Inspiration Ch 03 1

DISCLAIMER from Author:

The acts of auto-erotic asphyxiation expressed in this story is not recommended to be performed under inexperienced circumstances. This is written by an experienced breath play fetishist and in no way gives encouragement to the inexperienced without them doing all necessary precautions including education.

This is pure erotica entertainment and is written for the purpose of enlightening others on the true nature of breath play, not the condemning ideals given by media and/or other means of poor representation from those focused on the death association which this author hereby detests and loathes.

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The car ride was quiet with exception to Rosangela giving instructions. She clearly read he was frustrated with her which she found a bit humorous. A prize moment that she managed to frustrate the famous Victor Hardway. She grinned the entire ride as he seemed to hold onto his stone cold serious face.

The Porsche parked behind another vehicle at a curb set before a line of old brownstone town homes.

Victor stared forward, clearly caught up in his frustrations with his so called inspiration with an angelic name but definitely a devilish demeanor.

"Well," Rosangela spoke up, "We're here."

He simply hummed in agreement, the engine still running.

Her grin broadened then she cleared her throat wanting him to look at her.

He refused to look at her.

Again she cleared her throat but louder.

He huffed then only shifted his eyes to look at her.

She gave him a questioning lift of her brows then said, "Well."

He replied, "Well what?"

"Well," she leaned, reached her hand over the shifter then dropped it against his thigh, "My three roommates have gone camping together for the weekend so I have the brownstone all to myself."

His eyes glanced at her hand then looked forward through the windshield. He said, "And."

She pouted her pierced bottom lip then asked, "Come on, do I really have to spell it out to you, Mr. Hardway?"

He again looked at her from the corner of his eyes, saw the suggestive glint in her eyes. His brow tensed, lines deepened.

She innocently tilted her head in question then reminded him, "You did say yes, am I correct or did you fib?"

He took a deep breath then did a controlled exhale.

She continued to pout, pulled her hand back then scolded, "Shame on you."

She undid her seat belt as she shook her head with disappointment then gathered up the hem of her dress firstly exposing her bare thighs. She stated, "I thought you quite possibly were a man of your word."

His head slowly turned with his eyes. His eyes shifted down as her hands continued to gather up the length of her dress hem.

She paused the lift of her dress, eyed him as his eyes were focused on where her hands were located. She stated, "And I went through all that trouble." then she hiked the dress at the left and exposed her left hip and ass cheek revealing that she had removed her panties. She commented, "Perhaps I was too presumptuous."

She lowered her dress and chimed, "My bad." she grabbed the door handle then sang, "Have a good night, Mr. Hardway, and thank you for dinner." She shoved the door open.

His lips briefly pressed together with frustration. He had never before been baited. Sure many have attempted but never succeeded. He always dangled the bait but for some damned reason the tables had turned because of her.

She climbed out the fancy car and slammed the door closed. She faced the brownstone, her grin wide then forward she marched on her platforms but stopped, damned buckle came loose again.

"Dammit," she cursed then lifted her heel and propped it against the first step of the brownstone. She heard the Porsche engine rev then die, her grin broadened.

Nearly angry, he got out his Porsche, slammed the door then hit the security button on the key chain. He stomped around the rear of the Porsche and paused the moment he saw her bent at the waist adjusting the strap of her heel.

Onto the curb he stepped then marched directly up behind her.

She tightened the buckle enough to make it into the brownstone, knew he was directly behind her. Remained bent over, she turned her head and peered at him. She quipped, "What ya doing?"

She watched him glare at her which prompted her to smile wide. She rose up then asked, "Changed your mind, huh?"

She turned and trotted up the steps while fetching the house key.

He huffed then followed her up the steps but was directly behind her as she unlocked the door.

She continued to grin, he practically breathed down her neck.

The lock clicked then inward went the door but inward went Rosangela too with a nearly rough shove.

She stumbled on her platforms and caught herself with the stair's balustrade. Her eyes were wide with surprise, had felt his hands give her the over the threshold shove.

The door slammed closed.

First her head turned followed by her body. Her head tilted, still stunned that he actually shoved her.

The foray light flipped on.

She blinked and watched him swiftly remove his trench coat and fedora then he hung them on the provided coat rack near the door. She questioned, "Was that really necessary?"

His head snapped her direction, he answered with a demand, "Tell me how you want me to fuck you." He removed his suit jacket, it too hung with the trench and fedora.

She regained her composure then snipped a question back, "In a hurry, are you?"

He left the coat rack, started to undo the cuffs of his button down. He asked in response, "So, you wish that I take my time fucking you?"

She gave him a 'duh' expression then commented, "Hey, you have to make it worth my while."

He stepped up to her, already started on the buttons of his shirt, and again demanded, "Then, I repeat, tell me how you want me to fuck you." he tugged the shirt from the belted waist of his trousers, "We now know you wish for me to take my time fucking you. What else?"

Well, she thought, everything he wrote in his books were pretty truthful in the male character's demeanor, obviously based off him.

She took a breath, decided she'd just let him take the lead with one stipulation. She stated, "Okay, however you wanna fuck me is fine just," she lifted her hand with her index finger raised, "I have one request. You yourself said one should tell someone what they desire, correct?"

He demanded, "Out with it."

She leaned back a bit against his snappy demanding tone. She only once tried to tell a partner what she wanted but it backfired when that individual became dumbfounded then left. But, before her was the master of erotica who obviously knew more than any damned other guy she ever attempted anything with.

He stood firm, his arms crossed over his slightly exposed smooth chest. His brows lifted, waited for her damned request.

"Okay," she nearly shouted then took a breath, "Okay, you may or may not have done this before, I don't know because I've never read it in your books."

His eyes narrowed then he snapped, "Quit stalling."

She gasped then denied, "Am not!" she slightly glared at him then stated, "Just I've never had this done to me by anyone before, I've done it to myself plenty. So, cut me some slack, would ya!"

He took a deep calm breath then calmly requested, "Tell me."

She took deep breath, closed her eyes, and blurted her request, "I want you to suffocate me while you fuck me."

He was somewhat surprised by her request. Yes, he's performed that fetish before but it was one that never made it into his books. Actually it had been some time since he performed auto-erotic asphyxiation.

His mind slightly trailed, tried to remember who it was he performed it on. Then it clicked. Yes, his inspiration for book five. Her name was Annalise but when he had done it, it was during her stint in bondage and he did it to get the expression he wanted.

Her eyes opened, heard nothing but silence. Her eyes frowned, his expression seemed as if he were lost in thought. She cleared her throat.

His eyes blinked then refocused on the inspiration before him.

"Well," she slightly grimaced, felt a rejection of some type about to occur, "Do you know what I'm talking about?"

He nodded, "Yes."

"Well?" she questioned, "Have you ever done it?"

He again nodded, "Yes."

She awkwardly said, "Okay."

He stated, "It's not a problem."

She repeated, still awkward, "Okay."

She cleared her throat, not sure what else to say then turned and brought a heel against the first step of the staircase. She started to say, "Follow..."

Suddenly, from behind she was grabbed. She had no time to respond before his hand clasped over her mouth then swiftly pinched off her nose. Her eyes were wide with undoubted surprise, hadn't expected it to begin that quick.

He pulled her off the stairs, held her back against him as he did as requested. Finally a grin formed over his lips, not his typical process but he approved.

He held his hand firm, felt her squirm, firstly she gave the fight response to the surprise by his swift action but it quickly shifted for he was giving exactly as she wanted.

He remembered the last time he tried that technique and poor Annalise got more so pissed at him than turned on. Noted, she was one of the seven inspirations he hadn't fucked.

That was what she wanted and just the sensation of having him suffocate her with his hand was enough to shift her directly into the building traffic of excitement. Her eyes rolled, the denial to breathe by someone else's doing was nearly intoxicating. Her body instinctively reacted, her hips excitedly shifted as his arm held her firmly back against him as they kept her arms pinned down. Her head was pressed back against his shoulder by the strength of his suffocating grip.

He felt the eager aroused shift of her hips which pressed her ass against the crotch of his trousers and hardening cock. He asked, "So am I doing as requested, Rosangela?" He felt her muffled hum of agreement against the palm of his firmly clasped hand. He listened to her gag on the suffocation yet a groan of pleasure followed.

He enjoyed asking questions when an answer couldn't be verbally given because of his actions and so he asked, "So, no one but you has done this, hmm?" he felt her head attempt to shake, "I'm honored you've given me this first."

He dropped his arm and swiftly gathered the length of her dress.

Her arms free, her hands instinctively darted and attempted to pry his hand from it's suffocating grip. She grunted, her still chest desperate for air. Then she released a muffled squeal the moment she felt his right hand firmly and fully grip over her heated pussy.

Yes, he loved the type of response she gave which prompted him to firmly massage his gripping against against her quite hot pussy and felt the obvious slick of her excitement.

He had to announce, "I'm going to do as your said, fuck you as I see fit but," he toyed and ceased the massage of her pussy, "As you said, I'm going to take my time." Momentarily he indulged in her whine for continuance through her grunt for air.

He released her, ended her suffocation and stimulation.

She loudly gasped the moment she was allowed to breathe. She swayed a bit, her legs weakened by the suffocation and excitement. A dazed grin formed over her lips, the lipstick smudged.

She again gasped the moment he spun her around, his hands grabbed the sides of her face then his lips crushed against hers. Her mind screamed, she was kissing Victor fucking Hardway!

He filled her mouth with his tongue, loved the touch from the labret piercing. He stepped forward which stumbled her backwards.

The last time he fucked was near a week ago with one his admiring "biggest fans" he hooked up with in his hotel room after another book signing. Yet, that fuck wasn't nearly as exciting as the one he was about to perform, for the young woman was less experienced with the way of fetishes and kinks.

The back of her heels bumped the stairs then she found herself down against the sprawl of the first several steps. Swiftly he was positioned between her legs, the crotch of his trousers the only thing separating her spread pussy and his hard cock. She felt him, through the crotch of his trousers, eagerly grind his cock against her pussy. She groaned through the intensity of his almost smothering kiss, her mouth suckled his exploring and probing tongue.

He reached between their bodies, strategically undid the buckle to his belt then with a jerk he pulled it from the loops of his trousers. He broke their kiss, rose on his knees then gathered here wrists and made swift work to snugly bind them. Once bound, he nearly slammed her arms back and above her head against the stairs.

Her body anxiously squirmed against the stairs, her hips uncontrollable as her pussy begged for more. She peered up at him, an eager grin across her lips. The intensity within his eyes heightened her arousal.

He leaned forward, kept her arms pinned down against the stairs, his hand tightly gripped the belt binding. With a slight motion he teased her slicked and ready pussy with firm pressure of his hard cock through the layer of his trousers and boxers. Then he clasped his right hand over her mouth, again pinched off her nose which sent her body into an excited frenzy. Very slowly he ground against her as her hips nearly fucked against him.

Teasingly he continued to shift his hips, very slowly rubbed cock through his trousers against her pussy. He kept his hand firm, felt each her puffed grunts. He studied how her eyes fluttered and rolled as he continued to suffocate her while slowly grinding his cock between her quivering thighs. Soon her hips were in perfect rhythm to his. With each deep press of his cock she grunted against the suffocation.

She was in heaven. Not only was her dream sex brought to life but being brought to life by the very author that helped her embrace her unique kinks. She never imagined the much older and more experienced Victor Hardway to be the first to ever suffocate her during sex. Only in her fantasies had she imagined anything remotely close which were always driven by his written word and art. Her fantasy had come to life.

Her chest heavily ached, barely a motion as her heart pounded like thunder in her ears as did each of her grunts. Her hands tightly fisted as her hips continued to move against each of his torturous slow deliveries of his pressed cock. She heard her grunts fade into whines that barely penetrated his firm suffocating grip.

His hand pulled back, she loudly gasped, her chest heaved upward as the air filled it. Then in the midst of another breath his lips were again against hers with his tongue deep passed her lips. She breathed heavily through her nose as she indulged in his powerful and dominating kiss.

He broke the kiss, his lips grazed against hers, felt her heavy breaths. His eyes focused within hers. The blue within her eyes seemed more intense from the effects of severe sex overload. His eyes shifted, studied the effects throughout her flushed features. If he had a sketch pad in hand he would have captured that perfect image.

He grinned then stated, "Now we go to your room." he grazed his lips against hers as he again firmly pressed himself between her thighs, "Then once in your room I'm going to truly fuck you just as you requested." he felt her lips brush against his as they formed a grin, "And the entire time I'm fucking you," he nudged himself firmer, felt her breath gasp against his lips, "I'll suffocate you in any way I want."

Sounded damned good to her. She grinned wider then within seconds he was on his feet and she was pulled onto hers. She was spun around, wrists still bound then there was a loud crack followed by an instant sting against her ass. She giggled then started up the stairs, her legs a bit wobbly.

At the top of the stairs she turned and moved for her bedroom door. With her bound hands she grabbed the doorknob then opened the door. Again she felt him give her a shove. Again she stumbled but managed to stop herself from tripping. She balanced on her platforms as the door slammed behind her.

Her head turned and eyes peered through the dangle of ringlets as he stripped off his undone shirt. Her brows lifted and she thought, damn he looked fucking amazing for near sixty, well maintained.

His eyes made a quick scan of her room then stopped directly on her. He inquired, "Where's your stash?" Oh, he knew fetishists well, they always kept a stash of their kinks hidden somewhere in their rooms.

She lifted her hands and awkwardly scratched her head.

His eyes narrowed then he ordered, "Tell me where you keep your stash."

She never told anyone about her fetish let alone told where she kept her supplies. Yet, he was different. She answered, "Under the bed."

He marched forward, snatched her by the upper arm then led her towards the full sized bed with an old metal bed frame. He stopped beside the bed, released her arm then knelt down, flipped up the dust ruffle and spotted a suitcase.

He pulled out the suitcase, rose up then lifted the suitcase atop the bed. One swift flip of the latches the lid was flipped up and there was her stash. His lips puckered with thought. What shall he do?

She stood there, watched as he eyed the contents of her suitcase; plenty plastic bags, different makeshift bindings to seal the bags, and a few handy vibrators. Her eyes curiously watched as he dipped his hand into her stash. Oh, yep, she thought, forgot about the handcuffs.

His hand snatched hold of a pretty expensive pair of steel handcuffs. He lifted the handcuffs out of the suitcase then tossed them onto the bed. He reached and undid the belt from around her wrists.

The belt undone and dropped, he demanded, "Take off your dress."

She smirked and gave him a suspicious eye with a slight tilt of her head. She smartly asked, "You've been dying to see my tits, haven't you?"

His expression was serious, always pure focus when it came to his expertise. He repeated but slower, "Take off your dress."

She continued to smirk, loved his demanding tone. Her eyes were locked with his as her hands reached behind her back and found the dainty zipper. Slowly she lowered zipper down to the top of the outward curve of her ass. She slowly slipped her arms from the spaghetti straps then dropped her arms and allowed the dress to simply fall around her ankles.

Her wide blue eyes watched as his heavenly dark brown eyes shifted slowly down. Yes, she praised, her rack was remarkable. She questioned, "Nice, am I right?"

Yes, he only agreed in thought, her tits were lovely, the perfect size and fullness for his creative process. He lifted his hands palms up, brought his fingertips at the start of her hips then grazed them upward. Over her slightly heaving ribs his fingertips upwardly trailed then moved up against the underside of her full tits.

She softly hummed, indulged in the light sensation of his artist fingertips tracing along the full shape of her tits. Her pale brown nipples grew erect the nearer he traced towards them.

She again hummed in response as he gathered his fingertips, nearly molded her nipples more erect. Then she somewhat startled the moment he roughly pinched and squeeze the very tips of her nipples.

He grinned, felt her flinch with a startled gasp. His eyes lifted, a devilish glint sparked within them. Again he roughly pinched her pretty little nipples which prompted his grin to twist with a sinisterly intrigued pucker. He enjoyed her little soft squeal.

His head tilted with a curious thought then he asked, "First time?"

Her wide eyes saw the amusement within his eyes. She nodded then answered, "Um, yeah."

Curiously his brows lifted. She wasn't as experienced as she portrayed or made him assume. Yes, she stated there were no actual partners who indulged in her fetishes but he at least assumed she might have done specific things on her own besides the obvious.