From: 103236.3204@compuserve.com (the_munk)
Subject: Sherry#08: POW (Repost)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories
Sherry#08: POW (Repost)
(see Sherry#00: Background, . . .)
It is a Spring morning, cleaned by the brief rain that just
gave way to Ol' Sol. She walks, not in a rush, but with a
purpose, from the cleaner's to her waiting car. Ready to
complete the day's errands, she sips the last of the Coke left
over from a fast food breakfast.
The slot for the ignition key seems to move every time she
tries to mate it with the key. Again she reaches out with the
key, but her arm just doesn't want to respond, becoming weaker
with each passing second. The dash is becoming fuzzy as she
opens her mouth to call for help, but can release no sound from
her lips.
"Help!" she thinks to herself, "What's going on...", as her
eyelids shade the steering wheel from view and she slowly lays
over to her right, sound asleep.
Footsteps toward her. "Please, anybody, where am I?"
A loud bang near her and she feels herself, bars and all,
swinging freely.
A not to far away voice shouting a oriental language and in
an instant, the bottom drops out from under her. Hands grab her
under her arms and though bound hand and foot, she is dragged
toward the voice. Stairs strike her bare feet as she is pulled
up a flight. She is thrown against a wall and falls back on
uncovered box springs. The voice is heard again and the
blindfold removed.
Around her, several orientals wearing army green uniforms.
Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, she couldn't tell. A hut, rough
wood floors, bamboo walls, some sort of thatch for roof. A desk,
radio, files, not much else.
One of the men barks something at her she couldn't
understand. Again, the same phrase in the same unknown tongue.
The figure that spoke steps closer and slaps her across the
face, throwing her head to the side. The phrase is repeated,
still without recognition. Again and again she is slapped. As
she struggles to regain her bound footing, a dozen bayonets are
snapped up and held at her throat and chest.
She sees the leader's eye glance at the others as he points
to her and barks out his orders. Instantly, her feet are untied
and secured to the corners of the bare box springs. A vine noose
is slipped around her neck and tied to the bed. Hands still
behind her, a bucket of water is thrown on her, wetting her
uniform through. Again the phrase, now shouted at her.
The man holds a wire in his hand. He touches her leg with
it, sending jolts throughout her body, grabbing the leg as if in
a toothed bear trap. Again the phrase and the wire is touched to
the other leg; jarring her, forcing her muscles to contort and
clench without her command, biting her lip from pain.
When she slowly opens her eyes, the man holds a wire in each
hand. She struggles against the restraints as he repeats the
phrase. She knows what he is going to do with the wires, she
can't stop it from happening. He holds them closer. Closer to
her chest. Closer to her breasts. Even before he touches her,
she closes her eyes and screams.
She is reclining, legs restrained at the ankles. The cage
must be attached because she can't move it with her head or
shoulders. As she tries moving her arm, she hears the rattle of
chains. She tries to touch the head cage, but the chains on her
wrists are just long enough to allow her to touch and go no
further.
The men hear her stirring, she feels one grab her hands,
place them on the buttons of her blouse and jiggle it, signaling
her to undo them. She hesitates, pretending not to understand.
The wooden board in front of her sides slowly upward, reviling a
wire door a few inches from her face. On the other side of the
door is ..... a RAT!
She struggles futilely against the chains, trying to grab
the cage and remove it, then to escape. She can't. She screams.
A half dozen bayonets snap to her throat, making their points
known to her flesh. Her hands are again placed on the buttons of
her blouse and jiggled, signaling her to undo them. Slowly, she
does. Bottom to top, one button at a time, until fully open,
fully bare chested, fully pleasing her captors who "ooohhh" and
laugh wide eyed.
She unzips her trousers and raising her hips, slides them
over her ass, down to almost her knees. She couldn't see, but
could feel cold steel sliding up both legs, cutting and sawing
the fabric. The two leg scraps are pulled, pulled clean away to
the hoops of the men, leaving her totally uncovered.
Her hands are placed on her breasts and then one on her slit
as an unknown, but understood command is given to continue. She
starts rolling a nipple between her fingers, sliding fingers into
herself, already wet from fear.
Her eyes are closed as she gets more in the mood, caressing
and fondling, a show "for the troops". She hears a tap on the
cage, sees the leader grinning ear to ear as he points in front
of her. The wire door separating face to face rat contact is
lifted slightly. The rat immediately sees and tries to wiggle
through the crack at her bottom. The little nose sniffing,
whiskers twitching, seeking just enough space.....
Her hands are again directed to her pussy, laughter and
jesting all around her. She closes her eyes and slides her
fingers tightly into her already dripping slit. Before she knows
it, her hips are rising and lowering, her nipples rock hard to
her touch. She hears sounds from the men, very much enjoying her
performance. She is close, very close, she can't hold back the
climax, just about there, breathing hard and raspy, moaning with
every stroke of her fingers, heart pounding as if about to
explode. A metal squeak in front of her. She opens her eyes.
The RAT! The RAT HAS PUSHED UP THE DOOR AND IS AT HER FACE!!!
She looks slowly around as her vision clears. She sits in a
bathtub with a few inches of water, still very much naked. The
men sit around her, talking about her, joking about her, in words
she can't understand.
She is given a sponge and soap. To the prompting of their
bayonets, she baths herself as the captors look on. The water is
warm, but the cool night air chills her, rising goose bumps on
her arms and hardening her nipples more then they were.
Hair and face washed, she is handed a bottle of beer. As
she starts to take a sip, the same man stops her hand and points
to her crotch. Obeying him, she lowers the bottle to her slit
and slides the neck in. She works it in and out, the movement
and warmth causing the fluid to foam and tickle inside her before
running out. Bottle empty, she is handed another.
She is already hot from not being able to cum before. As
she writhes to the special douche, her moanings entice the man to
stand straddling the tub. He unzips his pants and pulls out his
cock. He pulls her head forward by her wet hair. With his knife
at her juggler, she doesn't resist as he slides into her mouth.
He holds her head and masturbates his cock with her head and
mouth. He quickly cums, holding inside her until she swallows.
Unable to control himself, the leader grabs her by one arm
and throws her face down onto a mattress. A man grabs each wrist
and pulls them to the sides. Four more grab her knees and
ankles, forcing her spread in a doggie position. The leader
unzips his fly and pulling her cheeks up and apart, rams in his
cock. Her body betrays her, she cannot control herself, she
wants this cock, she wants the feeling.
She is there, moaning, panting, just about to CUM! He
touches her, touches her with a wire on her ass. Her buttocks
are grabbed by a thousand needles, jolted back and hard onto his
cock.
He continues to pump, enjoying her thrust upon him,
squeezing her cheeks, fingering her hole, bringing her up again,
and ZAP! The wire again.
She pulls her arms, she tries to jerk her legs away. The
more she struggles, the tighter her captors hold her, the more
they love it, the more aroused she becomes as the leader's cock
pumps her again.
The feeling, lost in only the feeling, she screams as the
cock pulses inside of her, unloading it's cum. She screams and
cums. Cums with such exhaustion, she relaxes and falls asleep.
Even before she opens her eyes, her body conveys its
position, its discomfort. The tiny cage she is in holds her on
all fours with no room to move. Her cage sets on a table,
surrounded by the men, a new figure wearing an obviously officer
uniform, and a beautiful oriental woman in a white blouse and
pants.
"I am Kina, I will interpret for this man, Colonel Kragg.
The Sargent tells us you've been here two days without food." as
the girl speaks, she pushes pieces of biscuit into the cage, in
front of her mouth. She eats hungrily without use of her hands,
finishing with a drink from a tray inside the cage.
"There is little food in the camp, especially meat. You are
fortunate the Sargent thought you so entertaining. Otherwise,
you'd be at the bottom of the latrine by now." the woman moves
beside the cage and slides her hand between the bars. She
fondles and then slides her fingers into her slit, sliding deeper
as the juices flow lubrication. "I spent most of my life in your
country. I went to collage at UCLA. Parts of my family still
live in San Francisco, Sacramento, and Fresno."
The officer draws his sword and rests it's tip between the
bars and under her chin, lifting it to see her eyes. He
exchanges unknown words with the women. The women in white
speaks, "Which one of these men used his cock in you?"
Terrified to answer, she looks around through the bars. She
sees the Sargent lifting the flap of a holster, reaching for his
gun. She looks back at the woman and answers, "On one."
"But your body tells me differently." coys the women in
white.
Before she could blink, the sword whistles through the air
and past the Sargent as a warning. There is a look of both
terror and puzzlement on the Sargent's face as he stands
motionless and then slowly falls forward. As he falls across a
chair, his head leaves his body, slides across the table, and
comes to rest when it hits the cage, dead eyes looking up at her.
The body and head are removed as the women speaks, "I must
admit, I find you very entertaining myself. Appearances are
sometimes deceiving. My father is General Khan. Because of him,
I do as I please without challenge. You are Colonel Kragg's
prisoner, but I may influence his decisions. I will give you one
warning: You are useful alive only as long as he thinks you have
information. Tell him what he wants to know or tell him a lie,
you will terminated quicker then the Sargent!".
The question is put to her, first from the Colonel, then in
English from the woman, "Why are you here?"
Fearing her earlier warning, she can only answer with
silence.
A wave of the Colonel's hand, two men turn large wheels at
her feet, pulling her body tight against it's bonds. A whip
across her stomach, twice, three times. She winces and yelps
with each.
The question, the silence, she moans loudly as the chains
tighten beyond her limits. The whip finds its place across her
breasts, again and again, then to her thighs and mound, biting
the cheeks of her ass as the tip orbits her hips.
Sweating all over from trying to pull against the force, she
hears the women say, "Ah, you poor thing. You're bleeding!"
The women stoops between her legs and begins licking a small
cut on the inside of her thigh. Down and then up her leg, then
over and spreading her slit with her tongue. Despite, or maybe
because of the pain from taunt arm and leg muscles, she begins to
moan and tense with pleasure as the woman fingers her while she
licks.
She is so into her mood, she doesn't notice as the Colonel
ties two corners of a handkerchief around her neck, allowing the
remainder to cover her face. Two soldiers are positioned at her
sides and begin to lick and suck her nipples and breasts. Two
others stroke her legs and lick her stomach and hips.
Just as she begins to groan with delight and whisper
"PPPpppllllleeeeaaaasssse!" she could feel herself let go to the
sensation. Water. Water falls across the handkerchief, slowly
at first. As the fabric becomes more saturated, breathing
becomes more difficult and labored. The four soldiers and women
continue without stop, as she begins to panic; caught between the
pleasure and the urgency for air. The water continues, she sucks
hard to pull a few gasps through the wet material. The adrenalin
flows throughout her, hardening her nipples beyond rocks, tensing
her breasts, rushing her clit as the tongue surrounds it.
She cums, screaming, heart pounding, arms pulling, hands
clenching, SHE CUMS HARD!
"Today is Colonel Kragg's birthday" the woman explains. You
are going to be my present to him.
She is too turned on to care as she hears him enter the
room. She needs and wants too badly to object as he slides his
cock into her, filling her roughly at first. She moans as the
smell of brimstone touches her nostrils and she hears unfamiliar
words to the familiar tune of "Happy Birthday to You".
Birthday candles down her spin and across the top of her
hips light the room as she loses herself to the pumping cock
inside her. The first touch of dripping wax causes her to flinch
onto the cock, causing a chain reaction of wax drips, she gasps a
breath as the hot chorus hit her backside.
"He will have you until the candles burn out. Ass, cunt,
mouth, whatever he chooses. If you wiggle too much and a candle
blows out, he has been commanded to replace his cock with his
sword!" the women tells her.
She does not have to be told, she is enjoying her punishment
too much to disturb it!
I've been gone the last 8 days ... war prisoner somewhere,
sometime ... how does he do it? ... when he puts me to sleep and
wakes me there ... real or dream? ... must be real when he has me
dangling there ... so cruel this time ... so much fear ... so
much force ... so much control ... so much SEX ... the women so
beautiful ... so turned on by her ... I know it was real, wasn't
it? (still sore) ... how could someone actually do this to
me? ... how could I LOVE TO FEEL IT so much? ... how could I be
so horny thinking about it?
He spends so much time doing this to me ... he knows what I
want ... what I need ... what I can't get from Dick... God help
me, I love Munk so.
p.s.
Where did he get the alligators???????
s.
Just so you won't have to ask, I live in the Midwest outside
Kansas City.
If you like anything I've written, please feel free to tell
me. I welcome and invite any and all emails.
If you're a lurking sub, please take the next step and Email
me. I will be happy to share and will always reply with honesty
and openness.
Thanks!
103236.3204@compuserve.com The Munk
Path: bull.hkstar.net!hk.linkage.net!uunet!in2.uu.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.compuserve.com!newsmaster From: 103236.3204@compuserve.com (the_munk) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories Subject: Sherry#09: You Couldn't Do That On a Bicycle (Repost) Date: 23 Jul 1996 02:48:26 GMT Organization: BD Lines: 202 Message-ID: <4t1ehq$dij@arl-news-svc-3.compuserve.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: hd20-162.compuserve.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: Text/Plain; charset=US-ASCII X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.99.7 Xref: bull.hkstar.net alt.sex.bondage:188847 alt.sex.stories:149501
Sherry#09: You Couldn't Do That On a Bicycle (Repost) (see Sherry#00: Background, . . .)
She sleeps, covered only by a sheet. My hand slides slowly
under and to her shoulder. I touch her. She does not stir. As
I tickle her down her spine and then scratch back up, she turns
on her stomach to allow herself to be more accessible. Though
I've touched her many times, we've never spent the night
together.
My hand descends past her cheeks to her thighs. I knead
from the side, and down, taking in every inch to her ankles,
feet, and toes. Slowly working up, both hands on her right
thigh, she spreads herself slightly. Up, slowly, up and
encompassing her perineum against the side of my hand as her hip
is worked from both sides. Hand slipping around her cheek, I
move up her back and to her shoulders. Down to the waist and
left leg. Up slowly, working on both sides of her thigh and then
up as before with the other side, hand at her crotch.
An hour passes. As I move up from her thighs, I slide my
hands on either side of her cheeks and squeeze her "love handles"
tightly. As I do, she rolls her hips forward, pressing her mound
into the mattress. She turns over, remaining under the sheet,
but in full reach of my touches. As I touch her stomach and then
mound so softly my fingers couldn't perceive, she rolls her hips
up to greet me.
She watches me. Her eyes now almost glassy, fixated on my
eyes, lost in the mood. I touch her breasts. As I squeeze each
in each hand she closes her eyes and moans as her hips rise, "Its
been too long".
I pause, but retain my touch, now on her stomach and mound.
Her eyes are filled with me, drinking me in. I watch her
watching me, savoring the her look.
She asks softly, "What would you like to do next?"
"If you were giving yourself to me, I'd have to tie your
hands and ankles, spreading you, keeping you open so I can lick
and touch you anywhere, any way, and whenever I please", I reply.
"There's some old sheets in the closet. Tear them into
strips", she whispers.
As I fashion what was to be her bindings, she watches every
move intently. As I approach her, she pushes up her arms, sheet
still covering all, but her head, neck and wrists. Quickly I
work and tie each wrist to a corner of the brass bed before she
changes her mind. I pick up another linen strip and as I
approach, her foot and ankle appear out of the corner of the
sheet near the foot.
Following my every move with her eyes, I tie a strip to her
ankle, pull her leg hard to remove any slack in her arm ties, and
tie the ankle firmly to the corner. Repeating with the other
leg, I ask as I finish the last knot, "Are you warm enough?"
"Why do you want to know? Are you going to take the sheet
off?" she asks softly.
"I want to know your nipples are mine, not the air
conditioner's. Besides, I like to breathe when my tongue is
inside you", I reply.
Ripping back the sheet, she lay before me in all her
splendor and beauty. I start at her ankle, working up and
finally engaging her slit with my tongue. She rolls and pumps to
my tongue's penetration. I squeeze each of her cheeks until I
think she'll scream from pain and lift her even tighter against
my mouth, her "lips", my tongue, my lips, beard tickling her
perineum and thighs, mustache coaxing her clitoris.
She begins pumping uncontrollably. Without touching her,
she tries her best to make herself cum. Her eyes pleading, then
her lips, "Please, I need it. You don't know how much I need
it!".
"I DO know how much. Remember when you were touching me,
teasing me and just left in the middle? Remember yesterday, you
made me promise not to fuck you when I massaged you and made you
cum with my tongue?" I spoke, moving my touch to her dripping
slit.
"I'll do anything you want. Just fuck me, NOW!", she
pleads.
"My price is high. For me to break my pledge, you'll have
to become my property, my slave. If I want to slide into your
ass, you'll not only spread yourself for me, you'll put on the
lube." as I say this, while my fingers tease her slit, I let my
little finger circle her anus, sending chills throughout her.
"At any time, even just to clean your juices off me, you'll
have to suck my cock. Do you think you can do that?"
"YYYyyeeesss! If it means you'll fuck me over and over,
anything!" she pants.
"And how about this pledge? How will I punish you for
wanting it?" I ask sternly.
"Man handle me. I need to be roughed up", she whispers.
Untying and retying one knee up high, her ass is rolled up
on it's side. My hand stings as I slap her ass. At the same
instant, she lurches, as if startled, then slowly recoils as her
lips release, "ooooowwwww!".
A few more swats and she is breathing heavily. My belt
slips out of my trousers and replaces my hand. Only a few swats
and she is panting. I release her pulled up leg and return her
to her spread eagle position. As the cool sheet touches her
rear, she jerks and then settles down, still breathless.
"Are you ready to please me?", holding my cock in front of
her face.
She nods and opens her mouth. As I straddle her, my body
settles on her, my mouth to her slit. She takes me in as my
tongue sinks into her. The more she circles my head, the more I
circle her clitoris. The more passionately she sucks, the more
my beard tickles her lips. As she is about to cum, I slid deep
into her, pushing the back of her throat, and after a second,
pull out. Finally, I cum as she sucks me dry, pumping her slit
on my lips as she does.
She has lost touch with reality when I raise up and turn
around. She eyes closed, she hunkers the air without me, lost in
the feeling, lost in the lust, lost in the hunger.
Between her legs, facing her, her face at my chest, my
cock's head finds her slit, a wet, warm mass rising to meet every
touch. Through her lips the head slides and her hunkering
suddenly stops, her body begins to quake. IN HARD! I plunge and
hit bottom. Pumping in, out, she shakes and tenses every muscle,
the veins in her neck bulge, until pain in her face turns
instantly to joy. I grab her hair and pull her head back as I
force my lips to her mouth and cup her breast with my other hand.
She cums. She shakes as if just finishing the last steps of a
marathon. Her mouth opens and slowly releases a moan into our
open kiss. As if she found her second wind, she pumps with me,
faster and faster. I feel her clenching my cock again and again
until slowly, after what seems hours, the greeting fades.
I collapse next to her. A minute, an hour, who knows how
long? I rise and return with warm, moist towels and begin wiping
her head and shoulders. She lies motionless as I loosen and free
her ankles. I carefully sooth her legs with towel, gently roll
her on her side and pull the top knee forward. My towel wipes
and cleans her hips, thighs, and then very slowly, between them.
Her eyes open as a smile graces her face and she "uummm"s as if
just tasting something sweet.
"Lay on me." she whispers.
As I roll her over, hands still bound over her head, I touch
her stomach and mound, slowly sliding down to her slit. As if an
uncontrollable reflex her hips rock upward to meet my touch. Her
eyes are wide open and look deeply into mine. As I move to lay
on her, my stomach pushes against her mound and slit, being met
by the rolling of her hips. I pull her breast up and suck its
nipple as my cock slides in. She's lost in her world of feeling,
drinking in every touch, every sensation.
The day is still young.
... being helpless ... under his control ... so love his
cock ... so love the FEELINGS he makes me feel ... when he has me
dangling ... so much force ... so much control ... so much
SEX ... (still sore) ... why can I get so horny just thinking
about it ... how could I LOVE TO FEEL IT so much?
God help me, I love Munk so.
s.
Postscript:
Just so you won't have to ask, I live in the Midwest outside
Kansas City.
If you like anything I've written, please feel free to tell
me. I welcome and invite any and all emails.
If you're a lurking sub, please take the next step and Email
me. I will be happy to share and will always reply with honesty
and openness.
Thanks!
103236.3204@compuserve.com The Munk
Path: bull.hkstar.net!hk.linkage.net!uunet!in2.uu.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.compuserve.com!newsmaster From: 103236.3204@compuserve.com (the_munk) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories Subject: Sherry#10: Genital on my Mind Date: 23 Jul 1996 02:49:33 GMT Organization: BD Lines: 189 Message-ID: <4t1ejt$dij@arl-news-svc-3.compuserve.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: hd20-162.compuserve.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: Text/Plain; charset=US-ASCII X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.99.7 Xref: bull.hkstar.net alt.sex.bondage:188848 alt.sex.stories:149502
Sherry#10: Genital on my Mind (see Sherry#00: Background, . . .)
She found her way to the baggage claim. Waiting, she scans
the faces of the others circled around the carousel. A light
flashes and she hears the machinery start, pulling her wandering
eye from it's search.
Endless bags and boxes pass. She catches sight of hers,
following it around to her outstretched hand. As she grasps the
handle and pulls it toward her, another hand closes over hers.
Quite startled, she turns to see the hand's possessor, but finds
herself off balance, unable to release her grip, caught between
the satchel's weight and the strong hand around her's.
She falls backward into the quicksand of bags that pass, but
an arm catches her around the waist and pulls her tight against
his tall body. Regaining her footing, she looks into the eyes of
the Good Samaritan. Warmly they meet her's as if to drink in
every feature of her sole.
"Munk?" she asks meekly.
"My mind's eye doesn't due you justice! Careful, she'd
enjoy a hospital bed much less then you would mine." she hears,
still looking into my eyes.
Safely in the car, we're on our way. She touches my knee as
if to be sure I'm really there, that she isn't dreaming. I slide
my hand under hers, lift it to my lips and kiss her knuckles,
turn it, kiss she wrist, and then her palm.
"You're more beautiful then I could ever imagine" as my lips
withdraw.
We arrive, secluded, a cottage cloaked by Elm and Cedar,
huge from the passing of time. Surrounded by pasture and field,
its an island of green. She settles in and joins me on a bench
swing on the shady porch. A cool breeze filled with the scent of
Lilacs and Honeysuckle bathes us as I wrap my arm around her and
pull her close. A Red Tail sails almost frozen, holding his
station in the breeze, searching pasture with a keen eye. The
setting sun brings Doves to the Ceders, cuing their evening love
song.
As I feel her relax to the rhapsody, I pull her closer,
catch her chin with my free hand and direct her face upward to
mine. I look into her eyes and as I see them widen, lean over
and kiss her face and lips. She closes her eyes as I feel her
yield to my advances, soon moaning into our open kiss, welcoming
and beckoning my touch.
I slide my arm under her legs and lift her. As I do, she
circles my neck with her arms and lays her head on my shoulder.
I carry her to her room. Her eyes speaking words no lips could
express, I slowly open her blouse, touching she, loosening her
bra. I kiss her as my hand finds her breasts and nipples. As
she opens her mouth and explores mine with her tongue, my touch
slides down her stomach, down to her mound. She pushes me back,
and with the look of wanting, yearning in her eyes, pulls my
hands to her waist, signaling without word to finish what I had
started with her blouse.
No clothing left on her, I lay on her, cradled by legs and
thighs. My mouth is at her stomach, kissing, licking, as my
hands cup her rear, lifting she to meet me. I work down, my
tongue giving special attention to her thighs and back up,
slowly. As my mouth reaches her breasts, I lick between them,
kiss them, suck and nibble her nipples.
Her hips rising, pushing against me, I raise her hands and
encircle them with waiting shackles hanging from the headboard.
"You're only suppose to react to me, to feel what I evoke
from you." I tell her.
I turn her over and work on her back, waist, and legs. I
kiss her neck and nibble her ears as I'm touching. The back of
her knees, the small of her back, nothing is missed. As I rub
oil I miss no chance to slide my fingers through she slit, across
her ass, and between her cheeks. As she becomes so turned on she
clamps her thighs together and hunkers toward the sheets, I
attach her ankles to either end of a pole, spreading, separating,
and keeping her open to my advances.
I eventually turn her over on her back. The center of the
ankle spreader bar is tied to the foot of the bed. I pull a
sheet over her. As my hand continues to touch and slide through
her slit, I find her mouth is open to mine, craving my kiss.
"I'm going to let you rest after your trip. The sheet
should keep you warm enough that I'll know your nipples are mine,
not the cold's. Get your rest, I have much planned for you
tomorrow." I tell her, stand, and leave, turning out the light
as I go.
I awake to the sounds of howls and yips. I rise and walk to
her room without lighting any lights along the way. She's still
as I left she, but bathed in the glow of a full moon. I move to
her side and find her whimpering, a tear glistens in the
moonlight.
As I sit on the bed I say, "Its OK. They're just looking
for food. Five or six are usually here at least twice a week,
but tonight there's a few more. They can be overwhelming if
you've never been this close before. If you'd like, I'll lay by
you a while.", all the time touching her stomach and legs.
"I'd like that", she replies. "I'm so afraid!"
I slide under the sheet next to her, still bound as before.
I lie on my side, my knee on her mound, my foreleg across her
slit. I dry her tears, kiss her face, and touch her as I talk to
her. The touches become more erotic and she becomes lost in the
mood, not hearing my words. By the time the Coyotes have left
she is rolling her hips, rubbing her wetness against my leg.
A Great Horned Owl announces his presences with his "Hoo,
hoo, hoot, hoooo".
"Don't worry, its one of the children of the night." I say
in my best Bella Lagosi voice.
She's too into feeling the pleasure to hear. I slide down
between her legs and begin, licking her thighs, touching her
slit, licking her slit, ramming my tongue in and then up around
her clitoris. My hands are on her ass, lifting, pulling her
harder against my mouth. As I work up to her breasts and then
her neck, she feels my hard cock across her thighs and then ride
nestled between the wet folds of her slit, it's head resting on
her mound. I grab her head with both hands and plant my mouth
hard against hers. As she opens her mouth and attempts to moan,
"Fuck me, fuck me!", I ram my cock into her. She groans with
delight and her body rolls up to meet me. My hands are still on
her head, pulling her body down harder onto me. My feet are on
the pole between her ankles, allowing me to push quite hard as I
pump and ram my cock. Within a few strokes, she's cumming, over
and over, screaming "Don't stop!". I don't. 30 minutes, an
hour, who knows how long before she relaxes, still panting.
As she regains her breath, I cuddle and hold she.
Eventually, I remove the ankle ties and untie the wrist rope from
the headboard. I retie the rope above the bed, lift her to her
knees, and tie her hands above her head.
"I think you have a few more orgasms left in you" I say as I
slide underneath she.
Lifting, I slide her down on my cock. She wastes no time
pumping, riding my member as I touch her breasts and stomach,
finger her clitoris, and help pump by lifting and dropping her by
her ass cheeks.
Almost there... , almost there... , almost ready to cum as I
turn on a vibrator and lay it on my stomach where the top of her
slit hits when she drops around my cock. She cums and cums with
her whole body. I see it in every moonlit muscle. I hear it in
her raspy voice (or whatever is coming from her lips), I feel it
in the shivers from her legs, but most of all, my cock explodes
as I feel her twitching around it. Over and over, until I can
coax no more from it.
I let her arms down and clean us with a warm moist towel. I
spoon up around her from behind, slowly, gently touching her.
She can feel my cock hardening, nestled in the cradle of the
cheeks of her ass. With some time, I feel her nipples hardening
under my touch. The night is still young, her visit long from
over.
Postscript:
Just so you won't have to ask, I live in the Midwest outside
Kansas City.
If you like anything I've written, please feel free to tell
me. I welcome and invite any and all emails.
If you're a lurking sub, please take the next step and Email
me. I will be happy to share and will always reply with honesty
and openness.
Thanks!
103236.3204@compuserve.com The Munk
Path: bull.hkstar.net!hk.linkage.net!uunet!in2.uu.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.compuserve.com!newsmaster From: 103236.3204@compuserve.com (the_munk) Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.stories Subject: Sherry#11: Infamous Insect Date: 23 Jul 1996 02:50:53 GMT Organization: BD Lines: 279 Message-ID: <4t1emd$dij@arl-news-svc-3.compuserve.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: hd20-162.compuserve.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: Text/Plain; charset=US-ASCII X-Newsreader: WinVN 0.99.7 Xref: bull.hkstar.net alt.sex.bondage:188849 alt.sex.stories:149503
Sherry#11: Infamous Insect (see Sherry#00: Background, . . .)
I sat in the car waiting. Parked in front of the terminal,
I can see the flight arrivals, she should have been here an hour
ago.
Finally, there she is, smiling, grinning ear to ear, waving
happily when she sees me.
She opens the back door as I load her luggage on the seat.
I return to behind the wheel while she climbs in front. Driving
away, she is beaming with smiles and giggles. She touches and
squeezes my hand as if to be sure I'm there with her.
"I've missed you so much, I can't wait 'til you get me
home!" she says.
"You're late. What kept you?" I ask.
Silence. And then, with her little girl look and sad eyes a
weak, "Just busy."
"Open the glove box" I tell her.
Slowly, she does, looks around as if expecting a surprise
present and asks "What am I looking for?"
"Don't play coy, you know what. Get them out and put them
on for me."
Dragging out a pair of handcuffs, she reluctantly loops one
around her right wrist and squeezes it in place. Just as she
starts the second, I say "NO! Not in front!"
"You know I don't like them in back while we're riding" she
pleads.
Grabbing a handful of her hair, I jerk it back and down,
holding it there; forcing her head back and chin up.
"You heard me, you little tramp. DO IT!"
Slowly, as not to pull hair from my grip, she complies.
"That's better." I release my hold and continue driving.
The remaining 20 minutes passes in silence.
Arriving home, I drive into the garage and push the button
to lower the door. I didn't bother with the luggage. Instead, I
help her stand and head her inside and toward the basement. My
hand grips the cuffs behind her, pulling up and forcing her in
the direction I want her to go. Down the stairs and into our
makeshift dungeon, still remaining silent.
When we arrive, a noose hangs from the ceiling, not just a
lasso, a hangman's noose. She digs in her heels and tries to
stay away, but succumbs to her wrenching shoulders when I pull up
her arms by the cuffs. The noose is looped over her head,
tightened, and I pull down on the free end (looped through a
pulley) to remove the slack. The free end is then looped under
the handcuff chain, pulled until she is forced to bend over
slightly and grunt from the pain. The rope is tied off to hold
her in the position.
Stooping down, I remove her shoes, one at a time. As she
settles on her bare feet, she closes her eyes, winching from the
pain caused by her slightly shorter height pulling harder on the
rope above.
She sees a razor in my hand, an old fashioned straight
razor. She pleads, "Please don't cut my uniform. I don't have
any left. Do whatever, just take it off without ruining it."
Her suit crotch is wet, soaked from her juices flowing from
excitement.
The blade finds its place at her belt line in front.
Tracing down, following the inseam around and between the legs,
up to the belt line in back, her trousers and panties fall around
her ankles in two pieces.
Her hair is gathered back as a leather helmet is snugged
around her head. The straps are cinched down hard closing off
her eyes and muffling all sounds. The zipper across the mouth is
opened to allow her to speak, for now.
I leave her there, in silence as I prepare. She hangs for
an hour, occasionally wiggling trying to find a better position,
her wetness gathering and marking a little path down the inside
of one leg.
Finally, the rope is untied from the cuffs, she breaths in
heavily from relief as her arms drop. The rope is retied to a
hook on the wall, holding her standing by the noose.
When cuffs are removed, she hasn't the strength to rub her
wrists, let alone resist as her jacket and blouse are opened and
removed, or her bra snagged by the razor and taken from her. Her
tired arms are directed into a straight jacket she couldn't see.
She is strapped tight up the back and the arm flaps cross in
front, around, and buckled in back.
A crotch strap is brought between her legs to hold the
jacket down. It nestles in, separating the cheeks of her ass as
the buckle is worked tighter and tighter.
A frame is now behind her. This is a health frame
originally sold to suspend a person by the ankles, balanced in
such a way that by sitting forward or leaning backward, the
person could control being rotated upside down or downside up.
Her ankles are strapped in place. Straps on the helmet are
attached to the top bar. She cannot lean to control her
attitude, but she begins to realized she is going for a ride and
struggles uselessly as the noose is removed.
"ooooOOOOOHHHHHH!" she says as she rotates around and hung
by the ankles in surprise.
Crotch strap loosened, my two fingers push into her wetness
without resistance. I part her lips and tease her clitoris
as I search and find her urethra entrance. A hypo, with needle
removed, is directed to this spot, it's short blunt tip directed
at the duct and a few CCs of a solution squirted. Additional
solution is dribbled across her as it is rubbed into her clit and
throughout her lips, allowing it to flow into her vagina held
open by the two fingers inside it. I continue until she is
full, solution held like wine in a glass. The crotch strap is
snugged tight again, parting her lips and cheeks.
Within moments, she begins bucking the strap. Bucking turns
to writhing, writhing turning to rolling and pumping as if an
invisible cock was teasing her, about to enter her as she hangs
upside down.
"ooooOOOOOOhhhHHHHHH Please! God I need it so bad. I've
never wanted cock this bad before!" she pleads.
Bucking and struggling violently, I silence her pleadings by
stuffing gauze rolls between her teeth and forcing the zipper
closed on her helmet. She is raised to allow the blood to flow
better, but tilted enough to hold the solution in her.
An hour passes, another, and a third. She is still bucking
and straining the crouch strap, but it moves with her and she
couldn't get any leverage to work it against her clit. Her head
rolls back and forth, her breathing heavy and raspy through the
helmet holes at her nose. Moaning (or wailing?), more like a
load humming, poring from the helmet without a pause. Sweat from
her everywhere, like dew on her legs, soaking the straight
jacket.
I raise her upright and touch the hot cheek of her ass. As
I gently stroke her, I see her tense her whole body and rise on
her toes, repeating, and pumping her feet as a sound (as if a
muffed scream) comes from her. She goes limp, settles down,
lifelessly quite. FAINTED!
I recline her back long enough to bring the blood to her
head and revive her, then right her again.
I touch the outside of her thigh, she bucks wildly, the
muffled scream, and she faints.
I revive her, open the eye flaps on the helmet and see the
pain of lust in her. I stand where she see can see me stroke my
hard cock, masturbating in from of her, she struggles wildly, I
hear the muted cry, and she faints.
I revive her, grab and fondle her ass, she fights and
faints. I revive her, lick her calves, she fights and faints. I
revive her, tickle her behind the knees, she fights and faints.
I revive her, BLEW ON HER ASS and thighs, she fights and
faints.
This time after I revive her, I tie her knees together and
carry her to a padded reclining bench, down at the head to keep
the blood to her brain. On her stomach, I strap her ankles and
then knees to poles extending from the bench, spreading her wide.
Arms are unstrapped, the back of the straight jacket slowly
unbuckled, and removed. Her arms are stretched over her head and
strapped to the corners of the bench. I use wide leather collars
around wrists and legs in order to allow her to struggle without
the injury handcuffs might inflict.
Her cunt was running thick from hours of frustration. I let
her watch through the helmet as I stoke myself, being sure she
sees how hard I am. Simple as that, I walk around between her
legs and slam into her cunt. She bucks wildly and pulling with
all her strength at the straps. I can feel her cumming around my
cock, a constant squeezing and letting go, almost in rhythm with
my pounding heart.
I pump as she continues to cum, screaming under the helmet
all the time, unable to faint with head reclined down. I pump
and slam her as hard as I can, expecting her to finish at any
moment. I was going to, but held back. I spank her ass, grab a
nearby whip and use it on her back, everything drives her more
insatiable. Finally I cum deep inside her.
She is still hunkering and moaning inside her closed world.
Disbelieving, I slide my fingers into her. The contractions are
still here, hammering around my fingers.
Hours go by, she still hunkers when I touch and lick her,
still sweating all over, still cums, but not as easily when I
slide my cock in her. She is worn down, exhausted, napping if I
leave her along for a few minutes.
I remove the helmet to hear her say, "Fuck me. Fuck me
hard. Please fuck me anywhere. Please, just fuck me!"
I force her to drink beer and then water. She had been
sweating and cumming so hard so long I knew she needed water. A
tube to a tumbler is inserted in her mouth and duct tape sealed
shut. I pinch her nose and command her to drink if she wants to
breath. When she needs to purge herself, she is near the
basement floor drain, it merely squirts out on the floor for a
later hosing.
Drink and purge, drink and purge, slide in my cock, work her
over until I cum myself, and check the effect on her. When I
could eventually get no sexual response from her, I carry her to
bed, give her a warm sponge bath, and tuck her in.
She slept the better part of three days.
s.
s.
s.
Just so you won't have to ask, I live in the Midwest outside
Kansas City.
If you like anything I've written, please feel free to tell
me. I welcome and invite any and all emails.
If you're a lurking sub, please take the next step and Email
me. I will be happy to share and will always reply with honesty
and openness.
Thanks!
103236.3204@compuserve.com The Munk
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