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From: PJcocoa@aol.com
Subject: {ASSM} [Rom Fest] Chocolate Sunday (Version 3) {Gary Jordan} 
Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 08:10:04 -0400
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Chocolate Sunday
By Gary Jordan

Version 3

Copyright 2001, 2002

This is the third 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 good.  That was the most
incredible orgasm of the night.  And it wouldn't stop.  Every time I
thought it was over I'd feel that pain and pleasure again.  Over and
over until I thought I would die."

Tears leaked onto her arm.  "I couldn't even guess how many orgasms I
had until I passed out; I don't think they stopped then.  I had
aftershocks all weekend."  Was that a faint touch of awe in her voice?

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 damn well please, for as
long as you damned well want, and you're going to gag me so I can't
say a damned thing about it."  Her eyes were blazing. "And the only
time you're going to remove that gag is to stuff my mouth with cock."

"No safe words?"  I didn't like where this could go.

"No safe words," she confirmed.  I pondered ending the games right
there.  Or simply ignoring her request for a gag.  If she won the
toss, it was academic.  If I won, we'd discuss the safe word issue
again, on my terms.

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.

Jeanine had a small grin on her face as she undid the bindings.  Well,
she had said that she preferred it slightly when I won.  She asked me
how I wanted her, and I replied, "Often and forever."  She giggled,
and the mood in the room lightened considerably.

I actually only used the wrist restraints, essentially confining her
arms to the side of her body.  And the blindfold, because it always
seems more erotic when she can't actually see what I'm about to do.
And the gag, as she'd instructed.  When she was comfortable, on her
back with a cushion under her ass, I began stroking her with feathery
touches.

I asked, "Are you still afraid?"

She bit her lip and nodded. She must have been afraid that when she
start to come, I'd inflict the pain she couldn't ask for, and she
wouldn't feel it again.  What if the pain wasn't enough?  Worse, what
if I hurt her too much...

"I will remember," I soothed. "I will not hurt you needlessly."

I was feeling slightly inhibited.  More than slightly, actually.  But
I continued stroking her all over.  She began to breathe a little
faster. I paid attention to her hips and arms. If Jeanine relaxed, I
could, too.

What the hell. Relaxation was a key incredient to any lovemaking,
until you achieved the right kind of tension.  "Raise your hips," I
ordered.  When she did, I pulled out the cushion.  "I'm turning you
over," I said as I put action to the words.

With Jeanine on her belly, I went first to the kitchen, then to the
bathroom and returned with a few supplies.  One was a chocolate-
flavored edible massage cream, which I squirted on her back.  She
jerked at the sensation of the cold fluid, but did not protest.  She
knew what it meant.

I am not a masseur, but I give decent backrub, and proceeded to do
just that.  I didn't only concentrate on her shoulders, where the
tension was manifest, but worked her over everywhere, feet, calves,
thighs, glutes, glutes (I may have lingered there a bit), shoulders,
arms hands - even fingers and toes.

When I rolled her onto her back, I got a look at her smile, which had
been hidden by her hair.  Maybe I hadn't taken the best approach, but
I was on a good approach.  I massaged the cream in everywhere, paying
as much attention to her pecs as I had to her glutes.  Jeanine made
appreciative noises and actually did relax.

I positioned her back onto the cushion again, losing the edge of the
relaxation, but regaining some necessary height for what I planned
next.  I removed the scarf.

If I'd been following her instructions, this would have signaled a
forthcoming blowjob.  But sex slaves don't get to dictate to their
masters.  I covered her parted lips with my own, and was pleased that
she enjoyed the kiss as much as I did.  When we broke the kiss, I
leaned toward her ear.  "The safe word is 'ouch'," I whispered.

She started to protest. "Silence," I barked. "Slaves do not make
rules. No more talk, except the safe word.  Do you understand?" I
could see she was conflicted.  Her mouth opened to speak several
times, snapping shut before the words could escape.  Finally, she
nodded.

Unwrapping the next of my supplies, I ordered, "Open your mouth."  She
complied, wondering if she would feel my cock on her lips next, or my
tongue again.  I used neither.  I placed a Snickers bar across her
lips, bottom side out.  She groaned as she recognized my favorite gag.
A chocolate gag.  A chocoholic would find it painful to resist biting,
which I enjoined her not to do.  Well, pain was what she wanted.

I repositioned myself, grabbing a tube of water based lubricant as I
did.  Lying on my belly, raised on my elbows between her thighs, I
placed Jeanine's heels on my shoulders.  This had the effect of
lifting and spreading her knees, and making all of her available to
me.  I began to lick her pussy lips farther apart.

Resting on my elbows also left my hands free.  I stroked the cheeks of
her ass while I licked, and when her breathing began to get the least
bit ragged, I annointed a finger with lube and began to press just the
tip into her puckered asshole while switching my oral attentions to
her clit.

I was gratified to see that my ministrations were having the desired
effect.  Jeanine was panting around the chocolate bar, her body
covered in a faint sheen of sweat, and each return to her anus with
additional lube brought a breathy groan from her lips.  And still no
safe word, no injunctions to desist.

As she began the long moan that signaled her climax, I slid one
lubricated finger slowly but firmly up to the knuckle.  This was
rewarded by a deepening of that moan, and the clenching of her toes
above my shoulders.

I shifted the focus of my mouth, avoiding the most sensitive of her
sexy bits.  With the foreknowledge that Jeanine liked being pushed
beyond, I planned to do just that, but not quite yet.

I continued to apply my tongue to the task the gods must have designed
it for, while Jeanine returned to panting and groaning.  The groaning
only increased as I widened her anal passage, stretching both rings
until she could accomodate a second finger.

Anticipation can be a powerful aphrodisiac.  By now, Jeanine could be
certain that our lovemaking would include anal sex, and she would be
waiting for the instruction to roll over and get on her knees.  She
had to be asking herself if I would stop, since no previous episode
had been completely free of pain whatever amount of lubrication or
stretching beforehand.  Never beyond her tolerances, but her tolernce
levels were unknown just now.

I sensed that her anal passage was relaxed and stretched enough, and
her clit was once more begging for attention.  I rose to my knees,
keeping her heels on my shoulders, and positioned my cock to ride
between her fleshy lips and across her clit.  All the attention to
detail had allowed my dick to soften somewhat, but it returned to
readiness in a couple of thrusts.  I filled my palm with lube.

Jeanine, despite her increased arousal, took my position to indicate
that vaginal sex was next on the menu and actually relaxed slightly,
allowing her to more fully enjoy the sensations she was feeling. I
pulled my hips back, allowing my cock to ride through the pond of lube
in my hand, then thrust forward into the brown tunnel between her
upturned ass cheeks.

The head of my cock cleared the inner and outer rings and an inch
beyond while Jeanine let out a startled "MMMF!" through the chocolate
gag and clenched down.  She panted rapidly and exclaimed, "Nnhh!"
about every fourth or fifth pant.  I maintained a firm pressure, while
insinuating two fingers in her pussy and spreading lube around her
clit, and occasionally over it.

The two fingers curled up to locate that bundle of nerves, the G-spot,
and apply a firm pressure there.  I knew from experience that Jeanine
preferred to vary the pressure herself by moving her hips.  This time
was no exception, and the motion resulted in my cock sliding deeper
into her ass as well.  Jeanine's exclamations were truncated to
"nhfu!", and then just "unh".

Despite my modest proportions, I've never managed to sink my cock to
the hilt in Jeanine's ass.  She's just too tight, and before I can get
that deep, the sensations overwhelm me.  Today was the exception, and
my pubic hair was mashed against her cheeks when I lost control.  Her
gyrations brought me off, even as she scroaned her own peak.

When her spasms caused my shrinking cock to pop free, I dropped
quickly back to my elbows.  Her legs now dangled limply outside my
shoulders.  I reinserted the two fingers and positioned my face,
waiting for her breathing to slow.  As it did, I located that nerve
spot and tickled it while tonguing her retreating clit.

The results were rapid and spectacular.  She wailed, she thrashed, she
tried to buck my head aside - the bitten-in-half remnants of the
Snickers bar flew to land between her tits.  That's when I bit her.

It was no more than a gentle nibble with bare teeth. The tiniest
application of pressure.  Certainly far less than the previous bite.

She sat straight up and bayed.

To truly appreciate this, you have to remember that her arms were
fastened to her sides, her shoulders were lower than her ass, and a
moment before, her legs were limp and spread wide to either side.  It
impressed me; I opened my mouth in awe and tried to slide back.
Moments later, Jeanine collapsed like a sack of... like a sack of...
hell, like an empty sack.  She was gasping huge gulps of air, and
whispering something on the exhale.

I disengaged and eased the cushion out from under her ass, then moved
up to listen to her.  With each breath she exhaled, she was saying,
barely audibly, "ouchouchouchouchouch..."

I smiled as I untied her wrists, tossing the bindings and cuffs toward
the laundry basket.  The blindfold joined them.  I fetched a damp
washcloth and a dry towel and and gently cleaned the worst of the
sweat, chocolate, and lube from her unresisting body.  I covered her
with the sheet and spread, then after turning out the lights, slid
under to hold her as she drifted off to sleep.  I'd have to wait for
another day to learn if the safe word meant she had reached her limit
of pain - or of pleasure.

An End


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