by Sara Fields
His touch between my thighs.
His fingers played me like a song, and I was lost in sensation. My punished backside burned, but it only added fuel to the fire. His touch was gentle at first, but it didn’t stay that way much longer. It grew much rougher after that.
I keened with surprise as he forced me closer to the edge and not long after that he took his touch away entirely. The brutal slash of denial ripped through me and I moaned with frustration before his fingers returned. Then he did it again.
And again.
He edged me over and over until his touch became almost too painful to bear, but still I wanted it anyway. He would ramp up my desire until I thought I was just about ready to orgasm and he’d deny me over and over again. I couldn’t keep quiet. Soon I screamed with frustration and I didn’t stop there.
I moaned and cried. When he denied me release for what felt like the tenth time in a row, the resulting ache became too much to bear and I started to beg.
I didn’t care that everyone could hear me. I begged because I thought it might grant me mercy. His fingers returned to my pussy once more and when they roughly forced me close to orgasm once more, I was hopeful that my pleas had been heard.
They weren’t.
He took his fingers from my needy bud and I screamed in agony as the cruel denial jolted through my quivering body.
“Oh, God. Please let me come for you,” I pleaded. It didn’t matter that my words made me blush and that my hips lifted shamefully as I presented my pussy to him in acquiescence. I did it anyway. I hoped he would listen but after he edged me again, I knew without question now that no matter what I said or did, this was only going to end when he decided it should.
Something happened then that I didn’t expect.
A rolling warmth coursed through me. I wanted to hate his level of control over me, but somewhere beneath all the shock, my aching limbs, and the terrifyingly intense pleasure rampaging inside me, there was a sense of liberation that transcended it all.
It felt like complete and utter freedom.
I’d never felt anything like it.
My fingers holding the stool relaxed. I arched my back and accepted that I was about to orgasm at his hands despite the fact that he’d put me on such shameful display.
It was going to happen when he wanted it to.
I rode the painful edge again and again until I lost track of how many times he denied me release. The hurricane of pleasure in my core was growing and I knew that if he allowed me to finally come, the resulting storm might just very well break me.
“You were unsure that you wanted to come for me before, weren’t you, sassy girl?” he asked calmly, his voice still low enough that only I could hear.
“Yes, sir,” I answered forlornly, my voice quivering with the intense ache that was tearing through me at a terrifying pace.
“Do you feel sassy anymore, little girl?” he asked. His voice carried and there was no doubt in my mind that it rang out throughout the room.
“No, sir,” I moaned, as my hips rolled, exposing the wetness that had dripped onto my thighs.
“Would you like to come for me now?” he questioned. His tone was expectant and just as loud. The audience would have heard every last word and I blushed hard as I opened my own mouth to answer.
“Yes, sir,” I pleaded. My mouth had gone dry.
“That is the right answer, little girl,” he said softly, and his rough fingers returned to my clit. I rode the painful wave of pleasure until I felt the telltale signs of orgasm gripping at my core and refusing to let go.
“Please, please, please,” I begged. I knew my words didn’t matter, but I said them anyway. I didn’t know if I could handle another painful denial and I sincerely hoped against hope that he would finally grant me the release I so desperately needed.
I never stopped begging.
This time, he didn’t take his fingers away.
I screamed his name as the first tendrils of my release began to burn through me. Scalding hot bliss radiated from deep within my core, consuming me from within. It started off as a slow searing flame, but it grew more intense with every passing second until every muscle in my body was trembling under its power. I desperately tried to escape the potent ecstasy. He didn’t let me. His fingers continued to torture my clit just as hard as they did before, which only served to intensify my orgasm. I didn’t know when it would end, and I didn’t care if it ever did.
My legs spread shamefully wide and just when my orgasm began to finally ebb away, he shoved two fingers roughly inside my pussy. It hurt. My body wasn’t ready for it and a piercing pain radiated deep into my core. My inner walls gripped at his thick fingers and he pumped them slowly in and out of my pussy as I struggled to take them.
My sharp gasps echoed all around me, stark reminders of my shame. I felt my arousal drip down my folds as he thrust in and out of me and I soon realized that he wasn’t going to stop with just a single orgasm.
I’d never come more than once before. I hadn’t even known I was capable of it.
Shock poured over me like a hot shower as I felt the second one developing deep inside me. I whined quietly in fear. The first orgasm had been intense. I had no doubt the second one would be too and there was a growing fear inside me that it was going to be even stronger.
I was right.
He fingered my pussy roughly, thrusting hard over and over. Pain and pleasure were at war inside me and I wasn’t sure which one was going to prevail. Soon though, the differing sensations inside me transformed into one searing sense of arousal that climbed higher and higher. It not only threatened to devour me, it felt as if it was going to destroy me.
My muscles trembled harder, every movement out of my control. My nipples peaked even harder and an explosion of pleasure finally crashed over me. It was even fiercer than I could have imagined, and I screamed as it rattled through me with the power of a typhoon. My entire body radiated with electricity, every nerve igniting with pleasure like I’d never known.
My inner walls milked at his thick digits. I felt every knuckle as he fingered me roughly and I keened as passionate desire rattled through me. Still, when that second orgasm began to fade away, he didn’t stop.
He forced me to orgasm a third time. My legs never stopped trembling and I never stopped screaming. My pleasure was so utterly intoxicating that I found myself arching into each thrust, taking his fingers more deeply with every last one. My mind wanted to resist, but my body refused to comply.
When my third release faded, he paused and pressed his thumb inside me, thoroughly coating it with my wetness. I lay over the stool, thoroughly spent and sore. With a sigh, I caught my breath.
It had to be over now. Right?
He pressed two fingers inside me once more and with his other hand, he spread my bottom cheeks wide open.
I squeaked in surprise. I didn’t know what to do. No one had ever done that to me before.
“Such a pretty little bottom hole,” he mused, and I gasped with embarrassment. The audience was quiet, but I knew they were watching, and it made my body tremble with horrid shame knowing that they could see the last place I wanted anyone to see.
“Has anyone ever touched you here before, naughty girl?” he asked.
“No, sir,” I quickly replied. I hoped he wouldn’t want to be the first, but somewhere deep inside, I knew he was going to be anyway.
He pressed his thumb against my bottom hole and just held it there for a long moment as I quivered with shame. He spread my arousal around my tight virgin hole and then he pressed gently against it, not hard enough to breach it but enough to send a message.
He could touch me when he wanted, where he wanted, and however he wanted.
My pussy tightened down hard around his fingers, giving away just how much that thought turned me on. I tried to stop myself, but a rush of heat followed, and my inner walls gripped down hard on his thick knuckles.
I’d given myself away.
&nbs
p; He pushed just a little bit harder against my tight hole and I begged him not to take me in such a shameful way. I blushed harder knowing that the crowd could see him touching me there, even as my body burned with a hotter sense of desire than ever before. I squirmed and I whimpered, but that didn’t stop him.
He thrust his entire thumb roughly into my asshole after that. A piercing hot radiating pain centered deep in my bottom and as it raced up and down my spine, I struggled to take it. I clenched down all around his thumb and the agony intensified until I controlled the panic coursing through me enough to relax. Finally, the terrible sting faded away and only a gentle soreness remained.
Then all three fingers started to move.
He forced them in and out of my tight little holes, not caring that I was already sore. He punished me with those fingers and before I could do anything to fight it, a fourth orgasm clawed its way out from deep inside me. This one felt so much different than the others. It was raw and painful and far deeper than all the rest and that terrified me.
The first four times I came for him, the pleasure had outweighed the scalding hot ache that he’d spanked into my backside. My clit was far more sensitive than before and now it was bridging into a soreness that was entirely foreign to me. I knew that the next orgasm was going to hurt.
“You’re going to come two more times, little girl, and you’re going to do it with my finger in your bottom while everyone is watching,” he demanded. I knew enough about him now to be sure that when he made a threat, he would follow through.
My pussy spasmed hard around his fingers and my next orgasm broke over me with a far deeper intensity than any of the others he’d forced from me already. My hips rocked back and forth, no doubt giving the audience a far lewder show than any of them had anticipated. His fingers fucked my pussy and my bottom hole hard enough that I knew I’d be sore for some time to come and still he didn’t stop.
My thoughts all revolved around one simple fact. His finger was in my bottom and I liked how it felt. It was wrong and dirty and taboo, and by all rights I should hate that he’d taken the liberty of being the first person to do so, but I knew I would be lying if I said I did. I liked how it felt. It made me hotter and I knew my orgasm was all the more intense because of it.
I moaned and took it all, reveling in every last second of that orgasm despite the shame that was cutting through me with each breath. When it was finally over, he slowed for several long seconds, allowing me enough time to fully grasp how embarrassingly aroused this entire ordeal had made me.
With his fingers still inside me, he grasped my upper arm with his other hand and forced me up into a standing position. Gently, he guided me around the stool, and I was exceedingly aware of the way my body grasped at his thick digits with every step. He bent me back over the chair, only this time there was something far different about my position than before.
Now I was staring at the crowd and they were staring back at me. I found myself incapable of making even a single sound. My mouth went dry and as my gaze met the eyes of everyone sitting in the front row, my heart began to pound uncontrollably inside my chest. The lights were bright enough that I couldn’t see much farther than the third row, but I knew they were all watching all the same.
I hadn’t been able to see them earlier. I’d known that my bottom was on display for them, but now that I was staring straight at them, my shame compounded into something that made me freeze in place. I bit my lip, shivering hard and forcing my gaze to the floor. He didn’t let me remain that way.
He gripped the hair at the back of my scalp and wrenched my head back up, forcing me to look out into the crowd once more. My head burned, the agony blossoming across my flesh and settling deep in my core with a fierce intensity that left me burning with arousal even as I yelped from the pain. He didn’t let go of my hair either. I held onto the stool and his fingers began to move.
He fingered me roughly from the start. I wanted to fight him. I didn’t want to come while looking out at everyone that had paid to come to my concert, but I wasn’t going to have a choice. His fingers toyed with my body as if he owned it. He played me like an instrument, and I couldn’t help myself as I began to respond once again.
I cried out as he forced one final orgasm to the surface. My pussy throbbed insatiably with painful bliss and I shuddered as my body rose higher and higher until it felt as if my core imploded with fiery passion that I had no hope of containing.
I fell into a scalding chasm of ecstasy that threatened to undo me. My scalp burned and I stared at the men in the front row. They watched with fervent interest as I shivered and moaned right in front of them. I could hide nothing. They’d be able to see every last second of my pleasure and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
Silas’ fingers fluttered inside me. Then he pumped into me much harder. My asshole was sore and so was my pussy, but that only spurred my orgasm on far longer than all the rest. My entire body throbbed hard. My thighs quivered and my fingers clutched at the stool beneath me. I screamed and tears threatened to fall again as pleasure seared me from within.
When it was finally over, I lay over the seat, entirely spent. He removed his fingers from my body, and I felt my pussy tighten a little bit around empty air. He released my hair and made a point to tuck my skirt into the waistband. Carefully, he helped me up to a standing position and I swayed from side to side as I bit my lip and tried to gather myself.
“Come. We’re going to go backstage where you’re going to apologize for throwing a drink and then I’m going to put that sassy little mouth and that beautiful body of yours to much better use,” he instructed.
I knew better than to argue.
Chapter 3
Chloe
He led me off the stage with my red bottom bare, well spanked, and completely on display. I went with him because he didn’t give me a choice.
He paused in the wings and whispered something in one of the guards’ ears, but I was too nervous and embarrassed to hear what he said. He strode through the area backstage as if he knew the place and maybe he did. I couldn’t lift my eyes from the floor or meet anyone’s stare as we passed them. With my spanked bottom on display, I felt a very deep sense of shame, but at the same time I could feel my arousal dripping onto my thighs. Being led like this felt far more personal and I blushed, very much feeling the part of a naughty little girl.
Once we left the stage, we walked down the hall and headed straight toward the dressing room that had been prepared for me backstage. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a ring of keys. He quickly chose one and pushed it into the lock, twisting it quickly until it opened. Gently, he pushed me ahead of him and I followed his guiding hand. I was keenly aware of the fact that he was probably looking at my bright red bottom as I walked nervously into the room ahead of him. I fidgeted a little and wrung my hands in front of my chest waiting for whatever he had in store for me next.
The door shut behind me and I closed my eyes with silent anxiety as I heard the lock click shut. I was locked in here with him. The butterflies in my stomach refused to stop fluttering around inside of me. I licked my lips, although it didn’t do any good. My mouth had gone dry as a piece of cotton.
I heard the sound of his footsteps before I felt his touch.
My heart pounded even harder in my chest. I struggled to breathe.
He approached me from behind, letting his fingers linger on my punished backside. His touch was gentle, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in close against his torso and surrounding me with his warmth. He gripped at my body, grasping at my hips and between my legs so possessively that I burned with heat.
Fuck. The way he was clutching at my body was making me burn with need. I didn’t think it was physically possible, but the more he touched me like this, the more I wanted to come for him again.
His hands lifted to clutch at my breasts, and I couldn’t help but arch back against him and at that same moment, I realized that my bare bottom was pressing
up against his cock. It was still constrained by the fabric of his slacks, but I could tell that he was hard for me. He was enormous, and I swallowed nervously, imagining how it would feel to have his cock in between my legs rather than just his fingers. I wondered if it would hurt. If I would like it.
He grabbed the bottom of my shirt and lifted it inch by achingly slow inch. I moved to grab his hands to try to stop him and he cleared his throat in warning, causing me to drop them to my sides instead. His breath tickled against my neck, making me shiver with nervous anticipation. The satiny cloth slid against my skin like a gentle caress and I hummed nervously as he pulled it over my head. I shivered as I stood there in my lifted skirt and the thin lace of my bra. That didn’t last much longer either as he deftly unclasped my pretty lavender lingerie and tossed it to the floor with my shirt. Lastly, he grasped my skirt and swiftly pushed it down my hips until it fell to the floor.
“Step out of your skirt and kick off those cute little heels. You’re not going to need them,” he demanded. I shivered against him as I did as he commanded.
“Now let me get a look at this beautiful body, naughty girl. I want to admire every last inch of you before you apologize to me properly,” he murmured.
My nipples hardened at his words.
He took a step back and circled around me. The more he looked at me, the hotter I became. He gazed at me with a sense of admiration that made me feel beautiful and when he softly squeezed my nipples and traced along the curves of my breasts, I moaned with need.
“You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? You came six times on stage and still, you want more, don’t you?” he asked when he lifted my chin and gazed back at me with a dark look in his eyes.
“Yes, sir.”
I couldn’t lie. Not with him looking at me like that.
