Message-ID: <53812asstr$1147011001@assm.asstr.org>
From: Zen Master <zm@weitampaSPAMBLOCK.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Conversation About Steve by Zen Master (MF Ds (oral) nosex)
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Date: Sun, 07 May 2006 10:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


(This is a flash from a storyline I haven't published yet, so of course
the characters mean nothing.  Still, it's a good intro to the "Shirley
and Mike" story, whatever I finally call it...)

A Conversation About Steve
by Zen Master - Seeking Enlightenment through Bondage
(MF Ds (oral) nosex)

    "Here, honey, have another glass of wine, and undo another button."
    "Thank you, dear.  Will you hold my titties for a second?  Here, I'll
hold your glass.  Oh, that feels good.  You don't have to get me drunk
to take advantage of me, you know."
    "It's still fun, though.  Are you having a good time?"
    "Of course!  Although, this party is a good deal, um, quieter than
most places you take me."
    "You're right.  Let me know if you want to liven it up, some.  Should
I have you show our host that you forgot all your underwear?"
    "Dear, I never forget my underwear.  I made a conscious decision to
not get a spanking tonight.  Rule #6 is 'i will not wear clothing
without permission from my Master', right?"
    "Let me check.  Hmm.  Did one of the rules say that you always had to
be wet?"
    "No, dear.  It's not a rule.  It just happens.  Can you lean me
against the wall and fuck me?"
    "No, it's too messy, and some of the people here just wouldn't
understand your needs.  I'll let you blow me later.  By the way, I want
you to circulate, and let me know if you see anyone who knows you're my
fucktoy.  I hate seeing you bored."

    ------------------------------

    "Here, honey, have another glass of wine."
    "Thank you, dear.  Why are you getting me drunk?"
    "Well, I just saw Steve, and I had an idea.  You know how he's always
talking you down?"
    "It's okay, dear.  I don't mind."
    "Well, _I_ mind.  It's okay for _me_ to tell you that you're a
worthless, worn-out old hag, but you shouldn't have to hear it from
anyone else.  As far as the world is concerned, you're a beautiful and
delightful lady who for some inexplicable reason chooses to slum with a
younger man.  Speaking of which, have you seen anyone here that you know?"
    "It depends on what you mean, dear.  I've met several of the people
here, but I don't think that any of them know all the things I do for you."
    "Good.  Here's what I want you to do tonight.  I want you to distract
Steve a few times.  Nothing too blatant, but rub your chest against him
as you squeeze past him in the hall and make sure he realizes you aren't
wearing a bra; lean over for something and hold onto his ass for
balance; you know what to do.  God knows you've driven me crazy enough
times doing that stuff."
    "I love you, Master.  I live to drive you crazy.  So, no putting his
hand under my dress and showing him how wet I am.  Okay, what else?"
    "Then, when people start to leave, I want you catch Steve when there
are other people listening, and ask him for a ride home.  Tell him that
I'm staying late, and you've got things to do.  He's a nice guy, and he
won't be able to say no in front of his friends.  Give him a good hug.
After that, though, tone it down to just being comfortable with him.
He's your boyfriend's good friend, and he's doing you a favor."
    "Okay."
    "Alright, you remember everything you did the night I got back, after
going out of town for a week last month?"
    "Of course, dear.  I do that every time you come back to me.  I
_want_ you to have trouble staying away from me.  You know I can't sleep
without touching you.  We prove that every time you tie me up and leave
me all night.  It's not being tied up, it's spending the night without
you that makes me frantic.  I need you, Master.  Can I suck your dick yet?"
    "Not now, dammit.  I'm trying to give you instructions."
    "I can suck your dick while you talk, I do it all the time.  I'll
make it fast.  Besides, I can nod my head."
    "In a minute.  Let me finish this."
    "Okay.  I can lick my lips and pout."
    "Well, there's really not much more to say.  I want you to do the
same things for Steve that you do for me when I've been gone:  As soon
as he's on the road, take your blouse off and toss it in the back seat.
  Tell him that you don't want to cause any trouble, but you can't give
him head with your blouse on; it might get stained."
    "Is that the reason for that rule?  I always thought it was because
you like playing with my titties!"
    "I _love_ playing with your titties.  They're the nicest pair I've
ever owned.  The rule is more basic, though.  Giving head is an act of
submission.  You are performing a task for someone else's pleasure.  You
get nothing out of it, except a snack.  You uncover your breasts as a
symbol of your submission; you are offering them to the man you are
blowing so that he can enjoy playing with them as you suck him off.  You
know that!"
    "Yes, Master.  You've told me that many times.  On the other hand, I
don't wear clothes anyway, unless you make me, and I _love_ having you
touch me.  I look at a blowjob as a way to please you, but also as
permission to undress again.  I - excuse me, Master, your submissive
fucktoy - would prefer to be nude if there is a chance that her owner
will look at her or touch her."
    "You know, I'm glad you're crazy.  You might leave me if you were sane."
    "I'm glad you made me your slave.  I was never happy until you did
that.  Thank you, Master, for making me your slave.  Would you like to
shove your dick up my ass now?"
    "Enough!  I'm going to mess my pants if you don't stop.  You're
right, a blowjob won't take long.  Let's see if we can find an empty
room....."

    ------------------------------

    "Okay, now that I can think, Steve's going to be like a deer in the
headlights when you take your blouse off.  If you tell him it's to keep
it from getting stained while you gobble his chicken, you're talking
about clothes while he stares at your tits, and he never even gets a
chance to think about the blowjob before you ask him to pull off into a
parking lot."
    "After you clean him up, I want you to just snuggle with him while he
drives you home.  I'm sure you can get him to donate one hand to your tits."
    "Do you want me to invite him in?"
    "No, when he gets you to our house, you're going to apologize for not
being clear earlier.  You are spending the night with him, at _his_
house.  You're sorry, you feel embarrassed and stupid, and if there is
_anything_ you can do to make up for it, you will do it.  Kiss his
cheek, then lay on your back with your head in his lap, and pull your
skirt up to your waist.  You shouldn't have any trouble getting him to
play with your pussy, either."
    "Do you want me to fuck him?"
    "That's a rhetorical question, my love, and it doesn't need an
answer.  Let him decide who gets on top.  Do it however he wants, just
make sure that he comes in your snatch.  Let him stay there however long
he wants, and then lick him clean when he pulls out.  After that, I want
you to get him up again and have him fuck your ass.  He should be
willing to sleep after that, though.  You'll spend the night keeping his
dick warm with your mouth."
    "In the morning, I want you to wake him up with a blowjob, and be his
toilet.  Follow him around as he gets ready for work, keeping him
company the way you do me.  When he goes into the bathroom to shave,
you'll be there to make sure he doesn't pee in the toilet.  When he gets
in the shower, wash his back and any other part of his body that he
wants help with, but don't wash yourself.  Tell him you need to be able
to show me that both your pussy and ass got filled.  When he sits down
to eat breakfast, you'll be under the table trying to get another load.
  You won't eat anything else."
    "When he gets ready to leave for work, have him take you home, and
put your skirt on so you don't mess up his car, but don't put your
blouse back on until you get home and are ready to get out of the car.
I'm sure he'll enjoy playing with your tits again while he drives."

    "When you get out, though, I want you to ask him if he still has
trouble understanding why I spend so much money on jewelry for you."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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