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~The Auction~
©
2002 Jude Mason
"Stand up
straight. Come on, straight I said, feet apart, hands behind your head and
suck in that gut."
The harsh words echoed
throughout the sparsely furnished auction hall as the hushed group looked
on, admiring the latest item for auction. Young, possibly twenty-five or so,
slender without being skinny, well muscled in all the right places and
hairless, save for the hair on his head. He stood quietly, obediently.
He blinked rapidly as his
eyes grew accustomed to the glaring fluorescent lighting; the unforgiving
glare causing each blemish to stand out starkly against his lightly tanned
skin. Sawdust covered the raised block beneath the slave's naked feet. A
shudder gripped him as he struggled to stand taller, straighter as directed.
Almost six feet tall, he towered over the auctioneer, but he dared not raise
his eyes to hers. His blonde head was lowered, eyes fixed on the floor at
his feet as she sauntered around him displaying him for the prospective
buyers.
His erection jutted from
his belly at a sharp upward angle, having been stimulated moments before
being marched onto the auction block. Gritting his teeth against making any
noise, he held perfectly still as the whip slid over his flesh.
The auctioneer stood
beside him, her delicate features and small frame in direct contrast to his
size. She stood barely five feet tall and had a dark complexion. Long,
straight black hair cascaded down her back almost to her slim waist. The
short leather outfit she wore accentuated her curves and the thigh high
boots added inches to her stature; but it was her attitude that made her a
good auctioneer.
"Here's our next item up
for bids, ladies and gentlemen, a fine young specimen that has been trained
by Lady K. He's been instructed in both male and female pleasuring, so would
be a wonderful addition to anyone's stable." The auctioneer tapped the
slave's knees and he quickly spread them wider. Scanning her list, she found
his vitals and smiled when she spoke, "Trained for endurance. It says here
he won't climax unless given a certain key word. Let's see," she glanced at
her sheet once more then added, "He's nearly six feet tall, forty-two inch
chest, thirty inch waist and seven in penis. Uncircumcised as you can
plainly see. He's got several piercings and the slave tattoo on his right
hip."
Passing the sheet of
paper to her waiting assistant, she moved around him. The whip trailed
across his chest, tapping his nipples, which immediately hardened to tight
knots, the small gold rings catching the light. As she walked behind him,
she trailed the whip over his side and down his back, from his left shoulder
to the swell of his buttock. He shuddered visibly as the whip neared the
crease of his bottom, but remained still, obedient to her wishes. Lightly
tapping each buttock, the small brunette auctioneer admired how tight the
muscles were. Trailing the slender whip further downward, she tickled the
back of his thighs before bringing the tip back up between them. His sack
had tightened, pulling his testicles up tight to his body; she caressed them
carefully with the leather causing his penis to jerk upward.
Standing at the back of
the room, I had a perfect view of what was transpiring on the auction block
and the slave pleased me. His blonde head remained downcast as if watching
the antics of his erection. And a lovely erection he had. The foreskin had
peeled back revealing a large round knob of a head, slick with its own
lubricant. I felt my face flush as my imagination took hold while waiting,
impatiently, for the auctioneer to ask for bids.
There were others in the
room who looked interested, but after a few minutes of the auctioneers'
teasing him with the whip, they seemed less so. He was impressive and would
go for a high price, higher than many could afford. A low murmur of gossip
and chatter arose as I watched her do her job.
"Kneel, keep your legs
spread," she said, calmly beginning the routine. He slipped to the sawdust
and spread his knees wide. His hands remained behind his head clasped
firmly. "Crawl to me, on your hands and knees." She backed away from him,
moving him around the stage, displaying him to all.
As he turned away from
where I stood, I saw something nestled between his buttocks. The flesh
coloured base of a plug showed, no doubt inserted by his former mistress as
a reminder of her or an added incentive to do well at the auction. His
behaviour, good or bad, would bring her profit.
"I see you're plugged,"
said the auctioneer. To his embarrassment, she reached down and toyed with
the end of it, while he tried not to move. Twisting the plug, she seemed to
enjoy the flush that coloured his body, and smiled broadly when his hips
began to slowly rock back and forth.
"To the frame. Hurry boy,
run," she snapped.
He hopped to his feet and
raced across the block to where the wooden frame awaited. His erection
slapped painfully against his belly and thighs as he ran and I saw the
relief on his face when he stopped in front of the frame. He dropped to his
knees and spread his legs, resuming the slave position required on the
block.
"Stand. Position yourself
to be bound to the frame." She nodded to her assistant and waited while he
buckled the leather cuffs around the slaves' wrists and ankles. The large
wooden frame was in the shape of a rectangle and would leave him totally
accessible for whatever the auctioneer desired. Nine foot by eight, and
braced to ensure it remained upright no matter how a slave struggled, the
rough oak framework was a popular sales tool. The slave stood quietly while
being fastened spread-eagled to it.
"I’m prepared to take
bids," she said and turned to face the audience. I let my eyes wander over
the crowd and was surprised to see just three or four hands raised. The
beast was a beauty and he should bring a high price. He hung helpless in his
bonds, fearful that his former owner would be displeased.
I'd been leaning against
the wall up until this point, but when the bidding began, I pushed away and
wound my way through the crowd, towards the block. I stopped a couple of
feet away, admiring the view while waiting for the auctioneer to notice me.
I'd been showing up regularly, looking for just the right slave to add to my
household and this one looked promising. Finally, she spotted me and
approached. I motioned for her to come closer, and she hunkered down in
front of me.
"He's voluntarily here,
yes?" I asked keeping my voice low so only she could hear me.
She smiled at my
question, well aware of my quirks and nodded, "Yes, he's here voluntarily.
He sold himself to his owner, but after a few months, they discovered they
weren't well suited to each other. They talked and he wanted to remain a
slave and this is where it led."
"Good enough, put him
through his paces, but don't let him climax please. If I buy him I'd like
him to be very obedient." I returned her smile and felt the gathering of
juices deep inside me.
She rose to her feet and
returned to the side of the framework, waiting for the bids to halt. Several
minutes later, the room grew quiet and she took up her position behind the
slave. With deliberate care, she used her short whip to excite him and bring
his body alive.
He writhed uncontrollably
as she touched him, sometimes striking him, but often little more than a
tender caress. Across his broad back and along his rib cage she striped his
flesh. His inner thighs trembled when the leather traced a line from one to
the other. The pulsing length of his cock didn't go untouched, but quivered
under the ministrations of the well trained auctioneer. Through it all, he
remained silent; though it was clear he longed to beg for mercy. His eyes
brimmed with unshed tears and his mouth hung open in a silent plea. The
buyers became more animated as the torment went on; each lash of the whip
brought a murmur of approval. When she deemed him ready, she laid the whip
against her thigh and once more called for bids. I heard a collective sigh,
as not a few of the women wished she'd gone further.
I nodded my head and
raised my fingers, indicating a bid slightly higher than the last offered. A
large dark haired woman to my left raised hers and offered a bid just a
fraction higher. There was silence for a moment then the auctioneers'
assistant noted two more bids. Another lull followed, as if everyone in the
room held their collective breaths. I nodded again, offering a somewhat
higher bid and cursed under my breath, "Bitch, leave off, this one's mine."
"Ladies, you can't tell
me this fine specimen is going to go for so little. He's worth twice what's
been offered."
The big woman to my left
raised her hand again offering a bid much higher than mine. She looked me
over and smirked, thinking she'd won. I knew her from previous dealings here
and had outbid her on several occasions. Apparently, she didn't want me to
obtain this slave, but she'd soon learn not to test me.
The silence lengthened
until the auctioneer took the hint and returned to the slave's exhibition.
While the bidding had been going on, he'd stared at the floor in front of
his bare feet. His trembling had lessened but as the small woman walked
behind him, it began again. Her whip slipped over his hip and he gasped.
"You may beg or cry out
slave," she said, not unkindly.
"Thank you, Milady," he
whispered.
She used the whip to
excite him, gently moving it over his body as she walked around him.
Touching him softly on the upper thigh then moving behind him, she caressed
just below his buttock. The soft flesh puckered with goose bumps at the
taste of leather. A long slow swipe down the center of his back caused him
to thrust his hips forward, sending his erection swaying towards the
attentive group of buyers. Another, this time along the furrow between his
ass cheeks sent a shiver up his spine. His erection pulsed wildly and pre
cum oozed from the tiny slit at its tip. Moving the braided leather between
his thighs, she tapped it feather softly against his testicles.
I watched, spellbound, as
his body reacted to the touch of the whip. My mouth was dry and with a
tongue that felt thick, I tried wetting my lips. Raising my fingers, I
indicated a higher bid. I wanted this slave. The assistant saw and marked my
offer on the sheet he carried, while scanning the room for any further
interest. Glancing to my left, I glared at my adversary, waiting for her to
bid, and wasn't disappointed when she obliged. I saw this time the look of
frustration behind her motion. She was at her limit.
The sharp crack of the
whip brought my attention back to the block. I'd almost missed his reaction
to it. She'd waited until he was deep in the pleasure of the whip's touch
then carefully placed one sharp stroke. His body reacted with total abandon,
showing us profoundly, his slavery.
He cried out as his body
shuddered and shook, uncontrollable spasms tearing through him. A collective
gasp went through the buyers and bidding resumed. The auctioneer smiled in
appreciation, and while her assistant took note of bids, she slid the whip
over the slave's body.
Once more, I waited for
the bidding to die down before raising my fingers. The bid I made was
substantially higher than the last. I'd been patient long enough and wanted
to have the sale done with.
Faces turned towards me,
some surprised, some unhappy and one angry, but I simply waited. No one
could see the tightening of my nipples beneath the leather bustier. No one
could smell my heat, or at least I hoped not. I knew the auctioneer noticed
my flushed face and while gazing at me, she ran her fingers down the slave's
belly.
He was in an agony of
lust. Unable to rub against anything, his testicles had grown painfully
full. The small hand circled and gripped his shaft, roughly masturbating
him.
"Please, enough, Milady,
I beg." He gasped out, loud enough for most to hear, but she continued to
stroke until his hips matched her rhythm. Withdrawing, she left him sobbing
with need and frustration.
"Do I hear another bid?"
she asked, her eyes moving over the small crowd. Met with silence she
called, "Gone once," waiting a moment before calling, "Gone twice," then,
"Sold, to the Lady Tanis."
My heart leapt at the
final words. The price had been steep, but I was sure he was well worth it
and more.
"You know how to go about
payment and taking custody. Congratulations Lady Tanis; I think you made a
very good buy here." The auctioneer said. "There are some special details
about this one; you'll receive papers to go with him when everything's
finalized. Again, congratulations." She bowed towards me then turned to
retrieve her papers and gather the next item for sale.
Her assistant passed the
manila folder across the table as I counted out the money. I stepped back
and waited while he was released from the frame. I wandered back to my place
at the back of the room, reading the file that accompanied my newest
acquisition. I learned his background, why he became a slave and who had
owned him thus far. There was a list of his exercise schedule, the special
training he'd gone through, and of course, the word he could never say. The
trigger word that allowed, no forced, him to orgasm when spoken.
Moments later, I glanced
up and there he was, knelt at my feet. I could see his nervousness as well
as his excitement, the flush of his skin and the erection he dare not try to
hide. He'd clasped his hands behind his neck, unfamiliar with my protocol,
his knees spread as widely as he could manage. His back was very straight
which brought his head up to my waist. Eyes downcast, he couldn't see my
smile.
"What have you been
called?" I asked softly. I moved around him, inspecting him for the first
time as mine. The feeling was one I'd never get over, exhilarating. When I
laid a hand on his shoulder, I felt the trembling that he couldn't control.
Gently stroking him, encouraging him to be at ease, seemed to help.
"Number 4, Milady." His
voice shook as he answered.
"Well, that won't do," I
said, "For the time being I'll call you Blondie, but that will change when I
get to know you."
"Thank you, Milady," he
replied. His voice had deepened and his trembling had almost stopped. I
slipped my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and enjoying the
feel of him.
"Time to go," I said and
slipped a thin leather collar from the small pouch I carried. It circled his
neck and he shuddered when I locked it on him. "My van is parked by the side
door, precede me." I snapped a leash onto the collar and followed him as he
crawled across the room.
The carpeting cushioned
his knees, but it still took a few minutes to make our way to the door. He
weaved skilfully between people, offering the minimum of disturbance to
them. Once we had to stop to allow a woman to pass in front of him, then we
were on our way again. As we made our way, I saw one more of his numerous
piercings. Behind his testicles, he wore a fair size ring.
I felt my pussy tense.
The possibilities of how and what those three rings could be used for, how I
could bind or constrain him made my mind reel. A tug at his leash halted him
and he sat patiently back on his heels. He waited patiently while I gathered
my cloak and the rest of his gear.
Navigating the three
steps proved bothersome, but manageable. His ass displayed beautifully on
the way down. He placed each knee carefully. The cement dug in cruelly,
reminding him of who and what he was, but he didn't complain and soon we
stopped at the side of the van. Dropping his leash, I opened the door and
stepped to the side allowing him to see his mode of transport.
The blue '85 Ford van was
much larger than the newer ones, providing me with some added features that
might not have been possible otherwise. The back section held a cage
specifically designed to hold slaves for travel. Made of stainless steel
bars, it was three and a half feet square and when locked, the occupant
would be helpless to escape. I'd fixed several leather straps here and
there, supplying myself with whatever amusement I wished at any given time.
A small metal box at the rear also held toys that I felt might prove useful.
I shivered with
anticipation as I unfastened Blondie's leash and caught my image in the
mirror behind the cage. Dark shoulder-length auburn hair and breasts on the
small side, but the nipples were large and sensitive. A tight leather
cincher and thigh high boots added inches to my slender stature; I neared
five nine with the five-inch heels.
I caught him looking into
the mirror as well, catching his first real look at his new mistress. He
noticed my gaze and quickly lowered his eyes, not having permission to raise
them. Fearing my displeasure, he knelt back on his heels and spread his legs
extremely wide, displaying himself. I saw him trembling and at first thought
to discipline him, but then relented. It was only natural for him to wish to
see who owned him.
"Into the cage, quickly
now, I want to get home." I held the small door open and stroked his bottom
as he clambered inside. "Stop," I said as his plug came into view and I
tapped it several times to see his reaction to the stimulus. The muscles in
his ass trembled, but he kept still as I toyed with him. His erection still
pulsed, unfulfilled and his balls were tantalizingly close.
"Good boy, now get in," I
gave his bottom a slap as he climbed into the cage. I didn't secure him,
this time, but let him relax as best he could on the short trip. Fifteen
minutes over winding country roads, and when I pulled into the driveway, I
was trembling. Parking the van behind the house, I took a deep breath then
shut off the engine.
"Kneel," I said and
turned to see that he obeyed me. He was just settling into position as I
turned, his head lowered, his body facing me. His hands moved towards the
back of his head, but I said, "place your hands, palm upwards on your
thighs. That's to be your position when you're told to kneel, don't forget
it."
Dropping his hands to his
thighs he replied, "Yes, Milady." His erection had waned somewhat but was
still firm and I was pleased at its dimensions, eager to try him out.
I climbed out of the van
and opened the door to release him from the cage. I'd parked close to the
lawn so that he wouldn't have to crawl across the rough gravel driveway.
Unlatching the cage's door, I swung it open and reached inside. The flesh of
his inner thigh felt warm under my hand and he trembled as I neared his
groin. He was baby smooth, the skin soft against my palm and when I cupped
his balls, he moaned.
"For tonight only, you
may speak freely." An unusual treat, but one I enjoyed bestowing on new
slaves.
"Thank you, Milady," he
sighed heavily, watching my hand on him. His erection was returning and
tapped against my inner forearm, the soft foreskin peeling slowly back. His
balls felt heavy in my hand and I knew it had been some time since he'd
emptied them of their sticky white cargo. The ring at the back of his sack
fascinated me; I'd never had a slave pierced in such a way before.
Chuckling, I said, "I
think it's time to go inside. It'll be much more comfortable and much easier
for me to get at you." I released him and stepped back, giving him room to
climb out of the cage. His legs had gone to sleep on the way and I allowed a
few moments for him to get the circulation going. Once he could move easily,
he knelt as I'd told him to, making sure he got it right.
"Whenever you approach
someone, or instructed to wait, this will be your position, unless told
differently." I began his training. He'd either learn the rules quickly or
learn that I was patient for only so long. "You're never to look into
someone's eyes or stand in the presence of a free person, or a slave above
you in this house."
"Milady, may I ask
something?"
"Yes."
"How will I know who's
free or above me?"
" You won't until
you've been here for awhile," I replied, leaving him to draw his own
conclusions. I snapped the leash onto his collar and turned towards the
house commanding, "Heel."
He moved into position on
my left side in the grass and crawled at my pace as I headed towards the
back of the large old house. A two story Colonial; the red brick and white
painted exterior hid my dungeon and playroom behind its façade of innocent
luxury. I halted and pointed to the small entrance at the bottom of the
large oak door. "This is your entrance; you're never to use the other."
"Yes Milady," he said
glancing at the small doorway. The only way he could enter my house was on
his hands and knees, as I'd planned. Dropping the leash, I entered, then
closed the door and stood, arms crossed over my chest, waiting. Moments
later the flap lifted and he crawled through.
He glanced around at the
small mudroom and went to his knees, positioning himself as directed. I
reached over and flipped on the light allowing him to learn his territory in
small doses. The slate grey floor tile and the mats for wiping mud off led
to the doorway to the rest of the house. Stark white surrounded him for the
moment, cloaks and leather goods hung from the many hooks adorning the
walls.
I unclipped his leash and
hung it on one of the many hooks then said, "Follow me." The doorway opened
onto the hallway. I turned left and heard him gasp at the dark woodwork and
forest greens I chosen to decorate this part of the house. Splashes of rose
and gold brightened, gave a warm welcoming feel and the plush carpet I'm
sure was a relief to his knees.
I passed two doorways and
entered the third on the right; the room he'd grow to know well if I kept
him for any length of time. The dungeon. I stood holding the door wide for
him to crawl through, wanting to see his reaction. I felt my heart leap at
his recognition of where he was. He stopped dead in his tracks, gaping at
the far wall as I'd planned.
The room was large,
twenty-five by twenty-five and looked as if it was created from rock,
granite to be more specific. Against the far wall stood the St. Andrew's
cross and next to it, a table I'd designed. To the right, in the corner,
hung the sling and to its right were rows of whips and paddles amid other
toys I liked to use; all neatly arrayed according to some secret plan of my
devising. Faux fur covered half of the floor, the rest in what looked like
stone, but was in fact synthetic. The most surprising addition to the room
was the wall to my left. A window, almost the full length of the room,
opened up onto the back garden and offered both light and a backdrop for the
sunken tub. Black marble with gold coloured fixtures and surrounded by a
plethora of plants and towel racks, shelves holding oils and creams. A haven
of luxury I indulged in whenever I could find the time.
Blondie sat back on his
heels, positioned as he should be, but his eyes, rather than downcast, drank
in the room. His wonder made my heart race and I let him gape for several
minutes before clearing my throat. Letting the door go, as he stuttered and
corrected his posture, I walked past him to light a couple of the hanging
oil lamps. That done, I crossed to the window and flicked the outside lights
on.
"Milady," he gasped. I
looked back at him and laughed. He was the perfect picture of astonishment.
Mouth slack and eyes wide, he surveyed his surroundings, his head swivelling
from side to side.
"Position," I snapped.
He lowered his head and
shuddered. The soft fur beneath him both caressed and tickled his bottom.
His testicles brushed against it and he shivered with pleasure.
"I see you enjoy the feel
of fur," I coaxed.
"Yes, Milady, very much
so," he replied, tentatively thrusting his hips back and forth. His nipples
tightened as I watched and the flush of excitement coloured his flesh from
temple to waist.
I stood before him and
unsnapped the crotch piece of my leathers, revealing my neatly trimmed mound
to him for the first time. The scent engulfed him and he groaned, aching to
taste but held by my will.
His nostrils flared and saliva
filled his mouth, the aroma of leather and woman were almost more than he
could bear. A trickle of sweat wound its way from under his arms. His
erection throbbed painfully between his spread thighs.
Turning away, I bent
forward, my bottom inches from him and slipped my hands between my thighs.
The snap at the back clicked quite clearly and the leather strip fell into
my hand. Over my shoulder, I watched him lick his dry lips. Pushing my
bottom back just enough to touch his face, I teased him, before
straightening and going to the sling in the corner. An extra sway to my hips
rubbed the slick lips of my labia back and forth, adding more heat to my
already scalding sex. I felt them, swollen and heavy, as I walked across the
room, honey coating my inner thighs.
Two more snaps at the
center of my chest released my breasts and I stuffed the bits of leather
into my pouch then tossed it onto the table just feet away. The air against
my flesh puckered my nipples. Deep rose tips, button hard and aching, I
reached up and pinched them between my fingers, pulling on the crinkled
nubs. The weight of my breasts suspended by the nipples sent a small shiver
of excitement directly to my clit. A gently but insistent throbbing urged me
to get on with the play.
I climbed into the sling
and wriggled to get comfortable while he watched, spellbound. His hands
clenched as my thighs parted, my booted heels slipping into the loops that
I'd adjusted for my pleasure. Laying back, head cradled in the soft cup,
shoulders supported and held perfectly, I gazed at him. Over the swell of my
breasts, he may or maybe not have seen the smile I offered, right away.
"Come closer," I
murmured. Taking a deep breath, he dropped forward onto his hands and
without taking his eyes off me, he crawled forward. The soft fur caressed
his hands and legs luxuriously, until he came to the edge and I held my hand
up, halting him.
He was close; close
enough for me to see his erection throb and the pulse beat at the base of
his neck. Sweat beaded on his brow and his thighs trembled as he strained to
assume his position, perfectly. He'd placed his hands palm upward on his
thighs and I watched his fingers twitch.
"You like what you see my
pretty Blondie?" I teased. Cupping my breasts, I gently squeezed them
together above the leather I wore. With the tips of my fingers, I scratched
the underside and my nipples tightened even more. Using the flat of my
hands, I smoothed the tight leather from just below my breasts down over my
belly.
"Yes, Milady," he
croaked.
"Good, come just a little
closer," I urged and reached between my thighs. Delicately, I slipped my
index fingers along the outer lips and pressed them outward, displaying
myself. "Stop, right there," I said, and shivered when he halted a foot or
so from me.
His mouth hung slack, his
tongue slipping out to wet lust dried lips every few seconds or so. Eyelids
drooped over passion filled eyes, they closed momentarily and he inhaled my
scent. When they opened again, he gasped. Deep blue eyes widened at the
sight of my index finger slipping between my folds. The slurping sound
seemed loud in the silence of the room as I worked them in and out, slowly
bringing myself to a fevered pitch of arousal.
"Please, Milady," he
implored.
Sliding my fingers along
the seam, circling my clit, sent shivers down my thighs. Prying myself open
even more, I felt my honey trickling towards my anus. Clenching and pinching
my clit almost took me far enough. Shuddering, I pulled my fingers off and
splayed the lips wide.
"Lean forward, just the
tip of your tongue now. Lick me."
Extending his tongue, he
leaned forward to lick me, and pushed his erection across the soft fur. A
low groan escaped, along with an out rushing of air that played over my
splayed sex. His tongue connected and he flicked it across my clit. My
thighs pressed together trapping his face, his tongue where I wanted him
most. And he loved it. Face shiny with sweat, he opened his mouth and
flicked his tongue over as much of me as he could reach.
"Ah, yes!" The guttural
sound of my voice surprised me. I moved my hands to his hair and pulled him
hard into me. "Suck me, make me cum," I panted, my voice almost
non-existent. His lips enveloped my inner labia; his tongue explored my
clenching sex. He scooped the honey I fed him, savouring each drop and
delving for more. Teeth nipped at my bud. His stubbled chin created yet one
more means of arousal and I rubbed his face where I wished. He sucked and
licked at me, his tongue fucking me as deeply as he could.
My thighs trembled and
tensed against his head. Closer and closer, I climbed towards the pinnacle,
feeling it. Arching my back, voice gone but screaming anyway. Toes tingling,
then pointed inside the leather boot. My ass clenched, and he nipped at me,
clit between his teeth, dragged over the tight nubbin. I exploded on his
face. Drenching him with my cream, drowning in the sensation, nothing but
brightness and pleasure surrounded me. Held me, tortured me for minutes as
spasms clutched at his tongue trying to hold onto it.
The long slow spiral
back, I realized I was holding him fast against my pubes. How he breathed, I
couldn't be sure he did, but he didn't fight either. His tongue and lips
felt amazingly soft as he caressed me with them. Drawing out my pleasure, he
fed on my sex.
Raising my head, I
watched his hips move slowly, swinging with the rhythm of his tongue lapping
at me. The bulbous head of his prick had nuzzled a trench in the fur. And
slid back and forth, throbbing with lust, aching for the release only I
could provide. Eyes closed, he was lost in his own private world of
sensation.
Allowing my thighs to
relax gave him enough room to breathe freely. The light dusting of hair was
slick from his mouth and his first breath felt cool against my pubes. I
shivered and stroked his face, then pushed him off me, too sensitive to let
him continue.
"Position," I said.
Trembling, he assumed his
position. His face shone with my cream and he licked his lips. Gaze
dropping, his eyes fixed on his erection. The pre cum oozed copiously from
the slit and he itched to rub it in.
"Can the plug vibrate?" I
asked and he glanced up at me, bewildered for a second.
"Yes, Milady, it can, but
isn't switched on." He quickly lowered his eyes again and was incredibly
aware of the small plug that stretched his anus.
"To your feet," I said
and waited while he complied. "Come here and turn around." His entire body
seemed to tremble but he quickly stood at my side. His bottom faced me,
smooth and sleek. When he spread his feet, the end of the plug showed
itself, the small arrow in black indicated which way was on. His testicles
hung sweetly below, the ring just above them.
"Reach back and spread
yourself for me." Even though I'd cum only minutes before, my heart raced as
he reached back and gripped his buttocks firmly and pried them apart. I slid
my fingers down one arm and over his hand towards the control on the plug.
Its large base held it firmly in place and kept it from shifting or slipping
inside. I tapped on the base and his testicles shifted below, rising and
lowering as if dancing to some unheard tune.
Smiling, I ran a
fingernail over them, chasing them about in their skin sack. The puckered
skin contracted more, pulling them closer to his body. Slipping my finger
through the ring, I tug gently on it and he pushed back trying to follow the
pull. Grasping the end of the plug, I twisted it, then pulled it partially
out. The wider bulge spread his anal ring and his fingers dug into the
flesh, turning white with the effort to remain still.
I slid my free hand
beneath him and held his shaft. It was wet with pre cum and easy to
manipulate, the foreskin providing ample skin to toy with. I slid the excess
skin up and down the straining shaft and tugged it over the bulging crown.
His groans were music to my ears and each shuddering breath he took fed my
arousal.
"How long since you were
permitted to climax?" I asked. I'd begun to work the plug in and out of his
ass, so his reply was shaky.
"Three weeks, Milady." He
was close to sobbing. I ran my finger over the head of his erection and his
thighs twitched. Popping the plug back in, I twisted the control to the
first setting. The low hum seemed to trigger his erection; it started to
jerk in my hand. Gripping the base tightly, I felt his balls move against my
wrist. Tapping the base of the plug sent differing sensations through him
and he could no longer remain as still as he should. He thrust against my
hand.
"You'd like to cum
wouldn't you Blondie?"
"Yes Milady," he
whispered, "Oh, God, please!" Unable to stop the plea, the sob he'd been
trying desperately to hold back followed. I pulled my hand off his cock and
turned the dial up a notch on the plug.
"Stand between my
legs." It took a minute for the command to sink into his lust-crazed mind.
When it did, it took him only seconds to position himself as I wished. The
glistening folds of my pussy drew his gaze and the tip of his cock inched
forward. I glanced down and watched him throb.
"Stop there," I gasped as
the tip of his cock touched me. It twitched and rubbed against my labia,
almost nestling between the slick, satin-smooth lips. "How long have you
been a slave?"
Without taking his eyes
off our connection, he replied, "I gave myself to Mistress K. just over six
months ago. Before that, I knew I was submissive, but had never belonged to
anyone."
Smiling, I thought of his
answer and said, "You're permitted to slip inside me. Six times, you may
thrust, but you may not climax inside me. You will count to five aloud,
between each thrust and when done, you'll pull out and thank me."
His face shot up and he
gaped at me for a moment before he remembered his place and dropped his
eyes.
"Milady, may I begin?" he
asked.
"Yes, now."
He rocked his hips
forward and groaned, then held for a moment buried deeply inside my silken
cunt. I clenched and he sobbed, pulling himself free more quickly than he'd
wished. "One Milady, thank you." The full length of his prick shone with my
slick juices, a long strand of it joined us. Slowly, he eased in one more
time, his eyes closing as he relished the wet folds wrapping around him.
Bottoming out, he held steady for a moment then pulled slowly out. I
clenched again, teasing him as the tip emerged. He shivered and said, 'two,
Milady, thank you." Each time he thrust forward, I answered by clenching my
inner muscles trying to grip and hold him inside. Sweat dripped off his chin
by the time he was done.
"Good boy. Now lean
forward and press your cock against me, not inside." Instantly, he
understood and shifting, pressed the underside of his shaft against my
pubes. His testicles rubbed into my gaping sex and when I clenched he felt
the muscles moving. "I want you to thrust against me, cum on my belly. Your
secret word is 'Sklave' and you may cum now."
"Yes, Milady," he choked
out and began to swivel his hips against me. Thrusting forward and pulling
away, until just the tip of his cock nudged my mound. The hum of the vibe
became lost, as he got closer to climaxing. Growling, his body convulsed,
his balls slapped against my labia. The bulbous head seemed suddenly to
swell larger and he sobbed as the first jet of cum shot forth. The first
glob landed with a splatter on my chest, almost perfectly centred between my
breasts. He drove himself cruelly against me and another stream of spunk
followed the first but with less pressure, landing on the leather covering
my stomach. Three more times, his cock erupted, the creamy fluid dribbling
over the crown and down the shaft.
Gasping, still gently
rubbing himself against me, he shuddered. The foreskin crept forward as his
cock softened, to partially cover the head. Thick strands of cum clung to it
and he still pulsed against me.
I gave him only a moment
or two to enjoy his orgasm. Reaching down, I caressed the long tube of
retreating flesh, rubbing the tip with my thumb. He gasped at the sensation
and would have pulled away if he dared. The slippery soft flesh felt good in
my fist and I worked the skin up and down. Tugging, I pulled his balls
against me and held him captive while I toyed with him at my leisure. I
stroked and pulled at his shaft then tiring of it, I released him.
"You did well Blondie,
now it's time to clean me."
Still gasping and
flushed, he leaned forward and licked at the splotches of cum on the
leather. Once clean, he scooted forward and swiped between my breasts. His
tongue felt hot against my skin as he lapped me clean and I stroked his
face. The long line of his jaw and his cheekbones slid under my fingers.
Caressing him, I began to learn the shape of his bones and the texture of
his flesh. Then winding my fingers through his hair, I gripped tightly and
pulled him against me. His lips flattened on my skin, his stubbled chin
scratched as I moved his face.
I pushed him down,
forcing his face over the leather. Then skin against skin, my lower belly on
his face. Tongue extended still, I held him where I wanted him. Grinding
against the softness of his lips. My clit distended, aching to be sucked.
And as soon as he did, I exploded, drenching him with my sweet nectar. He
drank deep of me, savouring the taste of his lady. My thighs tightened
around his face, capturing him, holding him. I ground him hard on me.
Screaming my pleasure, holding him to extend it, I used him.
Soaring for minutes then
coasting back to reality, I felt his tongue inside me. I clenched on it,
gripping the small intruder. I watched him then, my hand still locked in his
hair, but not pulling or guiding. When I became too sensitive for his touch,
I pushed him away.
He knelt between my
thighs, his face shiny with my juices. The smile he had was contagious and I
smiled back.
"Cheeky boy, Blondie." I
murmured. "Come here; spin around so I can turn the plug off." He was quick
to obey and I was pleased to see how quickly his erection returned. I toyed
with the plug, twisting and turning it, pulling it partially out then
sliding it back into place. Then swatting his ass, I turned it off and
laughed at how he jumped at the small sharp pain.
"You'll do well here boy,
but Blondie won’t last long. You need a name," I sighed. "Bath first, I'll
think about it. Through there, prepare my bath."
"Yes, Milady," he replied
and quickly on hands and knees he headed for the door.
The end
Sklave is the German word for slave
All rights reserved. Reproduction in any form is prohibited
without the written approval of the author
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