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Subject: {ASSM} "Tag" (M/F, Rules)
Date: Sun, 20 Oct 2002 09:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "TagEdited.txt" begin>

	This is a sexual story copyrighted by me, Shon Richards, so 
please don't make any money from it.  I welcome, read and respond to 
all e-mail at  Really.  It makes my day 
like you wouldn't believe.  How come you haven't written already?
	For more of my stories you can check out

	Note, this story was originally posted in Ruthie's Club during 
the week of December 31st, 2001.  And you say I haven't written 
anything lately.

By Shon Richards

 "Tag," a voice said behind me.

I set the book back where I had found it and turned around to look at 
the woman. She was a short woman with dark skin and a heart shaped 
face. Her hair was almost a crew cut, short, curly and as black as 
night. She was wearing a casual white blouse and blue jeans but her 
demeanor was strictly formal.

The woman looked around, trying to come to a decision. I noticed her 
neck had a few rope burns that were almost healed. I wondered how this 
black woman would look bound and nude.

"The women's bathroom," she said and my stomach sank. "Go now, find a 
stall, and I'll join you in five minutes.

I raised my hand to show the ring. "You've spotted my ring, but I don't 
see yours.

Her delicate eyebrows frowned at me, but then she smiled. She reached 
inside her shirt and pulled out the ring. It was hanging on a silver 
necklace. I thought it was a great idea - the ring was almost too large 
for my hand.

"Satisfied?" she asked coldly. I was. I recognized the ring. It was 
green like my ring, but it possessed a ruby while mine was gem less. 
The ruby was uniquely cut and glowed next to her dark fingers. I knew 
the ruby was sharp for I had cut others and myself with it before in 
the past.

"Satisfied," I answered. My pulse was racing. "What did you desire?" I 
remembered her command perfectly but I was hoping she had changed her 

"The women's bathroom," she repeated. "Go now, find a stall, and I'll 
join you in five minutes. I will not repeat myself again.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

It's strange. Normal people have no idea how difficult it is to enter 
the bathroom of the opposite gender. Walking through that door with the 
skirt silhouette made my palms sweat and my feet trip over themselves. 
One stall was occupied and I froze at the door.

Of course, I thought about disobeying. It would be dishonest to say I 
didn't. I knew though. I knew she had sent me in first to see if I 
would accept her commands. She was watching me, waiting for my 
decision. I didn't even see her but I knew if I walked away, she would 
demand my ring as a trophy.

Losing my ring, and my place in the Game, was unthinkable.

I sucked in my breath and walked in. Although no other women were 
there, I kept my eyes forward. It was as if even seeing the bathroom 
was something dirty. I went straight to an empty stall and closed the 
door behind me. As I sat down on the toilet seat, I just stared at my 
shoes. I speculated on whether they were too masculine, dreading 
discovery at any moment.

The five minutes dragged. I didn't have my watch but I suspect she 
waited longer than five minutes. Part of me worried that she might not 
come at all. She may just keep me pinned here in my humiliation. 
According to what rules I have learned, this would be perfectly 
acceptable as long as she gave up her ring to me in the end.
She did come. Right to my stall she came, which confirmed that my shoes 
were too masculine. I didn't have time to be mortified. The waiting was 
just as hard for her as it had been for me. Her eyes were intense and I 
knew this would be fast and hard.

I watched as she unzipped her jeans to reveal bright red panties and 
thighs the color of chocolate. She pulled her jeans off in the tight 
space and I was intensely close to her wriggling body. Her panties came 
off and I sighed at the sight of her hairless sex. Smooth and dark, it 
had a tiny bit of white moisture between her lips. I could easily 
imagine that moisture forming when she saw my ring and I felt a bit of 

My captor threw her jeans and panties onto my lap and I almost moaned 
my frustration. She climbed onto my thighs with her shoes and then 
pushed me back against the back of the toilet. First one leg swung over 
my shoulders and then the other and my hands grabbed her buttocks to 
keep her balance. Her fingers gripped my hair while one arm reached for 
the wall. In this manner, she mounted my face.

I didn't need to be commanded. With this lithe woman on my shoulder and 
her ass in my hands, I went to work. My mouth opened the dark pussy 
pressed against it and my tongue sought her secrets. My shoulders ached 
from the weight she was pushing on me, but I was strong enough. Perhaps 
my strength was why I was chosen to play the Game.

I found out something about the pussy of a black woman. It wasn't much 
different from any other pussy but I was greatly aroused anyway. Her 
sex was sweaty from the jeans, tangy from the arousal, and completely 
delicious. My fingers sank into her buttocks as my own desire ached.

She rode my face towards the end. It was rough and it bruised my lips 
but my tongue never relented. Flicking and whipping inside her sex, my 
tongue tried to please her on the off chance that she may deign to 
allow me pleasure. I will never forget the sight of her dark skin so 
close to my eyes and the way her waist moved as she fucked my face.

A toilet flushed and my mouth froze. The threat of discovery terrified 
me but it didn't stop my captor. She continued to ride me, grinding her 
clit against my lips until her orgasm finally came in tiny whimpers. My 
ears were crushed against me as her thighs clenched and my tongue could 
feel her quiver from the inside.

"Very good," she said as she dismounted. I sat there obediently, 
silently praying for her to release me. My face tingled from the body 
sweat that had collected on my lips and cheeks.

She reached around her neck and unclasped her necklace. It appeared I 
wouldn't even get a glance at her breasts. It was times like these that 
I regretted there were no tag-backs.

"Here you go," she said as she handed me the ring. I removed the one I 
was wearing and gave it to her. We put our rings on together, each of 
us aware of our new positions.

I have to say, the one Master ring felt good to wear again.

"Good-bye," I said, dismissing her. I wished I knew her name, but names 
are a dangerous thing and I couldn't command her because of the rule on 
tag-backs. Besides, it's also considered bad form. Knowing the name of 
a player is power, and that kind of power could be abused.

I left the bathroom and came face to face with a woman coming in. My 
smile was the only answer I gave her. It's impossible to describe the 
new confidence I had. Moments before, I feared discovery. In possession 
of the Master ring, I feared nothing. The woman must have sensed my 
courage for she offered no protest or complaint as I continued to shop.

The black woman had left me aroused and hungry. I thought of Terri 
Brighton. Terri was a player who commanded me to fuck her at a motel 
late one night. She made the mistake of abusing me greatly that night 
for her desires were quite demanding. My ass had been violated, and 
some of her degradations were terrible in their ingenuity. I was so 
angered, and so new to the Game, I snuck her wallet from her purse when 
she cleaned herself in the bathroom. I found her name and address and 
from that day forth, the power was mine.

Terri was who I came to when I was in possession of the Master ring and 
impatient. Quite a few times I'd gone to her house and demanded sex. 
Once I received a blowjob in my car while parked in her driveway. It 
was late in the afternoon and I remembered the speed and fear of her 
sucking. She was worried about her husband coming home and feared a 
divorce, but oddly enough, she wouldn't risk disqualifying herself from 
the Game.

No one does.

I thought of Terri but I put that desire on hold. There was no telling 
when I might get the Master ring again. The last time had been a month 
and the wait had been unbearable. Every time I went out of my house, I 
debated wearing the submission ring. Some times, I didn't wear it out 
of fear of being used, and some days I would wear it for fear of seeing 
the Master ring and not being available to be used. The burden of 
wearing the Master ring was exactly the opposite. It was an itch, a 
heady feeling of power over the sexual possession of one person. I had 
a desperate need to use my power, but I also wanted to savor it.

Going home was the only sensible thing I could do. If I didn't, then I 
might be tempted to use the ring if I saw someone. I drove straight 
home, not even daring to stop for fast food. There is no rule that says 
I have to take someone if I see him or her. For example, I have seen 
many men when I wore the Master ring, but my tastes have never leaned 
that way. It's just I knew I wouldn't be able to restrain myself if I 
saw a new woman. 

If Fate brings you a victim, how can you not use them?

edited by Ruthie 
<1st attachment end>

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