Dark Obsessions Vol II

by Thompson, Claire

  He wanted to hear her come, and so he unbuckled and removed the penis gag. She gasped for breath as he wiped away the drool from her chin. Again positioning the phallus at her cunt, he pushed it deep inside her in one, smooth thrust.

  Alana moaned, a low guttural sound, and he could feel the clench of her vaginal muscles against the invading object. He allowed it to slide out several inches and then thrust it back, pressing even deeper this time. She groaned, a small shudder moving through her taut frame.

  Excited, he began to fuck her with the rubber cock, moving in and out of her slick embrace until she was panting, her lips parted and glistening. Clearly there was pleasure here. Now he just needed to add some pain.

  “Remember,” he murmured, as he withdrew the shaft with a soft popping sound and placed it on the supply table. “With the pleasure, must come the pain. The two are inextricably bound for you, my love. You serve me through their combination.”

  Her eyes opened wide, fear replacing the pleasure that had suffused her face a moment before.

  His cock throbbing, Mark reached for the nipple clamps. Grabbing one perfect gumdrop nipple, he twisted and rolled it between his forefinger and thumb and then pulled it taut. Pressing open one of the clamps, he let it close against the base of her nipple.

  Predictably, Alana screamed.

  He did the same with the other nipple, drawing another cry from his girl. He took a step back to admire his handiwork. The clamp chain hung prettily between her high, round breasts.

  Alana was breathing very fast, to the point of hyperventilating. Cupping his hand gently over her mouth and nose, Mark said soothingly, “Slow down your breathing. Take it easy. Your body will adjust to the tension. You’ve taken much worse than this, my brave darling.”

  Removing his hand, he smoothed her wild hair from her face as her breathing slowly eased to something approaching normal.

  He picked up the rubber cock and squirted a touch more lube over its crown. Positioning himself again in front of her, he stroked her labia and clit with the fat head until she began to breathe more deeply, a sure sign of her arousal. Satisfied, he slowly pushed the dildo inside her.

  As he began to fuck her with the phallus, her breath quickened, her hips moving in time with the thrusts. He loved watching the chain jiggle between her clamped nipples as he fucked her, hard and fast now, with the faux cock.

  “Oh, god,” she finally moaned, her body trembling.

  “Don’t forget,” he warned her.

  “May I—” She couldn’t seem to get the words out. She gasped as he relentlessly thrust the cock in and out of her slick, gaping cunt.

  “Oh, god,” she breathed again, and then, “Please. May I come…” The last word was drawn out and ended in a rising scream.

  “Yes,” he assented, his voice hoarse with lust. “Come for me, you slut.”

  Jerking hard in her restraints, the chain whipping wildly between her breasts, Alana climaxed with a long, high-pitched wail.

  Mark watched, entranced, his hand moving furiously over his own cock now, unable to hold on for another second. In less than a minute, he sent long ribbons of hot ejaculate over her belly and thighs, his pleasure yanked from his body as he groaned with deep satisfaction.

  ~*~

  Alana drifted a moment in the aftermath of the powerful climax, the endorphins from the orgasm sending waves of warm pleasure through her body. After a while, discomfort began to intrude on the pleasure. Her nipples and her arms were numb, and her ankles were chafed from the slave bracelets rubbing against the cuffs of the spreader bar. She longed to close her legs, to lie down and wrap her arms around her body as she curled into a tight, protected ball.

  She opened her eyes slowly, focusing on the tall, naked man standing in front of her, his spent cock still fisted in his hand, his blond hair flopping over his forehead and into his green-gold eyes.

  Dimly, she recalled the before time, when she’d been surrounded by friends and lovers, but she let the memories slide away. It was easier just to forget. Mark was all that existed now. He was the man, the Master, who gave her food, or withheld it. The man who would force her into the punishment cage, or take her lovingly into his bed. The man who gave her incredible sexual pleasure—pleasure she’d never known with another person—but always at a steep price.

  The bondage, clamps and the anal plug were not enough of a price for the orgasm—she knew that. For each pound of pleasure, he would exact at least two of pain. In a peculiar way, she almost looked forward to it. Because once he hurt her, then he would let her down. He would bathe her and soothe her and hold her tenderly in his arms.

  It was all so confusing, and she was tired. She longed to be released from the suspension rack, but she knew better than to ask. In order to survive, she’d learned silence and obedience in her time here. How long had it been? Days, weeks, months? She had no idea. Time had lost its meaning, reduced to small blocks of pleasure, pain, deprivation, fear, tenderness.

  So confusing…

  Give me the pain, so I can rest, she telegraphed to the Master.

  He smiled slowly, a cruel lift of sensual lips, and she knew he’d heard her silent plea. He moved behind her and tugged lightly at the nasty plug he’d shoved into her ass.

  Back in her other life, she’d never permitted anyone to touch her there—end of story. But that other life no longer existed.

  Forget it. Let it go…

  The thing had really hurt going in, especially that last flared bit, but then it had been okay. When he’d fucked her with that huge dildo, at first she’d thought he was going to split her in two, but then something wonderful had happened—the thick, hard fullness inside her had completely taken her over, pushing out all thoughts, fear and pain, replacing it with a dark, heady pleasure that produced a powerful, obliterating orgasm. That was the best—when the pleasure and the pain blocked out everything else—when she was fully in the moment, her mind blissfully shut down.

  The plug eased out of her, and Mark appeared in her peripheral vision as he dropped the offending object into a bowl, no doubt for later cleaning. The thought made her blush with humiliation and for a moment, hatred pushed its way through her consciousness, but she shook it away. Hate was too exhausting, and only made her cry with frustration and fury.

  Easier just to accept…

  Mark reappeared in front of her. He tugged lightly at the chain between her breasts, awakening the sleeping nerve endings in her numbed nipples. “These have to come off, Alana. It’s going to hurt, but only for a second.”

  Before she could react, he pressed on the sides of each clamp, releasing the tight mechanisms that held them in place.

  The pain was blinding—a white-hot explosion of agony, and Alana screamed, tears springing to her eyes.

  “Oh, poor baby. Let me distract you,” Mark said in that silky, smooth tone that was at once seductive and sadistically evil, a sure signal the “distraction” would not be a pleasant one.

  He picked up a riding crop from the umbrella stand he kept filled with crops, canes and whips, and brought it down hard against one tender nipple. Another explosion of raw pain hurtled through Alana’s frame. He struck the second nipple, and then moved behind her. With a steady slapping of leather against skin, he painted her ass and the backs of her thighs with fire until she was crying, panting and begging him to stop.

  He returned to stand in front of her and set the crop on the table nearby. Alana sagged with relief. It was nearly over.

  He took her head between his hands and kissed her, his tongue moving in slow, sensual circles in her mouth and over her lips as he gently cradled her breasts and brushed her tender nipples with his thumbs.

  Just as she was relaxing into the pleasure of his touch, he took a step back and reached for the crop once more. This time, he whipped it up sharply between her spread legs, the small square of leather making direct contact on her spread pussy.

  Alana howled with pain.

  He struck her aga
in and again, until the tortured flesh began to numb. Then it began to happen. That thing—that secret, private thing she didn’t understand, didn’t know how to bring on, but which sometimes happened just when she didn’t think she could take another stroke of pain.

  It wasn’t that he would stop what he was doing, but somehow her body began to process it differently. The pain shifted—not precisely into pleasure, but into something equally, if not more, powerful. When this happened, all panic and fear would ebb away, replaced by a deep, welcome sense of peace.

  As he continued to strike her exposed, tender cunt, the peace settled over her like a warm, blanket, and she closed her eyes and let it take her…

  “Yes, that’s it, slave girl. That’s it, my love. Surrender to the pain. Surrender to me.” His voice was muted beneath the deep, slow pulse of her blood in her ears, but she sensed the praise in his voice, and she smiled.

  The Master was pleased. That was good…

  Then she felt his fingers stroking like velvet over her bruised labia and in circles around her swollen clit. Oh god, it felt good… so good…

  “Please, Sir,” she managed to whisper. “May I come?”

  “Yes,” he consented.

  She did.

  After rest and dinner, he brought her back to the dungeon. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, his large, thick cock already bulging beneath the denim, his muscular chest bare. He pointed his finger imperiously to the floor, and Alana lowered herself to her knees.

  To her surprise, instead of telling her what he intended to do to her, he asked her. “Alana. What am I going to do to you tonight? What did I prepare you for earlier today?”

  She had to think a moment, and then she remembered—all too well. She took a deep breath and let it out. “You are going to fuck me in the ass, Sir.” Her sphincter muscles clenched and she bit her lower lip. The anal plug was one thing, but his cock was huge.

  He smiled that cruel smile that always promised pain. “That’s correct. I’m going to fuck you in that lovely, tight ass of yours. And what’s more, you are going to beg me to do it, aren’t you?”

  There was only one answer to the question that wasn’t really a question, but a command.

  Alana licked her dry lips. “Yes Sir,” she whispered, heat washing over her cheeks.

  “Do it now. Beg me.”

  Alana worried her lower lip again as she forced herself to form the words. They were just words. Just words. “Please, Sir,” she managed. “Please fuck your slave girl in the ass.”

  He smiled again, perfect white teeth in that handsome, cruel face. “It would be my pleasure, cunt.” He unzipped his fly and pushed his jeans down his muscular legs. “But first, you’ll suck my cock.”

  Alana leaned up dutifully, glad for this momentary reprieve. She had learned through daily practice to take her Master’s cock deep into her throat. Sometimes he pushed it in so deep she couldn’t breathe. He would hold her that way for ten, twenty, thirty seconds, sometimes longer. She never struggled anymore, never tried to pull away. In an odd way, she had come to welcome those little breaks from life, as she thought of them, especially when he held her so long that her mind shut itself down and she drifted…drifted…

  She was returned to reality as he pulled his cock from her mouth and said, his voice hoarse with lust, “Get down on the mat, forehead on the floor, ass in the air. Reach back and spread your cheeks. I’m going to lube your virgin hole and fuck you. You will keep your ass cheeks spread until I slap your hands away. Got it?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Alana’s heart had begun to beat too fast, a pulse ticking in her throat. She’d never, ever let any man near her ass, but then, Mark wasn’t any man. He was her Master. She had no choice…

  She positioned herself as ordered on the thick yoga mat and reached back to spread her cheeks, her face flaming. She heard him moving behind her, and a moment later, the cold shock of lubricant being smeared over her puckered hole.

  He crouched behind her. She felt his finger invade her, and then the nudge of his fat cockhead, mercifully gooey with lube.

  “Ask me to do it to you,” he ordered.

  Her voice trembling slightly, she made herself say, “Please Sir. Please fuck me in the ass.” She slowed her breathing in a conscious effort to relax and accept the cock that was going to take her one way or the other.

  He pushed lightly between her cheeks. “Beg me.”

  “Please, Sir,” she repeated, trying to put more fervor into it. Her voice came out raspy and she cleared her throat. “Please, Mark, fuck me in the ass.”

  “Do you want it, cunt?”

  No.

  “Yes. Yes, please, Sir. I want it.”

  He laughed with delight. “Then you shall have it.” He pressed harder against her asshole, pushing past the tight ring of muscle. A small, sharp burst of pain radiated through her anus, and Alana tensed, crying out.

  “Relax,” he commanded, pushing harder. He slapped her hands away. Hard fingers gripped her hips as he guided himself into her.

  “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” she moaned, jerked reflexively forward.

  His fingers dug into her hips as he continued to push himself deeper inside her. “Only because you aren’t giving yourself fully to me. You’re resisting. You begged me for this, slave girl. Now take what I give you.”

  Alana was panting, but the pain, she was forced to acknowledge, had eased somewhat, replaced by a sense of fullness that was uncomfortable, but manageable.

  “That’s right,” Mark soothed, reaching forward to stroke her hair back from her face. “Much better. I’m almost all the way in now, and it feels fucking amazing. You’re so tight, so perfect.” He thrust forward again, harder than before, and Alana grunted with the force of it.

  Then, to her surprise, he reached around her body with one hand and began to fondle her pussy with lubricated fingers. Alana focused on the pleasure, gathering it up and holding it close as he began to fuck her hard from behind.

  As he teased her, the fullness inside her ass eased into something almost pleasurable, and his fingers moving expertly over her pussy were bringing her rapidly to a climax. As her anal muscles fully relaxed, his huge cock actually felt good moving inside her. His hand at her sex felt better than good.

  “Please, Sir,” she gasped. “May I come?”

  “You may, cunt.” He continued his finger dance on her pussy, and then his hand fell away as he groaned, low and feral. He slammed into her with ferocious force, and then his body shuddered in a series of small, powerful spasms. He fell heavily against her, his weight causing her to collapse beneath him, his cock still buried deep in her ass.

  The anal virgin was a virgin no more.

  Chapter 7

  As the time passed, Alana Hunter was still occasionally in the news—a mystery disappearance, though the police still claimed to be exploring “promising leads”. She no longer existed for the outside world, but she was everything to Mark, and he gave her everything she needed.

  He was very pleased with her progress. She was a perfect slut when it came to giving head, and she had learned to take a whipping with real grace. She never asked anymore when he would let her go. She no longer begged to be set free. She dropped obediently to the floor when he touched her shoulder. She knew never to sit on the furniture. She rarely expressed any discomfort, even when he left her tightly bound for long periods of time.

  Lately, when he left the house to run errands, he enjoyed tying her to a low stool, just inside the front door with her back facing the door. She would drape herself on her stomach over the stool, legs spread wide, so when he opened the door, the first thing he saw was that gorgeous ass and spread pussy.

  Sometimes before he left, he would stick a dildo in her cunt, or an anal plug in her ass. Sometimes both. He would warn her they had better be in place when he returned or she would suffer the consequences. She usually managed to keep them in, but that afternoon when Mark returned, his arms full of groceries, he saw that th
e dildo had slipped out of her cunt onto the floor. Alana, being tied tightly by her wrists and ankles to the stool, had been powerless to retrieve it.

  “Oh dear,” he said, setting down his bags and coming to stand behind her. “My naughty slut pushed out the dildo. What happens to naughty sluts who disobey?”

  “They get punished, Sir,” she said in a small voice.

  “That’s right,” he agreed pleasantly. “Shall I cane you? Or do you want to be flogged?”

  Still bound to the stool, Alana whispered, “The flogger, please, Sir.”

  “Hmm.” He pretended to ponder, having known she would go for the less painful option. “I don’t think so. Your welts from the other day are fading. I want to see some fresh stripes on that luscious ass.”

  He selected a long, whippy cane from the umbrella stand he kept just inside the front door for precisely this purpose. He stepped around in front of the bound girl and held the cane to her lips. “Kiss it,” he commanded.

  She kissed it and then lifted her head as best as she was able. “Please, Sir. I’m sorry the dildo fell out. I tried my best, I promise. I—”

  “Your best wasn’t good enough today. I know you’re sorry, but you still have to be punished. You do want the cane, don’t you?”

  “I…” she sighed and then continued, “If it pleases you, Sir.”

  “No, I’m asking if you want it. You know you displeased your Master by failing to obey my command. You know you deserve to be punished, but do you want it? Answer yes or no.”

  He waited while she struggled for the correct response. Of course, there was only one response available to her. She was forbidden the luxury of refusal. She knew that, knew it only too well. But the cane was the one thing she had yet to fully accept. She had continued to resist him, still terrified by its wicked cut, even though he’d only drawn blood once, and that time by accident.