Bedroom Eyes 1

Note:

1`. This continues the Night Vision saga, with a new title since our cast is inside, now.

2. This actually fits the prompt, because it’s something that happened about nine years ago. I’ve changed names to protect the wonderful, and changed a few other details. But this was a peak experience, from within the last ten years.

Bedroom Eyes1

I opened the back door and stood back as if I were a polite man, so that Stephanie could lead the way, prowling on her hands and knees. It wasn’t politeness, of course. I just wanted to watch her ass.

I said, because there are times a dom can’t help himself, and for me just saying it comes with an incredibly powerful wave of affection and lust, “Good girl, Stephanie.”

She looked at me, I guess wondering whether I was in any position to decide whether she was good or not. A naked Stephanie is very obviously a girl, and she couldn’t have had any doubt that I could judge that part of it. Only her “goodness” was in question.

Then she looked back down at the carpet, so there she’d decided not to challenge my judgment, or my right to be so ridiculously patronising. She’d decided that she’d play along and do as I said. So she was a good girl. I reached down and stroked her face, then put my fingers where she could kiss them. She did. I said, “Good girl,” again. 

Where we were, just inside the back door, there was no one around. I reached my hand back from her mouth and smacked her arse, hard. I said, “Mush!”

Stephanie skittered a little, like a pony might, then began to crawl towards the main corridor. We could hear people there. Her arrival in that corridor was going to be noticed. She knew she was a hot girl even with her clothes on, and so she knew that my male guests in particular were going to notice her.

I said, “You know the way to my room. Go.” And I smacked her again. This time she accepted it with no skittering or protest, and began to crawl, half prowling and half shuffling, to the door of my room. I had a thought. “Keep your head down, girl.” I smacked her again. I was too happy not to. 

There were about a dozen people in the corridor, one couple kissing, and two groups of five. They looked at Stephanie first, and then at me. They’d seen me do weird stuff before. Most of them didn’t know about me and bdsm, so I guess they just took it as theatre.

I said, “Second door on the left, Maureen.” (I called her Maureen because it wasn’t her name. Most people are terrible witnesses, and most of the guys, and the women for that matter, were looking at the naked, crawling girl’s body, not her face. So using the name “Maureen” might give Stephanie a kind of privacy. There’d probably be gossip about this, but it would involve a Maureen.)

I noticed that her face was now red as I’ve ever seen anyone’s. This was exhibitionism on a grand scale, and mildly humiliating. It seemed that she liked those two things very much. 

But she shuffled quickly forward to my doorway, and made the left turn inside. There were four idiots (I say this affectionately) standing in my room wasting good party time by standing around and talking about Gramsci. They saw me, with a naked girl at my feet, and took the hint. There was a couple on my bed talking. I’d hoped they’d get together, and they clearly had. Unfortunately, they’d have to consummate somewhere else.

I said, “I’m sorry to chuck you out. But I need the room. Sorry, John, sorry, Lena.” But they broke up, Lena laughing at me because she knew about me and bdsm. They left, arm in arm. I shut the door behind them, and pushed Stephanie’s scarlet face down to the carpet.

“Keep your ass high, Stephanie. Knees apart. Spread your arms out so your upper body is on the carpet.”

Stephanie made a little moaning noise, that wasn’t a protest, and obeyed. She looked spectacularly, nakedly and rudely offered. Sexually offered.

She said, “Am I still good?” so I smacked her again. She waited, watching me from the floor while I undressed. She was smiling. 

I took a condom from my wallet. I put it on. Then I knelt behind her and put my hands on her hips. “Carpet burns, darling. You’re about to get serious carpet burns.” 

Night Vision 7

Stephanie had just sucked me off, sitting prettily and naked on one of the park swings. She’d just announced that that had been fun, and she wanted to do it again. I don’t know about other men, but that wasn’t an option for me. Not for a while. But even if it had been, I was pretty sure we should be leaving the park.

“There’s a fifty-fifty chance that bastard called the cops,” I said. “We should get gone now. If they do show up, this’ll involve more explanation than I feel like doing. So, girl, home.”

I pulled her up out of her seat and smacked her bottom. Every time I’d smacked her arse so far I’d had a positive response, so I wasn’t being careful any more. It was a lusty smack, loud enough to be heard across the park.

I liked the effect it had on her arse, and her eyes. She looked at me as if I were a marvel. I didn’t think I was, but her gaze still felt good. And it made me want to try to be a marvel.

We walked to the road, till we were one step out of the light. Stephanie was naked.

I had underpants and a shirt on. And I had Stephanie’s shorts and knickers in my hand. She said, “Er, can I have..?”

“Of course not. You run when– What’s the signal?”

“You. You smack my bottom?”

I smacked her hard, then, and let her start first, so I could follow and watch her. There were no lights in the street on except at my place. The party was still going but it was quieter. I don’t think anyone saw us run across the road.

When we got inside my gate I held her tight, rubbing her back and thighs briskly to get her warm. Her arse was already warm, but I couldn’t help giving it plenty of attention too. We kissed, long, and deep. Stephanie sighed. She was having a strange, fun night.

I let her stand there, though, while I put my jeans on, and held her clothes in my left hand. I kissed her again, smiling wolfishly to let her know something terrible was coming. Then I smacked her again and led her to the back door. Someone had seized control of the sound system, and was playing old Cure songs. I reached for the door handle. 

Stephanie said, “I can’t walk naked to your room! People will see!”

“Oh, you won’t be walking. Naked girl, well spanked, on her hands and knees, crawling to heel. No one’s even going to notice. Well, they won’t really notice you, I mean, who you are.”

Stephanie drew in a breath. Her face was already red, though not unhappy. She breathed, “I see.”

I kissed her again. “Just do as you’re told. It’ll be hot. You’ll see.”

Night Vision 6

Stephanie picked herself off the ground, after her post-orgasmic descent of the slide, while some good citizen, who must have heard her coming and then loudly protesting that I was an utter bastard, switched his front lights on. A second later he opened his door. I could see him, but he couldn’t see us. Stephanie was all for running back to my place, naked as she was. But I joined her, carrying her little white shorts and even littler white panties. She whispered, “There’s… people.”

I whispered, “And you thought they’d lose interest if you ran naked across the road to my place?” Then I smacked her pale, moonlit arse, firmly enough to be felt, but light enough for the sound not to travel.

Stephanie gave me frowns. She wasn’t calm yet. “Well, what else..?”

“We disappear for a bit. Come with me.” I took her hand and led her back to the swings. They were in darkness, protected from the street lights by trees and the corner of a wall. Stephanie looked at me with disbelief, and more frowns. So I smacked her bottom again.

“Sit.”

“You’re crazy.” But she sat in the swing.

“Good girl. Now spread your thighs.” Stephanie obeyed. She’d left a landing strip of short, fairish hair above her cunt. She knew I’d think her cunt was pretty, even in the murky depths of our twilight.  

I smiled. “That’s a hot little cunt. You need to be fucked soon, don’t you?”

“Glad you noticed. Ow!” The Ow! was because, her bottom out of reach, I’d squeezed her nipple. She held on to the chains on either side of the swing’s wooden seat. She made no attempt to protect her nipple. If I thought she needed a small, measured portion of pain, obviously that was for me to decide.

I said, “Now put your hands on your cunt. Both hands, Steph. Don’t worry, you won’t need to hang on. I mean, not to the swing.”

Stephanie put her hands down, and, when I nodded, began to stroke herself, faster and harder than I would have. I waited till she made her first gasp, almost silently, and took hold of the chains. I tugged my underpants down a little so my cock flicked free, more or less at her nose. “Now open your mouth, girl.” 

She opened wide, and took in my cock, then tightened her lips on the shaft, sucking hard. Enthusiastically. I let the swing do the work, mostly keeping still while her body rocked back and forth on the seat, her mouth taking my cock deeper and then almost-but-not-quite releasing. Time past, while she stroked herself and pleasured me. She made another small, happy whine, and suddenly I let go of one of the chains, and pressed the back of her head, making her take all of my cock into her mouth and throat. 

I began to move at last, fucking her mouth hard. At one stage she choked, but I didn’t let her draw back. She coughed once, then again, and then took my cock as deep as it would go. Hungrily. This was more than Stephanie being a good girl demonstrating her skills; this was Stephanie enjoying herself.

She made another pleasured sound, and I put both hands on her shoulders, letting her choose how deep my cock would go, but pumping my hips, fucking her mouth hard. I wanted her to feel me taking my own pleasure with no consideration for her. I figured – no, I knew – she’d like that.

Usually I give some sort of spoken warning, but it was clear that Stephanie didn’t need it. I made one thin nasal moan, trying my best to keep the sound down, and came in her, cock pumping, spurting deep in her throat, my body in spasm. I had to grab the swing’s chains to stop myself falling over.  

Stephanie swallowed, running her tongue along and around my cock. I wanted to say things, and breathe hard, but I was still aware that there was a guy out of his front porch, listening. Not, I judged, that he could hear us. He’d be worried about vandalism, not sex, but I was reasonably sure he’d disapprove of sex too. It was inappropriate in a children’s park, even at one in the morning. 

Stephanie stopped licking and swallowing my cock clean, eventually, and looked up at me. There was a little drool of my come and her saliva, down from the left corner of her mouth. She licked it away quickly, and something about that sight, and the movement of her tongue made my cock twitch in her mouth.  

The light went out, and the front door closed. I withdrew from her mouth, though I was still half-hard. Stephanie smiled. “I thought he’d never fuck off. Um, shall we? Again?”

Night Vision 5

So Stephanie waited, bending over the apex of the slide, naked now, her shorts dropped on the ground below. Her face pressed down against the cold metal of the chute, her ass prettily presented for me. I slipped my fingers between wet, petalled folds, and began to stroke her again. 

Stephanie said, “Oh, I don’t think I got anything more.” But I smacked her bottom again, because I wanted to make it clear that all sorts of things weren’t really up to her. Not for the time being, and that a second orgasm was one of those things. She laughed, for reasons of her own, and then sighed when I resumed working my fingers against sweet soft wetness. 

I put my thumb against her asshole and pressed a little, and got another sigh. She tightened her muscles on my thumb: I took that as clasping me, not trying to force me out. She sighed again, and I decided I was right about that. 

I kept that pressure, and kept the rhythm of my fingers in her absolutely steady, neither fast now slow, not speeding up or slowing down. Her buttocks had clenched, and she rolled her hips to keep pressed against my hand. Her vocal noises were still sighs, but higher pitched, enthusiastic sighs.

I said, “I have. More, I mean. I’m going to fuck you so hard, little Stephanie, when we get back.”

Her foot twitched. She was no longer standing on the steps, letting her tummy take all of her weight. She made a nasal sound, and carolled, “fuuuuuuck!”, partly in answer to what I’d said, and partly for other good reasons. 

The sound she made when she came, that second time, was like the greatest expression of fear and grief you could imagine, except that it was clearly loudly and absolutely joyous. Her feet and thighs lifted clear of the steps, so that I had to grab her and hold her while she came, or else she’d have slid remorselessly down. 

Eventually she breathed a kind of laugh. “I didn’t see that coming. Jesus!” 

I said, “It’s an unpredictable world, Stephanie.” And, because I had her legs in my hands, and she had no more orgasm for now, I pushed her, like a double javelin, down the slide.

Stephanie said, “Yiiiii!” And she whooped with indignation and disbelieving laughter, while she hurtled facedown and naked, down that polished metal chute. 

I didn’t follow her down, though I wanted to. I climbed back down the steps and picked up her discarded shorts and panties. It seemed the responsible thing to do.

Stephanie, now getting up from the level bit at the slide’s end, called out to me, “You utter, utter, utter, utter bastard!” It seemed utter bastards were a good thing.

And then a light went on, from the house nearest the playground. People were stirring. We’d stirred them. 

 

Wicked Wednesday: Night Vision 4

Stephanie reached her right hand back when she felt her shorts halfway down her ass, and the cold air breathing on new skin. I took her wrist in mine and pulled her arm a little to the left, so that she could feel helpless. Then I kissed her hand.

Stephanie said, “Ah-huh.”

“Put your hands back on the slide. Below your head. Low as you can reach.”

“And you’ll spank me if I let go?” She wasn’t asking for information. She knew that. She just wanted to say it aloud. I wanted to kiss her. But I couldn’t reach. So I tugged the shorts, and her knickers down till they were bunched at the top of her thighs.

“Lift up for a second.”

She did. I pushed the little bundle of shorts and panties down to her knees, then used my foot, on the gusset, to drop them to her feet. I did what any gentleman would and pressed myself her, cock hard, yearning, desperate to be in her, between the tops of her thighs, that sweet gap known to all as the inter-gracile, sub-pudendal fossa. We both sighed at the same moment. That felt good, and we wanted more of that, please.

There was just one problem. My condoms were in my wallet, and my wallet was in my jeans, and my jeans were, at Stephanie’s demand, stuffed into the post-box back at my place. So the thing we both wanted most was temporarily not on.

We were both more than likely to be STD-free (small provincial university, general condom use, and the fucking Stephanie and I did involved a relatively small social circle), and under some circumstances lust would have led to us taking the risk. We were horny humans after midnight, not role models. But aside from the STD issue, I knew that while I could pull out before I actually came, at that moment there was no way I could guarantee not to leak seminal fluid into her.

Stephanie said, “Are you going to fuck me?” In the tone that meant: what in hell is keeping you? 

So I pulled back, and put my hand where my cock had been. And pressed up against soft, wet, girl-folds. I stroked her, fingertips just inside. Stephanie sighed, and turned her head, so her cheek rested on the slide. She was smiling.

I slipped two fingers along, not quite inside her, fingertips touching her clitoris, thumb pressing her asshole. I stroked, and Stephanie started to move against my hand. There were goosebumps on her buttocks and inner thighs. 

She moved her feet further apart, giving me better access. Her shorts fell to the ground; she was a naked girl on a slide, and nothing to be done about it if anyone happened along. I pressed against her as close as I could with my hand working on her cunt. Stephanie blew a lungful of breath out, and breathed in more quietly; breathing was something she’d forgotten about. She murmured, “Yeah…”

I stroked, my world or my awareness of it shrinking to my hand and her cunt, moving not quite in unison, sliding together, skin to wet, yearning skin. And speeding up.

After a time Stephanie pressed down on my hand, hard, and said, “Oh.” I pressed a my thumb little harder on her asshole, and she opened. I moved my fingers in her, as hard and fast as I could as I could. Her feet left the slide, so she was supported only by her tummy balanced on the top of the slide. She shook her head, and grunted, deep and low. Her thighs clasped my waist.

I kept my hand in her, and with my other hand smacked her bottom. Hard. Four times. Stephanie lay still, relaxed. It seemed that I had the right to spank her. Provided I used sound judgement. And kept her warm. I said, “Warmth.”

And I set about stroking her, slowly again. I wondered how long it would take for her to come for a second time. We’d find out.

Wicked Wednesday: Night Vision 3

Stephanie reached the fourth step from the top of the slide. Her ass was level with the slide. I stood on the ground, still gazing up at her thighs, admiring the softly muscled crease of her buttocks and thighs. I said, “Stop. That’s just right.”

She looked down at me while I climbed up to join her. I stood on the fifth step from the top, so my cock, not quite contained by my underpants, was more or less level with her ass. I pressed my body against hers. This was the most intimately we’d touched, so far. My cock pressed, admiring, desiring, against her ass, and knew it was comfortable there. Her ass was the place for my cock to be. Stephanie pressed back against me, not only to keep warm.

I put my arms around her bare back, and held her breasts in my hands. Her nipples were hard with cold and arousal, rubber bullets between my thumbs and forefingers.

Stephanie turned, “Are we going to slide down together?”

She was thinking, I guessed, of my promise that her arse wouldn’t get cold on the metal of the slide. “Probably. You can sit on me.”

She smiled. “You can be in charge of keeping my arse warm. You spank Maires, don’t you?”

“Oh?” I hadn’t been aware I was in gossip quite that detailed. On the other hand, Maires was not a discrete kind of girl. “Well, yes. When she wants me to.”

Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “Oh. That’s all her, is it?”

“No, sorry. I just meant, I don’t do anything she doesn’t want. I wouldn’t do anything  that you don’t want. Just being clear. But of course that’s not just just what she wants: I like spanking her. It’s, um, hot. Great ass, that Maires. Don’t you think?”

She looked away for a second. “Well, I’m not really into girls. But yes, she has a nice bottom. If you liked spanking girls, I can see that Maires would…” She looked back at me. She was blushing slightly. “Ah, anyway, yes, she’s got a nice arse. Fantastic legs. And I’m told she’s good at cunnilingus. By her boyfriend, no less.”

She was winding me up. I swung my body round to the side of the steps so we could press together and kiss properly. Stephanie nodded, and pressed into me, hard nipples against my shirt. I held onto the metal bar at the top of the slide with my left hand so I could put my right hand on her bottom. Stephanie sighed.

I patted her pretty little bottom, so lightly. I heard a chuckle from her, so I smacked her little harder. She kissed my neck. I smacked her again, a little harder still. I wondered if there was a point where she’d complain, but I didn’t want to find out. So I left my hand on her ass, kneading and fondling.

I focussed on the kiss. We opened our mouths. Her tongue touched my teeth. She put her arms round me, holding on to me and not the slide. She was depending on me. Literally. We kissed, changing the angle and exploring. My cock was pretty much entirely free of my underpants. It was, um, engorged. It was not cold. 

Stephanie eventually opened her eyes again. “Shall we slide?” 

“Hang on. No, I mean, hang on to the slide.” When she’d straightened and gripped the rails again, I swung my body back behind her. She waited. “Now, bend over.” 

“What?” 

“I promised you your ass wouldn’t get cold. I never made any promise about your tits. Bend over now. So your upper body’s on the chute. It’ll be cold, but it won’t matter.”

“You’re crazy, if you think–”

“Bend over, little Stephanie.” There was a pause. Stephanie considered various things. Which was stronger: cold, or fun and lust? Twenty seconds passed before I could say, “Good girl.”

“Hmmph!” But she said that with her head pressed against cold metal, her bottom the highest part of her body.  

I climbed up one more step, and let her feel my cock slide between her upper thighs. She said, “Oh, jesus.” We stayed together like that, moving very slowly and very slightly together, savouring every micro-movement.

But eventually I drew back, and reached under her to undo the top button of her shorts. And I tugged. Down.

Wicked Wednesday: Night vision 2

When you’re pushing a girl on a swing, and she’s wearing only a little pair of shorts and a pair of sandals, it can be hard to decide where to put your hands. So for the first few pushes, I pushed Stephanie with my hands just under her shoulders, so she could fly to the furthest extent the arc allowed. it was effective, and chaste. 

But chasteness wasn’t the goal, so the fourth time she came back I stood a little further so I could catch her suspended about half way up the backswing, and bite her neck and kiss her while she laughed. Then I’d send her flying again. After that, I caught her by the shorts, and pushed her by her perfect arse. 

And then, finally, I wasn’t so much pushing her at all. I just smacked her ass each time it flew back into my grasp. She was beautiful, flying, long straight blonde hair streaming, small breasts cold and tight; she was a valkyrie. Eventually she let the swing rest, with her feet touching the ground and her head back and turned so we could kiss properly. Her nipples were stiff, red and hard in excitement and the cold.  

Eventually we broke, and I helped Stephanie out of the swing. She said, “Slide! Slide!”

So I stood in front of her, holding her facing me, close. I put my hand inside her shorts and squeezed bare skin. Stephanie sighed. She slipped her hands down the back of my underpants, and enjoyed my penile reaction to that, body tight to to body.

Eventually I remembered speech, and said, “Slide. Sure. You go first.”

“You just want to watch me climb the ladder.”

“I do. I will.” 

“It’ll be so cold. The slide metal, under my ass.”

“Actually, it won’t. I promise.”

“You’re going to do magic?”

I smiled, like I hoped a mage might smile, and smacked her ass to keep it warm. And show my appreciation. Then we kissed some more because the night really was cold around us, and yet we were so warm for each other, a little sexual micro-climate. And I smacked her perfectly rounded, perfectly pretty bottom again, and walked her to the ladder leading up to the slide. 

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. This felt too good, and too promising. “Climb, Stephanie.” 

 

 

Night visions 1

Stephanie had been sitting in my lap for most of my party. That was complicated, in some ways. We’d been friends while I was with my last girlfriend, and we’d flirted but always safely, because I was committed. But I wasn’t committed any more, and the flirtation wasn’t safe, and we both knew it. We kissed, and the kisses weren’t the friendly kind; they had promise and exploration.

I had my hand under her shirt on her warm belly, kind of indecisively wandering sometimes closer to her cunt and sometimes towards her breasts. I hadn’t made contact or a choice yet, but she knew that I was teasing her, and I was getting smiles for that.

Our position was also complicated because I had a new girlfriend, Maires, and she was at my party too. But Maires also fancied Stephanie (she called her “Stiffener”, knowing the effect she had on me), and because Stephanie was very straight, Maires figured that her best chance was for me to fuck Stephanie first, and then for us bring Maires into bed later.

With negotiation, by Stephanie’s invitation, or it wouldn’t happen. So I had Maires’s blessing for my campaign to get Stephanie’s clothes off and her body into my bed, if I could manage it. She, Maires, could amuse herself with the other party guests in the meantime.

But Stephanie’s and my kisses were getting more intense. She’d twisted her body so she was facing me. Her nipples pressed against my shirt, and she arched her back to press tighter. We paused, eyes closed, and rocked together. I looked at her, and she opened her eyes too. “I really want to fuck you.”

She said, “Can we talk?”

“Of course. My room?”

“Hah. There are people in your room. I’m not ready to throw them out yet, just so you can have your-“

“Wicked way?”

“I hope it’s wicked.”

That was all I needed. I took her hand and helped her up. “We’re going for a walk. Now. It’s a lovely night outside. Moon. Shadows. Kid’s playground across the road.”

“All right.”

So we walked off, Stephanie leading the way, so I could admire her walk in little shorts, cut slightly above the crease of her ass and thighs. Maires was dancing with a guy who’d painted his face red and blue, but she caught my eye, and made an “ok” hand gesture.

It was warm out. I kissed Stephanie, but we’d already been doing that. There was a danger of awkward silence. So I put my hands on her ass, and we pressed together properly. I’d had an erection from about the moment she’d dropped her ass into my lap and we’d had our first kiss. But we’d ignored it. Now it pushed against her lower belly, and I held her tight against me, and it. She sighed. A good sigh. I’d declared myself in every way. Now we had privacy there was no way to not acknowledge our sexual intentions and desires.

So we talked about the things we had to talk about. I had Maires’s permission for my current disgraceful behaviour. Stephanie knew that Maires wanted her as well. And she’d never been with a girl, but she liked Maires. She also wanted to know: was I going to fall in love with her, Stephanie, if she came to bed? I said I probably wouldn’t; at least we should start with friendship and fucks.

She wanted me to wait until the party had emptied a bit before she came to bed. Even by the standards of this provincial university town in a cold climate, where students sometimes fucked simply to save on heating costs, Maires and I were pushing the envelope a little. There’d be gossip, and Stephanie wanted deniability.

I nodded. “Ok. It’s after midnight. Give it another half an hour. Then we’ll come back, I’ll put on early Yoko Ono and everyone will say, oh that’s really cool! And then they’ll leave, fast as they can. I don’t think she broke up the Beatles, but she sure can break up a party. Then we can fuck in bed and comfort. And if Maires hasn’t scored with the red and blue guy, she’ll come in later.”

“How will that be?”

“Wonderful! Oh, I see. It’ll be cuddly. It’ll be kissy. It’ll be all warm bodies rolling round. Me wishing I could have my cock in both of you at once. And what you do then is up to you. I know she’d like – Well, she’s good at cunnilingus. And she likes it a lot. I mean, giving.”

“Oh yeah. Do you know how many boys have told me that about their girlfriends?”

“God. Is that a thing, is it?”

“No. The answer is: none at all. Ever. No one has ever said that to me. I’ve never met a guy who’d think he had information to go on, to judge that.”

“Um.” Maires and I had actually met in a threesome.

Stephanie had her eyebrows up. “Or would talk about it if they could. It’s the gossip thing. You two could be forgetting how weird you are.”

“Good weird.”

“I’ll believe it for now. So what do we do for half an hour?”

“We play a game. Simon says.”

“Hmm. Dangerous. But it figures. Ok.”

“Good. I’m Simon. Lift your hands up. And keep still.”

“Hmm.” But she did as she was told.

She wore a white blouse of rough cotton. It was cold out, but it was beautiful and we were turned on. Magic was the warmth. She watched me, gravely, while I undid her buttons and took the shirt off, over her arms.

“Ok. Can I be Simon now?”

“No. There’s only one Simon. But you can tell me what you want.”

“Then, take your jeans off. We’re going to the playground. I’m going to be topless. You can keep your underpants on.”

“Um.” It’s always interesting, when you think you’re leading, and you get leapfrogged.

So I dropped my jeans, and stuffed them into the mailbox. It was cold, and it didn’t matter at all. I dropped Stephanie’s shirt in there too, trying to keep it relatively uncreased. And I got her bra off before we passed the gate, so it went in there too.

We raced across the road, looking frankly stupid, with my cock waggling about, not entirely contained in underpants. But we felt sure that no-one else was going to be watching the neighbourhood at that hour and climate.

Wicked Wednesday: Droit de Seigneur 36

Gizela, formerly the wife of the village Mayor, was used to rich clothes, by village standards, and used to respectful, deferential treatment, her place always at the head of the queue. Even when she came back from her times in the castle, and it was clear that Karl, the seigneur’s servant, had whipped her thoroughly and made unreserved use of her, her status was unaffected.

Now, walking naked from the Seigneur’s suite, naked, her buttocks and thighs blazing red from her Mistress’s hairbrush and her mouth still glazed with her Master’s come, she felt cheerful and, within certain well-defined limits, regal. Her marks and her sign that she had pleased her Master, who was everyone’s Master, did nothing to reduce her status. They enhanced it. 

So when she arrived at the kitchen and ordered a good breakfast for the Seigneur and his current woman, they hastened to assemble their best.

In the Seigneur’s tower, Yvain lay half on the Seigneur, her thigh over his, and half on his bed. “Four days ago I was going to be Matteo’s wife, once you’d taken my first night.”

The Seigneur smiled, and put his hand, as owner, on Yvain’s cunt. “Taken you.”

“Yes, you did. I was puzzled by Matteo’s lack of desire for me, and I thought it must be some fault in me. But you desired me. So I was wrong to think I must be unattractive.”

“If you doubt your beauty, my piglet, you should always confess it. I will punish you thoroughly.”

“I’d like that. And you know it. You wouldn’t stop till I’d come my brains out and I could hardly walk. I hope.”

“I think I can promise you that, piglet.”

“But when I was going to marry Matteo, I knew what my life was going to be. Not as exciting as my life now, but … there are security. I might have been bored, and frustrated, but I wouldn’t be afraid.”

“Do you mean you fear me?”

“Should I not, my Seigneur? Of course I do, but that’s a good fear. Like riding a wild horse.”

“You think you might tame me?”

“No, my Seigneur. I know I couldn’t, and I’d never try because there would be nothing I want less. You command me, you whip me, you fuck me: you own me. That’s the ride you give me, my wild Master, and I’d never want to get off.”

“But you’re troubled.”

“I might wake up and find that it is over. You will be intrigued by the next village bride they send you. And then, I know you will find me an honourable place. But it will be like being thrown down from heaven.”

Th Seigneur rolled over then, fully awake and a little alarmed. “You will not be cast out of heaven. Or even from my bed, squealing little piglet.” He lifted his hand from her cunt and smacked her lightly. When she moaned, he did it again, harder. “You want to know your dreadful fate?”

“My Seigneur? Please?” She was pale.

“You get the chance to say yes or no. This will be the only time you have that chance with me. If you agree, then you will remain my slave, my piglet.”

“Please!”

“Not yet!” he looked in her eyes, suddenly serious. “I would like you as my consort, own by me and ruled by me, but setting beside me and helping to rule beside me, as Mistress of this place. My heart and my brain – not to mention other parts – are in agreement about this. If you say the word, you are my consort. We are one. What say you?”

Yvain sat up. She could feel herself close to tears. She tried to control them, then decided it would be more honest to let them fall. And she wanted to be honest. “My love, my Seigneur, my master! Is the word ‘yes’ enough?”

As if through a rainy window she saw him nod, his mouth turned down but his eyes smiling. “It is a good word.”

“Yes!”

He smacked her cunt even harder, making her cry out, then brought his hand down to grip her. Comforting ownership. “Then we have things to do.” 

 

Wicked Wednesday: Droit de Seigneur 35

Yvain brought the hairbrush down on Gizela’s Gizela’s perfectly rounded, scarlet bottom. She got a satisfactory BAP! sound when the back of the brush met womanly flesh, and an appealingly pretty jerk of Gizela’s bottom and thighs when the brush landed. Her Seigneur had his cock thrust firmly into Gizela’s mouth, and his hands on her head, controlling her movements.

At that moment it seemed that Gizela had her mouth completely full: she glubbed rather than squealed. Her Seigneur looked at Yvain, smiled and nodded.

She was to resume Gizela’s punishment. Yvain spanked Gizela again, not quite as hard. She was terrified that the girl might bite their master, and of the consequences for both of them if he felt Gizela’s teeth. Gizela jerked under the blow, but she was there to serve their master and she knew it.

Her head bobbed, and she began to suck diligently but very slowly. The Seigneur sighed, pleased. “Good girls, both of you. Gizela, you know that if I feel your teeth, you will both feel the cane.”

Gizela could not answer. But it didn’t matter: she knew, and all three of them knew she knew.

Yvain continued Gizela’s spanking, the girl lying across Yvain’s lap, her head between the Seigneur’s thighs, holding his feet while she sucked his cock. Yvain had thought she was only submissive, but she loved Gizela’s weight across her lap, her obedience, and the pleasure she knew she was giving the woman with the brush. She didn’t beat Gizela as hard as she could. With her first four spanks she’d shown Gizela, and their Seigneur, that she could deliver real pain. But now she wanted things to build more slowly.

She brought down the brush over and over, making the room resound and Gizela’s bottom and thighs wriggle and bob and twist under the impacts of that hard wooden surface. Yvain knew from her own experience that she didn’t need to spank hard for this to hurt. Gizela was already sensitive, and the spanks had a cumulative effect, building up heat and sensation with every measured smack.

The Seigneur rested one hand on the back of Gizela’s head now, keeping her mouth firmly and deeply on his cock, and stroked her shoulders with the other.

“You’re doing well, little slave.” he told her. Or he might have been speaking to Yvain, whose eyes he watched while Gizela pleasured him.

Yvain smiled at him. She said, “She’s very wet, my Seigneur. I’m sure she likes your cock in your mouth, but she’ld explode if you were to fuck her.”

Gizela seemed to nod enthusiastically, though she might simply have been serving. The Seigneur made a pleasured sound, deep in his throat. It might have been a chuckle, or a tribute to Gizela’s skill and enthusiasm. “We might test that, in a while. Yvain, my piglet, beat your slave a little harder, now.” 

Gizela moaned. It didn’t seem to be a protest. The girl was pressing her cunt, hard, against Yvain’s thigh. Yvain made the spanks harder now, and slowed the tempo. Gizela parted her thighs as far as she could. Yvain knew she was trying to tempt her mistress into touching her cunt. Yvain knew that if she did, Gizela would come before her Master. That was not to happen.

Yvain watched her lover, her master, being sucked by their mutual slave. His breathing was harsher now, slow and deep, with a hint of growl. He had both hands on Gizela’s head now, and he simply held the girl down, while he thrust into her. He gasped, then growled louder, like an angry bear. His eyes lost focus as he pumped into Gizela’s mouth.

The moment had come, and so had her Seigneur. Yvain spanked Gizela’s cunt once, hard, with the back of the brush, then inserted the smooth, rounded handle. Gizela’s body arched, and Yvain saw every muscle in her back tauten, and the woman would have screamed if her mouth was not full of her master’s cock and his fluid. She gurgled, her body utterly tight, and then slowly relaxed. 

The Seigneur was looking, again, into Yvain’s eyes. He caressed Gizela’s back while her head bobbed, slower now, licking him clean and swallowing.

At last he said, “That was well done, both of you. And Yvain, yes: you have my permission to use the hairbrush on this girl whenever you feel she deserves it. If you take a mind to beat her purely for your pleasure, you have my permission for that as well.”

“Thank you, my Seigneur. I’m sure I speak for both of us.” Gizela was still licking her master and could not speak, though she seemed to nod.

The Seigneur slapped her face lightly, then. Gizela made an interrogative noise. “Go to the kitchen and fetch us food, Gizela. Do not dress or wipe your mouth. Your mistress and I have things to discuss.”