This story was written in collaboration with an on-line female friend and incorporates both male and female points of view. I think that having both inputs makes a story more realistic and more exciting, and I would welcome other collaborators.
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At dusk, he begins to prepare me for what lies ahead of us tonight. He bathes me first. I kneel in the steamy, lavender-scented bath water, facing him. He smooths liquid soap over my body, into every hollow and over every curve, relaxing me completely, makes my skin glow.
He tells me to lie back so he can coat my pussy with soft white shaving cream. The tub is long and deep, and he puts a rubber pillow under my ass to raise my hips for easy access. Then he delicately shaves me completely bare.
He smiles seeing my clit swell from the contact, but does not touch me there--not yet. He runs his hands up and down my legs. They are already silky and smooth. Next he tells me to turn over, get on my hands and knees and kneel on the rubber cushion, and he gently shaves the soft back folds of my pussy lips, and up toward and around my asshole.
I am twitching and softly moaning. This seems to encourage him, as he squeezes lavender bath gel onto his hands and runs them over my butt cheeks. Then he gently pushes his foam-coated thumb into my asshole. I gasp. He moves his thumb in and out, making sure that I'm clean, opening me wide. I surrender to him.
After my bath, I sit on the edge of our bed. He brushes my hair with a wooden-backed hairbrush, the same one he uses to spank me. The long, slow strokes make the silver-blond strands shine. My hair feels soft against my bare shoulders.
He tells me to lean back and sprays my warm, naked body with vanilla perfume. The delicious mist dampens the undersides of my heavy breasts, and the soft skin of my inner thighs.
"Stand up," he orders, and I rise, waiting for whatever he wants to do to me next. I am completely under his spell and terribly excited, hoping that he will touch me where I am aching for him.
Instead, he positions me in the middle of the room and begins to dress me in the clothes he has chosen. First he picks up my sheer black open-tip bra, the one that almost completely exposes my breasts, pushing them upward and making my nipples protrude.
He leans down and draws my large, already-erect nipples into his mouth and gently bites and sucks them until they are almost incredibly engorged, distended. Gently he attaches a tiny silver tweezer clamp to each nipple, making me gasp with pleasure. A delicate silver chain connects the two clamps, stretching between my breasts. It doesn't hurt, just makes me instantly, completely aware of my breasts. Instinctively I arch my back. My breasts feel beautiful, my nipples like precious jewels.
Smiling he tugs on the chain, then gives it a couple of sharp jerks. My mouth opens in a silent scream. It hurts, but also drives me wild.
"You are mine, you know," he says. "Are you going to obey me tonight?"
"Yes sir," is my quick response.
He slips my transparent black shirt, the one with the scarlet stitching, over my head. It is far too tight, and my breasts push out provocatively against the thin material. My nipples, stimulated by the clamps, seem to threaten to pierce through the fabric. Every time I move, my breasts shift heavily. The silver chain glitters under the black mesh.
Now he reaches for my butterfly thong. I am already so wet that before he pulls the gorgeous black and turquoise panties up to my ass, he stops to blot my soaking pussy with a black silk scarf. The material is cool and exquisitely soft. He slowly drags it between my legs and up to my mouth, letting me breathe in my own hot smell of jasmine and vanilla and sandalwood. The cool, damp silk caresses my cheek. I lick it with the very tip of my tongue, tasting my own bitter sweetness.
He winds the scarf around my neck, then pulls the panties up over my ass and hips. He takes a long time to position the straps perfectly, the horizontal one across the small of my back, the vertical one straight and tight and deep in the crack of my ass. Testing his work, he gently parts the split crotch of the panties to expose the rose-pink of my pussy lips. They look like the petals of a rain-glazed flower.
The skirt he has chosen is also black. It's a straight skirt, tight, made of a stretchy, clingy fabric. He has shortened it so that instead of reaching just below my knees, as it used to, it barely grazes the tops of my thighs. The skirt is so tight over my rounded ass that the straps of the thong are visible.
The high black heels that he slips onto my feet make my legs feel longer, sexier and stronger. They make me arch my back, pushing my ass outward to mirror and balance my jutting breasts.
As a finishing touch, he unwinds the silk scarf from my neck and uses it, still rich with the smell of my hot, wet pussy, to blindfold me. He tells me that we are going somewhere that I've never been, but that I should not be nervous or afraid, he has been there before and everything is arranged. He tells me that there is someone waiting there for me, someone he has chosen especially for me--someone who will fulfill all the demands of my imagination. He asks me if I trust him. He kisses me when I nod.
He supports me as we walk outside into the balmy night. His arm is warm and strong around my waist. I might as well be blind, but I'm not afraid of falling. I hear him unlock the car door and expect him to guide me into the front passenger seat. Instead, he opens up the back door on that side and helps me to climb inside.
With his strong hands he positions me on my knees facing the rear of the car. My stomach is pressed against the back of the seat and my breasts are resting on top of the seat back, but with my hips cocked backward so that there is no contact between my pussy and the seat back. He tells me to stretch my arms out and grasp the edges of the seat back, and not to let go until he gives me permission. I silently obey. I have to part my thighs a little for stability, stretching the skirt even tighter over my ass. I think he is about to get out of the car and into the front seat—the back door is still open, and the light from the street lamp is shining in--but he surprises me but yanking up my skirt, revealing the bare smooth curves of my ass, and giving me several sharp, hard spanks. The pain is shocking, intense, spreading out from the point of contact. Heat spreads over my ass, and I know that it's turning pink, then red, starting to glow. I hold my breath and wait.
Just as I begin to relax, he smacks me again, hard, over and over, so many times that I lose count. He slaps the undersides of my butt cheeks and the tender flesh of my inner thighs, sometimes hitting my pussy as he spanks me. It hurts so much that tears spring to my eyes and I start to ask him to stop, but I keep quiet. "That's so you won't forgot who you belong to," he whispers.
He is still for a minute, listening to my ragged breathing and stifled sobs, until he is satisfied that I have submitted completely. Then I hear him opening something, a case of some kind, fastened with metal clasps. A moment later, he is spreading my ass cheeks apart with one hand, revealing the little pink rosebud of my asshole.
Leaning down, he flicks his tongue over the tiny opening, darting it inside just for a moment. Then, still holding me open with his fingers, he slides something else inside. It feels like our silver bullet, smooth and metallic, but it's much longer and thicker. It fills me up inside. A cord dangles out of my asshole like a little tail, weighted down by a control.
He presses a button and the plug in my ass begins to vibrate deep inside me, gently at first but harder and faster as he adjusts the setting. My thighs start to tremble and I have to restrain myself from grinding my pussy against the back of the seat. He knows I want to and grips my hips, holding me back.
"Do not let your pussy get anywhere near the back of that seat or when I get done with you, you won't be able to sit down for a week. I'm warning you." His voice is firm, hard. "Be a good girl for me. Just wait until we get there."
It's all I can do to control myself, but I arch my back and I hold my ass as far away from the seat as I can. I can feel my cream running down my thighs. He slaps my ass again, hard, as a warning, then kisses me sweetly. He gets out of the back seat and closes the door, then gets in front and starts to drive.
We drive for what seems like a long time. The CD he made for our wedding is playing. The vibrator churns in my asshole, making me shake. My thighs ache with the effort of holding still. My breasts feel swollen, huge, propped on the back of the seat, bouncing with the movement of the car. I open my eyes beneath the blindfold and see only soft, velvety blackness. My eyelashes brush against the silk. I close my eyes and the silk kisses my eyelids.
How have I gotten to this place, I wonder. Here I am in this humiliating position, doing whatever this man wants me to, and loving it. I remember the first time I felt the excitement of submission. The older boy next door had tied me up in the tent in his backyard. I must have been only twelve or thirteen, but my breasts had started to swell, and I had a light fuzz on my pussy. My older friend told me we were going to play pirate and captive, and that he was going to be the pirate examining his prize. And examine me he did. When I resisted, he pulled down my shorts and spanked me until I agreed to let him do whatever he wanted. The pleasurable feelings that I got from that surrender have been addictive. My present lover is only one in a series of men who recognized my needs and guided me to serve them.
I feel the car going up a steep drive, then stop. I hear an automatic garage door open, and our car slowly moves forward, then is still. I can hear the door quietly glide closed behind us.
He gets out of the car, closing the door behind him. I can hear him speaking to someone--a woman, but one with a very deep, husky, smoky voice. I can't tell what they are saying. In a few minutes, the door next to me is opened and a female body, warm and soft, slides in next to me. I can feel that she's sitting very close, her legs folded under her, examining me. She's so close I can feel her breath and the heat from her body. She smells like orchids.
I sense that he is standing just outside the open door, watching us. I stay perfectly still, as I was told to, my arms stretched out across the back of the seat and my ass curved outward, like a good girl.
Her voice is harsh, almost guttural. "Perfect," she says. And then, "May I?"
