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From: dbetger@tiac.net (Donnie B.)
Subject: {A.S.S.} NEW! Owning Corey (A different sort of D/S story) Part 6 of 9
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Message from the author:
Please don't read this story.  You're far too young and it's 
got grown-up stuff in it.  If you read it, you could get in 
trouble, and so could I, and then I wouldn't be able to post 
more stories for you not to read.

This work of fiction is the property of its author and may not be
used for profit without written permission.  Otherwise, you may
reproduce and distribute it unmodified, or place it in an electronic
archive, if this notice is attached.




                        Owning Corey 


         Fiction Copyright (c) 1997 by Don Boettger




                           9.

Roller coaster.  Corey was giving me a ride on one, but I was
starting to understand that it wasn't deliberate.  I was just
experiencing a sort of contact high from the ups and downs she
was going through herself.  One clue was the way she kept
flipping moods.  For example: during the flight home she barely
spoke, but in the lingerie shop she'd chatted happily with the
clerk.  We were downstairs at the washing machine when she
opened up again.

We were both naked, and I was still coming down from that
incredible pinnacle.  I watched as she stooped down with the
load of wet things and tossed them in the dryer, and thought of
the way it had ended.

Corey had taken my whole load in her mouth and swallowed.  No
other lover (not that I'd had terribly many) had done that on
her own initiative and I'd never dared to ask.  Then, as my
heart raced and my mind floundered, she'd held my shaft in her
mouth, lips sealed just behind the glans, and suckled softly
until my flow stopped completely.  A final painting with her
tongue was the crowning touch, giving me several soft throbs of
post-orgasmic pleasure.  Then, meeting and holding my gaze,
she'd wiped up a little glob that had slid from the corner of
her mouth and dribbled down to her jaw line, and then put that
glistening finger into her mouth and said "Mmmm!"

How on earth is a man supposed to respond to that?  I guess I
should have kissed her, or at least thanked her, but just then
the washing machine buzzed and broke the spell.

It had seemed natural to slip my pants off instead of closing
them up, and that decision made, I'd shed the rest of my
clothes.  Only one thing was still bothering me, so I'd made her
take off the collar ("It hides your lovely neck," was my
justification).  Now Corey was loading the last batch of things
into the washer while I stood back and watched her in a very
literal afterglow.

She glanced back at me and grinned.  "What're you thinking?" she
asked in a little-girl voice I hadn't heard her use before.

"Just savoring the feeling of having just had the greatest blow
job in history," I said, not aware of any exaggeration.

She laughed.  "I know I can do better next time."

"No, please," I said in mock terror.  "Better than that could be
fatal."

She gave a huge squeal and hugged me.  "I'm so glad you liked
it.  I owe you so much."

"Wrong, wrong, wrong!  First, you don't owe me a damn thing. 
Second, I won't accept your body as currency for any debt.  If
you want to be with me, well, I think you already know how
attractive you are and I don't mean just physically, so yes, I'd
be very happy if you and I become lovers... er, I guess at this
point I should say, continue to be lovers.  But if it happens it
has to be by choice, out of mutual attraction, not because you
think you owe me."

"Oh, quit griping and hug me."

"Ohhh, do I have to?"  We shared a chuckle; I felt hers deep in
my chest.

"Umm, actually, Corey, I owe you something -- an apology.  I
should have given you a heads-up before coming in your mouth
like that.  I won't let that happen again, I promise."

"Huh?"  She sounded puzzled.  "What are you saying?  You wanted
to do it on my face?"

Ah, right.  She had no concept of the usual courtesies of
lovemaking.  She'd gone from naivete direct to slavery.  I tried
to explain.  "A lot of women don't like to have men ejaculate in
their mouths, Corey.  They don't like the taste, or it makes
them feel degraded, or both."

"Oh," she said, somewhat taken aback.  "So I... so Jack..."

"Yeah.  It was just another of his ways to dominate you.  It was
wrong for me to do it too."

Corey put her hands on my shoulders and pushed back, making a
little space between our faces.  "But you liked it, right?"

"Oh, yes.  I liked it."

"Well," she said, jutting out her chin a bit, "so did I.  Case
closed."  Those incredible eyes.  "Actually, you taste a lot
different from him.  Much nicer.  He tasted like dirty feet and
stale beer.  Yours was... sort of sweet, and only a little bit
sharp-tasting.  So you don't have to apologize.  In fact," she
said, reaching between us and grasping my soft shaft, "as soon
as you're ready, you can give me another sample."

Oh, God.  I could barely stand up.  I said, "That may take a
while.  Meantime, how's about I return the favor?"

"What'cha got in mind?"

"Well, let's get you hiked up on the top of this nice warm
dryer, and I'll just show you!"

Corey dropped her chin and looked at me out of the top of her
eyes, a big, openmouthed smile on her face.  "What is this?" she
said as I helped her up.  The dryer was vibrating softly, and
some buttons were making a rhythmic click-clack, click-clack
inside.  Her knees were tight against my waist.  I reached back
and eased them apart.

"What're you going to do?"

Come on, I thought.  You of all people should not play coy.  Or
do you really not know that oral sex can go both ways?  I kissed
my way down her torso, taking some long moments to arouse her
nipples, leaving each one stiff and erect and cold from the
saliva.  Next stop: navel.  Hers was complicated, sort of a
lunar crater, an innie in the middle surrounded by a ridge of
outie almost all the way around.  She laughed.  "That tickles."

"Tickles bad or tickles good?"

"Good!  Good!"  

I cracked up and gave it a great noisy kiss.  Then I moved on. 
"Oh," she said when I reached her mons.  "Oh!" she repeated when
my lips found the bare skin further down.  Funny, no stubble. 
Had she been shaving?  "Oh, God!" she said when my tongue
started swirling.  In a few moments I had to grab her hips to
keep in contact, and her voice had left words far behind.  Each
little gasp, moan, and soft cry was like music, very advanced
and subtle music like the best choirs sing.  She was flooding; I
found that I had to swallow too.  The taste was sweet, and only
a little bit sharp.  I added some fingers to the orchestra, and
was rewarded with more notes in the chorus.  Her fingers were
knotted in my hair, but I didn't care.  Her heels pounded my
back, and it felt good.  I could only just hear her screams
because of her thighs squeezing tight over my ears.  

I didn't stop until those legs finally relaxed and her voice
dropped back to sighs.

"Oh.  Oh.  Oh.  Oh."  I had moved back, and started leaning in
to give a quick soft kiss, then back out, then in again.  I blew
on the moisture and she gave a long sigh.  "Oh.  Thank you.  Oh."

That's when I noticed the fading welts, and brought up a finger
to trace them softly.  She made a funny, strangled sound, and I
looked up to see tears on her cheeks.  "Corey?"

"No, it isn't you, it was wonderful, everything's fine."

I kept looking up at her, raising an eyebrow.  "Sometimes it
helps to talk about it," I suggested.

She shuddered, whether as the final throb of her orgasm or from
some other feeling I couldn't tell.  She stroked her fingers
through my hair, soothing the poor abused roots.  Finally, it
came out.  "That first day.  My very first day as a slave."

I waited, rising to stand in front of her, running my palms down
her shoulders and arms until I found her hands and engulfed them.

"I... I told you he made me suck him, that I didn't understand. 
He forced me, holding my head with both hands and fucking my
mouth.  He went deep, all the way in, and it made me gag and
choke and I thought I'd throw up but now I was so scared of him
I knew I didn't dare.  And then I saw the camera flash and I
knew he was taking pictures of it.  I was crying and crying.

"Then he came, in my mouth of course, and I really did gag.  I
didn't even know what it was at first, I thought maybe I'd
vomited a little or something.  My jaw sort of spasmed, I really
didn't mean to, but I bit him, pretty hard I guess 'cause he let
out a bloody big yell and shoved me back and down really hard.

"I was sobbing and choking and drooling come and I thought I was
the most miserable creature on earth until about three seconds
later, after he checked his pud to see if it was still there I
guess, when he hauled off and hit me.  In the face, backhand. 
It cut my lip on the inside, and now I had a mouthful of blood
to go with the semen."

I drew her hands together between her breasts, raised them to my
lips and kissed the knuckles softly.

"Oh, that was just the beginning.  He grabbed my hair and pulled
me along as he almost ran into the bedroom -- it was the same
one you slept in -- I had to sort of crab along on palms and
toes to keep up with him.  He lifted me, still by the hair, and
tossed me on the bed.  Then he grabbed a mess of ties from the
closet and used a couple to tie my wrists to the bedposts, way
out wide and tight, so I was sort of half sitting up.  I was so
scared and confused.  I think I struggled, but he was way too
strong.

"Next thing he did was tie a tie around my thigh down by the
knee, and then he pulled it way up and out and tied the other
end to my elbow, and then did the same thing on the other side,
so I was spread wide open.  I thought, oh, sweet Jesus, this is
it.  I'm about to be raped.  I prayed that it wouldn't hurt too
much.  I was still a virgin, did I tell you that?  I'd let a
couple boys touch me, but I'd never had anything bigger than a
finger in there.

"But he didn't rape me, not yet.  Instead he pulled off his
belt.  I think I started begging then, telling him to go ahead
and rape me but please, please don't hurt me.  He just got up on
the bed in front of me and started swinging that belt as hard as
he could.  He hit me everywhere, shoulders, breasts, face,
stomach, legs -- everywhere except, you know where.  He was
saving that.

"I was screaming by then, and crying and begging in between the
blows, promising to obey, to be good.  He said, 'I haven't
finished your lesson yet, bitch.'  He took another tie and
shoved it into my mouth so I couldn't scream as loud.  And then
he laid that belt between my legs.

"'This,' he said, 'is to teach you never to bite me.'  And he
slashed down full force, right on my vagina.  I'd never felt any
pain like it, even when I broke my arm as a kid.  'This is to
teach you never to hurt me any other way.'  And he repeated the
stroke.  It was so strange to be screaming and not to hear any
sounds coming out."

I was hugging her now.  Her arms were trembling around my back. 
Mine were stroking her neck and hair gently, gently.  She
continued, right into my ear.

"It went on and on.  Every one felt worse than the last.  My
eyes hurt because I was crying but there were no tears coming
out anymore.  I kept thinking, oh God, please take me, why do
you let me suffer like this?  Take me to heaven."

I hugged her hard.  I felt her nipples, erect against my chest. 
The dryer kept humming and vibrating.  She hugged me with her
thighs as well as her arms.

"And then it happened.  Through all the pain I felt something
else, something... I didn't understand at all.  I was a good
little Christian girl, I never played with myself.  But now
there was warmth, and some sort of blazing sweetness, on top of
the pain.  I thought Jesus had heard my prayer, that I was dying
and going to heaven.

"Actually, I was coming.  He'd beaten me to an orgasm.  It was
so...  I can't explain it.  Even now.  I hated it, I loved it, I
wanted more, I wanted to kill him.  He kept on hitting, hitting,
hitting.  I had another climax, and this time I just let
everything go.  Everything.  I started pissing all over him, the
bed, myself.  That stopped him, finally.  He swore at me and
walked out and left me there, sitting in that puddle, throbbing
in pain and shame and the afterglow."

I ran my hands up and down her back, ever so softly.  There were
tears wetting our cheeks where they snuggled together.  I knew
nothing I could say would be better than silence.

"He left me a long time.  I was able to spit out the gag after I
worked at it for awhile.  I knew I'd never dream of defying him
again.  He'd won.  I was bad and deserved it.  I had to be bad,
or it never would have happened.  This was my punishment."

"No, Corey."

"Oh, I know, I see that now.  It was Jack, not me.  But you have
to understand, it was the only conclusion I could reach, the way
I'd been brought up.  And there was something else, too.  I
figured out that I'd had an orgasm, and, well, naturally I
wanted more.  I had to admit that.  I knew enough about sex to
realize that people didn't have to get whipped to have one, too,
but somehow, well, even in my schools they taught us about
Pavlov and conditioning.  I don't know if it was true, or if I
just thought it might be true, but I began to worry I'd never be
able to come without the pain, now that I'd had it that way."

"I think we've put that to rest, at least."

She hugged me hard.  "I've never told anybody about this," she
whispered.

"Of course not.  You wouldn't tell Jack, and who else could you
talk to?"

"Exactly.  I'm sorry to dump this on you, though."

"Nonsense.  I'm glad you trust me enough.  It must be very hard
to talk about."

"I couldn't even think about it for a long time, I just shut it
out, pushed aside the feelings when they came up.  And they did
come up, all the time."

"Did it ever happen again?  Not the beating, I know he kept
doing that.  But the coming from being beaten -- did that happen
again?"

Corey relaxed her hold on me and squirmed a little.

"Yes," she whispered.  "Many times.  Do you hate me?"

I answered that with a kiss, which she returned with great
intensity.

"One more question and then I'll never ask about this again,
Corey.  Did Jack know?"

Corey drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "I don't think
so.  I tried hard to keep it secret.  God, I don't know what
he'd have done if he found out.  Beat me more to make me come,
just to humiliate me?  Or stop beating me there?  He didn't like
it when I had orgasms.  He said my job was to give him pleasure,
and coming distracted me from that.  He had a point."

"That's purely twisted."

"No, I think it's logical, from his point of view.  But I
suppose the whole point of view was twisted."

"You got that right."

We were nose to nose now, holding each other easily.  "Sir?" she
said.

"Yes, Corey?"

"It's very good to know I don't have to be whipped to have
orgasms."

"I'm sure you always knew that."

"Yes.  In theory.  But until now I couldn't do it."

"Would you like some more orgasms?"

"Yes, please, Sir."

"Shall I lick you again?"

"I was hoping for something else."

"Like this?"  My shaft had been hard for a while, but I'd kept
it pressed against the dryer, figuring she'd be disgusted at the
arousal her story had produced.  Now I moved and released it,
and it nestled happily along the line of her lips.

"Mmmm-hmmm, that's just what I was thinking."  She rocked
forward and back, sliding along it.

"Corey, you are the most incredible, the sexiest woman I've ever
met."

"I guess Jack trained me pretty well, then, huh?

"I'd like it a lot if we never had to bring up his name again,
but I suppose that's hopeless."

"I have to face it, he's the most important influence in my life
so far.  But maybe that's changing," she said thoughtfully.

My heart leapt, and I could see in her face that she felt it
through the surge in my cock.  "Come on, woman.  Race you
upstairs."

"What's wrong with right here?" she protested, but I was already
dragging her down from the dryer, taking the stairs two at a
time, pulling her along by the hand.  At the top I headed for
her room, but she yanked hard on my arm, spinning me around and
grabbing my neck.  Our mouths met with a hard click of tooth on
tooth, and the kiss was hungry, needy.  I grabbed her shoulders
and pushed her back against the hallway wall.  "Mmmph!" she
said.  I put one arm on either side of her, trapping her.  "Oh!"
I drove my hips forward, thrusting at her.  She broke from my
mouth and said, "Yes!" and arched up, meeting thrust with
thrust.  On a sudden impulse I grabbed her waist and spun her,
pushing her cheek against the cool plaster.  She arched her back
and rolled her hips, presenting herself, arms crossed along the
wall over her head.  "Yes!" she repeated as I held my penis
below the head and ran it along her slot.  "Yes!" again as I
slid it in, slowly, teasing.  "Yessss!" as she pushed herself
back and absorbed it all.  And, a few frenzied moments later,
"Yesssssss!" when her wild spasms drew a matching explosion from
me.  And then, "Ohhhh, yes," as our bodies remained joined in
the heart-hammering slide back down from the peak.

My hands wandered around her breasts and belly, the wet tangled
fur, the bare skin further below.

"I am your slave."  The words were soft but perfectly distinct.

I wanted to protest.  I wanted to be her Lincoln.  I wanted us
to be equals, worshippers of one another.  I opened my mouth to
tell her: I am your slave, too.

What I heard my own voice say was, "I am your master."

"Yesssss!"

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