Here I was almost twenty-seven with a decent enough job as Administrative Assistant to the Director at a renowned medical facility in Manhattan. I was very good at my job and both my superiors and peers knew it. Physically speaking, I’m tall, with what I think is a nice body except for the fact that my left breast is almost a cup size larger than my right. And while the few men I’ve let touch them hardly seemed to notice, I remain very self-conscious about it. On the other hand, I fill out the standard black cocktail dress as well as the next girl, as long as she’s not Brooklyn Decker, or one of her peers.
I will admit that prior to discovering Edgar Prince’s erotica I had begun drinking a little too much while bar hopping of a weekend, which I attribute to what I’ll call my missing something but not knowing exactly what it was period. Did I mention that I’m almost twenty-seven? I will be in two short months. I’m not married. I’ve never been married. Twice engaged, but never made it to the altar. This seems to be the key to my despondency, or whatever it is that’s bugging me. Yeah, what’s bugging me – for instance, every guy I see I view as a potential life partner. That’s crazy, or it should be. I meet someone decent at least once a week and go through what’s now become a litany of reasons why he’s special and follow that with another list of why he’s not for me. Friends, especially married friends, are always fixing me up with Mr. Right. Only he never is. I went through a slutty period a while back where I slept with every guy I dated, or tried too. Some wouldn’t have me. Can you believe it? Maybe I was too forward when I began reaching out to feel them up after the first kiss. Let me illustrate by giving an example of a typical date, or more accurately an encounter with a guy. I had sex with Kevin. Why? Because I’m stupid when it comes to male/female relationships.
We were working together on a tricky assignment involving bringing in a world class heart specialist from Huntsville, Alabama. The trick was to persuade him to leave his cozy spot in Alabama and move to Manhattan. Obviously the cost of his new residence would be through the roof; but we were telling ourselves that we were selling the opportunity to work in some of the most difficult of heart cases on what amounted to a daily basis. What more challenge could a surgeon want?
I can think of several, but there we were going over the various pros and cons of enticing him to our facility when I felt my horny button go off. Suddenly I felt naked when he glanced at me. I managed to keep my distance and avoid anything close to a sexual remark. But to my surprise I accepted his offer of stopping off for a drink after we’d finished for the night. The thing was we didn’t pop into a lounge, oh, no. We popped into a liquor store, bought two bottles of wine and headed to his apartment, which happened to be three doors away from the store.
He was a gentleman, pouring me some wine while we talked about other ways of bringing the surgeon on board. But with the opening of the second bottle of wine he began telling me about his divorce and in the same breath how good looking I was. And just as I began to like the guy a little, he suddenly kissed me. Yeah, I was tired and horny and so I let him. I didn’t really respond but I wasn’t exactly uncooperative either. And when he lay on top of me on the couch I sighed and figured, fuck it. I wish I could say I was drunk, but I wasn’t.
As he unclothed me I helped a little, said it was “alright” when he accidentally pinched me trying to unzip my pants, and even ran my hands up and down his back as our bodies became pressed together. Old Kevin was sort of clumsy and awkward, and it was weird having this old guy on me like this. When he took It out I even put the condom on for him.
I may have been horny, or thought I was, but I wasn’t slick enough to really say I was turned on, but I wasn’t dry. I was prepared … but I wish I wasn’t. I mean, I wish that I hadn’t given up so quickly. I mean it wasn’t enjoyable, you know? I just laid there on the couch, and wondered why I was so fucked up that I let myself get into this situation at all. It lasted about ten minutes, maybe, before he just stopped, breathed out long, and rolled off of me. I didn’t waste a second: I immediately put my bra back on and got dressed. We didn’t say a word to each other: he got up and left, presumably to throw out the condom. After that he found me out in front of the store smoking a cigarette.
He offered to give me a ride home but I declined. When I did get home I showered (even though it was so late, I just had to) then went online for a little while, then went to bed. And that was that.
For the next couple weeks I didn’t even see him: my training in full swing now, I was spending most of my time with my regional manager. When I did see Kevin again, though, he acted like nothing had happened. And so did I. Suffice to say I was relieved to be out of that relationship, such as it was.
About two weeks later I went on a date with this guy, “Thomas”, and started crying halfway through the dinner we were having. I was so loopy – I freaked him out. But that’s okay, because I didn’t really want to go out with him anyway. I just wanted to go out with a guy again, you know? Maybe make myself feel better for acting the slut with Kevin. Didn’t work out that way. I ended up telling him he was “a great listener” and he got the hint. We haven’t spoken since.
I told my friend Laura about the thing with Kevin, and she thought it was both funny and sad (her exact words!). She thinks I need to tell my therapist about all this (I’ve been refusing to talk to her about work, you see… more like avoiding).
I just re-read all that. Do I sound depressed? I’m not, though. I mean, I was during that week or two during the whole Kevin thing. Maybe writing about it stirred up those emotions again. But see, I realize now that the Kevin thing won’t happen again. And I won’t let myself act like that anymore. To prove my point, last week Kevin made one of his typically sexist comments to me and I shot him a look and said, “Do you really want to start that with me?” He just shut up after that.
Oh, listen to me rambling on and on. I guess I really am kind of fucked up sexually. Okay, the truth is I’ve actually slept with fourteen different guys; most more than once. I thought I knew everything about everything. I thought I’d tried everything except anal; and I knew what that would be like from Sheila Downs, who told me all about her little anal adventure, thank you very much. Yet after reading Edgar Prince’s material I realized how little I knew about virtually anything, especially about the kinkier sides of sex. His stories opened doors I hadn’t known existed. Did people actually do the things he was describing in such vivid detail? I researched subjects within the S&M genre, and found myself filled with a yearning thirst to try it for myself.
And so, I wrote Edgar Prince and told him that I loved his work, and was fascinated by the subject asked if he would consider being rough with me.
My letter read: I want you to do me hard. I don’t care if you to throw me to the ground and rip my clothes off. I want you to grab my head and push your fingers into my scalp. I want you to stick your cock in my face. I want you to set the vicious tempo that you want. I want you to fuck my mouth like you own it. I want you to make my lips swell at the collision when you bottom out. I want you to twist your fingers in my hair and yank. Use the reins to control my movements. I want my nose smashed up against your pubis and your balls pressed up against my chin. I want thick cords of saliva dangling from your shaft as I struggle to keep up with how fast and how rough you are. I want you to compel my face to your balls and ass and have me lick and suck both.
I want you to pull me over your lap and spank me. Leaving your handprints on my buttocks and turn my ass and thighs red and purple. Be brutal. I can take it. I want you to spank my clit. I want you to wrench my pussy lips and my nipples. I want you to slap my breasts. Make them hurt. Make me remember you.
Fuck me in all positions. Don’t be gentle.
I want you to drive into me from above so that I feel your weight on top, crushing me. I want you to wrap your hand about my throat and choke me. I want you to spit in my face. I want you to cuff my cheeks hard — left side and right side — with stiff and unyielding fingers and also the back of your hand.
I want you to clutch my breasts and maul them while you thrust into me from below. I want you to see how my pussy stretches to accommodate your thick cock. I want you to feel the wetness skating down the sides of your shaft and coating your balls? I want you to lift me by the hips and launch yourself at me. I want you to let me squeeze your cock with the muscles of my cunt. I want you to pinch my clitoris.
I want you to take me from behind. Pull my hair as hard as you can. Tug it by the roots. Set your teeth into my neck. Leave bite marks over my back and shoulders. I want you to grab my bouncing tits and haul me backward. Use your strength to impale my pussy onto your prick. Slam your cock into me. I want to hear your balls smacking against my ass. I want you to rub my clit diligently and aggressively. I want you to sodomize me. I want you to stick your fingers in my cunt and feel yourself moving inside my anus. I want you to split me in half with your long, thick penis. I want to be small and submissive under you.
I want you to come in my mouth and cum on my body. Come in my cunt and my anus. I want you to use me. Be strict with me. Call me the vilest names. I want you to leave bruises behind.
I want a man with phenomenal stamina; a dominant lover who knows how to take charge of an uninhibited, dirty slut like me. You should be muscular and fit. Intelligence is a definite plus.
Admittedly, I went overboard, but then I really didn’t expect him to reply, but two days later I received a reply.
Dear Emily: I receive hundreds of comments about my work. Yours however, stands out in that you appear to have a genuine interest in learning about the machinations involved between Dom and Sub. In answer to your principal question, I can easily be as rough with you as you can tolerate, for I not only write about S&M but practice it as well.
If you reside in Manhattan as you say, then it is possible that we can meet and at the least, have a rudimentary discussion about the subject. I reside in New Jersey, only twenty minutes, on a good day, from midtown. Please let me know if you’d care to meet me personally, and we can meet in a local restaurant of your choosing and see where that takes us. My Email address follows. Cordially yours, Edgar Prince.
On reading his reply, I found myself so excited that I hurried to my bedroom, took out my vibrator and gave myself a mighty orgasm. Then I reread his message and carefully worded a reply. In it I agreed to meet him, suggesting we meet at a well known restaurant that usually had a good sized crowd. I believed in old adage of safety in numbers; not knowing how little the size of the crowd meant with respect to making one less vulnerable to certain types of assailants should they be determined to do you harm. This last had no bearing whatsoever on Mr. Prince’s actions, then or now.
I should mention that immediately after emailing my reply I toyed with the idea of running out and having my clit pierced for him. However a quick researching of the act convinced me that I had better wait before doing something that rash as I would need some time to heal before practicing sex with anyone. Of course I had already made up my mind that I was going to let my Prince have his way with me at least for one night at any rate, and possibly much more.
I received a reply from him an hour later. He agreed to meet me at the restaurant and suggested a day and time. I quickly agreed and sent it off. The next several hours were spent trying on different clothing to wear for the occasion. I would, of course, not actually choose my ensemble until minutes before leaving for the restaurant. I finally selected a pale blue blouse that was a size smaller than I normally wore; and a short skirt that I knew showed my legs off along with my best pair of ‘Fuck me’ shoes. You can guess why.
He was waiting for me at the bar. “Emily, I presume?”
“Yes, Mr. Prince, is it?”
“No, my name is Klaus Sties. Prince is merely a convenient pen-name.”
We shook hands as I appraised him. Not quite six feet tall, with a thick head of blonde hair, and the body of an Olympic swimmer, which I soon learned he was not, but he did swim 50 laps on a daily basis in his own pool. He wore an expensive blue blazer and tan slacks with highly polished burgundy loafers.
“I’m thirty-seven years of age, a U.S. citizen, born in Duluth for that matter. College educated, with degrees in English from Kansas State and Florida, respectively,” he informed me.
I’m almost certain my mouth hung open and I was probably drooling at the sight of him. I know for a fact that he excited me even more on meeting him than his words had and that was saying a great deal.
He was still speaking to me, but I wasn’t listening. Oh, I heard him … God knows his voice alone had me close to cumming on the spot. But it was a combination of factors that had me riveted to him. From his yummy good looks, to that radio announcer voice that held me in a kind of hypnotic trance; but it was his eyes the dominated everything. And they never wavered from mine.
I pushed my breasts, big and not so big, out at him, straining the buttons on my blouse.
His eyes never left mine.
Suddenly I felt his voice inside me.
“So tell me, Emily, which topic interests you the most?”
“I … I can’t pinpoint any one thing,” I managed to get out.
“Surely something above all others stand out in your mind.”
“Well, I read everything … and ….” I realized that he frightened me. Physically I was more than attracted to him, but there was also something ominous about him.
“Did the subject being tied up and spanked spark an interest?”
“Umm, yes, that and the clamps….” I couldn’t get any more words out of my mouth.
His eyes now seemed to have a smoldering glow to them. I was very nervous and kept squirming around in my chair. It took me a moment before I realized I was extremely excited and wondered if it would show through my skirt when I stood up.
I finally found my voice again and asked, “So, umm, Mr. Sties, you have actually done these things?”
“Yes and its Klaus … for now. If we move forward I will ask that you call me Sir, or Master at all times.”
“I understand,” I said, although I doubt that I did at the time.
“I have done these things and more, Emily. I also suspect that you wish me to do them to you. I suspect you’ve dreamt about a man who would show you what you are inside, who would make you feel what you’re capable of feeling, because you know there’s so much inside, don’t you? You know there’s so much more.”
As his words penetrated my brain, his fingertips slid up my thigh, slowly working their way to my crotch …, stroking my left leg, and then the other; petting me as if I were a frightened animal.
Then I realized I was now rubbing my left thigh with my right hand, mimicking his movements and stopped.
“Let’s get to the point, Emily, lift up that skirt.”
Dumbly I nodded assent and with the knowledge that someone at another table might witness my actions, slowly raised my skirt. Klaus’s hand went directly to the gusset of my panties and stroked the entrance to my pussy.
I shuddered at his touch.
“It’s good to be touched, isn’t it?” he whispered. “It feels good to have someone else touch you, someone who knows what he’s doing. You like me touching you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I replied, my entire body was numb, except for my cunt. It seemed that every one of my senses was aligned with my vagina.
“Umm, Emily, I see that you’re very wet, and look …” He pushed a finger into me. The fabric gave way to the tip of his finger. I groaned and shook uncontrollably.
“Very nice, you’re opening like a little flower.”
“I ….” My feeble protest fell away to a soft sob of rapture.
“You have a gift, Emily. You feel much more deeply than most others do, and it’s a gift. You may think there’s something wrong with you, but it isn’t, it’s them.”
I think I remained perfectly still. I may have moved, but for the most part I barely breathed, holding the skirt up so that anyone caring to look could see right up my legs to my crotch and his hand as it fondled my cunt folds.
“What are you going to do to me?”
His answer was to slide those fingers up and down my slit, forcing the fabric into my cunt. I moaned.
A moment later he found my clit and bore down on it. I moaned louder and he eased up on the pressure, not wanting to become the focal point of restaurant activity.
“I’m going to finger you to an orgasm, right here, right now. If you want you can call attention to yourself, but I doubt you want that.”
The tips of his fingers flicked at my clit creating a searingly hot feeling – like a red hot poker coming right up to my flesh but not actually burning it.
“No!” I whispered approaching panic.
He chuckled and teased my clit and I moaned, “Oh, Christ yeah! Right there! Right there!”
“See how easy you are, Emily?”
I was so close to cumming, I waited for him to touch me again. It wouldn’t take much; I was so ready to cum.
But he kept me there, on the edge. It was wonderful and all, but I wanted to cum so fucking bad. I needed to cum, and that thought dominated my mind over everything else.
“You need to understand something, Emily, what I’m doing is between me and your cunt. You’re just along for the ride. Your cunt and I have an understanding. It loves what I’m doing; it knows I’m going to make it cum and it wants to cum on my fingers more than anything else right now. And we’re going to do just that, right here, and if some people see it happen, who’s to care? You? No, I seriously doubt that. Me? I couldn’t care less what they say or do. ”
Nervously, I glanced around the room. Two couples were definitely watching what he was doing to me. And I thought I saw two men seated at different tables watching as well. I swallowed and though how lewd I must look to them I was behaving like a filthy slut, and this excited me even more.
Klaus pushed the crotch band of her panties to one side and his fingers touched me. I was practically drooling down there.
I know I was panting with anticipation.
He sent two fingers into my wetness and whispered, “Take your right hand, and unbutton your blouse.”
I didn’t hesitate, but did as requested.
“Another button,” he whispered as his fingers slid in deeper while his thumb teased my clit.
Anyone looking over at us had to know what was happening. I risked a peek at the closet couple and saw them both transfixed on Klaus’s hand as it fingered me.
The woman was furtively squeezing her partner’s leg, or perhaps his penis, from where I sat I couldn’t tell.
I opened the button as requested. The inner slopes of my breasts were visible now. I recall thinking that I was glad I’d worn my sexiest bra, since half the restaurant could now avail themselves a good look at it and more.
Klaus leaned in closer to me and sniffed. “Nice choice of perfume, Emily,” he said just before he began to lick the tops of my breast where it spilled over the lacy cups of the bra.
“How is it, Emily?” His hand was moving faster; fingers spread out covering vast areas of my cunt and thrilling me no end.
“Mmmm,” I moaned into his ear.
“You’re going to cum, aren’t you? You’re going to come for me, right on my fucking hand.”
“Oh God,” I moaned. “No! No!”
The one couple I’d been sneaking peeks at were now much closer together. It seemed he was fingering her, but I couldn’t be sure. Then I caught a movement below their table and I saw his cock exposed as her hand closed over it. She was jerking him off while watching Klaus masturbated me.
It was an incredible moment and took me over the edge and into a tumultuous orgasm as his plundering fingers sloshed around my sodden cunt.
I came as hard as I’d ever done before.
“How was that, Emily?”
“It … It was a start,” I gasped and I think I surprised him with that answer.
He called for the check. I saw that the other couple, the active couple, was already headed for the door.
Klaus didn’t wait for the check, but threw a twenty on the table and stood up, “Come on ….”
I followed him into a taxi, seemingly mesmerized by both his voice and actions. He appeared to have the capability to soothe over every one of my many concerns by telling me what I had so longed to hear a man say to me.
“You’ve dreamt about me for some time, haven’t you?”
I think I nodded, for I certainly wasn’t capable of making a coherent reply.
“I will show you what you are inside, and make you feel what you’re capable of feeling, because you know there’s so much inside, don’t you? You know there’s so much more…”
I nodded again and for the first time felt his fingertips sliding up my thigh. Did I grab his hand and stop him? No, I glanced at the driver, saw that he was concentrating on the road and allowed Klaus’s hand to roam upward, almost petting me as if I were his pet cat.
Suddenly his hand was between my legs, and finding I couldn’t control myself, I reached out and grabbed his penis, finding it rock hard in his trousers.
“No,” he said as if scolding a school child, “There are rules, Emily, and the first one is: you don’t touch me. Not without permission. I touch you, but you don’t touch me, understand? Now pick up your skirt, I want to see your cunt.”
“But,” I started to protest, knowing the driver would see me totally exposed with one look in the rearview mirror.
“Now, Emily … DO IT!”
With no further thought of protest, I raised my derrière off the seat of the taxi and hiked my skirt up revealing my silk panties and the smooth plane of my belly.
Klaus wasted no time in rubbing his hand over my pussy. I shuddered at the touch from both fear and pleasure but made no other response although I freely admit to being mortified at the thought of the driver witnessing what was happening.
“Feeling prudish, Emily? Your “I want” letter mentioned all the things you wanted me to do to you. Have you changed your mind?”
“No … I want you to … do them … to me … Master.”
He ignored my comment and said, “You have a pronounced clit, Emily,” not caring if the driver heard. “It should provide us both much amusement in teasing and tormenting it.”
And when his fingertips lighted on that most sensitive part of my anatomy, I jerked back as if shocked with an electric wand.
What was I doing? Was I out of my mind? Was in a taxi with someone I hardly know, letting him touch me intimately. I couldn’t believe it was happening to me … but it was, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop.
A second later it occurred to me that he might not stop if I told him too; he would continue to dominate me until he’d satisfied his every lust.
An eerie thought crept into my consciousness then. I certainly wanted him to do things to me; normally unspeakable things. I had all but given him permission to do with me as he wanted. Oh … oh … I may be lost!
I realized that he now had two fingers inside me, probing this way and that, and I didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact I felt better than I had in ages.
“It’s good to be touched, isn’t it?” he said, making it a statement and not a question. “Especially by someone who knows exactly what they’re doing,” he continued. And at that moment I saw the driver’s eyes riveted on Klaus’s hand as it played with my private parts.
But Klaus noticed him too. I thought he would tell him to avert his eyes; to keep his eyes on the road, but what he said, stunned me and thrilled me at the same time. “She’s getting wet and she’s opening like a little flower for me.”
“It’s good when they’re really horny,” the driver said, looking over his shoulder and winking at me.
We must have been close to Klaus’s destination, for he suddenly slapped my pussy, causing me to shriek from the sudden pain.
Before I could register a complaint, he was telling the driver to pull over, we were getting out.
The taxi pulled to the curb, and after paying the driver, Klaus got out, came around to my side and opened the door for me. He took my hand as I got out and set foot on the sidewalk.
“Where are …?” I managed to get out before he propelled me into a dark alley.
“Right here will do,” he said, and pinned me up against the wall.
His hand returned to my cunt, and using his powerful fingers, forced the silky fabric of my panties into my hole. The thought of what he was doing to me filled me with an excitement I had never known before.
I must have moaned, for he laughed and murmured, “Yes, very, very wet.”
“Take them off!” he said in a husky voice that made me shiver.
“You want me to take my dress off?” I blurted, stunned at the request.
“Just the undies, Emily, that’s all,” he said so sweetly I hastened to comply, leaning one hand on his shoulder to accomplish it without falling on the grimy street of the alley.
The moment I righted myself his fingers rushed into me, and I was there – at the edge of a tumultuous cum.
“Oh yeah!” I hissed, “Yeah, right there!”
“Stop telling me what to do. I’ll give the orders, Emily.”
His fingers had abandoned my cunt. “Tell me you understand, or I’ll leave you here and now!”
“I … I understan….”
“Good. You need to understand that I will do with you as I wish. For the moment this is just between your pussy and me. You, little Emily, are just along for the ride, and I suggest you enjoy it.”
Telling myself for the thousandth time that this is what I wanted, I shuddered as his mouth made its way down my body, pausing to plant a soft kiss on my naval before wriggling into my belly-button. I was soon lost in his scent and his hands and his mouth as all blended together causing me to become dizzy with lust.
His hands … were everywhere, or so it seemed; tousling my hair, grazing my neck and pulling me closer while I struggled to free my breasts for his hands and mouth, but only succeeded in freeing the smaller one before giving up to the lovely sensations coursing through me.
Klaus appeared to appreciate my effort in that regard and took pity on my exposed breast, suckling happily on it and bringing me ever so close to orgasm, as he nursed away while fingering my cunt in as leisurely a manner as I’d ever experienced. My toes clenched and I found myself wriggling with agonizing anticipation as he deliberately dragged his wet tongue up the inside of my thigh.
I couldn’t suppress the moan, and spread my legs wide; moaning again just to urge him to continue doing whatever he intended doing to me in the alley.
I felt his hot breath on my labia and shuddered to an orgasm without being penetrated for the first time in my life.
“Oh God,” I grunted through clenched teeth.
“Get on your hands and knees,” he whispered, and I hurriedly complied.
He planted a soft kiss on my ass cheek and subtly pried it aside to peek at my asshole. A moment later I felt his tongue trailing along the same cheek and I knew he was going to take me anally.
“Do you know what I’m going to do now?” Klaus asked, laying another wet kiss on my tender flesh.
“I think so,” I croaked.
“Have you ever done it before?”
“No, but I want you too.”
“Really?” he said, sounding amused by my response.
“You want this?” he said again. And before I could answer him, his tongue flickered across my asshole and I saw stars of pleasure.
“Oh fuck yes!” I blurted out as his tongue moved into my anal entryway.
“YES! I WANT TO TRY EVERYTHING!”
“Then spread your ass for me, Emily, he whispered, slapping my rump sharply and hastening my lewdly prying the cheeks apart for him.
He speared my anus with his middle finger and I groaned in pain and satisfaction.
My entire body was shaking when he withdrew his finger and replaced it with his tongue, rimming me with a warm, circular motion.
I came again.
“We really need to get over to my place,” he said after kissing me and sending his shit flaked tongue into my — dare I admit it — eager hungry mouth. “We can … do other things in a more conducive environment.”
I yanked my panties up so that I could walk and followed him, almost panting with excitement at what was to come.
It was a two block walk to his townhouse, a brownstone that must have been over a hundred years old, but was in fact, modern in every way imaginable.
Once Klaus had shown me in, he pressed me up against the wall, gripped my jaw and squeezed. His kisses were ardent bites; his hand released my other breast, and then slapped me across the side of my face before half pulling, half dragging me into the kitchen and pushing my head down against the countertop. I remember each and everything that happened during this highly emotional time.
I saw the espresso machine from a sideways slant. Klaus had my wrists pinned in back of me at a painful angle. His feet kicked apart my legs. A hand reached between my thighs and rubbed over my pussy, not at all gently. Then, laughing obscenely, he spanked it while biting my neck and shoulder.
I could only moan.
“Don’t you dare move,” he stated harshly.
He fumbled in the drawer and produced a knife whose serrated edge he flashed me. I peed my pants as he bunched up the cloth at my crotch and poked into it with the point of the blade. A moment later he sawed through my panties so they flapped away from my pussy. He sank two fingers into my cunt, then spun his wrist and fucked them in and out. They made wet, squishy sounds.
“Pissed yourself already, ‘eh?” he said. “I want you to turn around,” he released me so that I could. The blade went under my bra and he sliced through. He knew what he was doing. He pointed the cutting edge of the knife away from me. The fabric tore audibly.
“Down on the floor,” he said, fumbling with his trousers.
I had my hands on my knees, legs open, palms facing up, and I waited.
“Kiss it,” he said.
He meant the knife. My face reflected in the shiny stainless steel. I kissed the cold metal. His fingers threaded through my hair. He yanked the roots hard, and he pulled my head up. His fingers forced my mouth open. He aimed the blade past my lips so that the knife rested against my tongue. The blade dragged along the bottom row of teeth.
I asked myself what I had done, putting myself in the hands of a madman. I waited, expecting him to slash my throat at any moment.
I shut my eyes, and closed my lips over it. I had no choice but to trust him.
Several seconds later, Klaus carefully eased the knife free of my mouth and set it on the counter.
My head leaned against the wooden cabinet. Klaus pushed off the countertop with his hand and began to throat fuck me with his cock. I made glugging noises. The saliva seeped through my lips and dribbled down my chin. My fingers were in front of me and I took the opportunity to start rubbing my cunt and clit frantically.
I want this … I repeated over and over and over.
My eyes were staring up at the ceiling when he came. The curve of his hand shucked along the underside of the penis. Semen slashed my cheek like a liquid whip. It was terribly lewd, just filthy and just what I’d been craving although I hadn’t specifically thought of it in those particular terms.
I was so lost in what had just transpired that it took me a moment to realize that Klaus was kissing me. It was the lightest brushing of his lips on mine.
He can’t be doing this, I thought, his sperm is covering my mouth and lips … men don’t … and it hit me, he already had his tongue in my ass. Klaus wasn’t any man, he was unique!
I came again, and it went on and on! There he was, sucking on my lower lip before sliding his magical tongue along the edges of my teeth. The only parts of him touching me were his hands on my cheeks and his mouth on mine.
I gave him the tip of my tongue and we tasted each other. I realized that I may not have ever tasted, really tasted a man like this before and euphoria filled me, telling me I was really doing the right thing and buoying me up for whatever might follow.
Of course, I wanted his kiss to last forever, but it didn’t. Actually, I was surprised it lasted as long as it did. He tore his mouth from mine to kiss the pulsing vein in my neck before moving to my collarbone. I was still in the midst of my orgasm. It had already lasted longer than any I’d ever had, and for it to follow the previous ones … was unthinkable.
“Emily … Emily … EMILY!”
“Uh … yes? Um, YES!”
“You seemed to be off somewhere else,” he said, but didn’t appear bothered by it.
“My mind … Master, I must have drifted off … those kisses ….”
“Yes, well … feed me a breast. I’ll sample the larger one first.”
I was mortified beyond belief. He was ridiculing my different sized breasts and I was filled with a shame I had never known prior to that moment.
But I lifted the breast to his mouth as he’d asked and he bit down on the nipple, sending a lightning bolt of pain through my entire being.
Previous lovers had suckled them, even chewed on them, but none had bitten me that hard or caused the searing pain that Klaus had just done.
And from out of my cloud of pain I heard him asked for the smaller one. Not the other one, but most emphatically, “the smaller one.”
I may have been in some form of shock, but I hoisted it to his mouth and whose teeth that now seemed like a vampires fangs. And he sucked like a baby during its most pacific moments on it. Night and day. That’s what I thought at the time. Night and day.
And suddenly his fingers had returned to my cunt, my ripped panties flapped against his wrist, clinging to my waist by the frayed threads of the elastic waistband.
“Ugh!” I grunted as he added a third and then a fourth finger into my juice dripping hole.
I was panting, a wanton, willing slut, willing to do anything asked of me. A dull pain lingered at my nipple where he’d bitten, perhaps a little too hard.
What the fuck was I thinking? He’d bitten through the skin. The nipple was bleeding. I recall thinking that stitches might be needed to repair it properly.
The last threads of the waistband parted and the panties dropped to the kitchen floor.
“How do you like it now, Emily?” Klaus asked, “Ready to cum again? Going to cum on my hand?”
“OH GOD!” I panted as my hips bucked against his sticky, plundering fingers
“You love it, don’t you Emily! You love it!”
The excitement of being fingered and played with like a hot little whore was more than I could stand. My hidden slut emerged, wild, hungry and totally uninhibited.
He sent a finger from his other hand into my anus.
“YES! YES! YES!” I screamed as my cunt exploded, gushing juices everywhere.
“Look at what I’m doing to you, Emily. Go on, look!”
I forced myself to glance down and saw my hips pumping obscenely as his fingers slid in and out of my pussy.
I couldn’t help but moan at the sheer lasciviousness of my own degradation.
Klaus grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, making me arch my back as his thick fingers stroked my cunt and fingered my asshole. There was a look of raw animal lust on his face, and I was afraid to think of how I looked just then.
I was crazed with lust. All my “I want you too’s” were coming true. My thighs were trembling; my legs growing weak. I had to hold onto his shoulder with one hand and took hold of the hand that was fucking my cunt and used it like a dildo, fucking myself, far beyond self-consciousness or shame, hoping he would toss me on the kitchen table and fuck me senseless.
Just then we seemed to drop to the floor and the cool caress of the worn linoleum. He was kissing and sucking my neck and throat, than his hand was there, choking me, although not so that I ever felt in danger, but enough to make me fearful. A contradiction? Maybe, but I was in a sexual delirium at the time and could have cared less if he’d strangled me. Later I would look in the mirror and wince at the numerous welts, bite marks and bruises I saw, but in the moment I wanted it; I wanted it all.
And the moment his cock surged into me I thought I was going to achieve the impossible and have it all.
Once the initial shock wore off, I began to pump enthusiastically, trying to match him stroke for stroke, but he was so strong that I couldn’t and satisfied myself by letting him fill me as I adoringly admired his sweat covered flesh now bathed in a halo of the late afternoon sunlight as he rode me to a frenzied climax.
I recall chanting, “FUCK” over and over and over as I came for the hundredth time that day. I exaggerate, yes, but it certainly felt that way.
At any rate, I passed out and woke up to find him pushing a thumb into my rectum.
“What are you doing?” I moaned.
That got me a vicious slap on the ass.
“Sir, or Master, Emily. Remember that.”
“Yes …Sir. Sir, may I ask a question?”
“Are you going to sodomise me?”
I had no reply to that. It was one of the things I had said I wanted in my note to him. In fact, I didn’t want it at the moment, but saw no recourse other than to submit to him and hope for the best.
He continued pushing the thumb into my behind; gradually I became accustomed to it. I should add that in view of what I’ve undergone since that moment, Klaus was rather gentle with me in preparing me for anal sex.
He sent two fingers into my cunt then held them under my nose. “You’re very wet, see?”
“Yes, Master, I see. Thank you.”
“What made you so wet?”
“You did, Master. I’ve been wet all night,” I replied, squirming as he reinserted the fingers and sent them deeper into me.
“You want my prick in your ass, don’t you?”
“Yes Sir, I do,” I said, although I wasn’t all that certain I did. But I had told him I wanted it and it was going to happen whether I wanted it or not.
“You’re a whore, Emily. Let me hear you say it!”
“I’m a whore, Master!”
“Beg me to fuck your sorry ass, whore.”
“Please, sir, fuck my sorry ass,” I blurted, humbled at having to put such a request into words.
Klaus surprised me by ramming his cock into my cunt. I uttered a satisfied grunt and started moving with him, matching him stroke for stroke. He yanked on my hair, pulling it back with viciousness that I hadn’t seen him do before.
Still and all, I liked it. I was breathless and flushed with want and I urged him to pull harder. That made him laugh, and he gladly obliged me, pulling so hard that a small clump of hair was actually torn from my scalp.
I learned then not to ask for something I might regret. Trying to please him, I reached between us to stroke his hot cock, but after several squeezing strokes I needed to touch myself and greedily pulled on my nipples, stretching them until the pain was too much to bear.
Klaus toyed with me, lifting my knees and swooping in open mouthed to devour my cunt. Minutes later I was literally dripping when he pulled his face away. “Noooo, don’t STOP!” I pleaded.
Ignoring my pleas, he roughly grabbed my hips and rolled me onto my stomach and forced my legs apart with his knees and positioned himself over my ass.
Incredibly, he sent his mouth upon my ass just as he had my cunt moments earlier. I had never even dreamed of this possibility, and I have to say it was fantastic having his tongue swimming in my asshole. I’m sure I gasped and told him I adored what he was doing, but he ignored me in that regard, stiffening his tongue and licking me where even I had never touched before. (I freely admit that I have returned to that moment time and time again and explored further, using all sorts of implements to do so.)
I later learned that this was tongue-fucking. I now have done it on a few occasions myself and will admit to enjoying the power it gives me if only momentarily over my partner.
After several lovely minutes, Klaus removed his mouth and sent a long finger into my anus until it was buried in my hot hole. Surprisingly, the muscles in my ass gripped the finger with a ferocity that surprised and pleased him and he slowly withdrew it only to send it right back in.
I moaned appreciatively.
Klaus paused for a moment, then apparently dipped several fingers into what I later learned was warm olive oil, dripped some on my asshole, rubbed some into the crack of my ass and then sent the fingers into my rectum again.
His fingers slid easily in and out and I settled into an appreciative state, thinking it wasn’t hurting me all that much, forgetting for the moment that it was his fingers invading me and not his thick, cock.
Klaus added a third finger and I welcomed it with a muffled groan.
He fingered me for a minute or so and then withdrew them, whispering that it was time for the main event. I was groggy with lust and didn’t quite grasp what he meant. But the moment his cock began its penetration I was back in the real world.
I made a kind of choking sound as he entered me. He paused to rearrange me onto all fours and I saw him dipping his cock into the olive oil for additional lubrication. Then he pulled me ass cheeks apart and pressed the head of his massive cockhead against my puckered hole. He put his weight behind the following thrust and after a moment popped abruptly into me.
I was panting and rigid with fear of a pain that somehow never materialized as I thought it would. Oh, it hurt. It hurt plenty, but it wasn’t like I’d imagined it would be.
“Halfway in, Emily, my sweet slut,” he announced as I groaned.
And suddenly, unexpectedly, he was fully in me. His hips pressed against the cheeks of my ass – his cock buried to the hilt in me. I found it incredible that he’d managed to get it completely in me, but he had.
It may have been involuntary, or completely voluntary, I’ll never know, but I began to squeeze his cock, relaxing somewhat then squeezing again.
He was barely moving in me, apparently savoring the squeezing, for he moaned, “Oh, yes, what a fuck!” And only then did he partially withdraw and push back as he resumed fucking me, rocking gently from side to side and bringing me to the edge of an orgasm, but no further.
I couldn’t hold back on my reaction, and begged him not to stop, dropping my head and shoulders flat on the bed while reaching between my legs in order to rub my twat as his well oiled cock made “slap … slap … slap” sounds against my ass.
And then I felt him swell inside me. A moment later he was jetting his semen into me, filling me, as I came with him. I hadn’t dared to cum before he did; but coming together provided a sensation that was totally unexpected, a glorious cum, probably the best one ever, but with Klaus it was hard to make such distinctions.
We lay limbs entwined around each other, panting heavily for a time. I managed to keep him in me for a while. We were both sweating profusely.
“Emily,” he said hoarsely, “What are you doing?”
Only then did I realized that I was still masturbating; rubbing my clit ever so slowly.
“Oh,” I gasped.
“You may continue until you cum,” he said and I adored him for being so generous.
I finished myself off shortly afterward, and whispered in his ear, “Master, may I speak?”
“Yes you may, Emily.”
“It did hurt … at first. But not the way I imagined it would. I want to thank you for taking pains to oil me up so that you fit into with ease.”
“The pain, as you call it, resulted from the stretching of your anal muscles. But I’m sure you found it rather pleasurable in the end, and I mean no pun in what I say.”
“Yes, Master. There was such an incredible sensation of being stuffed full. My whole body felt it. That’s when I really started to get turned on. I had to come. I wanted to come with your thing in my ass!”
“Look at my cock, Emily,” he said tonelessly.
I did, he was swollen again, more than halfway toward full tumescence.
“Want some more?”
“Yes!” I croaked, hoping for another wonderful climax.
“Let me hear you beg for it!”
Please put it in my ass!” I whimpered.
“What exactly is it you want in your ass?”
“Your … cock! Please put your cock back in my ass and fuck me again.”
I felt humiliated to have to ask him, but I wanted him back in there and saw no other recourse.
“I’m happy to oblige you more than deviant desires, Emily,” he said as he picked up a small bottle of lubricant and allowed a thin line of it to trickle the length of his shaft.
I sucked in my breath as his hand wrapped itself around his manhood and spread the slipper fluid over its entire surface.
He teased me with several gentle stabs before pressing his cock against my puckered opening; and as I struggled to relax, he drove himself into me with such force that the wind was taken from my lungs and I was gasping for breath. Before I was breathing normally again he was fully lodged in my anus.
He grabbed my hair, pushing my face into the bed sheets as he slowly withdrew and then surged back into me.
“Like that, my slut? Like my cock in your hot little asshole?”
“Yes!” I gasped, as he yanked on my hair, pulling my head back toward him.
I closed my eyes to help concentrate on the orgasm that was building within my cunt. “Yes,” I whimpered again, “I like being fucked this way.”
He increased the speed of his strokes, pinning me to the bed after releasing my hair in order to have use of both hands, I felt him swelling inside me and knew he was close to cumming, and yet my own orgasm was still out there … as if hovering, waiting for something else to happen before releasing its sweet nirvana of pleasure that I craved so much.
I heard his voice at my ear, whispering as it someone else was in the room and he didn’t want them to hear: “Tell me, Emily, where is my cock going next?”
It took me a moment before I knew what he meant. It was another moment before I could reply.
“Umm, I think … I think it’s going in my mouth,” I said meekly.
“Why there, Emily?”
“Because … I’m a dirty slut and don’t deserve better treatment, Master.”
The words had no sooner left my mouth than my head was yanked back and I felt myself expelling his cock from my ass.
Why would I do such a thing? I wondered, but the thought went no further because his cock was slapping my lips. I hurriedly opened my mouth and tried to capture him without using my hands, which of course, were wedged under my breasts from his previous positioning of my body.
“Oh, do you want to suck my cock?”
“Yes …” I managed to blurt out before reaching out with my tongue in a frantic attempt to capture his swaying member.
He pulled my head closer and slipped his cock onto my eagerly waiting tongue.
What I did was, and I state this after careful consideration of the facts as I remember them, was to moan with approval, for I wanted his cock in my mouth, and began sucking hard as he glided back and forth in my throat.
When apparently satisfied that I had cleaned him off to his satisfaction, he pulled out and began slapping me across the face with his distended manhood.
And then, without another word, he sent his throbbing prick back into the gaping hole that was my ass and began fucking me with increasingly forceful strokes.
“You know I’m going to cum in your ass don’t you?” he snarled.
“Uh huh,” I answered already feeling my orgasm fulminating deep within me. I knew beforehand that it would be the most tumultuous cum that I’d ever had and closed my eyes and waited for the explosion.
And as his pulsing cock erupted inside my ass, I came with a force that actually through Klaus out and off of my body; catching the both of us by surprise.
Klaus showed no displeasure at my actions, and apparently took it as a measure of his anal fucking skills that had brought it about. I couldn’t see any reason to contradict him.
As the aftershocks of my orgasm reverberated through my anus, I heard him ask me to spread my cheeks so that he might see the slutty asshole he’d just fucked.
I reached back and pulled the cheeks apart, fully exposing my anus to him.
“Put a finger in there, see how roomy it is now,” he said, smugly.
I did as I was told and pushed my middle finger in and felt his semen coat the finger as it wriggled about quite freely in my ass. I removed the finger and held it out for his inspection. It was clearly covered in a glistening sheen of his slimy cum. Then satisfied that he had had a good look at it, I put it into my mouth and cleaned it off.
“Thank you, Master. It was a lovely fuck.”
“You’re quite welcome, Emily. I should think we‘ll have more exciting times exploring your darker wants.”
“I hope so, Master. Would you be kind enough to enlighten me as to what comes next?”
“So that I might dwell on whatever it is, and hopefully please you from the beginning to end.”
“That, Emily was an almost perfect answer.
And Klaus did tell me about several things that were ahead of me; but certainly not all, not by a long shot.