by Dark Angel
"You liked that more than I thought you would, C, but we're not done yet." Mr. M's eyes drop to my pussy and his hands come down, hard. Right before my pussy, next to my thighs. Again, he's not hitting softly. This is a punishing pressure, and I'm so sensitive and needy that it makes me scream out against my gag. If I could talk, I would be begging him to stop. The he switches to one hand, and that hand? Smacks me right on the pussy, making me shout in sensation. It fucking hurts. It hurts so goddamn much but I'm...so wet. I'm terrified that he'll stop and I'll be left to burn where he's spanked me, my ass and pussy ablaze, and with no relief. That's the real torture here. He's worked me into a frenzy, but he's not letting me have any release. He keeps spanking my pussy and I'm yelping. Fat, hot tears run down my cheeks as I'm aching for him to make all this pain mean pleasure. I want more. I want it to stop. I want it to break free what's swelling up inside of me. There's a pulsing heartbeat in my clit desperate for him to keep going, to stop, to never stop touching me. I'm so confused. The heat map of my body is all I can think of. I'm not afraid or stressed; I'm consumed by the flames licking at my soul. His slaps stop and he presses four fingers into my pussy, I can see and feel it, and his thumb starts to circle my clit.
"Now, you will not come until I say you can. Be good for me. You're doing so well, C," Mr. M says practically purring his praise and that's enough to send a rush of arousal to shake me to my core. I'm trembling, squeezing his fingers claiming my pussy, pressing into me so good. I'm slick, dripping, and his fingers meet no friction. He's fucking into my pussy so fast that I couldn't keep up with the sensation or my breathing if I wanted to. Every inhale turns into another flutter and I feel an orgasm so close and pushing back those waves is literally painful. I need to come. It is all I can think about. I'm begging, which is only mumbling against the gag, but I hear him sternly say, "No."
I have to listen. I will. It matters to me more than anything in the world, I realize. I'm consumed with this need. A black spiral within me winds further and further down, and I keep sliding. Push back the waves of pleasure and force the orgasm to recede, stay on the precipice but not completely. Not until Mr. M says I can come. I stop begging and start breathing.
"Do not come," his voice is ragged, his breathing altered. I'm affecting him, and in return I'm not to come. This truly is punishment.
He jerks his fingers from my pussy. Mr. M no longer brushes my clit over with his thumb. Instead, his mouth is hovering over my pussy, I can feel his hot breathe against my skin.
"You are not to come," Mr. M commands me. I realize what he's going to do. His mouth sinks down on my pussy, tongue lapping over my clit and through my folds, and I'm alive with sensation. I'm crying harder, rolling my hips into his mouth with greed, and the waves are getting harder and harder to push back. He shakes his face around me, even nips his teeth at the swollen lips of my pussy so desperate for him to let me finish what he's started. But still, he keeps going. His hands reach up and undo my gag and I'm terrified. I can't stop with my long moans. His fingers wipe away my tears while he meets my rolling hips and presses my pussy against his mouth. He's kissing my pussy roughly, then fucking it with his tongue, and I'm so overwhelmed and trying not to talk so I squeeze my eyes shut.
“This is mine," Mr. M growls against my pussy.
The vibrations make me whimper, but I obey. I feel like any second now, I will come, and then I will be punished. I'm not allowed to come. He’s about to tear an orgasm from my body and punish me because it isn't allowed. My desperate need to please him is all that I cling to. In one final push back of my orgasm's tide, that's when he looks me in the eyes, visible over the top of my pussy. "Ask permission to come, and I might let you," and he sinks his mouth back on my clit and slides several of his fingers, I can't even tell how many, into my aching, needy pussy.
"Please, please, Mr. M, let me come for you," I beg, so horny that I’m desperate for release and I’d do any amount of begging to get to it.
"No," Mr. M says. He pulls his fingers out of my pussy and brings his mouth up from my clit, and he sucks every drop of my arousal from his fingers.
Then, while I tremble with need, he gets closer to me, his face close enough to mine that our noses are pressed together.
"Please, please let me come for you," I whimper.
He presses two of his fingers into my mouth and I taste my arousal, tangy yet sweet, on his fingers. I suck like they are the air I breathe.
"No," he says.
I'm so desperate to come. I don't know what to do. He is torturing me. Why won't he let me come?
When his fingers slide out of my mouth, I try to breathe. I want to ask him again, but something makes me wait.
"Now, come for me," he finally says.
I get shivers all over my entire body, as the waves finally roll over me and I give into everything my body aches for. I'm screaming, moaning, writhing in my bondage as I fall completely apart in the most shattering consummation of sensations that I have ever experienced. I'm never going to be able to go back from this, something in my mind whispers. The gushing arousal dripping down my thighs is sexy as hell to me. This mysterious man played my body like an instrument and I was full of some dark magic rushing through my veins. "Thank you, Mr. M," I say when I'm trembling in the aftershocks of my orgasms.
He reaches down behind my back and undoes the restraints, rubbing my wrists and ankles where I have little lines from being bound. "You did very well, C." His praise in this moment, after everything, is somehow just as good as an orgasm. And that orgasm was so incredible. He makes me feel in ways that I don't know how they are possible; he's certainly a sorcerer, the way he conjures demonic depths of pleasure that contort not just my face, but my soul. Mr. M, has twisted me up in a way I don't understand, but I'm not sure that I want or need to understand. He's too complex for me to fully grasp. Particularly when I don't understand his intentions, or the full extent of his desires. I'm exhausted and exhilarated.
“Close your eyes,” Mr. M says.
I do so, and he removes the blindfold.
“Your car is waiting,” he says. “Gather yourself and the driver will direct you back to your vehicle, he’s just outside the room.
I look up after Mr. M finishes speaking, but he’s already gone.
When I drive off, I think about everything that had transpired recently. True to Thomas's word, I have made more money than I thought possible.
It feels good to have someone managing my clients, keeping the money flowing, and providing the muscle if needed, but Mr. M in particular left my head spinning. I don’t know what to think about tonight.
I do know this…I want to see him again. David’s face flashes in my mind again, and I’m conflicted. I don’t know how to feel. I still want David so much, but the mysterious Mr. M has challenged my mind on what I truly desire.
20
David
Slipping into the Mr. M persona is more dangerous than I thought. I talked to Christina more than I meant to, and I kept thinking she would know it was me. Maybe on some level there’s a part of her that does know. Granted, I think Christina is more trusting than even she realizes, and maybe she just trusts that I was going back to Stanford for finals.
What she doesn’t know is that I took all my finals in a few hours. Yeah, I know, unfair. I have a perfect GPA, a perfect cock, a perfect body, and, soon, I’ll completely have the perfect woman.
I see I have a text from her.
Christina: I may have to text you more. Though FaceTime was certainly…enlightening.
I smile. After Mr. M, she still wants to text me…that tells me just how deeply connected we are. I know she felt everything I did during our Mr. M rendezvous and, yet, here I am texting her.
David: I think you should. What are you doing right now?
I know, that’s an unfair question. She's probably getting ready for another John, and I maybe put her in an awkward situation.
I’m getting her out of this mess soon. I'm le
tting her spread her wings right now, but who says I can’t ask her this innocuous question.
Christina: Texting you. Thinking about the future.
Wow. I’m fucking floored. She sent that message without hesitation. She could be on top of another man’s cock right now, which I know she isn’t, and that message would still sink into my gut.
David: Do you think we have a future?
I can't help but ask her.
Christina: I hope so.
I'm worried for Christina. When I found out she became an escort, my first thought to confront her and tell her to stop and be just mine. I took a craftier, sneakier route, to keep her from having her freedom squashed. But now I wonder if she’s as melancholy as she sounds.
David: Can I call?
I wait several moments and there’s no response.
Fuck.
I go ahead and press the button to call, not wanting her to vacillate more than she already may have.
“Baby,” I answer the second she picks up.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have whined to you like that. I just don’t know, David, I worry about…" she pauses. “You know what I worry about.”
I inhale. “Yes, I do,” I tell her. I clench my fists because I want to be able to take away all her frustrations. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I hope so," Christina says, and she laughs.
I laugh with her, but I take this shit to heart.
I can’t make her mine fast enough.
21
Christina
I look over at the two frat boys that are using their fathers’ money to afford a session with me, and I can’t help but think about how different from David they are. I have my phone on me and I realize that I'm getting texts — from Mr. M!
Completely wishing that I could blow off these clients, I debate whether I should read the messages or if I should ignore them right now.
I decide to look, and I see the message and I’m stunned for a whole moment.
Mr. M: Dream of me.
I could faint, the implications of this message make me so weak kneed. I channel that lust into putting on a good show for the twin doofuses watching me.
It takes me all of 5 minutes of playing with my pussy and telling them to come on me for them to both blow their loads, and I head back to my hotel room to shower off their cum.
I decide to take a nap…but the dream I have isn’t quite Mr. M so much as David. I’m torn on how to feel about that, except I know it makes me wet.
After the new adjustments to clients not touching me, the growing feelings I have for David, and my general horniness that is pounding at my brain…and my pussy, it is no surprise that I have a worried sex dream about us.
In my head, we’re in some hotel room that I’ve never been before. David is wearing Mr. M’s suit that I only glanced for a moment, but I know it is David and I know it is Mr. M’s suit from that night. The dream starts with David kissing me so intensely that I can barely breathe.
I pull back from our kiss, pressing my fingers to David's lips. “You steal the life out of me when you kiss me like that,” I say, breathless.
David captures my wrist, pulling me to his side by my hand. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks, his voice husky, talking through gritted teeth with an intense passion.
“I’ll scream if you stop kissing me,” I tell him. Melodramatic, and utterly true. We’re like this, and if you don’t get it by now, you’re reading the wrong story.
“I want to worship your body,” I tell David.
He smirks at me so deliciously, but the way that he looks down, his face heats a little, he sucks in a breath, I know that no one has said such a thing to him before. Not anyone that he wanted before. “I want you to be mine forever. I need to be yours,” I say, whisper soft but sounding out everything that I desperately need.
Am I foolish, especially since David is so young? We are meant for each other. I feel it. And when David looks at me, when he touches me, I know that he feels it, too.
David tangles his fingers through my hair and pulls me to him, where I am beside him, kissing the side of my mouth and moaning against my skin. I’m on fire when he touches me, and I’m desperate for him to touch me every way he wants to. I want to be a vessel for his pleasure the way that he’s the creator of my ecstasy.
His other hand starts to take off my clothes, and he steps behind me to pull off every inch of my clothing until I’m completely bare before him.
Pressing a small kiss on the nape of my neck, David makes me shiver but he makes me wait. The tantalizing wait makes me desperate for him but I wait, I breathe, I become more and more aware of how I can’t see him and I can’t feel him right now, but I don’t turn. I don’t turn because he hasn’t asked me to, and I like being part of his power play.
I hear his clothes hit the floor. I see the pile out of the corner of my eye.
Then I feel his hands close over my forearms. David's cock is pressed against the seam of my ass, the planes of his chest press into my back. David draws his hands around me and cups my bare breasts. His mouth is on my neck, kissing me tenderly. His tongue glides over the curve of my collarbone. I moan, rubbing my ass into his bare cock, begging him to give me what we both need.
David trails a hand down my stomach and I whimper, begging with only sounds and not words for everything I need him to give me.
“You’re my perfect woman, waiting for me to touch your pussy,” David says, lips pressed against my shoulder blade now. “Are you so wet for me? Will I find you soaked for me?’
“Always,” I say, exhaling. Every time I breathe I press his cock against my ass, brush it against me more.
His other hand still on my breasts closes over my heart. David's fingers capture my nipple and tug fiercely.
I yelp. Every sensation that should hurt or confuse me only serves to heighten my lust and I’m desperate for him. I ache for this touch but I’ll only beg so much as it pleases him. Desperately wanting him like this is part of pleasing him and I love every minute of it.
“Your body knows my touch as much as your heart knows how to beat,” David says, and I feel his fingers finally brush my pussy. He traces around my pussy lips, then spreads me and teases around my clit. But he doesn’t touch me enough yet to take this to another level. He just tortures me so deliciously that I feel like I’m becoming delirious.
I need this more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life. It tastes so different to want something and to not almost viciously pursue it. The passionate and intensity that I would normally apply to pursuit I now apply to being pursued. David's own intensity matches my desire, sates it, serves it, and creates a raging sea of passion between us.
David growls against my skin, jabbing his cock between my ass cheeks. That thrust and groan is all the warning I get before he starts to work my clit, rubbing rough circles over my sensitive spot with such fervor that I start to sweat and pant. I fall back against him, and his other hand wraps around and holds me. The passionate, rough yet tender fury that David shows me now makes me ache. The dull ache within my body pulses through me and my eyes start to well up. The thick rod of his cock against me makes me hungry. I need him with a maddening lust that eliminates everything from my thoughts but desire.
The arm that’s gripping me tight keeps holding me tight, but the hand dips into my pussy, and he slides several fingers into my pussy. He pumps into me and strokes my g-spot. The instant intensity makes my pussy tremble and shake.
“You better come hard, Christina, because whatever cream you provide is what I’m using to lube up your ass while I finger your pussy,” David says, lips trailing my spine.
Holy fuck.
I know I have the same words, but I in no way want to use them. I want every hole of my body to belong to David, and the idea of using my cum to fuck me more is just so intensely hot that I can’t stand the idea of waiting a second longer.
I don’t have to wait much longer. David's teeth are on my earlobe
and he sinks his teeth into me. I yelp, and his hands working me over make me shatter around his hand. His fingers milk every drop of cream from my aching, greedy pussy and I’m desperate for him to keep going.
And I want that forbidden, incredible pleasure of that massive cock deep in my ass. I am so wet just thinking about it that my thighs are streaked with pussy juices sliding down from my arousal.
“Fuck my ass, David. Claim me,” I tell him.
“I want all your holes,” David growls. “I’m going to fuck your mouth after this, all your holes should be stuffed with my cock as much as possible.”
David slides his hand back and lubes up his cock and then presses a hand against my back to bend me over. “Push out with me and let me open you up, Christina,” David commands.
I obey, and that’s all I want. To be filled with his cock and to obey his every order. They meld together in a potent cocktail of lust.
“And breathe for me, baby. It will feel so much better if you do. And you use your safe words if you need to, of course,” David says, sweeping some of my hair back and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
