FANTASY: THE PLAYER
"Do you trust me?" He asked her, half-hidden in shadows. All she could really
see of him was his eyes. Cold, blue, like ice on the water.
"No." She said as she looked at him. "I trust no man in this world, but they
said you could help me."
"Who said?" He asked as she looked down at her hands. Away from him, and not
meeting his eyes.
"Lee at the leather shop. Can I smoke?" He nodded. Her hands trembled as she
opened her cigarette case. Pulling one out, then putting it between her lips.
She took a deep drag on it as she was lighting it. Smoke curling around her
head in the soft light. "I wasn't always like this." He leaned back further in
his leather chair, stretching out his legs. His long blonde hair hanging over
his eyes.
"What are you like?" He asked and his voice flowed caressingly over her like
warm butter.
"I don't take a lot of shit." She said, as her eyes flashed fire. She laughed
shortly, as he asked how this fantasy had started for her. "It started with a
man. One night he doesn't want me to move when he's fucking me, then suddenly
he's breaking a riding crop on my ass."
"You liked it." He said simply, smiling at her. Inexplicable tears welled in
her eyes and she stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray before her. Her
movements sharp, and impatient. He went to his knees in front of her and put
his large hands on her open thighs. She tensed with sudden fear. Eyes going
wide as they met his. Heat started coming from her legs and a deep muscle
trembling. "You liked it and you're ashamed of it." Gently his hands kneaded
her thighs. "Why should you feel guilty for the kind of sex you like?"
"It's not normal." Her breath was short, fast. Her voice tortured.
"You're very strong, but you can't control this." His hands moved up her
thighs. Her legs tried to jerk closer together. His hands moving under the
brightly colored skirt that she wore. Her skin was like an inferno. Fevered
heat flowing from the soft pliant flesh under his fingers. Easing up to the
apex of her womanhood, just skirting the pleasure place at the woman's core of
her. "What kind of fantasies do you have?" He asked, as he turned his eyes to
her lap. Concentrating on what he was doing to her body for a few precious
seconds. "Tell me. I won't tell anybody else." Running one of his digits up
the side of her cotton panties to rub the outside of her damp opening. Her eyes
had started to glaze over, her breathing grew ragged.
"I'm blindfolded and spread on a cold surface." He brushed against her wet
opening, touching it with the lightest of strokes. "He touches me, opening
every part of my body." She took a deep shuddering breath and forced herself to
continue around the rising knot of need inside her. Her words coming faster,
more urgently, as though a floodgate had been opened inside her. "He uses every
device that he has available to him. Beating me on the inside of my thighs, on
my legs." He understood her driving imperative words. He touched her lips
silencing her, pulling his hands away from her hungry orifice.
"That's a start, my dearest." He was now ready to take her. "I want to give
you what you need and in my service you will know complete satisfaction. The
standard rules apply here, as everywhere." She knew the rules. "You decide and
when you have. Go to that door. Knock and wait on your knees for me to come
for you. I'll take you to the dungeon." He left her then. Going out the oaken
door, leaving her in physical torment. Awash with aching blinding deprivation.
Her body, so long cold. Burning with excitement. Fervent passion. She did
what she wanted to do and knocked on the door.
He opened it, cupping her face from above her. This truly sensual novice that
had wandered into his care. He ran his hands over her face and turned from her.
She followed him to his dungeon. The room itself was painted black and was
meant to frighten. That was its purpose. It's reason for being. His `toys'
hung openly on the walls. The whips, paddles and bondage gear that were his
passion and his hobby. His life. Exploration of the extreme.
"Take your clothing off for me." She answered him respectfully, keeping her
eyes down. Her hotly blushing face expressionless. The light shirt then
flowered skirt, falling to the floor. She looked around discreetly as she
removed her underwear. Pulse pounding with trepidation and arousal. Noticing
the leather covered bench in the center of the room. The myriad beams and hooks
strategically placed for easy usage. The canvas sling in the corner and all the
toys hanging around the room. She kept her arms at her sides and her eyes down.
"Climb up on the table and spread your legs." Immediately she did it. Her feet
hanging off the end and her heavy breasts falling to the sides of her torso. He
leaned over and took some thick leather cuffs. Tying her to the table,
immobilized, helpless. Taking a leather gag and sealing her lips. Bending her
knees and tying them flat to the edges.
She burned with lust. Her skin so hot and moist, his hands practically stuck to
her muscles. Muscles that flexed helplessly against the bonds. Fear shadowing
her eyes for a brief moment. She did not trust him, but she would. Maybe
after the fourth or fifth orgasm. When her body was so sore and tired that it
responded by reflex alone.
He studied her coldly. Not smiling, deciding the best way to explore her. He
weighed her breasts with his hands. Palming them and pinching the nipples until
she groaned. No little toys, just his flesh abusing hers. Watching her head
roll helplessly on the black leather. Lovely.
Running his hands down her arms to the soft shaved flesh of her armpits making
her shiver. Over her ribcage softly, then the gently rounded curve of her
belly. Her hips struggling to remain still. Lightly moving to her dripping
cleft and leaning over the end of the table to look down at her sex. He opened
her folds, massaging the inside of her vagina with slow deliberate movements.
Her breath caught in her throat as he rolled the hard kernel of feeling with
maddening slowness. The thick moisture coating his fingers. Not enough for what
he wanted to do to her, so he lubed up his hand to the wrist. Massaging her
slick opening with three of his fingers. Watching her face change color and
expression, as he worked inside her tight flesh.
She felt him going into her so softly he could barely be felt. Just a sweet low
pressure that filled her deliciously. Easing the tension from every other part
of her body and concentrating it into her loins. Her respirations deepened and
flowed softly from her lungs. `Yes,' She thought. `Do me, just like this, then
beat me for my pleasure. Hurt me when I dare to release this passion against
your hands.' Her eyes closed in helpless response to his ministrations.
He saw and was pleased, adding the fourth finger to her opening. Hearing a low
animal moan and feeling her legs start to shake with reaction. He leaned up
over her to watch her. Pushing his thumb into his palm, so his hand was
smaller. Massaging her stomach and the inside of her thighs. She tensed
momentarily, but relaxed when he made low sibilant sounds to ease her fear.
Feeling her melt around his hand until it slid home, forming a fist that reached
all the way to her uterus. Her hips rose from the table with tension and he
simply stayed within her. He whispered as he leaned over her.
"I'm all the way in you. My whole hand. Can you feel me?" She nodded,
shuddering when he rocked his fist by the barest fraction. She pulled on the
cuffs holding her arms, and moaned. He looked at her red suffering face.
"Don't come, or let go of any bodily functions on my nice leather table. I can
feel the pressure on your insides. Suffer with it. Hold it, feel it grow more
uncomfortable. I want to rub your insides raw with this arm, then fuck the shit
out of you until you scream out loud enough to be heard upstairs." She arched
against the table when he started driving his arm inside her with sharp
piston-like motions. Motions that felt large to her, impossibly big. Yet was
in actuality only the depth of a millimeter or two. She fought against the
orgasm, flowing over her. Fought to control her passion and her pain. She went
rigid, almost pulse less. He ceased moving and she felt him pull from her
gently. She groaned, her whole attitude pleading with him to continue. `Don't
stop.' She rolled her hips and tried to pull free.
"Useless, my tender one." He wiped his hands on a towel and took a large headed
riding crop from the wall behind him. "I want you too orgasm. I'm going to beat
your clitoris with this crop until you do." She shook her head, vigorously. He
laughed at the shock blooming in her eyes. "Like you have a choice?" He swung
the whip softly, using light swings that were both rhythmic and accurately
placed. Talking to her as her hips went unbending and fixed in the air. Her
breath suspended. Face blood red and rolling helplessly. "You want to come and
you deserve the pain. The agony of the fist and the whip." He continued to tap
her clitoris with deeper, damper strokes. Her juices wetting the head of the
instrument of torture, making it sound soaked. Wetter and crueler, than dry
leather. "That's it, baby. Come for me. Hips in the air. Face flushed, body
pounding with excitement." She whimpered and he continued, deftly stroking her
passion higher to another level with his words and his hard punishing strokes.
"When you come, I stop hitting your little love button and fuck you. I promise
to give you more pleasure with my organ, or my tongue, than you can bear. Just
let it go for me and I'll show you." He could see it working on her and went
faster, upping the pace of his strokes. She was about to orgasm. He could see
it creeping over her body with a practiced eye. `Here it comes.' He thought
and he was right. She boiled over before him. She bucked, eyes closed. Teeth
clenching the gag between her hardened jaw as she attained her release. He
threw the whip away quickly and rubbed her slick cleft. Hearing the muffled cry
of pleasure from behind the gag. Pushing his fingers into her as she writhed in
her bonds. Drawing every bit of her orgasm from her until she was a limp
twitching wreck on the bench before him. Unable to catch her breath around the
tears running freely from her eyes.
He was oblivious to them, as he freed his organ from his pants. Climbing on top
of her to get himself off. Pushing seven inches of painfully hard organ into
her tender quivering opening. She screamed behind the gag, as her raw cleft
rebelled against his intrusion. Trying to free her hands, and thighs. Shaking
her head, no. He took her face in his hands and opened the gag. Pumping his
organ into her. Feeling his need rising to flood her. Taking her lips in his
and kissing her deeply. Her tongue moving to twine with his in little open
circles. The moans coming from her in gasps of pain. Wonderful to his ears.
Her flesh tightening around his as he expertly stroked the tender places deep
inside her. The head of his dick rubbing the g-spot at the top of her vagina
with practiced precision.
"You are so good, honey. Even in pain you did as I wanted and now I want
something else from you. Come again and I'll let you rest. One more for your
Master and I'll oil your sore little honey-mouth. Gently ease your aches and
pains." She shook her head, voice weak and trembling.
"I don't think I can." She whimpered against his throat. Her voice desperate
to please him, but not able too. He stroked her hair and leaned up on his
forearms. Hand moving to touch her clitoris.
"I'll help you do it. I want you too. I need you too. I want to come with you.
Fill your sweet sex with my man juice and watch it run from your cleft in a
steady stream." She let his words intoxicate her senses. Flow over her
thoughtlessly driven flesh. His thick organ a burning punishment that
tantalized, moving her inexorably to the brink of completion. "You'll come for
me, baby. Come on. It's okay too do it. I want you too. Need you too." Soft
words, and hard flesh. She let it go and while the release was less than the
last one. It moved her and him, to total completion. His organ jerking inside
her. His body going rigid in ecstasy. His sweaty flesh rubbing against hers.
His breath harsh in her ears and his moist kisses rough on her soft throat. His
hands clasping her firmly to his body.
The hard twitches of his organ becoming slower and more random. She could feel
his penis moving weakly inside her and opened her eyes into his. He smiled down
at her and spoke softly. His words heavy with meaning. "You're a player now
and I'm your Master." She nodded at him. Eyes wide and softly wet with tears.
"You'll come to love this life and I in turn, will love you." She turned her
face into her arm. "There's time for you to believe me and time for us to learn
the cycles of your flesh." She turned to his voice. Emotions in turmoil. "You
are mine." She spoke, voice heavy with truthful innocence. She smiled.
"Yes, I am."
I liked that one; at least my body did anyways. I didn't bother to close the
book, but I did lay the pen in the middle of it carefully. I sat in the library
with a silly grin on my face until Adam came in. I went immediately to my
knees.
"What were you doing?" He asked and I answered carefully.
"Writing in my journal, Handler." He went to the desk and sat where I had been
sitting. Reading the last few pages. He smiled and shook his head. His
fingers moving over the heavy page softly.
"Surrounded by all this erotic potential and you still think of variations on a
theme?" I shrugged negligently. `What could I possibly say?' The mind never
truly stops working. "We've only got a couple of hours before everyone arrives.
I have to get ready for tonight's activities." I looked up in curiosity. He
laughed, shaking his head. "Your head just does not stop does it?"
"No, Handler. I'm gifted that way." He chuckled. Motioning for me to follow
him. I did and we spent the next couple of hours getting ready for the big
event of the night.
