by Adira August
The angle of her spread legs soon slowed their descent. He gave a last strong pull. She felt the elastic cut into her flesh at mid-thigh, and he stopped.
Again she felt the cool room air drift over her hot, wet vulva. She tensed, waiting for him. For fingers - a palm - his tongue - something. But he did nothing but run his eyes up and down her body, considering.
There had been enough stimulation of her nipples to keep her distracted as he slid the soaking yoke of her panties aside. He was sure she wasn’t even aware he’d done it. Her face screwed up in concentration, he imagined she was trying to find a way to control herself that left “submit” out of her process. They all did, at first.
He’d learned a lot already about her responsiveness, the sensitivity of her breasts, the strong connection with her pelvic nerves. Now, he needed to follow the body and lines of her clitoris and see how extensive the organ was and where it lay, close to the surface or further in? Extending to her vagina or stopping short? Every woman was different.
He reached between her spread legs and placed two fingers directly on her vaginal opening. She was hot, wet and swollen. Curling his fingers so his nails would excite nerve endings along the sensitive border of her pubic hair and the inner tissue of her labia, he brought both fingers smoothly forward, pressing very gently, careful to avoid her clit.
“Oh, fuck!”
He easily made out the words through the gag. And while her incredible responsiveness continued to please him, her reaction only made his already hard cock, ache and throb. Concentrate.
He needed to make sure she didn’t come during the datamine. He would control her orgasm, if he decided to give her one.
Now he gently worked the pads of his fingers up into her tissues, to put pressure on her internal bulbs, enlarged and firm with her arousal. As he slid slowly back toward her core, she started a very useful series of panted “ahs.” He thought he could count on the cessation of them to map the terminus of her clitoral wings.
He got all the way to her vestibule and they did not stop.
All the way home, he thought elatedly. She was one of a minority of women whose clitoral wings reached around their vagina and whose bulbs formed part of the front wall. The organ, swollen when aroused, tightened the entrance. Knowledgeable fingers or a hard cock head could bring her to orgasm through vaginal stimulation alone.
She slumped, muscles slack from stimulation. He had to confirm.
He pushed her blouse off her shoulders with his other hand and took one firm, distended nipple between his thumb and middle finger. She moaned deep in her throat. He tightened and loosened. Again. Again. He rolled her nipple slightly while he slipped a single finger into her vagina. Her moaning became harsh, guttural exhalations around the gag as she panted.
Avia’s hot, slick cunt clenched around his finger. “Please, oh, please …” he heard through the gag. He wasn’t sure she knew she’d spoken aloud.
He lowered his head and sucked her nipple hard, his teeth scraping.
She gasped, which expanded her chest, pushing her breast more firmly against him, and immediately tried to pull away, but the metal brace left her no retreat. He reached into his pocket for the small remote for the prototype and pressed a button. He kept up the strong pulls and rubbed the center of his tongue across the nerve-laden tip and as the circular section of the base on which she stood rose smoothly.
I have got to give Ernestine a raise. She’d insisted the section lift, instead of build-in some kind of seat that would swing out. And she’d been right.
Avia was a tall woman, five feet eight. The lift brought her breasts almost level with his mouth. He didn’t have to lean forward awkwardly as he would in a seat. He was upright, the full length of his body so close to hers, he would press against her if he so much as breathed deeply. If he simply unzipped, he could shove his aching cock into her molten center right now, fuck her hard, standing up. But this was not the time for that.
He moved his lips to the other nipple, fingers of his left hand taking over the one he abandoned. Avia gasped through her gag. Keening. She tried to pull back, to escape the torture of having both nipples stimulated so strongly at the same time. But there was nowhere to go but forward. Into his mouth. Into his fingers.
Four more strokes. But she would never feel them.
He pulled out of her and then sank three fingers back into her tight, swollen opening, spreading and rotating them. Avia cried out. He made out the a words even through the gag: Oh godohgod, oh my god!
Her cunt clenched around his spread fingers with each twist and push. The muscles in her thighs tightened.
He pulled out and away before he made her come and she moaned a protest. Her legs were rock hard from the tension. But he’d learned what he needed to. And so had she.
Ben stepped down from the platform and circled her. He was used to having and ignoring a throbbing erection at this point. But he’d never had this woman in The Stand.
He wasn’t used to the sight of this woman, restrained while fully upright. Skirt hiked up. Panties halfway down her thighs. Heaving breasts, nipples hardened by his own lips. It caused a hot wire of need to tighten so viciously around his balls, he wondered if they’d be severed from his body.
He took a moment to gaze out at the sunlit terrace and mountains beyond. He thought of wading into a cold glacier-fed stream to fish. The feeling subsided somewhat. The erection did not. That he could deal with later.
For now, he had a fine woman who’d given him total control of her body. He had to take care of her. And gather one last piece of data. He used the remote to lower her until she was at his height. Her pelvis slightly above his own.
He moved behind her, lifted up her skirt, exposing her bare bottom. The promise of the west wind fulfilled. A glorious heart-shaped ass swelled above her thighs. Firm and rounded. Sloping abruptly into an enticing darkness.
The elastic of her garters pressed into her soft flesh. He slid his index fingers under each, stroking up and down. He thumbed open the fasteners and tucked them up, out of the way. He would feel every inch of her, unimpeded.
He had already determined the wings of her clitoris extended around her vagina. Now, he needed to know if the network of nerves that spread over and into buttocks, upper thighs and her sex, created a strong feedback loop between her clit and her anus. It was common, but not universal.
If not, it wasn’t a deal-breaker. But if so, it would make bringing her to ecstasy much easier. And it would make the spanking he planned for her, that much more exquisitely arousing. And fucking her afterward ... Don’t go there, he warned himself, a gush of pre-cum soaking his boxers.
Positioning himself close to her, he skimmed the palms of his hands over both cheeks, appreciating the smooth, warm, surface of her skin. His long fingers squeezed and kneaded her. Explored her. Soothed her. Her panting slowed. Her shoulders relaxed.
He reached down to the tops of her thighs, hands circling as much of her firm flesh as possible, stroking up and down the backs. Pressing more firmly, he slid his hands up, lifted the globes of her ass, fingers following the crease between buttocks and legs.
He knew her cheeks would stay relaxed. He’d had The Stand designed that way. When the device spread her legs apart, it turned her toes in, kept her legs straight. This assured she was powerless to clench the strong gluteal muscles against anything he chose to do.
He took a step to her left side, sliding his right hand along her lower back to rest on her sacrum, just above the cleft of her ass, fingers pointing down. He moved his left hand back to her breasts, unfolding the cups of her bra, slipping them back into place.
He began fondling her breasts, one and then the other, through her bra cups, avoiding her nipples. Massaging, relaxing her. It was a distraction technique.
He didn’t want her focused on what was going on behind her. He needed her next wave of arousal to come from the physical actions he was about to take. Not from anything she was thinking, imagining,
anticipating. His hand on her breasts should be pleasant, but not overly stimulating to her.
He kept her that way until her legs relaxed, her breathing normalized and her arms took back her weight.
Then, with one sure motion, he slid his right hand hand down, between her cheeks, spreading her slightly. His middle finger seeking deep in her cleft until the pad of his finger found the hot ring of her anus. And pressed.
She gasped and jerked away. Her hips were the least controlled, and he followed the expected movement, his left hand leaving her breasts, his palm pressed firmly against her pubic mound, keeping her still, his finger still firmly against her sphincter. He gently pressed the tight ring.
A furious line of fiery red swept up her chest and neck and over her face. As the humiliation flush spread, her sphincter heated and pulsed against the tip of his finger. The cleft of her ass became damp. He felt the quiver as she tried to clench her muscles against him, and could not. She turned away, as far as possible, into the padded head support.
Ben Hart knew experiencing this level of helpless exposure and humiliation was a powerful aphrodisiac and he learned several things in those moments. That she was an anal virgin and had probably never participated in any form of anal play. And that her deep humiliation was as much a response to how arousing she found his touch, as it was to the fact of it.
He hardened his voice, to help her feel his authority, to strengthen her.
“You will hold perfectly still. Perfectly. Still. Do you understand?” He bit the words off. She nodded.
He moved his left hand to her pussy, avoiding her erect clit, the moist, pink face of which was visible between the protruding folds of her inner labia. He slipped one finger again into her vagina, holding still. Waiting for her to calm.
When she had, he slowly massaged her anus with the pad of his finger in a firm, circular motion. He could hear her panting quietly, something that sounded like “nonononono” behind her gag.
But he also felt her press back, very slightly undulating, onto his finger. The body betrays us, he thought.
With a steady and very deliberate movement, willing her to feel every millimeter, he pushed his middle finger into her, up to the first joint.
“Ah - fuck -” she gasped, her hips moved slightly. He moved with her.
“Be still,” he ordered.
Now, he had the fingers of both hands seated. He kept the one in her vagina very still while he moved the other in and out, gently but firmly fucking her ass with just the tip. Her sphincter clamped down, though her buttocks stayed soft.
“Relax,” he ordered coldly. She panted, resisting.
“Submit,” he snarled at her. A brief choked whimper. Her sphincter let go.
He circled his fingertip around and around … rubbing the pad sideways, back and forth, against the interior of the muscle - her vagina spasmed. Yes!
He kneaded her ass, his finger slipping in and out, deeper, faster. Her cunt clenched again and again, trying to pull his hand inside. Or my cock.
He released her. He had his answers.
And she deserved her reward. He leaned into her, so she would feel the strength and heat of the length of his body against the side of her own. He spoke close to her ear in a low, intimate baritone. Wanting to comfort her. Reassure her.
“We’re finished, Avia. Well done.” He told her. “But you’re very aroused now. So before I release you, I’m going to make you come.”
ORDEAL AND SURRENDER
That son of a bitch! Will I survive an orgasm?
She couldn’t believe what he’d done to her, what he’d forced her to feel. And now her body was raging at her for release.
She could do nothing to help herself. Her legs spread wide, her throbbing clit begging for pressure, her cunt aching, the deep pain that wasn’t pain. A hungry fire spread along her vulva, up through her core so even her womb was aching.
Son of a bitch. She needed him now and hated him for that. And for his calm, objective self-control. His detachment as he manipulated her, assessed her. Gathered his data.
Then he was back. This is what he does, she thought, he lets you start to come down and then winds you up again. And the worst part was that her body would inevitably cooperate, singing at his touch, grateful for his skill - his -
Oh, fuck!
His hand was back on her ass. Spreading her cheeks with surety and deliberation. That finger … was that lubricant? Oh no no no no - not - not all the way - oh please don’t - bastard, motherfucking bastard! … so … no! … oh God, he’s in me ... so far …
With his other hand, one finger found the space between her cunt and her clit, pressing, sliding forward, slowly ... slowly ... yes ... oh, yes…
All Ben’s concentration was focused on one thing, moving his left middle finger into position, without touching her clit. He kept her hips still with his right hand spread out, grasping the globes of her ass, his right middle finger thrust deeply inside her. He needed her to be still, one sharp move of her pelvis and she’d orgasm much too quickly. He needed to give her this …
...there.
The tip of his finger, deep in her soaking engorged tissues, touched the erect stem of her clitoris. He froze, so, so carefully moving his other fingers into position, spreading her labia, his ring finger joined his middle, curling at an angle to avoid the highly sensitive head, the place she wanted more than anything at that moment, for him to put pressure.
Both fingertips in position, a bare millimeter apart, he began stroking her stem, stopping a breath away from the swollen bud of the glans and moving back down into her hot folds.
Again and again, a few millimeters a stroke, he jacked her. His fingers pressing a little harder, squeezing just a little tighter on each pulse.
Eight thousand nerve fibers ran through the burning stalk to the head of her clitoris. His two fingertips stimulating a few thousand of them with every pulse. And they, in turn, all the others.
Avia uttered a guttural, garbled howl. NOnononofuckfuckopleasepleaseoplease … Her body taught, covered in a sheen of perspiration. Shaking her head violently back and forth.
Ben pushed his body hard into her side. He put his face against hers and forced her into the padded support, keeping her motionless, his words loud enough to be heard over her litany of need.
“Feel it.” His commanded her. He eased his finger from her rectum to the first knuckle and pushed back into her, as far as he could. He continued the relentless slow pistoning that matched the rhythm of the fingers against her clit.
“Feel me inside you, Avia. You cannot escape it. As deep as I want. Wherever I want. As long as I want. Stroking you. Fucking you. Feel me.”
The muffled, garbled words stopped. Her jaw dropped, her mouth opened wide around the gag. Her sphincter went totally slack and the harsh sound of her panting quieted. Her body relaxed.
Now.
He thrust hard into her ass, squeezing her cheeks tightly, while his left thumb and forefinger brought her engorged labia together over her glans and pulsed all four fingers, pressing the slick folds firmly over the head of her erect clit. Once ... Twice ... Three -
The orgasm hit her like a grand mal seizure. He leaned against her even harder, but there was no way to stop the involuntary bucking of her hips, forward and back, against one hand and then the other, again and again her body fucked itself on his long, strong, fingers.
The sound from her throat was feral, high-pitched, ululating. Her anus pulsed violently, then clenched viselike around his finger, until he felt the digit going numb and still she came - the waves of energy rolling through her - on - on -
Ben knew how to extend her orgasm beyond the minute she’d already been at the mercy of her spasming body, but this was not the time for that. As he eased his finger out of her ass, she gave a sharp cry at the additional spike of stimulation. He flattened his palm against her pussy, riding her spasms, but not encouraging more.
Finding the small remote in his pocket, he hit
the termination button. Everything released. Avia collapsed onto him.
He slid his left arm around her thighs and his right around her back, holding her to himself. He carried her, still shuddering in the throes of her orgasm. Settling her in the recliner, he levered it back to a prone position. Finally, he gently worked the gag from her mouth.
He took a slender, rectangular chemical cold pack from a bin and shook it to activate it. Wrapped it in a small towel from the same bin, to ameliorate the coldness.
He returned to her and pushed her thighs apart gently. She moaned a protest.
“It’s alright.” He said quietly. “This is going to help the blood move out, calm things down.” He placed the cool pack along her vulva and pressed her thighs together.
Her eyes were closed, her mouth half open. She was still deeply immersed in her experience. He spoke quietly to her.
“You did beautifully, Avia. You’re safe here. Alone. Locked in. No one will disturb you. I’ll be in the next room. I’ll be back in twenty minutes and we’ll talk.”
And he left her there, for the prospect of a handful of lube and a warm towel.
But Ben Hart was happy. She was, in a word, magnificent.
Avia leaned against the balustrade, considering the height of the sun above the mountains. What time had she arrived? Ten-thirty, the appointment had been for. Could it really only be three? The sun looked like three.
She felt like she’d been in this place for days.
Avia could have taken her cell out of her pocket and checked the time, but it seemed like a lot of trouble.
He’ll be here soon. At least, it felt like twenty minutes to her. I could just leave.
But that seemed like even more trouble. She felt … electrocuted. Like she’d had a huge shock and someone should tuck her into a hospital bed and sedate her and let her sleep for days until she was back to ... what, Avia? What do you want to get back to? Normal?
She felt like she didn’t know much of anything, anymore. But there was one thing she was sure of. Whoever she’d been when she walked down that long hall, she’d never be again.
