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From: benwaymd@aol.com (Benway MD)
Subject: {slave Kas} NEW: Masterless Night, pt.1 (publ, exh, mf, ff, mff, bdsm)
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Masterless Night<br><BR>
I, by order, am to "create" two real life situations (or "stories") a month for
my Keeper while he is away. I am to get myself into some kind of sexually
charged situation and report back to him. These stories are to be designed to
turn him on, and eventually lead him to orgasm. I never seem to have a problem
starting trouble when he is gone, regardless of where I go, and so this story
details my latest endeavor to drive him over the edge. <br><BR>
This Friday night, however, January 15th, 1999, was a little different from the
rest. Master was not in a position to be reached by phone, having spent a
weekend in San Diego with his ex-, far away from me. You see, usually Dr.
Benway travels through one of these nights with me, and I call him by phone for
permission to commit various wrongdoings. This was not the case on this night,
and so I felt somewhat alone. While I know he thinks of me always, and I of
him, my routine was altered, and I was lost. My first goal therefore became to
submerge and drown my insufferable pain and Masterless discomfort. The result
was that this night I wound up letting my inhibitions fade just a little more
than usual. <br><BR>
(Note: This story was originally penned by Slave Kas as something of a
punishment. Before the evening detailed below commenced, I had not defined for
my pet her limits in her endeavors to please me. When we spoke the next
morning, I was somewhat upset at just how far my pet had actually taken things
without my permission. Because I couldn't speak with her on the phone
throughout the evening, I did not feel as wholly a part of the situation as I
usually do, and this bothered me. Thus she was required to write this to "make
it mine". My pet was devastated that she had misbehaved so and had hurt me.
The result was a less-than-detailed, albeit well written, account of the
evening's activities, obviously toned down, despite my warnings against this,
in a slave's vain attempts to soothe her Master's hurt feelings. While a
severe punishment awaited her for this, I took this opportunity to demonstrate
to her, by utilizing the outline and much of the original text of her story, to
show her how a good slave should write for her Master. The resultant text is
therefore an amalgam of our writing, the vast majority of which was written by
me.) <br><BR>
I prepared for what I knew would be a slutty evening by dressing in a way that
I know my Master likes. I slipped on thigh-high stockings, a short, pleated
plaid mini skirt that barely covers my ass (my Naughty-Catholic-Schoolgirl
skirt as Benway calls it), a black velvet thong (I know, I know), and a
sleeveless black sweater that leaves my pierced abdomen bare. I'd already had
on my slave bracelet, and a silver chain necklace clung tightly to my throat.
Going out knowing I looked like I needed to get fucked, but without my Master
there, sent tremors through me as I drove to pick up my best friend Dana.
<br><BR>
Dana and I have, in the distant past, had a playfully "mild" sexual
relationship; but our friendship has always been first. However now that she
is married to Troy we don't ever fool around, and I really don't get to see her
much. In fact, we haven't gotten together at all since I've been collared. I
walked into her house to find her husband asleep on the couch, and her in the
bathroom getting ready. She's never seen me with colored hair, and she's
certainly not used to seeing me dressing so revealing, and her jaw just about
dropped. She was already intoxicated with alcohol, but when I saw her eyes
caress by body, she became even more drunk, and I new that I had her hooked on
the drug of my sex instantly. Her arms went around my waist; her warm hands
probed and squeezed the flesh of my midriff; she parted and moistened her lips;
I offered her my tongue; she kissed me softly. I pictured Master watching,
stroking his cock in approval, urging me on. My body obediently moved forward,
pelvis first toward responsive pelvis, and my pussy glistened in response. Her
hand crept under my mini-skirt and found the exposed curves of my ass. She
squeezed and a soft moan escaped my lips. She lifted the hem and took a step
backward to inspect her prize. Her fingers boldly hooked beneath the elastic
of my thong, and pulled them aside. She smiled at the sight of what was
obviously a well-groomed, naked sex before her. I blushed as her uninvited but
welcome finger briefly inserted itself into my already wet pussy. Our night
was underway, and my grief began to thaw. <br><BR>
We then went to pick up Zach, one of Boulder's self-proclaimed most eligible
bachelors. Dana and I have both known him for a while, and he is admittedly a
little crazy and twisted. I used to be scared of him for just that reason, but
I have since discovered that I am more torqued than he'll ever be, so I am now
able to deal with him as easily as a babysitter does an attention-starved
pubescent child. We all got high in his small bachelor pad, large pane glass
windows opening us up to the world. No doubt he'd spent many an evening gazing
into the windows across the way, lights on, cock in hand, stroking for the
neighbors to see. Wait, would he really do that, or was I just projecting? I
began to feel unusually horny. I'd <i>swear</i> that pot was laced. I felt
crazy, wild, sexy, and it was in the air of this room. The world was my
oyster, and the only thing missing was my beloved Master. Stoned, I
absentmindedly drifted towards the window and caressed my breasts through the
soft fabric of my sweater. A couple of people could have seen me...a couple at
a kitchen table eating, an elderly gentleman reading the paper, and a college
aged boy watching what really looked to me like pornos. I wanted him, I wanted
them, to watch <i>me</i>. A twinge of excitement shot through me, and I
removed my hands from my tits, now somehow exposed, and seated myself in a
chair where I would still be able to see outside, and my future friends might
still be able to see me. <br><BR>
Relaxing there in this foreign apartment, stoned, confused, helpless, and wet,
I suddenly felt something strange begin to happen. It felt as though there
were hands, real hands, all too familiar, stroking the insides of my thighs.
Master? I looked down in disbelief but my eyes did nothing to confirm this
unusual reality. Benway's strong arms were nowhere to be seen. Dana and Zach
were clear across the room, so it was not they who touched me either. They
were chatting quietly with each other, smiling. I turned my head away and
looked down at my naked thighs, which continued to enjoy my Master's touch. I
slid forward in my chair a little, going with the feeling, and my skirt rode up
I was in another world. I looked back across the room. My friends continued
their conversation, but now all four eyes were directed towards me. They
looked at me hungrily. They seemed to be mentally undressing me, devouring me,
lapping me up and down like canine tongues, from snow capped head to leather
clad heel; drinking in my sex like parched animals. How long had they been
watching me? Did they see my performance at the window? The attention drove me
even wilder. I suddenly wanted their eyes to fuck me. I wanted their pupils
to rape me. I wanted my friends' lids stapled open to watch me being invisibly
molested, until they came furiously from looking at me. <br><BR>
Just then I felt the invisible hands begin to push, gently, outward. My legs
began to ease themselves open slowly. My friends sat hypnotized, astonished:
was this their innocent friend exposing herself before them, undulating on the
chair? They kept talking but I knew they knew not what they said now, for every
ounce of their beings was focused on me. I felt I was inside them, I felt
Benway was inside of me, and he was controlling all of us. The trance
continued as I willed Zach's hand towards his cock, to stroke it through his
jeans, to stroke it for me. He moved his cock rhythmically up and down to a
beat synchronous with that of my throbbing pussy. Then I drove Dana's hand to
her pussy, to cup her mound and slide it up and down to the same rhythm. The
site of his strong bulge there, straining the rough denim, and her small,
married hands absently fondling herself in front of us both, drove my legs
further apart. Something was welling up inside of me. All speech stopped.
Benway lifted my knees roughly to the sides of the chair. My legs flopped
further apart. My hips lifted off the cushion and I pushed my pussy towards my
friends. It must have been quite a site, but I couldn't see, neither my body
nor my eyes were my own-they belonged entirely to my Master. I humped the air
like a bitch. Guttural moans escaped my mouth and broke the silence that had
developed. Like an obscene chorus my comrades chimed in, soprano and bass,
allegro cum. I yelped and pushed and humped and yelped and fucked the air
where I thought Benway's cock was hiding. My pussy was open, exposed to my
friends, thrusting up and down. My hands molested my breasts and tugged
roughly on my pierced nipples. My tongue darted in and out of my mouth,
sucking and licking invisible cocks and pussies like some drugged slut. Zach
pumped his denim phallus and his hips rose as well. Dana frigged her clit and
slapped her pussy with abandon. All eyes on me, with my pussy wide open and
throbbing, I felt so fucking hot, so open, so exposed. "Yeah baby, come," one
of them said in encouragement. And then it happened: my face twisted, my body
shook, and with a deafening scream and without touching my sex at all, I came
and came and came. Liquid squirted out of me in a dense stream, onto the chair
and onto the floor and onto my thighs (and onto Zach's foot). My hips jerked
uncontrollably. My hands squeezed my breasts harder than I remember them ever
being squeezed. An embarrassing and perverse sound came from my mouth that
most nearly resembled the cries of a lonely elderly woman, mourning without
reserve at the casket of her newly deceased husband. And it was wet
everywhere. <br><BR>
It wasn't until minutes later (hours? days?), when I felt a cool breeze chill
me between my legs, that I finally came to. I now realized that it was my open
legs (so obscenely far spread apart that my wet pussy lips had exposed
themselves beyond my soiled panties) that had allowed the air to nip me and
awaken me. The eyes were still glued to my reddened pussy. I snapped my
thighs closed. The trance broke. Zach's hand fell to the side of his own wet
jeans, no doubt moist with his own cum. Dana acted like she was looking for
something that had fallen between her legs, no doubt her orgasm as well. I
got up and the eyes followed me to the door. I looked to the window. Sure
enough, there was the college kid with pants at his thighs, stiff cock in hand,
sticking his obnoxious tongue out at me in cunnilinguatory appreciation. I
bent over briefly and lifted my skirt and spread my ass. From between my legs
I saw his face twist and his cum splatter the window. "Wow!" Dana said.
Soaking wet three, we were off to the club. <br><BR>
I have a two-seater sports car, so traveling with friends proves to be a
challenge. Married Dana improvised the only way possible and sat on Zach's wet
lap, touching his face, and commenting on his close shave. No sooner had my
delinquent heater begun to warm the car, than Zach's hands immediately found
their way to Dana's breasts, and my world heated up even more. Zach was feeling
her up as I drove, and the two now acted as though I wasn't even there, let
alone had just pissed all over his house in front of his neighbor. Now I
should explain, Dana is getting a breast reduction in April: her D+ sized tits
give her back problems, and so her goal until then, so she says, is to let the
whole world enjoy them before they disappear. It turned me on immensely
watching them: two of my attractive friends getting it on in my passenger seat.
I could only look over ever so often to avoid crashing on the icy roads, so I
had only a fragmented picture of what was happening, like memories. Sounds
guided my attention to them as my mind rushed to fill in the gaps. She moaned.
His hands slipped under her cropped sweater. He grunted. Her small hand was
cupping his balls. She moaned. Exposed nipples pinched, aching. He grunted.
The shaft of his denim cock surrounded by warm fingers. She moaned. Another
hand now, below her waist, covered in the fabric of her jeans, strained. He
grunted. I thought his jeans might burst the seams, a perfect silhouette of
cock. She moaned. Her pussy ground into him in an amateur's lap dance. A
honk. To the right, two college-age kids signaled their approval at a traffic
light. A tussle. A delighted Dana pressed her tortured breasts against the
cold window for her audience. A moan. This one mine, as my hand felt for the
moisture between my legs. A slurp. Dana took my finger and brought it
teasingly to her mouth, then put it between the lips of her oppressor, her eyes
fixed on the two boys the entire time. <i>They have tasted me.</i> A screech.
Our car magically moves forward. Another moan. Mine again. There is a man
and a woman's finger inside me. His large, dirty, rough. Hers soft, delicate,
and in the right spot. A long pause. His moves down and traces over my anus.
I slide forward. He enters. Pain: a second finger in my ass! I want them
deeper. Dana's fingers pinch my clit. Oh God I'm going to come again! A
whisper: Benway. "Stop the car, pet you are here." A sigh. Fingers
extricate. We were now at the bar. <br><BR>
The Yard is a gay club with a great dance floor. The usual clientele is about
80% gay men, but on this night there were many couples and tons of attractive
females, dressed to kill. Still I was the least dressed of all of them.
Surprised? Eyes followed me as we went to the bar, on our way to starting on
our obligatory alcohol intake, in an attempt to melt away still more of my
dwindling sadness. We sat, and we talked. I am, by order, commanded to sit at
the bar with my legs facing away from it, spread. It doesn't usually take long
on a Friday night to get a little attention in this posture. This weekend was
no different. Several men, several women, and a few couples, strolled not so
casually by, catching glimpses of my shaved pussy, airing out still beyond the
sides of my perpetually soaked panties and now wet skirt. I felt a trickle of
moisture run down my inner thigh, and had to curb a serious urge not to wipe
the embarrassing streak away. Right about that time, one particularly brash
and faceless onlooker had the nerve to drop his cocktail napkin right before my
stool (lame!). He crouched to a knee, and looked directly between my legs. My
muscles contracted in an attempt to close my legs; but then I felt the hands.
Benway's hands. They pushed me open, and forcefully! What a fucking little
slut! I just <i>opened<i> my bare pussy to this stranger. His eyes met mine
for a brief instant and I reflexively looked away, trying to do my best to be
comfortable with my helpless situation. I felt the stranger's breath, hot on my
legs, warming the cool from the pee. I felt his eyes dig into me, probing me
mercilessly. I listened to him inhale like he was sucking on a million-dollar
joint, getting high off my musk. I heard him moan his approval as my hips
involuntarily inched forward. Then, after what felt like hours of him
examining me, in front of my friends, in a way that felt more thorough and
erotic than any gynecologist had ever done, on his knees in front of me in this
crowded bar-turned-doctor's-office, his hand grasped my thigh! He was lifting
himself up from the ground and using me as a prop. As he stood, his hand slid
further up my thigh, and his body slid toward me. I turned to see none other
than Benway behind him, guiding the stranger's arm towards my sex. Can I be
this stoned? Dana, was this pot laced? Benway is that you? Is it ok that he
touch me? Just as his fingers brushed against my opening and parted my lips,
and I thought I'd lose all control, our other friend, Charlie, approached us at
the bar. Charlie is an imposing figure--some six feet of Native Indian--and he
did not look happy. The stranger promptly removed his wet digit and fled off
to the periphery, leaving me even more turned on. I shook my head vigorously,
trying to clear it, and resumed talking with my friends as if nothing had
happened. We talked about my Master, and everyone asked about his well being.
My friends all know that, in a daze or not, that's the one thing I love to and
can always talk about, and can bring me back from any beyond. <br><BR>
But now it was time to dance. We moved en masse to the back of the club, Dana
leading me by the hand. She guided me out onto the dance floor, where I saw
two attractive girls dancing together. Both had chestnut brown hair, were
thin, and were dressed quite nicely. They had the look of professional women
who'd just gotten off work and desperately needed release. Leather pumps bound
their feet, sheer stockings secured their muscular legs, hemmed mini-skirts
confined tight asses, until fragile silk blouses finally revealed the real
women underneath: successful, fragile lace bras pleaded audibly for release
from their 9-to-5 constraints. I had a feeling I could help as they eyed us
approaching. (I should mention that this was a real treat at the Yard, as most
of the women who frequent there are no more than big, burly, masculine dykes:
angry, aggressive, and unfriendly.) I began to move around the dance floor,
twirling freely in contrast to my future friends, letting my skirt fly every
which way but down. I saw the girls watching me, along with a man in a well-cut
suit who stood behind the more attractive one. They were talking secretively
while eyeing me, and all of a sudden I felt nervous. "You're getting an
audience, girl," Zach said as he danced around me. I pushed back into him,
preferring his better known warm comfort to the unknown and perhaps cold
criticisms of my observers. I closed my eyes and allowed his hands to roam my
body, displaying it like a prize for my critics. Behind closed lids, I found
their approval. Zach's approval was apparent from what I felt pushing into me
from behind. His stiff cock parted my ass some through a layer of jeans and
skirt, and my legs conceded to help him in more by dancing apart. I felt
Dana's hands reach around from behind Zach to caress and then pull my hair
violently back. Lost transiently in a world of my ass, his cock, my hair, her
hands, and an approving hug from my now omnipresent Master, I opened my eyes to
find Zach wasn't the only one playing this game. Directly in front of me now
was the attractive brunette. Her breasts just inches from mine. Her suit was
manipulating her breasts for me and for her and for my friends. He pushed her
forward. His hands were rough and unskilled, nothing like my Keeper's. They
manipulated her tender breasts above her silk shirt and what I could now see
was a white lace demi-bra. Large brown nipples were now visible to me, and the
suit's thumb and forefinger offered them to me, an apology for the inquietude
he had caused me only moments ago. A quick look away before I dove toward my
prize: our audience had grown. Geeky single men moved awkwardly nearby, jaws
agape. Couples looked towards our dance-floor orgy and pressed closer to each
other. Overcome with all the stimulation, I kissed the brunette's neck. It
tasted like fruit. I licked her neck and she ripened, neck arched back. I bit
her neck, I wanted a real taste. She moaned imperceptibly and bent her head
back down, her hair falling over my face and hers like a private shroud, thus
empowering me in the little kingdom her chestnut locks made for me. I bit and
I chewed and I sucked. I pressed my breasts into her. I wanted to mark this
uptight little bitch with my teeth. She ground her pelvis into me with
approval. I sucked and I sucked and I bit and I gnawed and I had the perverse
notion I wouldn't be happy until I drew blood. I couldn't have chewed on her
harder, and she couldn't have loved it more. I looked up for a moment and saw
the blood-red hickey I had made on her neck. She was mine. She pulled my head
back to her neck. She held me tight. She moved against me with abandon,
without regard to the world around us. Her vocalizations were now audible, and
becoming more frequent. She was going to cum, this pent-up little bitch, and I
was going to enjoy it. Her pussy slammed into me, nearly knocking us all over.
I thrust back. I could feel her warmth, I could feel my moisture. We humped
back and forth in an obscene Lambada line-dance: pussy against pussy, crotch
against ass. But then, fingers! The suit's fingers were on my tits! My shirt
was up! How long had it been like that? Who had done it? I became angered at
this knave invading our private kingdom. I looked about and found the same
crowd nodding in approval at the sight of my pierced breasts dangling in the
cool club breeze, and smiling at the performance that had been my carnivorous
neck-flesh feast. I looked down and my skirt was up, the sides of my legs
exposed: my ass hidden only by a denim phallus, my pussy covered only with a
$100 blue khaki skirt (now wet too). Shit. Asshole. I pushed them back and
stepped away. She didn't deserve to cum by my touch anyway. It was time to go
smoke and refill our drink supply either way. <br><BR>
Charlie, Dana and I went into the gazebo, Zach went and got our drinks, and I
whipped out my camera-in-a-box. I took a picture of a few of my friends, and
then a man (a dance floor flunky?) took the camera roughly from me and told me
to get into the picture. I obediently laid on top of all my friends, pulled up
my top, and spread my legs. We snapped pictures left and right. This brought
the attention of two new brunettes--San Francisco funky--and the people they
were with. The two girls, who'd seen the show on the dance floor, now I guess
assumed I was free meat for any woman, and crowded near me. They dared to touch
me with no more foreplay than, "You got us both really hot out there...You like
women, don't you?...What's that, a slave bracelet? Jena look at this...she's a
little slut...you like to be touched in front of others don't you?...you like
this?" And with that the taller, sexier one, Shannon, giggled and pulled up my
shirt in front of my friends, and pinched my nipples hard. I could do nothing
but smile and moan. Her friend reached between my legs and inserted a finger
unceremoniously into my pussy, already sopping, sopping wet from their talk.
"This little bitch is so wet...I bet she peed her pants like a little girl,"
and they laughed together. Assuming I was "with" Zach, they asked him how he
handled me: "She is a wild woman, how do you keep up with her?" they asked.
"He doesn't, and he can't. Only one man can keep up with me," I finally was
inspired to pipe up, and I realized then just how true this statement was.
<br><BR>
I always think of my Master, and can't anymore picture life without him; but at
this moment I realized exactly what it is that he does for me. He knows how to
touch me, when to touch me, what to say to me, what I want to hear, what I am
in the mood for, how to make me unspeakably happy, and, maybe most
significantly, when I am in need of some serious punishment. Like right about
now. It struck me at this moment that, as good as it felt being accosted by
these two women, that absolutely no other man nor woman would ever be able to
keep up with me and make me happy. No one else but my Master could ever fit
over me as perfectly as he does like a finely oiled leather glove. I thought
of how lucky I am to have such a charismatic and Herculean glove as Dr. Benway.
<br><BR>
I asked the two brunettes if I could take a picture with them, and they readily
agreed, making room for me in between them. I tossed a leg over each of them,
pulled up my shirt, and grabbed the girl on my left,
while the girl on the right assaulted my chest. Shannon kept whispering to me
that I was beautiful, that I was her slut tonight, and she would make me cry
and cum and cum and cry. She made me feel so warm. She kept complimenting me
over and over: "You are so New York, so wild, and you have the sexiest
stomach...I love women", she hummed as she played with my hair. Horny beyond
belief, we all returned to the dance floor (my playground), and Prince was
playing (he often brings out my wild side, as if I needed any help). Shannon
was in front of me, dancing closely, and Jena was behind me. Jena's husband
(?) danced behind her. He kept attempting to put a hand on my hip, but I would
brush it away, and move closer to Shannon. Zach danced behind Shannon, rubbing
her chest, Charlie behind Zach, and Dana behind the (?) husband. We all moved
together to the music in one big orgy, moving down low to the ground, then
rising again. Shannon put one hand up my shirt and pulled my nipple rings, her
other hand going to my hair, pulling it again as she'd seen I liked. I jerked
my head back so I could feel the delicious pain even more. Jena, behind me,
moaned, and I turned around to look at her. Her husband was rubbing her pussy.
A finger or two kept breaking away to probe my ass under the elastic of my
thong. I moved my ass back to his touch, signaling approval. He advanced his
finger, stroking up and down my crack. I stood a little higher up on my
tiptoes to guide his fingers to my rear prize. He got the message right away
and without any further warning, broke the ring of my sphincter, and slid
effortlessly deep inside me. Shannon bowed her head and began chewing on my
nipples, her hand still pulling at my hair. My body was aflame in pain from
all sides. But my pussy. Benway came to the rescue and guided Zach to the
small space between Shannon and I, where he found my clit. He pinched it like
I've only known one man, my Keeper, ever to do. I realized Benway, for the
moment, was in him, touching me. I looked to Zach's eyes, which I swear were
once brown, and Master's baby blues gazed back lovingly. Charlie's hands
disappeared between Zach and Shannon, and I saw Master's eyes close: Charlie
was pumping his cock. This is what sent me over the edge this time. Here I
was, throbbing all over: my pussy throbbed, my head throbbed, my tits throbbed,
and my ass just fucking hurt (husband (?) was reaming me back and forth); all
going on while I watched my Keeper being jerked-off by another man. Jena
reached around and covered my eyes with her hands and I was lost. No longer on
the dance floor, I was in Benway's brothel, his champion slut. I moaned,
loudly. Benway always loves to hear me. My new friends were no exception.
Their attentions grew more furious. I moved back and forth, a slave to the
thousands of caresses and abuses. My shirt was up, my skirt was up, and I was
on the dance floor getting fucked. I was the perfect slut! I started to moan
even more loudly until what was coming out of my mouth once again could only be
considered a scream. The music stopped and the DJ was saying something, but it
was drowned out with the cries of my passion. People must have been horrified.
But oh God, I was coming again! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! I broke away from
the group, and collapsed to the floor. My legs were splayed out, my skirt was
up past my waist, and my top was nowhere to be found. A circle of mostly
unknown male faces gathered around me. I looked up in a daze and saw their
hands touching their cocks and looking down at me in pure lust. A lamed
animal, I was about to be consumed. Shannon broke through and reached down to
help me up and cover me. She turned me around (facing the masses-one last
glimpse boys!) and put my sweater over my head, dressing me as a mother does a
young child for school. Dana stood across the dance floor and watched me,
shaking her head and smiling ear to ear. Zach now stood some 6 feet away:
"What has happened to you?" He asked. "Nothing", I replied, "I am just in
love". <br><BR>
"Tell me what he does for you, tell me how he fucks you" Zach said when we made
it back to the table. "He fucks me like no other will ever be able to do," I
answered briefly, in order to escape further conversation, "He's been fucking
me all night." <br><BR>
part 2 coming....
you can see more of me and my stories at my website:
http://www.mxxx.com/users/benway/default.html
I am a 24/7 25yo slave to my Master, Dr. Benway
Always interested in meeting new people!
--
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