Sub*lime

Sub*lime- II

*

"I think I've been getting too tame with you," he was saying. He held my mask in his hands and peered at me.

"Yes, Sir."

He was pulling out some gadgets as I sat obediently in a chair and watched him. I didn't actually feel his domination towards me was becoming any less intense than it had ever been, and decided that his comments were hinting that things were to get more extreme.

Earlier we had been in bed together watching TV. I was tethered in my slave collar and was groveling to him big time. I nuzzled myself against him with my right arm and leg draped over his body. I kept caressing and kissing him, trying to get his attention.

But he kept watching TV and totally ignored me. I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his neck. I whimpered with desire, needing him to acknowledge my existence. I was wearing the stainless steel collar he had bought that Christmas. It was heavy, but comfortable because of the suede lining the inside. He never let me forget that he had bought it especially for me and how expensive it was. I loved it, but still didn't cherish it as much as the first collar he had placed around my neck.

He dropped the black slave hood into my lap and told me to put it on. I slipped the leather item over my head. There were openings for my nostrils and a zippered slot for my mouth. I could see out of the eyeholes as he tightly tied the apparatus into place. He then secured my torso with a harness.

My Dom cupped my chin and lifted it so that I was looking up at him. He smirked at me.

"Now you're nothing. Do you understand that?"

I nodded demurely.

"You're a faceless, voiceless body. You're even less than a hooker, because at least a hooker has her identity. No, you're just an anonymous piece of black meat for me to use… to shoot my load into…"

I begin to feel that way; my breathing became quick and shallow.

"You don't even deserve to get paid like a whore does. All you're worthy of is catching cum so that it doesn't mess up my sheets and carpet."

He pinched my right nipple hard as he said the last part. I gasped and they both came to life.

He reached over and retrieved the clamps. Though I enjoyed them, their presence got my heart pounding. The little clasps fastened onto my nipples and mashed and extended them while delivering a sharp, shocking pain in each. A single chain connected the two and he pulled on it. I moaned.

"Feel it?"

"Mmm Hmmm."

I knew he was pleased and I felt some satisfaction with that. The chair I sat in was a special one with stirrups set wide apart.

I did what he ordered: I leaned back and placed my feet up in the stirrups, exposing my vulva. He bound my ankles, then restrained my wrists to shackles at the head of the chair. He disappeared from my view and returned with forceps in his hand, ready to pinch, squeeze and pull my most delicate body parts. I began to perspire.

I cried out in agony while he put the little pliers to work. Tears moistened my eyes.

"Who's your Master?" he asked, and unzipped my mouth slot.

"You are, Sir."

"Who?" He squeezed my most sensitive place and I shrieked.

"You are, Sir! You're my Master!"

"And who's my slave-bitch?"

"I'm your slave-bitch, Sir."

"Good." He took away the forceps to my relief. He replaced them with his stiff, sharp tongue, lapping at my clitoris and between my wet labia as if he was exploring the taste for the first time.

He inserted a thick glass plug inside of me, stretching my interior uncomfortably. He lapped me a little more and pulled hard on the nipple chain. He was giving me a fusion of pain and ecstasy and I didn't know where one ended and the other began. I didn't moan out, though, afraid he'd stop if he knew how good it felt. Quickly, I climaxed hard and long-lasting.

By the time I was coming down from it, he was unlacing and pulling my hood up halfway. He brought his face to mine and kissed my lips. He circled them with the tip of his tongue, and then went to free to my ankles.

"Now… you know what I like," he said confidently.

Just as cocksure, I kneeled down before him and looked up, seeing how erect he was. I leaned over and licked his boots and followed him loyally as he stepped away.

He sat down and I kissed and licked over his chest and stomach. He took a handful of my shoulder-length hair and lifted his right arm up. I licked his armpit, smelling the faint remnants of his deodorant. He had no suntan; his skin was milky in comparison to my caramel complexion and because of it I felt his dominion over me even more despite myself.

I took his hand and kissed it with much reverence then offered a meek smile, the type a nervous stewardess might give. "Are you ready, Sir?"

He paused and said leisurely, "Not just yet."

I went back to giving him a tongue bath for about ten minutes.

"Now," he then replied.

I retrieved his heavy, stiff penis and lapped the precum with a wide stiff tongue. My wet lips kissed the underside of the head then I slid the shaft in and out of my mouth with tight lips like it was a syrupy, melting Popsicle. I moved to lick the inside of his thighs then returned in between as my head bobbed and my arousal rekindled. The plug was still inside me and harnessed; my muscles contracted around it steadily.

He grew larger in my mouth and my face burned with fatigue but if I stopped I'd be punished. He had complained about my blow jobs before. Not wanting to disappoint him, I sucked hard, making sure that my lips covered my teeth and that I ignored the gagging as he repeatedly slid down and back up my throat. My tongue massaged his cock and he grabbed my hair, beginning to ejaculate.

I was filled with relief and pride as he filled me with cum. I tried to keep it all contained but stuck a cupped hand under my chin to catch what I knew would drip out. Sure enough about half of his salty sweet semen pooled into my palm, and after I swallowed what was in my mouth, I met his gaze.

With an ached eyebrow he wore an expectant expression. I brought my hand up and licked and slurped it clean. His eyebrow lowered and I knew I was pleasing him, not just with my actions, but with my whole submission. I hoped I was becoming the obedient slut he had hoped for.

*

I crawled across the carpeted floor to retrieve a rubber ball he threw across the room.

"That's right, girl, go fetch it," he encouraged.

I took it between my teeth and brought it back. He was sitting in his easy chair with that arrogant look that warmed my senses. He tossed the ball again and I went for it.

"Faster this time… that's good… Now go bring your Master his favorite flogger."

I obeyed immediately, happy to be moving around since I had been motionless on my hands and knees for over an hour. He had been using me as a table and an ottoman, resting his ashtray and remote control on my back in addition to his heavy feet.

He took the flogger from me but didn't use it. His left hand was resting on his knee and I took the initiative to kiss it like the loving, loyal pet I was. I laid my head on his lap.

"Are you a good girl?" he asked.

I nodded and moaned for him. He stroked my hair and scratched my belly while I sunk to the floor and rolled onto my back. My eyes lowered contentedly and I tried my best not to burst into laughter; his fondling was tickling me. Then he scratched behind my right ear and that side of my upper body became alive with warm waves of goose pimples.

He smiled and brushed the flog tails along my body. "Go fetch my wallet."

I brought it to him. I was clamping it between my lips. As I presented it to him, I gazed up demurely into his face. Though staring offended him, he hated when I avoided periodic eye contact with him.

"We're going to go out for a nice walk tonight, to get some fresh air," he said enigmatically. "Does that sound nice?"

"Yes, Sir."

He went and composed an outfit for me to wear. I looked it over and wondered what he had in store for us so late that Saturday night.

He drove out to the rough area of the city and we strolled around the blocks taking in the drug addicts, vagabonds, hookers, and venturous night owls shuffling pass us and loitering about. The midnight air was warm and electric; I was dazzled by the crude rainbow of red, yellow, green and white street and car lights enveloping us in the black atmosphere. Occasionally an automobile would blow its horn and whiz along the street or someone would cackle with laughter or bellow out to a person at the other end of the block. With night came a different world from the day; the rise of the moon meant the rise of an underworld subculture.

I held onto my Dom's arm while the tepid wind caressed my bare skin. Wearing a pair of shorts, sneakers without socks, and a thin, taut tee shirt I had on no underwear and my breasts jiggled and swayed beneath the meager fabric. We came to stop in front of a boarded up brownstone building. My Dom leaned against a column at the foot of the staircase and held me from behind.

"Look at that hooker," he said.

I visually scanned the street until I saw a heavyset woman with long teased red hair and a cheap dress of purple crushed velvet on. She had a tiny box-shaped purse on her shoulder as she sashayed around the corner.

"How do you know she's one?" I asked.

"It's obvious." He raked his fingers down my hair. "Do you think you're worth more than she is?"

"I don't know what she charges."

"No more than forty."

"But, your opinion is the only one that matters, Sir."

I knew that he was pleased with the response as I could sense his approval. I grinned some.

"Did I already mention that I'm getting too tame with you?"

"…Yes, Sir…" My smile faded a bit.

As it did, a professional-looking man, probably leaving work after some overtime bookkeeping, walked down the sidewalk in a rumpled blue suit. My Dom exchanged greetings with him.

Then, to my horror, he took the hem of my shirt and lifted it up, exposing my breasts to the man.

"Doesn't this black meat look good?"

I don't know whose face got redder- mines or the man's! He kept walking past us, but turned his head back to gawk at us one last time. Then he was gone.

"Why did you do that, Sir?" I implored.

"Why not? You're a beautiful girl, and I want to show you off."

I was shocked speechless and overcome with nervous embarrassment. He took my hand and we began to walk once more. We stopped in front of a seedy bar and stood at a telephone booth. He was behind me again and I broke out into a sweat as my eyes darted. I wanted to object to what he had done but the words couldn't find their way out.

Another guy walked by us and my Dom lifted my shirt again.

"Hey, buddy… like what you see?"

The guy leered. "How much is she?"

"Five bucks."

The man broke into a dry laugh. I tried to keep my hot face from cracking.

His expression was skeptic. "Five bucks really?"

"Sure."

" Ahhh… " he balked with the wave of his hand and kept walking.

"Sir, this is kind of dangerous. We could… get arrested for soliciting or some thing."

He had lowered my shirt. He playfully squeezed on my tits like they were horns. "Relax, this is just good clean fun."

"Do you really think I'm worth just five dollars?"

"Tonight you are. Five dollars at the most. That'll be enough to get me some cigarettes."

The bar door swung open and bellowing Blues music escaped out of it as an inebriated patron stepped onto the sidewalk.

"How are you tonight?" my Dom asked him.

"Pretty good," he slurred with a dopey smile. He took a misstep and had to catch his footing.

"You want to see my bitch's rack?"

"Say what?"

"For a dollar you can see her tits."

The guy's smile broadened and his eyebrows arched high, as if he waited for the Candid Camera crew to spring out from behind us. Never-the-less, he dug into his pants pocket and peeled off a single.

His eyes glued to my exposed chest. My Dom took each tit in his hands and shook and squeezed them together.

The guy licked his lips and chuckled softly. Though I was mortified by the exposure, the knowledge that I was arousing him made my crotch tingle and itch with titillation. When the stranger was gone, I stroked myself in relief.

" Slut ." My Dom pushed me.

As he did, a patrol car rolled down the street and the two cops inside gave us a long stare at the stoplight. My Dom picked up the payphone's receiver and pretended that he was calling someone. I stood close to him so they wouldn't think we were up to no good.

"You like being used and humiliated like a cheap, crude slut, don't you?" he muttered to me.

I didn't know how to respond. I looked over to the patrol car again and noticed the officers had lost interest in us.

"Answer me, cunt."

"No, Sir."

" Never lie to me."

"It was… okay."

The police car rolled away and he slammed the receiver down. "Next time we come out here I'll have you in a miniskirt- got it?"

He continued to offer guys an eyeful and an occasional squeeze for a dollar, and after a while, had collected three more ones. He took us to a mini-mart. By then I could feel reluctant silky moisture on my inner thighs.

With the cash he bought himself three loose cigarettes, a Snickers bar, and some breath mints. I knew he had more than enough of his own money in his wallet to spend. I had the munchies and wished he would've bought me a snack cake or some potato chips but he didn't, and I was afraid to ask lest he reject me.

We took the long way back to his car. I was relieved to see that no one had stolen his hubcaps or broken in to get the CD player or something, especially since there was a group of homeless men gathered on the corner not far away.

We stood against the car for a while as he smoked and had some of his candy. Then he pulled me to him and began to grip my ass and writhe into my crotch in full view of the vagabonds.

"Please… I don't know about here," I said, feeling eyes on us.

He slapped me harshly on my backside, eliciting a whoop and some chortles from the crowd. "But you like being looked at, don't you, slut?"

His fingers dipped under the hem of my shorts and stroked my swollen lips, where there was still a little wetness. The discovery brought a satisfied grin to his face.

"Wear that black whore's pussy out!" was yelled to us.

My Dom didn't seem to have heard or cared about the comment. He unlocked the back door. "Get in, on your back… Now pull your shorts off and keep your legs up."

I obeyed and calmly watched him unzip his jeans and pull his dick out of his briefs. He had gotten hard at the sight of my hairy mahogany and pink vulva. He climbed into the car and slammed the door, locking it. Then he settled between my legs and pushed himself deep inside my canal on the first try.

As he fucked me the automobile began to rock and there were some more shouts from the derelict crowd.

"You like it, bitch?" he breathed out.

"Not with them out there."

My disclosure got him more passionate, and he began sticking his tongue into my ear and biting and sucking on my neck, while never losing the relentless rhythm of his hips. I could only enjoy it minimally, though. I stared up through the window praying that a cop wouldn't tap on it or shine a light through to arrest us.