I had all I could of him, having orgasm after orgasm, screaming fuck fuck fuck after each and every thrust until he finally filled me with his hot cream.
You can be free
anytime you just say the words and that you only ever enter into your
“Do you love him?”
she asked me.
“Who? Eddie? I said.
“Yes, of course,” she
“Um, yes, I do,” I said. I felt it was honest, although I was scared she’d get mad. “Do you?” I asked her in return.
“I don’t know what that even is,” she said. I had to admit, when I thought about it, I didn’t know either. There were the feelings, the intense physical and emotional feelings that gave me an indication, the longing, the obsession to be with him, to know where he was when he wasn’t with me. There came with it the waves of insanity, the undressing so to speak of the psyche. The loss of pride. Of will. It felt like being thrown into a dungeon seemingly of my own volition but there was a fatalistic quality about it too, as if I resented or even hated him for the power he possessed, especially coupled with the fact that he could still go away and be with other women just like that, that he wasn’t as weak or obsessed as I was.
“I don’t know what that is either,” I said. “It’s such a…a…an inaccurate word. It means something different to everyone, and everybody argues about what it is and what it isn’t. But it can’t be defined because it’s too vague. Do I want him and need him? Yes. Can I survive without him? I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I can.”
“Love, to me, is an ideal,” she said. “How many ideals in real life do you know of? It’s like saying, at least to me, ‘I care for you when you are who I want you to be.’ The truth is much more subtle, evasive, difficult to pin down. We all want something out of the bargain – to be ‘loved’ in return. We’re willing to make compromises to make this work somehow. Really we should just be happy with the people we’re with, in the moment. We can’t keep them – make them sit still, not forever. Not without causing us and them a lot of pain. Don’t get me wrong, you can believe what you want to believe, feel the way you feel, you can lie to yourself and to others for whatever temporary peace it may give you, but I prefer to be honest, to say, I want you now – come here. That’s why sexuality is a big part of it. It’s honest, more honest than words.”
That immediacy she seemed
to speak of was what I was after, but I also mistook that quite often
for permanence. The man would leave. They always did.
“I just want to be with you here, now, Connie,” I said. “That’s what makes me happy.”
“And I with you,” she said, followed by a brief pause. “I want to do something with you, to you, to give you something, some perspective, some experience. I want you to trust me. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, I do,” I said.
got up and went down the hall to the bedroom again, this time
returning with a thick brown leather strap. It got me excited pretty
she going to whip me? I
would be her dog. Was
she going to tie me up? I
would be her hostage.
“Kneel,” she said. “Bring your hands behind your back.” I did as I was told. Let the kinky games begin I thought. She tightly bound my wrists with the strap. “Now, stand up.”
It was hard to do so with
my arms tied behind my back but I managed it. She then led me into a
room in the house that I had not yet discovered, a room without
windows, walls covered with thick wood panels, dark, industrial-pile
carpeting, the kind that skins the fuck out of your knees, with the
only other adornment visible being a small wattage light bulb hanging
down from the ceiling with a pull chain – pull once and a dim light
might illuminate a face but not any of the shady corners, pull again
and total blackness. I was still bound of course by the leather strap
and was otherwise completely naked.
“Kneel,” she ordered.
She clicked the light
off. Total darkness. But I could still smell and feel her incredible
skin as she pressed her belly against my eager mouth. I kissed it
repeatedly as she ran her fingers through my hair. My mouth wandered
down to her pubic hair and eventually my tongue tasted her swollen
clit, which was ripe for my affection.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I sighed.
your mouth,” she said. I complied, finding it immediately filled
with a thick plastic object I identified quickly as the life-like
come-shotting dildo, the huge
one I had experienced before.
you still have
“Don’t talk,” she
said. “Suck it until it warms in your mouth, until the saliva is
too much to take and you have to have it inside you.”
That didn’t take long.
“Lay down, on your
side.” I did as ordered.
She parted my labia with the girth that was just recently in my mouth and the remaining saliva and my domestic juices made it slide in easily, although I found myself swallowing hard as it inserted deeper and deeper into my pussy. All eight inches were in me now, she turned on the vibration function and began to fuck me hard with it. I writhed on the floor, skinning half my body in the process as I came in ecstasy. The sensory deprivation was utter, save for her tool and what it was doing to me. I thought of Eddie and the dark — the blindfold experience — feeling him all around me with his hands, his mouth, his eyes.
My next recollection, for it’s difficult to remember it all during the overwhelming wave of emotion both sexual and mental, was indeed just like being knocked over by angry surf as I hurt, literally hurt for what and by what and in what ways, in a manner I didn’t know – couldn’t fathom. I couldn’t really tell if I was alive or dead; my mind was active but I couldn’t be sure if it was a dream or my spirit was somehow carrying on in a sort of limbo, if not in a plain old black hell. I’m guessing my body shut down, locked, totally, and I drifted off into a sort of unconscious state, much like mental imagery, but with none or very little memory. I felt colors, saw sounds, vibrating inside me that were, I thought, audible to me and to the world, but it was impossible to tell. I couldn’t and wouldn’t speak, even if I knew the words. What I can tell for sure is I finally awoke, in the total darkness – if you can call it an awakening, to a voice, the known voice of Connie Blair.
“Wanda,” she said.
“Yes, I’m here,” I
said, choking somewhat, not having used my voice for what seemed like
she said. “Remember,
all you have to say to be free is to say
‘I am free.’”
I remember,” I said. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I felt just
fine bound in the darkness, laying on my side, drifting in and out of
consciousness. I could barely feel my body, presumably my arms and
legs were asleep or completely numb. I wasn’t being stupid and I
wasn’t pretending or even playing a role. I was just being,
at the hands of my mistress, at the behest of time. I drifted off
into some other space, a dreamless void with no sensation, no
I regained consciousness
and sensed pretty quickly though that I was no longer the only one in
the room. My heart raced. I could feel another breath.
“Who’s there?” I
“No questions,” Connie said. “You have to just accept. It’s someone you once knew.”
managed to get up to my knees with my arms still tied behind me.
I once knew.
So there were three of us in the room. How long had I been out?
Hours? Days? I had so many questions but no voice to ask them. That
had been removed.
I heard whatever it was — whoever it was — breathing heavily in the dark. I could smell its almost musty qualities, and soon found my face exploring the inner thighs of a hairy, presumably male creature. His characteristics were not unfamiliar.
I said, after a feverish race to recall the name that went with the
the hell was he
thought. I wanted to ask, out-loud, but still no voice.
“Wanda,” he uttered.
“Quiet,” she said.
“He also does not speak.”
I was very exited. Fuck me. John, here, naked in the dark with her and me. I remembered well his lustful thunder. I needed his cock now more than ever. I had heard about he and Connie in the past, that he would visit her up here when I was having my tryst with Eddie. Everything fit now. Here I was though, thinking it was just us girls and liking it so, so much. But then there was a man – a wordless beast. What could we… what couldI make out of this situation? Anything I wanted to.
I found his balls with my
mouth and fondled them ravenously with my tongue. A fat cock grew and
lay across my nose and forehead. It was a lovely sensation. His sighs
were all that he could offer and its hesitancy, resistance to release
or expulsion – explosion, filled the dark room with a palpable
I finally pursed my lips around its fat head and slowly engulfed his cock, feeling it going in my mouth and throat, releasing, spitting on it as it receded from my grasp, only to capture it again. This tug of war went on and on – who knows for how long, time had escaped me, there was only the now, and the now was dark, moist and hot.
With a final flick of my tongue under the delicate head of his cock, gobs of hot come flashed all over my cheeks, forehead and mouth. A beautiful thing, even in the dark. I realized that the lack of sight only intensified the sensation of feeling him on me. I sucked and sucked it, draining every available drop into my waiting mouth. It was so good to taste the essence of man again, and he was as good a man as any I had known.
I laid back down on the floor to return to my unconscious world, com-smeared, but in ecstasy. It was so good. So hot. So welcome. Connie had delivered me a special gift. The door opened and closed again. Not another sound followed, except a ringing in my head.
thought. A question. Too many questions. He
had lost his wife again, poor thing. He
was here to commiserate. To fuck. He didn’t fuck me. Not yet. He
will. I will make sure of it.
said all I had to do is say the words and I could walk out of here,
hands untied, things returning to normal. But I didn’t want that.
Not yet. That was boring, mundane. Nothing truly awe-inspiring was
going to happen that way. Sure, I was bound, alone in a dark room,
scratched up, covered in come, but I wasn’t a captive. I was here
because I wanted to be. Connie had taught me that. Whether it was a
good place or a bad place, I
All I had to do now was wait until the door and the light to come
again. So I slept, until then.
The door opened. The
light clicked on. In the haze I saw John, naked as I had felt him
before, and Connie, beautiful sexy Connie wearing a dominatrix outfit
complete with long leather gloves, which gripped his stiff cock. She
knelt, massaging his cock with her talented mouth, spitting on it,
putting it back in her mouth.
“On your knees,” she
ordered. She was talking to him. I was already laying in a heap.
got down on his knees. I just then noticed he was also bound behind
his back. I got up on my knees and backed toward him. She inserted
his hard cock into my waiting pussy and I proceeded to fuck the shit
out of my dick as my knees dug deeper into the carpet, my face
rubbing against the unforgiving floor. He was also gagged.
Good thing. He shouldn’t talk. Just kneel and let me get off on
which I did with an explosive, gushing orgasm. I bucked him wildly
and was so slippery that I fell off of him several times, but Connie
guided him back in. I had all I could of him, having orgasm after
orgasm, screaming fuck
fuck fuck after
each and every thrust until he finally filled me with his hot cream.
God… that is so
good… so good.
pulled him out and I continued to kneel face down and let him drip
out of me. It was magical. Fuck.
I was either going insane or becoming sane for the first time. How
could I know? Who could know besides myself?
“Get the fuck out,” I said, once I had regained what little composure was possible, and some part of my voice apparently. I was not chastised for speaking. Now I wanted to be alone. But I also didn’t want this “nightmare” to stop. It was a dream, a fantasy where I could be anyone I wanted to be, for as long as I wanted to be. I was a queen, even though I was bound. I understood, if only a little. I, me, the Wanda that lived and breathed in this world, she was all there was. And fuck those who couldn’t be me. Fuck them.
Yes. I was still so angry. I didn’t know why. Maybe I needed to be a little angry. Maybe a lot angry. You were either a pussy cat or a lion I thought.
I heard a voice whisper in the dark. It sounded like him.
He wasn’t supposed to be talking. He wasn’t supposed to be
“Are you OK?”
I wanted to return
nothing but silence, but I was curious. And I wanted him again.
“Where’s Connie?” I
I’m not supposed to be in here, but I needed to see you. I wanted
to see you.”
“You shouldn’t be
here or talking to me or at all. Leave.” Was I just sending him
away? Or would he get the game? If he would only be quiet.
whispered. “I’ve missed you. I think…”
“Oh shut up and fuck me
like you did the first night we met. If you can’t do that, get the
fuck out.” I said.
“Why are you so mean?”
“I’m not. I just have no patience for your games and your need. Give me what I want, now, or go. And don’t ever come back.” He was a throw-away. It didn’t matter what I said to him, he would do my will anyway. Oh Eddie, where are you now when I need you?
I felt his cock
stiffening against my ass. I was laying on my side, still bound,
still in utter darkness.
“Wanda,” he said.
“Silence,” I said.
felt the swollen head of his dick between my ass cheeks and against
my needy asshole. Just
put it in goddamn it.
He plunged himself in, kneading my ass with his strong hands. He fucked me ravenously but tenderly, as I screamed and moaned in pleasure, writhing against the carpet, tearing the hell out of my naked flesh. I loved to be fucked in my ass — it reminded me again of my absent love. He wasn’t there, so I had to take what I could get. Why not have a surrogate? Fuck me. Fuck my ass.
I said. “Come on me, now!”
I felt a hot jet of his
cream on my ass cheek followed by more streams of wet warmth on my
waist and arms and even my back. I was covered in him and it felt
right. But that’s where it stopped. He was a fool. I couldn’t
“Wanda,” he groaned.
“I love you.”
I thought. I was outraged.
“Can’t you just, ugh,
be less of a douchebag?” I asked. I was being a total cunt but it
felt so good.
“But…what? Why are
you…why do you?” he stammered.
I made it to my knees and
eventually to my feet. I hadn’t been upright in…who knows how
long. Hours. Days. I kicked into the darkness and heard a smack. I
had kicked that fuckhead right in the face. I heard a thud. I guessed
it was him falling against the wall and floor.
“You asshole!” I
screamed. “How dare you bring that shit this way. You don’t know
anything! Love me? How can you say that after you just fucked my
The door opened and the
light came on. Connie was there, fuming mad.
“What’s going on in
here?” she yelled.
“He came in to fuck me
and then told me he loved me!” I shouted, like I was complaining to
my mommy about being teased.
She balled up a fist and
went to hit him but I told her to stop. I was ready to be untied. I
said the words. “Free me,” and she let loose the strap. I could
barely feel my hands and my wrists were chewed. I didn’t care. I
was alive. I went over to John as he tried to regain his balance and
attempt to stand and before he could I punched him right in the eye
as hard as I was able, which sent him keeling backwards again onto
his back, his cock flailing uselessly. I laughed at his sorry ass.
Connie flew at him and
began slapping the shit out of him. “Can’t trust you, can I?!”
“Can’t trust any of
them!” I chimed in.
After she was done
administering the beating he so richly deserved she ordered him to
get dressed and leave.
Apparently, I had been in
that room since Friday night and it was now late Sunday. Two whole
days were lost in darkness and near silence, yet I felt renewed, or
disgust me you piece of shit,” I said. “You could’ve just done
what you were told and be quiet, but you tried to schmooze me. Me!
Fuck you!” Yes, I was angry, but it was part of breaking out of
this cocoon. Never again was I going to fall for that nonsense,
particularly in that setting. Of all places to speak love! In my
dungeon! That was no room to hear his nonsense. He was lonely,
pathetic and a liar.
hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in almost two days and I had to pee
so badly. I sat on the toilet with my head down in my lap, somehow
relieved, feeling a bit smarter and a lot beaten up. But alive. This
is how you feel when you don’t stand for bullshit anymore
I thought. A paradigm shift. Not that I wanted to be heartless, I
knew that I couldn’t be that, but I wasn’t going to sell myself
so cheaply again, buy into the unscrupulousness of those around me.
Stand my ground. Stand for something. Make it work for me.
Was I being cold and
callous? Maybe. But being demure didn’t work either. If I had to
choose I was going to try to do it my way, never losing sight of what
I wanted and needed, putting myself first, not trying to be what
everyone wanted me to be.