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Date: Mon, 23 May 2005 03:19:11 +0000
===================
Reposted as collected. Authors not wishing to
be reposted please contact MstrPat at pats_dungeon@hotmail.com
and I will delete/not post your stories.
Erotic story: A Night at Home: D/s style
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A Night at Home: D/s style
Added: Mar 15 2000Author: NicoleTimes read: 1428 Avg vote: 7.94 (18 votes)
For you, Master. A meeting with your Dom friend and his pretty slave.
If you like BDSM, click here to visit Dark Obsession! It is sure to keep you
"tied up" for a while... ;-)
She is very beautiful; I cannot deny that. Her face is flawless, each
feature delicate, drawn with the clean boldness of outline that pale
women almost never possess. She is a picture, with her exotic hooded,
slanting eyes and the curve of her crimson lips. Her figure is a
sculpture of gold. I am almost jealous. Almost. My Master tells me that
I am beautiful, though, and if in his eyes I am, then never will I be
jealous of another's charms.
I sit on his lap with his arms about my waist, trembling very slightly
at this new and different situation. It pleases my Master to see me with
another woman. I must admit; I too have entertained similar fantasies.
My dream partner has always been a stranger with a coloring reminiscent
of my own, and a beautiful body. My Master shifts his firm grip on my
hip a bit, and I blink, coming out of my daydreams and entering a world
where fantasy has come true.
My Master is gentle with me, knows my great weakness of shyness, and so
we ease slowly into the evening activity. We've been sitting here for a
while exchanging idle conversation while the men drink small glasses of
their preferred liquor. From all appearances, it looks like two couples
calling on each other for the evening. How deceiving appearances can be.
What happens behind closed doors, even in suburbia... I amuse myself
with these thoughts, smiling a little to myself without realizing. When
I look up, I look into my Master's eyes, a faint indulgent smile on his
lips.
"What are you thinking that appeals to you so, little one?"
I smile at him. "Master, I was thinking that this situation is so
surreal," I admit.
I hear deep-voiced agreement from across the room and look over. "Yes,
slave, it is." The other Master sits with his slave kneeling at his
feet, his hand wrapped in the heavy fall of her dark hair. I meet his
eyes, which are cool and gray and piercing. He does intimidate me so.
"Yes, sir," I whisper, and nod slowly. I lower my eyes to my hands,
shyly twisting the hem of my skirt.
Master takes my chin in his hands and forces me to meet his gaze. "Look
at me, little one."
"Yes, sir," I murmur, raising my head and looking wide-eyed into my
Master's face. It makes me feel a little dazed, this unabashed contact.
The eyes, they say, are the windows to the soul. I gaze at him, and I
worship.
"Who's are you?"
"I'm yours, Master, I'm your slave and your slut, sir," I reply
breathlessly. The answer is automatic, but the emotion is as heart-felt
as the first time I ever spoke those words. There is pride in them, and
a deep-rooted truth.
"Do you love me?" His voice is calm, both proud and caressing, coaxing
the right words, the desired emotion, from the lips and heart of his
property.
"Oh, yes, sir, more then anyone or anything!"
"Do you want to please me, slave?"
"Yes, Master, always. I exist to serve you and to please you."
There is a faint smile on his lips as he runs his hands down my arms.
His touch, so simple, sends chills through my entire body. "Be
respectful then, slave."
"Yes, Master."
"Apologize to David, he is your Master's friend."
"Yes, Master." I slide off of my Master's lap and move delicately on my
hands and knees to David. When I reach him I bow my head. "I am truly
sorry, sir, if I was not as respectful as I should have been. You are my
Master's friend, and therefore I hold you in the very highest esteem,
sir." He places his large, heavy hand on my head, pulls his fingers
slowly, deliberately through the thick layers of my short silky hair.
"I forgive you."
"Thank you, sir."
He looks up at my Master. "Is your little slave over her shyness, yet,
Shawn?" His voice is calm, level, but I feel shamed, like I am
reflecting poorly on my Master. This cannot be allowed. I swallow and
crawl humbly back to my love, pressing my forehead lightly against his
knee. My voice quivers only a very slightly.
"Please, Master... please may I undress for you and for our guests?"
Master nods slightly, his eyes very kind. "Yes, little one, you may. You
shall start the night for us."
I stand up before my small audience and the heat of their gaze burns me.
I look to my Master, gaining strength in my love for him. I slowly start
unbuttoning my blouse, the thin black silk rustling in a whisper. I need
barely touch the buttons for them to slip out of their fasteners, and
before I know it, the blouse is laid open. Hesitating only a moment, I
slip it off my shoulders and it falls silently to the floor.
"Take off your skirt first, before any lingerie," Master instructs.
"Yes, sir." I unfasten the matching black skirt. My actions, the
situation, suddenly strike me with such clarity, and something twists in
my middle. There is a thrill in exhibitionism. I am suddenly very much
less nervous. I unzip the side vent and it echoes loudly in the thick,
crackling silence of the room. I let it slide down my bare legs into a
rustling pile at my feet. I step out of it, toss it to lie with its
discarded other half, and stand there clad only in very thin satin; a
glossy red demi-bra and very brief panties. I feel my Master's eyes hot
on my body, pale blue moving over exposed golden flesh. And I feel the
others' eyes, as well; steel and amber, coolness warmed with desire. I
am burning hot; my legs feel weak. My pussy is moist, and my little show
gets me wetter by the minute.
"Spread your legs slightly," he directs.
"Yes, Master." I stand with my legs half a foot apart as eyes run
hungrily up the insides of my thighs. I wonder if they can see how
aroused I am. My face is burning but it feels good to me. I reach behind
and unclasp my bra, sliding off one strap and then the other, letting it
drop from my hand. My breasts spring proudly into view, not large, but
firm and soft, with stiff dusky dark nipples.
"Are you aroused, little one?" His voice is gentle. He always sounds so
very good to me.
"Yes, Master."
"Tell me."
"My pussy is soaking wet, Master, my body is burning. I'm swollen and
hot and so sensitive, so horny."
"Who is your Master?"
"You are, sir! You're my Master, and I'm your slave, you own me, sir,
and I love you so much."
He nods, considers this for a moment. Then, "Come to me, slave." I move
close to him. We are practically the same height when he is sitting and
I am standing. He turns slightly in his seat, positions my body
carefully so that our guests can clearly see our actions.
"Little one, know that there are others here to watch and be
entertained, but do not let it affect you. Act as if it were only your
Master."
"Yes, Master," I whisper. He is looking intently at me, not smiling, but
nor is he displeased.
"Kiss me slave," he orders then, almost tenderly, and I lean forward and
our lips meet. The way he tastes and smells and feels is driving me
crazy. I literally start when he places his hands on my breasts. His
fingers caress me slowly, remembering every inch of me. He squeezes my
breasts and then rubs my nipples with his thumb. It is feeling so good
to me, and I let out a low, involuntary moan. "Do you like that, slave?"
"Oh god, yes Master. Thank you, Master."
He takes his hands off of me and I almost cry out with the despondency
of my flesh untouched by his caress. My skin burns where his fingers
brushed.
"Take off your panties, slave."
"Yes, Master." I cannot help but blush as I hook the fabric with my
thumbs and slide it down my thighs. When it reaches the ground I step
out of it, and stand there completely naked. I could never be a model
because I am short and my figure is slight, but my Master enjoys my body
and as I stood there I was not ashamed. I felt their gaze run over the
fresh youth of my gentle curves, and it was not unpleasant to stand
there on display. Master cups his hand over mine, panties still hanging
from the hook of my thumb. He brings both of our hands to his face and
inhales deeply.
"This smells like you," he tells me.
"Yes, sir."
"I like the way it smells."
"Yes, sir," I breathe. He lets them drop to the floor and nudges my legs
apart with his knee. His hand trails down my stomach and touches the
silky dark hair that covers my pussy.
"You're very hot down here, slave."
"Yes, Master, I- I'm very aroused, Master."
He rubs my hot swollen lips, pinches them firmly. "Your lips are very
wet," he says, rubbing them, getting his hand dripping.
"Yes, sir," I moan. He puts his fingers to my lips and I open them so he
can slide them onto the wet pad of my tongue. I suck off my own juice,
close my eyes and breathe in my own musky sex smell.
"Slave..." he starts softly.
I open my eyes. "Yes, Master?"
"Are you standing in the presence of your Master who needs release?"
"Yes, Master... I mean, no, Master." I drop to my knees with my thighs
shoulder-width apart.
"That's better, slave." He strokes my hair. "What do you want to do for
me now, slave?"
I flush, for I have never begged for my Master in front of others
before. My voice is low when I plead. "Oh, Master, please Master, I beg
you... I want to suck your cock, Master. Please let me suck you; please
drive your cock down my throat, so hot and hard. I want to make you cum;
I want to taste you, sir. Please Master, oh please I beg to suck on
you."
"I don't know, slave, you're not convincing me. I don't think you want
to suck my cock, slave. I don't think that you really want to pleasure
your Master."
"Oh, Master, please, I'm your slave, your slut, your whore, your tramp."
I'm desperate now, whimpering with my need, not caring who hears.
"Please let me suck your cock. Please look down at your little slut with
your cock down her throat, fucking her face until you cum all over her."
He nods slightly his assent. "Yes, slave. You may suck me, if you
please."
"Thank you, Master." I lean forward and carefully unbutton his trousers
with my teeth, sliding the zipper down with my lips, slowly and
carefully. With my teeth I tug his boxers over his throbbing cock,
freeing it. I wonder what this looks like to our guests, this action,
this servitude, so intimate. I like it. I like people seeing what I am,
what I do, for my Master.
His cock is hard and pulsing, the head of it slick and shiny. Gingerly I
kiss the head lightly before running my tongue around in a slow circle.
My Master moans and slides his hands in my hair. I slowly start to take
more of it. The tip reaches my throat and I breathe hard through my nose
as I slide him in further, until my lips and nose are brushing against
his pubic hair. I pause a moment to adjust to the full feeling in my
mouth, and then I begin to slowly bob my head up and down, his cock
moving in and out, thrusting deep. I reach out and caress his balls
lightly, squeeze them very gently. He starts to thrust his hips and I
sit there limply taking it. It feels as if he has swelled even bigger.
My pussy throbs, sticky and wet between my thighs. My Master is starting
to grow more urgent, driving himself into my mouth as he holds my head
firmly, almost bruising my lips. I close my eyes and savor the sensation
of his brutal pleasure, revel in his taste and his smell.
He is panting as he grunts out with each thrust, "Slave, do you want me
to cum? Do you want your Master to cum all over you?"
I mumble, "Oh, yes, Master, please cum, Master, oh please cum on me,"
but the words are meaningless against the thick cock in my mouth. Master
pulls out of my mouth until only the tip brushes my bottom lip.
"Well, do you?"
"Please, Master, yes!" I cry. He pauses for one long moment, and the
tension in the room is so thick it is almost palpable. Then he is
cumming, spurting against my face and lips and chest, running over my
tongue and dribbling down my chin onto my neck in hot milky white
streams. I lick my lips and say softly, "Thank you Master, for allowing
me to suck your cock. Please may I lick you clean?"
"Yes, slave, you may," he says, getting his breath back. My pink tongue
reaches out and carefully cleans off his cock and his balls lovingly,
reverently. I catch my breath as well, lost in my actions and my love
for my Master.
The rustle of clothing as it hits the floor makes us both turn towards
our guests, returning to earth with a shock. Kay has stripped nude, and
all eyes are glued to her womanly curves. To gaze at her figure is to
think of sex. David reaches forward, caresses his slave's body. He looks
at me. "Little slave, what do you think of my Kay?"
I meet her eyes squarely, calmly, and then turn back to David, lowering
my gaze slightly to show respect. "She is very beautiful, sir," I reply.
He nods. "Yes. She is. Anyone would think so," he says, with obvious
pride. I study his face a moment, the joy in it as he gazes at his great
love. For she is his love, as surely as she is his slave. Often the
lines of love and lust are blurred in D/s relationships, are thin
boundaries that cross and mesh seamlessly. My own Master, I believe him
my soul mate as he walks next to me down the street, or as he thrusts
his cock inside of me. He owns me; heart, mind, body, and soul, and
there is nothing I would not do for him. If it pleases him, it shall be
done. I know that he would be pleased if his friend thought well of me.
My eyes move over my fellow slave and then I hear a voice asking
plaintively, "Sir, if it pleases you, I beg to touch your slave." And
then I realize it is my own. There is a long silence. David looks at me
appraisingly, his hands slowly rubbing over Kay's shoulder, a caress,
but with an air of ownership. His eyes are icy, cloudy with
deliberation.
Finally, he says, "Yes, Nicole. You may touch my Kay." I let out a
breath I did not realize I had been holding. The room collectively lets
out a breath. The pivotal point here. Let the games begin.
I look to my own Master now, and he nods his assent.
"Thank you, Master."
Kay moves closer to me and we sit facing each other in the middle of the
room, two slaves at play for their Master's pleasure. Deep inside, my
sex pulses, and I know that it is not only for my Master that I touch. I
reach out gingerly and touch her pretty hair first, trace so lightly the
bones of her face with my fingertip. I trail my hands down her neck,
feel the quick pulsing beat on the side, and move over her shoulders to
the elegant curves of her collarbone. I reach the tops of her breasts,
pause for a moment, and then hesitantly move downward still. My hands
cup her full swells, thumbs graze against her stiff tiny dark nipples
with their exotic golden rings. Then I am less hesitant, and freely
touch her lovely chest. I learn then the ways that each woman's breasts
are different, and the ways that they are the same. I lean forward and
kiss the soft valley between, which is warm, and heaves as my lips touch
it. I kiss slowly all over her breasts with light, feathery soft kisses.
She puts a slender hand on my neck. I wonder if she feels my body
burning, aching with my need. My pussy is leaking, dripping, trickling
juice down the inside of my thigh. I exhale hotly.
"Please," she whispers. I take her nipple in my mouth; taste the cool
bitter metal against my tongue. I close my eyes and suck on her hot nubs
of flesh. I love and cherish each and every way that my Master differs
from me; the way his flesh is so different then my own; to smell, to
touch, to taste. I am finding, though, that the flesh of another female
is pleasant, as well. I move down further, kiss the soft skin of her
belly, my hands running down the sides of her body.
I feel the heavy grip of my Master's touch on my shoulders and
immediately turn away from Kay. Pretty playthings are lovely fun, but
there is none like my Master. He turns my face to him and kisses me.
"Oh, Master," I breathe. He kisses me again, and then again. The way his
lips feel against mine makes me feel faint. Then he turns my head gently
back to my fellow slave.
David is sitting languidly in the chair, legs carelessly splayed. Kay
kneels with her back to us, face buried in his lap, thighs spread wide.
I suck in my breath; the sight is so arousing. "Lay on your back, slide
between her legs," Master commands low in my ear.
"Yes, Master... oh, please Master..."
"Shh, little one. I know."
"Yes, Master." I move closer to her and lie on my back between her legs.
My head and shoulders touch the base of the chair and I am enveloped in
her heady hot sex smell. I slide my hands up the inside of either of her
thighs, and she lowers herself carefully onto my face. I reach out
delicately with the tip of my tongue and lick at her swollen lips. I
like the way she tastes, musky and wet. I run my tongue up and down the
slit of her cunt, lapping at her desire. I've never eaten another woman
before, but I follow my instinct and from the sounds Kay makes I'm not
doing a half bad job.
I'm sucking on her swollen pussy lips, hard, parting them with my
tongue. I feel my Master spread my legs. The cool air touches my hot,
hot pussy, and then it is his hand rubbing me and I moan into the pussy
pressed against my mouth. "So wet, little one," Master murmurs softly.
He's rubbing the inside of my juice-smeared thighs. "Don't stop, little
one." I sigh into the slave on top of me and move my hand to her
dripping cunt, slide a finger inside her quivering heat. I hear David's
sounds of pleasure from above, and the soft feminine moans of my female
partner. My Master bends my legs at the knee, spreading me wide. His
lips are soft and teasing on my sensitive swollen pussy as he rubs his
face against me. Then he reaches up and rubs my nipples, pinches them
rhythmically with his fingers. I add another finger to Kay and start to
fuck her deeply with my digits. My mouth moves to cup her clit firmly
with wet lips as my tongue slowly circles her bud. She is so stiff, and
so wet, literally dripping desire onto my face. Master pushes his tongue
inside of me and I can feel myself trembling hard with need. Faint, in
the distance, I hear David groan, and I feel Kay's slight movements as
she takes his passion. Then, her urgent begging gasped out, and finally,
his soft assent.
She starts to become more aggressive in getting her own, working herself
on my fingers, impaling herself deeply as she thrusts up and down. I
suck on her clit harder as I feel her getting more feverish. Master
continues his slow torture, as the familiar ache starts deep inside. His
hands and tongue know me so well as he tastes me from the inside out.
Kay is making little mewing sounds as she grinds against me, gliding up
and down my soaked hands and pushing her clit more thoroughly into my
warm, willing mouth. I am making my own small sounds as I feel my Master
rub his cock against my lips, then between them, bumping against my
clit. I feel her hips tense, and then she cums, squeezing my fingers
hard and long with her pussy muscles, flooding my mouth and smearing my
face. It lasts long moments, slowing gradually until she pulls herself
from my face and collapses to the side, gasping for breath.
My Master pulls me by the hips easily and I slide closer to him across
the floor. "Are you aroused, little one?"
"Yes, Master, oh please, Master!"
He continues to rub himself slowly against me. "What do you want me to
do, slave?"
"Please Master, please... your cock, please fuck me, please fill me,
please stretch me, please pound me. Please Master I worship your cock!
Please I beg you, Master, your slut begs you for cock!"
He pauses in his motions and meets my eyes. "You beg for my cock, little
slave?"
My voice is hoarse, tremulous with desire, begging, needing, aching for
release. "Yes, Master, please, your slave begs for your cock, begs for
you to fuck her."
He waits another beat, and then he slams into me, his full length
filling me, stretching me. I cry out, lift my hips slightly to
accommodate his thrusts. I close my eyes and whimper as he works me,
uses me, my cunt so hot and tight around his cock, pulsing against him.
My Master is insatiable, rougher then he's ever been. I open my eyes and
gaze up at him. I see him looking past me and turn my head slightly.
Kay is lying on the floor with her legs spread and her long hair fanned
about her. David is on top of her, pinning her to the ground, his hands
on top of hers. It's an incredible sight. The room is filled with the
smell of sex. In my wildest fantasies, it did not feel half so good as
it does in this reality.
Master gently turns my head back to him and I meet his gaze, looking
into his eyes while he fucks me. I lie limp and feel the pressure grow
and grow, so urgent, I need it so bad. All the long night's teasing and
torment is driving me crazy. His thrusts are shorter now, and harder.
Our bodies are slick with sweat; damp heat slamming into damp heat.
I am so close I don't think I can hold off any longer. "Master please
please Master please let me cum oh god please let me cum!" My thighs are
trembling, pussy quivering as his thick cock fucks me, sliding in and
out, deep, filling my tiny pussy, stretching me.
His words are drawn out, thrust by thrust, "You... beg... me... to...
cum... slave...?"
"Please Master! Please please Master god oh please Master I beg you! I
am your slave and your slut and your tramp and your whore. I am yours,
your property, and I cum only for you, want only for you. Only you make
me feel this good! Please Master I worship you I worship your cock I beg
you Master please let me cum for you, Master!" I hear moaning that is
begging, aching, needing... I do not even know exactly who is crying
out, anymore. Fucking, fucking... the room is filled with the sounds of
hard fucking and slaves begging.
He pauses one long moment, gasps out, "Cum, slave," and drives into me
as we both cum. I tighten around him, pussy contracting and milking him
as he explodes within me. Dimly, I hear the sounds of our guests also
reaching the height of their passion. This makes it better, but I can't
tell who spurs whom on, who came first. Then it is oblivion. Brightness,
colors, white heat rips through me and I lose myself to this ancient
feeling.
I did not realize I was crying out until I come down slowly and quiet
myself. Master kisses me gently as the room comes down, the air thick
with spent lust. "Thank you, Master, thank you so much, Master," I
murmur, as does my fellow slave. Minutes pass as we all regain strength.
My eyes are still closed as my Master quietly speaks to David. I hear
the sound of a door opening, and then it closes softly. Master sinks
back next to me. "What happened, sir?"
"They're going to bed, little one," he explains gently.
"Yes, sir." I'm so satisfied, so sleepy.
He kisses me, pulls me closer to him. "Did you enjoy it, little one?"
"Yes, Master; it was so wonderful." I open my eyes a little and see him
smiling at me.
"You've pleased me," he whispers, and I smile back, so very, very happy
to hear those three simple words.
"Thank you, Master."
"Go to sleep now."
"Yes, Master." How nice it is to be so happy, I think, and I feel the
warmth of his body pressed against mine as we drift off to sleep.
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