Wicked Manhattan

After their rather eventful dinner, Synthia was more than half-tempted to instruct the taxi driver to take the two of them back to their hotel rather than to the theater; she was still so aroused that what she really wanted at the moment was to be taken several times by her Master, the first hard and fast and explosive, and the second slower, lovingly, and more romantic, perhaps followed by a midnight snack and a pay-channel movie with playful cuddling.

However, she loved musicals, and she had never seen "Wicked", let alone performed on Broadway. She would exact her carnal revenge on him later; tonight, she was going to the theater!

"Wicked" was the untold musical story of the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda the Good, characters from "The Wizard of Oz" from before Dorothy was tornado-napped from her Kansas farmhouse. It was playing at the Gershwin Theatre on West 51st Street, a short distance from the restaurant.

They had arrived with a half-hour before curtain time, but most of that was taken by the entrance line. An usher showed them to their seats on the front mezzanine on the second level, where their seats permitted a sweeping view of the stage from the front part of the theater's first balcony. The seats were quite comparable to seats from the orchestra, and Synthia made a vow to herself to never ask him what the seats had cost, as she was quite sure she would disapprove of the extravagance; rather, she was determined to enjoy her treat thoroughly.

They snuggled as the lights dimmed, their escapade over dinner not nearly consigned to the past, but both of them delighting in the delayed gratification that an evening at the theater required.

Or did it...

The play began, and after awhile he felt her hand sneak under his jacket, which rested on his lap. Her eyes on the performance, she began a performance of her own, but only for him.

"What are you doing?" he whispered in her ear.

"What do you think I'm doing? Playing the violin?" she replied. "How hush, you. Not a sound."

Payback was indeed satisfying.

With the lights turned down, and all eyes on the stage, she slowly, agonizingly stroked his erect cock through his trousers. She loved the hardness of him, and the daring of the act; she had him in the palm of her hand, so to speak, and he was greatly deserving of both punishment and reward, so she had determined to give him both.

She loved the control she had over him, how she delightfully tormented him and he was helpless to prevent it, or even to show his pleasure.

When she decided he had suffered enough... she escalated.

Her hand unzipped the grey slacks he wore, and worked his cock free, until half his length was bare to her touch. Her fingers danced, and she leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Shame I can't use my pussy cream to lubricate... but if I could reach my pussy, I think I'd drag you into the hallway or the restaurant and fuck you blind..." she said, exulting in the shudder of excitement she felt in his cock. "I might even let you fuck my tight behind.... Master. " Taking her ass was one of those rare treats she allowed them both only when she was very excited; if it had been allowed, she'd have begged to be taken at the restaurant, any way her Master desired. She loved that moment of indecision she caused in him when she went down on all fours, lowering her head to her hands, spreading her legs wide at the knees, and offering herself up to his pleasure however he wanted... she loved it when he reamed her pussy inside-out from behind, and buried himself deep, to plant his seed deep into her. She loved feeling cherished, desired, owned by him, utterly possessed and then taken again and again.

His cock was quivering, and his breathing rough. He was close, she could tell. She slowed the pace of her hand on his aching cock, and leaned in to whisper again. "Wait for the song, Master... then if you make a noise, nobody will hear it...." she teased. She loved controlling his cock, and his orgasm. She would make him cum on her schedule, not his.

Finally, Mandy Gonzalez began "Defying Gravity", and Synthia decided that her Master had suffered for long enough. She leaned in again. "Growl for me" she whispered. "Now". She had not long to wait until he complied. She could feel his body coil, his muscles straining to remain still rather than express his release, and he leaned over and growled low and long, filled with anguish and exultation.

She loved the feeling of his cum jetting into her hand. When he had finished, she tucked him back in and carefully zipped him back up. Lifting her hand to her lips, she coated them with his cum, and then leaned over and kissed him on his lips. If he could not taste her, she would make him taste himself on her lips.

Revenge was slightly salty and bitter, regardless of how sweet it was!