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Message-ID: <41661asstr$1049541003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: shattered_mind@nospam.hotmail.com (Naive)
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 5 Apr 2003 09:00:32 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Perspective (F/M, bd, Fdom, Rom, oral)
Date: Sat,  5 Apr 2003 06:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


A short piece of fiction that got stuck in my head ... it's out now ;)
Hope you enjoy!

----------------------------
(c) 2003 copyright by SJTJ (a.k.a. Naive)
Copyright information: This story is the sole property of SJTJ (a.k.a. Naive). 
No one has the right to alter, distribute, or sell this story with out my 
written permission. I do hear by give the right to give or display this story 
to anyone who wants it as long as it's free of charge. Changes and follow-up 
stories should have my permission. Any grammatical or spelling changes are 
permissible as long as it does not alter the concept.
----------------------------
This story is intended for mature audiences. You must be 18 or older to read 
this story. This story contains adult situations and sexual content. If 
subject matter of this type offends please DO NOT read any further. Thank you.
----------------------------

***************
  Perspective
  by Naive(c)  <shattered_mind@nospam.hotmail.com>
***************

        She watched on the closed circuit TV as he twisted and fidgeted in his 
bonds. His body slick with sweat. Tan, naked, and delectably erotic. A sigh 
rippled through her, quivering all the way down to her sex, as she watched his 
taught muscles undulate under the strain of confinement. He didn't know she 
could see him. Watch every flex and gyration. He didn't know she could hear 
him. Every moan, every frustrated grunt, every uncomfortably hissed sigh.

        This was the first time she'd let him into her secret life. Their 
first attempt to be something more than just casual lovers.

        Angela had a dark side: a passion for bondage and submission. But, she 
didn't just want it - it was a need. A driving force in her life. A force 
usually responsible for driving the men she cared about away from her. She 
wasn't a Domme, at least she didn't think of herself that way. She didn't want 
a submissive. She just needed more from her man. Needed him to be more, to 
prove himself to her, to suffer for her.

        She had feelings for Alex. He was a brave man. She knew that. And, he 
trusted her.

        He allowed her to cut away his modesty, one piece of cloth at a time, 
with a knife; sixteen inches of highly polished steel, razor sharp. Allowed 
his freedom to be bound, hand and foot, with leather manacles, to a 
metal-framed bed in a vacant empty room. Let her silence him with a glossy red 
ball of plastic, roughly shoved into his mouth, and tightly strapped to the 
back of his head. Allowed her to deafen him with wax earplugs, leaving him his 
pulse alone for comfort. And last but not least, allowed her to blind him, a 
hard leather mask sealing away even the faintest traces of light.

        This alone was not enough though. He had to suffer for her. Most men 
ran when she told them what she wanted next, but not Alex. He looked into her 
eyes and saw her. Saw her need. Then just nodded: resigned to fulfilling his 
quest for her heart.

        The alligator clips were the hardest for him. She could tell by the 
way he moved. His struggle against his own instincts to drop the red sponge 
ball crushed tightly in his grip, his safeword. For that alone she could love 
him. She knew how sensitive his nipples were, that's why she'd chosen her 
wickedest set. Then came the clothespins attached to the underside of his 
rigid cock. A row of pain, angling from his in sensed manhood.

        To her he was a work of art, a piece of voyeuristic magnificence, an 
esoteric itch in the depths of her hot pulsing womb. His pain, his strength, 
and his love were there for her. They belonged to her.

        Languidly she slid her hand down beneath her skirt, and let her 
fingers play tenderly over the wet spot in her panties. Her other lightly 
swirling the brandy in her glass before taking a sip. Kicking off her heels 
and placing her brandy down, she slid her panties off her long slender well 
formed legs. Her eyes always fixed on the set. Stretching she thought of how 
wonderful the night had turned out. Dinner, dancing, and Alex tied down for 
her pleasure.

        Her fingers again worked their way down to her hungry loins. 
Skillfully nudging her towards her inevitable climax. Alex struggled even 
harder in his bonds, as if he could sense her impending orgasm. His member 
waving and swishing from side to side like her eager fingers. A sob broke from 
him and like lightning it burned through her very soul; appeasing that dark 
goddess with the euphoric rush of breaking bliss.

        It took a few moments for the convulsions to stop ravaging her. For 
her to clear away the ragged emotional high. Breathing in deeply, her breasts 
heaving, she felt sweaty and trapped under her lacy bra and button down 
blouse. Slipping from them and her leather skirt she felt free and marveled at 
her own nakedness in the stand mirror. Tossing her long red hair over her 
shoulder she ran her hands over her breasts and down her hips. It was time.

        On bare feet, wearing nothing, Angela walked down the hall to the room 
holding Alex. His musky scent hit her like an anvil, as she pulled open the 
door, making her juices flow even more. His body was a magnet her hands could 
not resist. And, at her touch Alex tried to calm himself, tried to be strong 
for her, but the pain and loneliness were engulfing him.

        Gently as she could, Angela started to remove the clothespins, sending 
bursts of crackling agony throughout his body. One by excruciating one, she 
took them from him, tenderly rubbing life back into his deprived flesh. When 
the last one was gone, she couldn't help herself, taking all of him into her 
warm wet mouth, sucking the pre-cum and sweat from him. Alex moaning through 
his gag thrust deep into her awaiting mouth, aching for some release from his 
captivity, from his pain. But, Angela just pulled away with one last tickle of 
her tongue. She had one more task, one more agony for him to survive.

        With careful fingers she turned the releases on the alligator clips, 
then with one quick graceful motion pulled them free. Alex's reaction was 
spectacular. The wail that burst forth through his gag was so powerful it made 
her knees quake as another orgasm flared through her. Kneeling down beside 
him, knees weak, Angela soothingly massaged his chest. Sobbing quiet, unseen 
tears, Alex struggled against the pain, just barely holding back his bladder 
from releasing, thanks to his now flagging hard-on.

        Gliding down his chest Angela clutched his manhood, holding it there 
on the brink of descent. Using her tongue and expert hands she brought life 
back to his wilting flower. And like a bee she worked busily probing and 
digging for his seed. At last her efforts paid in full as Alex, muscles 
trembling, injected his hot cum down her waiting throat. The last few pulses 
left him lying there exhausted.

        Pulling his bonds free and unsnapping the ball gag she helped him sit 
up, leaning against her, his hot flesh touching hers. Carefully Alex removed 
the gag, blindfold, and earplugs finally starting to feel himself again. 
Looking into Angela's eyes he could see the apprehension, the tension, but he 
decided to let her speak first.

        "You were wonderful." She said with a smile. "Do you think you could 
do this again?"

        "Oh God, please not tonight." He sighed.

        "No," she said overjoyed, "not tonight." But she knew what those words 
meant. He had accepted her. Hugging him close she held back the tears; she'd 
finally found the one. "Lets go to bed." She said helping Alex to his feet. 
She knew that sex was out for tonight but in the morning she would show him 
the pleasures she could also give. She would ride him until he knew that he 
now belonged to her.

The End

Naive
-------------------------------------------
  ~ Sometimes to look into the eyes of a
    stranger is to see yourself looking
    back.
    -- Naive ~
-------------------------------------------
       http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/naive/www/
-------------------------------------------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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