A toy.
Still paralysed at the threshold to the door, Cynthia shivered as she thought about the kind of toy Master increasingly seemed to want her to be. In their more tender moments, he had explained his desire to help her see herself as a beautiful, sensual woman. It was one of her last few boundaries – her reluctance to allow herself to behave wantonly anywhere outside of the bedroom or the playroom.
As her lover, he had begged her to eschew her librarian glasses and her frumpy sweaters.
Finally, as her master, he had ordered her to.
The memory of his voice, rough and lustful in her ear as he’d explained what he wanted her to do, awakened another blooming rush of desire inside her body and, with a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and brought her hand up to touch her collar. The feeling of leather and metal beneath her fingertips helped to ground her, and she finally found the frame of mind she needed to do what had been asked of her.
She opened the door.
And stepped through.
Cynthia made it about half a block before she realised exactly how wrong she had been, huddling in her entryway and trying to summon the courage to move. Yes, the first step had been the most difficult one, but it had hardly been the only one that would challenge her.
The fact of the matter was that her feet hurt and a bitter winter wind was whipping up her obscenely short skirt, making the bare flesh of her thighs feel numb from the chill. She was still on a sidestreet, and already she had passed half a dozen people, their eyes flashing with equal parts judgement and lust by turns, and she couldn’t tell which one bothered her more.
Or which one aroused her more.
The combination of excitement and trepidation was beginning to overwhelm her as she continued down the street. When she felt her breath begin to catch at all the warring feelings welling up inside her, she forced herself to walk more slowly, one shaky hand coming up to rest on her heart, her fingertips sliding along the edge of her collar, reminding her who she was and why she was doing this.
Reminding her of her master.
Reminding her that while she could never have done something like this for herself, she could do it for him.
She could be his beautiful, sexy, dirty girl.
She could do it because he wanted her to.
By the time she made it to the train station, the pain in her feet had subsided into a low, deep ache, much like the one she often bore from her master’s spankings, and between that and the constriction of her collar around her neck, she was beginning to truly fall into the headspace she’d just begun to grasp on her way out the door. Slowly, as she walked up to the turnstile, she could feel things growing both sharper and fuzzier in her mind.
In her head, she could hear her master’s voice, calling her a slut as he fucked her into the bed. In the lustful, damning gazes of the men and women around her, Cynthia felt like a slut.
Only, unlike the shameful feeling she had expected to accompany those stares, she felt powerful. She felt sexy and alive.
She felt like the kind of girl who could not only walk through a crowded train station without panties, but one who could sink to her knees there on the grimy floor and take her master’s cock inside her throat, sucking him down and making him come while all the world looked on.
Emboldened, Cynthia moved through the station with a sense of purpose, her hips swaying and her chest jutting out more proudly. Her hard nipples were increasingly sensitive as they rubbed against her shirt, every motion sending another thrilling rush of warmth to the space between her thighs. When the edge of her skirt caught on the turnstile, she felt the cold rush of air over her ass, and she flushed even more deeply at the knowledge that she was probably flashing everybody. In her head, she could imagine all the people staring at her bare flesh, her eyes darting to the fronts of trousers that were tightening just looking at her.
By the time she reached the platform, her thighs were slick, her sex swollen, and she found herself shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other as she waited for the train. Per her instructions, she stood at the very edge of the platform, right where the last car would soon be pulling in. All around her, people continued to fill in the spaces and, with a tingle of anticipation, she recognised that the train would be full.
That soon, she would be amid a throng of bodies, encased in their heat, with nothing standing in the way of any stranger’s roaming hand and her flesh.
A rush of warm air bombarded her, pulling her from her thoughts as the roar of wheels on steel drowned out all of the surrounding voices. Her skirt was pressed against her thighs, riding up dangerously high with the force of the wind created by the train. As if on cue, the moment the hem drew up to flutter across her pussy, the doors of the last car slid open in front of her, and she was left burning beneath the stare of a half dozen people, all casting lascivious, judging gazes down her form.
Sucking in a deep breath, Cynthia met each pair of eyes and stepped up onto the train. Bodies parted to make way for her, but she still felt her sides being brushed as she reached forward to grab onto the pole. There were a couple of open places to sit in the filling car, but her master had told her to stand, so she stood, her hips pressing to the half wall between the aisle and the first row of seats, her knuckles white as they clung on.
As it roared back to life, the lurching motion of the train sent another thrill through Cynthia’s body, and she moved with it, swaying with every turn, vibrating with the heady rush of turning wheels. At every stop, more and more people filtered into the car, and it wasn’t long until she felt the crush of heat she had anticipated, bodies all around her.
Then there was a touch – a hand dragging over fabric, rough fingertips on overheated thighs.
She was ready to panic, her whole body tensing and her mind finally returning to rationality, reminding her that she was not that type of woman. That this was wrong.
But then the man behind her spoke.
‘You must be fucking soaked, dirty girl. I can practically smell you from here.’
Master.
The deep, gravelly voice at her ear relaxed her instantly, and suddenly instead of tensing and pulling away, Cynthia let herself fall back, the relief of a warm, broad chest against her spine reassuring her in every possible way.
‘Did you miss me, baby? Or were you too busy being eye-fucked by every man on this train?’
She tried to turn, but his hand clamped down on her thigh, the other one coming up to squeeze her waist. ‘Uh-uh,’ he chastised her. ‘You keep those pretty eyes facing forward while I touch you.’
Melting at his command, she felt her vision glaze over, another wet rush of warmth flooding her pussy as the hand on her thigh dragged higher up, lifting her skirt. Her master’s body behind her and the half-wall in front of her blocked what was happening from the other passengers’ view, but she felt like they had to know. Wasn’t it obvious from the way she panted? From the way her eyes were glazed and her cheeks flushed?
If it was, she didn’t have much time to contemplate it. Hot breath pushed past her ear, making her eyes fall closed with the eroticism of being touched this way, here in the middle of a crowded train car.
‘Now I believe I asked you a question,’ the voice continued.
Her answer was a breathy moan. ‘Of course I missed you, Master.’
‘I’m glad to hear that, Pet. Though I don’t think you missed me nearly enough. Not if this sloppy cunt of yours is any indication.’ His hand moved up the back of her thigh, and she instinctively spread her legs as his fingertips brushed over her lips. ‘Come now, feel for yourself.’
Cynthia shivered when Master directed her hand beneath her skirt, shifting them closer to the side of the car as people exited and entered. Once they were more safely tucked into a corner, she obeyed. Dipping her hand beneath the edge of her skirt, she swiped her fingertips through her swollen lips, drawing just one circle over the needy flesh of her clit.
‘Taste yourself.’
<
br /> Her fingers bore the sweet-salt-tang of sex as she discreetly flicked her tongue over them. It wasn’t a taste she relished, but she knew how much it turned her master on when she licked herself from her fingers.
‘Does it taste good?’ he breathed in her ear, his voice so quiet that even she could barely hear him over the roar of the train. ‘Does my little slut like tasting how bad she wants it?’
Cynthia turned her head to whisper over her shoulder, ‘She likes tasting you better.’
At that, he finally leant forward, pulling his hand away to make room for his hips, the hard line of his cock pressing against her ass. ‘That might be able to be arranged,’ he murmured, sucking softly at the tender skin of her neck. ‘What do you think, Pet? Want to suck me? Right here? Right now?’
She shuddered hard, one hand coming up to press flat against the wall in front of her as her knees threatened to give out. ‘If you want me to,’ she finally answered, the desperate arousal clear in her voice.
‘Such a good little slut,’ he murmured, kissing all up and down her neck and holding her so that her ass was flush with his hips. ‘So eager to please, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she breathed.
‘Maybe I should take you up on that. You have the best fucking mouth.’ His fingers closed more tightly around her waist, and she felt her abdomen twist with both desire and nerves. Pulled slightly from their game, she revisited the limits they’d discussed a few nights earlier. While she’d agreed to sex in public, it had been with the condition that he would only ask under circumstances with minimal risk of getting caught.
She trusted him implicitly, but still, there was a thin trickle of fear that he might push her. That the next step in their journey might be too big entirely.
‘Calm down, Pet,’ he whispered. In spite of his still-gruff tone, his thumb began to rub reassuring circles against her hip. ‘Look around.’
Trying to catch her breath, Cynthia did just that, letting her eyes really focus on what was happening around them. She startled at how empty the car seemed now, compared with how it had been when she’d boarded. Searching the blur of brick and darkness rushing past the windows, she finally recognised that they were well past downtown and heading toward the end of the line.
That soon the train would grow emptier still.
Her mouth formed a little “O” in her surprise, eliciting a chuckle from behind her. ‘You see, love?’
She nodded and sucked in a deep breath that finally seemed to fill her lungs. ‘Yes, Master.’
‘Good girl.’ His fingertips ghosted up her spine before coming to rest just below her collar. The train slowed, screeching to a stop at a station Cynthia knew well, and she watched another handful of people disembark, connecting eyes with one man whose gaze lingered on her tits as he made his way to the door.
Master’s eyes were directed elsewhere, though. Nudging her jaw, he directed her to look to the back of the car and the now-empty bench that faced the rear window, just behind another divider wall. ‘Ah, good. It looks like our seat is available.’ Almost peeling her from the wall, he guided her down the aisle, steadying her against the rocking motion of the train as it picked up speed.
Stopping, he paused and pushed her to the side, brushing against her body as he slid past her and into the seat. It was the first time she’d actually seen him all night, and her chest squeezed at the sight of him, as handsome and dapper as ever in a pale grey suit and tie beneath his trench coat. The look on his face was intense and lustful, but fully in command as he pulled off his coat and motioned for her to sit on his lap.
His body was warm beneath her as she settled atop his thighs, her back to his chest, and she was instantly comforted by the way he closed his arms around her, draping the coat across her shoulders and arranging it to cover her. She could feel his cock, hard and insistent against her ass, and the approving groan that slipped through his lips as she pushed against it made her sex clench.
‘You like that, do you?’ he asked. ‘Take it out, then. Feel it.’
Her nerves fluttered again as she moved to follow his instructions. ‘Shh,’ he whispered. Sensing her anxiety, he brought his fingertips to stroke the edge of her collar in a reassuring gesture that was also a reminder. A warning even. ‘Trust me.’
Swallowing, she did. Opening his fly and sliding a hand into his boxers, she finally found the hot swollen flesh that she’d been craving, her thumb slipping through the slickness at the head of it. His hand brushed hers away, and he pushed the fabric of her skirt up as he pulled her back against him. At the feeling of his cock against her backside, she whimpered with lust and anxiety, each feeding the other until she was a raw line of need.
‘Do you feel how hard you make me? How much I love seeing you all dressed up like this for me?’ He ground against her slowly as he spoke, the slightest flexing of his hips pushing his cock to the flesh of her ass. ‘Knowing I have the sexiest woman in the world pressed against me, ready to please me?’
Cynthia exhaled roughly and nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Go on then,’ he breathed.
Closing her eyes, she hesitated for just a moment, but she knew she wanted this. She was ready to please him.
She trusted him.
Lifting her hips, she felt the head of his cock slide up the length of her slit, pushing tantalizingly against her clit before retreating to rest, thick and full, at her opening. She sat back down with a low whine of pleasure, feeling every inch as he slid inside, filling and stretching.
‘Such a good little cunt,’ he grunted as their thighs met, his body fully seated inside hers. ‘So good wrapped around my cock.’
‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘Please.’
‘Go ahead. Slowly.’ As she began to slide up and down his length, he kept one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder. Every time she rose, he pushed back down, keeping her strokes shallow and subtle, and she felt a pressing warmth inside her chest, knowing that her trust was not unfounded.
‘Do you know how sexy this is?’ he asked gruffly as he slid home again. ‘Fucking you like this? Here on a train? Knowing anyone could catch us with me balls-deep inside you?’
She groaned wantonly in response, his voice exciting her almost as much as his cock, and she could already feel the edges of oblivion as the fire grew between her thighs.
‘Anyone could be looking at us right now, Pet. But they have no idea what’s going on. Only you and I know. Just us.’
Writhing and panting, she worked herself over him, her back arching until he began to press against the electric spot within her with every stroke. ‘I love fucking you, Master,’ she whimpered. ‘Only you.’
‘Yes, Pet,’ he groaned. ‘Put your hand on that pretty little pussy of yours. Make yourself come.’
She obeyed immediately, rubbing her clit in quick circles. Only, as she began to approach the precipice, she heard the scratchy static of the train’s loudspeaker cracking to life.
‘Next stop is 95th Street Station. All passengers must exit the train at 95th Street Station.’
Cynthia groaned in protest and in frustration, hastening the motion of her hand as her master bit down on her neck. ‘Now,’ he growled, licking a long stripe up to her ear. A few short thrusts later, she could finally see the edge, and she let the sensation overwhelm her, warmth bursting out and through her as she exploded in the kind of climax she could feel in her toes and in her throat.
‘Fuck,’ Master grunted, pulling her up until he could fuck her freely from beneath her, pushing into her a half dozen more times before he tensed and cursed, sending a rush of liquid warm through her sex as he spilled and shuddered.
The next few minutes were a blur for Cynthia. Overwhelmed and still quaking with sensation, she was aware of someone approaching their seat, of Richard pulling out of her and securing his coat around her shoulders, helping her up and cradling her against his side as he urged her up and off the train. Somehow, she made it to the top of the stairs where he allowe
d her to pause for a moment, holding her and kissing her temple, telling her what a good girl she was and how much he loved her. How proud he was of her.
All she could do was laugh.
The wind outside was biting, but less so than before, bundled as she was and cloaked in her lover’s smell. With the sort of warm, brisk efficiency she loved him for, he bustled her into a taxi, pulling her against his side as he instructed the driver to take them home. She could feel his hands on her face, tilting it up, where she met concerned eyes and a grim, firm mouth.
‘Are you all right, darling?’
‘Fine,’ she mumbled sleepily. With a contented sigh, she dropped her head back to his shoulder and grinned lazily. ‘Great, actually.’
The worry slowly ebbed from Richard’s posture, and he laughed against her ear. ‘Welcome back,’ he murmured as he stroked her hair.
‘Never left.’
‘Yes, you did, love.’ His hand parted the edges of the coat and he rubbed the flimsy material of her skirt between his fingers. ‘Hell, Cynthia. You left the house. In just this.’
She shrugged. ‘You told me to.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But somehow I never expected you to do it.’
She was suddenly much more alert as she registered his words, sitting up straighter. ‘Did you not want me to?’
He rolled his eyes and bent to kiss her mouth for the first time all day. ‘Of course I did, silly girl. I was just trying to be realistic.’ Pursing his lips, he pulled back to look at her. ‘You seemed so against it. I’m just curious what changed.’
She thought about it for a moment, letting her eyes drift to the windows of the taxi and the city streets rushing by. The whole experience had been beyond sexy, and it had made her feel even more powerful than she could have imagined a few short hours earlier, fretting endlessly in the foyer to their building, trying to summon the courage to follow through.
Sexy BDSM Stories - Volume Five - An Xcite Books Collection Page 2
