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From: PJcocoa@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} [Rom Fest] Chocolate Sunday (Version 2) {Gary Jordan}
Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 08:10:03 -0400
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Chocolate Sunday
By Gary Jordan

Version 2

Copyright 2001, 2002

This is the second of four *versions* of this story, each with
different endings.

Jeanine said, "One of us needs to go to the store."

I loved to hear my chocoholic say the code words for our little
experiments in light, consensual bondage.  Some of our most exciting
sex was during these games.

She said it on Monday morning, an hour before the alarm was supposed
to wake me for work.  She won the coin toss, ending a two win streak
for me. I was bound as usual to the four posts of our bed, and she
rode my face into the sunrise.  There wasn't time to reciprocate that
morning. I went to work both tired and frustrated.  Work turned into a
double shift; I went to bed exhausted.

She said it Wednesday, after dinner.  Again, she won the toss.  Again,
I was bound to the posts of our brass bed and blindfolded.  Again, her
thighs carressed my ears until she could take no more.  While she
caught her breath, the phone began to ring.  When the answering
machine picked up, my brother's voice begged me to pick up, if I were
there.  Jeanine released me, and I spent ninety minutes assuring him
that the world had not ended; he would find another job; all would
turn out well.

When my brother at last believed in himself as I did, and freed me
from the bondage of the telephone, Jeanine was asleep.

She said it Friday when I walked in the door.  The gods of chance
favored her once more, and once more I donned the blindfold and wrist
and ankle cuffs.  This time, mindful of the fact that she had been on
the receiving end of all the attention this past week, she offered to
change places with me.  Tempted as I was to take her up on her offer,
I assured her that I was a good sport, and was certain that she would
take good care of her slave, as she had always done in the past - we
had plenty of time, didn't we?  Surely there would be no interruptions
tonight.

As usual when Jeanine won the toss, we started with her straddling my
head.  The only anomoly was that this time, she faced the foot of the
bed.  I became aroused just thinking of the possibilities.  I began my
oral ablutions with a little more vigor than usual in anticipation of
Jeanine returning the favor.  I could feel her hair caress me as she
began to lower her head.

Her back arched as she approached her first climax, drawing her head
further away from me.  It only sweetened the anticipation.  As she
cried out in ecstacy, I redoubled my efforts, wanting to please her as
I hoped to be pleased.  Her cries turned into shrieks - this night
held promise.

When I felt her squirming to remove her over-sensitive clit away from
my tongue, I caught her fleshy lips in my teeth and continued to
tease.  If I would be satisfied - and her hair once again tickling my
cock suggested I would - I would make sure she was compensated for it.
She breathed great gulps of air, and I felt her exhalations hot upon
my straining cock.  Before she could completely recover, I sucked
again on her clit, worrying it with my tongue.  Jeanine cried out her
pleasure in a piercing scream, which trailed off as she ran out of
breath.  Her body slumped over mine.  Had she fainted?

If so, her faint was awkward, whatever it might have done for my ego. 
My face was covered by her moist, delicious pussy and only by tilting
my head as far back as our bodies allowed could I gulp air through my
nose, and a pillow interfered with that.  The blindfold was slightly
dislodged but I could not cry out, I was most effectively gagged. A
silk scarf would never achieve what Jeanine had.

If the jiggling of my body would not rouse her, if my muted calls
could not reach her ears, at least I was in position to do the one
thing that never failed to awaken my sleeping beauty.  I strained my
neck for one more breath through my nose, then for the fourth time
applied lips and tongue and gentle teeth.  Even in her seemingly
unconscious state, Jeanine began to respond - by pushing herself more
firmly onto my face.  It was becoming a race - would Jeanine awaken
before I passed out?  I felt a thrill of fear.  If Jeanine did not
awaken, there was a real possibility that I could be smothered.

Viewed abstractly, and through the shield of time, I would someday
appreciate the humor of the situation.  "There are worse ways to go,"
I could joke.  It would someday be a hilarious memory - "Remember the
time you almost loved me to death?", a jibe - "I smothered you with
kisses, and you smothered me with...", a ribald tale to share with
intimate friends.

That would be then, but this was now.  My vision was becoming narrow,
my lungs were on fire.  The angel of death winked at me with one brown
eye.  I flailed, but the cords held my arms and legs immobile.  Tears
streamed from my eyes.  Even as I felt my own consciousness slipping
away, I did the one last thing that could possibly rouse my quivering
Jeanine from her rapturous state.

I bit her.

I don't know how hard I bit her.  I do know where.  And Jeanine did
release me from that glorious death grip.  She rose up on her toes,
one shoulder in the pit of my stomach (which did nothing for my
ability to inhale) and wailed - then fell to one side clutching one
hand to her breast and the other to her crotch, twitching.  Her eyes
were rolled up in their sockets.  The wail trailed off into moans, but
the twitching continued, and I could see when I raised my head enough
that her fingers pinched her nipple and thrust into her pussy in time
to the twitches.

The twitching finally stopped.  Jeanine was not now conscious, if in
fact I had awakened her at all.  Her sleeping form, with a rictus of a
smile, mocked my every attempt to wake her by calling her name.  I was
no freer now than in the minutes before, but I was exhausted, and
resigned to my fate.  When I at last caught up on  my oxygen deficit,
I too slept.

Days passed.  Jeanine called in sick on Monday, claiming a "female
problem."  They did not ask for a doctor's note, which fact saved my
life, as she had sworn my death if she had to explain her disability
to anyone, including a doctor.  I thought she was joking, but I'm
relieved the issue was not put to the test.

 From Saturday through Monday, Jeanine walked... funny.  Not funny ha-
ha, but funny peculiar. (Well it was funny, but one ha-ha might have
cost me my hu-ha, so to speak.)  Even when she returned to work on
Tuesday, she winced when she walked, and mincing steps were all she
could manage.

I did not press for my conjugal rights.  Although this was the longest
stretch of abstinence since we were together, discretion was the
better part of apology. (Discretion and chocolate. Lots of chocolate.)
We talked about it, on Saturday after, as Jeanine released my
bindings.  She let me know that this would not be a joking matter no
matter how many years went by, that any jibe on my part would be met
by a sudden frost, and that if she caught even a hint of repetition to
any acquaintence, I would become intimate with the couch.  And no
amount of chocolate would make her change her mind.

Sunday arrived, over a week later.  Jeanine took breakfast with me as
she always had, and always does, and for a wonder, seemed like herself
again. I served her favorite chocolate chip crepes. After I completed
the dishes, we sat together on the sofa and watched a movie from the
VCR.  I placed my arm around her shoulder; she leaned her head upon my
chest.  It was a very pleasant couple of hours.

Jeanine said, "One of us needs to go to the store."

I could feel my heart pounding, as well it might.  Lust and fear are
equally effective at stimulating the adrenal glands, and I had both
working overtime.

We turned off the television and adjourned to the bedroom, my arm
around her shoulder, hers around my waist.  I had made a single
preparation for the day when Jeanine might utter those words again.
In my pocket I carried a two-headed coin.  At the foot of the bed, I
fished out that coin, cocked it on my thumb, and tossed it to spin and
land on the spread.  I called...

"Heads!" Jeanine said.

I shut my mouth and looked with her at the coin, then snatched it up
and returned it to my pocket.  It was going into the next vending
machine I patronized, and good riddance.  The goddesses of chance have
strange senses of humor.

The undressing was a solemn ceremony, with lots of eye contact and few
smiles.  I suffered the binding of my limbs to the four posts of the
bed in quiet dignity.  I wasn't sure I liked this game any more.
Jeanine frowned, then released the cords binding my legs. She propped
pillows behind my back and head, so that I was reclined, slightly.
She used a single cord to bind my ankles together, and another to
stretch them to the footrail.

Sex slaves are not supposed to speak unless spoken to - it was one of
our rules.  But Jeanine could tell I was bursting to ask why the
change.  she always tied me down the same way.

She sat next to me, and placed a hand over my mouth.  That meant she
expected me to try to interrupt, and didn't want me to.

"Nine days ago," she began softly, "you gave me the most intense
orgasms I have ever had, or hope to have.  And I nearly killed you in
return."  If she hadn't placed her hand over my mouth, I would have
protested - but she was right (about almost killing me - we'd see
about the other.) "I've come to like our little games, although I
usually like it just a little better when you win the coin toss."  Her
hand pulled my head so that our eyes locked.  "Fairly.  Lose the
double-headed coin," she added, sternly.

I slammed my eyes shut and nodded vigorously.  Cheaters never prosper.
I don't know how she knew, but I shouldn't have been surprised.  She
always knows.

"The thing is, I love regular sex with you, but when I get to the
point where I'm too sensitive to continue, and I ask you to stop, or
change around, you do - and its good, and I love you for it.

"But when I'm your slave and you get me to that point, you just keep
on going - usually, it's even better.  I can't ask for that.  I really
am too sensitive.  The trip can be agony for a few moments, but I love
it when you take me there."

She swallowed.  "When it's my turn to play, I don't usually go there. 
When I reach my limit, I change on my own. I do something else until
I'm ready again.  Last time, you got me there so fast and kept going
while I was out of control, that it might as well have been me in the
ropes."

Her hand moved from my mouth to my chest, her fingernails toying with
the sparse hair.  "I'm afraid, though."  She looked at me, pausing,
and I took that as permission to speak.

I asked, "Afraid of what?"

She looked down, unwilling to meet my gaze.  She whispered, "Pain."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't..."

Again with the hand.  I kissed her palm and shut up.  She had more to
say.  She gathered herself to say it.

"You bit me and it hurt."  She shuddered, remembering, her eyes
closing at the recollection.  "It hurt so bad.  That pain ruined the
most incredible orgasm of the night.  And it wouldn't stop.  Every
time I thought it was over I'd try to get the pleasure back, and I'd
feel that pain again.  Over and over until I thought I would die."

Tears leaked onto her arm.  "I couldn't even guess how many spasms I
had until I passed out, and I don't think they stopped then.  I had
aftershocks all weekend."

To say I was shocked would be like saying it's warm on the sun.  I
didn't know what to say.  I'm not into pain, giving or receiving.
Jeanine had been, if anything, more reticent about pain than me.  Now
I was scared.

"What do you want to do?"

She pulled herself together.  "First, I'm going to toss another coin. 
A real one this time, and you'll call it in the air. If it's still my
turn after that, I'm going to do the same thing I did that night,
except this time, you're going to be gentle and keep your teeth to
yourself, and I'm going to suck your dick like a Hoover."  Well, that
was plain enough talk.  I grinned like an idiot.

"If you win, you're going to do whatever you want, for as long as you
want, except there will be no gag, so I can say a safe word any time I
want."  Her eyes were blazing. "And if you stuff my mouth with cock
and I want to say the safe word, you'll find out first hand how that
bite felt."

"No gag." No problem.

"No gag.  This time. If the pain comes back I want - no, I need to be
able to tell you to stop, and trust that you will."

She got off the bed and went to her purse.  She pulled out a quarter
and held it up for my inspection - a standard quarter with George on
one side and the bird on the other.  She placed herself where the coin
would land so that we could both see the result, then flicked it into
the air.  At the top of the arc I quietly said, "Tails."

The coin fell to the bed and bounced only once.  We looked at it
together.  Then we looked at each other.

 From the start, this was not like Friday night, except for the
blindfold.  Instead of wrapping her legs around my ears, Jeanine bent
over and wrapped her lips around me elsewhere.  It was unexpected and
I went from three-quarters erect to rampant in less time than it takes
to say it.  Like a Hoover, damn.

Jeanine used a hand on the shaft and lavished attention on the head
with lips, tongue and a hint of teeth.  I knew I wouldn't last long,
but that's never been an issue for this type of play.  And Jeanine
never attempted to deep-throat me, after the results of her only
attempt.  I didn't need it and never missed it.  I had serious doubts
about the claims of those who swear by it.

And then she did, nearly.  I still had my doubts, but it was
undeniably erotic that she would make the attempt.  I cleared my
throat to let her know I was close.  She continued to suck, though
shallower, and her hand returned to jack the shaft.

Her other hand on my pelvis restricted my bucking attempts as much as
the bindings did as I came, hard.  It felt like quarts, though I knew
it was at best a couple of teaspoons all told.  Jeanine continued to
suck and slurp through the entire ejaculation, even though she'd
confided that it was a taste she could do without.

When she'd said that (I hadn't been at all surprised), I had told her
if I had three wishes, I'd wish for a long healthy life for myself and
those I loved, just enough material wealth not to distract from loving
and living, "and, of course, chocolate-flavored semen."  I think she's
repeated that one to all her friends, most of her acquaintences, and
probably a few strangers.

Well, I was feeling relaxed and happy again, and eager to do the same
for Jeanine.  I felt her weight leave the bed, and I listened for
clues to what she might be doing.

After what seemed an awfully long time, I realized that she was
leaning on the right side of the bed.  My right arm was freed, then
pulled back in place.  I could tell from the feel that Jeanine had
replaced the binding straps with the old Bungee cord we used to use.
There was some tension, but plenty of give.  She did the same on my
left.

"I started hating those things, because they felt like they were
pullig me apart,"she whispered in my ear. "But your arms are longer,
there's less tension, and in case of a smothering accident, you should
be able to free yourself."  So far, everything Jeanine had done had
been for me.  I was more eager than ever to pay her back.

At last I felt her legs on either side of me.  With the slight angle
she had me reclining in, it was a little more awkward for her to place
herself as she had that Friday, but she managed.  As soon as I smelled
her near, I reached out my tongue to lick.  Handicapped by the
blindfold, the first flesh I touched was Jeanine's clit.

She let out a "whoof" and jerked forward.  "Hey!  Not so eager on the
beaver, back there!  Remember, I said 'gentle' this time."  Her stern
admonition was spoiled by a giggle.

"Sorry, Mistress," I called back.  I stopped straining forward, pulled
back a bit, and waited, my lips pursed as for a chaste kiss, for her
to come to me.

She eased back until she was kissing me back, although her lips were
at a ninety degree angle from mine.  I kissed her and made the lip
smacking noise, "Mwah!"

She jumped just the least bit and giggled again.  She took my not-
quite-limp cock in one hand and said, "I don't think you're taking me
seriously."  She squeezed a bit.  "Now get serious or else."

I got serious.  Well, seriously playful.  I once again applied lips
and tongue to the task set before me, while Jeanine toyed with the
task at hand.  Jeanine made appropriate noises to show her approval,
and unconsciously pushed back a little more to take advantage of the
pleasure of pressure.

Meanwhile, I managed to grasp the Bungee and pull the hook from the D-
ring.  To prevent the tell-tale 'thwack' of a freed cord, I set the
hook on the vertical brass bars in the head board.  When both hands
were free, I grasped the bars to prevent giving away that fact.

Jeanine was slowly approaching her first climax, and I eased her into
it as gently as I could.  Her moan was a soft, long musical note, and
I shifted to licking her lips and channel as I knew she would prefer
while this sensitive.

When her breathing slowed a bit, I once more ventured an occasional
lick to the hood of her clit, encouraging the bud to come out to play.

And then, like that Friday, I sped my efforts abruptly, with the same
results.  While she was in the rapture of the second coming, I licked,
lipped, and sucked, tonguing her to her limit and as far past as I
could achieve before she could tell me to stop or pull away.

She fainted again.  Well, maybe not fainted, but she was no longer
responsive in a conscious manner.  I removed my blindfold.

I learned the purpose of the slight incline, as her sweaty body tended
to slide slightly away from my head instead of onto my face.  But I
had two free hands, and pulled her back into position for the final
event.  I did my absolute best to drag that last orgasm from her
quivering cunt.  And because my arms and hands were free to reposition
her as I wished, I managed to breathe while doing it.

This time, when her body began to twitch, there were no teethmarks and
no pain to distract her from the pleasure.  The smile on her limp,
twitching form was genuine.  I eased her aside and freed my legs, put
all our toys in the laundry basket, and  gently eased her around to
her normal sleeping position.  Every now and then, she would twitch
again, accompanied by a soft "oohhh."

At least if she had trouble walking at work tomorrow, she'd have a
smile instead of a wince.  I wrapped an arm around her and allowed
myself to fall asleep.

An End

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