by
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WARNING: This story is fiction, and should be treated as such. The
following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains
descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex
stories upset you, DO NOT read any further. If it is illegal in your
geographical location, DO NOT read it.
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This work is copyright (2002) by the
author, aka Dick Cummings. This work may be posted on any web site that does not
charge for access to this work. All other rights reserved by author, contact at
DickCummings@hotmail.com for permission prior to use. This work depicts sexual
situations and conduct which may be offensive to some and / or illegal in some
jurisdictions. The author does not engage in or encourage the reader to engage
in illegal or unsafe to any participant. This work depicts violence in sexual
situations. The author does not engage in or encourage the reader to engage in
any activity which might be harmful to any participant.
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The first order of business was to install the IP redirector program on Sonya's computer. I typed a few keystrokes and the installation package was making its way across the Internet. I used the Trojan backdoor account to install and configure the program. Checking the redirector server program on my computer I saw it start to receive and forward packets from Sonya's computer. The activity log window filled with entries listing each packet passing through my server.
After installing and checking the IP redirector I moved on to installing the keystroke capture program. Checking the dump file it produced revealed that it was working and that Sonya must be involved in a chat with someone that she knew intimately. After two minutes the program had caught a few lines of text.
...oh yessss, that feels so good..
..yes, u r pinching my nips w both hands and gawwwwd... it s burning a hole in me my pussys on fire...
...owch my clits throbbing when you thump it like that with you finger no dont stop pls dont stop ...
.. im so wet yesssss fill my hole shake my soul... geezzz its so good to be slick and full
...yeah, dump ur load in my sloppy twat.. god, you're twistin my nipples so hard....
aiiiiiiiiiiiiihhhhhhhh
noooooooo, not my assss!!!! mmmmm.....
cum on frank jerk that rod for me... let me see u cum all over the webcam... o thats so nasty, theres so much dripping out of ur dick... god i d lk to lick it all up for u...
I decided to ignore the effects that reading the one-sided conversation had produced on my own arousal level. Instead I used the connection time to survey Sonya's computer, looking for clues that would help me understand and know this wanton woman better. As I explored the computer's file system I gained the impression of a very methodical and well-organized user. There were no user data files saved in inappropriate locations. The desktop was clean and populated with just a few shortcuts, probably to those programs she used most frequently. There were shortcuts to Word, Excel, Yahoo! Messenger, and Yahoo! Mail.
Checking Sonya's My Documents folder I became even more impressed at her obvious sense of organization and structure. The folder did not contain any documents; instead it contained sub-folders for various subject areas. The structure made it very easy to locate any item that Sonya had saved on her computer. Here's how it was organized:
Just as I started to dig deeper into Sondra's documents the Trojan backdoor program sounded the exit alarm. She was breaking the Internet connection. It was three a.m. I'm in the Central Time zone, so it would be one a.m. in San Francisco. I decided to call it a night and try to get some sleep, so I turned off my computer's monitor and went to bed. Once again I was out like a light, but I don't recall any dreams during my short night's sleep.
BbbrrrrnnnngggBbbrrrrnnnngggBbbrrrrnnnnggg
My trusty old Big Ben alarm clock was jangling away, crowing like a rooster at the break of dawn. I rolled over to the edge of the bed and slapped at it with my arm. I missed the first time, my arm felt like it was made out of lead. The second attempt silenced the beast and I stretch myself, trying to bring some semblance of life to my aching body. The warmth of my bed enticed me, trying to seduce me back to sleep... My eyes drifted shut...
"Good Morning, Mayberry! It's the WKTZ Kuntry Katz Krazy In the Morning Show! I'm Doctor Roscoe and this here's yore six o'clock wake up call. Now to git yur blood stirring, yur butt movin', and yur toes tappin' here's one of my fav-o-rites, Duelin' Ban-jos from that there movie Deliverance..."
tha a da dum da
tha a da dum da
Tha A Da Dum Da
THA A DA DUM DA...
I uttered a load groan and poked at the OFF switch on the clock radio.
Damn! I suppose I had better get up now. If I don't I be really late to work.
I made a quick dash to the kitchen to kick on the coffeemaker. A few minutes later I had endured a brief but bracing cool shower, brushed my teeth, and managed to scrape the razor over my face without ripping it to shreds or inadvertently ruining my mustache or goatee. I splashed on my personal cologne. It was a gift from Coleen on our twentieth wedding anniversary. She had paid a scent shop to make a custom scent just for me. It smelled of wood smoke and cinnamon. Coleen always said that the shop had also added some potent male pheromones, but I never noticed their effect on anyone. I dressed quickly in khaki Dockers and my standard blue knit polo shirt that bears my employer's logo above the left breast pocket. Slipping my feet into brown leather loafers I was almost ready to face the day. All I needed now was a quick dose of caffeine and nicotine to balance my chemistry and I'd be set.
I poured a cup of coffee and moved on into my home office to enjoy the sensation of my heart coming back up to a full sixty-eight beats per minute as I sipped the coffee and inhaled deeply of my first cancer stick of the day. Slowly my morning mental fog cleared and I began to consider the situation. I powered up the monitor and checked the IP redirector logs. There had not been any further activity since three a.m. I logged into my HotMail and found thirty new messages, including three I recognized as being the latest email virus making the rounds. After ascertaining that the Inbox contained only spam and virus messages I selected all and deleted them. I logged out and shut down the monitor. After pouring a cup of joe for the morning commute, I pulled out of the driveway and headed to work.
Work was the typical mixture of pandemonium and tedious routine. Working as a network analyst servicing 1,500 users keeps you busy all the time. The workload was heavier than normal because of the backlog caused by my absence yesterday. I handled twenty work orders, ranging from helping users who were having password problems to setting up a new computer for one of the division heads. The pace kept me so busy that I didn't have much time to dwell on thoughts of Sonya. During my abbreviated lunch break I did manage to sneak in a connection to my computer at home using the VNC remote access software program. Checking the IP redirector logs I saw that Sonya had been online for about two hours beginning at eight thirty a.m. my time.
My workday finally wound up at five p.m. "Thank God it's Friday." I thought as I got into my truck to go home. I stopped by the local Publix supermarket on my way home and picked up a sandwich from the in-store deli. I ordered a Boarshead Ultimate on white, with spice mustard, lettuce, onion, oregano, salt, black pepper, and Parmesan cheese. Finally I had her put just a hint of oil and vinegar, just enough to taste but not enough to drip on my shirt. Publix makes the best sub sandwiches you can get in this town, although any corner sandwich shop in New Jersey would put them to shame. At least they've got the bread right, baking it fresh every day and managing to produce a roll that has real body without being heavy and just the right combination of crispness and chewiness.
I got home just before six p.m. A few minutes later I was settling in at my computer, munching on half an Ultimate and washing it down with swigs from a cold Bud. I checked the IP redirector log and found that Sonya had not been back on line since ten-thirty a.m. I sat eating and pondering the situation. It was quite possible that with the differences in time zones and my work commitments that I would frequently miss the times when Sonya was online. I had to improve my plan and capabilities if I wanted to get a look at the information stored on her computer. After considering the possibilities I went to work. First I revised the Trojan backdoor program, configuring it to make a connection to my computer whenever Sonya was online. Then I wrote a little spider program that would work it's way through the document folders; packing copies of all the files into compressed files there were uniformly sized at 500 KB per file. The spider program would also detect when a connection to my computer was available and transfer copies of the files it was creating to my computer where they would be extracted and reassembled back to their original form. Once the spider program had delivered a copy of all the files it would start over again, looking for new or modified files to send me.
I finished coding and testing the programs a little after two a.m. A few minutes later the Trojan backdoor sounded the alarm indicating that Sonya was online. Ten minutes later the modified Trojan was operational and the spider was starting to crawl through Sonya's My Documents. Slowly the documents began to trickle into the folder I had created for them on my computer. The first folder being processed was the Correspondence\Letters folder. The documents I looked at were very normal. There were a couple to creditors asking for help in resolving misunderstandings related to the accounts, several to charities forwarding small contributions to help their causes, and one letter of application for a position with a local social services agency. All in all, nothing to get very excited about.
Sonya stayed on line just over an hour. During that time the spider managed to deliver ten documents from the Letters folder and began working on the Email folder. There were about thirty spider pack files in the Email folder once the connection was broken. The files were still in the packed form, indicating that the spider was working on a large file and had not completed transmission of all the data. Since it was after three a.m. I decided to call it a night and hit the sack.
Did you ever have one of those dreams where you were naked in public? Well, I did that night, though it was sort of different. I became aware of a rythmic, roaring sound, and felt a clammy coolness throughout my body. Opening my eyes, I found that I was on a desolate beach. Looking down I realized that I was completely naked, with not even a pair of sneakers on my feet to protect them from the pebbles of the beach. As I turned to survey my surroundings I got the feeling that I had been here before, then it dawned on me that this was an isolated beach that I had visited thirty-two years ago while I was stationed in Vallejo, California. If you travel about eighty miles up the coast on US 1 there's a small town named Jenner. Just north of Jenner there was a beach that was accessible from the highway. That beach is where I found myself in my dream, stark naked.
Looking south I noticed several people lounging on the beach, enjoying what seemed to be a foggy morning in early spring. Something prompted me to avoid them, so I turned north and began to make my way along the beach. The beach was shaped like a croissant and was surrounded by steep walls of crumbling stone that climbed up about thirty feet to the higher level where the highway was located. The beach was composed of a mixture of coarse sand and smooth pebbles. It was littered with driftwood and in several places large boulders erupted from the surface, reminding me of jagged teeth in an old hag's gums. As I traveled north I recalled that beyond the headland where the cliffs met the sea, there was another, smaller, more isolated beach. With the innate illogic that's so common in dreams, I decided that since I was naked that's where I needed to be. So I strode briskly along, feeling my cock and balls swaying with every step I made.
Soon I reached the point of the headland and ran out of beach. I had to wade out into the water to make my way past this point. I felt the chill of the Pacific waters as I slogged along, scrambling from rock to rock to get around the point. For a moment I thought that I would not make it, that I would be swallowed up by the waves which seemed to be growing stronger as I struggled. Then a larger wave broke over me and I was pushed forward and stumbled, gasping from the cold clutches of the water, onto the smoother surface of the northern beach. The fog seemed thicker on this side; I could barely see a few feet through the swirling gray mist. Then, above the loud murmur of the waves, I heard a moan coming through the mist. I stumbled toward the sound and as the fog cleared before me I saw her...
At the water's edge, in the center of the beach, there lay a boulder. It was six feet long and three feet wide and protruded about eighteen inches above the sand. The boulder had been worn smooth by the action of the waves over the ages. There, lying on that boulder, was Sonya. She too was unclothed. She lay on her back. Her ankles and wrists were bound by coarse manila ropes, stretched spread eagle on the stone. The rope also crossed her body three times, running above her breasts, under her breasts, and across her hips. It was pulled tight and dug into her soft flesh as she struggled against it, leaving crimson welts on her skin. Her feet were pointed toward the ocean and her head hung back over the gentle curve of the boulder. A red bandana was pulled tight across her eyes and bound behind her head. As each wave pounded ashore, the waters surrounded the boulder and spray sprang from the west face of the boulder and fell across her widespread thighs. On each cycle the seventh wave crested higher and pounded down directly on the boulder, immersing her completely before retreating to the sea.
Sonya's dusky skin gleamed like molten gold. Her jet black hair was soaked and clung to the surface of the eastern face of the boulder, reaching almost to the ground behind her. Her breasts lay heavily on her chest, quivering like mounds of pudding, sagging off to each side of her body. Her huge areolas were highly contracted with their surfaces rough and crinkled and topped by magnificently hard nipples. Each nipple stood almost an inch long and was the diameter of my thumb, reminding me of the teats on a young calf.
Sonya struggled against her confinement, heaving her body upward against the ropes that bound her to the stone. Her breath was harsh and labored and she groaned with each breath she released. She strained, striving to lift her head and I noticed the rope looped about her forehead. Looking closer I found that it ran beneath her back. Stepping closer to her feet I saw that the rope emerged in her crotch. It was buried in the cleft of her buttocks and pulled up through the gash of her twat. It crossed directly over her clitoris and mons de venus and was looped tightly around the lower strand of rope that crossed her hips. It continued up to each of the other ropes that confined her, looping around each in turn and ended in a hangman's noose that circled her neck. Every movement she made pulled the rope into her flesh and ground it against the swollen nub of her clit, producing moans of frustrated pleasure from her lips....
I stepped closer and extended my right hand towards her right nipple. Lightly I stroked it between my fingertips. Sonya jerked as I touched her and moaned louder. I reached across and gave her left nipple the same treatment, just barely touching it, brushing light as a feather on the swollen teat. The moan grew into a groan of frustrated pleasure. I lower my head to her right breast and extended my tongue, using just the tip to flick the nipple, then tracing a circle around the areola. Through the salty taste of the sea I could also taste her fear and lust on the tip of my tongue. My lips closed on the tip of the nipple and then I sucked hard and pulled it deep between my tight lips. Sonya stiffened and trembled as I suckled at this teat. My right hand returned to her right breast and pulled and kneaded at the mass of her breast. My left hand reached across her body and my fingers twirled and twisted that nipple harshly while my lips suckled on the other.
"ohhhhh gawd, yyessssss, yeeeesssss , aiiiiihhhh. mmmmmmhhhhmmmm...." she moaned as I mauled at her massive mounds of glorious flesh. Then I simultaneously pinched the left nipple harshly and ground the right between my teeth, sucking and biting for what seemed like eternity.
"GOD!!!! OOOOOHHHHHH NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Sonya's voice screamed as a wave crashed down, immersing us, slamming her hard against the boulder. Her body became totally rigid for a long moment and then she slumped limply under me, moaning softly in her release....
I released her breasts and stepped to the west end of the boulder. Gazing at her cunt I saw that it was splayed open by the rope. The gash of her twat lay shining moistly before me as I climbed between her thighs. Leaning forward I inhaled and drew her scent into me. The strong musk of her arousal stirred my blood as I inhaled. My tongue leapt out and stroked her outer lips, first on the left, then on the right, running from the perineum along each fold up to the crest above the hood of her clit. Each flick of my tongue was rewarded with a sharp jerk of her hips, straining upward against the ropes, and a loud, wailing moan. I moved from the outer lips to give each inner lip the same treatment, lingering briefly near the moist dark cavern of her vagina on each trip. Her hips hunched wildly under the ministrations of my tongue, grinding the rope hard against her clit. Then I used my left hand to pull the rope aside. Her nub stood swollen and red and I could see it throbbing with each beat of her heart. The tip of my tongue flicked quickly across her clit, strumming it rapidly in an up and down motion. I heard her moan shift and become a continuous high-pitched keening sound, undulating in time with my strokes. Suddenly I swirled my tongue, engulfing her throbbing nub first with the flat of my tongue and then encircling it with my lips. I started a pulsating suction with my lips, drawing her clit in and out then grazing it with the edge of my teeth. My right hand shifted to her vagina and found it sopping, literally gushing with cunt juice. Placing my index and forefinger together, I plunged them into her pussy, rotating and wagging them up and down as they pushed deeper. Sonya was going wild beneath me, grinding and hunching her pelvis, forcing me deeper into her slit. My two smaller fingers trailed over the crinkly bud of her anus, stroking the tight sphincter with each thrust. Her juices filled the crevasse of her ass and I began to work the two smaller fingers into her asshole. As the tips of my fingers slipped past the tight rosebud I paused everything for a moment and heard Sonya groan in frustration. Then, simultaneously, I bit her clit, slammed all four fingers into her cunt and anus and curled the two in her cunt upward to press the rough spot on the roof of her pussy that I knew to be her G spot. Sonya's entire body trembled and then became rigid. Her cunt and asshole clamped down so tight I though I would lose my fingers. Her moan became a full scream that echoed from the cliffs around us before being devoured by the roar of the sea. After an eternity she slumped limp beneath me...
I rose to my knees and realized that I was more aroused than I had ever been in my life. My penis jutted stiffly out before me, bobbing up and down as I shuffled forward between Sonya's thighs. I leaned forward and caught myself on my hands to avoid crushing her, then, in one swift motion, I plunged into her. Her grotto of pleasure, slick, hot, and open, welcomed my cock into the depths of her body and then, like the Sioux welcomed Custer to the Little Big Horn, I was grasped tightly in the grip of her cunt as it clamped hard around me. Then the pressure eased slightly and I began sliding in and out in the age old universal rhythm of lust, using long, full strokes and punctuating them randomly with hard deep hunches to drive that extra silly millimeter deeper. Sonya thrust against me, moving in the syncopated beat that gives so much to the dance of lust. I was strong and seemed to have endless energy and stamina. I raised my hands to clasp her ample breasts, cupping those enormous nipples between my thumbs and forefinger. I used my grip on her mounds to pull myself harder into her body with each thrust of my loins. The waves crashed over us more often now, as the tide rose higher. The water covered us and then flowed away, caressing us like a third lover. I moaned her name urgently as we fucked, soaring higher and higher. Three times Sonya climbed the stairway to orgasm, each time pulling me to her by the sheer strength of the contractions of her garden of delight, each time her voice joined mine and urged me on....
"Sonya, oh Sonya, so dam good..."
"Ooohhh fuck meeee, yeeessss, fill me..."
I felt the tightness in my groin as my balls pulled up tight against me and my rod began to throb and pulse. I knew that my completion was upon me and that I was beyond the point of no return. Just then we were slammed by the largest of waves. My cock erupted with what felt like a tidal wave of molten lava. As my seed pumped from my prick I felt Sonya heave against me, trying to draw me to the depths of her womanhood. Her cunt clamped tight on my dick, rippling in spasms that ran from the mouth of her vagina to the depths of her cervix. For a moment the universe seemed to collapse inward on us and we mingled, two becoming one...
A triplet of large waves crashed over us and pulled me back from the warm haven that had become my universe. I lifted myself to my knees. Sonya's pussy clung to my prick, unwilling to release me, then with a pop like a cork from a champagne bottle my dickhead left the wet warmth of Sonya's garden of delights. I struggled to my feet beside the boulder. Glancing down my eyes caught the dull gleam of large K-Bar knife lying half buried in the sand. I reached down and grasped the handle. It fit my palm just like the one that was stowed in my desk drawer at home. I tested the edge against the hair of my left forearm. Whoever owned this knife knew what they were doing with a stone. The hair fell before the blade without even a tug, leaving a small bare spot where the blade had stroked.
The blade rose in my hand, seeking Sonya's throat. My hand trembled and then, swiftly, I sliced....
.... the noose from around her neck. A few more quick strokes and the ropes that bound her fell away. I bent and scooped her up, one arm behind her neck, the other under her knees, and strode higher up the slope of the beach. After twenty paces I stopped and lowered Sonya to her feet. She swayed for a moment and then collapsed to her knees. Leaning back with her hands behind her, she lifted her face as if to gaze at me. The bandana still covered her eyes. Her lips moved, struggling to get out the words...
"Who... who ARE YOU?" she beseeched me.
"I am He that would be your Master." I replied.
"Will you submit to Me?"
The fog swirled thicker about us and the sea roared as the waves pounded against the shore. I could hardly see her as Sonya struggled to move her lips to give her reply. Then as they began to move the fog became so thick I could no longer see her and the roar of the waves filled my ears. I struggled to draw closer to her but found my self confined. Tossing violently, I found that I was tangled in the sheets of my bed. The linens engulfed me and seemed to be total soaked. I inhaled deeply and smelled a heady mixture of odors that seemed to consist of the funk of sex and just a hint of salty sea breezes...
Meanwhile, a continent away, in the city by the bay, Sonya stirred restlessly in her sleep, moaning and mumbling.
"Yes Master, i will submit."
"Yes my Master, i will serve You."
She woke with a start and clutched in panic, one hand to her groin and the other to her breasts. She found the valley of her thighs filled with her juices and her nipples throbbing violently against her fingers. She reached up and pulled the sleep mask from her eyes and looked frantically about as if unsure of her surroundings. Her nostrils flared wide as she inhaled deeply and caught first the smell of sea breezes and then a hint, just a hint, of wood smoke and cinnamon...