Surprise

I wrote this story as a birthday gift for trouble. In truth I wrote him three stories, and then I divided them each into 16 short e-mails, illustrated each with a photograph of me depicting that part of the story, and e-mailed them to him at half hour intervals for an entire day. I don't think he got a lot of work done that day. This one was my favorite, and he was good enough to tell me I could share it with you.


She paced back and forth across the house, full of nervous energy. It seemed as though she'd been waiting for hours. In point of fact, she had been - he'd first mentioned it when he'd woken her that morning. She closed her eyes, remembering his hand on her hip, gently turning her on her back, softly kissing her neck until she opened her eyes. "I have something very special planned for tonight," he'd said, his fingers sliding down between her legs...

She shook her head to try and rid herself of the image. "No touching yourself," he'd warned when he left, and she had promised she wouldn't. Sitting round reliving that morning and the way he held her arms down and looked in her eyes while he fucked her wouldn't do at all if she was to keep it. She paced around some more, her heels sounding more and more impatient with each passing moment. Not knowing what it was he had planned, she'd dressed carefully: her black corset, garter belt with back seamed stockings, ludicrously high ankle strap heels, no knickers - nothing that would get in the way or couldn't be easily removed with her hands tied behind her back or cuffed to the bed frame.

The sun was just starting to go down when her phone rang. "Hi babe," he said when she answered. "I have some bad news. Something's come up and I'm not going to be able to make it tonight. The surprise is just going to have to wait." She did her best not to sound too disappointed. All that waiting for nothing.


She put the phone down and sighed. With him not coming home there was no point keeping her outfit on, and her feet were getting sore from all the stalking back and forth she'd been doing while she waited. She decided to have a bath before she went to bed. She stripped off her clothes while the water ran and piled her hair on top of her head, then grabbed her iPod to put on some music and slipped into the water.

The hot water felt good against her skin. She closed her eyes and sank deeper into the water trying to wash the disappointment away. She had been looking forward to tonight all day and now nothing would come of it. She wondered what his plan had been. So frustrating, not being able to touch herself all day. But now that the game was apparently over she could relax. She reached behind her for the waterproof vibrator she kept on the shelf.

Turning the vibrator on, she held it against her clit for a moment before pushing it inside her. Now she could go back and think about that morning, him on top of her, holding her down, fucking her in long strokes and telling her that he owned her, that she was his to command and do with as he pleased. She fucked herself slowly, her other hand tracing wet circles around her nipple.

Between being lost in thought and the music, she hadn't heard or the door open or noticed him standing and watching her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair in one hand to pull her upright and slapped her hard across the face with the other. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he asked her angrily.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise.

"I'll be the one asking the questions. What are you doing with that vibrator?"

"Well you said you weren't coming home!" she complained.

He slapped her again. "You think you can do as you like just because I'm not here?"

"You said you had something special planned and then you called and said you weren't coming home. What was I supposed to do?"

"What were you supposed to do?" he asked, slapping her again much harder. "You were supposed to follow my instructions. When I tell you not to touch yourself, you are not to fucking touch yourself until I tell you otherwise, is that clear?"

She scowled at him in answer.

"It's time you learned some respect," he said coldly, "and what happens to filthy sluts who can't follow simple instructions." He let go of her hair just long enough to pull his cock out and then grabbed her again and wrenched her forward. "Now open your fucking mouth."

He thrust his cock all the way into her throat before she had time to prepare for it and she gagged. He pulled out and held here there for just a moment, coughing and sputtering before he shoved his cock down her throat again. By the third time she was ready and took him all the way down to the base of his cock without choking. But he wasn't going to let her off that easily. He held her there with her face pressed up against him and didn't let her go until she started struggling for air. He released her only long enough for her to take a couple ragged breaths before ramming his cock into her mouth and holding her there again. By the time he'd finished fucking her throat she was exhausted from fighting to get air. His hand still gripping her hair, he pulled her forward over the edge of the bath.

She was half dragged and half fell out of the bath and onto the floor, splashing water all over the place.

"Turn round, on your knees," he ordered her as he reached for his belt. Still panting, she did as she was told and dragged herself onto her knees with her arms resting on the side of the bath. His belt came down hard against her upturned ass. She inhaled sharply, the pain was all the worse for her skin being wet. He struck her twice more before suddenly stopping. "No, not enough," he mumbled to himself as he left the room. He returned and knelt behind her for a moment to push her new purple butt plug into her ass. He paused for a moment to fondle her ass before getting up and resuming the beating with the belt. She could feel the butt plug being pushed deeper every time the belt struck her. 

He did not stop hitting her until her ass was was bright red and her skin was hot to the touch. "Spread yourself open for me," he said. She reached behind her and pulled her ass checks apart, chest resting on the edge of the bath. She could feel the heat coming off her raw skin. He pulled out the butt plug and tossed it in the water, then immediately shoved his cock all the way in her ass in one stroke making her scream in pain.

 "That's too fast!" she complained. He grabbed the back of her head and shoved her face into the water for a moment.

"You are not here to tell me what is or isn't too fast," he reminded her. "You are MY fucktoy, you filthy little slut, and I will fuck you any way I please and you will shut your whore mouth and take whatever I give you." He let go of her head and dug his fingers into her hips, fucking her savagely and ignoring her screams. He pounded her harder and harder until she could feel the bruises starting to bloom on her chest where her rib cage was slamming into the side of the bath. Just as she was about to beg him to please stop, she felt him explode, shooting his cum deep inside her aching, tight little ass.

She crumpled to the floor, back against the side of the bathtub, still wet from the bath. She looked up at him with makeup running down her face from when he'd shoved her head in the water.He was stand up looking around at the chaos and the mess of a girl shivering on the floor. "Now clean up this mess," he said, turning away. "And fix your face. We're going out."

Sore

I was sore. An entire day of sex will do that to you. And that's exactly what we'd done the day before - from the time he'd arrived in the morning until he went home that evening, he had fucked me in every conceivable way, only stopping long enough for me to catch my breath before he started on me again. We never left the room. I had been useless at dinner with friends later on, preoccupied with reliving the day and so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open. I was asleep that night before my head hit the pillow.

Now here we were again the very next day with me on my back and him on top of me, holding me down by the wrists, the flimsy lace thong I'd put on that morning pushed to the side to accommodate his cock slamming into my raw, aching pussy as if he were trying to split me in half. "It hurts..." I moaned.

His face darkened. "Oh it hurts, does it?" he asked me sarcastically. He pulled back from me, releasing my wrists and grabbing at my thong. I could hear the lace tearing as he pulled until he ripped them from my body and stuffed them hard into my open mouth to silence my complaints. His hands found my wrists again and he held me down and fucked me even harder than before while he looked me in the eye and reminded me that I was his slut, here for his pleasure, and he didn't care if I was sore, in fact I didn't even know what sore was.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on tight while he showed me.

Dinner Party Distraction

"I am at a dinner party tonight," read his email. "Polite middle class chat and all I can think of is fucking you with your hands tied behind your back and your knickers stuffed in your mouth." This followed on a conversation we'd had earlier in the day on the subject of ways to stop me complaining when tied up and at his mercy.

At home, alone, I finished my own dinner before heading into my bedroom and pulling out my camera, some rope and a lacy pair of panties.

A short time later I emailed him the results: me lying face down on the bed, nude but for a pair of black heels, hands behind my back and bound at the wrists, my head and shoulders twisted to look back at the camera, mouth stuffed with pink mesh and lace. "Sort of like this?" I wrote.

"OH FUCK" was the reply I woke up to the following morning.

Maybe

There are an extraordinary number of pillows in this room. Enough to build a mound of them to lean back on and still have enough left over to provide strategic cover. Enough to make me start wondering what we might be able to get away with.

Maybe, if we are very stealthy about it, we might be able to pull your trousers down just enough for me to take you in my mouth without be noticed by anyone at the party going on just outside the door. If we adjust the pillows just so, no one should be able to see the way you entwine your fingers in my hair when I suck my cheeks in and slowly descend on your cock. Maybe we could we could arrange ourselves in such a way that your other hand fondling my ass isn't visible to anyone walking by the window. With enough cover, I can take my time sucking you in long, deep strokes that go all the way to the back of my throat until, if you're very quiet about it, you flood my mouth your cum without attracting the attention of the people just a few short feet down the hall. Maybe when someone finally comes looking for us I can lay back on this pillow here and we can pretend we've only been sitting and talking like this all night long.

Maybe.

Trouble

I noticed him immediately, of course. He is the kind of man who spells trouble for a girl like me. Charming and sexy, easy to talk to and an eye for mischief make him all but irresistible. And being surrounded by people all the time made him all but untouchable.

He's the kind of man that, if you do get him alone, you really should make the most of it. Undo all the buttons on that shirt and trousers he'd rather not have been wearing anyway and unwrap him like a present. Take him by the hand and lead him to the bed so he can lay there and watch while you strip for him. Stretch yourself out on the bed next to him and pull his body tight against yours. Look in his eyes and tell him he can have you any way he wants and seal it with a kiss. When he realizes the lateness of the hour and tries to leave, wrap your legs around his waist and beg him to please fuck you just one last time.

None of those things actually happened. Instead we sat on the sofa talking and listening to music until the small hours of the morning and then I walked him to the door and he was gone except for the vague scent of him still on my shirt. I ended up falling asleep wearing it, but not before wearing out the batteries in the pocket vibrator I carry around with me everywhere for just this sort of emergency.

Warm

Sitting across the table from my former lover, I self consciously tugged at the ends of my sleeves trying to hide the rope marks that had been left on my wrists by a current one. "You seem like you don't want to be here," observed the muse irritatedly.

The truth is I wasn't. In my head, I was still back in my hotel room, where 30 minutes earlier I had been bound with my hands behind my back while a new friend brutalized my ass, first with his hand, then his belt, a steel butt plug, and finally his cock. I could still feel his hands on my hips pulling me back to him each time I seemed in danger of wriggling away. The intensity was too much for me to be able to hold still. Or, apparently, for me to be able to focus later on while having dinner with someone else.

I didn't answer. My fingers traced the indentations on my wrists even as I tried to hide them. The restaurant, and the company, were cold. The warmth of my ass cheeks, still tingling from the spanking and the belt, kept taking me back to my warm bed and the soft rope my friend had left behind for me. Next time I won't be so easily persuaded to leave it behind.

Vinyl Pants

It was your e-mail that reminded me. The one about the scary pants.

Skin tight black vinyl, with a zipper that goes all the way around front to back. I scared you the first time I wore them - the conservative Catholic boy from the suburbs had no idea what to make of a woman in pants like that. In the end you just went home. 

I sit at my desk in my office reading your e-mail and smile, remembering.

It was the second time I wore them that I got the reaction I was looking for. After the music, after the drinks, after the bar closed and our friends had all gone home, you walked me to my door and said goodbye - kissed me goodbye actually, with your hands on my waist and your index finger tracing up and down the zipper along the back of my pants. Kissed me goodbye, but you didn't leave.

I hit reply, but I don't type anything. The memory is interfering with my ability to write coherent sentences.

I'd never gotten up three flights of stairs wearing 5 inch heels so fast in all my life. We'd barely shut the door before you had me pinned against it. Both our shirts came off immediately, but your hands were still below my waist, pressing into my thighs as you gripped at the vinyl and kissed me urgently.

I'll never be able to concentrate like this. I get up and quietly shut the door to my office. I sit back down and reach for the drawer with my purse inside.

I pushed you backward into my bedroom working on the fly of your jeans on the way. At the foot of my bed, you ran your hand along my zippered crotch. "You are so fucking sexy in these pants," you said as you started slowly pulling down the zipper.

There is a tiny, pink bullet vibrator in my purse. It is also very quiet. I reach for it, twist it on, sink down in my chair. My hand and the bullet slide up under my skirt.

Halfway around, you couldn't reach the zipper pull from the front anymore, and you turned me around and bent me over with my hands braced on the edge of the bed while you finished undoing the zipper all the way. Behind me I heard your pants drop to the floor and a wave of heat washed over me. I needed you inside me right that very second. I whispered your name. "Please..."

I am already soaking wet. The bullet slides in tiny circles around my clit. I slide two fingers easily inside my dripping cunt, remembering that moment of anticipation, the incredibly sexy sound of your pants sliding down your legs right before you rammed your cock into me.

I felt your hands on my ass, pulling the two sides of the pants far enough apart to keep from getting chaffed on the zipper. Your cock slid easily into my soaking wet pussy and you fucked me in a steady rhythm while I rocked back against you. The cinnamon skin of your hands was beautiful against the pale white of my tits and I jumped a bit when you pinched my nipples unexpectedly.

I press the bullet harder against my clit, fuck myself faster with my fingers. My breath comes in ragged little gasps. I am  sitting behind my desk, but anyone walking by the window into the hall could see my face and know exactly what I was up to.

You fucked me harder then, your hands now gripping my hips tightly and pulling me back onto you hard enough for me to struggle to keep my footing. You reached one hand forward to rub my clit but you barely touched it before I was gone, my pussy pulsing around your cock and soaking us both with my come. 

I'm going to come. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out, but I'm still not able to suppress the whimper that escapes my lips as my pussy clenches rhythmically around my fingers. I open my eyes and look toward the window. No one there. I twist the vibrator off and put it away. I lick the come off my fingers while I pause to catch my breath.

That was it. You shoved me forward hard so that I fell face down on the bed and then you fell on top of me, pushing your cock back inside me and fucking me hard while gripping at anything you could reach -my tits, my shoulders, my face. You came hard, holding me still by the shoulders and moaning against my ear, until we both lay still, spent and panting while you ran your fingers up and down one shiny leg of my pants.

I look at my screen, the cursor blinking at me still waiting for my reply. "Drinks Friday, right?" your e-mail read. "Are you going to wear the scary pants?" Definitely.