Author: Elizabeth Heath
Category: Other
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She lay in the bed, awake for a little while, and must have drifted off to sleep. Some time later--she didn't know when--she awoke in a still house with his quiet breathing the only sound. She was thirsty, so she got up from the bed, still naked except for the heels which she noticed with amusement were still strapped to her pretty feet. The sexy shoes clicked on the hardwood floors, echoing through the quiet home.
The glow from the refrigerator bathed her body in a cool white light as she stood in front of the machine, peering into it. A bottle of water opened and was held to her lips. She drank deeply of the cool liquid and was about to return to the bedroom when she started. A strange noise frightened her and she turned quickly to see him standing in the kitchen behind her. The smile on his lips was one of amusement and interest. She'd forgotten that she was naked and he simply stood and enjoyed the view. She made no move to cover up; after all, he'd spent a half hour pleasuring her this very night. Why be modest?
"Very sexy, Kitten," he'd intoned when he finally spoke, "I'd love some of that." She could tell that he was in a naughty mood from the way he said it. If he was ready for more, then so was she.
"And how do you want it, Sir?"
"Ahhh, 'Sir' now is it? That's a good girl. I'm glad you're learning some respect for a man." He grinned wickedly in the low light, and moved towards her.
"Well, I have tried to tell you what it is I need," she answered with a small glimmer of hope that finally he was going to take a more dominant role.
His face hardened and softened at the same time. She could see the change in expression as his dominant side took hold. She could see the thoughts swirling behind gleaming eyes of what he might demand of her body. Alternately, his demeanor changed as if to say, "Dear, sweet girl. Finally, I am going to show you what I want from you..."
She was ready. She turned to face him full on, to show him that she wasn't afraid of what might come. She stood on sure feet, ready to embrace her fate.
Fear and excitement raced through her brain. "What will he ask of me?" she thought. "He has no experience with this and I have less than that."
His command came sharply, decisively. "Slut, on your knees."
She was shocked by his tone, by the word. "Where did that come from?" Without thinking though, she dropped to her knees and assumed the submissive pose that she always took in her fantasies, hoping that he would be pleased.
He stood over her. He reached down and took her chin in his hand and turned the face up to look at him. "From now on, Slut, you will address me as, 'Sir'. Do you understand?"
A voice that couldn't possibly be hers came from her mouth, "I do, Sir."
"And are there limits to what is mine?"
"No Sir."
"And is this something you crave, Slut?"
This time, she hesitated. This was it. Finally, she would admit to him that this is what she needed.
His annoyance came quickly. "Slut? Why are you taking so long to answer?"
"I needed to be sure, Sir."
"So your answer is...?"
"I crave it, Sir. I do. I need to be...this...thing. I want to be...submissive to you. I need to be treated like your toy, your possession. Yours to use as you see fit. Yours to command. I...need to give up and allow you to control my life."
"Excellent."
She fought tears. She'd finally said it. It had been given voice and now it was out there. Her need to submit to him hung on the air and consumed her thoughts. She felt brave for saying it; she felt smaller for offering her submission. She was now the little one in the relationship. He had been given all the power. No longer would she be placed on a pedestal. No longer would he worship her body and coax orgasms from her for her pleasure. Now, it would be for him. All for him.
The tears dried. It was done. She was his. And she was ready to embrace it.
He continued to look down at Charlie as if considering his first act. "What would make you mine?" he queried out loud. In answer to his own question--which he didn't expect her to answer anyway--he unzipped the fly on his shorts. "Show me how a good submissive worships her Dominant's cock."
Excitedly, she reached into his shorts and was surprised by the heft of his member. She pulled it carefully through the fly and admired its shape, its smell, its weight, and its length as if for the first time. She kept expecting him to stop her, as if it was a test for her first act as a submissive. She carefully stroked it, waiting to be told to stop so he could move on to something else that he actually enjoyed. Surprisingly, he didn't stop her but watched her carefully, surprised that she didn't immediately suck the head into her mouth.
His hand twisted in her hair and she felt truly owned...and comforted by that ownership. It pulled her face closer to his thick cock and her mouth opened to swallow him. He didn't stop pushing until the bulbous head caught in the back of her throat. She suppressed her gag reflex and allowed him to push and felt the length of him filling her mouth and going into her throat. Once fully stuffed into her mouth and throat, he held her there. She felt full and close to panicking. She needed to breathe but he held her there. Was this a test? Finally her gag reflex kicked in and she pulled away, choking a little as spittle clung to his now hard cock. She caught her breath and struggled to accommodate him as he immediately pushed back into her face.
His hips flexed forward and over and over he pushed into her. "That's a good slut," he whispered, "Do you like having your face fucked?"
She considered trying to answer, but knew that it would involve having to remove him from her mouth. And that wasn't happening until he chose the time for it to stop. Her answer instead, was to increase her efforts at laving his thick shaft, to flick at the purple head with her tongue, and to swallow his entire length each time it was roughly pushed into her face.
She couldn't believe it; she was enjoying it. She was astounded at her need to please him and amazed by her lack of fear. Everything she craved...
But the thought was interrupted. He pulled his twitching cock from her mouth and strands of her saliva mixed with his pre-cum stretched from her lips to his engorged head.
"Up," he ordered and she struggled to stand quickly on wobbly legs. The heels didn't help nor did her excitement at what was happening. Despite it being what she'd never allowed herself to admit that she wanted, she still felt like she was living a dream.
On her feet, she stood facing him until he physically grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. She felt herself pushed against the cold, unyielding metal of the refrigerator and her nipples crinkled and she screamed inwardly at the sensation. She felt him behind her. A finger deftly traced the bumps of her spine. It reached the soft curve of the small of her back and slowed, but did not stop. Dipping into the crack of her ass, it continued to explore and stopped just short of touching her most taboo spot. "Oh God..." she started to think.
But it was removed. Two hands firmly gripped her hips and pulled her away from the refrigerator. She was forced to step backwards about two feet. His foot intruded between her heels and gently kicked them apart until her feet were just wider than her shoulder width. The movement had forced her to pull away from the cold face of the refrigerator, but his insistent hand pushed her face back towards it and she was forced to bend at the waist. The heels jutted her ass out behind her and the position of being bent forward with her back straight made it worse...or better.
His hand caressed the curve of her right cheek. Its soft skin was explored by his firm hand and she could feel his breathing behind her. The hand was removed and then a stinging pain coursed through her. Again it hit. He was spanking her ass, hard! She couldn't believe it. Five minutes after admitting her submissive nature and she had already happily had her face fucked and now she was getting a spanking. What could be next?
The spanking continued for five or six more swats. She could feel the heat building in her right ass cheek and it was strangely exciting to her. She was being driven crazy by the erotic pain and when he dragged his nails across the inc
redibly hot area, she could feel her pussy get wet. She couldn't believe it; she was so happy yet wanted to cry from the pain. But not a sad crying, no. She was ready to cry tears of joy at finally getting him to take a dominant role in their sex play.
The insistent finger returned to her ass cheek. The other hand joined it and she felt herself being spread open from behind. "Oh...no..." she wasn't sure how she felt about that. While she prepared to express her concern, her thought was interrupted by his finger--moistened from his mouth--swirling gently over her anus. "Oh...that feels so..." She couldn't even finish the thought. She had fantasized about this most taboo of acts and couldn't believe that for the first time in her life, she was being touched on her tiny hole. He was playing with her asshole and she found she was actually pushing back. It was so naughty, she couldn't believe she was enjoying it.
And pressure was increased. He continued to swirl his finger around her butthole, but the pressure increased. "Does he intend to penetrate my ass?" she thought to herself. The finger pushed, never relenting, until her sphincter relaxed and the tip of his finger entered her. The feeling was strange, exotic, and she moaned a little.
"What was that, Slut?" he asked from behind her.
"Nothing, Sir," she answered.
No answer. Well at least no verbal answer. The response to her silence was to increase the pressure yet again. She felt her ass being invaded by a sensation she'd never felt before. As she fought to remain quiet and not displease her new Dominant, she found herself pushing back lewdly, trying to engulf more of his finger in her tight asshole.
The finger was removed. She nearly screamed with frustration. She'd been on the long, slow buildup to an orgasm and now the stimulation had been removed. She almost cried from the loss of his invading finger.
And then, she felt a new sensation. She felt something wet, prying, and soft poking at her asshole. With a fright, she realized that he had knelt behind her and was holding her cheeks apart while he teased her sensitive spot with his tongue. "Oh my God," she screamed in her mind. "This can't be happening. Is he really going to...?"
The amazing feeling of his tongue poking into her most secret spot combined with the incredibly "wrong" nature of it cut off her thoughts and she fought to not collapse backwards onto his face. The orgasm was approaching and she reeled at the thought that this taboo stimulus was driving her over the edge.
When he grunted and pushed his tongue into her, past the resistant sphincter of her anus, and probed her asshole, she fought off the explosion that was building inside her. "Was she allowed to cum?" she wondered. There had been no talk of this; she didn't know what was allowed.
But when the tongue pushed further up her ass and began to wiggle, she thought she might come apart. A finger snaked upwards, between her legs, and searched out her clit. When the finger touched it, she could fight it no more. Her orgasm crashed over her, radiated outwards from her pussy and ass, and drove her harder into the fridge. Her ass pushed backwards, tight against his face and tongue. She screamed, cried, laughed, and howled as if she was being blown apart from the inside. He held her with his arms around her legs and his face between the cheeks of her ass while she recovered from the powerful orgasm. The sensation of being held around the waist was similar to the one she'd felt earlier that night when she'd had her pussy eaten in a similar way.
At some point, she realized that she was breathing again. He was gone. She was alone in the kitchen, still naked, still barely standing on shaking legs, and feeling so much more...complete than before. She had what she wanted. She'd offered her submission and had a taste of what being taken roughly was like. She'd become an object, a cherished toy, to be used by him whenever he wanted. She was happy, and strangely so.
Re-entering the bedroom, she moved to their bed. He stirred and sat up straight. "Where have you been, Baby? I thought I heard a noise and woke up wondering if it was you."
Shock, dismay, anger, and finally contentment spread across her face in the dark as Charlene fell back asleep.
The End.
Handyman
Roger a fifty-four years old widower lives in the southern part of the USA. He stood about five-foot five, has average weight, black hair, brown eyes, and a muscular build. He doesn't consider himself handsome, or someone women would find attractive. So he doesn't have an interested in looking for someone, or dating. He spends his week like the average man, working, taking care of his home and son. While shopping at the local market one Friday he met and has become friends with an older woman named Margaret.
Margaret was a Caucasian woman in her sixties. She stood about 5' 5". Her short white hair accented her blue eyes, and lips the color of a rose. She had a full figure, wide hips, and a good set of tits. His first thought was how he'd like to bury his face and cock in them. She didn't wear make-up because she didn't need it, she sparkled with a beauty many men would not see. He felt an immediate attraction to her.
When he first saw her, she was shopping at the same market he goes too. She was alone and always appeared to be lonely. However, she did smile in greeting every time they came close to one another. The following week he decided when he had the chance; he would stop and talk to her. He did and introduced himself, "Hello, my name is Roger."
"Hello, Roger my name is Margaret, nice to meet you."
Nothing else was said that week, but as the days passed, their conversations extended past the usual greeting. He found out she was a widow. She was also needing someone to help her with small things around the house, but had no idea where to look, and was too shy to ask.
"Sorry to hear about your husband, I know how that goes I have been a widower for over two years. My wife died of cancer. By the way if you want, I can come over and help you with some things if you want."
"Oh that would be nice, but I cannot pay you much."
"Don't worry about that, you can pay me with a home cooked meal."
"Okay, I can do that. When can you come over?"
He thought for a moment then suggested, "How's about this coming Saturday, around three o'clock?"
"That will be nice. Here's my address and phone number, just in case you get lost or have to cancel."
He chuckled, "I doubt I will cancel on a free meal."
In the back of his mind he wondered is she would be willing to be the dessert. After all age is just a mere number, and her body was alluring. Besides it would be just sex, and he never got enough of that.
Saturday was three days away, and the time drug by slowly. When the day finally arrived, he showered and dressed in blue-jeans and a t-shirt, after all he would be doing handyman type work.
When he arrived she greeted him wearing a skirt and casual blouse. "Thanks for coming over to help me out, Roger, this won't take long."
She seemed to be such a sweet woman. He also loved the fact that she offered a home cooked meal as his reward for helping her.
She then told him she needed a few light bulbs changed, but was scared of heights. She pointed to a hall closet and told him he'd find the stepladder there. She told him she'd go get the bulbs as he retrieved the ladder. When they had everything needed, she showed him the ones that needed to be replaced.
When they had one bulb left, she told him he needed to change the one in her bedroom closet. In addition he could hand her a couple boxes off the top shelf.
When they entered the room he saw it was neat and tidy. Everything had butterflies on it and was either purple or pink and nicely coordinated.
She then directed him to the closet. The huge walk in closet was as bigger than any he'd ever seen.
"Roger, while you're on the ladder, I want you to hand me a couple of boxes. I need to find some papers and I am sure they are in one of them."
"No problem. Let me change this bulb then you can tell me which ones you need." He changed the bulb and she turned the light on.
"Now which ones do you need Margaret?"
"One box if brown and has a label on it which reads, 2010, in
surance paperwork, and one is green, and it reads insurance papers 2011."
He found them, picked up one box and handed it down to her. When he did he got a good look down her blouse. He swallowed hard, and felt his dick stir. Oh man, what a time for a boner, he froze. . She noticed he was acting peculiar and asked. "What's wrong dear?"
"Oh nothing," hoping she had not noticed the swelling in his jeans. He quickly composed himself, found the other box, and handed it to her.
He got down off the ladder, and was startled, they were face to face. He tried to act casual, and spoke, "What else do you need done, I'm don't have to be home till 10pm to make sure my son goes to bed, and doesn't stay up too late playing video games."
She moved back, smiled and batted her eyes. "Nothing I can think of. Hey, I'm getting thirsty, would you like some cool tea, soda, or a beer?"
"I'd like some tea with sugar and lemon if you have it, my throat is a bit parched."
"Good why don't you go sit on the sofa as I get us both some. After that we can have supper, as it won't take long to finish that, I have a roast in the oven with all the trimmings. Plus German chocolate cake for dessert."
"You didn't have to go to all that trouble."
"It's no problem besides it feels nice cooking for a man again."
She came back with tea and napkins, and the two sat and talked like long lost friends. Neither was really looking for romance, but somehow the two were drawn to each other
"You know, I used to have a handyman, but he moved to another state." She blushed, and then chuckled, "He was so good to me, in more ways than one."
He kind of knew what she was hinting at and asked. "Oh really, care to tell me what you he did, if it's not too embarrassing?"