by Alison Tyler
He guided himself into her and his muscles squeezed against the plug as the tail draped over the backs of his legs. Every move excited him more. Every thrust sent an electric current through him, threatening to tip him over the edge, but he held on, making it that much more intense. He felt Elizabeth panting hard under him. He could feel the walls of her pussy squeezing his cock as she guided his hand to her clit. When he began to finger her, he could tell she was close to coming, but she wrapped her hand around the base of the tail and pushed down, prodding his prostate and sending him right over the edge. He lost all control as he bucked out his orgasm against her, not knowing if she’d been able to climax.
He must have looked upset, when they parted, lying on their sides, gazing at each other. “What’s wrong,” Elizabeth asked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m so selfish,” he moaned. “I didn’t make you come. I’m so sorry but I couldn’t stop.”
“Are you kidding?” Elizabeth replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard before. I could feel that plug in you with every thrust. It was amazing! And when you came, it was like you were a machine, like you were in overdrive. Feeling you pound against me while the orgasm took you pushed me over a second time. Wow. Just, wow. I think there’s more to explore here.”
He kissed her. “Wow is right.” A minute later, he said, “Honey, do you think you can take the plug out now?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I might want to keep you as a pony a little longer.”
He gave her a look.
“Oh, all right. Besides, I’m hungry and you have to go out and pick up dinner. You’d probably scare the pizza guy, if he saw you like that, and we really like that pizza!”
MONTHLY
Vida Bailey
The basement was coldish. Colder when she was naked. Especially when she was cuffed on a length of chain too short to reach the bed. It was a good bed. Not what you’d expect to find in this dungeon, with its one small, high skylight and bare walls and floor. A soft mattress, with deep burgundy sheets and pillowcases. The thick duvet was the same shade, but dotted with tiny white flowers. She loved it. She wanted to be huddled underneath it, her body’s heat accumulating until she was warm and cozy again. Her knees hurt on the concrete but her butt was too tender to sit on that hard floor. She pulled on the chain, but there really wasn’t any give.
Very little of the noise filtered down from upstairs. He’d told her he was having a cocktail party. She hadn’t realized it would be this weekend, and that she wouldn’t be invited. She wondered if it was a work party, or one of the ones she featured at. Not as a guest, as entertainment. Last month, the party had been quite exclusive. Only five guests. Her memories of the evening were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the basement stairs. She recognized his step. Measured, casual, confident. The lock clicked and the door swung open. He could have oiled the hinges, but she suspected he loved the creaking sound.
“God, these people are so boring.” A work do, then. Ben’s other friends were anything but boring. She heard the leather chair in the corner adjust to his weight. She didn’t look up at him yet. The noise of his zipper sliding down was loud in the room. “You look a treat, there, Katie, chained to the ground with your bruised ass in the air. Sore, is it?” She nodded. “What’s that?”
“Yes, Sir. It’s sore. I’m cold, too.”
“Complaints? Oh, Katie. What a disappointment. Perhaps I’ll have to take your bed away completely to make you appreciate how good I am to you.” She was alarmed to feel her eyes prickling at the suggestion. How long had she been chained like this? “Ah, Katie, it’s a pity I have to host this party. They’ll miss me shortly, so I don’t have the time I’d like to teach you a lesson. You need another lesson, don’t you, Kit?” She felt his eyes roam down her spine, over her painted behind. There was no mirror here, but she could feel the bruises blooming on her skin. “Yes, I think so. If I had time, I’d tape those cheeks open and punish that bad little hole with the strap. Your sensitive little asshole gets tender so quickly, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Makes it sting so much more when I fuck it, even though the cold lube on your hot, red skin feels so good, hmm?”
“Yes, Sir.” She heard him stand and walk closer, heard the soft rasp of his hand moving on his cock.
“It’s a pity, Katie, that I don’t have time to open you up right, and fuck your ass. Kit, someone might come looking and find you on all fours in here, with your hole stuffed. Richard’s here, maybe it would be him. I wonder if he’d fire you or promote you, what do you think?” Ben’s hands ran the length of her spine. He stroked over her cheeks and parted them. He squeezed her cunt, and her juice ran over his fingers. “Oh, such a wet little slut. You’d like it if he joined in, wouldn’t you?” Katie groaned and arched toward Ben as best she could. For a second the noise upstairs grew louder and she tensed, but the basement door stayed shut, no more footsteps. Ben pushed her lips apart with his thumbs and sank into her cunt. “This will have to do, for now.” He reached beneath her and pinched her sore nipples with strong fingers. He fucked her with short, tight thrusts, the kind that made him come. It didn’t last very long. He pounded into her with efficiency, reached around to put his fingers in her mouth and came fast. He loosened the chain and pulled her to her knees to clean their juices off his cock. “Don’t get the bed too messy.” He patted her cheek and whisked out the door, back to the party. He left the smell of his aftershave behind, mingling with champagne fumes and the musk of his semen between her legs. She crawled into the bed and fell asleep.
In her dreams she heard music and laughter and the hum of a busy party. Then it changed into someone screaming her name. She floated out of sleep, alarmed to hear the voice still calling, frantic and scared. Through bleary eyes, she saw her colleague Malory kneeling in front of her, calling her. She sat up, letting the cover fall from her and revealed her nakedness and her chained wrists. Malory screamed again.
“Kate! Are you okay? Did Ben do this? Oh god! Oh god, is there a key?” She rattled at the cuffs, staring at Katie’s breasts in abject horror.
“Malory, no, wait, wait.”
“It’s okay, we can get you out of here, there’re too many people here for him to do anything, you’ll be safe!” Katie rolled her eyes inwardly. She could feel subspace Katie backing away, and office Katie slipping back into her heels. She struggled to be kind.
“Seriously, Malory, of all the explanations you could go to, you choose to believe my boyfriend—your boss—is a psychotic abductor who’s going to kill us at his own cocktail party?” Malory’s mouth dropped open.
“What?”
Katie patted her hand.
“This is consensual. I want to be here. This is something we…do, about once a month. Ben and I are more than a little kinky, that’s all. There’s really nothing to worry about.” Malory continued gawping. Katie could see wheels whirring in her head. “Malory, I have a horrible feeling you’re about to say something about Stockholm Syndrome. Please don’t do that. I’m guessing I’m the first person you’ve met who’s come out to you as kinky?” Malory got up off the mattress and brushed the creases from her LBD.
“Please stop saying ‘kinky,’ Kate. As a matter of fact, no, I haven’t encountered anything like this before. And I have to tell you I never would have expected this of you. I’m shocked.”
“Don’t worry, Malory, that’s perfectly understandable. Don’t feel bad about it.” Ben’s smooth voice came from the doorway. Malory whirled around, quite literally clutching her pearls. Ben’s smile was gentle, but Katie could see that he was struggling not to tease his flustered colleague. “Revelations like this can be shocking, if you’re new to them. Perhaps you’d like to sit down in my chair, and I’ll have Katie show you how much fun it can be?” Katie rested her forehead on her knees. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d had her face between a woman’s legs as they spread them on the leather of that chair, but she didn
’t usually have to discuss accounts with their owner come Monday morning. Malory’s horror, however, increased tenfold. If Ben’s suggestion had sparked a smidgen of interest, she pushed it right back down that instant.
“Ben! I’m going to go now!” She backed around him in a small circle and Katie heard her heels skip up the stairs when he started up after her.
“A quick word, Malory.”
Katie flopped back into her bed and pondered. If I was Malory, would I tell everyone? Or would I manage a little discretion? She knew Ben was nothing if not persuasive. Ugh. This could be so messy. She imagined Malory backing up against the chair, letting Ben push her dress up her thighs, spreading them over the arms, pulling her knickers away from her sticky, shocked pussy. She imagineded what it would be like to have Ben’s peremptory hand in her hair, pushing her forward into Malory’s eager, open vulva. She didn’t consider herself bi, but she did love to be made to do unpalatable things. Well, unpalatable was the wrong word in this case. Though…Malory. She considered the fact that Ben only hosted these parties to annoy her. Or torment her. Look at him, her career in potential tatters and he had her thinking about going down on Malory Smithson instead of coming up with a strategic plan. Being chained up in a cellar, covered in cum, was not conducive to strategic planning, she realized. Curse Malory for messing with her cumwhore weekend. Was being locked safely in a basement a couple of days a month really too much to ask? Katie laughed at herself cheerlessly and felt the beginnings of a serious funk begin to settle over her.
It was a couple of hours before Ben came back. He found her lying on her back, staring at the ceiling.
“All right, Kit?”
She looked over at him, eyes large.
“Ben, that was…bad. Do you think I should give all this up?” He slipped his shoes off and got onto the bed behind her, lifting her onto his lap. He stroked her hair with a light, soothing touch.
“You could do that, Katie, though I’m not sure where that would leave me. The question is, do you really want to? Give up this thing that you get so much from, and that doesn’t cause any harm to anyone else?”
She nuzzled into him, the smell of his aftershave, his skin under the dress shirt and jacket. When he put it like that…
“No. No, Sir, I don’t.”
“Good.” He reached for the lube, the strap and the crop, and lined them up beside her on the bed. “I’m so glad.”
DOING IT BY THE BOOK
Tilly Hunter
I felt a bit silly, to be honest. It was a ridiculous position to be in. I’d expected the usual: spread-eagled on the bed with wrists and ankles tied to the corners. But Rob had read fast. I’d got him the book for his birthday, a bit of naughty amongst the sensible stuff he could show the family. Get Your Kink On: A Beginner’s Guide. We weren’t exactly beginners, but all my hints at doing something more adventurous had gone unheeded. But a guidebook, now that he could relate to. He’s a techie. Instruction manuals are bedtime reading.
But my initial thrill when I’d realized I was finally getting something different was wearing off. My ankle cuffs were tied to the top bar of the headboard, pulling my legs up in the air over my head. Wrists were, as usual, tethered to the corners of the bed. My pussy was utterly exposed and it should have been the fulfillment of my long-held fantasies. But all I could think about was the way the position squashed all my flab up under my thighs and gave me triple chins. The muscles behind my knees were starting to ache.
“The position allows the Dominant to perform oral sex, or, should the submissive require chastisement, to administer punishment to the buttocks and thighs with the hand or an implement.”
Oh god, he was actually reading from the text. And although the book was full of good ideas, it managed to convey them in a dry manner more appropriate to a computer programming manual. Rob was reading from Chapter Two: Basic Bondage for Sex and Dominance. The fancy stuff came in Chapter Three: Bondage for Decoration and Art. I knew. I’d already speed-read the book, careful not to bend the pages back, before wrapping it for him.
“The Dominant may also be able to perform intercourse, either vaginal or anal, although this requires a high degree of upper leg strength.”
“Honey, perhaps I should admit that I’ve already read it,” I said it. “So you don’t need to say it all out loud.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t reading it to you, I’m just making sure I cover everything. I won’t be performing anal intercourse though so don’t worry about that.” He carried on the muttered monotone, “The position does, however, inhibit access to the submissive’s mouth.”
Oh Rob, I’m not worried, I said to myself. I’d never had anal, not with him or anyone else and Rob had made it clear the thought of back-door action was a turn-off for him. Ho hum, you can’t have it all. At least he was trying with the bondage.
He’d lined up an array of equipment as if he was setting up a science experiment. Some we already had, a couple of vibrators, a soft blindfold. Some he’d actually ordered new without telling me. That was a first. A good sign. A wand vibrator, a gag, a spanking paddle. He seemed to be taking everything on board at once. But did he really have to lay it out like he was in a lab?
I lifted my head to let him draw the straps of the blindfold over it and moaned softly. I couldn’t see the rolls of flab anymore. Or the line of apparatuses. I felt his mouth on my pussy and breathed hard as his tongue flicked over my clit. But he was gone far too soon and all that was left was a breeze from the window cooling the dampness he’d created.
“Yes, the book’s quite right. Good access for oral sex. Now let’s see about the chastisement. Have you been a naughty girl, Sarah?”
“Oh yes, I’m a very naughty girl making you do this to me.” I played along but I was just going through the motions. I didn’t feel like a naughty girl desperate for a spanking. Even if I usually was.
I felt the paddle rubbing on the back of my thigh and tensed in anticipation. He’d skipped to Chapter Five: Erotic Punishment.
Most Dominants like to introduce the instrument of punishment to the submissive by rubbing it over the area to be beaten in order to sensitize the skin and/or having the submissive kiss or suck the instrument.
The paddle moved to my mouth and I pecked its cool surface before Rob took it away again. I was trying to follow his movements by the sound of his knees brushing on the duvet and the feel of the mattress rocking beneath my back. But the spank of the paddle on the back of my thigh still took me by surprise. I’d been mid-inhale when it landed, making me gasp out what little air was in my lungs and gulp for more. He’d only ever spanked me with his hands before. I wouldn’t say this was harder, but it was different. The unvarying cool hardness of a leather pad rather than the growing warmth of flesh and the variance of fingers, palm, heel of the hand.
Just as I was really getting into it, starting to squeal, thighs tensed and fingers clenched, he stopped.
“You seem to like that,” he said, running a finger through my now-wet pussy. Wet despite his dry, methodical approach.
I didn’t want to have to give feedback on every little thing right now. Like it was some kind of psychological profiling questionnaire. “Yes,” I murmured. “I like that.”
“I’m going to try the gag out now and then some of these other new things I got.”
My moan was one of frustration. I couldn’t explain now, in this position, exactly how he was getting it so wrong. I wanted to cry. I felt the ball gag at my lips and parted them to let it in. He buckled it firmly into place. I gave in to being his science experiment. I realized it was part of us, our relationship. We’d met at work. I wrote the words that sold our company’s wares—tantalizing descriptions that made people desperate to buy into the sophisticated lifestyle a new sofa would bring them. He made sure people could actually buy them, that our website was running as it should, our online security up to date, our ordering system functioning. Now, he was just doing his technical thing, while I lon
ged for poetry. For emotional connection. For a submission I would feel in my soul.
He slid a dildo inside me. The spanking had already made me slippery. He held it there while he fidgeted and fiddled with something else. Plugging something in. Which could only be that new magic wand vibrator he’d bought. I was quite excited about that. We’d always shied away from the price.
Its motor sounded totally different from our other vibrators. A low hum. He pressed it to my clit and it thrummed through me, barely there. He turned it up. Fuck me, it was power-shower intense, if you know what I mean. And it had more to come. As I squirmed as far as my restraints would let me and squealed uncontrollably, he turned it up again. It was right on the edge of a stimulation so intense it would be intolerable. Within seconds I came in an orgasm that clenched every muscle and had me screaming around the gag. But, deep down, I wasn’t satisfied.
We discussed the results of the experiment later over a glass of Rioja. “You seem to have enjoyed pretty much all of it,” he said.
“Yes, I guess I did.”
“But?”
“It’s hard to explain. I wish I could create some kind of collage of all the crazy, kinky thoughts and images that go through my head. I liked it all, I liked the position and the spanking and the gag and the wand vibe. But overall, it felt very mechanical. Like you were just following the instructions from the book instead of being actually there with me, in the moment.”
How could I say that it was just the way he did it? That he hadn’t seemed like the natural Dom I wished he could be? That I wanted him to do a Superman-style transformation from rational techie into teasing, inventive fuck-god.
“If you can’t tell me, maybe you should show me,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You do it to me. Just once. An experiment for you to show me what you mean. I’m not saying I really want you to, but if that’s what it takes for me to understand, then you show me.”
