Challenge 08 - Monica Performs

This chapter explores concepts of submission and sexual ownership. If that is a problem for you then perhaps leave this one alone. Our heroine is exploring her boundaries.

"Yeah baby - I'm seeing why you sent me them pictures. Them white titties of yours are looking damn fine. Hoping we got it done the natural way!"

His voice came through her phone speaker and she knew what he meant by 'the natural way'. This was the man she called Plug. She called him that because she didn't actually know his real name. She also called him that because he had a cock that wasn't so very long but was very, very, thick. It filled a woman up good and she could testify to that from experience. She might not know his real name but she had been fucked by Plug in the back-room of his friend's store. She touched the button that started her camera.

"Oh yeah - I'm seeing the link-up now. Damn but I love technology. Them titties look even better with a bit of jiggle on them. Show me sweet thing - show this old Black man a damn fine pair of white titties."

Plug probably did count as an old man. He was very much older than Monica was. However, he did not fuck like an old man. He fucked like a man who really knew how to fuck and he had a line in dirty talk that Monica found both amusing and exciting. Like that reference to the 'natural way' Plug was saying that he hoped he had got her pregnant and that her titties had grown because they were swelling with milk to feed the Black baby in her belly.

Except that he almost certainly believed no such thing. He just wanted to say it and he wanted her to hear it. He wanted to plant that metaphorical seed because he wanted to think that, in time, it might just turn into the real deal. Monica felt a frisson run over her and then a little wave of heat. The idea was not one she seriously contemplated but as a fantasy it was hot. Giving herself to her Black men and proving it just as nature intended. There was something primal about that - something fierce and powerful. She knew that a lot of Black guys really got off on the idea - Plug was just a little more vocal about it than most and she liked that about him.

She gave him a big smile into the camera and eased herself up and down on her chair. Just enough to create that little jiggle Plug was craving. It still wasn't entirely familiar to feel her breasts move in the way that they now did. There was just a little extra weight to match that extra fullness. Every time she felt that weight it reminded her of what she had done just to please her Black men. It also reminded her that she didn't regret it one little bit.

"Fuck yeah - thass right. See what you done to this old Black man. Showing off them big new titties of yours..."

On her own screen she could see his end of the link. A hard Black cock of course. Men always thought that women wanted to look at cocks. Ah well - whatever made Plug happy. She much preferred his words. They did more for her than any image could.

"So tell me girl - did I save you some money? That belly filling up same as them big ol' titties?"

She giggled at his persistence and reflected that he'd enjoy the little jiggle that created too. "Sorry Plug but these are all the work of Dr Nikola. I guess maybe you might be a little old to be able to get the job done." She sent him an exaggeratedly sad facial expression down the camera lens.

Some men would not have reacted well to that. However, she knew Plug despite their having met in person only twice. His laugh was genuine and his reaction totally predictable.

"Oh yeah girl? You want to roll the dice? Dump them pills and get your sweet white ass over here. I'll show you this old nigga got everything needed to knock your cracka ass up. Take them fine expensive shoes off you too. Keep you round my place barefoot and pregnant. See how them titties look even bigger when they full of milk."

That was the thing. Even when her guys approved that didn't necessarily mean they were satisfied. She held up her breasts to the camera - playfully taunting Plug.

"Can't do that Plug sorry - and you know why."

"What the fuck? You know you wanting more of this!" He waggled his hard Black cock at his own camera. That looked even more ridiculous but Monica was careful not to laugh. Even easy-going Plug might take offence to that.

Plug mercifully returned the camera to his face. "You got that big old toy of yours and some lube. Show me if them titties big enough for the job now!"

He meant her 'Julius Flint II' of course - modelled after the remarkable cock of the well-known African-American porn actor. His cock was much longer than Plug's but less thick. Visually she probably preferred Julius but Plug felt really good when he fucked her. Could Flint feel better than that? She hadn't had the chance to find out but she was pretty sure that one day soon that would change.

She took some lube and spread it over the toy. Then she pushed it up between her tits. Let the long shaft slide up and down between her tits, the tip emerging from her cleavage. It was a little awkward. She had one hand on the toy and that only left one to hold her breasts. The latter job would be a lot easier with both hands. She pushed the toy up a little further and stuck out her tongue to lick its end.

"Fuck yeah! I'm needing to have some of that!!" Plug was enjoying the show a lot - she could hear that in his voice.

"Sorry Plug," she repeated, "you know I can't do that!"

"Fuck it girl - what you raining on my fucking parade for. Why the fuck can't you come over here so I can fuck them damn fine white titties?"

"You know that Plug. You told me that the next time you saw me you were going to fuck my big round ass. There's just no way that I can take that huge dick of yours back there. Sorry!"

"Oh fuck," Plug's voice was scornful, "that all that's worrying ya? You can take it with a little practise but we can give that a rain-delay for the moment. We can think of something else you can do for me. Anyways you need to get them big titties over here and quick."

Plug was pushing forty years her senior and he wouldn't be getting any male-modelling jobs anytime soon. Monica was a beautiful red-headed young woman of 24 who made very good money as a webcam performer. Not to mention her other, original, identity as Heather Cameron with all that entailed in terms of background, wealth and privilege. It was ridiculous that a man like Plug would be making conditions before he allowed her to come around so that he could fuck her. Absolutely ridiculous. However, Monica knew how much she enjoyed the scenario.

She had a pretty full diary what with her shows and other matters but they arranged to meet up on her next free day.

***

"Ah!"

Monica gave a little gasp as the cold metal jaws of the clip closed on her erect nipple. She moved instinctively but that only secured a loud rattle from the short chains holding her to the wall in Izeye's studio-cum-dungeon.

Izeye was a master of these things. The lighting, the cool of the metal clips, the tendency of the chains to rattle - none of these things were accidental. They were all designed to play well on camera. Which was also why he was concentrating on her nipples. She knew how good they looked on cam and he knew just how sensitive they were. He didn't have to do much to get a reaction and that reaction might be sparked by pain but the pain was only very fleeting. Then it was replaced by something else - a warm feeling that was caused and then maintained by that stimulation.

The silver chain was attached to a long leather cuff, tightened by straps and buckles that extended along each of her forearms. Izeye returned from his props desk with a second clip and soon that was attached to her other nipple. Each clip carried a small weight that pulled on her in an exquisite way halfway between discomfort and extreme sensitivity. This time Monica stifled her desire to vocalise. There was little point in that anyway since she was wearing a leather gag. However, the real reason was that she had realised such vocalisation was a release. Wasn't that why you wore a gag in the first place? She had no desire to seek release in any sense. Rather the idea was to build the sensations, to build the experience, to build the sensual reality.

She watched Izeye carefully. In part because she found him inordinately interesting but also because it came as second nature for her now to put on a good show. In bondage and a gag it was really only the eyes that were left as a means of communication. So now she looked upon him with open expressive eyes that displayed a mixture of concern and excitement.

She could move her head from side to side despite her collar. That was a broad metal band that was attached to the wall. It actually allowed her enough movement for reasonable comfort but it looked rather more formidable than it was. It merely made it blatantly obvious that she was going nowhere until Izeye was minded to release her.

Izeye had a small metal device with blunt spikes that he rolled across the skin of her thigh. It was not painful but it certainly stimulated the skin with the touch of cool metal. On the outer thigh it was noticeable but when Izeye moved onto her inner thighs it was something else. Izeye brought his bare hand to land with utter gentleness on her pale skin.

Monica shivered, unable to stop her breath issuing harsh and jagged past the gag in her mouth. For the first time she saw a ghost of a smile on Izeye's lips. He traced his finger tips across her exposed skin. Stood up against the wall her belly was taut and flat. She felt every movement of his hand and sometimes despite her collar she could watch him too. The incredibly arousing contrast of his dark fingers against her exposed and vulnerable pale skin. She didn't know what it did for Izeye's audience but she knew what it was doing to her and by looking into his eyes she knew what it did for Izeye too. She knew that he wanted her and she knew that he could have her whenever he wanted and that didn't make the situation any the less spectacular for her.

He toyed very gently with her navel piercing, the enamelled symbol that he had earlier attached to the original small ring there. He had given her a choice and she had been a little predictable perhaps but the idea of permanently wearing that infamous 'QOS' symbol was very exciting. She could always switch it out another time if she felt so inclined.

"You know what wearing this means don't you?" Izeye spoke for the first time since the show had begun. His voice was deep, rich, smooth chocolate. Monica felt her body react just to that sound - knew what this man could do to and for her. She was his.

The gag sort of precluded an answer on her part but Izeye provided one to his own question. "Means that any Black man seeing this will know that you are his for the asking. That sweet white pussy just gets wet and ready when you even see a Black man. Any Black man. That right Monica?"

She heard the rattle as his put down his metal device. Now his second hand was going into play and she couldn't stifle the moan when his fingers reached her pussy and found it just as wet and warm and ready as he had been suggesting. His fingers slid in easily and explored. Then he withdrew them and held them up before her eyes. Fingers wet with her own juices, fingers that proved her arousal.

"You haven't answered me Monica but we all know don't we? You are real easy for any Black man with a hard cock. That's right ain't it. You a little white ho for the brothas girl?"

His fingers were back playing and exploring.

"Hmmppphhh," was all the gag would allow her to say but the collar did allow a slight nod of her head.

"Yeah," said Izeye, "like we ain't all known that for a long time. Guess if I keep playing we gonna see this high-end whitebread piece of pussy squirt ain't we."

Monica's eyes opened wider and her little nod turned into an attempted shake of her head. No, no, no - she hadn't expected that. She had been told all about that little urban myth. She knew the truth behind it and she didn't want to be out here peeing in front of the cameras. That was disgusting and shaming and she did not want to go there.

"Hmmmppphhhh," she said and then repeated it twice.

"You shy," laughed Izeye, "you ain't never struck me as being shy. Still maybe we can think of something. He brought a finger up to touch the small weight hanging from her right nipple. Another little surge of sensation was sent through her body. He was playing with her, toying with her, because he knew that, in the end, she would give him what he wanted. Wasn't that what she was here for?

"I'll make a deal with you," said Izeye. "I'm gonna enjoy this sweet little white pussy and you can try not to squirt. Ain't that fair?" His eyes were on hers as his long dark fingers slid back into her.

Now Izeye taught her what a Black Master could do. His fingers and his tongue working on her pussy and clit - teasing and stimulating her. Then he was working her nipples and kissing on the pale skin of her shoulder. All the while with those long fingers exploring her. It was intense and Monica felt her body move in response to his ministrations. She was starting to get that almost out-of-body feeling that she sometimes got when it was really good. She wanted to gasp and cry out but the gag prevented that and anyway that wasn't what she was here for. She was here to be taken to the limit.

Now his mouth was at her ear. "Are you going to give me what I want? Are you going to prove what a nasty little white whore you can be? Just like I want you to. Come on you little slut you now that's what you need to do. Once you done it you know it'll be easy next time. Just like blowing a Black guy, just like fucking a Black guy, just like getting fucked by lots of Black guys. Once you get started there'll be no stopping a dirty little 'ho you like you. Besides ain't you here to please the Black man? Well you know what this Black man wants to see."

She wasn't really thinking rationally at this point. Maybe if she could have pressed a button she might have given him what he wanted. Who could say? However, this instinct came from deep in her. Climax was good, better than good, but squirting was something else. That was fake and that was dirty.

Izeye didn't give up. He kept working her body, kept up the dirty talk, kept his mesmeric eyes locked on hers as she finally bucked against her restraints when the climax hit her and hit her hard. Wailing into the gag - issuing animalistic noises around the leather. Finally Izeye withdrew his fingers and left her sagging against her restraints, gasping for breath.

"OK - so I'll have to call in my partner - a specialist in these matters. Maybe downstairs already getting ready for their show later. Either way - you won't be going home till I get what I want."

Monica felt a shiver go through her as Izeye sent her a hard, dominating, glance. It was all for the cameras of course. Monica knew that she had her safe-word. She really didn't have to do anything that she didn't want to do. If she really asked him to release her and send her home then this man would do it. However, despite her unhappiness at the suggestion of squirting, especially squirting on camera, she was well aware that she had not used the safe-word. Even gagged Izeye had showed her a certain pattern of hand movements that she could make as a substitute. She hadn't tried to speak or to make those movements. Which meant all of her denials and her protests were all just so much hot air. In her heart she knew that and rather more importantly she knew that Izeye knew that too.

It didn't seem to matter though. Izeye had done his work and she had not given him what he wanted. Her sub-conscious was holding her back. At a very basic level it was something a respectable young woman didn't do. It was filthy and it really would make true all of those rude words that Izeye had been whispering in her ear.

Her Master didn't seem bothered. After making a phone call he had gone into his little back-room and emerged with a streaming cup of coffee. She could smell the aroma from where he was sitting on his throne-like chair. Izeye was watching her with a smile on his face - the smile of a man who knew he held the winning hand.

What trick did he hold up his sleeve? Monica again felt a shiver pass through her body, felt her nipples stiffen against those cruel metal clips. She understood that this was the main reason why she hadn't even considered using that safe-word. She wanted to know.

At that moment she heard the sound. The click of footwear on the stairway that led from the store above down into Izeye's studio. She knew that sound very well. The click of heels.

The young woman was about her own age or perhaps a year or two younger. She was 5'2 at the most and her figure was petite save for obviously enhanced breasts. Her skin-tone was pale and her hair was a brilliant platinum blonde. The hair colour was false too - a fact readily acknowledged by dark roots and curved teased eyebrows that retained their natural dark colour. She wore a short back dress edged in lace to cover her butt. The contrast only made her complexion seem paler. Her thighs were exposed and pale between lace and knee-high shiny black leather high-heeled boots. The heels were vicious, their height almost exaggerated by the petite nature of the young woman wearing them.

The outfit was very telling but no more telling than the expression on the young woman's face. Monica had seen it before. This was a professional and she enjoyed her work. Her mouth was a slash of vivid red lipstick and it smiled to reveal a line of perfect small teeth.

"Oh yes - I like her. Even cuter than that show of hers you sent me. Can I have her?"

Izeye gave a delighted little laugh. "She's called Monica and Monica this is Sophie my business partner."

"Mistress to you of course." Sophie's voice was one that Monica knew well. She had heard it all of her life. That accent of an educated New Englander. She could only be just out of College or maybe this was paying her tuition. The contrast with Izeye could not have been more stark. One was very White and the other very Black. One was petite and the other large. One was a truly mature male and the other a young woman. One thing united them though. As Sophie advanced on her Monica she saw that same look that she saw on Izeye. The look of total confidence and total command.

There was, however, one difference when Sophie drew close. As Monica noted Sophie did not bother to hide her frankly predatory delight in examining Monica from head to toe. Bright blue eyes taking in every inch of her. Sophie could afford to be more blatant. That look, yes it could only be called a predatory one, from a young woman like Sophie was incredibly sexy.

"Normally I only get to play with boys." Sophie pouted her bottom lip in an exaggerated manner. "It's such fun to have a girl to play with. Seriously - can I have her?"

"She belongs to Harley." That was Izeye who was watching with amusement from that throne of his. "However, you can maybe borrow her. So long as I get what I want."

"Oh that won't be a problem." Sophie's voice was dismissive. "Girls like Monica are easy once you have trained them a little. You'd like to be trained Monica?"

Monica didn't know what to answer and couldn't anyway courtesy of her gag. However, the disconcerted flicker of her eyes was enough for Sophie. The blonde woman laughed delightedly, a sliver tinkling laugh. In everything there was the impression that beneath the pretty feminine exterior there was a hard taskmistress.

"I really do like her." Sophie was up close now and her scarlet-painted finger-nails danced over Monica's exposed skin. Sophie paused and then reached up to loosen the gag and let it slip from Monica's mouth. Her skilled fingers released each of the nipple clamps and let then fall, with their little weights, to the ground. The release of the steel clips was a relief but also caused a last little jolt of pain. Monica gasped and as her mouth opened that of Sophie met it. Hard forceful young lips meeting her own and then pushing on to capture and suck Monica's tongue. An extreme intimacy demanded and as soon surrendered.