Me And My Muse - 3 - A Muse Abused
By Jeremy Spencer
Copyright 2004

All rights reserved.  This story may be downloaded for personal use, but any posting to a website, free or otherwise, is strictly forbidden. If you have found this story somewhere other than my page (http://www.asstr.org/~Jeremy_Spencer/) or at Storiesonline, please let me know by filling in a feedback form at either place.

Author's Note: The following is a fictional story. In it, fictional characters have hot, sweaty, unprotected, fictional sex. They live in a fictional world without fictional diseases. You do not. Be careful. All characters in this story are old enough to know what they're doing. Now, on to the show!

*****


When I returned from my walk Erin had apparently decided to be on her best behavior, and there were no more troubles for two days. I was sitting in my study after dinner, again attempting to put words to the page when Erin suddenly appeared in front of me.

"Fuck me?" she asked sweetly, her fingers reaching up to pull at the stiff pink nipples which rested atop her smooth, creamy breasts.

"Sorry," I said apologetically, giving no thought to my earlier threat of punishment. "I'm trying to work."

To my surprise and delight Erin simply nodded and walked to the door. I heard the door close and breathed a sigh of relief as I found myself with much needed peace and quiet. The appearance of solitude lasted little more than five minutes before I was once more accosted, a pair of tits rubbing lightly over the bask of my neck as Erin's fingers played through my hair.

I lurched to my feet and spun around, fire in my eyes.

"That's it!" I cried. I grabbed my muse by the arm and dragged her into the basement. I had purchased everything I needed to properly punish my muse, but had not thought I'd have the opportunity to put it to use so quickly.

Erin looked so hopeful as she stood in front of me I had a difficult time restraining my laughter. She was certainly attempting to play the part of the unwilling recipient of my discipline, but I could see her excitement and sense her arousal.

"Yes?" she asked, the anticipation clear in her voice.

"Strip out of your clothes," I commanded. I watched impassively as the most beautiful creature I had ever known quickly stripped out of her flimsy undergarments. Her chest was flushed and I grinned, knowing that I had been right in my estimation of her arousal. I had always held a certain doubt that Erin's nipples were ever soft, but if they were it was a rare occurrence for her tits were once more capped with tiny bullets of flesh, puckered and swollen.

My nostrils flared as Erin slipped a lacy pair of panties down her smooth thighs. I could see the pink lips of her pussy, hot and swollen with lust, the crotch of her panties already flooded with her juices. Erin bend slightly at the waist, her breasts swaying pendulously in front of her slight form and gracefully picked the lacy undergarment to me for safekeeping.

Naked now, Erin stood in front me, nervously switching her weight from hip to hip as she awaited her punishment.

"Kneel in front of me," I commanded, nodding in approval as she quickly obeyed. "You will unzip my trousers," I continued while she hurriedly complied. "Take out my cock and stroke me to erection, but go no further." Erin nodded happily as she fished inside my underwear, emerging a short time later with my still flaccid member, which she expertly jacked to full hardness in her tiny hand.

""Do you want me to lick it?" she asked hopefully, knowing how much I enjoyed being on the receiving end of one of her expert blowjobs. To her obvious disappointment I shook my head.

"No," I said. "I want you to stand and be quiet." In a state of mild confusion my muse stood, looking at me intently as she awaited further instruction. Choosing not to speak, I maneuvered Erin to the center of the basement where a hook hung down from the ceiling. I reached out and grabbed her by the arms, lashing a rope tightly around her wrists and quickly threading the hook between her hands, effectively suspending my muse from the ceiling.

I stood back momentarily, looking critically at the effectiveness of what I had planned. Erin was taller than I'd thought, and her feet had no trouble reaching the floor, much to my disappointment. It was time to improvise. I grabbed my muse by the hips, reaching roughly between her legs which she willingly parted for me, unsuspecting of my motives.

A three-foot long piece of lumber was perfect for my needs, and I quickly fashioned it into a restraint, attaching loops of rope to each end which I then slipped around her ankles. When I had finished, the extra spread of Erin's legs had in effect shortened her height, and it was now necessary for her to stand on the very tips of toes in order to gain traction on the ground.

I watched my muse struggle in this homemade contraption for a moment before bringing her punishment to its inception. Better to start slowly, drawing her in, arousing her passions steadily until depriving her at the last moment of that which she wanted most. A slender white feather would do the trick and as I walked around her naked form I once again took in her beauty.

The position Erin found herself in caused her pert breasts to thrust away from her chest, and it was here I began my delicate dance with the feather. I teased each firm cone, drawing lazy circles around her taut flesh. I leaned down, replacing the feather with my lips and tongue momentarily, biting down lightly on her pink nipples, still hard with arousal.

As I let her rubbery flesh slip from my mouth Erin gave a whimper of disappointment and I smiled as I watched her struggle to bring her tit back into contact with my lips. She craved contact, the previous weeks had made that evident, but I knew she was unprepared for what she would face this evening.

I was able to spin her body easily through the air, suspended as she was, allowing her to rotate slowly, finally stopping her movements as her lush bottom came into view. I reached down, running a finger between the firm globes of her ass, grazing a fingernail over the pucker of her anus before dipping down to rub lightly over the wet lips of her pussy. I could feel Erin straining against her bonds, but she ultimately failed to push herself back against my finger.

Returning the feather to my right hand, I trailed it delicately between my muse's plump labia, tracing a line through the vertical slit of her quim up to the bump of her erect clitoris. She hissed as the edge of the feather brushed lightly over her most sensitive parts, and I noticed the muscles in Erin's legs quivering with her effort.

My cock was now fully erect, sticking straight out through the opening in my jeans from when Erin had pulled me free. I walked into her view, stroking slowly at my erection, watching as Erin's eyes darted frantically to where a drop of precum hung precariously on the tip of my prick. Erin's tongue darted between her lips, desperate to taste my salty essence, and she sighed wistfully as the drop of fluid fell to the cold floor.

I released my prick, allowing it to bob up and down in front of me, before moving closer to Erin's warm body. Using my cock as a quill, I began rubbing the plump head against her smooth skin, tracing patterns on her hips and buttocks, always leaving a slick trail of my secretions behind. Again she attempted to press herself more firmly against my turgid flesh, but I pulled away, drawing a sigh of disappointment.

"Hold still," I said, reaching above to where her wrists were attached to the steel hook. Erin watched my movements with her eyes, a look of anticipation flitting over her face as she assumed I was freeing her. Instead I released a tiny clasp, which allowed the hook to drop nearer to the floor. Erin was now at a thirty degree angle to the floor, her face perfectly aligned with my cock.

"I want to suck it," she whispered, but I ignored her plea for the moment. Grabbing a chair from the side of the room I sat down, feeling the weight of her breasts pressing into my legs. Erin relaxed her arms, which no longer reached upward above her head but straight up to the ceiling behind her body, stretching the skin of her chest to its utmost. Her nipples were hard pebbles as they dug into my thighs.

Again grabbing the feather, I spent many moments caressing Erin's body, paying particular attention to the plump mound of her pussy. My muse's natural odor was heavy in the damp basement, her spicy musk filling my nostrils with each breath I inhaled. Abandoning the feather, I used my fingers on her sticky wet pussy, thrusting deep within her cunt, bringing Erin closer and closer to the orgasm she frantically desired.

"Do it," she hissed breathily. Hearing her speak once more I removed my fingers from her quim, wiping my sticky digits on her back and thighs. I stood and walked to the table, returning with a leather and plastic contraption in my hand.

I forced Erin's head up, straining her neck as she gazed up at me.

"This is a ball gag," I told her. "This goes in your mouth," I said, holding up the bright red plastic ball. "I told you to be quiet, but you would not. Now you will not speak. Do you understand?'

"Yes," she began. "I'm sorry, it won't..."

Before Erin knew what was happening my hand crashed down on the toned muscle of her left ass cheek, the impact echoing through the basement.

"I said you will be quiet," I hissed. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Erin said and I could see her eyes already filling with tears. Once more I brought my hand down on the smooth flesh of her supple ass.

"Quiet," I repeated, testing her once more. "Do you understand?"

This time, to my relief Erin simply nodded. I considered foregoing the gag, but decided its use would be necessary. I had said I would use it and so I did. Her eyes grew wide as the plastic sphere stretched her jaw wide before slipping into her mouth. I quickly positioned the straps in place, being careful not to twist her luxurious auburn hair, pulling the leather tight around her head.

Standing now, I pulled the winch to return the hook to the ceiling and Erin was pulled vertical once more. The strain on her hips and buttocks was made evident by the muscle spasms in her legs and I grinned, knowing the following would be even harder on her body.  Leaving my muse suspended as she was I walked to the edge of the room, retrieving the next two instruments of her punishment.

The heavy object I dragged behind me on my return caught Erin's immediate attention, although I could see her eyes were full of confusion. What I pulled behind me looked at first to be a simple sawhorse such as you might find on a construction site. It was made of rough hewn wood, raw and green. Into the vertical crosspiece I had pounded dozens of metal studs, some rounded and smooth, others rough and jagged.

By spreading Erin's legs wide I knew I would be able to slip the sawhorse between her thighs and with some tiny adjustments could position her now dripping pussy directly above the abrasive metal.

Because of the strain on her legs and back my muse would face a choice. Her first option would be to rub herself lightly against the metal-tipped sawhorse and hopefully bring herself to her long-withheld orgasm. This would of course be her first desire, but in doing so her legs would ultimately collapse and she would come crashing down on the sharp bits of metal.

The second choice would be to rest heavily against the metal, ignoring the excruciating pain long enough to regain strength in her legs, an option which would provide no release to her pleasure-starved body. I again pulled Erin so she was standing on her toes, making certain she received an unobstructed view of the rough top of the sawhorse as I placed it firmly against the lips of her cunt.

"Do what you want," I shrugged as I sat back in my chair to watch. Erin had evidently not realized the sting the metal would provide as she immediately thrust her hips down, pressing the delicate wetness of her pussy firmly against the sharp object. Her reaction was sudden as she jumped up as if scalded, her hips and back arched to maintain as much distance as possible between the metal studs and her tender inner flesh.

Erin made a thin moaning sound through the plastic gag, her eyes pleading to be freed from her prison, but I shook my head, continuing to watch her struggle. Gradually the strength left her legs and it was inevitable that once again Erin would plummet earthward, crushing her tender lips once more onto the sharp edges beneath.

When Erin had regained sufficient strength to rise once more I grimaced, seeing the puffy, bruised lips of her pussy. My immediate thought was to release her at once, until I noticed a steady trickle of Erin's cream leaking from her cunt onto the sawhorse. She was enjoying this in some way and I swore at that moment to keep my muse on the edge of release for as long as she would last.

The process was repeated three additional times that evening. By the end of our session, Erin's forehead was drenched with sweat and her arms and legs shook from her exertions. The sawhorse itself was sticky and wet from the flood of secretions Erin had released, but my muse had still failed to bring herself to a satisfying climax.

Finally, after more than ninety minutes of this torture I took pity on the poor creature and released her hands from above her head. Erin's weight had been supported for quite awhile solely by the hook on the ceiling, the strength long since gone from her legs and she would have crashed to the sawhorse if I hadn't caught her by the hips.

I laid her down gently on the sawhorse, careful to keep her tender pussy from the rough metal. As she relaxed I could hear Erin wince as the metal bits dug into the tender flesh of her breasts and stomach. My own cock was still erect, as hard as it had been all evening and I found I too was dripping my own juices, staining the front of my pants.

I could take no more and in one swift stroke buried my entire length in Erin's sopping cunt. At the first contact I felt my muse's body begin to quiver at the onset of a massive orgasm. I didn't count the number of my strokes into her pussy, but it could not have been more than two dozen, and Erin continued to climax even through my own torrent of semen.

I coated her insides with my sticky cum, the two of us screaming our near-simultaneous release. When I was finished I quickly pulled my muse from the sawhorse where she was laying, a sweaty, exhausted mass of flesh. I picked her up, my softening prick slipping from her wet cunt, and carried her up the stairs.

She professed herself too tired even for a bath and the two of us laid down on my bed. Erin fell asleep almost immediately and I spend many minutes watching her face, so innocent and peaceful in repose. To my amazement I found I was erect once more and momentarily thought of pleasuring myself manually, but eventually decided against it.

Instead I grabbed the pad of lined paper and pencil I keep on my night stand, in preparation for those times when inspiration strikes unexpectedly. Every so often, in between the frantic scribbling of my pencil, I glanced over at Erin who still lay sleeping beside me, a contented smile playing across her lips.

Story after story flowed from my brain, through my pencil and onto the paper. I laughed quietly, wondering what Erin would think when she woke up.

Smug, no doubt.

My muse had finally come through.  She had done the impossible and I was writing again.

Perhaps I should punish her more often.

End (?)