More Than Friends

They had been friends a long time. ..For as long as she could remember. It was perfectly natural for him to invite her into the city to celebrate her birthday. Nothing fancy, just dinner with a friend.

She thought nothing of his offer to take her to replace her shoes. One of the heels had broken and she needed a pair to wear to dinner. She tried on several pairs and wore them for him. He gave the thumbs up to a pair of high heel black pumps. They enjoyed each others company, laughing and bantering as friends do. There was always an undertone of sexual tension but neither had acted on it. She trusted him so wasn't afraid to push him a bit.

"Thanks for the shoes," she said saucily as they walked toward the counter to pay.

He laughed. "You want me to pay for the shoes? Wait. Oh that's right, it's your birthday. Yes of course." He said that as he reached for his wallet. She was rather shocked that he pulled out his card to buy her shoes as she had been joking. They knew each other well enough for that. As he signed the slip, he looked up at her and said with a strange tone, "It is your birthday and you are right. You should have those shoes. You will wear them for me all night. And as it is your birthday, everything is on me. I make the decisions. You do as I say. You're the birthday girl and this is the new birthday rule." When she looked at him quizzically, he replied, "Do you trust me? If you do, then you know I wouldn't hurt you. So say you'll agree."

She thought for a second and she did trust him, "Ok. Tonight I will do as you say."

He smiled as he met her eyes. "Good girl." He slid his arm around her shoulders as they headed to catch a cab. The cab ride was spent in the company of a good friend as if he had never asked her anything unusual. At dinner, he was the solicitous gentleman. He always was. He was jovial almost anticipatory, she thought. She sensed something different but couldn't quite put her finger on it. Maybe it was just her imagination. The conversation was always quick and full of double entendres. They seemed to be always on the brink of taking their relationship to the next level, but they never made the leap. A glass of wine, good food and wonderful company left her relaxed and content and it showed in her eyes. After the waiter cleared the dinner dishes, he leaned forward and said, "Remember the shoes?"

She laughed and replied, "Yes. They are beautiful." To emphasize the point, she showed a little leg out from the side of the table. She was feeling a bit uninhibited. Perhaps it was the wine; perhaps is the company of a man she trusted. It didn't matter. She slid her foot against his leg and repeated, "Yes I do."

His gaze got dark as he met her eyes and said, "Then good. Go to the bathroom and remove your bra and panties. I want you to bring your panties back in your hand. Walk over to me, lean down and tell me you have obeyed and slide the panties in my jacket pocket. Then you may sit in your seat, and wait."

She was stunned. He wanted her to do what, she thought. The look in his eyes said he was completely serious. The challenge was unmistakable. Her mind ran quickly. If she didn't do as he said, she lost. She wasn't sure what she would lose, but she knew she would be the weaker and that didn't sit well with her at all. She was not a good loser. He knew that about her too, and now was testing her. She sat up a bit straighter, kept his gaze and rose from the table. "Please excuse me," she said as she reached for her purse. He acknowledged her by rising with her, true to his gentlemanly ways.

She walked out of the room with an air of lady-like determination. He wouldn't see her bend. Once in the bathroom, she leaned her back against the stall door and caught her breath. She wasn't sure where they were going with this, but she wasn't the one who would call chicken first. She unbuttoned her white blouse and unhooked her lacy bra. She slid it off and into her purse. Next she put foot up on the toilet and slid her panties down her legs. Collecting them in one hand, she noticed they were moist. She cringed, but there was no going back. She left the ladies room hoping anyone who noticed would think she had tissue in her hand.

It took all of her courage to walk into that dining room. She met his eyes and walked toward him, head held high, defiant almost, as she held her treasure in her hand. The walk became more provocative as she held his glance emboldened by his smoldering gaze. The feeling was not what she expected, rather it was surprisingly liberating. It was as if they shared a secret. The secret was that her obedience had made her stronger. The power she was about to give him made them both complete. She didn't understand it, but she knew he felt it too. She walked to his side of the table and bent down as instructed. She knew he was getting an unobstructed view of her tits, but never let on that was anything but ordinary. She could feel the cool air on her ass as she leaned down and whispered, "As requested." Her confidence was exploding by the minute as she turned and took the chair he pulled out. Her skirt slid up her thighs as she sat down but appeared oblivious.

He took his seat, and held her eyes as he slid his hand into his pocket. A smile began to appear and spread across face as he felt how wet her panties were. Not giving her any quarter, he stated the obvious, "They are wet." She couldn't help a blush that crept up her face and her eyes slid down to the table.

She couldn't meet his eyes, knowing that he was now aware of her desire. "Look at me," he said in a tone that made her eyes fly to his face.

"Your pussy is wet. You knew it. Now I know it," he said firmly. "Do not look away from me until I tell you. I will watch you as I please. Is that understood?"

She nodded her assent, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. The sexual tension was palatable. Under the table, he slid his feet in between her legs, pushing her legs apart. The table cloth prevented most eyes from a crotch shot, but she wasn't sure no one could see. She couldn't look away. She couldn't resist the look in his eyes as he held her legs apart with his. It was an assertion of his power. He knew it. She knew it. Now it was a test of her will to see if she could follow where he was leading. "Slide your hand under your skirt and play with your clit. Make the water in the glasses move," he ordered.

His eyes never released her as she slid her hand under her napkin, and under her skirt. She began to move her finger against her clit as he instructed. She could hear the ice tinkling in the glasses from her movements. Despite her best efforts, she could feel desire begin to build in her body. Her breathing changed as it built. She knew he was watching her masturbate. Her chest was heaving under her white cotton blouse, her eyes riveted to his as he watched. She was holding the moans because of where they were. The electricity was explosive.

At the moment when she began to question if she could cum silently in a room of strangers, the waiter appeared at the table. "May I get you anything further," the waiter asked them.

"Just the check," was his answer as the sexual energy began to ebb. She took a deep breath and noticed he did as well. He released her eyes and prepared to pay the dinner tab. Nothing was said between them in words, but the air was still charged.

He rose from the table and helped her to her feet and said, "Let's go." She wasn't sure where but it no longer mattered. He took her hand as they headed to the entrance where he called a cab. Her head was reeling. She had never experienced anything like that in her life. She was still attempting to process what had just happened as he opened the cab door for her.

"Thank you," she replied automatically, almost oblivious to her surroundings. She felt him next to her looked up in his face and that was her undoing. She knew he could see her desire, her wantonness, her sexual excitement, and he did.

"Kiss me," he ordered. She leaned up to kiss him and he said, "Noooo" grabbing her hair gently but firmly, pulling her across his lap. Her legs straddled him as she met his eyes. "Like this," he said, as her lips met his. She had never kissed him before but was not surprised at the sex she felt in his kiss. Nothing about him surprised her at this point, not his hands on her hips, sliding them up and down her thighs, periodically flashing glimpses of her ass to the cabbie. He slid his tongue into her waiting mouth, imitating the act they both knew would come. She welcomed it into her body. She forgot everything as their mouths danced in preparation for the intimate dance they would share later.

She hadn't even heard the address he had given the cabbie, so off balance was she. This didn't happen to her, ever. She was always in control, efficient and effective. Now she was gushing juices down her leg hoping his hand would slide down and touch her. She had never hungered for a man's touch the way she was now. She kissed him with a passion she had never known. He returned the passion with his own. It was as if he wanted to possess her. His mouth and tongue were unwavering in their seduction. His hands were sliding around to her pussy when the cab stopped. His erection was hard against her when the cab stopped.

Not sure how either of them got out of the cab with any dignity, if they even did, she took his proffered hand. He led her to an inconspicuous door as she tried to get a sense of where they were. Nothing was familiar she thought, as he knocked an odd series of knocks. The door opened, and he led her inside and down a dimly lit stairway to where music was playing. Through a few other sets of doors and they were in a club. She looked around and realized this was no ordinary club. People were in various stages of dress, or dressed in unusual outfits. She noticed the men in leather, the women in provocative leather outfits, men with men, men with women and many combinations thereof. He pulled her back against the bar, her feet between his legs and her ass firmly against his crotch. He slid his hand under her blouse and held her against him. He ordered a drink and while they waited, he began to draw sensuously on her stomach. She couldn't resist his hands as his fingers moved under her shirt. In a bar such as this, she knew no one would notice, but her breath hitched as his hand slid up against the bottom of her breasts.

The hand held her against his cock which she could now feel hard again against the crack of her ass. He began to whisper in her ear, "I'm going to take you home tonight and make you mine. I will fuck you and suck anyway or how or where I please. You will take my cock in your mouth, begging to suck my dick. I will fuck your pussy and I will own your ass. Your mouth, tits, pussy and ass will be mine for my pleasure. You will not waver in your desire to see to my sexual gratification. However I want you, I will have you."

She could only nod in agreement as the hot fire of his words hit her. Her hips began to move of their own will, teasing his cock, promising him her agreement, her body. She needed him, needed him with her soul. She wasn't sure what she needed; only that he had what she needed. They stood that way for a long time; he playing with her belly, she responding by rubbing her hips against his crotch in an ageless dance of seduction.

The club had many dark corners where patrons could participate in voyeurism or exhibitionism with whatever degree of anonymity they chose. He took her arm and led her to a now vacant nook and pulled her back against him. His arm brooked no resistance as he growled in her ear, "I will turn my back to the room. You will kneel in front of me, unzip my pants, and kiss my cock like it was your new best friend. When I tell you, you will suck it into your throat and give me head. If you don't do it correctly, I will adjust your actions by moving your head. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head to which he growled, "Say it."

"Yes, I understand," she replied, her voice shaking with the depth of her emotion and desire. He turned and so did she. In the back corner of a non-descript sex club, she knelt in front of him and took his totally erect dick out of his pants and began to kiss it. As she kissed up and down the shaft, she felt the liquid fire between her legs. She was hotter than she had ever been and returned the feeling by worshipping his cock, kissing it like the reverent object it was.

His next command was precise. "Suck," he ordered. She attacked his dick with gusto. She licked and sucked and sucked and licked until she could taste his pre-cum. She loved that he was as turned on as she. It encouraged her further to suck him, taking him in as deep in her throat as she could. He took her head at that point and began a rhythmic fucking of her face. She needed to cum and slid her hand under her skirt as if to play with herself. He pushed her hand away with his foot and kept fucking her wet mouth. When he had enough of her enthusiastic blow job, he held her head still as he pulled his hard cock from her mouth. He helped her to her feet and whispered, "Time to go my princess slut."

She barely remembered their exit or cab ride. He had her back across his lap and was playing with her pussy. She didn't care if the cabbie saw or the whole city for that matter. She just knew he was ravaging her body with one finger working her pussy and his other working her clit. She didn't notice the leer from the cabbie as she got out of the cab or that he got a full shot of her wet cunt courtesy of her partner. The men exchanged knowing smiles as each went their separate ways.

The elevator ride to his floor was dizzyingly fast. She knew she ached in a way she never had before. She thought she was ready for whatever the night might bring. Once in the door, they flung their coats and she was tearing at his clothes, when he grabbed her wrists gently but firmly and pulled them apart, effectively stopping the disrobing process.

"My slut princess," he cooed, "remember your promise to obey?'

"Yes," she stuttered.

"It begins now," he growled. She felt something rise in her throat at his words. She gulped and hoped he hadn't seen the fear in her eyes. But she knew he had. It was as if he could see her soul, her innermost private, dark thoughts. She had never seen this deeply controlled side of him. It was both intimidating as well as compelling. She felt drawn into him.

"Yes," she agreed with more confidence.

"On the counter," he commanded. "On your knees," he barked.

She nearly jumped on the counter in her haste to comply. "Spread your knees apart. Lock your fingers behind your neck," he ordered. She did as he instructed and waited. She watched as he leisurely took his time removing his coat, hanging it in the closet, attending to all those mundane tasks as if he had forgotten the half naked woman kneeling on his kitchen counter. He hadn't.; Not at all. He was relishing the tension he saw in her face, the open body language she was displaying for him. No, he was enjoying her submission. He knew she would take all he could give her and return it to him. He had known her for a long time, watched her search for what he would give her tonight in a myriad of failed relationships. He knew that ended tonight.

He walked over to the counter where she knelt. He reached over and grabbed a kitchen knife. With deliberate strokes, he cut the buttons open. He would never use the knife on her but he wanted to see that look in her eye go from fear to relief to trust. It empowered him. He flicked her blouse open and studied her naked breasts. Her hands behind her neck thrust them out almost begging for attention. He smiled as he began to caress them. He watched her intently, noting the breathing change from slow and rhythmic to a faster cadence as her desire increased. Not now. He would pleasure her later. Now she needed to see him take ownership of her body.

"Stand," he commanded. She stood somewhat shakily on his counter. "Keep those knees apart," he told her. This vantage point gave him an obstructed view of her pussy. This slow deliberate inspection was intentional. It was designed to humiliate her in away that accentuated his ownership. He knew she was watching him, and he didn't meet her eyes, to busy was he inspecting her.

"Remove your clothes," he ordered. She slid her shirt off and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to her knees. She stepped out of it, and stood there for a moment- naked but for her thigh highs and heels. "Leave them," he said as she started to bend to take them off.

"Now stand," he told her, as he began to run his hands up her legs. "Bend your knees and spread those legs further," he directed her, giving him a perfect view of her wide open pussy. He slid his hands up her thighs until he had that hot flesh in his hands. He didn't stroke it this time as she thought he would. Instead he parted her lips, inspecting the folds of her flesh, she felt like a horse being examined for purchase.

"Get on your hands and knees," he barked watching as her tremble as she knelt. "Turn your pussy toward me slut." She tried to hold her head high as she followed his directions.

She heard drawers opening as she knelt there, heard the water running, and nearly jumped off the table as she felt a cold cloth on her pussy. Humiliated and exposed she felt him use that cloth to clean her dripping cunt. "I am wiping your cunt, my slut because I can," he said to her. "I can do anything I want to this cunt. It is mine now. It pleases me to see you so open and exposed for me. Stay there," he ordered her.

She knelt there for what seemed like a long time as he rummaged in his kitchen drawers. Finally he seemed to find what he wanted because the room became silent. She felt his hands again on her pussy, spreading the lips wider if possible. She knew she was just rewetting all that he had cleaned. She couldn't see the smile on his face as he saw the same thing. Good, good, he thought.

He slid the narrow end of the turkey buster into her slick pussy. Her breath hissed as she felt something inanimate slide into her. He moved the tool around, enjoying the wet sounds her cunt made. "You are a true slut, my dear. Even a kitchen implement in my hand makes your pussy drip for me. He fucked her with it, watching it disappear into that warm place. "Do you know what sluts get?" he whispered into her ear. "The same thing all girls who are bad get," he purred just as the wooden spoon made contact with the cheeks of her ass. She nearly shot off the counter as he applied the spoon to her ass and fucked her with the baster.

"Hold still and it will be over faster," he said as he administered her first spanking. The baster would disappear into her right before the spoon made contact and he loved this sight. She was using every ounce of her strength to stay still while he showed her his pleasure. As her ass pinked, she relaxed a bit and absorbed the pain allowing him to witness her acceptance of his discipline.

He was ready to move on, as he grabbed a tea towel and tied it over her eyes. He grabbed her hair and pulled her upright, to signal this part was through. She kneeling before him, eyes covered, unable to see the delight in his eyes as he grabbed ice and smashed it on her burning ass. The cold from the ice hit the hot pink flesh and caused her gut to wrench as she tried to hold still. She knew she was on the counter and therefore was afraid to move for fear of falling. He chuckled at her body's reaction. He knew she would move. He had planned for it. He grabbed her hair again, this time forcing her back against him, making her depend on him to keep from falling. "What did I tell you about holding still," he said roughly in her ear.