Broken Unicorn

Jason lay back on the couch, nude from the waist down, his half-hard cock still dribbling the tiniest traces of his cum on his leg as he watched Jessica sashay into the bedroom. As the door closed, he turned to look back to Phil, who was still bound to the chair, naked except for his restraints and the cock cage which contained his diminutive manhood. A ring gag pried Phil’s jaws apart, and Phil was actively trying to swallow down Jason’s cum which Jessica had spit into his mouth.

“You know man, this is a lot to process,” Jason said to his friend as he sat up, unbuttoning his shirt so that he was now fully nude. “We’ve been friends forever. I never thought I’d be the one cuckolding you.” Jason paused, lowering his voice enough that Jessica wouldn’t hear it from the other room. “You’re ok with this? You want me to fuck her?”

Phil nodded vigorously, and Jason saw that Phil’s constrained cock twitched with excitement.

“Well, if you’re sure, I’m not going to say no. I’ve wanted inside her pants since I met her.”

“I know you have,” a sultry voice said from the doorway to the bedroom. “And now you’re going to get your chance.” Jessica stood there wearing a black leather underbust corset that pressed her ample breasts up, high and proud on her chest. Each breast was full and lush, well more than a handful for Jason. She had silver dollar-sized areolae and nipples that were as thick as Jason’s pinkie finger, the light brown color in stark contrast to her pale skin. There was a lower part to the corset, but the gusset of the attached panty was open, revealing a thick auburn colored bush that did nothing to hide her thick outer labia.

Jessica’s legs were covered in fishnet thigh-high stockings which led to a pair of high-heeled short boots that strapped to her feet. She wore black elbow-length gloves that gleamed with a satiny sheen, and in her left hand she held a leather flogger.

“Are  you ready to serve your Mistress, worm?” Jessica asked as her normally kind smile curled into a wicked looking snarl. She slapped her right palm with the flogger, a loud “smack” echoing across the apartment.

Phil nodded his assent and submission, but something in Jason rebelled at the thought. He wanted this woman, desperately. And since Phil seemed to be ok with it, he fully intended to have her. But being submissive wasn’t in his nature.

“I don’t think so,” he said as he stood. With a few long strides he crossed the room and grabbed Jessica by the wrist holding the flogger. “He may be fine with being your little sissy cuckold, but I’m not that kind of man.”

Jessica opened her mouth to protest, but before she could speak, Jason had his other hand across her mouth.

“Listen, slut,” she flinched at the term, but didn’t otherwise react, “You brought me here for a reason. You wanted to be fucked hard by a man, not by your little sissy over there. You wanted him to watch. And that’s fine. I’m here for that. But you don’t get to treat me the same way you treat him. You may not admit it, but you want someone to control you the same way that you use him.”

He released the wrist holding the flogger and reached out to gently massage Jessica’s left tit, his fingers gliding across the fleshy globe until her nipples were hard as rock, the skin of the areolae puckering up. He then pinched her nipple hard between thumb and forefinger, pulling gently until it was stretched out.

Jason paused before continuing. “Now, I’m going to remove my hand. When I do, there are two possible outcomes. The first, you drop to your knees, and beg to suck your Master’s cock again before he fucks your slut cunt. If you do or say anything else? I get dressed and walk out that door, leaving you to try to get satisfaction from his wimpy little dick. If you understand, nod yes.”

There were the beginnings of tears in Jessica’s eyes as they widened, in fear or excitement Jason couldn’t quite tell, but she nodded yes, the thick mane of her red hair waving in the air, her ample bosom bobbing, sending delicious looking jiggles through her mammary flesh.

His hand came away from Jessica’s mouth, but Jason’s dark brown eyes stayed locked on Jessica’s blue ones. He stared at her as he waited for her reaction. With some reluctance, Jessica sank to her knees, keeping her eyes on Jason.

“May this slut suck on her Master’s cock?” Jessica licked her lips as her hands came to rest on Jason’s thighs. “Please, Master? May this slut use her hot, wet mouth on your gorgeous cock? May she make you hard and ready to fuck her slut cunt?”

Jason smiled as he felt a rush of blood start to make his manhood swell again. She improvised the lines a little, but she made up in enthusiasm what she failed in discipline.

“She may,” he said with a smile.

As Jessica’s red lips engulfed his cock, Jason looked over at Phil, taking in the naked look of lust that was in his friend’s eyes. The two of them may have enjoyed having Jessica dominate Phil, but apparently they enjoyed seeing Jessica controlled by someone else just as much. Well, he was certainly able to accommodate that desire. While also accommodating his own. After allowing her tongue to do a few delicious things that reminded him of the earlier blowjob, he was back to his full hardness. He reached down and hooked his hands under her arms, pulling Jessica to her feet.

Once she was on her feet, Jessica leaned in, and for the first time, Jason’s lips met hers. Her mouth was hot against his, and her lips parted, allowing his tongue to invade her mouth and claim it as his property. He could taste himself on her breath, and that made him harder than ever. His hand dipped between her thighs, feeling her heat and arousal. His finger grazed past her nether lips, the fingertip bumping her clit, and causing her to moan into his mouth.

He normally preferred a little more foreplay, and he desperately wanted to taste her – to experience the ambrosia of her cunt, to suckle from her full breasts. But the way Jessica’s body pressed against him, and the way her pussy pulled at his finger, begging it to slip inside of her, he could tell that she wanted to be fucked… now.

“Turn around,” he said authoritatively. He pushed her forward towards her bound fiance until she was standing directly in front of Phil. Gently he pressed on her shoulders so she bent forward, breasts swaying seductively in front of Phil’s face. She put her hands on Phil’s shoulders to steady herself as Jason pressed her thighs apart. He stroked his cock between her partially spread open pussy, coating it in the thick fluid that flowed from her womanhood.

“Can you feel how hard I am? How ready I am for you?”

“Yes… Master,” she whispered huskily while looking right into Phil’s eyes.

“Tell him. Tell him what you want.”

“I… want him to fuck me,” Jessica said quietly. “I want that cock. Thick and hard. Pounding into me. Fucking me. Filling me. Claiming me. My engaged pussy, that should be yours and only yours, I want it to be defiled by him. Taken by him. Fucked by him. Overflowing with his cum. I want it to make me cum as you never could. And I want you to watch.”

Phil let out a frustrated and aroused groan. He had never seen Jessica more turned on. And he had never wanted to see her fulfilled more. He nodded an assent to a question she hadn’t asked. He wanted all of that as much as she did.

“Please, Master…” Jessica said, turning her head to look at Jason over her shoulder. “Please fuck me. I’m begging you.”

Jason pushed forward, feeling her snug pussy open up to allow him in, his thickness filling her as she hadn’t been filled in months. Jessica moaned in pleasure that was just slightly tinged with pain as her pussy was stretched. Jason held himself still as he bottomed out in her, his pubic hair pressed tight against her gorgeous ass.

“And now? Now, slut, you’re going to get fucked as you never have before,” Jason said with a wicked grin.

About the Author

Broken Unicorn has been a writer since he was a child, starting off writing decidedly non-erotic stories about superheroes. As he got older, he started writing erotica about superheroes, before eventually discovering his kinky side and writing about people who could live in the real world. He lives in the midwest, and is happy to live in a very full house that includes four humans and two dogs. He can be found under the profile Broken_Unicorn https://fetlife.com/users/8765084

He had never had sex with an audience before, much less an audience that was composed one of his closest friends. But even if he had ever thought that Phil would see him fucking someone, he certainly didn’t expect it to be when he was fucking Jessica.

Jason leaned back on the couch as Jessica kneeled down between his thighs. Her manicured fingers moved swiftly as she undid the button on his jeans and then the zipper. Her delicate hand reached into his jeans, pushing past his boxers to wrap around his rapidly stiffening cock.

She turned to look over to the kitchen table, where Phil was sitting, handcuffed to the chair. He was naked, hands behind his back. Nylon straps tied his ankles to the legs of the chair, and an O-ring gag was in his mouth, strapped behind his head with a black leather strap that was almost lost in his shoulder-length curly blonde hair. His slender frame writhed against the restraints, his pale skin starkly contrasted against the glistening metal and black strapping. His cock was encased in a metal cage which easily dwarfed his diminutive manhood.

Jessica smiled as she looked at her bound fiancé. “You told me he was bigger than you were, which, ya know, isn’t difficult.” She smirked as she fished Jason’s cock out. “But you didn’t tell me he was hung.”

Jason groaned as he felt Jessica’s tongue begin to trace its way up from the base of his balls to the uncircumcised head of his cock. Her fingers gently stroked up and down in counterpoint to the sensation of her tongue. Her breath was hot and moist against his shaft, and he was rapidly getting harder than he could ever remember being.

He had lusted after Jessica for years, having known her before she even met Phil. But the timing was never right for him to make a move on her, and when she met his best friend from back home, they instantly hit it off. He had accepted that he was never going to have her, being happy for Phil. Which is why he was caught so off-guard by her request.

* * *

“You’re Phil’s Best Man, and you’ve been my friend for years, but I have a special favor to ask for as a wedding present to both of us,” she had told him earlier that afternoon as they met for coffee.

“Anything,” he said. “I love both of you guys.”

“And we love you,” she said, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Which is why I want you to fuck my brains out in front of Phil.”

* * *

Over the years, he had heard guys that Jessica dated talk about what an incredible cocksucker she was, but the stories didn’t do justice to the reality. The way her lips were moving up and down his shaft, the way she would swallow him down to the root, using her tongue and the muscles in her throat to milk his cock, the attention she paid to his balls, all of it took him to a point of ecstasy. She was still completely dressed, but she had worked his pants off, and he was so enthralled with the experience that he almost forgot that Phil was watching them from across the room.

Jessica pulled off his manhood and looked up at him, her large brown eyes clouded with lust and longing.

“I still want you to use this beautiful piece of meat to fuck me senseless, but I want to make sure you’re going to last. So, you’re going to come in my mouth now, got it?”

“Who am I to refuse such a request?” Jason said, as she took him deep in her mouth, deep-throating him. She gave several long, hard swallows that pushed him closer to his orgasm. She pulled off again and whispered huskily “Fuck my face. Use me like a whore.”

Jason didn’t need to be told twice, and as she opened her lips again, he wrapped his hands in her thick red hair, pulling her head forward as he thrust deep into her mouth. She gagged slightly, but moaned around his cock, a sound that was echoed by Phil as he watched.

Any thoughts of his friend were far from his mind as he began to fuck Jessica’s face, using her hair to guide her head back and forth. Although he couldn’t see any of her body, he had seen Jessica in a bathing suit often enough to know exactly how lush and full her body was. He could feel her tits pressing against his thighs, and the thought that he would soon be able to see them, to hold them, was enough that he rapidly unloaded. He partially pulled out of her mouth, so that her lips were wrapped about two inches down his shaft. She sucked him in as he came, and when she felt him shudder in completion, she sat back on her knees. She opened her mouth, so he could see that her mouth was filled with his seed.

As Jason collapsed back on the couch, Jessica got to her feet, sauntering over to where her fiancé was bound. Phil’s eyes were wide, and just as filled with desire as hers had been. Gazing between his legs, Jessica could see that Phil had come just from watching her suck off his best friend. His cum made a sticky mess in his lap. “Well, what’s a little more cum?” she thought as she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his wide-stretched mouth. She parted her lips and gravity pushed Jason’s thick cum out of her mouth as it plopped into Phil’s with an obscene sounding *plop*.

Jessica shuddered with her lust and longing. She could feel the dampness in her panties as she began to walk back over to Jason. His cock had remained half-hard after her blowjob, but she knew that he might need just a little bit of time to get back to the rampant hardness she wanted to feel filling her up.

“Stay right there,” she said to both men, not that Phil had a choice. “I’m going to go change into something a little more… inspiring.”

She walked into the bedroom with a purposeful sway in her hips, knowing that there were four eyes staring at her with complete longing as she shut the door behind her.

About the Author

Broken Unicorn has been a writer since he was a child, starting off writing decidedly non-erotic stories about superheroes. As he got older, he started writing erotica about superheroes, before eventually discovering his kinky side and writing about people who could live in the real world. He lives in the midwest, and is happy to live in a very full house that includes four humans and two dogs. He can be found under the profile Broken_Unicorn https://fetlife.com/users/8765084

There was nothing particularly notable about the man sitting in the pews. He wore black denim jeans that might have been a shade too tight, a blue button-up shirt, and a charcoal grey sports coat. Across his lap lay a black trench coat, neatly folded. His dark hair had the first traces of grey in it, but was thick and wavy, and his beard was neatly trimmed. His eyes were closed in thought as Father Campbell approached him.

“Can I help you, son? I’m Father Campbell.”

The man opened his hazel eyes to direct his gaze towards the priest. He held back a chuckle at being called “son” by a man who had to be at least ten years his junior. If the young priest was over thirty, he would have been shocked.

“No, Father,” he lied smoothly. “I’m just here to clear my thoughts, to try to commune with the divine. I saw that your doors were open, and didn’t think anyone would mind…”

“All are welcome in the House of God,” the priest replied. “But are you sure there is nothing I can do? Or perhaps you would like to give Confession?” The priest’s eyes flicked over to the side of the church, where he knew that Father McIntyre was taking confession. Linda was in there at present, but Father Campbell did not expect her to be much longer. She was such an innocent, pure girl – the kind of woman he used to imagine marrying before he heard the calling to the priesthood.

“Thank you, but again, no. I’m not actually Catholic, and in fact it has been years since I’ve been inside a church. I just hoped that being in the presence might help me.”

Father Campbell gave a small frown. There was something vaguely off-putting to him about this man. He was dressed conservatively enough, and well-groomed, but he sensed an aura of predation coming from the man. Although the man was sitting down, seemingly at rest, the priest couldn’t help but think of a great cat, crouched down and ready to pounce on its prey. Still, in the absence of nothing other than a feeling, he could think of no reason to tell the man to leave.

“Very well, son. If I can help you, just let me know.” With that, he turned from the man and walked to the office.

The man closed his eyes again, annoyed at being interrupted. He had counted on there being one priest inside the confessional, but hadn’t anticipated another priest within the church. Fortunately, it sounded like the priest was leaving the sanctuary. He listened closely for the sound of the confessional door opening, and almost imperceptibly heard the slight gasp of recognition escaping from Linda’s lips as she saw him.

There was a sudden and rapid “clack-clack” of her heels against the marble floor as she approached him, and then the feel of her fingers on his forearm, her well-manicured nails just slightly pressing into him through the fabric of his jacket and shirt.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed in a low whisper.

He opened his eyes, taking her in. Her short blonde hair was lightly tousled, and her green eyes shone with surprise, fear, anger and… yes, arousal as she looked at him through the frames of her glasses. She wore a light pink blouse under a long grey sweater jacket, and a floral print skirt that came down to just past her knees. Her legs were encased in stockings, and her shoes had a short heel to them. But most importantly were the two items Linda wore around her neck – a simple gold chain with a crucifix hanging from it, and a simple black velvet choker – the two accessories that symbolized her two masters.

“Waiting for you,” he said simply.

“You can’t be here,” she whispered. “This is… you can’t be here.”

“From 8:30 a.m. until 5:30 p.m., Monday through Friday, while you’re at work,” he held up one finger.

“During services on Sunday mornings, from 11:00 a.m. until noon,” he held up a second finger.

“Any time you are in front of your parents, younger sister, or co-workers,” he held up a third finger.

“Any time that my orders would cause a conflict with a prior appointment, especially involving work, church, or your family,” he held up a fourth finger.

“Did I miss anything?” he finished, knowing the answer.

“No… but…”

“The terms of our agreement was that I had free access to you at any time other than those stipulated. Is that correct?”

“No…”

“No, sir,” he emphasized. She shut her mouth, looking hopelessly at him.

“It is 6:45 on a Wednesday. You are not at work. Your parents are not here, your sister is not here, and since you are to be at my apartment by 7:30 tonight, I suspect you have no other appointments pending. If you want out of our agreement, you know you are free to do so at any time. Consider that. Now, I am going to remain seated here while you leave the sanctuary and go to the restroom. When you are done, you will return and sit next to me. I expect you to either hand me your panties if you continue to accept me as your Master, or you can return your collar to me if you do not.”

He closed his eyes as he saw her begin to struggle. She was flushed, but whether from anger, embarrassment, or arousal he wasn’t entirely sure. He heard her walk away and waited, patiently. The taboo of being controlled by him while still dealing with her religious beliefs was one they had played with before. The day Linda came to his home to find him dressed as a priest was one of their hottest sessions yet – just from having her suck his cock while dressed that way was enough to get her wetter than she had ever been for him, and when he fucked her while still wearing the collar, she came so hard that she passed out. But in the safety of his play space was one thing – would being controlled while in God’s house be too much for her?

It took longer for her to return than could be explained simply by the time required to complete the task, and he imagined that she must have struggled with her decision. But eventually, he felt the heat and weight of her presence as she sat down next to him. His hands were folded on his lap, over his coat, and her left hand reached over to his right and gently tapped on the back of his hand with one nail. He turned his hand over and opened it, to feel her place something light and lacy with a slight damp patch in his palm.

“Sir…” she started to whisper to him before he cut her off.

“No, don’t speak. I know that was difficult for you to do. Thank you, pet.”

He took his hand off the coat and slipped it into his pocket, depositing her panties. When he removed his hand from the pocket, he placed it on her leg, shifting the coat so that it was draped across her lap as well as his.

His fingers rested just above her knee and he gently rubbed them back and forth, feeling the slip and slide of the fabric of her skirt on top of her stockings. There was nothing inappropriate about the touch. But still he felt her stiffen up in fear.

“Relax, pet. I’m not doing anything… yet. We’re just talking for now. Tell me, why were your panties wet?”

She replied in a low voice, designed not to be heard by anyone more than two feet from her.

“Because of you, Sir.”

He smiled. “That’s very nice to hear. But be more precise. What about me? Memories of me? My presence? Looking at me?” His fingers began to slowly work her skirt up, using tiny little movements that were completely invisible under the coat. Once the skirt was just above her knee, he dipped his fingers under the hem, enjoying the silken fabric over her legs.

Instinctively, she started to bring her knees together, but the firmness of his hand on her leg made her stop, and with a conscious effort, she relaxed her legs and parted them slightly as she began to speak.

“It was seeing you here, Sir. I love being yours, and letting you do whatever you want to me. But when I’m in the church, I… I try not to think about you. I don’t want to let my thoughts of you distract me from prayer. And normally, I don’t have too much problem with that. But to see you here, it felt so… wrong. So naughty, it… it made me wet. Immediately. I still am.”

He smiled. “I’m sure you are, pet. And don’t worry, I would never dream of distracting you during services. Or during confession. But afterwards…” his voice trailed off as he began to slide his fingers up her thigh, sliding beneath the loose skirt. As his fingers made their way past the halfway point, he felt the hem of her stocking and the bare flesh above it.

“So, tell me pet, what were you confessing to? What sins did you tell the priest?”

She blushed. “Sir… I… I can’t tell you that… It’s private. Between me and God.”

“And the priest.”

“Yes, but it’s different. He’s not supposed to… It’s just different. I can’t tell you. Not won’t, can’t.”

She rarely pushed back that firmly, so he decided not to press it. Besides, even as she protested, her thighs parted more, allowing him to slide his hand further up. The smooth, supple skin of her thighs was warm against his hand, and as the back of his hand approached the juncture of her thighs, he could feel the heat radiating from her sex and the slipperiness of her moisture on her thighs.

“Very well, pet. I won’t ask you to tell me. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t wonder, that I can’t guess.”

His hand cupped her sex, his index finger slipping just between her bare nether lips. There was a patch of silky blonde hair on her mound above her vulva, but her lips themselves were waxed smooth. Her lips parted easily at the slightest pressure of his finger, and he inserted just the tip of it into the snug tight sheath of her flesh.

He gently probed into her pussy as he spoke. “I think that you didn’t confess to all the things I make you do, but I think you probably confessed to something like ‘I had sex outside of marriage with my boyfriend,’ but I doubt very much that you told him how much of a slut you are. That you like to be tied up and blindfolded. That you fuck yourself with toys and vibrators while I watch. That you suck my cock in a moving car while I drive. That you scream out in agonized pleasure as I fuck you hard and fast, or that you love the feel of my cock deep in your ass. The idea that you fuck other men at my command is almost certainly nothing you’d ever admit to. Am I right about that?”

His finger continued to slide in and out of her, not moving in deeply, mostly just teasing the opening to her pussy as his thumb swiveled up to swirl around her clit, which was swollen with her arousal.

She nodded, almost imperceptibly, and swallowed before she spoke in an effort not to moan aloud. “Yes… Sir. No… details. But, yes.”

He smiled. “And I’m sure there were a dozen or so minor sins, ones that aren’t worth mentioning really. Times you got angry at a co-worker, or swore because someone cut you off in traffic.” He pushed his finger deeper into her, curling to stroke at her g-spot as his thumb pressed harder against her clit. She gasped in pleasure, and her thighs tightened around his hand.

“Hush now, pet. Keep your eyes fixed forward. Don’t give any visible sign of what I’m doing to you. Of what you’re feeling. God, your cunt is just hungry for my hand. You love being used like this, here in a place where you do everything you can not to admit what a slut you are.” It wasn’t a question, and Linda knew it.

“Did you tell the priest how much you lust after the younger priest? Father Campbell? He’s young, and good looking. He’s a God-fearing man. If he wasn’t a priest, I’m sure he’s the kind of man your parents would dream of having you marry. I’m sure he’d make sweet, romantic, passionless love to you once a week, on Saturday nights after a cup of wine, just in time for you to cleanse yourself with confession the next day.”

She shook her head in denial, but he could feel as Linda’s cunt spasmed around his finger at the thought.

“He’s the one you were thinking of, wasn’t he? The day I wore the priest’s collar. He’s the one you thought of as you swallowed my cock. He’s the one whose face was in your mind as I rammed into you from behind.” His finger plunged deep into her, her pussy eagerly devouring the digit. “When I came in your sweet cunt, you imagined it was his cock that pleasured you. Wasn’t it?”

She clenched her thighs together, and from the shallow breaths she was taking, he could tell that he had her on the verge of an orgasm. Her eyes closed tightly, and a tear leaked out from one eye as she nodded.

“What would you do,” he asked as he withdrew his finger from within her and pinched her clit between finger and thumb. “What would you do, if I were to take you up to the altar right now, lean you against it, flip up your skirt, and start fucking you? Here. In the presence of God. Would you stop me?”

“No…. No, sir,” she whispered, her body tense.

“Or even better… if I were to take you by the hand, lead you to the office, and demand that you fall to your knees for the priest? Would you reach into his robes, take out Father Campbell’s cock, and suck it clean? Even if he has known a woman, I’m sure he’s never experienced the kind of blowjob only a talented slut like you can deliver. You’d have his cum down your throat in moments.” She trembled under his touch, her thighs squeezing together, increasing the pressure of his hand on her greedy sex. “Would you then fuck him? Making him forsake his vows? I’m sure he’d do it for a chance to fuck a slut like you.”

“If… that’s… what you want… sir,” Linda whispered, trying but failing to hide the lust in her voice. He smiled. This was definitely an area they would need to explore more in the future.

Abruptly, he pulled his hand away from her.

“I think what I want to do, is to pray. Perhaps I’ll even go confess my sins. You should leave. I believe you have someplace to be in,” he checked his watch, “the next half hour. Go. Make yourself ready and be expecting me when I arrive. I’ve already laid something out for you to wear, and a toy to keep yourself occupied until I’m there. Do not cum until I’m there to give you permission.”

Flushed, Linda stood up on shaky legs and stared down at her Master, naked lust in her eyes. She wanted nothing more than for his cock to be inside her – NOW. But she knew better than to ask. He would take her when he was ready to do so, not before. So she nodded, turned and left the church.

As she left, he heard another set of footsteps, and turning he saw that Father Campbell was approaching him.

“You didn’t say that you knew Linda. She’s been a member of this parish since she was a little girl, long before I was sent here. She’s a sweet girl.”

“She is,” the man said, smiling. “To be honest, she’s the reason I came here today. She tells me how much the church means to her, and I wanted to get more insight into that.” The man stood, folding his overcoat over one arm as he stood, which did nothing to conceal that she had left him painfully erect inside his jeans.

“Thank you, Father.”

The man left, taking his time as he returned to his car. He stopped to get food for himself and Linda, taking the long way home, to give her more time to push herself to the edge.

He pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building, and saw her car parked in the spot reserved for guests. He strolled to the door, unlocked it, and entered. Her moans and sighs were audible from the bedroom, but he turned away from that to place the food in the refrigerator. It could be warmed up later.

He walked into the bedroom to see her on the bed, legs splayed open, with the wand buzzing away on her clit. Her thighs were shiny with moisture above her stockings, her black high-heeled shoes were tightly buckled into place. The corset pushed her breasts high on her chest, while doing nothing to conceal her nipples, which were hard and tight. Elbow-length gloves adorned her hands, one of which was holding the wand tightly against her sex while the other toyed with one nipple. Her make-up had been reapplied, dark red lips and smoky eyes replacing the much more subtle tones she had worn to work.

Linda’s eyes were closed when he entered the room, but they opened when she heard him. Her eyes were thick with lust, her glasses set on the nightstand next to the bed.

“Please, Sir. Please…” she whined.

“You may cum now. I’ll fuck you after dinner.”

Placing the wand directly on her clit, she flicked the setting that increased the vibration as her other hand began to pull on her nipple. Within moments, she started to moan, moans which increased in volume and pitch as she worked herself into a frenzy.

The moans combined, becoming one continuous sound that rose to the heavens like a prayer, and when she cried out in orgasm, her master gazed at her in adoration. “Amen,” he said quietly.

About the Author

Broken Unicorn has been a writer since he was a child, starting off writing decidedly non-erotic stories about superheroes. As he got older, he started writing erotica about superheroes, before eventually discovering his kinky side and writing about people who could live in the real world. He lives in the midwest, and is happy to live in a very full house that includes four humans and two dogs. He can be found under the profile Broken_Unicorn https://fetlife.com/users/8765084

“What are you going to do to me, Sir?” she asked as I finished securing the nylon strap to her left wrist. She was bound to the bed, nylon straps going from each wrist to opposite ends of the headboard, a separate set of nylon straps attached to each ankle and going to the legs of the bed. They were pulled tight – tighter than I normally restrain would restrain her, leaving her with little ability to move her limbs.

I had restrained her like this before, but there were several few new additions this time around. A leather belt had been secured around her waist, and it was similarly fastened to the bed, preventing her from even arching her back or wiggling from side to side on the bed. The belt included loops that went around her upper thighs, similarly preventing her from moving her pelvis.

She was not naked – not quite. She was wearing a corset, the top lovingly squeezing her breasts high, her nipples just poking out over the top of the corset. A pair lace panties on, one with an open gusset, covered her nethers, while still allowing me access to her pussy should I so desire. Thigh-high stockings encased her legs, the nylon sheathes giving a smoothness to her calves and thighs, allowing me to easily slide my hand up from her ankle to within bare inches of the exposed flesh of her upper thighs. Finally, there was a satin choker around her neck – not quite a collar, but still a token of her surrender to me.

“You shall see, pet. You shall see.”

I stepped back to admire my handiwork and her loveliness. I consider myself blessed to have such a beautiful and sexy pet. I appreciated every inch of her body, from those attributes which would be unquestioningly considered an asset by anyone who viewed her, to those which small-minded fools might call imperfections. I found no imperfections in her at all. She was exactly as she should be, each element a part of the equation that makes her who she was. A word from her lips, the right look from her eyes, either of those was enough to make me hard, to make me want her. Having her here before me, completely surrendered to my will, giving her trust, her lust, her desire all over to me, putting herself in my hands, it was all enough to make my cock rampant enough to threaten to tear through my jeans.

She cast her gaze downwards, examining how effectively she was trussed up, giving some slight tugs at the restraints to test the limits of her movement, discovering that she was rather more significantly restricted than she was used to. Her eyes came back up to look at me, and for a moment I was lost in the deep brown pools I saw within. “No blindfold?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at me.

“Not today, no. Right now, I want you to see everything. I want you to be able to view with your eyes, smell with your nose, and hear with your ears. No, what I am interested in playing with today? Is restricting your ability to touch.”

Her eyes widened at that. “Sir?” she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

Deftly, my hands went to my shirt and I began to unbutton it, revealing my bare chest to her. I knew how she enjoyed viewing the hair that covers my chest, seeing the broad expanse of my chest, the width of my shoulders. I crawled onto the bed, kneeling between her open thighs, giving her an unobstructed view of my disrobing.

“We’ve gone far too long apart, pet. We’ve been able to talk, to video chat, to send messages through text and voice, even the occasional photo. Almost everything has been possible for us to share except for touching one another.”

“Yes…”

“If we could go several months without touching, what’s a little longer?” I asked with a smile as I slid the now unbuttoned shirt off my shoulders.

I lowered myself down to be directly above her, supporting myself on my elbows, a few inches all that separates us from being pressed against one another. The wiry hairs on my chest are just out of reach of touching the delicate skin of her upper breasts. Our heads are close enough that we could easily kiss.

“Can you feel me, pet? Can you feel the heat coming off my body? How do you feel, knowing that my desire for you is so intense as to create physical warmth?”

“Yesssssss,” she hissed as she tried to arch her back, to press herself to me, but I held myself just out of reach. Her head lifted up, lips seeking mine, but I drew back at the same time, preventing our mouths from touching as I looked her in the eyes.

“Patience, pet. Or I shall make you wait even longer.”

Her head flopped back onto the pillow, red hair splaying against the pillowcase, a slight pout on her face.

“I want you, Sir. I want to feel you.”

“And I you, pet. But not. Quite. Yet.”

On my knees and elbows, I moved down so that my head was level with her neck.

I whispered “I have always loved the delicate curve of her neck, the way it invites me in, asking me to kiss it. To feel you shudder as my lips make contact. To scrape my teeth against her skin, biting into her tender flesh. To taste you…” My lips hovered millimeters from her. She had to to have been able to feel the heat and the moisture of my mouth, almost close enough to touch her… but not quite.

“Taste me sir, please.”

I chuckled as I moved away, leaving her wanting more, moving my head down so that I was level with her breasts, her nipples hard with her excitement, poking just over the edge of the black satin corset. As my mouth moved down past them, I gently blew, the air dancing over her delicate flesh, and I saw them crinkle and stiffen.

“The feel of your nipples between my lips always pleases me, pet,” I said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “The flesh of your breasts pressed against my mouth, the way you moan as my tongue plays with those sensitive nubs…” Her breasts were modest, but they have always been perfect in my eyes. The feel of them in my hands never failed to excite me, and I was rock hard within my jeans. I wanted to continue to tease her, but for a moment, I was almost overcome with the desire to take her within my mouth.

“They are yours, sir. Do whatever you like to them.” The pleading in her voice was unmistakable. She was hungry for my touch, but still trying to maintain control.

“Don’t worry, pet. I shall.”

I slid further down, past the smooth flesh of her stomach, moving below where the leather belt encircled her waist, continuing until my head was between her thighs. Looking upwards, I could see how the gusset exposed her sex to me, the whispy hairs of her pubis poking through the opening. Her lips were plump and full with the blood of her arousal. The lips were slightly parted, slick with her juices, exposing the pink flesh within. I could see how wet and relaxed her pussy was, the muscles taught and supple, ready to gently squeeze me as I entered her. Her scent was strong, the musk intoxicating.

“Your pussy is beautiful,” I said as I looked at her womanhood. “You are so wet, so willing, so ready for me.”

“I am,” she said in a voice that was breathy with desire.

“I can see how much your pussy aches to be filled, your lips are parted, waiting to be filled.”

“Yessss,” she moaned.

My hands reached out, touching her for the first time since I had finished binding her, gripping her by the hips.

“Your clit is hard, I can see it throb with her desire. You want my fingers on it, rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves. You want my finger inside you, exploring, probing her wet pussy, stretching you, stroking those sensitive places inside that I know so well.”

“Please, sir. Fill me.”

“You’re ready, aren’t you? Maybe you don’t even want my fingers in you? Perhaps you simply want to feel my cock filling you up. My hardness filling you. Our flesh slamming together as I pound you. Hands on your hips, guiding you as I pump into you.”

“Oh, sir, please….. Please….”

I slid my hands from her hips to the straps attached to the belt, using it to lift her hips slightly, the sudden movement tilting her pelvis, exposing the lower part of her anatomy to me.

“Your juices have gotten everywhere, pet,” I said with amusement in my voice. “Your ass is slick, and wet. I can see your other entrance, and it looks enflamed with desire as well. What if I told you that today, your ass is what I desire? That I want to feel my cock in your nether passage, that I want you to whimper and moan as I take you from the rear?” I could see a slight spasm of her anus, and I smiled. “Does the idea excite you?”

“Sir, whatever you want. Wherever you want. Use all of me – any of me. But please, I want to feel you.”

“Soon, pet,” I said as I moved back away from the beautiful sight of her exposed sex. I got up to my knees, kneeling above her.

“Do you see what you have done to me, pet?” I asked as I stroked my cock through my jeans. The bulge is evident, I was as hard as she had ever made me. “My cock aches to be inside you. I want to feel you wrapped around me, I want to hear you moan as I take you.”

I rubbed a little harder, and there was the smallest wet spot visible through my jeans. “Do you see that?” I asked, pointing to the darker fabric. “That is because of you. That is because I want you so badly, that my cock is leaking with desire. Do you want to see?”

“Yes, sir. I do.”

I unbuttoned my jeans and slowly pulled down the zipper. The black fabric of my boxers was visible to her now, and the wet spot was larger from where the fabric of my underwear absorbed it before it permeated the denim of my pants. I slid the jeans down over my hips and past my thighs, so that all that separated my cock from her gaze was the thin cotton of my underclothing. I peeled them the rest of the way down, and then walked forward on my knees, straddling her, being very careful to keep my thighs wide enough to not touch, and to stay high enough that she did not feel my weight on her.

I moved forward until there were only a few inches between her face and my crotch.

“Can you see me?” I asked. “Do you see how ready I am for you? How hard you have made me? Can you make out the thickness and length of my shaft through the thin material? Can you see how heavy my balls are with cum, filled with desire for you?”

“I can sir,” she said. Her voice was husky with her own need. “I want you in my mouth, I want to taste you, I want you to fuck my throat.”

I grinned. “I want that as well, pet. But we’re not touching. Not yet, at least.” She pouted. “But do you want to see more?”

“Please?” she asked.

I gripped the elastic waistband, and pulled it down over my hips. My cock sprung forward, hard and ready, the head slick with my precum, a large translucent drop of which was gathered at the tip. I watched as she licked her lips with desire.

“I want you, Sir.”

“And I you.” I scooted back just an inch so that I remained close, but pulled back enough that she could more fully appreciate the sight. Her tongue darted out, almost trying to lick at my cock, but she caught herself, licking her lips instead. She was such a good little pet.

“Do you want to taste me?” I asked, prepared to give her a treat.

“If I can? Yes sir. Use my mouth. Let me feel you inside me.”

I chuckled, darkly. “Oh no, pet. That isn’t going to happen.”

A look of confusion crossed her face as I rose higher. “Open your mouth pet. And keep your eyes open and fixed on me.”

I straddled her face, the head of my cock level with her mouth. Her lips and teeth spread as she opened her mouth, and her tongue extended towards my cock without trying to make contact.

I took my cock in my hand, and began to slowly stroke it. As I did so, the blood continued to flow, and I got harder and more engorged. The teasing I was giving her had teased me as well, and I wanted her as badly as she wanted me. As I gave my cock long, languid strokes, the precum began to flow again, and before long, my cock was slick with my fluids. There was now enough for what I had in mind.

I pointed the head of my cock down, aiming at her mouth as if I were preparing to have her pleasure me orally, and slowly the precum pooled around the tip.

“Do you see that pet?” I asked as it gathered into a heavy drop that slowly started to descend from the head. “Your taste. It is coming for you. Slowly. Can you wait?”

“I don’t want to,” she said, her eyes fixed on her prize. “But for you? I will.”

I jacked my cock gently a few times, coaxing more fluid out, and the drop stretches the limits of the viscosity of the precum as it grew. She watched, and licked her lips, and I watched her watching. The hunger in her eyes fed my own.

Eventually, the drop grew too large, and the weight causes it to detach. It spun through the air, falling like a droplet of liquid gold, and it landed on her outstretched tongue.

“Mmmmmmhhhhh,” she moaned. “Better than I expected. I want more.”

“And I want you, pet,” I said as I pulled my underwear the rest of the way down.

“Then take me sir. Please. Oh, please. Ass. Pussy. Mouth. I don’t care. I just want you.”

I smile. What a good little pet she was.

I brought my cock forward so it touched her lips. She parted them, taking me in her mouth. I moaned in pleasure as her lips and tongue made contact with my cock, the suction sending shocks of pleasure down my cock and up my spine. I could happily let things end with this. I ached with the need to spill my seed within her. But that is not how I wished to take her, not the first time after so long apart.

As her tongue danced along the underside of my shaft, I withdrew, my cock now slick with my precum and her saliva.

“No protein shake?” she asked with a mischievous smile.

“No,” I groaned as I slid down, taking my place between her thighs. The head of my cock just parted her lips, and I felt her body opening up, preparing itself to be filled by me.

“You’re mine, pet.” I said as I slowly slid into her. “Do you understand?” Our pubic bones made contact as I finished embedding myself into her, her lips pulled tight around my shaft as I sank into her. The heavy weight of my balls pulled down, and rested against the curve of her ass, letting me feel the silkiness of her panties against me.

“I do sir. I am yours. Completely.” Her pussy squeezed me gently. “Welcome home.”

About the Author

Broken Unicorn has been a writer since he was a child, starting off writing decidedly non-erotic stories about superheroes. As he got older, he started writing erotica about superheroes, before eventually discovering his kinky side and writing about people who could live in the real world. He lives in the midwest, and is happy to live in a very full house that includes four humans and two dogs. He can be found under the profile Broken_Unicorn https://fetlife.com/users/8765084

The room was gorgeous, decorated in dark woods and plush carpeting. The lighting came from recessed fixtures that cast a warm glow across the hotel suite, throwing shadows at the foot of the king-sized bed which dominated the bedroom.

The entrance area had a small kitchenette, and there was a bottle of champagne chilling in the ice bucket that sat on the counter. The couch was full-sized, with large, soft cushions that one could easily sink into. And there was a large soaking jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, easily large enough for two or more people to sit in and enjoy together. Or to enjoy each other in.

But she wasn’t focused on any of the luxurious accommodations of this penthouse suite on the twenty-seventh floor of this hotel other than the windows. The floor-to-ceiling windows which were a beautiful place from which to view the New Year’s Eve celebrations going on in the streets below. The floor-to-ceiling windows which made this suite highly sought after by those who wished to view fireworks on the 4th of July. The floor-to-ceiling windows that currently had the curtains drawn back, and which allowed plenty of illumination to signal out to the dark night that this suite was occupied.

She turned back to look at her Sir. Over the past few months, he had challenged her repeatedly, pushing her limits to see what she was capable of, which hang-ups she could shed. She had learned to love her body, to enjoy the feel of lingerie, to luxuriate in the gaze of men and women staring at her with hunger in their eyes. She had learned what felt good to her, learned how she could elicit moans of pleasure and desire from her partners using her body, and how their pleasure could feed into her own. Most of all, she had learned to love surrendering control to him.

He never forced her to do something that she said no to. But she had learned to leave one item on her “I could never…” list after another behind as he encouraged her to try new things. She had never thought she would enjoy the touch of another woman, or the feel of another woman under her fingers and tongue. She had no idea that another woman’s moans could send tingles of pleasure through her – until he had brought another woman into their bed. She had dreamed about, but never thought she would experience, the thrill of being penetrated by two men at once. He had given her that opportunity, and pushed beyond it, culminating in one weekend where she was the focus of five other men while Sir watched.

“I could never let just anyone see me naked,” she had told him before. “It’s fine for you to see me undressed or in lingerie. And I guess if you wanted to invite someone else in…” This had been before the first time he shared her, but after they had discussed it. “… I guess that would be ok. But in public? No. Hard limit.”

Hard limit she had said. And she meant it. But that had been before the nightclubs where she wore a short skirt and no panties. That had been before he had fingered her to a shuddering orgasm in a stairwell in the middle of a crowded convention hall. That had been before he pulled her panties down while there were eating at a restaurant, and found her pussy soaking wet from the excitement.

She walked to the window. The people below looked so small. There was so little chance that anyone would look up at their suite. Even if they did, they couldn’t possibly make out details, could they? But then, there were people on the street with binoculars, all the better to watch the fireworks the city would set off to ring in the new year. There was the chance that someone could look up and see… see everything.

As she looked at him, his eyes were focused back on her. He knew that he was absorbing every detail of her, and what she wore. She had dressed to please him. They had gone to dinner before, and she wore a slinky black dress, sleeveless, with a single shoulder strap over her left shoulder, that clung to her curves, and showed plenty of her alabaster-white skin. Her full breasts were contained under the dress, but pushed up to show plenty of cleavage by the corset she wore underneath. A large slit up the side exposed plenty of a stocking covered leg, held in place by the garter belt she wore. He had given her permission to wear panties tonight, but they were crotchless and she could feel the dampening between her legs. The high-heeled boots she had worn earlier had been abandoned before they returned to the room, to the relief of her aching feet. And her shoulder-length auburn hair had been piled into an elegant but messy updo that paired neatly with her cat’s-eye glasses, which framed her deep brown eyes.

“Do you really want me to do this?” She asked, before adding on a deeply needed “Sir?”

“I want you to embrace your sensuality. You are without a doubt the sexiest woman I have ever known. The look on your face when you give yourself up makes everyone who sees you want you. I know how much the idea of this scares you… but it scares you because it excites you.

She nodded, submissively.

“Then I will do it,” she said.

“As I knew you would,” he said while he reached for the remote control, starting the music.

The rich notes of Marvin Gaye filled the suite as she turned away from Sir to face the window.

“Dance like you would if you were seducing me. But know that you aren’t seducing me. Look out at the city. Look out at the world. You’re seducing all of them. Everyone who could possibly look up at the window and see you. Seduce them.”

She let the music wash over her, feeling the beat deep within her bones, and then began to sway her hips in time with the song. Slowly she paced towards the window, raising her hands above her head, briefly tangling her fingers in her hair, and then placing her palms against the glass. Sinuously, she pressed herself against the glass, slowly peeling herself away.

Her hand came up, slipping the strap of the dress over her shoulder, the sudden looseness in the dress exposing more of her cleavage, the top of the corset just visible at the edge of the neckline. Her hands reached behind her, the deep red lacquer on her nails clicking as she took the zipper between two fingers and unzipping the dress down to her waist.

She shrugged, lifting one shoulder, then the other, the alternating tension shimmying the dress down to her waist. As the music continued, she rolled her hips, the dress sliding over them, and then falling down her legs, gravity assisting her with her disrobing.

Legs moved, kicking the dress aside. She was still covered, just barely, but she knew that what she wore didn’t really conceal anything. Moisture made her thighs shine as her arousal dripped down onto the bare flesh above the tops of her stockings. The open gusset in her panties displayed her sex, lips spreading as they longed to be parted and filled, auburn pubic hair peaking through the opening. The corset was just tight enough that her breasts threatened to overflow the top, the barest hint of areola visible.

The glass was cold against her skin as she pressed against it, goosebumps rising on the flesh of her boobs. She spread her legs wide, smelling the scent of her arousal as she did so. Sir’s eyes dug into her ass, barely concealed by the skimpy panties that disappeared into the crevice between her buttocks.

“Keep going Pet,” he said as the music changed. Beyonce’s voice dripped sex and honey as her cover of “Fever” began. Her hands to her breasts, caressing them as they dipped lower, undoing the closures which kept the corset closed tight.

Tortuously slow her fingers moved, undoing one clasp after another until the only thing which kept the corset closed was the grip she kept it on it. He could see her tremble before her hands let go, and the corset fell to the floor. The smooth expanse of pale skin which made up her back faced him, as she leaned forward, bringing the sensitive flesh of her tits in contact with the icy cold glass. Her nipples stiffening and hardening as she did so. Her face moved forward and her lips parted as her tongue gently traced a line on the window, the heat from within her lungs steaming it up, and letting the trail her tongue left be starkly contrasted with the stain of her breath.

“Anyone could see you,” she suddenly heard in her ear. He had moved up behind her, silently. His hands were on her hips, fingers digging in just above the lace of her panties. “They can see you the way I see you. So in touch with your sensuality. Filled with sexual desire. Anyone looking up right now would want you.”

One hand left her hip, moving down between her legs, spreading them wider. She hadn’t heard him unzip his pants, but she felt the hard flesh of his cock, just touching her lower lips.

“They would want you, but tonight, only I can have you.”

The head spread her open, just slightly within her, teasing her.

“I am going to fuck you. Now. Right in this window. When you come, your face will be visible to anyone, the pleasure of your orgasm plain to see.”

He pressed into her, his cock filling her in all the ways that felt best. She was no virgin when she first came to him, and since being with him, he had given her more cocks than she had experienced in all her years before meeting her Sir, but no one felt more right within her than he did.

Hips moved as he pressed into her, his pubic bone pressed against the flesh of her ass. The hand that had been used to guide him within her came up to cup her breast, fingers closing around her hard nipple. His lips came down to touch her neck, and her head rolled back to lean against him.

“Fuck me, Sir. Fuck me in full view of everyone.”

He did, moving into her steadily and slowly, not hammering into her, but taking the time for her body to feel every sensation – and giving a better show to anyone who could be looking up. Slowly his tempo increased, driving her crazy with the feeling. The music ended, and as it did so, the television in the other room clicked on.

Vaguely she heard the announcer say that the ball drop would happen after they returned from commercial. She paid no attention to the stupid advertisement, focusing instead on how it felt as Sir fucked her. He was putting more force into it now, and her hands were pressed against the glass, the cold smooth surface pressed against her chest, her thighs, her face.

Sir fucked her harder and she heard the countdown begin. “10… 9…” His thrusts were coming rapid-fire now, and she could tell that he wasn’t far from orgasm. Neither was she. “8… 7…” She moaned as a particularly deep thrust sent a micro-orgasm through her. Sir’s hand left her hip to dip between her legs, finding the sensitive nub of her clit. His fingers moved in time, and she felt herself begin to tighten around his shaft.

“Six… Five… I’m going to fill you up… Two…”

“ONE!” she cried out as she felt her orgasm crest, pleasure washing over her. She would have collapsed if she hadn’t been pinned to the glass by Sir. His cock pulsed within her, and she felt spurt after spurt of his cum shooting within her.

In front of her, she saw fireworks. Not metaphorical ones from her pleasure, but literal sparks of red, green, blue and white in the sky. She looked down to see a city whose gaze was focused upwards. And while she knew that most of them were looking at the display in the sky, she knew that some of them might just be looking at her, exposed, claimed by her lover. The thought alone sent waves of pleasure through her, mixing with the aftershock of her climax.

“Happy New Year, Pet,” he said as she turned to face him.

“Happy New Year, Sir,” she said, kissing him, feeling his tongue invade her, claiming her the way he had claimed her body. She couldn’t imagine what new perspectives he would teach her over the coming year, but she knew that she couldn’t wait to find out.

About the Author

Broken Unicorn has been a writer since he was a child, starting off writing decidedly non-erotic stories about superheroes. As he got older, he started writing erotica about superheroes, before eventually discovering his kinky side and writing about people who could live in the real world. He lives in the midwest, and is happy to live in a very full house that includes four humans and two dogs. He can be found under the profile Broken_Unicorn https://fetlife.com/users/8765084

“You’re not half the swordsman I am.”

She said it flatly, as if it were an unquestioned fact that he was meant merely to accept without challenging. It was also, in his informed opinion, ridiculous.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You’re not nearly as good as I am. Look at our awards. The results speak for themselves. I’ve won tournament after tournament, you’ve never won a single one.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his short black curls, and then rubbing the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “We’re just going to ignore the fact that you’re usually competing against the same five or six girls, while I’m in fields of thirty or more? I was training here before you ever picked up a saber or a foil, and I taught you everything you know.”

“You taught me everything you know,” she said with a smirk and a toss of her shoulder-length auburn hair. The way she laughed him off infuriated him. He wanted to wrap his hand in that air and drag her to her knees. “And then I perfected it and learned more. I’m better than you, plain and simple.”

It was true that she won more often than not when they had matches in the studio, but he was the teaching assistant. He had never gone full out against her, always instead trying to present learning opportunities. And, he had to admit, he hoped that as long as she was winning, it would put her in a mood where she might be willing to accept a date with him. Not that he had ever worked up the courage to ask.

He had always thought she realized that he had been working to teach, not fighting her to win. Evidently, that was not the case. Part of him wanted to simply point out the error to her. But something about her mocking tone made him angry enough that he just wanted to put her in her place.

“Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?” he asked. “A private bout, just you and me. Here in the studio, after we lock up for the night, with no witnesses.”

“Are you afraid of being beaten with the whole class here?” she countered with a smirk. “Everyone here has seen me beat you before.”

“I’m not afraid at all. But I don’t think you’re going to want to have the kind of match I have in mind with anyone else here.”

“What is it you have in mind then?”

“Strip fencing. Each point makes the loser take off a piece of clothing.”

Her eyes widened. He couldn’t possibly be serious about this, could he? But she wasn’t willing to back down.

“And the stakes?”

“Name them,” he replied. “I’ll take stripping you bare as plenty of payment. Along with you no longer making such ridiculous claims about being better than me.”

“Fine. And when I beat you, and you’re sitting there naked, I want pictures and a promise that you’ll tell the Maestro that I should be his new teaching assistant.”

“Done.”

She hesitated. He was far too confident for her liking, and he agreed far too readily. But she wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass. “Tomorrow? That’ll be Saturday. And the studio closes at 7. I’ll be here at 9?” She knew that he had keys and could let them in.

“I’ll see you at 9 o’clock.”

* * *

The next night, she arrived at the studio, fencing gear in hand. She had her favorite rapier, her mask, gloves, and groin protection in a duffle bag. She looked down at what she was wearing. A flannel shirt over a t-shirt, workout pants, athletic shoes, and of course, under that, a sensible pair of panties and a sports bra. She figured it likely that he would be down at least two articles of clothing, since he was unlikely to be wearing two shirts, and of course, had one less piece of underwear to lose.

Not that she planned on losing anything. She knew all of his tricks by now, and all of the openings he tended to leave open. She was confident that she would get him down to his boxers without losing anything of her own, at which point he would call off the bout. And then she would be the Maestro’s new assistant, which would give her plenty of time alone with the older British man with which she could try to seduce him. She had wanted the Maestro since her very first class, but he had never paid any attention to her – except for when she would come back from a tournament with another win.

But first? She had to get rid of Him. The older student had taught her plenty, and sure, he was kind of cute in his own way, but she wanted to be the Maestro’s assistant. So, he had to go.

For his part, he had been waiting for her ever since the last students had left two hours ago. He had two rapiers ready with padded tips, although he fully expected her to want to use her own sword. He had been doing some light calisthenics, trying to keep warmed up and loose without exhausting himself. He had a plan for exactly how to play this out, and he wanted everything to be perfect.

He went to the door right at 9:00, and saw her standing there, gear in hand. He unlocked the door, and opened it with a flourish. “I’m glad you came.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she answered. “What do you have in mind for the ground rules?”

“Typical rules for targeting – no going for the other person’s crotch. A thrust or draw cut will count as a touch. Both socks count as one article of clothing, same with shoes. Jewelry and watches don’t count as clothes. Neither does your cup – it goes with the underwear. Groin protection obviously has to go last, but otherwise, the person who lost the point can choose what to remove.” He looked her up and down, noticing her flannel shirt over her tee, unlike the simple shirt he was wearing. “I guess that gives you a two item advantage over me,” he said while shrugging.

“I can lose the shirt if you think it’s unfair,” she said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be willing to admit he wanted to reduce her advantage.

“No, that’s fine. Keep the shirt – at least until I make you lose it.”

From the arrogance in his response, she was really looking forward to humiliating him. “Alright. Let’s go.”

With no further words, they put on their masks and gloves, and grabbed their rapiers. The stood, facing each other and saluted, before giving a slight bow.

“Begin,” he said.

They slowly started circling one another, she keeping her rapier tip towards him, while he left his arms akimbo. A few thrusts from her were used to to probe his defenses, and she noted that he was relying entirely on using his left hand to swat away her rapier instead of bringing his own blade into play. The smug bastard was toying with her. Well, she knew how to handle that. A quick thrust towards his mask proved to be a feint, and as he moved to push her blade aside, her point dipped low under her arm, and she quickly placed her blade and pulled back, cutting against his ribs.

“My point,” she said under her mask, starting to feel the sweat build up. He was quick on his feet, and while the first point went to her easily enough, he was moving around the room enough that she was already starting to perspire. Was it hotter than normal in the studio?

He nodded in concession and stepped back. She looked on, expecting to see him reach down to remove his shoes, and was surprised when he reached down to his waist, grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his mask.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice full of surprise.

“Removing my first article of clothing, per the rules,” he said, smirking beneath his mask. “We never set rules for what order the loser has to remove their clothing – just that it was their choice, and groin protection would be last.”

“Right, but I figured…”

“You figured wrong. Are you ready to go again?”

She nodded, even as she looked him over. He looked better without a shirt than she had expected. He was in decent shape, even if he had the slightest bit of a belly. His pecs and arms had nice definition, and he was hairier than she had guessed, but his chest hair was still not too thick. Just the way she liked her men. If the stakes weren’t what they were, she wouldn’t mind admiring his bare chest longer. But she mentally shook her head, focusing on her objective.

The next pass went similar, although now he was keeping his blade up and engaged with hers. He was clearly making an effort to guard his chest, because blunted tips or not, a thrust to bare flesh would hurt, and a draw cut would sting. She took advantage of his focus, making only the barest of feints against his chest before making a quick reversal and thrusting straight into the face of his mask.

“Second point is mine too,” she laughed as she stepped back. “Are you sure you don’t want to just give up?” He wasn’t even giving up limbs – if this was a tournament, both of her hits would have been “kills,” winning the bout outright.

Under his mask, he chuckled. Things were working exactly as he expected. “Not at all,” he said as he stepped back. “Beginners luck.” He reached down, and before she could say anything, grabbed the waistband of his pants and shucked them down his legs, leaving him in only a cup and groin protector, and his socks and shoes. She noted that he wasn’t even wearing boxers or briefs under the athletic supporter, and from her angle she could see a flash of bare ass cheek.

“But… but…” she stammered. “Your shoes?”

“I’d rather keep those on,” he said, nonplussed. He turned away from her to toss his pants against the wall, and she confirmed that he was, in fact, completely nude under the athletic protector. His butt cheeks were nicely shaped, highlighted by the straps of his protective gear. His legs were nicely muscled, and also coated in a light sheen of body hair.

He turned back to face her, and she was glad that her mask concealed how intently she had been staring. “Are you ready to go again?” he asked as he gave her another salute with his rapier.

“Uhmmm. Yes. Yes, of course,” she said as she returned the salute and adopted a fighting stance.

She wasn’t distracted. She wasn’t staring at his crotch. She absolutely was not letting herself fall into that trap. And yet, as soon as they engaged, he swatted away her rapier blade and thrust into her chest, stabbing right into her left boob, moving faster than she could even notice. He laughed as he stepped back. “I guess that point is mine.”

“Yeah… ouch,” she said as she rubbed her breast, ignoring that she could feel her nipples beginning to get hard. Was she getting turned on from watching him fence her nearly nude? She turned away from him, bending over to unlace her shoes, and he admired her shapely ass through her workout pants. He smiled, and felt himself start to get slightly stiff under his cup, but he turned his thoughts back to the matter at hand before she turned back around to face him, her feet now clad only in a pair of cute, white ankle socks.

“Let’s go,” she said, determined that she wasn’t going to lose another piece of clothing.

She didn’t even bother with a salute before she approached him, her thrusts aimed at his chest, feinting, probing for a weak spot in his defenses. With so much exposed skin, he had to be scared of taking another cut to pretty much anywhere on his body, but he was effortlessly avoiding her attacks, and as her frustration mounted, she completely lost track of his blade. Before she realized it, she felt his rapier against her inner thigh, and then felt him draw it back, scoring a cut.

“I suppose your socks are mine now?” he said, completely failing to conceal the laughter in his voice.

She wanted to stick her tongue out at him, but knew he wouldn’t see it. She had planned to keep her flannel on, but decided to go against his expectations, and quickly peeled it off. She was getting warm in it anyhow, the t-shirt alone would feel better. She ignored that her undershirt was practically sticking to her like a second skin, emphasizing her flat tummy, but more significantly, the full breasts held tight under her sports bra.

Whirling back to face him, she gave a quick salute, and then rushed him, hoping to catch him off guard. A series of feints to his mask gave her the opening she wanted, and she lunged, her long legs sending her forward in a move that should have driven the tip of her blade right into his ribs – a thrust that would have had enough force behind it to leave a nasty bruise even if he had been wearing protective gear.

Or that’s how it should have worked, but her cotton socks slipped against the mat, and she overextended, sliding forward completely off-balance. He almost seemed embarrassed as he brought the tip of his blade down, lightly scoring a touch on her left ass-cheek.

“Point,” he said as he stepped away from her.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to walk away from this match. But pride wouldn’t allow her to do so. She wanted to win. She knew she was better than he was. And she wanted to be the Maestro’s assistant.

Reclaiming what dignity she could, she got back to her feet, reaching down to remove the socks from her sweaty feet. If nothing else, at least the tackiness of her sweat would give her more secure footing, and keep her from having the same kind of opening again.

She stepped back, warily, giving him a salute and then adopting a more defensive stance. She needed to reassess the flow of this fight. She no longer had any “safe” points to lose. Another touch would cost her either her t-shirt or her pants, and while she had her underwear to go after that, she had no desire to be that exposed to him – even if he was prancing around practically naked except for his protective gear and shoes and socks. He could “safely” lose two more points without being any more exposed than he already was. And he didn’t seem to have any shame about being so close to nude.

Not that he had much to be shamed about. If she was going to be completely honest, she was really enjoying the sight – and in any other circumstances, she would enjoy seeing the play of his muscles and the light sheen of sweat on his skin. The way he moved now was so much more fluid and graceful than it ever had been in class, and it made her wonder how he would move in bed…

She shook the cobwebs from her head and began to circle around him, fighting defensively, waiting to see if he would make a mistake and give her an opening. He made several thrusts that were obviously feints, and she ignored them, refusing to be goaded into making an error. A cut at her leg brought her left hand into play, and she swatted at the blade – which suddenly wasn’t there. Faster than her eye could see, he had slipped it under her arm, and then she felt a draw cut right beneath her armpit.

“You’re dead,” he said. “What will it be? Pants or shirt?”

“Augh!” she exclaimed as she weighed her options. Pants were somehow a lot scarier to remove – she felt much more exposed that way. But her t-shirt was long enough that it would still cover her crotch and her ass most of the time. And if he was going to be distracted by the sight of her bare legs, and trying to get a glimpse of her panties, maybe that would give her the opening she needed.

Turning away from him, she reached down to grab the waistband of her workout pants, and she shimmied her way out of them, letting them pool at her feet. She was glad that her mask hid the blush she knew was developing, and hoped that she could pass the flushed skin off as being a result of exertion.

“Nice tattoo,” he commented, referencing the butterfly on the back of her right calf.

She turned back to face him. “Enjoy the look. Because that’s all you’re going to see of it. Or me.”

He chuckled. “Any more ink? Are there surprises there waiting for me under your shirt?”

“You’ll never know,” she said as she once more got into a ready stance. “Come at me.”

She instantly regretted her choice of words, because as soon as she spoke, he was up on her, fighting in close proximity – too close for her to easily maneuver her blade. He was right up inside her reach, and before she could adapt and wrap her blade around him, she felt the cold steel of his blade between her legs, and inevitably the pull back of the cut. The edge of his blade was smooth, but still it stung where he drew it back, and her skin swelled up, angry and red in the wake of his act.

“Your shirt. Now.”

His voice was rigid, like steel, and she felt a dampness between her legs as he ordered her to strip for him. She often was low-key turned on after fighting, but the eroticism of this fight, the sight of his body, and the fact that she was soon going to be exposed to him were all getting her turned on. She was going to need a long session with her favorite vibrating toy when she got back to her apartment. She just was no longer sure if she was going to be thinking about the Maestro – or if she was going to be thinking about him.

She stepped away from him, wanting distance between them, and not to feel the heat radiating from his body. She knew she wouldn’t be able to remove her shirt without also taking off her mask, so she first slipped it off her head. Her hair was sweaty and matted to her head, and her face was flushed. He had never seen her looking sexier, and as she pulled the t-shirt over her head, he delighted in seeing the swell of her breasts trying to escape her navy blue sports bra.

He also noticed that there was the tail of a lizard or a dragon poking out from the bottom part of the bra, and unless he was deeply mistaken, there was the tell-tale sign of a pair of barbells in her nipples, visible through the sports fabric. Looking lower, there was a piercing in her navel as well, and she wore an athletic protector over a pair of sensible light-blue cotton panties. There was nothing “sexy” about the underwear itself, but her legs were long and lightly-muscled, and the view was incredibly alluring.

She glared at him, daring him to speak, and he wisely held his tongue as she replaced her mask.

“You could concede now,” he offered, as she took a fighting stance and stalked towards him.

“No. Chance,” she said as she threw a quick salute at him. He returned it, and before he could get his blade back into an en garde position, she unleashed a flurry of attacks at him, and he felt a sharp pain as the tip of her blade dug into his upper thigh.

He yelped in pain, unprepared for the amount of force she put behind her thrust, and he hopped back, unsure if she was going to make a follow-up attack before they set-up again. Refusing to take his eyes off of her, or to disengage his blade, he held her back at point as he kicked his shoes off.

“You still have nothing else ‘safe’ to lose to me,” he warned. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stop now?”

She shook her head defiantly as she saluted him again. “I’m not stopping until I’ve won and you’re buck-ass nude and humiliated,” she said. “You’re as close to losing as I am.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded as he returned her salute. “Begin.”

This time they were both cautious as they engaged, circling around each other slowly, attacking hesitantly, feinting more often than they attacked, and defenses staying conservative. As they circled, she saw it –  a tiny weakness of his step on that left leg where her thrust bruised his thigh. She advanced on him, and as he retreated back on his left, a slight stagger gave her the opening she wanted and then a quick clean thrust tagged him just below the collarbone on his right side.

“My point,” she declared.

He nodded mutely, reached down and pulled off his socks, tossing them to the side of the room.

“Again.”

Her confidence had returned. She could do this. One more point. It was even worth making a sacrifice play if she needed to – a double-kill would still leave him naked while she was in her panties. He’d get to see her tits, sure. But she would win.

She looked him up and down as they engaged, trying to gauge where the best line of attack would be when she noticed it. Beneath his athletic protector – it was impossible to ignore that it wasn’t quite flush with his skin. He was aroused by this – he was getting hard. And while the cup made it impossible to gauge the size of his erection, it had to be sizable enough to push the protective equipment aside.

That moment of distraction was all he needed though. As she was looking at his package, he made a quick step to the side, sending the tip of his blade right at her chest. Somehow he managed to aim it precisely enough that it went under the strap of her sports bra, and as he drew the cut back, she realized that if his blade had actually been sharp, the strap would have been severed, leaving one breast exposed to his gaze.

“And this point is mine,” he said. The desire and arousal in his voice, even muffled by his mask, was unmistakable. And her own arousal was becoming equally impossible to ignore. Even more so as she struggled to remove the sports bra, and as her breasts bounced free, her nipples were rock-hard, the barbell piercings proudly exposed, a green scaly dragon wrapped around the underside of her right breast.

She took a deep breath as she brought her blade back up. They both knew what this final point meant. They each had only a single item of clothing left to lose. Each of them was breathing hard, and she was the first to move, attacking fiercely, creating a wall of steel that was impossible for him to get past.

Except somehow he did, he was back inside her reach. Almost as if in slow motion, she saw his blade descending towards her outer thigh, and she did the only thing she could think to do, knowing she couldn’t possibly get her own blade back around in time.

She punched him. Hard. Right in the face, the leather of her glove making a harsh sound against the screen of his mask. His head rocked back, and she moved. The blow was against the rules, she knew it, but she also knew that she was going to take this final point, and it would be her blade that made the final cut.

She lunged at him, but he wasn’t there, stepping to the side, grabbing her sword hand with his off hand, and wrapping it around her, pressing himself against her bare back. His blade came up, right under her throat, and he placed it on her, the edge against her skin. Her blade hand was completely under his control and she couldn’t move.

Time stopped, and she was acutely aware of everything in that moment. The heat of his body, the slick sweat of their skin, the prickle of his body hair against her smooth flesh. The bulge of his cup against her buttocks, and the unyielding strength of his arms as he held her.

Slowly he drew the blade against her chest, and she knew she was defeated. He had won. Her grip released from her sword, and she surrendered against his grip. He released her, but she stayed there, motionless.

“Take your prize,” she said in a small voice.

His hands came down to her hips, fingers gently sliding under both the athletic protector and her panties, and he pulled them down past the swell of her thighs. As the garments made their way over her knees, he released them, and they fell the remainder of the way to the floor.

As he stood back up, he pressed himself against her, and she realized that he must have removed his cup, because she felt the hard swell of his cock nestled between the cheeks of her ass. His hands came up, the right one taking her breast in hand, his fingers playing with the hardware in her nipple as the other continued its ascent and pulled her mask from her head.

She turned to face him, defeat visible in her eyes, but his own mask was still in place.

“Take me,” she begged. Her own, smaller hands came up to remove the mask from his face, and when she did so, the eyes that she saw looking at her were kindly, even as they shone with hunger and desire.

“I shall.”

And without another word, they were moving down, her back against the mat, and with one final thrust of his weapon, the match was sealed, although from the triumphant sounds escaping both their throats, it would be difficult to say definitively who had won.

About the Author

Broken Unicorn has been a writer since he was a child, starting off writing decidedly non-erotic stories about superheroes. As he got older, he started writing erotica about superheroes, before eventually discovering his kinky side and writing about people who could live in the real world. He lives in the midwest, and is happy to live in a very full house that includes four humans and two dogs. He can be found under the profile Broken_Unicorn https://fetlife.com/users/8765084

It was black. Sleek and shiny. Semi-realistic in shape – no veins, none of the imperfections of the flesh, but there was a flared out head, a slight curve to the shaft. It was just over seven inches in length, and big enough around that her fingers could almost but not quite wrap all the way around it. It was attached to a harness with two different sets of adjustable straps, and the harness had a small vibrating pad which could be moved around so it would best be pressed against her own sensitive anatomy once she put it on.

She stared at it as if it were alien – foreign. Sir had used plenty of toys on her in the past, and her own collection of vibrators and dildos for use when she wasn’t with him was respectable. She was no stranger to artificial cocks, be they silicone, plastic, or even glass. But this one was different, both because of how it was to be used, and where it was intended to go.

His presence against her back was the only warning she had of his emergence from the bathroom. The heat of his skin radiated out against her, not touching her, not yet, although they were close enough that she could feel the tickle of his chest hair brushing against her shoulder blades. His cock, already semi-hard and heavy, nestled between her buttocks, the sensitive skin and full, fleshy cheeks making a perfect resting place for him.

“You seem intimidated,” he said, his mouth close to her ear. The hairs of his beard tickled her earlobes, and his breath was warm and moist. His hands moved around her, encircling her bare waist, his hands coming to rest on her hips, his fingers just at the edge of her public patch.

“Not… intimidated…” she replied, pressing back against him, closing the slight gap between them so that her back was firmly against his strong chest. She wiggled her hips, grinding her ass against his cock, feeling it twitch and stiffen in response. “It’s just…”

“Just what, Pet?” he asked, gentleness in his tone, but speaking firmly enough that she knew that refusing to answer him was not an option.

“I’m not a switch, Sir. I’ve never wanted to be. I love surrendering to you, knowing you will take care of me, giving you control of how we fuck. I want you to use me, to give my body to you. You can play me like an instrument, I love it.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I can do the same with our positions reversed.”

“Is that what you think is going to happen?” he chuckled. “You think I’m asking you to dominate me?”

“Isn’t it?”

He spun her around to face him, and kissed her before he spoke. The kiss was deep, and passionate, open-mouthed, although his tongue did not emerge to probe her own. But his lips were firm against hers, and she let out a sigh of release as he kissed her, her breasts pressed tight against his chest, her nipples small points of excitement that dug into his pecs, the feel of his cock against her pubes sending a fresh rush of excitement through her. His right hand remained on her hip, but his left reached around to take a firm grip on her ass.

“Am I any less your dominant when I go down on you? When I pleasure you, my tongue exploring the crevices of your sweet pussy? When my lips close on your clit?”

“No.”

“Am I not your dominant when you go down on me, sucking my hard cock into your hot little mouth?”

“Of course not, Sir.”

“What about when you finger my ass as you suck me? Have I stopped being your dominant then?”

“No.”

“What about our friends where the woman is the dominant? Do you think any of them are less the domme just because they’re the ones being fucked?”

She thought to some of their acquaintances and friends. She imagined Mistress Emily naked, her large breasts exposed, her downy pubic hair matted with arousal, and tried to picture her with a man between her legs, her pussy being pounded by a hard cock. She knew several of Emily’s play partners, and they were mostly large men, and quite fit. She knew how much she surrendered when she was being fucked by Sir, and she tried to imagine Mistress Emily doing the same.

The image wouldn’t come. The only way she could make the image fit in her head was for Emily to still be in complete control, even with a much larger, much physically stronger man pounding between her thighs.

“No, Sir,” she answered. “I guess I can’t.”

“Then why do you think I’m surrendering any of my control to you, just because I want you to fuck me?”

“I…. I don’t know. I just do?” She frowned, biting her lip in consternation. “Why do you want me to fuck you?”

“Because I do.”

“That’s not much of an answer…”

“And I shouldn’t need to give you more of one than that. But since you don’t normally ask these kind of questions, I’ll indulge you. I want you to fuck me because I’m bisexual and I enjoy the feeling of being fucked in my ass. You enjoy anal, don’t you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Ok. Same thing here. Sometimes that’s what I’m in the mood for. And right now I’m not sleeping with any men, and I don’t really feel like going out and finding one just to get fucked. For the time being, you’re the only person I’m interested in fucking – or being fucked by. Does that make sense?”

“I suppose so.”

“Listen,” he said, giving her a brief kiss. “I may be your Sir, but you know I’m not going to make you do something you’re unwilling to try. If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

She gave him a smile. This was why she loved him, why she chose him to submit to. And with that in mind, why she responded as she did.

“Thank you, Sir. I want to make you feel good, and do what you want me to. But you may need to guide me.”

“Happily,” he answered as he gave her another kiss. “Now, let’s get you strapped in.”

Sir set to work, working the adjustable straps around her hips and under her ass. She may never have worn such a harness before, but he clearly had experience with them. Someday she would have to ask him about that. In moments the harness was in place, and the artificial cock jutted out proudly from her pubic hair. The lower set of straps pressed the vibrating pad in contact with her clit, and Sir flicked it on to its lowest setting. The vibrations sent mild waves of pleasure through her as it pulsed on and off.

Sir stepped back from her to admire his handiwork. Her shoulder-length red hair hung wildly around her head, and her modest breasts were firm and high on her chest, perfect on her slender frame. She was a vision of feminine sexuality, all the way down to the place between her legs, where the jet-black dildo emerged. The contrast was delicious, and the sight of her made him stiffen.

He moved away from her, laying back on the bed, and reaching for the tube of lubricant he had put on the nightstand. He set it by him as he beckoned to her, spreading his legs as he did so.

“First, prepare me. Suck my cock and ready my ass for you.”

She crawled across the bed to him, the dildo dangling between her legs as she did so. She nuzzled her face between his muscular thighs, inhaling the musky scent of his sex as she extended her tongue and slowly licked him from the base of his cock, where it met his balls, all the way up to the tip.

As he let out a soft sigh of contentment, she closed her lips over the head of his cock, sucking the first several issues into her mouth, her tongue swirling around him as she did so. Sir moaned his encouragement as she cradled his balls in one hand before continuing to move her hand between his legs, gently teasing his anal opening with one manicured finger as her other hand reached for the lube.

She began to bob her head up and down on his shaft, savoring the taste of him and the feel of his cock in her mouth as she poured a generous amount of the slippery gel into her hand and began to work her index finger into his ass. He was tight, but his ass opened up, welcoming her probing fingers as she started to work a second into him, loosening him up and spreading him open.

Sir groaned with pleasure, savoring the dual sensations of her mouth pleasuring his manhood as she fingered his rear passage. She had to admit that she was enjoying the experience of giving pleasure to her Sir. The vibrations against her clit made the experience physically pleasurable as well, but she was getting more from the mental enjoyment of seeing him receiving pleasure from her mouth and fingers.

Fingers laced themselves in her hair from above, and she felt Sir gently pull her head back, off of his cock.

“Am I doing something wrong, Sir?” she asked, her voice dripping with innocent sweetness, curling the fingers still within his ass and stroking his prostrate.

“Not at all, Pet,” he said, smiling down at her. “But now it is time for you to fuck me.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said as she sat back on her knees. The artificial cock bobbed in front of her, jostling as she did so. She poured another generous glob of lube onto her hands and began to grease up her “cock.”

Sir spread his legs wider, reaching down and grabbing his legs under the knees as he held himself open.

“Start slowly,” he ordered. “But firm. Give me that cock.”

She inched forward on her knees until the head of the strap-on was pressed against his anal passage, still gaping slightly open from where she had fingered him. Unsure of exactly how best to do so, she thrust forward with a shift of her hips, the tip of the dildo sliding against his asshole, then slipping to the side.

“Take it in your hand,” Sir said. “Aim it, and try again.”

She did so, enjoying the feel of the slippery shaft in her fingers. For a moment she tried to imagine that the cock she was holding really was hers. That it wasn’t a dildo attached to her by nylon strapping, but that it was her own flesh and blood. The thought made her giggle inwardly even as she positioned the strap on against his opening again, and using her fingers to guide it in, she pressed forward with her hips, sinking the flared head past his opening, and then pushing another inch into him.

“Ughhh,” Sir exclaimed, a sound that mixed both pain and pleasure. “Slower, pet. Give me time to adjust.”

“Sorry, Sir,” she said, pulling back until the strap-on was nearly withdrawn. “Should I try again?”

“Yes, just… slower.”

Carefully she began to thrust forward again, trying not to move too fast and push too much into him at once. Sir closed his eyes, and moaned in pleasure, his own cock twitching as hers sank into him. Trying to remember how she preferred to be fucked when Sir took her ass, she withdraw partially and then pushed in again, slightly deeper this time.

“Yes,” Sir hissed in pleasure. “That’s the way. Keep doing that. Slowly, but fill me. Bury your cock in my ass.”

She continued to repeat these motions, fucking him slowly, feeding more of the strap-on into his ass, watching the expression of pained pleasure on Sir’s face. “Is that what I look like when he’s fucking me?” she wondered.

Finally, she felt the pressure of Sir’s body against hers as she completely sank the cock into him, his flesh pressed against her, increasing the friction of the vibrating patch pressed against her clit. Sir opened his eyes, looking up at her. He released his grip behind his knees and wrapped his legs around her, bringing his right hand up to play with her tits.

“That’s perfect, Pet,” he said, wiggling his hips to bring her in deeper. “Now, fuck me.”

She withdrew the strap-on halfway, and then pushed back into him, noting that it was much easier this time. She couldn’t deny the eroticism of the sight of the artificial shaft entering him, sliding under his balls as it invaded his ass. His cock was hard – as hard as she had ever seen it, and the head glistened with his precum

“That’s from me. That’s from the pleasure he’s getting from me fucking him,” she thought.

She wrapped her left hand around his cock, stroking up and down the shaft as she slowly fucked him.

“Ugggghhhhh,” he groaned. “Yes. That. Keep doing that. But fuck me harder. I’m no innocent virgin. Fuck me hard and fast, just as you like me to fuck you.”

She smiled and began to speed up, thrusting in and out of him with enough speed and force that her breasts bounced on her chest. Her hand moved up and down his shaft in time.

Even with the vibrations against her clit, this wasn’t doing much for her physically, but she couldn’t ignore how excited and turned on she was getting from seeing Sir in the throes of passion. Her cunt was dripping with arousal, and her nipples felt tight enough to burst.

“I need more,” Sir groaned. “Fuck me from behind.”

She withdrew as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. His ass gaped open at her as she moved back into position behind him. She aimed the strap-on and pushed back into him, sinking all the way in with a single stroke.

“Yesssss,” he said. “Now fuck me.”

She gripped him by hips. “Yes, Sir. If you insist.”

With that, she began to hammer into him, heedless of how deep she went, how hard she thrust, how fast, but just putting everything she could into fucking him like a machine – like a beast – like she wanted him to fuck her. Her arousal grew with each moan that escaped his lips, with each cry of “Yes,” that he gave out. She was enflamed, she wanted his cock in her more than she could say. Unable to quench the passion within her, she poured her desire into her fucking of him.

“Oh god, oh… fuck… yes,” Sir groaned into his pillow. His hand reached down between his legs, and she could see him grab his cock and stroke it. “I am going to cum, Pet. Soon. Ugh…. I’ll give you the choice… do I come from you fucking me? Or do I fuck you?”

She hesitated, pausing her thrusts. She wanted him. Badly. Her pussy was practically begging to be filled. And yet… the temptation to see him cum in this position – with her cock buried inside him – she couldn’t resist.

“Cum for me, Sir. Cum as I fuck you.”

Her thrusts resumed, and she could feel the frantic motion of his hand stroking himself as she fucked him. Soft groans and moans escaped his throat, and before too long, she felt him stiffen as he released a primal scream. She couldn’t see his hands or his cock from her angle, but she could see his arm stop moving, and realized that he must have spilled his seed across the bedspread beneath them.

Slowly, she withdrew the strap-on from him, watching as his ass gaped open. Once she was out of him, he collapsed forward, rolling to his side to avoid laying in his own semen. She fumbled with the straps, removing the harness before sliding next to him, curling into him, her hand moving to gently play with his still semi-erect cock.

“Thank you, Pet. That was wonderful. Exactly what I wanted.”

She smiled into him, noticing that his cock was not losing its stiffness. “You’re welcome, Sir.”

“If you keep that up, I’m going to need to fuck you soon,” he warned.

She grinned, knowing he couldn’t see her mouth as her face remained buried in his chest. But she didn’t stop her movements, and she felt him harden again.

About the Author

Broken Unicorn has been a writer since he was a child, starting off writing decidedly non-erotic stories about superheroes. As he got older, he started writing erotica about superheroes, before eventually discovering his kinky side and writing about people who could live in the real world. He lives in the midwest, and is happy to live in a very full house that includes four humans and two dogs. He can be found under the profile Broken_Unicorn https://fetlife.com/users/8765084