Arousing Daddy's

by Taylor Sparks

  I wanted to fuck her, so I dispensed with playing and checking her out. I cut the tapes to the furniture and flipped her over to kneel on the floor, pressing forcefully on her back to lever her torso over the sofa. Her skirt was merely a black fold over her hips, her jumper had slid down somewhat. I slid her tights and thong down and off and pushed between her legs, aiming my rigid cock at her cunt. Once lodged, I thrust sharply making her head jolt back and started to shag her fast and hard. She gasped and puffed as I grunted with satisfaction, her juices starting to make the action easier, but I would have fucked her dry.

  Thumbing her shitter while keeping pressure on her back, I smeared some of the juices up onto it and then pushed in to her bum hole. Again she jolted and shook her head, but the bigger jolt and shake came when I swiftly and powerfully switched holes and forced my rampant slick cock into her sphincter ring and beyond. Initially my cock bent slightly as she must have clenched her pelvic muscles in a weak but brave attempt to refuse me access, but my rigid dick bulldozered it's way in.

  Keeping the heels of my hands hard on her back I unclipped her brassiere, tore it roughly from beneath her and put it on the pile of her other undies. I neared my climax, grasping under her torso to hold her small titties and pinch her nipples. I switched my cock back to her snatch, my thumb went into her bum and went to full penetration in one stroke and seconds later unloaded my jism deep in the Asian bitch's hot hole. I imagined her horror that I had gone from shitter to pisser in what could be deemed an unhygienic act, but did I fucking care?

  I rested for a while, soaking in the heat of her delicious quim and then pulled out slowly. Cum dribbled almost immediately and even though I removed my hands, Rani didn't struggle or try to move. I inserted two fingers into the raped mire of her cunt and then played with her clit, getting an obvious reaction of squirming, but I held her firm again and let her enjoy the first element of pleasure she could have received. I unclipped the camera from my shirt and angled it near my hands to capture the moment and the closeups of her ravaged pussy and bum.

  I pulled my mask over my mouth again, then flipped her over again - her eyes were still fiery and defiant, but I didn't give a shit, I was ready for the final stage of her humiliation. Leaving her skirt round her waist, I grabbed my bag and easily dragged her up two flights of stairs to an attic room which was used as storage. It was heated, so she wouldn't be cold. I taped one of her wrists to a rail at the top of the narrow stairs and added more tape round her mouth. Then I bent her over a large deep suitcase or trunk, so her butt was in the air, spread her legs and taped them wide apart, one to a baluster on the stair landing, the other to a lead pipe. She had one hand free.

  I made sure the camera captured her distress, before moving to her face and smearing my soft sticky cock over her face. I then knelt down behind her, removing my mask, she was facing the opposite way and licked her sticky snatch, ring piece and her inner thighs which were now very wet. Gathering my bag, I left her alone knowing she couldn't see my face.

  I hung her big coat, bag and boots in a cloakroom - where else? And collected her jumper, tights, bra and thong putting them into my bag. Tape and scissors were already in. I popped out of the back door and strode across the lawn, over a five bar gate into the copse and on checking both ways down the dead straight lane, got into my car and drove away.

  Back home, I ran the video and edited it whilst sniffing and licking Rani's underwear. The following day I watched the current TV programme. It wasn't the one she'd be (maybe?) making tomorrow and as I watched her cheery persona perform, I wondered if she got loose, she should have done, found her coat, bag and boots and got safe and sound home to her husband -- and did she tell him? Maybe she had been found, not able to get loose. There was nothing in the newspapers about the incident.

  The End.

  Playing with Her Pet

  "Down, boy!"

  He lowered himself to his knees, kneeling in front of his Mistress and looked down upon her long, black boots. She was towering above him, the heels adding to her height. She was dressed in tight and shiny latex which showed off her every curve, of which she had plenty. Her ample bosom matched her hips, the corset clinging tightly to her waist. A black latex miniskirt matched the corset, with nothing underneath it. Her long, loose red hair framed her face beautifully. Unconsciously, he licked his lips, in hopes of what was to come. He felt vulnerable as he sat naked by her feet, enjoying the uncomfortable feeling.

  Wanda ran her fingers through his hair, almost tenderly, before she took hold of it and pulled his head up, facing her. She looked directly into his eyes, darkened with desire, and closed the black leather collar around his neck. A tag on the collar had the word "Pet" engraved.

  She loved the look of the collar; a shiver of pleasure ran through her every time she saw it.

  He sighed happily as he felt the tight leather, loving the feeling of being owned. The feeling of lack of control was long replaced by a feeling of being completely in her control. He trusted her and felt the outside world disappearing as he went into subspace. He was completely relaxed.

  She smiled wickedly at her most prized possession, as her fingers lightly caressed his cheek. The fact that she was an evil Sadist did not mean she was tough on him all the time. She did care for him in her own twisted way. And every time he allowed her to hurt him, she knew he felt the same.

  Fitting all stereotypes perfectly well, they had both had a troubled childhood, issues with their parents and never truly been accepted into society. After having found BDSM, they no longer minded being outsiders and were content with what they had.

  "I've missed you, my pet," she whispered. "I've had this urge to abuse you for the longest time; I've spent the last few days fantasizing about turning that sexy ass red with my whips." Wandas voice had been low and sweet, almost childish, as she said it, with an innocent smile on her lips. He did not reply, but she could see how his eyes darkened even further when she mentioned her whips. He had been longing for her even more than she had him.

  "Lick my boots, I want them to shine," she continued sweetly before adding "I want to be able to see my own reflection or you'll get a flogging you'll never forget!" Her voice had suddenly become harsh.

  A slight grin showed on his face and she knew all about the conflict within him; He had no intention of disobeying her, but he would love to get flogged.

  "Don't even think about it – this flogging would be far worse than even a painslut like you would enjoy," she said tenderly, "now get started!"

  It didn't take long before his tongue was upon her boots. This was what Wanda considered one of her more odd fetishes, since she did not fully understand why she liked it, she just knew that having him clean her boots with his tongue got her incredibly turned on.

  While he was busy working on her boots, she told him about all the dirty things she wanted to do to him – knowing perfectly well that she would not have time for as much as she wanted.

  Once a thin layer of his saliva covered both of her boots and his tongue had twisted its way around the long stiletto heels, she grabbed his hair and pulled his face towards her soaked pussy. All she said was, "lick!" Her voice leaving no room for discussion – not that he wanted to argue with her. Not only did he want to taste her badly, but he also knew it would have painful consequences if he refused. His reply was almost as short, a simple, "Yes, Mistress," was followed by him kissing her vulva.

  His tongue dived into her pussy, separating the folds. He reached her nectar and enjoyed the first taste of pussy he had had in a long time. Heavy breath left her lips as she pulled his face further into her wetness, eager to get his tongue deeper.

  He sucked on her clit, making her moan. His tongue moved along her slit and after moving up and down a few times, it sought entrance into her tight hole.

  She enjoyed the sensations he was causing, but knew she had to stop him. The pleasure made it hard for her to keep standing on the high heels.

  She laughed slightly
and told him not to eat it all now, but save some for later. He looked up at her, his puppy eyes showing that he still desired to savour even more.

  "Now it's my turn to play," she stated coldly as she reached for her flogger. She directed him, made him bend over a table. "You better keep still!"

  The sound of the flogger hitting the flesh could be heard through the apartment. Every time the whip touched his skin, it became a darker shade of red. The beautiful red lines soon turned into entire red areas. She ran her long, black nails across his burning skin. During this, her breath had gone from heavy to very soft moans. She really did enjoy playing with her pet.

  She loved how he whimpered from her treatment, and reached between his legs to reward him for standing perfectly still throughout the beating. Soon his arousal had been re-created, even harder than before. Her nails caressed the head of his cock slowly, scratching it ever so lightly. The mixture of pleasure and pain was obvious on his face.

  After having excited him, she decided it was time to change the pace and pick it up a notch. She pulled him from the table and pushed him onto the bed, where she would have greater access to his cock. Wanda lightly slapped him across his balls. He did not seem to enjoy it, so she decided to repeat it with an even harder hit. Multiple slaps later, he had tears rolling down his cheeks. She smiled wickedly to herself, loving the sight of her slave in pain. She dug her nails into his inner thigh while licking her lips.

  Her red lips closed around the head of his cock, as she began to suck his cock back to life. It was soon standing proudly yet again, ready for her to do with whatever she desired. She licked along the underside of the cock, from the base to the very top. A moan escaped his lips when she once again wrapped her lips tightly around his cock.

  While she teased the head with her tongue and lips, her hand was moving up and down the length. It did not take long before he was on the edge, and with her expert knowledge and experience, she managed to keep him right on edge, changing pace and making small breaks whenever needed to ensure he would not cum.

  "If you dare cum, I'll never fuck you again, pet!"

  She knew that ultimately, she was the one who controlled whether he would cum or not, she could force him over the edge as well as keep him on it for hours. However, the threat turned them both on. On earlier encounters she had pushed him over the edge without permission, just so she would get to punish him – not that she needed an excuse to punish him, it was just more fun that way.

  After having kept him close to cumming for a while, she tired of the game and wanted attention directed at her wet pussy yet again.

  As he lay on his back, she gathered her rope. She quickly tied him up, spread eagle to the bedposts. He lay helplessly and enjoyed his lack of control.

  Wanda placed her soaked pussy over his face, lowering herself onto his eager mouth. He soon started to let his tongue work on her tender folds, driving her mad with lust. Sitting on his mouth, she closed her thumb and index finger around his nose, cutting off his oxygen. His tongue kept moving against her clit as she silently counted the seconds. Reaching ten, she moved her body off his face and let go of his nose, allowing him to catch his breath before lowering herself down upon him yet again.

  It was a hard thing for her to do. While she knew she had to keep her head clear to ensure she would not risk hurting him for real, at the same time moving off his delicious tongue was not easy either. It was one of the things that affected her the most mentally, but due to all the breaks just because he needed to breathe, made it impossible for Wanda to cum in this manner. However, the pleasure she received from being in complete control over her pet was beyond the pleasure of any orgasm she had ever had.

  She moved off his face and kissed him hard, tasting herself on his lips. She decided to gag him, pushing a red ball into his mouth and closed the straps around his head. Wanda kissed his stuffed mouth, loving his helpless expression. Then she kissed, licked and bit her way down his chest and when she reached his aching cock, she once again wrapped her lips around it. She wanted to use his cock for her pleasure and it did not take long before he was ready.

  Straddling him, she slowly permitted him entrance into her tight pussy. She moaned as she felt his cock filling her. She moved up and down on him, as her nails dug into his chest. Her pet whimpered from the pain, the gag made it sound oh so delicious and made her want to hurt him even more.

  Wanda kept moving up and down her pets cock, quickening the pace. Her red hair moved wildly as she rode him. He started to breath heavily and tensed up. She moaned louder, getting close to her own climax.

  "Cum with me, pet," she moaned seconds before getting over the edge. Her pussy spasmed around his cock. She supported herself with her hands on his chest as he filled her with his cum. She started to shake, collapsing on top of him, unable to move as her body shivered, pleasure shooting through her entire body.

  Wanda kissed him tenderly and rolled off him.

  She wrapped her arms around his tied body and cuddled up closely, as they both drifted into a dreamless sleep, still relaxed and sweaty from the fucking.

  The End.

  The Cherry Tree

  The cities still burned.

  The screams were long silenced and flames no longer gushed from a churning black sky, but the western horizon was still marked by four angry, orange-grey bruises. An acrid stink soaked the humid summer air.

  Liorit wondered dully if her mother and sisters had screamed. Shrieking was six year old Amith's habit; she screamed everything from her joy to her anger to her boredom, and would have greeted her first and last taste of true pain and terror in the same way. Shalhavit might have tried not to panic, though. She was tough, for nine, and would have spent her final minutes looking for a way out. And Mother would have stayed brave, for both of them.

  Liorit's throat swelled shut, but the tears would not come.

  She searched for an emotion and found indignation. It was the wrong emotion. She knew that. She should feel rage, grief, fear. But all she managed was mild annoyance with the four unceasing, distant blazes. Why should the cities still burn, now that everyone in them was dead? It seemed so pointless, and that exasperated her.

  The immortals would know. They could speak with the wind and the fire; they could ask. Liorit could ask them, and they could ask the Wild Earth.

  She resolved to ask, and the stinging discomfort in her throat eased slightly.

  Amiel?

  She frowned in confusion when no sound emerged to accompany the thought. She'd moved her lips; she was sure of it. She tried again.

  "Amiel?"

  It was a hoarse whisper, barely audible even in the stillness of the desert.

  "Amiel!"

  There. Her voice was scratchy and raw, but it was there. Liorit found it without relief.

  Amiel didn't answer, though, and she looked around to realize that she was alone.

  She stood on a low ridge, a stretch of dusty earth barely elevated above the surrounding fields of sun-bleached grass. The sun was high overhead, crashing down onto the rolling contours of desert hills; even the pale blue sky seemed washed-out by its glare.

  She tried to recall how long she had kept vigil over the burning cities. She remembered leaving Chay and Liat wrapped together in their blankets. Since close to dawn, then, if the air had still been cool enough to merit blankets.

  Yes, she remembered. A red-gold dawn. Amiel had had the watch while his brother slept. She thought he might have objected to her wandering off, but the details of an argument escaped her.

  No matter. She hadn't gone far. She would find Amiel, and she would ask him about the fires.

  With that resolve firmly in place, Liorit clambered down from her ridge. Her limbs seemed ignorant of the fog that saturated her mind; they moved with their customary sure swiftness, oblivious to the chaos of her thoughts.

  Returning to their small camp, she found Chay and Liat still fast asleep. The blankets had been kicked off to the side, but they were
nestled together despite the heat.

  Liorit let them sleep. She scanned the surrounding slopes for signs of Amiel. It took her some scant heartbeats to find him; amidst the sparse low shrubs and tangled dead bushes, there rose a single flowering tree on a hill.

  The tree had not been there at dawn.

  By the time Liorit scaled the gentle rise, a light patina of sweat covered her whole body, and moisture beaded along her hairline. She wished she'd thought of water.

  Amiel was hunched against the blossoming tree that had no place in the blazing Levant desert. The tree was dark limbed and slender, and dripped with cool pink buds. Amiel was sprawled on its roots, back bent, head bowed, and arms wrapped tightly around the slim trunk. His infuriating, perfect composure was gone. Silent sobs wracked his large frame.

  Liorit hesitated. Her heart slid to the right. She knew she should feel a rage of emotions, but yesterday's horror had wrapped her in numbness. All she felt was pity for the broken man hugging his unnatural tree. All the despair and helplessness piled and concealed in her stomach—fire and wind reducing her world to a smoldering horror, the deaths of her mother and little sisters—every pain and terror channeled themselves into a desperate need to stop Amiel's tears.