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From: Shon Richards <shonrichards@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} {ASSD} "Cell Phone Slave" 3/14 (Mdom/F, Mast, Stripping)
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Date: Wed, 03 May 2006 11:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Cell Phone Slave 03.doc" begin>

This erotic third part of a 14 part series was written by me,
Shon Richards.  Please do not reprint on your website, blog, love
letters to your lover etc without asking me first.  I have yet to
refuse a reprint but let's just be polite about it, okay?

You can write to me at shonrichards@yahoo.com.  I am easily
approachable and delighted to hear your comments.

Find out what I am up to at http://erotiterrorist.blogspot.com/
as well as read earlier parts. 
  
"Cell Phone Slave"
By Shon Richards




	Rick and Helen were still asleep when Amaya woke up.  They were
still asleep when she returned from the showers so Amaya grabbed
some clothes and got dressed quickly.  She wasn't crazy about
dressing with Rick in the room but what could she do?  As Amaya
thought about it, she realized it wasn't any worse than when she
stripped by the window.  At least here she wasn't posing for
him.

	She went downstairs and sought out the cafeteria.  Their morning
selection was dismal but Amaya was still excited about actually
having money.  Once again she got a little of everything so she
could sample it all.  Weeks of crackers and peanut butter had
deprived her of the simple joys of life like orange juice and
butter.  Amaya felt like a pig loading up her tray but only
briefly.  She was enjoying eating too much to care.

	Shortly after sitting down, a guy stopped at her table.  Amaya
was too stunned to hear what he said at first and she had to ask
him to repeat himself.

	"Do you mind if I join you?" he said.  "I saw you eating alone
and I thought no one should face food this bad alone."

	Amaya couldn't believe her eyes and ears.  He was tall, neat and
had the best blue eyes.  A sense of humor that didn't involve
breasts was enough to win her but good-looking too?  

	"Please do," she said.  "My name is Amaya."

	He sat down across from her.  "Mine is Chris.  Is this your
first year?"

	"Is it that obvious?" Amaya asked.  

	Chris laughed.  "No, other than the fact that you're eating
here.  I mean I'm only eating here because I hate myself."

	Amaya smiled.  "I don't hate myself yet, but I might if I have
to finish this bagel."

	"Now I'm supposed to ask your major," Chris said.  "I'm not sure
why, but everyone asks me five minutes into a conversation.  It
might be a law."

	"I noticed that too!" Amaya said.  "I think it's just a way to
ask people questions that they are used to.  For the record, I
haven't picked a major yet.  I thought I would do my basic two
years and then swing into what interests me."

	"Good for you," Chris said.  "Me, I've sold my soul to the
theater."

	Amaya's heart jumped.  The theater?  Was he Wesley?  He did have
a soft southern accent but then so did have the people here.  A
theater major would be appropriate for dramatic aspects of her
benefactor.  Looking at Chris, Amaya realized that she wouldn't
mind if it was he.  She blushed as her x-rated thoughts.

	"You've turned all pink," Chris said.  "Are you allergic to the
theater?"

	She shook her head.  "Sorry, you just reminded me of friends
that I miss.  They went to state to be theater majors."   

	Amaya was ashamed of how easily she had lied.  What was she
going to say?  That he might be the guy slipping her money and
vibrators? 

Her explanation seemed to satisfy Chris and she felt really
guilty when a look of concern came over his face.  

"I know the feeling," Chris said.  "Most of my friends went to
State too.  Heck, all of them did.  But I figured out what the
cure was for missing your old friends.  You got to go out and
make new ones."

Amaya chuckled bitterly.  "Fat chance of that.  My roommate and I
don't get along.  My lab partners in biology won't even talk to
each other.  The only person I do talk to is on the phone."

She cut herself off as soon as she said that.  Amaya hadn't meant
to mention Wesley but there it was.  On the other hand, maybe
that would be Chris's clue to own up to being her mystery man. 

He didn't.

"I know what your problem is," Chris said.  "You've been spending
too much time missing friends and not enough time having fun. 
You're being overwhelmed by your boredom and need to get
somewhere.  I know we just meet, but how about we get your mind
off things this Friday night?  How about dinner and a movie?
Don't even think of it as a date, just two people spending time
outside of their rooms."

Amaya frowned, smiled and frowned again.  The look on Chris's was
just as confusing as he tried to follow her emotions.  Amaya
hadn't expected to be asked out!  She was equally delighted and
perplexed.  Was he just feeling sorry for her?  Or maybe the
cafeteria was a place for people to hook up and no ever told
her?

"Yes, that would be great," Amaya said.  Part of her was
hesitant; she didn't really know this guy at all.  He was cute
and funny, but he could also be a psycho.  Amaya knew she
shouldn't be agreeing to a date after five minutes of
conversation but the idea of spending another Friday night
reading was too much to escape.

Then again, she stripped for Wesley and gave him her underwear
without ever seeing his face.

After accepting, Amaya talked for another blissful twenty minutes
with Chris.  She noticed that he relaxed a lot once she agreed to
the date.  His whole body relaxed and Amaya was startled to
realize that she actually had made him nervous.  Did a handsome
guy like him really expect her to say no?  

They discussed the movies that were playing and agreed to see
anything except a movie about teenagers.  Chris told a joke about
how movie studios pick scripts that had Amaya choking on her
pancakes.  She hadn't laughed that hard since coming to school
and it felt good.  Laughing had lifted a huge weight from her
that she didn't even know she had.  Amaya listened to his other
jokes and soaked in the good humor. 

Amaya wanted to stay for another hour but she had morning
classes.  They agreed to meet in the lobby at six tonight and to
finalize their plans then.  Chris stood up when Amaya did and she
found this rare act of chivalry charming.  It was also
unsettling.  Would he be so chivalrous if he knew she was
carrying a vibrator in her backpack?

The classes couldn't go fast enough.  Amaya half-listened to
lectures and rarely took notes.  How could she?  Wesley had given
her a time and a place to be as well as a vibrator.  Amaya knew
the next dare would be intense enough to warrant four hundred
dollars and Amaya had a feeling she might have to finally
decline.  The entire experience had been exhilarating but she
always knew there would be a time when Wesley would ask for too
much.  Amaya also knew that today might not be that day, which is
why the day seemed to take so long.  She was in a rush to see if
this was the end after all.

Noon came and Amaya headed for the theater.  She got there five
minutes early and waited.  Part of her wondered if Wesley was
going to arrive in person.  The idea excited her.  She kept
fidgeting as she waited for her thong was tight and wet against
her sex.  

When the school clock tower chimed at noon, Amaya's phone rang.

"Hello Amaya, are you at the theater?" Wesley said.

"Yes," Amaya said.  

"Then listen very carefully," Wesley instructed.  "Walk around to
the side that faces the parking lot.  There should be a door that
is propped open by a box.  Go on in and turn right until you see
a flight of stairs.  Once you are up the stairs, call me back. 
Repeat it back to me."

Amaya did and when Wesley was sure that she understood, he hung
up.  She put the phone in her pocket and headed around the
theater.  Her pulse raced with every step and when she saw the
open door, she had to pause to catch her breath.  There were
signs on the door that warned against being left open and Amaya
felt a twinge of guilt.  Was Wesley asking her to do something
illegal?  She steeled herself and walked in.  

Inside the theater was jammed with students.  Amaya smirked as
she realized that not one of them seemed bothered by the open
door.  She relaxed and turned right.  The stairs were a good
distance away but none of the students stopped her or questioned
why she was there.  The stairs themselves were roped off but
Amaya stepped over the rope without hesitation.  She
half-expected someone to complain but again they ignored her.  

The second floor was dark and quiet.  Amaya questioned the wisdom
of coming here, especially since she really didn't know Wesley. 
What if this was some kind of trap?  Shaking a little, she called
him.  

"I'm up the stairs," Amaya said.

"Good, turn left and go to the fourth door," Wesley said.

"I'm here," Amaya said when she was in front of it.

"Go in, it should be unlocked," Wesley said.

Amaya opened the door and didn't like how dark it was.  She had a
sudden suspicion that he was in there waiting for her. 
Cautiously she went in and found a light switch.  It was an empty
dressing room.  Amaya felt relieved and then a little
disappointed.  He wasn't here after all.

"Lock the door behind you," Wesley said.  "And take a look
around."

The door had a solid lock that looked brand new.  Amaya locked it
and checked it twice before examining the dressing room.  It
looked like the kind of place you would see in a movie about
actresses.  A vanity table dominated the room, complete with a
mirror encircled by light bulbs.  Several gowns hung from dummies
and a comfortable looking couch lined the far wall.  

Amaya approached the vanity table and looked at the chair in
front of it.  The chair was plush with a soft leather seat.  The
tabletop was almost bare except for a box and a set of headphones
but the light bulb surrounded mirror made Amaya feel glamorous. 
The box was plugged into an outlet.  Amaya almost opened it but
decided against it.  She asked Wesley what he wanted her to do
now.

"First, I would like you to take off your shirt and pants in
front of the mirror," Wesley said. 

She looked at the mirror suspiciously.  Was there a camera?  A
shiver of excitement went down her spine.  How could Amaya know
for sure?  She liked the idea of Wesley watching her so she took
off her shirt in a slow dramatic fashion.  Her pants came off
just as slowly and she took care to wiggle her hips as the pants
slid down.

"They're off," she whispered into the phone.

"Good, what color are your panties and bra today?"

Amaya concealed her disappointment.  Apparently he wasn't
watching her after all.  "They're both blue.  Dark blue."

"Sounds lovely," Wesley said.  "Plug in the headset to your phone
and set the phone down on the table.  I want to be able to talk
to you while your hands are free."

A thrill ran through Amaya.  He wanted her hands free?  That
single sentence made Amaya very moist between her thighs.  She
plugged in the headset and put it on.  The sound quality was
amazing.    

"Do you see the box on the table?  Open it but be careful, the
inside will be hot."

The box opened to reveal a heating apparatus.  A bottle was
sitting inside, filled with a yellow liquid.  Amaya took out the
bottle as Wesley instructed and opened it.  The smell of
something exotic filled the room.

"Wow, what is this?" Amaya said.  The aroma was thick and sweet.

"I'm glad you like it.  It's one of my favorite smells.  Pour a
little into your hand and rub it into your arms."

Amaya did as he commanded.  The lotion was thick and warm in her
fingers.  Amaya massaged her left arm and moaned as the hot
liquid melted into her skin.

"Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what you see," Wesley
commanded.

"My skin is shimmering from the lotion," Amaya said.  "I'm doing
my other arm now and both limbs are glowing."

"Use the oil to massage your legs," Wesley said.  "And tell me
what you are doing."

Amaya liked the hint of desperation in his voice.  It made her
feel powerful and beautiful.

"I'm putting my foot on the table so I can reach my legs," Amaya
said.  "My leg is stretched out and I'm pouring the lotion
directly onto my thigh.  Oh!  It is so very warm!"

She imagined that she heard a groan from Wesley but she couldn't
be sure.

"My fingers are digging into my skin and I'm massaging the oil
down my legs.  I'm doing my calf now.  Its glowing like my arms
are."

"Do the other leg now," Wesley said and this time Amaya was sure
she heard a moan. 

"Okay," Amaya said.  "I have my other leg up now.  This time I'm
pouring the oil into my hands."

"Start with your calf and work your way up," Wesley commanded. 

"Yes, I shall," Amaya said.  "I have to stretch to reach my calf
but it feels so good with the oil.  I'm using both hands, moving
my hands in a circular rub."

"I'm up to my knee.  Now I'm doing my thigh.  Oh, I love this
lotion.  It smells so good."

Wesley let Amaya massage herself for a minute before giving his
next command.  She already knew what it would be and she was
impatient to obey.

"Take off your bra," Wesley asked.  "And look in the mirror. 
Describe them to me."

 "They're round," Amaya said after she removed her bra.  "My
breasts are very round and I guess kind of high.  I've seen
pictures of women in porn but their breasts are never as up as
mine are.  My nipples are very brown and under this light, they
almost look black."

"Are they hard?" Wesley asked.

"Very," Amaya purred.  The sexuality in her voice surprised her.
This was fun and although she was in a theater, she felt very
alone and comfortable.  It was also enjoyable to be teasing
Wesley for a change and she was reveling in it.

"Rub the lotion into your breasts and watch the mirror.  Don't
talk about it, just do it and watch," Wesley said.

Amaya poured the lotion into her hands and did as she asked. 
When her slippery fingers brushed her nipples, Amaya moaned
loudly before controlling herself.  Her breasts were very
sensitive, almost tingling to the touch.  The lotion only
enflamed her arousal and she caught herself digging her fingers
into her soft flesh.

Looking in the mirror, Amaya noted how much she looked like some
sort of pinup model.  Maybe it was just her hard nipples or maybe
it was the glow of her skin, but Amaya realized just how
attractive she really was.  She massaged her breasts harder until
she left red marks in her shimmering skin.  The mirror reflected
her ripe breasts and Amaya understood why men craved them so
much.  They were swollen with her feminine nature, smooth, curved
and perfect.

"Amaya?" Wesley said.

"Yes?" she moaned.

"Take off your panties."

There it was.  It was where Amaya had planned to draw the line
but it was unthinkable now.  She lifted her buttocks and grabbed
the band of her thong, sliding her underwear down to her ankles
before kicking them off.  Sitting back down in the chair, she was
surprised by how wet the seat already was.

"They're off," Amaya said.  Her heart was pounding so hard, she
wondered if he could hear it.

"Good, now pour the lotion into your hands."

"Yes," Amaya said after swallowing.  "I have it in my hands
now."

"Very good.  Now I want you to massage your sex for me, but do
not enter yourself.  Do you understand?"

"Yes," Amaya said.  She jumped as soon as her fingers touched
herself.  She smeared the lotion over her thick bush of hair,
rubbing it into her outer lips.  Her clitoris was emerging from
its hood and Amaya groaned whenever her finger rolled over it.  

"Feeling good?" Wesley asked.

"Oh yes," Amaya said.  

"Do something for me," Wesley said.  "Take both hands rub
straight down the sides of your sex.  Rub up, then down, parallel
to your opening but stay outside."

"Oh!" Amaya moaned.  She could feel a climax waiting on the edge
of her body.  All her thoughts of modesty felt silly now.  The
young woman just wanted to come and soon.

"I think you should get your vibrator," Wesley said.

"Yes!" Amaya hissed.  The backpack was right beside her and Amaya
dug through the pockets till she found the purple vibrator.  She
took it out and thought about covering it with lotion as well.

"Look at yourself in the mirror," Wesley said.  "Can you see your
arousal?"

"Yes," Amaya said.  "My face is flushed.  My eyes seem larger.  I
look kind of like a slut."

"Yes, but a slut for your own body," Wesley said.  "You can't see
your crotch in the mirror, can you?"

"No, do you want me to move?" Amaya said.

"No, but I do want you to watch your face.  Take your vibrator
and put it right on the lips of your sex, but don't enter
yourself just yet."

"Please," Amaya said.  She did as he asked and she could herself
clench inside.  The vibrator was so close and she needed it so
badly.

"Not yet," Wesley said.  "I want you to turn on the vibrator and
run it up and down slowly against your slit."

Wesley was quiet as Amaya moaned.  Up and down, she did as he
commanded and all the time she could feel her climax rising and
falling.  Her reflection showed a young Asian woman with her
mouth open in lust.  Her chest glowed and her nipples were two
dark hard points.  Amaya felt a rush of desire and she realized
it was for herself.  She was a slut for her own body and
curiously, Amaya felt no shame.

"I'm going to let you fuck yourself in a minute," Wesley said. 
He chuckled at her whimper and then continued.  "But first, I
want you to stroke your slit ten times before penetrating
yourself.  I want you to count off your strokes and when you
reach ten, wait for my command.  Can you do all this?"

Amaya nodded before realizing he couldn't see her.  "Yes," she
said and her voice was little more than a whisper.   

"Then start," Wesley said.

Amaya ran the vibrator up her slit, moaning as the vibrations
went straight through her sex and up and down her spine.

"One," she said.

"Two."

"Three."

"Four," she moaned and she shivered.  She had to fight to keep
her thighs from closing on the vibrator.

"Five."

"Six."

"Seven, oh God!" Amaya moaned.  

"Don't come yet," Wesley admonished.

"I am so close!" Amaya whined.

"Just a little longer," Wesley commanded and his stern voice held
Amaya back.

"Eight!" she groaned.  She was using both hands, clenching the
vibrator with white knuckles.

"Nine!" she whimpered.

"Ten!" she said with a send of triumph.  Amaya almost fucked
herself right there but somewhere she found the restraint.  She
stayed perfectly still, the vibrator resting on her wet, wet, wet
sex.

"Do you see yourself in the mirror?" Wesley asked.

Amaya looked and was surprised by how little she recognized the
woman in the mirror.  Her hair was a mess, wet from the sweat and
tension.  The flush of her face was down to her chest, adding to
the colors of her darkened nipples and the shine of the lotion. 
Her glasses were slipping down her nose and Amaya was surprised
the most by the pure lust that was on her face.

"Look at yourself, and slip your vibrator in," Wesley said.

Amaya watched as she penetrated herself until her eyes shut in
bliss.  The vibrator filled her completely.  She fucked herself
with a passion and a force that welled up from deep inside her. 
In the mirror, she could watch her massive breasts jiggling with
the motions of her fucking.  Amaya fucked herself harder, trying
to make her breasts shake faster and faster just to watch them. 
Distracted by her breasts, she had her first climax without
warning.

"Yes!" she yelled into the phone as her body shook.  "Sorry," she
added.

"Don't be," Wesley said.  His voice was strained and Amaya
wondered, no, prayed that he was masturbating too. 

"Keep masturbating," Wesley ordered and Amaya happily obeyed. 
"Deep, even strokes.  Plunge that vibrator hard inside you like I
would.  Fuck your pussy for me because I can't.  I can hear from
here how wet you are."

Amaya blushed as she realized she could hear it too.  Her sex was
wet, and the squishing sounds seemed to echo in the dressing
room.  She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled as she
tried to make the sounds louder, more obscene and more audible. 
She might be a slut for her own body but she wanted to share and
most of all, she wanted to hear Wesley groan as he comes too.

Just the thought of Wesley coming brought about another orgasm. 
Amaya watched her face as she climaxed and she knew deep in her
heart that she was beautiful.  Wesley groaned with her as she
came, but she knew he hadn't come.  Amaya decided he just needed
more encouragement.

"I'm going to come again," Amaya said.  "Are you close?"

"Don't worry about me," Wesley said.  "Just look at yourself. 
Can you squeeze one of your breasts as you masturbate?"

"Of course," Amaya said.  She grabbed on of her golden breasts
and squeezed.  Her nipple was so sensitive to the touch, Amaya
could feel a sock of electricity connecting her nipple to her
sex.  Inspired, she told Wesley about this.

"Do this for me," he said.  "Twist your nipple as you stroke and
tell me when you come."

Twisting her nipple, Amaya clenched as her climax surged.  "I'm
coming!"

"Ride it," Wesley said.  "Ride the bliss of your own body."

She did.  Amaya twisted in her seat as the pleasure swept her. 
The woman in the mirror writhed with Amaya and Amaya felt a fresh
surge of lust.  Amaya wished that Wesley did have a hidden camera
because she never felt as sexual as she did now and she wanted to
preserve the moment forever and ever.

"Now stop," Wesley said.

Amaya moaned but she pulled the vibrator out.

"Put the vibrator back in your backpack," Wesley said.

"We're not done are we?" she asked.

He laughed.  "Yes, we are for today.  You have certainly earned
your money today."

She struggled to regain her breath.  "But did you come?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I will come at my own choosing.  For
now, I am content to listen to you.  Your voice is very beautiful
when you come."

Amaya didn't know what to say.  "Thank you" seemed inadequate for
the feelings she was experiencing.  Her body was alive and
tingling and despite her orgasms, she craved more.  She wanted to
continue but she knew the game well enough to know that asking
would never work.

"You can get dressed now," Wesley said.  "If you look to your
left, there will be a chest.  Open it, and you will find a
package with your name on it.  Inside will be your money and
something for our next game."

"I doubt I could stand," Amaya said and she joined in Wesley's
laughter.

"I'm glad you did enjoy it," Wesley said.  "This game is where
most players drop out.  I can't tell you how glad I was to have
you stay in the game."

"I think I surprised myself with this one," Amaya said.  "To be
honest, I went a lot further than I had planned.  I guess I can
do anything now."

Wesley chuckled.  "Ah Amaya, the thing is, the game gets much
harder from here on out.  Good luck, and have a great day."

He hung up before Amaya could stop him.  What did he mean that
the game was going to get harder?  Were they going to meet soon?
Amaya had a dozen questions and no one to ask.

She did manage to stand though her knees were a little weak. 
Amaya dressed as best she could, moaning as the thong rubbed
against her drenched sex.  She leaned against the table and
touched herself, tempted to take herself again.  Amaya didn't
though.  She knew that any orgasm she could have now wouldn't be
as sweet as when it was with Wesley.  It was hard but she decided
to save herself.

The chest lid was heavy but Amaya got it open.  It was empty
except the package.  Amaya opened it there and swallowed hard at
the contents she found.  The four hundred dollars didn't surprise
her but the other items did.  Amaya picked them up and understood
what Wesley meant by the game getting harder.

One of the items was a simple black blindfold.  That was nothing
compared to the other item.  It was a red paddle, covered in tiny
dimples.  The handle was black leather and fit easily in her
hand.  Amaya ran her hand over the dimples and imagined it
striking her ass.  She shivered, never having been spanked as a
child, she found herself afraid of starting now.

The worse part was, Amaya couldn't honestly say she was scared
enough to quit.

To be continued,

If you enjoyed this story, feel drop to drop me a line at
shonrichards@yahoo.com


  

   



       

                  

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