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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: eno-mike.txt (MF, reluc, bdsm)
Authors name: Lady Seyton (nastybabygiri@aol.com)
Story title : Enolah & Mike

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Enolah & Mike (MF, reluc, bdsm)
by Lady Seyton (nastybabygiri@aol.com)

***

A submissive's narcissistic passions give her master a 
new hold over her pleasure and pain.

***

They stood in the front hallway, arguing. An argument was 
nothing new to them but this time Enolah was truly 
puzzled. She knew Mike was in the wrong.

"You disrespected me in front of everyone. Do you want 
people laughing at me?" He was as close to shouting as he 
ever got. Enolah, to whom screaming was just one of her 
many forms of expression, bristled.

"It was a fucking woman," she yelled. "You'd think it was 
your own best friend, the way you carry on. Besides, you 
were looking at her too."

"The fuck I was," he said dangerously. "I forbid you to 
do anything like that ever again."

She narrowed her eyes. "How dare you?" Her volume was 
rising rapidly. "I can do anything I damn well wa-" In a 
movement to swift to see, he grabbed her and shoved a 
very hard red rubber ball gag into her mouth. Not missing 
a beat, she flexed her jaws to spit it out, but he jammed 
his left hand onto her face and his right caught her 
hair, also grabbing the straps of the gag. She struggled, 
kicking, pushing, hitting - and mostly missing him. The 
straps were in place and tightened too quick. Again, she 
flexed her jaws, this time hyperextending to get the ball 
between her teeth. Mike slapped her ass promptly and she 
lost her bite.

"Get moving, you dirty fucking slut." She stood still and 
he shoved her between the shoulders. Stumbling, she 
turned her head to glare. 

"You just don't listen, do you?" He placed his hand on 
the back of her neck and squeezed, propelling her 
forward. She fought all the way, her screams of protest 
considerably muted behind the gag. It was obvious where 
they were going even though it was on the other side of 
the house and down in the basement. He called it The Play 
Room, she called it the chamber of horrors. No matter the 
name, they both loved it.

She didn't fight him going down the stairway and when he 
unlocked the door, he kept firm hold of her upper arm. 
The door was flung open and just as quickly shut behind 
them and he threw her in the general direction of their 
newest acquisition - a brand new gynecologists exam 
table. Slightly modified, of course. 

Enolah didn't waste any time getting her hands on the 
straps in back of her head and was just about to undo the 
first when she felt a sharp sting on the back of her 
hand. Whirling around, she saw him standing slightly 
behind her with a light whip made if horsehair. "You 
cunt," he said simply. Enolah was a little surprised but 
lunged at him all the same. The whip slashed as she 
latched her left hand into his bicep. It was too close 
her her precious face for comfort and she promptly let 
go. 

"For such a smart girl you can be so stupid sometimes." 
The words were mean, but his tone was light. He steered 
her to the gyno table, but had to physically pick her up 
to put her in it. Enolah wasn't about to be punished for 
something she didn't consider wrong. 

He chained her hands in back of the table first. She was 
quick with her fingernails, as he had found in the past. 
Then her legs were pushed up into the stirrups and her 
ankles wound multiple times in rope. It wasn't so bad, 
except she still had on six inch stiletto heels. The soft 
cotton rope bit in slightly and she had to spread her 
legs more than she wanted to make some slack. Not that it 
mattered much. He made quick work of binding her thighs 
wide open, then secured her upper arms. She tugged 
experimentally and found that he'd made slip knots - a 
Mike trademark. The more she struggled, the more they 
would tighten. 

Then she left her and went around the room, lighting fat 
candles on candelabra. Stupidly, all she could think was, 
how romantic. His eyes feasted on her body as he lit ten, 
or maybe a dozen, candles. She felt herself growing wet 
but made a mental note to get back to the argument - as 
soon as she could speak. He came back to the table and 
she failed to notice the extra rope in his hand. 

"Such a pretty body," he commented, running a finger 
lightly down her silk-covered stomach. "Beautiful little 
baby. You think you're beautiful too, don't you?" He 
looked into her eyes. She nodded. It was no secret that 
she was vain, but the question was odd. "Yes," he sighed. 
"Pretty slut." Then he took out a knife. He showed it to 
her and she felt a slight thrill of fear and lust. It was 
only when he put it on her thigh that she noticed the 
rope.

Without preamble, he sliced through her brand new dress, 
a silk shift she'd only worn once. Enolah groaned behind 
the gag, irritated. Underneath she wore only panties, a 
garter belt, and stockings - all black. He scraped the 
flat part of the knife against her right nipple, bringing 
it immediately to hardness. Her left nipple got the same 
treatment and he smiled in satisfaction. He trailed the 
knife tip down her flat stomach and she struggled to 
control the gushing of her pussy.

He positioned the knife between her legs. From her half 
sitting position, she could see it, so close to her cunt. 
He left briefly and returned with a great deal of things 
she was dismayed to see. First were clothespins, wooden 
and plain. Next was duct tape and a roll of white string. 
She didn't have much trouble figuring out what those were 
for but the last item was odd. It was a long, unmounted 
mirror that he propped against the wall. She saw herself, 
spread open, dress cut and draped over the edges of the 
table.

Her nipples were hard and bright red. There was a long 
scratch down her belly from the knife. Her pussy lips 
were already plumping from the erotic treatment and there 
was an obvious wet spot on her panties. Just the mere 
sight of herself made her pussy wetter. 

"Good girl," he said, reaching from in back of the table 
and fondling her breasts. She moaned and watched the 
mirror. He moved around and over her panty clad crotch 
with one large hand and squeezed. She moaned louder and 
tried to arch her hips, only to have the ropes on her 
thighs tighten. She winced and tried to be still under 
his ministrations. He massaged her pussy, rubbing her 
panties into her. She caught a glimpse of her nether lips 
and then his hand covered them once more.

"Why do you want a woman, honey?" His whisper was feather 
soft in her ear. "You love yourself so much, you don't 
need another pussy, do you?" She shook her head blindly, 
only half listening. Then he took the unused length of 
rope off her thigh and let go of her pussy. She moaned in 
protest, but watched the mirror. 

She thought she could see her lips pulsing underneath the 
damp black silk. Then he started wrapping rope around her 
waist and she became alarmed. Never had he tied her so 
thoroughly. She tried to sit up, only to have the rope 
immediately dig in and cut off her air. Squealing, 
conscious again of the ball gag, she laid back into the 
soft bed of the table. Taking small breaths, she waited 
patiently for him to finish. 

"Now, baby," he said, as if speaking to a child. "I'd 
tell you not to move, but I know you never listen to my 
advice. Instead, you figure out what struggling will get 
you. If you're very bad I might even rope your neck. Do 
you understand me?" 

She looked directly into his eyes, the anger screaming 
loud and clear in them and nodded shortly. He smiled and 
patted her thigh. "Good whore," he said cheerfully. "I'll 
be right back, baby." Then he unlocked the door and was 
gone. 

She sighed and laid her head back, gazing at herself in 
the mirror. So that was the game. He would make her wait, 
a few minutes, maybe even an hour, let her get hot and 
wet waiting. A spanking would undoubtably follow, then 
some fantastic and probably violent sex. But the 
clothespins bothered her. The string, the tape - he 
wouldn't just let that go unused. It bothered her even 
more when he opened the door without even a minute 
passing, video camera and tripod in hand. Her eyes 
widened while he set up the camera. He grinned at her.

"Now the fun begins." 

He approached the table again, picking up the knife. 
Without a word, he sliced through her panties. She saw 
her vulva, moist and swollen, saw the blunt edge of the 
knife enter the lips of her pussy and then realized he 
was staring at her. "You're going to want to hold still 
for this, hon." To her utter amazement, he started 
shaving her pussy - with the knife. Mike didn't care for 
complete lack of hair and had said so often enough. 
Unable to help herself, she felt tears fill her eyes and 
spill over. What did it mean? 

The shaving took some time. He was gentle, patient, going 
over the same spot again and again, making it smooth. 
Enolah cried, became horribly aroused, and cried some 
more. At long last the shave was finished. He drew away 
and let her look at herself in the mirror. It had been a 
long time since she'd seen her pussy hairless and 
realized she missed it. Her pussy looked so vulnerable, 
so naked.

He spread her nether lips and she watched the red folds 
expose themselves. Her clit was unmistakably larger, 
highly visible. Her labia was fatter and her cunt muscles 
pulsed and grabbed at nothing but air. She moaned, 
careful not to move. He smiled gently at her and then 
lowered his face close to her vulva.

"I can see how much it turns you on to look at yourself. 
You pant after pussies like a bitch in heat, but really 
all you want is your own. I'll bet you'd look at yourself 
all day if you thought you could get away with it." He 
parted her lips and dipped his tongue in. She nearly flew 
off the gyno table, but was literally choked back down by 
the cruel ropes across her stomach.
Mike made a great show of opening her lips, pushing in a 
finger, rubbing her labia. His tongue flickered briefly 
across her clit. She moaned in ecstasy, desperately 
trying to remain still. Then he brought the dreaded 
clothespins into play.
The first two went on her nipples. She winced and sucked 
in her breath, but didn't move. The sharp pain abated to 
a dull ache and a low, wet throb in her pussy. Then he 
moved lower, once again spreading her lips. She watched, 
her nipples standing high with the clothespins, her pussy 
spread so wide she could see everything. She waited, 
holding her breath for the pain. 

He rubbed his middle finger on her clit, eyes locked with 
hers. Tears of pain to come welled and spilled over as he 
tortured her so deliciously. Occasionally he would look 
down, but mostly he just stared at her face. She was a 
picture of desperation, unable to move, unable to remain 
still. Her vaginal muscles gripped at his finger to no 
avail. Her moans were stifled beneath the gag, pitiful 
and pleading. His face was a wreath of smiles. Oh, how 
she hated him in that moment.

Then the rubbing stopped. She screamed and tried to sit 
up again, sucking in her breath and fighting the ropes. 
Eventually the need to breathe won out over her need to 
come and she relaxed, only to find she could barely 
breath at all now. She was going to have to be careful. 

He took a clothespin in one hand and a fat pussy lip in 
the other. He pinched experimentally, making her yelp and 
then put the pin on. She moaned deeply, the pain intense. 
Once the full pressure was on, it felt as though someone 
had punched a thick needle into the wall of her pussy. He 
kept on, doing the other lip next. When there were three 
excruciating clothespins on each nether lip, he let go. 
He gave a tug to each of the clothespins on her nipples, 
making hot tears course down her face.

Then he quickly and quietly taped the clothespins to each 
side of her thigh, pulling her pussy lips wide open in a 
most agonizing way. Sobbing, she willed away the hurt 
with her mind. Then, unbelievably, she felt his tongue on 
her clit again.

The shock galvanized her, making her struggle again. His 
tongue was an island of pleasure in an ocean of pain. She 
focused on it, feeling the way he pointed it, rubbed her 
clit hard enough that she could feel his taste buds on 
that tiny patch of flesh. Then he gently licked around 
the clothespins, hurting and pleasuring her at the same 
time.

She began to moan and felt the tale tell trickle of 
wetness begin to seep out of her again. His sweet tongue 
and loving lips returned to her clit once more. She 
shuddered in pleasure as he gently mouthed her clit, 
sending waves of heat into the pit of her belly. 

It came as no surprise to her when the licking stopped. 
He cut a piece of string off the roll and deftly tied a 
bow around her clit, making it stand up like a tiny erect 
cock. She was in agonized ecstasy. The pins had lost 
their bite, although she was horribly tender. Her clit 
stood at forced attention and she felt his breath on it. 

"Look at yourself, whore," he commanded. Through a haze 
of tears she looked.

What she saw was miles away from the young woman who had 
so brazenly flirted with some dumb blonde only a few 
hours ago. That same dumb blonde who'd gotten her into so 
much trouble in the first place. The silly cunt who's 
name she couldn't even remember now, who's face she 
couldn't recall. On this examination table she saw a 
weak, red, sweating, tortured caricature of herself. She 
saw her clit, hard and throbbing, her lips cruelly taped 
open. She saw the ropes digging into her thighs, arms, 
belly. She saw her nipples being tied with the string and 
brought down to connect to her clit. In this girl she saw 
a red haze of lust. 

Never in her life had she needed to be fucked so much. 
She wished desperately for Mike's hard, throbbing cock to 
plow into her abused pussy, clothespins and all. To feel 
him plunging deep, tearing her up inside. Oh, how she 
wanted it.

She was about to attempt to vocalize this - through the 
gag, when she saw he had something entirely different in 
store for her. 

"Now then," he said softly. "How about a little pain?" In 
his hand was a bamboo rod. She'd bought it herself at 
Pier 1. 

The blows rained down on her, across her tied and 
tortured tits, on her thighs, her stomach. Worst of all, 
he had an unerring focus on her pussy. Her clit jerked, 
throbbed, came untied. He stopped to tie it again, kissed 
it. He kissed her nipples, now purple, her thighs. 
Passion mixed with pain. She was helpless to do anything 
but watch the welts rise. Starring into the mirror, she 
watched in fascinated horror. She lost count of the blows 
of the rod and of the kisses he bestowed on her. 

Eventually he stopped and was merely kissing her. His 
mouth worked its way back to her pussy, now throbbing and 
at least three times it's normal size from the beatings 
as well as her lust. He licked her sweaty thighs, her 
pinched lips, her labia and her precious clit. Her pain 
melted into the background. 

"Such a delicious morsel," he said. It caught her 
attention only because there had been no sounds in such a 
long while that were nothing but the hard thump of bamboo 
striking flesh. 

He said these words while licking at her clit, so hot and 
aroused that it was near bursting. "But I think to be 
eaten properly, it must first be cooked."

She murmured her assent quietly, delighting in his 
tongue. It was probably a full minute before she realized 
what he'd actually said. Her body lurched forward, the 
bonds cutting in deeply as she squealed in terror. The 
air left her stomach and the sounds stopped, but she 
didn't notice either problem. Cooked! Her mind screamed. 
Cooked!

It was Mike who had to push her down, noticing the 
alarming color of her face. She drew in precious little 
air as the bonds slacked only slightly. Thinking back 
afterwards, she realized that Mike had loosened his 
handiwork a little, otherwise she might have died.

After her breath returned, he resumed kissing her pussy. 
Enolah struggled to remain still, now knowing fully how 
deliciously dangerous her position had become. Her brain 
had shut off completely, leaving her in mindless terror 
and arousal. 

When Mike brought over the first candle she screamed but 
didn't move. Sheer muscular willpower kept her body from 
fighting. The scalding wax dripped over her nipples. Her 
screaming immediately lost energy. The wax coated one 
whole breast. Randomly, she thought about when he was 
lighting them. 

"Enolah, look at the mirror," he said softly. She turned 
her head, her neck rolling bonelessly. Slowly and with 
great care, he set the candle a mere three inches away 
from her pussy. She felt the terrifying heat immediately 
and did try to rise again, but he placed a hand on her 
neck. Now she recalled him shaving her pubic hair. 
Sobbing helplessly, the heat baking her wet pussy, she 
looked away.

There was more wax - five candles of it, pooled by the 
wick and wickedly hot. He dribbled it down her stomach, 
coated her other breast, doused her thighs. The ropes 
were soaked in the process. She screamed each time he wet 
her with the wax and breathed in sensuous relief when the 
heat evaporated and the wax hardened. 
All the time, she was aware of the flame licking at her 
pussy, heating her clit to an unbearable temperature.

In spite of herself, she began watching in the mirror. 
The yellow fire obscured her bound clit, but she could 
see her pussy and inner thighs sweating. There was sweat 
dripping off the table. She realized that her whole body 
was soaked. A hoarse laugh issued from behind the gag. 
Then he poured wax over her pussy mound. 

She yelped and jumped. His hand pressed firmly on her 
waist while he trickled the wax of the next candle into 
her wide-open pussy. She didn't think it had been in her, 
but she found the will to fight again. She struggled, 
slick with wax and sweat, and actually began to slip the 
ropes. Her heels came off and then her ankles were 
suddenly loose. She jerked up and Mike lost his grip on 
her and the candle. The latter fell onto the stone floor, 
dismissed. The ropes cut in firmly on her stomach, but 
Enolah had found the purchase she was looking for. 

As soon as she had found it, she lost it. Mike yanked her 
back in place and gave her a firm "no". The word didn't 
stop her, but the ropes being tightened did. Defeated, 
Enolah slumped back. Mike replaced the candle between her 
legs and dripped wax deep into her pussy. She felt 
punished. 

"Enolah, I'll make you a deal." He was smiling and it was 
then that she noticed he had removed his clothes at some 
point. His cock was in his hand, hard and fiercely 
throbbing. She drooled in appreciation. "Would you like 
to make a deal?" 

Enolah gave a vague nod. 

"If you promise to be good, I'll turn you over. I'll take 
the candle away from your hot little pussy. I'll take the 
ropes off your belly and I'll even take the clothespins 
off. Do you understand? All you need to do is be good."

Enolah nodded gratefully. 

Slowly, Mike took off one clothespin on her nipple, then 
the other. Two large pieces of wax went with them. 
Immediately, her nipples hardened again and there was a 
flood of moisture in her pussy. She moaned. He took off 
the tape, ripping it quickly. She squealed and watched in 
the mirror as her pussy only slightly closed. Puzzled, 
she looked closer.

Then she realized that a huge pool of hardened wax was 
still holding her open. He pulled off each clothespin, 
then kissed everywhere they'd been. She moaned and arched 
her back, forgetting the ropes for a moment. Mike was 
there to hold her down and make sure she didn't hurt 
herself again.

Finally, he took the candle away. She felt some rubbing 
on her pussy and looked down to see him rubbing his hard 
cock against the smooth wax in her pussy. Now that the 
pain was mostly gone, her pussy was coming alive with a 
vengeance. He untied the ropes and, unbelievably, took 
off the horrible ball gag. There were deep bite marks in 
the rubber and, to her dismay, her mouth was bleeding. 
All the same, it felt wonderful to be free.

Mike had to help her roll over - she would've fallen off 
the table otherwise. Weakly, she folded her legs 
underneath her and he lowered the back of the table so 
that it was now flat. She put her head to the cushioned 
surface and waited.
He was there, pulling off pieces of wax from her sides 
and thighs.

Alternately, he licked, caressed and kissed. She felt her 
body relaxing, going limp and yielding to him. He came 
around behind her and pressed his fingers to her wax-
covered pussy, then carefully pulled it all off. She felt 
cool air rush over her and moaned in pleasure.

Then she felt his gentle fingers pressing against her ass 
cheeks. She braced herself for the spanking but as he 
only massaged her, she again relaxed. When his index 
finger pressed against her anus and started making slow, 
sensuous circles against her ass she began to moan again. 

He rubbed her ass, firmly but gently, his hand 
occasionally straying to cup her pussy. Then he whispered 
in her ear, all the things he loved doing to her. He told 
her how much he enjoyed her that night, how much he 
wanted her. Enolah cried quietly, moving rhythmically and 
slowly against his roaming hand. He began rubbing her 
anus again, gaining entrance with a single finger. 
Slowly, he pushed in and pulled out. His other hand went 
to her pussy and gathered moisture there, then caressed 
her clit. She cried and moaned for him, wanting to beg 
but completely unable to find the words. 

With great care, he finally picked her up and carried her 
to the bed in one corner of the basement. He lay her down 
on her back and she spread her legs immediately. He lay 
between them, but didn't try to enter her yet. Instead, 
he held her, kissed her mouth, told her how proud he was. 
She arched her hips to him and whimpered, tears streaming 
down her face. 

"Tell me what you want, baby," he whispered, rubbing his 
cock at the smooth entrance of her pussy. She moaned, 
frustrated. "Tell me," he insisted.

After much struggling, "love me, fuck me," was what came 
out in a throaty, pained voice. He did both.

The entry of his cock was painful, beautiful, erotic. Her 
pussy was raw and warped with pain. She felt everything. 
Every vein in his cock, his pubic hair against her bald 
pussy, his balls pressing gently against her. She came 
instantly, crying out his name in a broken voice. As he 
increased his tempo she came again, very hard and very 
sudden. Her pussy was full of live nerves, every one of 
them on fire. Without being aware of it, she wrapped her 
legs around his waist and held on, her body finding the 
reserves to meet his every thrust. 

She lost count of the orgasms he gave her, falling into 
oblivion. She was aware that he pressed his index finger 
into her ass again, that her ankles were around his neck, 
that she was watching his cock slew in and out of her 
slick pussy. He was speaking, or so she thought. When he 
finally came she spent the last of her strength using her 
legs to pull him back down to her. Her fingernails dug 
into his back and neck and he pulled her hair. The 
kissed, hot explosive, as he pumped her pussy full of his 
come. 

When she collapsed back on the bed, she felt his hands on 
her, gentle and stroking. Then the world simply fell away 
for a while.

END

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 18