The Personal Trainer (closed thread)

[Cherrie]

He said it so matter of fact, so calmly and collective… As though, what he had just done to her was the most natural thing in the world. He had soddemized her, bent her over the desk…in her own office, and brutally taken what he wanted, and then with no apology, or even a thank you, just casually strolled out. She felt the anger building up inside her…wanted to pick up the glass ashtray from her desk, and hurl it at the back of his head as she watched him retreating through the door. Her anger and confusion causing small tears to well up in the corner of her eyes, and then spill themselves in huge droplets, down her cheeks.

Adjusting her clothing, she sat down behind her desk, placed her head between her hands and cried, something she had not done since she was a child. The utter shame she felt at his degradation of her body, threatening to overwhelm her! Most of the anger, aimed towards herself, for allowing him to demean her so viciously… so cruelly, but for the most part…because she had found that she had enjoyed it.

“Oh what is happening to me?” she sobbed, silently into her palms.

Her thoughts raced back and forth within her head: A battle between good and evil. One side of her reasoning that she should just forget him, tell him the deal was off…tell him to politely Fuck off and leave her alone. The other delighted at the feelings he had invoked within her…new sensuous feelings…wicked feelings. Feelings that she wanted to share with the rest of the world, but knew she never could. He had awoken a sleeping vampire, a deep hunger that she had always denied herself, and although still ashamed to admit it, the vampire in her soul was still hungry…and craved feeding.

It took several minutes before she found her composure, the businesswoman in her once again returning. She wiped away the dried tears from her cheeks and tided herself up as best she could. Her mind still in a whirl, she then set about hiding all the discriminating evidence. Picking up her torn panties, which still lay in the center of the room where he had thrown them, she hoisted up the back of her skirt, and gently wiped between her buttocks, wincing as she felt the sharp stinging sensation from around her anus. This done, she carefully stuffed them into the bottom of her waste bin, taking care to cover them properly.

“ Lost something?” announced a voice from the doorway.

Alarmed, she looked up to see Armstrong, a smug grin on his face, standing there watching her.

“Err. No. I thought I’d thrown something away by mistake, but I remember now where I’ve put it,” she lied, hoping that the blush wasn’t showing on her face. Then as an after thought added, “How long have you been standing there? I didn’t hear you knock.”

“Long enough,” he grinned again.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“ Look Susan, what you get up to in your own office is entirely your own business. I’ve just brought you the Mc Kenna file you’ve been nagging me for days for,” he replied, nonchalantly handing her the buff colored file.

“Oh! The file…yes I’d forgotten about that.”

She could feel herself beginning to shake with embarrassment, now certain that he had seen her stuff the panties into the waste bin. Her mind raced for an excuse…any excuse, but then a strange wickedness suddenly crept over her. ‘What if he had,’ she thought. ‘Like he said…it was none of his business.’

“Is it hot today Jack…or is it just me?” she casually remarked, as she returned to her seat behind the desk. She could feel his eyes scanning her legs as she sat down and slowly crossed her legs, revealing a quick glimpse of her stocking tops. “It makes me feel so horny. Do you ever get hot…and horny Jack?”

She could see the redness beginning to well up in his cheeks. ‘So he’s not as cock sure as he thinks he is’ she mused as she continued.

“Sometimes, a girl has needs Jack… Yes even a girl like me. What is it that they all call me around here…ah yes…Miss Icy Drawers? Well not today Jack…not today. Today is special Jack…today there’s no ice…and certainly no drawers!”

It took most of her self-control to suppress the schoolgirl giggles that were threatening to burst out as she teased him. She watched the embarrassment in his face; saw the erection that was beginning to grow inside his pants, and reveled at his discomfort.

“Look Sus…Susan,” he stammered nervously, “I don’t know what’s going on, and quite frankly I don’t care. I’ve just done what was asked of me…brought you the file that’s all.”

‘Oh Jack! Don’t spoil it; don’t spoil the mood…not now. What is a girl to do, eh Jack? I can see you’re interested.”

She smiled at him mischievously, watching him as he glanced down at the bulge that was pressing out the front of his trousers. It gave her a sense of elation, to at last, hold this little cocksuckers balls in her hand, and slowly begin to squeeze them. Like a cat that had toyed with the mouse too long, she parried herself ready for the kill.

“Why don’t you show me Jack…show me how interested you are. Go on Jack…take it out, show me.”

“Susan, I…I…”

He couldn’t find the words. For the first time in his life he suddenly found himself speechless. Oh he knew he fancied her…fancied her like crazy. He also knew, that from the first day she had started working here, that it would only be a matter of time before he’d have his hands in her pants, and here was the opportunity given to him on a plate.

Feeling in no doubt, that this woman would now become yet another notch on his belt, he slowly unzipped the front of his trousers and held his erection in his hand before her.

“Is this what you want Susan?” he asked confidently, knowing that she would hardly be able to control herself. After all what woman could?

Susan could hardly believe her luck. It had been way too easy. She had simply cast out the bait and this…this little ‘fuck turd’ had swallowed the bait, hook, line and sinker.

“Mmm,” she mused, placing her elbows onto the desk and resting her head on the back of her hands.

“You know Jack,” she smiled sarcastically, steeling herself like a bullfighter about to deliver the killing blow. “If that thing was two inches bigger, you’d get away with calling it a penis! Now if you are any good at fucking Jack…and I believe from what you’ve told me in the past…that you are. Then I suggest that you fuck off and leave me alone, and leave any thoughts about what you’ve seen…or think you’ve seen here in my office.”

Armstrong’s whole world came crashing down around his ears. He stood there, mouthing words that wouldn’t come, his whole demeanor changing to that of a goldfish that had just jumped out from it’s bowl. ‘I should have known that this…this bitch of a woman had been playing me like a well-tuned fiddle!’ he quietly ranted to himself, as he stormed out of the office zipping up his flies.

Susan felt euphoric at the way she had put Armstrong in his place: A feeling that stayed with her for the rest of the afternoon. ‘Elliot had been right all along’ she mused, all doubts about him gone now. ‘I really do have a sexual power.’

She found herself humming later that evening, as she dressed for dinner, feeling happier than she had done for a long time. The stinging sensation, from her anus still felt a little uncomfortable: A feeling which she somehow found perversely erotic. Elliot had given her specific instructions about what she should wear tonight, or rather what she shouldn’t wear. She selected a blue dress from the back of her closet, and held it up for examination, the thought thrilling her, that underneath the short little cocktail dress she had chosen, she would be naked, fully available to his advances.

She gazed into the closet mirror, her sapphire blue dress, cut just above the knees, sparkling in the overhead light. The strapless bodice, pushing her breasts together, shamelessly showing off her cleverage, giving her more support than any bra could give. She had not worn this particular dress for nearly two years now, not since her sisters wedding. Even then she had thought it a bit daring, the way the smooth satin clung to her skin, outlining every curve, every blemish. ‘Yes’ she thought, ‘This dress was designed not to be spoilt by underwear.’

She picked out a matching pair of shoes and quickly glanced at the clock. He would be here soon. The thought sending tingles up along her spine. Already she could feel the dampness between her legs, the butterflies within her belly. She looked into the mirror for reconfirmation, satisfying herself that the sluttish feelings that she was experiencing were well concealed. To all intent and purposes she looked quite respectable…but on the inside, all respectability had been thrown out of the window! The anticipation of going out into public with him, her total nakedness, hidden only by a thin covering of satin, filled her head with wicked thoughts…deliciously wicked thoughts…

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He came to her door with roses in his hand, a ridiculously lavish bouquet that overwhelmed her with its size and fragrance, and he waited patiently while she found a vase and set them on her living room table. As she worked she could feel; his eyes upon her. He had told her that she looked beautiful, but his words said nothing compared to the look in his eyes.

His eyes were on her in the limousine as well, watching her every move, drifting over her body. “Tell me,” he asked her. “Are you feeling any different? Because I can sense that you’re changing. You already seem calmer, more sensual and much lovelier than when we met, and it’s coming from inside. It’s nothing superficial. Have you noticed?”

Susan was non-committal, but she felt his words like a kiss between her legs. She turned her face to the window and watching the lights of the city and the romantic, mysterious darkness outside.

The restaurant was so exclusive that there was little there to signal its presence: a red carpet and canopy leading to the front doors of an old converted mansion where a doorman waited. Inside it was dark, with wood paneling and thick, rich carpeting, giving the feeling of old, very old wealth and taste. As they were shown to their table, Susan recognized several of the diners as local celebrities and people of note. They were shown to a table in the back, well away from the others and screened by tall potted ferns.

He ordered them cocktails and as they sipped their frigid yet ethereal-tasting martinis, she told him what had happened today in her office after he’d left. He didn’t look pleased. “When I told you that you would learn to use the power of your sexuality, I didn’t mean anything so crass as humiliating a man, my dear,” he said. “Rather, you’ll find that your experiences with me will give you a kind of inner strength or femininity that men and women will come to recognize without your having to do anything. It’s the kind of character that a veteran gets from being in a war, a kind of confidence and self-knowledge that most people just don’t have. You don’t have to rush it, Susan. It will just come.”

The waiter came with a plate of oysters and cold shell fish for them, and when he left, Elliot continued.

“It’s always dangerous to deal with humiliation,” he said. “Which is why I never use it with you.”

She looked at him for a moment and then said, “Well, what do you call coming into a woman’s office and f… And sexually assaulting her?”

He didn’t miss a beat as he squeezed lemon juice over the oysters. “I call that bringing out her hidden desires. Teaching her what she wants, because she’s lost the ability to even know.”

His eyes flicked up at her.
Just as tonight after dinner I am going to take you back to my apartment and fuck you, Susan. It’s something we both want, though I doubt you’d dare admit it to yourself.”

Before Susan could answer, he put down his fork and slid his chair over next to her. He took her face in one hand and held it while he ran his tongue around her lips. the way he held her and kissed her was so unexpected and so blatantly possessive, that it quite shocked her. She thought to object that they were in public, but she knew instinctively that would mean nothing to him, so she just sat there with her hands in her lap as he kissed her.

“Open your legs, Susan,” he whispered in her ear.

“But Elliot…”

“Just do it. Do as I say. Open your legs.”

The table cloth hung down over her thighs, concealing what was below the table, but even so, when she felt his fingers on the inside of her thigh, just inches from her naked sex, Susan gasped. She crumpled the linen napkin in her lap.

His fingers worked their way up her thigh. They both knew she was wearing no panties and that there was nothing between her and the world but the sheer fabric of her thin dress, and yet nothing prepared her for the sensual jolt she felt when his fingers made contact with her most sensitive flesh. The nerve of him, to be fondling her like this in the midst of the cream of society! She fought the urge to push him away as she felt his finger slide up and down her slit, probing for an opening.

“When I tell you you’re a slut, I have no intention of humiliating you,” he said, one hand on the back of her chair, the other beneath her skirt. ”It’s only a statement of fact. Slut need not be a pejorative. By slut I just mean a woman who loves sex, though I must admit that in your case that love is stronger than most, isn’t it, Susan?”

She put her hands on the arms of her chair and hung on as his middle finger parted her lips and teased her opening. Despite her fear and embarrassment, he could feel her incipient wetness. His finger began to slowly friction back and forth, only a fraction of an inch, and Susan heard herself moan shamelessly.

“Your nipples are hard,” he said. “I can see them through your dress. Are you thinking about later? About my big, thick cock sliding inside of you? Or are you remembering this afternoon, how you came with my prick shoved up into your ass?”

 

[Cherrie]

She moaned as she listened attentively to his words, knowing that each syllable had been pacifically chosen in order to arouse her. Whatever their motive, it was working. She felt the pressure of his hand beneath the table, caressing, teasing, slowly stroking it’s self back and forth along her moist lips, searching for an entrance. The thought of what he was doing to her in such a public place, filled her with a panic, a dread that any moment they may be discovered, but she also found it exciting, a daring that she had never before experienced.

Nervously she slid her hand across onto his lap, her delicate fingers trembling as they slowly traced patterns along his upper inner thigh, searching for what they knew would be waiting. They paused, but only briefly, before coming to rest on the hardness that pressed against the material of his trousers, her heart bubbling with mixed emotions, as she felt it jump at the touch of her fingers. She sighed quietly, remembering the way it’s thickness had savagely entered her earlier, filling her to capacity… stretching the tight skin of her ass, until she felt it would tear. Her eyes sought his, wanting to let him know that she was ready…ready to be taken again, with all the brutishness he cared to muster.

“Oh!” a small twinge rippled along her thighs, as his finger found its target and entered her moist entrance. His thumb, expertly holding open her inner labia, whilst at the same time softly stroking her clitoris with its knuckle. She parted her legs wider, pushing them up hard against the legs of the table. The hem of her dress now pulled up high around her waist, leaving only the tablecloth to protect her modesty from onlookers.

Elliot smiled, satisfied with the fact that she was learning so quickly. He felt the tightness of her fingers closing around the outline of his cock, her hands trembling like a small bird, as her fingers gently fluttered back and forth along its thick shaft. He watched her face, the slight pinkness on her cheeks, beginning to turn a richer shade of red, as her arousal grew in intensity: The soft glow from the candles, the reflection of the flames dancing like Angels across her face. Hesitantly, as though reluctant to let the moment pass, he withdrew his hand and brought it up towards her chin, cupping it until their eyes were only inches apart.

“I think we had better eat,” he said at last. “There’s no point in letting good food go to waste. Besides there’ll be plenty of time for other things later.”

Susan’s heart hammered in her chest, she couldn’t resist but to lick her lips in anticipation of ‘the other things’ that were to come later. She suddenly felt self-conscious, her mind rushing back to the present, as she reached under the table, and tugged at the hem of her dress, trying to cover her nakedness.

“Leave it,” he said suddenly, his hand stopping her. “ I haven’t quite finished yet.”

She felt herself blush. There was something surreal about sitting there in the middle of the crowded restaurant, with her legs spread apart and naked from the waist down, whilst they nonchalantly sipped their drinks, as if nothing was happening. She watched him closely, as he picked up an oyster and gently prized it’s contents from the shell, seductively grinning at her before placing it between his lips. Fully aware of what he was implying, she watched, her lips unconsciously mimicking his, as he gently nibbled at the tiny morsel, teasing the delicate flesh onto his tongue before devouring it completely. Susan wished for one minute…that she were that oyster.

It was over half an hour before either of them spoke again. It had been a comfortable silence, in which words had not been necessary, as if each knew what the other was thinking. Susan found the silence only seemed to heighten her expectations of what was to come later. It also gave her the chance to enjoy the meal, and take in her surroundings.

She had been quite surprised upon their arrival. She surmised that Elliot was going all out to impress her; the place seemed so exclusive, so much so, that she doubted it was even in the phone book. From the outside it had resembled an old Manor house, similar to the ones her parents had taken her to see as a child. The dining room, although re-modernised still held traces of days gone bye. The rich oak paneled walls, polished to perfection over the years, the many oil paintings that hung throughout, gave the place a grandiose feeling…a feeling that one had stepped back in time, a feeling of power and opulence.

“How did you find this place Elliot?” she asked, at last breaking the silence.

“Why don’t you like it…there’s nothing wrong is there?”

“No far from it. It’s quite magnificent…so oldie worldly…so… I don’t know…so…”

“So opulent?”

“Opulent! Now there’s a word you don’t hear everyday,” she giggled.

“It’s better than ‘Oldie worldly ’ what is that…another of your quaint old English sayings?” he teased.

“ Elliot, I’m being serious. How ever did you find this place?”

“Ahh, that ever inquisitive mind of yours. Lets just say it’s been in the family for years.”

“What…you own this place? It must be worth milli…”

“ Now Susan, lets not get carried away, or jump to any conclusions. Just sit back and enjoy your meal,” he retorted.

Susan could tell by the sudden change in his manner, that she had hit a nerve, said something that had displeased him. It was then that she realized that she knew nothing about this man. Not who he really was, or where he came from…’Christ’ she thought, ‘I don’t even know where he lives.’
It seemed as if he had suddenly appeared from nowhere, just when she needed him the most. As though he had been lurking in the shadows, waiting to make his move.

She picked up the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table in front of her empty plate. The move so purposeful, so deliberate that she knew he would take it as a conscious challenge, akin to throwing down the gauntlet.

“Who are you Elliot…who are you really?” she asked defiantly, staring him straight in the eyes.

He held her gaze, his eyes burning into hers… burrowing into her soul to reach the turmoil that was threatening to tear her apart. He already knew which buttons to press… which buttons turned her hot and cold, and he knew from the arrogant expression on her face, that it was time to push them again.


“I’m your personal trainer Susan. I’m your guide, your mentor, call me what you will. I’m the man that is going to take you home and fuck you…fuck you in ways you could only dream about previously. It’s what you really want…isn’t it?”

“Y…yes,” she stammered.

“Then ask me Susan.”

“Please Elliot,” she pleaded.

“Ask me Susan,” he repeated.

“Elliot,” she began, “Elliot take me home and fuck me…do it now please.”

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He hustled her out of the restaurant with his hand on her arm, moving her so quickly that she had to almost skip to keep up. She thought he must be angry with her, and a glance at the dark look on his face and the set of his jaw reinforced her suspicion, but from the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking she knew it wasn't anger that motivated him, but need. He was every bit as sexually aroused as she was: a volcano about to explode.

The look of desire on his face thrilled her terribly, and he no sooner had pushed her into the limo and put up the privacy screen than he bore down upon her, covering her body with his own, his hands going to her breasts. he kissed her savagely, pressing her down into the rich leather seat, and his hand went to her thigh and pulled her dress up, exposing her nakedness inside the car.

“When you ask me who I am, you mean you want all the details of my life, but those aren’t important to us now,” he said. “What you really want to know is what I mean to do with you, and what I’ve been doing so far. Well I’ll tell you, Susan. For years I’ve been looking for someone. Looking for a woman, one who shares my passions and desire for sex and for life; one who fits me like a glove, who wants to take everything I want to give and in return give what I need. Right now I am trying to find out if you are that woman, Susan, if you’re the one I’ve been looking for.

“I’ve had to approach you this way because I already know what she’ll be like. Someone accomplished and capable, intelligent and very sexual, and yet one who doesn’t yet understand her own desires, who’s incomplete in that way. I need to teach her, to be her guide as well as her lover, because I have very particular tastes when it comes to sex, and she has to share them. Do you understand?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. The two of them were slumped in the wide back seat, almost prone. He made her sit up, and from his pocket he took a pair of chrome-plated handcuffs. He pulled her forward, made her put her wrists behind her back and then clipped them together. He pushed her back down on the seat and roughly pushed her thighs apart.

She moaned as his fingers found her pussy again and slid easily inside. There was no hiding her wetness nor the excitement on her face. He leaned over her and his finger worked in and out of her as his thumb slid over her oily clit while he kissed gently at her lips, gauging her reaction to her violation as the limo slid through the streets of the city.

He paid no attention to what she wanted or her own feelings. All he seemed to care about was her level of sexual excitement and he studied her face as he worked his finger in and out of her. It was rude and dehumanizing and yet terribly arousing, and Susan found her inhibitions and even her self respect slipping away from her as he treated her like an unfeeling sex toy. And yet wasn't that what was so exciting too? The things he did seemed to speak directly to her body, bypassing her reason and control as if she weren’t even there. It was like he was having an affair with her body and she was just forced to come along and observe the lewd and shameful things she did.

“Oh no,” he said, removing his fingers. “You’re not coming yet. You don’t come until I say so, do you understand? That’s what tonight is all about: finding out how much you can take. Now taste it. Taste your own desire.”

He slid the finger he had just used on her into her mouth, and despite herself, Susan licked at it eagerly, her own depraved behavior exiting her even more.

Just as the limo pulled to a stop outside their gym, he pulled the leather collar from his coat pocket and buckled it around her neck. He threw her coat around her shoulders—there was no way she could put it on with her hands cuffed behind her—and led her outside. She had to stand like a slave on the sidewalk, her collar around her neck, while Elliot dismissed the driver. There was no one around, but even so Susan kept her eyes on the ground.

He led her inside, but instead of going up to the gym he opened the door to the ground floor and Susan found herself in some sort of abandoned industrial setting. There were steel racks and chain hoists and great cloth-covered humps standing on the floor that could only be industrial machinery. He led her towards the back, past several thick steel fire doors to a room unlike the rest of the place. This one was decorated, painted a dark gray, carpeted, with equipment that Susan realized was constructed specifically for bound sex: chairs padded with black leather and set with chromed fasteners; a kind of horizontal 'X' to which someone could be tied with their legs spread apart, a vertical X which she recognized as a whipping rack. Against one wall was a large bed, freshly made, and opposite that was a stainless steel frame with chains and cuffs hanging from it. It stood directly opposite a full-length mirror.

He removed her coat and threw it aside, then unfastened the handcuffs. “Take off your clothes,” he said.

Susan did as he said as he went around the room lighting candles. She noticed the armoire, the doors standing ajar, and could see the cold gleam of metal and polished leather inside.

He buckled the thick leather cuffs around her wrists and fastened her hands at shoulder height, then he bent and affixed cuffs to her ankles too. When he was finished he moved around behind her and stood close, his body pressing against her naked skin. He ran his hands up over her belly, over her ribs, and cupped her heavy breasts in his hands.

“Now we’ll see,” he said. “We’ll see if you’re the woman I think you are. But remember: you’re not to come until I give you permission. You must tell me when you get close. Is that understood?”

She nodded.

 

[Cherrie]

She found herself trembling under his touch. The feel of his hot breath as it, teased the fine downy hairs at the nape of her neck, and caused small tingles to run along the length of her spine. An eerie silence filled the room, spoilt only by the soft purring sounds that emanated from deep within her throat, as she felt his teeth gently clamp around her right ear lobe, nibbling and then taking the orb inside his mouth. She tilted her head as he sucked at it like a baby drawing milk from its mother’s teat.

“Oh Elliot,” she moaned, “I don’t know if…”

“Shh…be still,” he whispered, walking around to face her. “You’re not to come, do you understand?”

She nodded once more in complete resignation, knowing by his stern manner that any argument would be useless. All she knew was that she wanted him, needed to make him understand, that although she was fresh clay ready to be molded in any fashion he deemed fit, she was after all, only mere flesh and bone.

He held her gaze as he slowly undressed, relishing the anticipation that now showed on her face, as he stood naked before her: His manhood now hard and thick, proudly standing to attention and displaying its desire for her. She knew that he was testing her…wanting her to beg him to fuck her, fuck her like a mad dog on heat, fuck her like the bitch she was. All the time the memory of his words ringing in her ears, telling her that maybe this time he would deny her, the release she craved. She pulled at the chains that bound her wrists to the frame, her soft moans filling the room.

“Please Ell…” she started, her plea cut short by his lips crushing against hers, his strong muscular hands cupping her face, holding her still like a frightened child. Without further protest nor struggle, she submitted to his will, watching as he reached down and gripped the leather manacles that were wrapped around each ankle, and then fastening them to the clips that were attached to each side of the frame.

Now with her legs held crudely apart, Susan realized that every inch of her nakedness was now his to admire. She could feel the blood racing through her veins, the dampness between her breasts, as her perspiration formed itself into droplets, before running down onto her belly. She looked up in order to gaze at her own reflection in the mirror, and was held mesmerized as she watched the flickering of the orange flames from the many candles dance on her sweat soaked skin. Although no longer afraid, she still found herself trembling…trembling in anticipation at what he might do with her, at what she hoped he would do with her… now that she was completely defenseless and at his mercy.

She watched as he slowly circled her outstretched form, his hungry eyes drinking in every detail, like a lion about to pounce on its prey. She felt strange; it wasn’t shame or fear, but a strange feeling of wickedness, a feeling that after tonight there would be no turning back, a feeling of eating the forbidden fruit, and once it had been picked and tasted…it could never be replaced on the tree.

He knelt down in front of her, his eyes feasting on the delicious opening between her outstretched legs, now only inches away from his face. It excited her knowing that he could feel her heat, smell the musky aroma that radiated from between her moist lips. She waited, knowing that it could only be a matter of moments, before she would feel his tongue upon her yearning flesh. She bit down hard onto her bottom lip, her pulse racing as she waited patiently for the magic of his touch.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He knelt before her like a supplicant, hardly like a dominant at all, and in fact that was his secret: that her beauty and vulnerability so affected him that it was she who held him in thrall. She was held like a sacrifice to his all-consuming lust, and if she ever suspected the feelings that he now fought to control, feelings of desire and need so strong that they almost made him tremble, this little masquerade would be over, and they would both know who was in control of this relationship.

But he wasn't about to tell her, and it was part of the game that he exercise strict control not only over just himself, but over her as well. It was part of the game that everything be done slowly, deliberately, with full sensual knowledge, intentionally stoking the fires to a point almost past bearing. He had to control her and take her to a place where she needed him every bit as much as he needed her. He had to strip away everything she thought she knew about herself and evoke the sexual animal that lived within her, summon it forth and make her witness her own wild and perverse desires.

He knelt before her now and reached around behind her to take her buttocks in his hands. Already the exercises were having their effect, and her ass was provocatively high and rounded; soft, yet with the feeling of strength beneath the smooth surface. He spread his fingers and then dug them into her, feeling the give of her flesh as he pulled her hips towards him. She fought him instinctively, but she was no match for his strength, and he brought her so close that he could smell her sexual arousal. He breathed it in through his nose, then stuck out his tongue and touched her.

She gasped as his tongue made contact with her wet pussy and slid along it. He opened his mouth and extended his tongue as far as he could, worming his way up into her, driving his tongue up into the gate of her body, searching, touching her all over. he held her ass tightly, forcing her against him, and he could feel her muscles suddenly flex as the feel of his tongue got to her and she drove her pelvis against his mouth, bending her legs to tilt her pussy up for his access.

He tilted his head back and pressed up against her, trying to pierce her and taste the inside of her dripping cunt. His tongue, his lips, even his teeth worked against her, as one hand slid around until his little finger was pressing against her anus. Susan threw her head back and groaned as his finger pressed relentlessly against her little rosebud as he gobbled her pussy and sucked noisily at her clit. He was like a wild man, with no regard for her as a person. no regard for her own needs or her self-respect. His finger popped inside and Susan cried out at the lewd invasion.

Her ass hadn’t been the same since he fucked her there on her desk. She was aware now of the pleasure she was capable of feeling there, and as he ate her and fingered her ass she all but lost control of her body. Her legs, already bent at the knees to present her pussy to him, now grew too weak to support her and she fell till it was only the cuffs on her wrists that held her up. Elliot took advantage of that to pull her ass up tighter. his finger working around inside her as he sucked on her turgid clit.

And then his finger was gone. She thought the worst was over, but no. With his free hand he delivered a stinging slap to her ass, then another, and all the while his tongue was tracing maddening circles around her clit so that the sharp pain mingled with the licentious pleasure of his mouth and she felt as though her entire lower body was on fire with sexual heat.

He stopped. Just when she had felt the forces of her orgasm beginning to focus, he stopped and stood up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and she could see her own oils gleaming on his moustache. He walked to the armoire and opened the doors, and she watched through lowered lashes as he selected a riving crop, about a foot and half long.

He came over to her and held the end of it against her mouth.

“Kiss it,” he said. “Lick it. This is going to be your new lover now. You’re going to learn to love this every bit as much as you love my cock.”

 

[Cherrie]

He offered the crop up to her face; the smell of polished leather assailing her nostrils, and she did as she had been instructed, kissing the small leather tassel at the end of the crop. He seductively drew its length along the line of her soft lips, smiling as he watched her tongue, darting in and out delicately savoring the taste. For a second, he wanted to be the crop…wanted his cock to take its place, wanted to feel the softness of her lips around his throbbing shaft, and not some inanimate piece of leather, but he knew he had to show control…for after all she was but his student… and he was the master.

Susan’s face showed no alarm, even though her body betrayed her. The sweat was now running down her skin in rivulets, as the fear built up silently inside her. Her stomach turning somersaults in anticipation at what she knew was to come.

She watched through the mirror, her eyes opening wide, and then closing tightly shut, as he raised the leather crop high into the air above his head, and brought it crashing down across her naked buttocks. She stifled a cry of pain and surprise, as the leather found its target, the sharp stinging sensation burning itself into her skin, to be almost instantly replaced by a warm glow that seemed to reach deep inside her soul. She sucked in her breath as another blow wracked through her body, this time a bit harder. Susan had never imagined that pain could feel so exquisite…so vivacious. She could feel her whole body alive, as the endorphins coursed their way through her veins.

Elliot delivered a further six blows, each with the same intensity as the first, and with hardly a break between each one. It was apparent, as he had guessed all along that it would be; Susan would take to this form of sexual pleasure, like a duck takes to water. The thought excited him as he lowered the crop, letting it trace a path down along her belly, now slick with sweat, and placed it gently between her outstretched legs, unfolding the inner lips of her labia to reveal her swollen clitoris. Gently he tantalized the swollen bud with the end of the crop, smiling as he watched the end become soaked with her juices.

Susan moaned as she felt him drag the stiff leather along the crease of her cunt, pressing it up hard against her clitoris: The rough plait of the shaft causing small vibrations of pleasure to ripple through her.

“Elliot,” she gasped, “I’m coming!”

Upon hearing her plea, he paused and then removed the crop and offered it up to her lips once again, pleased that she had not forgotten his instructions. He smiled contentedly, as he watched her greedily lick the leather clean, savoring the taste of her own secretions.

Susan stared up into his face, her eyes locking rigidly onto his, as he watched her lapping up her own juices with relish. She knew it was only something a dirty little slut would do, ‘but wasn’t that what she was’ she thought, a dirty little slut…his dirty little slut? The thought inflamed her passion for him; she wanted him so badly, needed to show him just how dirty she could really be…if given half the chance.

“Your hot Susan,” he noticed, holding his hand flat against her belly, and feeling the slickness of her sweat soaked skin. He glided his hand effortlessly up between her breasts, her wetness seeping through his fingers like body oil. “We’ll have to do something about that,” he added matter of factly.

Susan watched his reflection in the mirror, as he let the crop slide from his fingers onto the floor at her feet.

“I won’t be long,” he announced suddenly, as he turned and disappeared from her view.

She called after him, but already it was too late. She heard the click of the bolt on the outside of the door as he quickly pulled it back after leaving. For the first time since she had known him, she felt suddenly alone. She pulled desperately at her restraints, struggling to free herself, but the bonds proving themselves to be unyielding, held her fast. Susan fought the urge to scream, her fear at being suddenly abandoned, bubbling up to the surface. Left with only her reflection in the mirror for company, she felt the first teardrops beginning to form in the corner of her eyes.

“Oh why Elliot?” she found herself crying, “Why leave me this way?”

She stared into the mirror, the tears in her eyes blurring her vision, and causing the reflection from the flickering candlelight on her damp skin to become dreamlike, holding her entranced as the light broke itself into all the different colors of the rainbow, before dancing like angels along her body.
She stayed motionless for several minutes, hardly daring to draw breath, less the sound of her own breathing should spoil the magic that was being transmitted back at her from the glass. Enthralled to the point of being narcistic, Susan at last heard the bolt slide back on the door as Elliot returned to her side.

As he at last stood before her, she noted that in his left hand, he was carrying two tulip shaped drinking glasses, and had a white towel draped over his arm. Under his right arm, was tucked a silver bucket which he placed at her feet. Twisting her head, Susan could see that the bucket appeared to contain ice, out of which was sticking the green neck of a bottle. She watched curiously, as he bent down and rotated the bottle in the ice, before removing it and then carefully wiping it dry with the towel.

Without a word he held up the magnum and popped the cork, laughing like a child as it clattered off the ceiling with a loud bang. She shivered as the fine cold spray, which suddenly erupted, splashed against her hot skin.

“I thought you might be thirsty,” he said, pouring out a glass of the Champagne and offering it up to her mouth. “I hope you like Bollinger, it’s a favorite of mine.”

She sipped from the proffered glass, the bubbles cascading around her mouth and then popping like fireworks onto her tongue. She drank greedily, savoring the sweet taste, unaware that she had been so thirsty.

“Of course the only real way to enjoy Champagne is like this,” he announced, holding the ice-cold bottle against her belly, and slowly sliding it up and down her body.

The sudden coldness contracted her skin pores, causing her whole body to shiver uncontrollably as the Goosebumps formed upon her skin. He raised the bottle, holding it tight against her chest, and smiled as he watched her nipples harden against the cold. Tilting the bottle, he let a little of the sweet wine spill from the end, watching in fascination as it formed itself into two rivulets that ran between her breasts, and down across her belly before disappearing between her legs.

“Oh please Elliot,” she moaned softly between clenched teeth, “Please I’m more than ready, take me now! I don’t think I can stand much more of this.”

“But Susan,” he replied, holding up his glass. “We’ve only just started…and besides we haven’t even finished our wine yet.”

With that he returned the now half empty bottle back to its place inside the bucket, and placed his glass along side. His hands now empty, he reached deeper into the silver bucket and retrieved a single ice cube, which he quickly popped into his mouth. Leaning closer, he kissed away the tears that had collected upon her cheeks, relishing the salty taste. Susan let out a short gasp, as he lowered his head and clamped his mouth over her nipple. She wanted to scream, the sensation of coldness against her hot over sensitive skin, becoming almost unbearable. She moaned softly as his tender lips traced their path downwards. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, the fingers of his hands digging into her naked buttocks, pulling them apart: Whilst all the time his tongue…that magic tongue of his, darted in and out, like a snake licking at her skin.

She cried out, begging for release as the hairs on his beard brushed against the inside of her thighs, his tongue still lapping at the spilt Champagne. She could feel his mouth opening and closing, caressing her nakedness, until at last she let out a shudder as it closed around her swollen clitoris, sucking it in and bringing it into direct contact with the ice-cube.

“God Elliot…Please!” she found herself screaming, as the numbing coldness sent tremors through her now over sensitive little bud. Every nerve ending in her body tingled, her whole body, now just one gigantic sex organ. Even the simple touch of his hands was enough to send her spiraling over the edge. Susan knew that if he didn’t stop, she would have to disobey him, there was no way she could control the orgasm that was building up inside.

She thrust her hips forward in order to try and impale herself onto his probing tongue, to grind his face harder into her aching pussy. She felt his hands gripping her tightly, pulling her closer as he offered up his mouth to the entrance of her cunt, and injected the ice-cube deep inside her.

Susan’s whole world suddenly exploded around her, as she twisted and fought at the shackles that restrained her. Every muscle in her body seemed to contract and twitch at the same instant, sending her into spasms which her bonds denied. She screamed with pure joy and abandonment as the shudders ran through her body, oblivious to the disapproving way that Elliot now stared at her…oblivious to the fact that he had picked up the crop, and was about to raise it above his head once more.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

This time when the whip came down it was different. She had come, and come violently, exactly what he’d told her not to do, and the whip came down in retribution. She accepted it now; she knew she deserved it, and yet her body, still ringing with deep, echoing pleasure from her orgasm, felt the whip as something far away, felt it through a haze of blinding lust and deep fulfillment.

And yet there was shame too, not just for disobeying him, but for the intensity with which she’d given him her unbridled ecstasy, coming like a common whore in his sucking mouth. The whip had excited her: the way he treated her, the way he played with her as if she were no more than a toy for his pleasure. She could feel his lust and desire in the way he whipped her, his rage to possess her, and she took the pain gladly, reveling in it.

He dropped the whip and walked behind her, and Susan fought to regain some semblance of composure. Her own shameful juices had mixed with the water from the ice and were now dripping down the insides of her thighs. Her nipples were still sharply puckered and standing up from the cold.

She heard what sounded like him opening a jar, and then she felt his presence behind her. He touched her ass, pulling her cheeks apart and she felt the cool kiss of something on her exposed anus, some sort of grease or lubricant.

:Oh God, Elliot! No! Please!”

“What did I tell you?” he asked, smearing the lube around her rectum, his fingers dipping inside her. “I told you not to come, didn’t I? But you came anyhow. You disobeyed me. You have to learn control, Susan. You have to learn that I control your pleasure.”

Suddenly he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, making her gasp with sudden shock and fear.

“I’m going to fuck you, Susan. I’m going to fuck your ass while you stand in these chains. And you’re going to come. You’re going to orgasm with my big cock up your hot ass, come like a little slut as I fuck your ass and whip your pussy. And when you come I’ll feel it in your asshole, the way it grips me. That’ll give me pleasure Susan, and the harder you come, the better I’ll like it. Do you understand?”

She was afraid to speak. Already he was pushing the big head of his cock against her tiny sphincter, steadily spreading her apart, forcing his way in. Susan grabbed on to the chains and held on tight, as if she were about to fall. She heard him grunt and swear with impatience as her tight ring of muscle refused him, and she tired to will herself to relax, tried to make it easy for him.

“Bitch!” he spat, slapping her ass hard. His hand landed on the welts from the whipping and a spear of pain shot through her. He got to head of his prick centered against her, then took hold of the bones of her hips and began to pull her back onto his unyielding stalk, rolling his own hips at the same time, screwing his way into her. Despite her distress, Susan noticed that he held a flogger in one hand, a whip with soft, suede thongs.

“Oh God!” she moaned in shame as she felt him push into her bowels. He was incredibly hard and he wouldn’t be denied. She felt lewd thrills run up the inside of her legs and down her spine as he pushed the head inside of her, stretching her cruelly.

“Yes…” he hissed once he felt him inside. He gave her just a moment to adjust, and then continued his implacable push, sending his cock deep up inside her.

Susan groaned. She threw her head back, resting it on his shoulder as she felt his prick slide up into her. He took hold of her breasts, found the nipples and rolled them between his fingers, causing her to sob with the exquisite pain.

He was all in now, his legs bent to get the most of his prick into her. Susan couldn’t move. Her legs didn’t work, and all she could do was hang in the chains as he began to gently saw in and out of her. Her fingers twisted in the bonds and her body shuddered. She was his, skewered on the hard stalk of his cock.

Elliot was panting and gasping with the effort. He reached around in front of her and found her empty, dripping pussy, and spread her open with two fingers, exposing her hard little clit to the cool air of the room. She felt him pull his other hand back, the hand with the flogger in it, and then he brought it forward.

The thongs wrapped around the top of her thigh and beat against her exposed cunt, some of them plopping wetly into her soaked slit. Susan saw stars. Elliot pushed up against her, made sure his cock was buried deep in her ass. And then he began to whip her naked cunt.

 

[Cherrie]

The searing pain came in waves as it surged through her body, momentarily driving the breath from her lungs: The still silence of the room suddenly filled with her screams, as the whips thongs, now heavy with her own juices, sliced through the air to land brutally between her outstretched legs. As each lash arched its way towards her cunt, she found herself involuntarily wrestling against the pull of the chains, trying to anticipate its arrival, only to find her self being driven down harder onto his thick cock.

“No…No more please,” she found herself begging. Her desperate plea sounding almost like a whimper, against the hiss of the whip as it continued to reign down on her poor tortured pussy.

Oblivious to her cries, Elliot continued driving into her. Each thrust…each blow harder than the previous: All compassion thrown aside, his lust for her taking control. He knew he had to teach her a lesson in obedience that she would never forget. He felt her body pushing itself hard against him, and then stiffening, relaxing…and then stiffening again, as though she was a mere marionette on the end of the puppeteers string.

At last, the onslaught subsided, as Elliot threw the flogger to the ground and tightly gripped her hair in both hands. Pulling her head sharply backwards, he lowered his head and began gently nibbling at the lobe of her right ear.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you my little slut?” he rasped, his lust for her growing stronger. “You like to feel my big thick cock up your tight little ass…don’t you?”

All she could manage in way of a response was a slight moan between her tightly clenched teeth, as she waited for the stinging to subside. It felt as though her body was aflame, her delicate nerve-endings, now beaten into total submission, throbbed from the whipping she had received. She felt her feet almost leave the floor as he lunged forward once again into her tight asshole, his cock impaling her up to its hilt.

“Don’t you…don’t you my wondrous bitch?” he added, pulling harder at her hair in order to look into her upturned face. “You like me to fuck you up the ass…don’t you?”

With each syllable, she felt her sphincter muscles tighten, her hole squeezing his cock in a vice like grip. She had no doubts, even through the pain, that he knew that this is what she craved…what she needed. It just surprised her how quickly she had adapted. How readily she had grown to trust him…to allow him to dominate her so easily. His vile words so crude and basic, spurred her on, reminding her of the slut she really was.

Pushing back hard against his groin, she attempted to take the initiative, her movements now matching his, thrust for thrust, as his hands released the grip on her hair, and begin to wander along the length of her body, pausing only for a brief moment as they teased each nipple, before finally coming to rest between her legs. She let out a soft cry as his hands brushed against her now tender pussy lips, his strong fingers delicately tracing paths along the thin red welts that had risen in the skin along her upper thighs.

Looking at their reflection in the mirror, Susan found that she could look into his eyes, and was surprised at how gently they gazed back at her over her shoulder. They were not the lust filled eyes of some deranged animal that she had expected to see. Certainly not the eyes of someone that still held her impaled and were in the process of ravaging her beyond her wildest expectations. No they were kind eyes, eyes that understood how she felt, eyes that held her captive in their gaze…eyes that seemed to take great joy feasting on her naked flesh. Almost in an instant, she felt all pain subside from her battered body, as she held his stare. Now it was a new feeling, a feeling of euphoria, a feeling that she found she enjoyed.

She felt embarrassed almost like a voyeur, as she watched the two figures locked together in the mirror. Almost as if it was someone else, some other couple that was thrusting and sweating, joined at the hips like two back street dogs: Her embarrassment giving way to one of shame, as she watched the expression of pure rapture light up her face.

Almost mesmerized, Susan watched his hands, his nimble fingers delicately teasing back the pink folds of skin between her legs and pulling the lips of her labia apart to reveal the prize inside. Her clitoris, now so sensitive to his touch, stood proud, akin to a new bud on a summer rose. She heard herself gasp aloud, her whole body jolting alive as his thumbs drew back and flicked it from side to side.

Elliot felt her shake in his grasp and knew that she was very near to her orgasm. He too was very close to the verge, his own climax being only seconds away, but he also knew that he had to hold back. The night was still young and he savored the hidden pleasures that he had yet to reveal to his willing pupil: Pleasures that she could never imagine.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Elliot felt her shake in his grasp and knew that she was very near to her orgasm. He too was very close to the verge, his own climax being only seconds away, but he also knew that he had to hold back. The night was still young and he savored the hidden pleasures that he had yet to reveal to his willing pupil: Pleasures that she could never imagine.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled his cock from her body. It took all his will-power to pull out of her warm and welcoming ass, so close to orgasm and with her trembling in the chains, her heated juices dripping from his fingers. His withdrawal left her painfully empty, and where she had just been fighting to accept his cruel thickness, now she felt alone, frustrated, her body burning for the ecstasy of release.

He bent, and his fingers went to the cuffs around her ankles, releasing the chains. He stood and unclipped her wrists, and she could feel his fingers shaking with his need for her as well. She needed him too, so much that she almost collapsed without the support of the chains, but he was there to catch her in his strong arms. She sagged back against his powerful chest and he caught her breasts in his hands to hold her up. She turned her head back to him to speak, to beg him to finish her, but she found his mouth instead, reaching for her, silencing any words she might have. Never had she felt such a hot and impassioned kiss; never had she felt such sexual need, such unbearable arousal, and it all but made her swoon when she realized the force of his desire. It was like a firestorm of passion, and it threatened to sweep her away, to where she didn’t know. But the emotion she felt inhis kiss, her own frustration, the ringing pain in her body, and her own sexual excitement was almost more than she could bear.

He half-dragged, half-carried her over to the crude bed and laid her carefully down on her back. Her legs were of no use to her; completely drained of any strength. She was like a child in his arms, helpless and totally trusting, and in any case, totally unable to resist him. There was nothing else she could do, and yet she was willing to do anything for him. She would give him anything she had.

He laid her back, then got up and found his tube of lubricant. She watched as he slathered more of the cream on his angry red prick, so hard and swollen that she thought it must burst. It must hurt him horribly, and yet still she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride, knowing that she was the one responsible for his unbearable arousal. All his attention was focused on her.

He climbed on the bed between her legs, took her calves in his hand and raised them to his shoulders, lifting her bottom from the bed. He shuffled forward on his knees till the head of his cock was once more against her defenseless anus, and she willed herself to relax, to let him enter her once again. His face was a dark, angry red, as if suffused with fury, but she knew that she was seeing his naked sexual need. She prepared herself for his entry.

“Oh! God!” she cried out as he penetrated her ass again, but this time it was not so much a cry of pain as it was one of desperate fulfillment. She grabbed his forarms, digging her nails into him. His prick forced her open, forced open the deepest recesses of her body. It would not be denied, and Susan felt him sliding into the welcome warmth of her body once more, claiming her, owning her, filling her with his raging masculine hardness.

He pushed, he pushed. He pushed into her farther than he’d gone when she’d been standing, and it felt like he’d never end, like he’d split her in two. But at last she felt his loins against the raised welts of her ass and knew that he was in all the way. She’d taken him all.

“Beautiful bitch,” he moaned, holding her whipped buttocks in his hands ands squeezing softly. “You belong to me now. All of you belongs to me. I’m going to take you like no one’s ever taken you before, Susan. I’m going to mark you and make you mine. Do you want that? Tell me, do you want that?”

Susan was on fire. As he spoke to her he flexed his cock inside her ass, sending waves of lascivious pleasure coursing through her body. When he leaned over her his lower belly pressed against the swollen lips of her pussy, and his hair tickled her clit. he reached down and slid two fingers around that little bud and began to masturbate her even as his prick pulsed with life in her ass.

“Yes, yes,” she breathed, “Anything you want. Take it all. Fuck me. Take it all.”

Her words inflamed him, and he began masturbating her more rapidly, his fingers sliding in her sopping cunt. It was more than she could take, and she felt her orgasm starting in the soles of her feet: a burning, an overload of sensations in her stretched nerves. She trembled, her belly began to jerk, and she couldn’t keep her hips from thrusting up at his hand. That only caused his cock to move inside her and remind her how totally filled she was, how completely dominated by this man.

The sight of Susan surrendering to her orgasm now inflamed him, and he left off his masturbation. He grabbed her ankles and almost lifted her ass from the bed as he began fucking her hard, sending his prick up into her again and again, his hard belly bruising against her super-sensitive clit even as her body knotted in orgasmic spasms. Susan gasped. She grabbed hold of the sheet in her hands and balled it tight as she felt herself go over the edge, hot lights flashing behind her eyes as the nerves along her spine popped like firecrackers.

She couldn’t control herself; couldn’t cry out, couldn’t breath. She knew he was studying her as she exploded, seeing her in all her slutty pleasure, but there was nothing she could do. She just hung there wracked by ecstatic spasms as she felt his cock grow inside her and then burst like a skyrocket and flood her with his male heat. She felt every throb in his cock as he filled her with his come, and every throb seemed to lift her higher, ever higher, until at last she felt herself falling and he collapsed on top of her, gasping and moaning, all of his strength gone as his semen poured into her violated ass.

“You’re mine now,” he said to her later, as he held her in his arms and they both tried to stop the trembling in their bodies. She didn’t answer him. No answer was necessary. There was no question of who she belonged to any longer. No man had even come close to making her feel what he did, and she knew that she was powerless to refuse him anything.

“Come,” he said after they had regained some control over themselves. “We need to wash. Then we have some pictures to take.”

“Pictures?” she asked. She didn’t understand.

“Yes. I want to take some photographs of you, so I have you with me always. Why, does that bother you?”

 

[Cherrie]

It was as if in a trance, her mind reeling with a thousand thoughts, that she clumsily followed Elliot across the room towards the shower. Her legs feeling as though they no longer wanted to obey her commands trembled beneath her, causing her to stumble. She put out a hand, clutching at his shoulder to steady herself, the warm reassurance of his naked skin beneath her fingers, reminding her that she was still of this world. Standing motionless, her energy sapped, she watched him turn on the shower, and then with a wave of his hand, indicated for her to step under its rose. The water hit her with a blast, its numbing coldness causing her to shiver. She let out a long sigh, not minding the coldness; she found it strangely comforting, the fine spray slowly bringing her back to reality.

Elliot uncapping a small bottle of shower gel, and tipping a little onto his hand joined her under the shower and gently began to stroke her back. She felt his strong hands, effortlessly glide across her naked buttocks, and then up along each side of her body, stopping only when they reached her armpits. She raised her arms above her head, allowing his hands to continue their journey upwards, until they could travel no further, and then lowered them again as his hands tantalizingly retraced their path. No words were spoken, they would only have distracted from the sensuous feelings that she was experiencing. Her whole body was alive, his gentle loving hands, the same hands that could sometimes be so rough and demanding, now soothing their way over every pore of her skin.

Elliot was meticulous in his administrations. No area was missed, no orifice left untouched, as his hands soaped every square inch of her body. It wasn’t sexual; he knew that, that would come later. It was more of a need, a desire to survey what was now his… to cherish, as does the owner of a fine thoroughbred. ‘After all’ he thought, ‘ that’s what she is…isn’t she… A fine young thoroughbred, his to treasure and ride whenever it should please him’.

He held her gently in his arms and spun her around to face him, his eyes feasting upon the prize that was now his. Without a word, he handed her the bottle of gel, watching as she squeezed the soapy liquid over his chest, and gently rubbed it into a foamy lather. Now it was her turn…her turn to explore his body, to caress that which she now coveted so much.

Her outstretched fingers fanned out across his broad chest, making slow circular movements. She felt them tremble, as though for some unexplained reason they had become too shy at the touch of his naked flesh. Susan suddenly realized that despite all the time she had known him, she had been so engrossed, so wrapped up with her own needs and selfish desires, that she had taken little time to look at him properly.

She could feel herself getting embarrassed, not daring to look up into his face, knowing that these dark eyes of his would be staring down at her. She stared instead at the soap patterns, which her fingers drew across his body as they worked their way down along the hard ripples of his belly. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard a soft sigh escape from his lips as her hand moved between his muscular thighs, her forearm lightly brushing against his manhood.

Taking his testicles gently into her hand, she tenderly nursed them on her palm, amazed at how such fragile things could be the source of all a man’s power. Tentatively she stroked each orb in turn, surprised by how soft and delicate they really where, and then her surprise turning to amusement as she witnessed the soft skin beginning to crinkle, causing them to move slowly in her hand. She looked up, her face full of curiosity, and stared almost childlike into his eyes, seeking his permission to explore further, looking for any sign of displeasure.

Elliot smiled back at her, enthralled by her almost naive curiosity, the look of pure fascination in her eyes, akin to that of a child opening a present on Christmas morning. His face broke out into a huge boyish grin, as he surrendered himself to her further explorations.

Dropping onto her knees, Susan lovingly caressed the insides of his strong well-developed thighs, her mouth working its way up from his knees, ever closer to his semi-flaccid penis. She studied it closely, taking it into her hand and holding it to her lips. It was the first time she had seen it at rest…the first time she had seen it looking so harmless and innocently insignificant. It felt different, the skin warm, soft and gentle, and nothing like the hot pulsating cobra that had so brutally possessed her young body a few moments ago. Her mind raced, giving her an almost uncontrollable urge to take it into her mouth, to resurrect it back to life…back to the state when it would arise to its rampant splendor, and be capable of defiling her body unmercifully once again. Even though her body still ached from the brutal way it had penetrated her earlier, she still felt a hunger eating away at her insides, like a forest fire deep within her soul…a fire that smouldered and was still left un-sated.

She wondered what Elliot would say if he could read the dark licentious thoughts that swirled around inside her head…thoughts that she had always regarded as debauched and somehow immoral. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine, the same as if someone had just stepped over her grave, and realized then with a certainty that she could no longer deny…the old Susan was now dead.

So wrapped up with her thoughts, Susan hadn’t noticed that Elliot had switched off the water and was standing over her with a towel. He was smiling down at her, a look of serenity upon his bearded face, a face that belied all the traits of the savage animal lurking behind those dark eyes of his. She shifted her glance upwards, her chin thrust proudly into the air, a mischievous smile splitting her face.

“ Ahh… the photos. Yes I had forgotten all about the photos,” she suggested impishly, as she playfully gave his cock a gentle squeeze, before rising to her feet. “Let’s go and see what your little slut looks like on film!”

Elliot cocked an eyebrow, puzzled by her sudden change in attitude. Gone were all the traits of the shy under confident woman from just a few days ago… the woman that he had selected to mould into a pattern of his own creation. Something had just happened in that small shower room, something that he was unsure of…something he was not certain he liked.

He waited for her to finish toweling herself dry, perplexed at her eagerness to go upstairs and be photographed. She was behaving like a wanton slut, and what’s more…enjoying it. This was not at all how he had expected her to react. ‘Perhaps she isn’t fully aware of what awaits her’ he mused.

“Your sure you don’t object to me photographing you Susan?” he asked at last.

“Off course not Elliot, why do you ask?” she replied full of self-confidence, “After all…how bad could it be?”

“Mmm…” he replied, indicating for her to follow him, his arousal starting to become self evident. “How bad indeed…”

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He stopped to slip into some denim pants and a tee-shirt, then led her barefoot back to a room, small, but surprisingly well equipped. There were two large photographer’s spot lights, and a video and still camera on tripods. In front of the cameras was an armchair, a table spread with toys, and back towards one wall a simple cot.

“In the chair,” he said.

She sat down in the chair, the leather seat cold against the heat of the welts on her naked bottom. He took a pair of black leather cuffs from the table and buckled them around her ankles, then took another pair and did the same to her wrists. She watched his fingers as he cinched the black straps against the paleness of her wrists. The feel of the restricting cuffs was becoming familiar to her now, and it excited her. It reminded her of her subservience to his desires. It felt good to be his captive, to be needed so much. As he worked she glanced at his crotch, and even through his trousers she could see his hardness. He was aroused too, and that knowledge caused a thrill of lewd excitement to surge through her body.

In fact, everything excited her: the blind eyes on the cameras, the bright lights, the fact that he was dressed and she was naked. He buckled a broad, leather collar around her neck and made her look down so he could adjust the buckles. The feel of his fingers against the naked back of her neck caused her nipples to harden and her hunger intensified.

She felt his breath on her neck and then the warmth of his lips. His opened his mouth and she felt the hardness of his teeth against her flesh as he bit her. She groaned with pleasure. It was so lewd, so animalistic, like a cat holding its mate ready for the penetration. She reached up and grabbed his forearm, digging her nails into the hard muscle, but the possessiveness of his bite only continued, savage yet sensuous, and speaking to something deep and equally bestial inside of her.

She rolled her head helplessly to the side and his mouth followed her, his lips dragging along her jaw till he found the soft spot below and behind her ear. He licked her there as his hand came around and embraced her breast, his fingers tracing teasing circles around her nipple as she felt her areola tighten and reach for his touch. He took her hardened bud between his fingers and rolled it back and forth, sending sweet spears of pleasure down to the growing wetness between her legs.

When he broke his caress and stood back, Susan was on fire again, but she looked at him now with the eyes of a tigress, daring him to come and take what was his. She might be his sexual slave, but she was rapidly discovered the power of subservience, and she could sense how excited he was, how hard he worked to keep himself in check as he turned on the VCR and took the remote shutter for the digital camera in his hand.

“No one will se these,” he said. “They will be ours alone. But I want you to remember what it was like when you were so totally mine, when you were without shame or dignity and wanted nothing more than to feel me inside you again. I think maybe we’ll play them the next time we make love. Just to remind you. Now touch yourself, Susan. Show me how hot you are.”

 

[Cherrie]

She didn’t require him to tell her to touch herself; she knew instinctively that this is was what he had brought her here for. His caresses had already ignited her passion; it’s heat burning between her legs with an unquenchable ferocity. She stuck out her tongue wetting her lips seductively, a wicked glow in her eyes, as her hands now cuffed together as one reached down between her parted knees and obeyed his commanded.

Her lips opened once more, this time to let out a soft moan as her fingers found their target. She raised her feet, lifting them onto the front edge of the chair and splayed her knees apart, whilst all the time holding his gaze, feasting like a leech on his excitement as he clicked the camera shutter causing the room to suddenly erupt with light, the twin spotlights flashing with a loud popping sound as they captured the moment forever.

Her fingers nimbly toyed with her clitoris… stroking the tiny nub, teasing it back and forth for his pleasure. Then holding still whilst he pressed the shutter once again.

“That’s it Susan,” he encouraged softly. “Make love to the camera.”

He saw the dejected look as she stared back at him, not realizing that it was he and he alone that she wanted to make love to… not the inanimate object that he now held in his hands. She held out her arms in front of her, imploring him to remove the cuffs, her eyes pleading for the feel of his touch once again upon her naked flesh.

“Please Elliot, “she begged, gesturing for him to release her. “I want so much to please you but I can’t move. Set me free Elliot…set me free and I’ll do anything you ask.”

Her plea sounded so innocent, so strangely pathetic. Every instinct told him that it would be a mistake to release her. Already he could see the smoldering animal passion in her eyes; feel the pain from his arm where she had clawed it earlier like a rabid vixen. He had never seen her like this, had no way of knowing that he had already awoken the sleeping beast that lurked deep within her, a beast with an insatiable hunger that he knew was going to be difficult to tame.

The very thought inflamed him, setting the blood coursing through his veins, the animal craving that she now felt for him contagious… filling the room with the musky odor of pure carnal lust. If ever he wanted her it was at that particular moment, the temptation to just throw away the camera and fuck her like the beast she had become was almost overpowering. He realized that it was going to take all of his will power, all of his cunning to regain control and tame the alley cat that he had unleashed.

“Please Elliot,” she implored him once again, her sweet manner masking the urgency of the request.

Reluctantly and against his better judgment, he moved forward and un-clipped the leather buckles at her feet, his stern expression indicating that this was going to be his only compromise.

Susan relaxed a little, content in the knowledge that she had won from him this small concession. She leaned back swinging her legs across the arms of the chair, opening them to their fullest, her cunt fully on display. A lewd smile crossed her face as the spotlights popped again.

“Now I will show you what a naughty girl is willing to do for her master.”

She reached down between her out stretched legs, her fingers gripping the soft pink flesh of her outer cunt lips and lewdly splayed them apart, holding them there whilst Elliot clicked the camera shutter, capturing on film her moist little bud as it sprang forward into view. She felt his excitement radiate towards her, its brutish potency urging her on as her fingers gently encircled her clitoris and began flicking it from side to side. She writhed in the chair, the cushion beneath her sopping from her dampness as she inserted a finger into her cunt and then slowly withdrew it. She watched him through half closed eyes as he mopped the perspiration from his brow and licked his lips like a cat tasting cream.

She felt a thrill of excitement run along her spine, knowing that what she was doing pleased him. Slowly she inserted her two middle fingers up to the knuckles and pulled open her entrance; cruelly splaying the skin apart and holding her cunt open as if for his inspection.

Elliot moved closer his camera shutter firing off continuously, its all-seeing lens a witness to her depravity. He felt his erection, its thick shape clearly defining its presence, pressing hard against the material of his pants, as it convulsed and throbbed with desire. Her soft moans giving way to unadulterated cries of pleasure above the popping of the studio lights threatening to drive him insane with animal lust.

Without taking his eyes from her, he reached over and picked up a large black dildo from the table and offered it to her, noting the wicked glint in the corner of her eyes. She reached out her hands and gripped its shank, pulling it towards her face, her soft lips kissing at its end as though greeting a long lost lover. She stared back at him, daring him to say something as her tongue licked along the hard rubber shaft, before placing it into her mouth. She held it there, the whiteness of her teeth against the black rubber almost surreal, a soft purring sound coming from deep within her throat, as her hands returned between her legs. He watched in fascination as she rubbed her fingers along her slit, coating them in her own juices and then bringing them up to her face and smearing them onto the dildo.

So swift was her movement…so rapid the penetration, that only the developed film could possibly hold testament to its speed, as Susan in the blink of an eye plunged the dildo brutally between her legs. She cried out, her screams of pain and pleasure filling the room, the sounds awesome ferocity searing at his ears and causing the hairs on the back of his neck to hackle and rise. It was the scream akin to that of some wild demented beast caught in the hunters trap.

Elliot felt his fingers trembling as he worked the shutter of the camera, its black eye recording every detail of Susan’s debauchery. Already the ache between his loins becoming unbearable, his unquenchable desire for her growing stronger. At this particular moment his lust for her held no bounds but he knew he had to hold back for a little while longer. Whatever had suddenly taken possession of his randy little slut held him spellbound? The ferocity that she now worked the dildo in and out of her cunt, held him captivated as though she was planning her own self-destruction.

For one brief moment Susan looked up at him, a small hint of recognition registering in her eyes. He saw the look of apprehension on her sweat soaked face, her hesitation as she slowly removed the black rubber from her bruised cunt as if awakening from a distant dream. It was only a fleeting look, lasting perhaps only a second or two, but it was haunting. She held out her arms towards him once again with the dildo clutched in her hand like a dagger, its black shaft now glistening a creamy white under the studio lights.

“Release me Elliot, “ she pleaded, her breath coming in short gasps.

“No.” came his firm response.

Susan rose to her feet, the melancholy expression on her face turning to that of shame at the thought of what he’d just held audience to, the way in which she had so easily thrown caution to the wind, exhibiting and fucking herself sore for her own self gratification. She threw herself at his feet, bowing her head so that he wouldn’t see the despair behind her eyes at being such a selfish slut and raised her hands.

“Please Elliot I’m begging you.”

Her cries seemed strangely pitiful after what he had just witnessed. ‘Where was the seductress, the wild tigress that only a few moments ago had attempted to fuck herself into oblivion?’ He reached down and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her to her feet and crushed his lips against hers, his nostrils flaring involuntary as they caught the odor of the animal musk that emanated from her sweat soaked body. His senses reeled, ignited at her scent, and causing the primal instinct that he carried deep within to arise. He too held a sleeping beast inside; one that he knew could easily out match hers…one with an even stronger appetite.

He picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the cot in the corner of the room and threw her roughly across it. She landed awkwardly, banging her chin down hard upon the iron headboard causing her front tooth to bite down through her bottom lip. The sight of her blood spurred him on even further, his animal passion unleashing its fury as he dragged her onto her knees and fastened the manacles, binding her wrists to the iron headboard.

Instinctively Susan splayed her knees apart and raised her buttocks high into the air panting as she waited for her master to mount her like a bitch on heat. She heard the sound of tearing cloth as Elliot in his fury tore the shirt from his back and discarded it onto the floor, his pants quickly following. She licked her lips in anticipation, tasting the blood on her tongue, feeling his hot breath upon her buttock cheeks. She relaxed her muscles as he had taught her, ready for the brutality of his first thrust when it came. She could feel her own wetness running down the inside of her thighs, her cunt lips distended with blood, standing open like the gates of paradise ready to welcome the intrusion…ready for her lion to mount!

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He’d watched the slut emerge from the woman he knew like a lewd butterfly emerging from its cocoon, like a flower bursting into obscene bloom. He saw her claim her sexuality, grab onto it with both arms and wrap her long, slim legs around it and hold it close to her, without shame and without a thought for her own dignity. This was the woman he wanted her to be: this was the power of a woman in the full flood of her sexuality, rising from the ashes of her surrender. His cock throbbed against his belly with need for her, he felt the primal beat of his blood in his veins. The sight of her empty cunt pulled at him as if he could feel her vacuum even from here. He held onto the remote shutter control for the camera and tried to concentrate on this transformation before him, afraid to let go.

He’d watched her impale herself with the ugly, brutal dildo. He knew she’d hurt herself, but he knew too that the pain she’d felt quenched some deep ache inside her. She was ready now, ready to do anything he wished no matter how lewd or degrading. The face of a lady, the soul of a slut. He felt a chill down his back and felt his own nipples get hard.

He couldn’t resist her any more. He’d gone to her and pulled her from the chair, thrown her down upon the bed like a pile of rags and locked her wrists to the iron headboard. Immediately she got to her knees, pressing her breasts against the bed and cocking her hips up to him. His fingers were shaking so with need that he finally just ripped his clothes off. As she watched him with eyes glazed with lust he saw the trickle of blood running from her injured lip, and it set off something deep and animalistic in him. She looked like she’d been beaten, as if he’d taken the rage of his lust out on her with his fists, and yet she was such a hungry whore that she’d crawled back to him and taken the subservient position of an alley cat: chest down, hips up and waiting.

Her pussy was hot pink with excited blood, and he could see the pool of viscous liquid between her engorged lips. As he watched she must have flexed herself inside, for her cunt winked at him, blew him a little kiss, enticing him inside, and a thick strand of her juice spilled from her lips and hung like a drop of dew from the petal of a rose.

He knee-walked up behind her, took his cock in his hand and slapped it against the welts on her ass. He was huge, bigger than he’d ever seen himself, and his prick felt terribly heavy and slightly numb. He could feel the semen aching in his balls, the pressure in his prostate, and knew he was over-excited. Her asshole was still distended from her recent fucking there, and he could have taken either opening, but her cunt was open too, like an exquisite flower dripping with nectar, and his prick pulled him towards her.

“Agggh! Oh yes!” she screamed when he entered her, pushing deep in one savage thrust that brought his balls swinging against her clit. She was instantly filled, satiated with dick, stuffed and stretched by his amazing hardness. More than that she was conquered, possessed. She felt his weight against her buttocks, saw his arms holding himself up as he bathed his prick in her salacious heat

His hands came around beneath her and she felt the weight of his body on her back. He filled his hands with the softness of her breasts, spread his fingers around her nipples and squeezed his fingers together, pinching them, but Susan was at the point where nothing hurt anymore: it was all glorious sensation, and if he’d taken a bull whip to her she still would have thrust her ass up to the pain, desiring more.

He began to fuck her, so hard and with such savagery that she had to grab onto the headboard to keep her face from being driven into the wall. He dug his toes into the mattress for leverage and used her tits to pull her back against his invading cock, time and time again. She loved the sound of his belly slapping against her asscheeks and the way his fingers dug into her sensitive breasts. He rode her like he owned her, like she was nothing but a cunt to him, and she loved it. She didn’t have to fuck him, didn’t have to make it good for him. She just had to kneel there and take it, let him steal his pleasure from his body, rob her blind.

“You gorgeous slut!” he hissed down at her. “Bitch! Cunt! You love my big prick in your pussy don’t you? You can’t get enough. You ass, your cunt, your mouth, you don’t care where I put it, do you?”

She snarled back at him like a wildcat, tasting her own blood. She’d never been fucked like this, and for a moment she thought back to what she’d thought of as good sex, of the men who’d been so gentle and considerate, of the soft kisses and tender ministrations of their fingers on her, and yet all that seemed like teenage petting compared to what she felt now: totally sexual and uninhibited, desperate in her need to be brutalized. His lust enveloped her like a fog. No one had ever needed her so much, and it thrilled her to feel how he put all the power in his powerful body into driving his prick into her cunt.

He let go of her breast and his hand found her clit. He took it between his fingers and began to squeeze it in time to the movements of his big prick inside her. Susan cried out. It was too much, more than she could bear, and she felt her orgasm sizzling over her overstretched nerves. It wasn't fair; it was cruel the way he was making her come, squeezing it out of her, demanding that she let go.

“Aggghhhh!” she cried out. Elliot grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her back to bow down upon the mattress so his powerful thrusts made her nipples scrape against the cheap blanket as her tits swayed from the brutal force of his fucking. Her pussy clamped down on him and she licked the blood from her lip as this final indignity sent her off into sexual heaven. Dimly she felt his thick cock grow thicker inside her. She felt him throb and heard him groan deeply and then felt his prick pulse as it shot its hot cream into her, each burst taking her higher into the realms of her masochistic pleasure.

*****
“I have something for you,” he said later as she emerged from the bathroom.

He held out a jewelry box and she paused before she took it from him and opened it up.

Inside was a gold chain bearing a gold lavaliere that said, “Slut.”

“I wouldn’t wear it to work,” he said, “But you’ll wear it tomorrow night when we go out. We’re going to a special club I belong to, a club where men take their subs to show them off.”

He took out his wallet and withdrew five $100 bills. “You’ll go and buy yourself something suitable. Something nice and sexy, maybe a leather of latex teddy that shows your breasts. Something that gives me ready access to those parts of you I might need. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

 

[Cherrie]

‘A club where men go to show off their Subs!’ He left the words ringing in her ears as he closed the door and quickly departed. She heard the door slam, the wrinkles appearing on her brow as she puzzled over what he had just said and the so many questions that were running through her head that he had left unanswered.

She picked up the small red jewelry box from the end of the bed and carefully removed the intricate gold chain, holding it up to the light between her fingers for closer examination. Her heart began to beat faster; her emotions stirring them selves up as though being put through a blender as she read the word engraved on the lavaliere…a word that she found strangely exhilarating, it’s simplicity ironically summing it all up. She tried hard to suppress the excitement that welled up in her throat as she repeated the word over and over like a naughty schoolgirl reciting a poem, hearing its loud echoes bouncing of the stark walls and reaffirming what she already knew…she was a ‘Slut’

It was with this thought still swimming around in her head that she eventually kicked off her shoes and collapsed across the bed in the safety of her own apartment. She felt like hell, every muscle in her tired body aching, screaming out for the merciful release that only sleep could provide. Outside she could already hear the garbage trucks busy at work: their noisy diesel engines and the loud clatter of the skips, announcing to the city that it was time to get up.
She rolled over onto her back and picked up the bedside phone and dialed the office, leaving a message on Jackie’s answering machine.

“Jackie…Susan here. I’ve had something unexpectedly crop up…domestic problem at home,” she lied. “I’m taking the day off…so have a good weekend and I’ll see you Monday.”

Replacing the receiver, she sat up drawing up her legs close to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, feeling uneasy at having to lie. It was as though she was playing truant from school and would later have to provide a note from her mother explaining her absence. It was only Elliot’s words about her becoming an office drudge that prevented her from picking up the phone and telling them that she would be coming in after all.

‘Oh my sweet Elliot’ she sighed, ‘what is to become of me?”

It would only be in her dreams that she could ever find the answer, as her eyelids grew heavier Susan yielded her weary body at last into the welcoming arms of sleep.

****

It was several hours later whilst relaxing in the soft leather chair at the beauty salon, that Susan finally regained some semblance of her former self. The few hours’ sleep that she had snatched had been sporadic, leaving her with a pounding headache and a body that felt as though it had gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. It had taken Colette: her favorite beautician plus two of her assistants, nearly three hours to drag her back from the edge of the grave. Sitting back with her foot raised up onto a small pedestal. Susan waited patiently for the nail polish to harden whilst surveying their combined handiwork in the mirror and then nodding her approval. Colette had done an excellent job in disguising the slight swelling that had blown up around her bottom lip: her skillful application with the lip liner leaving her nothing more than a slight pout, which Colette remarked ‘looked kind of sexy.’

There was no doubt in Susan’s mind when she finally left the salon, making her way down the street towards Denzils Couture’s, that the girls had worked magic and had all earned the generous tip that she left for them. Now all she needed was the co-operation of the ‘blue rinse ‘ queen at Denzils to complete her transformation.

The bell above the door caught her by surprise once again as she pushed open the door and entered the little shop. Everything was as she remembered; the mannequin still staring motionless out into space, its dead eyes like that of a cold fish, the musty smell of lingering dust still hanging in the air and the lighting so dim as to make her squint her eyes half closed in order to see anything at all.

“Hello,” she shouted, her eyes glued to the velvet curtain at the back of the shop, completing her sense of deja’-vu.

On cue the familiar face of the old queen popped his head from behind the curtain and minced his way like a music hall diva over to the counter. Susan noticed the swollen bags under his eyelids still wet with tears, the crumpled tissue held clutched in his effeminate fist, all bearing testimony to the fact that he’d been crying. It was with some resistance that she stopped herself from wrapping her arms around him, her motherly instinct threatening to take control.

“Can I help you Madam?” he sniffed.

“Have I come at a bad time?” she asked sympathetically.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well you seem upset…I can always come back later if …”

“No I’m fine my dear,” he lisped, “it’s just that I’ve got a thing about Leanardo di Caprio, and watching him die like that…such a waste. It always has the same effect on me no matter how many times I watch the movie.”

“Oh you’re watching a film,” smiled Susan, the penny suddenly dropping.

“Titanic,” he replied, wiping away the teary residue from his cheek with the back of his hand.

“Mmm good film…made me cry too.”

“Now how can I help you Madam?” he asked politely, the businessman in him rising once more to the fore.

“Well I came in here a couple of days ago and purchased a few…”

“I’m sorry…we don’t give refunds,” he suddenly interrupted. “Not without a valid reason and off course… a receipt of purchase.”

Susan tried hard to suppress the chuckle that was building up inside, as she watched the expression of indignation appear on his powered face. She had only ever seen that expression once before, many years ago when her mother had taken her to dine at her first French restaurant and Susan had made the mistake of telling the waiter that her Steak- Tartare hadn’t been cooked!

“No…no I think you misunderstand,” she giggled at last, “I’m here to purchase something else…something special.”

The ‘something special’ seemed to galvanize the queen into action. Susan watched the familiar twinkle return to his eyes, a small sparkle of recognition lighting his face.

“Ahh your Elliot’s friend…I thought I recognized you.”

The very mention of his name sent a delicious thrill running down her back.

Susan carefully explained why she was here and what she wanted. She felt no embarrassment at confiding in the old queen, who by this time regarded her as an old friend and insisted that she call him Jimmy. For the rest of the afternoon, Susan was subjected to what could only be described as a third degree, with Jimmy wanting to know every gory detail and somehow managing to drag from her things that would even have made a whore blush with shame. He listened to her intently, soaking up every detail and occasionally acknowledging his interest with a raised eyebrow or slight nod of the head, reminding her of a high court judge sitting at the bench.

“You lucky bitch! I wish I could find a man like that,” he remarked later as he carefully wrapped up her purchase and wrote out the receipt.

“My only advice my dear, is to be careful…be very careful. One doesn’t get something for nothing in this world…one day the piper has got to be paid.”

****

His words still hung in her ears as she sat at home several hours later waiting for Elliot to arrive: Her heart thumping inside her chest like a distant drum pounding out a warning as she glanced into the mirror for the hundredth time. The leather bodice, ‘A Westwood Fantasy’ as Jimmy had so lovingly referred to it, gripped her contours as though she had been poured into it. The whalebone stringers gripping her flesh and then pushing it upwards, molding her figure until it threatened to spill out over the half cups that supported her breasts, giving her a cleverage that would arrive in a room seconds before she did. The accompanying skirt, one that Jimmy had also suggested left nothing to the imagination and was nothing more that several layers of black raffia styled lace bunched together and then held in place around her hips by a thick band of black ribbon. A pair of jet-black fishnet stockings and a leather thong completed the outfit.

The ‘sex goddess’ that brazenly stared back at her from the mirror was not the Susan she recognized. The image belonged to someone else…someone who was willing to be exhibited for a mans pleasure…someone willing to be fucked and defiled in every crave way possible. A wicked smile spread about her lips as she read the word once again on the gold chain that hung tightly around her neck…Slut. She relaxed a little content in the knowledge that tonight was going to be special. Tonight Elliot was going to announce to the world…she’s mine!

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He made it a point to avoid looking at her when he picked her up because he was quite frankly worried about getting side-tracked and spending the night at her apartment. He’d come to appreciate Susan’s new erotic talents and appetite, and, though she might not be aware of it, he was a bit concerned that she was beginning to control his own behavior through her submission to his own desires. She was hardly in a position to know it yet, but a submissive can rule real power in a D/s relationship, especially with a master as driven and passionate as he was. Just as he’d predicted, her submission gave her an uncanny strength.

He’d brought her a special velvet cape to wear, very dramatic, and capable of concealing her entire person on the street. He told her to put it on while he waited in the hall, and he didn’t turn and greet her until he heard the sharp rap of her heels on the tile floor. Then he turned and looked at her.

She’d been extravagant with her makeup, but it looked very good on her, the blue eye shadow and bright red lipstick, and despite the cape and his pledge to himself, he had a strong temptation to force her to her knees then and there and at least take her mouth. He always reacted this way when aroused. The need to dominate and possess, to strike out at that which caused him such need ran very close to the surface.

Instead he just took her arm and steered her downstairs to the car. He’d brought the Jaguar this time, an antique, long and low, luxurious and intimate. He waited until they were out on the street and then, when they’d stopped at the light he’d turned to her.

“Open the cape. Let me see what you look like.”

Susan’s sense of drama was no less acute than his own, and she parted the cape, showing him her near-nakedness, her flesh cinched in cruelly by the thin, glossy leather. He sat there looking at her, the powerful engine thrumming under the hood. The leather was as shiny and smooth as the polished hood of the car. Around her pale neck he read the word “Slut”.

He put out his hand and ran it over her cheek, over her throat, down over her breasts and over the tight, smooth leather. His eyes never left hers, and he could see the expectation there.

“Spread your legs, Susan,” he said, and she did as she was told, sliding down in the seat slightly. His hand went between her thighs and she hissed as he ran his finger down her slit. She was already wet.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, taking a box from his pocket. Inside was a white plastic egg, no large than a golf ball. It had a thin wire dangling from it, a couple inches long. “It’s a vibrating egg. Remote control. I have the controller in my pocket.”

He reached into his other pocket and took out a tube of KY jelly. He applied the jell to the egg and then handed it to her.
“Put it in,” he said.

Susan took it from him, her heart pounding. She had given him control of her body in private, but this time she would be in public with him, and with the vibrating egg he would have absolute control of her without even touching her. She looked at him for a moment, then lifted one leg onto the leather seat, held herself open, and worked the egg inside of her.

It was cold and she gasped as it slid inside of her. The little wire hung from her pussy like the string of a tampon, put otherwise the device was inside. She felt deliciously full, but not uncomfortable

Elliot pulled out into traffic again and drove steadily, steering the car into an industrial district where the streets were dark and the blank windows of factories and warehouses stared at them. There was no one on the street; not a soul. He drove down under a viaduct and pulled into the lot of a solitary two story building whose windows were painted black. The only sign of life were the cars parked outside a single blue light hanging over the door way.

He parked the Jaguar and cut the engine. Susan looked at him, ready to exit the car, but suddenly he hit the switch in his pocket and the egg jumped inside her and began throbbing, sending the most obscene sensations through her. She fell back against the seat and closed her eyes as the steady throbbing echoed through her body. “Oh God,” she moaned.

He increased the speed of the egg and she instinctively reached for his leg and dug her nails into him, biting her sore lip against the waves of lewd pleasure that swept over her. Reflexively her hips began to grind against the leather seat and she gave herself over to the pleasure of the thing humming inside her. She opened her eyes to see Elliot studying her, the hot fires of lust in his eyes. His face come down to hers and he kissed her, and Susan let her sudden excitement spill into her kiss. She sucked his tongue and drove hers into his mouth, and when she felt his hand on her breast she drove her chest against him, needing more sensation. If he kept this up she knew she was going to orgasm.

Then he abruptly turned it off. Susan’s body relaxed and she sat there gasping for breath, trying to focus her eyes. Elliot was smiling at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re aroused. You’re going to be the most beautiful woman here.”

He got out of the car and walked around to her side, opened her door and helped her out, a perfect gentleman. Susan’s legs were weak and her nipples were hard behind the snap-off leather panels of her corset.

“Just do as I say,” he said to her as they approached the door. “Do exactly as I say and things will be fine.”

He knocked and a panel on the door opened. Eyes peered out, looked him up and down, then heavy bolts shot back and the door swung inward.

Susan hadn’t know what to expect, but it was very dark inside. There was a central bar that was lit with overhead spotlights, and there were tables around the room lit only with dim candles. It might have been an unusually dark nightclub except that the women there were wearing latex and leather, had chains around their necks and gags in their mouth, and the men held riding crops and whips of various sorts.

The Doctor took her cape and tossed it to a topless woman wearing nipple clamps. The coat check girl no doubt. Susan stood up tall on her impossible heels and felt all eyes turn to her. She felt a thrill of shame and excitement, knowing that all these men and women were seeing her as Elliot’s slut: his slave and fuck toy.

He took her arm and steered her towards the bar where he helped her up on a stool.

“Turn around and face the room,” he told her. “Let everyone see how beautiful you are.”

Before she could respond he turned her around and she looked out into the sea of eyes in the darkness. Just then Elliot his the switch and the intense vibrations started in her pussy.

 

[Cherrie]

She clamped her legs closely together, the muscles at the top of her thighs flexing in sporadic rhythms as they involuntarily tightened and then relaxed in time to the music that blared out from the two corner speakers positioned above the bar. She felt Elliot lightly touch her arm, a contact almost imperceptible amongst the many sensations that rang throughout her body, but a touch never the less that married together with the salacious grin that now split his face…informed her that he was in complete control.

She could feel her composure ebbing as the waves of pleasure started to build themselves up to a crescendo, the dull throbbing from deep within her cunt threatening to take complete control over her body. Thrusting her hand down between her legs, she clamped it tightly to her crotch: a soft moan escaping from her lips as she felt the vibrations that emanated through her damp leather thong lick at her finger tips like a hungry snake.

As suddenly as it had started…it stopped. Elliot had clicked the switch in his pocket leaving her hovering on the brink, quietly observing her turmoil… watching the build up of her emotions and then denying her their conclusions as if casually turning off a television set. He met her stares as she turned around to face him; her big green eyes reminding him of the puppy he once owned, as they desperately searched his face for any tell- tell sign that she meant more to him than just a mere toy. For a moment it was as though she had lost herself, his black eyes staring back at her threatening to suck in her very soul and drown her with their dark corruption.

“Elliot,” the words wouldn’t come, she had said his name as though the very sound itself would conjure up the courage to say what she really felt. To let him know that although afraid she was a willing partner, ready to go wherever he chose to lead her no matter how dark the path.

“I know Susan,” he answered, as though his thoughts had been fused together with hers. “It can seem a little daunting at first, but you’ll soon get the hang of it. Just look upon it as another door opening. Here…get this inside you...it’ll loosen you up.”

“Like the last thing you told me to put inside?” she teased, a semblance of her old self at last returning.

She took the tumbler from his hand and raised it to her lips, downing its contents in one gulp and then grimacing as the hot fiery liquid hit the back of her throat and burnt its way deep into her belly.

“Christ Elliot…what the hell was that?” she choked.

“Good isn’t it?” he replied.

“Good…it’s bloody lethal!”

“Ahh Susan, like everything in life…it has to be savored slowly in order to be fully appreciated.”

She saw an opening and readied herself with a smart Alec remark but thought better of it: The melancholy way he was staring off into space told her that now was not a good time to be flippant, besides she needed time to catch her breath properly… to recover before he hit the switch again. She wondered if he realized what it was like, what the anticipation of ‘waiting for the hammer’ to fall was doing to her insides.

He took a long mouthful from his tumbler and then with a nod of his head indicated for the bartender to refill their glasses. Susan noticed that he had a strange glint in eyes, the look of a King Cobra about to strike. Her intuition proved right, for without warning he quickly spun his stool around to face her and pushed his knees between hers, slowly forcing them apart whilst his arm shot out and encircled her tiny waist, pulling her closer until his kneecap pressed up tightly against her open crotch. She gasped at his sudden audacity, her eyes scanning the room and then filling with embarrassment as she caught sight of the couple watching her from only a few feet away.

“Elliot…I…there’s peop…”

His mouth silenced her protests as his lips unexpectedly crushed against hers causing her cries to drown in the back of her throat, his passion becoming infectious as she felt her resistance melting into his embrace: The sheer panic that had momentarily registered in her eyes turning to one of lust as she watched him press the switch in his pocket once again. She felt the muscles around her cunt suddenly tighten, forcing her to push herself harder against his knee; her bottom squirming against the leather cushion of the stool as she unashamedly ground her pubis hard against the bone of his kneecap. A soft groan tickled itself up from the back of her gullet as she felt him reach down and place his hands beneath the tiny lace skirt, his fingers clawing and then digging their way cruelly along her thighs only to bury themselves into the soft peachy flesh of her buttocks.

All time ceased to exist in the few precious seconds that it took him to reaffirm his dominance over her, marking her out as his property as surely as if he had been a wolf that had pissed against a tree to marks it’s terrain. She couldn’t have cared less how many people were in the room watching her: their greedy eyes feasting off the hot sensuous lust that radiated out across the room, at that moment she only existed for him…and him alone!

Elliot felt a shudder as he released her, reluctantly tearing himself away before the fire from his salacious lust could consume him. He could feel the blood boiling in his veins, his torrid passion becoming almost unbearable in it’s intensity as it fashioned within him an overwhelming desire to posses her there and then… to claim what was now rightfully his for the taking.

He distanced himself away; his eyes carefully watching her as she writhed with pleasure upon the stool, her hands tightly clutching at its chrome legs; a look of pure ecstasy etched across her face. Never before had he encountered such a woman…a woman that was so pliable that she would so eagerly give herself away to his unbridled cravings. It had been with a little trepidation that he had brought her here; unsure as to whether she would be receptive to his needs. That was all but forgotten now as he sat witness to the uninhibited look of gratification in her expression.

She wanted him to stop! To just hit the switch and give her some peace and then just as quickly she changed her mind and didn’t… the very thought filling her with dread! Her whole body a huge clutter of sensations and confusion as the torrents of electricity that built up deep between her groin threatened to spill out and cause her to scream at the top of her lungs. She clenched her hands tightly around the legs of the stool, the pain from her fingernails running in spasms up and along her slender arms as they dug into the hard metal. So lost in the myriad of sensations from Elliot’s magical egg, she failed to notice the inner turmoil that was raging inside her lovers head.

As he watched her climax, he felt the pangs of jealousy for not being buried inside her prickling away at his conscience. It was only a bit of plastic, nothing more than a mere toy, but never the less at that particular moment he looked on it with contempt…another rival to overcome. Swiftly he reached into his pocket and pressed the off button, only his common sense preventing him from plucking it out and hurling it across the room.

“Come Susan, “ he said at last gripping her tightly by the arm, “They’re playing our song.”

His gruff manner filled her with confusion. She could feel his hand trembling as it encircled her tiny wrist, roughly pulling her from the bar and escorting her towards the dance floor. Susan had no way of knowing that he didn’t particularly want to dance, that if he remained seated with no distraction then the monster that was gnawing away at his insides would sooner or later release itself.

It was with trepidation that she obediently followed him, aware that eyes in the room followed their every move. She quickly glanced over her shoulder as they weaved their way through the crowd, her eyes picking out the couple that had so eagerly watched her at the bar and who now seemed to be taking a keen interest in the barstool that she had just vacated.

The man whom Susan judged to be in his late fifties, held a leash in his hand that was attached to a wide leather collar fastened around his young partners neck. The girl was naked apart from a series of thin black leather straps that criss-crossed her body and ended by being pulled grotesquely tight between her legs. Susan bowed her head with disgust, her eyes staring in disbelief as she watched the young girl, who was now kneeling on all fours lapping like a hungry dog at the seat of the empty barstool.

Susan was aware that Elliot had noticed it too: A smug expression of satisfaction spreading across his face as he too watched the girl lick away the sticky residue. She felt a flush of embarrassment in the knowledge that she had been the cause of the young girls degradation. For a second she even felt a slight pang of guilt, feeling sorry for the girl at having to perform such a vile act all in the name of pleasing her master. She quickly turned her gaze towards Elliot, her eyes searching his face for the answer to a question that she dare not ask.

“I told you Susan,” he read her thoughts once again. “Humiliation is not my style. I would never ask…or even suggest that you do anything that you didn’t already want to do.”

He cupped her chin in his hands like a father reassuring a child and stared deeply into her eyes.

“This game works both ways Susan…you give…I give there’s no middle ground. I told you before I would only bring out the best in you…bring your most secret and hidden desires to the fore. Desires that are sometimes buried so deep they are hardly perceptible but are there nonetheless. Humiliation is just not part of the equation…it never was. Now come on lets dance people are beginning to notice.”

She felt his muscular arms around her, his strong reassurances singing in her ears and giving her an inner strength that she didn’t know she had. Despite the fact that she had found it difficult walking through the door of the club this evening, she had willingly followed him like a lamb to the slaughter, her fears at entering into the unknown now brushed aside and scattered to the wind like a distant memory. She felt safe locked in his arms once again, her body melting into his as though it was one.

She buried her head in his shoulder as he slowly waltzed her around the busy dance floor, not daring to look him in the eye less the stupid schoolgirl expression on her face belied her true feelings for the man she had grown to worship…the man she now regarded as her master.

The dance floor had become so packed, that the necessity to actually move their feet had been removed. Instead couples just clung together with their arms entwined and gently swayed back and forth in time to the beat. Susan being no exception but seizing the opportunity to just close her eyes and savor his closeness. The smooth texture from the silk collar of his jacket rubbed gently across her cheek reassuring in its softness, whilst her heart fluttered wildly as she felt his hands creep up the back of her skirt and cup the cheeks of her bottom. Pushing her hips forward she felt his leg slide between hers, her crotch finding his knee once again and she began to gyrate seductively pressing herself harder against him.

Elliot hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her thong panties, slowly peeling them down until they lay across the soft skin of her buttocks. She let out a soft moan as her own hands, far from idle sought out the thick bulge that was pressing hard against her belly.

“Take them off, “ he whispered, his hands pushing the thong further down along the top of her thighs.

Her heart began beating wildly causing her whole body to shake with excitement. She could see the hot lust in his eyes as he waited for her reaction to his request. A request that he knew she would never deny…a request that sent cold shivers running down her back. Quickly her eyes scanned the room like a frightened deer in the hope that no one would notice, but then again not really caring if they did. After all wasn’t that the reason he had brought her here…to show her off…show everyone what kind of a slut he owned?

Slowly she reached under the tiny lace skirt and with a wicked glint in her eyes stepped out of her panties, gathering them up from the floor and then holding them out towards him as though presenting a trophy…

 

[dr_mabeuse]

He took the tiny scrape of her panties from her hand and stuffed them absently into his pocket. It was not her clothes he was after, but her nakedness, and he reached out and pulled her to him again, pulling the back of her skirt up and filling his hands with the naked globes of her buttocks, his fingers digging possessively into her flesh. He pulled her crotch tight against the hard bulge in his pants so that she could feel the heat and throbbing against her, and he kissed her savagely, all his hunger and need coming out and flooding into her with a force that left her breathless.

She knew that all the other dancers and those still seated at the bar could see him mauling her, could see her naked ass and his big hands on her, but that was nothing compared to the waves of passion she was feeling from him. She put her hands on his arms and felt the big muscles tighten with the strain of holding her to him, as if he were trying to crush her into him and fuse them once and for all into a single person.

“Come with me,” he said, breaking the kiss and grabbing her hand, leading her from the dance floor. He led her past the darkened tables where she could just glimpse couples in lewd embraces, men with women’s heads in their laps, women with their knees up as their lovers fingered and played with them; at one table a woman standing with her face against the wall, her gown pulled up around the small of her back by a man in a tuxedo who whipped her ass with sharp strokes from a riding crop. Everywhere there were women with their breasts exposed, their small hands on huge cocks, soft moans and gasps of pleasure and pain.

He pulled her down a dark hallway and into a back room, perfectly black except for one spotlight that shined down upon a curious looking chair. The seat was tiny, just a little shelf, and the arms and legs were massive, the back a thick plank of wood. There were sturdy leather cuffs equipped with silver buckles attached to the legs and arms

Susan’s head was swimming with lust as Elliot sat her in the chair and affixed the cuffs to her ankles and wrists. He worked her skirt up around her hips, peeled the top of her corset down to free her breasts and immediately sought out her nipples with his lips. He hit the switch in his pocket yet again and Susan cried out. Her hips lifted automatically from the chair, blindly seeking something else to fill her.

Elliot took her breast in his hand and squeezed. “This is a custom we have around here, darling, and a great honor. You are mine, aren’t you?”

His question seemed to come from a long ways off and was silly given the circumstances. The vibrations of the egg filled her body and her soul, or so it seemed, and she would have died for him if he’d asked.

“Yes, darling, yes!” she moaned. “I’m yours, all yours!”

“And you’ll do whatever I say? Whatever I desire?”

“Oh God, Elliot! Yes, I’ll do whatever you want! Anything!”

Elliot looked over his shoulder into the darkness and nodded, and through her lust-hazed eyes, Susan saw dim lights set around the edge of the ceiling suddenly flick on, and beneath them she saw the shadowy figures of men sitting about, watching her.

“These are the bachelors,” Elliot said to her. “New members who don’t yet have a slave of their own. They come here to see what it’s like, how it is when a master takes a new slave. They’re going to watch.”

Susan writhed in the chair, her face coloring with shame. She tried to remain still, but the vibrations from the egg wouldn’t let her, and she worked her bottom around on the thin seat, trying to ease the maddening sensations.

This was too much. This was going beyond anything she thought he’d have her do. He was making a spectacle of her, a show, showing her off to strangers. Even as she watched she could see men unzipping their trousers and taking out their cocks, their movements slow and deliberate, their eyes locked on her.

“Elliot, please! I can’t! I…”

But then his lips were on hers again, muffling her protests. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of nipple clamps which he attached to her full breasts, and despite her shame and the lewd thrills running through her body she felt herself swell with masochistic pride to see her breasts in bondage once again.

Elliot sunk to his knees before her and pushed her knees apart. He spread the pink lips of her pussy and his mouth came forward. Susan jerked in the chair as she felt his warm, wet lips on her clit, sucking her tenderly, and she suddenly rocketed into the upper levels of sexual desire, grinding her cunt shamelessly against his face, not caring what she looked like.

Or maybe she did, for as she looked around and saw the men beginning to masturbate, saw their hands slowly pumping their hard and erect cocks, she was filled with the most lewd and exciting emotions. They were all hard, all looking at her, every eye in the place, and she could see the intense, predatory looks on their faces as they masturbated, the gleam in their eyes.

“Ohhhh…” Susan moaned as a thrill of lust ran up her spine. She looked down at Elliot, on his knees before her, eating her cunt with a rapt look on his face, all his attention on the feel of her pussy against his lips. She felt like a queen, a queen in some sort of perverse fairy tale, captured and subjected to a man’s terrible lust. She looked around at the men, saw their hands moving faster and faster on their rampant pricks, heard their muffled sighs and soft groans of vicarious pleasure as they watched her subjugation. She was a slave to Elliot, a slave to all these men. The lavaliere around her neck said “slut”, and that’s just what she was and just what she wanted to be.

The vibrating egg stopped suddenly, and Elliot got to his feet, his face shiny with her own excited juices. She watched him fumble with his belt and drop his trousers, then push his briefs down around his knees.

His cock was huge, standing straight up and drooling with pre-cum. She could see it throbbing for her with each beat of his heart. Elliot reached to the side of the chair and she felt him fumbling with some sort of mechanism, and suddenly the chair fell back into a 45-degree angle, making Susan slide down till her pussy was at the very edge of the small seat.

“Oh yes, darling!” she hissed excitedly. “Fuck me. Fuck your slut! Give me your big prick!”

Elliot held onto the arms of the chair for balance. She was so wet and ready for him that he didn’t even have to use his hand to aim himself. He just punched his hips forward and sent his impossibly hard cock right up into her belly.

“Oh God! Oh fuck!” Susan cried.

Elliot began to fuck her with hard, brutal strokes, slamming his hips into her, making the chain jiggle and pull on her sensitive nipples.

Susan turned her head to the side and looked at the men, the sea of cocks, some now drooling with pre-cum of their own. The men could be heard now, groaning with lust, gasping as they pleasured themselves. And every eye was on Susan, watching her get fucked, seeing her sluthood and degradation.

 

[Cherrie]

She didn’t care that other people were in the room; their salacious stares meant nothing to her… Elliot was now her universe and all she really cared for. It was as if a great burden had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders, releasing her from the bondage of her drab every day existence. He was now the master and she was his to command, all responsibilities for her actions now pressed onto his shoulders.

The feeling of power that surged through her body was euphoric. Gone now were the silly teenage notions of shame or anguish. Her degradation was now complete and filled her with such unbridled lust that it threatened to overwhelm her senses. It was as if all the paths of time had been clearly mapped out, leading her here to this one particular moment.

It was with such thoughts running around inside her head that she felt her orgasm beginning to build itself up, ready to explode and send the shockwaves crashing around the small room.

“Yes…yes!” she urged, no longer caring about her audience, all thoughts and feelings concentrated upon Elliot, as he continued slamming unmercifully into her…his conquest almost complete.

She winced as she felt the sharp tug from the nipple clamps; her whole body a myriad of sensation bucking down hard upon the wooden seat. She wanted to look up into his eyes…to savour the lust that she knew must glow within, but the sight of his magnificent cock pummeling itself back and forth between her legs like a steam piston held her spellbound. She had never watched it before, never been in the position to…not like she was now. It was as if she were another person, one of the many voyeurs perhaps that wanked their cocks as they held witness to her subjugation.

It was only the cacophony of sounds, which suddenly filled the small room that brought her back to reality. Each of the men seemingly spurred on by the other finally ejaculating, their moans and lusty grunts blending together as one and reverberating around the walls in surrealistic harmony. Only one sound was distinguishable above the rest… the scream from her lips as the exquisite waves of pleasure suddenly burst forth from between her outstretched loins and released themselves.

Elliot gripped the arms of the chair tightly, the vibrating egg which he had plucked from her earlier still vibrating between his fingers. He could see…could feel the passion of her release as she writhed and pulled against her bonds as though in the throes of some demonic possession: The spasms that now wracked through her body, emanating themselves into his as he felt the muscles of her cunt tightening and then pulsating in rhythm with her cries. Its grip so tight that for one minute he suspected that she would wish to hold him locked inside her forever.

So physically powerful were her contractions that Elliot found it almost impossible to maintain his savage onslaught. It was as though every muscle in her body had suddenly decided to contract at the same instant whilst congregating into one spot. He realized that to continue would be foolish, her cunt muscles clamping him so tightly that further penetration would be almost impossible. There was little he could do but wait until the waves of ecstasy that washed over her, surrendered her back to him.

Only as the last muscle spasm ebbed away did she finally gaze up into his eyes, a defiant expression of insolence cutting its way across her sweat soaked features: A look of torrid unspent lust still aglow in her steely eyes, as if daring him to finish what he had started.

He leaned forward releasing his hold of the chair and fell across her, his mouth clamping itself around her right nipple, whilst his teeth bit down hard against bare metal and drove the clamp deeper into her tender flesh. He reveled in her torment, her pitiful cries attracting the dark beast that lurked within…inviting it to come and feast.

The lunge when it came drove the wind from her lungs, his sudden cries joining her own as pubic bone crashed against pubic bone, almost jarring her teeth from their sockets. For the first time she felt fear, afraid of the animal she had somehow unleashed, its ravenous craving hell bent on devouring her flesh! She struggled helplessly against the shackles that held her captive, twisting her wrists frantically in a bid to loosen the unyielding straps that held her prisoner to his unbridled lust.

His thrusts became more and more urgent, the wild fire in his eyes blazing into hers, their unprecedented ferocity boring into her naked flesh …defiling her soul with their salacious corruption.

“Fuck me Elliot…Yes…Yes…Fuck your little slut!”

Now it was his turn to moan with degenerate pleasure, her depraved cries provoking the dark beast within. She felt him growing inside her, his thick cock pulsating as it made ready for the explosion that was sure to follow.

“Come for me Elliot…yes that’s it…Fuck it hard.”

She raised her buttocks, straining against her bonds and allowing him the fullest penetration possible, shuddering as she felt his rough pubic hair grind down hard against her over sensitive clitoris. She watched as he brought himself up to full height, his whole body trembling as his powerful hands gripped her hips, his fingers like the claws of an animal cruelly digging into her skin and dragging her forwards.

With one final lunge, he held her fast, his mouth twisting into a grimace of pure ecstasy as the detonation from a million fireworks exploded deep inside her cunt: All the pent up frustrations from earlier releasing themselves in that one glorious and final moment of ejaculation.

He relaxed his grip on her letting her slump back onto the hard wooden seat before leaning forward and kissing her gently on the cheek. He waited for the throbbing of his penis to gently subside… its seed now almost spent, but the feeling of being totally satisfied still eluding him. It was as if Susan had cast some sort of irrevocable spell over him, his insatiable lust for her gnawing away at his insides like a hungry rat. The line between being a dominant and submissive growing thinner each time he held her in his arms.

Susan was ignorantly unaware of the hold she had over him…of the inner power struggle that he fought so hard to control. All she really cared about was the fact that no man had ever come close to mastering her like Elliot had. To make her cast aside childish notions of what was right and wrong, and enable her to become the woman she wanted to be…the slut that was screaming for recognition.

She felt his face trembling against her cheek, his hot torrid breath panting against the skin of her neck as he slowly regained all reason from the clutches of the mad beast that had possessed him. It wasn’t until she heard a soft shuffling sound coming from across the room that she remembered that they were not alone.

Looking up she saw the sea of faces still watching… their blank expressionless eyes unblinking, staring at them both expectantly as though waiting for something else to happen. She felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck, her sixth sense warning her that perhaps her initiation was not yet complete.

Elliot rose to his feet and with a quick nod of his head summoned a young girl to his side. The girl completely naked but for a wide leather collar fastened about her slim neck, knelt before him offering up a white towel which she had slung over her arm.

“You have done well Susan,” he said at last, pulling up his trousers after taking the towel and wiping himself. “Let me introduce you to Patricia…she will take you through the next stage of the ceremony.”

“Next…Elliot…I don’t understand? What next stage?”

With just a tint of wickedness masking his voice, he leant across and gently cupped her chin before replying, “You’ll see my love…now just sit back and enjoy.”