not too tight?”

  I shake my head.

  “Lilah, can you breathe okay?”

  I nod, “Yes.”

  A rough grip in my hair frightens me a little when the tendrils snag in his hold and his gruff voice whispers softly, “The chain is long, you have plenty of room to maneuver, but if at any time you start to regret this, call for me. Understand?”

  Shit! What does he know that I don't?

  Feeling my way up his forearm I fold my hand over his, “I'll be okay.”

  “Garth leave, you know what you have to do,” orders a cold nasal baritone from my left.

  He gives my head a quick squeeze of reassurance before releasing me, the sound of a door thumping closed in a dull shuck enough to sever my taut nerves.

  “Hello Delilah.”

  I sit, folding my legs so my calves are underneath me, “Hello.”

  “No names will be mentioned within this chamber. Three men will join you shortly. They will be left alone with you for twenty minutes. In that time I expect you to use every sense at your disposal to identify each man without sight or sound. At the end of this preliminary test ten men shall enter this room. You will then identify your master by smell and touch from the line up. If you cannot identify him you will be escorted out. Your interview terminated. Understand?”

  “Yes,” I nod, stress clogging my voice.

  “I remind you that you have signed the non-disclosure agreement. You may not speak of your initiation to anyone, ever. Not even other initiates. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes sir,” I nod, wringing my hands, wishing they hadn't forced us to cut our nails beforehand.

  “Very well. Good luck, I shall return in twenty minutes.”

  Silence pervades for fathomless moments. Anxiety is making me bilious. Twisting one of my brunette locks around my finger, I wait the interminable time before a palm skates callused heat up my leg. It has no compunction whatsoever as the hand rams a finger inside me.

  A chest covered in stubble rubs against my back and my jaw is clasped in an iron grip, twisting my head to the right, unhinging my closed lips and pressing a soft rigid appendage into my mouth.

  Overwhelmed with the stealth attack of too much strength, I try to kneel off my legs, reaching out in the imposed dark to touch the man in front of me, which is hard with the cum leaking on my tongue while the dude harnesses my face without allowing me to shift.

  It all feels too much like guerilla assault for it to be pleasurable. There is no warning, or provocative teasing, it's coordinated rape. Without losing his momentum the penis plunging into my mouth moves with my body when it's lifted, staked from below with an erection so thick I gasp shock in strangled discomfort. The sandpapery chest scrubs my spine when the third contender shoves inside me, the mystery men double tagging me.

  How do I know who the master is? Who is in control?

  The only man I can smell is the one whose scrotum is slapping my chin, his flavor coating my tongue and cheeks while my jaw aches. His hold is brutal and his technique savage.

  Closing my eyes against the eye watering, I'm shunted into deep throating enigma A while enigma B bullets inside my body with the force of a jackhammer, the friction turning me on while burning me up, if only I could breathe I might enjoy it.

&
nbsp; Feeling my way around the body shoving meat down my throat, I feel the scar inside his left forearm, the stubble embroidering a thin line along his jaw, the nodule of the bridge of his nose.

  I collapse, losing my balance when he withdraws as suddenly as he invaded, using his orgasm to apergillum my face in hot slimy jizz.

  Desperate to figure out who the 'master' is, I grope about, feeling for the other bodies, doing my best to touch them, to map their flaws and features while gripped tight in biting fingers as the rodeo rider stiffens, grinding so hard into me from behind in a seizure of ecstasy, his grunt primal. So primal in fact that I wonder if he's human.

  The chain. The master would own the chain!

  Fumbling on the slippery surface I feel for the links, pulling and tracing, like a rope climber hauling herself out of the ocean I follow it, ignoring the third spray of semen smearing my spine in the skunk spray of marking territory.

  I find the hand holding the chain, crawling until I touch his knees with my own, tracing the hands clamped on the chain, almost smiling when he has a scar raised inside his forearm.

  That was sly. And a gift. He's the one I got to smell and explore because he was the one who stifled my scream before it could be uttered; his pacifier rammed in my mouth to mute my shame.

  I've tasted him, and now I don't have to taste the bastards who treated me like a bitch. He didn't cum in me, he came on me. He didn't force me to swallow him. It was the brute who was riding behind me who forced that issue on me.

  The heat of my tears still wets the blindfold and I know twenty minutes is too long. Way too long.

  Holding his knees, bowing my head, I whisper, “Please, I know you are the master, don't make me choose again.”

  Leave me alone with you. Make them leave. Spare me the pain.

  Silence ensues, ratcheting my guilt and regret. The air doesn't move and I'm pining for a hot shower and a hug.

  What the fuck was I thinking? Is Dominic worth this humiliation?

  Godammit, I just wanted the security, I simply wished to know the kind of relationship where no one else can touch me, force me to do anything I don't want to do, a relationship governed with respect and stated boundaries.

  This is a high price to pay for safety.

  My chain is tugged and a hand grips under my elbow, forcing me to my feet. My legs have become shaky, my pussy already sensitive from the savage invasion.

  The hand abandons me and the nasal voice booms across the silence of my mental landscape, jarring me.

  “Delilah, on your left is a line of gentlemen. Select the one you choose as master.”

  Gentlemen? Are you fucking kidding me?

  Inhaling shuddery breaths I shuffle left until I collide with a man. Running my extended hands down his chest I grapple for his arms, finding no scar.

  It's just my luck that I'm forced to examine eight strangers before reaching the one with a scar. Releasing his forearm I glide my hands up an immaculate torso, locating a smattering of hair between the muscles on his chest before finding reassurance in the harsh scrub of his jaw scruff.

  I'm almost smiling with relief when I trace a soft fingertip over the lump in his nose.

  “It's you,” I whisper. Clearing my throat I tell nasal dude, “This one.”

  Chapter 3

  How do you make love

  I need to feel you

  The man with the nasal tone, says, “Gentlemen please file out. “Come Delilah.”

  With that my chain is yanked and I'm staggering forwards, strong arms clamping around me, a hand holding mine and guiding me, propelling me down a corridor where my high heels tap.

  The click of a door opening fills me with doom, his aggressive guidance pushing me until my knees hit something soft and I fall, assuming it's a bed.

  I'm shoved, his voice filling the silence, “On this bed is a man. Ride him.”

  That's the only instruction and my paranoia increases.

  It's a test, a trap. It's to gauge my aptitude and skill.

  Crawling about until I touch a hairy leg, I blindly trace my hands up it, balancing precariously on my knees, discovering splayed legs and a penis.

  Bending, folding my legs underneath me so I'm sitting on my calves, I hold the penis, closing my mouth around the head, swirling my tongue around it, caressing the shaft, rimming the head with my tongue, licking the slit, bobbing with suction, relaxing my throat to take all of him in three fast dunks.

  Licking back down it I swirl his scrotum with my taste-buds, kissing and licking the balls before taking each one in my mouth, running them across my tongue individually, still stroking his shaft.

  Dipping lower I slant my tongue across the ridge behind the heavy sac, flicking the hard cord, skating my tongue as deep into his ass cheeks as I can go, then softly lick back up the cord, separating his balls with delicate pressure, back to the tip where saltiness coats my tongue with precum, his penis now firm and hot.

  Swallowing his erection back into my mouth I slide my lips and tongue down its length, bracing my arms outside his hips to capture all of him, humming softly to fill his cock with sensational stimulation. Happy he's ready for me I sit up, holding it and guiding it to my vaginal lips, planting my knees outside his hips, sliding all the way down his shaft with it burrowing inside me, adoring the pressure of it filling me.

  Flicking my hair back, lifting my chin toward the sky, I squeeze me pussy around the magnificent cock, hovering where tight friction snares the rim of the erection. Bobbing there, I tease and squeeze his sensitive head, using the muscles in my thighs, simultaneously caressing my boobs, flicking the piercings in my nipples, stroking my hands down my body until they connect with his torso, softly running my hands over muscle and skin, sliding my wet pussy back down his penis, giving his erection long tight strokes with my body, up and down for a minute, then going back to using my pussy to tease and squeeze the rim.

  I love this friction, of his head so close to the opening, too wide to pop out, and I apply endless frissons of friction to it, intermittently sliding all of me back into him until his hips buck.

  Sliding up I grab the wet penis, applying strong pressure with my grip around its base, feeling for the engorged vein and that widening channel at the base where the cum funnels and fountains.

  Preventing his ejaculation with pressure, I wait until the veins go back to normal size before unclamping the webbing between my thumb and forefinger, going back to riding him. It increases the high of the orgasm and keeps him hard for longer.

  Resuming my pussy sliding up and down his penis I lean over him, sucking his skin, flicking my tongue across his nipples, kissing all the way to a strong neck, caressing his body with my short nails before leaning all the way back and holding his ankles, letting him see himself sliding in and out of me, reinforcing the friction around his penis, slamming in and out, my wet pussy making sloppy noises, his rigid shaft running gloriously over my g-spot.

  Hooking the rim of his erection's head I fuck it, my vagina hot and raw with the friction, sinking slowly deeper with each dip, squeezing my vaginal walls around him all the way up, then relaxing on the down, increasing the pace until a gruff male baritone growls satisfaction into the room.

  Leaning over and kissing his chest again, I carefully disengage from his penetration, fumbling my way back down the bed until I find his feet.

  Slipping onto the floor, kneeling, I softly suck his big toe into my mouth, running my tongue across the cluster of nerve endings, then slide my tongue down the arch, using my hands to massage his feet while I suck his toes, licking the sensitive skin so few lovers employ.

  Capturing its twin I repeat the adoration, then lick my way up his thighs, my boobs and hair touching his skin all the way up, locating his penis again and sucking it back into my mouth.

  It's excited, ready for my tongue when I press into the slit, humming so his entire shaft vibrates deep into the core.

  “Jesus!” grumbles, him sounding strangled.

&nbs
p; Dipping him deep into my throat I suck him back to life, then face the other way, sliding my pussy back around his erection, and I fuck him the way I love to fuck, hard and ruthless and wild.

  I know he's watching, he's watching my ass cheeks clench, my thighs pump, he's savoring his thick penis slipping in and out of my body, my vaginal lips sucking and tugging around his shaft, he's watching my boobs thrash, and I'm crashing our bodies together because it gives me goosebumps up and down my spine.

  This time his orgasm is a roar, and I clench and unclench around him, squeezing out every drop, and when his hips thrust me up in a savage jolt and he cums again, I am beyond pleased.

  God that felt good. All of it.

  Hard hands grab mine, squeezing them, and I'm yanked, my back connecting with soft linen, and he's between my legs, sliding back in, riding me like a hellhound to Armageddon.

  It feels intimate and nineteen shades of wicked when he presses stubble into my cheek, chaffing it with his movement until it's hot and itchy, his body ramming into mine, over and over, my tits bouncing so hard the skin feels stretched.

  He squashes me when he orgasms again, sagging onto me, my nose touching something hard and unyielding. Probably his collar bone.

  My hair is smoothed off my forehead and a kiss is smeared over my third eye. Then the hardness of his forehead leans against mine and I'm inhaling his gasps, tasting whiskey and lemon.

  Absently I feel his arms, finding the scar, smiling to myself, locking my legs around his ass and hugging him deep inside me, whispering, “You feel so good.”

  The nasal voice interrupts, ordering, “Delilah it's time to clean you up. This way.”

  The warm body divorces mine, my chain is tugged and I fall off the bed, crawling across carpet until my head hits something.

  He hauls me up, and I can't help but hold to his body until I get my balance.