A Taste of Sarah

Sarah pushed the remains of her dinner aside and sat back exhausted. They had gone through the entire choreography of the new piece and the director had then decided that the most energetic of her sections needed work. She had repeated it a full ten times that afternoon until she was happy. She had just mustered enough energy to heat up left over lasagne when she got home, but now her tender body was adamantly refusing to do anything else. She sat there coaxing her body into a little more activity, and after a couple minutes of inaction, it relented enough for her to grab her wine and her laptop and heave herself onto the sofa. With remote in hand she turned on the radio and then let herself melt into the soft cushions as her laptop booted.

She had been browsing aimlessly on her computer for some time, when she found herself back on the dating site. She had joined it at the prompting of friends after months without a date. In fact, at the age of 25 Sarah's dating history was littered with false starts, and two frustrating, short lived relationships. It was clear that men desired her. Heads turned like a wave as she passed through a crowded dance floor. But the young men confident enough to pick her up were always, ultimately, disappointing

A sharp "ping" came from her laptop. An indignant cry for attention. She looked at the screen to find a new message flashing before her and her lips twitched into a smile as she read those beautifully simple lines of Yeats. She savoured the sound and rhythm of them in her head. Well that was certainly a more promising conversation starter then most she received and judging by his picture, her new suitor was breathtakingly handsome. She scanned his profile, her interest mounting. He was older than her but only by a couple of years, and he was a photographer. His profile eloquently captured his interests in music, literature and sport in a confident but modest way, yet there was a slight uneasiness to his profile she couldn't put her finger on. However, given the fluttering in her stomach Sarah mused, the uneasiness could well be due to nervous excitement on her part.

She replied and soon they were deep in conversation. A warm buzz of excitement started to run though her, gradually replenishing the energy in her spent muscles. It felt like he was in the room with her. She could almost see the abrupt changes of emotion in his deep eyes, flickers of thoughtfulness replaced in an instant by flashes of mischievousness as he covered his short moments of introspection with mirthfully cheekiness. This man was intriguing and he seemed genuinely interested in her, lapping up details of her work and interests.

They had been chatting for over an hour when she innocently asked about his other interests. Everything he told about himself drew her further and further in and she was keen to savour every detail of him. The response came up quickly "I write erotica". Instantly alarm bells started ringing. This site was full of creepy men who were after nothing but sex, but normally you could spot them within seconds of conversation. Rationality quickly reasserted itself. They had touched on all sorts of topics before they came on to this and he hadn't pushed the topic any further. She typed out an awkward reply.

Well that wasn't expected...

She wasn't sure what else to say, he had caught her slightly off guard, but as the seconds ticked by, it was clear that he didn't know what to say either. A slight pang of disappointment went over her, there was no harm in going a little further down those lines, no harm in fantasizing a little. The longer his silence went on the more curiosity tugged at her. After a moment's hesitation she probed further.

What sort of things do you write about?

Restraints had crept into her fantasies before, not in any detail, just simple rope loops fastening her wrists, but she couldn't help her curiosity growing as he typed. What did it feel like to give yourself up to some completely, to cast the stresses of modern life from your mind and let someone else control you. She caught herself leaning forward, drinking in his description of the roles. The warm tingle of arousal grew within her. What harm could there be in simply chatting, he wasn't there, he couldn't see her.

I'd love to read one of your stories

She leaned forward as a ream of text appeared on the screen. She was inexplicably nervous as she read, as if the act of reading itself was giving away too much of herself. But she liked him, really liked him, and if he turned out to only be interested in one thing then at least he could provide a little fuel for her fantasies. In fact, so what if was only interested in one thing, he was engrossing, the conversation was electric and she was trembling with arousal. Why analyse more than that? She could see him waiting for her down the alleyway, feel the cool wind against her skin coaxing shivers of excitement from her with each breath.

Her hand was creeping towards the waistband of her jeans as his next message appeared on screen. She was immediately flustered, it was as if he had caught the wandering of her fingers. She didn't want to admit the extent of the arousal which he was inducing in her but then why should she be ashamed of it. She typed automatically, the flush growing in her cheeks

Maybe a little

She had barely started to steady herself from the first question when the next appeared

What are you wearing?

He wasn't going to ask to see her was he, she wasn't ready for that! She wasn't wearing anything special. She looked a state from a long day of exertion. He ignored her reply simply firing of more instructions. He wanted her naked. She felt like she should be offended at his tone, but she wasn't. Let him take the dominant role.

More text appeared on screen drawing her attention back to the ache of desire in her body. He wanted her on the bed but that would mean moving all her stuff into the next room. The sofa would do fine! She giggled to herself at this small gesture of rebellion and started reading. She lapped up every detail, she was in that room being watched, being humiliated and she was surprising herself with her body's reaction. Her skin burned gloriously at each of his directed touches as she imagined the smooth wet hardness of his cock violating her mouth. At the first brush of her pussy lips ,a violent shudder went through her body. In no time at all her body was on the brink of release as her finger pumped in and out, desperately trying to emulate him inside her. Then at his command her body erupted into a glorious explosion and she lay there quivering. She wasn't even aware of what she was doing, as her body came down off her high and she found herself typing "

I came sir

" before collapsing back onto the sofa.

***

Two weeks after that initial meeting Sarah found herself at home, naked and kneeling on the floor, going through her new nightly ritual. Every day, she was sent a text with new instructions. Mostly these involved touching herself to the point of orgasm and then forcing herself not to fall over the brink, but they had become interspaced with more kinky instructions. It started with her pinching her nipples, and when she responded to this unquestioningly it progressed to spanking of thighs. Recently, with the surprise arrival of a glass dildo in the post, she been instructed to "train her throat" and each night she would force it as deep into her mouth as she could and hold it there, desperately trying not to gag. She had surprised herself with her readiness to adhere to each request. She found each new pain and degradation made her starved body sing even more and she waited impatiently for new instructions.

This evening there was a new box which had arrived in the post and a new extract of writing in her inbox. She had been instructed not to open the box until she was told. She started reading the latest exploits of his unnamed woman.

She was in the centre of large banquet hall, stripped completely with both hands stretched above her, fastened to chains which descended from the beam above. All around her men and women feasted, casting only momentary glances in her direction. As people gradually finished dining, a crowd started to gather around her and innumerable hands reached out to absently caress and pinch her as the sea of faces laughed and chatted with one another. Her master was the last to rise. Unceremoniously he walked straight towards her and stopped behind her back. She could feel his presence, the warmth of his breath on her neck, the pull, almost gravity like, of his body behind hers. Arms reached around her waist and something cold and hard was roughly thrust inside her, her soaking lips offering no resistance. She looked down to see a blunt metal hook penetrating her, attached to a length of rope. As she watched the rope was hoisted the beam. Steadily the rope was pulled taut, the mounting pressure inside her forcing her onto tiptoes at which point the rope was fastened. She teetered, each time she fell back slightly the unyielding metal pressed firmly into the upper wall of her pussy, in an intense mix of pleasure and discomfort. All the while she could hear the sounds of her master's cane being readied behind her.

She knew what was coming. Twenty strikes had become the standard but the hook was an added element. Despite her nerves she could feel her excitement trickle down the cold metal as the first blow landed, she gasped at the sharp pain which then turned to an intense pressure inside her as she fell back off her toes. She was just recovering herself when the next blow landed and she fell back once more. This cycle continued, sharp pain, dull pressure, followed by the familiar spreading warmth of pleasure through her lower body. At each strike both pleasure and pain grew in intensity. Then as soon as it had started the hook was removed as she was dimly aware of her master shout "she's all yours".

Then the press of bodies moved forwards and a forest of hands started groping her with more intensity. One woman moved her way to the front grinning wickedly and without breaking eye contact started to kneel. She could feel the woman's breath traversing its way agonisingly slowly across her stomach and then the woman's mouth was between her legs, hungrily sucking her soaking clit. As she writhed under the skill of the woman's mouth, she became aware of a body pressing into her from behind. She felt that unmistakable contradiction of soft hardness as a man's erect cock sprung between her legs. Distracted by the mouth and so many hands over her body she was only dimly aware that this cock was slicker than normal, particularly well lubricated. The tip reached her puckered asshole and begun to push inside. She was pushed forward roughly, dislodging the woman between her legs and many pairs of hands pulled her arms back to either side.

Everything became a blur of sensation and pleasure, as the cock thrust in and out of her arse. Cocks found their way into her hands and started thrusting between her fingers. Her head was pulled back and a slick hard rod slid into her mouth thrusting down her throat. Soon a sticky jet of cum poured into her mouth and she barely had time to swallow before she was forced between the legs of a woman. The sweet wetness was almost suffocating as thighs tensed around her head. Trance like, she compulsively sought to satisfy everyone around her, lost in the sensations and degradation. Then it was over and she was left panting on her knees, she somehow managed assume a dignified posture as cum dribbled all over her. "Thank you sir" she found herself whispering.

Sarah finished reading, already breathless. She quickly sent off a text, hoping for her next instruction. She felt that it would be wrong somehow, to pleasure herself without express command. Almost as soon as the text was sent her phone rang.

"Master?" she answered shakily.

"What did you think of the story?"

"It was all right" she found herself saying, affecting her normal cheekiness. She decided to give up the pretence, "It was quite something ... Sir".

To her surprise he giggled a rich full happy sound. "I'm glad to hear it. Seems like you can handle the depths of my kinkiness."

"I think I can master. It excites me."

"Open the box for me."

She reached over and tore into the packaging opening it to find a bottle of lube and what looked like a butt plug made from metal.

"Put it in" he said simply.

Considering this was her first time, Sarah barely hesitated. She poured lube onto it and doggedly positioned it against her tight arse. She felt a slight pleasure swiftly turn to discomfort as the tip entered her but slowly, doggedly she carried on. The discomfort subsided as she relaxed and was replace by a pleasurable fullness.

"It is in" she declared triumphantly.

"Good then lets have some fun."

**

The next package arrived on the day of the proposed meeting. She had been told to expect it and not to open it until after the massage which he had booked for her. The masseuse arrived at just after 2pm with a folding table. It was a woman, short and lithe with a strength about her. Sarah found herself noting the attractiveness of this woman, her olive brown skin and, her large dark eyes. She left the room allowing Sarah to strip and cover herself with a towel and the woman soon retuned with a pot of massage oil.

Warm, deft hands kneaded into her aching shoulders and down her back, and, head pressed into the pillow, Sarah let her body melt into the table. The hands worked down into the small of her back stopping at the top of the buttocks and then moved onto her legs. They started with her calves and then moved upwards, deeply manipulating her muscles. It was as they started going higher up her thigh that Sarah became aware of her the dull ache between her legs in response to the woman's touch. The hands kept going higher, did a massage normally go so high? She wasn't sure. Before she could make up her mind, she was turned over.

Sarah watched her, the taut muscles of her arms, her cleavage heaving slightly as she moved. She watched as the woman moved to the tops of her legs with a mixture of anticipation and worry. She knew how much her body was responding, was it evident? The arms crept up her legs again, and the desire in Sarah's starved body overtook her. She closed her eyes and lay back as the woman worked her upper thighs. The towel moved upwards and Sarah was sure she must now be exposed, but she didn't care anymore. Fingers firmly spread her legs massaging her outer lips, and she felt a soft mouth close over her clit. She gasped with pleasure and then opened her eyes. Her towel was still in place and the masseuse was just finishing off. She must have been daydreaming.

Flushing, she thanked the masseuse and was left to get dressed. The frustration of her body was starting to drive her crazy. She saw the woman to the door and then turned her attention to her latest package. It was time to get ready.