The Emt

First of all, to my many readers who have requested a continuation of this story, here is my apology and reward for your patience. Several years ago, my life took an unexpected turn, and I found that I had no available time to continue with the erotic writing that I enjoyed so much. The following chapter of The EMT story was partially completed, but a combination of writer's block, lack of time, and flaming comments made it impossible for me to complete. I am now going through another change (between jobs), and decided to try again to get this story going.

If you are coming to this for the first time, there are 10 Chapters that precede this one.

My thanks to all of you for the very kind words that you have sent to my e-mail address. To those of you who get offended by stories about married couples who love each other, but nevertheless enjoy extending the boundaries of their sex life to include other partners, my usual message. This isn't for you. Read something else. If you read this, don't comment. If you comment, don't expect it to stop me doing it again.

I hope most of you enjoy, and I really do appreciate hearing from you.

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"That was incredible!" he said, and Suzanne smiled at him and nodded her head in agreement. She sat up and reached for her glass of champagne, now much less bubbly, and offered him some, which he gratefully took before she drank deeply from the same glass. Squeezing his shoulder to indicate he should remain where he was and recover, Suzanne rose from the couch on wobbly legs and padded naked through to the bedroom and her bathroom. Tim finished the champagne and closed his eyes and remembered the incredible events of the last few hours, a smile of complete satisfaction on his face.

An instant, or fifteen minutes later, Tim was awoken by the sound of Suzanne's slippers clicking back into the room. He hadn't moved, and it took a second or two for him to remember where he was. He turned to look at Suzanne, and his heart stopped. She had tidied and cleaned herself up and had slipped her wedding night negligee over her naked body. For the second time in a week or so, she stood completely revealed in the diaphanous nothingness of this garment before a man who was not her husband. She knew she looked stunning, and she stunned Tim with the view she presented. She walked silently over to him, helped him up from the floor and sat him in one of the armchairs, before kneeling at his feet and looking into his eyes, his soft naked cock just a foot in front of her angelic face.

"Now Sir," she asked, "is there anything else this submissive little slut can do for you?"

The EMT -- Chapter Eleven

Suzanne woke up to the sound of the telephone ringing incessantly at the side of her bed, and as she automatically reached across for the 'phone, her brain started to register a number of things that were wrong.

First, the ring wasn't right, and the phone was on the wrong side of the bed -- she rolled the other way. Second, she was on the wrong side of the bed, and she was alone. Third, this wasn't her room. Fourth, parts of her body ached or were sore. Fifth, this bed was WONDERFUL; a soft mattress that seemed to cocoon her, a clean white cotton duvet that was like a warm bath, and fluffy pillows that cradled her head. Her growing awareness felt like it was being cosseted in a starched cotton-wool cloud.

All these things she noticed before her hand grasped the unfamiliar headset and brought it to her ear. She remembered where she was just as she heard Graham Leicester's voice speaking quietly to her. Then she remembered that it was Graham Leicester's voice. Then she heard what he was saying to her.

"Good morning Suzanne. I trust that you have slept well."

Suzanne stammered out a "Good morning" and realised that she had slept like a baby. She felt wonderfully rested and comforted in the large bed, which was still cradling her in such luxury. Then she remembered who she was talking to, and quickly added, "I have rested very well, thank you Sir."

"I'm glad to hear it Suzanne. I look forward to seeing you later today and hearing all about your adventures of last evening. I hope that everything was a success?"

The interrogative was clear from his intonation, and Suzanne had to concentrate to think of the answer, her brain was still so fuddled by the deep sleep from which she was still emerging. Eventually she realised what he was asking, and the events of the evening before were suddenly as clear as if illuminated by a flash of lightening on a dark night. The colour rose immediately to her cheeks as she remembered now why parts of her body were sore, and why she had slept so well. She stammered an answer.

"Ye..yes Sir. I believe that last night was, uhhm, quite, no, err very, or even totally successful. I'm sure that Mr Truman would say the same thing Sir."

"I never had any doubts Suzanne, but don't tell me now, save it for when you get back this afternoon. Ian and I will be patient until then. You are to meet Karl for breakfast in exactly one hour, don't keep him waiting."

The line went dead with a click and buzzed against her ear. She was in a dazed daydream as the events of the previous evening continued to come back to her, each remembrance shocking her in the cold light of day. She couldn't believe how she had behaved - her, until very recently a loving, caring, faithful wife, and a doting mother. When she thought of Clare, her hands came up and covered her face with guilty shock, as if she was hiding from the world; she realised she hadn't given her daughter a single thought since going down with Karl Solomon to meet and have dinner with Tim Truman the night before, not even when she had finally climbed exhausted into bed after saying good night to Tim at her hotel suite door. And the way she had behaved, had encouraged him to behave -- she couldn't believe it of herself. She was brought back to earth as the buzzing in her ear became suddenly silent, to be replaced by a tinny voice which said, "Please replace the handset. Please replace the handset." She put the 'phone down, checked the clock, and then lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes to remember.

She remembered being put into an embarrassing situation as she sat with Tim after dinner, and of being made to confess to Tim that she had a mysterious Master who had ordered her to do whatever Tim demanded of her (without letting Tim know that her Master was actually her boss, Graham Leicester). She remembered bringing Tim back to her suite, of being made to undress, and their first frantic lovemaking, which had resulted in their each achieving powerful orgasms. It was her subsequent behaviour that really surprised her. She started to think back through the events in the order in which they occurred.

She had left Tim in the living room / study, sitting naked and satisfied on the floor, and padded naked into her bathroom, feeling his cum starting to leak from her. She had looked at herself in the mirror in the immediate afterglow of her passion, and had seen a different woman look back at her; a sensuous, wanton woman that she had barely recognised from the quiet housewife of a few days earlier. For a few seconds, she had wondered what was becoming of her. She then remembered how she had reached out for tissues to wipe herself, and then had changed her mind and drawn back her hand. She had reached between her own legs to feel the sticky wet residue of her lovemaking with her own smooth fingers, and, exploring herself, her own smooth lips of her still gaping pussy, started again to feel her passion rising, her resistance melting. The same thoughts that had excited her when she had submitted to Tim, when she had wanted him to possess her, to use her, had started to impinge on her again. She hadn't been finished, and she'd known it. She had wanted to give more. All this came back to her as she relived the events of the night before.

She remembered sitting down naked on the side of the bath and opening her legs and looking at the inflamed lips of her sex, fascinated with the sight, removed from it as if she was examining another person. She had let her fingers play there, her eyes watching the effect they made, her head full of the feelings of surrender and submission that were so new and sometimes frightening for her. She had seen her own juices, and Tim's escaping spent semen making her lips glisten, leaving trailing strands behind her probing fingers, as they had stroked and pulled and caressed her. She had thought of Graham Leicester and the power he seemed to have over her, and she remembered the pleasure she got from submitting to him, allowing him to take all decisions about her, of being his sex slave, an object.

Then she had felt guilt and remorse at her own behaviour. At the same time that she revelled in her new self, her old self interposed and questioned the morality of what she was doing; what her and Ian were doing; what she and Tim had done. She was utterly shocked at the dangerous dive that she had taken. But she was excited. Visions of old black and white movies sprang into her head, where some vaguely remembered character listened first to an imaginary angel and then to an imaginary devil, personifications of conscience, first promoted the good and then promoted the evil. For an instant, she was diverted by the challenge of remembering which film had contained the scene; a dichotomy between the dark and the light, but even through this self-doubt and questioning, her fingers kept stroking, stoking the devil in her. Evil started to win out.

She'd suddenly had a desire to be dirtier, to submit further, and to be abused and used more than she already had. She had seen a large gob of sticky cum start to slip from her opening, and she had quickly reached for it and caught it with her fingers. Remembering the need she had felt to submit, how it had welled up inside her, made her blush again as she remembered how she had found herself reaching her spunk covered fingers towards her mouth, where she slowly and deliberately tasted them, closing her eyes with the pleasure of submission as she licked up the thick globule she had caught, savouring it in her mouth, feeling its silky richness, swallowing it with relish.

Her hand had returned to her pussy, her ring and index fingers sliding down either side of her slick lips whilst her middle finger teased her hard clitoris, rubbing and gently flicking it, before pressing hard against it, rotating it in the way that only she knew how. It had taken her only a few seconds to start another little orgasm rolling through her, the taste of spunk in her mouth, a quiet moan escaping from her lips, thinking how she loved being the plaything of Graham Leicester. The predominant thought in her mind as she came was the fervent hope that he would make her more of his slave and slut; that he would continue controlling her descent into depravity, that her descent would be complete, that she would be forced to endure more than she had even dreamt of.

A few seconds after she came in the bathroom she had resisted the temptation to repeat the experience of making herself come, knowing that she wanted to go the extra mile with Tim who was still quiet and alone in the room next door. She wondered what Graham would want her to do, and she made her decision on that basis.

She washed herself, tidied up her make-up and her hair, ran her hands sensuously down her body and walked naked into the bedroom. Her wedding night negligee was lying on the bed where she had left it when unpacking earlier. Graham had been specific in asking her to take it with her. She picked it up and slipped it over her head, looking at herself in the mirror again, and feeling the delicious thrill of knowledge that she was about to offer a virtual stranger a rare and precious gift; herself. She walked back into the lounge / study area, where she saw Tim awake from a doze as she stepped towards him.

His face had been a picture as he saw her, her fantastic figure visible through the transparent material of her flowing nightdress. She had helped him up and moved him to the chair, and then knelt at his feet, the negligee falling silently around her, and she had looked into his eyes and said the words she had prepared in the bathroom, the words that had been designed to invite his further abuse of her.

"Now Sir, is there anything else that this submissive little slut can do for you?"

The effect had been electric on both of them. She had felt so intensely dirty inviting him to use her like that. Tim had looked at her quizzically, and his until then flaccid cock had immediately stirred.

"Can I really ask for anything I wish?" he had asked, and she had delighted in answering.

"Anything at all," she had told him, "Well almost anything. There are no limits except one. If you ask for it, I will let you know it is not possible." She had thrilled at the secret knowledge that Graham Leicester had already reserved her ass for his exclusive use, even banning her husband from using her that way, and she looked forward to Graham exercising that privilege in the fullness of time. At the same time, she found the whole concept of inviting Tim's abuse amazingly liberating. It didn't taken Tim long to think about what he wanted to do with her.

"I have always wanted to spank a beautiful girl's bottom," he admitted with a schoolboyish grin; a quick thrill of excitement ran through Suzanne's body. When Graham had spanked her days before, a single hard slap, it had thrilled her and she had wanted more. When her husband Ian had playfully spanked her in the past, she had often found it interesting, and wondered what it would be like to be the subject of a more serious attack; Ian had really only lightly slapped her bottom playfully. Now it looked like she might find out for herself. Her sudden excitement caused a lump to rise in her throat, and she looked up at Tim expectantly.

Tim saw and recognised the look in her eyes. He was amazed. This beautiful creature obviously wanted him to spank her. His cock was already growing.

"Lie across my knees" he demanded, with more confidence than he actually felt; this was a first for him as well. Suzanne caught the uncertainty in his voice, and for her own sake hoped he would grow in confidence. She quickly rose as he slid forward on the chair, and she did as ordered, lying across his lap, feeling his stiffening cock growing beneath her belly. Without being told, she reached forwards and placed her hands on the floor on the other side of him.

Tim looked at the sight before him. Suzanne's see-through negligee was stretched across her back, revealing the perfect orbs of her naked ass to him, the sexy dimples in the small of her back just above. He couldn't resist reaching out with his right hand, curving the hand over her curvaceous bottom, stroking the flesh of her ass cheeks through the thin material of her negligee, and feeling the tension that was within her. As his hand moved across her he stretched the flesh of her ass, watching the two globes separate and come together as he enjoyed the feel of her.

Suzanne felt his sensuous caress, knowing how exciting this must be for him, feeling his excitement growing beneath her, and being excited by that in her turn. She was acutely aware of the skin of her bottom, which appeared to have grown in sensitivity, with the heat from his hand as it caressed her. She caught her breath as he reached down to grasp the hem of her negligee and to lift it up to her waist, exposing the naked flesh of her ass to the cool of the room. Once again, he caressed her lovingly, the tips of his fingers occasionally slipping between the crack of her ass to skim lightly over her puckered bud or soaking lips. But his words belied his gentle touch.

"I am going to give you six slaps on each cheek," he copied the words he remembered from the hard-core spanking clips he had seen on the internet, and which had excited his latent interest in this activity. "They will be hard. I want you to count each stroke for me." As he spoke to her his excitement and anticipation grew. "I am sure that your Master will want you to take this from me on his behalf." Tim wanted to remind her that she was under orders from her Master; the reminder did more than he hoped.

"Thank you Sir" said Suzanne, and for good measure, and because she so much wanted this to be a real test of her growing submission, she added, "I am sure that my Master would want you to be hard with me Sir". Again Tim's cock swelled with her words, although he was not aware of the rush of excitement that Suzanne felt in saying them to him.

Tim felt over her ass again, both cheeks, raising the tension, before he raised his arm above her, delaying for a split second, before bringing his hand down hard across her right cheek with a very loud crack. The slap actually stung Tim's palm, and he saw the immediate reaction of a red hand shaped mark appear on Suzanne's tanned bottom.

The breath was expelled from Suzanne's lungs as the slap landed, and she winced with the sudden pain, the muscles in her buttocks clenching in reaction, but she gritted her teeth and after a second or two, the immediate shock decreased, leaving a stinging burning pain as the blood rushed to the area, and her muscles again relaxed into their normal state, with an occasional tremor of reaction.

"One, thank you Sir" she said as bravely as she could. She felt the muscles of her cunt contract involuntarily with the excitement that she felt being in such a submissive and exposed position.

The hand rose again, paused, and descended with equal force on the left cheek, with similar results.

"Two, thank you Sir" said Suzanne after a brief pause to catch her breath again. Now both cheeks were stinging and red. Before continuing, Tim took time to slide his hands over her ass, feeling the warmth as it grew under her skin. Again, he took the opportunity to explore the wetness between her legs, and was gratified to discover that she was getting even more moist. It was clear to him that she was enjoying his rough treatment of her, and the thrill of his power over her coursed through him, swelling his cock to full erection.

For Suzanne's part, she tried desperately to analyse her reaction, although clear and logical thought was difficult for her in the depth of her submissive passion. It wasn't the pain itself that was exciting her; the pain was pain. It was the welcoming of it; the enduring of it, the submission to it that was exciting for her. She wanted to endure it for Tim and for Graham and for Ian. She waited for the next blows. They soon came.

The second blows on each cheek were equally hard, but with greater effect, landing as they did on the already bruised and tender flesh. Suzanne found it impossible to keep still after his palm landed so stingingly on each cheek, and instead found herself wriggling on Tim's lap until the initial reaction had died down, further stimulating his cock with her movements, until she was able to count aloud the blows as instructed. After each pair of blows, Tim stroked his hand across the complaining flesh of her ass, a soothing caress that Suzanne quickly learnt to enjoy as a respite from the searing pain, a chance to collect herself even whilst waiting for the inevitable next round.

At last, Suzanne took the final pair of stinging slaps. Whilst the blows had stayed constant in force, each round had relied on the previous punishment to escalate the effect on Suzanne, and she found that she had tears in her eyes when she was able to say, "Twelve, thank you Sir." Her head dropped, and her breath came in short gasps, and she felt her ass cheeks burning. It was the most severe and prolonged beating she had ever taken, either as a girl or as a woman, and she was mightily relieved that it was over. She felt a flush of pride in her endurance, and a squirm of pleasure as she felt Tim's cool left hand reach down to caress and smooth over her burning skin.