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From: "J.J." <jdotjdot@pacbell.net>
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 07 Jan 2001 15:01:32 PST
Subject: {ASSM} Sunday   MF  bdsm/cons
Date: Mon,  8 Jan 2001 08:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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                          SUNDAY

    She stood in the crowded corridor waiting for the elevator that
would take her to his floor. Many of the others waiting had just
returned from church, and the talk was of the services they had just
been to. They were all dressed in their Sunday best. She, on the other
hand, wore a simple dress. Her spanking dress he called it. Two bows
that tied above the shoulders and could be untied with one swift motion.
She was naked beneath it. A pair of high heels, nothing else. She smiled
inwardly. If any of these people had any inkling of the depraved acts
she would soon be engaged in, they would recoil from her like from the
Devil himself.
    All week long she would think of the things she had done on the
previous Sunday, and her face would redden with shame. She would see the
marks on her body in the mirror, or feel them through her clothes, and
she would think 'never again, I won't do this again'. Then on Sunday
morning the phone would ring, and she would always answer it, the deep
soothing voice telling her to put the dress over her naked body, put on
her shoes and meet the taxi outside. And she always did it.
   As she waited, she could picture the whole scenario that she would
soon be a part of. It did not change much, week after week.
  She would let herself in the front door, and stand in the entryway,
eyes downcast. He would walk past her and close the door, take her hands
and lead her into the main living room. He would order her to lift her
dress to her waist and hold it there, legs spread wide. He would
approach her and begin kissing her neck and shoulders, all the while
carresing her ass and inner thighs with a short, stiff leather strap. He
would then turn the strap on its side and slowly draw it through the
lips of her hairless cunt, all the while telling her you want this don't
you, and she whispering yes. The straps of her simple dress would be
untied and let fall, exposing her breasts. She would gather it up and
continue to hold it around her waist, while the strap began to explore
this newly exposed flesh. He would then order her to drop the dress and
stand up straight with her hands on top of her head, and this she would
do. He would blinfold her.
     The strapping would begin in earnest now, and he would start with
her tits, slapping the sides back and forth, then the tops, then across
the nipples, while she struggled to keep from lowering her hands.
Satisfied, he would lead her to his favorite overstuffed chair and she
would climb up, draping herself over the back, knees widespread on each
of the arms. Here he would paddle her, the cheeks of her ass, the backs
of her thighs. She would lose her shoes from the action of her knees
jerking against the back of the chair, but he would whisper to her and
carress her and guide her knees back to the ends of the chair arms, and
begin again . He would stop long enough to pick up his strap and deliver
a few uppercuts to her gaping, wet cuntlips that would make her bury her
face into the back of the chair and scream.
     Then he would stop. He would carress her and tell her the things he
was going to do to her, and she would be moaning yes, please, yes. He
would slowly insert a greased finger into her ass, then withdraw it,
only to push more lubricant into her on the next insertion. Then she
would feel the tip of a large butt plug begin to penetrate the now slick
hole. He would slowly slide it in, almost to its fullest width, then let
it slide back out. Each time, her heart would catch in her throat as she
readied herself for that final inch that would take the widest part past
the stretching sphincter. But he would be in no hurry and would spend
many minutes enjoying the sight of the wedge spreading her open. Finally
he would let the plug spread her all the way, and she would moan as she
was opened up that last fraction, and her ass would suck it in and close
itself on the narrower part, past the flamed out head.
     She would be gasping and moaning now, squirming against the
constant pressure of the plug, and he would pick up the paddle again,
and begin to paddle her hard, the blows of the paddle srtiking directly
against the end of the plug.
     She would be a bowstring of emotions and nerves now, crying,
trembling and begging. But he would guide her off the chair and onto her
knees in front of him on the floor. He would lift her blindfold and tell
her to look at him. He would tell her to suck him and she would take him
in her mouth. She would wrap one arm behind his ass and hold his balls
in her other hand while she pulled him into her sucking mouth. She would
gaze into his eyes while he pistoned her face, all the while telling her
what a good cocksucker she was. He would tell her he was going to cum,
and to hold it in her mouth. With her mouth full of his sperm, he would
stand her up and lead her to the bedroom. Standing by the bed he would
slap her face, once on each side, hard enough to leave his handprint
there, and he would lay on the bed face down. She would kneel between
his legs, spread open his ass cheeks and deposit her mouthful of cum.
Using her tongue she would open his hole and try to force as much of his
cum as she could back into him. Licking and slurping, she would suck
back into her mouth the sperm that was running down his crack, curl her
tongue and slide it in as far as she could, forcing the cum in and
sucking it back out. Her own ass muscles would clench the plug in her
ass, and she would grind the heel of her foot against it as she tried to
cum, slurping at his ass like she wanted to suck out his bowels, him
telling her that someday she would, that some Sunday he would let
himself go and give her what she wanted, that she would suck his ass to
completion.
    Then he would roll over and grab her by the hair. He would pick up a
mirror and hold it up to her face. Her face would be totally slickened
with juices, and together they would trace their fingers over the
handprints on her face.
    The stool would be next. She almost fainted at the thought of it. A
low padded stool with a huge dildoe protruding up from it, horribly long
and almost as thick as a man's wrist. She would be made to stand over
the stool and her ankles would be tied to the legs of it. She would be
saying no she couldn't take it and he would be telling her he would help
her and that yes she would take it.  She would squat over the heavily
lubricated monster until the head was against her hole. He would now
stand before her with a short whip, and tell her to reach down and
spread her cunt lips.She would open herself and let herself sink down a
little, until the head was firmly planted in her hole. He would tie her
hands behind her back  He would give her a few minutes to get accustomed
to the monster, and she would pull off of it, sink back onto it, and
rotate the head in her cunt, standing on the tips of her toes. Thick
rubber cords would now be stretched from her ankles to her wrists and
she would start to feel their downward pull. As they continued to pull,
she would feel the monster inching its way on its upward journey, and
she would not be able to pull back. It would take a stroke of the whip
to get the head past the swelling of the butt plug, still firmly planted
in her ass. Once past that she would sink fully another six inches and
she would be flat footed with knees bent, the impalement slowly
continuing. She would manage to take all but the last four inches or so,
when the monster would press up against her cervix, right to the
entrance of the womb itself. She would try to go further, but would not
be able to will herself to let it in.
      The first burning stroke of the whip would catch her across the
top of her asscheecks, and she would involuntarily lift her feet from
the floor for an instant to escape its burning sear. He would be rubbing
her head now and telling her how many strokes is up to you, just let it
in, and she would be babbling and crying and saying she can't. Another
whip stroke would catch her and again lift her feet from the floor, and
the monster would gain a foothold and its flared head would not be
denied. Another stroke and another and she would be lost, feet totally
off the floor and the shaft  would penetrate her totally,  ass cheeks
firmly against the stool, and she would cum, screaming in an orgy of
pain lust that would take her over the brink and back , time and again.
She would pass out, and be only barely aware of him releasing her and
carrying her to his bed. The last waking moment she would have would be
laying on her side, sucking on his cock as he came in her mouth. She
would be drifting off to sleep as the cum oozed from her mouth, and he
would be playing with her lips and rubbing the cum around her face as he
told her what a sweet little slut she was.
      Her dreams would be of him, and ass cracks and dildoes and
cum...........and next Sunday.

                                 END

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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