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top secret 2

5/3/2003

Lauren walked into the hotel room. It was utterly dark.
She could not see anything. It seemed to her that she was
in a room, filled with no breathing, until a tall box, outlined
in a faint yellow light, appeared to her. She stood quietly
by the door. Waiting. She heard his voice, filled with male
husk: "Lauren. Do not speak." He paused for
emphasis, and her stomach churned in knots. "There
is a candle in the bathroom. Go and get it and return."
She immediately walked, black high-heeled saunter, toward
the tall, yellow outline of what must be a door. She reached
out blindly for the doorknob, found and turned it. Pulling
slowly outward, she caused a wave of warm amber light to
wash over her body and out into the room. Jesus.....On the
black marble counter was a single pillar candle, flickering
its snake's tongue of fire to and fro lazily, firmly,
in partnership with itself in the mirror, and causing the
whole room to vibrate with thick, golden light. Lauren
could not see her reflection, but knew that to anyone looking
in, it must look as though her tall, tan form had just been
enveloped in a room full of honey. On the sink stood 4 heavy
crystal vases, filled to overflowing with a cacophony
of screaming red tulips, the flickering candle's
light causing them to MOVE -- twisted and drooping and proud
on there long green stems -- excited by their own smudged
and potent reflection in the mirror, looking in the dim
glow like a thousand red secret-agent kisses -- a Russian,
writing a farewell love-note to her American lover in the
only way she knows how.... My God.send me to rahulthrivedi
at rediffmail dot com , She stood, frozen, awed, and wondered
what it looked like from behind as the honeyed light slowly
oozed past her, full of magic. She wanted to stay -- to bathe
in the richly red-flecked riot that she had suddenly found
herself in. But Lauren knew better than to hesitate, especially
for her own pleasure, and thinking of her Master, she turned
to go back to her position by the hotel room door. Her retinas,
now faced with the darkness again, pushed before her in
protest the bright, chiaroscuro after-image of Nietszche-narcississm
-- that image of one thousand identical red tulips shouting,
"mirror, mirror, on the wall." And, she was
blind again. Damn. She had forgotten the candle. She heard
her Master clear his throat in mock sternness and a harsh
whisper, "The candle, slave. Get the candle and return
to your position by the door as I told you. Can you not obey
a simple order?" She did not answer but was immediately
and blackly disappointed that she had displeased him,
even though she could also tell by his voice that he was secretly
pleased, too. But then again, the pleasure in his voice
could have been from any number of things he had seen or thought
while watching her the past few minutes. He was an intelligent
and complex man and Lauren had eventually learned to stop
trying to second-guess him. He was not like the men she so
easily toyed with in her professional life. Each morning,
she got up and with trousers snapped, made big noise in the
man's world with the sheer strength of her intellect.
She was used to a "kneeling mind" in a man, for
generally they had no other choice once time was spent with
her. It drove many away, ashamed or afraid, or just too daunted
to remain. But Marc was different. Actually, his full name
was "Marcus Merlin" as he had briskly stated
as he had leaned down upon her almost imperceptibly during
their first meeting. Lauren smiled in the darkness now
as she remembered that for days afterwards all she could
think of was the deep caramel colour of his eyes. Perhaps
she would be punished for her blunder with the candle. Perhaps
not. She would not know until it happened or it did not. She
turned on her heel, walked back into the holy light and lifted
the candle, careful not to spill the hot wax, pooling like
rich vanilla lava around the thick, black stump of wick.
Cupping her hand in front of the flame, she walked to her
place by the hotel door, and leaned slowly against the door
jamb, very aware of the fact that he could see her every move.
"Put the candle on the floor in front of you. Take off
your coat and lay it on the bed and return, " he said.
She complied, laid the warm sheath of buttery leather on
the end of the bed and returned to her position. She was still
unable to see the man behind the commands. "Lean against
the wall and hike up your skirt." Lauren reached down
and started to pinch the long, rich black silk skirt, accordion
style, with both her hands, gathering the material so that
it made a slow climb up her leg like a velvet theatre curtain,
until it reached to just above her shaved cunt. The candle's
light undulated beneath her like little escaping snakes
coming up from between her legs... painting her in golden
and impermanent serpents: tongues forked and full of fleeting
licks. "Stop. Now, without letting go, slide down
the wall for me, very slowly." She complied, inching
her way down, bending deep at the knees and pivoting on her
heels so that her cunt was spread as far as possible in that
position. Pushing back hard against the wall for some relief
on her back, she was glad now she had spent those long, boring
hours in the gym each week. Even though she was weakest there
-- alone, while working out. At the gym, her frustration’s
about her relationship with Marc often turned to anger
at herself for allowing herself to continue in such a strange
relationship as theirs had become. WHY did she allow it
to continue---week after week?! Shit. She had no control
over the relationship at all. And, in truth, it frustrated
her to no end when she was alone long enough to brood about
it. She did not know where Marc lived or what he did for a living
or even his home phone number. He had given her a pager number
and instructed her only to use it for emergencies. On their
first date, she had slipped quickly into her "reporter"
personality, firing off at him one probing question after
another. He answered maybe one in every three, forcing
her to slow down. Finally, on their third and last "date",
he had told her he was the CEO of a large multi-national pharmaceutical
company, which kept him travelling much of the time. He
had then leaned toward her and very deliberately took control
of the conversation by asking her, with a raised brow, if
that was a problem? She remembered mumbling "no"
in a soft and quiet voice that was NOT her own. "Good,
" he had said, "you will be required to meet me
weekly hereafter and will receive instructions for doing
so each Monday evening." That particular date marked
only their 4th time to ever see each other but something
in Lauren clicked over in her --- her belly flipped and dove,
sending waves of wet pleasure down, down and in, drenching
her cunt. "Hell, " she'd thought then.
"This is screwed up. Who the hell does he think he is
anyway?" She had flashed her electric blue eyes at
him once, but inside, she knew she was hooked. He must have
seen the silent flare up of her ego in her eyes because he
smiled then, reached across the table, encircled her wrist
with his strong fingers like a cuff and squeezed, whispering,
"Good girl." And that, THAT PRECISE MOMENT,
was when "it" had "started" and
Lauren knew without a doubt, that she was beyond saving.
There was no going back, the road had forked and she had chosen
and now she was not her own anymore. Her Master's voice
brought her back to the present. "Now. Sit down on
your ass and spread your legs wide for me." She could
feel herself becoming wet as she squatted to comply, embarrassed
and red-faced, . She landed too sharply on her ass and almost
lost the grip on her black silk skirt. "I said, "Spread
your legs, bitch." Too quickly, she spread her legs,
snagging her left heel on the carpet, dropping her left
skirt hem in an effort to keep herself from tipping over.
"You will pay for that, " He said harshly. Immediately,
she hiked the hem back up for Him. Slowly, the handle of a
long black whip extended from the other side of the candle
and pushed the candle closer to her, between her legs, and
she was bathed in its glow, her pink fingernails echoing
its flame ten tiny times. "Pull your skirt all the
way up, hold it with your left hand and play with your clit
with your right. Do it now." She began to panic inside.
She could not go through with this, she was too damn nervous.
She made a move to get up. "SIT DOWN, " His voice
BOOMED from somewhere to her far left front. She slumped
back down immediately. "Now, you can do this your
way, or you can do it mine-- but either way, you WILL DO IT.
Is that clear?" She could hear the anger begin to edge
into His voice and so she answered, meekly, "Yes,
Sir, " keeping her head down out of reflex. "Good.
We will begin again. Now, reach down with your right hand
and masturbate for me, bitch." Lauren reached down,
tentatively, flushed now with embarrassment, and touched
her clit. *Whoosh* The sound of the whip cut through the
air and a mean lash landed on her right thigh seemingly from
nowhere and reflexively she gave a shout of PAIN. "I
said, Masturbate for me, bitch, like the whore that you
are, like MY whore, not like some guilt-stricken nun."
He sighed deeply for emphasis. "Must we always begin
this way?" *whoosh* Another invisible lash screamed
down and landed on her left thigh. "Why do you continue
to insist on trying to be in charge?" She was silent
as snow now as she looked meekly down, watching the two impudent,
red streaks interrupt the tan on her thighs and race to turn
to raised welts, filled with heat now and beating in time
with her quickened heartbeat. She knew now her Master was
truly angry, for he rarely, rarely marked her body. Then,
right then, there was the turn of that infernal key within
her, the clicking over inside her, bright-bright even
as she tried to fight it...she could not. She was powerless
in the force of It’s wakening within her. The submissive
in her suddenly loosened everything within and she felt
the blood flow to her nipples and cunt. She was in heat and
she was HIS... At that moment. The moment of turning. She
wondered if he could see. She wondered if he knew. "Now.
Do it." He whispered. Filled with shame, this time
she began in earnest, feeling a great sexual pull in her
groin, pushing her clit back and forth, around and around,
languidly, making it feel good; her breathing quickened
and suddenly He was there, looking down from above, then
squatting in front of her. She could not see His face. He
reached out with his right hand and inserted two fingers
into her cunt; their hands touched now, hers was bumping
into his as she moved it against her clit. He kept His fingers
deep in her, but very still. "Jesus, you little bitch,
you are so wet. Play with your pussy for me, Lauren, do it."
She increased her tempo, nervous but so damned turned on,
breath coming fast now....
His quiet, still, implacable fingers were buried deep
inside her hot wetness. "Lauren, " He said,
"I am now going to count to 10. You will cum for me by
the time I have finished my count. For every second it may
take you AFTER I reach a count of 10, you will be spanked.
Do I make myself clear? You may answer me." "Yes,
Sir, " she gasped. "Good, " He said. Suddenly
she felt him moving, his fingers leaving her warm, moist
cunt. "Pick up the candle and move away from the wall
to the middle of the room, " He said. "Kneel for
me with your legs spread." Lauren complied. "Now,
begin again, little one. Touch yourself for me."
As Lauren reached down to comply, she heard him say "One."
"Two. Pump it, slut, " He said. She began to moan;
this was too much, she was so turned on but too nervous to
cum. He must know this! If only she could see his face -- but
he stayed just out of reach of the small circle of light that
the floored candle now threw. It was as if the light, no matter
how she willed it, could not escape the heavy gravity of
her own submissive inner core and so when she dared to peek
up she was rewarded only with a short piece of his arm, surrounded
in the smooth camel's hair cloth of his sport coat and
even that ended finally in darkness. "Three. Concentrate,
Lauren, " He purred. "Four. Spread your fucking
LEGS WIDER, BITCH!" She struggled to push her thighs
further apart. "Five." He inserted his fingers
back into her, reaching from behind her. "You little
whore, why are you so wet? Huh?" She could feel her
wetness about to spill out of her cunt as she frigged her
clit faster and harder for Him, feeling herself begin the
ascent to her orgasm. God, WHY won't He move His fingers
inside of me!!? WHY is He keeping them so STILL! She wanted
to feel him fingering her as she played with herself for
Him. "Six, " He said. As he said that word, she
saw his other hand come into view and felt his index finger
dip into her cunt, quickly becoming wet and glistening
in the firelight as He moved it in and out. She wanted to PUSH
against that finger; it felt so damn GOOD, but He quickly
pulled it out and then slowly forced it deep into her ass.
Oh God, she could hardly breathe, she ached to cum but she
could not, her mind would not shut down for her. "Seven.
Cum, whore, do it. Eight." His index finger began
to move in her ass, slowly at first then more determined
and faster, adopting the rhythm of her own fingers on her
clit. "Nine. God, you bitch, you are so wet for Me,
aren't you?" She began to whimper. He was driving
her over the edge, she was playing with her clit so hard now
her cunt made wet noises around the still, quiet fingers
of his right hand has the index finger of his left fucked
her ass. "Ten. Mmmmmm, I am going to enjoy spanking
your ass, Lauren." "Eleven." His finger
was now fucking her ass hard, his whole hand smacking up
against her posterior as he slammed his finger in and out.
"Twelve. Fucking whore, cum for me, NOW!" She
began to grunt rhythmically, her orgasm so close. "Thirteen."
"Ahhh, good girl, my pet... come on, whore, give it
to Your Master. Fourteen." His left hand slammed
wetly against her asshole as she began to scream his name,
fast, "Master, Master, Master, YES! Make me cum,
make me cum. Yes, Master..." "Fifteen. Come
on bitch, scream for me. Sixteen. Seventeen." She
was right on the edge, so close, god dammit! WHY couldn't
she close her mind down and cum for Him? "Eighteen.
Do it bitch, let yourself, go. DO IT! NOW, BITCH! CUM!"
"Nineteen." She began to grunt in earnest now,
rhythmically; his finger pumping her ass finally drove
her over the edge and she screamed, "Uhn, Uhn, Uhn,
FUCK ME, Master! Uhnn. Fuck me! Fuck Your cunt! Yes, Yes,
Yes, " she screamed over and over as her cunt and ass
spasmed around His fingers and He leaned in close, covering
her mouth in His so that she was forced to breathe in great
giant gout’s through her nose as He kissed her. He
stayed like this til her breathing evened out, then leaned
back, removing his hands from inside her, and walked to
the bed and sat on the edge. She could see His rigid cock straining
at the seams of the buttoned fly of his faded jeans. She was
drained. "Stand up and remove your skirt and blouse."
On wobbly, weak legs, she unbuttoned her cream silk shirt
and let it drop to the floor. She did the same with her skirt
so that all she had on was her black lace thigh-highs and
black lace bra. "Down on your knees, Lauren. Now,
come here, crawl to me and assume the position." God,
how she hated this and how it thrilled her to follow His commands.
She bent down and got on her hands and knees and crawled to
Him, slipping snake-like over His lap til her head was almost
touching the floor and her feet dangled from the other side,
two inches from the floor. "Good girl. You pleased
me tonite, little one." He began to stroke her ass
in little circles, barely touching her. It felt so damn
good she wanted to purr against Him. "You are such
a sweet little beautiful whore for me Lauren when You finally
let go, aren't You?" "Yes, Sir, "
she whispered hoarsely. "Yeeesssss, " He hissed,
"that's my good girl. Now, give me Your right
hand, Lauren, bring it up to me across your back."
She brought her hand up and he leaned over her, grasping
her wrist firmly with his left hand and simultaneously
pressing her more firmly into place across His lap, His
hard cock cruelly jabbing her midriff. "In the future,
my little whore, you will learn to cum for me on command.
You need more work, and I need to leave you a little reminder.
Now. Count for me, little one." *SMACK* His hand came
down with so much force it knocked the air out of her and for
a moment, she could not speak. *SMACK* came another hard
blow. "The first does not count, little one, because
I did not hear you count." "One, " she croaked.
*SMACK* "Two, Sir." The heat crawled up her
spine and she could feel his hand prints indelibly engraved
in fire on her ass. *SMACK* "Three, Sir." *SMACK*
"Four, Sir, " her voice broke with the pain.
*SMACK* "Five, Sir, " she shouted. God, the
pain was unbearable and she tried to move her captured hand
in the way of his next blow. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, little
one. What is this? Shall I have to tie You after all? Just
to finish this short spanking? My, how you disappoint me,
little one, " He sighed. She was mortified as she stammered,
"No, Sir. I am sorry, Sir." "Please, continue,
Sir, " and she steeled herself for the next blow. *SMACK*
This blow was harder than all the rest and she shouted, "SIX,
SIR!!" "Are you going to learn to obey Me when
I ask you to cum for me on command? Are you?" "Yes,
YES, YES!" she gushed. "Yes, Sir!!!"
"Good, pet, then it seems this spanking is just what
you needed, right?" "YES, SIR!" "Thank
You, Sir!" *SMACK* "SEVEN, " she screamed
as the pain began in earnest to flood her prostrate form.
*SMACK* "EIGHT, SSSsIR!" she struggled out
as she felt the tears begin. *SMACK* "NINE!!!! SIR!!"
she screamed in a fit of pain, her ass on fire, crying now
against Him. "Ahhhh, very good, my pet, very good.
You did well. Now kneel for me, between my legs."
Lauren walked into the hotel room. It was utterly dark.
She could not see anything. It seemed to her that she was
in a room, filled with no breathing, until a tall box, outlined
in a faint yellow light, appeared to her. She stood quietly
by the door. Waiting. She heard his voice, filled with male
husk: "Lauren. Do not speak." He paused for
emphasis, and her stomach churned in knots. "There
is a candle in the bathroom. Go and get it and return."
She immediately walked, black high-heeled saunter, toward
the tall, yellow outline of what must be a door. She reached
out blindly for the doorknob, found and turned it. Pulling
slowly outward, she caused a wave of warm amber light to
wash over her body and out into the room. Jesus.....On the
black marble counter was a single pillar candle, flickering
its snake's tongue of fire to and fro lazily, firmly,
in partnership with itself in the mirror, and causing the
whole room to vibrate with thick, golden light. Lauren
could not see her reflection, but knew that to anyone looking
in, it must look as though her tall, tan form had just been
enveloped in a room full of honey. On the sink stood 4 heavy
crystal vases, filled to overflowing with a cacophony
of screaming red tulips, the flickering candle's
light causing them to MOVE -- twisted and drooping and proud
on there long green stems -- excited by their own smudged
and potent reflection in the mirror, looking in the dim
glow like a thousand red secret-agent kisses -- a Russian,
writing a farewell love-note to her American lover in the
only way she knows how.... My God. She stood, frozen, awed,
and wondered what it looked like from behind as the honeyed
light slowly oozed past her, full of magic. She wanted to
stay -- to bathe in the richly red-flecked riot that she
had suddenly found herself in. But Lauren knew better than
to hesitate, especially for her own pleasure, and thinking
of her Master, she turned to go back to her position by the
hotel room door. Her retinas, now faced with the darkness
again, pushed before her in protest the bright, chiaroscuro
after-image of Nietszche-narcississm -- that image of
one thousand identical red tulips shouting, "mirror,
mirror, on the wall." And, she was blind again. Damn.
She had forgotten the candle. She heard her Master clear
his throat in mock sternness and a harsh whisper, "The
candle, slave. Get the candle and return to your position
by the door as I told you. Can you not obey a simple order?"
She did not answer but was immediately and blackly disappointed
that she had displeased him, even though she could also
tell by his voice that he was secretly pleased, too. But
then again, the pleasure in his voice could have been from
any number of things he had seen or thought while watching
her the past few minutes. He was an intelligent and complex
man and Lauren had eventually learned to stop trying to
second-guess him. He was not like the men she so easily toyed
with in her professional life. Each morning, she got up
and with trousers snapped, made big noise in the man's
world with the sheer strength of her intellect. She was
used to a "kneeling mind" in a man, for generally
they had no other choice once time was spent with her. It
drove many away, ashamed or afraid, or just too daunted
to remain. But Marc was different. Actually, his full name
was "Marcus Merlin" as he had briskly stated
as he had leaned down upon her almost imperceptibly during
their first meeting. Lauren smiled in the darkness now
as she remembered that for days afterwards all she could
think of was the deep caramel colour of his eyes. Perhaps
she would be punished for her blunder with the candle. Perhaps
not. She would not know until it happened or it did not. She
turned on her heel, walked back into the holy light and lifted
the candle, careful not to spill the hot wax, pooling like
rich vanilla lava around the thick, black stump of wick.
Cupping her hand in front of the flame, she walked to her
place by the hotel door, and leaned slowly against the door
jamb, very aware of the fact that he could see her every move.
"Put the candle on the floor in front of you. Take off
your coat and lay it on the bed and return, " he said.
She complied, laid the warm sheath of buttery leather on
the end of the bed and returned to her position. She was still
unable to see the man behind the commands. "Lean against
the wall and hike up your skirt." Lauren reached down
and started to pinch the long, rich black silk skirt, accordion
style, with both her hands, gathering the material so that
it made a slow climb up her leg like a velvet theatre curtain,
until it reached to just above her shaved cunt. The candle's
light undulated beneath her like little escaping snakes
coming up from between her legs... painting her in golden
and impermanent serpents: tongues forked and full of fleeting
licks. "Stop. Now, without letting go, slide down
the wall for me, very slowly." She complied, inching
her way down, bending deep at the knees and pivoting on her
heels so that her cunt was spread as far as possible in that
position. Pushing back hard against the wall for some relief
on her back, she was glad now she had spent those long, boring
hours in the gym each week. Even though she was weakest there
-- alone, while working out. At the gym, her frustration’s
about her relationship with Marc often turned to anger
at herself for allowing herself to continue in such a strange
relationship as theirs had become. WHY did she allow it
to continue---week after week?! Shit. She had no control
over the relationship at all. And, in truth, it frustrated
her to no end when she was alone long enough to brood about
it. She did not know where Marc lived or what he did for a living
or even his home phone number. He had given her a pager number
and instructed her only to use it for emergencies. On their
first date, she had slipped quickly into her "reporter"
personality, firing off at him one probing question after
another. He answered maybe one in every three, forcing
her to slow down. Finally, on their third and last "date",
he had told her he was the CEO of a large multi-national pharmaceutical
company, which kept him travelling much of the time. He
had then leaned toward her and very deliberately took control
of the conversation by asking her, with a raised brow, if
that was a problem? She remembered mumbling "no"
in a soft and quiet voice that was NOT her own. "Good,
" he had said, "you will be required to meet me
weekly hereafter and will receive instructions for doing
so each Monday evening." That particular date marked
only their 4th time to ever see each other but something
in Lauren clicked over in her --- her belly flipped and dove,
sending waves of wet pleasure down, down and in, drenching
her cunt. "Hell, " she'd thought then.
"This is screwed up. Who the hell does he think he is
anyway?" She had flashed her electric blue eyes at
him once, but inside, she knew she was hooked. He must have
seen the silent flare up of her ego in her eyes because he
smiled then, reached across the table, encircled her wrist
with his strong fingers like a cuff and squeezed, whispering,
"Good girl." And that, THAT PRECISE MOMENT,
was when "it" had "started" and
Lauren knew without a doubt, that she was beyond saving.
There was no going back, the road had forked and she had chosen
and now she was not her own anymore. Her Master's voice
brought her back to the present. "Now. Sit down on
your ass and spread your legs wide for me." She could
feel herself becoming wet as she squatted to comply, embarrassed
and red-faced, . She landed too sharply on her ass and almost
lost the grip on her black silk skirt. "I said, "Spread
your legs, bitch." Too quickly, she spread her legs,
snagging her left heel on the carpet, dropping her left
skirt hem in an effort to keep herself from tipping over.
"You will pay for that, " He said harshly. Immediately,
she hiked the hem back up for Him. Slowly, the handle of a
long black whip extended from the other side of the candle
and pushed the candle closer to her, between her legs, and
she was bathed in its glow, her pink fingernails echoing
its flame ten tiny times. "Pull your skirt all the
way up, hold it with your left hand and play with your clit
with your right. Do it now." She began to panic inside.
She could not go through with this, she was too damn nervous.
She made a move to get up. "SIT DOWN, " His voice
BOOMED from somewhere to her far left front. She slumped
back down immediately. "Now, you can do this your
way, or you can do it mine-- but either way, you WILL DO IT.
Is that clear?" She could hear the anger begin to edge
into His voice and so she answered, meekly, "Yes,
Sir, " keeping her head down out of reflex. "Good.
We will begin again. Now, reach down with your right hand
and masturbate for me, bitch." Lauren reached down,
tentatively, flushed now with embarrassment, and touched
her clit. *Whoosh* The sound of the whip cut through the
air and a mean lash landed on her right thigh seemingly from
nowhere and reflexively she gave a shout of PAIN. "I
said, Masturbate for me, bitch, like the whore that you
are, like MY whore, not like some guilt-stricken nun."
He sighed deeply for emphasis. "Must we always begin
this way?" *whoosh* Another invisible lash screamed
down and landed on her left thigh. "Why do you continue
to insist on trying to be in charge?" She was silent
as snow now as she looked meekly down, watching the two impudent,
red streaks interrupt the tan on her thighs and race to turn
to raised welts, filled with heat now and beating in time
with her quickened heartbeat. She knew now her Master was
truly angry, for he rarely, rarely marked her body. Then,
right then, there was the turn of that infernal key within
her, the clicking over inside her, bright-bright even
as she tried to fight it...she could not. She was powerless
in the force of It’s wakening within her. The submissive
in her suddenly loosened everything within and she felt
the blood flow to her nipples and cunt. She was in heat and
she was HIS... At that moment. The moment of turning. She
wondered if he could see. She wondered if he knew. "Now.
Do it." He whispered. Filled with shame, this time
she began in earnest, feeling a great sexual pull in her
groin, pushing her clit back and forth, around and around,
languidly, making it feel good; her breathing quickened
and suddenly He was there, looking down from above, then
squatting in front of her. She could not see His face. He
reached out with his right hand and inserted two fingers
into her cunt; their hands touched now, hers was bumping
into his as she moved it against her clit. He kept His fingers
deep in her, but very still. "Jesus, you little bitch,
you are so wet. Play with your pussy for me, Lauren, do it."
She increased her tempo, nervous but so damned turned on,
breath coming fast now....
His quiet, still, implacable fingers were buried deep
inside her hot wetness. "Lauren, " He said,
"I am now going to count to 10. You will cum for me by
the time I have finished my count. For every second it may
take you AFTER I reach a count of 10, you will be spanked.
Do I make myself clear? You may answer me." "Yes,
Sir, " she gasped. "Good, " He said. Suddenly
she felt him moving, his fingers leaving her warm, moist
cunt. "Pick up the candle and move away from the wall
to the middle of the room, " He said. "Kneel for
me with your legs spread." Lauren complied. "Now,
begin again, little one. Touch yourself for me."
As Lauren reached down to comply, she heard him say "One."
"Two. Pump it, slut, " He said. She began to moan;
this was too much, she was so turned on but too nervous to
cum. He must know this! If only she could see his face -- but
he stayed just out of reach of the small circle of light that
the floored candle now threw. It was as if the light, no matter
how she willed it, could not escape the heavy gravity of
her own submissive inner core and so when she dared to peek
up she was rewarded only with a short piece of his arm, surrounded
in the smooth camel's hair cloth of his sport coat and
even that ended finally in darkness. "Three. Concentrate,
Lauren, " He purred. "Four. Spread your fucking
LEGS WIDER, BITCH!" She struggled to push her thighs
further apart. "Five." He inserted his fingers
back into her, reaching from behind her. "You little
whore, why are you so wet? Huh?" She could feel her
wetness about to spill out of her cunt as she frigged her
clit faster and harder for Him, feeling herself begin the
ascent to her orgasm. God, WHY won't He move His fingers
inside of me!!? WHY is He keeping them so STILL! She wanted
to feel him fingering her as she played with herself for
Him. "Six, " He said. As he said that word, she
saw his other hand come into view and felt his index finger
dip into her cunt, quickly becoming wet and glistening
in the firelight as He moved it in and out. She wanted to PUSH
against that finger; it felt so damn GOOD, but He quickly
pulled it out and then slowly forced it deep into her ass.
Oh God, she could hardly breathe, she ached to cum but she
could not, her mind would not shut down for her. "Seven.
Cum, whore, do it. Eight." His index finger began
to move in her ass, slowly at first then more determined
and faster, adopting the rhythm of her own fingers on her
clit. "Nine. God, you bitch, you are so wet for Me,
aren't you?" She began to whimper. He was driving
her over the edge, she was playing with her clit so hard now
her cunt made wet noises around the still, quiet fingers
of his right hand has the index finger of his left fucked
her ass. "Ten. Mmmmmm, I am going to enjoy spanking
your ass, Lauren." "Eleven." His finger
was now fucking her ass hard, his whole hand smacking up
against her posterior as he slammed his finger in and out.
"Twelve. Fucking whore, cum for me, NOW!" She
began to grunt rhythmically, her orgasm so close. "Thirteen."
"Ahhh, good girl, my pet... come on, whore, give it
to Your Master. Fourteen." His left hand slammed
wetly against her asshole as she began to scream his name,
fast, "Master, Master, Master, YES! Make me cum,
make me cum. Yes, Master..." "Fifteen. Come
on bitch, scream for me. Sixteen. Seventeen." She
was right on the edge, so close, god dammit! WHY couldn't
she close her mind down and cum for Him? "Eighteen.
Do it bitch, let yourself, go. DO IT! NOW, BITCH! CUM!"
"Nineteen." She began to grunt in earnest now,
rhythmically; his finger pumping her ass finally drove
her over the edge and she screamed, "Uhn, Uhn, Uhn,
FUCK ME, Master! Uhnn. Fuck me! Fuck Your cunt! Yes, Yes,
Yes, " she screamed over and over as her cunt and ass
spasmed around His fingers and He leaned in close, covering
her mouth in His so that she was forced to breathe in great
giant gout’s through her nose as He kissed her. He
stayed like this til her breathing evened out, then leaned
back, removing his hands from inside her, and walked to
the bed and sat on the edge. She could see His rigid cock straining
at the seams of the buttoned fly of his faded jeans. She was
drained. "Stand up and remove your skirt and blouse."
On wobbly, weak legs, she unbuttoned her cream silk shirt
and let it drop to the floor. She did the same with her skirt
so that all she had on was her black lace thigh-highs and
black lace bra. "Down on your knees, Lauren. Now,
come here, crawl to me and assume the position." God,
how she hated this and how it thrilled her to follow His commands.
She bent down and got on her hands and knees and crawled to
Him, slipping snake-like over His lap til her head was almost
touching the floor and her feet dangled from the other side,
two inches from the floor. "Good girl. You pleased
me tonite, little one." He began to stroke her ass
in little circles, barely touching her. It felt so damn
good she wanted to purr against Him. "You are such
a sweet little beautiful whore for me Lauren when You finally
let go, aren't You?" "Yes, Sir, "
she whispered hoarsely. "Yeeesssss, " He hissed,
"that's my good girl. Now, give me Your right
hand, Lauren, bring it up to me across your back."
She brought her hand up and he leaned over her, grasping
her wrist firmly with his left hand and simultaneously
pressing her more firmly into place across His lap, His
hard cock cruelly jabbing her midriff. "In the future,
my little whore, you will learn to cum for me on command.
You need more work, and I need to leave you a little reminder.
Now. Count for me, little one." *SMACK* His hand came
down with so much force it knocked the air out of her and for
a moment, she could not speak. *SMACK* came another hard
blow. "The first does not count, little one, because
I did not hear you count." "One, " she croaked.
*SMACK* "Two, Sir." The heat crawled up her
spine and she could feel his hand prints indelibly engraved
in fire on her ass. *SMACK* "Three, Sir." *SMACK*
"Four, Sir, " her voice broke with the pain.
*SMACK* "Five, Sir, " she shouted. God, the
pain was unbearable and she tried to move her captured hand
in the way of his next blow. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, little
one. What is this? Shall I have to tie You after all? Just
to finish this short spanking? My, how you disappoint me,
little one, " He sighed. She was mortified as she stammered,
"No, Sir. I am sorry, Sir." "Please, continue,
Sir, " and she steeled herself for the next blow. *SMACK*
This blow was harder than all the rest and she shouted, "SIX,
SIR!!" "Are you going to learn to obey Me when
I ask you to cum for me on command? Are you?" "Yes,
YES, YES!" she gushed. "Yes, Sir!!!"
"Good, pet, then it seems this spanking is just what
you needed, right?" "YES, SIR!" "Thank
You, Sir!" *SMACK* "SEVEN, " she screamed
as the pain began in earnest to flood her prostrate form.
*SMACK* "EIGHT, SSSsIR!" she struggled out
as she felt the tears begin. *SMACK* "NINE!!!! SIR!!"
she screamed in a fit of pain, her ass on fire, crying now
against Him. "Ahhhh, very good, my pet, very good.
You did well. Now kneel for me, between my legs."

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