English Girl Goes to Brighton (Part 2)

Bent over the chair, Hayley waited for him, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s. She lifted up on her toes, arched her back and pushed her ass out, hoping to please him as he sat on the couch, directly behind her. She hoped he was enjoying the view. The plug was still there, big and rude inside her—could he see the bright blue tip? Her ass wanted his attention, all of her did, even while it scared her. Being bent over the chair was more comfortable than she’d expected. Would she still think that in a few hours? How long would it take him to come three times? The thought of him coming in her that many times thrilled her. She wanted him to want her that badly, that much, to turn him on to that extent, so that he couldn’t stop fucking her. Now that was slutty, wasn’t it? She wondered when the last time he came three times in one day.Of course, the biggest question in her mind, the question that was throbbing through her clit–Would he let her come??? He was still sitting on the couch, and she was too scared to peek over her shoulder, to see the look on his face. Was he planning the wickedness that would follow? How long had he been planning it? Weeks? Or had he seen the chair yesterday and that started it?Perhaps three minutes later—a very long three minutes—he stood up and walked to her. “You are so beautiful, especially like this.” He stood next to her, still fully dressed, her looking down at the leg of his jeans and his white socks. Somehow that made it more dominating, her naked and him clothed, showed who was in control and who was vulnerable. Who was owned.She was a mess of emotions: nervous, scared, excited, wet, wanting to please him so much, wondering how far he’d push her. That was the danger of being owned by someone both creative and wicked. A bit of a cruel streak, he liked to say. However, she also knew he cared, cared about her a great deal, and he always left her feeling taken care of, of being understood and accepted for who she was. How much she cared about him, now that was the real danger, one she was constantly trying to ignore.He kneeled down and unfolded his left hand, showing her the black blindfold there. Gently, he moved her hair out of the way, told her to hold it, and wrapped the blindfold around her eyes. It was thick and soft, and blocked out the light completely. Her world went dark. Her heart beat hard, like her chest was too small for all the damn emotions swirling and surging through her.He said, “They say losing one sense makes the others more sensitive. We shall see…” She nodded. She already felt hyper-sensitive, her nervous system on full alert, every nerve pulsing, a light sheen of sweat covering her skin. The sound of his footsteps moved away from her, getting quieter and quieter, then she couldn’t hear anything above the pounding of her heart. A minute or two passed. The tension kept building, one wicked layer on top of another, her breath far too loud. Finally, she heard him coming back.He ran a finger in a circle on her right ass cheek. “Are you sure, my sweet slut? Do you still want me to have my way with you? Play with you all day with you tied and helpless?”“Yes, Sir.” It felt like she’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted that; her whole body ached for it.“Do you want to be my little fuck toy? To be used and taken in every hole? For me to do as I please, to do whatever I please?”God that turned her on. How can just his words make me so fucking wet? “Yes, Sir, I do.”“Say it. Tell me what you want.”She swallowed, thinking I could just stand up, ask him to take me in the bedroom, fuck like a normal couple might. That wasn’t what she wanted. Why did she crave his wickedness? “Please, Sir, please use me and take me.”His finger disappeared from her cheek. “Oh, you can do better than that. You’re a slut, remember? Try again.” His hand smacked her bottom, not hard, but it surprised her.She swallowed, composed herself. “Please, Sir, please make me yours. Please come in all of my holes. Please use me. I am yours, your slut, for your pleasure, for your use. Use me, Sir, I beg you. Make me your fuck toy.” She was proud of that, even smiled a little.“Mmmmm, good girl. I love when you give yourself to me, how you do it so completely.”His fingers touched her left wrist, then wrapped something soft and wide around it. Then she felt the little movements of his fingers and knew he was tying her to the chair. He moved to her right wrist. Subtly, she tried to move her left, and there was perhaps an inch of play, but no more. It felt very solid. A moment later her right arm was bound in the same way. She was starting to appreciate what giving herself to him really meant, the helplessness starting to sink in. His hands touched her left ankle, ever so gently, then moved it outside the leg of the chair, so her legs were even wider, making her even more exposed, more vulnerable. Another band wrapped around her ankle, and that leg wasn’t going anywhere. Far too quickly, the right ankle was bound, too. She was helpless. At his mercy.He’d tied her once before, to the bed, and also put her in handcuffs a time or two, but this was something different. Bent over, ass high, everything open to him. She was helpless, vulnerable, almanbahis şikayet all control gone, and she’d given it away, given herself to him. Why did it turn her on so much?His hands caressed her foot, one running across the bottom, the other touching the tops of her toes, then the top of her foot. His touch moved so slow, and was so light, it barely tickled. His hands moved up her leg, his fingertips moving back and forth, touching every inch of her skin. He reached her ass, avoiding the crease of her cheeks, but touching the side and front of her hip, around the chair. One hand trickled across her tummy, as the other ran up and down her back. “Mmm, I so love the feel of your skin, so perfect, so warm, so young.” He kissed her back, right in the middle, then his lips planted little kisses up her spine. His hand ran up her chest, avoiding her nipple, but did circle around it before running down her arm. His other hand in her hair, he gently pulled her head up and he kissed her, their tongues teasing each other. He kissed each cheek, then gave her another good kiss. His mouth disappeared, replaced by his fingers, caressing her face below the blindfold, letting her suck on one or two. His hands moved on, to explore the other side of her body, taking his time, touching every centimeter.When he’d made it down to her other foot, his kissed the outside of her thigh as he ran his fingers back up the inside of her leg. Ever so slowly, they moved up her thigh, getting closer and closer. A finger circled her snatch, then did it again, just outside the edge of her lips. She knew he was looking right at her pussy, could see how wet she was, could see her asshole, too. It felt like she was on display for him, that it was even more revealing than the first time she’d played with herself as he watched, her legs spread obscenely wide. His fingers pulled her pussy lips apart, and then a fingertip, very lightly, ran up the outer edge of one lip, then down the other. Another pass, this time just inside her lips. Her knees bucked—it was so sensitive. And she couldn’t close her legs, didn’t dare say a word. He continued running his fingertip up and down her slit, teasing it, spreading her lips, exploring. His finger teased the oh-so-delicate skin between her snatch and her asshole, causing her legs to shake.That same wicked finger circled her asshole, leaving a wet trail of her pussy juice in its wake. It flickered over her delicate hole, then slid back down and continued to explore the folds of her pussy. It was sweet, intimate torture. He never touched her clit, the bastard, not once. It would only take twenty or thirty seconds, she thought, frustrated and desperate, though those words did nothing to convey how badly she needed to be touched, needed to come, needed relief of some sort. New words needed to be invented to define her need and her towering frustration. He wouldn’t come three times in her and not let her come, would he? No one is that mean, she hoped. Please, dear God, don’t let him be that cruel. And yet part of her wanted that, knew it would show how completely she was owned. He decided when she came, no one else, and especially not her.Then his soft and wicked fingertip was gone. He walked in front of her, put his finger to her lips, and she licked and sucked like the good little slut she was, tasting her own frustration.His voice calm, like he was telling her the weather outside, he said, “I think we’ll start with a spanking. I want your owned bottom good and red, some bruises too. You know when your ass is good and red, it makes me so hard. I’ll probably have to redden it up a few times later, and I can’t wait to watch you cook for me in your little apron and a red, red butt.” He moved behind her, rubbed her ass with both hands, then spread her cheeks, exposing her asshole. “And I know how much my slut likes her ass good and sore. Likes the reminder of being owned every time she sits down.”“Yes, Sir, I do.” Now at least things were going somewhat in the direction she’d imagined. Somehow that felt safer.He pressed his full hand against her perfectly shaven pussy, completely covering it. “So nice and smooth. And wet. All things that would be true of a slut. Are you a slut?”“Yes, Sir. Your slut. Your wet slut.”“Really? I think a slut would like a spanking. What do you think?”She did take a moment to think about it. “No, Sir.”“Huh?” He wasn’t expecting that, which made her smile.“A true slut, and owned slut, would want whatever pleased you, Sir.”“And what do you think would please me?”“Hmm, probably a very red bottom. Please spank me, Sir, if it pleases you.”“You always find new ways to please me. Good girl.” His hands rubbed her ass, squeezed it. “Count for me. Let me know each dozen.” She strained up on her toes, trying to get her ass higher, arching her back.The first one cracked into her ass, the left cheek. Though it was only his hand, it stung. His hands were so hard, so strong. He didn’t start light, no, it was heavy, solid spanks, all over her ass.“One dozen, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”“Is my slut enjoying her spanking?”“I enjoy pleasing you, Sir. Anything that pleases….”“No, baby. Do you like it when I spank you?”“Yes, Sir, when it doesn’t hurt almanbahis canlı casino too much.”“Good girl for being honest.” The spanking resumed, slow and steady, heating up her ass.“Two dozen, Sir.”“Are you sure? I think that’s only 21 or 22.”“Sir, I am a certified accountant.” That made him laugh, but the spanks didn’t get lighter.“I seem to recall you have made a mistake or two.” Spank, spank, spank.It was odd that without that mistake, without the infamous letter, this wouldn’t be happening, that her life would be the same as it always had been, which had been pretty boring.“Three dozen, Sir. How many will it be?”“I’m not sure yet. It’ll depend on the color. Though I think asking deserves another dozen.”“Yes, Sir, it does.” She wondered if he’d ever spank her for a true punishment, spank her hard, with his thick belt, or something worse.Spank, spank, spank. Her ass was starting to smart, starting to feel toasty. “Four dozen, Sir.”“Okay, one more to go.” These were harder, more on her lower cheeks, over and over in the same two spots.“Five dozen, Sir.” Part of her was sorry it was already over, was wishing for more.“Good girl,” he said, rubbing her ass. “Now a few with the hairbrush, some bruises would be good.”Now she was annoyed with that part of her wishing for more. He walked out of the room, no doubt getting her hairbrush. Her wicked, large, wooden hairbrush.He came back, slapping the brush against his hand. “I’m thinking two dozen should be good. Which side is more sensitive?”“The left, Sir.”“Okay, we’ll start on the right. Arch up. We want good bruises where you sit down. I so like you sitting on a sore ass, reminding you that you’re owned. It makes me hard just thinking about it.” She liked that, arched up for him.Crack, crack, crack. The hairbrush damn well hurt.“One dozen, Sir.” Her voice sounded higher, less sure.“Do you think about me spanking you, every day, when you brush your hair?” She’d had to pick it out, bring him one that pleased him. It had been expensive.“Yes, Sir.” Crack, crack, crack, each one slightly harder, or maybe it just felt that way.“Does it turn you on, to think about that? Do you get wet?” He sounded like the accountant, his voice relaxed and reasonable, despite what he was doing to her bottom.“Yes, Sir, every time. I wonder when you’ll use it again.” Crack, crack. “Two dozen, Sir.”“Oh, that looks good. Very nice and red. We’ll have to see if we get the bruises I want. You might need more later.”“Yes, Sir.”“Now the other side. Arch up.” She did, though she knew it was going to hurt. She wanted the bruises, too. Liked when he squeezed her ass and it caught her breath.Crack, crack, crack.“One dozen, Sir.” This side was more sensitive. Why was that?The last dozen were harder, pushing her limits. Finally, she could say, “Two dozen, Sir.”“Good girl.” He walked away, came back a few minutes later. “I have a few surprises for you, too. A few new toys.” The wickedness in his voice made her even wetter. “I’m going to leave you like this for fifteen or twenty minutes. You are not to speak during that time. After that, we’ll start. When I come back, I want that pussy of yours very wet.”“Yes, Sir.” Fuck. Yet some part of her liked it, liked how helpless it made her feel, liked even how he ignored her. It was humiliating, she realized, to be left like this, tied and red-assed. He walked away, into the bedroom, and shut the door. After that, she couldn’t hear anything. It was a horrible forever.She was pretty sure he was making her wait longer than twenty minutes. Had he forgotten about her? It felt like thirty. Maybe it was a test, to see if she’d say something. What would he do to punish her for that? More than anything he’d ever done, this made her feel owned, like his little fuck toy. That he could do anything with her, including ignore her.The door opened. Her body tensed up, suddenly nervous after waiting so long, wanting him to come back. He didn’t say a word. Something, not his fingers, trailed from her shoulder blades slowly up to her ass. It almost tickled, like twenty tiny fingertips caressing her skin.“Enjoy your time alone, my slut?”“Not really, Sir. But it did make me feel owned.”“Good girl. I love your honesty, your pure heart.” The twenty tiny fingertips kept playing across the skin of her back. “This is your second gift. It’s called a flogger. This one is a small one, very soft, don’t you think?”The word flogger scared her. She wasn’t even sure what it was. “Sir, it is soft.”He smacked it against her sore bottom. It stung, but not much. A hand spread her cheeks, and the tips of the flogger played with her asshole, then trailed up and down the backs of her thighs. “I seem to remember a certain slut enjoying spanking her clit with a ruler.”That caused a rush of blood into her snatch. “Maybe a little…”He laughed about that. “We’ll see if you like this.” He lightly tapped the strands of the flogger against her pussy. Her unprotected pussy, no way for her to close her legs. God she loved that, the helplessness. Slowly he tapped her pussy harder and harder with the strands of the flogger. “Slut, do you like that?”She wanted to lie. She couldn’t. “Yes, Sir.”“Mmm…good girl.” The pussy spanking stopped. almanbahis casino He moved in front of her, and she heard him unzip his pants. That could become her favorite sound. “We’re going to play a simple game, a game a slut will enjoy. You’re going to suck my cock. I’m going to use the flogger on you, on your back, on your ass. Some might wrap around and get your nipples. I know you’ll like that.” He demonstrated one, the strands of the flogger smacking lightly against the side of her ribs, the tips sneaking around and popping her breast. She gasped. Damn she liked that. “Some might slip between your legs, find you asshole, or your owned pussy.” He demonstrated that. She wanted him to do that harder. “When I come in your mouth, and you swallow it all, then I’ll stop. A slut might slow down, or not use her tongue much, if she was enjoying getting—what would the word be, flogged?—getting flogged. But if she wanted it to stop…” The tip of his cock touched her lips. She opened wide. “Do you want to play the game, my slut.”“Yes, Sir,” she said, eagerly.He slid his cock into her willing mouth. The flogger smacked each ass cheek. It didn’t hurt, stung a bit, but she liked it. Then one got her pussy, a bit harder. She liked that too, but her mind realized that at some point it would start to hurt. She would need him close to coming, at that point. Suddenly, she understood the game.He pulled his cock out of her mouth, put his lips near her ear. His voice very kind, he whispered, “Love, I haven’t done this before, to anyone. If it gets too much, you will snap your fingers twice. It is not my intent to hurt you or punish you. At least not any more than you crave.”She whispered back, “Yes, Sir.” She told herself that she would not be snapping her fingers. He kissed her, long and deep. Then his cock was back, pushing rudely into her owned mouth. The flogger teased her back, light, playful swishes. Then it smacked into her ass.She really liked the game. Liked the flogger. Liked the depravity of it all. Wanted the game to go on a long, long time. How did he unlock this crazy, wicked part of her? Where had this come from?Five minutes later, she was less sure. Some she really liked, the flogger cracking into her ass and her pussy. Her nipples too. She loved when he caressed her with it. But the ones on her back, or on the side of her thighs, those started to hurt. And she did want him to come. She started sucking hard, using her tongue.“Oh, is my slut reaching her limit?” Her only answer was to suck even harder. “Mmm, good girl. You’re getting so good at that. Yes, you definitely suck cock like an owned slut.” He started thrusting into her mouth, his cock hard and filling her. The flogger punished her, one, two, three in a row reaching around and hitting her snatch. She moaned around his cock, sucked harder. “I can see how red your skin is, how red your ass is. It looks like art.” Smack, smack, smack, still not hard, but starting to sting, everywhere.He said, “I love looking down, watching my cock disappear between your lips. That’s it, baby. Suck on it. Do you want my come?”She nodded. “Only a slut would want a big load of come in her mouth. To taste the biggest load of the day. You are such a naughty, naughty little slut.” God, just a touch of her clit, and she was sure she’d come. It felt so owned, even more so than in her office, on her knees, her ass red, sucking on him for the first time. To be tied, blindfolded, helpless, having her mouth fucked—that’s definitely what this was. A blowjob on her knees, that she still had some control over. This was being owned and fucked.The flogger kept finding wicked spots. She wanted five or six on her clit—she thought she could come from that. She tried to stretch her legs wider, silently begging for it, like she was being edged without being touched, wanting her clit spanked. He probably didn’t even know how turned on she was. Nearly two weeks of edging would do that to a girl. Did he have any idea? Did he care? He seemed focused on other things. He spanked her ass, harder and harder, catching her snatch once or twice, the little flogger making a swishing sound before it hit her skin.He made the little growl—the sound she associated with his coming. She was ready, wanting it, sucking harder and harder, the bottom of her tongue already sore. The flogging stopped. A hand found her hair, held her head in place, as he came in her mouth. He kept pumping. She kept sucking (like a good little fuck toy). Another spurt. It was more than the previous night, which made her feel good. She swallowed, swallowed again, wanted more and kept sucking even as his hips slowed down.Loudly, he said, “Fuck!” He mostly pulled out, only the head in her mouth. She licked it, sucked on it. He pulled it out, wiped it on her lips and cheek, leaving the last bit of his come in both places. “Damn, Hayley, damn. God damn. That was hot.” He laid down on the floor in front of her, his breath loud and rough. “I’m not sure how you’re going to top that one.” She was damn sure going to try.His hand reached up, ran over her head and hair. “Damn. I may need a nap, after that. I’m not sure my balls have anything left for your other two holes.”Even though she knew the answer, she asked, “Did I please you Sir? Am I a good fuck toy?”“The best, my slut. The best ever.” That made her smile because he did not say things he didn’t mean. He kissed her, which he usually didn’t do when he’d just come in her mouth.