Friday, December 9, 2011


He stood outside her front door. His stomach was in turmoil, making a mockery of the term "butterflies in your tummy". It was more like someone had ripped his entrails out, tied them into knots, and then shoved them back in. He was not nervous, he was scared.
He had dreamed of being taken by Mistress Anna. She was famous for being the most beautiful, most sensual dominatrix for hundreds of miles. She was also the youngest. She was a lifestyle domme, not one of those women that partied for a bit of fun on the occasional weekend or took money to slap you with a riding crop. 
Mistress Anna also had a reputation for being exceptionally cruel. Rumors of her rather hard style had come to him, and attracted him. Disgusted by the wimpish dominants he had experienced during his last year of exploration, her reputation had immediately attracted him and caused him to seek her out.
And here he was. Standing at the front door of the mansion standing alone in the hills. It was far enough away from other residences he was sure no one would hear screams, or see anything. Isolated, private. This was his last chance to back out.
He didn't want to. He wanted to experience real submission, total humiliation and control, domination and pain. It was here, on the other side of the door, within his grasp. His hand rose and he watched with amazement as his finger extended and rang the doorbell.
A minute later, the door opened and the Mistress stood looking at him. She was tall, about six feet; with long black hair and light skin. Her slim body moved with stillness and efficiency as if it was conserving its energy for when needed. Her breasts we perfect, their shape displayed nicely by the tight t-top she wore. Her dark eyes surveyed him for a moment before she spoke.
"Kyle. Come in."
He stepped across the threshold and into a foyer with marbled flooring, impeccably decorated with modern furnishings. As the door closed behind him he turned to look at Mistress Anna once again.
"Remove your clothes and all accessories. Anything on your body that is man made should go in that plastic bin," she indicated a square plastic tub with a lid on a side table. "Watches, rings, glasses, jewelry, everything."
Kyle silently stripped as the dominatrix watched. Her face showed no emotion as he quickly removed everything and placed it in the bin. Moments later he stood completely naked before the tall, unsmiling woman.
"Come with me." She turned and walked into a side door, which led to a wide hallway. As they moved down the tiled hall, Kyle began to grasp just how large the mansion was. They passed several rooms, most with closed doors. The few rooms he was able to catch a glimpse of were furnish in modern style, for various purposes. They passed an entertainment center with a home theater, and what looked like a small library.
At the end of the hall, Mistress Anna opened a door and walked down a few steps into what appeared to be a small annex to the main house. This area was not nearly as finished or elegant as the main living area they had passed. Concrete floors were unadorned, and doors were heavy wood, all closed. She opened a door and revealed a square room glaringly lighted by a single bare bulb overhead. In the center of the room was a heavy square uncomfortable chair that looked unnervingly like an old style electric chair. It even had straps for arms, legs and head.
"Sit down," she said in a tone that was a simple command. It assumed obedience, and Kyle didn't even consider not obeying. He sat in the chair, feeling the uncomfortable hard surface of bare wood and straight back. He became aware of how his penis stood up from between his legs and his face flushed. There was nothing he could do to hide his arousal.
"So, Kyle. You have indicated that you are a submissive. That you wish to be dominated by a woman, apparently by me. Is this correct?"
His voice was dry and broke as he answered. "Yes, Mistress Anna. I desire that more than anything."
"You know that I have no safe words. This isn't a game or play with me. When you submit to me, you are becoming my possession for as long as I desire, and I will do with you as pleases me."
"Yes, Mistress. I want to give up control," he responded, as he surveyed her beautiful face and amazing body. His erection was throbbing, actually bouncing slightly.
"Do you wish me to hurt you?"
He hesitated a moment, knowing that this was serious. "Yes, Mistress Anna."
"Beg me. Convince me that you are worthy of my attention." The dominatrix leaned against the wall casually and waited.
Kyle cleared his throat. "Please Mistress Anna. I have come here because no other dominant has been able to meet my desire to be dominated. I want to be hurt, in whatever way you wish to hurt me. I want to feel the pain of helplessness to your whims. Please... Mistress. Hurt me."
Kyle was shaking and sweating in the cold concrete room as he begged the beautiful woman to take his body as her own, to make him suffer for her pleasure. He looked down at his lap and saw his penis throbbing, a small drop of precum glistening at the end.
The tall dark woman glided over to him and slowly spread her legs as she straddled his lap, facing him. She sat down on his thighs and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her face forward to reach his lips, kissing him. Kyle was shocked at this unexpected move. His cock was rubbing against the denim of her jeans and he could feel his arousal building as her tongue entered his mouth and their saliva mixed. He felt as if he was going to lose control right at that moment.
She broke the kiss. A small smile ran across her face and she rose, stepping back from him.
"Get up, then lay down on the floor, face down."
Kyle did as he was told, laying down on the incredibly hard, cold floor. He lay with his right cheek on the floor, and looked at her shiny leather laced boots before him. One boot rose and pressed down on his head, slowly but with increasingly painful pressure.
"I. Said. Face. Down." She slowly articulated the instruction and then removed the boot. Kyle turned his head so that his face lay directly down on the concrete floor. Mistress Anna moved away, and he listend to her making some sort of preparations in the room. His hardened cock was pressing against the concrete and he had to suppress the urge to start humping the floor.
After a few minutes of waiting, another command was issued. "Sit in the chair again."
Kyle stood and sat back down in the chair. Underneath him, laying on the seat of the chair, was a wooden board. It extended about six inches beyond the sides of his ass as he sat on it, and was positioned under his ass and thighs.
"Spread your legs."
He spread his legs as instructed. The dominatrix used the straps on the legs of the chair to secure his legs in their spread position. She then strapped his arms to the back of the chair. The straps were tight, positioned just below his armpits, and just above his wrists. His legs were secured at his knees and at the ankles. Pulled as tight as possible, the straps cut into his skin and caused him to grunt in pain as she tightened each one. When she was done, he could not move about in the chair at all.
With catlike precision, Mistress Anna produced two items which made Kyle's eyes widen and a shudder ripple through his nude body. First, a hammer. Next, several nails.
"Do you need to be gagged?" The woman asked in a derisive tone.
"As you wish Mistress," he answered.
"I think I would like to hear what kind of Malesong you make," she said, almost to herself.
Reaching under his bouncing, throbbing cock, she roughly took hold of his ball sack and pulled it out. He yelped just a tiny bit from discomfort as she stretched them out and then let them settle back on the board beneath him.
Her long, smooth, thin hand held one testicle in place as the other positioned the nail above it. It was a long nail, with a wide head. The point pressed down on his ball and he began to whimper as he felt a hint of pain. Holding the nail in testicle in place with one hand, she took up the hammer.
Kyle could not watch. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hands, straining against the straps. With a sudden thwock sound, the hammer came down on the head of the nail, which immediately sliced through the flesh of his scrotum and into the testicle. The pain took just a second to set in, but when it did, a scream seemed to involuntarily erupt from the poor submissive's gut like vomit.
A second hammer blow pushed the nail through the testicle and out the other side of the scrotum. It entered the board placed below him. Malesong reverberated in the hard walled room as Kyle yelled and moaned from the pain. Several more blows made sure the nail was well embedded in the wood below him before Mistress Anna stood and observed the agonized man before her.
Mistress Anna observed the suffering before her and felt the pleasure suffuse her body. It aroused her to see men suffer. She liked to be close to it. She walked around to the back of the chair and slid her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, feeling the muscles contract and struggle from the agony. She thought she might orgasm right then, such was his pain, but she wasn't done. With a sigh, she walked back around to the front of the chair and took a second nail.
Kyle was crying by now, begging that she not impale his second testicle. She didn't appear to even hear his pleas, and simply positioned the nail, pressed down a bit to allow him the hint of new pain that was coming, and savored the male's suffering. Finally, she raised the hammer and with one blow drove the nail through the scrotum flesh and through most of the testicle. Rapidly, she struck the nail head several times, driving it through and back out of his helpless body and deep within the board underneath.
His genitals firmly nailed to the board beneath him, the submissive continued crying, shuddering from an aching pain that now flooded his hips. He looked up and saw his dominant looking at him with a satisfied smile, simply observing him.
Once again, she straddled him and sat on his lap, reaching her arms around him and kissing his lips, now salty from tears. He managed to kiss her back, and his still hard throbbing penis rubbed against the denim of her jeans, between her thighs. He no longer had the urge to thrust and try to climax, as he was nailed securely below, but his arousal was still evident. In spite of the pain.
It was also very clear just how aroused and excited Mistress Anna had become from her submissive's pain. She kissed him, holding her body close to his, trying to feel his pain by pressing close. Finally, she lifted her shirt up over her head, exposing the bare flesh of her upper body which she then pressed against the helpless victim as she kissed him more deeply and passionately.
Finally she rose and slowly unstrapped the miserable submissive. "Get up," she barked.
He slowly rose, taking the board with him. It was positioned behind his thighs, and its weight pulled down painfully on his impaled testicles. As he straightened himself, the board pulled his balls between his legs and behind him, like a diabolically humbler; he immediately doubled over to relieve the pain from stretching and pulling.
Taking him firmly by the hair, Mistress Anna guided Kyle over to one wall of the room. He hobbled after her, trying to minimize the strain of movement pulling his scrotum. With a yank she turned him so he faced away from the wall and his ass pushed up against it. Taking the hammer and nails, she quickly nailed the board to the wall behind him. Once secured, he was essentially nailed to the wall by his testicles. He could not sit, it was painful to stand straight, and while his arms and legs were completely unrestrained, he could not move away from his current location. He stood, hunched over, in this one place, hands covering his groin and hips protectively.
From above, Mistress Anna pulled down a rope from a pulley attached to the ceiling. Forcing his right hand away from his groin, she tied Kyle's hand to the rope; she then repeated the procedure with his left hand and his arms were tied behind his back from the rope hanging from the ceiling. She pulled the rope up slightly to raise his arms up, which further pushed his body forward as the strappado position took hold. Kyle panted from pain, staring at the gray hard floor below him. A bit of drool dripped from his open mouth, but he didn't care, and just watched the small wet patch form beneath him.
Kyle's erection was gone. The agony of being nailed to a wall by his testicles had suppressed his arousal. Mistress Anna reached down and took his penis in hand, and spit on it. Then with a slow, rhythmic motion she began stroking him back to hardness. Within a minute his cock was hard and throbbing again. She continued to stimulate him, stroking with her bare hand, emphasizing the downstrokes, spending time on the sensitive head, pushing and manipulating with her thumbs.
As she masturbated the agonized man, his cries began to renew themselves. His arousal was demanding sperm from his testicles, and the action increased the pain that swathed his lower body. He began making small thrusting movements with his hips, in spite of his position. Steadily, relentlessly, the experienced dominatrix brought Kyle to the verge or orgasm, felt the contractions begin, and then let go. Kyle tried desperately to finish his orgasm and ejaculate in spite of her withdrawal, and had a little success, but not much. There were a couple of weak spurts of semen that dripped onto the floor beneath him and mingled with the saliva that was collecting there, but there was little pleasure. The pain, which was no longer sharp but an extensive dull ache across his hips and stomach, flooded back over him and prevented any real pleasure.
The frustration of the ruined orgasm made Kyle cry out. This pleased Mistress Anna and with a smile, she kissed him lightly on the forehead, patting his head. She then slid her jeans down, and then panties, revealing her perfect naked body. Even in his tortured state, Kyle stared and felt lust gathering inside him at the glorious image of his dominatrix's perfect nudity. He panted and suffered as she sat in the wooden chair before him, sliding her legs apart, clearly revealing her shaved pussy to him. Her fingers slid across her breasts, and then down her naked stomach until they reached between her legs, spreading and probing the soft skin.
She stimulated herself, and he watched, unable to move or approach her, unable to even touch himself as her nipples hardened and her neck and faced flushed. She finally made a small thrusting movement with her hips, grunting and moaning quietly as she stared at her tortured submissive, allowing his pain to help bring her to climax.
After her orgasm her limbs splayed wide and she tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling, listening to the quiet sobs of the male nailed to the wall in front of her.
Suddenly she rose, slid her clothes back on, and without a word left the cell and closed the door. Kyle was left alone with his agony, with know idea how long he might be there or what might happen next.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Applying for a position, Part 3

The next morning the door opened and Greg blinked at the bright light that flooded in. The silhouette of Miss Emily standing over him reminded him of where he was and what he was doing. He wanted, needed, this woman to become his mistress. Her perfect form stood over him and as he took a position of subservience before her he felt an erection growing. She was so beautiful and so cruel.

"Use your toilet box before coming out," she snapped as she unlocked his chains. "Did you masturbate last night?"

Squatting over the toilet box, he swallowed loudly, stomach cramping from sudden nerves as he slowly decided he had to tell the truth. "Yes, Miss Emily. I couldn't help it."

"What a pathetic loser you are," Miss Emily didn't sound that upset, though her voice had an undercurrent of annoyance. "Absolutely no control over yourself. And you want to be my sub... well. We shall see. First, a little punishment for your disobedience."

Miss Emily took a leash and attached it to Greg's collar. He crawled after her as she pulled the leash, urging him to keep up with her. The collar bit into his neck and he gagged slightly, all the while watching Miss Emily's muscular legs walking before him. He wanted her to touch him with those legs, to touch him with anything. So far, his main rewards had been brief touches of her fingers as she manipulated his bindings. He yearned for her to rub against him, slide her hand over his most sensitive parts even if the purpose was to deliver pain.

They went down the hall and into the darkened torture room that had nearly broken his resolve earlier. There, Miss Siobhan was waiting. She was naked except for an elaborate harness, including headgear with a ballgag and an armbinder which was tied to a post that rose out of a hole in the concrete floor. Apparently, Miss Siobhan was still very much the submissive to Miss Emily.

What Greg noticed most as he was led to a stool in the middle of the room, was the huge strapon cock attached to Miss Siobhan. The straps were fastened very tightly around her thin hips and legs, and the 9 inch phallus stood out and bounced slightly as she wriggled a little to get a more comfortable position.

Greg was quickly bent over and secured to the stool, hands and feet. His legs were spread slightly, his ass presented to both the women. He still had a raging erection which pointed straight down between his legs now that he was bent over.

"Very well, Siobhan, you know how to do this. Don't spare any mercy. I want to hear him cry. I want to see tears."

Greg shuddered a moment as he waited. Miss Siobhan was still restrained and had to work herself over to a good position before pushing the false cock between his buttocks. He cringed at the hardness which pressed between his cheeks and sought his anus, anticipating the increasing pressure and painful penetration.

It happened suddenly. Once positioned properly, Miss Siobhan shoved forward with her hips with all the force she could muster and the dildo ripped open his anus and sank deep inside. The sudden tearing pain made Greg scream and writhe against his bonds, which did not give way. Miss Siobhan pulled back until the phallus was almost completely withdrawn and then shoved again, hard. Greg screamed again, howling in pain. He was sure he was bleeding and torn, and the full nine inches could be felt pressing deep inside him. There was no time to prepare, no lubrication, no relaxation, just vicious thrusting.

Miss Emily walked around to Greg's front and put her hand on his cheek tenderly. She felt the wetness of his tears and sighed with a deep smile of satisfaction as his head and body bounced with each thrust from the woman behind him. Her hands slowly stroked his head, his neck, his arms, and then his back, as if trying to feel his humiliation and pain. As Miss Siobhan continued her rape from behind, Miss Emily leaned over and kissed her mouth passionately. Miss Siobhan did not slow a moment though she kissed back as well as she could with the ball gag in her mouth.

Miss Emily moved her attentions back to Greg, and felt the hard false cock just where it entered his body. She touched his distended anus and then slid her hand down to his balls, and finally his still hard erection. She stroked gently, invoking a sob from Greg as his wildest dreams were realized; the combined pain of being raped by Miss Siobhan, with the touch and stimulation of Miss Emily. The pleasure / pain was quickly building to a climax when Miss Emily called a halt and demanded that Miss Siobhan withdraw. Greg was both relieved that the rape was over, but his cock strained for Miss Emily's hand, the pain itself would have been welcome if he had been allowed release.

Alcohol was produced to disinfect Greg's torn and wounded anus. The stinging shock made him writhe and cry out once again as Miss Emily poured a liberal amount of the liquid between his buttocks. Greg's ass felt like it was on fire, and he could not help but pull and buck against the ropes which held him firmly tied to the stool. When the alcohol dried and the pain subsided, he collapsed on the stool, weak from his struggles. Miss Emily untied him and pushed him down to the ground, where he lay motionless, breathing heavily as he recovered from this punishment.

"Up, you lazy dog!!" Miss Emily's clear voice cut through his foggy brain and jerked Greg back to reality. He stood, spreading his legs slightly apart to help sooth his stinging anus. Miss Siobhan, who had her armbinder removed by this time, attached a tight ball harness with leash and led him out of the dark room and into the living room.

"On your knees! Miss Emily wants the carpet cleaned, and you are to do it! Pick every scrap of dust, every fleck of foreign material up from this carpet until it is completely clean. If you don't do a thorough job, you will be punished. Get to it!" Miss Siobhan seemed delighted with Greg's predicament, and kicked him in the ass, pushing him onto his stomach with an "OOOppphhh".

Greg spent the entire afternoon combing through the carpet, inch by inch, square foot by square foot, making sure it was spotless. He had begun to forget he was naked, and didn't think about his job or life outside of Miss Emily's at all. Mostly, he just wanted to please her, and hoped that if he did well she would touch him. He wouldn't even mind being punished, if that is what was required to feel her touch and relish her attention.

The sun was down and the evening was well advanced when Greg finished acting as a human vacuum. His knees hurt and eyes were strained from crawling around the floor, but he felt he had done a good job. He sat up and saw Miss Siobhan staring at him with a look of disgust. He bowed his head and knelt before her.

"Mistress Emily, what shall we do with this pathetic creature tonight? You promised that I could please you tonight, can I cause him pain? I would delight in making him writhe and suffer for you, my mistress." Miss Siobhan was Miss Emily's confirmed submissive, and addressed her as Mistress, something that Greg deeply wished. He was prepared to do anything to be honored in this way.

"Siobhan, I have my own plans tonight." Miss Emily slid up behind the gorgeous woman and wrapped arms around her supple body. Miss Siobhan turned and reciprocated in the embrace, and before long Greg was observing the two women in a deep kiss, with Miss Emily's hands roaming the naked body of Miss Siobhan. His cock became hard almost immediately, straining and longing for a touch to relieve his pent up desire from seeing the two woman fondling and kissing in front of him.

When they finally broke their embrace, Miss Emily came over to Greg and pushed him down on the ground. She took a plastic zip lock and fastened his hands behind his back tightly. She then grabbed him and lifted him to his feet and guided him to her bedroom. He had never seen this sanctuary, and felt excited, nervous and aroused to be there.

Miss Emily led him to the foot of her bed where a strange post had been inserted and bolted to a hole in the floor. It was a very simple (though sturdy) device that puzzled Greg at first. Miss Emily positioned Greg so that the post was immediately in front of his naked legs. She adjusted its height until the top was positioned at his waist.

With a quick click, Greg's ankles were clamped in place at the bottom of the post with small metal cuffs. He was unable to move his legs at all. Next, Miss Emily grabbed Greg's scrotum flesh, pulling hard on it until his testicles were distended painfully. She pulled his sack of balls up and placed them into a small, curved metal bar at the top of the post. A hinged top piece pivoted over on top of his distended flesh sack and clamped down hard, securing him in place with his scrotum and testicles pulled painfully up. He stood on his toes as well as he could to reduce the pressure and pain, but it still hurt and he moaned, crying quietly as the pain began to slowly increase and spread.

"Ah.... I do love malesong... " Miss Emily commented as Greg made quiet moans of pain in his new position. She then turned to Miss Siobhan and removed the few straps and harnesses that remained on that gorgeous body before pushing her down onto the bed playfully. Miss Emily fell on top of Miss Siobhan and the two kissed deeply, their bodies pressing against each other, arms and legs intertwining and hooking, always in motion. Miss Siobhan groped Miss Emily, hands sliding under her clothes and pulling them apart until slowly, Miss Emily's slim, muscular form was revealed.

Greg stood on his toes, watching has the dominatrix he was coming to desire more than anything in the world made out with a woman, just a few feet in front of him. He couldn't move more than an inch, fastened in the testicle pillory as he was. It hurt, his stretched balls throbbing with pain that was slowly spreading across his hips. The pain he felt seemed somehow a symbol of Miss Emily's desire and passion for her female submissive, used to taunt and cause him mental anguish.

Miss Siobhan was servicing Miss Emily with passion, her head buried deep between the domme's legs. She was making muffled moaning noises as she worked and followed Miss Emily's bucking hips. Miss Emily was making her own, somewhat louder moans of pleasure that were building. Greg watched and yearned to be part of the sensual play before him, his cock hard and eager, but his balls remained clamped in the pillory and all he could do is watch the two female bodies give each other pleasure.

The lesbian love making went on for almost two hours, using every position possible. Greg watched as their hips ground against each other, faces were smothered underneath soft female breasts and pussies, hands and fingers explored orifices just before him. Miss Emily climaxed at least three times, and Miss Siobhan twice. Through all of this, Greg was made to simply watch, and suffer as his balls stretched and his penis ached with desire. Tears dried on his face and his legs felt like they were ready to give out from attempting to lift himself on his toes to relieve the pressure on his testicles.

When the two women had finally reached their final climax and fell asleep in each others arms, Greg remained standing at the foot of their bed, watching them snuggle and sleep. He had almost come to accept the pain in his groin, but his legs were giving out and he began to panic. What would happen if he could no longer stand? He might slide, or fall down with his scrotum still locked in this infernal device. The result would not be pretty. He imagined the damage that could occur were he to suddenly find himself hanging with his full weight from his pinioned scrotum.

He waited. He knew he could not wake or interrupt the sleeping women without being punished. He desperately wanted to meet Miss Emily's expectations and gain her approval, but he was losing control. He needed to pee as well. He began sweating from pain and exertion, his skin slick with moisture.

Finally, Miss Siobhan stirred, and Greg took the opportunity to speak.

"Miss? Miss Siobhan? May I be released? I need to pee, and I don't want to have an accident and soil Miss Emily's bed or carpet. Please, Miss?"

Miss Siobhan looked at him with a sleepily annoyed look. She hated him, he could tell. If it was up to her, she would probably let him fall and be suspended by his genitals, and then laugh at his agony. But, she was also Miss Emily's submissive and had to look out for her mistresses interests.

"Mistress Emily? The male filth is speaking. Shall I take care of it?" Miss Siobhan asked in a low tone.

Miss Emily rolled over and looked at Greg. "You foul, disgusting piece of crap. What do you mean interrupting our sleep?"

Greg was crying again, the pain had torn him down to the point he was going to beg. "Please, Miss Emily. The pain is terrible, and I don't think I can stand much longer. If I slip and fall, unable to hold myself up... I may lose bladder control and soil your bedroom."

Miss Emily sighed deeply, and rolled over to the edge of the bed. Standing, Greg could see her full length naked body, impressive in every way. His erection continued to be as hard as a rock. She walked over to him and unlocked the clamp that held his testicles stretched up high. Greg almost collapsed, weary from standing for so long, but his ankles were still secured to the bottom of the pillory. Miss Emily left the room for a moment and then returned with a bucket, which she placed beneath him.

"There. Use it or lose it. You know, you go home tomorrow, and I have not made up my mind about you. I like the way you suffer, but you are just such a fucking wimp." She shook her head in disgust and disappointment that made Greg wince as he squatted and let his urine flow into the bucket.

When he was done, Miss Emily had Miss Siobhan remove the bucket and then she unlocked his ankle restraints. Her touch sent a thrill through his body, and the presence of her naked body so close to his was almost enough to make him climax, such was his desire for her. She attached the leash to his collar and led him from the room and placed him back in his closet, in the dark, his collar chained to the floor with about a foot of chain that prevented much movement.

That night he masturbated repeatedly, thinking of the two women, especially Miss Emily, as they made love. He squeezed his balls to create the same pain he experienced as he had watched them. His sperm spurted onto his stomach and the floor as he dreamed of Miss Emily's touch. He knew he would be unable to hide his activity from Miss Emily tomorrow, but he couldn't help it. His cock had become raw from rubbing and his semen no longer flowed when his final dry orgasm was painfully done and he fell asleep.

The next morning he was awakened by a hard kick with a boot. He yelped and scrambled to the side, jerked to a halt by the short chain that held is neck a foot away from the floor. Looking up he saw Miss Emily standing over him, wearing black jeans, a tight knit gray shirt and heavy boots. The look on her face was unmistakable disgust as she saw his limp, raw penis and the dried semen spread all over his body and the floor.

Without a word, she unchained him and dragged him into the torture room, where she tied his wrists together and then pulled them up on a pulley until he was suspended above the floor. He swung there, hanging from his arms, as she walked in front of him, lifted his reddened cock and then dropped it in disgust. Obtaining a whip that hung from a nail on the wall she began to flog him without any delay.

Each stroke was like a knife slicing into his body. He screamed and wriggled as he hung from the pulley but he was totally exposed to her vicious punishment. Stroke after stroke cut across his body, his back, his front, hips, and even legs. He jerked, screamed, begged, pleaded and apologized. There was no response or letup in the punishment.

When it finally stopped Greg hung with his head down sobbing with pain and humiliation. Miss Emily looked satisfied and left the room for a while. Greg wondered how long she might leave him there and he felt blood trickling down a few places of his back and chest from there the whip had torn his flesh.

She returned after a few minutes and stood before him. Wiping alcohol on his wounds once again made Greg scream, jerking uncontrollably as the dominatrix treated his damaged flesh in the most painful manner. When she was done she stepped in front of Greg and lifted his limp head to face her.

"Do you still wish to be my slave?"

Greg gathered all his willpower and answered. "Yes, please, Miss."

She nodded. "You are not ready. You have promise but not control. I will take you again next weekend, but only if you observe my wishes during this next week."

"Yes, Miss. I shall do as you say."

Miss Emily took out a strong but clear plastic device. She took his limp cock in hand and slid it into the device, clicked it in place and then added another device to it which clicked in place tightly around the base of his scrotum. The final click was a tiny padlock which locked the device in place. The key went around Miss Emily's neck on a chain, hanging between two perfect breasts.

"I have placed you in a chastity device. It will not allow you to have an erection, and covers your penis so that you can not stimulate yourself. You shall wear this for the coming week. In fact, you will wear it until I decide to remove it. Is that clear?"

Greg nodded his head.

"Very well, when I let you down you will go to the front door and put on your clothes. You will leave and resume your normal life. Return here at 6 PM next Friday. Remove all your clothes before you ring the doorbell for admittance. Is this clear?"

Greg nodded his head, "Yes, Miss."

"Very well. During the next week you are not permitted to touch any woman in any way. Any command that any woman gives you is to be obeyed completely and without question. Is this clear?"

Greg nodded his head slowly, wondering what that might lead to.

Miss Emily slapped him, hard. "Answer me!"

"Yes, Miss Emily. I understand and will obey!"

Miss Emily slowly lowered his body and unfastened all his restraints. When he was free, he mumbled "Thank you Miss Emily," and looked at her beautiful face and form before he walked to the front door, found his folded clothes and put them on is sore body, and then left the house. He felt elated that he was to be able to return, frustrated that he was in chastity, and afraid of what the week might bring.

All in all, he had made progress in becoming the official submissive to the most beautiful dominatrix he had ever seen, but he knew he had work to do.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Sperm Producer

The rolling waves of stimulation in my hardened cock began yet again. My mind put itself on hold as I concentrated on the physical pleasures that were suddenly flooding my groin. A warmth and urge to thrust overcame me as it always did, and I went with it, pushing my hips and straining as my muscles convulsed.

I grunted, my sounds echoing those of another man undergoing similar sensations a few tables down from me. I barely heard him, I just felt the semen gathering, the sperm joining and pressing, crying to be released. I shook, convulsing, letting my muscles contract involuntarily as they sucked the seminal fluid through the vas deferens and finally with a loud cry, I spurted a huge load of cum out of my rock hard cock and into the small bottle dangling just below it.

The humiliation of being forced to orgasm and spew my seed into a jar in a room full of other men doing exactly the same thing had long since disappeared. My days were simple. Strapped down to the inclined metal table, wires strapped to my cock and balls, a probe carrying current into my anus next to my prostate, I lay there waiting as the minutes and hours ticked by.  My cock and balls extended through a hole in the table, exposed to those that might walk down the aisle before me. Once every couple of hours the automatic stimulation began, carrying a surging, pulsing current of electricity through my genitalia, forcing me to climax and deposit more sperm into the cooled container below me.

It was agony. Long hours of boredom with a very few minutes of sexual ecstasy over which I had no control. I wasn't allowed to touch my cock or be in any way part of my own pleasuring; it was all controlled remotely and automatically to generate the maximum amount of sperm output.  Thus, my wrists were more or less permanently locked behind my back with some thin but very strong metal manacles. Talking was forbidden and those that attempted it had their heads locked in a sort of metal cage which included a metal strap that ran over the front of their mouth. Inside the strap was a metal tongue which protruded into the disobedient man's mouth, pressing into and down his throat, causing a constant gag reflex. Attempts to talk wearing this device inevitably caused vomiting.

We didn't talk.

As I lay in place, waiting for the next orgasm, one of the attendant women walked down the aisle slowly, checking on the sperm producers. The women were always cute, gorgeous and young in a girl next door way. My favorite was Cecile, the woman that had been in training when I arrived and was primarily responsible for me and several others. She wasn't more than 21, had beautiful dark hair and a few freckles. When she walked by her perfect body drew the attention of all the men, including me. If I hadn't been strapped down securely, I would have tried to reach her.

I hated being a sperm producer. The sterile, electrically induced orgasms weren't real to me. I needed Cecile under me, legs gripping my thighs, pumping inside her as she gasped. I needed to deposit my seed inside of her, rather than the little refrigerated bottle below me.

It had been almost two years since I had been transferred from the prison to the sperm production facility. They had given me some sort of drug, or combination of drugs. My erection was almost constant now, even at night when I was allowed to rest in a tiny private room. My testicles had enlarged to twice their size, and produced sperm constantly, whether I orgasmed and cleared them or not. In the morning when they came to guide us to the milking tables, my testicles always ached badly, filled with sperm that needed to come out. After a day of ejaculating, my balls didn't ache but the rest of my muscles down there did.

Today was no different. Cecile walked by slowly, stopped and checked the wires on my cock. Her fingers fondled me as she did and I moaned. I could swear she did that on purpose, just to torture me. The probe in my anus had come loose and she pushed it further in, making me grunt in pain. Then she looked at me for a moment, her beautiful face close to mine, before turning and walking out.

The stimulation cycles were coming faster these days. It didn't even seem like more than an hour before they began again, the muscles in my whole body tensing as if to help those between my legs do their job as the pleasure swept over me, the pulsing shocks designed to get the maximum amount of muscle contraction going to squeeze the sperm out. I grunted and then cried out as I ejaculated another huge load out and down into the container below.

A few minutes later it was the end of the day and the other males were unstrapped one by one and taken to their rooms. I figured they put us in separate rooms because the drugs they gave us made us so constantly horny and erect that we would just end up fucking each other all night, no choice. That would be a bad thing. Sperm was precious, there were only so many good sperm producing men left, and none of it was to be wasted.

Cecile came to unstrap me last of all, put the handling pole onto my collar (a 3 foot pole that allowed the girls that kept us to handle us without getting close), and pushed me to my cell.  The cell was tiny with just enough room for a bed, a toilet and a sink. Once inside, she released the handling pole and closed the door. It had no handle on the inside. No lock was necessary.

Food was provided a little while later through the slot in the door. I ate without the help of my hands, something I had learned to do the first few days I was incarcerated at the Sperm Product Facility in Tempe, Arizona.  It had been at least six months since the last time my hands had been free, and that was only for a few minutes.

I managed to do some exercises. Most of the other sperm producers didn't bother, they let their bodies go and were flabby; my body was still tight and muscular, and I was convinced this helped keep me sane. Several of the others spent a lot of time on the tables humming, drooling, sobbing, groaning, and maybe even chewing on their own flesh.  Insanity was easy here.

As I lay on my bed in the sterile white room I heard an unexpected noise. The door handle turned and the door swung open. I quickly sat up. In the door frame I saw Cecile, the lovely, cute, sexy Cecile. It was very unusual to see any of the keepers late in the evening like this and I stared at her wonderingly. She in turn stood motionless and stared at me, biting her lip as if thinking intensely about something she was still considering but had not decided yet.

With a sudden motion, she entered my tiny room and closed the door most of the way. She placed a small chunk of wood on the floor to keep the door from shutting and then turned to face me. She reached behind her back and unzipped the white and lime green uniform dress she wore every day. As the cloth slid off her shoulders I gasped at the smoothness of her flesh, the curves of her breasts, and then as the dress fell to the floor around her feet, I saw her flat stomach giving way to the triangular patch between her legs. Perhaps it was my unique situation, but I truly believe she was the most beautiful, sexy woman I had ever seen.

She removed her bra, throwing it to the ground, exposing perfect breasts with hard, dark nipples. I rose and stood as she slid her panties down, exposing her sex to me fully; I observed the pronounced mound (shaved) and lips that protruded slightly from between her thighs. I looked in her eyes and saw the fear mixed with desire there, and observed how her breasts rose and fell with her rapid, accelerated breathing.

My erection was the hardest it had ever been, straining toward her of it's own accord. My wrists were still bound behind me but I moved forward and swiftly pushed her body against the wall behind her. As my body pressed against hers my hardened cock found its way between her legs and then pressed into her soft flesh. She was soaking wet, and it was easy to slid in. My lips met hers and she sighed as our tongues met; one leg lifted and wrapped around my ass as her arms wrapped around my shoulders. She held me, drawing me in until her naked breasts pressed against my chest.

My cock slid up into her as she raised her right leg up. I pushed hard, pressing deep within her, feeling the touch of a woman for the first time in over two years. My body pinned hers to the wall, and as I began thrusting her other leg rose and wrapped around my hips, allowing the deepest penetration.

There we fucked, hard and fast. The feeling of her wet flesh wrapped around my hardened erection made me lose all control and I simply pushed in and out as hard as I could. My huge, enlarged balls slapped against her as they swung back and forth, and within moments I felt the swelling surge of fluids building and getting ready for a massive ejaculation.

With her head flung back, eyes open and staring at the ceiling, she cried out as she reached climax just moments before I let my huge load spurt inside of her. I thrust deep, hard, impaled Cecile against the wall as I ejaculated once, twice, three times, four times, and kept going. My body produced huge amounts of semen and sperm and it all flooded her inside at that one moment. She rode me like a horse, bouncing up and down as I pushed and came.

Eventually, it was over. It was without a doubt the best fuck I had ever had, and perhaps ever will have. We slid down to the floor, exhausted, covered with shining sweat from our sudden and intense intercourse.

When she had recovered for a moment, she stood and put her clothing back on. I would have done it again, and tried to rise to indicate that I was ready and able, but she pushed me back to the floor with one foot and held me there. She zipped her dress back up and then leaned over and spoke to me.

"If you ever, ever talk of this, I will have you castrated."

I got the message and closed my mouth.

She turned and left, closing the door behind her.


Over the next two weeks, the same thing happened twice more. After a day of boredom interspersed with violent orgasms which forced sperm to spurt into the cold container below my dangling cock and balls, I was returned to my cramped cell. Late at night, Cecile returned to take my cock and ride it for her own pleasure.

Until one night the door opened and Cecile entered with another woman. The new woman was tall, about 31 or 32 years old with short dark hair, long muscular legs and perfect breasts. The woman seemed unsure of herself, and a little shocked when she saw me laying on the bed with my swollen testicles and constantly hard cock sticking up.

"It's OK, Liza, he is tied up permanently and can't free himself," Cecile said. "He is also one of the best specimens we have. Top quality sperm, guaranteed. And I must say... his cock is large and hard enough to give you quite an experience."

Liza moved toward me and I followed her as she walked. She had a slow, catlike movement that was sensual without being overtly sexy. She pulled her black dress up, revealing strong thighs ascending to a smoothly shaved pussy which glistened with moisture. My cock began throbbing, bouncing back and forth in anticipation.

"I know this is your first time," Cecile said to Liza as she guided her. "This is a rare opportunity, to be able to fuck a real, uncastrated male. Here, straddle him here."

Cecile helped Liza get positioned over my cock as her legs split and knelt on either side of my hips.

"Take your pussy lips and spread them just a bit, then lower yourself," Cecile said. Liza spread her flesh apart and then lowered herself until I felt the head of my cock touch her pussy. I moaned and pushed upward, trying to get inside, but Liza reacted and lifted herself off.

"Don't worry, Liza, it's natural for him to react. He is pumped so full of hormones that getting inside you and feeling your pleasure is all he can think about. His purpose in life is to produce sperm, and you are lucky enough to have the money to get him! Now go for it, enjoy it!"

Liza slid back down on my cock and moaned from the sensation as I sank deep inside her. I thrust upward, and she began to press down, and then up, riding my cock. I moaned and writhed on the bed, this sexy brunette sliding up and down on my penis, drawing the sperm from me, stimulating me, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.

I cried out, moaning, crying, almost screaming with pleasure as my muscles contracted and my cock spasmed deep inside her vagina. I felt myself coming, spurting sperm into her, the ejaculations happening over and over. Fucking a real woman was so much better than the horrible, sterile electric orgasms I had 10 or 12 times a day in the sperm collection room. The soft, wet flesh surrounded my cock and took me into a different world and my whole body was consumed with the orgasmic pleasure.

When I had completely emptied my balls into her, she slowly slid off my cock, leaving it with a glistening sheen. My erection had softened (it never completely went away any more). A slight dribble of sperm was seeping out between her pussy lips as she stood.

"Oh, my dear. Liza, don't lose that sperm! It is valuable, don't waste the money you paid for it! Here, lie down for a bit." Cecile pushed me off the bed and I fell to the floor with a thud. Liza lay down with her legs in the air.  From this, I understood that Cecile was taking money under the table from women that wanted to experience real sex, and get pregnant the old fashioned way rather than with artificial insemination from a sperm farm, which had become the standard.

From that night on, there was a string of women that were brought to my room late at night, each fucking me until I filled them with my sperm, then leaving me to dream and hump my cot in frustration and never ending desire.

Cecile no longer fucked me, and I soon understood why. She entered my cell one day and I could clearly see her slightly protruding stomach. I looked at it, and she looked at me, and nodded her head. "Yes, slave, you have done your job. Is it interesting to you to see how your sperm is being used? You have many, many children far and wide. This one will be more real to you because you can see it growing inside me, but there are thousands of others like it."

I looked at her with amazement, for this was the first time it had ever hit home that my sperm was being used to impregnate thousands of women. Without thinking about it, I began to speak, "Then... you are pregnant with my child..."

I never finished my sentence. Pain burst in my face as Cecile slapped it, hard, harder than I imagined possible. I fell to the floor and felt her kick my stomach. I curled up, trying to protect myself with my knees. Cecile pulled out the small cattle prod all the keepers had and shoved it between my legs and into my distended testicles. The shock was horrible and I screamed as the pain shattered my testicles. She shoved the prod between my legs, forcing them apart again and the electrical torture ripped into my balls again, the pain covering my entire lower body.

Sobbing, I lay curled on the floor, arms still tied behind my back. Cecile had left and when she returned she brought the matron with me. "There. It's the third time he has tried to speak."

The matron had a metal cage which she slipped over my head, and with a hard motion jammed the metal protrusion into my mouth. I gagged on the iron tongue which filled my mouth.

The matron stood and shook her head. "It seems to be like this. He was one of the top producers once. But recently... he just hasn't had as much in him. And now this. It might be time for castration and expulsion."

Cecile turned and just before she closed the door, gave me a look that clearly said "I warned you..."

Wednesday, October 19, 2011


This is unreal. Here I am driving up the 405, going to the Getty. Dressed in my street slut clothes, already getting hot, because I am meeting someone who will take me, and do things to me and trip me. Another girl who has the same fetish, the same sense of fun. In the Getty for god's sake, what a place to meet. I suppose it is safe, a good place.

What am I thinking, nothing is safe, and I don't want it to be safe. If I wanted safe, I would be home with my boyfriend. I want it to be exciting. I want to feel life by living it on its edge. 

After parking, heading up to the museum on the tram, I feel out of place. Not because of who I am, but because of what I am there to do. There is a contrast between my purpose and the purpose of this place.

I sit in front of the Iris painting, as instructed. Waiting. Enjoying the art, so beautiful, sublime. Such a contrast to me and my purpose for being there. I feel like a roman at an orgy with great paintings all around me while I debauch anyone and anything. The contrast makes the anticipated pleasure (and pain) even more exciting. This girl is good… she is already playing with my mind and I have not laid eyes on her.

The tension in the air is heightened by the painting in front of me. I see it, but all I can see is the girl. I am trying to relax. Why am I tense, this is what I wanted, this is what I have been anticipating. As I begin to work my relaxation, I my vision is obscured for a moment as leather is slipped over my head and buckled around my neck. The collar went on so quickly I could not have resisted if I had wanted to. As I begin to turn, I hear the click of a lock. Not just a collar. It's locked on. The electricity surges through my body, my limbs feel like they are on fire as I turn and see her. Her hair is a dark brunette, not the blond or red I saw in the pictures. God, she is beautiful, she could be a sultry fashion model except for the little twists. The hair is just not quite the right color… the clothes are not prep but more a subtle mockery of prep. A Jewish mafia princess. The lovely charm bracelet with skulls. The playfully cruel smile as she says "caught you…" and leans down for a kiss.

The kiss actually relaxes me. It feels so natural. Her lips are wet, and full, and soft, and communicate to me that She desires me, all of me. I want Her to take me, now. "Touch my breasts" she whispers. It turns out to be more than just an invitation to cop a feel, there is a chain. She moans as I pull on it and her breath suddenly catches as the nipple clamps on each end pull off.

My mind comes back to me and I remember where we are as I hear the footsteps of the guard coming in to the room. I realize I am sitting on her hips, straddling Her. The guard stops, sees us as I get up off of Her, and we smile at her. The guard smiles back and moves on.

We sit in the tram on the way back down the hill, touching each other, drawing the surreptitious stares of other art enthusiasts. We are touching too much, too closely for public, I know that, but I can't help it. We'll be out of here in a minute. I am wearing the nipple clamps now, and they heighten the sensations under my black tank top. The top is too tight; you can see the outline of the clamps through the fabric. My slave collar and lock must be drawing attention too.

At the bottom of the hill, She hooks her finger in the D-ring of my collar and guides me to a large black SUV parked right next to mine. Fate. I've had a little time to look Her over by now, She is a goddess. The quirk in Her soul is visible in Her demeanor, the way she laughs with me, jokes, making me feel like an old girlfriend while at the same time firmly guiding me to Her SUV and placing me in the back like cargo. I am soooo looking forward to this release.

We drive a while. The nipple clamps hurt some, especially when She takes a sharp turn, She drives aggressively. I wonder where we are going, I can't really see too well, though enough. She parks and opens the back for me to get out, whacks my boots with "get your lazy ass out of there…" We are under a freeway overpass.

We are in the open. Change clothes here in the open? "Take off the clothes." The feeling of vulnerability, exposure is getting serious. Am I going to let this bitch make me get naked outdoors? I think so. Taking the top off hurts, with the clamps, but getting naked the rest of the way is a challenge too. As your lusty taunts urge me on, I strip, leaving only boots, collar and nipple clamps. What a fucking rush. I hope no one comes by, and I hope someone will. Standing naked there I am aware of every curve of my body, every area of bare skin.

She throws me a cinch corset, which I put on around my waist, turning my back for Her to tighten. I've worn these before, but this one is cruel, metal stays and pre-contoured. It strikes me that she knew my size, and I feel a pang… has she been stalking… She uses her foot in the small of my back and pulls tight. My figure goes all hourglass, and it becomes more difficult to breathe. I love these things; they make you look sexy and uncomfortable at the same time. I feel completely bound while my arms and legs are completely free.

She whips me around and looks at me with a knowing and approving smile that makes me feel even more exposed. "Show me your wrists!" I hold out my arms and the wicked looking metal cuffs go on in a snap, tight. "Sit pretty for me". The ankle cuffs go on. I am really bound now, the play is under way and won't stop, I know it. I am committed, in my own mind, I will not turn back. She kisses me and somehow with me tied and fettered in this way, it feels different. It is still sweet, but She is in charge, I want the kiss to please Her.

As the kiss breaks, She whispers to me "when you get to dominate me, you are sooo going to love to hurt me after today." This makes my blood run cold, as I know She has something evil in mind. I wonder what is coming, I can feel the anticipation of having Her under my control but know that first I will endure Her ministrations.

It's almost impossible to walk, there are only a couple of inches give with the ankle cuffs. I hobble to the SUV door, and She gives my ass a hard slap that stings to hurry me on. I can't lift my legs to get in. I feel Her swing me around by the shoulders "God I want to fuck you from my knees here and now, you are so gorgeous…" I blush and She forces my head down and lays me down on my back. A blind fold is placed over my eyes "to keep my fav spot secret."

The SUV hums as I listen, laying blindfolded. The hum of the road turns to bumps and thumps as we go off road. Shit, where is She taking me. This is scary. Anything could happen out here and I just walked in to it. Then why am I salivating and I don't even have a gag in yet? The off road means privacy, too. It will give Her more leeway, a better scene. I discipline my mind… have confidence, let go… get in to the scene.

The SUV stops, and the door opens. "Out bitch". God, I have no idea where we are, but I hear her fumbling in the bag, I smell the fresh leather and the hear the jingling of metal. "Spread your knees." I bite my lip in anticipation and lean my head back on the car. I know what is coming next and want it. The dildo slips in with an ease that demonstrates how aroused I am.

Then a little surprise. A butt plug. The familiar slip of KY as it slides in and I gasp. The leather strap goes on as expected, holding both in place. I love the feel of leather, and She tightens it, hard, to make sure nothing slips. I feel both safe and afraid at the same time… She knows what She is doing. I hope She is not going to make me walk very far in this, the leather strap is spreading my ass and pussy cheeks and it will be a bitch to move. I let Her know, "I am going to fuck you up
when it is my turn…"

She loosens my ankle chains, attaches a leash to my collar and for 20 minutes we walk. More like waddle… it isn't very far but I don't move fast with two huge dildos in me held in by straps.

The blindfold comes off and I see the abandoned railroad suspension bridge just ahead. She takes pink rope (god how appropriate and evil) and slings it over a high support on the bridge. I am sweating, in spite of the cool breeze and shaking with both fear and anticipation. I wonder if I will be able to fuck Her up as nicely as she is doing to me. She sure looks good in that non-preppie outfit...

She returns, and gives me a last (I think) long, deep kiss, and quietly says "this is it dear, take your safety call now, you won't be able to for a while…" I think I feel tears trickling down my cheeks. My answer… I reach out with my cuffed hands, grab Her by the hair, and kiss her hard, violently, deep. "Let's get to it then." ......

Thursday, October 6, 2011


She observed him for a while, watching his movements and facial expressions. He was a typical living male and as such held a fascination for her. Not that it was an attraction, per se, for she didn't really like him that much. But she did lust after him, or rather she passionately desired that which made him so unique and different from her.

He in turn saw the beautifully crafted facade that she presented to him. The long straight black hair, shining like silk in the low light. Her oval face with absolutely clear, light skin punctuated by two dark pools that were her unblinking brown eyes. Her perfectly formed red lips parted slightly to show just a glimpse of white, even teeth. Her body, where it was not covered by her black dressed, presented smooth skin that appeared to flow over delicate bones and just a hint of rippling muscle.

If he noticed that she didn't blink, he didn't let on. Most people didn't. Most people just felt there was something a tiny bit odd about her, but then chalked it up to the somewhat preternatural ambiance that surrounded her beauty. There is usually something odd about the very, very beautiful, just as there is about the very, very ugly. Mostly, they didn't care because they were too busy either being jealous or trying to control their lust.

He continued talking and she continued to listen with one part of her mind, the part she had trained to attract and deal with men. This one had actually come to her, so the process had not been difficult at all and was nearing an end.

She turned her head slightly to the side in a calculated manner that created a curious, almost shy look that hinted at deeper meaning and attraction.

"What makes you think that you want this?" she asked in a quiet voice that cut through silence like a knife.

"Oh, well... I had been told and heard through a number of sources that this was in fact the ultimate experience. And now, of course, seeing you and..." his voice trailed off as if he was unable to locate the part of his brain that controlled speech.

She slowly uncrossed and recrossed her legs, watching his eyes flitter from her face down to her naked limbs, then past her waist and bust where the dress pulled and revealed the shape of her body beneath. His heart was beating faster, pumping blood to the flush in his face.

"I like you," she lied reaching her hand out to take his and in the process drawing him closer. Their joined hands rested on the naked flesh of her knee.

"I have enjoyed our time together. I would like us to be closer." She looked down at their hands and concentrated for a moment on the pulsing of the blood in his flesh where it touched hers.

She leaned over to him, her long black hair sliding over her shoulders and hanging down on each side of her face as her lips approached his. As their lips touched gently at first and then more urgently, opening to admit tongues and become more playful, she let go of his hand and slid both her arms around his shoulders. He reciprocated, breathing deeply and pressing closer to her. She felt his lust building, blood pounding in him, making him erect and pushing his mind to the state where he would most of his rationality.

Her breasts touched and pressed his body, her hips slid along his thighs as she repositioned to sit on his lap, facing him. Her legs were spread on each side when she did this, a symbol of her willingness for more intimate contact.

She broke the kiss and brushed her lips across his cheek as she moved to nuzzle his neck. Raising her head slightly so her lips were next to his ear, she whispered "I want you. All of you. Inside me. I want to take you. Now."

They struggled with each other's clothes momentarily, the only thing slowing them down their continued intense touching, kissing and fondling of each other. When they were finally naked, he turned and lifted her up and then down onto the floor, on her back, her legs spread and hooked around his hips. He slid into her with no effort and gasped as her inner flesh surrounded and rubbed his erection. It was a unique sensation to him, he had never experienced the level of stimulation he was experiencing at that moment, and his surprised eyes showed it.

She wrapped her arms under his and up behind his shoulders, holding him close as he pushed deep within her, and she rocked her hips up to meet him. It felt right, having him inside, but she wanted more. Much, much more.

As his thrusts began and his climax built faster than he had ever imagined possible, she smelled his scent and listened to his pounding heart to determine the exact right moment. The total experience of taking him inside of her was leading her to a different kind of climax, one that was much deeper, passionate, and complete than anything he would ever have.

At just the right moment, she opened her mouth, curling back those perfect lips to expose the perfect small but razor sharp fangs, and bit into his neck. He let out a muffled cry that blended nicely with his moans as she sliced into his carotid artery. Her lips sealed on his neck as his heart pushed rich, hot blood into her mouth, spurting and filling her throat as quickly as she could swallow.

He continued thrusting, letting her drink his blood as he copulated and lost himself in the combined sensual experiences of having both his sperm and his blood sucked and consumed by her.

As she sucked and rocked with him, urging his body to give her everything, he began to convulse. She knew this, it was the point at which the male's climax reached its height, pushing out body fluids, giving her its life in a paroxysm of joy and pleasure. It satisfied her that they both derived a peak of ecstasy from their joining; her entire body was pulsing hot with pleasure and satiation. For a moment she lost herself, gripping his struggling and convulsing body with a steel grip that prevented him from moving away from her even a hair's breadth, and simply felt the pleasure of dual orgasm.

For her, it went on for some time. The warmth in her hips might fade after a while but was bolstered by the circulating warmth of his blood that filled her and gave the rest of her body the extended climax. She consumed him, sucking everything from him until he lay on top of her unmoving. Even then she continued suckling on his neck, drawing the last bits of blood that lingered deep in his body, no longer pumped by the heart but responding to her insistent siphoning.

At last she released the body on top of her own, letting her arms and legs collapse in exhaustion. Satiated, filled, happy, she slowly pushed his motionless form off of her. The body rolled to one side and fell the short distance to the floor with a soft thud.

She rose, and staggered to the bedroom, closing the blackout curtains against the burning sun that would soon appear. The tryst had lasted most of the night, and had ended most satisfactorily. For both of them, she hoped.