Letters to Penthouse III

by Letters to Penthouse III- Hot, Bothered

  I was shocked, but I knew better than to protest. “Yes, mistress,” I managed to utter.

  Grabbing my cock, she led me to the other room, nearly yanking me by my swollen handle.

  I whimpered, “It hurts, mistress,” in a voice I hardly recognized as my own.

  “You don't know what pain is. What you feel now is just a little discomfort.” She led me to the far wall that housed an ominous wooden frame and unhooked my hands, only to refasten them to the rack. She tied them above my head, then reached behind me to hook a finger in the top of my briefs, slipping them down off my ass.

  “Now,” she said, stepping back, “I want you to wiggle out of your panties.”

  I attempted to twitch my hips and thighs in order to get the tight nylon to slide down. The motion caused my protruding genitals to bounce and jerk obscenely in front of me while the mistress, amused at my humiliating predicament, stood by watching me.

  “Keep wiggling. Get those panties off.” She was laughing now. I finally managed to get the nylon garment to slide down my legs. “There. Wasn't that fun?”

  “Yes, mistress,” I said.

  She pulled a thick belt around my waist and attached it to the frame.

  “Suck your stomach in,” she demanded as she pulled it tight, securing my torso to the wall. She spread my legs and fastened them to the rings on the frame.

  I felt like a toy as she pulled a stool in front of me and sat down. I was naked, vulnerable, completely immobilized, and exposed to this aggressive woman. She settled herself in her seat, level with my swollen balls that protruded from their leather bindings. She stroked the smooth skin under the head of my erect shaft until I squirmed.

  “Do you like that?”

  “Yes, mistress,” I gasped.

  “Well, you can like it all you want, but don't you come until I give you permission. Understood?”

  She stroked my shining cockhead faster and harder. I felt myself straining against my bonds.

  “Okay, you can come,” she said while she continued her rubbing. My body moved rhythmically despite my tight bonds. She stopped abruptly.

  “I changed my mind,” she cooed.

  I sighed, and she laughed as she started her stroking all over again.

  “I'm afraid I'm going to come,” I whimpered.

  “You should be,” came her calm reply as she stroked my aching member. “If you come before I give my permission, I'm going to paddle your ass.” Her strokes were brisk and on the mark. My balls ached.

  “Ohhh, I'm afraid I'm going to have to come, mistress.” I was begging.

  “You should be,” she replied once more, the threat of the paddle an unspoken promise.

  “Okay, you can come,” she relented. I felt my relief building when she again released my cock. Then she said in a mocking, singsong voice, “No, I changed my mind.”

  My purplish erection strained against the leather binding and the strap around my waist constricted my breathing, but she tightened the belt even more.

  She resumed her vigorous assault on the bulbous head of my cock, and I was responding physically, fearful of losing control but unable to hold back my building excitement.

  “Okay,” she said again—I was beginning to dread that word—“now you may come.” I felt myself building, but all the time I was waiting for her to stop her hand and deny me the relief it could bring. She continued stroking and, with a twitch of her wrist, released the leather string that bound my cock and balls. With a moan, I shot a series of white streams, ecstatic in my orgasm.

  “I like a man who shoots,” she said nonchalantly as she wiped my come off her leather skirt.

  She released the binds that held me to the wooden frame, and I sighed out loud. She slapped me sharply on the face.

  “Stop that sighing,” she said.

  I had to sit alone in the cold basement for a long time before she returned and allowed me to dress. As I prepared to leave, she commanded me to kneel down and kiss the pointed toe of her black leather boot. She smiled and bid me to rise as she said good-bye. I backed out of the dungeon and up the stairs.—N.E., Battle Creek, Michigan

  LUCKY GUY TIES ONE ON

  One hot night last summer I was bored and decided to visit the local bar for a few cold ones. I'd just finished my second beer when I noticed an attractive woman sitting alone at a back table. She was tall, her long legs enhanced by a short white skirt. Her skin was the color of chocolate, and her perfectly rounded breasts were nearly bursting out of her green silk shirt.

  With my pulse racing, I got up the nerve and walked over to her. She accepted my offer of a drink and introduced herself as Nancy. Soon we were laughing and joking like old friends. After a while she put her hand on my thigh and asked me to see her home.

  Nancy pulled me into her bedroom the minute we got to her apartment, and pushed me onto the king-size, four-poster bed. “I have a surprise for you,” she said with a grin. “Do you like surprises?” I answered that I did, and would be willing to try anything. “Good,” she said.

  The first surprise was a blindfold, which she tied around my eyes. Then she said she wanted to tie me down, and asked if I would enjoy that. I'd always had fantasies of being tied down and fucked, so I told her to do it. My cock, which had been throbbing since we'd started talking at the bar, was hard as a rocket.

  She expertly tied each of my hands to a bedpost, then did the same with my legs. The ropes she used felt soft, like they were made of velvet, and the pressure of the bonds against my flesh made my cock ache. As soon as I was securely tied, Nancy spoke again. “Now,” she said, “the fun begins.”

  She unbuttoned my shirt, bent over, and gently kissed my chest, running her tongue over my hardening nipples. Her breath was hot, her tongue soft and wet. After kissing my chest for a few minutes, Nancy moved lower and unbuttoned my pants. She pressed her hands against my throbbing cock, which was straining to escape the confines of my briefs. With a tug she pulled down my pants, quickly untied my ankles to slip the slacks off my legs, then retied the knots.

  I was left on the bed with my hot cock pushing against my underwear. Suddenly I felt cold metal against my thigh, and then an incredible rush as my underwear fell away—Nancy had cut them loose with a pair of scissors! Now my cock stood up straight and hard. Nancy grabbed it with a hot hand. “Mmmmm,” she said, “your cock is so long and thick,” and with a quick motion gave the head a deep kiss. She dipped her hot tongue into the hole at the tip. I could feel my glans swelling as the come began to boil in my balls.

  “Time to take off the blindfold,” she said, and with a quick move she let go of my cock and undid the knot. I couldn't believe the sight that beheld my eyes! Nancy was standing over the bed, dressed in a white bra that pushed up her breasts, and a garter belt that held up sheer white stockings. The white of the fabric glowed against her black skin, and her neatly trimmed bush glistened with the dew of expectation.

  At the foot of the four-poster bed was another woman. She was white, and dressed in jet-black lingerie. Her long blond hair shimmered in the light. Her lips were painted a deep red. She ran her pink tongue over her lips and smiled at me, a long finger slowly creeping into the cleft between her legs.

  “This is my roommate, Maria,” said Nancy, smiling as she walked over to Maria. “Her boyfriend stood her up tonight, and Maria doesn't sleep very well without a good fuck—do you, Maria?”

  Instead of answering, Maria walked over to Nancy and kissed the back of her neck. Maria's long arms embraced Nancy from behind. Her red nails sought out the tips of Nancy's breasts, which hardened at the touch. “Why don't we show Arthur just how close we really are?” said Maria, her juicy lips lightly touching Nancy's ear. She turned to kiss Maria, and their lips met.

  The two girls made love savagely as I watched, helpless. My hands strained against the bonds, and my cock felt like it was going to explode. Nancy pushed Maria back to the wall, sucking and licking her all over. She drove her tongue deep into Maria's pussy agai
n and again. After she tired of sucking Maria's bush, she turned to me with a smile and said, “Maria gets so wet when she's excited. It tastes so sweet!” And then she pushed her fingers deep into Maria's pussy and moved them around, finally taking them out and bringing them over for me to lick. I sucked them hungrily, letting Maria's sweet pussy juice run down my chin. I needed some relief, and told Nancy I felt like my cock was going to explode if one of them didn't pay it some attention soon.

  “Don't worry,” replied Maria, “we'll take care of your cock. But first you'll take care of our cunts.” She walked over to the bed and climbed onto my face. I had no choice but to relax and endure their form of torture. Then again, it wasn't really torture eating Maria's pussy, which was dripping with love honey. Her bush was wet with excitement, and I quickly slid my tongue into her pink hole, licking her clitoris as she ground her hips in slow circles against my mouth.

  I could see Nancy too. Her left hand was rubbing her friend's breast while her right hand massaged her own clitoris. Within a few seconds my tongue had brought Maria to orgasm. With a shriek of joy she squeezed her thighs around the sides of my head and flooded my eager mouth with hot juice.

  When Maria recovered she climbed off the bed, and Nancy leaned over and licked what was left of Maria's juice off my face. “You'll get to taste more of that later, and some of mine too,” she said with a smile. “But first we have to take care of that lovely cock!”

  The two of them began to kiss my legs, starting below the knees. Nancy was on the left and Maria on the right, and their hot little mouths left tracks of red lipstick as they worked their way up to my groin. I writhed with pleasure, still tied securely to the bedposts, as the two of them gently sucked my balls and took turns poking a finger up my ass. Finally Nancy took my whole cock into her mouth. While Maria finger-fucked my ass, Nancy sucked me until I released a huge load of hot sperm down her throat.

  I was so hot my cock remained rigid after my orgasm, which was just what Maria wanted. With a quick motion she clambered onto the bed and quickly slid my cock into her dripping pussy. “Fuck me!” she shouted. “Drive that cock straight into my pussy, baby!” She moved like a wild woman, thrashing and grinding her hips, pumping up and down on me like a piston. Nancy put one finger into Maria's cunt and one into her ass, and together the two of us brought Maria to yet another screaming orgasm.

  Now it was. Nancy's turn. First she cleaned Maria's juice off my cock. Then she pushed my hard pole into her own bright pink cunt. Seeing my cock disappear into that black beauty, her tight little cunt framed by white lingerie, just about drove me wild. With my hands and legs thrashing and pulling at the ropes that held me down, the two of us fucked like savages. Maria watched and fingered her own pussy as we screwed, occasionally rubbing my lips with her juice, or licking Nancy's ass. After an hour of fucking, the two of us exploded together, shouting with unabashed ecstasy.

  We had sex that night in an incredible variety of combinations, with all three of us taking turns being tied up.—A.E., Staten Island, New York

  DALE'S EDUCATION

  It is my considered opinion that men are, for the most part, immature and lazy. I reached this opinion nearly three years ago, and I must admit my marriage has really improved since then. After all, one treats a lazy, immature person differently from a responsible adult.

  I require Dale to come home directly from work each day. Once he's home he's at my beck and call at all times. And to make sure nothing distracts him from his chores, he's not permitted to drink, watch sports, read the paper, or engage in any sort of extracurricular activity. Though I may sound austere and unreasonable, look at it from my point of view. On a daily basis the beds are made, the dishes are done, the kitchen is polished, the laundry is cleaned and put away, the bathtub is scoured, and the house is vacuumed. Once a week the floors are mopped, the windows are washed, the stove and fridge are cleaned, the groceries are bought, the house is dusted, and the car is washed. When I want sex, all I have to do is snap my fingers and Dale's ready, willing, and able. When we go to parties, Dale stays at my side during the entire time and then, sober as a judge, chauffeurs me home.

  Sometimes Dale feels independent and balks at his daily regime. Fortunately, this is a small problem due to certain steps I've taken. First, I keep Dale penniless and possessionless. All our assets are in my name only and I require him to deposit his full pay to my personal bank account. Some time ago I supervised as he cut his credit cards into little pieces. Dale is quite aware that if I were to lock him out he'd be in a very precarious position. And to ensure my control over Dale I keep him unsatisfied sexually.

  Believe me, when a man wants sex from a woman he does everything to keep her happy.

  Dale travels a fair amount on business, and I found out that he liked to live it up on the road. So for the last two years I've tended my control to ensure he toes the line when we're apart. He must eat all his meals in the hotel coffee shop and bring home all his receipts and a copy of the menu. This reduces his alcoholic intake to nil. To occupy his free time I require him to “write lines.” It takes about an hour to write one hundred lines, so Dale must write me four hundred lines on weekday nights and one thousand lines each weekend day. It's funny, but ever since I introduced line writing, Dale hasn't had to travel as much.

  After a hard day's work, Dale really appreciates the ten minutes of gentle cock-teasing I give him most nights. Since he must endure prolonged periods between orgasms, his cock stiffens and lubricates almost to my touch. As my tongue slides along his lips and my fingers gently work his inner thighs, Dale must work hard to maintain his composure. When I finish the tease Dale is super-hard, soaking wet, and desperate for me to finish what I started. Of course, I never do.

  Dale used to tell me he couldn't sleep after a tease, so in order not to disturb me, he'd go to the couch. Actually this was just an excuse so he could gain some relief by masturbating. I caught him red-handed one night, so now I insist he remain in bed with me, silent and motionless.

  On nights when I'm in the mood, which happens about twice a week, I have Dale don a snug pair of underwear after his teasing. This enables him to lick my cunt with absolute abandon as the underwear protects his cock from an unauthorized eruption. He does me with incredible enthusiasm, using his fingers and tongue. And after I'm satisfied and asleep, the underwear sustains Dale's erection. I always insist he wear them until morning.

  I treat Dale firmly yet fairly, and he responds very well, mainly because I'm consistent. He knows that absolute obedience will earn him one ejaculation every two months. He also knows that all failures to follow the rules bring punishment. Last Tuesday, for instance, he carelessly forgot to clean the kitchen sink. I noticed his oversight and said, “Dale, I want the kitchen floor, stove, and fridge absolutely spotless by morning. You may start work after I've gone to sleep. And your oversight will cost you another week of celibacy.”

  Should you decide to exert control over your man, you'll find his biggest beef isn't the housework but the loss of freedom and independence. It's a total role reversal that's difficult for him to get used to. He'll detest having to ask you for money, to divulge how he's going to spend it and to control himself when you say no. He'll also find it tough to be kept in a constant state of sexual arousal with no say as to when, how, and where you want to be pleasured. Whatever you do, don't ease his plight, even slightly. You'll find that, after a year or so of having to keep his emotions in check, he'll become more laid-back.

  I've told several girlfriends about my method, and they're all very pleased with the results. Since it works for them I'm sure it'll work for you too.—K.P., Tucson, Arizona

  Fetishism

  LOVER OF POLISHED TOENAILS

  After seeing the freedom with which your readers write, I have decided to contribute this.

  I have had a secret fetish ever since my last girlfriend, who wore colored polish on her toenails. I have enjoyed fantasizing about her colored toenails while I mastur
bate. My current girlfriend has nice-looking feet and beautiful toes.

  Recently I picked up some red nail polish and brought it with me to her apartment. I asked her to paint her toenails with it— not yet explaining my reasons. That night, after satisfying her with a good session of finger-fucking and sucking her hot and juicy love nest, I asked her if, instead of the usual fuck, she would masturbate me with her feet. She was reluctant at first, but after I explained to her that polished toenails really turn me on, she obliged.

  First, I lubricated her feet with my saliva by slowly tongue-kissing and nibbling her toes. This gave me a tremendous hard-on. Then she lubricated my cock with Vaseline. She slowly started to slide her big toes up and down my shaft. Soon she wrapped all her toes around my throbbing rod. This seemed to turn her on tremendously, because she started masturbating herself violently. The sight of four of her fingers sliding in and out of her wet pussy, and her other hand massaging her clit, made me come on the spot. The sight of my semen shooting on her polished toenails was incredible! Then, as I massaged it on and around her toes, she had a surging, jerking orgasm herself. We both dropped to the bed, thoroughly exhausted.—P.K., New York, New York

  JELLY ROLL WITH PEANUT BUTTER

  I have often read Forum and the stimulating experiences presented within, but it was not until recently that I had a sensational experience of my own worth relating.

  I had gone to a neighborhood bar on a Friday night to have a few beers and to score if I could. The bar was exceptionally crowded, the crowd mainly males seeking the same things I was—namely, a piece of ass and the loss of our senses. After a while I became tired of the bar and the lack of prospects, so I left to smoke a joint.

  As I sat in my car and smoked, I heard a knock on my window. I turned to find myself face-to-face with a beautiful blonde. Needless to say, I rolled down my window and said hi.