You Too

She writhed beneath his hulking shadow, seemingly aroused by the very thought of what he could do to her. He stalked around the bed, surveying her bare body from every angle.

He couldn't help but admire his handiwork: her wrists were bound with white cord to the iron-wrought headboard, while leather cuffs and a spreader bar held her feet wide apart.

Her knees bent up into the air, and her pelvis thrust upward involuntarily as he surfed his hand a foot above her flesh.

"Sir?" she breathed, with no response. He continued stalking around her splayed form, watching. "Sir, please…" she moaned, feeling his presence but blinded by his handkerchief, fastened firmly behind her head.

"Quiet," he barked firmly, before lighting a cigarette. "I'll tell you when I want to hear your voice. For now, you just squirm."

She heard his footsteps recede slightly, but knew he hadn't left the room. Practically prepared for orgasm already, she drew a steadying breath. Images flashed across her blinded eyes of him removing his clothing, gripping her skin, at long last penetrating her.

He watched her pelvis rise again, knowing the thoughts that must be dancing within her. How long could this stiff erection go unheeded? It was a continual battle, seeing a girl pliant and ready, eager for his machinations, unknowing of their design.

Her fingers formed fists and relaxed again as she rode waves of unexpectancy to their peak, then remastered her hormones. She gasped. He knew she was wondering where he was, aching to speak or to know what he was planning.

But he would never give away those gems. It would take away the fun of the game, and they both knew it. She inhaled again, then gasped, "Please, sir, come back."

Oh, that word. "Please" echoed in his head, a cacophonous plea for attention. But she hadn't said it to be rewarded. She had defied a direct order. He thundered toward her and grabbed a fistful of hair. "We're here so you can take my orders, not the other way around. Silence!" He pulled briefly before releasing.

Her nipples rose to attention at the scolding. He fought the urge to devour them by stepping back and taking a final drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out. With a cleansing breath, he reapproached her slowly. His fingers flexed, eager to begin. He cleared his throat and demanded, "Now, I want you to tell me exactly why I'm here."

She panted, her heartbeat quickening as she acknowledged his order. Stuttering, she began, "Sir, I-I-I'm here to—" she cut off as his fingers met the flesh of her right breast.

He inhaled. "Yes? Go on."

She struggled to focus as he zeroed in on her areola. "—to obey your orders, enjoy your wild side, and have you fuck me senseless." Her breath rushed from her lungs. She was so ready for him to be inside her.

He smiled slightly at the power she had granted him. The metal clasps clanged against the spreader bar as she bucked violently beneath his fingers. "Baby, you're in luck tonight," he breathed, clamping her nipple with his strong digits before releasing her again. "Now," he said, rising from her side, "I'm going to untie your arms. You will swing your legs to the right, plant your feet on the floor, and place your hands at your side until further instructed."

"Yes, sir," she replied. Goose bumps rose as he traced a hand up to her right wrist, expertly releasing it and then its partner. She swung her spread-open feet to the right and placed her hands on the bed.

He moved to stand directly before her. Holding back a grimace at the ache his engorgement was causing, he commanded her to undress him.

Blindly she reached forward, finding his thighs. Oh, she yearned to feel between them, but held back. Instead, she glided her hands up past his hips and up to his breast, and felt for the highest button of his silk shirt. Slowly, she unbuttoned her way down his chest. When she reached the last button, she leaned forward and freed it with her teeth.

His breath quickened—he hadn't expected that. Grasping for the back of her head, he said gruffly, "Do that again. For the button and the zipper."

He pushed her nose into the waistband of his trousers. She panted slightly, then went to work undoing the button. It took much longer, and he felt as though he might explode with aching, but finally it was unbuttoned. She made quick work of the zipper, and soon his pants fell to his feet.

Her face was still close, and he eased his cock closer to her face, until only the thin layer of boxer-cotton stood between her lips and his instrument. She sized him up, found him worthy, and eagerly awaited more. She longed to wrap her mouth around his tool, was so ready to suck him off, to feel him shudder with pleasure.

Nosing her way to the opening in any boxer short, she inhaled his scent and quivered with anticipation. Just as she darted her tongue out for her first taste, he pulled away and slapped her.

"Bitch!" he yelled at her bent over form, "Never without my consent. Now lay back. Keep your feet on the floor."

She fell back onto the bed, letting her hands drop to her side. "Put them above your head. Now." He ordered, and she lifted her hands without hesitation.

"No matter what I do, do not move your hands. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," she muttered.

He pulled off all his clothing, planning his next torture. What to do? She writhed eagerly, voluntarily bending to his will. He could walk away for hours and return, and know she would still be holding herself spread, naked, and silent upon that bed.

But his cock would never forgive him. It longed to be sated. He could take his time, if he must, but this girl before him would not leave his thoughts until pleasure had been given and received. He advanced upon her again, and she fought to keep her untied hands from wandering.

"Where should I touch you?" he asked her.

"Everywhere, please. Please, sir. Touch me." She begged him unabashedly.

He advanced upon her until he stood between her spread knees. "Tell me where."

She gasped, building her courage. "Between my legs. Please touch me there."

"What, there?" he teased, placing a finger on the inside of her right knee.

She shook her head blindly. "No sir. Higher, sir," she directed.

He moved his finger up her thigh an inch or so. "There?"

She moaned, "No, sir, much higher."

"Be more specific," he challenged.

"My pussy, sir! Please, touch me there. Pet me, hit me, pound me in my pussy!" she released, frustrated.

"Aaah, that's more like it. Now beg me for it," he said, lowering himself to her side. His lips met her ear as he uttered, "Beg me."

She turned her blindfolded face toward him and whispered, "Please, sir, I implore you to feel what you've done to me. Feel the wetness you've caused inside me. Be rough or be soft, but please, sir, bury your fingers into me, now!"

He planted his lips upon hers roughly, and finally acquiesced to her request, sliding three fingers into her prowess. She inhaled violently, gasping as he probed her slippery insides. "Yes, sir! Thank you!" she cried, bucking beneath his stroking.

His other hand slithered beneath her, gripping her hair. Pulling her head back, he whispered, "What will you do to get me inside you?"

She bit her lip, unable to form words as he played within her. She forced out, "Suck…Lick…Blow…" before gasping again.

He withdrew his hand from her nether region and used her juices to lubricate his cock. "Sit up," he said, pushing her from the nape of her neck. Once more she sat on the edge of the bed. "On your knees."

She fell forward to her knees, his hand still holding her hair firmly. Her mouth was open, gasping for breath. He shoved her craving face around his member. "Clean yourself off me," he told her, gripping her head. She began to suck, tenderly, and move her tongue around, tasting her own juices commingled with his taste and scent. An involuntary moaning hum began to escape her throat as she steadied her rhythm, lots, then a little, lots, than a little, pausing to pay special attention to the head of the throbbing organ.

His breathing grew shallow as she sucked him toward orgasm, and his grip tightened on her hair. But he knew better than to blow his load so early. He pulled her head back, free from his shaft. "Not so fast, slave," he breathed into her ear, "You know you won't get me off so easily."

"Yes, sir. Thank you for reminding me," she replied before bowing low. Already on her knees, the girl fell to his feet, kissing his ankles and gripping his heels. "Must you punish me, perhaps? I have forgotten my place."

He looked to the ceiling. Wow, she was good. She was begging for punishment, yet afraid to do wrong. Although he knew she'd never disobey intentionally, he admonished her. "Yes, you have, slave. You've overstepped your bounds. Return to the kneeling position."

He watched as she straightened, her jaw strong. "Good girl, but I know better. You've been bad, haven't you, bitch?" he twisted her head back.

She gasped in awkward pleasure. "No, sir. I would never disobey. I don't want to be punished." She pivoted on her knees. Now the bed was on her left.

He moved to sit on the bed, changing his grip on her hair. "Don't lie to me. I know you've been misbehaving. Now tell me what you've done."

Racking her brains, she realized this was just more of their game. Secure she had done nothing wrong, she created imaginary wrongs. "I-I touch myself in your absence, sir," she admitted.

His grip tightened. "Am I not enough for you, slave?"

"Sir, you are!" she yelped, reaching for his hand, which had her hair pulled more tightly than ever. "Sir, I am simply too weak to control my urges! Please, remind me what I will receive if I cannot obey."

"Very well," he said, relinquishing his hold, "You will stand and bend yourself face-down upon the bed. You will place your hands flat upon the bed and display your ass for punishment."

She hastily complied, the spreader bar hindering her only slightly. Her ass was pink and ready, with a moist slit at the bottom betraying her fear for what it truly was: excitement.

He stood to the left and rubbed his hands together, tugging on his cock a few times before preparing to begin the spanking. "You will count aloud. You will thank me for each strike. You will remember this the next time you consider rubbing your cunt while I am not present."

Her response was muffled by the tousled sheets.

Smack

. She jumped with shock at the first blow. "Thank you, sir!" she cried.

Silence. Then he pulled her head back. "I said count, you worthless cunt!"

"One! I'm so sorry, sir! Thank you."

Smack

. "Two! Thank you, sir."

Smack

. She uttered a massive sigh of relief. "Three. Thank you, sir."

He rubbed his hand circularly over her ass. The first blots of pink began to surface.

Smack

. "Four. Thank you sir!" she cried.

Smack

. "Five! Thank y—"

Smack

. "Six! Thank you, si—"

Smack

. "Seven! Sir, thank you!"

More rubbing. He felt her tremble slightly. "Not a sound. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

Smack. Smack. Smack

. With each strike, she drew a sharp breath inward, but remained silent. This was why she came, to be relieved of her responsibilities. She lay beneath him, compliant to his every whim, eager to obey rather than command. Here, she was not expected to be a powerhouse of strength. She was not a definition of womanhood. Here, she was sex. Raw, powerful, sex. She was an object to be worked upon, viewed as a slave. It was as if he placed a collar around her neck. She was not in control. She was there to be controlled.

He pounded her cheeks steadily. Her sharp intakes of breath never ceased. His erection did not fail. It stood ready to probe and to poke. It knew its time was close.

With a deft movement, he pulled the spreader bar up and away, lifting her legs from the floor and dropping her pelvis flat on the bed. He bent slightly to slide inside the triangle made by the bar and her two legs, reveling at the feel of cold metal on his exposed buttocks.

When he released the bar, it fell to the floor. She was collapsed upon the bed, a limp object waiting to be reacted upon. He knelt on the bed between her legs.

From behind, she felt his penis prodding at her inner thigh. There it was, the tool of her division, laying hard but dormant between his legs. His hands spread her ass, then moved down to her nether lips, already slick and ready. She angled her labia open, eager to receive his intrusion.

He held his member at the threshold of her pussy for what seemed like minutes. She began to sense a gentle pressure and pushed herself toward it. He placed a steadying hand on her lower back. "Don't move. This is mine."

Then he plowed into her, cleaving her in two. He remained planted, waiting for her to catch her breath, feeling her walls as they wrapped themselves around this alien form. She seemed made just for him, tight in all the right places. He forced himself to withdraw slightly, then plowed into her again. His second hand reached for her front, slicking up her clitoris and holding her in place.

He felt her tremble again, the warning of an orgasm close at hand. He slowly massaged her pleasure button, pulling out slightly, then bam, pounding her again.

"Thank me."

Between pants, she released a steady stream of "Thank you, sir. Oh, thank you. God…oh fuck."

He pushed forward again, and her voice raised as she said, "Fuck m—"

Withdrawing from her clit, he moved his fingers to her mouth. "Clean my fingers." She immediately began sucking them with fervor, removing her own flavor from his skin. He hooked his fingers into the corner of her mouth and pulled, as though she were a fish on his line. "Now, tell me what you want me to do. The how hard, the how fast, everything. Make me fuck you."

She panted, looking down at the sheets. "Sir, start slowly, but hard. Pound into me. Rip me in two. Hurt me. Augh!" she exclaimed as he followed her directions.

"Yes, please, sir. Just like tha—augh!—Thank you!" she cried. "Now faster, please," she urged him. "Build up speed—augh!—Yes! Please, like that."

He thrust deeply into her. It wasn't enough. He pulled out of her, stepped back enough to clear her spreader bar, and pushed her over onto her back. Once again he kneeled. She watched as he positioned himself, but still gasped as he plunged into her again. "Deeper, please. Please!" she begged. "Pound my brain in with your cock!" She lifted the spreader bar by bending up her knees. The cold metal set him harder at his work, and the new angle allowed him to enter her more deeply. She set the bar at his ass. As he thrust, the bar dug into his buttocks, driving him further in.

It wasn't enough. The damn bed gave way. He needed to fuck her against something solid, and he told her so. "If I release you from the bar, will you behave?"

He was still screwing her as he spoke. "Yes, sir," she panted, "I will be—have." She moaned. He paused to free her ankles from the straps, letting the bar clatter to the floor. He snaked his arms beneath her, then lifted her in front of him. He took ten steps, colliding with the wall closest to them.

Both exclaimed as he pushed farther than ever into her chasm, and she shuddered as the first orgasm shook her to her core. He never lost stride, continued thrusting, rode her through wave after wave of orgasmic delight. Her grip against his shoulders slackened as she fell weaker and weaker in his arms. Her head now rested on his shoulder, her mouth turned toward his ear. "Cum inside me, please," she whispered. "It's my gift to you."

He bucked violently, spending himself inside her as a final wave broke within her. Their cum commingled in her tubes, but neither one moved until she finally uttered, "Thank you, sir" into his ear. He slid them both to the floor.

Sweaty and sated, he slid the blindfold from her eyes. She blinked at the return of her fifth sense. He smiled at her. She returned with a sly grin. "Wow, you're good."

Laughter. "You, too."