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From: Shon Richards <shonrichards@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Cell Phone Slave" (4/14) (Mdom/F,Spank, Voyeur)
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Date: Wed, 10 May 2006 11:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Cell Phone Slave 04.doc" begin>

This erotic fourth 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 Part Four"
By Shon Richards



	Amaya had tossed and turned all night.  Her dreams were barely
lucid as images of leather, handcuffs and paddles dominated her
mind.  She imagined being bound and gagged by mysterious men who
hid their faces from her.  They would paddle her like a child,
humiliating her as they called her names.  Amaya dreamed that she
would escape only to willingly seek them out again to be punished
for something she couldn't quite name.

	She awoke shortly before dawn.  It took her a moment to convince
herself that she was awake.  Her pussy was wet and her thong felt
unbearably tight.  Her ass was sore from clenching all night and
she had to consciously relax her buttocks.  The sounds of licking
were coming from across the room and Amaya realized that she had
been dreaming of being licked just moments before.  As the fog of
sleep lifted from her mind, she remembered waking up to her
roommate and her boyfriend slipping in the night before.  

She turned her head quietly towards the source of the noise.  Her
glasses were sitting on the dresser but she could see the scene
before her as plain as day.  Rick was sitting up in the bed with
his hands holding something around his lap.  As the rising sun
peeked through the shades, Amaya saw that what Rick was holding
was Helen's head.  She was bobbing up and down and what could
only be his cock.  Amaya couldn't be sure, because Helen's long
blonde hair was forming a curtain around the action.

Amaya's fingers moved quietly under her covers.  It wasn't even a
question of ethics for her anymore.  She had desires and watching
these two was too much temptation: where was the harm?  Her
fingers moved under her thong and she bit her lip as her
fingertips brushed her clitoris.  Subtly she shifted her thighs
open so as to not alert Rick and Helen.  Neither of them noticed
as Amaya moaned from the filling touch of her fingers.

Helen's hair still obscured Rick's cock but Amaya was more than
happy to watch Rick's face.  He looked so intense as Helen sucked
him.  His mouth was open and he kept shutting his eyes as the
pleasure over took him.  Amaya could picture him in bed, looming
over her with that same expression as he drove himself into her.
His chest was bare too and the muscles she saw were impressive. 
One of his pectoral muscles would flex each time Rick hip's rose
to meet Helen's mouth and Amaya was hypnotized by the display of
tensed power.

It didn't take long for Amaya to climax.  Her heels dug into the
bed as she fought to keep from giving herself away.  She bit her
lip and shut her eyes while her sex clenched tight around her
fingers.  Despite the anxieties of her dreams, Amaya's libido was
on a hair trigger.  She wasn't sure what that said about her but
at the moment, she could care less.

Helen moved her hair from away her face and held it against her
neck.  Amaya stared at the sight of Rick's cock, squirming a
little as she recognized the wet sheen of Helen's spit.  His cock
wasn't huge or unusual but it was real.  After days of
masturbating and playing with a vibrator, Amaya found herself
aching for the flesh that came from a person.  As Rick's cock
disappeared into Helen's mouth, Amaya found herself relaxing her
throat, wishing she could taste him for herself.

"Faster," Rick grunted.

Amaya stroked herself faster at his command although it was Helen
to which he was referring.  It reminded her of Wesley's commands
yesterday and how much she loved masturbating for him.  She
wondered if Wesley would ever command her to suck him.  Yesterday
it had been a fear of hers but right now, watching as Helen moved
faster on faster over Rick's cock, Amaya would have been willing
to suck him and more.  

She came before Rick did and once more she had to stifle her
groans.  There was no need.  Rick was groaning louder now and
Helen's sucking sounds weren't quiet either.  They didn't seem to
care about the noise they were making which bothered Amaya, but
not enough to make her stop masturbating.  The sight of Rick's
intense face, his flexing chest muscles and his wonderful real
cock were payment enough for their rudeness.

"Yes!" Rick exclaimed and Helen's head froze.  Amaya knew he was
ejaculating, expending himself into Helen's mouth.  Oh how she
ached to see that!  All she could do was watch as Rick shuddered
and Helen squeezed his cock with her hands.  Amaya's own hand was
rubbing herself furiously to another climax as she fantasized
about Rick's seed filling her throat.  The fantasy shifted in her
head and it was Wesley's semen in her mouth and then it would
shift back and forth between Rick and Wesley until she was
swallowing both of them.

Helen finally raised her head and Rick's cock fell from her lips.
 "Hush, you'll wake her!"

"Sorry," Rick said and it was clear he wasn't.  Amaya had an
uncomfortable thought that maybe he was trying to wake her up. 
Being a voyeur was one thing, but she wasn't sure how she felt
about being invited to watch.  It was just too confusing to think
about this early in the morning.

"Think we waked her?" Rick asked.

Helen laughed.  "Of course not.  If she did wake up, she would be
screaming at us to stop.  She's probably some sort of eunuch."

Amaya bit hard on her tongue.  Eunuch?  Would Helen think that if
she knew that Amaya had spent yesterday having phone sex in the
theater?

"Eunuch huh?" Rick said.  "Maybe we could educate her."

"Ew!" Helen said.  "She never dates and I've never heard her talk
about guys.  All she likes to do is study.  I bet she doesn't
even masturbate.  You'd have better luck teaching an ice cube."

Rick laughed and whispered something Amaya couldn't hear.  The
couple then covered up with the blankets and kept whispering
until they fell asleep.  Their snores were louder than their
sex.

Amaya couldn't go back to sleep.  She couldn't believe that Helen
thought so low of her.  Her thong was drenched and her fingers
were sticky but her roommate thought she was a sexless eunuch. 
Amaya thought Helen was a brainless slush but what Helen said
still hurt.  It made Amaya feel very alone to think that other
people don't see her as a sexual person.  Part of her wanted to
jump out of bed and tell Helen and Rick about Wesley.  Another
part of her wanted to mount Rick right in front of Helen and show
her how much of a prude Amaya was.  

In the end, Amaya just laid in bed until her alarm went off.  

Amaya's feelings plagued her the rest of the day.  Her classes
couldn't distract her from the events of this morning.  She often
wished Wesley would call her up and give her another task just to
get her mind off of Helen's insults.  Her date with Chris also
crept into her mind.  She wondered if Chris thought she was a
eunuch too and that he just asked her out because he felt sorry
for her or something.  Amaya was used to people treating her a
little differently than others but she had always assumed that it
was because she was half Asian.  Now she was nagged by the
thought that perhaps she was giving off some sort of no-sex vibe
that turned people off.  

It made her think of last night.  Wesley had ordered her to
masturbate for him but for some reason, he didn't jack off
himself.  That shook her confidence more than anything Helen had
said.  Maybe it was just all intellectual to him and that he just
wanted to see how far a poor girl would go for money?  Even as
low as Amaya's self esteem was, she couldn't bring herself to
believe that.  She remembered the purr of his voice yesterday and
she remembered the groans when she described herself.  Still, she
was plagued by doubt and wished he would ask her to do something
to get him off just to remove her doubts once and for all.

All day she carried the paddle in her backpack and now she was no
longer afraid of it.  Earlier she had worried that the paddle
meant that they would be doing bizarre domination games like some
bad Internet porn story but now she hoped Wesley would ask her do
something kinky if just to prove to herself that she was a sexual
person.  Amaya was painfully aware that so far all she had really
done for Wesley was wear sexy lingerie and masturbate.  She felt
a pressure to compete with Helen's promiscuity just to show there
was nothing wrong with her.  It never occurred to Amaya that
Helen wouldn't have the courage to strip in front of her window
or to masturbate in front of a mirror, but then the doubts of
youth were never rational.

The hours passed by without a call from Wesley and her thoughts
turned to her date tomorrow with Chris.  Amaya thought about what
she would wear and mentally went through her wardrobe.  The
insecurities of this morning lingered in her head and everything
she owned that she thought was sexy now seemed immature.  Amaya
wanted to knock Chris's socks off and the anime shirts she owned
didn't seem to cut it.

She was walking out of her biology class when she spotted the
area across the street known as 'downtown'.  It was the name for
a collection of bars that were located near the university and it
was where Helen went almost every night.  Amaya had never
explored that area because she had no interest in learning how to
drink but standing where she was, she noticed that there was a
clothing shop among the bars.  It had never occurred to her that
the dense buildings might contain something other than places to
dance and get drunk.  

Amaya mentally counted her money and knew she could easily afford
a new outfit.  It nagged at her that she wasn't saving the hard
earn money for food but the weeks of living frugally gave her an
inflated sense of her wealth.  This was her chance to buy
something sexy for both her date and her roommate.

The first clothing store she found had dozens of wonderful sexy
outfits but nothing even approaching her size.  The clothes she
found appeared to be made for anorexia victims.  It wasn't as if
Amaya was huge or misshapen.  She was just a bit larger than her
peers and that appeared to be large enough to exclude her from
anything remotely stylish.  

The next store was just as disappointing as were the next and the
next one after that.  Worse than the shrunk clothes were the
snickers from the sales people.  They were all tiny girls who
often didn't bother to try to help Amaya.  It was clear that
nothing would fit her, so why bother to pretend that there was
something here for her?

By the time Amaya had reached the end of downtown, she was about
ready to cry.  It wasn't like she was looking for a pole dancer's
outfit, she just wanted something pretty to wear.  In the course
of an hour, she had gone from feeling sexless to just feeling
fat.  Amaya wanted to run home, go to bed and come out after she
had starved herself.

That was when she found "Pamela's".  Literally at the end of the
street before the city park, Pamela's sat like a dirty secret. 
The display window had mannequins that were shaped like real
people, or as close to real as Amaya had ever seen.  She nearly
squealed with delight at the sight of pants that wouldn't get
snagged around her calves.

The store inside was deserted except for one heavyset woman
reading a romance novel at the counter.  She looked up when Amaya
entered and flashed the newcomer a radiant smile.  The shopkeeper
expressed so much warmth in her smile that Amaya felt like she
had entered a secret club.

Introductions were made and Amaya learned that the older woman
was the Pamela that owned the store.  Pamela sensed Amaya's
relief at finding the store and enquired as to Amaya's needs. 
When she told her that she needed some clothes for a date, Pamela
was only too eager to help.  She commandeered Amaya's choices in
clothes and helped her pick items that were more daring than what
Amaya was used to.

The way Pamela took control of the situation reminded Amaya a lot
of Wesley.  It was as if the older woman had assumed
responsibility for Amaya's date and was using Amaya as a canvas.
It was scary to see how revealing some of the clothes were but
because Pamela was choosing them, it somehow released Amaya of
responsibility.  She surrendered to Pamela's suggestions with a
buzz of excitement, trusting the older woman to steer her right
with the same innate trust she gives Welsey.

By the time she left Pamela's loaded with bags, Amaya had spent
nearly three hundred dollars.  On the long walk home, she
marveled at how she wouldn't refund a cent.  It wasn't the
clothes that she enjoyed as much as she enjoyed being treated
like a sexual woman by Pamela.  She realized that was what
reminded her the most of Wesley.  As she walked home, she
daydreamed about what clothes Wesley would have picked for her if
he was there.  As her fantasies multiplied, the black thong she
wore rubbed her tighter and tighter.

It was six o'clock when she got home and since Wesley hadn't
called yet, Amaya was getting increasingly anxious.  She tried to
hide her anxiety from Helen but she didn't need to put out the
effort.  Helen was too busy ogling the nice clothes Amaya had
bought and the blonde was green with envy as she watched Amaya
very slowly put her clothes away.  Her roommate never asked where
she got the money for the clothes even though Amaya had worked
hard on an alibi.  Amaya was starting to understand that hiding
Wesley from Helen wasn't going to be that difficult after all.  

Eventually Helen decided to go out with her friends.  As soon as
she left, Amaya took out her phone and set it in front of her. 
Wesley had been calling every day and the day was soon ending. 
The shopping experience had been such a boost to her ego that it
had eased her fears over the paddle and the blindfold.  She still
felt like the game had taken too kinky of a turn to continue but
at least with the new clothes, she won't walk away from the game
empty handed.  

Unspoken to even herself was the thought that maybe the game
wouldn't get too kinky after all and that tonight would result in
yet another mind blowing orgasm.  Oh, it crossed her mind but she
wouldn't let herself dwell on it.  Accepting that the game would
be incredible for another night just made her too anxious for the
long wait of the silent phone.

At nine, the phone rang.  Amaya answered it before the first ring
was finished.

"Hello Amaya.  Buy anything interesting today?" 

She paused.  Was he referring to her shopping trip?  Amaya
wondered if he had been watching her.  Instead of being outraged,
she found herself being strangely flattered.  It was nice to be
considered worth spying on.

"I bought some clothes today," Amaya said neutrally.

"Good for you," Wesley said.  "A lovely lady should have plenty
of clothes to show off her beauty."

Amaya blushed at the compliment.  She wished they could just
flirt for the entire hour so she could listen to his soft
Southern voice.  Before she could respond, Wesley was already
moving into the game.

"Yesterday I said that the game was going to become much harder.
I can also promise you that if you keep playing the game, your
life will never be the same again.  The challenges will become
more difficult but you will always have the chance to back out. 
Are you ready for today's game?"

She swallowed.  This was the moment of truth.  "Yes."

"Good, first you need to take the paddle and blindfold and place
them on your bed."

"Done it," Amaya said after a moment.

"Now pull down your shades and then pull down your pants."

That was a little harder.  She was relieved that she was allowed
to pull down her shades but stripping her pants was another
matter.  Wesley was wasting little time and she was pretty
nervous.  Amaya wiggled out of her jeans and noticed that she was
already soaking her black thong.  The thin strip of material in
the back didn't cover her ass at all and considering the
importance of the paddle, Amaya was all too aware of her bare
cheeks.

"Listen very carefully," Wesley said.  "When I tell you to,
unlock your door and then pick up your blindfold.  Walk to your
desk and place one of your larger textbooks on your table.  Put
on your blindfold, and lean forward until you are bent over your
desk.  Put your phone down on the book and hang up.  Place both
hands on either side of the book.  Once you are in this position,
no matter what happens, you are not allowed to lift your hands
from the desk.  If you do, then the game is forfeit.  You will
stay in this position until the phone rings and then you may
answer it.  You are not allowed to speak until the phone rings. 
Do you understand?"

"Yes, I think so," she said.  Her pulse was pounding so hard, it
was difficult to hear his voice over the beating of her own
heart.

"Then do as I ask, and when you hang up the phone, I will know
you are in position."

Amaya first unlocked her dorm door.  That was perhaps the most
difficult task of all.  Her first week in the dorms, she had been
bombarded with safety warnings concerning female students.  She
knew that the only reason Wesley would ask her to do this was so
that she could have a visitor.  Would it be Wesley?  Would it be
someone else?

She knew that she might be sealing her doom but Amaya unlocked
the door.  Her hand shook a little but there was no denying the
wetness soaking her thong.  Amaya knew that her desire was
overwhelming her common sense and it embarrassed her and excited
her at the same time.  Deep inside she felt that Wesley would
finally make his appearance.

On her desk she laid out the book as he commanded.  The blindfold
she picked up off the bed and her eyes lingered on the paddle. 
Amaya kept watching the paddle as she walked over to the desk, as
if the paddle would strike her as soon as she let down her guard.
 She placed the phone on the book and placed her glasses beside
them.  Blinded first by her lack of vision, she slipped the
blindfold over her eyes to completely place her in darkness.  She
leaned forward and placed her hands flat on the desk.  Knowing
she was to be spanked, Amaya moved her feet back until she was
almost completely doubled over.

Before she lost her courage, Amaya felt for the phone and hung it
up.

The waiting began.  Amaya had half expected something to happen
as soon as the line was dead.  When nothing happened except for
the racing of her heart, she started to worry.  Was this the
test?  Was she to stand here for an hour with her pants missing
and her ass exposed to try her patience?  Amaya moaned at the
thought.  She couldn't wait an hour by herself, she just
couldn't!

She thought about how she must look.  He didn't ask her to remove
her shirt but she could feel the weight of her breasts pulling
down.  The black thong was invisible, the back of it stretched
tightly over her anus.  Her cheeks would be completely bare and
Amaya wondered if her ass looked fat.  In her mind she toyed with
her image, spinning it around and around as she realized that
despite her flaws, she couldn't deny how sexual her pose was.   


The door opened, louder than it had ever opened before.  She
didn't hear the door close and she had a terrible panic that her
visitor was leaving it open for anyone to peer at her.  So great
was her fear of being exposed that she didn't hear the footsteps
of her visitor until he was standing right next to her.  A foot
hit the bedpost and Amaya jumped at the sudden noise.  

She stayed bent over though.

Something whistled through the air and Amaya flinched.  Nothing
happened.  The whistling continued and she realized he must be
taking practice swings with the paddle.  For no good reason,
Amaya had a sudden doubt that her visitor was male.  Maybe a
female would slip easier through the girl's floor.  Could Wesley
have sent a woman to spank her?  How would she ever know?

It turns out that Amaya knew as soon as a gloved hand glided over
her ass.  The hand was large, wide and cupped her ass in an
authoritative manner.  It squeezed her ass like it owned her. 
The hand moved to her other cheek and she felt the palm press
against her.  It was a man's hand and the thought that it could
be Wesley himself thrilled her.

The hand moved to her thong and Amaya tensed.  The fingers hooked
under the thin material and pulled.  It was only a light pull but
it was enough to make Amaya moan.  The front of the thong was
right against her sex and when the hand tugged, it rubbed the
flimsy material against her clitoris.  The fingers released her
thong and Amaya's knees were shaking.

She next felt the hand on her back.  Goose pimples ran down her
spine even though she still had her shirt on.  The hand scooped
up her long black hair and wound it into a fist.  She cried out
when the hand pulled sharply on her head but she cut off her cry
for fear of breaking the rules.

For a long minute, nothing happened.  Amaya felt a panic attack
rising.  This was stupid of her.  He could be a killer or a
molester and she was just standing here, bound only by verbal
rules.  She told herself that if anything happened, her hands
were free and she could defend herself but realistically she knew
that a lot could happen before she did anything.  

Amaya was about to rise and quit when she felt something hard and
cold against her buttock.  It was the paddle.  The touch soothed
her rather than frighten her.  The paddle was mundane compared to
her fevered fantasies.  She pushed back into the paddle and
wiggled her hips in invitation.  Spank her.  Spank her as much as
he wanted but just do something!

The paddle rubbed against her buttock in small circles.  Amaya
found herself moving with the paddle; her hips dancing silently
in place.  When the paddle moved to her other cheek, she pushed
back against it again.  The hand tightened in her hair but she
didn't care.  Amaya almost rose to her tiptoes in invitation. 
She didn't know where her reactions were coming from but she was
finding submission much more preferable than fear.

When the paddle moved away completely from her buttocks, Amaya
nearly whimpered in fear.  It was about to happen and though she
had the freedom to move, she felt pinned down by the expectations
of Wesley.  The hand tightened in her hair and her; a slight
distraction of mild pain.

She was ready.

The first blow was quite light on her bottom but still a shock. 
Amaya cried out as the paddle hit her and then instantly blushed.
 The impact was nothing and yet she was squealing like she was
wounded!  A perverse pride welled up inside her and she decided
that she was going to try her best not to appear weak.

The second blow was harder as were the third and fourth.  Her
visitor was spreading the hits around and striking the softer
parts of her bottom.  Some of the spanks struck from under her
ass and Amaya would rise up and choke down her cries. 
Occasionally he would strike the center of her bottom with such
force that she would slump forward before regaining her balance.

His hand never released her hair and each blow from the paddle
forced Amaya to pull against his iron grip.  He had almost all of
her hair in his hand, pulling on her entire scalp with each tug.
She had to keep her head tilted back at all times and she
wondered if he was looking at her face as he spanked her.

After her ass was burning from the initial spanking, he lapsed
into a simple rhythm.  First it would be one light spank, two
fast spanks and then three hard ones before starting over.  Amaya
enjoyed the predictability, tensing for the hard spanks and
almost relaxing into the light ones.  It made the rising heat of
the paddle easier to bear as her buttocks grew increasingly more
and more sensitive.

And oh how the heat spread!  Amaya was amazed by how intense her
bottom was becoming.  Her visitor was covering her entire ass
with blows from the paddle until no inch of her was left
untouched.  At first the hits were frightening but now they were
just pure sensation.  All of her senses were centered on her
round cheeks and the merciless rain of the harsh paddle.

It wasn't long before she reached the limit of her endurance. 
Never having been spanked before, Amaya found the experience
novel at first but the stinging was escalating.  She swayed from
side to side as she unconsciously tried to dodge but the paddle
always found her.  As the sensation increased, Amaya felt fresh
waves of panic rising.  When would he stop?  Could she keep from
resisting him?  How much longer before it just became
unbearable?

Amaya bit her lip as the spanked continued.  He hadn't tried
anything sexual with her but yet she was debating quitting.  The
spanking was increasing and she feared how far it would go.  She
thought about losing Wesley and it scared her but it was not as
frightening as the thought of disappointing him.  The sound of
his voice when she impressed him was always marvelous and Amaya
found herself more addicted to his praise than she was the money.
 Despite the rising pain, she knew that she would endure a
hundred more spanks if it would please him and she didn't know
what that said about her. 

She had tried to be brave and not make any sounds but it became
impossible.  Even the lightest blows from the paddle were pushing
her threshold.  Her first cry was a sharp ejaculation and her
visitor's hand twisted lustfully in her hair.  It was the only
encouragement she needed.  Every smack of the paddle pulled
another cry from her lips.  From low guttural moans to
high-pitched yelps during the hardest strikes, Amaya lost all of
her shame.  Freeing her voice released the pent up emotions and
fears she had been holding inside her all day long.  The
anxieties melted away as she surrendered whole-heartedly to her
ordeal.

The paddling ceased.  Amaya still flinched as she expected a
blow.  Her own breathing was incredibly loud but she could hear
the harsh breathing of her visitor as well.  The entire surface
of her bottom burned and she shifted back and forth as she tried
to soothe herself.  When she moved, she was shocked to discover
that her blindfold was wet from her tears.  Amaya hadn't even
noticed that she had been crying and found herself shocked to be
so out of touch with her body.  

Gentle fingers touched her ass and Amaya hissed in pain.  Light
fingernails traced the lines of her welts but even these feather
touches were too much for her sensitive ass to endure.  His palm
laid flat against her ass and it was a tremendous act of
willpower to keep from screaming.  He let her palm rest there, a
silent tribute to what she had endured.

In the silence of the moment, Amaya realized that she was
sobbing.  It was a good sob though.  She was exhausted but
strangely lightened.  It was as if he had spanked her worries out
of her.  A burning bottom was far more important than a
sniggering roommate or difficulty in finding clothes.  She didn't
understand how she could be feeling so good while her bottom was
aching so much, but Amaya was too grateful to care.

The fingers moved down and between her legs.  Amaya parted her
thighs and moaned as his fingers found her sex.  Back and forth
they rubbed against her thong, teasing the swollen clitoris that
pressed back.  Her arms shook and her lip trembled as the fingers
traced the outline of her sex.  She ground against him; ignoring
the pain in her ass for the sweet release he could give her.

Amaya moaned as the fingers pressed back against her.  The hand
holding her hair twisted again but even that was a delicious
spice to the pleasure his other hand was giving her.  Her ass
burned as she moved into his hand and this too she enjoyed.  He
had brought her body to life with now she was reaping the rewards
between her sweaty thighs.

"Oh!" she cried out when she came but if she broke the rules, her
visitor didn't say.  Her orgasm rushed through her body, and her
knees nearly collapsed on themselves.  As soon as she had come,
he pulled both hands away.  Her hair fell free and even this
light touch on her neck made her shudder.

Footsteps clicked away from her and Amaya nearly begged him to
return.  She kept silent.  When the door closed, she allowed
herself a whimper of disappointment.  Her sex still burned,
almost as hotly as her ass.  A trickle of her desire moved down
her thighs, dripping from her now soaked thong.

The phone rang.  Her voice failed her at first but she managed to
ask her question.

"Was that you?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he said.  In that one word, she could hear how
breathless he was.

"Did you spank me?" Amaya asked.

"Did you enjoy it?" he countered.

"The last part," Amaya said.

"Really?" he said.  "You didn't move with the paddle?  You didn't
moan from the kiss of the spanking?  Your panties didn't drip
from the force of a thrust so close to your sex?"

He was teasing her and she didn't care.  Blindfolded still and
bent over, Amaya was his to toy with.  

"I'm not sure I'm going to be able to stand," Amaya said.

Wesley laughed.  "You amazed me tonight.  You are so brave and so
trusting.  I appreciate the gift of your playing tonight.  Take
off your blindfold and open your present.  You earned it today."

"Do you have to hang up?" Amaya asked.

 "No, but I will be the first to admit that I am not perfect,"
Wesley said.  "If I stay on, then I might be tempted to ask more
than you can give tonight.  Go open your present Amaya, before I
do you a disservice."

With that he hung up.  Amaya stood up in frustration but soon
winced as her welts flared up.  She whipped off the blindfold and
put on her glasses.  Walking over to her mirror, she turned
around and examined herself.  Her jaw dropped at the sight of the
angry pink lines crossing her ass.  She didn't think it was
possible for her ass to turn that shade of red and Amaya had a
bizarre fear of how she would explain it to Helen if she saw it.

A box sitting beside the door caught her eye simply because it
was huge.  Amaya knelt down gingerly beside it and swallowed
hard.  What kind of sex toy could be in here?  What new test was
sitting inside?  

There was a card sitting on top of it.  It depicted a night scene
of stars but there was nothing written inside.  What was inside
was five hundred dollars.  She shook her head over the money,
amazed at how little she cared.  What she really needed was a
good fuck and to find out what was in the box.

The box opened to reveal a plethora of art supplies.  From small
canvases to bottles of paint and bundles of pencils, there was
enough to act on any artistic impulse she might have.  She
recalled the conversation she had with Wesley about her art and
she smiled as she realized how much work and money he had saved
her.  He didn't even know what kind of art she practiced but the
wide range of supplies attempted to cover it all.  

Amaya stood up and let out a deep breathe.  This was a genuinely
nice gift.  There was nothing perverse about it at all.  Did this
mean he was trying to court her?  Or was this a bribe for harsher
games to come?

She leaned against her bed, too sore to sit down, and thought
about it for a long time.

To be continued,

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




 

 

 

     

   

  

    

 



  

  

              

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