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From: Rajah Dodger <rajahdodger@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Upstairs [FM bdsm]
Date: Tue,  7 Oct 2003 20:10:08 -0400
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     Upstairs, by Rajah Dodger <rdodger@hotmail.com>,
Copyright (c) 1989.  Originally written under the
pseudonym "Major Havoc".  All rights reserved, except
that electronic not-for-profit reproduction rights
only are explicitly granted with the stipulation that
this authorship and permission note must remain
attached.

     My wife was out of town for the week, which left
me without much to do besides watching TV or catching
the basketball games on the radio.  So when rush hour
hit, I headed to a nearby bar and sat at the rail to
check out the traffic, ordering a gin and tonic to
pass the time.  It was an upscale crowd -- yuppies,
businessmen like myself, you know the type.

     As I swiveled my barstool around, getting a quick
360 of the clientele, I realized there was a woman
sitting next to me.  A good-looking brunette in a
well-tailored business suit.  And unless I was very
much mistaken, she had been giving me the eye.

     I turned around, and she was there all right,
looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite
fathom.  "Rough day?" she asked, and I relaxed and
moved into the "office work" routine with half my mind
while the other half tried to figure what she was
looking for.  She was friendly enough, and I tuned
back into our discussion just in time to hear myself
recommend a little Chinese place for dinner.

     We ate at Yank Soo's in one of the booths
overlooking the river. Separate checks, of course. 
She told me about life in the field of accounting and
how hard it was for a woman to get ahead in a
male-dominated area.  We talked about college and
career, and found a mutual interest in old jazz. 
Turns out she had some early Blue Note disks I had
been looking for years, so I asked about taping them
for my collection and she invited me to come over and
give them a listen first.

     Her "little place" was a Victorian brownstone in
one of the more expensive neighborhoods.  I pulled
into the second bay of the two-car garage since it
looked like rain.  She showed me into the music room
as she went to fix something to drink.  I was
impressed -- her jazz collection was something
incredible, from rare Bird to just about every Monk
album ever released.  I found the records we had
discussed and put one on the turntable, then sat on
the couch and listened. Cool, sweet, jazz -- I closed
my eyes and drank in the sound.  At some point in the
first track she put a drink in my hand, and I sipped
as I listened.

     The first track ended, and I opened my eyes to
see her beside me on the couch.  Somehow, taking her
in my arms was the easiest thing to do, and when the
second track began we just naturally rose to start
dancing.  Her hands drifted down to the base of my
spine, and I became aware of the points of her breasts
through the silk blouse she wore.  We turned so she
was dancing with her back to me, moving her hips back
into mine.  I cupped her breasts, and heard her sigh
as she leaned into me.  She turned around, and as our
dance went on she unbuttoned my shirt, then removed it
and my jacket.  Next to go was her jacket and blouse,
and we danced through the next solo with her hands
inside the back of my pants.

     "Come upstairs," she breathed, running one hand
between my legs, and I didn't have the will to resist
her.  She unfastened my pants there in the music room,
leaving me in shorts alone, took off her bra, and
kissed me long and deep, my hands roaming over her
back and down farther.  She led me up the stairs, one
hand in my shorts, and opened the door to her bedroom.
 There was a large bed there, a music system equal to
the one downstairs, and a low metal Sixties-style
bench with a fur seat by a curtained wall.  She asked
me to sit on the bench, and as the music from
downstairs continued, used her own fingers to bring
her nipples into proud erection.  "Kiss me," she said,
offering a ripe tit, and I cooperated, drawing it into
my mouth with lips and tongue. "Harder," she moaned,
and I used my teeth and tongue, feeling it become
stiff and swollen.  She pulled away, then offered the
other breast for the same treatment.  When she pulled
away this time, her face -- indeed her whole upper
body -- was flushed.  She beckoned with one finger,
and I came to her to slip her skirt off, revealing a
black pair of crotchless panties.  I slipped a finger
between her thighs, finding that she was already warm
and wet.

     She asked me to turn around, so I did so, facing
the bench and wall as she dragged my shorts down, my
penis spring free to smack audibly against my belly. 
I felt her hands move down my legs, and then a
clicking sound.  I looked down to realize that she had
just fastened a set of fur-lined cuffs around my
ankles and snapped them to the bottom legs of the
bench.  She pushed me forward, and as I fell she
grabbed one arm, then the other, fastening them
similarly to the other end.  I began to appreciate the
design of the bench in a different light now.  The
seat of the bench ran from just below my neck to just
above my waist, then the bench legs went out at an
angle, leaving me open to the air from the belly
button to mid-thigh.  I couldn't see what she was
doing, but I could still smell her private aroma, and
that maintained my flagging erection.

     She slid a footstool beneath my chin, lifting my
head so I could see the slit in her panties and smell
the juices that were already gathered there.  As she
slid forward, I stretched my tongue out to meet her,
finding her hot and wet inside.  She gripped my head
as I kissed and licked, and ran trails with her nails
around my ears, the back of my neck, my armpits, each
nail leaving a trace I could feel as clearly as
reading a map.  I felt something toying with the head
of my penis -- she had stretched her legs and gripped
me with her toes.  Now she pulled slightly away from
my face, and I had to stretch my head and tongue to
reach her, as she braced her hands on my shoulders and
began working me with her feet.  I could not hold off,
but as I began to shoot I felt her begin her own
spasms around my tongue.

     She bent her knee, bringing one foot onto the
stool, her toes between my face and her pussy. 
"Suck," she commanded, and despite some misgivings I
did, mingling the acrid taste of my own fluid with the
heavy smell of her juices.  She buried my face inside
her pussy again, and I licked and nibbled until she
was satisfied.  She arose, moving to my nether end,
and I heard a buzzing sound, then felt a vibrator
moving over my thighs, between my legs, between my
cheeks. She parted my cheeks and I felt her finger
work its way into the opening there, moving in and out
until I relaxed.  Then her finger was replaced by
something thicker that went in until my muscles
clamped around a narrow portion.  She ran the vibrator
over the end of the plug, and the sensation was so
intense, that to my surprise I found myself becoming
erect again.

     She unhooked the cuffs from the bench, and helped
me to stand erect, taking me in a full body kiss,
tongues fighting for space, then sliding slowly down
my body to taste and tease my nipples as I cupped and
squeezed her full breasts.  Each move I made caused
the plug to wiggle, making my erection bob and jerk
against her.  "Poor baby, we've been neglecting you,"
she said, and sank to her knees to engulf me in the
moist cavern of her mouth.  I closed my eyes and
stroked her fine hair as her tongue and lips worked
their magic on me, all the while her fingers were
pinching, caressing and stroking my thighs, cheeks,
genitals.  My breath was coming ragged as she held me
on the edge of erupting.

     She pulled away, holding me in her hand as she
led me to a curtained wall, then drew the curtain
aside to reveal a large metal frame with D-rings at
the corners.  She backed me up and attached my feet to
the corners, spreading my legs to do so, then kissed
and licked her way up my body, finally lifting my arms
and hooking their cuffs to the top corners of the
frame.  By now she was riding on top of me, rubbing
her labia around my aching member, her breasts hot
against my chest.

     She moved her head down to kiss and worry my
nipple, then made me gasp as she clipped something to
it.  She repeated the treatment on my other nipple,
then slid down and wrapped her breasts around my
erection, bring it up harder (if possible).  Now she
attached some sort of clamp to the skin just below the
head, with a weight attached to the clamp.  The weight
magnified every movement I make. As she stepped away
from the frame, my attention wavered between the
growing pain at my nipples, the constant reminder of
the anal plug, and the self-jerking action of my cock.
 Her face was radiant as she watched me quiver.

     She asked me, "What would you like first?" but I
could not give her an answer.  Remove the clips?  Take
me into her mouth? Unhook my arms?  She chuckled at my
indecision, then went to the side of the frame,
unhooked a bar, and swung the frame out, now
perpendicular to the wall.  "You'll like this, I
think," she said, scraping her nails up my ass cheeks,
wiggling the plug to draw a low moan from me.  She
took the weight and fastened it to the anal plug, so
every motion I made was now reflected.

     I heard her step away, then I could not hear her
at all.  My nipples felt on fire, and all the
squirming I could manage in that frame would not budge
them.  But all that movement did shake the weight and
move the plug, making my aching erection harder. 
Where did she go?   I began to worry how long she was
going to leave me and finally yelled "Hello?  Where
are you?"  I got my answer as my ass exploded in pain.
 Whack! Whack!  She had re-entered the room quietly
and now was strapping my ass.  I cried out from the
shock, her only response more laughter.  Every jolt of
the strap seemed to run from the base of my ass cheeks
to the head of my erection.

     When she finally stopped the spanking, I thanked
her in relief, asking what she wanted from me. 
"Aren't you enjoying yourself?" she answered, "Oh,
silly me, you have all these tight muscles that need
to be loosened."  She began stroking my ass, her palms
cool relief against my abused flesh.  She started
moving the anal plug in and out, fucking my ass with
it while the attached weight pulled my cock up and
down in return.  The sensations finally overwhelmed
me, and without her ever touching my cock directly I
came, long and hard, in spasm after spasm, her fingers
continuing to move until I was slumped boneless in the
frame.  I barely whimpered at the pain when she
removed the clips, then released me from the frame.

     Eventually I gathered the strength to get dressed
-- she had done so already and had coffee brewing down
in the kitchen.  We shared a cup together in silence. 
As I got up to leave, she said, "We really must get
together again."  The thought was tempting, but
thinking of my wife, I declined.  "No, I really think
we must" she said more firmly, and handed me a
photograph.

     I hadn't noticed a camera at the time, but the
photograph was clearly recognizable as me, naked in
the frame, nipples clipped, face locked in a rictus of
pleasure, strands of semen flying in the air.  "I have
your number," she said as I left.

     I think she does.

***** {END} ***** Completed 1989; 2059 words.

Copyright (c) 1989 Rajah Dodger (rdodger@hotmail.com)

     This was my second distributed story.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\


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