Three Falls One Bitch

Three falls, we'd said. I

thought

taking her down had been a little too easy; now the ache in my back made me see why.

Dazed, I lay there, considering the implications. Lena had really gotten off on subbing, being taken hard. Did that mean she'd just want me to take her again? Harder? I could never be so lucky. Whips? Chains? Well, it'd only be fair if I took a spank or two in return, but what to

expect

...

Lena crouched over me. She was grinning hugely, writing something on a piece of paper. She finished, folded it in half, and put it on my forehead. I sat up and looked over my shoulder, watching her little ass sway across the mats.

One of the other students whistled. "That looked like it hurt. What's the paper? She give you her number?"

I unfolded the paper, read it. "Her address, actually."

He was giving me a look.

"We're...uh...doing some training together. For this...meet...thing."

"What kind of training?"

I glanced back at Lena. She was at the doors. Noticing me, she grinned and smacked her ass, then vanished out of sight.

"Rough stuff," I said vaguely.

...

Like the girl, Lena's house was small and pretty, a little one-bedroom just a few blocks away from the dojo. She met me at the door, apparently fresh from a shower and wearing a cheongsam. I couldn't help but stare at her, worried as I was. Her figure was petite; no question about it, but the Chinese dress hugged it perfectly, clinging to and emphasizing her firm little breasts.

"Hi."

Chinese dress? That didn't seem ominous. I saw a hint of black at the top of the leg-slit as she turned around. Lacy panties? Very reassuring. Realizing I had my eyes locked on her tight ass, she smirked over her shoulder and beckoned for me to follow her in.

"C'mon in. And make yourself comfortable."

I kicked off my shoes and tossed aside my jacket, starting to head for the couch. She shook her head. "No, no. More comfortable than that."

I gave her a questioning look; she answered by walking to me, grabbing my chin, and pulling me down into a fierce, hard kiss. Her tongue shoved past my lips and her other hand shot down to grab and knead my ass. The height difference was usually a thrill; I love tilting a girl's chin back, pulling her up by her ass. But now she was pulling me

down

, and it felt—

No time to think about how

that

felt, because suddenly she was grinding against me, hitching herself up and into my crotch, making the jeans I'd changed into distinctly uncomfortable. She moaned softly against my lips, caught the lower one between her teeth, dug her fingers into my skin—and as sudden as it started, it stopped.

"Take off your clothes," she said, stepping away.

"Right here?" I felt absurdly self-conscious. We were in front of her picture window, and being ordered to strip threw me for a loop. She laughed and put her hands on her hips.

"You didn't have a problem when you did it in the dojo, did you?" She pointed at the bulge in my jeans. "I want to see that. Take your clothes off. Now."

My shirt went first, button-by-button, while she tapped her foot impatiently, hands on her hips. When I started on my pants, wondering why on earth I'd worn button-fly jeans, she stepped forward to me and almost ripped them down, boxers with them.

My cock sprang out and up, bone-hard, nearly smacking into my belly; she grinned approvingly and closed a hand around it, pumping so rough I sucked in a gasp. Laughing at my tension, she gave me a squeeze, then sank down to her knees, the cheongsam crinkling around her hips.

She didn't tease me or go gently; after a few hot, fast licks over my head, in fact, she took me as far down her throat as she could. I gasped. She started sucking so hard her cheeks hollowed.

"Jesus," I groaned, back pressed into the cold glass of the picture window. Anyone walking down the street could see this! And she added her hands on my ass to the view, kneading and pulling as she bobbed up and down. Just the sound was hot as she slurped along my cock; gagging the next time she forced her head down. She pulled off panting, licked away a string of precum she'd sucked out of me, and looked up with eyebrows raised.

"You like this?" She said, left hand slipping back to stroke my shaft against her lips. She kissed the head, nuzzled the spit-soaked length against her cheek, and kept jerking. I couldn't do anything but moan. "Me, on my knees...servicing you?" Her hand got faster, the other one dropping to play with and tug at by balls.

"Lena," I panted, fingers clawing for purchase on the glass, "if you...keep this up..."

She didn't listen. "Being..." Her hand stopped at the base, and she swallowed my length again, till her nose was nestled in my close-trimmed pubic hairs. Pulling off again, lips sticky with pre-cum, she panted "...your hot little bitch?" and beat me off over her open mouth.

Oh god

.

I watched her lick the precum off her lips shimmering lips, groaning expectantly and working her hips in time with her hand. My balls went tight, tingling shooting through my body.

Any second now.

Then her lips closed, curling up in another mischievous grin. And that hand on my cock stopped at the base, went vise-tight. So did the one on my balls. I was barreling towards an orgasm, and she'd hit the brakes, my cock twitching and nearly purple in her hand.

"What's wrong?" She asked innocently, releasing my balls but damn well keeping her fist tight around my base. Ever held a finger on an artery? That's that it felt like—a desperate pulse against unwanted pressure. "Expecting to come

already

?" I gaped down at her, dismayed; she chuckled, rising to nip my chin and tugging lightly on my cock. "Guess you forgot who lost the bet."

She turned away, started walking. Her hand stayed right where it was, and I had no choice but to follow. I slowed, tried to touch her; she gave me a warning squeeze and kept moving. I cast a worried gaze back at my clothes, pooled by the window, and followed her down the hall. After a few feet of photographs and a "KICK ASS" poster ("Sensei got that for me when I made black belt," she said casually) we arrived at her dimly-lit bedroom; she tugged me inside and to the Spartan twin bed. Once there, she let me go and turned—I thought it was for another kiss, but instead it was to shove me, making me tumble clumsily back and land on my ass on the mattress.

"Put this on," she said, grabbing something off the nightstand. Even now I stared at her little hips, swaying as she walked to me. As she crouched I tried to peek down her dress, to no avail. Then I paid attention to what she was holding: a strip of rawhide, about as wide as a pencil. My eyes went a little wide. Was that—

She answered my question before I could ask by tying it around the base of my shaft. I growled faintly, which made her smirk.

Smack

went her hand against my thigh, without a lick of warning. I jumped.

"I'm not even hitting you hard yet, he-bitch," she said mockingly. Her fingers traced delicately across my balls, closed around them, squeezed so gently I moaned. Then she let me go, stepping back, and wriggling out of her tight Chinese dress...

...to reveal a black leather two piece outfit underneath it, taking her from submissive little China girl to dominatrix bitch queen in as long as it took for her to step out of a dress. Hot as she looked, it made my heart skip a beat—what had I gotten myself into? For a second I wondered if she'd thought that, taking my smacks and slaps tied to the sawhorse, but then she was pulling a chair into place across from me and I worried about what'd happen next.

She stepped around the chair and leaned in, looking me over from top to cock to toe. Her hand came up to her chin, stroked it thoughtfully. Then she turned and vanished into the closet, rummaging around and returning with a pair of handcuffs.

"Oh, come on!"

"Hands behind your ba-aack," she said, shaking them above my head. I grudgingly obeyed, and was rewarded by her sliding my knee between her thighs as she cuffed my wrists. Then she stepped back and plopped down in the chair, resting her foot on my knee.

I tested the cuffs, twisting a little. She smiled and ran her toes along my thigh, tracing little circles up to my hip. "You look good like that," she purred, slipping her foot underneath my balls, lifting them slightly. She let them drop again, pushed my legs farther apart. "

Very

frustrated, but..."

"And why would I be frustrated?" I snapped, watching her toes make a lazy figure-eight on my stomach.

"Sarcasm'll only make it worse." She grinned, locking eyes with me and pressing the ball of her foot against my cock. I saw her eyes widen a little, and then she pushed it up, against my stomach. Started to work her toes up and down. I could feel precum leaking onto my skin; so could she, evidently, because she chuckled and rubbed her toes over my head. "...didn't think it'd feel so

hot

..." She slipped one hand under her bra, the other beneath the waistband of her little leather panties, and I watched her wrists move in sync with her foot along my cock.

Feet, rather. The other one was there, too, both of them squeezing my length and pumping up and down. She broke off the eye contact, gaze flicking down to watch my cock throb against her toes. She licked her lips a little, arched her back, stroked harder. Her feet were pushing me back into the mattress.

I groaned. She laughed, bringing sticky fingers out of her panties and flicking them at me. Then she untied something, what I thought was a tassel, and the panties came apart like a bikini bottom. She let them drop, curling her toes against my balls, then slid a finger—two fingers—into her cunt. It looked nice and wet already, and I was just as fixated on her fingers working in and out as she was on my cock. For a while, there wasn't any sound but our breathing and the quiet sounds of what she was doing; I broke the silence with another moan, which made her lean farther back in her chair, frigging herself harder, other hand groping furiously at her tits. Her breathing was getting heavier, head tilting back...

She made sure to keep her eyes on me, though, even as they lidded to slits in pleasure. I was squirming, now, trying to thrust my dick against those hot little feet, while she kept them rubbing infuriatingly

around

my most sensitive spots. She caught my eye, saw the frustration and laughed, breaking into another moan. Her hips started to work into her fingers, "Poor little bitch," she panted, running her toes just below the head of my cock.

"Fuck you," I managed, hands tightening into fists behind my back. She smeared precum over my head, down my shaft, getting me slick.

"No, you

won't

," she said, giving me a final smile before her head lolled back against the chair, one to

three

fingers fucking into her cunt.

Her feet tightened around the sides of my cock. Somewhere in my mind I marveled at just how extensively she'd trained her body; even her feet, slimly wrapped around my cock, were strong. I sank back on the mattress, working my hips against the movements of her feet, panting, watching as she bucked against her own fingers. Her pussy was soaked, and her moans mingling with her fingers were mesmerizing.

"You wanna cum?" It was almost a hiss, she was so focused on her pleasure. "You wanna blow your load—right—fucking—now?"

I moaned, writhing. She locked eyes with me. "Yes," I said through gritted teeth, "yes yes yes I want to

come

—"

"All-over-me?" This came out as a staccato.

"Yesss..."

She just stared, eyes blazing, and jerked me off with her feet in sync with her fingers, watching, hearing my moans get louder, seeing my hips jolt harder and harder.

And then she stopped. And

grinned

.

"No." She jolted, crying out sharply, back arching hard. "Fuck—!" I was treated to the gorgeous sight of her orgasm, her toes curling uselessly against my skin, fingers coated liberally in juice which she

made sure

to lick off when she was done. She sank back in her chair, staring at the ceiling, gasping for breath and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

I wondered privately if my cock was going to fall off. She snapped me out of my thoughts by climbing onto the bed beside me, swirling one sticky fingertip over the head of my dick. It came up shiny with her juice and my precum.

"You know what to do."

I snarled through another "fuck you." She circled my parted lips with her fingertip, then pushed it in against my tongue; I was a little surprised, finding I didn't mind the taste. "Suck, like a good bitch," she ordered, gently—so frustratingly gently—stroking me with her other hand. I obeyed, eyes fixated on hers. She pulled her finger out, rewarded me with a firm and tangy kiss that sent an especially hard throb through my shaft. Then she stepped back and folded her arms. "Get on your knees and shoulders for me."

"What?"

Impatient again, she grabbed my shoulder, turned me, pushed me onto my knees, then facefirst into the bed. My ass was up and bare, and she ran her fingers over it. I glared back at her; she stepped away and out of my limited view. I could hear her rummaging through the closet again.

"So, tell me."

I strained against the cuffs. They weren't

painful

, not terribly; in fact, they were fur-lined and surprisingly soft on the skin. But they were tight, and they were inescapable, and my hands weren't moving from their spot behind my back.

"What were your exact words?"

Shifting my shoulders a little, I tried to look back at her. It wasn't easy; she kept stepping around me, something going

tap tap tap

against her thigh, and I couldn't move my head much with my shoulders pressed into the bed.

"Whoever loses is the other person's bitch," I said, a little bitterly. She snickered, and something traced a line along my back, up my neck, against my cheek—a wide, black strap. Leather. Between this, the outfit, and the cuffs, little Lena had a lot of explaining to do.

"You don't sound too thrilled this time." She drummed her fingers on my ass, reached between my thighs to squeeze my achingly hard cock. It actually dripped on the bed, dollops of my frustration. She caught one and sucked her finger clean.

"You tricked me," I growled.

"Calling me a cheat?" There was a sudden motion, and a burning stripe across my ass. I jolted but didn't cry out. She chuckled, running the strap in circles at the small of my back.

"No. Just a manipulative little bi—" The next one was harder, too hard for me. "AH! Fuck!" I yelped and tried to squirm away on reflex. She raked her nails down my back and smacked again, against my thigh.

"Stay

right there

," she snapped, "you keep that ass

up

for me, bitch!"

WHACK

. I tried to protest but cried out again; she was spanking hard, fast, alternating between her hand and the strap.

"Don't—"

whack whap SMACK

"Fucking—"

SLAP whack WHACK

"—try to get away!" She finished with a hard, open-palm slap across my thigh. I shuddered, but kept my ass up, even higher off the bed than when we started. It stung, far worse than the damned cockring, and yet my hard-on wasn't going away. If anything it was getting even bigger. Once I stopped trying to jolt away from her hand, she gentled some, stroked soothingly over my ass.

"Better, bitch, so much better. You liked doing this to

me

so much..." My whole ass was tingling. She squeezed it, making me groan faintly, and then reached down to play with my cock. "But then you seem to like taking it, too. Do you wanna cum yet?"

"God, yes," I growled into the mattress.

"Will you say please?" Her finger traced a line between my cheeks, circled round a place I never thought anything would be going near. But I couldn't focus on that, just had to think about coming, I would flood the goddamn building at this rate...

"Please," I groaned. "Make me—make me come,

please

, Lena..."

"Like a bitch?" She purred, leaning over me.

Fuck it. "Like your bitch," I assented. She nipped my neck, chuckling, then moved away again, touch disappearing entirely. I could have whimpered, but after another moment of rummaging she came back again. I heard a bottle open, and then felt her fingers, rubbing something cool and slippery over my ass,

into

my—

"Wait a minute." I tried to interrupt, pull away.

"No," she said simply, and two of her slick fingers forced their way into me, worked in and out. Not hard, but not gentle, either, making my whole body clench. "Relaaaax," she chided, kneading my ass with her free hand, groping and petting until I finally calmed down. Once I got used to the intrusion, it wasn't that bad—and as she pushed them to the knuckle again, I felt a sudden jolt that seemed to go through my ass to my cock and up my

spine

. I moaned, and she laughed pleasantly, leaning over me and nuzzling my neck, still fingering.

"Jesus...Lena..."

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah..." I was loathe to admit it, but fuck, it felt good, every thrust of her fingers sending a shudder up my body and a throb through my dick.

She bit at my throat, whispered heated in my ear. "Want more?"

I wasn't sure what she meant, so I said sure as best I could, by now pushing back at her hand, hands clenching and unclenching against my back. To my disappointment this made her pull her fingers out (though even that felt intense). For a moment I thought I was being teased again. Then I felt more lube, and

then

I felt something that definitely was

not

her fingers.

Jesus Christ. She was wearing a strapon. I couldn't take this—not something so big, not so sudden, I started to tense up. She ran her tongue along the edge of my ear, cooed soothing: "You want it, bitch, you want it, so just relax and fucking

take it

, I'm gonna make you mine—"

I relaxed, pushed back at her. She continued, pushing in, my groan almost but not quite drowning her out. "—gonna fuck you, boy, gonna make you come all over my fucking bed, because you're my

bitch

tonight..."

Before I knew it the thing was hilted in me—I could feel the leather of its harness against my ass. Every little motion I made elicited a gasp, another thrill of sensation, and I squeezed my eyes shut. She pulled back, pushed in, started to fuck me. That was almost enough to bring me off, but that strap around my cock hadn't gone away and I still teetered on the edge.

I started to move my hips, working against this petit dominatrix's thrusts, wondering what an odd sight it must have been—the smaller girl bent over me and fucking me into the bed. And me shuddering, pushing back, taking it.

Her bitch.

"I think you're ready," she murmured, nipping at my ear. Before I could respond, she reached between us and flicked a switch somewhere. That strapon proved itself to be a vibrator, filling my ass with a sudden, thrumming, all-powerful buzz that made me squirm and writhe and scream into the bed.

"Holy—fuck—" I howled.

"

Nngh

," she moaned, hilting it in me again, pressing her clit against the vibes, rocking and shivering against me and—at long last—untying that cockstrap.

I saw stars.

I could barely feel anything, first, like numbness set in somehow—then feeling rushed into me, through every bit of my body, radiating from my ass and my twitching, pulsing cock. I came harder than I'd ever come in my life, and her hand was there to catch some of it. She squealed through another orgasm against me, bringing her fingers to her lips and licking up my cum. We finally slumped, disconnecting, against the mattress, my hips still bucking. Shuddering, she uncuffed me. I felt like I could barely move.

She was the first to sit up. To my surprise, she shakily climbed off the bed, and beckoned for me to do the same.