Hidden Passions, Vol 2

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Hidden Passions, Vol 2 Page 4

by Stephanie Burke


  He would get no movement out of me.

  He used his hands to spread my legs further apart, then knelt between them.

  “Such a pretty little playground,” he murmured. I felt the very tip of the feather caress my clitoris. I forced myself to utter stillness as he raised his free hand to part my nether lips and expose my throbbing nubbin to his avid gaze.

  “Just here, my dear. Just enough stimulation right here.”

  And that was all he touched. At first the feather was almost irritating, so sensitive was my flesh. Always before I had overall stimulation before my clitoris was touched, but he was wasting no time with that. The end of the feather prodded me, stroked me, flicked against me until the irritation turned into an itch.

  I fought to keep my hips still as he plied me with his feather, but the itch was soon turning into something more—a burn.

  I wanted to scream at him, Touch the rest of me, but I knew he would carry out his threat if I moved, so I held my breath and did my best to remain quiet.

  Soon his fingers holding me open were an irritant. My swollen clit screamed for relief as I could actually feel it throb with his caresses, but still he applied his feather faster and harder until I felt pleasure and pain meld into one. A fine sheen of sweat covered my body. I strained to remain motionless. His torturous touch was driving me crazy, but not enough for a full climax. Finally I could take no more!

  “Please,” I whispered, small shudders running the length of my body. “Please stop!”

  “Who are you addressing, Exotica?” he asked, his breathing hard and labored.

  In my own misery, I had failed to notice he was facing his own crisis. I could see sweat beading up on his forehead and his arms trembling with his restraint. His swelling cock had reached gigantic proportions and was full and throbbing, changing color with his pent-up desires. He wanted me as much as he had made me want him, yet he still had control.

  “Please, who, Exotica?” he again demanded as he twirled the feather around with his deft fingers and scraped the stiff quill against my engorged clitoris.

  I felt explosive, swollen and tender, and I knew that I couldn’t take much more. I was a novice at this and he was clearly the pro.

  “Please, Master!” I cried out with a sob. Immediately, he cast aside the feather and replaced its blistering touch with his tongue.

  “Oh, oh, oh!” I panted as his tongue swirled and twirled around my distended flesh.

  “Rewards for obedience, Exotica,” he whispered before he took my clit between his hot soft lips and suckled.

  “Oh, Master!” I cried out, arching up for a deeper caress, but he steadily drew on my swollen flesh, ignoring the rest of my weeping sex.

  Finally, just as I felt myself begin to tip over the precipice into a tremendous release, he pulled away.

  Reaching up, he grasped my pearl-bound hands and drew off one long rope.

  By now I was frantic, my most private self felt alien to me like a separate being demanding satisfaction. I twisted and writhed on the bed in a passionate agony at the mercy of the Master.

  “These will look good, little one, sliding across your soft skin, absorbing your heat, bringing me pleasure.”

  He first trailed the pearls across my engorged breasts. They contrasted sharply against the flesh of my nipples and caused them to almost burn with desire.

  “Would you like me to kiss them, Exotica?” he asked.

  “Yes, Master,” I whispered.

  With hungry intent, his mouth descended upon me, his tongue wrapping and pulling at my nipple like he had earlier pulled upon my throbbing clitoris. His other hand slowly plumped the flesh of my other breast, before his fingers clamped down on that nipple. The semi-rough caress of his hand matched the almost painful suction he applied to my nipple. Sparks shot to my stomach, causing my hips to rise against the satin of his spread and my ass to slip and slide until he pulled himself away.

  “I must have you!” he demanded. Eagerly I reached a hand down to guide him. That’s when I felt the pearls still hanging around my wrists. Time to tilt the balance of power in my direction!

  Instead of assisting him in entering my body, I quickly tangled one strand of pears around his thrusting flesh.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded, some of his ardor cooling, but I ignored him as I frantically unwound then wrapped the flesh-warmed pearls around the base of his masculinity.

  Instead of pulling away, he moaned and gently pulled against the round resistance of the pearls.

  “Exotica,” he breathed, but now I knew what to do.I wrapped those pearls around almost his whole length, stopping a few inches below its pulsing head. I tightened up my fist and pulled the rope taut!

  “Allah!” he cried out as I felt the rope tighten and the pearls roll up and down, rolling on the string and along his length.

  “Exotica!” I purred as he shot me a funny look before I ran my other finger along his caged shaft. “My name is Exotica.”

  His body shuddered as pleasure built in him. His hands reached for me, but after I wrapped a loop around his testicles, he quickly moved them back.

  Now I had a dilemma. I could hurt him, unman him, and humiliate him as I was in the pole position, so to speak. Or I could use this situation to my advantage. The fact was, if I hurt him, I was dead, but if I gave him pleasure beyond his wildest dreams, I would hold a key to this grand place.

  Gently, I reached down and began to run my fingers along the taut rope of pearls, admiring how the colors flashed in the dim light.

  “Shall I please you, Master?” I asked as my eyes stared innocently into his dark ones.

  Smiling down at him, I rose to my knees to straddle him and lowered my upper body. Gently, I nuzzled him against my cheek, enjoying the exotic smell of his heat.

  I moaned slightly as I felt his hands caress my bottom, but I still kept a firm grip on my new “lead line.” Then, following his early example, I took the head of his manhood into my mouth and gently suckled.

  His whole body began to shiver and I felt the head grow even larger. He tasted of exotic spice and of man, a little salty, yet mellow. I felt his hands travel from my hips to gently cup and knead my breasts. A new flare of desire filled my being and I pulled harder at his hips. The pearls were now almost hot to the touch, and he began making little thrusting movements with his hips. I rested one hand against his waist to hold him back, but then the game had gone too far.

  With a low shout, he pulled me to my knees. In an instant, I was on my back and he was thrusting his caged length into my body, my hand trapped between us.

  “Oh, God!” I screamed as a thunderclap of pleasure filled my pussy! He was big—bigger than any man I had ever taken before, and the pearls only made him thicker.

  “Relax, little one,” he breathed as he dropped his chest lightly over mine. “You play a good game, but now it is time for the finish.”

  Forcing my body to relax, I listened as he instructed me to bear down, and suddenly I felt the first loop of pearls at my entrance.

  I didn’t know which was hotter, his scalding flesh or the pearls which seemed to radiate our combined heat. Yet still, he kept pushing.

  My hand tensed, pulling against him as he pushed the first row within my drenched opening.

  “Oh, God!” I panted. I felt myself give and stretch, his naked flesh gently caressing, the hard pearls rolling and stretching me.

  “Take more,” he commanded. He pushed harder, sinking still more of himself into me, opening my senses and igniting nerves that had never before been touched.

  “Your wet heat slips between the pearls, making them kiss me with pleasure, Exotica,” he moaned in my ear as he pulled out slowly and thrust in again.

  I could feel the pearls rolling, clicking against each other, and the vibrations sent streaks of pleasure straight to the heart of my arousal.

  With a deft movement, he changed the direction of his penetration and the pearls rolled against my sensitized clitori
s.

  “Yes!” I cried in unbelievable ecstasy as I felt wave after wave of pleasure rush over me.

  He had to feel the same because his stabbing motions became faster and deeper, my hungry body opening to receive all he had to offer.

  Faster and harder we moved, the movement of the pearls a counterpoint to his powerful thrusts.

  Then suddenly, uncaring of the consequences, he reached down between us, gripped the my hand that held him tightly, and with a powerful yank, pulled it free. His action freed him to slam powerfully into me one last time. The pressure of the pearls against my swollen clit, caused my body to stiffen and erupt in a flurry of inner convulsions.

  As he touched the entrance to my womb at the end of my throbbing pussy, I felt him stiffen and cry out as the pleasure overcame him, too, causing his slim hips to jerk and his muscles to tremble.

  “Oh, Exotica,” he breathed in my ear, arms still too weak to move.

  I said nothing, my body so replete with sensations that movement was uncomfortable.

  Slowly, he reached up and gripped my hand still partially wrapped in the broken rope of pearls. Gently he laved my palm with his soft tongue before he slowly eased out of me, careful not to let any pearls remain within me, and rested his head against my breast.

  “I may have to keep you,” he muttered. His eyes closed and he began to drift off to an exhausted doze.

  Slowly, I lifted the hand he had kissed, the one still trapped within the confinement of the broken leash, and buried my fingers in his soft, loose hair. He moaned in delight and moved closer into my touch, the remaining pearls running softly down his face.

  As I settled in comfortably, I thought to myself, Gotcha!

  In a few weeks, I’m gonna own this place.

  War Love

  Lost in the jungle, the last thing I expected to see was a massive stone shrine.

  The Amazon had always fascinated me, called to me. So, earlier in the day, I had left my colleagues behind at base camp and decided to hike out on my own. I had only walked a few yards when, as if magic, the foliage closed in around me.

  Within seconds I couldn’t tell north from south or east from west! I knew that I was lost.

  Walking on for what seemed like hours, I hoped to find one of the friendly tribes of natives that had often acted as our tour guides on this expedition. But I saw nothing but the deep greens and reds of the steamy jungle and the occasional flash of an animal as they traveled from treetop to treetop. So you can imagine my shock when the temple just appeared out of a break in the trees.

  Before I could take another step, a voice shouted out to me in an unfamiliar dialect. Immediately I was surrounded by a group of ferocious-looking natives.

  They appeared to me to be warriors because of large spears they carried and the bright red war paint smeared on their faces. I wish I could have described them better, but my fright nearly left me paralyzed. I never imagined to find myself in such a predicament! I thought I knew the jungle and its inhabitants.

  I thought wrong.

  One warrior grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the vine-enshrouded temple and all I could do was gape! The thing was enormous! Dark green and gray ropes seemed to encircle it, providing a twined cover of sorts that would disguise it from casual sight.

  Roughly, this loincloth-garbed warrior pushed me through a small stone doorway, forcing me over broken rocks and what seemed to be the clutter of centuries that led immediately into a large dim room.

  Before I could open my mouth to utter any protest, I was shoved to the rough ground on my knees. In the darkness of the room, I could barely make out a form sitting on a stone throne.

  “Who dares invade my sacred place?” a deep voice boomed out in a dialect I understood. The warrior standing next to me this time fisted a handful of my hair, and jerked my head back so that I could see the speaker.

  Tall and muscled with deep bronze skin and long dark hair, this man was a warrior’s warrior. I stared mesmerized by his black eyes as he examined me from the top of my now mussed and tangled hair to the bottom of my worn hiking boots. He wore only an animal skin breechcloth over a body that seemed to be hewn out of dark stone.

  “I…” I started, but was cut off.

  “No one speaks without my permission! So the gods sent you for the fertility ceremony. You are unusual, but the gods have decreed it to be so.” He again lazily examined my body, but this time with heated eyes and a slightly sensual curve to his full lips.

  “Prepare her!” he rapped out and the warrior pulled me from the room, followed closely by his comrades-at-arms.

  In a smaller chamber, the men stripped me of my clothes despite my vocal protests. No matter how I begged and pleaded with them, no matter how hard I fought, they continued with the task presented to them.

  One tall, well-made man pulled me into a hot bubbling pool. He held me, arms outstretched, while another tall and disturbingly well-endowed and naked man gently soaped and rinsed my quivering body. Starting with my face, he ran a soft natural sponge over my features, washing away travel grime and sweat. I sighed at the heavenly feeling of having my face cleaned, despite the circumstances. But he did not stop there. His sponge moved in lazy circles over my aching shoulders and neck, massaging as he cleansed me and began a process that relaxed me against my will. Then he cast the sponge away.

  With his bare hands, he stroked my breasts in such a way that a gasp was torn from my wet lips. My nipples were circled gently. His fingers barely touching my skin as his thumbs caressed the sensitive flesh under my breasts, areas I never thought to be erotic. He grinned lazily as his hands traveled teasingly down to the delta of curls between my legs.

  I was shocked. But even more surprising was the fact that I spread my legs wide and let those talented fingers work on me. He duly cleaned and pleasured me, his fingers gently caressing my lips and teasing my clit, so that the warrior holding me was now mainly for support. I moaned and arched my back as his magical fingers stroked and gently tugged at my clitoris.

  His knowing fingers circled and rubbed me and I could almost feel spasms that approached. My back arched and my moans, combined with the sound of the moving waters, filled the caverns. My eyes closed and my teeth bit into the soft flesh of my lower lip as my body began to tense with burning pleasure. I could feel myself building and building as I tugged at the hands supporting me, desperate to find something to quench the burning fire roaring in my loins!

  But before I reached my peak, all movements of his hands and fingers ceased.

  Bereft, I whimpered and arched my hips in his direction, wordlessly demanding that he finish me. But he just backed off, leaving me a writhing mass of nerves and hormones.

  I was carefully rinsed with handfuls of the warm water that trickled down my body, sending flashes of heat through my already aroused flesh. Once my erotic torturer was done, I was carried into another chamber.

  Once there, they lay me on my stomach on a table cushioned with more soft and furry animal skins and two more handsome, naked, men stepped up.

  At once they poured warm scented oil onto tense muscles of my back and began a sensual massage that soon had me groaning in delight.

  Those large fingers slowly oiled every inch of my back from my neck to just below my ass and beyond. Even the cheeks of my bottom were carefully spread and generously oiled, the fingers teasing at my tight rosebud, something that made me a bit nervous. But the delicious sensations they were creating soon washed away any fears and I found myself arching into the touch.

  I moaned as they continued down my legs to my feet where each individual toe was given special attention and stroked into a blissful state of relaxation.

  Strong hands flipped me over, and the front of my body was given the same sinfully pleasurable experience, only this time they paid close attention to my breasts. Each was teased and tormented, the drizzling of the heated oil making my endorphins rise as my skin reacted to the almost painful change in temperatures. But their h
ands soothed away the slight sting, causing me to moan in delight even though they tortured me still. They took pains to avoid my hard and straining nipples as they rubbed that slick oil into my thirsty skin. I arched against their pleasing hands, but the two who had bathed me held me down on the table by my wrists and ankles.

  Finally, as one, they reached out and gently tugged and rolled my diamond-hard nipples between their now rough fingers. I could not hold back a cry of delight and agony as their fingers pulled and oiled my painfully erect flesh. I could feel that tingling heat rising in my body again, the promise of an orgasm, and I wanted it even more than before. Almost as soon as they started, they stopped, leaving me feeling bereft and wanting…again.

  Their hands trailed down my stomach, stopping to tease the sensitive skin of my sides, making me buck and writhe in their captive embrace. But they only gave enough sensation to raise my temperature as well as my arousal, and then they were moving downward, continually downward, playing my body like a fine instrument.

  Their skilled fingers reached the top of my mound, their fingers oiling my pubic hair, tugging and teasing.

  I was soon writhing in ecstasy as my human bindings spread my legs and drizzled a trail of hot oil across my lower lips. The sensation from the heat was so incredible, and almost too good to be true. Who knew that something this strange could feel so wonderful?

  And following each trail of oil, those wicked fingers worked their magic on my body, pressing hard enough to stimulate the whole area, tearing groans from my throat and making me feel empty and needy.

  Then the oiled fingers of my masseuses touched my core. Those hot fingers parted my nether lips while a stream of that hot oil was poured directly onto my clit. I cried and fought against my captors, only to be held still as my tormentors continued dispensing this spectacular, undeniable pleasure.

  Red-hot flames clouded my vision as my body twisted in unholy delight. The oil held its heat, clung to the delicate flesh of my clitoris, spurred me on to heights I had never felt before and swore were almost too painful to bear.

 

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