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Be Careful For What You Nag For

'Okay then, lets go,' she said, stroked and gripped his now fully erect cock, 'I can't wait for you to get this in me Jacob, I really can't!'

He followed her wonderful rounded pert backside, and walked into the wall staring at it. He waited outside, Jasmine wanted to arouse her husband first. He stripped off to his chocolate brown shorts as agreed and waited. His body was tight, fit and toned, many women had used it, he was getting to be quite a wealthy man. But Jasmine? She was getting this for free; no man would want to charge her to fuck her all night.

She entered the room, and began to tease her hapless husband, she opened his pants and played with his cock, she told him there was a dark beauty out side the door, who was going to take her, do with her what they wanted, use and abuse her. There was no way once the door opened that she would or could say no, she wouldn't be allowed to, she was going down, all the way.

'Do you want me to do that darling? Do you want me to submit to my dark beauty? Be a slut, a whore? Just nod your head if you do?'

He nearly broke his neck, he nodded so hard.

'Okay then baby, you asked for it,' she said as she pulled playfully on his stiff prick, 'but I'm the one though, who's going to get it!' She told him coldly.

'Come in Jacob,' she called.

Her husband looked at her stupidly. Then he looked at the door as it opened. To say he was stunned was an understatement.

In walked a giant of a man, easily well over 6ft, as fit as a proverbial butchers dog. And he was as black as a black diamond!

Her husband was struck dumb, he couldn't believe he had seen it, the fact that he was tied and gagged didn't matter, he wouldn't have been able to speak!

Jacob stood in the centre of the room; it had all been arranged and thought out.

Jasmine went to him, and they shared a passionate kiss, Jacob handled her rump and squeezed it.

'Oh Jacob, I have been longing for this moment,' she whispered into his mouth, but loud enough for Jack to hear!

'And me too babe, now get down on your knees and worship what you are dying to worship.'

'Yes Jacob, anything you say.'

She slid to her knees, they were sideways on to Jack, he would witness everything. Muffled protests were coming from him.

'Did you speak dear?' she asked him, as she pulled down Jacob's shorts to reveal his huge, to her, big black prick.

'Oh my Jack, just look at this?' she murmured seductively.

And looking her husband right in the eye, she kissed it.

It was stood out from his body in an upward arc, it was glorious, her pussy turned to jelly. Her husband was rocking slightly in his chair, completely helpless to do anything but watch.

'You wanted me to have black didn't you darling? You wanted to have me blacked, well, your wish has been granted. I am going to be blacked, and all night too, and you have the honour of watching your wife submit to this black god?'' she told him.

'Well, just like you wanted me to, I thought about it, and I have to agree with you, black is good, so here we all are, and we should rejoice in the fact that Jacob has agreed to fuck me with this?' And then she held his solid black erection in her mouth as she sucked it in, and caressed his swollen balls

Her head bobbed and weaved, the big purple head slid in and out, to be caught each time by Jasmines insistent full soft lips. Her hair was swaying about as she bent to her task, the task of making him cum for her. Her hands were running up and down, up to his chest as she rubbed his dark nipples, and down to his feet, and cupping his balls as she drifted past.

The trouble was, as Jasmine was trying to stick to the agreed programme with Jacob, her body was telling her otherwise. It wanted cocking and cocking very fast, it had no need for preliminaries, she was heated to full blast, her love juice was slipping down the inside of her thighs, but she forced herself to keep sucking on the beautiful black prick in her mouth, while her tortured husband looked on!

Jacob kept his eyes on her husband and was smiling at him, he knew the score, he was taking the mans wife, she was giving herself to him, she was his now, and he was going to fuck her rotten in front of him. He loved cuckolding a man, especially a white man, but this was the ultimate, it was a forced cuckolding!

He held the mans gaze, but he concentrated on the fabulous deep suction from Jasmine, he felt his balls tighten, he was on his way, he felt the sudden jerk in his scrotum, he grabbed Jasmine's head, and told her he was coming, and not to spill a drop or else!

He lurched on the balls of his feet and he shot his load into Jasmines willing and waiting mouth. Load after load ripped from him into her, her cheeks swelled, but she forced it all in and down. And the lovely taste surprised Jasmine, she didn't really like her husbands, but this was different, sensual, sexy and good.

Jacob said, 'Jasmine, that was great, I hope you fuck just as good,' but he just knew she would, someone this sexy and beautiful had to! He winked at the man tied and gagged in the chair. Jack was staring at them, at him, and at his wife bug eyed.

He watched as Jacob pulled his wife to her feet, and said to her.

'Jasmine, for that, I am going to make you scream for more and more of my black weapon, do you want me to make you do that?'

'Oh yes Jacob, I do, make me yours, make me your slut, take me, break me, make me your loving whore, you are my black prince now, you can take me whenever, and however you want, I promise!' Her eyes were on her husband as she spoke, she knew he would be devastated to hear her say it, but he needed to learn his place now, and learn it he would!

She looked at his cock, it was erect, she was amazed, he had a fucking hard on, then she laughed, pointed at it, and said. 'Look at that Jacob, he's got a hard on for us, isn't that sweet?'

'Why that's just great baby, now lets show him what a hard on is, and can do shall we?' He told her.

He took her to their bed, and ripped her filmy garments off, she was now ready to receive a fucking of immense proportions, the thought of it was making Jasmine dizzy, she wanted it, she was craving it, her body had taken over, the plans were out of the window, he was going to do with her all he wanted, he wouldn't ask her, he was taking her and that was going to be that! And that's what she wanted now, more than anything in her young life to date.

He held Jasmine in his arms and much to her delight, he hugged her, kissed her, and loved her, he rolled her tight and taut nipples in his fingers, she was almost drooling. Covering her with his large powerful body, her husband could only see bits of her sticking out from under him, but he could hear her, she was moaning, mewling grunting and urging him on.

Jasmine tried just once to glimpse her husband, she failed, she wouldn't try again, she was going where Jacob took her. Her husband saw the top of her beautiful head pop up, then fall back in a gasp.

Jacob was working her up into a fireball, he knew how to treat women, he knew just how to give them what they wanted, what they needed, and he was intent on giving Jasmine everything, he wanted her to come back to him in the future, he had plans already?

Jasmine was ready, she mumbled between deep breaths, 'Jacob, now, I want you now, please Jacob, don't make me wait any longer for it?' Her husband was out of her mind now, he wasn't there any longer. He heard every single gasp of her almost begging him to fuck her, his prick almost exploded.

Jacob rose like a magnificent black tsunami over her, and he plunged his prick deep and all the way into her effervescent body, Jasmine screamed softly, it was the most wonderful pain she had ever suffered, his prick seared and burned it's way up her boiling soaking love juiced pussy.

Jacob gave her it all in those few moments, her life was being turned upside down, she orgasmed in seconds, a week of frustration blasted out of her, and orgasm followed orgasm. She clung to him like a limpet mine waiting to blow up, her feet were tight over his thighs, her arms around him, and her perfectly manicured nails dug deep into his back as he pummelled the blonde beauty below him.

He had fucked a lot of women, and been paid handsomely for doing it, but nothing could outdo this, she was the most fabulous fuck he had had, she was glorious in every sense of the word, 'her husband must be the biggest fool in the world to even contemplate giving this up?' he thought.

He fucked with intensity and more power than he had ever given any other woman, she was incomparable. Even he had forgotten now about the man behind him tied down. He thumped her with his black solidly erect prick; she was like a rag under him. But he wanted to cum, most times he would wait, he could get his after, but not this time, he was going to give her both barrels. He shot a humongous load into her, Jasmine screamed one more time as her final orgasm hit her, nothing could ever have prepared her for this.

Jack, her husband could only watch as the mans muscular arse pumped up and down as he fucked his wife, a few inches of thick black prick would appear, then disappear again as he thudded it back into Jasmine's oil slick shaven pussy!

They fell in a heap into each other, both gasping for air, both completely wrecked, Jacob couldn't remember feeling like this after fucking a woman, but then, he knew for certain that Jasmine wasn't just any other woman!

He rolled to the side, pulling her with him, she had her back to her husband, Jacob looked over her shoulder, bit it, then looked at him, there was cum on his trousers, he had shot his own load untouched. He smiled at him, reached round Jasmine and fingered her arse. Her husband looked on horrified!

She had told Jacob that if things went the way she planned, then he could stay the night, and even fuck her in the morning, while he was still tied down, he intended for that to happen, there was no way he was going to give this up, hell would freeze over first!

Jasmine knew she had been fucked; and well fucked too! She was well used to sex, even though everyone in her life assumed she had been a hermit, she hadn't, her tutor had been a brilliant one, and he had shown her the way, and intermittent lover's, even a good friend of her father's had been given the honour of fucking her, had concluded her knowledge. She would giggle when people looked at her when sex was mentioned; it was if they regarded her as a nun!

She was neither, but they would never know that, she had been quite happy to settle down to married life with Jack, but because of his insistence, she had now entered new territory. Even she knew she had been in with a champ, a man who knew what fucking was about, and she liked it, she even loved it. Jasmine had changed now, her husband was in serious trouble, it was going to be her way now, or the highway, no halfway would be considered.

Jacob had won first prize in her personal raffle! And the fact that he was black was of no consequence, but it had been a definite bonus for her, she had never been any where near a black man, she'd had need to. Her life was taking a path now that would change her forever.

As Jacob fingered her arse, she admonished him playfully, buried her face into his neck and whispered into his ear.

'Later Jacob, you can have that if you really want it, no problem, but I want it to be just me and you, okay?'

Her husband heard him agree to something, but what?

Then Jasmine continued whispering, she had nothing but contempt now for Jack, his life was going to change completely, she had the upper hand now, and she was going to keep it, or else!

'Come on Jacob, lets go into the other room, he will be okay here, I want to be alone with you, I think he's got the message, he is in a hole, a hole of his making, and he's going to stay in it now!'

'You bet Jasmine, I got a lot of loving and fucking to do with you before we sleep!' he told her as his finger again disappeared into her beautiful arse, Jasmine giggled, again Jack was mortified.

But he was even more stunned when they got out of bed, and without even as much as a backward glance at him, except that Jasmine pressed the button on the chair, and he was suddenly laid back. They left the room and closed the door behind them. He was alone now, alone with nothing but his thoughts and misery. 'Why have I let this happen?' he thought, 'How fucking stupid can I have been?'

'What am I going to do, what can I do?' The answer at this time was, nothing! Nothing at all, the black bastard had his wife, his beautiful bride, and he was going to fuck her some more, but the thing that hurt him the most was, she was doing it willingly now, at first he had thought she was doing it to teach him a lesson, he was right she had been, but not now, she wanted what he was giving to her!

And he was dead right in his assumption, he had opened a door, more or less made her walk through it, and she had slammed it in his face. Was his life as he knew it over now? He had to say to himself, that the answer was yes, but he was bereft at the thought of being without her, maybe she would have terms for him to consider? Well he was right on that score, Jasmine would have terms for him for definite, but they would be terms that would bring him to his knees.

As she and Jacob climbed into the spare bed, she admired him, his body was tight, she sat over him, appraising him, he was 10/10 no doubt, he had a broad flat muscular chest, his shoulders were wide, her knees fit either side of him like a hand in a glove, she was impressed, very impressed. She had his prick lodged in the entrance of her gorgeous shaven pussy, her hands on his chest stroking him; she could feel the power of the man.

Jasmine fingered his bell end, her other hand behind her gently crushing his balls, he groaned in appreciation, wanting more from her, she pulled, squeezed and caressed it, it began to grow again, Jasmine was amazed, how could he go for a third time in such a short space of time?

He wasn't quite fully hard when she got on it, it softly filled her pussy like it had never been filled, every ounce of free space was full, and she could feel the strengthening of it, getting harder, it seemed to be in her womb, it was growing inside her like a baby. She had been on top of lovers before, but this was different, he hadn't seemed to be massively bigger than some previous lovers, but he was bigger than others before him somehow?

Jasmine began to work herself up and down on him, her hands helping her to lift and drop, he toyed with her nipples, he and she was building her up into a typhoon and a whirlwind, of a tempestuous storm, her orgasm was building in a slow swirl of heart wrenching, gut churning intensity, he was going with her, he couldn't resist her ministrations, she was making him follow.

Then the explosion hit her, she shouted out. 'Oh Jacob you bastard. Oh you fucking beautiful bastard, oh God, oh Jesus, Ooooh Aaargh, Humph Humph!' He followed with his own enormous ejaculation; it almost lifted her off him, he reached and grabbed her to pull her down onto him at the exact moment she fell down.

She opened her eyes as she lay on him, totally spent, she had no more to give now, and Jacob, for the first time in his life had experienced the same all shattering sensation Jasmine had. He also was spent; no woman had ever got him into this state. He held her tight, and whispered. 'I am not ever going to give you up Jasmine, you will have to use a crow bar to get me away from you, and that includes him in there!'

'Well Jacob, I think you maybe right, but there are things to talk about first?' she gasped.

In the other room, her husband had heard her call out, heard her swear and call him names, what had he done to his wife? He hated the man totally, 'if he has hurt her, I will have him!' he told himself. He would have died if he had seen Jasmine's performance, it was an Oscar winner, she had fucked Jacob, not the other way round, and she had called out because of the immensity of her orgasms.

Jasmine and Jacob slept, her husband was left in the quiet of their bedroom, and eventually he too slept.

It was 7:05 when she opened her eyes, she was dizzy, her pussy was on fire, her stomach ached, her nipples felt as though they had been ripped of. Then as her eyes focused, she saw the reason for it all laid next to her, Jacob!

She slipped her arm lovingly around him, and snuggled in, he awoke as she did, he collected her in his strong arms and they shared a very loving good morning kiss, Jasmine really saw then the wonderful contrast between them, the black, the white, her blonde hair laying on his chest, his black arm around her, her heart burst open at the feeling of it.

'Jacob?' she said softly.

'Yes baby?' he answered.

'No more this morning, I hurt too much?' and she giggled beautifully.

'Oh dear, I have a morning woody for you, what can you recommend?'

'I have just the right thing for that?' she said, as she dove under the covers and sucked him into her hot mouth, her gorgeous pouty lips lathered up and down, and the suction she gave was all he wanted, he came in 2 minutes flat, he filled her completely, and Jasmine battled gamely not to spill any, but what came out, she got back in, there was no trace of any cum when she finished.

They rested a while, and then she suggested they go for breakfast, he agreed, then said, 'What about him?'

'I'll go and see him, you go downstairs okay?' she told him.

This was a first for Jacob, a woman telling him what to do, it was usually the other way round after he had given them a good seeing to! But he went, Jasmine made herself look as good as only she could, and she walked into her bedroom, wearing sexy see through underwear. He awakened as she opened the door.

He looked at her pleadingly, he was bent, and twisted, she had brought him to his knees, she would have no trouble with him now?

'Before I take the gag out, I want you to listen to me, and listen very carefully Jack, okay?' Her voice was strong and uncompromising.

He nodded immediately.

'From now on, you will do as I say, you will have no authority in this house, you will obey me in everyway, If I order you to do something, or go somewhere you will do it. You will dress the way I tell you to. You will address me as Maam, or Mistress, you will not speak unless I permit you to do. And I will continue to see Jacob, or whoever I decide to see.' (she was thinking of Rebecca) 'Now the question you have to consider Jack, do you agree, or do you leave, and we divorce?'

She removed the gag, and he immediately sucked in fresh air, spat and emptied his mouth on the floor, it disgusted Jasmine, but she understood.

Jasmine waited.

He looked at her in a new light, but one he wasn't very happy with, but the trouble was, he loved her, life without her would be unbearable, he was in a corner, he knew it. There was one glimmer of hope, he had secretly always wanted to serve her, maybe not in this way, but he had wanted her to be his mistress, but had never had any idea of thought of how to get there, she had never given any indication that she would be that.

Still tied to the chair, he said. 'I don't seem to have much choice Jasmine, do I?'

'No Jack, you don't, unless you want to leave? There will always be sex for you, but only when I decide you have earned it, but only then.' She told him.

'Okay,' he said, 'I will do what you tell me to do.'

'And be what I want you to be? Everything I have just said to you? No question, or you will be thrown out, and I will get Jacob to do it, and you know now, that he can!' Her voice was strident, and powerful.

'Yes Jasmine,' he said.

She slapped his face; it took him by complete surprise.

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tagGroup SexChris' Wild Evening

Chris' Wild Evening

Chris looked out her kitchen window as the car pulled into the driveway. Her heart skipped a beat due to the excitement that jolted through her as she noticed her lover Alan getting out with a grin on his face. She was glad that she had invited him over for dinner and whatever else could happen...hoping that tonight was going to be a memorable night. She frowned as she saw the woman get out of the passenger side.

'That son of a bitch' she thought. 'He brought Lily with him. Now I wonder why he did that? I wonder if he knows that Lily and I have been to bed together. Nah, how could he?'

"Hey, Alan. Hey, Lily. What are you doing here?"

"Alan told me that you had invited both of us to dinner tonight."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Chris shot Alan a look that could have killed him dead on the spot thinking about how much she had wanted a romantic evening with him in her bed. Alan seemed to ignore her while producing a pair of bottles filled with white wine.

"Yes, I did."

"And just why did you do that? I thought you and I were supposed to have a romantic evening just for two."

"We're going to have that romantic evening. You'll see. Doug will be along in a little while to keep Lily company while we are amusing ourselves later on."

"Oh? You're just one surprise after another tonight, aren't you?" Chris was surpirsed that Alan had not only brought Lily without her knowing about it but had also asked Doug, whom she was not all that fond of knowing, to join them. She was just barely keeping herself under control and slowly losing the fight to a rising anger.

Alan poured them all a glass of wine and they sat drinking on the living room sofa, making small talk until the supper was ready to be served. Chris set an extra plate at the table and fumed as she smiled sweetly at Lily.

Soon, dinner was served and eaten. They returned to the sofa and listened to some soothing music. 'If only I felt soothed' thought Chris. The two bottles of wine were soon emptied and Alan disappeared for a while bringing back a keg of beer and a bottle of Scotch from the car. Even before the keg was near half empty, Chris was feeling little pain and her irritation with Alan and Lily was quickly waning.

"I gotta go pee." Chris announced while getting up from the sofa. Her legs were wobbly as she headed down the hall to the bathroom. Forgetting to close the door, she pulled her shorts and panties down over her knees and sat heavily on the commode seat. Chris' urine tinkled loudly in her ears as she pissed out the wine and beer combination.

"Don't bother to put your clothes back on." Chris' head jerked up and saw Lily standing in the doorway without a stitch of clothing on her voluptuous body. "It was getting hot in the living room so Alan and I decided that we didn't need our clothes to keep us warm and he sent me to tell you to get undressed too."

Chris wiped and stood up leaving her shorts and panties on the floor in front of the toilet. She quickly pulled her light blue sweater over her head exposing her braless 38C breasts, breasts she had spent a fortune on getting enhanced. Lily eyed them hungrily and stepped forward placing a hand on Chris' left breast. Chris covered Lily's hand with one of her own and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on Lily's lips while reaching up with her other hand to cup Lily's smaller tits. Chris squeezed the tit in her hand eliciting a soft moan from Lily. They broke the kiss and started back to the living room.

Much to Chris' surprise, Alan and Doug were sitting on the sofa with a hand on each other's stiffening cock slowly pumping away almost in unison. It was obvious that they had done this sort of thing before. Doug's head dropped into Alan's lap and Chris gasped as she saw Alan's prick slowly being taken into Doug's busy mouth. Standing there watching Doug try to suck the seed out of Alan's meaty sex spear was making Chris' cunt get to the point of being a complete swamp of pussy juices. She could feel the essence of her womanhood slowly drip down her thighs. Suddenly, she felt a tongue start to clean up the leaking juices and spread her legs wider to allow Lily access to her steaming womanhood. Looking down she saw Lily's eyes looking back at her and groaned her appreciation of the other woman's efforts. Chris' hands pushed on the back of Lily's head trying to draw her ever closer to her hot, dripping cunt.

Lily's mouth was being gentle, almost featherlike, in its attack, but the real turn-on was that Alan had swung Doug around into a sixty-nine position and they were both sucking each other's cock for all they were worth. Chris twisted around and brought Lily's cunt close enough to lick and suck. Her tongue licked Lily from asshole to clit, slowly at first and then increasing in intensity as her orgasm neared fruition. Chris could feel the spark start deep inside her and rush to her womb's opening. With a loud moan into Lily's pussy, Chris let go with a stream of hot pussy juice. This in turn triggered Lily's orgasm. Over on the couch, the two men's cocks expanded and exploded into each other's mouths.

Alan rolled off Doug and fell to the floor completely wiped out. Chris scooted over to Alan and started to suck and lick his seed from his wilting cock thinking to herself that while pussy juice was good, there was nothing like good man cum to turn her on. Lily did the same with Doug cleaning his cock of all traces of his sperm.

More beer flowed from the keg into four different bellies. The alcohol soon had Chris to the point of passing out. Alan crawled over to her and kissed her tenderly on the lips. Chris opened her mouth to welcome his tongue in for a brief fight even though she could taste traces of Doug's cum on Alan's tongue. Alan slowly kissed his way from her mouth to her two lovely breasts, sucking on each nipple in turn before continuing his journey southward. Only a tiny strip of blondish hair adorned Chris' pubes. Alan gently pulled on them with his lips and continued his trip to the promised land of pussy and honey.

At some point during Alan's gentle lovemaking Chris nodded off into a drug induced sleep. When she awoke just a short while later, she found herself spreadeagled face down on the bed with her hands and feet gently tied with soft straps made of silk. Vaguely she wondered how she came to be tied up like she was. Then she realized that she was also wearing a blindfold over her eyes. With her mind clearing from the fuzziness brought on by the beer she had drunk, she also realized that there was a male body under her and as the vibrator was removed from her cunt, a hard cock took its place. The owner of said cock did not move a muscle. Chris was lifted slightly and placed over the cock until it slid without any problem all the way to her cervix at the top of her womb.

Chris became aware of a gentle probing of the juncture between her legs. She was being probed anally by a vibrating dildo and vaginally with a hard, unmoving cock that were slowing building up in the intensity from their distinctly two types of penetrations and causing low moans to escape from her mouth.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she demanded. There was no answer but she felt hands rubbing oil between her butt cheeks and as the dildo was removed from her anal opening she felt a greasy finger and then two fingers penetrate her body. Soon a third finger was introduced into her rectum.

Chris moaned again as the cock that had penetrated balls deep inside her warm, dripping wet pussy started to twitch. She felt her own cunt muscles start to work on the penetrating cock, but still the man under her made not a single movement of his body.

The fingers in her ass had loosened Chris' spincter muscle to the point that she felt like she could take a two by four piece of wood up her rectum without any problem. She was somewhat surprised when the bed moved under her and she felt somebody kneel between her outstretched legs.

Chris gasped as she felt a cock tickle her asshole before plunging balls deep in one amazing thrust. As soon as this cock hit bottom and started to pull out of her, the cock she was riding with her cunt started moving also. The two cocks soon had Chris on the edge of the largest orgasm of her life. As her orgasm approached, a mouth latched onto Chris' left tit and sucked for all it was worth. This sucking and nibbling of her nipple pushed her over the edge and her orgasm spurted out of her cunt like a river. Just as she was coming down from the spasms created by this intense fucking, she felt two cocks expanding and erupting simultaneously in both her ass and her cunt. This had the effect of setting off a second orgasm. While it was of shorter duration than the first, it was still just as intense.

Hands reached out and untied her feet from the lower bedpost and then released her hands from the headboard. Chris slowly took off the blindfold to see Alan's smiling face looking up at her. Lily sat back down on the bed and spread her legs to Chris in an invitation, an invitation Chris took without hesitation. Before her lips met Lily's cunt, Chris looked over her shoulder to find Doug grinning from ear to ear.

"You are one hell of a fuck, lady. At least your asshole is one fine fuck. Sure you won't let me get into your pussy?"

"No way, Doug. If you're lucky after I get done with Lily I'll suck your cock a bit and clean anything she misses. Alan, if you had told me you had this planned, I would have dressed more appropriately...in my birthday suit."

"Would you have let both of us fuck you at the same time?"

"I don't think so."

"That's why I didn't tell you. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Who slipped me the Micky?"

"That was Lily's idea. We had to get you into bed and tied down without you knowing, didn't we?"

Chris smiled and thought to herself that it was definitely turning out to be a very long evening. She decided to try to wear all three of them out, even if it meant that Doug got to fuck her pussy.

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tagFetishCold Leather Revenge Pt. 02

Cold Leather Revenge Pt. 02

Chapter 5

Lydia stood tall & powerful above her boss, Donna Harris, who was on her knees kissing her newly acquired long leather boots. She could see Ms Harris squirming with contempt as she worshipped the boots that had so recently been wrapped around her own feet and legs.

'I think you've had quite enough, for now bitch.' Lydia snapped softly at Ms Harris who now rested back on her heels looking quite sorry for herself. Lydia could see Ms Harris had started welling up, the humiliation of being forced to relinquish & then worship her own boots was a powerful emotion.

'So, are we done? We can keep this between ourselves then Lydia?' Ms Harris almost croaked up at her tormentor.

'Done?' Lydia replied, 'Done? We haven't even begun yet you worthless little slut!' and she struck her hand across Ms Harris face, stinging her cheek.

'Ow' Ms Harris shrieked as she felt the stinging pain creep across her face.

'Listen to me, you've made my life a living hell for the past 4 years that I have worked here. From day one you strutted around as though you owned this place. I think it's time you learnt some manners & luckily for you, I'm the one who's going to teach you. Unless of course you want to take your chances and let your dirty little secret come out?' Lydia scorned down at Ms Harris.

Ms Harris absorbed all of this, fully aware that it would finish her. She would lose everything, her job, her reputation & more importantly, her recently acquired wealth. Her ex-husband would have no problem in counter-suing her for every penny she had if the evidence surfaced.

'No, no. I understand.' She replied to Lydia.

'Good. I see we have an understanding.' She replied. 'Now, I'm taking the rest of the day off. I have some preparations to make. You will meet me at your house, promptly at 6pm this evening. Is that understood?'

'Yes Lydia.' Ms Harris meekly replied.

Lydia grabbed Ms Harris ponytail and yanked her head upwards, facing her. 'Listen slut. You will address me courteously and respectfully. You have lost the right to address me by me first name. Whilst we are in private, you will address me as Mistress or Ma'am. In the presence of anyone else, you will address me as Miss Jones. Is that clear?'

'Yes Ma'am. Yes. I'm sorry.' Ms Harris replied, knowing full well by the look of sheer anger in Lydia's eyes that she meant every word.

Lydia shoved Ms Harris to the floor and walked over to the round table in the centre of the room and picked up the long leather coat and gloves that lay over one of the seats.

'You won't need these anymore. I think I will take them. Any objections?' she sneered as Ms Harris.

'But, but, what shall I wear? It is winter, it's freezing outside and I won't have a coat?' she snivelled, looking up at Lydia.

'Who cares. You're a resourceful woman. Find yourself something from "lost & found".' She snapped as she turned and strutted out of her office.

Walking back to her desk, she felt sexy & confident. Her new boots accentuated her body, she felt amazing. Picking up her bag, she shut her computer down and walked off down the corridor.

Still on her knees in her office, Ms Harris was in a state of disbelief. She looked down at her 'new' shoes and started sobbing to herself. She spent the rest of the day locked away in her office wondering how she was going to get out of this. Glancing at the photo's & the copies of her log book made her sob even harder. She was a broken woman.

Finally, four-thirty came & she picked herself up. Walking across her office, she felt her body shift uncomfortably as she tried to maintain her posture in the flat shoes. Her feet were accustomed to wearing heels of at least four inches and she found the arches in her feet throbbed. She finally made it to the lift and stepped inside.

Mr. Potter, the CEO, was standing inside. 'Good Afternoon Ms Harris.'

'Good afternoon Peter.' She replied, looking down at the floor. It was Peter Potter whom Ms Harris had first caught in a compromising situation. It was him that gave her the first echelons of power. To have him see her in this dishevelled state was truly embarrassing.

Mr. Potter looked her up & down. There was something different about her he thought. She was dressed in her normal manner but for some reason, she was wearing a ridiculous pair of flat wrinkled old shoes that was a complete mismatch to the rest of her outfit. And she wasn't carrying or wearing a coat? In the middle of November?

'Is everything alright Ms Harris? He asked.

'Yes, yes. Everything is fine.' She replied just as the lift doors opened.

Ms Harris walked off, uncomfortably, towards the basement. Entering, she approached the maintenance guy. After explaining a made up story that her coat had been torn & that she needed an emergency replacement, she walked out carrying a hideous sand coloured overcoat that looked like something peeping tom's wore.

Her humiliation was complete. She got into her car & drove out of the parking lot. Her mind was awash with the fate that awaited her. As she pulled into her driveway, she could see another car was parked there already with two occupants sat inside. Waiting.

Chapter 6

Ms Harris walked got out of her car and walked up to her front door. Immediately, the two people got out of their car.

'Welcome home Donna. I believe you know my boyfriend?' Lydia said.

Ms Harris looked across at Mike Lucas.

'Good Evening Ms Harris.' He motioned.

'Hello Mr Lucas' Ms Harris replied.

'Well? Aren't you going to invite us in Donna?' Lydia sarcastically sneered as Ms Harris stood, white with shock and despair at how she had been caught out by her own flirtatious stupidity.

Entering the house Lydia strolled straight through to the living room, beckoning Ms Harris to follow.

'Come here Donna.' Lydia said to Ms Harris, motioning her to her knees at her feet. Instantly, Ms Harris dropped to her knees and shuffled along the carpet to Lydia's feet. She looked up, noticing that along with the black leather boots that not so long ago adorned her feet, Lydia was also wearing her long black leather coat & gloves.

Lydia rested one gloved finger under Ms Harris chin and lifted her head to look up at her.

'Now Donna. We have ourselves a little situation don't we.' Lydia started.

'Yes Ma'am.' Ms Harris subserviently replied.

'You've been a naughty little slut haven't you?' Lydia asked, teasing her gloved fingers along Ms Harris neckline.

'Yes Ma'am. I have.' Ms Harris replied, trying to avert her eyes & look down at the floor.

'And what happens to naughty little slut's Donna?' Lydia asked.

'I don't know Ma'am. They get punished?' Ms Harris hesitantly replied.

'That's right. They get punished.' Lydia replied, smiling down at her former boss. Seeing the look of fear and anguish in Ms Harris eyes was exciting for Lydia. She remembered all the times Ms Harris had belittled her in the office. All the times she had made her feel worthless, useless, and had caused her to worry about her job & financial security.

'Now Donna. I want you to think about what you've done. All the times you made ME suffer. All the times you were mean to me. All the worry & stress you put me through. How did it make you feel, having that power over somebody? Hmm? Tell me.' Lydia spoke, teasingly rolling the last words. Encouraging Ms Harris to incriminate herself more.

'It, it felt, it felt good Ma'am.' Ms Harris replied, now trembling. Her face beginning to beam a bright shade of red while she stared at the floor. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the toe of one of Lydia's boots glistening in the light. Instantly she became insanely jealous. Jealous that she had lost her symbol of power. Jealous that her boots were now being displayed, teasingly inches away from her glowing face.

'I can see you down there' Lydia said 'Even now, you can't take your eyes off of these can you?'. Lydia twirled her foot teasingly, watching how Ms Harris followed her every move.

'Tell me Donna, how did it feel giving these up?' Lydia asked.

'It was horrible Ma'am.' She replied.

'Horrible?' exclaimed Lydia in a mocking tone. 'Horrible to relinquish these very beautiful boots to someone you have abused & controlled for a very long time?' she continued.

'Yes Ma'am. Very horrible.' Ms Harris said, almost to the point of sobbing.

'Oh I'm sorry to hear that. If you miss them so much, why don't you give them a little kiss. Go on. Show me how much you miss them.' Lydia ordered. Mike sat watching with amazement as Ms Harris willingly submitted to his girlfriends commands.

Shuffling forward, Ms Harris slowly bent down so that her face was directly level with the toe of Lydia's boot. Inhaling deeply, she could smell the soft leather combined with the natural odour of Lydia's feet. As she leant forward to let her lips touch the soft black leather, she could feel herself getting moist. She let out a little sigh as her senses became overcome with passion. Sensing this, Lydia yanked Ms Harris up by her ponytail.

'What the fuck do you think you are doing? Are you getting excited? I heard you, you dirty little slut!' she shrieked at Ms Harris.

'I'm sorry Ma'am. I'm sorry.' Ms Harris replied, having been snapped back to reality so abruptly.

'Stand up. Now!' Lydia said.

Ms Harris stood, instantly her feet ached as she attempted to correct the imbalance of her arches by tip toeing. Noticing this, Lydia stood to meet her glaze.

'Suffering are we slut?' she asked.

'Yes Ma'am. My feet ache.' Ms Harris replied.

'That's because you are used to wearing your slutty heels all the time. Isn't it? You look ridiculous wearing those old things!' she barked at Ms Harris, motioning to her old shoes that Ms Harris reluctantly wore.

'Yes Ma'am. I am.' Was all that Ms Harris could reply, feeling her face burn red again with embarrassment.

'I tell you what slut. Why don't we all go upstairs and we can find you something more appropriate.' Lydia said. 'Follow me.' And with that she reached a gloved hand out to Mike, who reached up and wrapped his fingers into hers. Walking hand in hand across the room, Ms Harris watched. Insanely jealous.

Stood in the hallway, Lydia motioned Ms Harris to go in front. Climbing the stairs and reaching Ms Harris bedroom, Lydia stood in the doorway.

'Darling, lay on the bed.' Lydia said softly to Mike. 'I think you will enjoy this.'

As Mike climbed onto the bed, Lydia grabbed Ms Harris by the pony tail and led her across the room.

'Now slut. Strip.' She commanded.

'I'm sorry?' Ms Harris asked.

'I said strip you worthless shit.' And with that, Lydia tore at the front of Ms Harris blouse, exposing her bra and chest.

Ms Harris quickly removed her ripped blouse and stood motionless.

'Carry on, and be quicker about it.' Lydia ordered.

Ms Harris tugged at the zipper of her skirt then shimmied it down to her ankles. Revealing her underwear to her secretary & her lawyer boyfriend was embarrassing. She could feel the continued humiliation welling inside her.

'Well, well, well. Don't we look like a dirty little slut!' Lydia remarked. 'Seamed stockings? Lacy little suspender belt, almost non-existent little thong? Seems like my pet word for you has some truth in it after all doesn't it slut?' Lydia said sarcastically, although inside she quietly admitted to herself that Ms Harris choice of underwear was sexy as hell.

'Yes Ma'am.' Was all Ms Harris could reply.

'Now then slut, when we were downstairs you were getting yourself all worked up while you were kissing MY new boots weren't you?' Lydia asked.

'Yes Ma'am. I was.' Ms Harris replied.

'Hmmm. So if I checked now, would you still be excited?' Lydia asked.

'Yes Ma'am.' Ms Harris replied.

'Well, why don't you show Mike here how excited you are. Pull down your panties.' Lydia ordered.

As Ms Harris pulled down her panties, she could feel her shame building up inside her again. She showed no hesitation in disobeying her orders, only the sense of becoming more and more turned on.

'Darling, here -- feel.' Lydia said to Mike, motioning him over. As he sat at the end of the bed, Lydia grabbed Ms Harris by the pony tail and led her to the bed, forcing her to display herself.

'My, my, you are horny aren't you?' Mike said as he teasingly brushed his fingers across her pussy.

'That's because she really is a filthy slut. Isn't that right my little pet. You're a filthy little slut who's lost her boots.' Lydia mocked.

'Yes Ma'am. I am.' Ms Harris replied, feeling a combined feeling of humiliation & excitedness.

'How are those arches doing? Still aching slut?' Lydia asked.

'Yes Ma'am. They are sore.' Ms Harris replied.

'Good. You deserve it! Find yourself some slutty heels then, relieve the pain. Show me where your shoe collection is.' Lydia said.

'Thank you ma'am.' Ms Harris replied, scurrying over to the wardrobe. Opening the door to the huge walk in wardrobe, Ms Harris turned on the light. She bent down and picked up a pair of black five inch pumps.

'Ma'am. May i?' she asked.

'You may. Then, I want to inspect your wardrobe. Understood?' Lydia replied.

'Yes Ma'am.' Ms Harris replied, whilst slipping the heels on. Instantly, the pressure lifted from her feet as they adjusted to her natural curvature of the heel.

'Where is all of your lingerie slut?' asked Lydia.

'Here ma'am.' Ms Harris replied, leading Lydia over to a dresser containing six drawers. Opening the drawers up, Lydia found all sorts of seductive underwear. Basques, girdles, suspender belts, all in varying colours and types of material. Opening the bottom drawer, Lydia gasped when she found a range of restraints & gags.

'Oh my goodness. Are these yours slut?' Lydia asked.

'Yes Ma'am' Ms Harris replied.

'and you use them on your victims?' Lydia asked.

'Yes ma'am.' She replied, looking down at the floor.

'I see.' Lydia said, a wry smile creeping across her lips as she beamed at Mike who was sat at the end of the bed admiring the pleasure his girlfriend was having in exacting her revenge.

'Now. Where are your shoes and boots?' Lydia asked.

Ms Harris led Lydia & Mike over to the walk-in and stood inside, head bent down.

'My word, you have a huge collection. You must be quite the spender on all this slut wear.' Lydia said, shocked by the hundreds of pairs of shoes and boots that were all neatly arranged inside the walk in.

'Yes Ma'am. I love my shoes & boots.' Ms Harris replied hesitantly.

'I can see. Well, why don't you pick out your favourite pair of boots. I might even let you put them on if you're a good girl.' Lydia said.

'Yes Ma'am. Thank you ma'am.' Ms Harris replied, and with a spring in her step pulled out a pair of thigh high six inch black leather lace up boots before returning to her knees in front of Lydia.

'Nice choice. Now, beg me to allow you to wear them slut.' Lydia commanded.

'Please Mistress, allow me the honour of wearing my boots. Please. I need to feel them on my feet, around my legs. I beg you.' Ms Harris said, sounding almost despairingly desperate.

'As you asked so nicely, I think I will allow you to wear some boots. Are these your favourite ones slut?' Lydia asked.

'Yes Miss. They are. I only wear them on special occasions. They were custom made for me.' Ms Harris explained, now getting excited at the prospect of regaining some of her power & dignity.

'I see. Well, first I want you to remove these boots from me. I've been wearing them most of the day now and they are very sweaty from my feet.' Lydia spoke, softly and teasingly.

'Yes Miss.' Ms Harris answered and like a shot, started pulling down the zipper on Lydia's left boot.

'Pull it off of me slut, then I want you to sniff. Hold it up to your nose so that my aroma engulfs your senses.' Lydia commanded as she watched Ms Harris obey.

The boot was pulled off and Ms Harris raised it to her nose, inhaling deeply. The sweaty leathery smell went straight to her head. She cold feel her pussy explode at the intake of leathery sweaty aroma.

'Now the other one slut.' Lydia barked.

Ms Harris repeated the process with the other boot, again feeling her pussy explode in a wave of wetness. The smell coupled with the prospect of wearing her favourite boots almost sent her into spasm.

'Good girl. I can see you like that.' Lydia remarked.

'Yes Ma'am. I did Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am.' Ms Harris replied, still feeling dizzy from the aphrodisiacal aroma.

'Good. Now, I want you to remain where you are, with one of my boots over your nose. Keep on inhaling that sweet smell.' Lydia commanded.

Ms Harris nodded in compliance as Lydia strode over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of lace top black stockings. She seductively rolled them up her leg, then pulled out a black leather basque from another drawer & clipped the suspender straps, affixing them to the stockings.

Next, Lydia pulled out a pair of tiny leather panties that matched the basque. Strolling back over to the bed, she put the gloves back on.

'What do you think slut? Do you mind me trying on your underwear?' Lydia sneered, looking down at Ms Harris who was still inhaling the booted aroma from Lydia's discarded boots.

'No Miss.' Ms Harris replied, muffled from inside the boot.

'Good. I think these will match this outfit perfectly, won't they Mike?' Lydia said, picking up Ms Harris thigh boots especially selected as being her favourite.

'I completely agree darling. You look amazing.' Mike replied, almost in a trance like state.

As Lydia started putting on one of the thigh boots, Ms Harris began softly moaning into the boot. She had now sunken even lower as it dawned on her that Lydia had set her up. Seeing her own secretary dress in her most seductive underwear & start to pull on her favourite boots whilst she was made to kneel and sniff the sweaty smell of the boots she had earlier lost was the complete humiliation that Ms Harris found so very sexy. She was numb with the feeling of fear, shock & loathing at the employee who had managed to completely turn the tables and use her like the slut she really was.

Lydia pulled the second boot on and stood to admire her new look. Strolling over to the dresser, she pulled out of the bottom drawer a set of wrist cuffs, a length of rope and a black leather face strap complete with red ball gag.

'Now slut, what do you think. I think my new boots look good on me. Don't you agree?' Lydia said.

'Your new boots Ma'am? But, but I thought these boots were yours' Ms Harris answered, looking at the knee high's she was forced to sniff.

'Oh yes, they are too. In fact, I am going to "take over" your wardrobe for the foreseeable future. Unless you have an objection?' Lydia sneered.

Chapter 7

Ms Harris was on her knees, tearfully watching as her secretary paraded herself in front of her boyfriend while dressed in her sexiest underwear & her sexiest pair of boots. The boots, which had been a formidable ally to her in her conquests of blackmail and power, were now abruptly taken from her.

'So slut, what do you think? I'm so very grateful you've agreed to let me have these . They fit lit a glove, don't you agree?' Lydia said, sarcastically looking down upon her employer & completely enjoying the look of despondency in her eyes.

'Yes Miss. They're lovely.' Ms Harris replied, desperately trying not to look at her former boots.

'Come now, you can do better than that? I thought these were your favourite boots?' Lydia said.

Ms Harris looked up, tearfully, seeing how her gorgeous boots were being worn so seductively by a woman who was on a power trip of immense sexual stimulation. It hurt her to see how sexy Lydia was, especially as she looked on to see Mike perched on the edge of the bed admiring his girlfriends newly found confidence.

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tagIncest/TabooDaddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 06

Daddy's Little Psychopath Ch. 06

This is a special chapter of "Daddy's Little Psychopath" that introduces a new central character: Katy as well as taking a very dramatic twist for the series. I hope you like it.

Now for my new readers: this is the third installment of my Daddy's Little Psychopath series. Chapter One can be found here, Chapter Two can be found here, Chapter Three can be found here, Chapter Four can be found here, and Chapter Five can be found here. You can expect this story to contain the following tags: cuckquean, father-daughter incest, mother-daughter incest, rough sex, reluctance, and blackmail. If that isn't your cup of tea, you can try most of my other series, as they are quite different from this one.

Please, please, please leave a comment below. I can't stress enough how much feedback helps me write.

This is a new journal that I've taken to recording in order to organize my thoughts better. I apologize if I make any grammatical mistakes or show a less than acceptable understanding of the English language, as my first language is Arabic.

So, please allow me to introduce myself. My very formal name is Princess Kathirah bint Saleh Abd al-Hasan . . . but most Americans know me by the simpler name of "Katy" Hasan. I picked up that nickname during my first year or so living in the United States, when I was just a little girl. I gave my teacher attitude because she was doing a math problem wrong, and I refused to agree with her even when she hit me on my knuckles and made me write "I will not act like a know-it-all" three thousand times. People said that I was being "catty", and eventually, everyone just shortened my first name to call me that all the time.

I was born the final child of thirty-seven to Prince Saleh Abdul Hasan, and my father decided to use me as sort of an "experiment". I don't mean that in a bad way. It was just that, after raising eighteen of my brothers and eighteen of my sisters, my father decided that his final child would be the one he raised to be special. I was sent to the United States when I was only a baby, to be raised and educated both in the ways of the West and the East. My father wished for me to be something unique—exactly what he expected me to grow into, I'm not sure, and he died before he could reveal the grand plan to me.

As a result, I'm a product of two worlds. I speak both Arabic and English fluently, although I feel much more comfortable in the former. I'm well-versed in both American and Saudi history, culture and literature, and I have an education which is both Islamic and secular. I'm more than capable of blending in completely in either worlds, being able to drop my Arabic accent for an American one and vice-versa, but I much prefer to simply be myself. It's far less stressing that way.

I was followed everywhere by a team of chaperones and tutors, but when I grew older, I became bold enough to try venturing on my own from time to time. I became a party girl, drinking, clubbing, doing all of the things good Muslim girls shouldn't. Well, everything except one. I never let anyone take my virginity, although many, many men tried. Don't get me wrong—it wasn't because I was a prude or anything . . . while it's true that Islam forbids sex outside of marriage, the rules are different when you're rich, and especially when visiting outside of Saud. I've actually broken several of your American laws several times since I was a child, but it was all covered up because my father was one of the richest men in the world.

As the saying goes in my family, "The rules need not have meaning to us."

I was a very naughty girl. I liked attention, so I intentionally wore clothes that barely covered my breasts, my rear, or my legs. I have a birthmark just below my left butt-cheek, and the rule I always followed was that if my outfit covered the mark, I wouldn't wear it. I wanted men's tongues dragging across the floor when they saw me, and for the most part, I got what I wanted. However, it was frustrating that most of the men that approached me were all Muslim, because even when I was younger, I had developed a fetish for white men.

I wanted my first lover to be special. I wanted him to be kinky, exotic, and something I would remember forever, even when I would eventually return home and probably be married to some boring Saudi guy. I wanted to release all of my inhibitions and fulfill my every fantasy while in the States. Oh yes, some of us Muslim girls are that way—that's something the news will never tell you.

One day, I was approached by a man who said that he was searching for "talented" girls. I did not know what exactly he meant, but I decided to try this. Eventually, I was sent for "testing" with other girls. There were over forty of us, and many of them were foreigners like myself. We were all instructed to strip ourselves naked in front of total strangers and try on various lewd and perverse clothes. The men had cameras and videotape with them, and they filmed us all. Some of us were instructed to touch each other and look into the camera a certain way. Some of us were even made to kiss.

That was my first experience touching my lips to another woman's . . . and I did not find it to my disliking.

The men thanked us for our time and released us, saying that they would be in touch. They called each of us back for more pictures and more making out, but one by one, some of the girls never came back. Whatever happened to them, I was the last girl to be approached . . . and I believe it had something to do with the fact that I was still a virgin at the time. I have heard that this would have made me "priceless" in certain circles.

When I was eventually approached for "work", I was called in to take several more pictures, and a video where I did nothing but describe myself and talk about what sort of things I liked and disliked. They asked me who my favorite actor was (Matt Damon), what sort of guys I liked (brown hair, blue eyes, light skin), and what my turn-ons were (letting go, being a complete, wanton slut, being fucked like a cow). The men once again thanked me and then paid me for my time—I had never held so much American money in my hands at one time! They told me that if I wanted more where it came from, that I only needed to continue coming when they called.

Eventually, I was contacted by someone through email . . . this mysterious person would only refer to themself as the "Buyer", who said that they were acting on behalf of an equally mysterious "Client". I was never allowed to know the name of this Buyer, and the only business ever conducted was electronically. However, I was told that I would get to meet the Client in person should I meet certain criteria.

I wasn't naïve. I knew that I was being traded as a good . . . but this was such an opportunity for me. The thought of being marketed off sort of appealed to a darker side within me and gave me a rush that was unbelievable. The Buyer told me that all I needed to do was meet the Client and his wife, and do anything and everything they told me to. It would be over within hours, and I would walk away with more money than I could count. Of course, I didn't really need the money . . . but the thought of taking it for letting a stranger have my pussy made me wet.

When I was eventually called and told that I was "hired", I only asked the "Buyer" for one request: to see a picture of the man that would take my virginity. I was sent a picture by mail with no return address. He was most handsome man I'd ever seen in my life. Matt Damon could go screw himself.

His name was David. He was brown-haired with specs of gray, he had a very rugged and sexy five o'clock shadow, and his eyes were crystal blue. His nose looked strong and narrow, his lips were thin but soft, and his chin was thick. His skin was peach, with the lightest of tans. He was everything I had ever wanted and more.

Of course, I was nervous . . . and that only increased my excitement. I wanted to live dangerously—I wasn't within the States because I wanted to be coddled and protected. I wanted to live a life to be remembered, and to make my own choices, for good or for bad.

I went to David's home and steeled myself for what was to come. I was directed to a lovely home deep within a lush, forested hillside, somewhat separated from the nearest city and miles away from another home. I went to the front door and rang the bell.

When the door opened, I was greeted by a lovely woman who appeared to be somewhat in her late thirties, although I would soon find out that she was actually in her early forties and simply looked very good for her age. She was dark-haired and fair of skin like David was, and she possessed friendly brown eyes. I knew immediately that she must have been David's wife, and imagined that the two of them must have made some gorgeous children together. She invited me inside and made me feel right at home. She asked my name and even made me a cup of tea, telling me to wait in the living room until she could locate her husband so that he could meet me himself.

I had never been more scared in my life, nor so excited. I did not know what these two wished to do with me, only that it would be something sexual and that I was being paid to fulfill their every desire. As I stated already, I was still a virgin at this time, and I was still "intact" as a proper Muslim woman should be. But, if I went through with this, I would be finally crossing a line that I would never be able to turn away from.

Finally, the woman returned from the top of the stairs and said that David would be soon to join us. I stood and waited for this man to appear . . . to see what kind of creature I was willing to be sold to. My heart was pounding so fiercely in my chest, and my palms had run cold. Half of my mind told me to run out of the door, return to my family and my chaperones and tell them that I was foolish. But, the other half would not allow it.

So, I waited. And then he appeared.

For me, it was pure love at first sight.

For the first time in a while, I couldn't fully enjoy Daddy's cock while it slowly pumped into my tight, hungry pussy. My mind was in two places at once, mulling over what I'd heard being said between The Bitch and that detective that had shown up earlier that day. The conversation was very odd, with nothing that really seemed to be worrisome, but that was actually what worried me the most. Those questions were almost pointless for a hired investigator to ask, which led me to believe that he was attempting to gauge The Bitch's reactions. Unfortunately, neither the audio nor the camera angle gave me a good indication of how she'd reacted or what her facial expressions were. But knowing her dumb ass, she was probably as subtle as a bonfire.

That meant that this detective was suspicious. And that he would be back.

I didn't dare tell Daddy what had happened. He had more important things to do, like making sure that our sweaty, wet bodies rubbed together while he mounted me from behind. Daddy didn't need to concern himself with the day-to-day. He didn't need to even think at all. I would do all of those things for him. All I needed him to do was use my pussy for his own delight, and make sure that he kept me filled with his milky seed.

Daddy delivered on all levels. He spent a solid half-hour fucking me hard from behind, sawing in and out of my moist cunt. He grunted like an animal every time he thrust all the way into me, and the impact was so hard that my arms nearly gave out after a few minutes. We were only half into it and my body was completely covered with sweat, and I could feel it dripping from him as well. The sheets below me were soaked with the efforts of our lovemaking.

Eventually, Daddy slowed down and began making slow love to me. Keeping his cock buried to the hilt while he pulled me against him and kissed me from behind. I rolled my tongue and my father's tongue together until we'd swapped saliva, and then I looked him deep in the eyes and soaked in the fire in his eyes as he continued to slowly grind my pussy and squeeze my tits. His hands wandered, everywhere, the slickness of my sweat, making it effortless for him to touch me anywhere he pleased—and I encouraged him to touch me everywhere. I loved feeling his strong hands over every part of me.

Then, abruptly, Daddy threw me face down on the bed again and began to fuck me even more savagely than before. It was just a constant tremor of action, my body bouncing back and forth on Daddy's cock with complete abandon while he fucked me with an inhuman pace. There was no gentleness or rhythm of any kind. Daddy just took me like a force of nature, and I lay on my stomach and let him.

He eventually grasped my hips hard and shot his load deep inside me, where our next child had already begun to grow. I was now a full month pregnant with Daddy's sixth child . . . well by me, anyway, but I don't count any of those other pieces of garbage he made with those other sluts . . . and he already had me wishing he could somehow get me pregnant again. I'd carry a thousand of Daddy's babies in me if it were possible. I'll give him all the children he could ever want.

That's why this detective situation was pissing me off. Where the fuck did he come from? What did he want? I finally had everything I always wanted. Daddy was completely happy, The Bitch was a broken cuckquean, and I shared my bed with the only man I'd ever loved. Eleven years of planning and my genius had finally made it happen.

So, why couldn't the rest of the world just fuck off and die!?

"Oh God, David . . . I . . . I love what you do to me. I love the way you feel inside me."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as I continued to feel his balls slap against me from behind with each thrust. "Tell me how much you love it."

"I l-l-love it more than anything in the world, David! I've never felt s-s-so good!"

"So do you want my cock in you as often as possible?"

"Y-Yes, David! I want it in me always!"

"That makes you my slut, you know that? That makes you my slutty little slave to fuck whenever I have the need."

"Yes, David! I'm your slut! Your slave! Your whore! Your sharmootaa! Just don't ever stop fucking me! Please, don't ever stop!"

"What will you do for my cock, slut?"

"I will do anything you ever ask me to, David! I will follow your every command!"

"Then say right now that you'll be my slave from here on, and that you want no other cock but mine."

"I . . . I will be your slave from here on, David . . . now and forever! I will never let another cock near me but yours!"

"Tell me that you want to have my baby."

"Yes! Yah, Allah! I will have your baby, David! I will have as many of your babies as you want! I will be your woman, for you to use and impregnate as you see fit, now and forever!"

Sitting alone in my home, I listened to that recording over and over. I wasn't allowed to bring a video recorder to my "sessions" with David, but I was able to smuggle audio one. I kept it in my purse the whole time, and I often listened to it when I returned to my home and thought of David.

Faleen, my chaperone and friend, felt concerned for me, saying that I was becoming too "attached" to the American man. She said that I needed to remember that this was all in fun, and that I needed to remain respectfully aware of my role as a Saudi princess.

But I didn't listen to a word of it.

I was in heat, I was in lust, and I was in love. I thought about David every day and every night. My body burned white hot when he wasn't inside me, and no matter how much money I received from the "Buyer", it was never enough. The money only made things worse. It told me that David was only mine so long as the Buyer was willing to pay. If he . . . or she . . . ever decided to end things, I would never have my David again.

When David finally made me pregnant, it was the happiest day of my life, despite the furled brows of everyone in my court. I'd wanted so badly to give him a baby, and Allah, who is all-powerful and all-kind, finally blessed me with one. The all-knowing one understood what a great man, David was.

I wanted to add to the four children he already had. He was always such a wonderful father whenever I saw him with his own children as well as the two grandchildren his daughter had produced from her various boyfriends. David loved children, and I knew he wanted nothing less than to see my body swelling with his child. At last, I was able to deliver just that.

David carried me over the threshold like a blushing bride when I broke the news to him, and we spent the entire day making love. No other women . . . not even his wife . . . just he and I. I had never felt so loved or fulfilled. I knew I'd made the right choice to make this man the father of my children, and I swore that I would keep my body in good health to bear him many more for the far, far future. Even if it one day cost me my family and fortune.

My belly grew at a steady rate, and David watched me with a keen eye. He enjoyed touching my swollen belly, and seeing his fruit stretch me. I intentionally wore the tightest clothes I could find for him, even if they were a size or two too small, just so that he could see how obscene I looked. On more than one occasion, David was on hand to witness my breasts tear through a bra that didn't fit me or my belly pop a button on a shirt too small. It drove him crazy with lust to me, and he could never keep his hands . . . or cock . . . off of me.

In the meantime, however, I sometimes began to wonder of his wife. I wanted to speak to her on occasion, but we could rarely exchange words. I think she saw me as just another of her husband's distractions—after all, the black girl Sera had been impregnated by David just as well—but I wanted to be friends with her, because I wasn't planning on going anywhere. I had no desire to steal another woman's husband, but Islam doesn't insist that a man can only belong to one woman. A strong, willful man can love many women, and I had no doubt that David held love for us both. I also suspected that David had another lover as well . . . . There was never any evidence of such a thing, but it was just a feeling I acquired after nearly a full year of being a part of his household.

Soon, it became time for me to give birth, and I started to think long and hard about my future with David and that of our children. The nearer I came to my delivery, the more the situation weighed at my conscience. Here I was, pledged to belong to David until the end of time, and I was still accepting money for servicing him like a common whore. Receiving pay for wifely or motherly duties would be one thing, but I was being paid by a third party for doing nothing but opening my legs for him. I didn't want that for David anymore. He deserved to have me, and to know that the money meant nothing to me compared to his happiness.

But, that was when tragedy struck. When I tried to change the deal with the "Buyer", he or she became furious and immediately forbade me from ever seeing David again! I pleaded with them to change their mind, but they stopped returning my mail, and eventually the server told me that the email address no longer even existed! A few days later, mysterious men . . . armed men . . . arrived at my door. They came in and made themselves at home in my home. Some of them even began to eat my food! My tutors and chaperones did their best to protect me, and make me feel safe, but they weren't trained bodyuards.

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tagFirst TimeFinal Breath

Final Breath

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my entry into the 2012 Halloween Erotic Story Contest. All characters engaged in sexual activity in my story are 18 years of age and older. Before reading I invite you to listen to the song "Final Breath" by Pelican, it's after this song that I got the title for my story, and the song plays a part in an important scene as you'll read below. You can Google it or find it on YouTube. You may like the song, you may hate it, but I hope you at least get a sense of why I had the thought that it would fit in well with a Halloween-themed story. I hope you enjoy the story, and please vote and/or leave comments, I would appreciate it very much.

Some of my football teammates often wondered how I could ever be friends with her. At least one of them even went to great lengths to convince me to change my mind and refuse her invitation to the Halloween party she was hosting with her friends.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

The "her" in this case is Erin Callaghan, a right proper Irish name if there ever was one. Even at 18 years old, as she was going into Halloween, she was a little thing, just about five feet tall and, if I were to guess, lucky to break ninety-five pounds soaking wet. I was also 18 at the time, but I was well over six feet tall, so when she was standing next to me, we looked like a mismatched set. Maybe she wasn't your prototypical cheerleader with the stunning body to match, but she was definitely attractive.

Or, at least, I thought so.

My opinion was not shared by many at our high school, largely because she immersed herself so heavily into its goth scene.

Her hair had been dyed jet black for at least a couple of years or so, maybe longer. She wore plenty of black makeup and nail polish, though not quite as much as some of her peers, and she sometimes applied white foundation on her cheeks to make her pale skin look even... well, more pale. Her jewelry choices were interesting, to say the least; many pieces were shaped like a funky-looking cross (she later taught me this design was known as an ankh, a symbol of life in ancient Egyptian times), and when she really dressed to fit the goth part her centrepiece was a thick black, metal-studded collar she wore around her neck. And then there was the black clothing... seriously, I don't think she currently owned any clothing that wasn't at least almost totally black.

So Erin looked different than most of her peers, and definitely different from the "cool" kids. And that meant she would never be thought of as pretty by the high school population at large. No, the harsh truth of it was that most kids, if they thought of her at all, considered her a freak.

But I considered her to be beautiful.

And I had insight that few others had. Erin's family grew up next door to mine. I remembered what she originally looked like. Her hair was naturally blonde, and she wore it long for as long as I could remember; by the time she was eight or nine it had flowed all the way down to the small of her back. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with life. She had a smile that could charm the most heartless of men. With the little-boy innocence I had then, I thought she was very pretty.

Girls in general didn't interest me then. But Erin did. She was my playmate when we were very young and we grew to be great friends. I took some grief from my grade school mates about having a girl as such a close friend, but it didn't bother me a bit. We did everything together as kids. Our parents would host joint parties every summer because our July birthdays were only two days apart. She even had her parents sign her up for co-ed softball and soccer teams just so we could play together, even though she didn't care too much about sports. In return I played house and tea party with her more times than I can count. Even though I often complained out loud about how girly such games were, the secret truth was I enjoyed them because it meant more time together with Erin.

It broke my heart when, during the summer before we were to start sixth grade, Erin and her family moved to another city, one that was at least an eight hour drive away by car, on account of her father getting a promotion at work. The last night together before her move, Erin and I did little except hold on to each other and cry on each other's shoulder. My parents were concerned and tried to tell me that we could still write to each other, but otherwise I would make other friends and life would be just fine. My ten-going-on-eleven year old mind didn't have that kind of perspective, so at the time it felt like my world was collapsing around me.

But my mother and father, as good parents so often are, were eventually proven right. The rest of my grade school experience was nothing special, but that all changed with my transition to high school. I met a lot of new people in my freshman and sophomore years due to the varsity sports teams I joined, and soon enough I developed some great friendships. My burgeoning athletic abilities, aided in part by a significant growth spurt, and, if I may be so bold as to say it, casual good looks made me very popular in my new surroundings. I had my fair share of attention from girls and went out on quite a few dates, but nothing seemed to click, and as I was about to start my junior year I found myself without a steady girlfriend. I would have liked one, for sure, but at that point I felt I had no reason to panic.

Some people who didn't know me may have thought I was just a popular, dumb jock, but nothing could have been further from the truth. I was smart and worked hard in school to maintain a good average, just as my parents wished and demanded of me. That combined with my easy-going attitude allowed me to get along well with schoolmates of all kinds, the "nerds" and "outcasts" as well as the popular crowd.

As for Erin, we did write back and forth religiously for a while. Then one day the replies just stopped. She had seemingly dropped off the face of the earth, as far as I could tell. No more letters (we joked while writing them about how "old-school" we were being), no more e-mails, no more communication of any kind. Eventually I realized it had been several months since she last wrote to me. After thinking about it for a while, I supposed she had simply moved on with her life, so I figured I should do the same.

So imagine my surprise when Erin showed up next to my locker at the end of a school day, just barely a week into that new junior year. Of course, I didn't recognize her at first. If I knew I was going to see her again I would have expected an older, more developed version of my childhood blonde best friend, not the mousy, nervous little creature dressed in black and with medium-length, black, wiry hair that I saw out of the corner of my eye. I thought nothing of her standing there when I opened the door and stuffed the books I needed to bring home in my backpack.

But when I snapped the lock shut, she was still there. She had an earnest look of concentration on her face that kind of unnerved me at the time, like she was trying to probe the depths of my mind. And despite her off-putting appearance, there was something vaguely familiar about her. Instead of saying excuse me, brushing by her and carrying on with my life, my curiosity got the best of me.

I turned to look at her and asked, "Hi, is there something I can help you with?"

She simply replied, "I remember you."

"Really? Because... I'm pretty sure I've never met you before." I'm still not exactly sure why I lied to her then. I may not have completely recognized her by her looks alone, but that voice... I knew it anywhere. I guess I was just being too damn proud to admit it right away.

Erin sensed I was lying... or maybe she just guessed, I'm not sure. Either way the world-weary pose she struck was unchanged. "Come on, Garrett. I know I must look a lot different now, but it's me, Erin."

"As in, Erin who used to be my best friend until she had to move away with her family? The Erin who had long blonde hair and loved to play with dolls?"

"I can't remember the last time my hair was blonde or when I last played with dolls. But yes, it's me."

"Wow." It wasn't the smoothest response in the world, but at that moment, it was all I could think of to say.

She gave me a quick motion with her head, indicating she wanted me to walk with her and keep her company. I took only a few steps before Billy Jordan, a junior like me but already the football team's two-year starting middle linebacker (at the time I had to settle for being the number two wide receiver), passed by. The permanent smirk he wore on his face widened, and he called out, "Hey Garrett, who's the freak?"

Before I could respond, he laughed and kept walking. Erin had stopped, and her expression became even darker. "That one of your friends?" she asked, the wounds from Billy's words evident in her voice.

"He's just an acquaintance, Erin. He's on the football team with me..."

She rolled her eyes. "So you're one of 'those' now, huh?"

"What? Hey, wait, let me explain..."

"Don't bother, Garrett. I guess I'm not the only one that's changed. I'll see you around."

With that, Erin fled the scene. I was upset that I didn't get a proper chance to defend myself, but what bothered me more was her cynical attitude. It pained me to see her that way. It was worlds away from the Erin I used to know. I sighed, figuring that was the last straw. My childhood girlfriend would never again be a regular part of my life, and that was that.

Except it wasn't.

Turns out this version of Erin had a special skill for surprising me. The very next day at the end of classes she was standing at my locker again and apologized to me for running off so hastily the day before. I smiled and forgave her, though it did little to outwardly improve her mood. There was no one to interrupt us this day, so we walked together, leaving the school and eventually wandering around a park in the centre of downtown. The walk was conducted mostly in silence, the couple attempts I made to start conversation failing miserably. I guessed she wasn't much for small talk anymore. Still, it felt good to be near her again. I snuck a few peeks at her and never noticed her looking back at me, so I couldn't read her expression and could only hope she felt the same way.

I had a million questions I wanted to ask and was about to go with one when she abruptly stopped walking. I halted myself and followed her eyes. A tall, thin male was purposefully striding towards us. He wore dark sunglasses, black Doc Marten boots and a long dark trench coat. When he reached us I could see that he looked about our age. I guessed he was a fellow student, though at that exact time, even if under oath, I would not have been able to identify or remember him. He slipped an arm around Erin's waist, which caused a sudden, inexplicable stab of jealousy in my heart.

"Hey Erin," he said. "I wondered where you were, we were all waiting for you at the coffee shop."

"Sorry Jackson. I lost track of time," she replied.

Jackson nodded his head towards me. "Is this pretty boy giving you any trouble?" I frowned but didn't say anything. But I was more than a little pleased when Erin snapped at him.

"He has a name, you know! He's Garrett. And he's harmless, by the way. I know him from before." She looked at me then, and I thought I caught just the smallest hint of a smile curling from her lips. "We were friends as young kids."

Jackson frowned at me before turning his attention back to Erin. "Well, you'll excuse me if I wait to judge for myself just how 'harmless' he is. Can we go now?"

"Give me a minute," she answered.

He looked irritated but he did at least step back a few paces to give Erin and I a modicum of privacy. I didn't like the mistrustful look that he had but I held my tongue.

In a soft whisper that I almost didn't hear, she said, "Garrett, we need to talk, just the two of us."

"Yes, I want that as well. I have so many questions, you know."

"I know. "

Erin and I exchanged cellphone numbers and said our goodbyes. I watched her walk away with Jackson, he tried to put his arm around her again but she brushed him aside. It wasn't a completely unfriendly gesture, but it still made me smile to see how easily and casually she resisted him. Still, as I watched her walk away in her extravagantly puffed out black skirt, I couldn't help but wonder who this version of Erin was, and what had she done to the sunny little blonde I knew so well from my childhood days.

She called me later that night, and we agreed to meet on Saturday, at a coffee shop that she said she often frequented with her friends; presumably it was the same one she and Jackson went to earlier in the week. When I arrived I saw her sitting at one of the tables, looking lonely and impossibly small. My stomach churned. I was nervous about what we would talk about, and I was still confused and distressed over her radical change in personality. I didn't know how this could possibly be the same person I knew all those years ago.

I called out to her to announce my presence and sat across from her. She was silent at first, only stirring some sugar into her coffee. The look on her face suggested she was trying to figure out where to start, and was struggling mightily with that decision.

When she finally did decide on her conversation-opener, she dropped a bomb on me.

"Garrett? Do you think I'm a freak?"

It felt like all the air was sucked right out of me. After a moment I tried lightening the mood with humour.

"Hey, Erin, whatever happened to 'Hi, how are ya?'"

Her expression didn't change. Her stare burned a hole through my forehead.

So much for that approach.

I tried to re-compose myself and just said what was on my mind. "Erin, I would never go so far as to call you a freak. But I am very confused and very concerned about you. You seem so depressed all the time. You left a few years ago as a blonde happy-go-lucky young girl, and you've returned as... well, other than being totally dressed in black, I'm not sure what you are now. Please don't be too upset with me, but I have to ask, as a friend... what the hell happened to you?"

She reflected on my rambling speech for several moments, though it seemed like hours had passed. She started and stopped a few times. I was dying for her to just spit it out but I didn't want to push her. Finally she gave in to her frustrations and pounded on the table with a small clenched fist.

"I'm sorry Garrett," she said in a pained, quiet voice. "I just can't do it. I thought I was ready to tell you what happened, to tell you everything, but I just can't. It still hurts too much."

I swallowed back my disappointment and gnawing curiosity. "OK, Erin. It's OK. I don't want to force you to do anything you're not ready for."

She unclenched her fist and took hold of my hand. The touch was very unexpected. Those huge, expressive blue eyes focused on mine as she spoke. "I need you to promise me something, though. It's really important to me."

"What is it?"

"I want to be friends with you again. But I'm not the same person I was as a little girl. All this... my appearance, my attitude and outlook on life, the world, everything... this is who I am now. One day, I hope I'll have the strength to tell you everything, but right now I need you to accept me as I am. And I need you to accept my friends. Treat us as real people and accept us for who we are. Please."

I made sure my gaze on her didn't waver when I answered. "I can only promise I will do my best. I hope that is enough. It may take some time, because everything about you is just so different from what I remember. I hope you can be patient with me. I'm sure I will make mistakes and say dumb things, not because I want to hurt you but because I don't know any better. And I know it's easy for me to say it, but please give me the chance to prove myself. You have my word that I will respect who you are, I promise. And that goes for your friends too, even if that guy from a couple days ago..."

"Yeah, him... even if he seems to have it out for me already."

"He'll be fine. I'll try to make sure he goes easy on you. And for you, I'll be patient. Even if your friends look down on me like that thug did the other day."

"Don't even worry about him, Erin. He's certainly not my friend."

She considered this, and nodded. "OK. If you say so, then I trust you."

So began the second phase of our friendship.

This phase wasn't natural, free and easy like it was when we were little kids. This was work. Work and effort and misunderstandings and the odd argument thrown in for good measure.

My initiation into Erin's new life included meeting her friends. There was Melanie, or Mel for short. But she certainly wasn't short... easily six feet tall and built, as my grandfather used to so eloquently say, like a brick shithouse. She certainly intimidated nearly all the girls in school, and probably half the guys too, come to think of it. The other girl in Erin's closest circle of goth friends was Scarlett. Whether that was a nickname given to her because of her fondness for dying her hair a shockingly bright red, or whether it was her real name... to this day I'm not sure which is the case.

As for the guys in the group, besides Jackson, there was Alejandro, or Al; his family had moved here from the Dominican Republic when he was ten. Amazingly enough, by the time I met him he spoke perfect English with only a hint of a Spanish accent. Last but not least were Kory and Kris, and yes, with names like that, they could only be twin brothers. Seeing someone dressed in goth gear when you're not accustomed to it can be strange enough; my initial reaction at seeing the twin brothers dressed like that was that it was downright fucking creepy.

It took some time for me to warm up to Erin's friends, and vice-versa. They weren't bad kids but were naturally mistrustful of anyone outside their circle, because many of those people rarely tried to understand them and instead went for the cheap jokes and insults. A lot of time in my first encounters with them was spent staring at the ceiling or the floor, with absolutely nothing to say.

And, of course, there was Jackson. He seemed especially hostile towards me in a passive-aggressive way. Nothing I ever did, whether for myself, Erin or someone else, ever seemed to be good enough in his opinion. He had no shortage of smart remarks and too often I was on the receiving end of his sharp tongue. His favourite term for me was 'pretty boy', and oh how I loathed him when he insulted me like that. I can't count how many times I wanted to kick his skinny ass, but because of Erin I resisted that particular temptation.

I introduced Erin to my friends in order to return the favour as she had done for me. Like my early experiences with hers, the results were mixed. My best friends were all on the football team. There were my fellow wide receivers, Torrey, Brandon and Ricky, and Jamie, the starting running back. He was the self-appointed ringleader of our crew, and for me at least, the best friend a guy could have.

Unfortunately, Erin was left with a terrible first impression of the guys when I introduced her to the group. Ricky, a really good guy but prone to occasionally making boneheaded comments, said something dumb about "goth kids"; I can't even remember what it was. In any case it was bad enough for Erin to tear him a new one and leave in a huff. I apologized on his behalf a number of times before she agreed to finally talk to him again; she was very reluctant to let it go. I guess I underestimated just how difficult it was for her to trust people she didn't know and how proudly she would fight and defend her and her friends' goth identities and lifestyle choices.

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tagSci-Fi & FantasyGrimoire Ch. 04

Grimoire Ch. 04

Detective Morris waited anxiously outside the building. Things were really getting bad, she thought. Earlier this morning, she was a law-abiding citizen; now, she was impatiently pacing a square of fractured concrete, playing lookout to a man that could possibly become a murderer and was, at this moment, breaking and entering into a small shop called Mazo's Oddities. After leaving the library, he had insisted on coming here, telling the detective that an important item he required was in the shop and that he could not procure it by regular means. The shop proprietor, Mazo, did not know what the item was and had vowed to never part with it because he liked its pearlescent blue color.

A loud noise startled her and she whirled around, gun drawn to see Lively crouching underneath the fire escape's ladder, a burlap bag in his hand. "Sorry."

Morris reholstered her sidearm, relaxing a bit. "Is that it?"

"And that's what you need to kill her?"

"Yes. This is all I need. Now we need to find her."

"Listen, are you hungry? I'm starving and I don't think I can last much longer if I don't get something in my stomach."

"Okay, but we need to make it fast."

* * * * *

The Great One stretched her long, luscious body and blinked her deep blue eyes. She had fed; the evidence of her feeding, three husks of leathery flesh that used to be a woman and two men, lay at the foot of the bed. But she was still hungry and she knew that this hunger would not be slaked from mere mortals alone. It would keep the edge at bay but it would not satisfy. Not like partaking from him. She needed to find the Legacy and she needed to find him soon. She knew her body and the quickening pangs that ran through her told her that the Time was nearing.

She smiled, thinking of the glorious rapture that awaited her in his arms. Her long fingers roamed across her body as she closed her eyes, dreaming about their union, dreaming about his touch. He would do as she was doing, taking his time and rubbing her soft, brown skin and memorizing every inch of her. Her nipples hardened under her fingertips, the nubs begging to be pinched and bitten. He would do that. He would do anything that she asked. The fever rose in her, hot and unrelenting and she needed relief. She reached out across the veil to him ...

The sound that came from Lively was so wretched that Detective Morris nearly ran off the road. His eyes were closed and his body was as tense as a rail, his forehead dusted with sweat. "What's wrong?"

"Pull over."

"Pull over. Right now!"

Morris found a place to pull over and watched in confusion as he leaped out and ran down the alley. "Jason! Wait!"

"Yes." She purred, sensing the passion rising in him. She rubbed her nipples a little harder, sending tingles of pain through her torso and she moaned, her toes curling. The pain was so good. It would be better inflicted by him, though. She cupped one of her large breasts and brought it up to her mouth, letting her snakelike tongue wrap around the nub before she applied her teeth to the sensitive skin.

"Ugh!" He roared, his body trembling with the effort it took to resist her pull. He could hear the detective somewhere behind him and he needed to get farther away. He didn't want her to see ...

The Great One pushed the robe off, dropping it onto the floor and caressed the silky chocolate skin of her shoulders, thrusting her hands into her thick, soft hair and tracing the softness of her cheeks. She let one finger run around her plump lips, then sucked it into her mouth, imagining that it was Legacy's cock and a hum buzzed through her. She would gladly open her mouth to his cock, letting him plunge as far down her throat as he wanted and she would suck and lick him until he begged to fuck her.

"Oh, God!" He couldn't stand it any longer. Lively pressed himself against the wall of the alley, not caring if anyone was watching. The images she was sending were too strong and he could no longer control his body's reaction. Trembling uncontrollably, he fumbled with the zipper on the uniform pants, taking his cock out. He reverently stroked his meat, releasing the beast that was the Legacy and letting it roam free. "Yes ... "

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