Sunday, April 19, 2009

Room & Board, Part 4 - Veronique Shows Up

In Part 4, Melanie's life suddenly gets much more intense. It's probably a good idea to read the other parts first:
Part 1 , Part 2 and Part 3

"So I'll see you at seven, then. Can't wait. Uh huh. I've got just the place in mind. Bye," Jack hung up the phone and turned to Melanie.

"That was Veronique, an old friend of mine who's in town," he said. "We haven't seen each other in over ten years. She's going to stop by here for a minute before we go out so she can see the place, and you can meet her. I think you'll like her."

Melanie felt instantly panicked. She tried to calm herself. She shouldn't be jumping to conclusions, she told herself, but she had a basic fear for her status as his sole sexual outlet.

Veronique showed up a few minutes early, when Melanie was still trying to work out the best way to look nonchalant on the couch with her book. She was pissed at herself for being so worked-up. She had even changed twice, trying to find the best appearance for this meeting. She'd settled on what she hoped was an optimal cute-young-roommate look. Plain black skirt and tights, a "pirate radio" t-shirt which displayed her boobs well, and her short black hair in little pigtails.

She watched with a flutter in her stomach as Jack embraced Veronique in a long, close hug. She turned out to be a tall, truly beautiful woman, around Jack's age, with ice-blue eyes, cropped blonde hair and sensuous lips. She wore jeans and a short black motorcycle jacket, which hung magnificently on her lean fashion-model physique.

Melanie got up as Jack introduced them, and tried to mumble something intelligent. Veronique greeted her perfunctorily, then shrugged off her jacket and tossed it on the table, causing Melanie to shut down almost completely.

"What do you think," Veronique said with an impish grin, turning and displaying herself to Jack with her hands on her hips.

"Wow," said Jack, obviously surprised.

Veronique was wearing just a simple black tank top which encased her small breasts without a bra. Tracing out from under it a host of truly striking tattoos sprawled from her chest and over her finely muscled upper arms and shoulders.

"Well?" she said, clearly enjoying the effect, her growing smile giving her a radiant beauty. "Forgot how to speak?"

"Wow," he said again. "That's amazing work. When did you have that done?"

"It's been a project over the past several years," she answered, turning around so they could see that designs travelled across her back, twining together between her shoulder blades.

"How much more is there?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," she answered mischievously. "Maybe if you play your cards right I'll show you later."

Melanie just stood there on the sidelines turning cold inside. She couldn't have said if she had cause to be jealous. This was something they'd never talked about, but she knew that their arrangement was really supposed to be a non-relationship. She tried to calm herself. She didn't even have any evidence that Veronique was anything to be worried about, but she didn't know what she'd do if she had to share Jack.

"Roommate, huh?" Veronique said, giving Melanie the once over with a brilliant smile, then turning back to Jack. "I didn't know you needed the money."

"Well, it's not about money. Melanie takes care of the place. Keeps it all together."

"Uh huh. So you're the live-in maid?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Melanie replied awkwardly.

"It's more than that, Veronique. I was tired of living alone. It's nice to have a roommate again."

Again Veronique's gaze travelled over Melanie's body. "I bet," she said.

Melanie couldn't think of how this could go any worse. As Jack got Veronique a drink and took her on a quick tour of the apartment, Melanie went back to her work on the couch, grateful that she'd put things in such order in the bedroom. She'd even put in an effort to make her room look like she actually slept there.

Then Jack and Veronique went out, leaving her alone at night for the first time since she'd moved in. She did her best not to mope around, and put in some productive hours of studying, but dinner alone was hard, and come bedtime when he was still not back she felt downright depressed. She stood looking at Jack's big bed for a time, and then trudged down the hall and wrapped herself in blankets on the little couch in her room instead.

When Jack still was not back in the morning, Melanie cleared out and went to campus. She just didn't know how to face him. She tried to tell herself that it would pass. Veronique lived thousands of miles away, her visit would end at some point, and Jack's rampant libido would bring his attention back to her. Still, she didn't like the way it had all gone. Jack's behavior especially had made the reality of their arrangement strike home. She was just there to clean the place, and provide herself for his use, when he actually needed it.

She was in for another shock, however. When she came in the door at the end of the day, they were there on the couch, laughing, and an unfamiliar suitcase was in the hall.

"Welcome home, cutie," Veronique called to her, with what looked like a genuinely warm smile.

"Hi," Melanie said dully, then quickly made her way to her room. She plunked her stuff down on the couch and then sat there, staring out the window. She wasn't quite sure if she could handle this. Jack came into the room and stood there.

"Hey... You look upset. I'm sorry."

She looked up at him, and he truly looked like he was.

"I guess we should have talked about this sort of thing before," he said.

"I guess so," was Melanie's curt reply. She looked back out the window. She felt him sit down next to her.

"How long is she going to stay?"

"Just a few days." They sat in silence a bit.

"I'm thinking maybe I'll go and stay with Susan. Give you guys some room."

"Melanie, I want you to stay," Jack said. "You don't need to feel threatened by this thing with Veronique. It's not going to grow into something. She and I just..." He sat and thought. "We have unfinished business, I suppose."

"And what am I supposed to do while she's here?"

"Well..." he started and trailed off awkwardly. "Veronique's an interesting woman. Very open-minded. I think you should try and give her a chance."

Melanie turned and looked at him for a bit.

"Open-minded? What's that supposed to mean? You trying to set something up?"

"Not necessarily", he replied, though she wasn't convinced. "Can you just come out and get to know her a bit? Decide what to do after dinner?"

So she reluctantly agreed.

"OK. Give me a few minutes," she said, and he left her alone.

Veronique definitely treated her much more attentively than in their first meeting, and they actually had a good time. Jack cooked an awesome dinner, and they polished off quite a bit of wine to go with it. Melanie was feeling comfortable and completely included. She even found herself flirting back with Veronique a bit. When she flashed that dazzling smile on one it had quite an effect.

Then Veronique fixed her piercing eyes on her over the rim of her glass and said, "You know, there's no secret Jack can keep from me."

Melanie blanched, and waited to see what came next.

"I'm actually quite impressed with you two. Quite the modern arrangement, and we all know what Jack's needs are like. He must keep you busy, but he tells me you're quite up to the task." She took a sip of wine. "I must admit he's picked a luscious young thing for it."

Melanie blushed, but she was now relaxed enough to listen to this without getting completely flustered. Then Veronique leaned forward and put her hand over Melanie's. She felt the warmth of her fine fingers stroking the back of her hand, and felt a little thrill. It had been a long time since a woman had touched her like that.

"Jack and I want to show you something," she said, still staring into her eyes. She turned to Jack, "Don't we, Sir?"

As the word left her lips, a transformation seemed to come over both Jack and Veronique. Having dominated the conversation until then, she was suddenly silent, her eyes downcast as she waited for Jack to speak. Melanie looked at Jack, who's eyes had narrowed. He was watching Veronique with a small, controlled smile on his lips.

When he spoke, his voice was like silk. "Yes, I think we do." He turned to Melanie. "Have you ever seen complete surrender, Melanie?"

This was a surprise turn. She had just been getting used to the idea of the threesome she thought they were headed for. Now, however, she wasn't at all sure what would happen.

"Um, I don't think so," she ventured.

"Well then, I think you'll find this interesting." He turned back to Veronique, sliding his chair from the table and turning it sideways in her direction. "Show Melanie how a true sub awaits her master, slut." The way he pinched off the word lent a remarkable air of command.

Without hesitation Veronique slid from her chair and moved around the table to kneel at Jack's feet. Her knees were apart as she sat on her feet, her arms were behind her back with her hands clasped. She had her shoulders back, thrusting her chest forward. It didn't look like a terribly comfortable pose to hold, but she appeared quite content as she waited for whatever happened next. Melanie watched in silence, suddenly incredibly curious.

"Good slut," he praised, leaning forward in his chair and stroking the side of her face. "Are you ready to obey me?"

"Yes Sir," Veronique replied, still staring at his feet.

"What would you like me to do with you tonight?" he asked, stroking along her neck, running his long, fine fingers under the collar of her blouse.

Veronique closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the caress. "Whatever you want, Sir. I am yours to use for your pleasure."

"I know you are, but I intend to put it to the test tonight."

Melanie watched him undo a couple of the buttons on Veronique's blouse and reach his hand inside. She could see him cup her small breast in his hand completely. Veronique breathed in a bit as he rolled her nipple in his fingers, then he pinched it hard, causing her to let out a little gasp, but maintained her pose faithfully.

"Is my slut ready for it?"

"Yes Sir," she said wincing a bit, "Oh! I'm ready to do anything that pleases you."

He yanked her blouse open the rest of the way, sending buttons flying, to reveal her tattooed chest, the ink swirling around her small breasts with her crinkled, aroused nipples. Melanie realized she could feel her own nipples pucker as well as she watched this display of dominance. Jack leaned further and ran his hand over the crotch of Veronique's jeans, rubbing her pussy through the rough fabric.

"What's this, slut?"

"It's your pussy, Sir," Veronique replied.

"Is it ready for me?"

"Always, Sir."

"Then why is it encased in this decidedly unfeminine fabric?" he asked.

"I'm sorry Sir," she answered, with distress visible in her face.

"You know my sub should never put anything between her holes and my hand but fine lingerie, don't you?"

"Yes Sir, I do know that. I'm so sorry, Sir. I can change right now. Please let me change for you, Sir."

Jack now pinched both nipples savagely, causing Veronique to cry out.

"Ouch! Thank you, Sir."

"Yes slut, go and change for me, then return to us with your toys."

"Oh, thank you so much. Thank you Sir." She stood up and took her suitcase to the bedroom.

Melanie watched all this spellbound. Sure, she knew some people got off on dominance and submission, but it was now dawning on her that this was exactly what she herself found so arousing about her time with Jack. Now that she saw the interplay between Jack and Veronique she wondered just how far they would go, and even more, how far she herself would.

When Veronique returned they had moved to the couch. She took up her position again before them, knees on the floor, hands behind her back, thighs spread to leave her crotch exposed. Her attire was completely transformed. She was dressed in short corset that revealed and accentuated her small breasts, along with sheer panties, stockings, and a slim black leather collar. All in black.

Jack began by flogging Veronique's tits. Melanie watched him casually flick the black leather tendrils across the pale exposed flesh. It looked deceptively gentle, but for Veronique's reaction each to each blow. She flinched, grunted and gasped, eyes closed, with a look of intense concentration on her face. Melanie saw red marks begin to show, and her nipples hardened to the point of aching with sympathy for Veronique's impossibly rigid, angry-red little points.

Veronique just seemed to get hotter, her grunts more and more animal, though she would still manage to call out, "Thank you, Sir" from time to time. Eventually she slumped forward, losing her pert posture entirely. Jack dropped his arm with the flogger and grabbed a handful of her sweaty hair. He tilted her head back, returning her to her position. She opened her eyes and stared back at him, and Melanie witnessed an entirely feral look in there.

Not breaking her gaze, Jack tossed the flogger aside and unbuttoned his pants, removing his big, hard cock, drooling with pre-cum. Veronique's had a hungry look, riveted to the sight, her lips parted. Still holding her by the hair, and his cock in the other hand, he smeared the slimy wetness first on her full, pouty lips, then around her cheeks, before finally feeding her his cock. Veronique let out soft moans as he slowly worked it in and out of her mouth, controlling her completely.

"Ever seen someone so turned on, Melanie?" Jack asked.

"Um, no." She slowly struggled out of her dazed position as a spectator. "No, I don't think so."

"Check how wet she is."

Melanie eased herself from the couch and moved next to both of them. She reached down and gently put her hand over Veronique's panty-covered crotch, feeling the heat before she even touched her. The fabric was soaked with hot, slippery wetness. It had been a long time since she had touched another pussy, and Veronique moaned louder around Jack's cock as Melanie savored the feeling through the flimsy fabric.

"She's really, really wet," Melanie reported, not stopping. Without thinking, she slipped her fingers under the edge of Veronique's panties and traced them through the smooth, slippery, open labia. Veronique's noises became more urgent, and she moved her hips against Melanie's hand.

"You like playing with pussy, don't you?"

"Oh, yes." Melanie replied, dipping her finger between Veronique's folds.

"Think you could make her cum?"

"Yeah, I think it would be pretty easy right now."

"Go ahead," he said, removing his cock, and sitting back. Veronique's eyes followed him as he left, with a desperate look about her. Jack returned it with a cold smile.

Melanie proceeded to move her fingers more insistently over the lovely, wet cunt presented to her. She teased at the swollen clit, smoothly fucked her with one slim finger, deep inside, and very quickly Veronique was moaning loudly. Still her eyes were on Jack, who stared right back at her. Melanie went right at her clit, and rubbed slow, firm circles over it. Veronique cried out and convulsed, clearly on the brink. Little by little Melanie sped up her motions, as Veronique bucked against her hand, panting, moaning, grunting.

Finally she spoke, "Please Sir. Please may I cum?"

"No slut, you know better than that." He roused himself from the couch and came close again. "You are going to show Melanie how well trained you are," he said, as he reached for an abused nipple and twisted it gently but firmly, causing her to scream in a mix of pain, pleasure and frustrated arousal.

"Go ahead Melanie, see if you can make her cum."

Melanie really went at it now, fucking Veronique with her fingers, and rubbing hard and fast over her button.

"Oh, Sir, please!" Veronique desperately cried out. "Please, please let me cum."

"No, slut," was his simple reply, roughly pinching her nipples.

Melanie was spellbound by this display, urged on by a desire to see Veronique have the powerful orgasm that was so clearly built up inside her, and fascinated by the level of control that kept her from letting it go.

"And how about your cunt, chica? It must be wet, too. Isn't it?" Jack asked her.

"Very wet, Sir," she replied, unaware till she spoken that she would use that word.

"You see, she won't cum. She knows that the orgasm I allow her will be the best she can have, so she will wait. But look at that desperation," he said, as he twisted a nipple again, causing her to cry out.

"OK, that's enough. I think it's time to use our whore a different way. Lick the maid's pussy, slut," he commanded, pushing Melanie back towards the couch by her shoulder. Melanie followed the command in that hand and dropped herself down, spreading her legs. Veronique panted for a minute there, then Jack roughly pushed her head down to Melanie's own steaming cunt.

On her knees between Melanie's thighs, Veronique pulled her panties aside and began by lapping up her flowing wetness. She went at it with obvious skill, and Melanie was soon in heaven. She just lay back there, watching Jack over the top of the blonde head at her crotch. Jack rummaged in Veronique's toy box and pulled out a butt plug, which he approached with.

"How does that look, Melanie?"

With the tongue dipping between her folds, she couldn't find words to answer just then, but she stared at it intently as he brought it close for her inspection. It looked like something she definitely couldn't take in her own ass, but she could tell it wasn't for her, and was eager to see what he would do with it.

"Want to see it in the whore's ass?"

"Mmm, yes," she managed, as his words made Veronique moan into her cunt.

"Need to get it good and slippery," he said, bringing it to her mouth. Melanie's eyes never left his as she wrapped her lovely full lips around the smooth black silicone. In the corner of her eye she could tell that Veronique was watching while she lapped and nibbled at her labia, and she ground her cunt against her face as she slobbered over the butt plug as sensuously as she could.

Then Jack took it from her and moved back behind Veronique. He took the now glistening toy and slid it along her crack, then gently pushed and twisted. Veronique arched her back and pushed her ass against him, moaning as it began to open her up. Melanie gasped and lost her breath as Veronique latched onto her clit and sucked it hard. When she opened her eyes again she saw Veronique looking up at her, a ferocious look on her face, while Jack was clearly working the big toy around in her ass.

Finally he shoved it firmly in, and then gave her ass a solid smack. He then stood up and removed his belt.

"Make her cum, slut." He commanded, bringing his belt down across Veronique's plugged, upturned ass with a soft smack. She responded with a little grunt, and applied herself with fresh vigor to Melanie's pleasure. With her hands she pulled Melanie's swollen lips open, and Melanie assisted by spreading her thighs even wider.

The feeling of her experienced tongue probing deep into her, then traveling up and flicking over her clit was marvelous, and the blows of Jack's belt across her ass seemed to just egg Veronique on further. Melanie looked up to see Jack with a look of intense arousal in his eyes as he watched the two women before him, continuing to bring the black leather down over Veronique's waiting ass.

Now the noise of the belt was louder, as was Veronique's response to each blow. She was crying out into Melanie's cunt, bucking her ass, but always presenting it for more. Jack paused now and then to work the butt plug around, and she would always moan with pleasure and push back against his hand.

Soon Melanie was at the point of no return. This intensely nasty, erotic scene would have aroused her no end even without Veronique's cunnilingus skills, and the combination had her at a level she'd rarely experienced. She let herself go to it, arched her back, and pushed her pussy into Veronique's face. Veronique recognized that cue, and went right for Melanie's clit, flicking it with her most dextrous tongue. In no time at all Melanie's body was thrashing through an amazing orgasm, clamping her thighs on Veronique's head, gasping as the waves of pleasure crashed through.

She relaxed and fell back against the couch, looking up at Jack, who was calmly smiling, then at Veronique's face between her legs, shiny with her juices.

"That's a good whore. You gave the other slut a good orgasm. Didn't she, Melanie?"

"Mmm, yes. She certainly did," Melanie mumbled as she stretched a bit on the couch.

Jack put the belt aside and reached for Veronique's ass again, gripping the toy and slowly fucking it in and out of her stretched hole. Veronique's noises of pleasure were obvious, as she lay her head against Melanie's thigh and thrust her rear out for more.

"See how much she loves the ass play?" He asked, looking at Melanie. "A true anal whore. What shall we do next, slut?" He said with a smack of his hand. He pulled the plug out most of the way, then worked it back in, making Veronique moan loudly.

"Is it time for a cock in here?"

"Oh, yes please, Sir," came Veronique's reply.

"Do you deserve your master's cock?"

"Oh, please, Sir. Use my ass for your pleasure. Fuck my ass hard, please," she begged.

"Very well."

With that, he removed the toy from her ass in a single motion, causing Veronique to gasp and convulse. He stripped off his jeans, revealing his entire slim body, with his beautiful cock standing out rigidly from his tangle of dark pubic hair. He lifted Veronique by her shoulders and pushed her forward so she dropped over Melanie's body, cradled between her thighs, head resting on her big, sweaty breasts.

Jack knelt behind Veronique and rubbed his cock up and down her slippery little cunt lips, parting them just a bit more with each pass. Veronique pushed back for more, and he restrained her by a strong hand on her hip, then with measured slowness sunk himself all the way into her dripping cunt. She let out a long, low moan into Melanie's soft breasts as he stroked in and out a couple of times, and then pulled out.

Now he positioned himself against her asshole and began to press in through her tight ring. Melanie strained to watch as slowly and inexorably his thick, glistening cock stretched her tiny anus open impossibly. Veronique was making an animal noise half way between a growl and a cry, her body writhing against Melaine's as if torn between escape and pushing back for more.

Melanie rocked her hips forward, bringing her own wet cunt against the stiff fabric of Veronique's corset, and wrapped her arms around Veronique and held her close, moving with her. Soon Jack's cock was buried all the way, and he held still for a while. Veronique lay in Melanie's arms panting.

"How's that feel, whore?" He asked.

"Oh god, so good. Thank you, Sir," she replied.

"What are you?"

"I'm your anal whore. Fuck my ass, please. Fuck me hard, Sir," Veronique replied.

With that, Jack began to fuck Veronique's ass in earnest, thrusting in and out of her ass faster and faster. Veronique's moans and cries were definitely all pleasure now, and Melanie was really getting off as she ground her pussy against the little buttons on the corset. She was mesmerized by the sight of that fat cock sliding in and out of Veronique's amazingly stretched anus.

With one hand gripping Veronique's hip tightly, he began to slap her ass with loud smacks. Each time his hand came down she gasped and clutched at Melanie and thrust her ass back on Jack's cock.

"Oh Sir, fuck me hard. Oh, yeah. Use your sluts ass. Fuck me like the whore that I am. Oh fuck. Oh Sir," came the stream of filth from Veronique's lips as Jack pounded her ass.

"You like it best in the ass, don't you, whore?" Jack asked.

"Oh yes, Sir, I'm a complete anal whore."

"Then cum for me, whore. Cum from my cock in your ass. Now."

With that, Veronique completely flipped out. She rammed her ass back on Jack's thick cock and rotated her hips, thrashing around against him and screaming and panting. This clearly sent Jack over the top, and he grunted and slammed his hips forward ramming Veronique harder against Melanie's body. Soon all three of them were cumming, and Jack pulled out of Veronique's ass and continued to release his load over her back, with some of it splattering onto Melanie as well.

When he was done, Jack released Veronique and she collapsed to the floor and lay there panting, wet with sweat, marked by his hand, and by his seed. For a time all was quiet in the room, and then Jack and Melanie helped Veronique to the bedroom, undressed her and tucked her into the big bed. As they lay there, Jack in the middle, with two very different, but both very arousing women on either side of him, he quietly spoke to Melanie.

"You seemed to enjoy this evening," he observed.

"Wow, it was intense. Yeah, I loved it," she admitted.

"Would you like to try more?"

"Oh yeah, definitely."

"You called me Sir," he observed, after a pause.

"Mm hmm. I guess it kind of slipped out," she replied, chuckling a bit.

"Do you really understand what that means?" he asked, his tone sobering her a bit.

"Um, I think so."

"Would you want a master? To commit to doing anything he asked?"

She thought about it, and realized that it was true. What she had seen tonight was the culmination of the feelings she'd been having for the past few weeks, and there was nothing she wanted more.

"Yes," she said, in a smaller voice. "I want you to be my master."

"I don't want you to say that idly, Melanie. Think about what you're promising. You're a marvelous young woman, I would be delighted to have your gift of submission, but it's a big commitment. Are you really ready to give yourself, body and mind, to your master?"

The feelings that these quiet words of his stirred inside her body were some of the most intense she'd felt all evening, almost crowding out her intellect, and she realized that there was nothing she wanted more. She turned and looked at him in the dim light.

"Yes, Sir, please let me call you master," she said in a voice barely audible, just more than a whisper.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Her hips reached for the spanks

Her hips reached for the spanks as they thudded soundly on her swollen pussy. The fire flashed through her crotch, layering sensations, never lessening the arousal one bit. Just as her howls reached a new level the fingers returned to rubbing fast hard circles through her wetness, crushing over her exposed, hard clit. Once again in this investigation of pleasure/pain boundaries her mind and body conspired to transport her. A hand in her hair raised her head and she greedily accepted his thick hardness into her mouth, salty with the slick signs of his own arousal.

Two fingers roughly plunged deep into her wet center as his cock urgently probed the back of her throat. Now the spanking resumed, bringing still more stimulation to her begging cunt. She writhed and exposed herself to his big hand as it came down hard again and again with loud wet smacks. He dropped her head as his fingers sped over her clit again while his fist pumped his cock before her face. His body tense in the dim light above her he called out, and she allowed her own release to burst forth as his hot seed splashed over her breasts.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Desperate Little Annabel

"Too Vanilla"
, was the response of the woman I first drafted this for. She didn't like me showing my women getting pleasure, and I could not do it any other way. We'll try it here, in a somewhat sweetened form, but it's still definitely the harshest piece I've shared. Please let me know what you think.

Desperate little Annabel found herself wondering if she had gotten in over her head. As the new man gazed down at her with a gentle smile, his warm, dark eyes twinkled with a subtle kind of menace. She returned his gaze demurely as she sat there on her heels, waiting for whatever he decided was to come next. She held her pose faithfully, her back straight, her breasts thrust forward. Honestly, the way she was trussed up gave her little other choice.

She had been so excited earlier that evening when she had finally seen her new corset for the first time. She kept turning it over in her hands, and admiring all the details. He hadn't skimped at all. Annabel had been fascinated by corsets for about as long as she could remember, though she had never owned a real one. In her years of reading, those moments when a heroine was described as constricted, or breathless, in her corset had always given her a chill. Though the men in her life had appreciated her in various faux-corset lingerie, finding a man who shared her full excitement had opened new horizons.

This corset was made of fine, heavy fabric, completely embroidered in burgundy and black. She could feel the stiff boning within, and ran her finger over the long row of shiny hooks down the front. The stitching was precise, well reinforced, and the eyelets and laces up the back looked robust. Annabel could see just how it would firmly encase her waist, and she drew in her breath in anticipation of the feeling. She had sent him measurements weeks ago, in preparation for this night. Once he'd learned she shared his dream their courtship had taken on a rather formal, almost remote, tone.

Now he smiled generously as she thanked him profusely, then stood up from his chair and offered his hand. She into looked into his serious, friendly eyes as she rose. Without a word, he reached out and began to unbutton her blouse.

"Let's see you in it, shall we?"

This man in who's presence she'd been for only twenty minutes now had his hands right between her breasts. She stood there, just breathing, letting him undress her. Gently his long, slender fingers worked, millimeters from her flesh. Her nipples tingled as she waited for his contact, but never the slightest pressure came. Soon he was easing her crisp white blouse from her skirt. He looked into her eyes and smile again as he tossed it onto the couch. Now he deftly undid her skirt's clasp and zipper, and in no time she was stepping out of her skirt for him.

He undid her bra, again not even managing to graze her flesh, and gently removed it from her. "We certainly don't need this," he said as he tossed it to join the skirt and blouse. "I do think the rest will go quite nicely. You have wonderful taste in undies, sweet thing."

Annabel now stood before him on her glossy heels in only her plain black stockings and panties, while he was completely clothed. Goosebumps covered her pale skin, and her nipples were taught, where he now turned his attention. Finally he touched her, his fingers gently tracing around each, drawing a little whimper from her.

"Mmm. What wonderful nipples," he purred. "And they do like the attention." His fingers now gripped them with increasing pressure, rolling and massaging the ever-more sensitive flesh. "We'll have fun with these, won't we?" He gave a good pinch as he finished, causing her to gasp, and her pussy to tighten.

continue..."Now," he said, letting go. "Time to try on your new present." He looked into her eyes warmly and stroked her hair with his big hand.

Wrapping her up in the corset took some time, especially because he kept going back and making it tighter. He deftly undid the row of hooks and she lifted her arms as he reached around to wrap it around her. She took in her breath as his large hands squeezed at her sides, working the center hooks together, one after the other. His hands now came in contact with her in a more matter of fact manner as he snugly closed it up, gently lifting each breast to sit comfortably in the cups.

"Oh, god," she let out, as she realized it was already affecting her breathing. He turned her and began to work on the laces, soon tugging firmly enough to make her work at keeping her balance.

"Uh," she gasped. "It's so tight."

"Is that a complaint?" came his clipped response.

"No, no," she shook her head, struggling to get air.

"Good. Breathe in."

One big hand flat on her back, a fist pulling hard at the laces, Annabel began to feel encased, her breathing, her motion restrained by his grasp, under his control.

Once he was satisfied, he turned and reached for a coil of soft nylon rope. Still working silently, he bound her arms behind her, wrapping her forearms in neat coils of rope almost all the way from her wrists to her elbows. This too, he kept at with an aesthetic obsessiveness, the result restricting her completely. He finished the job by trimming the rope ends to just the right length.

"Look at you, stunning Pet," he said proudly from behind her as he ran his hands over her constricted waist, and over the flare of her hips. "So very womanly."

The gravity of her fantasy becoming reality was sinking home, and Annabel put on a brave smile as her discomfort warred with her rising lust. It hurt, really hurt. She could barely breathe, and certainly wouldn't be able to bend much. Her shoulders ached already, and she could only imagine how it would feel later. He grasped her upper arm as if a handle and brusquely turned her to face him.

"And your breasts. Look at that." He stroked over her bulging tits, held up on a shelf for him, nipples exposed and waiting. His long, strong fingers stroked and pinched her nipples just hard enough to make them crinkle and send shivers across her chest.

"You like that, don't you, sweet Pet?"

"You seem to," she coyly batted back. Suddenly his fingers twisted savagely, causing her to cry out.

"I asked you a question!" Still the cruel fingers crushed her hardened nipples. They twisted, and pulled, abusing her sensitive flesh. "Do you like that, Slut?"

"Oh yes," she gasped, in between panting at the pain shooting through her chest and the fire radiating from her crotch. He tugged hard on them, yanking on her breasts and causing her to stagger on her high heels, her bound arms useless for balance.

"What do you say when I use your tits my pleasure, Whore?"

"Thank you. Thank you, Sir."

"That's good," he said, and released her nipples, then slapped each breast, forehand, then backhand, before running his hand up into her hair and pulling her close. "That's very good, my wonderful, beautiful pet," he said gently, looking down into her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her roughly, wet lips all over hers, his tongue passionately penetrating her mouth.

He let go and turned away, leaving her staggering for balance again. He pulled open a desk drawer and rummaged around, then came back to her with a pair of laces. Wordlessly he gripped each nipple, pulling it so he could wrap the thin black strings around them. He wrapped each around several times, tying them tight as could be, until just the tips of her nipples protruded, throbbing and angry purple.

"So nice. Decorated with neat little bows," he mused.

She gave her first shriek of the night when he flicked at them with his fingers.

"Ooh, that's fun," he said, with a wicked grin. He flicked them again and again, and she shook and cried out in little gasps, the corset still crushing her abdomen too tightly for more. He reached down and roughly rubbed her crotch, grinding her panties into her damp snatch.

He returned to the desk and picked up an old wooden ruler, and gave it a couple of experimental smacks against his palm. He faced her and flicked it experimentally against the top of her breast. It stung, and then he smacked her harder with it, and the loud crack rang out in the room mixed with her scream. He set about whacking each breast, making her pale flesh break out with red welts all over. He paused and admired his handiwork, filling in a few spots he had missed.

"Not bad, but it's not really the full effect without the nipples, is it, Pet?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

She struggled for the right answer as her breasts burned with the sting of his blows. "No, Sir," she replied. "Please punish my nipples, too."

"What a good Pet," he replied, with a warm, genuine smile. "I'm so proud of you." She managed a smile as he stroked her cheek, wiping at her trail of tears with his thumb.

He stepped back and took the end of one lace in his fingertips, then abruptly yanked, tugging at her whole breast before it came undone. As the blood rushed back into her abused nipple flesh the pain was instant. She screamed, then even more, as he flicked the ruler against it. He kept at it, only light smacks required, as she sobbed and twisted, trying to get away from the torment. Then it was time for the second nipple. He grasped the string, but waited a moment, letting the anticipation of knowing what was coming penetrate first. Then it too was ripped off, leaving her angry, contorted nipple bare and throbbing. Now he smacked at it hard, much harder than the first. She screamed and tried to turn away.

"Bad girl!" he exclaimed, and tossed the ruler aside so he could grip her by both nipples at once. He tugged and twisted, smiling at her discomfort, wrenching her body this way and that by her cruelly punished tits.

Now he grabbed her arm again and quickly turned her away from him. She staggered and he kept her balance with his strong grip, which wrenched at her shoulder, causing the pain to flare back up from the numbness that had settled in.

He let go of her arm and gripped her ass firmly. "I love what the corset does for your ass, too." Again he stroked over the curve from waist to hip, to ass. His fingers stroked over her rear, then between her thighs. "Please spread your legs for me, Pet," he said with surprising gentleness. She complied, and he rubbed his fingers over her damp crotch, causing her almost to forget her aching shoulders. He pushed her panties aside and quickly thrust two fingers up into her. Wet as she was, she was tense from trying to maintain her balance, and the big fingers pushed her labia roughly inside. She flinched away, and had to struggle to stay on her feet.

"What's this, Slut!?" He demanded. "You don't want my fingers inside your nasty cunt?" He fucked them into her savagely, and she writhed on them.

"Oh. Fuck. Please Sir, use me as you want," she managed to stammer, the fingers smearing her wetness around, making it start to feel ok.

"Not good enough, Slut," he replied, removing his hand. He grabbed a hunk of her hair and dragged her across the room, then threw her over the back of the couch, leaving her ass up, face down against the cool leather. He ripped her panties right off, then quickly laid his bare hand hard across one cheek, then the other. He smacked her again and again, then kicked at her ankles to spread her legs apart, and thrust his two fingers back inside her now very moist pussy.

"What a complete slut," he said. "All that abuse and you're just turned on and ready for more. I bet you're ready for a good fuck, aren't you?" He asked, as he added a third finger and fucked in and out of her wetness.

"Oh yes, please. Do whatever you want to me, Sir," she said as she pushed back on his hand, opening herself to him.

"No fuck yet, my toy, unless you count these fingers."

The long fingers penetrated her deeply, and now he added another, fucking in and out of her. She grunted, unable to so gasp as she wished in the tight corset. His hand worked at her, and soon felt him add the fourth, stretching her wider than ever in her life. She felt his knuckles twist inside her, and she panted into the leather as she took his rough thrusts.

Then his hand was gone, and she sensed him straighten up behind her.

"Get on your knees."

Annabel clumsily struggled off the couch, his strong hands guiding her until she was just as he wished. She felt her wet sex part open as he spread her thighs. He pressed at her low back, shifting her ass out, but the corset held her back straight. He took the time to adjust her breasts, and tweak the ropes to align her bound arms directly down her back, then stepped back to gaze down at her. His hand lifted her chin.

"Ready to get started?" he said, with an ominous twinkle in his eye.

"E.B. Addis"

The name is borrowed from a blacklisted hollywood writer by the name of Hugo Butler, who co-wrote the screenplay for The Young One, a striking film directed in Mexico by Luis Buñuel (one of my all-time favorites) under the name "HB Addis". While seeking a pseudonym, I happened across this film, and quickly got my hands on it. I'd heard of Buñuel's period of filmmaking in Mexico, but had rarely seen any. A rather intense plot revolves around a teenage girl and a game warden living on an island off the gulf coast, a traveling jazz musician from the north, and a pastor intent on saving the girl. It turned out to be a provocative film on class, race and gender issues, with Buñuel's unflinching style keeping me riveted. The edgy way the film deals with the issues and the inherent sexuality is really noteworthy, especially for 1960. Good work, H.B. Addis.

Ferdy On Films, etc. has a great post on the film. Like her, this film surprised me as someone who thought he knew Buñuel.