Best S&M, Volume 3 (12 page)

“It says, ‘I am a slut. Please fuck me.’ That’s what you need, isn’t it? To be fucked. By me, by my friends. That’s what you love, to be spread wide and fucked. Say it for me, and I’ll fuck you, slut.”

She teased around my opening as she talked. I was holding my breath. She had actually done it. The fantasy I’d had for years. It was going to happen that night. I couldn’t believe she had done it. She pinched my nipple, jolting me out of my reverie.

“I won’t fuck you til you say it, slut.”

“Please, Sir. I am a slut. Please fuck me, Sir. I am your slut. Please, Sir. I need to get fucked. Please fuck your slut.”

The baton slid in. It was cold and excruciatingly hard. My cunt contracted around it, and it was so unforgivingly, amazingly hard. So hard it ached. Once it was in deep, she kept it still.

“You don’t even need a dick or a hand to come around, do you, slut? You’d come around anything as long as it was hard and deep, wouldn’t you? Alright then, slut. You may cum as much as you want tonight, as long as you make it loud.”

“Oh god, Sir,” I moaned as I came. “It’s so hard, Sir.”

“Yes it is, slut. That’s right. And it’s just the beginning.”

She thrust it into me, and I came again, screaming for her, and it was still there, relentless, so intense that I began to cry.

“That’s my slut. Cry for me. That’s my good slut. Look up and see.”

I did. There he was, the sexy man I had seen earlier with the vampire teeth. He growled in my ear and I came again, moaning. He had metal claws on his fingers and they traced over my skin. My eyes locked on his as he played me with them, watching me tremble. The baton slid out of my cunt and I whimpered as he moved towards my feet. His claws traced my thighs, ripped my fishnets, my cunt spasming, empty. Sir was at my ear, her hand stroking my hair.

“Tell him,” she said.

I couldn’t. I shook my head, my eyes closed, trembling at the sensations his claws were invoking. His teeth sunk into my thigh, and I came, screaming.

“Tell him, or he won’t fuck you,” she said.

I choked on shame as I met his eyes. They looked even more predatory. I felt so naked. I took a deep breath. He took out his cock, and it was beautiful. He put on a condom. I could do this.

“I am a slut. Please fuck me,” I said softly.

He rammed into me. His cock was large and pulsing and so alive. My cunt clamped down and he groaned in response. He bent over and drove his teeth into my neck as he shoved into me. I was cumming in waves; it was one big circuit between his teeth and my cunt, building bigger and bigger. He lifted up and glided his teeth down to worry my nipple. I came hard, milking him as he growled. It went on forever it seemed until he raised his head and slipped out of me.

He moved to stand on my side next to Sir and I felt a slick finger teasing my ass. I looked up and the bear was grinning at me. He was sliding fingerfuls of lube into me and stretching my ass with two fingers.

“Are you going to say it for me, hmm?” he said, his voice lilting. “Are you an ass slut? I bet you are.”

He winked at me as his delicious fingers enticed me. I could see his boy stroking him, keeping his dick hard. It suddenly didn’t seem so serious. I looked up at Sir and she was smiling. The butch-femme couple approached, big grins on their faces. I was surrounded by smiling people, all delighted for the opportunity to fuck me. A weight lifted and the words came easily.

“I am an ass slut. Please fuck me,” I said.

“I thought you might be,” he quipped, and they all chuckled.

He gripped my hips, and eased into my ass. He felt amazing. The vampire leaned in and nipped at my neck. The femme stroked my thigh as her boy took my nipple in her mouth. The bear’s boy fondled my other thigh. Sir leaned in and kissed me. I was surrounded by joy as I came. It rippled through me as the bear fucked my ass, and I could feel it gather in my stomach as it ramped up. He pulled out and gestured to his boy, as he moved up, taking off the condom and putting on a fresh one that smelled like mint. He slipped into my mouth at the same moment his boy entered my ass. He held my head still and they fucked me together. I came, screaming and gagging around his cock as it rammed into my throat. My nipples were pinched, hands stroked my skin. I was covered in sex, dripping with it, on display for all. I joyously thrust back against the cock reaming my ass. I felt so lucky. The orgasm washed over me as it built and built and I began to fly, weightless, soaring on pleasure.

The bear pulled out of my mouth and I could feel myself begin to laugh as my cunt closed on air and my ass clamped down on his boy’s dick. I was surrounded by laughter, we were all laughing as we fucked and kissed and stroked. Everyone was touching and I was the conduit for all that energy, all that connection. Across gender, across orientation, we were sharing pleasure and joy and love.

“I am a slut! Please fuck me!” I shouted gladly for the whole room to hear as the bear’s boy slipped out of my ass.

The femme pulled off her nails and slid on a glove, lubing it up. She stroked the edges of my cunt, teasing me with a grin, and then pushed three fingers right in. She leaned in and blew air right onto my clit, smiling as she felt me contract around her fingers. Her thumb reached up to stroke me and I came right there, moaning loudly.

“Yes!” I yelled.

She eased four fingers in, no problem now. That insistent rubbing built, concentrating around my sacrum, as she twisted her fingers, spreading them. She tucked her thumb in, working with me to slide her whole hand into my cunt. Her boy stroked my clit as she entered me. My breath stopped. I held Sir’s eyes and melted into them, feeling the energy whirl between my breasts. She was reaching right into me, and it felt like Sir reached down to hold her hand inside me, right there at my sternum.

Sir smiled, and said, “That’s my good slut.”

I came, grabbing that fist, screaming, tears streaming out my eyes into my ears. Hands held me, I was cradled and safe and so so full. I looked up and the femme was kissing her boy. The vampire was smiling at me and stroking his cock. The trans-boy was licking the bear’s nipples. Sir smiled proudly down at me and said, “I am so lucky to have you as my slut.”

Her hand began to move inside me and the intensity grew in my chest. I could feel her pulsing, moving so big inside me. It was suddenly too much, and my leg started cramping. She eased out and I was taken down slowly, allowed to stretch. They took me to a nearby futon. The femme’s boy was sitting there, her cock out, waiting. They seated me upon it, facing the room. She was packing a long thick dick and it reached into me, pressing insistently against my cervix as I squirmed on it. Her hands reached around to pinch my nipples and her mouth licked and bit at my neck. I writhed on her dick. It was so long, so relentlessly there. My muscles were exhausted, I was too tired to lift up, just stuck there, impaled on her cock.

Sir pulled out her dick and teased my mouth. I wanted her inside me more than anything.

“Say it for me,” she said.

“Please fuck me, Sir. I am your slut, Sir. Oh god please, Sir. Please fuck my mouth, Sir. I’m your cocksucking slut, Sir. Please Sir. I am your slut, Sir.”

She slapped my cheek with her cock.

“Tell me that again.”

“I am your slut, Sir.”

“Tell me that you are proud to be my slut,” she insisted.

I came, riding the boy’s cock, squirming, moaning. Her hands began lifting my hips, thrusting me onto her, moving me as she growled.

“I am proud to be your slut, Sir. Please fuck your slut, Sir,” I moaned.

Sir grabbed me by the hair and rammed her cock into my mouth. I gagged, and she kept fucking me, smiling down at me, telling me to choke on her cock. Helpless, I was filled, my mouth moved by Sir for her pleasure, the boy moving my cunt to please herself. I flew higher, holes filled, senses overwhelmed, proud to be exactly who I am. Her slut.

Later, my mouth on her boot, belly on the floor, surrounded and stroked by those who helped her fuck me, I tasted my own cum on the leather and was certain that I got exactly what I asked for, precisely what I wanted. I lifted my head and smiled up at her.

“That’s my good slut,” she said gruffly, and stroked my cheek.

I am so lucky to be hers.

Halloween

By

Cecilia Tan

You wouldn’t believe the stuff they do around here in the name of Halloween. Actually it isn’t even Halloween. It’s anytime. You walk into The Strand for their supposed goth night any Wednesday and you’ll find stupid shit like fake cobwebs hanging above the bar and a lame little fog machine trying to make it “spooky.” Spooky is a good name for a dog, not the atmosphere for goths. Or maybe it’s just me. Twenty-one years old and jaded as fuck. Maybe I’m like those super-pious Christians, for whom Christmas is ruined by overcommercialism and hokey dumb crap for kids. Same thing, right? Halloween should be the goth Christmas, except who cares anyway?

So it was that on Halloween night I was at The Strand, sneering at a bunch of the newcomers who were slumming with the Halloween theme. Let’s go hang out with the spooky vampire chicks. Fuck off. Go play pool or watch a ballgame or something. I was all in white to confuse the fuck out of them – the dress looked like a little girl’s first communion dress, not like a wedding gown. Simpler, smaller. I wore a white wig. Some tourist asked me what I was supposed to be and I was going to tell him “a goth, fuckface” but for some reason I decided to take the high road, and told him I was Cathy from
Wuthering Heights
. He replied he’d never seen that show and I wanted to beat him over the head with a book. Any book would do, but how about a nice fat one like a leatherbound edition of
Moby Dick
? Yeah, so I have weird fantasies, get used to it.

Micah was there that night, and Jeana, and Ash. All people I was desperately tired of. I resolved to spend most of the night on the dance floor where idiots wouldn’t talk to me and I wouldn’t have to listen to Ash mooning over some girl he’d never touch. But I ended up at the bar on the far side of the floor instead, nursing a Grand Marnier and pushing some stupid plastic spiders around on the bartop.

The guy next to me was perhaps the only interesting thing about the night, and only because I couldn’t read him. People wear all sorts of stuff to goth clubs. We have the punks in chains, high goths in velvet, fetish crowd in latex and leather, and then on Halloween you can mix in a lot of other randoms in black. This one was in leather, but he wasn’t done up like the fetishwear people usually were. It’s hard to explain. He wasn’t projecting an image with what he wore, unlike everybody else in the place. He was in black leather pants, a black silk shirt, a leather vest, and a leather jacket. He projected an air of ease, like this was what he wore every day. He was drinking water, leaning against the bar next to me, looking utterly relaxed and calm in the hubbub of the club. Relaxed, yes. Like he belonged there? No.

I guess you could say I got a bug up my ass about him. I set about tormenting him. It was pretty crowded, even on the far side of the bar so close to the wall, people were jostling past us, taking the long way around to the dance floor. I grabbed some kid I barely knew, Gary or Gerry or something, on the shoulder as he went by, just so I could bump into mister leather, step on his soft riding boots with my hard combat boots. “Sorry,” I said in his general direction as I got back in place at the bar. I did a bunch of shit like that. I guess he had decided he had had enough when I ordered a water myself. I was perched on my knees on a bar stool then, and reached way over him to grab it from Dessa when she poured it.

My plan was to dump it down his back and play drunk, all oopsy, but as I pulled my hand back toward me, suddenly his hand was on my wrist, his other hand on the cup, pulling me forward off my tipsy stool. I didn’t see where the water went but I ended up stretched out across his chest. One of his arms was under me, and he hitched us both into my bar stool, me flat across his knees. One elbow pressed between my shoulder blades. The other arm swept my little dress up onto my back, and then the flat hard side of his hand came down on my ass.

I was so shocked that for a second I couldn’t think of what to do. Kick my feet and squeal like a little brat? Curse him out? He had hit me four or five more times while I lay there limp before I decided to slip out of his grip and just get out of there.

Decided. But he had that elbow pinning me and one fist wrapped tight in the excess of my dress. Four, five more smacks. Just enough to make it really hurt. Then he let me go and I tumbled into the legs of the people making their way past. Jaded fucks, no one even gave me a second glance. I climbed up his leg ready to give him a piece of my mind, but as I tried to get my feet under me, my fingers grabbing at his thigh, his hand was on mine. He slid it onto his fly, his eyes burning down at mine. I had the “w” of “what the fuck is wrong with you” already bowing my lip and instead I just stared. He moved my hand forward and back on the hard spine of his dick inside his leather pants, never taking his eyes off mine.

And where were my fucking friends to see this gorgeous fucking spectacle? Nowhere. No one was even looking. No one had even noticed. I narrowed my eyes and made my hand into a claw, squeezing him through the pants. His fingers went all the way around my wrist. Fucking hell. I should be kicking him in the shins right now, is what I was thinking, but it’s not every day you meet somebody like that. I mean somebody who is just so outside the normal, so whacked out, different... I could feel his dick throb under my hand and his eyes flared a little when it did. You don’t say no to a gift like that, to the challenge of which of us was crazier or more out there. My other hand came up and started tugging at his belt.

He leaned forward on the stool. His jacket swung open and he let my other hand go. As I got his belt unbuckled, his pants unbuttoned, I could feel the bones of his hips. Under that jacket I hadn’t expected to find him so underfed.

His dick wasn’t so skinny, though. I fitted my lips over the head and smeared my pearlescent lipstick up and down the shaft. Delish. I was down there in the dark, the smell of leather, the taste of it on the veal-soft layer of his skin, salty and sweet at the same time. I held his erection in my hands and swirled the wetness of my mouth all around the crown. The shaft was so fat, I couldn’t get any more of him into my mouth.