BDSM Erotica
"Fantasy 13 - Clara's Story" a sex story by Kay Jaybee
I looked at Ann with a mixture of horror and lust, and if I'm honest, a touch of envy. Not that I wanted to swap places exactly, I just didn't understand why Michael had forbidden me to take part, after all, Ann was being punished, not me. I watched right up until a big powerful looking woman began to slide herself onto Ann's dildo gag.
I would have liked to stay watching, but a large clammy hand placed itself on my shoulder. It was the owner of "Discreet". His eyes appraised me hungrily before he tugged at my arm, gesturing for me to follow him. I glanced at Michael. I really didn't want to go anywhere. I wanted to stay with Ann. I wanted to be there when it was over so I could kiss her better. The sight of her had definitely turned me on, but the thought of going with the slightly sweaty man that held my arm, was not so appealing.
Michael tore his eyes away from Ann and laughed at the expression on my face. "Sorry Clara, I forgot to tell you. I owe Claude some favours. I need you to pay them off."
This was not like Michael. We had been lent out to people sure, but never out of his sight; never without him getting some voyeuristic kicks from the experience. The words "Fantasy 13" hung at the back of my mind. Perhaps it wasn't just aimed at Ann after all.
Claude slipped his hand down to mine and began to weave me through the crowds of people until we reached a room at the very back of the club. He shut the door behind us and I immediately felt cold.
I was uneasy. I had never liked this man and didn't find him attractive, but I could still picture Ann clearly; her arms and legs would be beginning to ache by now. I could imagine how much she longed to be able to sink to the floor and simply engulf one of the cocks that teased her assaulted body.
I looked around me. The room was unbelievably quiet compared to the main hall. In its centre was an oak table long enough to sit at least eight people, although only four chairs were currently positioned around it.
Along the side of one wall was a slim side table which held a half dozen or so candles, providing the rooms only light. They flickered in the slight breeze afforded by the room's air conditioning and highlighted the collection of buffet food and a camera laid out ready for the evening ahead. I already began to get the idea. Michael had used me as a table cloth many times before; perhaps I was wrong to be uneasy. This might yet prove to be a pleasant interlude whilst I waited for Michael to get his rocks off next door.
I almost pre-empted Claude when he ordered me to sit on the edge of the table. He nodded approvingly as I obeyed, before he unzipped first my right and then my left boot, withdrawing the whip I kept there, and ran it reverently through his fingers. I kept my eyes fixed on his face rather than betray my apprehension and mark the movements of my weapon.
He traced the leather tab against my covered chest and stocking tops before laying it carefully on the side table. I was more aware than ever of my naked pussy, and the fact that so far it had been ignored.
His thick fingers reached around me and unhooked my bra. It had become stiff, its PVC cups cracking slightly as my tits were freed. With amazing restraint, which judging by the bulge in his trousers was a challenge for him to maintain, he lent forward and gave each nipple a single kiss.
He grinned at my shocked expression. I hadn't expected such a man to be so tender and wake my body back up with two such tiny kisses. He instructed me to lie back on the wood. I shuffled my bum to about half way down the table and lay still awaiting the inevitable hand restraints.
They didn't come. He pulled my arms up over my head, and told me that he trusted me to understand the importance of not moving them. Then he took hold of my legs and spread them as wide as the table would allow, before threading a long ribbon around each knee. Whenever I felt the ribbon pull I was instructed to move my leg in the required direction. Otherwise I was to stay perfectly still, whatever happened.
Then Claude left the room. The table already felt sticky beneath my back and my shoulder blades were aching; but I had been in Michael's service a long time and had learned to distract myself from my own discomfort for considerable periods. Just as I was beginning to feel forgotten and my body had relaxed a little I heard a babble of voices from outside the room.
It was a while before I saw any of their faces, but I was aware that three new people had entered the room with Claude. They hardly paid me any attention at first, as they gathered what they wanted from the buffet table.
Claude, quicker to fill his plate than the others, picked up two candles and placed them each side of my head, then he took two more and placed them just below chest height. I could feel their glow begin to warm my skin as the shadows of the room danced against my flesh. Then, on an indication from Claude, the others sat around the table.
To begin with it was as if I simply wasn't there; or at best I was an elaborate table decoration. Claude passed glasses of red wine around and the group of four began to relax into their food and easy conversation. They had obviously been enjoying the activities in the club. They exchanged opinions on the women tied to the rings along the sides of the hall waiting either to be seen to, or for their seeing to, to end. They talked about the advantages of paddles over whips; of the man who had apparently stationed himself next to the bar with nothing on but high heels and a very erect dick; and then the amazing spectacle that Michael was providing. Ann. I listened more carefully, feeling my body responding as they discussed my partner's debasement.
"She's holding up remarkably well." The woman on the left side of my head was speaking, "I must admit I was impressed." I felt pride for Ann spread through me.
"Yes indeed," Claude joined in. "When Michael first explained what he had in mind I wasn't at all sure. Although," he reached out and stroked my neck, "the payment for allowing him centre-stage should be well worth it."
Claude continued, addressing the whole room, "I feel I should introduce you all to our project for this evening." My body had already stiffened slightly at the word "payment." The word "project" made me uneasier still; but I tried hard to relax; this was my job after all. "This is Clara. As you are all well aware, she belongs to Michael, so she is a professional in her chosen field." He got up and began replenishing everyone's glasses, before placing a couple of drops of wine on my lips, making me realise how dry my throat was. "I am sure she will not let either us or herself down."
There was a pause. I felt four pairs of eyes assessing me, before Claude announced, "You all know what is required of you. Please begin."
There was an instant scraping back of chairs, and I could see the people in the room better for the first time. They all looked lean, professional and like they could easily afford whatever Claude had charged them to take part in the evening ahead.
Claude leaned over me and whispered, "Don't let Michael down honey. He's looking forward to watching this later." He gestured to the door, where some sort of digital recorder had miraculously appeared. Of course; he wouldn't want to miss this.
The woman that stood next to my head, who was semi shrouded in the candle light, seemed to have a clear idea of what she intended to do. With calm certainty she picked up the candle nearest her, and then gestured to her colleagues to do the same. It felt darker still on the table as the candles were all lifted above me, placing the room deeper into shadow. I couldn't help thinking that Michael wouldn't be able to see much on the tape.
I could feel the ribbons around my knees tighten slightly as the couple next to my legs pulled them, forcing my legs wider still.
Claude and his counterpart at my head both moved their candles closer to my body. I held my breath as the heat got nearer to my nipples, which thanks to an expert flick from Claude, were standing erect before them.
I tried to lift my head, but Claude shot me a "don't you dare move" look and I sank back against the table. My tits quickly felt sore and I was afraid they'd start to cook, when suddenly it was gone, and the searing heat was replaced by a soft female mouth full of red wine, which was slowly dribbled all over my left breast. Claude must have approved as he quickly followed suit. I almost forgot my previous discomfort as I concentrated on the delicious feelings their tongues were producing as they gently licked up the drips of wine.
It was a few seconds before I realised that a new source of heat was being used to examine me. My widened pussy was now experiencing the same treatment as my chest had done, but this time the light was being used to observe my reactions. "Fuck, she's so damn horny." The unknown man at my feet stroked a finger against my neatly shaved triangle, producing a shiver through my body despite the proximity of the candle. "You were right Claude, the liquid is just running out of her," he laughed. "Some like it hot I guess."
He took his hand away and addressed his companion, "Are you still hungry?"
"A little", the second females" voice was sharp, giving the impression that it would be unwise to argue with her. "I think perhaps I'll have a bread stick with my wine; possibly with dip."
I have no idea what dip she smeared across the end of her breadstick, but I knew what she was going to do with it. My bum rose off the table as she slid the freezing cold dip up inside me. If they hadn't both pulled hard on the ribbons then I would probably have leapt higher than I did, especially as I was still painfully aware of how close the man's candle was to my now occupied opening.
The breadstick was frustratingly narrow and as the woman expertly twirled it around inside me I found myself having to stop myself begging to be filled by something more substantial. My tits were still being licked and my mind was full of pictures of Ann and how she must be feeling. It was already getting too much, and as the breadstick was pulled out and a mouth began eating the dip back out of me, the sighs and moans which Id been stifling escaped. I shrieked, my bucking body coming against the hard surface beneath me.
Sushi by Bryan Adams
"Oh dear Clara." Claude sounded grave, "I realise I didn't forbid you to come, but I had assumed you'd have more staying power than that. He picked up the whip he'd taken from my boot earlier, and this time I watched him trail it through his fingers. "Volunteer?"
The lady who had been feasting on me stood up and I saw her face properly for the first time. Dark skinned with a ferociously short bob, she was exquisite, but everything about her was sharp and strict. As she took the whip from Claude I tried to sink further into the table.
"Perhaps you would all be so good as to pick up a candle again", I watched her, half terrified, half fascinated. "I think one over each of those beautiful tits and one over her face." She looked directly at my face. "Look Clara, the wax is beginning to melt quite quickly now, isn't it?"
Claude held his right hand before my eyes so I could observe how the candle sticks had been designed. Each held its candle securely, with the melted wax collecting in a small tray around its girth. What I now noticed, was that a small section of the tray had been cut away, so that the excess wax would drip out, avoiding the hand of the holder, but hitting whatever was beneath. Me.
My heart began to beat faster as she spoke "If you can keep still then I'm sure all will be fine. If you can't then you may just find you've been booked in for a hot wax."
I closed my eyes and took some deep breaths, only to snap them open again as my own whip cracked against the top of my stockings. Despite my best intentions, my leg twisted and was instantly yanked back into position by the ribbon.
"I think I said still." She spoke calmly as she gestured to Claude, who tipped his candle to a slight angle, not enough for anything to happen, but enough to make me want to stay as still as possible.
My breath snagged in my throat as the whip hit my other leg. I didn't move as I felt the pain shoot through my leg. Then it smacked my left arm, my right arm, my thigh. Each time it hit four sets of eager eyes waited to act, each hoping I'd fail and move again.
"You were right Claude", the dominatrix woman paused "she is a professional. I wonder though..." She trailed the whip over my mouth as she continued, "what the reaction would be if her concentration was to be disturbed?"
Her partner picked up a piece of celery from the buffet table and showed it to her and then me. "Excellent, now, shall we begin again?" Even as she spoke the whip connected against my stomach, as the heat from the candles was brought ever closer and the almost ice cold stick of celery was slowly edged up inside my slick pussy.
I yelled, but managed to keep still, clenching my fists against the bizarre mixture of pain, need and anticipation. The blows became harder, quicker, yet I remained still; right up until the stick of celery, which had been firmly wedged within me, was pulled out.
My hips arched with the loss, and my cry was drowned out by the shrieks of delight from Claude and his compatriots, as he tipped his candle and a small trickle of wax fell. It felt as if everything was happening in slow motion. I watched the droplet of hot cream get nearer and nearer to my right cheek. I howled as it hit my face, singeing my skin before setting into a hard tight spot.
After that I simply couldn't keep still. Each time the whip connected the edible dildo was pushed up or pulled out of me, and soon wax was being poured all over my body. As the first drops hit my nipples, tears began to stream down my spotted face, the wax forming hard caps around my tips. The flames that flickered close to me in the dark became all I could see through my torture.
It took a few seconds for me to register that it had all stopped.
On a single word from Claude they had all put down their candles and stood back. Claude grabbed the camera and began to photograph me as I lay there. My body had wax everywhere except between my legs and I ached all over.
It had obviously all been too much for Claude's counterparts, and they began to take out their frustrations on each other. I was aware of a threesome starting in the corner of the room, but paid little attention to it.
Claude put down the camera and swiftly stripped bare before climbing astride me, pushing his blessedly thick cock inside. Groaning with delight, he sat there, still, impaling me, before using a candle to highlight each blob of wax that had set against my flesh, and peeling them off. I moaned softly as he worked, especially when he freed my tits from their hard guardians, kissing them better with his tongue.
The orgasm, which had been brimming on and off between the pain, began to approach me with frightening pace. As he pulled the final wax scab off my face, Claude began to move himself slowly inside me. I tightened my muscles around him, and, just as I felt a shout of release build up in my throat, he tipped his candle right up, and a flood of hot liquid wax poured all over my pussy hairs.
My screams were combined with an increase in his thrusts and I came in a rush of exquisite pain, which was nothing compared to the agony of him removing the set wax a while later.
The others had gone. It was quiet outside in the hall as Claude gave me a drink of water. I gulped it thankfully, shivering from the shock of the evening and the sensation of sitting up. He passed a cloak around my shoulders, hiding the wax stains that pitted my skin from the world.
There was a knock on the door. Michael came in. "Well Claude? Did she fulfil my part of the bargain for you?"
"More than I could have hoped for." Claude smiled as he passed the evenings recording to Michael. "Fantasy 13, part two complete."
Michael turned to me. "Go to Ann. She needs you."
I left them to their discussions and went to find my partner.
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Copyright February 2007, Kay Jaybee
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.
Originally Published February 2007: Winter Heat