Message-ID: <15189eli$9809110131@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/15189.txt> From: np98rb@mail.telepac.pt (Christine & David Stevenson) Subject: Under Control part fifteen of twenty eight Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <35edf269.59972423@news.telepac.pt> Under Control - part fifteen of twenty eight by mailto: VictorBruno@mschristine.com this story remains copyright Victor Bruno, release to publish granted to Christine Stevenson. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - At last it was over and Delia surveyed Paul with considerable satisfaction. Then she sat on the edge of the wooden bench and began to play with him idly once more. Paul's reaction was swift . . . the previous night's debauch seeming to have made no difference, especially now that she had put that razor away. "Do you realise, slave," she said as she squeezed the solid root, "that when I have finished with you, you will not only be unable to have a woman again, but neither will you be able to play with yourself or even have an erection?" Paul regarded her with disbelieving dismay, despite being aware of the pleasure she was giving him. "Oh n-no . . . no . . . mistress . . . ." he gasped. "You c-can't mean it . . . . ." "Oh yes," replied Delia, "indeed I do. In view of that, for my own amusement and pleasure, I have decided that I shall be the last woman you will ever service." Paul's nerves flared. With equal delight and terror, it seemed. Delight of course; for the implication was that at long last he was to have a 'fuck'. But terror, oh such terror! Could she really mean it? At least Gloria had occasionally released him from the restrainer long enough to gain some amusement in 'exercising it', before locking 'it' away again. Cruelly frustrating as that was, it was at least something! "You've got a nice big cock on you," she continued in that casual way of hers, "so I might as well make use of it while it's still big, and still available. Because it's going to shrink soon slave!" "M-Mistress . . . . oohh . . . mistress . . . ." croaked Paul, in almost childlike tones of wonder. The thought that he was actually going to be in a woman again (after what seemed a lifetime), was like wine in his veins. The implications of her words and the horrors that might follow receded into the distance temporarily. Grinning lustfully as she looked down upon her victim, Delia knelt and straddled him. She took his root and ran his knob along the wet-warm cunt lips. "M-Mistress . . . ." he croaked again, every nerve seemingly alight. Delia sank down on to him with a soft sigh. "Don't you dare come till I tell you," she said. "Because I've got the cane ready for you if you do!" Paul did not think he could recall a more ecstatic moment. After all the months of frustration and denial at Gloria's hands, to feel the clinging-melting softness of a luscious young woman again was almost unbearably wonderful. He looked into her face to see lust had transformed her features. "Don't you dare look at me like that, dildo," she cruelly ordered, making it plain that he was there purely for her pleasure. "Eyes submissively lowered, slave," she insisted. He shuddered groaning aloud, aware, through half closed eyes, of Delia's quivering breasts just above his face. Already she had begun to rise and fall on his erect ramrod, with an easy sinuous motion. For a few moments, panic as well as pleasure gripped Paul. How could he endure such delight for long? For as long as Delia wanted? He gritted his teeth and groaned again, summoning all the added strength of will his experiences had given him. Delia moved faster, beginning to pant, and Paul realised that the crisis was at hand for him. He fought with every fibre of his being as Delia jerked convulsively in her first orgasm. How surprisingly quickly it had come, he thought, before remembering for how long he had been titillating her with his tongue. Then, to his infinite relief, as Delia slowed again, sighing softly with content, Paul seemed to gain a new lease of life. Gradually he began to gain the kind of control which was translated into an erection which he felt he could maintain for quite a long time. It was then he became aware of that his previous night's debauch was standing him in good stead. Without those explosions of relief he would never have achieved such a measure of control. For a fleeting moment the idea occurred to him that being without a restrainer the previous night might not have been an accident! He sneaked a glimpse at Delia as if by way of confirmation of the thought. That Delia was overjoyed with the massive solidity of male flesh he was presenting her with, there could be no doubt. You could see it by the lust on her pretty face and the jerking-juddering of her shapely haunches; you could hear it by the repeated gasps and whimpers that came happily from her. A second orgasm . . . And, not much later, a third . . . Her wriggling passage was liquid-velvet hot as it gripped around Paul's upward jerking organ. His brain . . . and his whole being . . . seemed on fire with the fiercest sexual lust he could ever recall. Was that an illusion, caused by long abstinence? Maybe. But what did that matter, it was this experience that counted. At one point he heard Delia panting in his ear. "I . . . I . . . wish I personally . . . owned you . . . s-slave . . . ." she said. Momentarily disloyal, Paul ardently wished so too. For there was no mistaking the implication of the remark, or the way she would make use of him if she had indeed been his owner. As it was, he was Gloria's. Hers were the ultimate decisions. And it seemed that they had already been made. Would that Gloria wanted to use him in this way! "Now . . . NOW!" cried Delia exultantly at last . . . thrashing about like an eel, jerking up and down, breasts bouncing madly. Literally sobbing, Paul unleashed himself . . . the liquid lava of his lust torrenting into Delia who collapsed in a quivering heap upon him. It would, he thought dazedly . . . his mind and being still reeling in complete ecstasy . . . have been a wonderful moment to die. Unfortunately for Paul, no such simple escape was open to him. Other plans had been made and would be carried out! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This story is being released as an illustrated web book, for autoresponder details of Victor Bruno Books available please contact VictorBruno@MsChristine.com http://www.mschristine.com/bruno.html Also published as text simultaneously on...... ------------------------------------------------------ The DOMestic mailing list is free of charge. Subscribe in subject line:- DOMestic@Ms-Christine.com Moderated by David & Christine Stevenson. Subscribe online at http://www.mschristine.com/domestic.html ------------------------------------------------------ -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>