Gender: N/A Age: N/A Location: N/A
|Introduction: Doused Ember|
We'd been invited to my friend's place on the Island for a special party. Very special, let me tell you. I'd not been over to see Reggie since Ember moved in with me six months ago. Ember and I took the Queen of Alberni, the ferry working the Tsawwassen crossing near Vancouver. Traversing the Georgia Strait didn't take long. We disembarked at Swartz Bay, and continued driving from there.
"Why are we going to this house, Ashe?" Ember asked me. She never ceased to stun me with her delicate Japanese beauty. She exuded evening chic in her gossamer thin, sleeveless dress with a keyhole chest and a high-neck collar. The slit skirt showed leg all the way to her waist on both sides. Did I mention that the smoky, charcoal grey garment was totally transparent? Only her white thong bikini briefs and bandeau top prevented her from appearing naked. A golden buckled belt and white Latigo and kidskin sandals with three inch cigarette heels added interesting accents to her ensemble. God, I loved those shoes of hers! The strappy, birdcage affairs featured plenty of thin leather instep straps knotted just over her big toe. Nothing looked better to me than a woman’s feet properly displayed. The more visible skin, the better. The pale gold heel tips and ankle buckles complemented the white braided leather belt perfectly. Kitten could accessorize better than a window dresser at Macy’s! She looked elegant dressed in her finery. Her natural beauty required no excess of makeup. She wore no lipstick, only a hint of lip gloss. Her finger and toenails went without colored polish, but the clear-lacquered nails gleamed.
Ember turned her face to me, waiting for my reply. She had braided her hair into two thick plaits which she laced with white silk ribbon. These two braids coiled about each other, kept in check by small white bows interspersed along its length. The braid hung to the middle of her back. I moved my hand, about to stroke her hair, when she moved her head out of my reach. Her slight, beestung lips pursed together.
She looked so fucking sexy when she pouted.
"Why must we go?" she repeated. "I wished to remain at home."
"Why not?" I countered. "We should go out sometimes. Besides," I cracked a smile at her, "it's time you saw how other folks live."
My smile usually made her smile in return. Not today! Vexation robbed her of her usual good humor. "How they live? Do you think they live any different than we do?" She wore that 'Don't screw around' look I loved so much. It always made me want to fuck some sense into her. She looked sexiest when being difficult. Unfortunately for me that meant Ember looked sexy a lot of the time.
"Yeah. You know, sometimes I like to see guys who actually get to fuck their girlfriends every once in a while," I replied. I waited for and received the expected sigh of exasperation.
"Andrew, we have already been through this."
Andrew. Not Ashe. That meant she was upset. However, she didn't drop the dreaded 'Andrew Grissolm' on me, so that meant I still had some room to maneuver. Hope lived.
"Come now. You didn't think I'd give up so easily, did you? I won't rest until every square inch of Ms. Yoshikawa has been sampled by me." I suited actions to words. I slid a hand into the nearest slit in her dress and massaged her box through her thong briefs. I liked the way my dark skin played over her pale thighs. More than her almond-shaped eyes, more than her flat facial features or thick raven hair or adorable slurred accent, I loved her golden skin tone. The way it contrasted against my cocoa-brown skin when we lay naked together always excited me.
"Shush. I'm trying to concentrate on the road. That's how accidents happen."
Ember made that peculiar tooth-sucking noise she often did when annoyed, but otherwise remained quiet. I sped up the pace of my crotch rubbing.
"Andrew ... Ashe ... " Her languid words held no anger, only lust. I slid my hand below her thong and massaged her baby-smooth gash directly. Ember stiffened beneath my fingers, but made no verbal complaint. Nor did she slap my face. I'd made some progress since our first scene in the bathroom over six months ago.
My fingers deftly split her nether-lips and zeroed in on her clitoris. It rose up to greet me, extending upwards and nuzzling against my fingertips. God, I loved this girl's joy buzzer! It stretched to almost three quarters of an inch long, and felt as thick as the tip of my little finger. I'd teased her about it once, telling her that her clit approached my dick in size. She hadn't appreciated the comment. Hey, it made me laugh! Women are strange sometimes.
"Play with your breasts," I said as I rolled her clitoris between my thumb and forefinger. She complied immediately, tweaking her nipples through her dress and tube top.
Her quim quivered beneath me. I moved my hand and cupped her entire sex, rapidly vibrating my palm so as to stimulate her. Believe me when I say I made sure I didn't penetrate her. That would result in an 'Andrew Grissolm' tongue lashing I'd no intention of enduring. Yes, we'd made some progress, but true results took time. There were still many barriers between us. I intended to force some of those boundaries back a tad tonight. That remained the true purpose of our little outing. The Kaizen Principle applied to more than building automobiles. I, too, sought to effect great change by instituting small improvements over time.
I brought my hand up from her snatch and put it to her mouth. "Clean it," I said. Ember tongue bathed it, taking my large, brown skinned hand in both of hers as she snaked her pink slip of a tongue over and around my fingers and palm. Her face remained absolutely clean, with not a hint of her pussy juices or saliva anywhere in evidence. She licked her upper lip hungrily.
"More?" I asked her.
She grinned impishly. "Much more." She lowered her head to my lap.
"Oh, shit," I moaned as she unzipped my fly. Times like this always reminded me why owning at least one automatic vehicle made sense. I don't care what some of my buddies say. Getting head while driving a manual transmission car is just a bad idea, period. It's hard enough synchronizing the stick shift, brake, gas, and clutch without having a woman play with your cock at the same time. I eased my pewter Acura over to the shoulder of the road and killed the engine.
"Spoilsport," she murmured as she popped my thick cock into her mouth. I guess popped is the wrong word. Forced, is more accurate. It always amazed me how she could deep throat that bloated thing. Thank God it wasn't particularly long, or it would've killed her. My thick dick had cowed almost every woman I'd ever been with.
But not Eimi Yoshikawa. She always approached gobbling my cock Everest-style, like a summit to conquer. The passion and ferocity she displayed while giving head always fascinated me.
Her lips stretched obscenely around my rod as she gradually pushed herself upon it. Eventually, her lips nuzzled my pubic bone. I reached over and slid a spit-slickened finger underneath her clothing and into her asshole, working it in time to her thrusts. She wiggled her ass as if trying to dislodge my finger. This encouraged me to fuck her asshole with harder, deeper strokes. She groaned around my cock. My thick rod stretched her throat like a pelican's when downing a fish whole. Her ass flailed wildly, trying to buck my finger loose from her asshole. Then, suddenly, she stopped resisting me. She moved her ass up-and-down, meeting my hand pressing into her bottom stroke for stroke.
"Finish me," I said softly.
Ember went into overdrive, working my cock like it would vanish in the next few seconds and she intended to consume it before it did. Under her professional ministrations, what prick had a fighting chance? She squeezed my balls with her hand as she nibbled my glands, a maneuver that always sent me over the edge. Recognizing the feel of my impending explosion, she jammed her thumb into the base of my prick, directly on the vein, and capped my cock with her exquisite mouth. She jacked my cock as she worked its head in and out of her velvet-lined oral cavity.
My aching balls pumped spurt after spurt of boiling jism into her. Ember swallowed it all, even sucking on my cock as if trying to draw every last sperm out of my nuts. That was her new thing. She now refused to let any of my cum go to waste.
"I love how you taste. So sweet." She nuzzled my softening prick against her cheek. My hand continued to work her asshole. She planted tender kisses on my cock and balls as I stretched out her bunghole with my finger.
"You like that, don't you?" I said. "That opens some doors for me."
I stopped fucking Ember, and replaced the thong between the crack of her ass. I smoothed the gossamer dress back over her ass cheeks, and patted her butt fondly.
"Later. You'll get to come later. Trust me." I sharply tweaked her nipples as I French-kissed her. Her gasp flowed down my throat, sweeter than nectar. I loved to do that to her.
"Soon. I promise." I stroked her face lovingly. "The sooner we get to this party, the sooner I can take care of your needs."
"Then drive, black man," she said with a grin and a wink. "I do love house parties."
I did too. Especially the ones that Reggie liked to throw. I fired up the Ac and pulled onto the road. We'd forty minutes left to go. I resolved to make it in twenty-five. The roaring engine was drowned out by Ember's tinkling laughter and by the rushing blood that filled my ears as Ember massaged my groin.
"Turnabout is fair play," she reminded me.
Even through my pants, her slim hand felt wonderful on my cock. "Indeed it is," I said. "Play on."
There are few joys in life as grand as being in control of your own life. I know, because I've been trying to get control of mine for most of my thirty-five years. It all came down to three things for me: Money, Love, and Entertainment. Hey, I'm serious! Lose one, and the other two don't mean a damn.
Growing up, I thought that joining the army would be a good way to see the world, make a few bucks, and to have some fun. Boy, too bad no one told me that Canada's military had been decimated, crippled by the excessive budget cuts that robbed it of the ability to function efficiently. Mind you, military service did give me discipline, something my 18-year-old ass had sorely needed. I spent six years with the Armed Forces stationed in the Eastern Theatre. Boring doesn't even begin to describe my time there. So, it wasn't long until I resigned from active duty and did something a little more adventurous. I became a mercenary.
My cash flow increased, as did my fun. Work hard, play harder; I lived by the mercenary credo. Also, being Logistics Officer and Quartermaster definitely had its privileges. I became the most loved and the most despised man in my unit. Quite the cool situation to find yourself in, yes?
As a member of Perdition's Flames I saw more of the world than I ever thought I'd get to. Europe, North Africa, Asia; they're old friends to me. Like a lot of friends, they're best thought of on occasion but kept far away from you. The interesting times often were overshadowed by the horrors I experienced. My tour consisted primarily of enduring great hardships and inflicting them upon others. Who'd enjoy that?
While serving with the Flames I realized that happiness still eluded me. I earned an excellent income, enjoyed traveling, and fucked so much quality, Grade-A pussy I became bored with it. My life still lacked something.
Fast forward a few years to my assignment in Myanmar. That marked the end of my old life and the start of my new one. Critically injured, left for dead by my so-called friends, I reached the nadir of my existence. It took me three years to make it back home to Montreal. When I got there, I found that everything I'd left behind had vanished. My parents had died in a traffic accident while I was away. So there I was, alone, practically a cripple, and down to my last twenty bucks. In a fit of desperation I bought a handful of Super 7's and a tallboy of Bud from a corner store.
Bugger me if I didn't win $25 million that Friday.
Sad, isn't it? A man struggles for a good twelve years to make something of himself and ends up a friendless mass of scar tissue. The same dude buys a lottery ticket on a whim and is set for the rest of his days.
Life truly does suck sometimes. At least I got the coin.
I spent a couple of years undergoing intense physiotherapy, working out extensively, and deciding what the rest of my life had in store for me. Fuck soldiering! Too little pay for the risk. That last experience in Myanmar had also soured me for the whole lifestyle. Still have the love of combat and weaponry, though. Just not of jungle heat and privation. Give me the glamour and spare me the gore, I guess.
Even as a rich socialite with high-quality poon at my beck and call, I still felt empty. Perhaps I felt I didn't truly deserve my success. My mother had struggled away for years and had died living in squalor. The blood money I'd sent her had never been spent. She'd banked it all, but never touched it. Upon my return, I found out that her greedy sister, Faith, had been bequeathed the money in my mother's will, and had gambled it away in a month’s time. How's that for ironic? My aunt had gambled away twelve years of my hard-won earnings, and I'd won many lifetimes worth of earnings by gambling. In some way, getting my cash from killing and bloodshed seemed much more honest than winning the lottery.
No way would I give up all my cabbage, honestly earned or not. I'd bled for over a decade to earn a tiny fraction of the amount of my windfall. Only a dolt would give up so much cheddar for no good reason.
So I floated for a few years, trying this and that, searching for happiness. I tried by hand at drawing, painting, and sculpture. It seemed I'd an eye for composition, detail, and balance. I could draw and paint, but not well enough to make a living from it. Next, I tried photography and film work. I excelled at them. Shooting things remained my life's work, but now my targets would live through the experience.
My twisted mind soon perverted even this wholesome talent into something degenerate. I went into hardcore fetish photography. I might as well like the subject material, right? I'd brought back something else from Asia besides scar tissue; a taste for deviant sex. Over there anything went, at least it did for those who could afford it or who had the muscle to take what they wanted. During my time with the Flames I found myself in both categories. Since I could, I did. And I did often, believe me.
Two years later my photography career took off. I'd lots of green in the bank, and I brought in tons of fresh lettuce from my fetish work. Hot looking women kept themselves available to me. Seems every lady wanted to star in the pictures, whether mainstream or ‘alternative.’ My life was the shit! You think I'd be happy, right? Nah. You guessed it. I still felt empty inside.
This all changed on the night I met Ember. The first word she spoke to me had entered my heart and filled the void there. I know she felt the same way. But she'd been through hard times, a life almost as tragic as my own. It took months for her to accept that I was for real. She still had a hard time believing it. Why should I care, you ask? Because now that I felt like a whole human being, I would do anything to keep my world together, and Ember happy.
There’s an old adage that the pursuit often has more value than the pursued. I'd no idea what that meant until recently. Now I knew. The kill paled when compared to the excitement of the chase. The striving often eclipsed the outcome. I needed a new goal.
My new mission? Cracking into Ember's sweet honey pot. Over six months had passed, and could you believe that I still haven’t fucked this chick?
Yeah. Me neither.
This brings me to today.
My Ac glided into the driveway twenty-two minutes later. I gaily leaped over the side then helped Ember out of the passenger. She seemed the epitome of elegance as she extended a perfectly sculpted foot to the driveway, and stepped out of my ride. She donned her white straw, wide-brimmed hat and Vuarnet sunglasses.
"We're going inside," I informed her. "No shades required."
She graced me with the smile I loved to see so much. "Much better to see than be seen, I am thinking." She slid her sunglasses into place.
I shrugged. Hey, they did look good on her. I tossed my car keys to the valet, a tuxedo wearing pimply-faced lad who didn't look a day over fifteen. "If you scratch it, son, you buy it."
"It's a Legend, not a Boxster. Chill, Bro," he said as he sat inside my ride. He didn't sound affected by my warning, but he did drive off at a reasonable 10 miles per hour.
"You are not a nice man," Ember admonished. She straightened out the lapels of my cinnamon colored sports jacket, sliding her hands over my muscular chest. "I really wish you listened to me and put on a shirt and a suit, not just the turtleneck and jacket. Even the boy was dressed up."
"The boy was a servant, Kitten. He can't choose how he dresses. Since I can, I do."
"You really are not nice," she said again as she smacked my ass cheek with her petite hand. She left her hand there, stroking my ass gently. She'd never admit it, but the Black Man Caboose turned her on. Don't go thinking only the Sistas got it stacked in the back!
"I never claimed to be nice,” I replied. “Let's go inside."
Inside meant inside the sprawling Georgian style estate, one that had stood here for over a century. Blue blood ran in Reggie's veins. Or at least, as much blue blood as any Canadian could claim to possess. Her money was old money, that’s for certain. For that reason and others, she always maintained an ultra cool attitude when dealing with me in public. That suited me and my nouveau-riche ass just fine. I intended to spend all of my dough before I kicked. I saw old money as money gone to waste.
"Andrew. So good to see you." Reggie glided over to the entrance hall and approached us. She lightly gripped my forearms as she kissed both of my cheeks with that exaggerated loud smacking that the air-kiss crowd favored.
Regina, Reggie to her friends, played the part of a well maintained lady of virtue. Svelte and stylish, she looked as elegant and demure as a pastor's wife. Don't let that fool you. The 66-year-old horny cunt fucked like a streetwalker with rent to pay. She wore a knee length peach silk dress, short-sleeved and belted. The loose fitting garment sported a narrow V cut right to her waist. A single strand of pearls and pearl earrings accentuated her clothes. A magnificent, three-strand black pearl bracelet hung heavily on her right wrist. Sheer black silk stockings adorned her well maintained legs which were capped by three inch high stiletto pumps in white patent leather. Her peach colored macrame belt cinched her waist, practically the only thing that kept her small breasts concealed. She'd teased her short silvery hair, its wavy curl kept in line by hair spray and loving care. I shouldn't have call her hair silver. For Regina, only platinum would do.
Reggie noticed my inspection, which hadn't been subtle. She smiled wider at me, loving the attention I gave her. Ember noticed my stares too, and scowled. "Welcome to my home,” she said, solemn as a priest officiating at a wedding. “What color?"
"Red. For both of us," I quickly added. Reggie's smile slipped a trifle, but she raised a bony finger to the man at the desk. He pulled two red ribbons from one of the three baskets in front of him then presented them to us. Reggie tied the strip of cloth on my wrist, her hands lingering much longer than they needed to. The man from the desk fastened Ember's. She looked at hers as if it'd sprout needles any second.
"Reggie, I'd like to introduce you to Eimi. Eimi Yoshikawa, Mrs. Regina Fredericks, a good friend of mine." Reggie, who'd been turning away to greet some other guests who were filtering in behind us, whipped her head around in surprise. Her silvery-blue eyeshadowed eyes grew large with shock. Then her emerald eyes glittered beneath coquettishly lowered eyelashes.
"Eimi Yoshikawa. What a beautiful name. So good to meet you," she said as she extended a faintly wrinkled hand to Ember. Ember bowed formally in the Japanese way, but didn't touch Reggie's hand at all. She left it dangling stupidly in the air. Reggie quickly withdrew it. Ember remained silent, but I could sense the smile she wore in her heart.
"Please, enjoy my home. Andrew. Eimi." With an amazed look that emphasized the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth, Reggie fled into her house, leaving her arriving guests to fend for themselves.
"That was rude," I said.
"She was rude," Ember replied haughtily. "Who is she to turn her back on me?"
"I never bothered to introduce my dates to her before. I think I surprised her."
That revelation pleased Ember immensely. A beatific smile split her face in two as she took my arm and placed it around her, positioning it on her slender waist. She snuggled into me as she said "Shall we enter, then?"
"Evil bitch," I joked as we entered the house. Time to party!
Ember sat next to me as she sipped on a flute stemmed glass of champagne. I drank grape juice from a wine glass. Had to keep up appearances, after all. I didn't drink or smoke. After all the problems I'd gone through to heal myself, dousing myself with toxins remained low on my list of things I'd ever do again. Not that I judged others, you understand. Just that I couldn't bring myself to drink or smoke anymore.
Ember looked over the color coded patrons who circulated around the house. Often, someone would come over and strike up polite conversation, surreptitiously glance at our ribbons, then drift off again.
"This place feels like a brothel," Ember finally said. "I felt this way working the clubs downtown."
"That's because they're checking you out, just like the men did at the clubs. They like what they see, but they can't afford the price." I lifted Ember's dainty wrist and stroked her red ribbon. "Red means no."
"I see," she replied. "Why aren't more people wearing green, then? Most are yellow."
"Green means that they will not refuse an offer. Yellow means that they're free to negotiate."
"Why are we here, Andrew?"
I'd become Andrew again! I'd better make this good. Time to begin Operation Ember. I nuzzled Ember's neck, nipping at it with small, sharp bites. "Just as I told you, to see how other people live. Take off your panties and Bandeau top. Let the people have a good look at you."
Ember spun to face me. "Are you serious?"
"Oh yes. Take off those clothes, Ember."
"I don't want to," she replied hotly.
"There are two thousand reasons why you're going to. I can think of more on a weekly basis."
Ember stiffened. She turned her head away from me, her eyes dropping to the hands she clasped in her lap. You see, although I consider her my girlfriend, the truth is that I paid her two large a week for the privilege of doing so. I'd never thrown this in her face before. The fact that I mentioned it reinforced in her mind the seriousness of this issue. "Turn around," I said to her gently. Ember did so. I undid the fine black buttons that dotted her spine and ran up her neck, and brushed the gossamer-thin cloth off of her creamy shoulders. Around us curious vultures circled, ready to descend upon her.
"Raise your arms, Kitten." She raised her arms straight upwards, but otherwise remained mannequin-still. I pulled the tube-top off of her, revealing her perky breasts. The burnished copper areolas gleamed in the parlor lights. The nipples were already thick and long, pointing upwards.
"Ah. I see you're not overly embarrassed," I said as I tweaked her nipples.
"Andrew, not here! You shame me."
"Don't feel embarrassed. Not around these people." I pulled up the smoky gauze cloth and pushed her arms through the armholes. I did up the rear buttons. "Stand up, Ember."
"Please, will you not stop this?" Her begging truly sounded pitiful. As much as her unhappy tones and hurt expressions moved me, I steeled myself and forged on.
"Turn to face me, Ember. Yes, just like that." I stared up into her black eyes as I placed my hands on her hip bones, right at the sides of her thong briefs. I slowly rolled them down the sides of her hips, then down her long legs. She steadied herself on my shoulders as I lifted one leg up, then the other. I tucked the thong briefs into my jacket pocket.
"Stand up straight. I want to see how good you look."
Sometimes I just couldn't believe that such a hottie lived under my roof. Her transparent dress hid nothing from sight; her high breasts, her shaved pussy – everything! In many ways, seeing her displayed through the gossamer mist excited me more than if she had stripped completely. Any part of her flesh that touched the fabric shone a creamy white, while skin not in contact with it remained veiled in shadow. I turned her around slowly. The cloth had the same effect on the marvelous curves of her ass. I rubbed her cheeks appreciatively.
"You're beautiful, Ember. You should feel proud."
"I feel humiliated."
"There's no reason to feel like that." I came around to her front and kissed her. She didn't respond. Her body trembled against mine, whether in passion or in anger, I couldn't say. "We're going downstairs."
"What is down there?"
"The party, what else? You didn't think that this was it, did you? Now that you're properly dressed," I smiled as I tweaked one of her earlobes, "we can proceed to the party proper in the basement." The basement consisted of six large rooms that extended under the main house, the ideal place for the games that Reggie and myself enjoyed playing.
Ember tried to take it in all at once, her eyes darting to the walls encrusted with a multitude of implements of torture and play. A gleaming steel latticework covered the ceiling. Each intersecting point had a large O-ring embedded into it.
"Calm yourself, Ember. You'll get to see everything in due time. We have all evening." I slithered a tongue into her ear. She shuddered.
"How do you feel?" I asked her.
"Scared, and?" I pressed
I knelt on the ground in front of her and stared at her sex. It bloomed before me, the usually recessed inner labia protruding from its clamshell. The lips gleamed with her wetness. The divine fragrance stirred me. I collected some of the dew and brought it up the her eyes.
I licked my finger clean. "You certainly are," I agreed.
We entered the dimly lit Chamber of Sighs, a room decked out with plush silk pillows, Oriental rugs and a few divans. Soft Arabic music played in the background, giving the room an Oriental flavor. Five couples were here already, in various states of undress and copulation. One pair immediately caught my eye. I approached them, pulling an unusually reluctant Ember behind me.
A young black woman of about twenty lay upon the ground. Funny how a short, thin woman like Vanessa could have knockers that large! Simple gold studs adorned her ears. I loved her short Afro. Not many black women liked to go with a natural cut. It showed character. As a matter of fact, it had been her hairstyle that had drawn me to her last year. We'd never dated, just fucked like ferrets when the opportunity arose.
I loved coming over to Reggie's!
The naked bear of a man with a red ribbon on his wrist quickly fastened her wrists and ankles to an X-frame. The black anodized steel cross had stainless steel and leather cuffs welded onto it. She whimpered as he clicked shut her restraints.
She wore a dark blue business suit comprised of a jacket and skirt. Her white silk cotton blouse looked marvelous on her, a stark contrast to her skin. Vanessa was a brown so dark her skin practically shone. Only her bright red patent leather pumps and her ivy patterned, black silk stockings ruined her illusion of being an office worker. Those fetish heels would find no welcome place in any office I'd ever been in. Her hands flexed in the restraints, showing flashes of blood red fingernails.
"What is he doing to her?" Ember asked.
"That's a motorized X-frame," I replied. "It can be raised or lowered by remote, and can rotate on its plane. The individual members are also independent of each other. They can move on their own, and into any required position."
"How do you know all this?"
I laughed. "Who do you think installed this one here?" I replied with a wink. I moved behind Ember and massaged her breasts through the gossamer sheath. "Hush now. Let's see what this guy has planned for Vanessa."
Shit! Too much info delivered too soon. I resolved to watch myself for the rest of the evening. These be rough waters I be sailing in, with treacherous shoals all around me. Miscalculate, and I’d end up stranded on Celibacy Sandbar for who knew how long! I kissed Ember's neck." Quiet now. Observe."
The short, stocky fellow stepped back and grabbed a remote control. A thick steel rod about three inches in diameter crept out of the floor, bearing the entire X-frame and its payload with it. It stopped its ascent at about three feet off of the ground, giving Vanessa a cock's eye view of the room. The man strolled over to her.
"Why don't you speak to me at work, Mrs. Turner?" he said.
"I'm always so busy," she replied, her voice tremulous. "I barely have time to finish my job much less socialize."
"Lying slut!" The open handed slap he laid across the side of Vanessa's cheek made a loud crack. Vanessa cried out.
"Ashe!" Ember yelled.
"Don't worry about it, Kitten. Vanessa's last name is Evans, not Turner, and she's a stewardess with Air Canada. This is fantasy play. Relax." I kept mauling Ember's breasts as I took in the scene.
The man moved over Vanessa's body, caressing it through her clothes. He stroked the five inch heels of her pumps, then nuzzled them with his face. He forced his tongue into her toe cleavage, slathering her foot with spittle. Indecipherable murmurs flowed from his lips as he moved them up the inside of her thighs.
He finally stood between her open legs. "You have time for Mr. Eddings, though, don't you, cunt?" He leaned over Vanessa, reaching over to grab the lapels of her smart looking business suit. He tore them open. Vanessa's silk enshrouded breasts heaved. Her legs flexed, as if she tried to clamp them shut. Good luck! She couldn't move the members of the frame. "Everybody knows you're the office whore. Why him, and not me?"
The fellow stroked Vanessa's breasts through her white silk blouse, forcing louder sighs from her. "No, Robert, not like this," she said. "We'll talk Monday. I know, we can take a break together in the conference room. It'll be nice."
"Why wait 'till Monday, slut," he challenged. He tore open her blouse, exposing her generous breasts, concealed only by a bright red brassiere. He undid the center front clip, freeing her tits from their lacy confines. Her heavy breasts slid to the sides of her rib cage. Her dark, glassy areolas covered most of her tits like puddles of motor oil on hot pavement. God, how I loved her hard, erect nipples! A man could use them for toothpicks.
"Robert, no!" she pleaded.
Robert picked up the remote and hit a button. With a gentle whir, the X-frame lowered the neck support to approximately thirty degrees negative incline. Vanessa's head now leaned back invitingly. A couple more clicks and the leg supports forced her legs to stretch even further apart than they had been, and to angle slightly upwards. Vanessa struggled against her moving restraints. Her skirt, a rather tight affair, rolled up her long legs as they parted. Red lacy panties peeked out from underneath the dark cloth.
Robert stood back and pulled on some leather gloves. He opened up a cooler chest. "I got just the thing for frigid cunts like you, slut." He pulled out an ice dildo, about eight inches long and two inches thick. "I bet you thought you had a frigid gash before. Think again." Robert pulled aside her panties and jammed the dildo inside her in one thrust, right to its clear balls. Vanessa wailed like a lost soul denied its last chance at redemption. She rattled futilely against her restraints. Her entire torso bucked up and down on the X-frame as if it seared her flesh.
"Robert! Get that god-damned thing out of me!" she yelled. She started to cry. Tears leaked out of her eyes.
"Fuck, you're a loud one," Robert said. "I guess I should've gagged you first. Not too late to correct my mistake."
Robert slipped around the X-frame and positioned himself in front of her face. His cock jutted out angrily from a thatch of brown wiry hair. "Bite me, and I'll rip your nipples off," he said as he shoved his cock into her mouth.
Vanessa gurgled as he forced his cock into her. He grabbed onto her two pendulous breasts and hung on for dear life as he rammed in and out of her mouth mercilessly. His heavy balls slapped against her nose as he filled her face with cock.
"How's that, bitch? Enjoying yourself?" he said as he jackhammered into her. Vanessa's ass continued to gyrate as he skull fucked her. Her hands clawed empty air, secured as they were to the X-frame.
"Oh God, yeah!" Robert snarled as he took Vanessa's mouth. "Take it, you fucking office piece of trash!" Robert fell forward so he could grab the dildo. He slammed it inside of her in counterpoint to his own strokes. Vanessa went wild, her crazy, ineffectual bucking making the stainless steel and leather restraints creak with strain.
"Oh God, I'm going to blow!" Robert shouted. He released the ice dildo and leaned back so he could grab Vanessa by the ears. Her throat worked steadily, milking Robert of all of his cock cream. After about three minutes of diligent cock sucking from Vanessa, Robert pulled out with a satisfied pop.
"Vanessa, that was great,” he huffed. “You want out?"
Vanessa struggled to regain her breath. Some of Robert's cum dribbled out of her mouth and crept up the side of her face and into her hairline. "No, let me stay here for a little while. But don't forget to snag some pictures. I need to see how used I look."
"Shit, sorry!" Robert scrambled to his pile of gear and pulled out a Sony Mavica digital camera. He got busy, snapping photos of Vanessa in bondage, her ice-filled snatch, and especially close-ups of her slightly bruised lips that leaked opalized rivulets of glistening cum.
"So what do you think?" I asked Ember. She had reacted well to the little show. I could smell her from where I stood. Like a mare in estrus, she was! That suited me just fine. This stallion had been in rut for months now. I craved to sample a piece of Eimi-pie. Tonight, if things panned out for me.
"How can she stand to have that thing in her?" Ember asked, amazed. "It must burn."
"Indeed it would. Ice tends to numb flesh if used extensively, and would quickly deaden all sensation for her. There's no sense in that." I strode over to Vanessa's exposed snatch and pulled out the dildo. Vanessa gasped aloud. "Sorry babe," I said. "I'll put it back real soon."
"Andy? Is that you? How's it hanging, baby?"
"As thick as always." I brought the dildo over to Ember. "See? It's clear silicone with a stoppered hollow core. You fill this end with water, and cap it with the threaded Lucite plug. Pop it in the freezer overnight, and you got yourself a glacial phallus in the morning."
"If you're going to freeze it anyway, why not use real ice?"
"Real ice can snap off, Ember, or chip when used hard inside a woman. An ice shard can be as sharp as a razor blade. Rough play is one thing, but deliberate torture is something else. You have to take care of the people who've given you their trust," I told her gently.
Without missing a beat, I positioned the dildo at Vanessa's anal opening.
"Andy? You're not going to do what I think you are!"
"And if I do?"
Andy, you sick fucker, I'm not stretched or prepped for that right now! What about all that talk about trust? "
"You never trusted me anyway," I said as I slid the dildo into her pussy. "Just screwing with your head, Nessie. I wouldn't dream of damaging the merchandise."
"Be glad I'm strapped down, asshole." Vanessa's overwhelming relief was audible, despite her fierce words.
"Are you kidding me? I counted on it." I kissed Vanessa's belly, taking the time to tongue her navel then slap the side of her hip. "Later days."
"Later, baby. You sticking around for awhile?"
"Perhaps." I took Ember by the hand and led her into an adjoining room.
"What is next, Andy?" She emphasized the name. I didn't rise to the bait.
"Wait and see. You can never tell, in this place."
Reggie called the next room the Chamber of Tantalization. Reggie always came up with stupid sounding names for her playrooms. Hey, her house, her rules. Then again, why should I bitch? I lived a place named Hyacinth House. Perhaps one day I'll tell you why.
Then again, perhaps not.
This room looked like a medieval dungeon. The decor was early Spanish, circa the 16th century, if you wanted to be precise. Thick tallow candles provided the faint illumination. The place reeked of suet and sweat.
"The place smells like the stairwell of a parking garage. Just excrement and urine," Ember griped.
"Don't fool yourself. Reggie has an air vaporizer system installed in here that sprays that scent. She could have it squirt 'Summer Breeze' if she wanted to, but she felt that stale sweat suited the dungeon decor better."
Many bizarre instruments of torture lined the walls. Most of them were ancient and lethal, devised to maim and to break, not to provide pleasure. Ember stared at the sinister devices, worry creasing her brow.
"Those are just showpieces. The real toys are over there." I walked over to a set of double doors and swung them open Inside the closet sat a wall unit with three huge drawers. Pulling the bottom one open, I reached in and opened up a side. It telescoped open like the pans of a fishing tackle box.
"The other drawers are like this one, as well. Whips, ticklers, stimulators, vibrators, dildos, anal plugs – you want it, Reggie has it, all shiny and new for the pleasure of her guests." I rooted around for a bit, and found a couple of small diameter ass plugs. approximately an inch in thickness. Training wheels, I called them. I also took out an eight foot long leash and a sparkling set of stainless steel and leather body cuffs.
"Got something for you. Hey Ember, what's wrong?"
"Listen," Ember whispered.
I did so. I heard a faint moaning from the wooden door behind me. "Open it," I said. Ember's breathing stopped. She looked at me apprehensively.
"Open it, Ember."
She did as I asked, regardless of how she personally felt about it. A tall woman on a platform waited inside. She looked Italian, rail thin and gorgeous. Her single braid looked thicker than my wrist, and at least three feet in length.
The girl stood on a circular platform with a steel ladder bolted to its center. Nylon cord bound her to it. Her head nestled between her knees and was strapped to the ladder, as were her arms, stretched up the sides. Someone had secured her long blonde braid to the ladder rungs as well, pointing straight up. Her feet were about six inches away from the ladder. Her cramped, uncomfortable position must hurt to maintain for any extended period.
"Look at her."
"Looks mighty uncomfortable," I agreed. But you'd be surprised at the kind of things people like to do for pleasure."
"No, Ashe. At her. Her face. Her privates."
I finally saw what had attracted Ember's attention. Honey liked piercing. I mean really liked it! Metallic finery encrusted her opened crotch and breasts.
She sported both a VCH and a triangle pierced clit, not to mention a true clitoral pierce, something that I'd only seen once before in my life. Her outer pussy lips had a staggered six ring pierce, the fine gauge, small diameter rings winking in the flickering candlelight. Absolutely gorgeous.
I slid a finger along her pussy lips, enjoying the feel of the cool metal rings on my sensitive fingertip. She sighed. The captive bead rings were gold, probably 18 carat. Her pierced nipples sported nipples shields with horizontal miniature long swords holding them in place. A thin gold chain draped from the hilt of each sword and clipped to the body of the blades. A Madonna pierced her cheek, the silver ball mimicking the placement of the superstar's famous mole. I smiled. Had it been on the other side, it would've been called a Monroe.
"Any others?" I asked her.
"What?" Her thready voice sounded hoarse.
"Piercings. Any others besides the ones that I can see?"
"Tongue. Venom. Navel. Vertical industrial. I wish I'd put in a fucking horizontal pierce right now!"
"I bet!" I said in way of commiseration. Bent double like that, a vertical bar would surely gouge into her belly. I crouched down to her eye level. I loved the helix spiral she wore on her left ear, a five pointer! She had one more ornament, an outer-conch orbital. The silver ring connected the two holes that pierced her ear. It looked phenomenal. I couldn't help but notice the three green ribbons tied to her upper left arm. Not only was she available, she preferred edge play.
"How long have you been tied up like this?"
“What time is it?"
"Just past 8 PM."
"For over an hour."
No shit. I hoped whoever had tied her up had been checking up on her. I carefully inspected her flesh, checking for cold skin, parts that didn't react to my touch, that kind of thing. She assured me that she felt fine.
"You're used to this kind of thing," she challenged.
"Bullshit. You checked me over like an old pro." I slapped her ass cheek hard to silence her. She groaned. My hand slid along the ass I'd just slapped. The ingeniousness of this position surprised me. Not only were all of her muscles stretched and her balance precarious, when she fell forward, she would yank on her own hair. Her feet were unbound so she could inch forward to regain her balance, but that was it.
So much fun from what looked like a sawed-off aluminum extendable ladder and a few lengths of nylon cording. Who said that toys had to cost a lot of money?
I motioned Ember over and showed her the rings in the trussed woman's pussy. She seemed keen to learn more about the subject. I explained that the labial ones were for pure show, but the vertical clitoral hood pierce excelled at placing jewelry square on top of the clitoris, while the triangle pierce would nestle a stud squarely behind the clitoral nerve bundle. The ultimate sensation would come from the true clitoral pierce. Very few women who wanted one could ever get one. The clit had to be sufficiently large, and separated from the clitoral hood for one to even be considered. I tweaked Ember's pussy lips as I spoke.
"Don't do that," she warned me.
I gently pried open Ember's mouth and popped in the two fingers that had been in her sopping pussy, fucking her mouth with them for a few strokes before I withdrew. "It doesn't seem that you mind too much." I countered.
I turned back to the captive woman and massaged her hardware encrusted privates. Her moans told me she liked the treatment.
"Please. Fuck me," she begged.
I looked the question to Ember.
"Is this what you truly want to do?" she asked me. Her neutral voice kept her feelings concealed. Very often I could suss out her true feelings solely by intuition. Not this time, though. I’d have to do this the old-fashioned way. I’d have to talk to her.
"I'd rather have you," I finally said.
"You cannot have me."
"Then she will do."
I left the room and came back moments later with a gorgeous thirty-six strand flail. I loved its eighteen inch long blades and the comfortable, twenty inch braided handle. The virid core lay concealed by the outside jet black strands. Only when in motion would the emerald streaks blossom. I swished the flail around in the air a couple of times to get the feel of it.
I brushed the buttery soft blades of the flail over the woman's spread ass and pussy. "You sure you're a three ribbon kind of girl?"
"Yes. Use me."
The first stroke landed square on her taut backside. The whistle of the flail as it sliced air reminded me of the sound of the wind through the branches of a dead tree. It caressed her ass with an audible snapping noise.
The woman grunted, then fell slightly forward. She scrambled to regain her footing.
"Hey, the lady asked for it," I said as I shook the tangles loose from the buttery soft blades. I sent a stroke whistling toward Ember's tits. She shrieked as the strands slapped her pert breasts, then stopped, confused. Her hands glided over her mounds in disbelief.
"Deer skin, Ember. These blades won't cut flesh. But they make a gorgeous sound, eh?" I shook loose the blades once again. They were being difficult. I had to comb them out with my fingers. "A flail this soft needs to be untangled after every stroke or two, but it's well worth it." I sent a few more strokes over Ember's thighs and rump to emphasize my point.
"It tingles," she said, stroking her legs.
"But it won't hurt if properly used," I said. "It's not always about pain. It's more about sensation." I gave the bound woman a few more lashes, then stroked the flail end across Ember’s cheek. She pushed her nose into the dense mass of leather strips and breathed in deeply.
"I love the smell of new leather," she said. "This scent reminds me of riding inside of a Jaguar coupe on a sunny July afternoon."
"I don’t own a Jag," I said.
"I’ve been with men who have, Andy," she replied.
Ah, payback! Slow in coming, but skillfully delivered. I’d let her score that point. I tossed the whip into the bin provided for used toys.
Ember's curiosity got the better of her. She stood by the woman's ass, gently stroking each cheek. It had colored nicely and now glowed a light cherry red.
"It is so warm," Ember said.
"It feels bloody hot," the woman agreed.
I stroked the woman between her legs, jangling her pussy ornaments. She sighed. "These piercings really magnify woman's pleasure," I said. "They place pressure in all the right spots if they're positioned right.”
"Enough of the Bondage 101, already. Fuck me!" the bound woman shouted.
"You know, I never could stand a woman who likes topping from the bottom," I said as I swatted her ass with my open palm. She stumbled forwards, groaning in pain. The muscles of her lower back stretched. She quickly regained her footing again. Her breath came in loud gasps. I jammed the anal plug I'd been carrying into her slit to lube it up, then thrust it into her unsuspecting asshole. She grunted, then wiggled her ass around frantically. That plug went in real easy, though. No novice to ass play here!
"You have something for my pussy?"
"Nothing that would do it justice." I kissed her firm ass goodbye, giving her jewelry a final jingle. "I love your pierce work. My compliments to the artist."
We moved off to the next chamber. Before I could even reach for the door Ember pulled me to a stop. "Ashe, no more."
"I want you, Ashe. Now."
I desperately wanted to smile, but carefully kept the smirk off of my lips. I had to play it cool. I couldn't afford to blow it, not when so close to getting what I wanted. "Why do you want me?" I asked. "Why now?"
Ember looked away from me. "When I saw you with the black woman, then later on with the bound one, I realized that you can have many other women. Why have you waited so long for me?" She regarded me with her dark, questioning eyes.
"Because you're the only woman I want. No one else matters to me."
Ember clutched me around the center. I felt her body shaking against mine. "Why are you crying?" I asked her.
"You make me so happy, yet I cause you so much pain."
"Pain? You? Never." I lifted her face, tilting it so I could kiss her tears away.
"Do not lie to me. I know how badly you want me, and I know how frustrated you get when I turn you away. I am surprised you are still with me."
"It would be a shitty investment if I dumped over $48,000 into a woman and didn't get to fuck her at least once. I have to keep you around until I get to sample the goods."
"Be serious," she said as she smacked my arm.
"What makes you think I'm not being serious? Forty-eight large is serious business."
I hadn't intended to do this, not so soon, but she presented me with the perfect opportunity to really see what her limits were, and how far I could push them.
"You want to try something different? It'd be a waste to leave this place before trying out some of the facilities."
She endued her sharp gaze with suspicion. "What do you have in mind?"
"You let me worry about the details. I've some ideas about what I want to try with you." I ushered her into my favorite room, The Cerulean Chamber.
The room’s sapphire light cast eerie cobalt shadows upon the glass walls. Ember hung from a chrome suspension bar, a three foot long, hollow metal tube with two heavy-duty eye bolts on either end. Bicycle chains dangled from it. They were attached to her wrist cuffs, pinioning her arms over her head. I attached a third chain to her ankle cuff. Her ankle hung at rib level. She hobbled about on her left foot, the only one that could reach the ground.
Ah! I love asymmetrical bondage. It threw the body's natural sense of balance off kilter, and added to its feeling of vulnerability.
Cuffs of durable saddle leather cinched her thighs, ankles, neck and wrists. Each had three D-rings sewn to it. They were both versatile and beautiful, but were only being used for their cosmetic value. Ember bounced around, testing out her restraints.
"Are they on too tight, or are they okay? How do your shoulders feel? They'll pull a bit at first, but they shouldn't hurt.
"I will manage." Her smile told the tale. She trusted me. Trusted me to respect her boundaries. I'd do so.
That isn't to say that I wouldn't push those boundary markers back a bit!
Ember allowed my heated gaze to do whatever it wanted to her vulnerable body. Wherever my sight passed, tremors passed through her golden flesh.
"It’s a beautiful dress, but I think it’s outlived its usefulness." First I undid her braided leather belt, then I grasped the back of her dress and split it down the center. Buttons scattered around the chamber, loudly clattering on the cold tile floor like pennies tossed into a glass dish. I repeated the act to her front, letting the torn garment hang from her shoulders in two distinct halves. Ember's eyes went wide.
"Silence." I slipped a blindfold over her head, totally blocking her vision. "No more speaking. Don't make me have to gag you. I will, if you speak one word out of turn again."
Ember fell silent. Her tongue moistened her suddenly dry lips. I pinched her nipples and stretched them out as far as I could prior to applying a steel clover clamp to each one.
"These special clamps tighten as more weight is connected to them," I informed her. I hooked up a two ounce weight to each, the minimum mass that Reggie had available. Ember gasped and leaned backwards to support some of the weight on her body. I shoved her forwards again, causing the weights to swing outwards. She grunted as her tit-flesh swayed in time to the makeshift pendulums.
"Stay as I place you, Ember." An open-handed smack on her bottom emphasized the seriousness of my command. I replaced her belt, the braided white leather providing a most interesting contrast to the dark leather cuffs she wore.
I massaged her all over, using only my lips and tongue. I started at her feet, nuzzling at the balls on her exposed flesh through her strappy sandals, and worked up to her calves and her thighs. I purposely skipped over her crotch, instead continuing up her back, her torso, and then her breasts. I nibbled all the way up the sides of her neck, then kissed her square on the nose. Ember giggled.
"I love you, Eimi Yoshikawa. This is all for you."
I kissed her, luxuriating in her silken mouth. She hopped about, trying to maintain her balance. My fault, since I often jiggled her chains around, causing her balance to shift. I worried at her clamped nipples, enjoying the way her sharp moans burst into my mouth. I worked my way over to her backside and spread her ass cheeks apart. I spit square in the center of her crinkled brown eye, then massaged the spittle into her. I then took the one remaining Anal Trainer and worked it slowly in and out of her asshole. Ember’s gasps became sighs of pleasure.
"When we get home, there are going to be some changes," I informed her. “No more pants or concealing clothes. Only skirts, dresses, or easily removable clothing. You’re to be open and accessible to me at all times. Do you understand?" I tugged down sharply on her left nipple weight. Ember’s body seized up as if electric current flowed through her. "Ember?" I said.
Ember whimpered, and nodded.
"No tights, and no pantyhose. Stockings only. If you must wear panties, they're to be crotchless. It is always better to wear none at all. Do you understand?" I rotated the slim dildo inside of her stuffed asshole. Ember vigorously shook her ass, trying to quell that discomforting sensations that the spinning toy produced in her clenching anus. She wasn’t used to anything being there for prolonged periods of time. That would change soon. "Answer me, Kitten," I said.
"High heels only, or barefoot. No more flats unless we are doing work in the garden. Of course, that doesn't extend to your bath slippers." She was Japanese after all, and very traditional in some surprising ways. She always insisted that I wear no shoes in the house, and always wear slippers in the bathroom. Getting her to wear heels, even inside the bedroom, always exhausted me but was worth any amount of effort. "I want you to display those fucking incredible calves and legs of yours for me at all times. Do you understand?"
As before, a whimper, and a nod of acquiescence.
"And finally, one last condition. Starting from tomorrow morning, you’re to wear a butt plug, like this one for the better part of the day. I’ll start you off small, but will increase its diameter every two weeks. I intend to work you up to about, oh I don't know," I hefted my cock in my hand, "five inches long, three and a half inches wide. Of course, regular enemas will now be a part of your morning toilet. You'll either do this on your own, or, if you have difficulty doing so, I'll administer them for you. The plan is for me to be fucking your ass by Christmas time, and I'd rather not cause you any excessive pain." I jammed the little butt plug in and out of her a few more times to emphasize my point. Having that hard piece of plastic ramming inside of her was nothing like a finger. The way her ass and legs twitched, I knew she found it uncomfortable. "Imagine something almost four times that thickness thrusting into your ass, Ember. The butt plug training is for your benefit. As I said, I'm fucking asshole by Christmas. And you'd better be ready for it. Do you understand me?”
I tossed the dice. All of the other crap was small potatoes compared to this one point. I knew she'd go along with the no pants, only heels, no panties thing, but ass fucking? Not a chance! She felt so strongly against intercourse of any type. I'd purposely specified ass and not pussy. From day one, she'd let me tongue and fondle her asshole. But touching her pussy bare had earned me a full handed slap I still remembered vividly. Would she give up her ass cherry to me in four month's time? I didn't know. But I certainly hoped so.
Ember hung there for a long time, twitching in her restraints. Her head hung low on her chest, drooping like her nipples did under the weight of the clover clamps. She let out a long, shuddering sigh and nodded her head.
"Say it out loud, Ember. I intend to welcome in the New Year with my cock planted firmly up your ass and you bouncing on top of me for all you're worth. Will you allow me to take your ass?"
"Yes," she said. "My anus will be yours to use by Christmas time." She sounded resigned, but not upset.
Let me tell you, her words made my dick spring up so hard and so fast I nearly blacked out from the sudden drop in blood pressure. When my world stopped spinning, I remembered to check on Ember. I massaged the area around her nipples, held them, then unclipped the clover clamps.
She hissed, her rapidly head flailing from side to side.
"That's only after five minutes. Any longer than that and removing the clamps would really hurt. You'll get used to heavier weight and longer hang times later." I kissed her soundly. I resisted the temptation to fondle her abused nipples. Better just to let them alone until blood flow returned naturally.
"Now, I want to give you back some of the joy that you just gave me. One second."
I pulled a second, then a third suspension bar over via the interlaced latticework on the ceiling, then fastened chains to her knee and waist supports. Ember looked wonderful hanging by her wrists, yet also supported by knee and ankle cuffs as well. She hung in mid air in roughly a sitting position with her legs splayed open.
"This is for you," I said as a spread her pussy lips. Man, about time I got to run something up inside of her.
"Ashe! No, please?" Her voice held an urgent note of pleading in it that I couldn't ignore. Unfortunately, it came too late. I'd already pried open her pussy and tried to peer into her depths. I failed.
Her hymen had obscured my view, concealing her inner sheath from my sight.
"Son of a bitch!" I blinked to clear my eyes. I looked inside her again. She still had a cherry. "A virgin? How when the world?"
"Let me down, Ashe. Please?" Uncharacteristic begging filled her voice. I pulled off her dark green blindfold. Hot tears streamed down her face, now unhindered by the damp cloth I'd just removed.
"A virgin prostitute. Care to explain that to me?"
"I told you once that my touch was my business. I touch them. I don't allow them to touch me. Most of them are happy enough with my mouth and hands."
"For the ones who aren't?"
"I run from them."
"Why hide this from me?" I asked her. "What did you think I'd do?"
"Release me, Andrew Grissolm!" The weak words didn’t sound right. Her heart just wasn't in it.
"Nice try, Ember. But I don't buy it. Talk to me."
"Once I let you have me, I become a whore in fact!" Ember sobbed, a fresh torrent of tears sluicing her face with saline sorrow.
In some strange way, her claim made sense. She equated whoring with vaginal intercourse. Anything else, head, hand jobs – and I guess anal – didn't figure in her world. But once I busted that cherry, that was that. She'd achieve certifiable slut status.
"No, Ember. Having sex doesn't make a woman filthy. Not if she enjoys what she's doing. Sex is perfectly natural."
"You are telling me that this is natural?" She jiggled her chains.
"Got me there," I said. "We'll discuss kink later. In the meantime, I've some pussy pleasing to do. No penetration. I promise. Now just lean back, relax, and enjoy the ride."
I stifled her pending protest with a skilful stroke from my rough tongue taking its first swipe of Ember-pussy. The gasp that rushed out of her sounded raw. She clamped her jaws shut to keep her desire firmly bottled inside of her. Too late for that shit! She already showed me her frail inner self. Why did she feel unworthy of sexual satisfaction? Somewhere along the line she'd decided that she was merely a vessel for giving pleasure and undeserving of ever receiving it. I’d disabuse her of such silly notions once and for all.
I held her two succulent globes of ass-flesh firmly in my hands as I pressed my thick lipped mouth against her privates. My tongue speared against her hymen, running against the firm, elastic membrane. I limited my time on it, just nibbling along its middle ridge. Ember flailed about, tossing her head to and fro as I worked on her pussy.
I renewed my ministrations, doing full licks from asshole to her clit. She couldn't slap my face now, could she? I laughed on the inside as I continued teasing that smooth stretch of skin between asshole and pussy.
I tickled the inner folds of her pussy and nibbled on her inner lips as I washed over her entire box with my tongue. She rewarded me with a fresh dose of her lubrication.
Her clitoris called to me, begging to be serviced. I pulled back her clitoral hood and sucked in the pink nubbin, relishing how it expanded between my lips. I sucked it like a vacuum did dirt. In response, her pussy went wild. It squeezed on nothing, the peristaltic tremors causing even her thighs to quiver. Ember moaned uncontrollably.
I reached up and tweaked at her aching nipples as I feasted on her box. Her pussy reared upwards, grinding into my face. If I had to guess, I'd say she liked the treatment! I abandoned the work on her breasts and jammed her ass forward into my face, pressing it in hard as I fed upon her.
A piercing cry of pure bliss split the air as her orgasm hit. Soon, her tremors subsided. All was quiet except for the sounds of Ember's gentle sobbing. I quickly undid her restraints, and set her free. Ember stood upon firm ground once more. She stared at me for awhile, long enough for me to start worrying.
She approached me. I didn't tell her to do so. This had to be solely her decision. There could be no coaxing on my part. I didn't reach out to grab her, or force her to me in any way. She fell into me of her own accord. Her petite frame warped to fill in all my odd shaped valleys and crevices, coating me like Tool Dip on a pair of pliers. Ember's body seemed custom made for me.
"Are you okay?" I asked softly.
"More than okay. Thank you, Ashe." She buried her face in my chest.
She was the brazen child who’d suffered greatly at the hands of the world, stoically taking all of its abuse, but who wept at the first gentle word or genuine kindness she’d ever received. She broke into salty tears once again, snuffling against me. I grasped her tightly, content just to embrace her for a little while.
"It's okay, Kitten. I understand you now. Everything will be okay. Kissing the tears from her eyes, I swept her petite, quivering body into my arms and carried her upstairs. I handled her gently like the fragile doll she was.
Reggie was sorry to see us go. Sorry to see Ember go, anyway. I know my Reggie, she liked women even more than I did. She delighted in fucking young women and even younger men, as if rolling around in a quivering mass of youthful vitality would somehow endue her flesh with it. Regina firmly believed the one could absorb youth by osmosis. It looked like she'd just returned from her latest treatment. Cum dried in her hair, matting it in places. The telltale stains on her bust and ass gave her away, too.
My woman wore nothing but her white heeled sandals, her white leather belt, and a set of stainless steel and leather cuffs. So noble looking was Ember, the fact that she stood totally nude did nothing to detract from her regal bearing. I'd previously cuffed her hands behind her back, attaching them to her neck collar by a short piece of chrome spreader bar that fastened from neck to wrists. The hardware held her neck and shoulders back firmly, and made her breasts jut out enticingly.
"Are you sure you have to leave so soon?" Reggie asked me, eyeing Ember hungrily. Ember pretended she didn't notice the looks Reggie lavished upon her. But she did move towards the exit, pulling the leash taut that I held in hand.
"Very. We have an early morning ahead of us. Goodbye, Reggie. I kissed her on both of her cheeks. At the last moment she sank her talons into my dreadlocks and gave me a deep, decidedly unmatronly kiss. I almost dropped Ember’s sunglasses and hat from my surprise, not to mention the leash. She held me there, sucking moisture from me like a desert traveller did from an oasis. I really wish she hadn't done that, though. Never did like tasting another man's cum. Bitch better rinse her mouth the next time she did something like that to me!
"Do come back soon, Ashe. Both of you. But next time, please choose green!"
Ember practically materialized in front of Reggie, shouldering me out of her way with a strength I'd forgotten the little fireball possessed. She stood so close to her, their noses almost touched.
"That is 'Andrew' to you, old cunt," Ember said contemptuously. "Do not rise above yourself!" With that, Ember turned on her heel and strode out of the front door.
Reggie's mouth worked soundlessly. I shrugged in way of apology. "Hey, Ember's the boss, after all," I said as she pulled me out by the length of leash she wore affixed to the collar.
We were back on the mainland, bombing towards North Vancouver, and home. Ember wore a plain white cotton summer dress I’d retrieved from the trunk and her strappy sandals. Nothing else. She had removed all of the cuffs except for the stainless steel and leather collar. She wanted to get used to the feel of it, she'd told me. Personally, I think she just liked how sharp it looked on her.
"You don't like Reggie, do you?" I asked her.
"If she calls you Ashe ever again, I will beat her," Ember said fiercely.
"She'd really enjoy that."
"Not the way I would do it."
Funny to think that Reggie kissing me didn't faze Ember in the least, but Reggie's use of my pet name without authorization by her incensed my woman to no end. I guess a prostitute, even a former one, had a radically different view of what acts constituted intimacy. Somehow I knew that Ember would've preferred it if Reggie had dropped to her knees and sucked on my cock than to call me Ashe. You already know that I think women are strange creatures. This just reinforced the fact.
"How long until we arrive?" She asked. She fondled my cock bulge absently as she looked around, enjoying her night ride.
"Don't know. Twenty minutes. Thirty perhaps."
"Do you think you can make it home in fifteen?" she said as she pulled out my cock and choked it down in one gulp.
"Maybe," I squeaked as I jammed the gas pedal all the way down. My Ac shot forward into overdrive as I wiggled my prick around in Ember's eagerly working throat. If I didn't miss my guess, life was about to get really sweet.
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