##### WARNING #####
(MF, M dom, bd, exhib) The following contains material of a sexually explicit nature. Do not read any further if you are under the legal age in the state/country in which you reside. This story is meant for ADULTS ONLY and is a work of fiction. If you’re not of legal age EXIT NOW.

COPYRIGHT story 1999/images 2002. As the authors/illustrators of the following story, we claim all rights in accordance with international copyright laws. These rights are claimed legally by us under the pseudonyms of Mark, Marie, Carl, Roxanne, LG & c. All rights are reserved, including the reproduction of it in any form on the net or elsewhere (except ASSTR) without the written permission of the copyright owners, who may be contacted by e-mailing nexuswilson@hotmail.com. Marie, Mark's partner at the time, joined him in writing this story, the first one that was written. It was also the first to be illustrated, although that was 3 years after it was written.

Kneeling at the front door, just clear of the doormat, I wonder yet again whether I have made a horrible mistake. I have carried out the instructions to the last detail. I am naked and facing away from the door, which is unlatched and will open with the slightest push from the hall outside. My blindfold is in position and I can see absolutely nothing. I know the strange collection of accessories he has requested are waiting in the specified places. I have been here 10 minutes now and my knees are starting to ache. I feel incredibly vulnerable, but my body is excited as never before, like being high on some sort of stimulating drug, my nerves ready to overload me with a mass of confused signals at the slightest input to my system. The combination of the cool air here in the hall and the excitement of anticipation has my nipples erect and I can feel that my pussy lips are engorged and swollen between my widely parted thighs, which are also starting to ache a little. I am just contemplating moving to a comfier position until he arrives when I here steps on the stairs outside. They are heavy, confident steps of a man who knows where he is going. He strides purposefully across the landing and I feel panic suddenly rise. Maybe it is not him, it could be anyone. I have few visitors but if one should happen by in this particular half hour it would hardly rate as the greatest coincidence of all time, would it. In a way that reminds me of tales of peoples lives flashing by their eyes in times of dire peril I see a thousand consequences of my foolishness in an instant, but it is done now, too late to escape the predicament into which I have put myself, and I seem to be rooted by fear anyway, my mind suddenly overloaded and unable to issue any concerted commands to my quivering limbs. In another instant I hear the sharp rap on the door which causes it to swing open wide, and feel the cool breath of air fall in from the hall over my exposed rear.

Carl & Roxanne
The door closed gently with that distinctive click of a yale going home. Then a second click as the security catch is engaged - that is worrying. Does he need the certainty that he will not be disturbed, or is he just concerned that I may have entrusted the key to a friend? The ensuing silence is long and drawn out. Does he like what he sees? I am on my knees, my bottom in the air, my knees spread as wide as I can reasonably manage, the tight rose bud of my anus is contracted in on itself while by contrast my pussy is gaping open, I know that the outer lips, the inner lips and the fold covering my clit are fully visible and available. Or is he just verifying that all the instruments and equipment are as he requested. Some, like the open pot of cold cream between my knees, are obvious in their uses but what of the piece of knicker elastic exactly my height in length and the nail clippers by my right hand that I had to borrow so unconvincingly from Paula in the flat upstairs. There is slight movement from behind, although with the blindfold I am uncertain as to exactly where he is. I can smell him, a faint smell of cloth with a slight tint of aftershave. Has my own personal hygiene been satisfactory, he was very precise in his instructions? Now there is another smell, more of an odour, neither pleasant nor unpleasant but definitely a human body. The silence continues and my tension ebbs and flows. If I concentrate hard enough I will be able to place him, he cannot be this close without my heightened senses picking up his presence. Got it - he is kneeling behind me, I can feel on the inside of my thighs a faint disturbance in the air which can only be his breathing. He must be close, examining my exposed buttocks, in fact he must be very close because I can feel the warmth radiating from his face on that very sensitive bridge between my pussy and my anus. If he is that close his tongue must be within inches of my most erogenous parts. I lower myself so that my face is on the carpet and my pussy is made more available to him. This brings my nipples into contact with the carpet and I move ever so slightly back and forth so that they are aroused even further - God I need a fuck. He must be able to see that my pussy is damp and the lips swollen in expectation of a touch, a lick, maybe even even forcible separation while he fills my body. The whole of my lower belly is aroused. Suddenly there are voices from the living room, two people, a man and a woman, but how? She is familiar as is the man, my God its Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. He has turned the TV on. The odour was him taking his shoes off, and now not only can I not see him, I can’t hear him move about above the sound of the TV either.

Mark & Marie
I now realise just how far my nerves have overloaded my rational thinking capacity. I had imagined and completely convinced myself that he was right behind me when in fact he was not even in the same room. Then I realise that this would actually be possible if more than one person is with me. My mind races back into overdrive, but I fight to be rational and remember that there were only one set of steps as he approached the door. I strain to hear what he is doing, but can hear nothing except the occasional closing of doors. He is obviously having a good look around the flat and it occurs to me that I do not find this in the least disturbing. Lord knows, I would be hopping mad if a friend, or even a relative, were to do that. My neck is starting to ache so I straighten a little to my original position as I ponder what this all tells me about my psyche. I am starting to feel decidedly cool out here in the hall, but that is nothing compared to the cold object suddenly placed in the small of my back. The shock almost makes me jump out of my skin, I never got even the slightest clue that he had returned, but I have no time to react further as a strong hand clamps onto my shoulder in a way that tells me in a split second that things are finally going to start happening!

Carl & Roxanne
The other hand is placed on the nape of my neck under my hair which, as instructed, is hanging loose. Slowly the hand travels up my neck gathering my hair so that it forms a ponytail. My head is pulled right back while the other hand gently pinches my nostrils, moves down to pull gently on my lower lip, then opens out to the points of my jaw. It pauses and then continues down my throat stroking it sensuously. My nipples harden again in anticipation but the hand goes no further, it squeezes my throat gently as if to assert its control while a voice underlines this by whispering “You will obey” in my ear. I nod mutely. The hand squeezes a little harder as if to emphasis the instruction and is withdrawn. The cold object is moved down my spine until it is balanced right on my coccyx. It leaves a cold trail and I can feel a trickle of liquid into the small of my back. It must be an ice cube taken from my freezer. The ice cube continues to melt, but now the flow is down into the crease between my buttocks. It is like a cold finger tracing a line. It moves in fits and starts, an inch and then a pause seeming to gather courage for the next stage, then another inch. I know that sooner or later it will drip on to the carpet. Will it by then be mixed with my own juices and maybe his also? The cold finger reaches my anus which contracts involuntarily but the feeling is exquisite and I want the ice cube rubbed against my rosebud. It is not and the finger continues its inexorable progress.

Mark & Marie
I am picturing it in my mind as the finger moves down to my wetness. I can see the damp folds of my flesh hanging brazenly open inviting his entrance to the pleasures awaiting within and the finger approaching from above. All I see in my mind is the disjointed finger and the strong hand that gripped my shoulder before and I cannot decide whether this is because that is all that matters presently or because I have no knowledge of the rest of him and lack the imagination to make the rest of him up. I push my sex up slightly to meet him and the flow of water is suddenly reversed, cold trickles running down over my hips making me shiver involuntarily. In an instant he takes advantage of my distraction and the finger plunges into me. I gasp, but respond immediately, clenching my inner muscles rhythmically in time with his thrusting fingers. The anticipation has been so great I can feel my orgasm building already, and now the ice cube is moving, sliding back to where I want it. A second finger joins the first and I can feel them not just thrusting, but bending and twisting, feeling the contours of my inner flesh, and it feels so good.
I start to pant and moan loudly as I approach the brink of ecstasy and just as I am about to race over the final hurdle he whips his fingers out and away. What the hell is he doing? Something fluffy, a bath-towel perhaps, is shoved between my legs and I strain back managing to rub myself on his arm but it is still not quite enough. All I can think of is getting my release but all thoughts are instantly dashed as ice cold water is thrown over me, crashing me back down to earth instantly. I collapse my face down and sob a quiet tear for my lost orgasm into the hall carpet.

Carl & Roxanne
I crouch low in silent misery, shocked, cold and my high state of arousal ebbing away. Into my private world a voice intrudes “What are you, a whore in heat, or a cry baby”? I take this as a rhetorical question until I receive a stinging slap on my buttocks and that voice again saying “I don’t expect to wait any longer for your answer”. The slap restarts the arousal process and I realise that I can either go forward or abort the whole idea and he will leave, but to go forward carries very submissive overtones. “A whore in heat” I hear myself say. I am roughly pulled to my feet and the towel that I had felt earlier is applied briskly and clinically to my body. First to my arms that I am instructed to raise over my head, then into my armpits and all the way down my back. “Turn around and spread your legs”. My feet are towelled dry, then up my legs where the soft texture of the towel teases the still swollen lips of my pussy. Nothing more than a few perfunctory pats into my crutch before my belly and finally my breasts, which seem to get rather more attention that absolutely necessary. My nipples start to extend again and by now must be about a third of an inch long. When I first joined the solicitor’s practice, of which I am now a respected partner, I was rudely called “Miss hat peg”. This hurt me and on cold days I used to cover my nipples with elastoplasts to stop them showing through my clothing. Nowadays I simply fold disposable tissues inside my bra.

My reverie is broken by the next instruction, “Hands behind your back”, which results in a restraint being attached to my wrists.
Some form of cord is attached to the restraint and passed down between my legs. As it is drawn through it connects the rosebud of my anus, to the lips of my pussy and then as it is drawn up in front to my clit as well. It is alternately pulled and relaxed and rather than falling away from my body it saws backward and forward across my clit, my pussy lips and my anus without ever losing contact. It is ecstasy and I can feel my lower belly come to life as these three erotic points combine to produce a flood of juices in my cunt. Of course it is the knicker elastic. Does he plan to lead me by it or is it to be attached somehow? My answer is swift in delivery.
My nipples explode with pain as clips are attached. Then my whole body lights up, every other erogenous zone flashes its own distinctive message, the spaces between my toes, behind my knees, that crease in my buttocks where my legs join my torso, the small of my back, my armpits, my neck, my ear lobes, the insides of my elbows and even my lower lip. However not only do the clips squeeze my nipples almost unbearably but I can feel them being dragged down and elongated by the elastic. I bend forward to reduce the tension on the elastic and at least reduce the pulling on my nipples. The elastic works its magic between my legs again and my juices run even more freely but for my pains I receive a stinging slap across my bum and the instruction to stand up straight and “behave like a whore in heat”.

Mark & Marie
Now I feel confusion. After all I am a respectable woman who knows little of how a whore in heat might behave, nothing more than I have gleaned from Hollywood films and the cheap romance novels. I wish I had taken the chance I had to see a blue movie at a boyfriends flat several years ago when I said no to protect my modesty and spent the next 3 months fantasising about what the people on the cover might have got up to if I had seen it. It probably was not as good as my imagination actually. It is so easy to imagine the rough mechanics but I am suddenly finding the subtleties of behaving like a whore in heat rather beyond me. I thought a whore usually laid down anyway? The moment is dragging on and, realising that I must do something, I thrust my chin and chest out and step swiftly round to face him, then forward until I bump into him. Having located him I move my body against his and, getting no negative response, become a little bolder, rubbing my breasts against his chest and lifting a thigh to rub into his crotch. The clamps on my nipples are making it rather painful but I can bear it and still concentrate on trying to feel how large his cock might be beneath his trousers, but they appear to be of thick material and although I can feel it my thigh is not sensitive enough to tell anything useful. I hear him tell me “Good” in slow satisfied tones into my ear, then he has pulled away and I am left stood proudly in the middle of the hall. For long seconds nothing happens and I cannot tell where he is over the TV. Suddenly the elastic pulls at my nipples and up into my sex, causing a bolt of sheer sensation to shoot through me. Instantly I realise he is pulling from the front and step forward, but he pulls again to keep me moving. It takes all my concentration to walk blindfolded without my arms for balance and I had lost track of which way I was pointing anyway. When we stop and I am able to think of other things than not falling over against the tugging pain on my nipples I am not sure where I am except that it is not still the hall or the lounge (no carpet). I suspect it is not the bedroom as most of the floor has a rug and what I am standing on is the smooth wood effect laminate that most of my flat is done out with.

Carl & Roxanne
The puzzle of my whereabouts resolves itself when the living room mantle clock strikes nine behind me. My first reaction is “has it only been half an hour since I first knelt inside the front door”? The second reaction is less comforting, the fact that the clock is behind me and the bare floor tell me that I am standing in the uncarpeted bay window overlooking the street. Though blindfolded I can determine that the lights are on, and if my memory serves me right I did not draw the curtains so I am in full view of the bus stop on the opposite side of the road. My tormentor senses my concern. “Not shy I hope” he whispers into my ear. “I thought we might wait for a bus”. I wait, the pain from my nipples intensifies, we wait some more. I can imagine how much they have been stretched, the pain gets worse and I am in conflict between the pain of my nipples and the arousal in my belly. Both are intensified by the involuntary movements of the elastic from the simple act of breathing. It is a dichotomy, I breath in, my breasts rise, the pain on my nipples increases with the tension in the elastic, this in turn stimulates my clit, pussy lips and anus. I breathe out, the pain on my nipples decreases slightly and the triumvirate between my legs are aroused again. Still no bus and the pain from my nipples is spreading so that the whole of my breasts are in agony, but I am determined not to show weakness. “He desires me” I argue, I know he is erect and men are remarkably lust driven, sooner or later he will want to open me up and slide his cock into me and when that happens I will trade my cunt for the clips being removed. He is more patient than I imagined. I grip my left hand in my right and drive my fingernails into its back. This displacement pain eases the torture to my nipples. There is an intense spasm of pain from my nipples as he jerks on the elastic. “That must be painful” he observes, “Would you like me to remove the clips? Of course there will be a price”. Ah - now we are getting to the point, and if he knew the agony I am in he could drive a very high price indeed. I hesitate, how high am I prepared to go? What is the worst he can ask? Suck him and swallow him, be tied face down on the bed and given a good thrashing before a very rough fucking, violate my anus? The pain increases as I deliberate. I hear a bus draw up to the bus stop and can feel the many pairs of eyes on the top deck looking straight at me. “Yes” I reply. The clips are removed and the pain rather than receding increases as the blood flows back into the ends of my crushed and elongated nipples. He grasps and rolls them firmly backwards and forwards between thumb and forefinger. Gradually the pain subsides as they as massaged back to life and is replaced by the pleasure of having my nipples twisted. Still aware of my role I start to moan with pleasure and thrust my pelvis back and forth. This is rewarded by one hand being forced between my legs where it gathers all the loose flesh. The hand is cool and slippery, the cold cream perhaps. I feel my pussy lips being squeezed together and the hairs of my fleece being dragged downwards as he tightens his grip. He grinds the heel of his hand against my clit, one finger worms its way backwards and presses firmly against the very center of the rosebud of my anus. The cold cream gives it easy access and at the same time I feel his thumb thrust into my cunt. He has me in a firm grip from which there is no escape. I am not certain that I want to escape and I drive my pelvis back and forth against his tightening grip. I can feel the wall of my vagina contract around his thumb and this is exquisite but not enough. “Please fuck me soon” I gasp. The hand is withdrawn and I feel the elastic being drawn tight again. “No - you promised” I beg, but instead of my nipples being tortured again the elastic is passed behind my neck and the ends clipped together. It is tighter between my legs than before and he bends down to adjust it so that it passes precisely over my rosebud, divides the lips of my pussy and then passes over my clit. “Open your mouth” he instructs, and into it he places another ice cube. I am instructed to suck it until it melts and when it is nearly gone to kneel down. God I must go to the dentist, the cold has set several of my teeth on edge. I lick the ice cube, which gets smaller very slowly and my mouth gets very cold. Above the sound of the television I think I can hear sounds of disrobing and start to wonder what he looks like, and more to the point how big his cock is, and if it is erect. Our correspondence indicated only that he was “very well endowed”, well I lied a bit about my bust measurement but what are a couple of inches on top of 34. Does “very well endowed” mean that the end of his cock is hanging down between his knees, or better still, pressed against his belly button? Has he that slight teardrop of juice on the tip of his cock which indicates that he wants what he sees? The ice cube is almost gone so I kneel down. He speaks again “Open your mouth very wide”

Mark & Marie
A hand is at the back of my neck, preventing escape, but once again, just at the point where I am finally sure I know what will happen, he surprises me, for it is not his cock which enters my waiting mouth but his balls. I feel the other hand feeding them in and at first I am too surprised to do anything. He has shaved all the hair off them so my cold mouth is in intimate contact with them and as I begin to move my tongue around, massaging them gently, I can feel the heat in them warming me and know the opposite is true for him. I can feel his cock up the left hand side of my nose and touching my forehead, but now he fists it and begins to bring himself off as I continue my ministrations below it. Gently he pushes my head back so his knuckles miss my face. I wonder if he is going to go all the way and think of the mess this is going to make of my hair if he does, but after a minute or so he stops and pulls away.
Another ice cube is put against my lips and I know what is required and swirl it around my mouth as quickly as possible to get it melted. As soon as there is little cooling use left in it I spit it out, tilt my head back again and open as wide as possible for his balls and this time I am ready and eagerly get to work on them straight away. Obviously this is good as his hand moves much faster this time and within seconds I feel his balls starting to pull up and the skin of his sack getting taut. He is moving even faster and I find myself having trouble keeping my teeth out of the way. And then, just as I am thinking I will definitely be trying to comb congealed spunk from my hair later, he pulls away and stops. I am amazed! I have never encountered such self control. Now he is kneeling beside me and he asks if I am surprised. I can only nod dumbly and he tells me there are plenty more surprises yet as a gently pulling on the elastic urges me to my feet and away to the next part of his plan, for I am quite certain now that he is not making this up as he goes along. We are living out a perfectly planned script, but it is one I have never read. I consider the analogy to a play and wonder if I could ever be persuaded to go to a theatre knowing nothing more than that the play is a comedy or a mystery or whatever. As we walk through the flat I am considering how a modern imaginative playwright might surprise me in that situation. The ideas I come up with have me feeling rather nervous again by the time we stop.

Carl & Roxanne
I feel him lift me and lay me on my side on a bed. “It is time for your examination,” he says and I visualise being invaded by all sorts of gleaming instruments. “I will ask you ten intimate questions about my body, for each correct answer you will get a reward” as he says this I feel something smooth and phallus shaped pushed into my cunt. Almost immediately a soft vibration commences which arouses every nerve end in my cunt. It is withdrawn “however for the first incorrect answer you will receive one stripe like this” I feel a stinging pain across my buttocks. For the second incorrect answer you will receive two stripes and so on. For your examination you will be tied face up on the bed with your wrists and ankles tied to the top of the bed to make my task of rewarding or punishing you easier. To examine my body your hands will be freed but you may only use your mouth and tongue to carry out your examination. You will have five minutes and I will advise you of the passing of each minute and will count down each of the last thirty seconds. Also you may ask me to position myself as you please to facilitate your examination.” I need a plan of action to address likely questions. What are likely intimate details that I could find out? Height, weight, clean shaven, shaven body hairs, length of hair, smooth skinned, circumcised, smoker, length of penis, thickness of penis, size of balls, scars, warts, moles, disfigurements, age, body type, work with hands or mind, erogenous zones. Five minutes sounds plenty, best to start with his back, do his feet, legs, back, shoulders, arms before doing the interesting bits between his legs . Then turn him over and follow the same procedure except I will do his head after his hands and will deal with his cock in the last thirty seconds. He releases my wrists “five minutes”. I tell him to lay face down with arms and legs spread-eagled. It is quite hard to actually find him at first but once I locate him I move my mouth to his left foot. Nothing out of the ordinary, a full complement of toes so I proceed up past his ankle, calf, and thigh to the crease at the base of his buttocks. I cross to the right leg and work down to his toes. Nothing gained other than the fact that he is remarkably smooth skinned and must have talced his feet recently. “Four minutes”. Up now to his buttocks where I find what seems to be a mole on the left one. I linger over it before moving on up his back to his shoulders. He is obviously slim and about 5ft 8 inches in height. The arms reveal little as do his hands other than that he wears what seems to be a signet ring on the little finger of his left hand. Right-handed? “Three minutes”. It is time to explore between his buttocks so I tell him to get up on all fours with his legs spread. I locate the base of his spine and beyond I find the valley where his buttocks divide, I proceed downwards, the crease deepens and my tongue contacts a rough area, I probe it with my tongue and it contracts. I probe harder and feel it contract again, rather like a sea anemone in a rock pool when touched. I am very excited by this intimacy, and my nipples start to harden again. I explore the ridge that extends towards his balls and am surprised that there are no hairs here, I had imagined that men’s anuses were surrounded with hairs. I reach the soft puckered pouch his scrotum and run my tongue all over it but can determine nothing other than the fact that his balls are rather small which, I knew already. I allow myself a moment’s pleasure by sucking them into my mouth and gently pulling them away from his body. “On your back with arms and legs spread-eagled” I command. The same procedure as before for his legs. As I reach his trunk my cheek presses against his cock which is a trifle soft so I allow it a couple of speculative licks from the very base to the tip. It reacts in a satisfying manner and I proceed to the other leg. Now across his belly where I detect a ridge. I lick it and sense its length and direction. An appendix scar. I pass on and locate his belly button. I probe it and he reacts, obviously an erogenous area. I trace back and forth across his belly and rib cage no hairs on his chest, a nipple, a surprisingly large one so I suck it into my mouth and nibble it gently, it swells. Another erogenous zone. “Two minutes”. I try the other one with the same result. I decide to see how he is on pain and grip his right nipple between my teeth and pull firmly upward to see if he follows. He resists I bite harder, my left nipple seems to explode as he flicks it very hard with a finger. “Touché” I exclaim and move on to his armpits no hairs, obviously recently shaven. I lick his armpit enthusiastically and he reacts. Another erogenous zone. He has so many that I reckon that if I tied him to a bed I could make him spray his spunk over his belly without having to touch his cock. On to his shoulders and down his arms to his hands. The palms are soft, obviously a thinker rather than a manual worker. “One minute”. I must hurry half a minute for his face and head leaving half a minute to deal with his cock . My mouth travels up his throat and he responds yet again, up to his left ear, good big lobes and he squirms pleasurably as I probe his ear with my tongue, down his jaw, also very cleanly shaven, no beard or moustache. Now his mouth, I suck his lower lip into my mouth and then allow my self the luxury of forcing my tongue into his mouth. He reciprocates. “This will never do” I say to myself, and I draw away. I explore his cheeks eyes and nose. Up across his forehead to his hairline. No hair, absolutely smooth, too smooth to be shaven a suspicion starts in my mind, check for eyebrows, there are none. Now I understand. Part of me recoils with revulsion. “Thirty seconds” the revulsion is forgotten in my need to complete my examination. I locate the base of his belly and the cock that rises from smooth skin. By now I am not surprised at his hairlessness. It is time for me to exert some control. I locate his balls, suck them both briefly into my mouth and then run my tongue up the full length of his penis. I estimate that it is about six inches long and because the crown is so well defined I deduce that he is circumcised. “Twenty five”. I position my self on all fours and suck as much of his cock into my mouth as I can manage. Down I go as far as I can until the pressure at the back of my throat makes me gag. I withdraw until only the crown is in my mouth then down again, further this time before I start to gag. “Twenty”. Do I have long enough? I drive frantically up and down. Each time I can go further down than the last. My mouth is so full that I can hardly breathe but I manage a gasp on the next up stroke. I can feel his cock growing rigid and I drive even faster, this time his pelvis thrusts up to meet me “ten - nine - eight” it is a race against time. I have seven seconds left to make him lose control. Time seems to stand still. I have never had a mouth full of a man’s spunk; the nearest I got was in the back row of a cinema. I had gone there to fulfil a fantasy to masturbate my self in a public place. I was interrupted by a man who started to touch me up. He thought it was his lucky day when I got his cock out and started to suck him but at the last moment as I felt the spunk rising up his cock I withdrew, the spunk went every where, just before I went elsewhere. I am getting one complete stroke per second now and I am driving down so far now that my nose is striking his belly. My throat is so stretched that I am no longer gagging and I feel as if his cock is filling all the way down to my belly. I wonder what it feels like for him to have his cock squeezed by my throat rather than my cunt. His cock stiffens even more and his counting gets ragged “three - two – one - zero”

Mark & Marie
I know how much he is enjoying what I am doing, and how much he wants me to finish what I have begun, but it is clearly my turn to show self control and I quickly pull away and deliver a resounding slap to his side to cool his ardour. I did not finish within the allotted time and feel sure that continuing would not be a good move, and allowing him to come after the time due to my ministrations up to that final moment would be most unfortunate. As I listen to him panting I am wondering if I should have hit him. Perhaps he would not have come anyway? As his breathing slows I feel compelled to check and reach out to his belly, but it is dry. I move my hand down to his cock and feel it twitch as I touch it, but it has lost some of its hardness and is no longer throbbing. I move my hand away and he says “Very good”, sounding very impressed. As I sit back on the bed I can hear him getting himself up slowly. He moves away from the bed and I hear something scrape. Then he is back and something thin and hard goes around one of my ankles. Immediately there is a ratchety zipping noise and I realise it is one of those electrical cable tidies the police sometimes use as a cheap handcuff, but he has not done it tight. He does not move me around at all but continues with the other ankle. I wonder what is going on as they are to far apart to be connected. Next he takes a hand and the process is repeated, but this time I feel something soft against my hand, before he quickly pulls it away. Suddenly he is moving at full speed, lunging right over me to do the other hand but pulling it tight this time. Suspicion is elevated to certainty as I feel it trap a soft rope against my wrist. Now his weight is holding my down as he pulls the other wrist tight. I start to panic and slap at where his upper body should be, rather ineffectually. I briefly feel surprised that my arms are still free to move as he twists round to grab the ends of the wraps on my ankles allowing them to tighten up as I kick out. Then he is off me and off the bed. I start to get up, and have barely realised that I do not know whether to defend, protect or run when one of the previously free ropes starts pulling my right wrist back. Toppling backwards I protect my head with my free arm as I am not sure where I am in relation to the headboard. Instinctively I twist over and scrabble back to free myself but the rope just goes round the bottom of the board and disappears. Before I can loop it over my left wrist is pulled out the other way, twisting me back onto my back, and I can hear him tying the two off behind the board. He makes easy work of securing my legs, presumably to the legs of the bed, just pausing to pull me down into a taught spread-eagle. By the time he is finished I have given up altogether, but his sudden forcefulness and my enforced helplessness has left me feeling decidedly uneasy. “Now”, he says, “let’s see how well you made use of your five minutes learning time, shall we”.

Carl & Roxanne
A cord, or some such, is laid loosely across my waist and my ankle restraints are released. Just as I begin to wonder why I am being released so soon I feel them being drawn up towards the bed head. First my thighs come off the bed, then my buttocks and finally the base of my spine. The band across my waist prevents me going any further. He tightens the ankle restraints and says “that looks about right but let me check”. I feel completely helpless, trussed hand and foot with my most intimate parts pulled open and exposed as if served at a cold buffet waiting for the next diner. I feel a stinging slap across my buttocks. There is a pause, I feel confident as to what he will do next and I am not disappointed as he inserts a very heavily ridged dildo into my cunt and rather than turning on the vibrating function thrusts it in and out several times in quick succession. As he thrusts it in for the fifth or sixth time I sense through my blind fold a bright flash. I flinch and sensing this he says “yes I shall enjoy going through my Polaroids at a later stage. You may want some for your own album.” My mind goes into free fall as I visualised a randy colleague surfing the Internet porn sites and recognising me. Do I have any distinguishing features; after all I am blindfolded? A lover might just recognise my prominent nipples but none of my colleagues fall into that category. As if reading my mind he says “don’t worry I am a purely private collector, you would be fascinated to see my gallery”. Without further preamble he asks how tall he is. “Five foot nine inches”. “Close enough”.
And the dildo was slipped into my cunt and made to vibrate. I try to lie still but I felt the urge to thrust my pelvis up against it. “Two - how long is my cock to the nearest inch?” I go into recall, I had managed to get it all down my throat so it couldn’t be more than eight inches, on the other hand it was a good size so must be at least six inches – split the difference. “Seven inches”. No comment but I am rewarded with another shafting with the dildo. This time it was not switched on but plunged in and out, I feel the ridges stimulating the inside if my vagina and start to lose control and spread my legs as wide as the restraints would allow. “Three - do I bite my nails?” Think woman think, if only I had sucked one of his fingers instead of spending so much time sucking his cock. It is an even money bet but on balance it would be out of character. “No” I reply. The pain of the riding crop; for that is what I suspect it is; surprises me. It lies in a line exactly between my rosebud and my vagina. The pain on my buttocks is intense. “Four - my sexual persuasion” Absolutely no hesitation here. “Straight” I reply. “You should have known by the way I reacted to your tongue up my bum that I like more than just a tongue”. I know what is going to happen and steel myself for it.
The first stroke makes me leap against my restraints and the second follows swiftly and coincides with another flash from the camera. “You Bugger” I yell at him. “Don’t tempt me” he replies and I feel the end of the dildo pressed gently against my anus. The vibrator is switched on and the whole valley between my legs becomes a pleasure zone at great contrast to my buttocks, which are still suffering intensely from their punishment. He presses more firmly and I feel tempted to relax my rosebud. “Five - am I left or right handed”. He wore a ring on his right hand and so was his watch. Before answering I consider a trap, no it is out of character. “Left handed”. “Very good and a special reward”. He climbs on to the bed and I feel the unmistakable warm softness of an erect penis pressed against my pussy lips. I lie absolutely still and he doesn’t move further. “Well” he demands. “Oh please, yes please” I reply and very slowly the pressure increases until my lips part and I feel him slide very slowly into me. The crown of his cock feels more pronounced than it looks as it glides through my inner lips and into my cunt proper. The camera flashes again. I strain upwards to draw him fully in, his pubic bone meets mine, the soft silkiness of his balls press against my anus. I tighten my cunt muscles to grip him as hard as possible for what must I know be only a brief period, but I want him to know what is available should he choose to take me. He withdraws “Six - what size feet do I have?”

Mark & Marie
I could not care less what size his feet are, I just want him to start fucking me and make a rather pathetic attempt to thrust up at him and am rewarded with a rough slap to the side of my right breast, wrenching it wildly on my chest. “No answer is the wrong answer” he says, “Seven - where is my largest scar?” I am right back down to earth again, my breast aching from the force of his blow, and have no trouble thinking straight and tell him the appendix straight away. I think he was sure I would know that and has let me off easily after my little misdemeanour on number six. He slides his cock back in and presses deeply, then holds his position. “Eight - which testicle is the largest”. I have to think about that one a little but feel fairly confident with the right one and am rewarded with the stroking motion I have been waiting so long for. He gives me 5 long, slow strokes and then stops on the out stroke. “Nine - what colour are my eyes”. His tone is light hearted and I sense he might have run out of ideas and guess blue for no particular reason. He slaps a big gob of something cold and wet on my puckered rosebud and pushes the dildo forcefully in beneath him. It hurts and I whimper a little, wondering whether this means I was right or wrong. It feels like he has pushed it right in and now I can feel that it is one of the type with a large bulge at the base. My minds eye sees me doubled over, used and abused by a freak with no hair, his cock about to double my impalement and I suddenly wonder what possessed me to get myself into this degrading situation and I wish that..... God, I just wish he would get on and fuck me stupid. I feel more wanton and sluttish than I ever have in my life, I just cannot deny what gets me going. “Ten” he says, “do I turn you on”? “Yes” I gasp, “Yes, yes, yes”. The vibrator is turned on and he finally thrusts forcefully into me, only this time he keeps going as I keep panting out “Yes, yes, yes”. I feel totally filled, totally abused, totally taken and totally into it. I desperately fight my bonds straining to thrust back against him as he fucks me harder and harder, just how I want it. Vaguely I hear him gasping out the approach of his own orgasm but it is like a surreal backdrop to my own, which comes over me like a tsunami of lust and sensation. Suddenly I know it was all worth it, the risk, the waiting, the anticipation, the humiliation, the disappointments and whatever problems might still be left to be revealed, all for these few moments of sensation such as no man has ever managed to extract from me before. It just seems to go on and on and I can tell he is coming as his gasping turns to loud grunts and moans and he batters into me. As he does it he grabs my shins, digging his fingers violently into the soft muscle at the back and forces my legs even further backwards and out. I am totally and utterly at the mercy of his cock and dildo and with that thought I orgasm so violently I hurt a small muscle in my wrist, but I am too out of control to care. For a split second we are locked together immobile, every muscle at maximum tension, both extracting every tiniest drop of sensation, before thrusting and grinding back down from the peak.

Carl & Roxanne
We lie interlocked for what seems like minutes. I can feel his cock detumescing inside but the vibrator still runs creating minor orgasmic contractions. My nipples are sore, my back aches, my buttocks still glow from their punishment and my anus feels as if it has a telegraph post stuck up it, but despite all this I have an enormous feeling of peace and tenderness. We are both sweating and the lower part of his torso peels away from the backs of my thighs whenever he moves. He must sense that I am totally submissive and I feel him reach to the bedside table for something. He then stretches up and across me so I sense that his chest is near and I raise my head searching for a nipple. I find one and suck as much as possible into my mouth before gripping the aureole between my teeth and licking the end with my tongue. This pleases him and his cock starts to harden again and I tease the tit feeling it harden and grow in my mouth. He is still stretching towards the bed head and I release his nipple to find his armpit. It is warm and damp and there is a distinctive salty taste of his sweat. I burrow my tongue into the soft flesh feeling his hardness increase still further. There is a sharp “snip” and my right leg is released. He reaches across to my left and I search for his right nipple. I grip the very end between my teeth and worry it, which results in him withdrawing his cock a bit and then thrusting very hard back into my cunt. The other ankle is released with another sharp “snip” and while I anticipate that my wrists will be next I stretch my legs to restore some of the lost circulation and flex my back muscles. Instead of releasing my wrists he moves his hands to my breasts and squeezes them so that the nipples feel as if they will explode. Then he takes each in turn and worries their very tips with his teeth. “My arse is getting rather sore” I tell him, and he gently withdraws the vibrator and there is an empty feeling in my belly. I had felt so full with his cock deep inside my cunt and the vibrator buried up my bum, now there is just his cock so I am now able to control my cunt muscles again so I squeeze him three or four times in quick succession. He responds by withdrawing until I can feel the crown of his cock holding my inner lips apart before driving all the way back in, so hard that his balls bounce against my very sensitive rosebud. At the same time his mouth presses against my lips and he forces my mouth wide open, his tongue engaging with some frantic probing against my own. I feel myself starting to orgasm again. I raise my legs to wrap around his waist and ask him to fuck me as hard as he can. Without taking his mouth from mine or releasing his grip on my breasts he sets up a fierce rhythm of withdrawal and re-entry. The mixture of the spunk from his earlier climax and my own cum produce distinctive slapping noises as our bellies crash together with each shafting stroke. I have trouble holding back, I know that this will be a lot longer for him than the first orgasm. I resort to my twelve times tables while he pounds on and on. His breath is laboured and I can feel the sweat dripping off his chest on to my belly. I struggle over twelve times seventeen and sense a change in the texture of his cock; it takes on that peculiar rigid texture that signals an imminent climax. I stop my tables and concentrate on what he is doing to me, I feel my vaginal muscles harden and know from experience that this will almost certainly trigger his climax. He starts to mutter obscenities about the juiciness of my arse, how he would like to stick his cock so far up it that it come out of my mouth, and then I feel that distinctive pumping feeling from his cock as it pumps a load of spunk into my hard and gripping cunt. It is too much and my own climax reduces me to a writhing set of reflexes. When I cease my orgasmic thrashing about we lie panting and sweating in untidy pile on the bed. “Pumpkin time” he says and I start to protest but he reminds me that I had said that my flat mate would be returning on the nine twenty-seven and it is already nine fifteen. He withdraws his by now shrinking penis and I wait for the restraints to be undone but in the ensuing silence I hear him dressing and then the distinctive click of the front door closing. I struggle ineffectually with my bonds but am forced after some five minutes to surrender and accept the indignity of Catherine finding me like this and my ensuing embarrassment. After what seems an eternity Catherine’s keys open the door. “Angela” she calls and I accept the inevitable and call out. “Nice day at the office” she asks from the bedroom doorway and goes to the kitchen where I can hear her filling the kettle. “Please,” I call “I can explain everything”. “Promise – everything – every sordid detail?” I nod and she removes first my blindfold and then my restraints. I rub my wrists to gain time and look around. As I do so I espy a small pile of Polaroid’s behind Catherine on the dressing table. She follows my horrified gaze and is there before me holding them away from me as she riffles through them. “Very impressive, now that is what I call a cock, that’s not deep throat, it's the channel tunnel, I didn’t know you were in to bum fucking”, she says as she views each picture.
A the last picture her expression changes and she says simply “How could you?” before passing me a facial portrait of my recent lover. I shudder as I look at what can only be described as a blue eyed hairless albino, but then I remember and I feel another orgasmic after shock. No point in explaining as she will never understand, although I do now. All too clearly.

The End.

Mark started this project. Many thanks to LG&c for the illustrations! To start a story or comment e-mail nexuswilson@hotmail.com.
Carl & Roxanne joined to write this story. Unfortunately I have now lost all contact with the co-writers so I am unable to pass along any comments to them. A real shame as I'd love to know what they think of the illustrated version seen here!