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From: adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Mad About You Pt 1 [mf/bond-cons]
Date: 23 Apr 1997 13:27:49 -0400
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The THC Adult Text Archive: MADYOU1.TXT (385 lines)
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Mad About You - 1 [mf/bondage-consensual] - by Frost
WARNING!
The following story contains scenes of graphic sex and bondqage.
Any relationship between these characters and other
characters you may have heard about is, of course, quite
coincidental.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
Jamie bent low over the contract, squinting to catch the fine
print. She made an impatient noise, then took off her glasses,
cleaned them carefully, rubbed her eyes, then put them back on
again. She studied the print, then made a small notation next to
one of the lines.
She sat back in the chair and yawned, then rubbed her eyes
again and glanced at the clock. It was almost eight. Paul was going
to be mad again. They'd hoped to have a romantic evening together,
to make up for some of the time they'd missed.
She made a wry face, then flipped the page and read down the
fine print again. Late hours were a neccesary part of life, this
time of year, especially if you wanted to be the most junior
partner at Baskin Forbes, one of New York's largest advertising
agencies.
She wrapped up the work just before nine, then finally
shrugged on her hip-length suede jacket, slipped into her sneakers,
and headed downstairs to the parking lot. She didn't yet have the
BMW she'd hoped for, but last year had managed to trade in the
eight year old Toyota for a two year old Chrysler, so she was
getting there.
She flipped a lock of soft, blonde hair out of her eyes as she
started the engine, then accelerated smoothly, and turned out onto
the street. At this time of night the traffic was fairly thin, and
twenty-five minutes later she was pulling up in front of her
building...to find no parking spaces, of course.
She cursed at the Nissan in her space, then drove a block up
and stole someobody elses. She stepped out of the car and shivered
a bit in the late January weather. She did up her coat tightly and
slipped on her gloves as she made her way back down the street.
She walked along briskly, and a minute later Jerry, their
doorman, was pulling the door open and smiling at her.
"Hi there, Mrs. Buchman," he smiled.
"Hi, Jerry," she said.
"Nuther late night?"
"Afraid so," she sighed, making her way to the elevators.
"Well, gotta climb that slippery ladder," Jerry said.
"Just so there's plenty of gold at the top," she smiled,
stepping into the elvator as it opened.
He watched her until the door closed, remembering the sight of
her in the summer, wearing a tight spandex workout outfit when he'd
delivered a package to her door. She was slender, but athletic, and
with her bright blue eyes, and beautiful, silky hair was just
adorable.
His feelings were mixed. Half of him wanted to pat her head
and hug her in a kind of paternal way.
The other half wanted to fuck her brains out. She had some
kinda ass, and the thought of her kneeling between his legs, and
him plunging his pecker into that sweet mouth, was enough to get
his rocks off every time he beat his meat.
"Man, would I love to fuck you," he whispered to himself as
the doors closed.
Jamie turned and checked her face in the mirrored wall as she
rode upstairs. She pulled some bangs down over her forehead, hoping
to look waif-like, and defuse some of Paul's inevitable anger.
She tried out various sad smiles on herself until the elevator
stopped, then she sighed and headed down the hall to their
apartment.
She did love Paul, she really did, but...after six years of
marriage...things were...not quite boring, but certainly it had
been a while since sparks flew.
She shrugged and pushed her key into the apartment. She pushed
open the door and peeked inside, then pushed it open all the way
and flipped on the lights. Paul wasn't here.
She hissed worriedly, wondering if he'd gone out to get drunk
or something. She cloed the door, then hung up her coat.
"Paul?" she called.
She walked through the living room to the bedroom, then
checked the bathroom and kitchen. He wasn't here, nor was there any
sign that he'd been here recently. She checked his closet. His
brown suit was missing. That was the suit he'd worn to work.
She pondered that for a moment. Surely if he'd come home he'd
have changed immediately, and even if he'd waited an hour or two
before getting disgusted and leaving, surely he'd not put on the
same suit.
"I should have called," she said.
But she hadn't. At five she'd hoped she'd finish by six, and
so get home only a bit late. At six she thought surely it would
only be till seven. At seven she had thought she'd be done by
eight. and by eight she was too afraid of getting the phone slammed
in her ear to call.
But she'd wondered why he hadn't called her.
She worried now that something might have happened to him,that
he'd been hit by a car or mugged or something.
Then she heard a key in the front door and raced into the
bedroom. She closed the door and stripped, dumping everything into
her closet, then pulled on a green satin nightshirt that set off
her blonde hair so well.
She ran to the door just as Paul opened it, fluffing her hair
so it hung down over her shoulders.
"Oh," he said.
"Oh," she said.
"Uhm, look, honey, I'm really sorry."
"You are?"
"Yeah, I tried to call, but the pay phone wan't working."
"And there's only one payphone in the city?
"Ahhh, I was stuck in traffic. See, I had to go all the way
out to Queens to check on a set
i wanna use for the phone company thing, and it just took longer
than I thought. I lost track of time."
"Hmmph," she said, turning up her nose. "Some romantic
evening."
"Well, aaahh, can't we make it for tomorrow?"
"We have to go out with Sara and Dave tomorow."
"Oh, yeah, uhm, couldn't we cancel?"
"No, we couldn't cancel! It's their anniversery. We're going
to the opera."
"Yuch."
He came into the bedroom and took off his suit jacket then
undid his tie. Jamie moved to the bed and sat on the edge, crossing
her long legs.
"Did you eat something?"
"Yeah, I had a couple of burgers sent in," he said, kicking
off his shoes. He massaged his feet and sighed tiredly.
"Ohh, la, lah," she said as he bent over.
"Don't be such a dirty girl," he said.
"I can't help it. That's just the way I am."
"I married a cheap bimbo."
"And a forgiving one, lucky for you."
"Yes, very forgiving." He stripped to his shorts, then came
over and slid his hands around her head, leaning in to kiss her on
the forehead, then on the lips. Her arms went around him and their
tongues touched briefly as her hands slid down onto his ass.
He sighed and pushed her head away, smling wryly. "Honey,
I am sooooo tired."
"So?"
"I mean, can we...like, wait until tomorow?"
"You mean you're too hired to make love?"
"Well...kind of, yeah."
"I can remember a time you'd crawl through broken glass to get
to me."
"Yeah, well." He smiled,kissed her on the forehead again, then
stepped back. "That was before I knew you."
"Oh you..!" she swung at him but he ducked back with a grin.
Jamie was so tired herself that she couldn't find it in her
heart to blame him. All she wanted to do was veg out in front of
the TV and relax.
"Do you know the last time we made love?" she sighed.
"A couple of days ago."
"No. We fucked a couple of days ago. I'm talking about making
love. You know, when it lasts longer than twenty minutes."
"Jesus, Jamie, can't we argue about this tomorrow," he
groaned, pulling on his lying-around-the-house sweats.
"What? In front of Sara and Dave? Anyway, I'm not complaining.
I mean, I'm not blaming you. It's just that...we've both been so
busy..."
"I know."
"I just wonder if we've become bored with each other or
something. There was a time we couldn't keep our hands off each
other. Now we can sleep in the same bed for days and not touch each
other."
"I am not bored with you," he growled, sliding his arms around
her.
"Well, maybe bored isn't the right term," she sighed.
"Maybe...maybe we just don't...excite each other like we used to."
"We're just tired."
"Maybe," she sighed.
He kissed her and went out into the living room. She followed
slowly. "Thanksgiving," she said.
"What?"
He dropped onto the sofa and reached for the remote as she
slid down beside him.
"Thanksgiving night. That's the last time we made love."
"We made love plenty of times since then."
"Yeah, once a week," she snorted. "Anyway, I'm not talking
about a morning quicky, or a fifteen or twenty minute session
before we go to bed, I'm talking about making love."
"Honey," he groaned. "Neither of us has the time any more to
spend two or three hours groping and necking on the fuckin' couch."
"If Cindy Crawford walked in that door naked right now you'd
find the time and energy."
"Well...yeah, I guess."
"So you're not that attracted to me any more!"
"I am too! It's just that...men are whores, I guess. We like
to sleep around with gorgeous fashion models whenever they throw
themselves at us. Anyway, wouldn't you jump Tom Cruise if he walked
through the room naked?"
"No."
"Liar."
"Well, maybe I would. He's sure got some kind of body."
"And I don't?"
"Not like him."
"Thanks."
"Do you think familarity breeds contempt?"
"I could never have contempt for you? You're too gorgeous," he
grinned, sliding his hand along her leg.
"Yeah, but what about me having contept for you?"
"Oh, very funny. You're a funny lady."
She crawled over and straddled him, sitting on his thighs as
she pushed him back and licked her lips seductively. Then she
reached down and peeled her nightshirt up and off in one smooth
motion, tossing it on the floor behind her.
He reached for her but she gripped his wrists and shoved his
hands back.
"Do you think I'm sexy?" she purred.
He looked straight into the soft, high flesh of her breasts,
e
yeing the bright pink nipples, and smiled.
"Yes, you're very exciting," he said.
She held his hands, rubbing her ass up down on his thighs as
she tightened her knees against his hips.
"Do I turn you on?" she growled.
"Sometimes," he said.
She brushed her nipples against his face, pulling her chest
back as he tried to mouth them.
"Do I now?" she taunted.
"You're sure starting to," he said.
"Like what you see?" she teased, brushing her breasts against
his face. He licked at them and she pulled back. She stuck her
tongue out at him, then pulled up off his lap and stood up. She
looked down at him, saw him staring into her crotch, and grinned as
his hands came up and gripped her buttocks.
His tongue slid along her pussy crack and she laughed, then
jerked away and jumped back onto the floor. She snatched up her
nightshirt and pulled it on over her head.
"Just wondered," she said, grinning at him.
"Get your ass back here," he growled.
"No way. I know how tired you are. I don't want to exhaust
you."
"Get back here."
"Uh uh."
He jumped to his feet and she squealed and ran around behind
the sofa. He chased her, and she circled the sofa a couple of
times. Then he leapt over the thing and caught her, growling as he
lifted her up over his shoulders.
He staggered back to the sofa as she writhed in his arms, then
fell heavily into the plush cushion, grabbing her around the middle
as she tried to crawl away.
"Let me go!" she cried, laughing.
"Not likely," he said, flipping up the bottom of her
nightshirt to reveal her bare behind.
She twisted this way and that, and he got an arm around her
waist and pulled her over his lap, tugging the nightshirt higher.
His right hand slapped down against her ass and she yelped and
squirmed harder.
"Hold still, you brat!"
"Pervert!" she cried.
He gripped her pussy and kneaded the flesh as her legs jerked
and bounced on the sofa. Then she moaned and slowed her motions,
spreading her legs.
"Ah ha, got you where it hurts, didn't I?" he grinned, rubbing
his hand up and down her pussy mound.
"Hmmmmmmm," she moaned.
He slipped his hand out from between her soft thighs and
cracked it down on her ass again. She yelped and cursed wildly.
"You deserve a spanking for being a cocktease," he laughed.
"That'll be the day!" she cried, writhing and wriggling in his
arms as she tried to escape.
She managed to twist around and get across the sofa, then
flopped off onto the floor. He grabbed her again, falling atop her,
and they rolled several times before he came out on top. She
twisted, and tried to crawl away, but he grabbed her again.
He sat back on his heels and hauled her belly up across his
knees, then pulled her wrists together behind her back and pinned
them there with one hand. He flipped up the bottom of her
nightshirt again and spanked her ass several times.
Both of them had been just enjoying themselves, fooling
around, having fun, but something caught both of them in the guts
as his hand slapped across her ass, and both of them realized it.
For Paul, it was a feeling of power that seemed to swell his
lust to a point he hadn't felt in months.
For Jamie, it was a strange feeling of helplesness, something
that appealed to all those adolescent fantasies about authority
figures and rape.
Paul slapped his hand down harder, almost experimentally,
ready to back off and apologise if she got angry. She didn't,
though she cried out, and a red handprint appeared on her ivory
flesh. Again he slapped his hand down, then again, then again,
wondering at his response, feeling his rock-hard prick pushing
against her belly.
Jamie felt her eyes tearing at the biting heat in her rear end
as his hand cracked down again. She cried out in pain, her
breathing harsh and ragged as she tried to understand why her loins
were so hot and moist and heavy, why the blows were setting her
guts churning in spite of the pain.
She was a strong-willed feminist, a well-educated, independant
career woman. How could she let him spank her as though she were
some little girl? How could she let him live out some kind of
adolescent fantasy by hurting her?
And how could it feel so good?
Finally his hand cracked down especially hard and she cried
out in pain, her body thrashing away. She rolled several times,
then leapt to her feet as he jumped up after her. She backed away,
not speaking, her heart pounding.
She found herself backed against the side of the bookcase,
hemmed in by Paul. She pushed her hands out but he gripped her
wrists and lifted them high above her, pinning them together above
her head, pressing them back against the bookcase.
They stared at each other, then his right hand slid up and
down her body, then undid the buttons, starting at the top, working
downwards, until her nightshirt fell apart and bared her soft,
slender body. Her breasts rose and fell on her heaving chest as she
pulled her wrists against his hold.
His hand moved up and down her again, rough, fast, squeezing
her breasts, then diving down between her legs. She gasped and
arched her back as he palmed her pubic mound and squeezed almost
painfully hard.
"Oohhhhh," she gasped. "Oohhh God!"
He forced a finger up inside her, then a second, jamming them
in to the knuckles as she gasped and wriggled against the bookcase.
Her legs twisted and her ass ground agaisnt the wood as he pumped
his fingers inside her. Then he brought his thumb donw on her
clitty, catching it against his fingers, and began to roughly grind
and rub against it.
"Fuck! Oh FUCK!" Oh God!"
"Yeah, yeah! You like that, huh, baby! Come on, baby! Come on
my fingers! Show me what a hot assed slut you are!"
"Ohhh! OOh, Paul! Noo...nooo, Maa...Maaarrk!"
She felt the heat swelling inside her, felt her breasts
aching, her nipples burning like glowing red embers. She slapped
her ass back against the side of the bookcase again and again,
jerking her head back as the air puffed out between her lips.
"Coe, baby! Come on my fingers!"
"Oooohhhh!"
Jamie didn't know what was happening to her. She hadn't felt
this hot in months. Her insides were churning and roiling, and her
head was roaring like an freight train. She felt a sudden blast of
high-intensity pleasure rip through her pussy and bucked her hips
forward violently, then arched her back as she trembled and shook.
An orgasm boiled through her nerves and sinews, and she
shuddered as the power of it tore her mind to pieces. She gurgled
in bliss, hardly able to breath as her chest tightened and her legs
danced and jerked helplessly.
Paul jerked her away from the bookcase, throwing her against
the back of the sofa. The momentum carried her upper body forward
and down over the back of the couch, and she groaned as she stared
at the cushions. She felt his hands on her thighs, ripping them
open, then felt his cock against her pussy.
Paul's hands shook as he rubbed his cock up and down against
her drooling pussy slit. As a liberated woman, it was very seldom
when Jamie would allow herself to be taken like this, to be fucked
from behind. She found it degrading.
Now, however, with the sex-heat fully in contol of her, she
didn't seem able to protest. He slid into her, then gripped her
hips and thrust deeply. He heard her groan, a long, quavering sound
of pleasure, as his cock drove deep into her guts.
He gripped her ass, squeezing and kneading the soft meat, then
raised both hands and slapped them down. She yelped, then groaned
again, as his fingers dug into her ass meat and he began to fuck
her hard and fast. His cock pumped furiously as his hips spanked
her ass cheeks.
He used the full length of his hard, thick pecker as he rodded
it into her belly. He watched his cock sawing back and forth
between her soft, furred cunt lips, watched the dark pink flesh
within her, all moist and glistening as his cock pounded through
it.
"Fuck!" he gasped. "Oh, man!"
He buried his tool inside her, then ground his hips against
her ass and thighs. He ran his hands up and down her ass then
slapped it again as he began to fuck once more. He felt her insides
spasming and shaking and squeezing down on his boner, and felt his
juices ready to blast, ready to blow.
He gripped her thighs and jerked them wider, spreading her
open for him. She groaned again, but he didn't care. He drove his
tool into her furry crack with total abandon, grunting with effort,
groaning with pleasure as his hips pounded against her thighs.
Her glasses fell off, and she hardly noticed. She gurgled and
grunted in bliss and dazed confusion as he drilled her exposed
pussy crack, and spanked her ass with his hips.
Then he came, his juices frothing out of his prick, flooding
her insides. His hot, salty white cock-milk poured down into her
wriggling body as he felt his balls draining and his cock slowly
begin to soften.
"Oohhh, baaby," he groaned.
He reached down and pulled her upright, and her feet stumbled,
then found purchase on the rug. He pulledher tightly against him,
even as his softening cock reamined inside her. His hands kneaded
her breasts as he kissed and licked the sides of her throat.
"Who says you don't excite me?" he sighed.
"Bastard," she sighed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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From adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com Wed Apr 23 13:27:44 1997
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From: adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Mad About You Pt 2 [mf/bond-cons]
Date: 23 Apr 1997 13:27:44 -0400
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The THC Adult Text Archive: MADYOU2.TXT (445 lines)
Please do not allow anyone under 18 to read the contents of this message.
Note: I did not write any of these stories. They are being posted from the
archive as a public service only - any copyrights belong to the authors.
See the footer for important information.
==========================================================================
Mad About You - 2 [mf/consensual bondage]
WARNING!
The following story contains scenes of graphic sex and bondage.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
They were both quiet afterwards, neither quite sure what had
happened. Jamie tried to puzzle out what had turned her on so high,
so hot, so fast. She'd never been one to experiment sexually. In
fact, she was, she admitted, a little repressed.
She had had a few boyfriends before Paul, but things hadn't
really developed very far. She'd done her first blow-job at
eighteen, and done perhaps five or six more of them over the next
three years. She'd lost her virginity at twenty. It hadn't been a
terribly exciting time.
At twenty one, having only four previous sexual experiences,
two with one boyfriend, two with another, she had met Paul. She had
fallen in love with him, and come, eventually, to enjoy sex, but
more as an expression of closeness, of love and tenderness, than
because of any real physical pleasure.
Oh it was pleasant at times, but tails about massive fireworks
that she often read or heard about, she had dismissed as mostly
exaggeration. The most pleasure she ever had was on those rare
occasions when she masturbated. She didn't do it much because she
was either too busy to take the time, or felt it was a kind of a
betrayal to Paul.
So the massive pleasure she had experienced during the rough,
raw, violent sex was a tremendous puzzle. It made her
uncomfortable, wondering if maybe there was something inside her
that was masochistic, that craved abuse.
He had spanked her, for God's sake! And she had gotten off on
it more than almost anything she could remember, without him doing
more than slapping her behind and fingering her crotch.
He had gotten off on it too, which also discomforted her. What
if it turned out he liked hurting women, liked hurting her? What
kind of a man got off on hurting his wife? Weren't they just sub-
human wife beaters?
She had always felt very close to Paul, but now she wondered
if she knew him at all, and what was worse, if she knew herself any
better.
As for Paul, he was wondering something along the same lines.
He had felt an almost frightening pleasure as he smacked his hand
down on Jamie's ass. The sound of her cries were like music to his
ears, and he had had a tremendously hard time restraining himself
from doing worse.
The raw, violent sex was something new to him, something he
hadn't dared with girlfriends, and of course, had never considered
with Jamie. It had been, without question, the most fantastic
sexual experience he could remember. Never had Jamie seemed to
utterly sexual and erotic.
Every time he'd slapped her ass, every rough movement he'd
made, he had anxiously expected her to protest, to demand he halt.
But she hadn't. What did that mean? She had sure seemed to like it.
But maybe she'd been acting. Maybe she was even now disgusted with
him.
He wasn't sure, and didn't dare ask.
Their sex life over the next week was limited to the
occasional kiss and pat on the behind. Jamie was wary of both him
and herself, and Paul was afraid to push things, despite his
growing frustration. Each time he tried to get close to her in bed
she found a reason to ease away, tiredness, headache, or just plain
not in the mood.
On a Thursday night, almost a week afterwards, he didn't wait
for her to get into the bed. She undressed and put on her
nightshirt, then went to put on some kind of greasy stuff, which
made it obvious to him that there would, again, be no sex tonight.
He rolled out of bed...he slept nude, as usual, and came up
behind her, gripping her wrist.
"Put that shit away, will you?" he said, irritated.
"You don't want me to look old and wrinkled when I'm forty, do
you?"
"I don't care what you look like when you're forty," he
growled. He took off her glasses, ignoring her protests, then spun
her around, and gripped the hem of her nightshirt, jerking it up.
"Paul!" she cried in protest.
He jerked the nightshirt up and off, flinging it against the
wall and wrapping his arms around her, drawing her naked body in
against his as he bit down on her neck. His hands dove to her ass
and squeezed it tightly as he ground his loins into her.
"Paul! Stop it! I...I have to be at work early to...tomorrow!"
she gasped, pushing him back.
He ignored her, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed. He
got into the bed, easing her down below him as he growled and
gnawed and chewed on the nape of her neck. His hands came out from
under her ass, sliding through her golden blonde hair and over her
small breasts as he let his weight down on her.
"Paul! I...I don't...I..."
He silenced her words with his mouth, crushing her lips. His
tongue darted in between them, caressing her teeth and lips as he
rubbed himself against her. His cock hardened rapidly as it was
ground between their loins, and he reached down for it, placing the
hard little helmet against her gash.
Jamie decided to give in. It would only take a few minutes and
then she could put him off for another few days while she pondered
her behaviour, and his, last week. There was no real violence in
what he was doing, though he was certainly being more insistent
than normal.
And more...more rough...more...aggressive. His hands were
racing over her body, mauling and kneading her breasts as his mouth
pressed down demandingly. He pinched and pulled at her nipples,
making her yelp, then drove himself slowly, but firmly down into
her tight pussy.
It was not a brutal thrust, yet it was also not the slow, in
out, gradual penetration she was used to. She felt his organ
sliding firmly, determinedly into her in one single deep drive, and
groaned a bit in surprise, and at the strain and sudden bloating of
her surprised body.
He tore his lips free of hers, then engulfed her nipple and a
chunk of breast meat, biting, chewing, sucking fiercely. She
gasped, but he was gone, his lips on her throat, then on her mouth
again, then on her other breast, then her shoulder, darting here
and there, biting and sucking and licking and slurping excitedly.
His hands kneaded and squeezed her breasts nearly
continuously, crushing and rolling the soft, tender, orbs as he
ground himself into her. His body rolled from side to side, and
ground back and forth over her, even though he wasn't pumping, even
though his cock was buried to the hilt inside her.
She felt it moving inside her, the pressure shifting from side
to side in her belly, twisting around as he moved. She felt his
weight on her thighs and belly and ran her hands across his
shoulders and ribs as she felt herself heating up.
She spread her legs slightly, instinctively, then wondered why
she had. She drew her knees up and apart, trying to kiss him back,
but finding his head still moving rapidly, his mouth still shifting
from throat to mouth to breasts.
She gripped his head and pulled his lips onto hers, and they
kissed long, and hard, and deep and with growing passion on her
part. He started to hump down against her, and she felt his cock
thumping into the back wall of her pussy as it moved. She gasped in
pleasure, spreading her knees wider, even though the tendons in her
thighs were already aching from the strain.
She felt her heart pounding faster, felt the blood racing
inside her as their tongues duelled, first in his mouth, then in
hers. She ran her hands down his body and onto his ass, and dug her
fingers into the flesh as he ground and humped into her.
He pulled himself free then, pushing himself up on his arms,
taking his weight off her. He began to hump into her with a hard,
steady, driving rhythm. His cock pumped inside her, thrusting in
again and again as she lay below him. His hips struck her thighs in
a hard, steady tattoo as his cock plunged again and again into the
depths of her tight, moist belly.
Then he shoved himself back, his hands gripped her legs behind
the knees and he let his weight come down on them as he shoved them
back against her chest. Jamie gasped as she stared up at him, as
her knees were crushed back into her breasts and her ass raised
upwards off the bed.
He began to fuck harder and faster, using long, deep strokes
as he pounded his cock down into her.
Never before had they used this position, for she had
considered it far too demeaning. She had the words of protest on
her lips, but never got them through. She felt her body thrum with
sexual energy as his thick organ drove into it, and felt every hard
thump of his hips against her buttocks driving the pleasure onward.
This is demeaning, her mind cried. How can you let him use you
like this? How can you be such a slut? She was embarrassed a little
at how utterly exposed she was to him, at how her ass was raised
and her crotch gaped.
But too much of her mind was reeling from the pleasure as his
cock pounded down into her. She heard herself grunting softly with
each hard thrust, and knew, without thinking, without any conscious
though, that she loved the hard pounding against her ass, that she
felt a blast of pleasure each time his hips hammered her ass cheeks
and drove them down.
She felt wanton, felt like a raw, carnal animal as he rutted
down into her. She was always careful, so very careful of her
dignity at work, of the clothes she wore an the way she moved, she
could only imagine what her co-workers would think if they saw her
like this.
And the thought of that, rather than crushing her, made her
body burn like fire. She gasped and mewled in response as he
shifted his weight on her legs, his hands travelling down them,
down to her calfs, then ankles. he threw his weight on them,
unbending her long legs and straightening them back along her
torso.
She felt a blast of amazement as he put his legs on her
ankles, shoving them up over her shoulders. Her back ached, and the
tendons in her thighs were hot and sore, but she didn't care about
that. It was the position she was in, the sight of her crotch only
inches from her chin, of her ass cheeks raised high, and his cock
thrusting down into her that took all her attention.
She stared in utter fascination at the sight of his cock
driving into her again and again, and then looked up at him and saw
the fire in his eyes and, and gasped again. She knew how excited he
was, and knew she was the cause of it, and that added to the
roaring inferno that was raging through her own body.
And then he managed to shove her feet back further, and she
could feel them, could feel her bare feet as he pressed them back
against her ears, and she felt like the sluttiest, hottest whore in
the worlds as he pounded his cock down into her, and her ass
bounced wildly up and down under the blows.
And she came, came like with a colossal, blinding firestorm of
sexual pleasure. Her senses were flooded with ecstasy, and her mind
bobbed and twisted and turned over and over as the raging tide
passed through and over it.
She shuddered and trembled, mindlessly gurgling and moaning as
fire rippled up and down her spine. The pleasure was a huge,
towering thing that swamped her senses and shook her body to the
core of her being. She felt light-headed, felt her chest tighten,
her vision blurring.
Then the come eased, and she felt a glorious, languorous
sexual bliss gripping her. She moaned and let her eyes close, her
body hot, her muscles weary, her heart still pounding.
And yet Paul was not finished. He still held her ankles
pressed back against the sides of her head, and his cock continued
to thrust down into her as his hips bounced her ass up and down.
She was aware of this, and accepted it in a warm, soft,
happiness, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm.
Yet still he plunged his tool down into her, and she felt the
stabbing pinpricks of heat breaking through her all-encompassing
bliss. She whined unhappily as the delightful comfort of her body
was forced away, and she was brought back fully into the muscular
aches and pains, the discomfort of her position, and the bruising
impact of his hips against her soft, upturned buttocks.
Could she complain? Could she tell him to hurry and finish?
No. She couldn't. How could she? Surely he wouldn't be much longer.
Yet he continued to drive his tool down into her, fucking, if
anything, harder.
Then, much to her surprise she felt a tingling in her crotch,
down deep in her lower belly, down where his cockhead was punching
repeatedly into her cervix. It grew and spread, sliding up her
pussy to the mouth, setting her clitty tingling, then seeping
through her belly and up to her chest.
She felt her breasts ache with wonderful pleasure under the
repeated grinding of her legs, and felt her heart begin to race
again. She was shocked, stunned, for to her this was impossible. An
orgasm was, after all, often known as a climax for the very good
reason that it was the peak, and the end of things.
Yet her body was rapidly being swept back into the sexual
whirlwind she had just emerged from. That had never happened
before, nor did she think it was possible.
She lay there in stunned amazement, her aching body throbbing
with sexual heat as Paul drove his cock into her depths with near
savage fury, thrusting down with all his weight, his hips cracking
loudly into her ass cheeks. It was crude, violent, raw....fucking.
Fucking. She was being fucked. Now she understood the true
meaning of the word. Making love certainly was no description for
this. This was not having sex, or screwing. This was fucking. She
was being fucked...hard!
She heard herself say the word, whispering it.
"fuck," she breathed.
"Fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck..." she whispered, chanting it
almost as a mantra, not even knowing she spoke aloud, each word a
gasp of pleasure timed to his brutal thrusts.
"Fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck...fuck..." she gasped. "Ooohh
FuuuuuuuUUUUCCCCKKKKK! OOOhoH! OUUNNNGHH!
UUUUOOOOOHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAGGHHH!"
A second orgasm swept over her, ripping her thinking to
shreds. Heat flared up along her nervous system, blasting along her
body like raw, molten lava ripped from cracks in the earth. She
screamed...for the first time in her life she screamed in pleasure,
helpless, massive, shocking pleasure that swept her out of the
world and into its own embrace.
Nothing existed, nothing mattered, nothing but the pleasure.
Caught in a howling, roaring hurricane of ecstasy she bounced and
jerked like a spastic doll, blinded, deafened, she neither knew nor
cared what was going on, what was happening to her. She turned and
twisted and rolled in a vast pool of boiling water, her body
steaming as it consumed her. Yet the water was inside as well as
out. She held her mouth wide, felt the bubbling, churning ecstasy
in her lungs and belly and groin, and threw senses wide to it.
She woke to Paul slapping her face lightly. He had some water
and his hand was wet. She blinked her eyes, slowly trying to bring
her sight into focus.
"Pa....Paaulll," she whispered.
"Thank God! Are you all right?"
"I...I...oohhhhhh."
"You passed out."
"I...I did?"
"Fainted," he said, his worry disappearing now, slowly being
replaced by a certain arrogant pride.
"Oh my Gooooood," she moaned, bringing her hand up to her
face.
"I was...uhm, kind of worried."
"I..." She turned her head, then raised herself up on her
elbows. Paul helped her sit up, and put another pillow behind her.
"Jesus," she sighed, shaking her head. "Oh man!"
"I uh, guess you liked it, huh?" he said with a grin.
"I never felt anything like that in my life!" she breathed,
staring at him in wonder.
"Well..." He shrugged nonchalant, feeling even more proud and
cocksure.
Paul was not the kind of guy who'd ever bragged much about his
sexual conquests, and he certainly spoke seldom, if ever about his
sex life with Jamie. But the very notion of her coming so hard she
fainted made his head swell, and he longed desperately to call up
his friends and tell them how he'd fucked her unconscious.
There was a certain age-old male delight in possessing a
woman's body, a delight he'd seldom felt. Jamie was, after all,
hardly his plaything, his possession. She was as smart, as strong-
willed, and as successful as he was. She decided when they'd have
sex, and mostly how, and she shared in all other decisions.
On the other hand, he had just fucked her unconscious! Though
he didn't think it consciously, the realization was there that if
he could fuck her unconscious he was, undisputable, the one in
charge. he was THE MAN. THE BOSS.
"Christ, what did you do to me?" she groaned. "My back aches.
Ohhhh, my thighs."
She gripped her inner thighs and massaged the strained tendons
and muscles. She felt bruised there, too.
"I uh, I guess you made me so excited I got carried away," he
said glibly.
"Fuck," she sighed. "I bet I have bruises tomorrow."
She was so stunned at what had happened that she was trying to
shift the discussion away from it, away from her fainting from
pleasure, and on to his inconsiderate and rough sex.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Forget it," she said, unable to look at him. "Let's get
some sleep."
"You uh, you liked it, huh?" he grinned.
"Paul...yes. I...liked it. Can we get some sleep. I'm
absolutely exhausted."
He wasn't annoyed. He knew very well what she was doing, why
she was shifting the discussion and blaming him. There was always
a very subtle struggle for power within a marriage like theirs, and
he had just won a mighty battle.
He kissed her, then grinned and turned away, turning off the
light. He decided, though, to get a shot in before sleep.
"Don't forget to tell your girlfriends about that," he said in
the darkness.
Shit, she sighed to herself.
What just happened, she asked herself. What was that? More
importantly, how can I get more of it?
No, no, no! How can I regain control of my body. That's the
question. How can I experience pleasure without giving up my pride
and dignity. Jesus! I let him pin my fucking feet back behind my
ears!
Do I really care? It is Paul, after all. I don't have anything
to hide from him. I love him and he loves me. If rougher, harder
sex feels so damned good why should I care about my bloody dignity?
It was a long time before she fell asleep.
The next day there was work, and lots of it, and little time
to wonder at what had happened, or care about her motivations. She
was able to get home not much after seven thirty, and tried, with
only a little success, to put it out of her mind as she and Paul
ate dinner.
After dinner, both of them in their sweats, they sat on the
couch and watched TV, and talked a little, about work, about
friends. Not...NOT...about sex.
Around eight he kind of pulled her over towards him, so they
were hip to hip, and kissed her affectionately. She tensed up
worriedly, her mind churning. Then he lifted her legs up and over
his lap as his arm went around her.
"It's kind of early, isn't it?" she gulped, smiling
hesitantly.
"Is it?"
"It's..." she shook her hand out and looked at her watch.
"just past eight."
"We have to wait until bedtime?"
"Well..not...it's just that..."
His lips slid onto hers and they kissed softly, then harder.
His tongue slid into her mouth, and his right hand moved between
her legs, rubbing up and down over her pussy.
She wanted to push him away, to shove him hard and run into
the bathroom and lock the door. But she didn't. The memory of the
pleasure, the luscious, exquisite pleasure, was addicting, and she
wanted it more than she feared for her dignity and pride.
A minute later he shifted her ass into his lap, then put his
arms under her and stood up, lifting her in the air.
"Pauuulll!" she gasped.
"Hey, you got no say in anything, woman," he growled.
"Woman?" she stared.
"I'm the man. What I say goes."
"Oh, really?"
He carried her into the bedroom and threw her on the bed, then
gripped her sweatpants and pulled them down her legs, flinging them
off the end of the bed. She stared up at him in confusion,
wondering what, if anything, she should do to reassert her
authority over their sex life.
He knelt there between her legs, growling.
He lifted the top of her sweats up, pulling her into a sitting
position, then yanking them off and shoving her back down on her
back naked.
She laughed, as if in amusement, though her heart raced
anxiously.
His hands closed on her wrists and he pulled them up above her
head, spreading them apart and putting his weight on them. She felt
a sudden throbbing need in her loins, along with a desperation to
say something, to remind him that she was his equal, that she was
a strong-willed, independent...mature...
Then her body decided for her. This was something new and out
of the ordinary, and if it resulted in the kind of pleasure she'd
felt last night, and last week, then the hell with equality. Their
sex life had gotten boring, and she wasn't about to protest if some
kind of macho Tarzan act would liven things up to this extent.
He straddled her body, his knees pressing against the sides of
her ribs, then let go of her left wrist and leaned forward, to the
right. She felt something against her wrist and turned her head up.
She saw, to her considerable shock that he was tying one of his old
ties around her wrist.
"Paul!" she gasped in surprise.
He ignored her, and her next words were drowned by a flood of
heat that seemed to make her body tremble with lust. He was going
to tie her up, tie her to the bedposts. That was so kinky! So hot
and sexy and...and carnal... and...
She felt her heart beating faster. She stared upwards at him,
feeling the tie tighten around her wrist, then saw and felt the
length of fabric tugging on her wrist as he slid it around the post
and pulled tightly. He tied it off there, then leaned over to the
left.
Again he produced a tie, wrapping it around her wrist. She
closed her eyes and shuddered, her mind spinning with wonder at
what he was doing, and at her reaction to it. How could she allow
this? How could she not?
She felt the pull on her wrist as he cinched the thing
tighter, then he backed off, easing his weight back. He slid his
ass back onto her belly and let some of his weight come down on
her. She pulled repeatedly at the ties, excited by the lack of
give, by the tightness of the fabric against her skin.
His hands moved up and down her upper body, rubbing and
squeezing her breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples, then
sliding his hands up alongside her head. He ran his hands roughly
through her hair, then gripped it and jerked her head back a little
roughly.
She gasped in pain as he leaned in and bit on her exposed
throat.
"Oh!" she gasped. "M...Paul!"
He jerked her head forward again, crushing his lips down on
hers, stabbing his tongue into her mouth as he growled. He backed
off, getting off her, then stood next to the bed. She saw the bulge
in his pants and the heat in his eyes, and knew he was as excited
by this as she was.
He stripped off his top and pants, then, his cock sticking up
hard and erect, moved to the foot of the bed. He leaned over and
grabbed her right foot, then jerked it towards the lower corner
post of the bed.
Jamie felt her heat rising higher still as she saw another tie
in his hands.
"Oh, Jesus Christ!" she gasped, letting her head fall back.
Her chest rose and fell as the excitement rippled through her.
They'd never done anything like this before, never
been...kinky...if that was the word. Last night must have affected
him, as well as her. Maybe he had felt more pleasure as well. Maybe
he had decided that this was the way she needed it, wanted it, that
she wanted him in complete control, wanted to be...fucked.
He was tying her spreadeagled to the bed! The very words, the
very image of herself in her mind made her pussy drool with lust
and desire.
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From adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com Wed Apr 23 13:27:54 1997
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From: adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Mad About You Pt 3 [mf/bond-cons]
Date: 23 Apr 1997 13:27:54 -0400
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The THC Adult Text Archive: MADYOU3.TXT (437 lines)
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==========================================================================
Mad About You - 3 [mf/consensual bondage]
WARNING!
The following story contains scenes of graphic sex and bondage.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
He yanked her ankle downwards as he cinched the tie around the
bedpost, then did the same with her other leg. She was splayed out
helplessly, her legs wide, wide apart, and her mind was gripped
with a desperate lust as she pulled and strained against the ties.
She arched her back, panting and straining, moaning as she
felt the tightness and firmness of the ties binding her.
"Jesus," she panted. "Oh God!"
Paul smiled, then climbed into bed, kneeling between her legs.
He slid his hands up and down her straining thighs, then up over
her belly, moving them in a slow, circular motion. He slid them up
her ribs and over her breasts, caressing them softly, running his
fingers and palms over the firm ivory surface.
Jamie continued to strain and pull at the ties, her breathing
rough and ragged already. He eased his right hand back down her
body and in between her legs, then slowly wriggled a finger into
her, letting it slide through the tight, moistness of her pussy
lips and down into the hotter, sucking tunnel behind.
He felt her pussy squeezing and pulling at his finger as he
twisted it around, and saw her arch her back and shove her pussy up
at him repeatedly. He eased his finger back, then thrust a second
into her, making her gasp and groan.
He brought his thumb down on her clitoris, squeezing and
rolling it against his fingers.
He was somewhat surprised at her response to date, but as he
ground her clitty between his fingers and thumb he saw, to his
amazement, her body begin to hump and shake and grind in desperate
lust. He heard her gasps, and deeply passionate moans and whimpers,
and saw her face drawn back in a wondrous mask of pleasure.
She came, humping frenziedly, gasping and crying out her
pleasure as she ground herself against his fingers.
Jamie's mind seemed to explode as the pleasure foamed through
her veins. The veins stood out on her throat as she opened her
mouth wide in a scream of pleasure. Her chest was locked as
muscular spasms ripped through her, so no sound emerged but a long,
low gurgle as she arched her back again and again.
Paul was fascinated as he watched her violent contortions,
fascinated...and deeply aroused. In the years since they had been
married he had never actually seen her come, not like this, not
sitting back on his heels and watching.
As she came he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her
pussy tunnel, continued to grind them against her clitty and rub
his thumb against it. He also closed his fist against her tit meat,
crushing and squeezing and
mashing it she whipped her head from
side to side and cried out in pleasure.
He grinned in smug pleasure as she slowly went limp before
him. She twitched and spasmed and moaned, eyes closed, chest
heaving.
He pulled his fingers from her and ran both hands over her
breasts, then eased his own naked body down over her. He chewed on
the nape of her neck as he caressed her flesh, then reached above
her and pulled a black silk scarf from under the pillow.
He folded the scarf, then placed it over her eyes.
"Pa...aul?" she moaned.
He lifted her head and tied the scarf behind her head, then
adjusted the front to be sure she could see nothing.
"Pauuuulll? What...what are you doooing?"
"Shhh."
He chewed on her lower lip then eased back between her legs,
kneeling there. He ran his finger into her quim and scooped out her
moist, cunt honey, then pressed his finger to her lips and pushed
it inside. She licked at it, then sucked weakly.
He had to restrain himself at the sight, had to fight down the
desperate desire to jump on her and fuck her madly. He knew that if
he did that he would spew within seconds.
"You belong to me," he whispered, running his hands over her
body again. "Don't you. Don't you, baby."
"Yessss," she panted.
He mashed her breasts, then leaned forward and sucked her
right nipple into his mouth, chewing and sucking it, then sitting
back and sliding his hands between her legs once more. he shifted
his legs back, then bent forward to get a close look at her
steaming snatch.
He slid two fingers of his right hand into her pussy, then
added two fingers of his left hand. She moaned softly as he slowly
peeled her cunt open, prying the pussy lips wide apart and
revealing the glistening pink flesh inside.
He tongued the little hole, then lapped along the insides of
the lips, making his way up to her clitty. He kissed it, then
sucked on it. He lapped like a cat, then rubbed his tongue as fast
as he could. He blew a stream of air across the sparkling little
fuck button, then stuffed his tongue down her fuck hole and
wriggled it around.
Her hips began to grind up against him as he worked on her,
moving with more and more energy. She began to whine and moan, and
arch her back. She began to curse passionately, and whimper in
pleasure.
He stopped then, sitting back on his heels to watch her. He
licked his lips, then wiped his mouth and got out of the bed.
"Paul!?"
He went to the closet and took out the camcorder on its
tripod. He pulled it over beside the bed and set it up, focused on
her, then plugged it in and turned it on. He went back to the
closet and got the other things he'd placed there earlier, bringing
them back to the bed.
He climbed between her legs once again and knelt there,
setting down his things beside him, then picked up a long feather.
"Paaull? What are you doooing?"
He smiled at her eagerness.
"Something wrong?"
"Wh...why did you stooop?"
"Stop doing what?"
"Paaauuull!"
"Tell me what I was doing?"
"I...don't tease meeee!"
"Tell me what you want, Jamie?"
"Paauulllll!"
"Tell me. Say it!"
"Pleease," she whined.
"Tell me."
"Lick meeee?"
"What else?"
"Eat me! Suck me and eat me! Pauuull!"
She strained against the ties and groaned imploringly.
"What kind of a woman would beg someone to eat her?" he
sneered. "Only a real slut would do that."
He slid the tip of the feather up and down her right inner
thigh, and she twitched, gasping in surprise.
"Are you a slut, Jamie?" he breathed, sliding the feather up
and down her other thigh. "Are you a whore?"
"Noooo."
He eased the feather in a slow, circular motion around her
pussy mound, then upwards across her belly and in between her
straining breasts. He circled her tits, noting the sheen of
perspiration on her body now, then moved the feather along the side
of her throat.
"Paaauulll! Stop iiiiit!"
He ignored her, sliding the feather down around her breasts
again, then stroking her right nipple. She arched her back, trying
to shove her tits harder against the teasing, taunting feather, but
he pulled it higher.
He stroked her other nipple, back and forth, then in slow
circles. She whined and complained, then cursed him, but he didn't
stop.
Instead he peeled her cunt lips open again, then flicked the
feather across her clitty, sawing it rapidly back and forth as she
humped upwards.
"Fuck meeeee!" she groaned.
"What was that? You want something, Jamie?"
"Pleeeeease?" she whined.
"Say it again."
"Fuck meee!"
"What's the magic word?"
"Please," she panted. "Please fuck me, Paauuull."
"Begging for it?" he smiled.
"If you want it, beg," he whispered.
"Please fuck me," she begged.
"You must be a real slut to be begging for it," he said. "Are
you a slut, Katherine?"
"N...nooo,"
"Then I'm not gonna fuck you."
"All right! I'm a slut! Pleeease!"
"Say it."
"I'm a sluuut! Please fuck meee!"
"You want me to stick my COCK in my, slut? Is that what you
want? You want me to ram my prick up your slutty pussy?"
"Yeeeeess! Oh, God!"
"Say it."
"P...Paaaauuuullllll! Pleeeasse!"
He twirled the feather across her clitty, then over her
nipples, then her face, then he put it down and picked up a candle
and lighter. He flicked the lighter and lit the candle, then gave
it a few seconds to burn before holding it over her right breast.
He leaned over her and slowly turned it sideways, letting the
hot wax fall onto her nipple.
She gasped, and arched her back, then shook her body.
"Paul! Owww! What are you doing!? Oooww!"
He turned the candle further over, letting the hot wax dribble
over her nipple and areola, then shifted to her other breast. She
yelped and moaned and pulled against the ties as he dripped more
hot wax onto her.
He moved between her legs and pried her pussy open, exposing
her clitty, then dripped hot wax onto that. She yelled and cursed
and humped and jerked wildly, until he finally stopped.
"Such a fun little toy to play with," he grinned.
"Mmaaaarrrkk," she groaned.
"Something wrong...slut?"
"Fuck meee!?"
"You'll have to beg harder...slut."
She groaned and pulled at the ties.
Jamie had never experienced anything like this in her life.
She hadn't been involved with previous boyfriends for very long,
and never before had she and Paul practised sexual games of any
kind. She loved the bondage, the vulnerability and helplessness
that filled her.
She had expected him to simply make love...no, to fuck her
once she was tied, yet instead he had, to her shock, masturbated
her.
She shuddered, even thinking the word. He had masturbated her!
And she had come with a terrible power, shaking like an epileptic
in a fit, and then he had blindfolded her, licked and sucked her
almost to the point of another orgasm, and was now...now...toying
with her, taunting and teasing her in a way she found both
confusing and exciting.
Her body was gripped by a monstrous lust, one that had begun
as he'd eaten her, and then subsided, only to grow hotter, and more
powerful as she felt his fingers and lips, and then what was
obviously some kind of feather stroking her flesh.
When she'd felt the sharp heat and stinging pain in her
nipples she'd been shocked, at first, but then as it continued, and
as she smelled the scent of what was obviously a candle, she
realized what he was doing.
She almost came, just by squeezing her cunt muscles so
furiously and rapidly. The idea that he was dripping hot wax onto
her nipples as she lay bound and blindfolded was perhaps the most
erotic she had ever experienced.
She had never felt so alive, sexually.
She felt his tongue against her pussy again, felt his fingers
inside her. The blindfold seemed to elevate her other senses, and
her pussy felt incredibly tender as his tongue moved over it.
The sexual heat rolled through her, and she began to hump
against him, whimpering and groaning as her body shook with
pleasure. His fingers pumped inside her as his tongue twirled
across her clitty, and she felt a towering wave of pleasure
building up over her, ready to crash down and swamp her.
Then he halted. She quivered with anticipation, then anxiety,
then moaned and strained at the ties again.,
"Paaulll!"
"Shhh."
"Fuck me! Pleeeeease!"
"You want my cock...slut?"
"YEeess!"
"Say it."
"I want your cock!"
"You want me to shove it up your slutty cunt?"
"Yesssss," she sobbed. "Pleeeeeasse!"
"Tell me what a whore you are, and I'll fuck you."
"Paaulllll!"
"Do it. Tell me how you want me to ram my prick up your gash.
Tell me how you want me to fuck your slutty cunt hole. Tell me what
a filthy nympho whore you are, Jamie Buchman! Tell the world what
a hungry little cunt little Jamie Buchman has become!"
"Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!" she panted.
"Tramp."
"Fuck meeee! Fuck meee, Paaullll!"
"Beg for it. Beg for it up your hole, slut!"
"Fuck my hooole!" she gasped, the words blasting through her
mind like fire. "I'm a slut! I'm a fucking cheap whore! I need your
cock up my slutty cunt! Fuck me! Fuck my dirty whore cunt hole!
Pleeeeasse!"
He crawled up her body and straddled her, then leaned forward
and lowered his cockhead against her mouth. He rubbed it back and
forth across her lips and she opened her mouth and licked at it.
"Suck it, baby. Make it nice and wet like your pussy, so it
can slide right in there."
She suckled on his cockhead like a baby on a nipple, moaning
and slurping as she tongued it. He let his cock slide deeper into
her mouth, letting her slurp and gurgle on it, then pulled free and
got between her legs.
He rubbed his cock up and down against her slit, then shoved
the cockhead through her lips, drove it in an inch or two, then
dove on top of her, thrusting it deep inside with one, hard motion,
burying it up her snatch as his body crushed down on top of her.
He grabbed her head and mashed his lips down on hers,
silencing a scream of shock, then rutted with all his strength,
deliberately ripping his cock up and down inside her as fast as he
could, ramming it up her snatch, tearing it free, then stabbing it
in again, grinding and pounding his hips against her splayed thighs
as he sucked and slurped wetly against her mouth.
His hips were a triphammer as he skewered her burning pussy
with violent, furious passion. His mouth was voracious, sucking and
chewing and biting and licking on her mouth and throat and cheeks
as she thrashed and writhed beneath him.
The first hard thrust had driven Jamie over the edge into a
massive, shuddering orgasm, and as she felt his body grinding and
humping and crashing violently against her she could only thrash
her head and cry out in ecstasy, the sexual electricity tearing
through her body in uncontrollable blasts of crackling power.
Paul came inside her, and felt wad after wad of steaming jism
blasting up her snatch. He groaned and bit down on her shoulder,
gnawing at her flesh as the climax burst over him.
He lay there atop her panting for breath, then, recovering
some energy, slowly pulled back, slipping his softening cock from
her tight sheath and sitting back between her legs.
He climbed off and went to the camcorder, panning it slowly up
and down her body, zooming forward to catch the beads of sweat on
her forehead, then running down her body to her tight, moist
snatch. He pulled back, then refocused it and got back between her
legs.
He picked up the vibrator he'd gotten from the closet, the one
he'd bought just that day, and turned it on. He was virtually
certain she'd never seen or felt one before, and hoped it had the
effect he'd heard.
He rolled it around her right breast, circling her nipple.
"Paaulll? Wh...what is that?"
"It's something made for sluts. A nice little toy that no true
slut should be without."
"Paaulllll," she whined.
"Slut," he grinned.
He buzzed the vibrator over her nipples, then rolled it down
her belly and in between her legs. He forced it through her soft,
succulent cunt lips and drove it deep into her snatch.
"]i," she groaned.
"That's how a real slut reacts," he said. "Tell me what a slut
you are, Jamie."
"Ooohhh. I...I'm a slluuuut," she groaned.
He pumped the vibrator in and out of her, then pulled it free
and pressed three fingers against her hole, driving them in
instead. He fucked his fingers in and out of her as he pressed the
nose of the vibrator against her clitty and began to grind it down
against the sparkling little bud.
Almost at once she began humping up against him, panting and
groaning and yelping in pleasure. Her head jerked from side to side
and she arched her back as she whimpered and moaned in pleasure.
He pulled it free then and turned it off, dipping his hand
into the bowl he'd had beside him, the one he'd gotten from the
closet earlier, and pulled out a round ice cube. He pressed it
against her cunt, then popped it inside, using his fingers to drive
it deep into her fuck tunnel.
"Ahhh! Oohh! Paulll! OOohhh! Ahhhh!"
Her ass bounced and jerked as she writhed and humped and
strained against the ties, trying to break free.
"Stop it! Take it out! Take it out!"
Instead he picked up another cube and pushed that against her
snatch, popping that down her pussy too. He slid a third, then a
fourth, then a fifth cube up her snatch as she wriggled and
thrashed and cursed him wildly. He had a full bowl of cubes, and he
continued forcing them down her pussy, using his fingers and thumbs
to force the cubes down to the very bottom of her fuck hole.
He kept pressing them in, ignoring her whines and curses and
groans, until her cunt was absolutely packed with them, until her
cunt lips were unable to close because of the mass of hard icy
cubes.
He picked up another cube, then, unable to get it into her
pussy, he slid it down to her asshole and popped it in there. This
produced another howl of outrage, and another violent thrashing and
shaking.
He stuck his fingers between her pussy lips and gripped one of
the cubes there, then tugged on it. It had melted against the other
cubes, and didn't move. He pulled the cubes harder and slowly
pulled them backwards.
Jamie was shaking and trembling now from the cold, and groaned
long and low as he slowly eased the entire mass of cubes back up
her pussy. He pulled it free and examined it, seeing how the cubes
had all melted together inside Jamie's hole, forming a kind of
thick icy dildo.
He slid his fingers into her pussy, feeling how cold it was in
there as he pumped them in and out.
"Guess that cooled off your hot pussy, eh, baby?" he grinned.
"Baasstaard," she groaned.
He pushed the ice back against her cunt, shoving it deep
inside and pumping it back and forth.
"Ooohh! Take it oooouuut!"
He pulled it out, then pressed it against her asshole,
prodding the little hole and pressing the ice forward.
"NOo! Paaull!"
He shoved the ice dildo into her asshole inch by inch as she
screamed and cursed and shook her ass in an effort to stop him.
He fucked her asshole with the dildo for a minute as he rubbed
her pussy, then he picked up the vibrator and turned it on, then
shoved it back into her snatch. He pulled the ice out of her
asshole and put it back in the bowl, then got up and went
downstairs for a beer.
Jamie lay there, panting and groaning for a few minutes. The
cold and numbness began to fade from her guts as her breathing
began to ease. She was more than a little amazed at herself...and
at Paul.
What in the hell was going on? How long had she lain here? How
long was he going to keep this up? What else would he do to her now
that she was helpless to resist?
She had had not one, but two orgasms...again...and was just
about to...would have had a third orgasm if
that...that...filthy...thinking rotten bastard hadn't pulled
the...whatever it was, the buzzing thing, away from her and shoved
ice into her pussy.
She'd never felt so cold. Her insides had nearly frozen over,
and she'd trembled uncontrollably for long minutes. Now all she
felt was a kind of quivering, buzzing...That was the thing,
the...It had to be a vibrator. She'd heard of them but had never
felt one before. It was an amazing sensation. It was like something
was alive inside her.
"Paaull?"
There was no answer, but she didn't know if that was because
he'd left the room, or because he was teasing her, the bastard. She
felt the buzzing vibrations moving up and down her spine, and felt
the hardness of the plastic sex toy inside her belly.
If her friends could see her now! Friends? Hell! What if her
parents, her God-fearing, bible-thumping Irish Catholic mother and
father, found out what a...a...a slut she was? Jamie
Buchman...slut!
The very words made her quiver. Every time she'd done anything
wrong the lecture would start with...Jamie Buchman...
She'd been relived when she'd married, and gladly taken his
last name.
She imagined her colleagues at work walking in on her like
this, imagined them seeing her all srpeadeagled, her hair matted
against her face, a vibrator up her pussy.
I'm such a slut!
She pulled at the ties, straining against them as she felt her
body quivering and shaking in tune with the vibrator. She felt a
moist heat within her lower belly, felt it grow, grow so fast it
astonished her. She moaned and writhed in the helpless fires of a
sexual yearning that the ice had only delayed, not quenched.
She felt pressure on the bed, and knew he was back. She
clutched at the vibrator with her pussy muscles, frantically trying
to work herself higher before he could pull her back again. She
whimpered and groaned and bounced her ass on the bed as the
tingling and trembling grew more powerful, as the churning in her
guts ate its way up through her chest.
She felt the tension ease on her ankles, then on her wrists.
The ties were still around them but...it was as if they...
She felt his hands under her, rolling her over onto her belly.
She moved her arms and legs, and found that she could. She reached
down to her crotch and gripped the vibrator, crying out in pleasure
as she humped against it and jerked it back and forth inside her.
Then he grabbed her wrists and yanked them up and apart,
slapping her hands down on the mattress. He saw on her back as he
tied the ties to the posts again, cinching them tightly. She moaned
and humped against the vibrator, hoping desperately the orgasm
would come quickly.
He jerked her legs apart and tied them down, then got between
her legs again. She felt his hand at her pussy, felt him pull the
vibrator out.
"Noooooooooo!" she sobbed. "Nooo! Let me come!"
"You wanna come, slut?"
"Pleease! Mmaaaaarrkkk!"
He scooped a wad of lubrication from a jar and rubbed it over
his cock, then shoved his finger into her asshole, wriggling it
inside and pumping it in and out.
"Paaaull!"
He pressed his cock against her asshole, then shoved the
vibrator back up her pussy. She groaned in bliss, humping against
it, almost ignoring the cock he was shoving up her ass.
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From adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com Wed Apr 23 13:27:45 1997
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From: adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Mad About You Pt 4 [mf/bond-cons]
Date: 23 Apr 1997 13:27:45 -0400
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The THC Adult Text Archive: MADYOU4.TXT (470 lines)
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==========================================================================
Mad About You - 4 [mf/consensual bondage]
WARNING!
The following story contains scenes of graphic sex and bondage.
vvvvvvvvvvvv
She groaned in pleasure as the heat rose inside her groin. She
ground her hips down and humped feverishly, pulling, straining at
the ties, basking in the wondrous sexual eroticism that was
flooding her body.
Then she became aware of the sharp ache behind her, aware of
it in the same way she was aware of Paul's hands moving over her,
of his lips on her neck and throat. It was merely another
sensation, another among a myriad of pleasures rippling along her
overworked nervous system.
Then suddenly she knew it was for what it was. Understanding
burst through the waves of pleasure and she caught her breath in
shock, then rejection, then a terrible, dark passion seemed to
catch at her throat. She held almost still, concentrating on the
sensation of his cock going into her.
She had never been sodomized, of course, nor ever wished to,
but now, it seemed the ultimate in sexual passion. Now, as she lay
belly down, tied spreadeagled, helpless, she pictured herself and
pictured Paul, and pictured his stiff boner pushing down into her
anus, and a wave of shocking, almost exultant sex-heat crackled
through her mind like an electrical storm.
She felt his thick cock going deeper and deeper, working its
way up her anal tube. She felt herself bloated out, felt herself
opened, felt the walls of her anus caressed by his thick meat, and
then bared down on her pussy muscles, chewing on the buzzing
vibrator.
She screamed as she came, smashing her face again and again
into the mattress as a stunning blast of ecstasy ripped through her
body and mind. She jerked spastically, shaking and straining and
tearing at the ties as the climax bit into her guts and tore her
mind through a wall of madness.
She felt, from a far distance, his cock thrusting harder,
burying itself in her asshole, felt his balls mashing against her
buttocks as he ground himself into her, then felt the first
movements as he began to pump into her.
She fell into a deep, dark well, then felt a flood of
flickering, sun-bright pleasure pouring over her. It swamped her
senses, and she bounced and swayed and turned end over end within
it, her mind basking in euphoria.
Atop her, Paul no longer felt the need for much gentleness. As
she cried out her pleasure and her body thrashed and shook and
rocked from side to side, he thrust his cock into her to the balls,
ground himself against her, then paused only long enough to look
down and see, with triumphant eyes, her tight round asshole
gripping the base of his tool.
Then he began to pump, fighting the tightness of her sucking
asshole, tearing up and down slowly, but with ever increasing speed
as he beat down her muscles. He felt the buzzing and humming of the
vibrator in her twat tube, felt it against his cock deep inside her
belly, and cursed in pleasure, driven to new heights as he pounded
his cock feverishly down into her round rectal hole.
She continued to tear at the ties, her head bouncing, grunting
and moaning and gurgling in pleasure. He rode her wildly, feeling
a glorious pride, even arrogance, at mastering, humbling his
strong-willed, dignified wife, at pounding his cock up her asshole
as she came with uncontrollable passion.
Yes! He was the boss! And she was his! She belonged to him! He
would fuck her brains out!
He panted and grunted in heated pleasure as he slammed his
cock down into her asshole with forceful strokes. He let his body
crush her to the bed, his ass rising and falling like a triphammer
as he gave it to her, then he pushed himself up on his hands,
shoving them down between her shoulder blades, straightening his
arms to look down and watch his tool punching into her, reaming out
her buttery little asshole.
"Fuck! Fuck! Yeah! Yeahhh! Take my cock! Whore! Slut! Ungh!
Ungh! Up the ass! Up your ASS! Ungh! UNgh!"
He hammered his hips down against her soft buttocks, feeling
the heavy impact shake her body, hearing the crack of noise as
flesh met flesh. He speared his cock up her asshole, almost like a
weapon, stabbing her again and again as his lust built up to almost
delirious heights.
She had stopped her shaking, and was alternately still, limp,
or straining at the ties. But he only had eyes for her asshole. he
rode her ass with a terrible pleasure, doing something he'd dreamed
of for years, pouring out the years of frustration, the years of
watching her tight, round, firm, beautiful ass and not being able
to do what he'd so often dreamed.
But now he was, now she was laying there helpless, grunting
like a bitch in heat as he ripped his cock up and down in her ass
hole! As he fucked her up the ass! As he butt-fucked her!
Jamie Buchman, the proud, gorgeous, intelligent, wilful,
feminist, laying there with her ass up getting BUTT-FUCKED!
His balls ruptured, his juice pouring out like a firehose,
blasting up into her bowels like a sperm enema. He gnashed his
teeth in pleasure as he dropped full length atop her once more,
biting the side of her throat as he rutted against her asshole.
He felt her spasming hole sucking the juice right out of his
cock as she gurgled and groaned, then he lay still atop her,
moaning in happiness as he felt the last of his gunk draining into
her ass.
Paul got up early the next morning to play softball. Jamie
stayed in bed, pretending she was asleep when he got up. After he'd
gone she sat up, wincing, and tried to put her mind to what had
happened yesterday, tried to understand how their sex life had
changed, and why she was permitting it, much less enjoying it.
For her, sex had always been a thing of romance and love. Now,
somehow, it had become a lewd, crude, rutting and grunting exercise
that left her bruised, physically exhausted, and emotionally
drained.
She had organized her life on the assumption that she was
totally equal to any man, and her sex life was along the same
lines. Sex was supposed to be a gentle, loving exercise that
reinforced the bonds between two people.
Emotional bonds, not physical ones!
That she had permitted him to tie her up for kicks was not
what really bothered her. What was bothering her was the intensity
of the pleasure she was feeling, and the way her body took control
of her, the way she was unable to restrain herself, much less Paul.
She had never believed she could experience such ecstasy. Even
now, awash in guilt and uncertainty over everything, she knew she
wanted almost nothing so much as to feel that pleasure again. She
worried about what it was doing to her, to Paul, to their
relationship.
But it didn't matter. That terrible, wonderful pleasure was
better than anything she had ever felt in her life. The moment of
ultimate pleasure, when her body had shook so hard her teeth had
rattled, was more fulfilling than anything that had ever happened
to her before.
She could not give it up. She couldn't! She had to have it
again...and again...and again...no matter what!
But were there no limits? Would she do anything, let him do
anything? She had found the bondage intensely exciting. What did
that say about her? Was there some kind of psychological problem
buried deep in her sub-conscious? Why had she responded so
powerfully?
And he had sodomised her! God! God! God! He had done that to
her...and she had loved it! She was sick! Sick!
The memory was so fresh, so bright, so strong, that she
imagined she could feel the ties around her wrists and ankles,
could feel her body splayed out, his weight atop her, his cock
churning up her guts...
She looked down and saw, to her shock, that he fingers had
crept between her legs, and that she was unconsciously stroking her
pussy slit.
She snatched them away, shaking a bit, wondering if the
passion of this...this...feverish sexual heat would somehow render
her mindless, destroy her will.
But still it didn't matter. She knew she had to have that
pleasure again, knew she couldn't go back to the soft, romantic
love-making that had left her stroking his head and smiling after
his climax, but with no climax of her own.
She was addicted to it. She wondered if it was possible to be
addicted to sex, to the terrible thrill that gripped her body when
he used her so roughly. She couldn't ask anyone, though. The very
idea of mentioning this to her friends made her blush. What would
they think of her, feminists all, if she told them how she loved
being tied up and sosomized, how she let him spank her and
masturbate her, then use her like a cheap little whore?
She got up and went into the bathroom, stripping naked along
the way, and stood in front of the full length mirror. She opened
her legs and stared down at her crotch, noting the bruising on her
inner thighs. She cupped her pussy, and felt the tenderness, then
turned, bending somewhat, to see the lighter bruising, mostly red,
sore areas on her ass.
There were also marks on her wrists, and she could only stare
at herself in amazement, wondering how she was to cope with this.
She got into the shower, washed her hair too, then dressed in
pants and blouse. She had breakfast, and watched the news. And by
the time Paul had returned she had decided that their relationship
would be split along a simple line. Outside of the bedroom they
would continue to be equals. She would not allow him to dominate
her, to take control. She would fight that.
Inside the bedroom, she would let him have his way, let
him...ravage her, use her, fuck her to his heart's content. She
would be the cheap whore, the slut. It would be worth it for that
pleasure, for that terrible rush of heat.
That was an amazing surrender for someone who had almost from
the start insisted that Paul could be on top half the time, and she
would be on top the other half.
There was no question who was on top now.
She felt a definite tightening in her stomach muscles at the
sound of a key in the lock, but the feeling consisted of
anticipation almost as much as anxiety. Paul came in and went to
the closet, then tossed his baseball glove inside.
"Good game?" she asked.
"We lost."
"Oh, sorry."
"Ahh, life sucks, and then you die," he said, coming up behind
her and hugging and kissing her.
"You're such an optimist," she said.
"Bought you something."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, come on in the living room and I'll show you."
"I'm cooking."
"It'll wait."
"Just a second, let me set it on low," she sighed.
She followed him out into the living room and saw him proudly
pulling something out of a bag. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw
the black lace. It was...a black bustier, garter belt, black
stockings, and...a G-string. She'd never actually worn a G-string
before.
"You going to model them for me?" she asked.
"No. You're going to model them for me."
"Paaull. I can't wear these," she said, half amused, half
scandalized.
"Sure you can."
"I'd look like a hooker!"
"No, you wouldn't. You'd look sexy. Come on, give em' a try."
"Well...uhm, later maybe."
"Now. It'll only take a second."
She reluctantly picked them up, then headed for the bedroom.
"Why don't you just try them on here?"
"Because I don't want to."
"I can help you," he grinned.
"No, thank you."
She went into the bedroom and stripped, removing her much less
sexy lingerie. She watched the door carefully, not at all putting
it past him to burst in on her changing.
First she pulled on the G-string. It felt
surprisingly...erotic. He was right about how sexy it made her feel
anyway.
She pulled on the garter belt and fastened it around her, then
drew on the stockings, fastening them to the garter belt. Lastly
she pressed the tight, lacy bustier against her chest, then slowly
closed it and tied it in place. It was surprisingly tight,
especially against her breasts.
She went into the bathroom and gazed at herself in wonder. She
adjusted her breasts a little in the cups of the bustier, then
stood back, looking at herself.
God! I look incredibly slutty!
She took off her glasses, then turned and posed for herself,
then hurriedly brushed her hair, then put on some lipstick.
"Honey?" Paul called from the bedroom.
"Just a minute," she called.
She felt herself heating up as she looked at herself. She'd
never really gone in for sexy lingerie. While in high school she'd
been under the influence of her very Catholic parents, then in
college it had been the feminists. Looking sexy was even more of a
sin to a feminist than to the Pope.
There was one thing she needed, she realized. She needed high
heels.
"Paul?"
"Yeah?"
"Look in the closet and get my black high heels."
It wasn't necessary to tell him which. He'd get the highest
ones, she was sure.
He knocked on the door and she opened it just enough for him
to pass the shoes through. She put them on, then made him stand
back before she came out.
She came out almost swaggering, surprising herself at how
brazen she acted. She stood straight, pushing her breasts out,
knowing that the tight little cups which lifted them up and pushed
them together also left them almost naked. The cups were almost
transparent, and anyway, only covered the lower halfs of her orbs,
barely reaching the nipples.
"Hey, sailor," she said in a husky voice. "Looking for a
party?"
She felt her blood boiling and her skin sizzling with
excitement. Her pussy was moist, and she thought she could smell
the musky heat of her sex as she leaned against the wall. His eyes
excited her, for they were obviously alight with lust at the sight
of her.
There was certainly no question any more that she excited him.
He whistled in appreciation, and she turned, bending slightly
and showing him her bare ass.
"What a slutty girl," he growled, moving against her.
She turned around and her lips met his as his arms slid around
her. His hands gripped her bare ass cheeks as their tongues slid
together inside her mouth.
She felt his groin pressing against her, felt his hardness
through his jeans, and felt herself responding, felt her own heat
rising with his.
She raised her right leg, curling it around him as their
bodies ground together, then, a thought translated instantly to
action. Without even thinking about it she reached down and undid
his pants, shoving them down and pulling out his cock. She gripped
it in her hands, still kissing him, still sliding her tongue along
his, then pressed his cockhead against her snatch.
She eased the G-string aside and pressed his cock into her,
then groaned in bliss as he thrust up and in, driving his prick
high into her belly. He pulled a hand off her ass and tore her
right breast out of the cup, then bent and sucked and chewed on it,
his mouth voracious.
He gripped both breasts then, mauling them as he pressed her
back against the wall. Her hands went over his shoulders and she
kept her leg raised high as he bit on her throat, then her nipple,
then slid his hands around her again, clutched her ass, and drove
himself into her with a deep, powerful stroke.
She cried out ,and gripped him tightly, waves of heat
suffocating her, drowning her in sexual passion. His body threw her
back against the wall, and then she was in his hands completely,
her legs both around him as he pounded his hips into her.
She pulled herself upwards, grunting and gasping as his heavy
body pounded against her again and again. His lips suckled on her
nipples, biting and chewing as his tongue slurped over them. His
hands jerked her ass up to meet each thrust, and he fucked
furiously, wildly, pounding his cock up her slit with unrestrained
violence.
She felt herself approaching a cum, and knew only a moment's
fear at how fast and hard it was coming, then, even as her mind
warned her against this the orgasm rolled over her and she forgot
everything else.
It was wild, and rough and crude...and she loved it, loved
being smashed back into the wall, loved his hips crushing hers,
loved the feeling of raw, carnal eroticism as he growled and
grunted and chewed on her throat and ears, and spiked his cock high
into her belly.
And afterwards, after they had sagged slowly to the floor and
lay there tiredly, he had pulled her head back, gripping her hair,
and casually forced her head back, then crushed her lips in a
casual, deliberately forceful way.
Then, helping her to her feet, he had virtually demanded she
not dress. She had pulled her cups up, put her breasts, at least
half of them, back into the bustier, and adjusted the G-string over
herself, then gone back into the kitchen to finish cooking lunch.
It was the first time she could remember feeling sexy and
erotic as she made lunch. He sat at the table and watched, and she
knew his eyes roamed her body as she moved from place to place, new
how naked she was, and how hot.
Even sitting at the table with him eating she had felt hot,
her body aglow with lust as they ate, anticipating more of the
rough, carnal sexuality he had displayed over the past week.
What she had not expected was for him to take her by the hand,
lead her back to the living room, then calmly remove her sexy
lingerie, stripping her naked, undressing her like she was a doll,
his doll, his...sex toy.
He had removed her watch, her earrings, and even her glasses,
which made her blink her eyes and squint just a little. Her eyes
weren't very bad, but she was used to them.
Then he pulled another back out from under the coffee table
and pulled from it a long length of rope. She gaped at it, even as
he said "Put your hands behind your back."
She couldn't believe it, and even as the fires were blazing up
within her she felt his hand crack against her ass, and yelped in
pain.
"Hands behind your back, wrists crossed. Come on. Do as you're
told, slutty girl."
As if in a daze she obeyed, squeezing her thighs together at
the rush of heat and lubrication in her pussy. She crossed her
wrists, and felt him carefully wrapping the rope around them,
criss-crossing them and binding them tightly together.
He had an awful lot of rope for just tying her wrists
together,but she didn't wonder at it, and felt only more excited,
more aroused, as he brought the rope around her waist from either
side, then looped them back around behind her and tied them off.
He reached down between her legs, slapping them so she'd open
them, then pulled the rope between them, and up directly across her
cleft. He pushed the rope through the loop around her waist, then
jerked upwards hard. She gasped in surprise as the rope was forced
up between her pussy lips.
He pulled the rope down over the loop around her waist,
tugging that downwards, then pulled it back between her waist and
up the crack of her ass. Again he tugged sharply, forcing that up
between her pussy lips before tying it to the ropes behind her.
She looked down in amazement, shocked at the look and feel of
herself like this, almost unable to keep her legs still as the
ropes dug into her soft, moist, pink pussy flesh and crushed her
clit. She was almost ready to come just by rubbing her thighs
together.
Still, he wasn't finished. She felt him pulling upwards, and
then the rope came over her right shoulder, then also over her
left. The two strands hung down over her swollen breasts, directly
across her hot, sensitive nipples. She thought he would tie them
down against the rope around her waist, but instead he moved in
front of her and tied loops in both ropes.
"Bend over," he ordered, pushing on her shoulder.
She bent way over, and he squatted beside her, then reached up
and took the rope that was dangling from her left shoulder. He drew
it towards her right, then fitted the loop around her right breast.
He pushed the loop right against her ribs, then slowly, and
carefully adjusted the loop and tightened it.
"Paaulll," she moaned, when it tightened painfully.
He ignored her, and she felt the tremendous pressure in her
breast as the cone shaped orb was forced out into a fat, round ball
of hardened meat. He pulled the rope behind her and tied it off
somewhere near the small of her back, then too the other rope, the
one hanging over her right shoulder, and pulled it to her left,
putting the loop around that breast.
When he let her stand up her breasts were so taut, so tight
she thought they would explode from the pressure. They stuck out
like mushrooms, and she could hardly breath without the ropes
digging into her flesh.
She squeezed her thighs together, and came helplessly, gasping
and whining and shaking in place, moaning and humping feverishly.
Paul quickly slid his hand between her legs and squeezed down hard,
repeatedly crushing her pussy lips and the ropes inside them.
She sobbed in an agony of pleasure, her legs folding beneath
her and dropping her to her knees. She moaned and felt her head
boiling with an inferno of pleasure, engulfing her body in a
sizzling blaze of sexual power.
Paul continued to squeeze her pussy, and also ran his hand
over her taut breasts, pinching at the nipples as she came. Only
after her come had subsided, and she was laying there in the warm
afterglow, did he stop, and continue with his ropes.
He led the two ropes down her back, then pulled them around
her thighs just below her buttocks, tying them tightly, then led
them further down her legs before looping them around her legs just
above her knees. Again he tied them off tightly, then led them down
to her ankles, looped them around, and tied them off tightly.
By then she had recovered some strength. Her body was still
throbbing with sexual heat, though, and though she gasped in pain,
she offered no resistance as he pulled her to her knees...partly by
the arm, and partly by the hair. He had her kneel in front of him.
She couldn't even sit back on her heels, for that made the ropes
between her cunt lips cut up into her with tremendous pressure.
He stepped back and stripped naked, then, grinning, left her
and went into the bedroom. He returned with the camcorder on a
tripod. She turned a dark red, and though the idea of him taking
pictures of her like this was exciting, it was also shocking enough
for her to protest at last.
"Paaaul! Nooo!"
"Why not?"
"I...I don't want you to take videos of me like this!' she
gasped.
He grinned, then set up the camcorder, and went to the TV. He
rolled the TV over so she could see it clearly, then turned on the
VCR and put a tape in. She watched, her eyes going wide as she saw
what was on it.
He let the tape play, watching her reactions as she saw
herself writhing and screaming in orgasm, as she saw him running
the feather over her. Her entire body seemed to flush red, and she
thought for a moment he'd miscalculated, that she would abandon
their games and be furious.
But instead she began grinding and rubbing her thighs
together, and then slowly, groaning as she did, she lowered
herself, sitting back on her heels. Then she began to rise up and
down, as if she were fucking something, or...no...she was jerking
off on the ropes between her pussy lips!
He watched in excitement and fascination as she stared at the
TV as if hypnotised. She was breathing heavily, groaning and
gasping as her ass humped up and down. Then she sat down hard on
her heels and kind of ground her ass down on them. She flung her
head back, arching her back, and making her breasts strain even
more strongly.
Her head jerked back again, then again, then again, as her
entire body trembled and shook, then she lost her balance and fell
on her side, grunting and moaning as she rubbed herself against the
ropes.
He looked up at the camcorder and saw with satisfaction, that
she was still in it's vision, and that the small red light was on,
signifying that it was recording.
He felt his bulging erection, running his hand up and down it,
then got up and ran into the bedroom. He took the vibrator out of
the box he'd stored it in and hurried back to her,
She still lay on her side, but the orgasm seemed to have
passed. She was panting heavily, her eyes closed. He knelt beside
her and turned her onto her back, then lifted her legs and pressed
them back tightly against her chest. She groaned again, air puffing
out of her mouth. He reached down to her crotch, gripping the ropes
between her pussy lips. They were tight, very tight, but he was
able to pull down on the rope around her waist, easing the pressure
enough that, with some effort, he was able to slide the two strands
just an inch to one side.
He picked up the vibrator then, turned it on, and pressed it
against her exposed cunt hole. With her thighs actually bound
tightly together, her pussy hole was extremely tight. But she was
soaking wet, her pussy hair plstered against her sweating thighs
and drooling pussy mound.
He forced the rounded head of the vibrator against her hole
and shoved it down, twisting it from side to side as he slowly
worked it up into the groaning, moaning woman's fuck hole. He felt
the strain, the pressure around the plastic tube as he put his
weight on it, shoving it inside her, forcing the thing fully inside
her body.
It didn't quite disappear, though he pushed hard, but when he
eased the two loops of rope back over it Jamie groaned and writhed
briefly, then her breath rattled and her eyes closed.
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From adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com Wed Apr 23 13:27:46 1997
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From: adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Mad About You Pt 5 [mf/bond-cons]
Date: 23 Apr 1997 13:27:46 -0400
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The THC Adult Text Archive: MADYOU5.TXT (426 lines)
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==========================================================================
Mad About You - 5 [mf/consensual bondage]
WARNING!
The following story contains scenes of graphic sex and bondage.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvv
He pulled her up onto her knees, and she groaned and shook her
head weakly.
"Jesus, Jesus," she whispered.
"How's that pussy of yours feeling, baby?" he growled, sliding
his hands through her hair. He dropped to his own knees in front of
her, and ran his hands over her tight, taut breasts, marvelling at
the sensation. His hands stroked over the soft orbs, then his
fingers pinched and pulled at her stiff, hard nipples.
He stood up, still holding onto her hair, gazing down at her
with a feeling of ultimate satisfaction.
He tugged on her hair, unsure still, of how far he could go,
pulling it up, forcing her to rise, even though he knew it hurt
her, maybe because he knew it hurt. She gasped and yelped in pain,
but rose, straightening somewhat. He held her hair in one hand and
rubbed his cock over her face.
"All right, Jamie, here's a nice hard cock for you," he
breathed. "Suck it off, baby. Suck it off like a real slut."
Since she had first felt the tightness of the ropes around her
wrists Jamie's mind had been enveloped in a sexual fog. Her entire
world had been reduced to the sexual pleasures being inflicted on
her body. The more rope he h
ad wrapped around her the more excited
she had become.
The pressure of the rope against her pussy, against her
clitoris, had only increased the force of that sexual passion. She
was almost unable to control her body. In fact, it was more like
her body was controlling her.
The heat in her groin was powerful, irresistible, it throbbed
and glowed and tore at her mind, demanding attention, demanding
sex, demanding penetration, yearning for a touch, for pressure, for
anything.
Her breasts pulsed with heat, radiating it. They were
glistening damply as she sweated, hard and throbbing, centered by
two burning hot embers that had once been her nipples, now so
sensitive that the very air moving across them made her gasp in
pleasure.
And now there was the vibrator up inside her, the tightness
and heaviness in her belly, the hardness being gripped by her pussy
flesh, the weight of it, and of course, the frantic buzzing and
vibrations that was making her jerk her hips from side to side.
Every time she moved her ass she strained against the ropes
between her pussy lips, making them dig up into her soft meat,
making them press harder against the base of the vibrator, forcing
it up harder against her cervix.
And now she was on her knees, and Paul was rubbing his cock
over her sweating face, an outrage that would have ended their love
making not that long ago. Now all it did was turn the roaring heat
up higher, for she was a sex toy, and loved it, gloried in it.
He gripped her damp hair and jerked her face against him, and
she cried out, but the pain was nothing to the pleasure, and she
opened her mouth wide to take his cock, panting for breath before
he shoved it in.
She sucked hungrily, bobbing her lips up and down as he
roughly ran his fingers through. He started to pump his cock in her
mouth, thus violating another old rule of hers, that he stay
absolutely still when she had his cock in her mouth.
Now he actually held her head in his hands, squeezing down on
it from either side, as he fucked his cock back and forth through
her lips. Jamie could hardly believe it, and the raw carnal nature
of the act set her off again.
She humped and ground her hips violently, shaking and moaning
and suckling desperately at his cock as she came. Her pussy bit and
chewed on the hardened plastic buzzing away inside her. When Paul
took one hand off her hair and ran it down to her chest and
squeezed her hard breast she screamed.
Screamed.
The sound was not that loud, for it was muffled by the big
cock in her mouth, but for the first time in her life she screamed
in pleasure, screamed as the burning, crackling sexual heat slashed
across her mind and body, tearing the world apart.
Her mind was dazed by the overload of sexual pleasure. She
couldn't think straight. And didn't care about anything anyway.
Anything but pleasure.
Anything but the glowing fireball inside her.
Anything but the glorious sexual steam boiling her body from
the insides out.
It wasn't until several sharp sensations managed to stab
through the haze and fog that she realized she had stopped sucking
on Paul's cock, and that he was slapping her face lightly to get
her attention.
Not that lightly. It hurt. She started sucking again, working
her mouth up and down his cock. She was drooling, but didn't care.
She sucked and slurped and licked against his cock as he once again
began to pump it in and out of her face.
"Yeah. Suck that! Suck my cock, slut! Slutty little whore!"
The words stabbed through the fog too, but she loved them,
loved the way they made her feel.
Slut, she thought. Whore. Sex-toy. Little slutty boy-toy.
"Suck my cock, slut."
He fucked harder, and then, even as she began to hump her ass
again, began to whine at the tingling and gnawing of the vibrator
inside her, the rasping of the now sopping wet ropes against her
tender pussy flesh, just as she began to feel, with shocked
delight, the approach of another orgasm, he thrust especially hard,
and his cock somehow slid right down her throat.
Her mind was too blasted by sexual heat to react at first. All
she could do was struggle with the discomfort and the nausea, to
try to understand what had happened. Her throat...itched...no,
it...it felt full, like she was choking on something.
She tried to pull her arms up, to raise her hands to her
throat, but of course, couldn't, and as her mind slowly managed to
wrap itself around what was happening, as she realized that he had
actually got his cock right down in her throat...
She came.
it was yet another massive goad to her sense of dignity, to
her sudden deep, gut-level need for him to use her in a raw, rough,
carnal way, for him to treat her like a cheap sluttish sex-toy. She
had heard of the term dep throating before, had even considered the
very notion to be exciting.
But she had a distaste for sucking cocks, and couldn't ever
imagine herself actually doing...that.
But no she had her lips pressed against the base of his cock,
and his balls were against her chin. She was staring at his belly
from an inch away, and her throat bulged with the thickness of his
throbbing male organ.
It shot her off the edge of sanity, and she thrashed and shook
violently, humping desperately back as she tried to scream and
howl. Her throat was utterly blocked, however, and allowed no space
for either words or oxygen.
She didn't care. She didn't care that she couldn't breath. She
didn't care that her chest was tight and hot from lack of air, that
her head was ready to explode. Her mind was fading out, but she
didn't know or care about that either. She bathed in the fire of
ecstasy as her vision blurred.
Then he pulled his cock out of her throat, and she could
breath again. She fell back onto the floor and lay there panting
for breath for long minutes. She had a...taste in her mouth, and
knew...unconsciously, that he had come in her mouth...in her
throat.
She moaned weakly, chest heaving as she tried to regain some
sense of what was going on. The buzzing in her crotch didn't help
that any, however.
Paul slowly untied her, starting at her ankles, then her
knees, then her thighs, then untying the rope behind her and
pulling the two strands up to her breasts, slowly easing their
tight, biting grip around her sore orbs.
Her wrists were last, because they'd been first, and as soon
as they were free she brought them around in front of her, to her
pussy. She lay on her side, her thighs together, and slid her
fingers in between them, curling herself up into the fetal position
as she humped slowly, rubbing her clitty and pressing against the
base of the vibrator.
Paul got the camera off the tripod and stood over her, then
reached out with his foot and shoved her arm, rolling her onto her
back. She hardly noticed him. She spread her legs naturally,
rubbing her clitty as she moaned in pleasure.
He eased onto one knee and reached down for the vibrator with
one hand, gripping the end and pulling it out halfway. He pumped it
in and out, then left it alone with just an inch inside. He pulled
back, and focused the camera as Jamie instantly grabbed it and
shoved it up her sweating, drooling cunt crack.
She pumped it in and of herself, head back, eyes closed,
grunting and panting and moaning as she raised her knees and spread
them wide. Then she came again, humping desperately, whimpering and
sobbing as the pleasure ripped through her body.
Afterwards he pulled the vibrator out of her, then lifted her
and carried her through the bedroom and into the bathroom, setting
her down in the tub. He turned on the water and poured in some
bubblebath, then climbed in beside her as the water slowly rose.
They sat hip to hip, his arm around her, her head on his
shoulder as she tried to recover some control of herself.
"Hot little slut," he said affectionately.
"What's happening to me?" she breathed.
"You're having fun. Don't question it."
"Jesus Christ. I thought I'd go crazy."
"What a way to go," he smiled, caressing the side of her face.
"I thought my body would explode," she said, blinking her
eyes. "It was so wonderful I couldn't stand it."
"You're making me jealous."
He slid his hand down and cupped her breast and she gasped and
pushed his hand back.
"Don't!" she gasped. "Oh, they're sore!'
"Are they? Want me to kiss them and make them better?"
"No! That's the last thing I want. They'll get all...hard
again."
"They looked great hard."
"Not that hard," she sighed. "Jesus."
She cupped her pussy and felt the aching there, the rawness
from where the ropes had dug into her tender pink meat, and looked
at her wrists, which had rope burns on them.
"Shit," she said.
"I didn't tie them that tight," he said. "It was your pulling
at them that did this."
"I...I know."
"You really get off on being tied up, huh."
"I...yes, I don't know why."
"It kind of does something for me too, baby."
"You're turning me into...some kind of...masochist."
"No I'm not. You're still you. So what if you get off on
vibrators and ropes. We won't tell the man-haters down at your
agency.
"They'd never believe it."
"They would if we showed them the video tapes."
"Oh Jesus!!"
He laughed and kissed her before she slid down under the
water. He pulled her back up and she rubbed the water off her face.
"What you are doing," he said, thinking for a moment "is
coming to terms with your sexuality."
"Oh, don't give me that feminist bullshit," she said.
"Okay then, what you're doing is having a helluva lot of fun.
Who gives a shit what other people would say? They aren't going to
know."
They spent the rest of the afternoon in comfortable
relaxation, not thinking much about sex, acting like they always
had. He took her out to a restaurant, then they went dancing. That
night they made comfortable, easy love in bed.
The next day she got out of bed in a relaxed, easy-going mood,
and went to the kitchen. Paul shuffled in a couple of minutes
behind her, kissed her on the side of the neck, then slid his hand
under her nightshirt and squeezed her bare ass.
Then he put his hands around her and hugged her.
"Good morning, Beautiful."
"Morning, handsome," she said, turning her head and smiling.
"Now why on earth are you wearing this?" he asked in mock
surprise.
His hands began unbuttoning the nightshirt.
"Paaaulll," she protested.
"A body this sexy shouldn't be covered up," he said,
unbuttoning the nightshirt to the hem, then pulling it off her
shoulders.
She considered protesting, but decided not to. She felt sexy,
and liked it that he was turned on by her.
She made breakfast in the nude, then put his plate in front of
him and hers on the other side of the table. He halted her, pulled
her plate over next to his, then pulled her down on his lap.
"Paaulll," she giggled. "You're being silly."
"Silly, am I?" he growled.
He buried his face in the nape of her neck and blew
raspberries, then they took turns feeding each other from their
plates.
After breakfast she washed the dishes while he went out and
got the papers. When he got back she had the nightshirt on, and he
took it off again, taking the time to fondle and grope her body and
kiss her a little.
Then she stretched out on the sofa...naked, and he sat back on
the recliner while they read the papers. Afterwards, Sunday being
their housekeeping day, Paul scrubbed the floor while she did the
laundry...in the nude.
It felt very strange being naked all the time, but Paul was
insistent, and she felt too...sexually free and alive to really
argue. It was silly, but...even doing something as dull as bending
over to take the laundry out of the hamper, or squatting to sort it
on the floor, or reaching, stretching to vacuum the curtains drew
her mind towards sex.
Leaning into the hamper she leaned further than she normally
did, and spread her legs as she did, imagining that Paul would come
up like that and fuck her. As she squatted, she imagined he was
below her, his cock rigid. As she stretched, she imagined herself
bound by the wrists while he fucked her.
Several times she went to him, pressing her lush, naked body
against him, giggling and cooing, and trying to grope him, trying
to excite him into sex. But he calmly refused, slapping her ass and
sending her back to finish the chores.
It was, if nothing else, the most interesting time she'd ever
had doing chores. She made him lunch, then tried to asses, while
watching him, whether he wanted her to sit on her lap or somewhere
else.
He pulled her against him, but stopped her from sitting.
Instead he turned her around and pulled her wrists together behind
her back.
"My wrists are still sore," she said worriedly.
"Don't worry about it."
He produced a length of silk, a silk scarf he'd given her once
which she'd never worn, and wrapped it carefully around her wrists.
It was loose enough that she could hardly feel it, yet she couldn't
move her wrists even the smallest bit.
Then he pulled her onto his lap, having her lean back as he
spooned up soup, directing every second spoonful to her mouth.
Several times he spilled some onto her breasts, then licked it off.
She found that incredibly sexy, especially when he sucked at her
nipples.
He lifted up a roll and positioned it in front of her mouth
but she shook her head.
"Put some butter on it," she said.
"Butter? The lady wants butter?"
"Of course I want butter. What kind of a clod eats a roll
without butter?"
"You don't stop being rude you'll get a spanking," he warned.
"Sorry," she said, after an eternity's hesitation. She
almost wanted a spanking. She was so turned on she had already
decided that if he didn't do something she was going to go in the
bathroom after lunch and masturbate. She also wondered where that
vibrator was.
"Say please," he said.
"Please," she parroted.
"Please may I have some butter," he taunted.
"Please may I have some butter."
He reached over to the butter and dug his fingers into it.
"PAaaaulll!"
"What? You wanted butter."
"Use a knife, pig!"
"I don't think I need a knife."
He took the butter and rubbed it over her nipples.
"Paaulll."
He licked at her nipples and she closed her eyes and sighed in
pleasure. Between the chill of her nudity, and the excitement that
had gripped her most of the morning, her nipples had been erect for
so long they were almost painfully stiff.
He lapped and suckled as he reached for more butter. He dug
out another wad, but instead of putting it against her breasts he
slid it down between her legs and rubbed it against her pussy
mound, digging his fingers into the soft flesh and forcing them up
between her lips.
She spread her legs and groaned as he pulled her head back by
the hair, forcing her breasts up and out tautly. He licked and
sucked, moving between her nipples as his fingers stroked across
her buttery clitty. He returned his fingers to the butter and drew
out another soft chunk, shoving that against her muff, forcing it
up into her pussy tunnel.
He pumped his fingers inside her as he rubbed his thumb across
her clitty, and she ground her ass into his lap as she felt the
waves of pleasure rolling across her body. He chewed on her throat,
then licked at her nipples again as he jerked her off, then, as her
moans became more passionate, her movements more desperate, he
pulled his head back, lifting her head forward by the hair.
He stared down at her face as he thrust his fingers into her
sharply, jamming three, then four fingers up her buttery cunt as
his thumb stroked rapidly over her clitty. He watched the passion
played out on her face, watched the intensity of her pleasure as
she panted and groaned, her mouth wide, her eyes tightly closed.
Then she stiffened, her back arching against him, her crotch
humping furiously against his fingers as he stabbed them up inside
her. She cursed and grunted, her legs jerking and bouncing in mid-
air as she thrashed and shook.
Then she went limp, her head falling backwards. He pushed
himself up, carrying her across to the living room before easing
down to his knees. He set her on the floor, then immediately rolled
her over, pulling her ass up.
She spread her legs willingly, still hot despite the shakiness
in her limbs. She was on her knees, her shoulder pressed to the rug
as his hands stroked her ass. She felt his cock against her pussy
meat, rubbing up and down against the oily flesh, sawing back and
forth between her cunt lips.
"Tell me what you want, slut!"
"Fuck me!" she panted. "Fuck me, Paul!"
"You want my cock?"
"Fuck mee! Fuck me with your cock! Stick it into me!"
She cried out as he thrust into her, driving his cock in to
the hilt in one motion. He seized her hips and began to fuck with
a harsh, rapid motion, using the oil of her body as well as the
butter to send his cock pounding down her fuck tunnel with fast,
driving strokes.
He slapped her ass and she yelped. Then she felt his finger
against her asshole. She shuddered as it pushed in, sliding in to
the knuckle and twisting around in her rectum.
He curled his finger back and used it to lift her ass upwards,
pulling it up in time to his strokes. He pulled his finger out,
then rubbed his hand against her greasy pussy. He gave her ass
another slap, then thrust his finger up it again.
"You know what you need, Jamie...Jamie Buchman...you know what
you need...you need it up the asshole. Isn't that right? You need
your ass pounded. Don't you? Don't you?"
He slapped her ass again, and she cried out.
"Tell me you want it up the ass, slut! Tell me how bad you
need your ass reamed!"
"Paaaulll! Ooooohhhh!"
"Beg for it!"
"Noooo!"
He slapped her ass harder, and she yelped again.
"Tell me what a whore you are."
"I...I'm a whore," she gasped.
"You want a cock up the asshole. Don't you?"
"I...I...yes. Yessss."
"Beg for it."
"Fuck my ass!" she gasped, shocked to the core of her being at
her words. "Fuck me in the asshole!"
"Yeah! Up the ass, right?"
"Up my aaaaasss!" she moaned.
"You want to be butt-fucked? Beg! Beg!"
He slapped her ass even harder, and she cried out again,
louder.
"Butt fuck meeeee," she sobbed. "Please butt-fuck me! Please
fuck me in the ass!"
"You cheap slut!"
He cracked his hand on her ass and she cried out in pain.
He tore his cock free of her snatch and pressed it against her
asshole.
"This is it, whore! I'm gonna fuck your asshole! I'm gonna
pound my cock so far up your ass the jism is gonna come out of your
mouth! Dirty slut! Ungh! Uhhhhoooooohhhhh!"
He forced his cock slowly down into her tight asshole, and
they both groaned at the sensation. He loved the tightness as her
ass muscles squeezed down on him, and loved the sight of his cock
pushing into his wife's ass.
He saw her wrists pulling and twisting at the scarf, and
slapped her ass again, then again, finding that it loosened her ass
and let him thrust forward sharply. He buried his boner in her ass
and sighed in pleasure, stroking and kneading her ass flesh.
"Theeeere you go, slut. There you goooo. Your ass is all full
of cock meat now. You like that? Ehhh? Like that, slut?"
He twisted his cock around inside her, sliding his right hand
under her chest to knead her breast, and his left under his cock to
stroke her pussy. He began to pump down into her ass, delighted at
his mastery over her, his teeth gleaming as he looked down on his
newly submissive, sex-starved wife.
He began to pound his cock down into her with forceful
strokes, gripping her hair and twisting it enough to make her groan
and whine, using her ruthlessly. He rode over her, his arms around
her and clutching her tight as he buried his dick in her ass.
Then his hands slid off her belly, one going high, the other
low. He squeezed her breasts as he stroked her clitty, and was soon
riding a bucking bronco, his cock twisting from side to side in her
rectum as she jerked and shook her ass.
He rodded it down into her as fast and hard as he could,
straining to hold back the pressure from his balls, wanting her to
come again before he spilled his juice inside her. She was groaning
and panting and whining like a bitch in heat, and he knew she was
close.
Then she came, and he let her spasming, sucking, squeezing
asshole pull him along with her, felt wad after wad, thick and hot
and wet, blasting out the tip of his cock and pumping up into her
slutty asshole.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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-=( Tommy )=-
From adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com Wed Apr 23 13:27:53 1997
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From: adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Mad About You Pt 6 [mf/bond-cons]
Date: 23 Apr 1997 13:27:53 -0400
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The THC Adult Text Archive: MADYOU6.TXT (425 lines)
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Note: I did not write any of these stories. They are being posted from the
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==========================================================================
Mad About You - 6 [mf/consensual bondage]
WARNING!
The following story contains scenes of graphic sex and bondage.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
Jamie spent the rest of the day naked. It was, she realized
afterwards, the first day she had spent naked since she was a very
young baby.
She had also spent much of the day with her wrists bound
behind her back by the scarf. Paul had made dinner, for example,
and fed her, cutting pieces up and putting the fork against her
mouth. He had also washed her, spending a good deal of time at her
crotch...which produced two orgasms before he was finished.
She had even slept that night with her wrists tied behind her,
wakened once to find him on top of her, to feel his cock thrusting
deep and pumping wildly. She hadn't had time to come before he
finished, but he had quickly brought her off by masturbating her.
Now she was dressed in a Christian D'ior dress that covered
her from throat to ankles, her hair perfectly brushed and hanging
softly across her shoulders. She was at work, and appeared, to
anyone who saw her, like the perfect, upward oriented career woman.
She looked, in other words, respectable, disciplined,
intelligent, and self-confident, and was treated that way by her
secretary, Allison, by her boss. Philip, and by all her co-workers.
And yet, all day long imagines of her weekend kept popping
into her mind. She felt wicked, sinful, erotic. She knew that
everyone at work would be shocked, astounded if they knew how she
had spent her weekend, if they knew the things she had done, or the
things done to her.
"How was your weekend?" Allison had asked when she got in.
"Oh, fine, same as always," she'd replied.
Allison was a pretty blonde just out of her teens, very
earnest, very stern, even to the point of tying her long blonde
hair back into a bun. She was an ardent feminist, and the thought
of telling her the truth practically took Jamie's breath away.
"Oh, my weekend was great," she could have said. "Paul Paul
tied me up with rope and shoved a vibrator up my pussy, then forced
his cock down my throat. I spent all of Sunday naked with my hands
tied behind my back. Oh, yes, and of course, I was tied
spreadeagled to the bed Friday night so he could torture me with
feathers, ice, and hot wax, after which he sodomized me."
Oh yes, wouldn't that raise the girl's eyebrows to the roof!
Wouldn't that stun her friends and colleagues! Jamie Buchman, the
perfect example of the independent career woman, tied up and butt-
fucked while she begged for more.
She felt like she was living a lie, an exciting lie. They all
thought of her as this intelligent, sombre woman, and yet she was
a masochistic slut, a whore who screamed for cock meat, who said
the most degrading things to get more cock.
It was a delicious secret, and kept her day from being boring.
Whenever she found herself in some boring meeting she thought about
her secret.
That kept her pussy on a kind of low heat throughout the day,
and she made sure she got home reasonably early...by six, anyway.
She was surprised to find Paul already there when she unlocked the
door. He usually got in later than her.
"Hello, beautiful," he said, kissing her.
"Hi," she said. "You're home early."
"Couldn't stay away," he grinned, then leered.
She blushed a little, but felt her pussy triggered by the
look, and beginning to warm.
"Let me help you off with your coat," he said.
"Thanks," she said, a little warily.
"And your boots," he said, after he'd hung up her coat.
He helped her off with her boots, then grinned, and moved to
within inches of her. "Let me help you off with your dress," he
said.
It was in her mind to protest that she hadn't even eaten yet,
but didn't. Maybe he wanted her to be naked, so he could feed her
again. That was okay with her for two reasons, one it was exciting,
and two it meant he had to cook.
She let him untie the ties of her dress, and slip it over her
shoulders and down and off. She stepped out of it, then let him
remove her bra, panty hose, and panties. He also took off her watch
and earrings, as he had the other day.
She felt her pussy growing even warmer, and her breasts
swelling. Her nipples had already exploded out to the size of
raspberries.
"I went shopping today," he said.
"Oh?"
"Bought you a few things."
"That's nice."
"Like to try them on?"
"Whatever you want."
"Maybe I should help you."
"If you want."
He led her, naked, to the counter that looked out on the
dining room and living room from the kitchen, and she saw there was
a bag there. Paul leered at her again, then turned her around so
her back was to it. She heard him take something from the bag, then
felt him take her hand and pull it back.
She turned her head and saw a leather...thing...in his hands.
"What's that?" she blinked.
He wrapped it around her wrist. It was padded on the inside, yet
hard, and studded on the outside, and had a metal ring set into the
leather. She watched him clip the thing together, then saw him take
a small padlock and lock it shut.
"Jesus," she sighed, her belly tightening as she raised her wrist
to her face and examined the thing.
"It's called a leather restraint, or a leather cuff," he said. "It
won't leave any marks like the ropes."
He took her other hand and put another restraint around it,
then locked that with another small padlock. Jamie examined
them both with mingled anxiety and excitement. They
looked...dangerous...somehow menacing.
He took two more out of the bag and attached them to her
ankles, then took a studded leather collar out and put it around
her neck, locking that tightly as well. Jamie felt intensely erotic
as she examined herself, and knew her pussy was moist and ready for
anything.
He pulled something else out of the bag. It looked like
nothing more than a ping pong ball attached to a foot long hank of
hair, like a pony tail. She couldn't imagine what it's purpose was
until he ordered her to bend over and spread her legs.
Then she felt the round ball pressed against her asshole.
"Paaull. What is that?"
"Just do what you're told or I'll spank you."
She felt it slowly pushed through her asshole, then felt her
asshole snap closed behind it, the thin tail sticking out.
The last thing he pulled out was a leash, which he attached to
her collar. He tugged downwards on it, forcing her to her knees,
then to all fours, then walked forward into the living room,
pulling on the leash. Her mind steamed as she crawled along at his
side.
The tail, for that was, she quickly realized, what it was
supposed to be, was very thin where it came out her asshole, but
fluffed out considerably, and hung down between her thighs,
brushing her skin as she crawled.
He led her around the living room and dining room, then made
her halt and kneel on all fours as he walked slowly around her,
examining her. Jamie felt intensely sexual, incredibly erotic, and
yearned to be penetrated, to be rode hard.
"What a slut," he said.
She shuddered in pleasure.
"On all fours like a bitch in heat, just begging for it,
aren't you."
"Yess," she breathed.
"Spread those legs, slut. Raise that ass higher."
She obeyed him, her body gripped by a wild sexual lust.
He was wearing sweats. It took only seconds to strip them off,
then he gripped her leash and knelt in front of her.
"Suck my cock, slut," he said. "What should I call you, hmm?
What's a good name for a bitch in heat?"
He held her leash tightly as he rubbed his cock over her face,
then pushed it against her lips. She sucked it in eagerly, licking
and suckling as he ran his hand through her hair.
"How about Rover? How about I call you, Rover? Hmmm? That
sound like a good name for you, slut?"
He was pumping his cock in her mouth, and obviously wasn't
looking for an answer. She continued to suck his cock, mewling in
pleasure as he stroked and squeezed her dangling tits.
He pulled back abruptly, and made her turn around, then she
felt his cock rubbed up and down against her pussy mound.
"Ready for it, slut? Rover? Want it, Rover?"
"Yessss," she gasped.
"Beg for it."
"Please fuck me. Please fuck me, Paul!"
"Don't call me that! You're my little fuck-dog, my bitch in
heat. You can call me...Master. Got that? Beg for it, Rover."
"Please fuck me, Master!" she gasped, the tightness in her
guts now almost painful. "Please fuck me, Master. Please fuck
Rover, Master!"
She felt his cockhead pressed against her burning hole, then
cried out in pleasure as he thrust into her. He gripped her hips
and...the word that occurred to her instantly was...mounted her. He
mounted her.
That word made her body burn with feverish pleasure, and she
humped back desperately, panting for breath as the heat overwhelmed
her senses.
"Fuck me, Master! Fuck me hard!"
"I'm gonna give you a good ride, slut!" he growled, ramming
his cock down her fuck-pipe with brutal force, hammering his hips
into her tight ass cheeks as she groaned and whimpered and grunted
in heat. His hands roamed up and down her body, squeezing and
fondling her swinging breasts, then gripping her shoulders and
jerking her back into his thrusts.
He gripped her leash then and tugged it back, forcing her head
up and back. He jerked her back by it, slapping her bare ass cheeks
as he rutted into her.
"Yeah! Yeah! Fuck! Take it! Take my cock! Fucking slut!
Fucking whore! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!"
"Fuck meee! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she gasped.
She felt like an animal, like a bitch in heat, or a filly
being mounted, being ridden by its mate. She gurgled in lust and
heat and excitement as she felt his stiff boner spiking up into her
belly again and again, glorying in the lewd, carnal romp.
She was on the verge of coming, and hammered her ass back
against him, even though the impact was almost painful. She impaled
herself on his pumping staff, grunting in bliss with each deep
penetration.
And came, thrashing her head wildly as she gurgled in
pleasure, whining and moaning and mewling in delight as the fires
of ecstasy bathed her shuddering flesh.
"Ohhh! OhhH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OHOOOOhhhhhhh!"
His jism spewed out of his bulging cock and gushed down into
her sucking hot furnace of a cunt, pouring into her as he dug his
fingers into her flanks and cursed in pleasure.
Afterwards, after they had recovered, and he had dressed, he
turned her onto her belly. He removed her leash, then clipped her
wrists together behind her back. Then, to her surprise, she brought
her ankles back sharply and clipped them together, linking them to
her wrists somehow.
It was very uncomfortable, but he let her turn onto her side,
and that wasn't too bad. He left her on the rug, but was kind
enough to turn on the TV for her to watch while he finished making
dinner. She knew he wasn't finished with sex, and her pussy knew it
too.
After ten minutes or so he came and got her, unlinking her
ankle restraints and pulling her to her feet. He led her into the
kitchen, but instead of having her sit on his lap he made her kneel
beside his chair. Then he sat down and began eating dinner himself.
She was a bit confused at first, and also hungry, but then he
turned with a piece of meat in his hand and held his hand before
her mouth. She took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, then,
trembling only a little, she licked the piece of meat out of his
hand.
That was the way the meal went. Every second or third piece he
cut he would pick up and hold out to her, sometimes in his fingers,
something in the palm of his hand, and she would lick it off and
eat it. All the while she was doing it she felt intensely erotic,
and the thought ran through her head again and again, of what her
friends, family, co-workers would think if they could only see her
now.
He had milk afterwards, and so did she, except hers was in a
bowl he placed on the floor, and she had to lean in and lick and
suck it out.
After dinner he unlinked her wrist restraints so she could
clean the dishes. When she had finished them she walked out to the
living room. He pulled her over his lap, then turned her belly down
and caressed her ass cheeks.
"Have I ever told you what a gorgeous ass you have, Rover?"
"Yes, Master," she sighed.
"It really is gorgeous. It's a pity everyone else couldn't see
your gorgeous ass, don't you think?"
"Yes, Master."
"Come on, you can watch a movie with me. Oh, wait, I think you
can watch it better from over here."
He had her get up, then led her to the low hanging beam that
separated the living and dining rooms, well, that gave them an
illusion of separateness. She saw for the first time that he had
driven to round rings into them about three feet apart.
She also saw that he had chains on the nearby table.
He stood on a chair to hang the chains on the rings, then got
down and placed her directly under them. Her heart was pounding,
and she offered no resistance as he lifted her right hand high, and
linked the wrist restraint to one of the chains.
Then he moved over and lifted her other hand high. It wouldn't
reach the other chain, though, and she thought for a moment he had
miscalculated, but he actually lifted her body up, one hand around
her waist, the other on her wrist, and linked her wrist restraint
to the hook at the end of the other chain.
Then he let her go, and she found that she was hanging from
the chains, that her feet dangled inches above the floor. All her
weight came down on her wrists and arms and shoulders, and it took
her a few moments to adjust to that.
Her wrists didn't hurt at all, but her arms felt strained, and
her shoulders ached. She knew she must look amazingly erotic,
though, and the very idea of hangin from the wrists was almost too
much for her. She started rubbing her thighs together around her
steaming snatch to bring herself off.
"Stop that,"he ordered. "I don't want you jerking yourself off
unless I tell you to."
"Ye...ye...esss, Ma...master," she panted.
"Jesus, you look hot," he said.
He rolled the TV over, then got the camcorder and plugged it
in. She watched as she appeared on the TV. Her eyes widened as she
saw herself.
"Oh Christ! Fuck me, Paul! Oh God, I look so..."
"Yeah, like a real little slut. Like my sex slave."
He stroked her body, then slid his hand between her legs and
started stroking her clitty with rapid movements. She grunted and
moaned and tried to hump against him. That he was jerking her off
was just one more astonishingly wicked things that made her mind
one mass of sexual heat.
Then she came, grunting and moaning and shaking in the chains
as the heat flooded her body. The fireworks blasted her thinking
processes to pieces, and had her dancing in mid-air for long
seconds before she went limp.
He pulled over a chair and sat down beside her as he turned on
the movie he'd spoke of. It was a porn movie, and it involved
bondage and sadism. She watched, her attention distracted from her
sore shoulders by the action on the screen.
She saw woman after woman chained, roped, raped, beaten,
whipped, caned. One of the most exciting scenes was when the woman
was hung from her wrists, and a man whipped her.
She wanted a man to whip her. Well, actually she didn't, for
she was certain it would be intensely painful, but the fantasy of
a man whipping her as she hung there made her cunt boil again.
"You like that, slut?" Paul said, casually reaching a hand up,
as he had on several occasions, to stroke her ass cheeks or pussy.
"You want me to get a whip and whip you?"
"It looks so...exciting," she panted.
"Bet it hurts like hell, too."
"Ohhhh!" she gasped, as his fingers slid up her pussy.
Another scene came on, and he pulled his fingers away, much to
her disappointment. On the TV a woman was bent over a desk and was
caned. She heard the hiss of the cane, and watched as it cracked
down on her firm white ass cheeks, and licked her lips in
excitement.
They watched as the caning ended, and the woman's tormenter
roughly sodomized her.
"You're a dirty girl to get off on this, aren't you?" he said,
smacking her ass.
"Yes, Master," she gasped.
He got up and pushed the chair away, then stood there beside
her, running his left hand up and down her belly and over her
breasts, and squeezing and kneading her ass cheeks with his right.
"You think I should cane your ass, Rover?" he growled,
slapping her ass hard. She yelped, but didn't answer. He continued
to knead her ass cheeks, his left hand sliding down between her
thighs and stroking her pussy.
"Are you a bad girl, Rover?" he demanded, cracking his hand on
her ass again.
Again she yelped in pain, but said nothing, moaning at the
sexual heat radiating upwards from her pussy pit.
His hand cracked on her ass again, then he stroked and squeezed her
soft meat. Again he slapped it, harder this time, and she gasped in
pain, her ass jerking forward.
"Dirty slut," he said. "I think you need to be punished. Don't
you?"
She was grinding her pelvis into his fingers when he stopped.
"Noo," she gulped.
He slapped her ass with his hand and she yelped.
"I think you need to be punished, slut."
"N...Nooo," she gasped, her body glowing with heat. His
hand cracked against her ass again and she cried out in pain, then
his fingers slid into her soft pussy meat and he began to rub her
clitty with his thumb. She shuddered and arched her back. Then he
rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger and she whined and
moaned like a bitch in heat.
"Bad girl," he said, taking his fingers out, then slapping her
ass.
He went to the VCR and removed the tape, then inserted another
and pressed play. He moved back to her and went behind her, his
right hand sliding between her legs and stroking her pussy.
The TV lit up with images of her. She'd only seen the pictures
he'd taken of her in bed, not these. Now she stared at herself as
she knelt, tightly bound in lengths of rope, watched as she rubbed
her pussy on the rope, as she ground her loins back instinctively,
then fell to her side, grunting and straining and grinding her hips
as an orgasm ripped through her.
"Slutty girl," he said, slapping her ass hard.
She cried out in pain, but couldn't take her eyes from the TV.
She saw him shove the vibrator up her snatch, then saw her sucking
him, watched as he forced his cock right down her throat.
He stroked her clitty then slapped her ass again, and again
she yelped, but her voice was strained, dazed.
"Slut," he said.
On the TV she saw him untie her, saw her laying on her side,
griping her crotch, saw him push her onto her back, saw herself
pumping the vibrator up and down in her pussy as she moaned and
writhed in orgasmic ecstasy.
"Oh fuck!" she gasped, stunned by the burning eroticism of her
own actions.
"What kind of a woman jerks off with a vibrator while someone
watches?" he growled into her ear. "What kind of a woman does it in
front of a camcorder? Only a real nympho slut would do that!"
He slapped her ass, then again, then again, and she cried out
each time, but the pain, as sharp as it was, only raised her heat
higher, and she ground her thighs together helplessly as she
watched the TV.
And even as the tape ended she continued, crying out in pain
and pleasure each time he slapped her ass. He gripped her hair
then and forced her head up and back.
"Are you a slut?"
"Yesssss! I'm a slut! I'm a slut!"
"You need to be punished, don't you, slut?"
"Yesss! Punish me! Punish me, Master!"
His hand slapped down hard against her ass and she cried out
in pain. Her legs bounced and shook and her thighs slapped
together, and the sex-heat was still there, still growing. She was
torn between the heat in her crotch and the heat of her ass. Then
they seemed to combine, and she came, thrashing and shaking wildly
as he fingered her slit and slapped her ass.
He rammed three fingers up her snatch, grinding his knuckles
against her taut pussy lips as he mashed his thumb against her
clitty. He continued to crack his hand against her ass cheeks as
she jerked and writhed and bounced in mindless bliss.
Her ass was red when he stopped slapping it, but he didn't
move away. He moved in front of the now limp, groaning woman and
dropped to his knees. He gripped her ankles and pulled them apart.
There were rings set into the floor, and he chained her ankles well
apart.
Then he knelt in front of her, peeled her cunt lips open, and
began licking and sucking on her clitty and cunt meat. It was only
a few minutes before she began to hump against him.
"Oh, Jesus, Paul," she said, her voice breaking with emotion
and passion. "What are you doing to meeeee?"
He stood up and moved behind her, then dropped his sweatpants.
He rubbed his bulging tool against her asshole, then slowly worked
it into her, burying it deep in her guts. He ground his pelvis into
her tight ass cheeks as his hands squeezed and mashed her breasts.
Then he began to stroke, sliding his cock steadily up and down
her ass tube. His left hand continued to grope and knead her tit
meat, as his right slid down her heaving chest and belly and his
fingers found their way into her slit. He stroked and fingered her
clitty as he fucked her helpless asshole, and she whimpered and
sobbed in delirious pleasure.
Her head dropped back onto his shoulder as he drove his cock
up into her, but she humped against him, driving her asshole back
onto his cock as he frigged her clit bud. She grunted repeatedly,
continuously, her eyes closed, mouth slack, forehead beaded in
sweat.
"Slut," he growled into her ear. "Whore! Fuck-machine!"
She whimpered and moaned and then, as he pounded his cock
higher and harder and faster, came, came with a sob of exhausted
pleasure, her guts torn and chest straining as her muscles snapped
and jerked and her nervous system overloaded.
"Fucking whore! Fucking whore!" he cursed as he rodded his
cock up her ass. "Cunt! Slut! Slave! Bitch dog!"
He bit down on the nape of her neck as he rammed his cock up
into her asshole and blasted his sperm out into her. She bounced
and shook and went limp again, groaning weakly.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sorry, no requests for reposts, missing parts, GIFs, FTP sites, etc. can be
honored. If you find getting stories from this newsgroup inconvenient, the
archive is available on disk. Send a blank email to
adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com for more information. Authors wishing to
have files added to or removed from the THC Public archive should contact
me at: tommy@tommys.spydernet.com. Please refer comments to
alt.sex.stories.d or to e-mail. Thank you.
-=( Tommy )=-
From adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com Wed Apr 23 13:27:52 1997
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From: adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Mad About You Pt 7 [mf/bond-cons]
Date: 23 Apr 1997 13:27:52 -0400
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The THC Adult Text Archive: MADYOU7.TXT (445 lines)
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==========================================================================
Mad About You - 7 [mf/consensual bondage]
WARNING!
The following story contains scenes of graphic sex and bondage.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
As she hung there gasping for breath, Paul pulled his
softening cock out of her ass and moved away. He returned a minute
later and slid a chain of sorts around her belly. It wasn't very
tight, and she paid it little attention.
But then he pressed something hard against her asshole, and it
wasn't his cock. Since her anal muscles had yet to recover from his
hard pounding cock he was able to force the thing up inside her
with little difficulty. She heard a flick, then felt a buzzing
vibration inside her gut.
She raised her head at last and tried to look around, but
couldn't see what he was doing.
"Paaaulll?" she panted.
He moved around in front of her and she saw that he had a
second vibrator. He grinned at her, then sawed it back and forth
along her pussy slit, and slowly forced it up her twat. She groaned
and looked down, watching as he thrust it up inside her to the
base.
Then, to her surprise, she saw him take a very small, thin
chain, one she hadn't noticed before, which was attached to the
chain around her waist, and pull it between her legs. He attached
it in some way to the base of the vibrator, then stood back.
She realized then that there was a similar little chain going
down the crack of her ass and attached to the vibrator there. It
was obvious that their purpose was to stop either vibrator from
slipping out.
She didn't really care, though, for the buzzings of two
vibrators up in her lower belly was making her twist and writhe in
pleasure. Paul smiled and moved back. He positioned the chair he'd
been sitting in so he was sitting about six feet in front of her,
then brought the camcorder and tripod over and focused it on her,
watching and recording as she jerked and shook and came again.
Then he turned around and turned on the TV. He sat back in his
chair, tuning her out as he watched sitcoms. Every now and then
he'd hear rapid panting and groaning and passionate moans of
pleasure, hear the clinking and shaking of chains, and sometimes
her begging and whining for attention. At one point he heard a
clattering noise and turned to see her thrashing her head furiously
back and forth. She'd shaken her head so hard her glasses had been
tossed off.
He mostly ignored her, though, except during commercials. Then
he'd go over and finger her clitty, suck on her nipples, and grope
her breasts...until the commercial ended, of course.
Then he went back to the TV.
He left her up there for a couple of hours, but though she
begged him to fuck her, or suck her or jerk her off, she never
begged to be freed.
Jamie was caught in a blistering sexual firestorm. She threw
her head back, screaming almost soundlessly as she arched her back
again and again. She was intoxicated on the pleasure and sexual
heat, on the carnal eroticism of her bondage. She pulled repeatedly
against the chains binding her ankles, straining and twisting in
the joyous grip of total gratification.
She came repeatedly, her muscles spasming, convulsions
wracking her exhausted body until she hadn't the strength left to
do more than twitch and shake and tremble. She tried, at first, to
count them, but lost track, unable to focus her mind, to collect
the shattered pieces of her mind together between orgasms.
By the time he let her down she was limp, and utterly drained,
coated in sweat, her eyes glassy, her legs and feet twitching
helplessly. He removed the vibrators and chains, then clipped her
wrist restraints together behind her back. He clipped her ankle
restraints together as well, then carried her into the waiting tub
and setting her in the water.
They had a sunken tub, and he left her to soak in it for
twenty minutes or so, then returned and pulled her out of the
water, sitting her on the edge. He soaped her up all over,
slathering layer upon layer of soap over her breasts, and crotch
especially, but also over her shoulders and back and arms and legs
and ass.
He pulled her back into the water...he was naked himself by
then, but without letting her ass down turned her around and bent
her across the side of the tub. He stroked her soapy ass and
crotch, then placed his cock against her cunt cleft and sank it in
to the balls.
She groaned weakly, but didn't react otherwise as he began to
slowly pump his cock up her fuck tunnel. He fucked her steadily for
about five minutes, then pulled free and pressed his cock against
her asshole instead. Again she groaned, and rolled her head from
side to side, but he easily buried his cock and once again pumped
inside her for long minutes.
He came, then sank back into the water, sighing happily. Jamie
remained where she was, too emotionally and physically drained to
move. After a minute he got up and turned her over so she was
sitting on the edge again, and unclipped her ankle restraints.
He pushed her back and spread her legs wide, then reached over
to a small box next to the tub and took out her razor. He began
shaving carefully away at her pussy hair, sliding easily on the
thick layer of soap. At first he cut it away in thick masses, but
after a few minutes only small whiskers came free.
He took his time, sliding his fingers up her pussy to position
her muff properly, sawing away along the edges of her slit, then
lifting her then down her buttocks. He pulled her down into the
water again, and rubbed his hand over her snatch, then searched out
every single hair remaining and rubbed away at it until it was
gone, until her pubic area was as hairless as a baby's backside,
and as soft and smooth as silk.
He realized at this point that Jamie had fallen asleep, which
he found more than a little amusing. He rinsed the soap off her
body, then picked her up and lifted her out of the tub, carrying
her to a chair.
He sat her down and pulled a towel around her, drying off her
hair, then her body. She was still damp, though, when he carried
her into the bedroom and put her to bed. He clipped her ankle
restraints together, then found her leash, and locked it to the
headpost of the bed before going back to the living room and
watching some more TV.
When he returned an hour later she was still asleep. He got
into bed beside her and fell asleep.
When Jamie woke up it was light outside. She was laying on her
side. She groaned and turned over onto her back, then discovered
her wrists wouldn't come out from behind her. She looked around for
Paul but he wasn't there. She found her ankles locked, and when she
tried to sit up found she was chained to the bed.
She fell back onto the bed and groaned tiredly. Every nerve
and muscle in her body ached. She wanted nothing so much as to lay
back and fall asleep. So she did.
She woke up again and yawned. Her body still ached, but she
knew she had to get up. She looked around for Paul but there was
still no sign of him. She slowly turned her head and looked at the
clock, then cursed. She was supposed to have wakened up an hour ago
to get ready for work.
"Paul! Paul!" she yelled. "Paaaulll!"
She pushed herself back against the headboard and managed to
sit up.
"What is it?" Paul asked, frowning as he came into the
bedroom.
"Christ, Paul! I'm going to be late for work!" she moaned.
"No, you're not. I called them and told them you were sick."
"What?"
"Happy holidays! I took today off too."
"Paul. I can't just take today off!"
"Sure you can. You've already done it. That's what sick leave
is for."
"Sick leave isn't for this," she said with a snort. "Unhook
me, will you? I can't believe you let me sleep all night like this.
I'm so sore I can hardly move."
"That's not from the way you slept, it's from what you did
before you slept."
She blushed a little, then smiled in remembrance.
"I got most of it on tape, too."
"Oohhh, Paaull," she moaned. "Would you please stop taping me
like that?"
"Nope. In fact, one of the things I'm gonna do today is to
edit the tapes of you. There's this place you can send amateur
tapes, and they'll distribute them around the country."
"Excuse me?" she stared.
"Yeah, remember that video we got last month with the
amateurs? We just made one too. I'll send it in and..."
"Forget it!"
"Come on. Think of all those thousands and thousands of people
seeing you jerking off with the vibrator, or watching me pounding
my cock down your ass and throat."
"Are you crazy, Paul?"
"Nope," he grinned.
"You are not to show those tapes to anyone! Anyone!"
"Why not?"
"Why not? You have to ask?!"
"It'll be kind of a turn-on, won't it?"
"No! You think I want anyone seeing me like that!? Let me the
fuck out of this!"
He unclipped her leash from the back of the bed, then sat down
beside her and pulled her legs over his lap. He put his arm around
her waist and slid his hand up and down her body.
"Paul! Untie me!"
"Remember how you looked in the tape? Remember how erotic, how
gorgeous you were, how it turned you on, made you come just to
watch? Can't you imagine all those other couples out there watching
you like that, the men getting hard-ons, the women's pussies
getting wet?"
"You're crazy!" she gasped, shaking her head.
"You don't find that idea exciting?"
"People would see me!"
"That's the idea."
"I mean people who knew me! My God, when I think of what
they'd think of me if they saw that tape..."
"Oh, it's not very likely your friends would see you."
"I'm not taking the chance! Besides, I don't want to be
walking down the street and have some guy see me and remember
watching me...masturbating with a vibrator!"
"It'll add spice to life," he grinned.
"You are not sending that tape to anyone!"
"Okay, okay. Maybe I'll just let your brothers see it? Will
that be okay?"
"You pervert!"
He grinned and rubbed her pussy, and her face took on a
confused look as she looked down.
"What the..."
He removed his hand and she stared at her crotch in shock.
"What the fuck did you do!?" she cried.
"Doesn't this feel nice?"he smiled, rubbing his hand over her
bald pussy mound.
"Holy fuck! When did you do that?"
"After I took you down from the chains. Well, actually, it was
after I butt-fucked you."
"You're disgusting!"
"You weren't saying that when I was pumping your ass. You were
groaning and moaning and begging for more."
He gripped her hair and pulled it gently backwards, forcing
her back to arch, then pushed his fingers between her pussy lips
and began rubbing her clitty.
"How long you think it'll take me to jerk you off?" he
grinned.
"Paaaulll!" she groaned. "Dooon't! I...I have to...get...to
woooork!"
"I don't think so,"he grinned, sliding two fingers up into her
fuck tunnel. "I think it's another day as a sex toy for you, slutty
girl, another day of lewd, filthy debauchery and lust.
"Paaauulll."
It took two minutes to make her come, then he led her off the
bed, unclipping her ankle restraints so she could walk. He led her,
holding her leash, into the kitchen and pulled out one of the
chairs. She stared at it, then up at him.
"Sit," he said.
The chair was wooden, and had a big black dildo sticking up
out of the center. The rubber toy apparently had a suction cup on
the base which attached it firmly to the chair.
"Paaull," she protested.
"Sit, slut."
She straddled the chair, and eased her pussy against the nose
of the dildo, then slowly slid her hot, puffy cunt box down its
length, groaning as it pushed high into her belly.
He wouldn't unlock her wrists, and carefully fed her piece by
piece until she was done.
"I gotta go out for just a little bit," he said.
"Not more sex toys?" she stared.
"Maybe," he grinned.
He had her sit up, sliding her pussy off the dildo. He felt
the dildo before leading her away and nodded in satisfaction at how
warm and moist it was.
He walked her over beneath the hooks, and she saw a really
long length of chain running through one of the rings.
"You're not gonna hang me by my wrists again are you?" she
said. "My shoulders and arms feel like they're already about to
drop off."
"I'll be nice. I won't hang you by the wrists. Sit down."
He sat her on the floor, then squatted next to her and locked
her ankle restraints together. He locked one end of the chain to
them, then stood up and pulled on the other end of the chain,
drawing it tight. He started to pull slowly then, and the chain
pulled up on Jamie's ankles, lifting them, then her legs, then her
ass off the floor.
"Paul!"
He continued to pull, and she slid along the floor until she
was directly under the ring. It raised her ass up, then her back.
Her shoulders slid a little further, then they pulled off the
floor, and then her head left it as well. He pulled her up higher,
until her feet were almost touching the roof, then locked the end
of the chain off on a hook set into the wall.
"See you later," he said cheerfully.
"Paaaull! Don't you dare leave me here like this!" she cried,
swinging from side to side.
"Oh, of course. I forgot," he said.
He went to the table and picked up the two vibrators, both
with fresh batteries, then moved behind her. He rubbed lubricating
oil on each then stood over her and pressed them against her pussy
and asshole.
"Paul! No!"
"Jamie! Yes!"
"Don't! Let me down!"
Instead he slowly worked the two vibrators down into her cunt
slit and asshole, shoving deep, slapping on the bases of the dildos
until they were flush with her body. Then he gave her ass a slap
and left.
Jamie writhed briefly, then went limp, hoping that would stop
her from swinging and swaying. Her head felt full, with the
pressure in it growing rapidly. Soon it ached, and her entire body
felt funny.
She wondered how long Paul would be gone. Surely he wouldn't
leave her like this for long? Probably he was just going for papers
or something. She looked down at the floor a couple of feet below,
then, with some effort, raised her head and looked up the length of
her body.
Her breasts looked strange. In fact, the whole place looked
strange. Upside down was not her normal perspective.
She pulled at the wrist restraints, but after a few minutes
gave that up as hopeless. She decided there was nothing to do but
relax and...and...enjoy herself.
Except she didn't want to enjoy herself. The long series of
orgasms she'd had yesterday while hanging by her wrists was
exciting...but...it was also an ordeal. the orgasms reached a point
where her guts ached and her body felt like it was shaking apart,
where she thought that the next one would surely kill her.
She didn't want orgasm after orgasm. She
wanted...wanted...what?
She wasn't sure what she wanted. Nor was she able to think
very straight the way her head ached and throbbed, and the way the
vibrators were purring away inside her guts. She tried to fight her
body, tried to control its responses. She wanted to be as rational
and balanced as possible when Paul returned.
Unfortunately, the more time passed the harder that became.
Her hips kept shaking, humping, grinding, all by themselves, and it
became harder and harder to stop it, to keep herself still. Soon
her will began to seep away. Her pussy was hot and tingling, and
her breasts were swollen and tender.
She gave herself to the pleasure, grunting and humping,
twisting and shaking on the end of the chain as her body erupted in
rippling spasms of pleasure. When she came she bounced and jerked
like a fish on the end of a hook, and all her thoughts and cares
disappeared into the maw of a devouring sexual storm.
It wasn't her last come either. She lost track of them, and
lost track of time. When Paul returned she didn't even notice him.
He got out the camcorder and taped her for a little while, then
stripped and stood in front of her. He pulled her head up, mashing
her face into his crotch, then fed his cock to her.
She sucked mindlessly, mewling and moaning around his boner as
he pumped it slowly in her mouth. He turned her body sideways so he
wasn't blocking the camera, and placed his hands to get the best
picture. After a couple of minutes of sucking he pulled his cock
out and let her head fall, then pressed himself between her breasts
and crushed them together against it.
He fucked his cock slowly into her cleavage, digging his
fingers into the soft, sensitive meat as he mashed it together. He
felt his balls getting ready to blow, and fucked harder and harder,
then groaned in pleasure as his juices spewed out over her tits and
dribbled down onto her face.
He gripped her thick hair and rubbed his cock dry with it,
then put it back in his pants. He plucked the vibrators out of her,
then let her back down to the floor. She lay there dazed and
moaning for long minutes as he unwrapped some of the things he'd
purchased.
"Had a nice time baby?" he asked as he squatted next to her.
"Baasstaard," she groaned.
"Yeah, maybe. I think maybe you want a bastard sometimes,
though. Come on. Can you stand yet? I got you something nice to
wear."
He unclipped her ankle restraints, then took a key out of his
pocket and removed the padlocks. He opened the leather restraints
and took them off, then did the same with her wrist restraints.
She sat up with a groan, rubbing her wrists, then her ankles.
She ran a hand through her mass of tangled hair, then glowered at
him.
"I didn't say I wanted to be a fucking sex toy all day every
day," she complained.
"Course not."
She gave him a scowl and he grinned and ruffled her messy
hair.
"You had a uh, tiring evening last night."
"Right," she snorted.
"So I thought it'd be nice for us to stay home today
and...recover."
"This is recovering?"
"Well, I figured we didn't have to recover just yet. We can
recover later."
"I want to take a shower," she groaned.
"Not a bath?"
"Whichever I take it'll be alone."
She pulled herself to her feet and staggered into the bedroom,
then went through it to the bathroom. She decided that a relaxing
bath was exactly what she wanted, so filled the tub with bubbles
and the hottest water she could stand, and slipped in.
She basked in the heat, laying her head back with a groan and
relaxing. Paul brought her an iced tea, then left her alone.
"Let me know when you're finished," he said.
She figured he'd bought her some more sexy lingerie and wanted
to see her in it, but she didn't mind that. Just so long as he
didn't' make her shake her teeth out again for a few hours.
She washed herself, then her hair, then rinsed off and climbed
out of the tub. She was gleaming wet and naked, and stared at
herself in the mirror as she stood there, pushing her hair straight
back from her forehead. She posed in different positions, hands
behind her head, facing the mirror, turning from it, bending over.
She grinned at herself, and at her full, trim body.
Then she grabbed a towel and dried herself, picked up the
brush, and carefully blow dried her hair, taking her time. She
brushed it into shimmering silk, then finally opened the door and
walked out. She grabbed a robe, then hesitated. Why bother? Anyway,
Paul had something he wanted her to wear.
"Paaull?" she called.
"Coming."
He grinned as he walked into the room, his eyes moving
instantly up and down her body with obvious appreciation. Jamie
straightened her back and gave him a sexy smile as he carried a
small black box over to the dresser and set it down.
"Okay, pervert, what've you got now?" she snorted.
"Hey, you watch your tongue, missy, or you're gonna get a
spanking."
He took out a small mass of black lace, then ordered her to
lift her leg. He held it out and she saw a Y-shaped garment that
looked about as large as a six year old child's bathing suit. She
lifted her leg and he stepped into it, then lifted her other leg.
He pulled it up her body, and helped her pull the thing over her
shoulders, then turned her to view herself in the mirror.
The thing was almost entirely see-through. The lower part,
from crotch to belly, was perhaps two inches wide. It split at her
belly, split in two, with two narrow strips of black lace going up
across her breasts. These strips too were only a couple of inches
wide, and though they pulled tight across her breasts, they didn't
cover much more than her nipples. Cover, of course, wasn't really
the right word since they were see-through. As for the back, it
pulled up tight between her buttocks and didn't cover much of them
either.
"Just the kind of thing to wear when visitors are coming
over," she said sarcastically.
"That depends on the visitors," he leered, sliding his hand up and
down her ass. "If I invited a couple of guys over to enjoy my
pretty little fuck-toy I'd say this is exactly what you'd be
wearing.
She turned and stared at him in surprise, then let him turn
her around as he reached back into the box.
The next thing he brought out was not soft lace but hard
metal. It was a kind of gold plated metal bracelet about an inch
wide. It parted in the middle, and had, she saw, a little keyhole,
and a round ring. He snapped it over her wrist and when she pulled
at it with her other hand it wouldn't come off.
"There's a bracelet you ain't gonna lose," he laughed.
"Paul, you're not gonna hang me up and leave me alone again
are you?"
"I hadn't planned to, though you seem to find your own
amusements when I do."
"Ha, ha," she said, a little annoyed, a little amused.
He took out another metal bracelet, identical to the first,
and locked it around her other wrist, then took out two more. These
were almost identical, but were a bit heavier and a bit thicker. He
locked these around her ankles. Then, finally, or so she thought,
he drew out a collar made of the same metal. It was about two
inches wide, and fit loosely around her throat, though not so lose
it could get off over her head.
But then he reached into the box again and brought out a
length of chain. Actually, it was several lengths of chain, and it
was gold plated like the bracelets and collar.
He snapped a short one...about six inches long...to her two
wrist restraints, locking her wrists together in front of her. Then
he took another one, this only a couple of inches longer, and
locked them to her ankle restraints, or shackles as he called them.
A much longer chain, he managed to attach to the other two, locking
it to the middle of the chain between her wrists, and the middle of
the chain between her ankles. It was loose enough that she could
raise her hands as far as her lower chest, but no further.
Not unless she got down on her knees anyway.
Which she had a feeling she'd be doing soon.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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-=( Tommy )=-
From adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com Wed Apr 23 13:27:53 1997
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From: adultarc@tommys.spydernet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story: Mad About You Pt 8 [mf/bond-cons]
Date: 23 Apr 1997 13:27:53 -0400
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The THC Adult Text Archive: MADYOU8.TXT (481 lines)
Please do not allow anyone under 18 to read the contents of this message.
Note: I did not write any of these stories. They are being posted from the
archive as a public service only - any copyrights belong to the authors.
See the footer for important information.
==========================================================================
Mad About You - 8 [mf/consensual bondage]
WARNING!
The following story contains scenes of graphic sex and bondage.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
Jamie had been getting hotter and hotter since she'd donned
the slutty black lace thing. The shackles, actual metal shackles,
were incredibly erotic to her way of thinking, and chains were even
more so. She turned around and around, staring at herself in the
mirror, moving her hands just to feel the weight of the chains and
make them clank.
"Wow," she breathed.
"Hot looking little slave girl, aren't you," he breathed,
sliding his hand up and down her belly.
"Yeah."
"And who's your master?"
"You are, Master," she sighed.
"A true little slut."
"Yeah. I'm a slut. I'm a cock hungry little whore," she
gulped, turning to see herself from behind.
"And you'll obey your lord and master, won't you? Otherwise
it's to the dungeon for you."
He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, though not too
roughly, and bit down on the front of her exposed throat. She
groaned in pleasure, especially after raising her hands, and
finding they wouldn't go that high.
"This is all the clothes a slut like you needs, baby," he
said, gripping her arm and giving her a kind of shove towards the
door.
And for the rest of the day that was pretty much it. He
treated her not much different than normally, except for more
groping and more stroking and caressing, and a lot more dirty
talking. She did some work on a file she'd brought home the
previous night, she did some cooking and cleaning, and she and Paul
watched TV, read books or papers, and talked about politics or
gossiped about friends.
But she did it mostly naked, and in the chains.
There was two other differences, one, she was kind of horny
all day, and two, whenever she disagreed with him, or he caught her
trying to stroke her pussy, Paul would give her a slap on the ass,
or the hip, or once on the breast.
Also, several times, once when she was washing the dishes,
once when she was changing the bed linen, and once when they were
watching TV, he slid his hand in between her legs and began to jerk
her off, plunging his warm fingers deep into her pussy hole and
stroking her clitty with his thumb. He would work on her until she
was panting and moaning, and her hips were humping and jerking,
then he would stop, and forbid her to touch herself.
Just being dressed...if you could call it dressed...like she
was, and wearing the shackles and chains made her pussy warm and
moist, and left her in an all day heat, but the rubbing and
fondling made her cunt boil with lust, and had it yearning for a
deep, hard, rough pounding cock. Even after she begged him to fuck
her, though, he wouldn't.
Once she was so horny she said the hell with him, and
continued to rub at her pussy after he stopped, ignoring him as he
slapped her ass several times. She was on the verge of coming when
he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away.
She cursed him, but he held her struggling body, then produced
another chain, this one that went snugly around her belly. It had
a ring in the middle, and he attached her wrist shackles to it so
she couldn't move them more than a few inches up or down. She was
thus no longer able to rub her pussy.
Then to make sure she didn't rub her thighs to a cum, which
she immediately tried to do, he got an ice cube and forced it up
her pussy. She snarled and cursed at him for that, but couldn't
reach her pussy with her fingers, and the discomfort eased her heat
enough that she couldn't bring herself off by rubbing her thighs
together alone.
As the day turned to evening he got worse, rubbing and groping
her more often, and using the ice to cool her down when she was too
hot. He got hard too, but wouldn't fuck her, even though she
begged. He wouldn't even fuck her ass, though she begged for that
too, thinking the hard pumping against her ass would make her come.
Instead he made her kneel and suck his cock, then had her deep
throat it. She did so, hoping against hope he would then use his
spit-wet cock to fuck or sodomize her. Instead he pulled it out of
her mouth and shoved it between her tits, crushing them together
around it as he humped into her again and again.
His sperm shot out over her breasts, and he directed some of
it up into her face and mouth, then bent her across the table, and
used the vibrator on her pussy until she was screwing her ass
around wildly, and humping back against it while yelping and
grunting in pleasure.
Then he popped an ice cube up her asshole, another up her
pussy hole, and rubbed a third up and down her slit, then over her
breasts and nipples.
She cursed him foully, and for that he turned her over his lap
and gave her a spanking. The spanking made her ass burn, and made
her squeal and curse and cry out in pain, but it didn't make her
come.
Immediately after that she straddled the arm of the sofa and
rubbed herself back and forth against it, heating up her super-
sensitive pussy once again, and bringing her so close to a come
that had he not grabbed her and rushed her into the bathroom, then
turned the shower on to cold and forced her into it, she would have
been surely riding an orgasmic whirlwind.
Instead she came out of the shower dripping, and freezing and
sulking.
He dried her, and brushed out her hair, drying that, then led
her back into the living room.
"I swear to God I'm gonna get you for this, Paul," she growled
as he shoved her along.
"If you really want a cock inside you you had better start
acting like it."
"What have I been acting like!?" she demanded in frustration.
"You haven't been acting like a good little slave."
"What do you want me to doooooo?" she moaned.
"Beg for it."
"I have!"
"Not really, not in the right tone. I want you meek and
submissive and desperate."
She got down on her knees and made he eyes wide and round.
"Please fuck me, Master," she begged. "Please fuck my slutty
little pussy crack! Please fuck your dirty slutty little slave,
Master! Please! Please!"
She rubbed her face against his thighs and crotch, much like
a cat, moaning and whining. He stepped back and grinned down at
her, and she felt a mixture of anger at him, and excitement at what
she was doing, at the degrading way she...Jamie Buchman, was
acting.
"Lick my feet," he said, pushing his bare foot out at her. She
immediately bent over and began to slide her tongue over it,
lapping steadily, then halting to look up at him with imploring
eyes.
"You know, I don't think I'm man enough to handle a girl as
slutty as you," he said. "Maybe I need some help."
She blinked her eyes in confusion.
"I know a guy who'd love to fuck you, baby. What do you say I
invite him over?"
"What?" she stared.
"He's one of the guys I play tennis with. He doesn't know any
of your friends either. He's got this huge cock that I bet your
pussy would love."
"You're serious!"
"Yeah," he grinned.
"Jesus Christ, Paul!"
"Why not? Wouldn't you love to suck my cock while a another
one else pounded up your pussy?"
"But...but...wouldn't you...care?"
"You love me, I love you, this guy would only be physical.
Hell, you don't even have to know his name if you don't want."
"You want me to let another guy fuck me?"
"I'd like to see it. I'd love to see how you'd fry another
guy's eyes, how you'd make his cock stick up in the air. You are so
incredibly erotic and sexy that I want to show you off like this."
"I...but I can't...I mean, Jesus, I couldn't let a stranger
see me like this!"
"You could. He's not gonna tell anyone you know."
"He'll think I'm a whore!"
"What do you care? Anyway, you are."
"I am not!" she glared.
"But you like acting like one, don't you."
"Well...yes but...I don't know...another guy...a stranger."
"Just think of the two of us getting you in a bed and fucking
you till you can't scream any more," he growled, sliding his hands
through her hair, then tugging it sharply to force her head back.
"Just think of two naked guys pounding their cocks into you."
She did think of it. His words were so graphic the images
sprang immediately to mind, and despite her fears and trepidations
her loins began to burn at the idea. She had thrown so many rules
out the window in the last week or so, had lusted after the rawness
and bondage, that she was tempted to agree, tempted to allow this
other man, this stranger, to come in and...and use her like a cheap
whore.
But she just couldn't bring herself to do it.
"No," she said.
"You're sure?" he said, pulling her up to her feet by the
hair, though not too roughly.
"Yes," she gasped, as he pulled her head back.
He stroked his hand over her breasts, then slid it down into
the front of the lacy crotch, rubbing at her bare pussy crack. He
slid his fingers inside and stroked her clitty, then pierced her
fuck tunnel and pumped in and out.
"Just think how you'd blow his mind," he breathed. "Just think
of how hard he'd get at the sight of you, at how excited. You'd be
something he'd remember forever, the hottest, wildest fuck he'd
ever had."
"Paaauulll," she moaned, humping against his fingers as the
images burned into her mind.
"Maybe I could bring over five guys," he taunted. "Or maybe
ten. They'd all stand around you naked, their cocks all hard and
throbbing. You'd be tied naked to the bed, and they'd fight to be
the first to climb on top of you."
She moaned, and humped harder against his fingers.
"They'd fuck you one at a time, at first, one after the other,
cock after cock, then they'd take you two at a time, one fucking
your pussy while the other fucked your mouth, then maybe one more
would fuck your ass, and another would tit-fuck you. Naked men
would be pumping their cocks at you from every direction. Their
hands would be all over you, groping and squeezing and rubbing and
touching you."
He had her bent way back, her legs spread wide as she moaned
and whined and humped against his hand.
"Gang banged," he growled. "Gang fucked, gang raped. You'd be
fucked seven ways from Sunday, cocks shooting off all over you,
pouring their sperm onto your tits and thighs and face."
"Paaaullll! Oh God! Oh God! Fuck me! Fuck me! Ooh pleeease!"
"Time to watch TV," he said, removing his hand and letting her
straighten up.
"NO! Fuck me! Paul! Fuck me, God damn you!"
"Not me. I've got a headache."
"Pleeeeasse!" she almost sobbed.
"I bet Sean would love to fuck you."
"All right! All right! Bring him over! If you're not man
enough bring over the whole fucking club! I'll take them all on!"
She said it in anger and defiance, but a thrill of shocking
pleasure ran up her spine when she did.
She expected him to argue, or to go to the phone. instead he
went to the door to the hall and opened it, then called to someone.
She had just enough time to realize that someone was going to come
in when a tall, broad shouldered blonde man came inside, and Paul
closed the door after him.
She stared at him in utter shock, then turned red in
embarrassment, gave a shocked yelp, turned, and ran into the
bedroom, only just barely hearing his gasp of lust and excitement.
Paul came after her, and slid his hand over her pussy,
squeezing and rubbing it as he told her how hot and erotic and
exciting she looked, then he led her back out into the living room.
She struggled to pull back but...but didn't struggle that hard for
some reason.
Then she stopped struggling as he led her out to where Sean
was standing. Again she turned beet red, and her eyes immediately
fell to the floor so she wouldn't have to face him.
"You were sure right, Paul," she heard. "She's one of the most
gorgeous babes I've ever seen. Talk about hot!"
"She's hotter than fire," Paul said with a note of pride.
"She's insatiable.
She gasped as he gripped her hair and forced her head up.
"See the chain around her belly? I had to chain her wrists to
that to keep her from jerking off."
Jamie felt a new rush of embarrassment. No, embarrassment
didn't quite describe it. It was more like humilation. Yet, as she
stared at the tall blonde man, and saw the heat and desire in his
eyes, saw the giant bulge in his pants, she remembered what Paul
had said, about how she was so hot that she'd make men crazy with
lust.
And she knew it was true, knew that the sight of her like this
was driving this man wild with lust. She felt her pussy beginning
to steam at that, even though she was still terribly, terribly
embarrassed.
Paul held her by the arm, and she saw that he too had a big
bulge in his pants, and the deep yearning in her loins burst forth
as she realized that she was going to finally get fucked, that she
was going to be allowed to come, going to be forced to come.
"Watch this," Paul said.
He slid his other hand between her legs as he held her arm,
and began to squeeze and rub her pussy through the thin lace.
Jamie couldn't help the lust that burned inside her, and the
sight of his face, the smile and excitement on it, and the lust in
Sean's eyes, made her defiant. Somehow the humilation turned to
excitement within her. She truly was a slut, she thought, a sultry,
sluttish tramp that men used for pleasure.
She hadn't so much as touched either of them, but these two
big strong handsome men were burning with lust for her, and both
wanted to drive their cocks into her moist depths and fuck her
brains out.
And then, helplessly at first, but then deliberately, she
began to hump against Paul's hand, began to revel in the
degradation of having another man watch her like this. And then
when Paul took his hand out of her crotch and offered Sean, and the
stranger put his hand there, she felt a flashing surge of heat.
She humped madly against his fingers, gasping for breath as
the heat blasted through her body. She could hardly stand up as she
spread her legs more and rubbed furiously, driving herself against
his fingers.
"On your knees, slut," Paul said, pushing her backwards.
"Spread your legs and show us what you've got."
She couldn't breath, couldn't think. She whirled and
practically fell down, then groaned as she laid her head on the
floor and raised her ass into the air.
"Fuck meeee!" she sobbed. "Fuck meeee!"
"Give it to her Sean," Paul said. "Pound the whore's cunt for
her!"
Jamie mewled in delirious heat as she felt Sean behind her, as
he ripped the back of her lacy lingerie apart and exposed her
sopping fuck crack. His hand squeezed her pussy and she arched her
back, trembling violently now, trying to suppress the grinding,
burning lust until he was inside her.
"Quick! Hurry! Oh hurry!" she begged.
She heard his zipper going down, then felt his hardness
against her cunt.
"Fuck me! Hurry! Put it in!" she cried, grinding her ass in
circles.
He pressed his cock against her crack and thrust hard, spiking
it up to the hilt in her body. He didn't hesitate for a second, but
gripped her hips tightly and began rodding his cock into her with
total abandon.
There was a stunning explosion of pleasure inside her, a
starburst of blinding ecstasy that screamed along her nervous
system and tore her mind to shreds. Jamie came and came and came,
the pleasure building past anything she'd ever felt before,
shrieking higher and higher and higher as Sean's cock pounded down
into her.
She tried to scream but couldn't breath. She was ripped by a
devastating orgasm that seemed to have no end. Her mind howled
insanely as her body spasmed and shook and bounced in animalistic
sexual delirium. The world winked out, for nothing existed but
pleasure and more pleasure.
Paul watched in excitement and fascination.It was so
incredibly strange to see another man fucking his wife that he
could hardly believe what he was seeing. He was gripped by feelings
of jealousy and protectiveness. He was supposed to stop some guy
from violently fucking Jamie, not stand there watching while he did
it.
Yet he also felt tremendous pride at being able to show off
this hot, gorgeous sexual creature he owned. Oh sure, his friends
might have met her and noted that she was beautiful, but that was
nothing like seeing her like this, naked and writhing in orgasmic
glee, begging for more, grunting and groaning and whining in
pleasure as her hot, tight cunt chewed on a big cock.
And then there was the excitement the excitement that was so
high and hot that he had to fight from coming in his pants. He
wanted to shove Sean out of the way and bury his burning cock in
Jamie's guts, not stand there and wait.
Fortunately he didn't have to wait long. Sean had been excited
at the sight of her, and riding this wild, gorgeous, woman through
a violent orgasm hadn't exactly left him capable of a long steady
fuck. His eyes were bulging out of his head as he struggled to keep
atop her, and even after, with a long, drawn out, shuddering moan
she'd went limp, he'd continued to hammer his cock up into her cunt
with blinding strokes, smacking his hips into her ass with enough
force to jerk her upwards off her knees a few times.
Then he came, cursing and gasping as he arched his back, his
cock pistoning inside Jamie as she moaned and sighed in pleasure.
And then Paul shoved him aside and tore his pants open. He
pressed his cock against her round asshole and thrust in violently.
She cried out, a brief yelp, and then a long groan escaped her as
his cock rammed down into her ass and he was growling as he raped
her asshole.
Sean stumbled to his feet, and went to the nearby video
camera, still on its tripod. He pulled it around and started
filming. Neither of them noticed or cared. Jamie had been stunned
nearly senseless by the force of the orgasm that had ripped through
her, and Paul was too horny, too hot, and too excited as he rammed
his cock up her asshole with as much force as Sean had used on her
pussy.
And then his seed burst out and flooded her asshole, and he
could finally release some of the pent up energy and frustration
he'd been holding in check.
It took all of them a few minutes to recover, needless to say.
By then Jamie had begun to feel embarrassed again, especially when
Paul ripped away the lacy lingerie and left her naked. She was
still excited, though, and when the two men had her sit on the sofa
between them, and then began to stroke and fondle her body, she
quickly began to fall into the sexual haze that had gripped her
earlier.
Then Paul had put on the TV, and Sean had watched the lewd and
carnal scenes he had taped over the weekend. Jamie was both deeply
embarrassed, and intensely excited by Sean seeing her like that.
The worst, though, was when he saw her pumping her pussy with the
vibrator.
Paul took the clips off her wrists, freeing the shackles so
she could move, then gave her a vibrator and sat her on a chair
facing the sofa, then told her to spread her legs and jerk off for
them live. The idea was so horribly embarrassing that for a long
moment she just froze.
But it was also so...wicked...so sluttish, and, well, they had
both seen her on the tape and...
And she really wasn't thinking straight.
She drew her knees up and back and, her hands trembling, she
turned on the vibrator, and rubbed the nose up and down along her
naked pussy slit. She felt how hot and moist she was, and forgot
her embarrassment as she fed the thing up into her snatch. She
fucked herself with it, pumping hard and deep to be dramatic, to
put on a really slutty show for them.
And when she came, she knew that, more than the vibrator, more
than her fingers, it was their presence, their watching that drove
her pleasure.
After that she was on her knees on the floor, and "forced" to
suck Sean off. Her shackles were locked behind her back as he held
her hair and "made" her suck him off, "made" her lick his balls and
take his cock down her throat.
Then Paul was beside him, and she had to take turns, sucking
one cock, then the other. Then both of them rubbed their spit-wet
cocks over her face. They put her on her side on the rug and forced
her upper leg high, painfully high and back, then, kneeling at her
crotch, Paul forced his cock up her pussy while Sean buried his in
her asshole.
They fucked her long and hard, and she came repeatedly, lost
in a world of sexual gratification and glassy eyed pleasure.
After they had both come inside her they took off the shackles
and put on the leather cuffs, then forced the vibrators up her
pussy and asshole again and hung her spreadeagled from the ceiling.
They called her obscene names, and suggested awful punishments for
her as she came again and again, their words stabbing into her mind
like fire and inciting her to greater and greater heights of
ecstasy.
Afterwards, dazed and exhausted, she crawled across the floor
on her belly, licking at their feet as she begged them to rape her
ass or fuck her throat. Sean sodomized her a final time, then went
home, and Paul carried her into the bathroom and washed her off.
Jamie had long vowed that she would find the time for a
holiday, but put it off time after time. That week she took her
holiday. She spent Monday night, sleeping exhaustedly, wrists
chained to her belly. The next day she spent entirely in chains,
and much of it on her knees, scrubbing floors with a brush, eating
her food off of plates and bowls on the floor, and saying the most
demeaning, obscene things about herself as Paul filmed her.
Sean came over that evening, and he joined Paul in fucking and
sodomizing her, and even spanked her ass once when she wouldn't
repeat his words about how she loved to fuck German shepherds and
dobermans.
That night, very late, Paul removed her chains, and instead
used leather shackles to lock her wrists behind her back. Then he
forced a leather ball-gag into her mouth, and, leading her by the
leash attached to her studded leather collar, took her out into the
hall.
She was terrified one of the neighbors would be looking out of
their peep holes, or would open the door as they passed, but none
did. She was also intensely aroused at being naked like this
outside, or, well, sort of outside.
He took her downstairs, using the stairs, and led her into the
dark garage. There he made her suck his cock, and deep throat it,
before bending her across the hood of a Porsche and fucking her in
the ass.
She spent the rest of the next day, Wednesday, in chains
again, Sean, and two other men she didn't know, Paul, and Jack,
came over. She was so incredibly hot at the four men being there
with her that she almost came before the first cock slid into her.
All evening long they fucked her, all of them taking her at least
twice.
Paul took her out of the apartment again late that night, and
down to the garage. He made her get into the trunk of his car, then
drove to a wooded area just outside town. He took her out of the
trunk, led her into the woods, then pressed her back against a
large tree, tied her hands up and back behind it, then lifted her
legs and fucked her long and hard.
Then he tied her legs back behind the trees, so she was
spreadeagled and her flesh was so tight against the bark it was
like she was part of the tree. He put a vibrator up her pussy, and
another up her asshole, then told her he'd see her in the morning
and drove off.
She was alone for long hours, coming and coming as her mind
was blown by gale force winds of sexual lust and heat. Paul didn't
leave her there till morning, having stuck around to watch just out
of her sight, and came back for her after an hour and a half,
putting her back in the trunk and taking her home.
That day, Thursday, he brought over twelve men, and Jamie was
fucked and fucked and fucked until she was almost drowning in come
juice. In fact, all of Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were like one
long party, where men crowded around her fondling and groping and
fucking her, and making obscene remarks about her body.
They watched TV, including the video tapes of her, and drank
beer, and talked, and meanwhile she crawled around them sucking
cocks and licking feet, and getting fucked and sodomized. She
jerked off for them as they watched, using vibrators in her pussy
and asshole, and coming with crazed abandon as they cheered.
Late Friday and Saturday nights Paul took her out of the
apartment again, only this time without the chains, and wearing a
sluttish skin tight, low-cut, very short hemmed dress. He took her
downtown and prostituted her, letting several men take her to a
nearby motel room and fuck her for money.
Afterwards, she remembered they were men who had been at the
all day parties, friends or acquaintances of his from the club, but
it was still desperately exciting and wicked.
Sunday she stayed in chains, but nobody came over. Paul fucked
her a few times, but it was mostly a day for her to relax.
Monday, wearing a mannish blue suit with a high-collared silk
shirt, her hair neatly brushed, she went to work, telling everyone
she had had the flu all last week, and behaving as close to normal
as she could. Every now and then as she worked, though, she would
think back to the wildly erotic week that had ended, and her hand
would go to her pussy to give it a squeeze.
It made the day go by faster, and she was looking forward to
getting rid of the clothes, and donning her chains that evening.
================================================================
T H E E N D
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-=( Tommy )=-