Callista's Ordeal 1

The street was a tunnel of darkness. Under the big lilac bushes that overhung the sidewalk it was darker still, making little caves of inky blackness in which nothing could be seen. I watched her as she walked from one of these deep shadows to another, disappearing and then reappearing under the feeble glow of the few street lights. She was coming back from the library, right on schedule, six minutes after closing time.

She walked with her head high, her pace steady, neither too slow nor too fast. She was wearing a gray skirt and a white blouse. I knew that blouse. I'd seen her in it before, on our one date. It was tight, too tight around her luscious breasts, and my hand had crushed the fabric as I squeezed her in my passion and made her moan. I'd found her nipples beneath that blouse and beneath the sheer bra she'd worn, and I'd taken that between my fingers and squeezed, and Alicia had arched her back up to me and closed her eyes in masochistic pleasure. I could remember feel the weight of her tit in my hand even now as I watched her walk, and the deep shudder as she pressed her body against me.

That had been our one date, and that had been as far as she'd let me go, but the way she'd gasped and shuddered when I squeezed her nipple had told me all I needed to know about Alicia. She'd liked it like that, and despite her protests and the way she'd suddenly pulled herself together and pushed me away, deep down she'd wanted it. She'd wanted that and more.

She was close enough now so I could see her face and hear the sharp click of her heels on the sidewalk. Her blonde hair was piled on her head and she was dressed for something. I wondered if she'd had a date, some boy she'd met at the library, someone she wanted to look good for. But if so, why wasn't she with him now? Why was she walking alone, walking home on this dark street where a certain man was waiting for her, dangerous and determined?

Her skirt flounced around her thighs as she walked, her long legs reaching out as she stepped from darkness to dim light. Very quietly I slipped the gun into my jacket and opened the side door of the van, listening to the sounds of her footsteps. The street was deserted. There hadn't been one car since I'd been here.

"Hello, Alicia."

"Oh my God!" She gasped and jumped back, putting her hand to her throat. "Elliot is that you? You scared the hell out of me!"

"Did I? I'm sorry to hear it. Do you need a lift?"

She took a couple of deep breaths. I'd badly startled her.

"No. I'm just going home. It's just half a block."

I stepped out of the van. "No," I said. "I don't think so. I don't think you're going home. I think you're coming with me."

She looked at me. The moving shadows of the leaves covered my face, put when I pulled the gun from my jacket, she saw well enough what it was. She didn't know it was only a BB gun, but that was just as well.

Her eyes went wide. "Elliot, what are you doing?"

"In the van, baby."

"Elliot, don't fool around. I'm not in the mood, I…"

I grabbed her arm and pulled her towards me, pulling her off balance. I'd already cut off a bunch of strips of duct tape and tacked them to my pants leg, now I dropped the gun and spun her around, pulled off one of the strips of tape and laid it over her wrist. She was too startled to stop me, and I grabbed her other wrist and yanked it behind her before she realized what I was doing, making her drop her book. I flicked the tape over this wrist too and it stuck to her like it had been waiting for her all its life.

"Elliot! What the hell?"

It took maybe two seconds and I had her wrists taped behind her back. I smelled her perfume, the same perfume that had driven me so crazy on our date. Yeah, she had dressed all right, trying to impress someone. That was okay with me. I hoped whoever it was had gotten her hot. I hoped her little pussy was just dripping with juice.

I pulled her to the van, lifted her up and threw her onto the mattress on the floor. I picked up her book and the gun, looked quickly up and down the street, then climbed in after her and pulled the door closed with a hollow thud.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? If this is some kind of game…"

I didn't talk. I ripped off another strip of tape and sealed it over her mouth and she stopped talking as well. Her eyes got wild. I grabbed a length of rope and threw it around her ankles, pulling them together, and lashed it around them. She was tied hand and foot in the back of the van, now I could finally relax. I sat down on the wheel well, my heart pounding in my chest.

She was a young thing. Maybe that's why our date hadn't worked out. It wasn't really a date anyhow, just a late night coffee, a long talk, and then us together in the front seat of my van outside her house. That's when I'd kissed her, and she hadn't stopped me. Her lips had been warm and expectant, curious and more than a little willing. She'd raised a hand and fingered a button on my shirt as I kissed her, as if wondering whether she should open it and stick her hand inside, but the feel of her lips on mine had inflamed me and I'd pushed her back into the seat, wanting more of her. My hand had gone to her breast, to her sweet, heavy breast, and I'd squeezed it tenderly and she'd kissed me harder, telling me yes.

That's when I'd found her nipple and rolled it gently between my fingers. Alicia had whimpered, reached up and put her hand behind my neck, holding her face to hers. When I pinched it, taking it between my fingers and slowly bearing down, she'd opened her lips and moaned into my mouth and I felt her start to melt in my arms.

As soon as I'd stopped pinching she'd quickly come to her senses, gotten herself together and suddenly sat up, sputtering and making excuses and saying she had to go, had to get inside. But I knew what had happened. She liked that pain on her nipple. It had melted her and made her weak, and she knew that if she didn't stop me right there she'd lose it and give in to me. When I was hurting her, taking control of her, she'd shown me who she really was and what she really wanted, and that had scared her. But even if she wouldn't admit it to herself, I knew what she wanted. I knew what she hid inside.

So she'd begged off when I called her back after that 'date'. I was too old, it wouldn't work out, she should never have let me kiss her, especially not on a first date, she had school work to do; good bye. I had heard the nervousness in her voice, and it wasn't from breaking it off with me. It was because she knew that I knew.

And now here she was, her wrists tied behind her back, her ankles tied together, a piece of duct tape over her mouth. I got down on the mattress next to her and looked her up and down, the ripe bulge of her tits accented by the cruel position of her arms, her knees up protectively, her skirt hiked up and showing an expanse of bare thigh.

I reached out and laid my hand on her leg, feeling her smoothness. Her eyes were still wide, looking at me in fear. She didn't struggle.

"I'm not going to hurt you baby, not that way. But we have business together, unfinished business from the other night, remember?" I ran my hand up her thigh, lifting her skirt as I did. Her leg was warm, her skin like satin. I ran my hand up almost to her hip, and then back down to her knee. She felt wonderful under my hand.

I'd meant to drive away as soon as I had her, but the street was so quiet and she looked so good lying there in the moving shadows that I couldn't help myself. I reached up and caressed her face, running the back of my fingers over her soft cheek. She trembled like an animal in a trap, afraid to move. My hand slipped down, over her neck, her throat, down to her chest where her skin showed through the neckline of her blouse. Down over the firm hillock of her breast, then back up.

She stared at my hand on her like it was a spider, eyes wide, afraid of what it was going to do. Her blouse was so tight and her bra so sheer that I could feel her nipple through them both, just like on that other night. And just like on that other night, I played with it, running my fingers in circles around it, coaxing it into hardness, so that when I closed my fingers on it there was something to grip.

She jerked when I did that, her body arching in reflex and trying to twist away, but when she realized that I meant to keep it up she suddenly relaxed, her head falling back onto the mattress and her body going limp. Only when I let go of her did she give a muffled moan.

I didn't own her yet, but she was in play. My hands went to the front of her blouse and I began to fumble with the buttons. I hardly had to open them, the pressure of her tits against the fabric made them spring open, and I was halfway down when she suddenly decided to fight me back, lifting her shoulders up and twisting away, but the buttons were open to below her tits by now and all I had to do was take both her nipples between my fingers and squeeze. Alicia whined and her face clenched in pain. I rolled those little nubs between my fingers and she shuddered, then fell helplessly back onto the mattress. Her hips cocked up at me in a kind of instinctive female gesture, and that got me hot.

Her tits drove me wild, and the way she surrendered to my rough treatment. There in the darkness in the back of the van. on that bare mattress I leaned down and covered her nipple with my mouth, licking it through her bra, closing my lips on her. I wanted to show her that there was going to be pleasure with the pain. I wanted to show her that I understood both and knew how to use them.

She moaned softly as I continued to suck and lick that nipple through her bra, while my hand continued to torment her other one, pinching it, tugging on it, giving her that mix of good and bad that I knew she wanted. When I pulled my mouth from her, her nipples was hard and her bra was wet with my saliva and she was breathing fast.

"You see, baby," I said, sliding my hand up and down the inside of her thigh, "I know all about you. I know what you want, what you can't get from your boyfriends, and it's what I want too. Everything you want done to you, I want to do. Every secret fantasy, everything you've dreamed of, I want to do them all to you."

She could only moan as my hand slid all the way up and I felt the warm heat of her pussy. She was wet. I could feel her humidity on my hand, coming right through her panties. That meant she was already excited and sexually receptive, and that it had happened despite her fear and her alarm, maybe because of them. It was something deep in her, something her body responded to even as she tried to fight it off.

I slid my hand along the plump lips of her crease I felt through her panties, felt her soft labia slide under my fingers through the slick, damp fabric. One finger toyed at the leg hole of her panties, exploring the super-soft skin there where the inside of her leg joined her body. When I lifted the edge of the fabric I felt a blast of feminine heat come from her as if I'd opened the door of an oven. Alicia groaned, digging her ass into the mattress trying to escape.

She was not soaking wet yet, but she was wet enough that I could pick up some of her grease on my finger and rub it back and forth over her slit, over her smooth, shaves lips, coaxing more wetness out of her. Her breathing was ragged and jerky and punctuated with little gasps whenever I touched her in a particularly sensitive place. She knew by now that I could feel her wetness and that I knew that she was aroused, and it embarrassed her, but there was nothing she could do about it. I played with her pussy, and she just lay there, twitching a little whenever I touched her clit.

"I'm going to take the gag off now, baby," I said to her. "And you're not going to scream or make any noise, are you?"

She didn't answer me, so I took that as a yes. She was lying on hr back, her arms taped behind her, with her knees drawn up and turned to the side, her ankles tied together. My hand was trapped between the soft heat of her thighs, my fingers playing against her slit beneath her panties.

I had punked the tape so that it wouldn't stick so tightly to her face, and I lifted a corner now and pulled it off; not so slow as to prolong the pain but not so quick as to pull her lips off either. And the minute I pulled it I pushed one finger up into her tight little hole.

Alicia gave one grunt of pain, though whether from the tape or the sudden invasion of her pussy, I couldn't tell. I quickly covered her mouth with mine as I drove my finger into her wet pussy. Her lips were partly open, but she didn't kiss me back, not until I reached my finger all the way up inside her as I found her clit with my thumb. I pushed hard, giving her a preview of what my cock was going to feel like, and my thumb made greasy little circles around her clit. She opened her mouth and took my tongue inside with a submissive whimper.

I could feel the hot breath through her nose on my cheek as I pressed my fingers up against the tight rings of muscle in her cunt, her little beseeching moans and gasps as I worked my finger in and out of her. She might be embarrassed and afraid, but her pussy was starting to flood with excited female moisture as I rimmed her cunt with my finger tip, drawing lewd little circle at the entrance to her body.

I had plans, all sorts of plans, but love is like war, and you never know what's going to happen until you get in there. I hadn't expected her to have such an effect on me, to get me so fucking hot, but the feel of her tongue in my mouth and the way her pussy sucked at my finger was too much for me. I scrambled to my knees and pulled my pants down.

"Come on," I whispered to her, "Suck me, bitch. Show me how good I make you feel."

I knelt at her head and leaned my hard cock over her, but she kept her face turned to the side in denial, so I tangled my hands in her blonde hair and turned her face to me. I butted the head against her lips a couple of times, but she kept her lips sealed, so I drove my finger into her and pulled up, almost lifting her ass from the mattress. My other finger found her anus and pressed against it, trying to work its way inside her and that did it. She opened her mouth and my cock slid right inside her warm, wet mouth.

"Oh fuck yeah!" I hissed. Her face is so gorgeous, so delicate and feminine, and seeing the big brutal stalk of my cock between those delicate lips made the blood pound in my head. I felt my male lust rising in me like a burning fog. Her mouth was soft and hot just like the feel of her pussy on my finger. She didn't suck me very eagerly, but it was enough to have my prick in her mouth. It was something I'd been thinking about since I first saw her.

I reached down and loosened the ropes at her feet. They weren't tied with a knot, just lashed around her ankles, so it wasn't hard to work some slack into them. Then I grabbed the rope and pulled her ankles up towards her body. She didn't know what I was trying to do at first, but a few pushes showed her I wanted her to open her legs, to raise her knees and let them fall open. It was a humiliating and degrading position, and she refused, but I'd come prepared.

I had some toys in the back of the van, and I found a whip, a riding crop, with a little square of leather on the tip: something between a stinger and a slapper. I slapped her with it right on the inside of first one knee, then the other. She gave a couple of sharp little cried through her cock-stuffed lips and then her legs fell open in abject surrender. I rolled her halfway onto her side and found the excess rope from the lashings around her feet, and I threaded them through her wrists, pulling her ankles up near her ass, then I tied it off and rolled her on her back again.

Let me paint you a picture now: Alicia's on her back on the mattress in the van, her wrists bound behind her. Her ankles are drawn up near her ass, tied with a length of rope to her bound wrists, pulling her shoulders back so that her tits stand out on her chest, and her knees are out and to the side. Her blouse is open almost to the waist, and her clothes are all a mess, all skewed around. I'm on my knees holding her head with my hand tangled in her hair, keeping her face up so she can suck my cock, and in my other hand I'm holding that riding crop. I used the crop to push the hem of her skirt up around her waist, so I could see her naked thighs in the dim streetlight that filtered back there, see her little panties stretched tight against her swollen pussy, the crotch band dark with the wetness of her own excitement.

"Hot little bitch!" I hissed at her. "Suck that cock! Get it good and hard so I can fuck you with it. I'm going to fuck you all night, Alicia, and I'm going to eat your pussy and make you come in my mouth so we can both see what a nasty little slut you are. I'm going to fuck you all over, in every hole you've got, then I'm going to tie you up and fuck you some more. I'm going to come in your pussy and your ass and all over your face and you're going to love it. You're going to love it because you love being my whore and love it when I make you do what I want. Don't you, baby? Don't you?"

My words must have gotten to her, because she groaned as she sucked me, But that wasn't good enough for me. As I shoved my prick into her face and she sputtered and gagged, trying to breath, I took the crop and placed a little slap on her panties, right over her clit. Not too hard, nothing hard enough to hurt her, but enough to make her feel it. She squealed and arched her back, but with her ankles tied to her hands, she was already pretty much arched anyhow, bent like a bow.

I hit her again, then again, keeping up a steady patter of soft little blows to her clit with the whip, steady, rhythmic, getting faster and faster. She was sucking me good now, moaning in her throat and gurgling. As tight as she was tied, she still managed to grind her ass around on that mattress, trying to push her pussy at the whip or trying to escape, I couldn't tell.

She really started sucking me now, the spank of the whip on her cunt getting to her. Her little tongue was all over me, and she was really putting the suction on, trying to suck it out of me, trying to pull the come right out of my balls. It was her own excitement that was doing it to her, the excitement of being forced to suck me like a slave while I whipped her hungry little pussy. I could barely take it, and I let go of her head and fell over her face, catching myself on my hand. I started fucking her mouth like it was a cunt, moving my hips and sending my prick rumbling over her lips and into her throat. Saliva was dripping from her lips now, and still she hung on to me, taking my fucking and sliding her tongue around me.

I saw her face, her eyes closed tight, her mouth distended over my plundering cock. I kept on tapping her cunt with the whip as she sucked me, faster and faster, harder and harder as her excitement grew. I could hear the flat little splat as it landed against her soaked panties, and every time I hit her she gave a little twitch, reaching her cunt up at me.

She was moaning and groaning constantly now, gurgling as my cock pistoned into her mouth. She was trying to tell me something but I knew what it was. The hot little bitch was trying to tell me she was going to come, but I knew that already. I knew it because she'd managed to get her feet under her and bridge her back up off the mattress and her hips were fucking at the punishing whip just like a woman fucks a man, the cords on the inside of her legs standing out as she worked, eager to feel that slap against her engorged clit.

I'd been right about her. She was a hot little bitch, a sexual animal beneath that sweet exterior. She just needed someone to bring it out of her, someone to demand that she let it out. She needed to be taken and tied and fucked, whipped and played with until she let it all out, every fucking drop of it. She needed a man's wild lust to make her let go.

She started screaming now, wild, the sound muffled by my prick. Her ass came off the mattress and she shoved her pussy up where I hit her hard now, spanking that hot pussy, and her hips started to quiver, all her muscles going tight. She was coming. She was right on the edge, and knowing that she was coming, that I'd been right about her, set me off.

"Oh Fuck! Bitch! Cunt! Yes!" I screamed. I pulled my prick from her mouth and started fisting myself while I whipped her cunt like a jockey in the home stretch, my cock in one hand, the whip in the other. Alicia opened her mouth but no sound came out. She just hung there, her lips quivering, and the look of orgasmic rapture on that beautiful face just sent me over the edge. The come boiled up from the base of my spine and I began to shoot all over her: her eyes, her lips, her mouth, slathering that gorgeous face with ribbons of white-hot ejaculate in thick, viscous streams.

Alicia stuck her tongue out for more, then her body seized up and locked in a total rictus of sexual overload. She went so rigid that her tits shook on her chest from the strain and her pussy trembled as she pressed it up into the air and let her orgasm claim her.

I wanted more than anything to have my spurting prick shoved up inside her pussy as she lost it but there was nothing I could do but lay there over here and let the come gush from my body and fall on her face and watch her buck her hips in a primal need for cock.

One thing I knew, even before both of us stopped coming: I wasn't done with this bitch tonight. Not by a long shot.

Calista's Ordeal 2

I untied her hands and let her clean up and wipe my come off her face with a couple of WetOnes, but in return for that I made her take her panties off, a fair enough deal. Then I retied her wrists behind her back and laid her back down on the mattress.

It was funny to watch her now. She couldn't deny that she had just come like a banshee from the humiliation of being face fucked while I whipped her pussy, and I could just see the thoughts going through her mind, wondering what had happened to her. As I handed her the wipe her hands were shaking like an old lady's with palsy and you could hear her trying to catch her breath in the darkness without sounding like she was panting. She sat back against the wall of the van, lifted her ass and slid her sodden underpants down her thighs and handed them to me with a shaking hand.

"What are you going to do with me now?" she asked as I retied her hands.

"Oh, I've got all sorts of things planned," I said. "A regular evening of fun."

"Look," she said, "You got what you wanted. Why don't you just take me home and I won't tell anyone what happened?"

"Tell anyone what happened?" I mocked. "Alicia, you haven't seen a tenth of what's going to happen. This is your night. This is the night you learn all about yourself. You won't be the same woman in the morning as you are right now, so I wouldn't make any plans about telling anyone anything right now. You've still got a long way to go."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No?" I picked her up and propped her against the side of the van so she was sitting there slumped down kind of like a sack of flour. "Spread your legs."

"Please. Isn't that enough for one night?"

"Spread 'em."

She picked up her knees and spread them apart. I leaned over her and bunched her skirt up around her waist so she could look down and see her naked pussy.

"Watch," I said. "Watch what I'm going to do to you."

I moved around in front of her and got my face between her thighs, and when she saw what I was going to do she turned her face to the side as if she didn't want to see. I slapped her on the ass.

"Watch!" I said.

I brought my face down to her pussy. She was still wet, sticky with her own juices, and I loved the smell of hot womanly sex coming off that sweet, girlish pussy. I held her thighs apart and stuck my tongue out.

She grunted when I touched her slit with my tongue, like someone had punched her in the gut. I wiggled the tip of my tongue between her lips and slid it up till I found the tender bud of her clit, and then I began to trace circles around it with my tongue, pushing her tender flesh around. Calista clenched her eyes shut and looked like she was going to cry, because she couldn't keep me from doing what I was doing, and because what I was doing felt good to her, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.

It felt good to me too. Her pussy was soft and slick and juicy as a ripe peach, and I could look at her and see her mouth suddenly open as she gasped for breath. I don't care who she thought she was or who she was trying to be: I knew she was one hot bitch, every bit as sexually charged as I was, and her capacity for sexual pleaure made her nothing but a whore, a slave to her own pleasure. We both knew it. It's just that she was trying to deny it. As long as I kept my tongue in her trembling little clit, the things she felt kept shame at bay. As soon as I removed it, she;d feel the humiliation of her need again.

I pressed on the insides of her thighs and she let her legs fall open in a way that automatically pushed her cunt up towards me, making my job easier, and I pulled her thighs against my shoulders and drove my tongue between her tight lips, nuzzling her clit with my nose. I was filled with the smell and taste and feel of her, and it drove me wild. Her hips began to roll against the mattress as I ate her, and I knew she was getting into it.

I pressed the tip of my little finger against her asshole and she cried out and her eyes popped open, her body jerking beneath me. Being eaten was one thing, but having a man stick a finger up her little asshole was something else; something degrading, so I didn't insist. Not yet. I rimmed her anus with my finger as I stuck me tongue into her hot depths and she clamped her thighs around my ears.

I had to stop. I didn't want to lose it again here, and I figured that was enough to take care of any questions about why I was doing this to her. I got up and licked my lips, then wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. I left her slumped there in the back of the van, with her legs spread and her pussy shining with my saliva and climbed into the driver's seat, started the van and headed for my lab.

My lab wasn't much, really. It was a second floor loft in a decaying industrial district surrounded by empty warehouses and factories in a pretty dead part of town. No residents, no cops, nothing going on after sundown. Nice and quiet and private. I pulled the van around back and untied her ankles but left her wrists tied behind her back, then grabbed her arm and led her up the dark back stairs.

What I wanted to do was fuck her. I wanted to throw her down on the bed and just ram my cock up between her legs and let myself go on her, and I was pretty sure that if I did she'd get off on it too. She might go passive and play dead at first, but she was one hot piece inside, and I knew that if I provided her with a nice, hard piece of meat she would work herself off on it like a two-dollar whore. But I had another agenda. I had other things I wanted to prove to her.

Calista had come with me of her own free will, of that I had no doubt. Yes, she'd been tied and trussed up in the back of the van, but the attentive reader will have noticed that she never once asked me to stop what I was doing to her. Had she ever said so much as a "No!" or a "Let me go!" I would have untied her and jumped back, hands in the air like one of those calf-ropers in the rodeo, and I was sure she knew it.

No, she had stayed with me because I'd showed her something she wanted to see. I don't think she would have described it to herself in those terms, but that's what it came down to. I had just made her suck me off while I whipped her pussy till she came in the back of the van, and she had come hard. I had something she wanted all right, and I was pretty sure I knew what it was.

I got her inside and marched her over to the whipping rack and undid her wrists. She stood there quietly in the dark as I buckled the manacles around her wrists then took up the slack in the chains so that her hands were tied at shoulder level and I made sure she was secure. The whipping rack was a framework of two-by-fours about the size of a doorway and framed the same way, but heavily braced, with big chrome screw eyes and clips bolted to it to make tying easy and a broad base so it would support any weight I wanted to put on it. It was one of the pieces of equipment I'd been building over the last few weeks specifically for Calista. I'd been planning this for a while, ever since that first date.

Her clothes were still messed up, her skirt all wrinkled, her blouse open and her bra up above her tits. I went to the wall switch and hit the lights. She looked around her and then looked again, this time with her eyes a little wider. It was a gratifying reaction.

In addition to the whipping rack I had a big St. Andrew's cross, the one shaped like an X, used for binding someone's arms and legs to. There was a heavy chair upholstered in black leather and set with silver eyebolts and leather straps, and a big brass bed with ropes tied to the head and footboard. There were manacles hanging from the ceiling, and along one wall were my chains and straps, rope, whips and floggers, collars and cuffs, all where I could get to them. The lights were can lights set in the ceiling, designed to shine down upon the various stations and show off the equipment. Very medieval, very dramatic. It was like the stage for a play and Calista was the star

She stood there looking around sullenly, perhaps a bit nervous, but it was the fact that she was standing there at all that gave me a little thrill. She wasn't struggling, wasn't screaming for me to let her go. She was waiting. Waiting to see what I was going to do with her

"You no doubt want to know what's going on," I said. "Why I've brought you here."

She looked at me and said nothing.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Not seriously, love. But I want to show you something. I want to teach you something about yourself. Once I've shown this thing to you, if you still want to leave, I'll be happy to drive you home. But I have to show it to you. Because if I don't, someone else will, and I couldn't live with that."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're not struggling, you're not fighting," I said. "Have you noticed that? Do you know why? No? Then that's the first thing I'm going to show you."

I took a pair of bandage scissors from a table and walked over to her. She didn't move when I got behind her and unbuttoned her skirt, opened the zipper and pulled it down over her hips. She automatically lifted her feet so I could take it off her, and I picked it up and threw it over the arms of the bondage chair. She seemed to be running on autopilot. I don't think she was even aware of what she was doing.

I hated to cut her blouse off her, so I just peeled it back down over her shoulders. Standing so close to her, her perfume was in my nose, the soft expanse of smooth skin from her neck to her shoulders, perfect and flawless, just beneath my fingers. With a deep sigh I gave into my own desires and encircled her body with my arms, took her breasts in my hands and pressed my lips against her warm flesh.

I couldn't help it. I know I'm supposed to be a rough tough dom, but when I see a woman like this, tied and vulnerable, it always gets to me. Calista twisted uneasily as I pressed her back against me. Her arms stiffened and she pulled against the chains, and I knew she was enjoying the feel of her bonds, making sure she was tied tight. It was a show of struggling. She really wasn't going anywhere, and really don't think she wanted to go anywhere anyhow. She wanted to be right where she was, chained to that whipping frame, waiting to see what I was going to do to her.

"Hold still," I said, and then I reached up around in front of her with the scissors.

Her bra was still pushed up over her tits. I slid the scissors under the front and cut the cups apart, allowing her tits to spill free, then I pulled the useless garment down her arms. I dropped the scissors to the floor and took her tits in my hands and she gave a little whimper. Her tits are big, maybe mango sized, if you're into fruit. Big enough so she shows a natural cleavage even without a bra. Her nipples were just getting stiff as I took them between my thumb and index fingers and squeezed.

Calista gave a little moan and the chains clanked as she jerked her body to the side, trying to get away.

"Don't!" she cried. "That hurts!"

But I kept on squeezing till she gave a low little moan and arched her back against me. I knew the point where the hurt turns into something else, something she wanted very much to feel right now. She didn't know about it yet, but I did, and I felt her shudder as she grabbed the ropes with her hands, trying to twist away, My cock was hard now, and I let her press her ass against me as she twisted so she could feel it. She must have felt it, and from the way she moved she must have liked the way it felt. She wasn't as innocent as she wanted to appear.

I reluctantly let go of her tits and knelt down behind her. Her panty-clad ass was right by my face, the proud jut of her round buttocks with that little scrap of black panties stretched tight between them. The panties would have to go too, so I took the waist and peeled them down. With her hands tied, there wasn't much she could do to stop me, besides, by now I was getting the definite feeling that she was getting into it and was more than a little interested in what we were doing. She let me pull the panties down over her lean muscular legs, and when I tugged, she raised her feet one at a time so I could get them off. I felt their dampness as I threw them aside.

There were manacles down at the bottom of the frame for her feet. I buckled them around her ankles, then shortened the chain until her feet were about two feet apart, spread at about shoulder width. That was all the room I needed.

The view from down around her ankles was spectacular: the high, smooth globes of her buttocks swept down and under into the tight tuck between her legs where they gave way to the shaved, puffy lips of her pussy, reddened now by her recent whipping. Her labia were pressed together in a stubborn little pout.

I resisted the urge to jam my face between her asscheeks lick her like a bitch and stood up.

Aside from her shoes, she was naked now from the waist down. The only clothes she had on were her shredded blouse and her cut bra which were hanging around her elbows. The rest of her, from her sculpted back down to her jutting ass and down the long smooth columns of her legs was bare and open to me. She was all mine.

"Gorgeous bitch," I whispered. I put my arms out and ran my hands down her body, over the sides of her tits, her waist, the swell of her hips, then I around in front, over the tops of her thighs and up onto the shaved, baby-soft skin of her mound.

Calista gasped and I felt her stomach clench tight. I stroked the insides of her thighs on either side of her pussy as I talked to her.

"You don't really know what you are, do you baby?" I asked her. "You really don't know who you are inside, or why I'm doing this to you, do you?. I know you've had guys before, and that you know all about sex, but you still don't know anything. You've never felt a tenth of what you're capable of feeling, because no one's ever made you feel it, and no one's ever demanded that you feel it, and that's why we're here tonight. It's time to meet the real you, Calista. Time to let it all out, everything you've been hiding inside."

I let go of her and grabbed Junior from the corner. Junior was my own contraption: an old-fashioned microphone stand with a heavy, solid base that I'd picked up in a garage sale. There was a clamp on the shaft that held a horizontal steel rod just at her crotch height, and on the end of the rod was another clamp that held a ten-inch vibrator at about a forty-five degree angle up from the horizontal, just perfect for a girl to fuck herself on if she were bound hand and foot in a whipping frame like Calista was.

"What are you doing?" she asked as I pushed Junior into position so the vibe just touched her pussy. She pulled her hips back away from it as I piled some more dumbbell weights on the base to keep Junior steady.

"This might come in handy in a few minutes," I said.

"You're fucking sick," she said to me.

"Could be," I said. "And don't you love it?"

I selected a whip from the wall. The one I was looking for was a split-tailed birch with six fairly stiff leather-wrapped lashes, each about a foot long. They were woven into a tight, slick braided handle and would deliver a blow that was somewhere between a slap and a lash: the sting of a whip with the control of a crop.

Calista looked back over her shoulder to see what I was doing just as I gave her the first spank across her perfect ass, not too hard, just a little wake-up call. She gasped in surprise and instinctively shoved her hips forward, making her pussy slide up against Junior's waiting dildo.

Perfect. I walked around her and hit the switch and the vibrator started humming.

I came back behind her and hit her again, and again her hips jerked away, sending the tip of Junior's vibrating cock sliding along her crease.

"Ow! Damn it!" she moaned.

I didn't say anything. I held onto one of her wrists for balance and I started whipping that high, proud ass -- slappp!! smackk!! whapp!!-- and with each slap her hips would thrust out, causing her pussy to slide over Junior's humming vibe, briefly muffling his sound with her soft pussy.

I hit her maybe half a dozen times, then stopped. The vibe was buzzing and Calista was panting, her hands balled into helpless little fists. The vibrator had a big shiny spot on it, and her ass looked like it had been clawed by an angry tiger. The welts looked good on her.

"Come on, baby. You can do better than that."

I stared smacking her again, hard enough to make her feel it and leave a nice red patch on her ass, and pretty soon I found a rhythm that we could both work with, a good, solid, fucking rhythm, making her hips pump obscenely against the Junior's waiting vibrator every time the lashes slapped down across her ass.

After the last blow, her hips didn't swing back, and she kept her pussy pressed against that vibe, her buttocks clenched, her legs trembling with the strain. The hum of the vibrator was muffled by the wet, fleshy grip of her pussy.

"Ohhhh," she said. Then, "Oh, God!"

"Feels good, doesn't it, bitch?" I whispered in her ear. "Almost as good as it's going to feel when I get my hard cock into you and stretch that precious little pussy till you scream for joy."

I reached out with my toe and pushed Junior back a little, and Calista thrust her hips out after him, wanting more of that delicious torture.

"You like that baby? You like having that nasty things buzzing against your sweet pussy while I whip your ass? Does that feel good, you little slut?"

Calista moaned. I pushed Junior back another inch, so that now she really had to arch her back to press the top of her slit against the vibrator. Her arms were tied to the frame and as she pushed her hips forward she pulled her shoulders back, making her tits stick out. Her nipples were hard and swollen and pointing towards the corners of the ceiling. Even her areolas were swollen. Her tits were covered with goose bumps.

"Oh please," she said.

I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, but Calista kept her pussy pressed hard against that vibrator. I could feel her body shaking with the strain.

"You see, baby. It's just like I said. You're a little whore inside. You try to be good, but your pussy likes it otherwise. She loves the nasty things I do to her. She loves it when I whip her and when I spank your tits and whip your ass. She wants it. Doesn't she, Calista? Tell me!"

"Yes! Oh God! Yes!" she screamed.

The strain was too much for her and she couldn't hold the pose. She fell back in the ropes and I started whipping her sore ass again, laying stripe upon stripe. I reached around her and laid a few lashes across her jiggling tits, and that did it for her. She threw her head back and started to shake.

"Oh God! Oh Fuck! I'm going to come! I'm going to come! I… I…"

The slaps from the whip never stopped. I whipped her ass, up between her legs, whipping the orgasm right out of her, demanding that she give it to me, and Calista shook and sobbed and gave me everything, just like I wanted.

Why does a woman get whipped? It's because you want her so much, isn't it? It's because her beauty and your need for her makes you so weak with desire that you have to lash out and show her who runs who. You have to make her feel what she makes you feel, how it hurts.

And it's because she's too good for you. Because on the outside she's a goddess and butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, but inside you know she's just as hot and hungry as you are; that she wants it just as much as you do, but she'd never tell you that. She'd never admit it, so you have to whip it out of her. You make love to her with the whip. You caress her and hurt her, stinging that delicate flesh and leaving welts over her tits and her ass, punishing her for the very thing she wants, laying lines of fire across the tops of her thighs and her pussy. And she gives herself to you. She gives her body to your rage and your hunger, lets it eat her up alive, takes the pain and feels it as pleasure, until finally she's taken all she can take, and like Calista, arched like a bow, every muscle shivering with the strain of pushing her spasming pussy out against the maddening buzz of the vibrator or clenched tight against the burning pain of the whip, she comes like a volcano, stretched tight between the pain and the pleasure, screaming out her slutty joy in her own helpless surrender to your lust.

I lost no time in getting her down from the frame, though my fingers were shaking with excitement. She fell into my arms, too weak to stand, and I pulled her over to the cheap bed, no more than a piece of plywood with a couple of blankets over it. I laid her down on it and stripped off my clothes like they were on fire. I pushed her knees up and apart and I sunk into her delicious warmth as her cunt was still trembling from her savage come.

"Oh God! Oh God!" she moaned as I fucked her like a wild man. I filled my hands with the hot meat of her ass, feeling the raised welts against my palms, sunk my fingers into her and pulled her to me to make her take it, all of it, every last aching millimeter.

She was powerless, without the strength to even move beneath me, but still I grabbed her wrists and held her down, wanting her to know who owned her, who possessed her. I fucked her like she'd never been fucked before, with a savage fury and a hunger for her that had her gasping for breath as my prick slammed into her like a piston in a diesel engine so that when I finally was ready to come—when I levered my self up off of her and grabbed hold of her tits in both my hands, glared down at her angelic face and told her I was about to come inside her—she found the sudden strength to dig her heels into the bed and thrust her open cunt up at me, open like a flower to accept the blistering heat of my wild ejaculation. I came into her again and again as she moaned and clutched at me, great ribbons of hot come sent spitting deep inside her, painting her very insides with my essence: all my anguish and need for her, all my angry love.