“Jesus,” she gasped. She wasn’t sure what the hell that was. It wasn’t quite an orgasm, or maybe it was. It was fading quicker than a regular orgasm, or maybe her brain was just rushing in faster than usual to process the new information. She looked up at Jack and smiled, suddenly self-conscious again. “Hello, sailor,” she said.
“Hey, little lady,” he replied. “How you doing?”
“Good,” she said. “Weird, but good. I’d do it again.” She scowled. “But now I feel all awkward. I don’t know what comes next.”
“Well, we can give it a minute,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He went into the bathroom to pee.
“So how was it for you?” she called through the door.
“Great,” he replied. “Different. It’s nice to see your face when you’re coming. You really get lost, it’s gorgeous to look at.” He laughed. “I always did think you were a better fuckbuddy than you were a lover.”
Her back stiffened. She sat up rigidly and pulled her T-shirt back down over her breasts. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know,” he said. “You were a bit of a black hole when we were lovers. Not really a black hole, it’s not like you didn’t give anything back, but you were awfully obsessed with your little obsession. If we weren’t doing your thing, you weren’t really in the room. You were pretty much…” He came back into the living room, looked at her face, and stopped. “What?”
She was staring at him, alarmed, pissed, her arms crossed over her belly. “You think I’m a black hole?”
“No,” he sighed. “I specifically said you weren’t. I wouldn’t have stuck it out for three months if you were. It’s just, what I wanted always felt like this… annoyance. To you, I mean. Except when it dovetailed with what you wanted. I always felt kind of irrelevant.” He looked seriously at her stricken face and sat down. “Dallas, you’re not an idiot. You must know all this, right? Don’t tell me this is just now occurring to you.”
She glared at her hands, irritated, queasy, silent. She stayed silent for some time. “What did you want that you weren’t getting?” she finally said.
“Well,” he shrugged, “some actual submission might have been nice. You know, that whole ‘My deepest pleasure is to serve your desire, your merest whim drives the whole of my being’ thing. And… well, you might have thought about doing me every once in a while. I’m not always Mister Super-Tough Top Guy. I like to take it sometimes.”
She stared at him as if his skin had peeled back, revealing itself to be nothing more than a clever disguise. “You like to take it?”
“Sometimes.”
She kept staring. “You like to get done.”
He nodded, patiently, kindly, as if he were talking to a slow five-year-old. “Yes, Dallas,” he said. “I like to get done.”
His tone irritated her. “Fine,” she snipped. “Mister Super-Tough Top Guy. How about now.”
“Now?”
“Sure. Why the hell not. Now.”
The last word came out sharper than she intended—less like a suggestion, more like an order. “Yes, ma’am,” he said sardonically. “At your service.”
“Fine,” she replied. “Into the bedroom.” She snapped her fingers and pointed.
He met her eyes, dubious, concerned. “You’re not kidding.”
She looked meaningfully at her pointed finger, then looked back at him.
“You’re certain about this?” he asked.
Now that he wasn’t being an asshole, she wasn’t certain at all. She kept pointing and stayed silent, afraid that if she said anything, even a short word like “yes,” her voice would crack and call her a liar. She followed Jack as he shrugged and walked into the bedroom, and settled herself cross-legged on his bed, her back stiff, wondering the hell she was going to do now. Jack stood in the middle of the room facing her calmly, smiling, waiting. “Now strip,” she said. She sounded pissed. Jack stopped smiling, dropped his eyes, and slowly pulled his T-shirt over his head. He bent over to take off his shoes. “Turn around when you do that,” Dallas snapped.
He stopped. They looked at each other, awkward, nervous, suddenly unfamiliar. Jack was less arrogant now; he was playing anxiously with his belt loops, and Dallas began to panic. If I want to back out of this, Dallas thought, now’s the time.
They held each other’s gaze. He tilted his head inquisitively, a gesture she’d seen him make a hundred times, and she let out a deep breath as she recognized him again. It was just Jack. This would be okay. She grinned at him broadly, and he grinned back, relieved. “While we’re young,” she said.
Jack blushed, and turned away from her. He bent over to untie his sneakers, and Dallas watched the small, compact curve of his ass swell through the fading denim. Okay, this is weird, she thought. But it doesn’t suck. He stood up again, topless and barefoot, and she hopped off the bed and led him over to it.
“Now bend over,” she commanded. “Bend over and pull down your pants.”
It was weird as hell, saying those words herself. Hearing them come out of her own mouth. But they still had the punch. She was just on the other side of it. She could see the words land in Jack’s head, could see the squirming in his belly as he fumbled with his fly, and it echoed inside her own belly. She felt a flash of jealousy as he dropped his jeans to his ankles, jealousy that quickly turned to cruelty and a desire to make him squirm even more. “Step out of them,” she ordered. “I want you totally nude.”
He hesitated for a second, and she slapped him on the ass. He flinched, and complied, kicking his pants away and slowly stretching out in front of her. She bit her lip. In all the times they’d played, she’d never seen him completely naked before. He had a nice body, with wiry legs and a thin, strong back. It was a pleasure to look at, and it suddenly struck her that she could have that pleasure for as long as she wanted. She didn’t have to wait, didn’t have to sit through fumblings and bad guesses, didn’t have to hope that he’d pick up her signals. She could have anything she wanted from him, the moment she wanted it. She could have her own custom-made dirty movie, in the flesh, for her eyes and her hands and her pussy only, just by opening her mouth. She was suddenly impatient. “Spread your legs,” she ordered.
His fingers twitched as he obeyed. She opened his bedside drawer and scrambled through it clumsily, scattering the rejects on the bed. She stripped down and spent a frustrating minute fiddling with the dildo harness, tripping as she stepped into it, then struggling into a pair of latex gloves. She sighed with relief and looked over at Jack. His body was relaxing, not in a good way but in a bored way; he was slumped over the bed, looking like he might start drumming his fingers any minute, and his hard-on had dropped an inch or two. Oops, she thought. She cleared her throat. “Spread them wider, and arch your back,” she growled. “Show it off.” She was immediately embarrassed at herself, she couldn’t believe she’d resorted to such a chestnut; but he wasn’t used to being on display like this, and he slipped back into shame and submission in the moment he complied. Her embarrassment slipped off into a dark corner to mutter to itself, and her impatience returned, restless and annoyed at having been kept waiting. She lubed up her finger, and slipped it in.
He sighed as she fingered him, giving something up, letting something else in, reaching towards her with his ass to beg for more. She quickly slid a second finger in, urgent, curious, in a hurry to get where she was going. She swirled the dildo at the rim of his asshole, and pushed it in.
The rhythm of her hips and the dildo’s pressure on her clit was lovely, and it was frustrating, winding her up like a toy and not letting her go. Her mind scrambled, searching for a foothold, taking a step backward to look around. She saw the bedroom littered with toys and smelling of sex; she saw her beautiful naked friend bent over his bed, squirming and digging his fingers into the blankets; she saw herself, her breasts jiggling, the straps of the harness digging into her ass, her long slender cock disappearing into Jack and then reappearing like magi
c. The picture in her head pushed her up the ladder, tickling the clit in her brain. “Jerk yourself off,” she snapped.
The command in her voice startled them both. She felt it as a strength in her shoulders and a snarl in her jaw; he felt it like a rope around his chest that made his heart soften and his dick stiffen, and he reached obediently between his legs and started stroking, propping himself up as best he could on one elbow. His awkwardness and obedience fascinated her, made her ravenous. “Jerk off, cunt,” she snarled. “Mister Tough Top-Guy.”
An idea flashed into her brain. She kept her hips moving while she scrambled through the toys on the bed. In the jumble of leather and whatnot, she found a small, dick-shaped dildo. “Take that,” she snapped, thrusting it in front of Jack’s face. “Fuck yourself in the mouth with it. Jerk off with one hand, and fuck your mouth with the other. I’d do it, but I’m busy.” He complied immediately, and she twisted her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back hard, eager to hurt him, eager to see the dildo pumping into his mouth. His face was flushed, contorted around the dildo; he was clearly embarrassed, and just as clearly relishing the embarrassment. His blissful greed was so familiar to her; she suddenly knew what she looked like, what Betsy and Jack and dozens of others had seen when they worked her over. It was gorgeous: artless, fragile, stubborn. It was enormous. Her eyes widened, and then twitched: it was too much, she couldn’t think about it right now. She abruptly pulled the dildo out of Jack’s asshole and started smacking his ass with her lubey hand. “Squirt into your hand,” she snapped. “Now.” He gave himself three hard strokes and came, moaning incoherently around the dildo in his mouth. She shut her eyes and kept hitting him, hit him until her hand hurt, until he was whimpering and shaking and clawing the sheets. Sweet Jesus, she thought. What the fuck am I doing? She pulled back her hand midstroke, coming back to earth with a splattering thud. She started caressing his ass with a light, tickling touch. “Hey,” she said anxiously.
He turned over and grinned up at her. His face was vague and stupid and happy, like he’d been eating chocolate and drinking cheap whiskey. “Hey,” he replied.
She drew a huge sigh of relief, and he grinned wider. “So, do you have your answer?” he smirked.
She smiled back, a sardonic vampire-lizard smile. “What do you think?”
“I’m serious. I wanna know. Is this the new Dallas, or is it just a passing fad?”
She wriggled out of the harness and sat down on the bed. “No, I don’t have my answer. Bits of one, maybe. It was great, though. Judges give it a nine-point-seven. If that’s what you’re asking.”
“It wasn’t,” he said. “But thanks.”
She shrugged uncomfortably and changed the subject. “So how was it for you?”
“Damn,” he said. “Lovely. Weird.” She was looking at him intently, and he coughed and averted his eyes. “You know this doesn’t… you and I aren’t…” He looked down, scowling, not as if he couldn’t find words, but as if he knew the words and didn’t want to say them.
“Oh!” Dallas rolled her eyes. “No. No no no. Don’t worry about that. That ship sailed long ago. This is just us. Just friends.” She patted his hand. “Special friends.”
“Good,” he sighed, and squeezed her hand. “So, friend. I have an idea.”
“Uh-oh. That sounds dangerous. Famous last words.”
He stuck out his tongue. “Remember how I used to smack your pussy and make you beg to be bent over?” he asked.
“Duh. Of course I remember. That’s not the sort of thing a girl forgets.”
“Well, now I want to play another game,” he said. “Sort of like that one.” He dug through the pile of toys on the bed and pulled out a slender metal ruler. “Here’s how it goes. I’m going to smack your pussy, and you’re going to beg for whatever pops into your head. Whatever you want most at that moment, beg me for it. You want twenty different things, beg me for all of them.” He caressed the ruler and smacked it against his palm. “I should tell you now, I’m not going to promise to do all of them. I’m not even going to promise to do any of them. I just want to hear you to say them.” He stopped fiddling with the ruler. “Is this okay? Do you want to play?”
She chuckled. “You should have been a shrink. Yeah, sure. I’m game.”
She shoved the pile of toys to one side, flopped back on the bed, and opened her legs, grinning. She felt oddly curious; she’d certainly been on her back with her legs spread before, but she’d never wanted to be there, and she’d always flipped herself over in her mind so she could get off. Now she sprawled back luxuriously and opened her legs, savoring the anticipation, and the novelty of it. Jack pushed her knees up and apart, and she gave a startled yelp. She was used to feeling exposed; she’d had her clothes and defenses and dignity stripped and tossed aside more times than she could name. But she wasn’t used to having her face exposed along with her goodies. Her face felt like an open book, a cheap trashy paperback porno with her wet pussy and throbbing clit right there on the first page. She looked up anxiously to meet Jack’s eyes, but his gaze was firmly fixed between her legs.
He picked up the ruler and started tapping her between her legs, a steady rhythm like a heartbeat. Lightly, then a little less lightly. “Start talking,” he said. “Start begging. I’m listening. Tell me what you want.”
“I want…” She went silent. What the hell did she want? This was so good, so sweet, this, what he was doing right now. She guessed she should say so. “Please, sir,” she mumbled. “Please keep spanking my pussy. Please spank my pussy with your ruler.” She warmed to her subject as the sharp blows stayed steady on her swelling lips and exposed clit. “Please, sir, please make me spread my legs so you can hurt me, please hit my pussy, hurt it, please.”
The pain on her clit was a bit harder now, and her mind darted away from it and raced around her body. She felt empty. Where did she feel empty? She licked her lips, and started begging again. “Please, sir. Please let me suck your cock. Please, sir, force it in, slap me in the face and hold my head still and shove your cock down my throat. Oh, God, please…” Her mind shifted. “I want your balls now, sir. I want to stick out my tongue and lap your balls like a dog, I want you to call me a cocksucking whore while you dangle them in my face and make me beg to suck them, I want you to—”
“Beg me,” he snapped. “You’re not begging. You’re telling me. Beg me. Cunt.” He smacked her pussy hard, a single sharp, cruel stroke that wiped out her words and brought tears to her eyes. He returned to the steady, painful-but-tolerable smacking.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “You’re right, sir. Please forgive me. Please, sir.” She gasped for air and groped, as her mind filled up and started leaking. “Please, sir, oh God, please straddle my face and stick your balls into my mouth, and please spread my legs and whip my pussy. Please make me lick your asshole, please pin me down and grind your asshole into my face while you spread my legs and whip me.”
Her mind was crawling all over her body, groping from place to place like the hands in her gang-bang fantasies. “Please, sir, please fuck my tits, pinch them till they’re raw and then shove them together, please slap my face while you shove your dick between my sore tits and fuck them. I’m begging you, take me out on the street and bend me over a garbage can and pull my pants down and stick a dildo in my ass, right on the street. Please, sir. Please do it, right in the middle of the day, please bend me over and stick a dildo in my ass so everyone can see. Please, I’m begging you, I need it, please take off your belt and beat me and make me crawl down the sidewalk with a dildo up my ass.”
He turned the volume up a notch, keeping the relentless heartbeat rhythm but striking with a sharper hand. Her eyes rolled back, and she started breathing in ragged shudders. Usually when she took a beating, the pain and pleasure were separated, even if just by a tenth of a second; there was the lovely fear and trembling just before, and then the tenth of a second of pain itself, which was in fact painful and kind of sucked, and t
hen the sweet burning high just after, all in sequence, lined up like ducks in a row. But now the pain and pleasure were immediate, superimposed, the wires perfectly crossed, the strands not just twisted together but fused. Her words trailed off into babbling, and she went silent, slipping gently into the electrified darkness. He smacked her hard again, bringing her back with a jolt. “Keep talking,” he said.
She took a deep gasp of air, and continued. “Please, sir. Please keep hitting me. Sweet Jesus, please don’t stop.” Her words came roaring back, a fire in an oil refinery, a souped-up race car driven by a lunatic. “Please, sir,” she jabbered. “Please, I want you to take me to a sex party, one of the skanky ones with all the single straight guys pulling on their dicks, and I want you to make me be a party favor. Please make me lie on my back and spread my legs and let my pussy get fucked by every one of those guys. Except the ones who straddle my face, straddle me and stick their cocks in my mouth and fuck my face until I can hardly breathe. Please, sir, make me be the cocksucking pussy who lets herself get used by all the guys at the party who can’t get laid.” She shuddered, and kept talking, Jack’s ruler driving the words out of her pussy and up out of her mouth. “Please, sir, find me a girl and bend her over the bed, and shove me down on my knees behind her and make me lick her asshole. Please spread her cheeks for me sir, put your fingers right up next to her asshole and spread it wide and make me lick it clean.” She whimpered, and kept talking, the words pushing and bumping against each other, fighting each other to get out first. “Please, sir, please make me spread my legs and then piss on my clit, please pin me on my back and piss in my mouth, please force your cock in my mouth, pull my hair and hold my head and shove it in and make me cry, please bend me over and spread my cheeks and make me beg you to spank my asshole, please make me grovel on the floor and spread my pussy with my hands while I lick your shoes, please make me lie on my back and finger myself while you slap me, beat me, my pussy, my mouth, force me, fuck me, my asshole, spread my asshole, my clit, please…”
Bending: Dirty Kinky Stories About Pain, Power, Religion, Unicorns, & More Page 19
