The car was there, as always, and she was in and whisked off in an instant, her pussy palpitating with anticipation, and pumping with desire.
She rode the hi-rise elevator, wondering why it had to take so long to get to his apartment.
When it did, she dashed off down the hall, and of course the door opened without her knocking.
The redhead was waiting.
The woman had a spectacular outfit on; leather, from head to toe, the smooth elastic type. It was almost a body suit, except that it ended just below her lovely large tits, helping to jut them out.
Her legs were sheathed in tall leather boots, and the entire outfit was framed with chains and studs.
She didn't say anything besides the necessary, 'lake off all your clothes. Everything. Gaiter belts, stockings, all of it. We want you thoroughly naked, young lady."
It was the kind of command that sent chills down her spine.
Why would they want her so naked?
The anxiety of anticipation showed on her face as she was forced to strip in front of the nameless redhead.
The woman crossed her arms, with an angry, strong look on her face as Paula removed first her white shirt, then the bra, reaching up in front and removing the garment by releasing the single-clasp release....
CHAPTER ONE
Nothing exciting ever happens to me, Paula told herself as she fought off the vague twinges shootings between her luscious, smooth and glistening teenage thighs.
It was another of those dull school days, the same school now for four years, and finally, was about to graduate.
And when she did, she had plans....
Plans to make that little snatch of hers a happy one.
And she knew just how to. She'd heard all about the big city, how it was supposed to be the realization of all your fantasies.
How the bright lights and the late nights were supposed to make your life seem like one long, uninterrupted soap opera.
How the men of your dreams were supposed to come and sweep you off your feat.
How you were supposed to fall in love with love itself, and be romanced to the Nth degree.
God, it could make her pussy wet just thinking about it.
How soon she would up and move from this hick town to New York, get an apartment on the upper east side, and find a job in advertising.
And fuck her brains out!
She knew these men had to be different than the men at school, the teachers with their pot-bellies, balding, married and morose, with no sex life at all!
None of them were even remotely attractive, as far as Paula could tell.
They'd been put into a pink Mush by the nature of their jobs.
Their favorite drink was Milk of magnesia, and their idea of a good time was failing asleep in front of the television seven nights a week.
Where was the excitement? Where was the romance? Where was the sex?
Sex. That was it! That had to be it!
After all, Paula was already seventeen, and thought she knew it all! She had the kind of looks that the people who sell milk wish they had on the sides of their containers.
She was blond, with gorgeous, New England features, small upturned nose, fabulous long farm girl legs, lovely healthy tits that stood up and longed to be, uh, counted, and an ass that could have served as the Lord's inspiration for creating the pear.
And she was hot.
That she'd always known.
She'd been fucking since she was twelve years old, since she'd taken her then boyfriend, Zack, into the bam and made him take off his clothes and show her his "thing," as Zack called it; an experience that culminated in her fucking poor Zack to tears.
Zack and Paula drifted after that.
For some reason, he was never the same; never the "old" Zack. He couldn't even look at her in the hallways.
Maybe she'd fucked him into some kind of guilt stupor.
Whatever the reason, Zack was only the first of a long list of men and boys she'd fucked, all throughout high school.
There was always somebody, it seemed, who was willing to fuck with her.
Always someone who wanted to see if they could pull the trick, pull out the sword Excalibur from her petrified rock of a countenance.
You see, Paula was filled to the brim with a saucy sexuality.
Only trouble was, she'd never really gotten off. It was as if the boys she chose were just too much. Meaning, not enough.
They didn't know how to push her buttons. Not all the way. They didn't know how to get her off.
Which can be awfully frustrating to a looker like Paula.
It's like advertising your best wares in the front window, and having to turn away the crowds that come to buy because you're all out of the merchandise!
So it was, on this warm Friday evening, when most of the kids were home and getting ready for their dates, she found herself stuck on the small road that led to her parents house.
She was angry at this stupid car of hers, the way it never seemed to work the way they did in the movies; perfectly. She was hungry ... it was Friday night, time to leave the schoolbooks behind for a couple of days.
She decided to take herself out for an early drink. It wasn't a very hard decision, there was a small bar just a little bit of the way up. She was easily able to pass in most bars, even though she was still technically under age. Just one of the perks of being hot!
She didn't really have much of a plan for the rest of that night. Not yet, anyway, so a cocktail at the corner bar, a singles dive called, appropriately enough, "Singles," one of the numerous dives that catered to the young and lonely and the lovely, not necessarily in that order.
After that a magazine or two, some Chinese food taken home in a container, and maybe even a rented video cassette.
One of the good ones if she could persuade that cute guy at the counter to let her have one.
That shouldn't be a problem either.
So how could she possibly know that this night would be the one that would change her life forever, that would at last release the tiger of passions that she held in check within her emotional cage?
It all started innocently enough, as she slithered onto a bar stool.
It was early, before six, and the after-work crowd was still on it's way over.
The older women would be busy putting on their man-catching make-up, while the men would be covering their bald spots and sucking in their guts trying to squeeze into their new designer jeans.
It was all so ... so adolescent to Paula.
Where were the real men, the one's she read about in all those magazines?
Not here, she told herself, that was pretty evident.
So she didn't bother to pay too much attention to the man who sat down next to her. Not at first, anyway.
Sure, he was tall, and she liked tall men, but so what?
There were a million tall men in this town.
And he was dark-haired, which she also liked.
Dark hair was animal, she thought.
And he was lean and hard looking, at least from what she could tell from the cut of his suit, which was maybe quite a lot.
Okay there, also.
And what else.
He was clean-looking, not a small premium in The apple, and he had a terrific smile.
Maybe there was something happening here.
She twisted around in her seat a little to let him know that she was interested.
She was an expert in body language.
She crossed her legs and flashed a two thousand dollar straightened smile at him.
He pretended not to notice at first, and that was cool, Paula thought to herself.
So what else is new.
It was a relief not to have them salivating all over you at the flash of a good looking leg, or maybe the first inch or so of thigh.
That's the way it usually went.
"Martini, twist, rocks," The man said.
Paula liked the timbre of his voice. Deep, assured, strong.
Then, without looking, he waved toward her.
'And another one for the lady."
Well. She liked that. He hadn't asked if he could buy her another drink, he just assumed that he could. He didn't question for a second that she might be ... too young!
He definitely got points for that.
"Well, may I know the name of the man who wishes to ply me with alcohol?"
He smiled, flashing a pretty good set of choppers himself.
"You may. Roland. Roland Hicks. And you?"
"Paula. Paula...."
"First names are fine, as far as I'm concerned. Come here often?"
"Well, off and on. How about yourself?"
"Whenever I'm looking for someone."
"Looking for someone? Who?"
"Well, in this case, you."
He didn't say anything, but continued to look at Paula.
Hard, firm, without breaking away. "Me? Whatever for?"
"Well, to tell you the truth, you look like the kind of woman who ... needs a release. Are you looking to be released?"
"What?"
Paula couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wanted to turn away and maybe even leave the bar.
She'd heard about men like this. Her mother was always warning her there were men out there who were a little too bold for their own good.
For her own good.
Part of her wanted to turn and run and get into her car and get right home to mommy, yet she couldn't take herself off the stool.
There was something holding her there, some inner spark that had dropped into her emotional pile of leaves.
She was beginning to smoke a little, and already she knew it was only a matter of time before she flamed on.
The blush of her cheeks answered his question. Their drinks came.
He downed his one shot, and watched and Paula sipped at hers.
"All right," he said. "Why don't we leave here. I've got a place only a couple of blocks down that I'd love to show you."
A place? Not a home? Not an apartment? What was a place, Paula wondered.
Everything inside of her, every fibre of her soul told her that she shouldn't be doing this, that she should instead be going over to the Wiki Wok takeout place and renting a video cassette, but instead she followed his lead, downed her drink and the next thing she knew she was in a cab with this stranger ... Roland Hicks he called himself, and not thirty minutes after they'd first met, she was in his ... place.
"Nice ... place you have here," she said as they stepped in to the apartment.
She had to admit it was more than she'd expected. They were on the twenty-eighth floor of a luxury apartment house, overlooking the River.
Very fancy.
She'd never been in anything like this before! It was the kind of place she only saw on ... Dynasty!
There was a balcony on the outside of the living room, and many huge rooms.
She guessed three bedrooms.
What would a man like this be doing with so large a ... place.
Roland Hicks was a man of mystery, and she liked that.
He was obviously not your usual run-of-the-mill type.
So he had possibilities.
What type of possibilities she had no idea.
But she'd find out soon enough.
"Drink," he said, as he removed his jacket.
"All right." She sat down on the sofa, sinking into it, noticing how soft the pillows were, making her ass disappear, and keeping her knees higher than her stomach.
It was a very comfortable, if vulnerable setting.
Roland handed her her drink, and she sipped a little before setting it down.
Then he started in.
He sat down next to her, put his fingers underneath her chin and slowly turned her head toward him.
Awfully forward of Roland, she thought to herself, although she wasn't particularly put off by his forwardness.
She liked it.
Whether it was her innate sexual frustrations, or the two martinis, she wasn't sure, but when he brought his lips to hers, she felt good about giving herself this easily.
He was going to fuck her this night, she knew that now, and she was' somehow grateful.
She needed a good fuck.
So she didn't object when she felt his hand start to go up her left leg.
Even if she wanted to stop him she wasn't sure she'd be able to.
After all, in the position she was in, in this crazy sofa, she didn't have much leverage to move. She giggled.
He could really take advantage of her in this type of sofa.
Which, of course, was just what he had in mind. "Honey," he said to her. "I just want you to relax and let yourself go. Can you do that?"
"Sure," she heard herself saying. How much more relaxed could she possibly get?
Much more, she realized, when suddenly she felt his hand leaving her leg, and taking her left arm, and stretching out the length of the sofa.
"Roland...." she said. "What are you...."
He put his fingers to his mouth, as if to say, shh, don't ask any questions.
Then, from behind the cushion of the sofa, from where he was sitting, he suddenly pulled out a red silk cord, very smooth and very cool to the touch. She looked at it and a moment of panic ran through her.
She didn't know this man at all. He could be a homicidal maniac for all she could tell.
Maybe she should get the hell out of there.
But she found it was almost impossible to get off this sofa without help.
It was constructed a little more carefully than she'd figured.
It was designed to keep a person sitting until they were helped off of it.
She didn't say anything, but watched, helpless as Roland applied the red cord to her wrist.
"Is that too tight?" he asked, and when she shook her head no he made it tighter.
That surprised Paula.
She didn't know what to expect now, but she couldn't deny that she was turned on by all this.
And more so, when he got up, effortlessly, from that side of the sofa and applied another previously hidden cord to her right wrist.
Now, she was trapped on the sofa with her arms spread out on either side of her.
The first thing she noticed it did to her was to make her breasts stand out even further than they ordinarily did.
Now she wished she hadn't worn a bra that day, for the restricting binding of it was making her most uncomfortable.
She didn't dwell on that thought for long.
For in the next instant, Roland was unbuttoning her blouse.
"Hey, wait...." Paula said, but Roland continued to undo the buttons.
"I wouldn't try to resist, Paula," he said, in that strong, assured voice of his.
"I don't want you to have anything but the most pleasant, sensual experience. Don't you feel good? Don't you feel ... warm all over?"
The drink? She knew now why she was so calm in the face of what was happening to her.
He'd put something in her drink.
She'd heard of those mixtures, those powders out of Africa that made women do things ... strange things they rather not even think about in their wildest dreams.
Make that nightmares!
"Roland, please ... what are you doing?"
"I'm taking off your blouse, Paula. Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you."
The thought had crossed her mind.
She watched, though, fascinated now as his expert fingers undid the last of her white man-tailored shirt, and easily pulled it out of her skirt.
With one swift movement he spread it over her shoulders, so her bare stomach and shoulders were exposed.
"Beautiful," he mumbled, as he put his hands on the swell of her tits.
It caused Paula to jump.
Her eyes widened, and she wanted to cry out, but somehow she couldn't deny how good it felt to have him take firm hold of her private charms, and to fondle her tits.
His eyes burned into hers, and she couldn't pull herself away from his, watching the heat and the flame of his desires start to stoke her own flames.
In spite of everything, her being tied up and about to ravished, she feared, on his sofa, she opened her mouth a little, and let out a short, hot, sigh.
"Aaahhh...." she said, as her tongue came out to flick across her lips.-
"Do you like it?" Roland asked, knowing what the answer would be, what the answer had to be.
"Yy ... yesss...." she hissed as his expert hands continued to work on her.
He studied her face, the mushroom blush that continued to come in waves, deepening her color, making her more crimson with each squeeze on her luscious mammaries.
Then, without warning, he reached behind her, and as he heard her wince in woeful anticipation, undid the latch that held her bra in place.
"Don't...." she said softly, but she knew she was falling on deaf ears.
"Yes," Roland said softly as he slowly pulled the bra away from her tits and exposed her bare jewels to his gaze.
She put her head back and sucked on her lower lip.
She was half naked now, and small beads of sweat were starting to appear on her upper brow.
She tried to close her eyes but they wouldn't stay shut.
She had to open them, had to watch his face as he worked on her.
So she opened her eyes and watched, fascinated, as his expert fingers began to work on her in earnest.
He knew just how to squeeze them, and to pay special attention to her nipples.
He worked on them, drawing small circles all around the dark pink aureolae, without ever touching the nipples themselves, until she thought he was going to drive her out of her mind.
"For God's sake," she said, in a hoarse voice, "touch them...."
He smiled. He enjoyed hearing her beg.
But he had other ideas in mind. He reached down to the floor, and pulled a black box from underneath it.
Paula couldn't see what was in it, but she knew that whatever it was, it was going to be part of this strange and incredible experience.
"What are you going to...." she started to say, but her voice trailed off to a gasp when she saw when he was holding up in front of her face.
It was a pair of clamps.
She wasn't sure what type they were, but they were small, brass, with little hooks on the bottom. What could they possibly be for, she wondered. She soon found out.
Taking her left breast, still with the nipple untouched, the nipple standing now at a straining attention, begging to be touched and sucked, and put the two flat ends of the clamp around it.
"Ooohhh...." Paula sighed as she felt the smooth brass metal of the inside of the clamp just ever so lightly grazing the sides of her nipples.
Then he began to tighten it.
Slowly, with sure turns that brought the brass closer and closer, until had her nipple in a firm grip, and began to tighten around it.
"Oooh...." Paula sighed. "Please, don't...." she said, but Roland was having none of that. Instead, he twisted it, maybe one or two turns too much, Paula thought, for now, her nipple almost began to hurt from the pinching it was getting.
When he was satisfied that it was secure, he repeated the action on the right tit, putting the clamp to it and tightening it so that in a matter of minutes, he had both tits clamped, with the nipples now forced out farther than they'd ever been before.
Paula would have really been frightened now if she were in her own head, but the combination of the drink that he'd given her, plus the fact that she couldn't deny she was turned on by the slavish devotion he'd paid to her breasts had turned her several degrees hotter.
The blush that had started on her face had now spread down her chest, and she knew she looked as red to him as if she'd been in the Florida sun all day.
What else? What else could he possibly do to her now?
She was hoping it was something good.
She couldn't deny that deep inside of her, where her most private parts were, there was a damp, heated aching.
She was longing to get fucked, to get the worked up desire she had satisfied.
Her pussy was pounding.
But Roland had other things in mind first.
He was enjoying this entirely too much to rush things.
He wanted to bring her all the way off, to make her come over and over and over again before he rewarded her with the prize of his infamous dick.
"How does that fee) now," he asked her, smiling, with a cruel twist to his mouth that, she had to admit, only made him look more handsome.
"Good...." she said, softly, partly embarrassed at having gotten herself into this position, and partly pleased that she was being attended to with such obvious expert devotion.
"That's very good, Paula. So far you have been a perfect little girl."
His words excited her.
She didn't know what he was talking about it, but she liked the idea.
Images flashed through her head of ancient times, of Babylonian women forced to perform bizarre sexual acts, the kind not seen anywhere, except on Times Square, for thousands of years.
If she was going to be his slave, all right then, she'd be his perfect slave. This was so much better than high school petting!
She must be what her mother always warned her about!
A slut!
A real after-school slut!
Her pussy was absolutely soaked by now!
How much of this silliness did he really think he needed to do before she let him fuck her?
Of course, she was so far off base she didn't even know it.
She had to remember, and would before the night was over. He was the one who was going to do the sexual rewarding, not her.
She'd learn all right.
She'd learn very well.
And the next lesson was coming up immediately, as Roland reached back down into his black bag of tricks.
CHAPTER TWO
Roland poured each of them a drink.
Kitty knew enough to realize that it wasn't after practice cheerleader Kool-Aid he was offering to her.
She shook her head no, but he wasn't paying any attention to that.
Instead, he put his hand gently on the back of her head, and in the position she was in she was not about to be able to tell him no, or to stop him.
So this was what it meant to be someone's slut, she thought through the haze of her sexual heat. And she liked it!
Her arms were still effectively stretched out on either side of the sofa, and with her bra opened and pushed down below her tits, she was quite vulnerable.
Yeah!
The clamps which he'd applied to her nipples had been most effective.
They succeeded in numbing the very tips of them, while causing her tits to become novas of sensation.
Every last breeze in the room, every graze of his hands even near her tits made her jump with a particular type of ecstasy she'd never known before.
And for this she was most grateful.
But she didn't want to drink anymore of this stuff he'd slipped to her before.
It made her into a real slut all right.
She was a free, independent, sexual creature at last, freed forever from the restrictive bonds of high school petting!
She was in a real man's private penthouse, and trussed her up neatly and quickly to his sofa.
She wasn't quite sure of anything, except that she was helpless, and this man who called himself Roland was forcing her to drink another martini, laced, no doubt, with the powerful aphrodisiac that would make her do all kinds of things she had never imagined herself capable of.
She parted her lips and drank, obediently, as he made her empty every last drop.
Satisfied, he took a napkin out of his pocket and gently dabbed at her mouth.
He didn't want her to be sloppy, after all. Cleanliness was next to Godliness ... her mother always taught her that.
"Will you let me up,-now, please," she said softly, and as if to reply, he only smiled and reached down again into the black bag.
This action sent al shiver down Paula's spine. What could he possibly to do her now?
She got her answer immediately.
Roland raised up in front of her eyes, as if to examine his material, and also to torture Paula by letting her see what she was in store for, a set of weights, sinkers she used to call them when she'd go fishing with her dad in the stream behind their home.
They were used to keep the hook and bait below the water.
Their main function was that of being heavyweights.
She swallowed hard, and furiously blushed.
What was he going to do with those?
"Just relax," Roland said. "You really have no choice anyway, darling."
She liked when he called her that. It was so ... adult!
She didn't like what he did with the weights.
He was careful in his work.
Meticulous.
He raised the first grey pear-shaped weight, which was no more than an inch long, and took the little hook at the top, and attached it to the lip of the clamp.
The effect was immediate.
Paula yelped at the pain, as the weight pulled her tit down by the nipple.
"Don't...." she begged, but as if in response to her complaint, he attached yet another one to her nipple, so now the tearing, searing pain was redoubled, and her tit was being pulled down, nearly halfway the length of her stomach.
Paula didn't like this.
She had beautiful, naturally high breasts that never fell, never hung down like the sacks of potatoes the other women in her office carried around.
She was proud of the way they stood up tall and erect.
Now, they were being worked on by an expert, she knew.
She was being forced to have her body manipulated to the delight and whim of this cruel, yet in a strange manner, loving man.
He went to work on the other.
"Oh, God ... please, don't do that ... it hurts...." she sobbed. "It hurts."
It was the first sign of tears. Roland looked at her and smiled.
He'd hung out her tits in a most professional manner, and he was proud to see that he'd produced tears already, and the night was still so young.
"I know it hurts a little, but it's so beautiful," Roland said.
He got up and left the room, only to return in a few moments, with a Polaroid camera in his hand.
"What are you doing with that?" Paula asked, her eyes widening with fright?
"I'm going to immortalize you, darling," he said, and with that he began to take snaps of her, having them shoot out of the camera as he did so.
"No ... no...." she moaned, not wanting herself photographed like this, but of course, she was no more effective as stopping him now than she'd been at any earlier time in the day. What had she gotten herself into, she wondered, as the camera relentlessly continued to click away, capturing her every grimace, putting her face plainly in the view of the camera.
What if the other kids at school ever saw these pictures of her?
What if her mother did?
Oh, the very thought made her twist and turn in her bonds....
To no avail, of course.
He took dozens of revealing shots of her.
Dozens.
When he was finished, he took the stack of snapshots, and studied them, before making her look at every one.
She had to admit, although she would never say so, that she loved the fact be had degraded her so deliciously, and taken pictures of her.
Now she was truly his after-school slut.
If she didn't do exactly what he wanted, who knew where these photos might turn up.
Her head hung down in defeat on her chest.
It picked up again when, after going inside to put his camera away, he returned for another step into his pleasure of Paula.
"I have to change my clothes," he said, and stepping around just behind the sofa, to a place where Paula wouldn't be able to see him, he began to remove his clothing, so that he was down to his underwear, an interesting pair of black jockey shorts.
They were unique for a very special reason: they were made entirely of leather.
Paula gasped an audible breath when she turned her head as Roland came around the corner.
She couldn't take her eyes off his leather underwear, or the bulge that was so obvious to her now.
My God, she thought, he must have a cock the size of a sausage. A twelve inch sausage.
She wondered how long it would be before he'd use it on her.
Roland then knelt before her, his hands going straight for her breasts, caressing them, stroking them, holding them warmly in his hands.
"Darling," he said to her. "I'm going to make you feel so good. You'll see...." he said, letting his voice trail off.
With that, he put his hands oh her skirt and slowly began to inch it up.
Little by little, as Paula, breathless now with excitement, made no move to try and stop him. She was helpless to struggle, even as he revealed the top of her naked thighs, even as he pushed higher until her skirt was barely covering her most private part; her now soaking wet pussy.
"Lovely," Roland murmured, as he expertly put his hands on the insides of her thighs, and with a gentle motion, parted them, causing her skirt to rise up even higher, exposing her thick blonde bush of pubic hair, and just below, her delicious, pouting pussy.
"That's lovely," Roland repeated again, as he stared between Paula's open legs.
Next, he took one of her ankles and held it tightly while he slipped off her shoes.
Paula wondered why she hadn't worn underwear that wasn't crotchless, like the pair she had on now.
Thank God she wasn't wearing her garter belt, as she did so often when she felt just a little bit naughty.
She had great legs, she knew that, and she liked to go as bear as she could under her clothes.
It turned her on when the men at the office stared at her.
She knew she had them just where she wanted them.
And now, ironically, this man, Roland, had her just where he wanted her.
Her naked leg was made to go as far to the side as Roland could get it.
Then, when it was up on the sofa, stretched out, he produced another of the hidden lengths of red cord and quickly wound it around her leg. In another moment, he had her left leg securely spread and bound in this fashion.
Then he went to work on her right one.
When he was finished, she was spread eagled, now, on the sofa, helpless and semi-nude before him, her private parts expertly exposed to his hands and gaze.
He was certainly an expert, she could see.
He knew what he was doing with her.
Now, he put his hands on her skirt, which made her jump, and zipping down the little zipper on the side, he shoved the rest of it up high, so it was bunched up around her waist, exposing her bare hips and crotchless panties, and most explicitly, her wide open inner thighs and pussy.
Roland smiled and took one finger and holding Paula's face, made her suck on it.
He stuck it in her mouth, after carefully warning her not to bite on it, or else he would make her regret that move.
She wasn't about to disobey him.
Instead, she was grateful for the opportunity to actively please him.
She took his finger and opening her lips, felt the hard digit enter between her teem. She let her tongue work on it, rolling it all around in her mouth, sucking on it and getting it soaked with her saliva.
Which was just what he'd had in mind.
When his finger was good and wet, he withdrew it from her lips and, slowly let it come down to her tits.
Still wet, he pushed it against one of her trapped tits.
The effect was electric.
Paula jumped several inches, as if she'd been given a sharp jolt of voltage.
"Jesus!" she cried out as she felt the warm wetness of her own spit on the tip of his finger.
He did the same to her other nipple, causing both of them to stand erect, like jackrabbits.
Now he put his finger back in her mouth, and this tune she sucked on it eagerly, making loud smacking noises with her mouth as she did so.
She loved it now, and when she closed her eyes she could pretend it was his cock she was working on.
He took her finger out of her mouth and this time, using his other band to rest on the inside of her hot thighs, he gently prodded the lips of her pussy.
He let his finger run the length of it, from the tip where the clitoris was no out of it's hiding place and pouting for attention, to the bottom, just a little step away from her asshole.
He teased her this way for several minutes, as he applied the light strokes to the very edge of her pussy.
Soon, the desired effect was his, as he recognized from the palpitating of her hips that she was starting to strain under his teasing.
Then he stopped.
"No," she cried out. "Don't ... stop...." she said, realizing as she heard herself she was actually begging him for more.
He reached underneath once more, this time producing a smooth, velvet pillow.
He then brought his forearm up against the backs of her naked thighs, which were exposed to him in the position he had her tied, and, with one forward motion was able to lift her bottom off the sofa.
Once he'd done this, it was a simple feat to slide the pillow under her ass.
When he let her thighs go, the effect was magical. The elevation of the pillow made her pussy open up and stretch out from side to side, so that now it was gaping, and her inner pink lips plainly exposed. The extra space had also increased the pressure on her ankles, which felt the strain of the bonds.
"Lovely," Roland said, this time getting on his knees and letting Paula see him lick his lips.
She was going to get it now, she knew, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.
The only movement she could make was the thrusting of her hips.
How cleverly he had trussed her, she thought. How wonderfully he had put her into this physical suspension.
She was growing quite fond of Roland, She was about to grow quite fonder.
Roland, putting his head between her legs, began to lick at the creamy insides of her gorgeous, smooth white thighs.
"Ooohhh...." Paula sighed as she felt his hot tongue explore every inch of her peachy skin.
He worked in short, rough strokes, until, inch by inch, he'd worked himself to the inevitable point of her sexuality.
With one hand he parted the luscious lips of her sweet pussy, and with all the skill of an expert muff diver, shoved his tongue far up into her hot glistening box and began to suck her out.
"Ooohh ... that's so ... that's so. good. Paula cooed, as she twisted within her restraints, and moved her hips, the only part of her body she could freely move, up into his mouth. He put his hands on the sides of her hips, just where her crotchless panties were, and held her firmly so she was unable to move even that part of her, and continued her tongue work.
"Jesus...." she moaned. "I'm going to ... I'm going to...."
Both Roland and Paula knew what she was trying to say.
She was going to come.
That's what it was that was stuck in her throat.
Roland could feel the involuntary twitching of her cunt muscles, and just before she hit the spot where she wouldn't be able to stop, Roland pulled his mouth off of her.
"NO ... DON'T STOP, DAMN IT...." Paula squealed, but it was no use.
He was so good at bringing her just to the brink and not letting her come. It was yet another form of control, and one that she was loving.
It was good to be brought up, to be stoked like a fire, and then allowed to come down slowly, without having the proper release.
There was something devastatingly pleasurable about it; something that she couldn't deny she loved.
What was he doing to her, how was he controlling her, how did she ever get into this situation.
More important, how did he! have the insight to know that she would be such a willing victim.
Or was it true, as she'd heard in the past, that all women were secret slaves, that they all wanted to be dominated, that they all sought the man of their dreams to be more beast-like than human, and to be able to release that wild animal of the soul that all women held in check.
Didn't women want it this way?
Didn't they wear garter belts and frilly underwear and magical perfumes and uplifting bras for the sole purpose of driving their men crazy?
Didn't they know their sexuality was a weapon, a weapon just as powerful and just as potent as the one that hung between their men's legs?
Didn't they want, more than anything else, to be ravished, in the fashion of their fantasies?
The answers, she was sure, to all these questions was a gigantic yes.
And now, finally, on a night when she'd least expected it, she was being used, being plied like a delicate instrument, for the delight and pleasure of a man she'd only known for a few hours.
And worst and best at the same time, he wasn't allowing her any real sexual release.
He was making her build it up inside of herself, making her store up the energy, so that if and when he finally decided she should be allowed to reach orgasm and come, she would explode, with all the force and fury of a nuclear woman.
She hoped he wasn't going to hurt her.
She could hardly feel her nipples anymore, they were that numb.
And she also hoped that, no matter what, he wouldn't stop working her over.
She loved it.
She loved it and couldn't get enough. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No ... Oh Jesus, no." That's good."
"Yes."
"If I stop, if you ask me to stop, I will, but then you will leave. Let me make myself very clear. If at any time you want to be set free, I will set you free.
But once that happens, I will never see you again.
You are not my first high school girl and I'm sure you won't be my last. I choose my sluts carefully, and they always pledge never to leave me. But they do. Sooner or later they meet another man, or they fall in love, or they decide to get married. It really doesn't matter to me. I have no interest in their private lives. I'm only interested in making them the best they can possibly be. Once that is accomplished, my joy is complete. And as long as they stay with me, I find new ways to bring them to the heights they have only previously dreamed about. Do you understand any of this?"
Paula licked her lips and shook her head yes.
It was abundantly clear to her now. She was a slut, a modern-day teen-age slut!
She had to admit, it beat Chinese food.
Now, he put his hands on her bush, and began to gently massage her there.
She didn't quite understand what he was doing. It felt good, she knew that, but why the massage.
Was he getting her ready to be fucked?
That wouldn't be so bad, she told herself.
But once again, she had no inkling of what he had in store for her.
Suddenly, he stood up and left the room, as he'd done before.
This gave her some time to think.
She wondered how many there had been before her, and how many times he'd had each of them.
She hoped that he wouldn't grow tired of her very soon.
She liked being his slut, she told herself. Especially when he was eating her. He had a magic tongue.
He had something else, she saw, when he came back into the room.
He had a basin of steaming water, a razor, a can of shaving cream, and a wicked smile on his face.
Oh, Jesus, Paula thought.
She was going to be shaved.
He was going to shave off her pubic hair!
"No ... please ... don't do that ... really ... I don't want to ... please...."
"Do you want me to release you?" Roland asked, a stem look on his face, a sonorous note in his voice.
Paula was upset.
She certainly didn't want to be let out of her situation, but she didn't want to be shaved either.
She knew.
She had no choice.
That's what being a real slut meant.
She had to submit to whatever degradation she was going to be exposed to.
That was the name of the game.
She hung her head down and said softly, almost too softly to be heard, mat no, she didn't want to be released.
That was all Roland had to hear.
Getting on his knees, before her exposed pussy, he dipped the towel into the water, and let it soak up.
Then, taking it out and squeezing the excess out of it, he pushed it onto her bush, made very accessible by the spread and elevation of her body.
She had to admit, and did so audibly by the cooing sound that emitted from her mouth, that she loved the warmth of the towel on her pubes and pussy, and enjoyed the way the way the water ran down, into her cunt and collected around her asshole.
She twitched involuntarily as he took the towel away and then produced a small pair of what looked to be extremely sharp shears.
Taking them in one hand he took patches of her pubic hair in the other and began to snip them off.
In even snips, within a matter of minutes, he had her clipped down to a patch of very short hairs, short enough so that she could easily be shaved, without any real problem.
He then reached for the can of shaving cream, and letting a huge ball of it come into his fingers, he deftly patted here public area all over, until every inch of it was covered with the white, foamy cream.
Next, he reached for the razor.
He took it, opened it and produced a leather strop, itself quite formidable looking, and with an expert back and forth rhythm, began to sharpen the thing in long strokes.
When he was satisfied it was as sharp as he wanted it to be, he brought it back to between her legs.
Paula held her breath.
She'd never had such a sharp instrument so close to her canny.
She knew that one wrong move, one unlicensed twitch of her hips, and it would be very dangerous indeed.
So she tried to cooperate by staying as still as she could, and holding her breath, watched, fascinated, as with long and even strokes, he began to remove the last of her lovely pubic hairs.
When he was finished with everything but the lips of her pussy, he went to work with meticulous care, opening her up and running the sharp edge of the razor along the delicate ends of her pussy mouth.
This sent her into a new level of unfound pleasure.
She couldn't believe how good the stroking felt on the edge of her pussy's skin.
It was like nothing she'd ever felt before.
"Aaahhh ... Roland ... darling ... that's so ... wonderful...." she managed to get out in short bursts of lusts.
It was the first time she'd called him by his name and she liked the way it sounded coming off her lips.
Now, as he finished up, he dipped the towel into the basin, and rinsed her off.
He then took a bottle of clear looking liquid, dabbed a cotton ball into the top and soaked it up, and then brought the cotton ball to the patch of naked skin just above her pussy.
She felt the tingling sensation of the lotion as it healed her little hurts, and she welcomed the coolness of the stimulation.
That's right," Roland said. "Enjoy it. You have no choice, you might as well enjoy it. I certainly am."
It was the first time that he'd confessed anything to her, on any topic.
She wondered if he was becoming at all attached to her, even one tenth as much as she was to him.
She wondered what was going to be next. She didn't have long to wait.
CHAPTER THREE
I'm going to eat you again. This time you'll feel a big difference." That was all that Roland said, but it was enough. Kitty realized she was in for a new kind of education, one that she would never learn in school.
And she was grateful to Roland for telling her everything he did, and explaining things to her.
She was ... God, was it possible? She was actually falling in love with him!
He lowered his mouth and started to work on Paula once more.
This time he let his tongue roam over her newly shaved area, and it nearly drove her wild.
Almost immediately she began bucking and kicking at the sensations.
She'd never felt anything like it in her life!
Over and over, the waves of pleasure went through her, filling her with the most delicious type of agony.
If only she weren't tied up, she told herself, she would have fucked this guy a million times already.
She was being driven by him, and loving every minute of it.
Now he used to fingers to open up the lips of her pussy, and both of them could clearly hear the squish of her lips as, sticky, they reluctantly parted, only to be devoured by his mouth.
He sucked on her hard and brutally, once again winding up her and bringing her to nearly the brink, only to let her go and take his mouth off her.
"NO ... OH GOD ... I CAN'T STAND THAT...." she said, as she buckled and shoved her hips up and down, no longer the least concerned about the very private and lascivious show she was being forced to perform for him.
Was there no end to his cruel lust?
He reached back into his black box and produced a small, rather sinister looking vial.
"What's that?" she asked him.
Naturally, he didn't respond to her questions.
Instead, he opened the cap of the vial, carefully, and laid it on the floor.
Then he took a long, thin spatula looking device and dipped it in.
When he removed it, it had a reddish tint to it. Paula kept her eyes glued to it, not have any idea what was about to be done to her.
He put the vial down and recapped it, holding the wetted stick in the air.
Then he let his free hand go to the inside of her thighs, letting his knuckles graze along smoothly, until he came to her pussy, but he didn't stop there.
Instead, he went down lower, lower to where her asshole, which also was fully exposed by virtue of the position she was tied to on top of the pillow, and stuck a finger just on the edge of it.
"Oh!" Paula said, jumping a bit as she felt his cool finger caressing her there.
She'd never before been touched in that magical spot by a man.
She liked the way it felt, and enjoyed the way it made her contract.
However, she had no idea what he was going to do next.
He took the spatula, and opened the crinkle of her asshole, so that it was no gaping.
"AAAHHH," Paula said, as she was now feeling more helpless than ever at his ministrations.
Carefully and deliberately, he took the spatula and put it up inside her ass!
"Jesus," Paula moaned, as she felt the thing inside of her.
That wasn't so bad, but what happened next was totally surprising.
Emanations of pleasure started to race through her bottom, like a million tiny teeth taking small nips out of her.
"What's happening ... what's ... what's it doing ... to me...."
Roland said nothing.
He was fully aware of what the girl was feeling.
The special, secret lotion was like an enervator.
It was a combination astringent and relaxant, so that, in spite of anything that she might have been feeling, her asshole was relaxing, and opening.
"That's right," Roland said, softly, as he watched her asshole expanding, enough to receive a finger from him.
Which it did.
Paula squirmed as she felt the man's finger going deep into her asshole.
She tried to squeeze her asshole around it, to somehow let him know how good it was feeling.
"Oohhh ... that's so ... that's sooo good...."
Paula said, as he worked his finger all the way up to her, until it was completely buried in her ass.
When he was securely up, he then took the spatula, and started stroking her pussy with it.
She knew what she was in for now, as the stinging, enervating feeling began to spread out on her pussy.
He was opening her up from the front and back, and was putting his fingers were the spatula was.
He worked up two, three, and then four fingers up her snatch, and now he had her in the eternal grip of love, as he clutched at her clinging, longing pussy, and tight, virginal asshole!
"I'm going to ... I'm going to.."."
This time, instead of letting her off the hook, and making her fall down, Roland increased his rhythmic actions, until, finally, after she thought it was never going to happen, he let her have a shattering, earth-cracking orgasm.
"YES ... YES....OH, YES...." she cried, as she came, over and over again, coming in waves, sighing and breathing and now crying, as the tears came streaming down her face.
Never.
Never in her entire life had she ever had such an orgasm.
As the cream from her cunny came cascading down, the special lotion that she had made to take made it sting in the most delightful way.
Finally, when Roland had made her spend as much as he did, he took his fingers out of her and let her try to regain her strength.
Her head fell forward, and a track of spit ran down the side of her chin.
She'd been ravaged all right, without ever having been fucked by the man.
She had no idea what, if anything, was left to do to her.
She only knew one thing.
She couldn't believe it was true, but it was.
In spite of everything.
In spite of having been raped, in effect, by this man, cruelly tied up, stripped and ravaged.
In spite of it all, she knew the simple truth.
She was falling in love with him.
The next thing she did was even more unbelievable than anything that had come so far.
He untied her.
"What ... what are you doing?" she said to him as she felt her hands go free for the first time in several hours.
"I'm untying you. I'm not some kind of animal, or something," he said, smiling at her. "You don't think I'm going to keep you tied up beyond a reasonable time, do you?"
She laughed.
"No, I guess not. Now what?"
"Now you go home."
"What?"
"You heard me. You go home."
"Just like that?"
"What do you want, a full band with a red carpet.
Go on. Fix your clothes and get out!"
She looked down at herself.
She was still fully exposed to his gaze.
She fixed herself, as reasonably as she could, and then slowly, with his help, she was able to stand up off the couch.
"You mean it?"
"I want you to write down your phone number, at home. I will call you whenever Heel like it, and you will answer my call. You will return when I say, and do as I say. Is that understood?"
She couldn't believe she Was hearing herself say it but she shook her head and said, "Yes."
"Yes what?"
Paula blushed heavily. She knew what she was supposed to say. "Yes sir." She wondered if he was going to kiss her. He wasn't.
She went to the door, just as someone rang it from the outside.
Roland stood with his arms folded, a robe now wrapped around him.
He nodded for Paula to open it on her way out.
She did, and standing there, on the other side, was another woman!
She was tall, with red hair, gorgeous, in high heels and leather skirt, and as she entered, she avoided Paula's eyes.
Paula wondered, as she rode down in the elevator.
Were there other shits besides herself?
Naturally, she got very little sleep that night. Gratefully, her parents were already sleeping when she arrived home. That was good. All her mother had to do was see her like this and she'd know ... She'd know immediately that something had happened, although what she'd never guess in a zillion years!
So, alone in her own cozy bed, she was able to masturbate herself to orgasm nearly a dozen times, as she replayed the scenes of her night with Roland over and over and over again.
She'd never imagined that such things were able to go on between men and women in New York City.
Which just went to prove to herself once more how naive she really was. '
Of course this sort of thing went on.
Everyday.
Maybe even with the other girls at school.
At least some of the other girls. The hip ones. The ones who walked that certain way.
With people who served you in restaurants. Or with people who went shopping next to you for clothes, for food, for the morning paper.
With people who loved sex as much as you did.
The weekend was, well, what could she say, a little anti-climactic.
There was no one she particularly wanted to see, nothing she really wanted to do. So on Saturday she worked all day on her homework, and then at night went to the movies, and made sure that she left her private phone machine on when she went out, lest Roland would call and not find her home.
How glad she was now that her father had given her her own private phone line last Christmas. He was such a dear!
But if he ever knew what she was using it for, she wondered how much of a dear he would continue to be!
She wasn't sure if he expected her just to hang around the house or what, but she wasn't about to stop living.
So she did some shopping Saturday night after the movie, and yet, even though she was determined not to let this thing get out of hand, she found herself racing home to see if there were any messages on her box.
There weren't.
Darn!
The next day, Sunday, she spent quite leisurely. She read the papers with her parents, in the living room, made a mental note about a film she wanted to see, and an outfit that was on sale that she simply had to have, but for the most part there was nothing of real interest there for her.
She watched a little television, and went to bed rather early. Another day with no Roland.
The next morning she dressed herself for school, feeling just oh, so hot! So she decided to wear her garter belt, the black one with the little red roses on the side, and her sheer black stockings.
She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was hoping that' if Roland was going to call her again, and there was no guarantee that he would, that she'd have one of her sexiest outfits on. Like this one.
She took a cab to work, and soon found herself at her desk, surrounded by paperwork.
She began to analyze the accounts of the previous week, and to go over their new proposed commercials.
It was a fun job, and the morning flew by.
By the early afternoon, she'd all but put Roland out of her mind, satisfied that what had happened last week was just a one time situation, and that it was never to happen again.
When she got home, earlier than anyone else, she immediately checked the phone machine.
A message!
She was taken quite by surprise when she heard the voice.
Roland's smooth voice came through her receiver.
"I will see you this evening. Directly after work. At five thirty there will be a car waiting for you in front of your house."
And with that he hung up.
How did he know where she lived?
How did he know she'd be so ready to see him.
How did he know so much about her anyway, and the fact that she would do anything he wanted.
It was just a good thing for him, she thought to herself, that her parents didn't come home before seven.
A very good thing.
She didn't think her father would appreciate the ... tutoring she was receiving from this older man.
Whatever, Roland explored her most intimate sensitivities the other night, and everything about her said take me, fuck me, abuse me, and do it again tomorrow twice as bad.
Paula couldn't wait for five o'clock to come around.
As the working day ended, she spent the last hour of it getting her self freshened in the ladies lounge of the advertising agency.
"Big date, huh?" Sylvia, one of the other female executives of the company, said to her as they both sat in front of the make-up mirror. All Paula could do was shake her head yes. Could there ever be any way of explaining to anyone what was going on inside of her?
She stepped out of her parents house precisely at five-thirty, not daring to be late.
She didn't want to incur Roland's wrath, which she knew would be terrible, if she ever had to.
Sure enough, just as he said-could she ever doubt his word?-there was the car, a stretch black limo, with a driver behind the wheel, waiting for her.
She swallowed hard, opened the door, got in, and before she could say anything to him they were off.
The drive lasted only ten minutes, before they were in front of Roland's apartment building.
The chauffeur came around, opened her door, and helped her out.
She couldn't help but notice the slightest smile on his face, as if he knew all that she was about to experience.
Why did she think he looked less like a chauffeur and mote like a drinking partner?
She couldn't think about that now.
Her head was locked into other, more immediate things.
Like how to keep her pussy from dripping as she rode up to the top floor apartment.
She got to Roland's door and was about to knock when the door opened.
It was Roland, in a thick robe, with his hair slicked back and his face clean shaven.
She stepped in.
The place smelled like a man's locker room, filled with heavy male deodorant aromas, and a very interesting after shave.
She smiled as she walked in, and was about to say hello, when Roland pointed to the floor.
"On your knees," he said to her.
She immediately dropped down in front of him, "Hands behind your back." Again, she obeyed, doing exactly what was asked of her.
Roland went around behind, and producing a length of the red silky rope, the kind that he could make as tight as he needed without causing any rope bums, he quickly bound her wrists, so that they were tight against the small of her back.
He walked around her slowly, surveying his handiwork.
He liked the way she was dressed; smart, sexy skirt, sheer black stockings, interesting white ruffled shirt, and her hair and make-up impeccable.
She was reminiscent in her look of a well-done maid.
He intended to make her well done.
He bent down behind her and put one hand on the back of her neck.
Pushing her forward gently, he was able to convey what he wanted from her without having to waste words saying it.
She leaned over, so that her head hit the floor in front.
Roland leaned over and produced a soft pillow to allow her forehead to rest upon.
She was grateful for the way he was always taking her comfort into consideration. His use of pillows for strategic parts of her body was most appreciated.
He was behind her-now, gently stroking her ass through her skirt.
Then, with a single flourish, he lifted it from either side, and flipped it over her back, so the material covered her tied hands.
The view was glorious.
Her perfectly shaped, pure white thighs shone above the end of her stockings, with the black straps of her garter belt making a gorgeous feast for his eyes.
He ran his hands up and down the backs of her naked upper thighs, and then, stuck a hand between her panty-less legs and began to stroke her pussy.
"Ooohh. " Paula moaned, as she felt his hands beginning to explore her.
She wondered what joyous punishment he had in store for her.
Imagine her surprise then, when she heard his zipper slowly opening.
Could he? would lie?
He could.
He would.
He took his enormous dick out, the one he'd not allowed her as yet to see beyond the bulge in his underwear the previous time they were together.
He began to rub it up and down the crack of her ass, sending tingles of chills deep inside the recesses of her spine.
Then, placing his two hands outward inside the warm, cuddly thighs, he gently spread them, and introduced his dick to her dripping cunny.
"Jesus," Paula hissed, from the sheer delight of being rewarded his big cock into her pussy.
She let her head push deep into the soft pillow, and tried to spread her legs as much as she could to allow her to take his big cock all the way up.
In a matter of seconds she had all of him.
He must be twelve inches, at least, she thought, as he began the multi-rhythmic thrusts of his cock deep into her hungry, waiting pussy.
"Yes ... Oh, yes...." she moaned as she felt him fucking her.
She was on her knees before him, stripped and tied and forced to take his dick up her pussy. She was being taken in the lowest, most demeaning way imaginable to her.
And she was loving it.
He moved one hand around, and slipped it between the front of her legs, not missing a chance to stroke the inside of her thighs. She began to moan and sob at the same time as she felt his hand close in on her bobbing clitoris. He took it in two fingers and began to pinch and squeeze it, until she thought she was going to completely lose it.
"SHIT ... THAT'S SO ... OHMYGOD ... THAT'S SO ... UM-
MHHH.. MMMMMHHHH ... AAAHHH...." She moaned and sighed and pushed and heaved, wishing her hands were free so she could hold on So his balls as he did her.
Then, as she knew the time was approaching, she was about to come, with a shattering, mind crackling orgasm.
And he pulled out.
"NO...."she screamed, suddenly emptied and vacant. "DON'T DO THIS TO ME...." she screamed, but it was no use.
She knew this was one of his favorite things, to bring her to the brink and then let her hang.
He came around to the front of her, put his hands on her shoulders and made her sit erect, up on her knees, like an obedient puppy.
He didn't say anything, but held a glass up to her.
Oh, God, she thought to herself, another one of his potent mixtures.
She really didn't want to drink it, didn't dunk she needed anything to get her any hotter than she already was, but there was no way out of this.
She lowered her head, and making small sob, waited for the hand she knew was coming, under her dun. to gently lift and force her to drink it.
She left the coolness of the glass between her lips, and then, the strange, hot and sweet liquid pouring into her mouth and down her throat.
Carefully, he forced her, while her hands were still bound behind her and her pussy was still palpitating from the hard fucking he'd given her, to drink every drop, and not to spill any.
The small track of liquid that did manage to escape her mouth was scooped up on the end of one of his fingers, and she was forced to lick it clean.
"Good," he said as he surveyed the empty glass.
He watched her as the potion almost immediately began to take effect.
Her eyes became a little less bright, and her mouth relaxed at the corners.
He could tell she was starting to ease into a new level of passion.
She smiled at him as his hands went to the front of her shirt.
She remembered her experience well from the other night, and now, as he undid the bottom button and pulled the shirt out of her skirt, the front of which had fallen back down to her knees, making it now graze the floor, he forced the bright white ruffled thing over her shoulders, and went to work on her bra.
This time, in anticipation of even the vaguest hopes of being called by Roland, she'd worn a strapless bra that snapped together in front, between her tits.
Therefore, with one smart move, he was able to open it and remove it completely, without having to undo her hands or readjust her shirt.
"There," he said, as he exposed her pretty, uplifted tits to his eyes.
He began to gently, expertly fondle them.
She knew at once her nipples were still sore from the punishment he'd inflicted on them the other night, but the pain was a strange combination of pleasure and humiliation.
She wasn't used to having a man expose her private parts to his indulgent explorations.
She bent her back a little so as to be able to thrust her breast charms toward him, to let him know she enjoyed this.
He answered her thrust with a hard slap across her tits.
"I'll, tell you when to do that," he said, and with that, he slipped a hand behind her neck, so as to brace her, and began to punish her for her impudence.
"No," she moaned as he slapped her across her breasts, hard and direct, making her eyes pop out.
It was not the sort of treatment she had in mind.
Again and again she felt the hard sting of his hand hitting first one, then the other, slapping her and punishing her.
Her breasts, as if in response, grew harder and more firm as she endured the beating being inflicted on her.
"No ... please ... I'll be good," she moaned as he kept at it, first on one breast, then the other, increasing his level of punishment, making her all the while sit up stock straight and take all he had to give.
"This will teach you," he said firmly, as he continued to work her over, causing the skin of her tits to turn a lovely crimson hue, and her head to turn slowly from side to side, her face wincing with each blow.
"Oowww...." she moaned as he kept at it, until finally, with a burst of sobs, the tears came to her eyes and flowed down the side of her face.
He had brought her down.
Forced her to submit to him sexually, and now had beaten her to tears.
He loved the sight of the sophisticated, beautiful woman who was now bound and on her knees before him, weeping uncontrollably, begging for him to stop.
"I'll ... do anything...." she sobbed, as finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he took his hands away from her breast and the back of her neck.
Her head immediately fell to her chest, and she heaved in soft sobbing, until she was able to regain her composure.
At this point, he merely leaned back and drank in her exposed, beaten body.
"Of course you will," he said softly.
CHAPTER FOUR
He reached underneath Paula with his strong left hand.
She had no idea what he was up to now. Was he going to masturbate her, or shove his entire fist up her snatch? Neither.
He was situating his forearm so that as her pussy came to rest on it, he was able to loop his other arm around her shoulders and left her off the ground.
Her arms were still secured behind her back at the wrists by the red cord, and her shoulders were also somewhat restrained by virtue of the shirt that was pushed down around her shoulders.
She was helpless to resist, and could do nothing when she realized she was being lifted off the floor and taken away, somewhere, into the recesses of one of the many rooms in this place.
Roland placed her on a very large brass bed, the kind with several vertical columns, making all types of fantasies distinct possibilities in the realm of reality.
Once she was on the bed he flipped her over with one single move of his hand on her back.
Now, he shoved another pillow, this one a little larger, under her hips, and at the same time he raised her skirt back up above her hips. He opened the zipper on the side, making it even easier for him to get the material to bunch, now just above her ass.
"So beautiful," he murmured as he gently stroked it.
"Aaahh...." Paula moaned as she felt his hands giving her a nice anal massage, all over both her ass cheeks.
The pain in her tits was finally beginning to subside, and as the legends of sexuality had it, when the pain of physical, sexual punishment abated, it was usually replaced by an intense, sexual heat, that needed to be fulfilled in the most immediate, sensual way.
She was enjoying what was being done to he, grateful she didn't have to remain on her knees, which had become somewhat sore from being rested upon in the living room.
Now, she was able to relax, except of course for the hands still tied behind her, and let him do whatever he wanted, to her
Which he fully intended to do.
Wordlessly, he spread the cheeks of her luscious ass, and lowered his head, so that his mouth could rest on her lovely asshole.
"Mmmm...." she sighed, through closed lips.
She loved the feel of his mouth on her ass, and the way he expertly used his tongue to get into her most private of pleasure palaces.
She didn't even mind when he reached over for the bottle of pale pink liquid that had been resting on one of his night tables, and with one deft motion, opened the tapered spout and brought it to the tip of her asshole.
"Now just relax, darling," he said, softly but firmly. "This is going to cause you intense pleasure."
She swallowed, and soon enough, as two of his finger spread her asshole open for him, she felt the nozzle of whatever it was that was entering her, slide up and go into her asshole.
He held it there for a while, letting the feeling sink hi.
Then, when her. bottom stopped wiggling and her sighs became less frequent, he suddenly squeezed the soft bottle, sending a fiery liquid blast of heated, burning, yet very oozy liquid deep into the recesses of her rectum.
"Oh, my God ... what is that...." she gasped, but knew enough not to expect any type of answer.
Whatever it was, it was having an incredible effect on her insides.
She could feel it creeping up, almost as if it were a loose solid, into her bowels, grabbing at the end as if it were a million tongues, and gently massaging her in the most delectable way.
There was no way that she could remain motionless under this kind of treatment.
Almost instantly she began to buck her hips, moving diem around, trying almost to fuck the air.
She blushed deeply, knowing that her motions were putting on the most lascivious, private performance for Roland, who showed his appreciation by gently patting her bottom with his open hand.
"Yes, baby," he said, encouraging her on.
Then he gave the bottle another squeeze, and another blast of the special liquid shot up inside of her.
"OH ... THAT'S SO ... INCREDIBLE," she shouted, as once again, he'd sent her on a sexual spasm of delight, making her toss and turn and cream, straggling to remove her bonds.
Again he squeezed the bottle, and again it performed it's magic on her, making her twitch and scream in a mixture of pleasure and pain, as the stuff inside her began to increase in temperature, and pull at her bowels.
It was the most delectable of high colonics, and something she had never experienced before.
On top of this she felt his lips, heated now with the passion of the special show she was forced to put on for him, covering her ass with kisses.
He squeezed her bottom cheeks and lightly smacked diem, as he gentry removed the nozzle from her ass, causing her to sigh in the most delighted manner.
"Oh ... that was so ... good, Roland ... you ... you treat me so ... good...."
She didn't have long to wait for the treatment to continue.
He reached for a tube of what appeared to be some greasy kind of jelly.
Meanwhile, Paula had the vague desire that she had to vacate, that the liquid inside of her was a cleansing formula.
Knowing mat Roland wouldn't let her do anything without his permission, she had to hold it in, causing her to squeeze the cheeks of her ass together, a pleasant viewing for Roland that brought a smart slap down on them.
"Ouch...." Paula said, as the sting of his slap caught her up in surprise.
Then, she felt once again her asshole being worked on, this time having the grease applied to it in such a fashion as to make it easier to get something very big and very long inside of her.
She had to admit to herself she was filled with dread as she felt the tip of his enormous dick exploring her dark secret passage.
"Not there ... oh, God, not there...." she moaned, but her pleadings fell on predictably deaf ears.
With one sure thrust, he was able to get the head in.
In spite of the pain, which was to be expected, there was a sudden burst of pleasure, which was not.
She tried to spread her thighs for him, to get more of him inside of her, and Roland, not missing the signals, slowly began to move up and in, until, a full ten minutes later, his dick was buried deep into her asshole.
"What am I doing to you...." he asked her in a firm voice, which underscored his thrusts.
"Fff ... fffucking me...." she managed to get out, as her whole body rocked under his motions.
"Where," he demanded to know.
"In ... in my ... IN MY ASSHOLE...." She screamed as the waves of erotic passion swept over her, and in a heated flush, made her come, pussy juice flowing out of her like fresh squeezed orange drink, as she bucked and kicked up against the bed and once again lost her fragile lock on her emotional state, as the tears began to flow.
Roland put his hands on either side of her garter-belted hips and began in earnest to give her a thorough fucking of her ass.
He was determined to make this the most memorable fucking she'd ever received.
To date.
He had many more plans for her, and this was his way of letting her know, yet again, that she was nothing but his slave, nothing but his usable, disposable, slave woman, at his beck and call, ready to be humiliated, stripped, tied up and abused at his whim.
It was so nice to be needed.
When he felt himself about to come, he redoubled his efforts yet again, and with a hot, supercharged bang of his cock, he shot Jetstream after Jetstream of his hot, smoking semen deep into her asshole.
The effect on Paula was manic.
The cum from his cock mingled with the potion to produce a gurgling, bubbling effect.
"I have to ... I have to go...." Paula begged, as she lay there, squeezing her ass together to try and prevent anything from coming out that wasn't supposed to.
"I know," Roland said, once more scooping her up with his hands and carrying her, this time to the big bathroom at one end of the room, where he carefully placed her on the seat.
All right, she told herself, now what.
"You may go," he said, folding his hands and standing before her.
"With you here?" she asked, humbly.
He smiled and shook his head.
"That's right, darling. With me right here."
She'd never been so humiliated in her life.
She was being made to defecate before his eyes.
Closing hers, she let the liquid combination come shooting out of her, and the feeling was wonderful indeed, as if some cork had been pulled that had kept her jammed up for all this time.
Roland studied her face, and watched as she went before him.
When she was finished, Roland made her stand and bend over completely, so he could bathe her bottom and finish her off, making sure she was squeaky clean.
Then he led her back to the living room, told her to stand erect, and undid her bonds.
"You may go now," he said to her.
"That's all?" She asked.
"For now," he said.
"Thank you ... sir," she added on, this time without having to be told.
There was something very pleasing to her to being a slut.
For one thing, it made for a hell of a way to pass a Monday night, for one thing among others.
She was out of the apartment not ten minutes later.
By the elevator, as she got on, the same woman with the red hair she'd seen the last time crossed her path once more.
She waited an extra moment until the woman was before Roland's door.
As it had in her case, the door swung open without the woman having to knock.
Most curious, Paula thought to herself.
She decided to treat herself to a huge dinner.
She was, after all, cleaned out in several senses of the word, and a good meal was just the thing she needed to make her insides feel refilled.
She got to her own kitchen just as her parents were finishing.
"Where were you, darling?"
"Oh, I had s some studying to do, mother."
Her mother smiled.
She liked that.
"Well, let me make you something to eat."
Her mother made Paula a huge salad, a couple of vegetables, and a filet steak, which she enjoyed with a cold glass milk.
Sated, both sexually and otherwise, she was ready to take herself upstairs and go to bed.
She entered her room and stripped her clothes off, including her garter belt and stockings. She was stark naked and about to take a shower when the phone rang.
No, she thought to herself. It couldn't be. He couldn't be calling me now. So soon.
She ran to the phone and picked it up. Her heart nose-dived as she heard the familiar voice of Timmy on the other end.
Timmy was her sometime boyfriend, a senior like herself, who was the type to pet with her for hours in the back of his car.
What once seemed so exciting to her now seemed so ... adolescent!
If she'd never met Roland, she might almost have been content to keep playing with Timmy, giving him the fast blowjobs he so coveted, and not thinking too much about how what she really wanted to get fucked.
The differences between Timmy and Roland were the differences between night and day. Alaska and Florida.
"Hello, baby," Timmy said, trying to sound sexy, but coming off as only silly.
"What do you want," Paula heard herself saying.
"You know," he said, greasier than a McDonald's.
"No I don't. I really don't." There was enough ice in her voice to chill a soda pop.
"I want to ... come over." for the first time, she heard the insecurity in Timmy's voice.
Usually when he phoned, it was as if he were doing a favor, and Paula always said sure, come on over and hope he'd be able to stay hard more than the couple of minutes he did.
"Well you can't," Paula heard herself say.
"Why not? Is someone else there?"
Poor boy, she thought. There was almost a panic in his voice.
"No, silly. I wouldn't do that to you."
"Oh," he said, sounding relieved.
"I just came from somebody's house. A man. A real man." She emphasized the real, to make sure Timmy didn't miss the point.
There was a long silence on the phone.
"What do you mean," he finally said.
"I mean that I've just been so thoroughly fucked up my ass that I'm afraid if you came over with your little dick, I wouldn't even know if it was inside of me. So fuck off and leave me alone, okay?"
She waited for his answer. He was silent for a long time before saying anything.
"Paula...." was all he could get out.
She chuckled, took the phone away from her ear, looking at it the way people do sometimes, and slammed it down.
The nerve of some guys.
The phone rang again.
She picked it up and shouted into it. "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU...."
"Told me what?" It was Roland.
Paula blushed a deep, long, crimson mushroom.
"Oh...." she stammered. "I'm sorry. I ... I didn't know ... I thought...."
"I just wanted to tell you thanks for a lovely evening."
"Really?" Her heart fluttered.
Roland laughed. "Of course really. Why else would I be calling you?"
"Right. That's right. Well, I rally had a...."
She didn't have time to finish her sentence. The phone went dead in her hand.
She took a deep breath and finally got into that shower.
Afterwards, as she was drying her hair, she sat by the window, doing some serious thinking.
She was sure now what she had felt the other day was real.
There was no denying it.
She was falling in love with Roland, as much for his abuse as for his willingness to heap it upon her.
No man she had ever known had been able to break down her barriers as effectively as he'd done and open her up.
He'd found all her secret places, and made her feel like a new, completely supercharged woman.
He gave her the courage to tell assholes like Timmy that there time was over, that she was no longer going to be the free pickings that they'd become used to.
So, she concluded, in her own way, becoming a slave was the true road to her liberation.
Would she be able to bear it until she next heard Roland's voice?
The day broke early for her, and she rose and took another shower, and except for the slight pain in her asshole from being so thoroughly stretched, and the remnants of the slapping across her tits, she was feeling better than she ever had.
A quick breakfast, and off to classes!
She was dressed in tight jeans, and a tight sweater across her tits, and of course, no underwear at all. The other girls looked at her with envy.
It was that kind of a Tuesday.
During study hall, she looked up to find Tim my standing sheepishly before her.
Paula looked up at him, then down at her work as she spoke.
"So what do you want? Didn't I make myself perfectly clear on the phone?"
"Yes, but...."
"Oh, stop that stammering," she said, as she closed her book and stood up.
"Please ... I've got to see you."
"Really?" She smiled, got around her desk and went up to him. "Come on."
He knew where she was taking him. To the small room just off the supply closet where a lot of the older furniture was kept. Some of it was used for school plays, or open school week.
Once inside, she clicked the door locked behind her and turned to her new prey.
She pointed to the sofa at one end of her office.
He looked at her, and went to where she was pointing.
"Sit down."
He did as he was told.
"Take it out," she commanded.
"What?"
"You heard me. Take it out of your pants."
"Here? Now."
"This is the last chance I'm going to give you. If you don't do exactly as I say...."
She didn't have to finish her sentence. It was whipped out as fast as he could get it, and in another instant it was hard.
"All right, go ahead," she said, smiling, standing in front of him, her arms crossed on her chest.
"Do what...." he said. "I don't understand."
"Yes you do. Masturbate. Now!" There was an edge of threat to her voice.
Timmy blushed deeply, looked around, then down, at his own pulsating cock. Slowly, in severe humiliation, he placed one hand on his dick and slowly began to move it back and forth.
"That's right...." Paula said, watching him jerk off in front of her.
"Mmmff" he said, involuntarily.
"What are you doing?" She said to him, sternly.
"You ... you know...." he said, ashamed to look her in the eye.
"Say it. Say it or you'll be sorry," she said to him.
"I'm ... I'm...."
"Come on, Timmy. Say it!"
"Jerking off," he managed to say, and at that moment, he came, sending short spurts of his own cum shooting into the air.
She smiled as it came down on his pants, over his shirt and on his hands.
"That's a good boy," she cooed.
"Thank you," he said, out of breath.
"Now lick your fingers clean. Go ahead, lick them."
She was merciless.
Almost in tears, he began to lick them. She watched, fascinated, as he did exactly as he was told.
When he was finished, she tossed him a box of tissues, for which to clean the rest of himself, as best he could, knowing that the stains would 'be visible to everyone the rest of the day, the inevitable stains of self-abuse.
"Now get out of here. You make me sick."
He got up, tried to say something, realized it was futile, and left the room.
Paula began laughing when he closed the door behind her, and kept it up until there were tears coming out of her eyes. He was so pathetic!
He was so ... eager to jerk off in front of her eyes! She loved it. Absolutely loved it.
Now she was able to go back to her school work, feeling even better than when she had come in, earlier that day.
The rest of the afternoon passed and when classes were over, Paula raced home, to check her machine.
No word from Roland.
Paula had to admit it, she was disappointed.
She was hoping he'd call, as he did the day before, and instruct her to get into the waiting limo at the end of the day, and be driven over to be thoroughly ravished by him, and his huge dick.
But no call came.
She picked the refrigerator, turning up some take-home Japanese food a little sushi, and decided that he would have to call her this evening.
How could he let a day go by without inflicting some new private treat in her, and making his daily deposit of semen into the very innards of her being.
But no call came.
Nine o'clock came and went.
So did ten.
The eleven o'clock news was a drag. Johnny Carson looked even older than last week. David Letterman did nothing for her.
Cable TV was boring. He wasn't going to call. She knew that now.
She got into bed, and a wave of sadness crept over her, as she suddenly became quite certain that she would never hear from him again.
What had she done wrong?
She tried to figure it out as slowly, as the black relief of sleep came and took over her mind.
She dreamt of being fucked in the ass by Roland, while Timmy was made to-sit in a corner and jerk off.
CHAPTER FIVE
And of course there was still that mysterious redhead.
She dreamt about the mysterious redhead she kept on seeing going into Cliff s apartment whenever she left.
Morning came soon enough. Paula was depressed, and knew why. No word from Cliff. Cliff?
Is mat what she was calling him now? Pretty familiar.
She noticed that for the first time, she was actually thinking of him like that.
It sent a chill down her spine and a tingle in her clitoris.
What she wouldn't give to fuck him now. Right now. Right this second. What was she thinking?
He'd never fucked her in her pussy. She knew that. She'd give anything if he would.
And of course, she knew that was part of his plan.
To make her literally beg to want to be fucked there.
What a man.
Breakfast, off to school.
Another routine day. Could it be possible, would she have to learn to live without him?
Finally, she got home and was prepared for another dull afternoon alone when the phone rang.
Like clock work.
She picked it up, her breath almost short from anticipation.
She was hoping, against hope. It had to be him. It had to be ... "How are you darling?" Aah.
"Fine. I missed you yesterday."
"Too bad. I never said it would be everyday."
"Yes, sir."
"But it is today. There is a limousine waiting for you downstairs. You are to be there in fifteen minutes, ready to come to me."
"But...." she stammered, "I can't. I'm not ready. I have too much ... homework to do. I can't just...."
"Yes you can. And you will. Those are my terms. Remember our agreement. You don't have to obey me, but the first time you don't...."
"All right. I'll get out. Somehow."
She heard the phone go dead at the other end.
What was she going to do.
She looked at her desk, piled with paper.
Fuck it, she thought.
You only live once in a while.
She got up and walked out, wearing another knockout outfit, leaving her mother a note that she had some important finals coming up and had to go with the kids to the library to study.
Sure enough, just as Roland had said it would be, the limo was there..
Paula enjoyed getting into it in broad daylight in front of the people teeming by her on either side.
She was made for limos, she decided.
A few minutes later they were at Roland's building, and a few minutes after that she was up the elevator and in front of her door, which opened before she knocked.
Only it wasn't Roland on the other end.
It was the redhead.
"Come in, please," the woman said.
She looked much older than Paula.
About thirty-two, tall, very well built, lovely legs, big tits, and that flame red hair.
She intimidated Paula by her presence. And she didn't look like she was leaving.
"Sit over there, darling," The woman said. Paula was about to protest, to ask where Roland was, but something inside of her told her she should listen to this woman and take any and all orders from her.
It was, after all, still Roland's place.
So Paula sat down on the sofa, and immediately felt herself sink in.
No sooner was she trapped by the cushions, than she felt the redhead, who'd walked around behind her, taking her hands and securing diem to the hidden red cords.
No, Paula thought to herself, not this. Not a woman.
It was only when her hands were tightly secured, that Roland emerged from the bedroom, wearing nothing but his leather underwear.
Her eyes went immediately to his bulge.
He pulled up a chair about ten feet in front of Paula, and sat down, crossing his legs and lighting a cigarette.
He was going to watch! He was going to watch the redhead ravish her!
The thought made her go wet.
Still from behind, without being able to see her, Paula felt the redhead's fingers start to play with her hair, letting the strands flow through her fingers.
She enjoyed the woman's light touch, and loved the gardenia scent she wore. Then, without warning, she felt a rubber band being put around her hair as it was pulled back behind her head.
Now that that was accomplished, the redhead undid the buttons in the back of Paula's dress. Having them opened, she loosened the front, so that with one pull down, she was able to expose Paula's tits.
Which she did.
Carefully, slowly, and from behind, she began to massage them, working her fingers delicately into the thick, pliant white skin, until the nipples responded and stood up.
"That's right...." The redhead cooed into her ears.
Then she reached down lower and started hiking up Paula's skirt.
Paula, in spite of the fact that it was a woman, in spite of the fact that Roland was watching, and that everything inside of her told her she should not help, she spread her legs.
"Good girl," The redhead whispered. Now she had the dress well above the tip of Paula's stockings and began stroking her naked thighs
"That's ... that's so good...." Paula said, as she let her head go back.
"Yes," the redhead said.
Now for the first time she came around to the front, and sat next to Paula.
Her fingers went immediately to work on the bound slave, working on her shaved pussy, stroking it and petting it, and causing Paula to involuntarily jump and jerk at her ropes, cooing and sobbing and losing her breath.
She'd never had a woman's hand anywhere near her private parts before, and although she'd heard about the mysterious tugs of the Lesbos within all women, she had no idea that it could anything this terrific!
And of course, with Roland scrutinizing every movement, everything was heightened ten-fold.
The redhead was spreading the lips of Paula's pussy, as if to show the inside to Roland.
Then, when Roland shook his head yes, the redhead came off the sofa and got on her knees in front of Paula.
She put her hands on the insides of Paula's thighs and spread them as far as she could, and then, sticking her tongue far out, so that Paula, whose eyes were wide and staring, watched in fascination as the woman moved her head slowly toward her pussy.
The redhead's tongue started to slowly start licking, up and down, from bottom to top, leaving a trail of wet heat.
"Oohhh...." Paula cooed, wanting to spread herself even further.
"Yes...." the redhead said. Then, snaking her hand around her thighs, so that she could now open up Paula's pussy from the top, the redhead stuck her unusually long tongue far up into Paula's box, causing the woman to jerk spasmodically with delight.
"Mmmm," The redhead hummed as she expertly ate Paula out, increasing her tonguing action and being totally unrelenting until at last, with a final plunge, working her head up and down and all around, she extracted a long, sobbing, dripping orgasm from the woman.
"Yes," the redhead said again.
She stood up, and began to take her clothes off.
Paula, who was reeling, without benefit even of one of the special potions that Roland was so good at conjuring, watched until the woman was down to her panties.
What was going on, Paula wondered? What was going to be next.
She didn't have to wait long.
The redhead went behind the sofa again, and when she returned, she was holding a huge dildo, attached to a belt, a dildo that was easily fifteen inches.
"You're not ... going to use that ... on me...." she said, watching in fear as the redhead tied it around her waist.
"Oh, yes, darling ... I'm going to fuck you so good now...."
"No...." Paula moaned, but it was useless to protest.
With Roland still watching, the redhead put her knees onto the edge of the sofa, so that her own thighs pushed Paula's still further back, opening her pussy lips, to accept anything anybody wanted to put in.
The redhead put one hand on Paula's shoulder, and another on the head of the huge dick.
Nestling it between her lips, she felt the woman jiggle herself beneath the ministrations.
Then, with a forward thrust of her hips, she was able to get about seven inches into Paula, who yelped with passion as she felt the thing entering her.
Then the redhead put both hands on either of Paula's shoulders, and began the rhythmic fuck thrusting, methodically opening Paula deeper than she'd ever been opened before.
As the inches disappeared into her pussy, Paula could feel them entering where she'd never felt anything go before."
Deeper, deeper into her womb than any cock, she felt as if it was going to reach up and come out of her mouth!
It felt like nothing she'd ever dreamed of. It was so good.
So good....
She strained at her bonds, trying with every ounce of her energy to get free, but it was useless.
All she could do was sit back, her hands spread apart, and bound, her legs trapped between the redhead's, pushed back by the woman's knees, and accept the fucking she was getting.
The redhead took her hands off Paula's shoulders and put diem on her face.
"Suck them," she said, softly, surely, as she forced Paula to take her tits in her mouth.
Paula went from one of the redhead's tits to the other, hungrily sucking them, giving up all resistance, as the woman continued her actions, until at last, a full forty-five minutes later, Paula felt herself coming, over and over and over again.
"Aaaah....that's....so ... oh, God, thank ... thank you ... soooo much...." she moaned, as slowly, the redhead pulled the dick, inch by inch, out of Paula's pussy.
When she was finished, she turned and smiled as Roland, her hand on Paula's shoulder, as if to pet her captive.
And still she wasn't through.
Now she undid Paula's bonds, but instead of letting her get up, she forced her over and moved her legs so that now she was lying along the length of the sofa.
There were new hidden cords revealed now, and in a flash, the redhead had meticulously bound Paula's hands above her head.
Satisfied that she was helpless, the redhead raised one leg and brought it around to Paula's chest, and sat down on it, so that she was on her tits.
"Mmmmm. Very soft," the redhead, as she bounced easily up and down.
Then she put her hands on Paula's head, and moved herself up, so that he pussy was hovering over Paula's mouth.
"Open it," the redhead commanded.
"Please...." Paula said, begging not to have to be made to suck.
"I said open it," the redhead repeated, grabbing Paula by the hair.
Having no choice, Paula opened her mouth, and for the first time in her life, felt the delicate, delicious warmth of a real pussy on her mouth.
At first she started tentatively, taking little licks and trying not to breathe.
Now, though, in a very short time, she found herself getting into it, more and more and she started chewing on the lips, and licking and sucking and lapping up the redhead's flow.
"Right ... that's right ... good, baby ... so good...." the redhead said, urging her on, until, when she was about to come, she grabbed Paula by the back of the head and forced her mouth to stay glued to her pussy while she came, all over Paula's face.
Thick, creamy streams of discharge ran all over her cheeks, down to her neck.
The redhead, all fired now and lusty, bent down and licked the face of Paula clean, getting every drop of her own cum, and then, when she finished, kissed her heavily on the mourn, pushing her own tongue deep down inside of her.
When they were finished, she rolled off and looked at Roland, smiling at the man responsible for this wonderful afternoon.
"Untie her," he commanded, and the redhead immediately set Paula free.
"That's all for today. Get dressed and go back to work."
Paula did as she was told.
The redhead was gone, into one of the other rooms.
Roland stud nothing to Paula as she went to the door, and a moment later she was out.
As she rode down the elevator, she wondered if this meant she was a lesbian as well as a slut and a whore.
What a lovely way to spend an afternoon.
Paula was able to get back home even before her parents. Refreshed, having just eaten her first pussy, she plunged herself into that leftover homework.
She suddenly remembered the cheerleader meeting schedule for that night.
How could she be so ... preoccupied, she figured was the best way to pot it.
She couldn't think of anything now but that meeting.
Hurriedly, she gathered her papers and went to the corner to catch the bus. The meeting didn't end until well after seven, It was just her luck to have been fucked, ravished eaten and forced to suck pussy, and then have to go to a late meeting that night, with all these ... kids around her!
She felt so much more ... mature than any of them. So much more worldly. So much deeper fucked! That night, after she got home, she figured it was safe to go out for awhile. Her parents didn't seem to mind. Why should they?
How could they know she'd already done service to her paramour, so as far as they were concerned she really was g going out to see some of her school chums.
She felt like having an ice cream.
She went to the malt shop where the kids all hung out, and not too long after, several of the kids came in. A couple of guys even made tentative moves toward her.
Why not? She was good-looking, she knew that, and she was this day looking like a woman who'd just had the shit fucked out of her, that was kind of obvious, so why shouldn't she look good.
The trouble was, none of these assholes who came on to her had anything going for them.
No kind of moves at all. Ever since she'd met Roland, things had turned around so drastically. Did she ever dream she could make Timmy jerk off, Timmy, who'd been jerking her off for so long?
It was nice to do a little table turning in life.
She was no longer thirsty for ice cream. She decided to take a walk instead.
She strolled down the street thinking about Roland and the redhead, and decided that yes, she was going to have to get some more pussy.
Now who did she know who would let her have their quim? She let her mind race, and of course it came up on the logical name.
Why hadn't she thought of it before? The one girl she'd bet anything on she could seduce.
Rhonda.
Lovely Rhonda, who sat next to her in Math.
She always knew that the girl was hot, and a couple of times had even caught her staring at her own thighs.
It made her wonder then.
It made her sure now.
Paula decided to go home and see what she could do about this situation.
She was home a few seconds later, back in her house.
She went to the phone machine and was stopped dead in her tracks.
The call light was blinking!
No, she told herself. It couldn't be.
She retrieved the message, and indeed, it was Roland!
"Well, I'm sorry you're not home. I was going to invite you over for some after-dinner follies. My friend, the lady with the red hair, wanted to have dessert with you. Or rather, wanted you for dessert. Next time, I'm sure."
With that the phone went dead.
Paula was beside herself.
How could she have messed this up so badly. Why waste time going to a soda shop when she could have been dessert for the redhead.
She made herself a cold soda and took her clothes off, preferring to roam her apartment totally nude.
Then, after her third coke, she remembered that she was a woman with a mission. She was going to turn Rhonda.
She got her address book out and looked up the home phone number of her classmate.
With trembling fingers, she dialed her number.
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. On the fourth ring, someone picked up.
"Hello?"
It was Rhonda. Paula recognized her voice. "Rhonda?"
"Yes?"
"It's Paula."
"Paula!" There was a noticeable change in Rhonda's voice. "Well, this is a surprise."
"I bet. What can I do for you?"
Paula was tempted to tell her.
"Well, I was doing some late homework here, and, well, you know how good you are in match, and I could really use some help."
"At home? Tonight?"
"That is if you aren't busy...."
The phone was silent for a long time. Paula didn't say anything, letting instead the implications of her words sink in.
When Rhonda began talking in a quite different tone once more.
"Well, this is most unusual ... and I was thinking about watching the game tonight ... it's a must game for the Mets...."
What? Paula didn't know anything about baseball, but she knew that this was only May, and there was no such thing as a May must game.
"Well, I'll put it on in the background for you. How's that."
"You really want me to come."
Oh, yes, Paula thought to herself.
"I'll make it worth your while."
"Promise?"
"Promise. Cross my heart." And your tits.
"Okay. I'll be over in fifteen minutes.
"That's wonderful. You have my address?"
"Why don't you give it to me."
Paula told Rhonda were to go, and then, after she hung up the phone, decided the place needed a little straightening up.
She took some of her mom's best perfume from the bathroom and sprayed it all around her room, making the place smell luxuriously decadent, like an elegant east side townhouse whorehouse.
Next, she sprinkled the bed with her finest bath talc.
And finally, she changed into something obviously seductive; her see-through nylon negligee, under which she wore her garter belt, stockings, and on her feet high heels.
She made herself still another soda and sat down, waiting patiently for her downstairs buzzer to go off.
It didn't take long.
She called out to her folks, already buried in their room for the night, watching television and doing who knows what that she'd get it, it was her girlfriend from school, for studying.
"All right," her mother's voice intoned, wafting from behind the closed door.
"Rhonda," Paula said when she opened the door.
Rhonda was wearing jeans and a leather jacket. She smiled as she came in.
"I see that you're dressed for work." She smiled and smirked.
"Well, it was late, and I thought...."
"Who are you trying to kid?"
Paula was surprised at Rhonda's words.
"Whatever do you mean."
"You must think I was born yesterday. We have no homework today. Remember? Anyway, kind of work do you think you're going to doin that get-up?"
Paula blushed. Fuck it, she thought. I'm going to come right out with it.
"Pussy work, darling. I'm going to work on your pussy."
"Really," Rhonda said, smiling. "And what makes you so sure that I'm going to let you?"
"I'm sure," Paula said. With that, she put her hands on either side of Rhonda's face and brought her mouth on to hers, forcing her tongue deep into Rhonda's throat.
She kissed her long and hard, and when she was finished, she smiled at her visitor, and turned her head a little to the side.
"Let's go in the bedroom, Rhonda," Paula said.
Rhonda made no move to resist as she was led by the hand inside.
CHAPTER SIX
Paula led Rhonda into the bedroom by her hot eager little hand.
She could feel the perspiration beading up in her secretary's hand.
She's always-thought Rhonda attractive, and at times daydreamed about who the girl who sat next to her in math.
But who could possibly know, by looking, that there was the definite streak of the Lesbos within her, and that in addition to liking other women, that she was going to allow herself to be turned into a sex slut?
Oh, Paula had no doubts about that last decision.
There was no way Rhonda would consent to come over if she didn't want to, long to, need to be dominated. Even by a woman. Especially by a fellow student.
So much had changed in Paula's life these last few days.
Never, in her wildest fantasies, daytime or night, could she ever have dreamed that she'd be so dominated and abused by a man such as Roland, who, ironically, by tying her down and restricting her movements had at the same time liberated something much more divine, something much more in need of freedom.
Paula's right to be a slut.
God bless America!
Paula's room had the classic scent of sex floating through it, as the perfume and talc that she had so carefully laid down now clung to the air like so many lapping tongues.
Rhonda still had that same smirk on her face, and it only made her sexier in Paula's eyes.
She always thought Rhonda one of the more attractive potential sluts in the office.
"Now, Rhonda, why don't you sit down on the side of the bed, and just relax."
"All right. If you think you know what you're doing."
"Don't worry, darling...." There was that same word again. Funny how sex had it's own dialogue ... "I know exactly what I'm doing, and I know exactly what you'll be doing, lb the very last movement, bitch."
Those last words bit into Rhonda, sending a flurry of heat waves down her spine.
She'd never heard her boss talk in that manner, in that tone of voice, with that type of language.
She loved it.
Rhonda sat where she was told..
Paula, with a wicked smile on her face that said more about her intentions than perhaps anyone might have wanted to know, went to her dresser drawer and retrieved a length of clothesline that she'd put there earlier.
It was purchased originally for hanging clothes up in her bathroom, to let diem dry naturally, but now she had a much better use for it.
"Put your hands behind your back, Rhonda," Paula said, in a soothing, seductive, stroking tone of voice.
Rhonda did as she was told.
In a flash, Paula had put seven turns of the rope around the girl's wrists, so that they formed a neatly wrapped restraint, finished off with a double hitch knot, making it virtually impossible to escape.
The more struggling against this type of bond, the tighter it usually got.
Paula then went into the bathroom and filled a large quart container with warm water.
She returned and began to pour the water over Rhonda's bonds.
Paula knew that as the water evaporated, the bonds would automatically become tighter, and even more restrictive.
She was out to make Rhonda; to turn her and reduce her to a total, whimpering slave, before the night was out.
"Comfortable?" Paula asked, with a soft, mocking tone in her voice.
Rhonda, whose smile was now starting to recede, shook her head yes.
"Good," Paula said. "Stand up."
Rhonda did as she was told.
She was led to the other side of the bedroom, where Paula produced a wood stool.
The stool was kept in the closet, and used by Paula for things like changing light bulbs.
Now, though it was to take on a much more interesting, and useful role.
She commanded Rhonda to stand in front of it.
Rhonda did, and Paula went-behind her, moved the stool a little to the side-these actions designed to keep Rhonda a little confused and less-well oriented-and undid the buttons at the back of
Rhonda's dress.
Rhonda said nothing, as, once the garment was loosened, Paula pushed it over the front of her the girl's arms and down, so that it hung like a loose frock, held up by the bound wrists from behind.
Next, Paula squatted down and picked up the skirt from the bottom, so that it was tucked up around the waist.
Paula was thrilled to see that Rhonda had worn no underwear of any kind.
There was no doubt now that this was exactly what Rhonda was hoping for when she ran over to meet Paula.
"Sit," Paula said, sounding as if she were commanding her French Poodle to go down on it's haunches.
Rhonda moved back slightly, and found the stool which Paula had moved back into place.
Once on the chair, Paula went swiftly and assuredly to work on the woman.
She looped the rope around Rhonda's neck a couple of times, so that the girl would understand that she wasn't to move very much later on, when she would most likely not be able to contain herself very well.
She brought the end of the loop down behind, to meet the wrists, bound still under the expense of red dress.
There, she secured that length of rope, forcing
Rhonda to sit up tall.
Any slumping would put pressure on her neck. Paula wanted her beauty slave to be erect!
Now, she came around the front and gently lifted one of Rhonda's legs, pushing it wide to the side and around one of the legs of the stool, so that she could tie the ankle in such a position as to make sure it was wide and immobile.
Then she did the same to the other side.
When she was finished, she surveyed her work.
"Very fine," she said, putting a couple of fingers under Rhonda's very pretty chin, and moving them back and forth.
"So, darling, how do you feel now?"
"Lovely," Rhonda said, more softly than Paula had ever heard her sound before. "Just ... lovely...."
Paula surveyed her work.
It made her pussy wet to see her secretary, the same woman who sat day after day in her office, so efficiently answering the phones, sitting here in her bedroom nude and bound, made to sit erect, with her legs spread apart and her very bushy pussy wide open for any and all comers.
"Now, darling, I just want you to relax," Paula said, moving up close to the girl, and putting her arms around her waist, she looked deeply into the eyes of her captive, and without saying anything else, planted a long, deep kiss into the mouth of Rhonda.
She liked the feel of the girl's thick, lush lips on her own, and enjoyed the feel of her body as she pressed her own into it.
Paula was still in her robe, and intended to keep it on for awhile.
Seeing her nude, she decided, was a privilege Rhonda was going to have to earn.
When she took her mouth away from the girl, she looked again into her eyes, and noticed that now, Rhonda's face was turned a deep crimson. Paula wondered if she'd ever been kissed by a woman before.
She was sure she'd never been tied up. There are some things you can just tell about women. Especially other women.
Slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on Rhonda's, so much so that the woman tried to turn away, feeling too intensely Paula's gaze, Paula began to run her hands over the other woman's breasts.
When she saw Rhonda turn away, she sternly moved her face back to hers, and gave the woman a hard, unexpected slap across her cheek.
"OH!" Rhonda said, not expecting that. Paula's fingers left a huge imprint on the girl's face.
This was followed by a stern warning. "If you take your eyes off me again, it won't go well for you, my dear," Paula said. "Understand?"
Rhonda slowly shook her head yes.
Paula was delighted.
This was going to be an excellent fellow student for her to train. Just excellent!
Paula now returned to her breast massage tactics that she was about to begin in earnest.
When her hands finally went to Rhonda's lovely, full and yawning breasts, she could hear the audible sigh let out by her captive.
"Aaaahh...." Rhonda said, slowly, with her mouth dropping open, and her eyes obediently fixed on Paula's.
"There ... there, now ... doesn't that feel wonderful?" Paula asked, and Rhonda, her voice hoarse now from lust, tried her best to answer.
"Yes...."
"Yes, what?" Paula herself had learned her lessons well, and was delighting in passing them on. "Yes ... mistress...."
Paula smiled. "Very good, darling. For that you deserve a special reward."
Paula now stepped up the actions of her fingers on Rhonda's very sensitive breasts, causing the woman to squirm and move about in her chair, all the while keeping her eyes where they were supposed to be.
Now, she began to work on the nipples exclusively, squeezing and pinching them, working them up and pulling on them, delighting in their immediate and eager response.
Each of them perked up hard and straight, like loaded .22 caliber bullets.
Paula seemed please at their enthusiasm, and still keeping her eyes on Rhonda, lowered her wet mouth onto one of them, slowly letting her tongue push up against the tip of the nipple, then brushing it lightly, sending spasm of delight to the trussed Rhonda.
"Ooohhh...." Sheila cooed, as she twisted against her restraints; not for anything like wanting to be freed, just from the sheer delight of how delicious Paula's mouth felt on her tits.
Paula went hungrily from one to the other, licking and sucking and eating them, until, within a matter of minutes, she had Rhonda effectively undulating in a sitting position, trying, if it was at all possible, to spread her legs even farther than she was already forced to do.
Paula lightly dropped the fingers of one hand to Rhonda's ample bush, and began to easily stroke her pussy.
"Jesus," Rhonda hissed, as if she were not expecting to wonderful a sensation to coarse through her.
"What is it, Rhonda?" Paula asked, a smile on her face and a leer in her voice.
"That feels so ... goood...." Rhonda dripped out of her mouth.
"I know...." Paula said.
And then she stopped.
This caused Rhonda to snap to attention. She wasn't prepared for this sudden withdrawal of pleasure.
She didn't understand that Paula had something else in mind, than simple stroking.
Paula wanted to see Rhonda squirm in her seat, and to come with an orgasm so intense she wouldn't know what hit her.
Leaving her captive erect and naked on the stool, Paula went to her drawer and took out her favorite private toy, a very expensive, black vibrator in the shape of a twelve inch cock.
It was one of those custom jobs, where the sheath actually looks and feels like human dick, and the vibration is as intense as anything on the market today.
"Jesus," Rhonda said, her eyes widening, her mouth watering when she saw the thing.
"You're not going to., mmmffff.." She wasn't able to finish her sentence, because Paula, holding the woman's face in one strong hand, forced the tip of it into her mouth.
"Suck it," Paula commanded.
Rhonda did as she was told.
Paula loved the way the girl went at it, having to suck on the vibrating dildo that she knew in a few minutes was going to make her squirm and bounce with joy.
When Paula pulled it out of her mouth, saliva had run down the side of her race, as she had been overwhelmed with the pleasure of sucking Paula's dildo.
She could taste the warm, tangy flavor of Paula's pussy on the thing, and knew that it must have lived inside of her love channel for hours on end.
Just like her own did back home.
However, she'd never let anyone see hers, let alone use it on her.
She was now panting in anticipation of what promised to be a most delicious experience.
Slowly, Paula tracked the thing down Rhonda's stomach, between her tits and on to the small triangle of hair just above her pussy.
Rhonda's body went into a series of minute mini-spasms, as each movement cause ripples of thrills to coarse through her.
Then, quite efficiently, with a smirk of real joy on her face, Paula took the thing away and holding it up to Rhonda's face, switched it on.
Rhonda could hear the loud ZZZZZ of the vibrator, and watched, in fascination as it moved back and forth in a blur in Paula's hand. it was obviously much more powerful man her own vibrator,, and she swallowed hard when she realized she was going to get worked over by this instrument.
Paula, now satisfied that she'd set up Rhonda for the final payoff, put a hand down to the girl's pussy. to spread open the waiting, eager lips.
She didn't have to probe very deeply to be met with a warm, sticky' flow. She liked that.
She spread the lips open, and with one deep thrust, pushed the whirring device as far up into the woman's glistening love cunt, causing Rhonda to buckle and kick into her restraints, and let out with a very loud, piercing scream.
"AAAAAIIIIII...." It was like nothing she'd ever, ever experienced.
Paula quickly withdrew the thing and slapped Rhonda once more, hard across the face.
"How dare you make such a noise in my house" Paula said.
She went to the drawer and took out a long kerchief, whirling it about a couple of times so it was tight and long, and without saying a word, came around behind the captive girl and gagged her.
Rhonda tried to move her head to avoid the silken gag, but it was no use.
She was now effectively silenced. The shock of the vibrator's power was still reverberating through her.
She was afraid she was going to be made to feel it again, and really didn't know if she'd be able to take it.
It felt like nothing else in the world. Certainly like no man could ever make her feel. She watched with wide, frightened eyes, as Paula dowry brought the dung borne agent.
Why, she thought to herself, why did I ever consent to letting myself be tied up in such a disgraceful manner.
This woman, she thought now, this woman is going to till me with pleasure!
A not altogether unpleasant thought
Paula pushed the humming vibrates back up inside Rhonda, this tune all twelve inches, causing Rhonda's pussy lips to cling to h, like it had glue on it's ends, as. the vibrations caused Rhonda to shake and lock, and now to start crying, as the tears dripped out of her eyes.
Paula had to put one hand on the small of the girl's back as she began to manipulate the vibrator, moving it around, in and out and up and down, from side to side fast, then stow, then fast again, as she slowly worked up her captive into an hysterical frenzy.
It was a good thing she'd secured her as tightly as she had to the stool, otherwise the woman would have been over on the floor long before now.
Then it happened.
Rhonda lost her voice, threw her head back as far as she could, and even though she was gagged, it was evident that she was experiencing the most intense, the wettest and the longest orgasm she'd ever have in her life.
Seeing this, Paula pushed the vibrator up as fir as she could get it, so that just the very end was still visible.
Then, holding it in there with her thumb, she lowered her lips to Rhonda's outstanding clitoris, and putting her lips on it, sucked it hard and brutally.
This was all too much for Rhonda, who with one final, muffled shriek of abandoned lust, suddenly-went turgid and sweaty all over, with beads of cold sweat pocking her body, just before her head fell forward and slumped in a dead faint.
What a feeling, Paula thought. Fainting from coming. A most delightful, rare experience.
Now that Rhonda was out cold, there was no sense in going on.
She turned off the vibrator and removed it.
Next, she got a couple of warm towels from the bathroom and toweled down her captive, until slowly, the girl started to come around.
When she did, Paula removed her gag, and kissed her on the mouth.
As if to show her intense, eternal gratitude, Rhonda returned the kiss with an eagerness that surprised Paula.
She knew the woman had enjoyed this, but she had no idea how much sp.
"There, there, darling," Paula said. "Are you all right now?"
"All right?" Rhonda echoed. "That was the most ... oh, thank you, Paula ... thank you so much...." Paula petted her face.
"That's all right, darling. This was only the beginning."
She slowly untied her charge, who slumped forward into her arms when she was free.
Paula caressed her for another hour or so, until Rhonda felt strong enough to put her clothes back on properly, and get ready to leave, promising mat she would always be available, anytime of the day or night, for something as wonderful as this.
By the time they said goodnight, Paula knew they were now more man friends, and would be for a good long time.
Alone now, Paula made herself a malted in the kitchen and taking it upstairs, stared out her window.
It was a lovely night, she told herself, and one where she knew that both girls would sleep well, each in her own bed, each more than sated.
Paula now knew what it was like to be in charge.
She longed now for her phone to ring again, for Roland, to whom she knew she owed so much, to call her for another debasement.
She hoped that when he did, the redhead would be there.
There was something about a beautiful woman working over another woman that was, well, just about the most exciting thing than one could imagine.
Paula fell quickly and contentedly to sleep.
The next morning was lovely, and Paula decided to go to school and pretend nothing had happened. She only hoped that Roland called sometime during the day while she was gone, and would tell her he just had to see her!
She got to school on time, and when she walked into match she smiled at her sexy new friend, whose face blushed a deep crimson.
"So, how are you this morning?" she asked.
In response, Rhonda, still blushing, turned her head away.
"Well, I hope that means you're finer Paula said:
"Paula, " Rhonda whispered, "Can we do that again sometime?"
"Now, what is that," Paula asked, smiling. She was obviously enjoying this!
"Can I ... can I...."
"Come now, darling, don't be afraid, come right out and say it. I won't hurt you."
"I want you to ... kiss me ... there...." she said, furiously blushing and burying her face.
"Aawww...." Paula said. "You're so sweet. Of course darling."
Paula saw Rhonda's mourn water and knew if they were alone, they'd be on each other.
But this was still school, so they had to be careful and discreet.
"Anytime," Paula said, wiping her mouth and no smiling, her familiar feckless grin once more taking over her face.
Paula returned to her own desk and sat down, ready for the day's lesson.
When she got home that night, still with a warm glow to her cheeks, and finding it harder than she imagined it would be to get Rhonda out of her head, she checked the machine.
No messages.
Wasn't the damn phone ever going to ring? Ever?
CHAPTER SEVEN
It would.
Typically, it now seemed, when Paula least expected it. And that made it even better. But, she wondered, how did he always, know when the best times were?
How did he know what was always going on in her life?
It was as mysterious as everything else about him.
She wished she could figure him out.
She wished she knew more about the man. Not that she didn't trust him, not that he didn't get her off, not any of that.
She just wanted to know all about Roland, for the very simple reason that, after concluding her evening and morning sessions with Rhonda, she was sure beyond any doubt that she was totally in love with her master, her liberator, the man with the lease on her pussy.
The buzzer went off on her desk. Paula picked it up.
It was Rhonda.
"Telephone call for you on line one," she said, her voice purring over the line.
"Thank you, darling," Paula said, her heart pounding.
She punched the first line.
"Hello!"
"There will be a limousine waiting for you...."
She was downstairs at the stroke of five.
All the meetings in the world wouldn't have been able to prevent her from keeping this appointment.
The car was there, as always, and she was in and whisked off in an instant, her pussy palpitating with anticipation, and pumping with desire.
She rode the hi-rise elevator, wondering why it had to take so long to get to his apartment.
When it did, she dashed off down the hall, and of course the door opened without her knocking.
The redhead was waiting.
The woman had a spectacular outfit on; leather, from head to toe, the smooth elastic type. It was almost a body suit, except that it ended just below her lovely large tits, helping to jut them out.
Her legs were sheathed in tall leather boots, and the entire outfit was framed with chains and studs.
She didn't say anything besides the necessary. "Take off all your clothes. Everything. Garter belts, stockings, all of it. We want you thoroughly naked, young lady." ft was the kind of command that sent chills down her spine.
Why would they want her so naked? What malicious sort of game did they have in store for her today?
The anxiety of anticipation showed on her face as she was forced to strip in front of the nameless redhead.
The woman crossed her arms, with an angry, strong look on her face as Paula removed first her white shirt, then the bra, reaching up in front and removing the garment by releasing the single-clasp release.
Even though she had already had so much done to her by this woman, she still blushed and felt embarrassed to have her tits exposed, in such a cold, bare way.
However, she continued to strip.
She unzipped the side of her leather skirt, and let it fall to the ground, after which she stepped out of it.
Her face burned now as she undid the snaps of her garter belt, and rolled down each of the black, very sheer stockings, taking them over her ankles and off.
She was now totally naked.
"Come here," The redhead said, and Paula did as she was told.
The redhead then turned Paula slowly around, so that she could drink in the magnificent white and shiny body that was before her.
"Do I please you, mistress?" Paula asked, somewhat boldly in light of the fact that she hadn't been asked anything.
"So far, darling, very much. But still, you have to be punished. You will be punished this evening in a severe and somewhat heartless manner. Are you ready and willing to submit?"
Paula's heart sank. Punishment? For what? What had she done to make them so unhappy with her. Her head fell to her chest.
"Yes," she said, softly, knowing that if she didn't go along with what they intended, she would be ousted from the pack, and never brought back into the fold she had come to adore so arduously.
"Then follow me."
Paula was led into a room she'd never seen before.
It was like stepping into another world. The room was obviously the second of many bedrooms the lovely penthouse had, and it was much bigger than the first she'd been ravished in.
However, it wasn't the decor that caught her eye.
It was something much more threatening.
In the center of the roof hung two handcuff apparatus that dangled from the ceiling.
Paula's heart pounded.
She knew what they were for.
She was instructed by the redhead to stand just under them.
Not wanting to protest, but not wanting to be shackled either, she reluctantly did as she was told.
No sooner was she there than the redhead released a switch on the side of the room which slowly lowered the cuffs.
Then, the redhead returned to where Paula was standing and attached the leather bindings, one on each wrist.
Paula knew what was going to happen, as the redhead went back to the wall switch and pushed it up.
The cuffs slowly rose, and with them, Paula's arms, until she was standing with her arms raised straight above her head, this causing her tits to stand out firmly and tautly in front of her.
In spite of her apprehension, or maybe because of it, her nipples were hard and erect. How embarrassing!
Paula thought that was going to be the extent of it, but she was wrong.
Wasting no time, the redhead next took a strong, steel bar from the closet and brought it over to Paula's naked feet.
The bar had chains and links on it, so that it was able to be attached to Paula's ankles in such a way that it caused her legs to be spread apart.
These people didn't miss a trick, she thought to herself as she felt her body now stretched and parted.
She wished, deep in her soul, that there was a way for the redhead to know what she really wanted; to be worked over with a power vibrator in the same manner that she had done Rhonda.
But there was nothing even remotely like that in the schedule.
Going back to her closet, the redhead brought out her first bit of equipment for the evening and it caused Paula to shrink with fear!
"No!" Paula said, as she sat the lashes of the whip being slapped lasciviously into the redhead's hands.
She was going to be whipped, and she knew it was going to be severely.
She closed her eyes as the redhead came over to her and started petting her body with her rubber covered hands.
"So sweet ... so smooth...." the redhead said. "So willing to feel the lash...."
"Nooo...." Paula moaned, but it was no use.
Even as the redhead was stroking the soft, willing cheeks of her bottom, the redhead suddenly moved her hand to Paula's neck, holding it firmly in her grip as she brought the whip down across Paula's bottom for the first in a series of long, hard smacks.
THWACK went the whip, hitting Paula's bottom with a sharp, hard thud.
"JESUS" Paula screamed, as the separate lashes hit hard, cutting into her beautiful ass, leaving deep red marks of lust, along with shooting lines of pain.
Paula had never felt anything like it.
Again and again the lash came down, as the redhead mercilessly worked on Paula, turning her body a crimson color from head to foot, missing no inch of her, as she worked the lash up high for a series of stinging blows, around and in front to get her tits, then down below, letting it lick at her thighs and finally, into the most tender flesh of her pussy.
Paula screamed and twisted and jerked herself, knowing full well that no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn't be able to get very much movement.
She was bound and trussed, stripped naked and being forced to submit to the most brutal working over that she'd ever had, whipped to a crazed frenzy by the tall, gorgeous but heartless redhead.
It seemed like hours before the woman slowed up her torture.
She'd turned Paula into a welted, weeping woman, who was now openly pleading with the redhead to stop.
"Please ... I'll do anything ... anything you want ... only please, PLEASE STOP...." she cried, hunching herself as best she could into spasms of sobs.
"You little bitch," the redhead hissed.
This will teach you not to obey me and Roland. You have not been a good girl, have you?"
Paula didn't dare disagree. "Nnnno ... I haven't...." she said.
For that, the redhead redoubled her efforts, pounding Paula mercilessly, until finally, in a haze of pain and tears, she slumped forward, gratefully beaten in unconsciousness.
When she next opened her eyes, it was to the sight of the redhead strapping on her giant fifteen inch plus dildo. She had been patiently waiting for Paula to come out of it, for phase two of her punishment.
She had no idea how long she'd been out, if it had been minutes or hours.
She didn't have the luxury of thinking about it very long, for now, as her body tingled all over with the cross-manipulation of pleasure and pain, the redhead was standing directly in front of her, opening the lips of her pussy and starting to apply the dildo to her cunt.
It was amazing.
She'd never been fucked like this before.
Standing, it made her whole pussy feel as if it were being jerked upwards by a street drill, the kind those men use when they tear up the sidewalk, a jackhammer she thought they were called.
And that's just what was being done to her.
She was being jackhammered into another type of submission by the delectable redhead, who, in spite of all the cruelty she'd inflicted on her prisoner, was a terrific fucker.
"Come on, baby," she said to Paula as she continued to fuck the shit out of her, moving up and down with luscious, rapid strokes, until, in spite of all the hurt, Paula began to moan and sigh in a sexual pool of delight.
"God ... you're so ... unbelievably good ... to me...." she sighed, as again and again she felt the waves of pleasure coming upon her.
Now, as the churning of the inside of her pussy continued, she felt herself starting to come.
She started coming in waves, tidal waves, coming over and over and over again, like she'd never come in her entire life.
Maybe it was because the beating had brought her nerve endings to the surface, maybe it was because she was undeniably attracted to the redhead who'd administered the beatings to her, or maybe it was just that somewhere in her inner being she was born to be a submissive, but whatever the reason, she offered up the sweetest, heaviest, and longest orgasm of her life to the woman who had spent the better part of two hours dominating and punishing her.
She'd never been punished into a faint before.
And some people thought they'd experienced it all.
Now, finally, as the redhead drew out her artificial dick from Paula's pussy, she sweetly stroked the side of her face.
"There there," she said, easily, calming down Paula, once more sobbing from the force and intensity of her fucking.
It was then that Roland first made his appearance.
"Good evening," he said to her, evenly, as the redhead stood with her hand in the back of Paula's neck, in a true sign of domination.
"Good evening, master," Paula said, humbly.
"You have been a bad girl," he said to her calmly.
"Yes," she said, although she didn't know what he was talking about.
"You won't do it again, will you?"
"I don't want to do anything to disobey you any longer, master. If you would only tell me...."
"You must find out for yourself."
"Thank you, master."
Roland nodded to the redhead, who began to undue the bonds, as Roland disappeared.
When she was free, Paula allowed the redhead to help her to the nearby bed, where she stretched out and for the first time that night was allowed to relax.
The redhead then brought her small vial of astringent and began applying it to the wounds she'd inflicted on the lovely Paula.
"Thank you," Paula said softly, and the redhead smiled and kissed her gently on the lips.
"Now you may get dressed," she told the captive.
Paula put her clothes back on, and a little while later, was shown to the door.
"See you next time," the redhead said, as the door closed behind her.
Paula was in a semi-swoon as she went down the elevator.
The only thing she couldn't understand was what they were talking about, when they said she was a bad girl.
What could they have possibly meant by that? It didn't matter.
Her pussy was feeling glorious, like she'd never felt before.
She was only sorry that she hadn't investigated the dark, mysterious world of Lesbos, and the darker, more mysterious world of sex slave domination.
The night was warm and calm. Paula decided to have something to eat, after which she found herself going back to her own room, and drawing herself a hot, soothing bath.
She poured in the bubble solution and soon, she was sitting in the warm water, letting the bubbles soak into her skin.
Until the phone rang.
She bolted up out of the water, grabbed her robe, and hurried, as fast as she could to answer the phone. She was too late.
She was also angry that she hadn't put her machine on. Who could possibly have been calling her. Was it Roland, or the redhead even? Or maybe it was Rhonda? Ah.
Rhonda.
If there was one thing positive, beyond the thunder orgasm that she'd had, that she now had a new arsenal to try out on her willing and very hot little school chum.
She went back into the bath, with a new drink in her hand.
And the phone rang again.
This time, though, she'd left her phone machine on, so she leaned back, sipped .her soda and relaxed, until she'd soaked all the hurt out of her body.
It was nearly after midnight when she finally came out of the bath and decided to make herself a cup of warm milk before going to bed.
And checked her phone machine.
"This is Roland...."
Roland! Oh, how she wished now she'd taken that call!
"I want you to know how lovely you looked suspended from the ceiling ... it was something I'll remember for a long time. Remind me to show you the pictures I took of you under the extreme conditions of your beating. Most delightful.
"The next time, darling, you will be with me. I want you to know that."
The phone went dead.
Her heart was pounding.
More pictures.
They would be able to do anything to her, under threat of those photos.
She sunk down in a chair.
She was so vulnerable.
So victimized by Roland and the redhead.
Why had she allowed herself to be put into such a compromising position?
Why had she allowed her pussy to control her life rather than her head.
She started to weep.
Wait a minute, she told herself.
What am I weeping about?
She dabbed at her tears.
This isn't so bad.
So they have some pictures.
So what?
Nobody knows who she is? She wasn't some famous actress or something who could be hurt by them. She was just a normal, hot-blooded bi-sexual teenager who loved to fuck.
So they wanted to whip her.
So what.
So they wanted to fuck her in every orifice. So what.
So they wanted to play master slave games. So what.
So they weren't games, she told herself. They were deadly serious, and they were manipulating every fibre of her body and mind. Wasn't she lucky.
She slept that night like a new born baby.
When she woke the next day, she found herself feeling unusually refreshed.
She hesitated looking at herself in the mirror, for fear that she would be all black and blue.
She knew that even when she bumped herself lightly on the corner of her desk, a black and blue mark usually appeared.
She didn't was to be covered with marks now. It would be most unappealing.
She stood in front of the full-length bedroom mirror.
Miraculously, her skin was completely smooth, with no sign of the torture she'd taken the night before.
She didn't understand how such a thing was possible.
She didn't understand how the redhead could be so knowledgeable with that whip, to be able to beat her senseless, and then, through a series of strokings and manipulations with that special astringement, to leave her totally unmarked.
Just one more reason she considered herself to be among the luckiest people in New York City.
Breakfast, then off to school with a smile on her face and the image of the redhead wearing a dildo on her mind.
This was going to be an unusually busy morning.
It was the final exams day!
Paula arrived a few minutes early, and talked with Rhonda in the hallway.
It was obvious to her that Rhonda had more on her mind than just taking a test.
"Meet me afterwards in the closet with the furniture," Paula said, quickly, squeezing Rhonda's hand as she did so.
She knew that Rhonda got the message.
The whole message. Paula noticed that Rhonda was looking most fetching this morning, in a smart grey dress suit with a lusciously short skirt that showed off her long, smooth legs, and the garter belt that pressed through the sides of the tight cut.
Paula liked the fact that her school chum was, just like herself, a hot sex shit. She would have tied her up right then and there, and maybe given her a good spanking, if they didn't have this damn final exam to take.
Oh well ... if it wasn't one thing, it was another, she thought to herself.
The exam was held in the large lecture hall, and making sure she was being watched, all through the test, Rhonda kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, so that she was giving Paula beaver shots every minute or so, and when Paula looked up at her face, she'd give her the look of a woman who wanted more than anything else to be stretched out on a bed and given a thorough dildo fucking, with a power vibrator!
Paula had trouble keeping her mind on the test!
It dragged on for hours, and when it was finished, everyone was supposed to go home. There were no classes during test week.
But not these two. They met outside the exam room, and Paula told Rhonda to go into their secret place.
"Yes," Rhonda said, softly, so that only Paula could hear her.
Paula smiled, her face offering a promise of delicious things to come.
They played for a while, with Paula making Rhonda come with her fingers, and after that, they decided to go to the corner soda shop, where a lot of the kids would be, going over test results.
And incredibly, right there at the counter, having an ice-cream soda of all things, smiling and talking to another young gentleman, was Roland!
Paula didn't know what to do.
Should she go over to him and say hello? Would that be wrong?
She just didn't know what to do.
All she knew, she couldn't take her eyes off of Roland.
He was so smooth, so handsome, so easy to get along with, and here in the normal atmosphere of the soda shop, he looked as attractive as he did when she first allowed herself to be picked up by him.
That had certainly been her lucky day.
She had a soda and then another one, and finally, when she was finished doing her official mingling, she decided the time was right to go over and talk to Roland.
What was the worst thing he could do? Tie her up later and beat her up?, She should be so lucky.
However, she didn't have a chance to try out her theory.
For, when she went over to where he had been standing and drinking, he was gone! Gone!
Vanished, as if he'd never been there. Maybe he wasn't.
Maybe it had all been an illusion. Paula couldn't think straight. TGIF. That God It was Friday-
CHAPTER EIGHT
There were some things that you just didn't expect.
No matter how well prepared you were, no matter how much you thought you'd seen it all.
Take Monday morning, for example.
It had been an awful weekend for Paula.
She hadn't heard a word from Roland and the , redhead. She had no idea why, or if it had anything to do with seeing Roland in the bar on Friday afternoon.
All she knew for certain was, she was one very horny teenager.
Which is, perhaps, why, her mind wasn't on her school work when she walked into the classroom, that Monday morning.
It would have been bad enough if she'd seen Rhonda, doing something like sitting at her own desk with her skirt up, masturbating with her pencil box.
She could have lived with that.
Hell, she could have gotten along very well with that kind of scene, thank you.
Or if she'd found Burt, that ex-boyfriend wimp of hers, jerking off at the foot of her desk.
She knew he was into masturbation, she'd proved as much the other day.
These fantasies got her so hot she knew she'd have to do something about them.
Her parents were away for a couple of days, which meant her house was going to be free. She wasted no time in taking advantage of that little face, and invited the both of them over after school.
Of course, they both jumped at the chance to be with her.
That afternoon, when Paula opened her front door, she invited the both of them in, made some hot chocolate and excused herself.
She wanted them to be alone for a while, to see what Rhonda would do. She knew it would have to be Rhonda who would make the first move. Timmy, of course, was just too much of a wuss!
When she came back into the room, Paula wasn't surprised then, at all, to see Timmy was over Rhonda's lovely knees, his pants unbuckled, and pulled down to his ankles, taking a very severe spanking from the haughty teen.
"What's going on here," she asked, putting her hands on her hips, pretending to be pissed off, even though she was really enjoying the whole well-planned thing.
Rhonda was so surprised she rolled Timmy off and let him hand smack on the floor, at which time he rushed to get dressed and tried to scamper out.
"Just a minute, little man. Where do you think you're going?"
"I was just. ... I didn't mean...."
"I thought the only decent thing I could do was to give him a firm spanking." Rhonda fluffed her hair with her fingers as she spoke.
"Is that right," Paula said. "Now just who died and left you in charge?"
"Nobody." Rhonda's voice dropped considerably.
"I think the thing for me to do is to teach both of you a lesson," Paula said, causing Timmy to turn white with fear and Rhonda red with anticipation.
It suddenly occurred to Paula that of course Rhonda would know that she'd be caught, and that it would lead to punishment.
That was probably why she did it in the first place.
All right, Paula thought. If that's the name of the game, let's play it right!
"You," she said to Timmy. "Get over here." He got up and did as he was told.
Paula reached down and undid the belt he'd just closed. .
She opened the clasp and pulled it through the loops of his pants. "Now turn around."
He did and Paula easily bound his wrists with the belt, so that his hands were unable to move.
From the comer of her eye she could see that Rhonda was enjoying the spectacle, letting her sun dress rise up above her knees, revealing her lovely, just slightly plump and very smooth thighs.
"Now get over by that sofa. And sit!"
He did, resting back so that he could feel his own bound hands working on his back.
"Now, Rhonda, get on your knees."
Rhonda swallowed hard and did as she was told.
She looked so lovely, so clean and fresh that Paula wished she had her vibrator with her, right here in the office, so that she could spread Rhonda's legs and masturbate her right off.
But she didn't, so she had to be content with her original plan.
"Open his pants, Rhonda." Her hot sexy schoolmate looked longingly at Paula.
This was not one of the things she was hoping for. Paula had very little real interest in Timmy.
Paula seemed to sense this and meant to make the most of it.
The situation was, after all, one of punishment, not pleasure.
Well, not pleasure for the other two.
Rhonda reached in to Timmy's opened zipper and felt his rock-hard cock.
She slipped it out of the opening and watched in fascination as it stood erect at attention, surprised it was as big as it was.
She was obviously expecting something a little more in keeping with his personality.
"Now," Paula said, bending down so she was right next to Rhonda, "I'm going to watch you give head, darling. I'm going to make you suck his cock, and I'm going to watch. Now open your mouth like a good little girl and let me see you take him in."
Rhonda swallowed, wishing there were some way out of this.
But, in her heart, she knew there wasn't, and that by pleasing Paula, she might be getting some pleasure out of all this after all.
She opened her lips, and, licking her tongue all about her teeth, parted her mouth enough to take in the first inch or so of Timmy's cock head.
"Yeahhh...." Timmy uttered, as he felt her wonderful mouth closing in all around him, and for his sigh of pleasure received a firm slap in the face from Paula.
"I didn't say you should enjoy this, did I?"
Timmy didn't say anything, and tried to keep his sighing in check.
He knew that if he incurred Paula's wrath, he'd be in for it.
"Harder," Paula whispered, getting all hot as she watched her schoolmate start sucking in earnest.
In spite of the enforcement, in spite of the intended punishment, Rhonda was getting off on the luscious treat of having a hard cock to suck.
Loud, smacking noises took over the room as Rhonda, now with a red face and a bobbing head, reached up to grab the base of Timmy's dick, to get a better hold.
"Don't touch it," Rhonda hissed, as she smacked away her schoolmate's hand.
"Mmmmfffff...." Rhonda moaned, dribble coming out of both sides of her mouth as she increased the action on Timmy.
At this point, it was Paula who reached over and took the boy's shaft in his hand, to start masturbating it, moving it up and down in a slow but steady rhythm, until, predictably, she felt his hips starting to move up and down.
"That's it," Rhonda said, as she increased the pressure of her hand, while Rhonda increased the movement of her lips, tongue and mourn.
"I'm going to ... Oh, God, I'm going to...."
"Yes, Timmy!" Paula said, in a soothing voice, urging him on....
"I'm going to ... COME...." He screamed as he shot, and Rhonda, trying to get it all in, kept moving her head with the rhythm of his sucking.
"All of it." Paula commanded, "lake all of it in your mouth and suck it down, baby," Paula said, her voice husky and short as she watched Rhonda swallow all of Timmy's cum.
It was a glorious sight, and made Paula all wet, just to see it.
When Rhonda was finally finished, she was allowed to take her mouth off the young man, and fall backward, giving her knees a well deserved rest.
"As for you, Timmy, I think you better zip up and get out of here before I really get angry."
He didn't say anything as Paula rolled him over to undo the belt that had held his hands prisoner behind his back.
"All right, move. What are you waiting for?"
Timmy was out of there in no seconds flat, leaving only Rhonda, whose mouth was getting sticky from all the semen that was still on her lips, slumped in front of the sofa.
Paula said nothing, crouching instead and letting her hands slide up Rhonda's dress, feeling the smooth, creamy skin of her thighs.
Rhonda, whose eyes were still slightly out of focus from the cock sucking she'd just administered, let out an easy sigh as she felt her boss's hands feeling her up. She shifted easily in her seat, and put her own hand on top of Paula's busily exploring one.
"No," Paula said in a hushed voice.
"You relax. You've earned it. let me."
With that, she gently moved Rhonda's hands away and stroked up the thighs of the lovely schoolmate until she could feel the rising heat coming from the girl's thighs.
Rhonda felt herself parting her own thighs.
She'd been longing to feel Paula's fingers inside of her once more, to feel the smooth proving digits going deep inside her body.
"Yes," Paula whispered as she gently rolled Rhonda over, lifted her skirt and exposed her beautiful hairy bush.
Putting a palm on either side of the girl's inner thighs, she gentry spread diem apart, and lowered her head so that her tongue came to rest on the outer lips of Rhonda's pussy.
"Ob, thank you ... mistress...." Rhonda moaned, as she felt Paula starting to work on her, sending her tongue in and out of the sweet crevice, licking all the juices and making smacking and sucking noises, loud enough to fill the entire room.
Rhonda put her hands on Paula's head and held it there by the hair as, from the force and the heat of the moment, she lifted her legs straight in the air.
She was in a hot state of ecstasy now as she felt herself being drawn deeper and deeper in the whirl of sexual lust that Paula was spinning with her mouth.
Deeper, deeper went Paula's tongue, each time thrusting home with a sharp move that sent Rhonda's hips pushing back in a retaliatory heave that signaled the young schoolmate 's being ever so close to having an orgasm.
"I'm ... I'm ... I'm going ... SHIT ... I'M GOING TO COME ALL OVER YOU...." Paula said, as she , closed her eyes and felt herself spasming, tossing her head from side to side, at once embarrassed and elated.
She spent for a full minute, loading up Paula with her cream.
When she was finally finished, Paula took her mouth off her schoolmate and kissed her full on the lips, her face lips, feeling Rhonda eagerly licking the leftover cream.
"There," Paula said. "That's better. Now I don't want you doing that type of thing without my permission anymore, do you understand?"
Rhonda shook her head yes, and then was allowed to stand up and go home.
She rearranged the lower part of her dress, ran a hand through her hair, and walked out the front door.
Paula sat down in her chair, well sated by the afternoon's activities.
She loved eating pussy, and abusing Timmy.
It was such a neat combination of give and take; something she'd have to get into more, she knew, as the days went on.
Poor Timmy, she thought.
Made to be the object of her humiliation.
But, on the other hand, he kept coming back for more.
Was that her fault?
No, she decided, it wasn't.
He was asking for it, and the least she could do was give it to him.
Charity begins at home she concluded, as she got down to her afternoon's housework, the stuff she'd promised her mother she'd take care of while she was away.
But, as she worked, she found her fantasies held captive by Roland and the redhead as she idly thought about being caught in their bedroom, suspended over head and continually whipped.
So delightful.
She was thinking about that when her phone machine buzzer went off. She smiled lightly. It was Rhonda. "Yes, darling?"
"I've been thinking about you, little girl." It was him!
It was amazing!
"How would you like to come over now?"
Would she! Just would she!
A chill went through her body.
"Roland?" She tried to sound casual. What would she do in normal circumstances. "I'd really love to."
"So get your hot little ass over here as fast as your schoolgirl slut legs can carry you!"
He was always so romantic!
In another half-hour, Rhonda was in front of Roland's door, her heart beating a jungle rhythm.
Roland stood next to the sofa, looking as extraordinarily handsome as ever.
Paula couldn't help the blood rushing to her cheeks.
Here was the man who had taken over complete control of her most inner desires, who'd explored her body and brought her the most enduring climaxes she'd ever had. And now he was here.
"Hello, sir," she said humbly.
"What am I going to do with you?" He said simply.
Her face got hotter. "What ... what do you mean?"
"No matter what I tell you, no matter how much I warn you, or even threaten you, you continue to misbehave."
"I really don't understand...."
"You are not supposed to have sexual relations with anyone except when I say so and approve. Those were the terms you agreed to. Do you think that if I'm not in the room I don't know what is going on?"
"I ... it's...." Paula stammered and grew even more red and heated in her face. How did he know? How did he possibly know?
"I am going to have to punish you. Come here."
Roland pointed to the sofa. Paula, her head down, walked slowly to the very spot where, only hours earlier, she had been the one inflicting the punishment.
It was the constant shift from mistress to slave that was playing havoc with her nerves.
Roland sat down and gestured for Paula to lie over his legs:
She knew what that meant.
She was going to get a spanking. Right here in her own office!
Slowly, she let herself go over his strong thighs.
He instructed her to put the palms of her hands on the floor in front of her, partly to help her keep her balance, partly to make it impossible for her to move or to resist what was coming.
She did so, her hair falling forward, almost completely covering her face. A make-shift blindfold!
Roland slowly lifted her wide skirt.
She had on her garter belt this morning, and the exposure to him of her secret charms in this manner was most ... humiliating.
In another second, the skirt was up around her waist and her bottom, with only the sheerest of panties, was ten exposed.
He ran a hand up and down the back of her thighs, several times, and it sent a cool chill running through her back.
She couldn't deny that she loved the feel of Ins strong hands on her, and that in this position, with the tips of her toes just barely touching the ground on the other side, she was most vulnerable, and somehow super-sensitive to his touch.
He gave no warning, but suddenly came down with the flat of his palm, hard on her ass, sending a blast of pain searing through the flimsy panties, to the first several layers of her skin.
Paula cried out in surprise and pain, and before she could collect her feelings, he came down again, on exactly the same spot.
The wriggling of her ass was an absolute turnon, even for the normally cool and aloof Roland, who stepped up the beating, making sure that his blows kept hitting the same two spots, one on either of her cheeks, until, each time he hit her, she jumped in such a way to indicate that the pain was growing more intense each time.
"Mmmhhhhh" she whined, as it was starting to become unbearable.
There was a long pause, and, through the sweat that had gathered on her forehead, she was thinking, hoping that perhaps she had paid for her indiscretions and was going to be allowed to stand up. Wrong.
He was inching her panties down, below her hips!
She couldn't believe how stripped she felt.
It wasn't just that he was taking off her panties and exposing her ass.
It was that she knew it had his hand prints all over it, and that he was going to step up his punishment now.
He began with a series of hard smacks, making her jump and wince, and after the fifteen or sixteenth smack, she couldn't be sure, the inevitable tears started flowing from her eyes.
She couldn't help it.
No matter how much she tried to hold back, no matter how much she told herself that this time she wouldn't break down, that she would be able to take all that he could give, she was no match for him.
He was an expert in breaking her down, in making her pay for her behavior.
Her vision blurred in a salty splash of tears as again and again the blows came down on her lovely, taut buttocks.
All the way up to a very tough twenty, she counted, until she was just about to fall squarely on the floor.
Then he slopped.
He held her like dial for a long time, until without any forewarning, he leaned over and let his lips find her blistering bottom, and planted two of the loveliest kisses he could muster on her, one on each cheek.
The touch of his lips sent delightful spasms of glee through her system.
It was those kind of moves that would forever endear him to her.
Then, he carefully replaced her sheer panties, and put her skirt back down over her.
"You may get up now," he said, helping her to stand.
Her hands went to her bottom, which she held and rubbed, like a little girl who'd just received a hard spanking from her father.
"Now, when you get off from school tomorrow afternoon, there will be the car waiting for you."
"Yes, sir."
He came up and put his arms around her. She was taken back by this. It was so ... out of character!
"I'm looking forward to seeing you. I hope I don't have to ... teach you anymore lessons for awhile. I hope I ... fuck you tonight."
Then he was gone.
Paula couldn't believe what she'd heard. In spite of the cruel fashion he'd used to inflict this latest brand of punishment, he had just demonstrated as much tenderness as she'd ever seen from him. Now, in spite of everything, her pussy was throbbing with anticipation.
To feel again and again the probing of his big dick up into the secret passages of her pussy was something that she'd dreamt about for so long.
Now, it was going to, maybe, hopefully, possibly, come true at last!
She was going to be given the supreme pleasure of fucking him!
It made sitting down almost bearable. Almost, but not quite.
The next day her thoughts were only marginally on her school work.
The rest were on the fact that tonight, with the simple act of putting his fingers into her private peach slit, Roland would finally, happily, take her on the most incredible journey yet. He would allow her to feel, deep inside of her, again and again, his big prick fucking the shit out of her.
Everyone wondered why she looked so happy this day.
Could she possibly tell them that she'd had her ex-boyfriend sucked off by her schoolmate , that she'd eaten her schoolmate's dripping pussy right after, that she'd been spanked by the man she loved, right there in her office, and that at long last she was going to be treated to the best fucking she'd ever had?
Hardly.
She was better off telling them some nonsense about how satisfying her schoolwork was coming.
It was getting late. Soon, she'd be leaving this dull arena and heading down for her limo.
Her limo.
Roland was such a classy guy.
EPILOGUE
Which somehow, all led to Paula being tied, spread open with her ass high and wide on the wooden horse.
Slowly, a mysterious person came around the front of the wooden horse, until finally, she was in the sightlines of Paula.
"I don't believe it," Paula said. "I don't."
"Well, you ought to. You don't think any of this was by accident, do you?" The sly smirk on Rhonda's face was how Paula first was able to see her.
"You...." Paula said.
"Of course," Rhonda said. "How else would Roland know all the bad things you were doing to us? How else would he know just when to call you, when your parents were away, during exam week and everything?"
"You set me up, it's all a set-up." Paula said softly.
"That's right, darling. It was I who had Roland follow you that first night, so he could pick you up. I knew you were ready to be trained, and I wanted the pleasure of supervising your training."
Rhonda laughed softly once, and leaning over, reached for the feather that was inside Paula's pussy.
With one swift motion, she pulled it out of her captive.
"Now, open your mouth," she said, sweetly, seductively, yet with a full sound command in her voice.
Paula did what she was told, and the feather was put in between her lips.
"Suck on it," Rhonda demanded, as Paula closed her mouth. Rhonda then went to the wall and took one of the whips off of it, snapping it smartly in her palm.
"You are going to be given the honor of being my victim now. I am going to whip you like you've never been whipped before."
There was a sound in Rhonda's voice that she'd never had before.
It was frightening to Paula, who knew now that she was going to be worked over with absolutely no mercy.
Rhonda went around to Paula's side, and gently ran her hand down the back of one of her thighs, letting her hand come to rest there, gently prodding the girl's thighs even farther apart than they already were.
Without giving any signal, she came down hard with the whip, smacking the girl across both cheeks, leaving a deep welt.
"OOOOHHH...." Paula wailed, screaming in pain. The force of the last was more than she could bear.
Again, Rhonda let the whip come down, smacking hard, with no hint of letting up.
"OOOHHH...." Paula cried out again, twisting in any manner of fashion that she possibly could.
"You want punishment?" Rhonda said, haughtily, as she continued the whipping of her daytime boss. "I'm in charge now, dearie," she said, letting the whip hit the same spot, which was now open and bleeding down the back of Paula's ass.
"Oh, please, Rhonda ... please ... stop ... I can't take anymore...."
"Oh yes you can," Rhonda hissed, hitting her still again on the open spot.
Paula began to cry, weeping uncontrollably, fearing that she would be beaten beyond rescue this time.
Rhonda now stared working up the back, leaving a series of welts and bruises on the girl, and when she was done with that, she went down each leg, so that by the time she was finished, Paula was "Striped," a method of whipping that only the most advanced slaves were ordinarily allowed to bear.
Rhonda was out of breath. It had taken a full forty-five minutes to administer the punishment.
She put down the whip, took a jar of cold cream and rubbed it in her hands, to soothe the hurt from the workout.
Then, standing in front of Paula, who was still sobbing and weeping uncontrollably, she began to undress herself, stepping out of the same dress she'd worn when she'd been worked over by Paula earlier that day, stepping out of the high heels and sheer black panties, until she too, was nude. She threw her tits out and hobbled them in Paula's face, laughing as she did so.
She then reached out and took Paula's nipples, which were protruding just under her face, and squeezed them tightly, hard, between the two fingers of each hand.
"NO ... PLEASE LET ME GO...." Paula pleaded, but to no avail.
She was being forced to accept this new form of punishment, and it was hurting her in a new place, one that hadn't felt the heat and force of the lash.
Rhonda had a mad, wet look in her eyes, a look that divorced her from any semblance of reality.
She was on fire now, eager to reduce Paula to within an inch of her life, if possible.
When she finished working on her captive's tits, she went around to behind her, taking the jar of cold cream with her.
She scooped up a handful and started applying it to Paula's ass.
Paula let out a grateful sigh, the coolness of the stuff giving her a bit of temporary relief from the pain the whip had left with he.
Until she realized that it wasn't only for soothing that the cream was being applied.
Rhonda expertly spread the cheeks of Paula's striped ass, and stuck not one, but two fingers, soaked with the cream, far up into Paula's asshole, causing a whole new level of sexual sensations to creep through her.
She was nearly in a faint, but Rhonda was far too professional to let Paula off that easy.
She wasn't going to bring her quite to the point of sleep, because that would have been a way of letting her escape.
"Does that feel good, darling," Rhonda asked as she continued to work her fingers in and out.
"Yyyesss...." Paula moaned, loving the way the fingers were worked up deep into her asshole. There was a certain vulnerability that came with it.
And a certain pain, especially when Rhonda, concentrating with the intensity of a brain surgeon, made another bold move, shoving another two fingers of the same hand in.
"NO ... no more ... please, Rhonda ... no more...." Paula begged, but trussed up as she was on the horse, there was no way she was going to be able to much of anything about it, as she felt the fingers, now all four of them, wiggling mercilessly inside of her.
"Oh, it's no so bad," Rhonda said, soothingly, and as if to show that she really like Paula, she kissed the girl on one of the cheeks of her asshole.
Then, because she had this in mind all along, she put her thumb in too, and now she had heir whole fist inside Paula.
"Jesus ... oh, Jesus ... oh, Jesus Christ almighty," Paula moaned, knowing now what she was in store for.
"What am I doing to you," Rhonda asked her friend.
"You ... know...." Paula said, the sweat beading up on her forehead.
"Say it ... say it or I'll whip you again ... do you want me to give you another striping?"
"NO ... you're fist-fucking ... me ... FIST-FUCKING ME...." Paula sobbed, as she felt her asshole being stretched beyond her very belief.
"That's right, darling. You're being fist-fucked by me, and I'm an expert."
Rhonda kept at it for several minutes, until Paula's breath was coming in short, gasping gulps.
And still she wasn't finished.
She had more in store for the poor girl. With her free hand, she inserted two creamed fingers into Paula's pussy, able to feel the heat and wetness there.
"Lovely...." Rhonda said, as she worked the next to fingers in.
Paula's ass and pussy were now up in the air, responding to the incredible treatment she was being afforded. Now, she was being fist-fucked in the ass and the pussy at the same time, as Rhonda managed to get her entire fist, up to her elbow, into Paula's pussy.
She could feel the two arms of the girl, working in alternating rhythms like a couple of pistons, further and further into her body, one hand working up to her bowels, the other into her very womb. She was impaled on Rhonda's arms, and loving it.
She was weeping hysterically now, sobbing and moaning, the tears running out of her eyes, the dribble flowing freely out of the sides of her mouth.
"Come on...." Rhonda said, seductively as she kept it up. "Come on ... I want you to come for me now," she said, as she increased the motions of her hands.
Paula had no choice. She could feel her body responding, even though she was loathe to let the woman know that she was able to bring her off like this.
With one final move of both her arms, Rhonda felt the girl coming. Fist-fucking her like this, she was able to feel whether or not Paula actually came or was faking it. But she knew that nobody could fake the emotions that Paula was feeling, and as she continued to work the girl up, raising her temperature first with the striping and now with the fist-fucking, she could feel Paula's asshole contracting along with the inner muscles of her pussy.
Paula was coming, and the more she came the more she could feel herself coming, until, finally, it was as if she had spent every last drop of herself, and she did, mercifully, collapse into a dead faint.
She was out for hours, having no recollection of how Rhonda's fists were taken out of her.
She also had no recognition of where she was. The room was black and dark. She tried to move out of the bed, but she couldn't. That was when she realized that she was strapped down. When she struggled against the bonds for a couple more minutes, the door, to the room suddenly swung open.
There, at the head of her bed, standing in the semi-darkness, was Roland, the redhead, and Rhonda, all fully dressed.
"How do you feel, darling?" Roland asked.
"Like I've had the shit literally fucked out of me," Paula responded.
"Do you feel well enough to travel?"
"I think I can make it home, if that's what you mean."
Well.
Talk about education. This had been the best!
She'd learned more about life than in all the classes she'd ever had combined.
And she had a new respect for her friend, Rhonda.
And was very appreciative of the fact that they'd let her in on everything, at last.
It was important for her to know.
It would give her a better opportunity to make choices.
She was looking forward to seeing her parents again.
And that night, as she lay in bed, she realized she might never see Roland again, but somehow that was all right too.
Maybe he wasn't Mr. Ideal at all.
Maybe she should be with someone more ... her own age.
Like Timmy.
Yes....
Maybe Timmy wasn't so bad after all.
She kept that in mind the next day back at school.
She had to be careful when she tried to sit, because her body was, naturally, quite tender.
But when she saw Timmy, she gave him the kind of smile that made him wonder what she was up to now.
Nothing, she told herself. Everything.
She was going to treat Timmy the way he deserved. Nicely, that was. Very, very nicely.
And if that bulge in his pants meant anything, he was more than ready. Good boy..
