that doesn’t look anything like a real cock, and as it came free of her clothing, I despaired of ever really taking it with any expertise. I could only hope to survive on sincerity. She passed me an un-lubricated condom, and slowly, I worked it over the tip, using my lips to push it on.
“Eerie— yes,” she sighed, watching me. “That is good, ma petite. I know you cannot swallow all of me. But make love to it nonetheless. Do not allow what is happening to you to distract you.”
What was happening to me? I wondered about that for scarcely a moment before I felt my thighs being spread wider. It had to be Andy again, and his fingers lightly touched my cunt, and I shivered.
I had not had a man touch me there in years.
The cold shock of that made me stop what I was doing—exactly what I shouldn’t have done. What she said she didn’t want me to do. Instantly, her hand was in my hair, jerking my mouth off of her cock, and turning my eyes to hers.
“You are not a virgin,” she stated with the assurance of one who has already had access to my open holes. “You may be a lesbian, but you are my toy right now, are you not?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said, feeling a wash of betraying tears. The fingers had left me, and I shook, half in fear and half in anger at myself.
“And if I choose to have my toy penetrated by my hand, or my fist, or my cock, that is my right, is it not?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Or any hand or fist or cock. It is of no import who or what they are attached to. I wish it done—you will accept it.”
I felt a word dancing around in my mind, and captured it before it could escape. Safe word, I was thinking. Dammit, safe word! I want you, not your boytoy, I don’t want any man’s dick in my cunt.
But I want to be a slave, your slave, like you said, serving you—But I don’t want anyone else—But other women, that would be all right—But I could be happy—
She pushed my head back down, and speared my mouth, expertly. I choked at the intrusion, and almost fell backward, but caught myself with a fist wrapped around each of my ankles. There was no intruding hand between my thighs this time, only the hard, slick cock of a woman, the pounding and sliding penetration that no flesh and blood phallus could duplicate. I set my lips around it, and pushed back, taking as much as I could, coughing and gagging as she took me. I didn’t know what to think, and soon enough couldn’t. At one point, she held me suspended on this gag, filling me until I couldn’t breathe, and laughing as I swayed back.
And then, I was on all fours, and that big, awful cock took me, first driving into my cunt, slick with the dampness of come and sweat and every drop of lube my body could possibly manufacture. By the time she spread my ass cheeks, I was near blind with confused pleasure, drunk on endorphins, exhausted with the strain of holding my own body up. I felt the tearing pressure as though it came from outside my body, and when she sank her teeth into my neck, pinning me to the floor, I screamed and thrashed around in something so shattering it couldn’t be contained in the word orgasm. Think of one mind-blowing, electrical shock that zaps you from head to toes. Now, sustain it until you can’t breathe.
I lay there, panting and oozing, clutching at the carpet fibers, trembling. I felt a weight on my back, and a sharp cut on my shoulder, and cried—sobbed, really—when I realized that she was marking me.
Then, I felt Andy lifting me up and allowed him to lead me to the glorious bathroom. He bathed me like an invalid, wiping me down, and left the room with me sitting on the john, utterly wasted.
I stood, and turned to see my back in the mirror. On my left shoulder was an odd mark—two vertical lines, one with a shorter line flying up on the right side, the other with a line extending from the top at perhaps a 30 degree angle. They were trickling blood. When Andy came back, he put a bandage over both. He brought my
“Eerie— yes,” she sighed, watching me. “That is good, ma petite. I know you cannot swallow all of me. But make love to it nonetheless. Do not allow what is happening to you to distract you.”
What was happening to me? I wondered about that for scarcely a moment before I felt my thighs being spread wider. It had to be Andy again, and his fingers lightly touched my cunt, and I shivered.
I had not had a man touch me there in years.
The cold shock of that made me stop what I was doing—exactly what I shouldn’t have done. What she said she didn’t want me to do. Instantly, her hand was in my hair, jerking my mouth off of her cock, and turning my eyes to hers.
“You are not a virgin,” she stated with the assurance of one who has already had access to my open holes. “You may be a lesbian, but you are my toy right now, are you not?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said, feeling a wash of betraying tears. The fingers had left me, and I shook, half in fear and half in anger at myself.
“And if I choose to have my toy penetrated by my hand, or my fist, or my cock, that is my right, is it not?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Or any hand or fist or cock. It is of no import who or what they are attached to. I wish it done—you will accept it.”
I felt a word dancing around in my mind, and captured it before it could escape. Safe word, I was thinking. Dammit, safe word! I want you, not your boytoy, I don’t want any man’s dick in my cunt.
But I want to be a slave, your slave, like you said, serving you—But I don’t want anyone else—But other women, that would be all right—But I could be happy—
She pushed my head back down, and speared my mouth, expertly. I choked at the intrusion, and almost fell backward, but caught myself with a fist wrapped around each of my ankles. There was no intruding hand between my thighs this time, only the hard, slick cock of a woman, the pounding and sliding penetration that no flesh and blood phallus could duplicate. I set my lips around it, and pushed back, taking as much as I could, coughing and gagging as she took me. I didn’t know what to think, and soon enough couldn’t. At one point, she held me suspended on this gag, filling me until I couldn’t breathe, and laughing as I swayed back.
And then, I was on all fours, and that big, awful cock took me, first driving into my cunt, slick with the dampness of come and sweat and every drop of lube my body could possibly manufacture. By the time she spread my ass cheeks, I was near blind with confused pleasure, drunk on endorphins, exhausted with the strain of holding my own body up. I felt the tearing pressure as though it came from outside my body, and when she sank her teeth into my neck, pinning me to the floor, I screamed and thrashed around in something so shattering it couldn’t be contained in the word orgasm. Think of one mind-blowing, electrical shock that zaps you from head to toes. Now, sustain it until you can’t breathe.
I lay there, panting and oozing, clutching at the carpet fibers, trembling. I felt a weight on my back, and a sharp cut on my shoulder, and cried—sobbed, really—when I realized that she was marking me.
Then, I felt Andy lifting me up and allowed him to lead me to the glorious bathroom. He bathed me like an invalid, wiping me down, and left the room with me sitting on the john, utterly wasted.
I stood, and turned to see my back in the mirror. On my left shoulder was an odd mark—two vertical lines, one with a shorter line flying up on the right side, the other with a line extending from the top at perhaps a 30 degree angle. They were trickling blood. When Andy came back, he put a bandage over both. He brought my
Similar Books
