Lena's Fall: Volumes Eight through Fifteen of Lena’s Journey

by Alex Carlsbad

  My.

  God!

  I am straddling his face!

  I cannot believe it!

  But I have precious little time to dwell on it as waves upon waves of violent cramps shoot through my belly.

  “Aiiiee, ouch!” I moan, “What did you put in me?”

  “Shhh, little one… Don’t talk… Don’t even think, just feel,” he says and I sense his hands reach up and gently start rubbing delectable circles around my throbbing nipples as his mouth sucks in wet slurping gulps at the apex of my pussy as if drinking on me.

  The cramps in my belly only intensify, but now they begin to mingle with the roiling shivers that make me shake at every twitch of my master's tongue as it quivers against my throbbing nubbin. He feasts on the center of my body while his hands caress and milk my breasts. My brain turns to pulp and coherent thought is gradually replaced by wave upon wave of pure electricity that seem to jolt straight out off my master's lips and into my pulsing clit.

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, my climax drops down on me like a ton of rocks burying me beneath its weight!

  And I scream for all that I'm worth!

  But my master does not stop. He doesn't even slow down! Instead, he works his beautiful, long, thick tongue laving my nether lips end-to-end, bathing them in his saliva, as his fingers play my nipples like the keys of an expensive piano.

  I don't know how long it is before he finally allows me a moment of respite. My body is so rung out of any vestige of energy that I’m incapable of any coherent action as I gently slide into a barely breathing heap on the floor.

  My master scoops me up and gathers me into his enormous bearish arms. I cuddle into him and take refuge in his strength and the harbor of his chest.

  This is when somewhere in the back of my mind a sound registers. At first I am convinced it is part of some dream my feverish mind has cooked up, but then I realize that it is the sound of a phone ringing somewhere in the house.

  “W-what is, that,” I mumble dazedly.

  “Shh, sweetheart, I'll get it,” my master says and stands. All I can think of is Please come back! Don't leave me here alone, cold and disheveled on the floor like that! Please…

  “It is your mother," I see him handing me a phone receiver.

  “If I take it, will you come snuggle me?” I whisper.

  His smile is so beautiful. “Yes, of course, sweetheart.”

  I bring the cold phone to my ear and relax against the naked body of my man who stretches himself out on the floor by me.

  "Mom…"

  “Honey!”

  “Hi, mom,” I say again. My mind isn't in it really. All I can think of are the tiny sparks of sensation that his body causes as it rubs against my nakedness from behind. I relax into his chest and try to make myself disappear underneath his tree-like arms that envelop me.

  “Honey?!” The voice on the other end sounds more insistent

  “Yes, mom, I'm here.”

  “Are you okay?” She asks. My mother's multiple sclerosis seems to have flared up as I detect her difficulty in pronouncing words clearly is more pronounced. What is definitely unmistakable however is the obvious sense of deep worry and unease that traverses the ether and makes itself effortlessly apparent in her voice.

  “Why do you sound like that, sweetheart?”

  “I’m okay, mom. I am just tired is all.”

  “It is almost 11 PM,” she says. “Why are you at his house?”

  The way she says “his house” sends a cold tendril of anxiety shooting through my belly. Mindlessly I move the phone to my left hand and use my right to reach in, between our sweaty bodies where I find the solid calming presence of my master's throbbing manhood. I feel a sense of safety and love envelop me as I gently wrap my fingers around the base of his cock and then cup his heavy testicles.

  “Mom! I already told you I am with him,” I hate the impatience I hear in my own voice. I love my mother but she can be so intrusive sometimes! “We love each other.” There, I said it.

  “Oh honey!…” Long seconds of silence build up. “I, just… I was hoping you had moved on, he is too old for you, sweetie… You two, just don’t belong. He is…” I can sense her searching for the right words. “He is just too different.”

  I don't know what to say and so I just remain silent. I hear some strange hiccuping sounds on the other end of the line and then I realize that my mother is crying. I feel my hand gently move around to grasp the base of my master's cock. I begin to gently pump up and down, up and down, up and down again.

  Finally, it seems my ailing mother reigns in her emotions. “Okay honey… Perhaps you know best… However, if you love me, then there is one thing I want you to do for me.”

  Oh no, this will not be good…

  “Yes, mom.”

  “Later next week, a boy, a young man,” she corrects herself,” the son of a good old friend of mine, will call you there. He is a good boy, your age. I told his father that you are going through a difficult time in your life. That I’m sick and you are all alone… His father knows me from way back. I want you to do this one little thing for me…”

  Oh my God what has she done?

  “Yes, mom, what is it you want me to do?”

  “Just humor me and accept this man’s invitation to dinner just once. For me. Please.”

  “Mom!”

  “Please… For me…” I have never heard my mother sound so desperate. Maybe once, that one time when I was little and she had just returned from a trip to New York City…

  “Okay, mom. I will go out on some blind date with some kid you have set me up with. But please believe me — there is really no reason for you to worry about me. You know Doctor Branigan. He is a world-famous physician for crying out loud! And a good man too, Mom! Trust me!” But the phone has gone dead.

  “She hung up,” I say dumbfounded.

  “She thinks I am too old for you.” My master says and I detect a bemused tone to his otherwise husky voice. “Do you think I am too old for you too?”

  I bristle at his question and turn to face him.

  “No! I know you are not too old for me!” My hand is still holding him down there and I feel his cock twitch in my grasp. “You, you heard her?”

  “Yeah, I heard a little bit. Some boy, some blind date.” His voice is nonchalant but I feel awful right now. I look sheepishly back up at my master as a kneel by his side there on the floor and struggle to think of what to say.

  “Shh, little one, it is okay. I love you, and I know you love me, this is all that matters. Now let us have dinner. It has been a long day. I will cook.”

  Dinner as out of this world! I had no idea he can cook like that! Since I joined his household and became his live-in submissive, it is always I who make dinner. But this — this is something else entirely. I remember once when we went out to eat at a classy restaurant for my birthday when I was little and my mother could still afford celebratory dinners. She said that the food tasted like a symphony. This is the word that comes closest to describing the meal he has made for us tonight.

  I can see him looking at me as he goes about setting the food on the table. I can see his eyes twinkle.

  “Uhm, master, I – when did you have time to make all this?” I finally blurt out in a shocked voice.

  “Earlier today while you were sleeping,” he smiles as he turns down the heat on the stove and picks up the sizzling, almost transparent morsels of meat on the skillet there. “I was worried sick about you and so I cooked,” he laughs. “I find that sometimes cooking a hearty meal relaxes me. I placed a baby monitor by your side and lost myself making some food.”

  I stifle a giggle, "Food! This food doesn't belong here! It belongs in a five-star restaurant. I shouldn't be eating this! It is wasted on my uneducated palate,” I say shaking my head in disbelief.

  “This is exactly why you are the only person in the world I want to share this meal with,” he says in a soft voice still looking down at the sizzling me
at in his frying pan.

  I stare at his back for a long while in disbelief. And then he turns.

  “Oh my God, sweetheart! You are crying!” he says. He drops the pan on the kitchen stove and runs over to me. He hugs me tightly kneeling by my chair and kisses away the tears pouring down my face.

  “This is the sweetest thing that ever happened to me,” I say.

  “Shhhh, baby you know it is true,” he says and then I see that twinkle in his eyes again, "But I don't know about the sweetest thing… You have to wait and see the dessert before you make any conclusions,” he chuckles and I laugh and then I cry some more;

  I wish dinner could last forever.

  By the time he takes me back to my room and tucks me into bed I am stuffed! In more ways than one!

  Miraculously, whatever he put in me down there seems to have worked and I no longer feel any pain but merely a slight fullness in my belly. He covers me tightly with a blanket and kisses my forehead, "Good night, sweetheart." He makes to leave but I hold on to his hand.

  “Sweetheart?”

  “I want to kiss your ring,” I smile. “Remember? Your sub needs to kiss her master’s ring every night before bed.”

  For the first time I see a tear of joy materialize in the corner of his eyes as he gives me his hand to kiss. I place a long loud smooch on the big ugly gargoyle wrapped around his finger there and I am happy like never before in my life.

  ***

  Master:

  Slowly, with exquisite deliberation, my beautiful Lena lowers herself down in a squat. She places her hands on the back of her head and interlaces her fingers. It is the first time she's assuming this submissive pose on her own like that. Her body shivers and trembles and I realize she's afraid. Afraid of me? She's apprehensive of the chastisement I am sure to dole out for her transgression. A nervous hiccup takes her by surprise and she loses her balance and falls to the side. She tumbles in an ungraceful little heap of naked misery. A couple of breaths, and she gathers herself back up again and this time kneels up on the floor before gingerly sitting back on her heels. The only points of contact between her and the cold hard floor are her toes and knees.

  She looks up at me checking for my approval and seeing my arched brow immediately remembers to spread herself for me. She shimmies and moves out her knees sideways as far as she can revealing the pink wet center of her pussy that I can clearly see reflected in the pristinely clean polish of the floor. Now she interlaces her fingers and straightens out her elbows bringing them parallel with her shoulders. I wait for the last element of this pose of presenting herself and here it comes — she opens her little mouth and puts out her tongue letting it dangle submissively on her full lips as I see her chest heaving in deep breaths.

  I know the pose is quite uncomfortable indeed. And so I allow her to keep it as best she can while I resume my dictation.

  Forty-three minutes later I am done. I can see her relief wash over her anguished face as I close the laptop and stand.

  Our normal morning routine calls for her to wake me up at six o'clock sharp with a reading from a book of her choice, preferably sensual poetry. Usually this is followed by an enthusiastic warship of my cock. After that, my plan for this morning had been to nurse on her firm titties and then I gently remove the little porcelain intruder from her backside.

  I wonder why she broke her prescribed routine today? From the way she stepped through the door and walked in, from her position on the floor, it seems like the butt plug is still in. Yet, the fact that she's here and not waiting for me in the bedroom indicates that something went wrong during the night and that she feels guilty about it.

  This only leaves one other possibility. I take a deep whiff and I smile. Now I know. I sense it in the gentle musk in the air.

  The healing paste I put in her last night is also a very powerful diuretic. I suspect that the fullness in her backside and the effects of the medicine probably made her wet the bed during the night. I take another gentle sniff and I know I am right. I look at her and marvel at the beautiful twenty-year-old drooling from her outstretched tongue as she kneels on my floor.

  Now she knows, that I know. Her transgression is out in the open. I can see shame and deep humiliation in her eyes.

  Without a word, I walk over to the side of my office and open a cupboard there. I take out the heavy glass jar with black marbles. It is big and I carefully take it over to my desk. I place it squarely within her line of sight.

  “We all make mistakes, sweetheart. To err is the natural human condition. However, the fact that you want to become my submissive means that you strive for perfection. This can only be achieved through punishment.” Her breath catches audibly in her throat and her deep blue eyes are riveted on mine as I speak,

  “From now on, every transgression on your part is going to earn you one black marble." I reach into the jar and take a shiny black stone that I place on the rim of my desk. "At the end of every week, on Friday, we shall count out the black marbles you have amassed and you will atone for each and every one of them." Up until now Lena has been deathly silent but at the first mention of her impending chastisement, she gasps audibly.

  "Oh my God!" Her voice catches and comes out as a hoarse whisper but she somehow manages to maintain her position. She swallows and again opens her mouth and puts her tongue out.

  “I will decide what the punishment for each marble will be, but it shall never be less painful or humiliating than the equivalent of three strikes with a rattan cane across your tits."

  "Oh my God. I'm sorry master please…"

  I turn around and walk over to where she's kneeling. I hold out my hand and gently take her head from the side cradling it against my knee. "Shush, little one. It is okay." I give her a few moments to recover her composure before I ask, "Did you clean it all up?"

  She turns her face, wet with tears, into the palm of my hand and nods. "Yes, master."

  "Did you put the bedsheets in the laundry?"

  "Yes, master."

  “You sleep on a mattress on the floor. Did you pick up the wet mattress and take it out on the terrace to air out and let it dry in the open sun during the day?”

  “Yes, I did master.”

  “Very well, my dear. You did the best you could under the circumstances,” I say gently caressing her forehead and tracing it down along the bridge of her delicate nose with my thumb. Slowly my thumb finds its way to her outstretched tongue where it stops and I gently press down. Immediately Lena closes her lips and takes it into her mouth. I feel the suction build as she starts sucking on my thumb for succor and support.

  She is a fast learner. It was only last night that I first suggested to her that sucking on a thumb can help relieve her anxiety.

  It is still very early in the morning and I'm only wearing my robe. Underneath it I am quite naked. I give Lena a few moments to suck on my thumb. I use my free hand to brush back a stray strand of dark curls that has fallen across her troubled little face. "Kneel up and worship me properly, slave,” I whisper.

  Immediately Lena moves forward and still suckling on my thumb, reaches with both hands to untie the belt of my robe which falls away to reveal my semi-erect cock. Slowly she pulls her lips with a notable pop up off my finger and moves in between my legs. She uses her left hand to gently clasp my quickly hardening member and move it up as she kneels in to nuzzle against its base just above my testicles.

  I love it when she does that and she knows it. At first she merely places her face there and takes in a deep breath. One of these days I will ask her which is her favorite place on my body. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that she feels most at peace when nuzzling in at the base of my cock. She has claimed it as her own private spot, her place, on my body.

  Slowly she readjusts herself so that my cock now languidly rests on her forehead as her lips part and start hungrily lapping at my scrotum. Her right hand leans for support against my left knee as her free hand moves around to gently cup my ass. She l
ovingly kisses and lapps at my scrotum all the while massaging my butt with her left hand before she finally reaches up to take hold of my now fully prone cock and angle it down towards her lips.

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes surrendering myself to the sensations that her hot wet little mouth elicit. I feel her take me in and I gently step forward feeding her more and more of my length. After almost four weeks of training, Lena has come a very long way.

  She still gags once in a while and panics, but this is understandable and I frankly doubt I will ever be able to teach her not to do it given my length and girth. After some initial difficulty, I am fully embedded in her chest and I feel her wet lips and tongue press up against the the wiry hairs of my lower belly. I move my hands which until this moment had been resting on my hips to the back of her head. I hold her tightly against me as I slowly feel the tension in my balls build.

  She knows by now that it will normally take a couple of more deepthroatings like that before I finally spew my morning cum straight into her chest.

  Today however, I feel my pelvis lurch forward and my climax hit earlier than usual as my prostate convulses and I feel my seed gush forward straight into her submissive belly feeding her the first dose of cum for the day. It takes me almost a couple of minutes before I empty all my pent-up semen into her chest which is by now heaving with instinctive desire for oxygen. I see her eyes flutter helplessly and yet her fingers are gentle where she holds onto my knee for support. She trusts me to pull out before I do any permanent damage. I slowly begin to withdraw my now languid cock from the depths of her body.

  “Ughhh, ughh,” Lena heaves and retches and brings up long strings of saliva that she holds onto with the palm of her hand before feeding them back into her mouth. I caress the top of her head gently passing my fingers through her thick black curls there.

  "You are becoming quite the proficient little cock sucker, sweetheart." I say and see her blush deeply at my words.

  "Thank you, master," she says in a horse whisper. It will take her at least a couple of hours before her vocal chords recover from the bruising they just received.