Well, there was no getting around the fact that the night Belle spent at Meg's was fun.
How could it not be with that teen twat in their face for most of the evening.
Still, it was George who occupied most of Belle's fantasies, and sure enough, the next night, when it finally came, proved to be a memorable one.
"I'm going to eat you; my own private white pussy." She was on the bed, and that's all Carl got out before lowering his mouth and starting to work on Belle again.
This time he let his tongue roam over her newly shaved area, and it nearly drove her wild, almost immediately she began bucking and kicking at the sensations. She'd never felt anything like it in her life! Over and over, the waves of pleasure went through her, filling her with the most delicious type of agony.
If only she weren't tied up, she told herself, she would have fucked this guy a million times already. She was being driven by him and loved every minute of it.
Now he used to fingers to open up the lips of her pussy, and both of them could clearly hear the squish of her lips as, sticky, they reluctantly parted, only to be devoured by his mouth.
He sucked on her hard and brutally, once again winding up her and bringing her to nearly the brink, only to let her go and take his mouth off her.
"NO ... OH GOD ... I CANT STAND THAT...." she said, as she buckled and shoved her hips up and down, no longer the least concerned about the very private and lascivious show she was being forced to perform for him.
Was there no end to his cruel lust?
He reached back into his black box and produced a small, rather sinister looking vial.
"What's that?" she asked him.
Naturally, he didn't respond to her questions. Instead, he opened the cap of the vial, carefully, and laid it on the floor. Then he took a long, thin spatula looking device and dipped it in. When he removed, it it had a reddish tint to it. Belle kept her eyes glued to it, not have any idea what was about to be done to her.
He put the vial down and recapped it, holding the wetted stick in the air. Then he let his free hand go to the inside of her thighs, letting his knuckles graze along smoothly, until he came to her pussy, but he didn't stop there.
Instead, he went down lower, lower to where her ass-hole, which also was fully exposed by virtue of the position she was tied to on top of the pillow, and stuck a finger just on the edge of it.
"Oh!" Belle said, jumping a bit as she felt his cool finger caressing her there.
She'd never before been touched in that magical spot by a man. She liked the way it felt, and enjoyed the way it made her contract.
However, she had no idea what he was going to do next.
He took the spatula, and opened the crinkle of her ass-hole, so that it was not gaping.
"AAAHHH," Belle said, as she was now feeling more helpless than ever at his ministrations. Carefully and deliberately, he took the spatula and put it up inside her ass!
"Jesus," Belle moaned, as she felt the thing inside of her.
That wasn't so bad, but what happened next was totally surprising. Emanations of pleasure started to race through her bottom, like a million tiny teeth taking small nips out of her.
"What's happening ... what's ... what's it doing ... to me...."
George said nothing. He was fully aware of what the girl was feeling. The special, secret lotion was like an enervator. It was a combination astringent and relaxant, so that, in spite of anything that she might have been feeling, her ass-hole was relaxing, and opening.
"That's right," George said, softly, as he watched her ass-hole expanding, enough to receive a finger from him, which it did.
Belle squirmed as she felt the man's finger going deep into her ass-hole. She tried to squeeze her ass-hole around it, to somehow let him know how good it was feeling.
"Ooohhh ... that's so ... that's sooo good...." Belle said, as he worked his finger all the way up to her, until it was completely buried in her ass.
When he was securely up, he then took the spatula, and started stroking her pussy with it. She knew what she was in for now, as the stinging, enervating feeling began to spread out on her pussy.
He was opening her up from the front and hack, and was putting his fingers were the spatula was. He worked up two, three, and then four fingers up her snatch, and now he had her in the eternal grip of love, as he clutched at her clinging, longing pussy, and tight, virginal ass-hole.
"I'm going to ... I'm going to...."
This time, instead of letting her off the hook, and making her fall down, George increased his rhythmic actions, until, finally, after she thought it was never going to happen, he let her have a shattering, earth-cracking orgasm.
"YES ... YES . ... OH, YES...." she cried, as she came, over and over again, coming in waves, sighing and breathing and now crying, as the tears came streaming down her face.
Never… Never in her entire life had she ever had such an orgasm. As the cream from her cunny came cascading down, the special lotion that she had made to take made it sting in the most delightful way.
Finally, when George had made her spend as much as he did, he took his fingers out of her and let her try to regain her strength.
Her head fell forward, and a track of spit ran down the side of her chin. She'd been ravaged all right, without ever having been fucked by the man. She had no idea what, if anything, was left to do to her.
She only knew one thing.
She couldn't believe it was true, but it was.
In spite of everything.
In spite of having been raped, in effect, by this man, cruelly tied up, stripped and ravaged.
In spite of it all, she knew the simple truth.
She was falling in love with him.
The next thing she did was even more unbelievable than anything that had come so far.
He untied her.
"What ... what are you doing?" she said to him as she felt her hands go free for the first time in several hours.
"I'm untying you. I'm not some kind of animal, or something," he said, smiling at her. "You don't think I'm going to keep you tied up beyond a reasonable time, do you?"
She laughed. "No, I guess not. Now what?"
"Now I go home."
She looked down at herself. She was still fully exposed to his gaze. She fixed herself, as reasonably as she could, and then slowly, with his help, she was able to stand up off the couch.
"You mean you don't want to stay the night?"
"No, I don't. Not this night anyway. I will call you whenever I feel like it, and you will answer my call. You will return when I say, and do as I say. Is that understood?"
She couldn't believe she was hearing herself say it but she shook her head and said, "Yes."
Belle blushed heavily. She knew what she was supposed to say. "Yes master."
Naturally, she got very little sleep that night. She was able to masturbate herself to orgasm nearly a dozen times, as she replayed the scenes of her domination over and over and over again. She'd never imagined that such things were able to go on between men and women in New York City. Which just went to prove to herself once more how naive she really was. Of course this sort of thing went on. Every day. With people you rode the subway. With people who served you in restaurants. With people who went shopping next to you for clothes, for food, for the morning paper.
With people who loved sex as much as you did.
The weekend was, well, what could she say, a little anti-climactic. There was no one she particularly wanted to see, nothing she really wanted to do. On Saturday she went to the movies, and made sure that she left her phone machine on when she went out, lest George would call and not find her home.
She wasn't sure if he expected her just to hang around the house or what, but she wasn't about to stop living. So she did some shopping Saturday night, and yet, even though she was determined not to let this thing get out of hand, she found herself racing home to see if there were any messages on her box. There weren't.
The next day, Sunday, she spent quite leisurely. She bought The Times, read it section to section, made a couple of perfunctory notes about a film she wanted to see, and an appliance that was on sale, but for the most part there was nothing of real interest there for her. She watched a little television, and went to bed rather early. Another day with no George.
The next morning she dressed herself for work, and, just as she was choosing her clothes, decided to wear her garter belt, the black one with the little red roses on the side, and her sheer black stockings. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was hoping that if George was going to call her again, and there was no guarantee that he would, that she'd have one of her sexiest outfits on. like this one.
She took a cab to work, and soon found herself at her desk, surrounded by paperwork. She began to analyze the accounts of the previous week, and to go over their new proposed commercials. It was a fun job, and the morning flew by. By the early afternoon, she'd all but put George out of her mind, satisfied that what had happened last week was just a one time situation, and that it was never to happen again.
Then the phone rang on her desk.
She was taken quite by surprise when she heard the voice. She was a million miles away from Friday night, embroiled in a deskful of material, when George's smooth, authoritative tone came jazzing through her receiver.
"I will see you this evening. Directly after work. At five thirty there will be a car waiting for you in front of your office."
And with that he hung up.
How did he know where she worked? How did he know she'd be so ready to see him. How did he know so much about her anyway, and the fact that she would do anything he wanted.
He knew. He knew because he had explored her most intimate sensitivities the other night, and everything about her said take me, fuck me, abuse me, and do it again tomorrow twice as bad.
Belle couldn't wait for five o'clock to come around. As the working day ended, she spent the last hour of it getting her self freshened in the ladies lounge of the advertising agency.
"Big date, huh?" Sylvia, one of the other female executives of the company, said to her as they both sat in front of the make-up mirror. All Belle could do was shake her head yes. Could there ever be any way of explaining to anyone what was going on inside of her?
She stepped out of the building precisely at five thirty, not daring to be late. She didn't want to incur George's wrath, which she knew would be terrible, if she ever had to.
Sure enough, just as he said could she ever doubt his word? there was the car, a stretch black limo, with a driver behind the wheel, waiting for her. She swallowed hard, opened the door, got in, and before she could say anything to him they were off.
The drive lasted only ten minutes, before they were in front of George's apartment building. The chauffeur came around, opened her door, and helped her out. She couldn't help but notice the slightest smile on his face, as if he knew all that she was about to experience. Why did she think he looked less like a chauffeur and more like a drinking partner?
She couldn't think about that now. Her head was locked into other, more immediate things. like how to keep her pussy from dripping as she rode up to the top floor apartment.
She got to George's door and was about to knock when the door opened. It was George, in a thick robe, with his hair slicked back and his face clean shaven. She stepped in. The place smelled like a man's locker room, filled with heavy male deodorant aromas, and a very interesting after shave.
She smiled as she walked in, and was about to say hello, when George pointed to the floor.
"On your knees," he said to her.
She immediately dropped down in front of him.
"Hands behind your back." Again, she obeyed, doing exactly what was asked of her.
George went around behind, and producing a length of the red silky rope, the kind that he could make as tight as he needed without causing any rope burns, he quickly bound her wrists, so that they were tight against the small of her back.
He walked around her slowly, surveying his handiwork.
He liked the way she was dressed; smart, sexy skirt, sheer black stockings, interesting white ruffled shirt, and her hair and make-up impeccable. She was reminiscent in her look of a well-done maid.
He intended to make her well done.
He bent down behind her and put one hand on the back of her neck. Pushing her forward gently, he was able to convey what he wanted from her without having to waste words saying it.
She leaned over, so that her head hit the floor in front. George leaned over and produced a soft pillow to allow her forehead to rest upon. She was grateful for the way he was always taking her comfort into consideration. His use of pillows for strategic parts of her body was most appreciated.
He was behind her now, gently stroking her ass through her skirt. Then, with a single flourish, he lifted it from either side, and flipped it over her back, so the material covered her tied hands.
The view was glorious. Her perfectly shaped, pure white thighs shone above the end of her stockings, with the black straps of her garter belt making a gorgeous feast for his eyes, he ran his hands up and down the backs of her naked upper thighs, and then, stuck a hand between her pantyless legs and began to stroke her pussy.
"Ooohh...." Belle moaned, as she felt his hands beginning to explore her. She wondered what joyous punishment he had in store for her.
Imagine her surprise then, when she heard his zipper slowly opening. Could he? would he?
He could. He would.
He took his enormous black dick out, the one he'd not allowed her as yet to see beyond the bulge in his underwear the previous time they were together. He began to rub it up and down the crack of her ass, sending tingles of chills deep inside the recesses of her spine. Then, placing his two hands outward inside the warm, cuddly thighs, he gently spread them, and introduced his dick to her dripping cunny.
"Jesus," Belle hissed, from the sheer delight of being rewarded his big cock into her pussy. She let her head push deep into the soft pillow, and tried to spread her legs as much as she could to allow her to take his big cock all the way up.
In a matter of seconds she had all of him. He must be twelve inches, at least, she thought, as he began the multi-rhythmic thrusts of his cock deep into her hungry, waiting pussy.
"Yes ... oh, yes...." she moaned as she felt him fucking her. She was on her knees before him, stripped and tied and forced to take his dick up her pussy. She was being taken in the lowest, most demeaning way imaginable to her.
And she was loving it.
He moved one hand around, and slipped it between the front of her legs, not missing a chance to stroke the inside of her thighs. She began to moan and sob at the same time as she felt his hand close in on her bobbing clitoris. He took it in two fingers and began to pinch and squeeze it, until she thought she was going to completely lose it.
"SHIT ... THAT'S SO ... OHMYGOD ... THAT'S SO ... UM-
MHHH ... MMMMMHHHH ... AAAHHH...." She moaned and sighed and pushed and heaved, wishing her hands were free so she could hold on to his balls as he did her.
Then, as she knew the time was approaching, she was about to come, with a shattering, mind crackling orgasm.
And he pulled out.
"NO...." she screamed, suddenly emptied and vacant. "DON'T DO THIS TO ME...." she screamed, but it was no use. She knew this was one of his favorite things, to bring her to the brink and then let her hang.
He came around to the front of her, put his hands on her shoulders and made her sit erect, up on her knees, like an obedient puppy. He didn't say anything, but held a glass up to her.
Oh, God, she thought to herself, another one of his potent mixtures. She really didn't want to drink it, didn't think she needed anything to get her any hotter than she already was, but thete was no way out of this. She lowered her head, and making small sob, waited for the hand she knew was coming, under her chin, to gently lift and force her to drink it.
She felt the coolness of the glass between her lips, and then, the strange, hot and sweet liquid pouring into her mouth and down her throat.
Carefully, he forced her, while her hands were still bound behind her and her pussy was still palpitating from the hard fucking he'd given her, to drink every drop, and not to spill any. The small track of liquid that did manage to escape her mouth was scooped up on the end of one of his fingers, and she was forced to lick it clean.
"Good," he said as he surveyed the empty glass.
He watched her as the potion almost immediately began to take effect. Her eyes became a little less bright, and her mouth relaxed at the corners. He could tell she was starting to ease into a new level of passion.
She smiled at him as his hands went to the front of her shirt. She remembered her experience well from the other night, and now, as he undid the bottom button and pulled the shirt out of her skirt, the front of which had fallen back down to her knees, making it now graze the floor, he forced the bright white ruffled thing over her shoulders, and went to work on her bra.
This time, in anticipation of even the vaguest hopes of being called by George, she'd worn a strapless bra that snapped together in front, between her tits. Therefore, with one smart move, he was able to open it and remove it completely, without having to undo her hands or readjust her shirt.
"There," he said, as he exposed her pretty, uplifted tits to his eyes.
He began to gently, expertly fondle them. She knew at once her nipples were still sore from the punishment he'd inflicted on them the other night, but the pain was a strange combination of pleasure and humiliation. She wasn't used to having a man expose her private parts to his indulgent explorations. She bent her back a little so as to be able to thrust her breast charms toward him, to let him know she enjoyed this.
He answered her thrust with a hard slap across her tits.
"I'll tell you when to do that," he said, and with that, he slipped a hand behind her neck, so as to brace her, and began to punish her for her impudence.
"No," she moaned as he slapped her across her breasts, hard and direct, making her eyes pop out.
It was not the sort of treatment she had in mind.
Again and again she felt the hard sting of his hand hitting first one, then the other, slapping her and punishing her.
Her breasts, as if in response, grew harder and more firm as she endured the beating being inflicted on her.
"No ... please ... I'll be good," she moaned as he kept at it, first on one breast, then the other, increasing his level of punishment, making her all the while sit up stock straight and take all he had to give.
"This will teach you," he said firmly, as he continued to work her over, causing the skin of her tits to turn a lovely crimson hue, and her head to turn slowly from side to side, her face wincing with each blow.
"Oowww...." she moaned as he kept at it, until finally, with a burst of sobs, the tears came to her eyes and flowed down the side of her face.
He had brought her down. Forced her to submit to him sexually, and now had beaten her to tears. He loved the sight of the sophisticated, beautiful woman who was now bound and on her knees before him, weeping uncontrollably, begging for him to stop.
"I'll ... do anything...." she sobbed, as finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he took his hands away from her breast and the back of her neck.
Her head immediately fell to her chest, and she heaved in soft sobbing, until she was able to regain her composure.
At this point, he merely leaned back and drank in her exposed, beaten body. "Of course you will," he said softly.
He was the baddest black dude she'd ever met, ever imagined, and she was going to really go to town on him.
Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe it was she who was going to go to town on him.
Either way, they were up for some hard sexual traveling!