by Abby Angel
“Let’s go,” his words an ice-cold order. Knowing that the time is finally here sends my body into overdrive. Victor switches his grip on me so that one of his strong arms is draped over my shoulder and his hand continues to clutch my tit, which is pleasantly numb from all of the tugging.
He guides me into the bedroom. I manage to stay on my heels with only the tiniest bit of stumbling along the way.
Once we are in the bedroom Victor marches me to the end of the bed and with his grip on breast he spins me around and flings backward at the bed. My nipple snaps free from his fingers like a rubber band shot across the room. I can’t get enough of the pain he causes me. That snapping radiates through my body as I fly through the air.
I bounce on the mattress. My legs flail apart as my body succumbs to gravity and settles against the bed. While I was flying through the air Victor, always so quick when we are fucking, has found a towel and is giving his raging hard-on a quick wipe.
I keep my mouth shut as he prowls around the bed. He finds the wrist cuff in the nightstand and grabs my arm. He is lightening quick in attaching the cuff to my wrist and then to the rope with a clip that is tied to the headboard. He is like a panther stalking its prey as he slowly moves around the bed. His icy stare always on me.
In no time at all my other hand is cuffed and tied. Victor resumes his slow circuit of the bed stopping at the center of the footboard. I watch him through my splayed knees. Victor bends over and grabs my hips. He drags my body toward him stretching my arms out.
Dropping me back onto the mattress he slowly paces around the bed back to the nightstand from which he retrieves the ball-gag.
“This is going to hurt,” his steely voice echoes in my ears as I lift my head to accept the gag. “I don’t care. I am going to destroy your innocence. I don’t want to hear your little moans and whines. You are mine now and if I want to rip open your pussy, which I do, then I am going to do it.” He finished buckling the strap at the same time his sentence ends.
Again this idea of him owning me is mind-bending. I know that it is going to hurt when he breaks through my virginity but my body responds viscerally to the concept that I am his property. Knowing that he is going to use me for his own desires speaks to me in a way that nothing ever has. I have a base urge, no, need to satisfy him in any way he wants.
I prepare myself. taking deep breaths through my nose. I keep my eyes pinned on him as he slowly mounts the bed and positions himself between my knees. He is still to far away from me to push his cock into me when he pauses. I keep breathing and watching as he lowers he head and drags his tongue through the folds of my pussy.
“Mmmmm, fresh pussy. Your cunt is never going to taste like this again. There is something so unique about unbroken pussy. Too bad this is the last time you will ever test like this.” He plunges down for another lick. I can’t stop my hips from writhing around. I am searching for his tongue. I am trying to get more of his attention centered on the spots of folds that need to licked. I feel him chuckle through the lips of my pussy as I search for just the right touch. He is entertained by my need.
Victor lifts his head and crawls closer to be before lifting his body. The effect is that my knees are instantly draped over his shoulders. His hand take hold of my hips and his fingers dig into my flesh. The stinging sensation just enough to keep my senses keen. Victor flexes his back and his arms so that I am lifted off the bed. My arms instantly ache as my weight is suspended on my shoulders and wrists. All those time sitting at the bar with him and our fries did I suspect that Victor would be this sadistic in bed and not once did it ever occur to me that I may like sadism in a man, but I can’t find anything but pleasure in the pain he causes me. I am ready.
“You are a dirty little whore, aren’t you?” Victor’s question seems rhetorical so I don’t respond. “Only dirty little whores are willing to sell their bodies and that is what you tried to do tonight, isn’t it?” Again, I think he his being rhetorical. “Answer me, bitch or you will stay a virgin. A virgin whore that can’t give away her first time.”
I nod my head vigorously and try to speak an answer. I want to agree. I want to be a whore. A whore for Victor. If he wants a dirty little slut I want that dirty little slut to be me. I hear the sounds coming out of me around the ball-gag, “Hurumph ming lattugh,” I respond desperately hoping he understands the garbled pleas.
“You can be anything you want to the world but you will always know, deep in your heart, that you are a filthy dirty little whore, but you take pride in the fact that you are my dirty little whore.”
I have no idea where this line of bedroom talk is coming from. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. Victor knows me so well. Somehow without any type of discussion he know exactly what I want of him in the bedroom and when we are fucking he pulls out every stop to show me he is perfectly in tune with my inner needs.
Being suspended like this with my legs open I can feel my thighs cooling as my own cum dries on my skin. Everything is so new and exciting I don’t how I am taking it all in. Victor’s naughty words the air on my skin, the ache of my body. My mind is an overload of stimuli.
“Now I get what is mine,” Victor’s steely voice echoes through my ears and I feel him enter me. His cock pierces my virginity and there is pain. A tearing, searing pain that envelops my mind. My head flops back as I try to comprehend what is happening to me. Tears run down my cheeks as my body rocks back and forth. Victor means it when he says he doesn’t care about my pain. I am consumed by this new pain because it is not the kind of pain I had come to enjoy from Victor. This is serious pain that is…Gone?!?
I was trying to focus on what was happening to me and now it is not there. Just a fading echo of a memory of what might have been pain. How can this happen? What the hell is going on. I am certain that Victor was tearing me in two. That I was experiencing something other than pleasure from this man and then nothing. This man is a fucking GOD!
My knees flex to secure my hold on his shoulders as he rocks back and forth pulling his cock out of me and pushing it back into me. His cock fills me completely. He is touching my inside all at the same time. His skin against mine, building a need inside me that is growing rapidly and I know that I will not deny it when it finally reaches full strength.
“That fucking pussy is so amazing. God you are so fucking tight. I would have paid full price or double for this tiny cunt.”
He is pleased. I am pleasing him!!
One more time my body erupts. It is like my mind shatters and reassembles the little pieces in a flash. The mental show was disorienting of its own right but adding in my physical reaction and i am on a totally different cosmic plain.
Mid-orgasm and Victor pushes me away from him flinging my body onto the bed. My body bounces and i miss him being inside me already. My arms, on the other hand, are grateful for the rest. I don’t have time to recover my bearing before Victor is rolling me over. The slack in the ropes holding my wrists allow the two cords to cross over each other. Still dazed i don’t resist when he grabs my hips and lifts me onto my knees.
Victor’s fingers dig into my hips seeming to find the same place he has been gripping. The outsides of his knees knock against the insides of my knees and my legs spread. My body is still quivering from my floating orgasm when he slams his cock deep into my pussy. His return is wonderful. The empty void that had been left by his exit was nagging to be filled. the notion of not having him in me was threatening to take over the majority of my thoughts, but he is filling me again.
I feel my moan hit the rubber ball in my mouth. it is like the sound is clogging my mouth. Vibration straining to be released like water against a dam.
Victor must be in his own zone because his cock bottoms out hitting the back wall of my pussy just briefly before he is pulling out. When he had been fucking me in mid-aid his strokes had been short and rapid but now he is pulling nearly all twelve inches out slowly before slamming back into me. the lurching of my body is making me dizzy.
“You are almost fully a woman,” he growls as I feel him pause long enough to gather a handful of my hair. He is not clutching near the scalp this time. Instead he has found the ends and I feel his hand twist getting a solid hold of me.
I try to yell in pure pleasure again when he yanks back on my hair and his cock plunges into me once again. But the sound stalls against the gag.
Victor picks up the pace. Still pulling the majority of his length out of me and then cramming it back into but there is no slow retreat. He is pulling back as fast as he is pushing forward.
The sounds trying to leave my blocked mouth are piling up behind the ball-gag as each of his thrusts cause me to gasp, scream or moan. This feels so fucking amazing. One part of me is wondering why I waited so long to be fucked like this and another part of me is arguing that if I had waited I would not have experiences something so amazing.
Victor is not letting up, in fact, his pace and fierceness is increasing. His grunts are primal and quick. I know he is getting close.
My mind takes a quick self-inventory and I realize that I am also getting close. I wish I had kept count but when you are experiencing this kind of joy mental activities like counting or remembering your own name are extremely difficult.
I am just a second behind Victor. I feel the shaft of his cock pulse and I realize that he is cuming. He is filling me with his seed and my body responds with yet another orgasm. My elbows lock as I push hard against him. Victor is holding my body pinned to his as he unloads. My head flops back and I try to unleash a scream just as Victor yells. his cock pulses again. My back bows and my head tilts back. Another pulse. Victor releases my hair and grabs my other hip. One more pulse. I feel the semen travel through his shaft and then I feel full.
Victor shoves me forward and I collapse in a heap on the bed. I feel his weight hit the mattress.
My eyes flutter shut and blissful oblivion falls over me like a warm blanket.
Vivian
“Babe!” Victor yells from the bedroom! “Where did you put my socks?”
I roll my eyes.
“Which ones?” I ask.
“The blue ones that Apollo and Ashley gave me for our one month anniversary.”
He’s going to so punish me when I tell him. I open my mouth and say, “I gave it to Goodwill!”
I actually have them hidden in my lingerie closet. But I want to push his buttons lately.
It’s been six months since Victor sold me and then bought me on The Virgin Market. Six of the happiest months in my life. We have a life together that some people won’t understand, but to us it feels perfectly happy and reasonable.
“You gave it away?!” he yells, coming out.
I’m smirking.
“You gonna punish me?” I ask, winking at him.
He looks at me. I can see realization go through his eyes. This is all a ruse.
“I also gave away your good ties,” I say, turning around and shaking my ass at him. I’m hoping the combination of wiggling ass and me being naughty will do the trick.
“Come here,” Victor says in a husky voice and grabs me. I squeal in delight, my clit already twitching at what is going to come.
God, how I love the games we play.
Victor runs his hands over my ass, squeezing my cheek.
It’s pretty much been like this from the day that we realized we loved each other.
But the best part about it?
Is that there is so much more to come.
Introducing Something New!
This exclusive short story appeared in Mr. President once before, but has been re-imagined for placement here in Abby Angel. I give you:
Adrienne & Reese from Stories From The 6 Train by Alexis Angel (Never Before Published. Exclusive Content)
Blaze & Ginger from Stories From The 6 Train by Alexis Angel (Never Before Published. Exclusive Content)
Sharing Seymours - a short story
Our goal in this is simple.
To entertain you as long as we can to give you the best customer experience with the words that we hold so dear. Because while we may be in various corners of the world, the fact that we are sharing these brings us closer together we feel.
Thank you so much for reading!
xoxo
Alexis Angel
Stories From The 6 Train: Adrienne & Reese
By Alexis Angel
Adrienne
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
I practically snarl the words over my shoulder as I elbow my way past the sweaty, greasy man in front of me. My new—and now equally greasy—red Louboutins hit the platform at the bottom of the stairs leading into the Thirty-third Street station, and I keep up my pace, not bothering to listen to the offensive words spewing from his mouth.
I don’t have time for this. My boss already kept me late in the office going over my new position as an executive marketing consultant at Dover Street Market. Normally something I’d be totally cool with. But today I have an appointment to view a new apartment and I cannot be late. It’s a good one, guaranteed to be snatched up if I miss my appointment. And with my current lease ending in a matter of days, I need to grab it fast.
I swipe my metro pass through the turnstile and break into a run—not an easy task in my impractical and now filthy designer heels. A stream of people is already pouring onto the 6 Train. I manage to slip through the doors just before they slide closed and slump against the edge of the seat next to me.
“Well, that’s just perfect,” I mutter, bending down and examining my shoes. Mr. Greasy McNasty left a huge scuff on them in addition to the grease marks. I want to be charitable and accept that it was just an accident, that anyone could have lost their balance and almost knocked me down the stairs in the crowded rush hour terminal. But then I notice that he somehow snagged my thigh-high silk stockings. There’s a giant rip going all the way from my ankle up past the hem of my pencil skirt. How the hell?
I stick my leg out as far as I can on the crowded train and trail my finger up the tear, lifting my skirt to see just how bad the damage is.
Dammit! All the way to the top where my garter belt is clipped onto it. This is how I’m going to arrive to try to score one of the best apartment deals on the Upper East Side that I’ve ever seen—Adrienne Rhodes, a complete and utter hot mess.
Not if I can help it!
Knowing this is the only chance I’ll get to undo some of the damage, I turn back toward the door and reach up my skirt and unfasten the clips on my right thigh. I glance furtively around, hoping no one is paying attention. Yeah, I’m on a crowded public train with my hand up my skirt, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do when a killer apartment is on the line.
I slide the stocking down my leg and slip my foot from my damaged shoe, pulling the tattered silk off and stuffing it in my Prada bag. Just as I start to slide my shoe back on, the train jerks to a stop at Grand Central, throwing my already precarious balance way off. I grab for the pole next to me, but it’s too late.
I’m falling.
I’m about to land on my ass on the floor of a subway train. As if I don’t already have enough ruined clothing for one day.
Realizing there’s not a damn thing I can do about it, I close my eyes and brace for the impact. But then they fly wide open.
Big hands grasp my hips, and I find myself shifting in a new direction, the impact of my fall broken by a lap that is suddenly right under my ass. A very hard, very erect lap.
My breath whooshes from my lungs in a gasp that is half shock, half lust. A gasp that sounds suspiciously like a moan. Because oh my god, I am totally sitting on some random stranger’s raging hard-on. And if feels really damn good.
The people around us move, some getting off the train, some shifting to make room for new passengers.
The hands on my hips clench as the train moves again, fingers digging into me, and I’m mortified to find myself wriggling, some naughty part of me hoping I might move just the right w
ay to relieve some of the sudden pressure that’s quickly building between my legs.
“You okay?” The deep, gravelly voice should pull me to my senses, but instead the sexy rasp only makes me wetter than I already am.
Pull it together, Adrienne. Am I really getting off to some guy I haven’t even seen? Almost as if my body has a mind of its own, I twist slightly on his lap, the movement making my breath come faster as it pushes me harder against his dick.
Then my eyes lock on his, dark, depthless and smoldering.
Oh my god. It’s him.
“Hey,” I say breathlessly, unable to move. Unable to think.
Because it’s my train guy. The guy I’ve been eye-fucking for the past two months on my ride home after work.
“Need some help?” he says, a smirk on his full lips that makes me want to dive in and suck them right into my mouth, bite down hard and then lick them better.
“What?” I shake my head, not comprehending his words. Nothing making sense past the sudden throbbing in my pussy.
He leans down and grabs my forgotten shoe, sliding it slowly onto my foot. His eyes never leave mine as he trails his fingers up my bare leg.
I swallow hard, wondering if I’m dreaming. Because every late-night fantasy I’ve had lately stars this guy right here. This dark-haired mystery guy that I see on the train two or three times a week, his stubbled jaw inciting thoughts of what it might feel like scraping against my thighs as he licks me to orgasm.
Oh yeah, I’m totally dreaming. Because when his hand reaches the bottom of my thigh, it travels over to the other leg to continue its journey upward. His eyes go impossibly darker before they drop down, and I follow his gaze.
