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By Rasputtin Szczepanski
Chapter 6
Miss Ambrosia started to treat me like her girlfriend, wooing me every step, keeping in constant contact via phone texts and Facebook. I spent a little time each day either hanging out at her tattoo shop or her place. When alone, she could never keep her hands off me, always slipping up my shirt to cup and play with my breast or down my pants to stroke my pussy.
The longer we went out, the more she asked about my life and questioned my every move. She became angry if I was not with her during my free time. Despite her controlling personality, I was addicted to how quickly she could make me cum.
When we fooled around, she would often pin me down and then kiss me all over. Her fingers would often dip inside of me and feel around the unbroken hymen. One day she fingered me as I lay naked on the bed. She rubbed and caressed me until I was nearly ready to climax. Then she lay on top of me and whispered into my ear, “I want to take your virginity.”
“How?” I whispered. She got up and pulled out a black plastic rubber dildo attached to a black leather harness from her drawer of toys. She held it in front of me, smiling that wicked smile of hers. She is wicked, I thought to myself. Why am I not more careful with her? She pushed the dildo to my lips.
“Kiss is,” she ordered. I puckered my lips and softly kissed the tip. She pulled it away and strapped the device on her bare hips so that the other end of the dildo pushed up against her clit. She walked over to me and stroked my face.
“Show me how you sucked off your boyfriend.” I winced and wished I didn’t tell her that story. She was like a professional interrogator though and I found that there wasn’t much I could keep from her. I leaned up on and arm and moved to a position where I could reach her bobbing black toy. She pushed me back down and pulled my head over to the corner of the bed. She laid the rubber cock in my mouth and slowly pushed it in. I began to suck it. “Good girl,” she whispered. I moaned and began to move my head, sucking on it, wondering how she could enjoy it when she couldn’t feel it. She held my head and pushed into my mouth. I nearly gagged and the cock pushed back against Ambrosia’s sex. I saw her open her mouth in pleasure and I began to understand.
She slid the cock in and out of my mouth, getting it wet with my spit. She pushed me back and climbed onto the bed, crawling between my legs. She spread them and laid her rubber cock so that the tip was nestled between my pussy lips. She leaned forward and whispered into my ear “You will never forget the person that took you virginity.” I wanted to stop her. I was scared and that fear jumped up as she pushed forward suddenly and I felt the tearing. She plunged forward, looking at my face. I cried out and tried to push her off. She pushed in deep and then held it there as she bottomed out. She slowly pulled back and then slowly pushed in again. Each time felt like I was being ripped in half. I muttered “owww, please…” and tears squeezed from the tips of my eyes and rolled down onto the sheets. She seemed to take pleasure in it and I could see her pleasure building up. Inside me, a pleasure was growing that was overcoming the diminishing pain. I focused on it. Anastasia began to push in and out faster. I was being fucked. The thought rocked me and I pushed my hips up. The feeling of something inside of me, filling me, stretching me was unlike any other feeling I have ever felt. I shuddered, my hands grabbing at her back and I came. She started to push into me harder and wasn’t far behind me. I saw her grind herself against the strap on, breathing hard, riding her orgasm.
After that, she enjoyed fucking me whenever she could. The violent lovemaking would either with the strap on, or just by grinding her sex against mine. Afterwards, we would lie in bed and she would caress me and ask me questions about almost everything. She dug into my history with sexuality and was fascinated with my early online exploration. She asked, “Did you talk to people online?”
“Yes, a lot,” I told her, lying with her arm wrapped around me.
“What program did you use to talk to people?” she asked.
“Mostly Skype or MIRC, but sometimes chat roulette,” I told her.
“Skype? What was your screen name?” she asked.
I told her.
Her hand felt nice as it ran back and forth across my chest. “Did they know how old you were?”
“Sometimes. Most of the time I lied.”
“You are so naughty. Did you webcam with any?”
“One guy.”
“An online boyfriend?” She was interested.
“Not really.”
“Did you play with your pussy for him?”
I swallowed. I always felt like I was walking into some sort of trap when the questioning started like this.
She smiled and kissed my shoulder. “Did you show him your pussy?”
I nodded.
“That’s kind of like a boyfriend. Why not anyone else?”
“I don’t know. I guess meeting you kept me busy.”
“What was his name?”
“Oh, he had one of those stupid online name.”
“What was it?” she asked.
“SlaveTrainer2010.”
Her breath was on my cheek and I felt it stop, just for a moment. “Did you enjoy talking to him on the web?” Her hands slowly traced my breast and she cupped one softly. I hated my breast when I lay on my back. They almost sagged right off my sides. She loved them and was always touching them.
“I guess so,” I whispered.
Her fingers began to trace my nipples. She was staring intently at me. It was still afternoon and the cold Maine sun lit my nude form. She didn’t like closing the shades but I was safe from any neighbor’s view. The next building over just had a wall without windows.
“Did he demand things from you?”
“Yes.”
Her fingers ran down my belly. “You liked it…being ordered to do things? Shameful things?”
“I guess.”
Her fingers dipped between my legs and then ran along my inner thigh.
“Did he teach you anything?” Her touching was driving me wild and despite the recent orgasm, I could feel my excitement building between my legs.
“I guess.” I really wanted to be someplace other than there. My online master was my secret that I wasn’t going to tell anyone.
Her fingers began to touch around my pussy, sometimes moving in softly to lightly touch the lips, tracing them. “What did he teach you?”
“Um. Well, he was into something called BDSM I think and he taught me about dominants and submissive.”
Ambrosia’s finger pushes slightly on a labia lip and pulled it open slowly. “And he showed you that you were submissive?”
I swallowed and tried not to push my hips up. “I guess so.”
“And he was a dominant?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Say ‘Yes Miss Ambrosia.”
I paused and looked at her. She began to dip her finger into me and spread the juices around my labia lips. I saw what she was doing and where this was going. I whispered, “Yes Miss Ambrosia.”
“Good girl,” she said, her finger now sliding up and down, nearing my clit but always just stopping short of it. “Did he take you as a slave?”
“No.”
She pinched my clit. I jumped, “Oww!”
She put her hand on my stomach, holding me down. “It’s ‘no Miss Ambrosia.’”
“Sorry.”
She continued to stroke me, “Did you want him to take you as a slave?”
“No…I mean, I don’t know…Miss Ambrosia.”
“Do you like the idea?”
I knew that she could feel with her fingers how my body reacted to that thought.
I couldn’t answer now that she was stroking me again. Her other hand which was curled around me, cupped my breast and began to squeeze it. “Your submissive and are in need of someone to own you, train you, isn’t that right?”
I was breathing hard. She pinched my nipple. “Isn’t that right?”
I nodded. She released the nipple and massaged it. “You are in luck then, because I want you. I wanted you the moment I saw you. I want you totally. I want you completely. I’m going to make you my slave.”
I was trying not to cum, not to react to the things she was telling. I felt like I was going to pass out. This wasn’t a game with someone anonymous, this was real and I knew that I was moving into something dangerous. “Would you like that? To be my slave?” she asked.
I shook my head and tried to speak, “I better not. I like hanging out and all…”
“How about if I don’t give you a choice?” She looked at my blank expression and explained some more, “you don’t have a choice. I’m taking you.” She slid her finger into me. “I’m taking you and making you mine, my pleasure slave. My pussy slave. Understood?”
I couldn’t answer, I was coming. I arched my back and screamed, my pussy clamping at her finger, me wishing it was more. She curled the finger up and held it there. Her other hand pinched a nipple, tugging on it, making me cum harder.
When I came down, she removed her finger and lay back on her back. She pushed my head down between her legs “Now, make me cum, girl. Then we’ll start your training.”
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