Chapter 2

 

 

When I descended into the cellar the next morning I found it cooler than I had expected and was obliged to crank up the heat just a little. In her cubicle I found Kerry awake and spitting fire. “You left me down here alone all night!” she wailed angrily. The blanket, I saw, had slipped to the floor so I guess she must have been a little cold.

I examined her restraints with leisurely ease, testing each part of rope and chain to see that it was tight and that the chastity belt was comfortably in place. I had no doubt, of course, that it would be. The restraints I had had made were of the best and would not give an inch no matter how long I chose to keep her secured in them. “But you slept the whole night through?” To show any spark of sympathy would have given Kerry something to exploit. She was, I knew, very quick at finding any such weakness so my voice was harsh. I could not afford even the slightest hint of opportunity for a snapdragon like her. Are your breasts tingling with the medication?” I reached for the jellied mounds and thought them to be a little firmer. I grasped an erect nipple and tweaked it hard “Ooooow … Stop that!”

“We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“So what? Get these damned things out of me! I want the toilet!” “Were they nice and uncomfortable.”

“I slept most of the night, how the hell should I know? They bloody well are now.”

I smiled knowing that she was not ready to admit to me the pleasure she got from the chastity belt. “They use these things on wayward school girls in Japan.” Releasing the lock I gently unscrewed the front dildo and withdrew it.

“Aaaah! I can’t help it … ooooh!”

Her warm pee flooded over my hand. Now here was something interesting. The dildo I had inserted into her sex was big enough to stretch it nicely but it would not prevent urination so Kerry must have held it all night. I gazed into her eyes trying to guess what motivation prevented her from peeing. I shrugged my shoulders, presuming it to be nothing more than natural instinct not to wet the bed. I said nothing and she hated my silence.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

I thrust a hand beneath her, letting it slide through the cooling pee and began to unscrew the rear dildo. She sighed and cried out in anticipation.

Slowly I withdrew the steel shaft from her rose hole. I watched carefully for any signs of mishap. It came out reluctantly. There were a few traces so I thrust it into her mouth for a cleaning. She gagged and cursed until I threatened her with a slap and a gag to hold it there for a long time. I worked it in and out of her mouth for a minute or two, holding her chin to keep it there, until the steel was brilliantly clean then took it away. Disgust welled up in her eyes. I must erase that emotion from her completely. She had to learn that there is nothing sexually that can be done between two consenting adults that is disgusting. Okay, so my definition of consent may be a little awry. Her rose hole was going to get the very stiffest of attention and very frequently indeed. Anal tightness was something of a predilection with me as she was going to find out.

“Now,” I said, “I am going to take off the chastity belt. Was that so very uncomfortable?”

“You asked me that before. What d’you want me to say? My stomach churned a little as if I … eh … you know … but no...”

“Whether it was or it wasn’t is immaterial. You shall wear it every night for as long as I see fit.” My tone was sharp and brooked no dispute. I helped her off the couch. She fell into my arms.

“My legs are so stiff, you bastard, keeping me locked up like that all night, damn you!” “You’ll grow to love it, you’ll see.”

“Ooooooh … the toilet ...quick!”

An hour later, exercised, bathed and breakfasted on milky cereal laced with more lactating powders, fruit juice and toast with butter and marmalade, Kerry was restored enough to face the rigours of the day. I was keen to stretch her by putting her to every one of my machines in order to find those to which she would readily adjust to on a daily basis. I have learned over the years that to subject a slave to something she would find really abhorrent was entirely unproductive. Besides I was growing rather fond of Kerry and wanted her to enjoy the experiences. Of course, as the saying goes, there is no gain without pain.

That day I decided to try her on the beam. This is a length of timber, about two inches thick, with a rolled edge uppermost supported on four adjustable legs. I urged her to straddle it and took pains to ensure that her pussy lips were spread so that it prised them apart. In this position I tied her with ropes from a broad neck collar to hold her upright and two more from the sides stopped her from keeling over. Her feet were flat on the floor. I bent low to examine her seat upon the bar and urged her with a gentle pressing of her shoulders to put her weight on the seat by bending her knees.

“How’s that?”

“Eeeem ... rather nice actually.”

Each leg of the bar was fitted with a crank wheel with which to raise and lower it. I bent to one of the back ones and turned it to extend the leg several notches. She moved herself slyly but I saw a glistening sheen of her sex mucus on the varnished wood. I went round to the left and raised the other back leg to the same amount. Her ankles lifted so that only her toes touched the floor. That alarmed her slightly. To the front of the machine I bent and raised the left leg so that the horse was now canted. The toes of her left foot were clear of the floor. Her weight was settling on the beam very nicely. When the final leg was raised and her whole weight was pressing down on her pussy lips she cried out and called me a bastard. I had repeatedly warned her about that so now, tired of her objections, I fetched the tawse and gave her several cracks across her large, beautiful rump. She howled in a most satisfactory way so I continued and demanded that she count the strokes. For a long time there was silence in the room save for the slaps of the tawse applied with increasing force to create a pattern of dark, blood-suffused stripes on her delightfully wobbling ass and her hoarse counting of the strokes. She knew better than to cry out. At fifty I relented and stopped.

“I’m sorry ... sorry … sorry!” she cried.

I dropped the tawse not because I was tired or because I had given her enough but because I had a sudden urge to add another little pain intensifier to her beautiful body. I was gone but a minute yet Kerry Roget managed to follow me all the way with a string of adjectives that would make, as they say, a Marine blush. She was not sorry at all but she very soon would be. Her unseemly behaviour made me all the more determined to inflict upon her everything that was necessary to bring her to order. Her pain threshold, I had already discovered, was high, but now I was going to play one pain off against another to open up a whole new dimension.

Nipple clamps, like the bar itself had the added piquancy that after a longish spell enduring the pain of compression the pain of decompression was almost as great. The clamps I favour are fitted with screw threads so that tightening and releasing can be done with minute adjustments over a nice long time. Not like those crude spring-loaded things that are about as subtle as Torquemada’s hammers. Carefully I screwed the first clamp to her left nipple, teasing the nub to erection then winding the screw until the tiny padded faces had closed over it and were squeezing with little more pressure than a pair of demanding lips. I went round to the other side and did the same with that nipple. It is an interesting aside to note that a woman’s breasts are seldom of the same size. Kerry’s left breast was slightly larger than her right one. Reaching across her and smiling into her happy face I began to tighten both clamps together. She looked down at my working hands and covered them with her own. It was a gentle touch of love. How fickle are women! I turned the screws slowly, watching each nipple as it was squeezed. Kerry’s breathed became heavier. Her chest rose and fell and her skin flushed a glowing red. “Aaaah!” she cried out and went entirely rigid. Her body radiated an intense heat. She cried out again. Her breathing became ragged and quick. She clutched my hands tightly and sighed and squealed. The natural scent of her invaded the small room as she came with an echoing cry. She was thrown against the supporting ropes in violent paroxysms. Her arms dropped to her sides and her head fell forward. The climax had exhausted her.

When she was calmed down and recovered I continued to screw the nipple clamps closed. I tightened them more quickly now. The little pads closed on her nipples until there was less than a couple of millimetres of compressed flesh between them. That must be painful I was sure but apart from wincing once or twice as the clamps tightened Kerry made no sound except for shortened heavy breathing. She behaved almost as if as if she didn’t notice. That contented half smile played on her lips. I was noticing now, in her many small mannerisms, that Kerry was beginning to enjoy a newfound and meaningful awareness of the power and sensitivity of her body.

I kissed her lovingly on the mouth, forcing her lips apart so that our tongues intertwined wetly. It was an intimacy I seldom accorded a client. Her lips moved excitedly, crushing against mine with the eagerness of the hungry. Again I wondered why such a sexy woman had deprived herself for so long. She brought her hands up and held my face as she kissed and pecked at it enthusiastically.

“I love you … I love you!” She spoke between kisses and her scented breath was hot on my face. I returned the passionate kisses with interest but only to make her mouth really wet. With one hand I unzipped my trousers and pulled out my raging cock. I guided one of her hands to it. She clasped it and began to stroke up and down tightening and loosening the grip as it slid from glans to base moving quicker and quicker as my excitement grew. I was not usually given to wanking off even at the hand of a woman but something in the sheer power of her being was an aphrodisiac that could not be denied. She tossed me off. Her breathing was loud as I kissed her face pecking at her soft skin in my turn. My hands rifled through her hair and as my cum boiled up in my balls I gripped a handful of it and forced her head back so that I could kiss her throat and neck, one of the woman’s most erogenous zones. She gasped into my nuzzling; breathed into my quickened breathing and in the moment drew from my rampant cock the elixir of life.

“Oooooh fuck it, that’s it … oh!”

I came with a loud cry and spattered her hand, her arm and her thigh with my copious offering.

Kerry sighed as she watched the cum arc on to her body. She made a disappointed pout of her lips. “I don’t like wasting the beautiful stuff,” she said softly. “It should be inside me somewhere.”

I felt very like Pygmalion who brought his beautiful, cold, stone statue of Galatea to life. I had in Kerry converted a stone cold body into a beautiful woman of warm flesh and blood. It was gratifying but I had to be careful that she didn’t fall for me too hard. Unlike Pygmalion I didn’t want her for myself, however desirable her body is and her mind would become, remembering that sooner rather than later, I was obliged to send her back to her husband and her children. God, though, she was heart-rendingly beautiful.

“Somewhere?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

She smiled again, coquettishly. “Yes.” She made a movement of her body within the tight restraints of the ropes and, so far as the bar would permit, left me in no doubt as to her wishes. I knew the movement must have crushed her pussy on to the bar because I saw a shadow of pain cross her face. She didn’t cry out and soon settled down once more apparently content to let her pussy be compressed on the hard timber.

“All in good time, my little love bird.”

“Are you going to leave me like this all day?” “I had rather thought so.”

“With my hands loose so that I can undo these ropes?”

I nodded. “If you unscrew those clamps you will see how painful the returning blood flow is.”

Kerry cupped her breasts looking down at the tightly squeezed nipples. She contemplated them for some time. I didn’t know what was going through her mind but the vision she presented astride the bar was truly magnificent. She rode it like a true champion. I wondered if she was seriously thinking about releasing herself from the bar but came to the conclusion, judging by the look of happiness on her face, that she was content to stay put for as long as I wished. Just to make sure I decided to cuff her ankles and from those padded rings take a few turns of rope through ring bolts set into the floor, tightening them enough to increase the pressure on her pussy a little bit more. The pain of that compression would increase gradually as the day wore on.

“Ooooh ... you didn’t have to do that!” “True.”

Kerry adapted very well over the next fortnight. After daily rides on the bar, often for more than four hours at a time and her harnessing into the chastity belt with its two penetrating dildos every night she became wonderfully acquiescent. The harsh diet I had imposed was effective in reducing her small spare tyre so that her waist was now beautifully trim. The daily milk inducing drugs had increased her breast size by two brassiere cups and milk was beginning to flow. When I suckled on them I received the rich sweet nectar in rewarding trickles.

The remainder of each day was devoted to housework. Under no circumstances was I going to allow her to wear clothes but I demanded that she wear splendidly high heels so that she walked with a seductive wiggle that I never tired of watching. I loved the way her bottom cheeks rolled.

A tight fitting plug I had inserted into her rose hole was removable only when she needed the loo. At all other times, I warned her, whenever I came into the room she was to bend down and show me, by prising her cheeks apart, that it was well in place. I bent her over so that I could put the finishing touches to the pose I wanted her to adopt every time. Her gloriously large bum with smooth skin, blemished only by marks of the tawse, was a wonder to behold. It always threw me into heated turmoil and to hard erection. I was so eager to fuck her ass that the torment of making her wait for it was playing more havoc with my own emotions than I believe it was with Kerry’s.

Then one day I could no longer hold back and decided, right there and then, that I was going to enjoy what I knew would be the most astounding of pleasures for both of us. It was after I had cause to give her a really sound beating for spilling water on the floor. I had laid it on with a will. Her beautiful bottom was raised in perfect posture as I bent her over the arm of a settee. So large and rounded I stroked it, kissed it and admired it with all my nerves tingling. Perfection itself was that reddened and well heated ass yet so cool to the touch yet so alive, so entrancingly active that it radiated a wanton heat. My cock had hardened to iron rigidity and was ready to penetrate that virgin hole. My balls were tight with the massive load I was going to inject into her hot receptive bowels. But first I had to give her the punishment I knew she craved. It had taken me a long time to train her to count the strokes of the tawse. In the midst of counting I would lay on a particularly hard stroke that caused her to cry out, a sin in itself justifying another three strokes. Losing count meant I had to start all over again so that say twelve strokes to her left cheek, right cheek or both together extended often to thirty or more. I felt sure that on occasions she deliberately miscounted to extend the pleasure she got from the chastisement.

The lashings always brightened her bum to a hot incarnadine hue criss-crossed with marked stripes of darker shades that radiated an intense heat. She wriggled so sweetly under the tawse that my desire for her reached a climactic peak of excitement I never before remembered with any of my clients. Well, now the moment was come. I threw down the tawse impatiently neglecting to let her kiss it or even to thank me for the chastisement.

“Don’t move in inch, Kerry,” I warned in a haggard voice. “The time has come, little Miss Prim, for the ultimate joy.” So rampant was I that, done with words, I fell to my knees between her legs and removed the plug against a natural suction and straightway plunged my face between her hot roseate cheeks. My tongue was long and stiff in its penetrating. It slipped through the tight rubbery ring and searched within savouring the delicious heat. Kerry wriggled anew at the violation.

“Ooooh!” Small mewlings escaped her lips as I delved within. She pushed herself against my face. It was a delicious suffocation which made me all the more eager. I was lubricating the way with plentiful saliva and fingering the tight orifice as I pushed in with my stiffened tongue. Soon she was ready for me to enter what I knew was a virgin passage. Every nerve tingling, taught, resonating with the overtures of love that forced her to press her bottom back into my face. My hand slid between her legs and felt the hot, wet folds of her pussy and I knew that she had reached the pinnacle of desire. Her hand encountered mine and thrust it aside. Her fingers worked into her pussy with violence, drawing forth squiggy sounds.

“Fuck me ... fuck my arse, you bastard ... fuck me, fuck me pleeeeasse!”

I got to my feet, feeling breathless and weak with need of her. My stiff crest was demanding in its hardness, the purple head a rounded velvet crown on a pillar of hard, veined flesh that could no longer be denied. I placed my cock at the portal of my desire and pressed against her rose hole. Its resistance was magical. It inflamed my desires to fever pitch. I pushed harder and was rewarded with my crest entering its tight new home. The head of my cock was engulfed in the delicious warm hole.

“Push harder, you bastard, split me open, fill me up ... now!”

I pushed more and none too gently and in a single smooth movement slid right in so that her cheeks were pressed gratefully into my groin.

The frequent and prolonged dildo penetrations had opened her to my pleasure. The moment was of such magnificence that I had to concentrate one at a time on the great number of sensations that were consuming me. Those warmed, sweetly pink cheeks pressed against me were the visible manifestation of my joy, a kind of salute to the intense feeling of my cock being held a willing prisoner in Kerry’s secondary love tunnel. From my head to my toes every nerve was strung tight. My whole body was centred on my embedded cock. It was as if I could give my whole rigid self to this delicious woman and die willingly in the embrace. I held still for a long time savouring the ardent pleasures but soon Kerry began to move beneath me undulating her heated body to create the necessary friction of the lovemaking she craved.

Her face was turned sideways on the cushions of the settee so that I could see her suffused cheeks and her working tongue licking her parted lips. It was a portrait of unbridled lust. Loud incomprehensible mewlings sounded deep in her throat. Her eyes were closed. Her hands clutched at the cushions spasmodically and in time with my slow movements in and out of her tightly gripping hole.

We moved gently together, each drawing from the other every small tingling sensation combined to create the wonderful excitement of bodily penetration. I knew that postponement of this incredible moment would bring its own reward but never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined it would be so stunningly, so consumingly exciting nor so truly an act of love. I plunged in and out of her rose hole, watching the wonderful clutching of her ring as it distended around my huge charger. Her internal heat was an all-consuming furnace into which I had to pour my soothing elixir. I belaboured her arse enthusiastically enjoying the slap of her rear against me at every vigorous thrust.

She wobbled fleshily. I grabbed her hips and plunged in again and again until, goaded beyond endurance. With a great howl, as if I was baying to the moonlit night, I shot my balm into her very bowels. She drew from me a magnificent out-pouring that lathered her insides so smoothly and sweetly that I, fallen over her body, continued to slide in and out emptying myself with slippery ease. We remained conjoined in that joyful tableau for a long, long time until my spent charger softened. Kerry demanded that I stay within her. I could feel her love tube pulsating around my semi-flaccid cock with such amazing insistence that he was already rising to the challenge of a rematch. It took massive will power to withdraw from that tight sheath but there was work to be done. Slowly, reluctantly, I uncorked from her with a tiny plopping sound and watched her rose hole slowly clench. That delicious tight aperture was now available for my pleasure at any time. Too much of a good thing all at once could dull the senses. I pulled my eyes away from the wonderful sight.

Restored to equanimity, I raised her to her feet. She was shaking in the aftermath of the new and all demanding route to paradise. I cuddled her for some minutes, willing her to understand the incredible tie between a man and a woman, knowing the ultimate joy of the physical leading to the bondage of the heart; knowing the real meaning of a woman’s being at one with her partner. She told me she loved me. I needed her to understand the difference between love and lust. It was the huge challenge of my work to let her explore and understand those feelings without causing her any more than transient unhappiness when the time came for me to return her to her husband. It is upon him she had to bestow all the love I am teaching her. It has been, on occasions, particularly with Jenny whom it took several months to correct, something of a challenge for me to resist emotional ties. Hitherto, despite this, I had managed to remain dispassionate and business-like but Kerry was doing things to me against which I had to desperately harden my heart.

“Work!”

I fitted a stiff leather, padded, collar and locked it around her neck. It was designed to keep her head up was fitted with a fine link chain that divided into two parts just above the breasts one leading loosely to each of the nipple clamps which she now wanted to wear constantly. Despite my warning her that the releasing of the clamps would let the blood flow back into those delicious nubs and that it would be painful, she grew to like it as much as the pain of their being squeezed so tightly. Thus, without undue stress to Kerry I was able to remove the clamps when I needed to suckle from those beautiful, pained nipples and, when I had taken my fill of her delicious milk, re-apply the clamps as necessary. There was as much pleasure in releasing them as there was in re-fitting them. Kerry’s pain threshold was astonishingly high.

Her chores included the making of my bed, which I never allowed her to share, that being an intimacy too far. It was a luxurious couch of kingly proportions in which she must have harboured desires to sleep but, much as we would both have liked it, I had to preserve the slave/master relationship. I did make the concession allowing her to sit on the bed while I stood before her offering my cock to her willing mouth.

She had to understand that she was to give of herself whenever her husband demanded it but I was beginning to find her new submissiveness a bore. I needed the challenge of subduing a recalcitrant and rebellious woman. That is not to say that I was satisfied with her progress, no! She had much to learn and chores around the house were vital lessons on her route to being an acquiescent and devoted wife.

I put upon her the duties of cleaning all the machinery I used upon her and was astonishing at just how much care she lavished on the chastity belt and on the bar and subsequently on the saltire and the milking machine. She handled them with dedicated reverence and all were polished to perfection. I imposed upon her all washing up duties and I also expected her to rake out the fires, black lead the fire baskets and fetch in coal and logs. In all these chores I allowed her wear gloves to preserve the softness of those manipulating hands. She always managed to get herself deliciously dirty, obliging me to give her a dozen counted strokes with the tawse and then take her to the bathroom for a thorough ablution, missing nothing in lathering her smooth skin with great quantities of scented soap. I allowed her no privacy whatsoever. Perhaps the most entertaining exercise was the beating of the carpets. I offered her no modern conveniences and for the carpets there was no exception. At first she hated the job with a passion and showed me the fiery side of her temperament, not yet fully restrained, with verbal abuse and stubborn refusal. I persuaded her with the threat of a whipping with stinging nettles. She glared at me but at last gave in.

I demanded that every mat and rug, (there were no fitted carpets in my house), had to be taken outside and thrown over a line where she was obliged to beat them with one of those old fashioned cane contraptions like an open work bat. I loved to watch the movements of her naked body during this exertion.

Her breasts would jiggle as if with a life of their own. The cooler the weather the harder she worked to keep herself warm. It was a magnificent pantomime. Svelte, amenable and acquiescent, she did all she could to please me and bent to her daily punishment willingly enough. She would bring me the tawse when she felt she needed chastisement and would pout sulkily when I refused.

One day, it had been particularly cold when I demanded that she beat the carpets and rebelled against my cruelty so again I brought her to heel with the suggestion that she might be thoroughly warmed up by a whipping with that bundle of stinging nettles.

“Don’t you love me anymore?” She whined in a small voice. “No!”

I, too, spent much of my time in the house naked and I know that she loved to try and tease me into erection whenever she had the chance. Daily punishment and a suckling of those milk-laden breasts usually did it for me but I must needs exercise rigid self-control if, dear reader you will accept the pun. Excessive indulgence, however desirable, would be my undoing. I got frighteningly close to that edge when I first put Kerry to the milking machine.

She was confined on her hands and knees within the apparatus and it restricted her movements as much as does an iron maiden. I had not expected those put to it to go willingly. Kerry’s breasts with swollen with milk and must have been painful. At least that was my interpretation of her willingness to be put to the merciless machine. I fitted the large clear plastic cups to her breasts clipping them together over her back like a brassiere. Inside at the top of each of the cups was a rubber suction cap designed like a pair of lips that could be screw-adjusted to close over the nipple. A tube led from each cup to a reservoir tank. Kerry was curious about the whole thing and rather enjoyed the fitting of the cups. I think she was quite looking forward to being milked because, as she admitted, her bulging breasts, magnificent orbs both, were full and she was eager to feel the machine pumping.

She had come a long way from the worry about her breasts becoming sagging dugs in later life. Perhaps that was because she had worn no kind of support for them since she had been put in my charge and the demand in the supporting ligaments and muscles had tightened them nicely. When I started the pump, slowly at first, the rubber lips contracted tightly over her nipples and began the pulsating sucking designed to draw out the milk. Kerry’s head was bowed as she watched intently the first product of her breasts flow down the tubes. I heard her sigh. It was an evocation of the huge pleasure she was getting from her body performing the tasks it was designed for. In that sigh too, I think I detected sadness. I raised her head by putting fingers beneath her chin and then kissed her fully on the lips. As I did so I turned the knob that increased the power. The rubber lips sucked harder. Kerry mewled within the kiss. Her lips and tongue worked on mine so ardently that in a very few moments I was raised to full manly rigidity. Because I was kneeling in front of her it was no difficult task to offer my cock to her willing mouth. Held in my hand I directed it between her delicious full lips. They closed over the head and she swirled her tongue over it enthusiastically. The moist velvety touch of it was miraculous. It swept over the head wetly before she pointed it and tried to enter the little hole. She played on it for some time drawing out the clear droplets of my pre-cum. Because she was imprisoned in the milking machine I was able to control the extent of this exquisite pleasure in her succulent hot mouth. Easing back I held just the head of my burgeoning cock at her questing lips or, when the desire took me, I plunged forward so that my whole weapon was within that warm and eager cavern. I always switched off the machine just as I was coming in her mouth. I could feel now my hot spunk rising up the length.

I cried out with the joy of it and revelled yet again in the ecstasy of inundating her beautiful mouth. She mewled round my shaft as I drove into the back of her throat. Her lips clamped round the vein-swollen pole and I exploded with a cry filling her mouth. I switched off the machine and let her draw from me every last drop of my nectar. Only when we had both calmed down did I release the cups and let them drop away from her hot, engorged tits. I reached for them and massaged them until my flaccid cock dropped from her mouth. Then I swung myself under her to lather those sore nipples with my tongue and draw out, with avid suction, the milk that remained in her. There were times when I just could not help myself. Regrettably the affinity I seemed to have with this beautiful and now, submissive, woman meant that, in spite of myself, I was beginning to fall in love. Never before in my years of counselling had I been held so tightly in love- bondage by a woman. I disliked the uncharted waters into which I was being led. Hitherto I had been able to manage the situation and dismiss the tutored and corrected woman with nothing more than a natural pang but now things were becoming very difficult. Too many times now I had disobeyed one my own essential golden rules and permitted myself a kiss on the lips of this tantalizing woman.

The climax occurred when Kerry came running in from outside where she had been beating a carpet. She had the thing rolled up in her arms but had got herself sodden and chilled by a sudden cloud burst. She dropped the carpet on to the floor where it rolled itself out flat and she stood before me shivering, silent but close to tears. Her hair hung in dripping rat tails. She made such a picture of wanton, abandoned lust, a forlorn waif unhappily stranded, breasts heaving, eyes gleaming with sullen contempt that my heart softened. After a moment of contemplation of her full lips stretched over pearly teeth in a joyless smile, I was moved to understand an attractive contradiction in her personality. It was something so deep in her psyche that I could never erase, nor yet indeed, even wanted to. At last she was revealing to me the full magnificence of her character and I knew that I had been absolutely correct in judgement of her and struck gold with the methods I had used to correct her. The trouble was that I had been too successful and she evidently loved me for it. Colour had risen in her face. Her smooth skin, gleaming with the droplets of rain and with its own translucence begged for the caress my hands. The mat of her blonde pubis held little glinting diamonds of moisture. She saw my glance towards it at swivelled her pelvis in mute offering. There was mischief aglow in her eyes as she spread her legs and with a finger stroked the concealed lips. Her other hand she carried over her clamped nipples tracing the contours of her full breasts and drew a finger into her mouth. She swung her head sideways playing the perfect coquette. Her eyes never left me. She spun round to show me her bottom and with the hand that had lately traced her pussy lips now stroked the great orbs of her arse as she bent slightly to offer me that sweet plugged channel for which she now had a great letch.

Needless to say in all this silent seduction my rampant cock had risen to gigantic proportions so rigid that it hurt. The great purple head glowed and the heavily veined pillar throbbed with a life of its own. My balls hanging heavily in their sack ached with the weight of cum boiling and demanding to be released. At that moment I was lost.

I took the two steps necessary to close with Kerry and bent my head to kiss her. Why did I kiss her so often? It is an intimacy too far, an intimacy so personal, more personal than mere fucking, that it had the power to cement a relationship absolutely and irrevocably. This I was not supposed to be doing but I could not help myself. That I was making a rod for my own back I ignored at great risk to my personal undoing. I took each of her fabulous, hard breasts into my hands, my thumbs grazing over the nipple clamps and then in a moment of wild abandon quickly unscrewed them both and threw them away. I wanted Kerry unsullied, unblemished, free to be her new and exciting self. I wanted her to give herself to me without restraint.

“Oooooh!” She squealed at the pain of release and of blood returning to her nipples and pulled my head down so that my mouth was close to the left one. Her message was clear. I took the poor little tortured nub into my mouth and laved it gently, caressing away the pain with my wet tongue. Milk flowed from it. I let it fill my mouth and swallowed avidly the sweet nectar. My hands were busy with her other nipple from which milk was flowing freely. I spread the warm flow over the skin of her breast, revelling in the slickness under my working fingers.

We two of us slowly sank to the floor, entwined in each other’s arms. My hands reluctantly fell away from her glorious tits as she pressed on my shoulders to lay me flat on my back. She looked down upon me from a kneeling position and took her breasts, one in each hand, manipulating the nipples so that more milk flowed. She let it fall upon my body until there was a small lake in my concave belly. She soaked her hands in it then took them to my burgeoning charger and rubbed gently up and down its length. Everything around us dissolved. We two were alone on the planet or, perhaps we were the planet, floating in space absorbed in our own orbit. I watched my proud cock as Kerry stroked it slowly up and down drawing out sensations which even I, as a counsellor, barely knew were there for the taking. Suddenly my view was gone as Kerry swept her body over me and lowered her red-hot pussy on to my mouth. Her juices were flowing and soon they deluged my face, my tongue, my whole mouth so that I had to swallow quickly to avoid drowning. I gulped down the hot viscous fluids, savouring the sweetness and marvelling at the cascade. It was almost as if she was peeing into my mouth and in that moment of absolute abandonment I wouldn’t care if she was. I would have taken it down just as thirstily as I was now drinking her very nectar. What was I doing? Hell’s bells! The bloody woman was taking charge!

I swung over then, toppling her from that dominant position on my face and threw her on to her back where I lay within the warm embrace of her thighs. My charger was at the very portals, touching the base of her upstanding clit. I had a sensation of drowning in the scented aroma of our conjoined lust. My body weight pressed my cock into her and she took me in. It was as if her cuntal lips were pulling at my cock and sucking it into her in slow grasping clutches drawing me fully into her hot and very wet tunnel until the very neck of her womb was kissing the head of my buried charger. Kerry wrapped her legs over my back and held me tight within her. Her warm body bucked beneath me in a way that roused my curiosity and I saw that she was crying. That was not in the script.

I rose on to my hands and knees above her and she lifted her pelvis to keep me trapped inside her. I thrust violently again and again and she matched me. I withdrew almost pulling out then sliding back into her with magical ease boring into her gripping channel. Drops of milk were scattering from her burgeoning, wobbling breasts and our bodies slid against each other with the mingling of perfumed sweat.

“Aaaah! I’m coming … Aaaaah!”

Kerry, too, cried out. Our passionate voices conmingled as did our foaming wetness. My body was building to a massive crescendo that seemed to want to release the whole of my interior through my pulsating cock into Kerry’s womb. It was the sudden hot flow of her ejaculation burning my cock as it poured over it that did for me. We cried out together as with a final urgent thrust, embedding my cock to the hilt, I shot my boiling magma into her eager womb. I filled her so fully that my semen and her sweet juices made gentle music as they erupted from where we were joined. It flowed into her pubis, coating me and soaking the carpet beneath us. Breath rasped in our throats as I continued to erupt within her. I clasped her hot slippery breasts and suckled on flowing nipples so that warm milk filled my mouth as my cock continued to fill her womb. At last I fell heavily upon her and lay still save for our heavy panting. For how long we lay silent, unmoving, contented, I do not know but with Kerry’s wanton hand upon my stiffening cock I was soon hard and I was drawn, by whatever subtlety, to the bulb of her bottom and the darker mouth of her muscular sphincter. I drew Kerry to her knees and thrust her shoulders down. Soaked in my own ejaculate, her fragrant juices and her milk, my iron hard pestle was ready at the portals of her rear. Out came the plug with a gentle plop and in went the head of my charger. The muscle gave with gentle elasticity and I slid into her anus with a smooth movement that had the split globe of her arse in my lap and my pubis pressed firmly into the entrance to her passage. The heat of her was splendid. I held still tight to savour the joy of it.

“Bloody hell, you bastard! Don’t move an inch! Stay just like that!” Kerry had turned her head to take a sidelong glance at me and was smiling as she said it. She began to work her interior muscles. I could feel them rippling along the length of my cock and squeezing over the head. She seemed at once to be drawing me into her and yet trying to push me out. I did as I was told and held firm grasping her hips to prevent uncorking. She was massaging my cock with her muscular contractions pulling me ever tighter into her insatiable hole. I don’t think I could have withdrawn from her even if I had wanted to so powerful and downright delicious was the suction holding me prisoner in that hot pulsating tube. I clung to her hips, denying myself the urge to feel the milk-laden weight of her hanging breasts. To lean forward then over her concave back would be to risk uncorking. Instead I leaned back to let her suck in every last millimetre of my stallion length. I wanted my balls pressed tight into her backside, to let their weight massage the outer lips of her cum drenched pussy. She began to writhe on my impaling stalk working her bum in small circles as the juices began to gather and her nerve ends tingle with the imminent explosion.

Her movements became more energetic. She rolled her shoulders from side to side then raised herself onto her hands stretching her arms straight. Her head lolled down. Mewling explosions and gasps escaped her lips on heavy breaths as she bucked and writhed beneath me taking me to heights of pleasure, to pinnacles of joy that even in my widest experience, were far greater and more intense than anything I can ever remember. Her sphincter seemed to be grasping my rigid cock so tightly that my cum could not rise along its length. It was as if Kerry was controlling even that. I was past caring. She could do what she liked and I felt not the slightest chagrin at her taking charge. My load was boiling in my scrotum. I could feel the pressure of it flowing into my cock; coursing along the length of it in a hot stream.

“I’m co….m…ing!” I shouted and pulled her even harder into my lap.

“Come, you bastard ... come inside me … fill me … up ... with your ... lovely juice. Empty your balls you sod … now!”

And I came with a mighty yell. Great bursts of spunk tore from me right into her very bowels. Her anal muscles sucked on me massaging every last drop from my engorged cock. Kerry flung back her head and yelled like a demented coyote as she poured down her own explosive tribute to our amazing love-making.

Burst after burst of spunk raced along my cock and jetted into her as I worked in involuntary spasms to give her every last drop.

At last my prick had given up all it was going to and began ever so slightly to soften. Kerry pulled even harder on my imprisoned flesh and dropped prone to the carpet bringing me, the spent warrior, with her. I lay heavily upon her feeling her muscles tirelessly working on my length. Sweet mother! Did she want it all again?

I rolled off her, pulling out with a slight pop my vanquished and exhausted cock. I could do nothing else.