Saturday, February 26, 2011

More Kaitlyn

She wondered how long he'd make her wait.  Logically she knew that waiting for him was part of the game but it was really working on her anyway.  The longer she laid there the more thoughts she had about what he might do to her.  Finally she heard him moving across the room.  She hadn't heard any doors open, but she knew he was there.  She jerked when he touched her, running his hands over the small of her back and slipping them down across her ass cheeks.  "Good girl Kaity.  I've been waiting all week to have you like this you know.  But I hear you were sloppy and lazy when you came downstairs, so we'll have to take care of that before we have fun, right?" 
 "I'm sorry," she said frantically, afraid of what he might do to her.  "I didn't know." 
"No, you didn't, but you should have.  You're a bright girl Kaity.  If you need direction, ask for it.  Well, beg for it is more accurate.  Otherwise, use your head, remember your role.  Understand?" 
"Yes, I understand.”  She was shivering now and wondering what might happen next. 
 "So, we'll start the nipple clamps now instead of later and you'll remember next time won't you?" 
 "Oh yes, I'll remember, I promise." He came around to the side of the table and admired the breasts hanging on each side of the support beam.  He settled a flat clamp on each tit, ignoring her wince and moan.  The adjustable screw was set tighter than anything that she'd ever played with.  She recognized immediately that everything she'd done before had been playing.  Brad wasn't playing.
"And now we'll add some nice jingly bells.  They'll tinkle when you jump.  Fun right?"  A moment later she felt the weight added.  She supposed they weren't extremely heavy, but they felt like bricks attached to her sensitive nipples.   It seemed the rope binding was making the pain even more piercing.  She squirmed a tiny bit, trying to adjust to something more comfortable but she couldn't move much and each tiny shift made the bells ring lewdly.  Meanwhile he had moved back to her ass and was stroking it again, enjoying the feel of her skin.  "You know what?  We're missing something.  You need some jingle bells here too." He grabbed her pussy lips abruptly and put similar clamps on them.  She yelped at the pinch and then set her mind to try not to squeal so much.  He was reaching under the table and attaching a chain to the nipple clamps.  Dear god, that was yet a few more ounces pulling on them.  They were connected to a chain at her cunt.  She closed her eyes, taking it all in. 
Her eyes snapped open and an unintelligible sound escaped her mouth.  He had landed something hard and flat on her ass.  The pain burned through her.  Before she could catch her breath, another came crashing down.  Soon her entire ass was peppered with solid slaps of the hard leather paddle.  In the background she heard the jingle of the bells from her tits and cunt, ringing non-stop as he worked on her ass.  The pinches from the clamps had settled into a throbbing now and paled next to the pain in her rear.  She felt the burning, much worse than anything she'd ever imagined.  Just when she thought she could move to a higher plane and relax into it, he changed gears and started hitting in one spot in the middle of her left ass cheek, over and over, harder and harder.  She was whimpering and tears were running down her face. 
He paused lightly running his fingers over her rear, feeling the heat radiating off her skin.  She moaned when he touched her and then bit her lip when he slid his fingers down along her crack, trailing them lower and lower and finally dipping them into her cunt.  He pulled them out and brought them around to her face, showing her the juices dripping from them.  She took a breath and reached out her tongue, knowing without being told it was her job to clean him.  He smiled and stroked her hair with his other hand while she licked him clean.  "I'm your wanton slut," she said, knowing it was true. 
"Good girl."  He patted her cheek and moved off.  He smiled looking at her bright red ass.  He'd waited ten days for this moment.  She was beautiful like this, bound and submissive, accepting whatever he dished out.  He picked up the strap next, anxious to lay real stripes across her skin.  He stood in the right place to ensure that the strap covered both cheeks with each stroke and let fly.  After the first two landed on her skin he stopped.  He returned a moment later with a bright red ball gag.  "Open Kaity."  She was afraid, but she did as directed and he tucked it between her lips, strapping it tightly behind her head.  Now he wouldn't have to hear her screaming until he wanted to.  He took up his position and went back to work.  Yes, much better.  All she could manage now were muffled sounds.  He covered every inch of her rear, laying a series of carefully spaced stripes from the top of her ass to the bottom and then to the upper part of her thighs.  He had just finished the last one when his kitchen timer went off.  Time to pull the clamps.  Perfect.
He came back to her head and removed the gag, using a paper towel to wipe the spit from her face.  "Do you remember what I told you about nipple clamps Kaity?" She tried to catch her breath.  "Do you remember when I told you that you'd beg me to take them off and how they hurt more coming off than going on?  Now's the time Kaity." 
 "Oh please! Please, please take them off me, please." 
 "Hmmm... that's a nice start I suppose.  But how do I know you really, really mean it Kaity?" 
"Oh I do, please, I'm begging with all my heart, please take them off me please." 
"Well, let's see. Let's make a deal.  I'll take them off in exchange for something else.  What can you do for me in exchange Kaity?"
"I, I don't know, but anything, please." 
"Hmmm... well, let's give you some choices then huh?  How about anal beads up your ass hole or the strap on your tits?  Which one would you prefer Kaity?" 
"Either one that pleases you, please, just take them off me please." 
"Very good Kaity.  That was a smart answer.  You see, you do know what to do, don't you?"  He stroked the side of her face with his hand, wiping her tears away.  "So, my choice is both.  We'll start with the beads first though." 
He moved behind her and dribbled something cold down her crack, using his finger to push it into her butt hole.  She grunted and shuddered but bit back her cries in an effort not to entice him to return the gag to her mouth.  One after the other he stuffed the beads into her rear, she thought there were about ten but she wasn't sure anymore.  Finally, it seemed he was done because he patted her burning rear, making her wince anew.  He moved to her side.  "Beg me again Kaity." 
"Please, please, oh god please take them off, please."  She sucked in air, unable to even squeak out a sound when he yanked the first clamp off her nipple.  It was a white hot intensity, beyond anything ever.  She was terrified what would happen when he strapped them, but couldn't focus on the future, everything was focused on now.  The second one was yanked free the same way, again taking her breath away before it settled into a throbbing pain.  Now he was behind her tugging at the chain that attached to the pussy clips, jerking it back and forth, making the bells ring out.  With a sharp jolt he ripped them both off at the same time.  
Her whole body was throbbing now.  Her ass was burning, her nipples and cunt were throbbing, her asshole was stuffed full.  She was totally his, his property, his to use for his pleasure.  It was a heady experience, she didn't know what to focus on.  Finally, she realized that all she had to do was submit.  Submit to him, submit to the feelings, submit to his hand.  She didn't have to figure it out, she didn't have to decide what to think about.  Just submit.  He stepped up behind her again, grabbing her ass with both hands.  She let herself fall into the feeling instead of fighting it and he felt the change come over her.  He stroked his hard cock over her rear, teasing it against her cunt.  "Do you want it Kaity?" 
"Oh god, please fuck me Brad, please fuck me hot and hard."   He obliged, sliding into her sopping cunt, her juices belying any protests she might be making in her head.  His balls slapped against her ass, his hands grabbed her flanks and held her in place, slamming into her, thrusting his pelvis as deeply as he could.  He pulled out and came all over her ass, marking her as his property.  She whimpered, she had not had her own orgasm yet and might not ever get one.  She wanted one, she needed one, but what she wanted wasn't important anymore.  She was getting that thought, submitting to that thought, submitting to him.
© 2011 André Santhomas

Friday, February 18, 2011


As soon as she was settled in her chair waiting for the boot up to finish, she reached behind to free her breasts from the daily bondage of her bra.  Ah!  Much better.  Why was it so impossible to find a comfy bra?  She had a small moment of envy for those tiny women that could actually run around without one as well as for those women who didn't have that dreaded bit of hang over at the sides.  She shrugged, not one to wallow.  She was as she was and if the worst part of her day was a crummy bra, so be it.  She slipped the bra out from under her silky blouse, letting the fabric brush over her skin.  She looked at her reflection in the glass monitor.  Ordinary.  Plain and ordinary.  Round beach ball face.  Mousy brown bobbed hair.  Mousy brown eyes.  Fair skin.  Ordinary.  Sigh.

With only two minutes to spare, she was in and ready to enter the internet channel and meet her Master.

aria{TwK} entered the tavern, crossing the floor and slipping to her knees before him.  She spread her naked thighs and laid her hands on them, casting her eyes to the floor before him.  Your girl is here, Master. 

She sighed, if only that could be happening in real life she thought.  It was easy to type it and transport herself there in her head, but oh how she wished it could really be happening.  Maybe someday.  Her Master was now talking to her in private chat, the artificial customs of the tavern background of their chat channel no longer necessary. 

>Did you get lunch today girl?
>Not really, just a snack, Master.
>Do you have something now?
>Yes Master.
>Good, take your blouse off, sit there with just your skirt and nylons on and eat it.  Tell me when you're done.
>Yes Master.

She peeled her blouse off, naked to her waist, breasts hanging loose in front of her and ate her sandwich, watching the screen rolling in the main channel.  Another girl was doing an erotic dance, typing paragraph after paragraph of text to the group, describing her writhing limbs and burning heat.  Kaitlyn's Master and some of the other men in the room continued a conversation they were having about football under the guise of the medieval tavern setting.  Others occasionally responded to the dance.  Kaitlyn wondered if the girl doing the dance was actually typing it all as it appeared or if she was cutting and pasting in segments from something she prepared earlier.  Cutting and pasting was cheating, but then some of the posters typed so slowly and spelled so poorly, it really was preferable for long passages for public consumption. 
She finished up and let her Master know she was done.  He was still heavily engaged in the football discussion that was thinly cloaked as a battle between warring factions.  He did pop over to her private screen long enough to tell her to get her nipple clamps out and attach them.  Dutifully, she pulled them from the desk drawer where she kept them handy.  She steeled herself, sucked in her breath, then applied the pinch herself, first to the right one, then to the left.  The pain coursed through her then slowly settled into a place that was bearable and after a few minutes would become erotic.  She notified him that she had accomplished the task, aware that she'd probably have to wait for some time for him to give her the next instruction. 

She couldn't explain what turned her on so about the pinch of the clips.  And she had to admit that the interactive element of the online chat was more real than just reading one of her many smutty books, but she'd had the niggling feeling for a few weeks now that there was something else still missing.   Would she ever find the right man to take her in hand? She wondered.  Was that ever going to be in the cards for her?  She knew it did happen to some girls, she just didn't know if it would ever happen to her. 

Her Master was back now, telling her to slip down her nylons and finger herself under her suit skirt.  She did so, working hard to put herself in the moment and push all the errant thoughts from her day.  She felt the warmth of her folds, the wetness between her legs, slipping a finger in, rubbing another against her clit.  He would know she wasn't in a position to type responses at this point, so instead he fired instructions to her screen.  As directed, she pulled the dildo from the drawer and spread her legs apart, feeling her skirt hike up as she did so.  She slipped it in, feeling it fill her, once again pushing away the thought that it was a shame it wasn't a real man thrusting into her, using her at his will.  Now he told her to use the vibe from her drawer directly on her clit, rubbing it against her hot, wet skin until she climaxed in her chair.  She closed her eyes, picturing herself in the medieval tavern, kneeling at the feet of the tall dark Master, having him grab her and throw her over something then take her, hot and hard.  Thrusting, pulsing, climbing, yes, yes!  There it was, she was at her own climax, coming at the touch of the vibrator, clamping down on the dildo inside her, panting and heaving with the effort. 
© 2011 André Santhomas


He was ever the gentleman, never doing more than touching her hand or shoulder or occasionally the small of her back.  Date after date, night after night went by and still his kisses remained on her cheek.  Although he didn’t touch her lips, those kisses were anything but chaste.  He would lean in close to her, taking a moment to inhale her scent.  His warm breath brushed against her skin before he gently settled his lips on the side of her face.  The lips lingered there, warm, damp, alive and pulsing.  The tip of his tongue danced on her skin, making her arch her neck towards him, desperate to increase the contact.  She could feel his heat and desire for her and her core tingled with awareness of him.  She took in the scent that was uniquely him despite the fact that she didn't know how to breathe when he was so close to her.  Then he would pull away, reluctantly releasing her from his touch.  Her brain slowly engaged and air eventually returned to her lungs.  Her skin and her soul were already missing him. 

He chuckled at her obvious longing to feel his lips on hers, taste him in her mouth, thrust her tongue at him over and over.  There was no hiding her arousal, her nipples perking under her top, her skin flushing, eyes dilating.  Each time however, he gently deposited her safely inside her home and went on his way, leaving her wanting.

She had nearly given up and resigned herself that this would never go any further when he abruptly changed gears.  They had been dating a bit over two months and were at an exclusive restaurant, waiting for appetizers to arrive.  It had taken her a few dates to get used to him ordering for her.  At first she bristled at the idea that she could not choose for herself what she felt like eating.  Somewhere along the line, things shifted and now she was rather enjoying the pampering.  He knew her tastes sometimes better than she did herself.  He'd discuss various options and hone in on what she seemed interested in while also encouraging her to expand her pallet and try new taste profiles.  She sat close to him in the luxuriously upholstered booth when he casually rested his strong hand on her knee.  She sucked in her breath feeling the tingle rocket through her body and settle in her pelvis.  He leaned into her and she wondered if he was going to finally, really, passionately kiss her. 

“What are you wearing Mari?”

“What?”  Did he mean her perfume?  She’d never had a guy ask about that.  She wasn’t really wearing anything anyway, just the citrusy scent that was in her shampoo and shower gel.

“Under your dress, what are you wearing?”

Oh my god, was she hearing things?  He was watching her, not letting her ignore the question.  She felt herself turning pink and knew she had to say something.  “Uh, underwear.”  He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to go on.  “Bra and panties.”  She said quietly then ducked her head, unable to look him in the eye.

© 2011 André Santhomas