Black & White

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Short story of classy S&M.
1.8k words
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"So tell me." He looked at her from across the bottle of champagne and bowl of strawberries sitting on the hotel penthouse table, undoing his bow-tie. "Do you like kink?"

She lulled her head from side to side, clearly a bit tipsy, looking up at the ceiling. Her hair brushed her bare shoulders above her gown, and she liked the way it felt.

She lowered her head to meet his eyes.

"You, sir," she said, looking at him with a devilish grin, "have a dirty mind."

She pulled her hair behind one ear and threw her head back, exposing a beautifully dainty ear, adorned with a simple diamond stud.

"Everyone at the club warned me about you, you know. 'That Mr. Clay' they said, 'you look out for him.'" She shook her finger in a slightly scolding, slightly drunk way.

She could feel that the last glass of bubbly beginning to kick in, and it was only going to get worse before it got better. She hoped that the room didn't begin to spin.

"That may be, Miss Parker, but you haven't answered the question."

"Hmmm." Her response turned into a giggle, and she probed some ancient thoughts from one particularly drunken night at college. A large smile spread across her face, and she dropped her head to hide it. She looked sideways at him.

"Would it hurt...?" She looked at him innocently.

"Perhaps. Perhaps... not." He said as he smiled wryly, taking a final drag on his cigarette, crushing it out in the ashtray, and exhaling slowly.

"Mmmmmm.... I don't know." She looked at him again. She felt the room wanting to spin, and she didn't fight it. She knew she was slightly out of control, and her hand went subconsciously to her inner thigh. She felt warmth inside herself , and had to fight her hand from going any further. All manner of thoughts ran through her mind, and she slowly became aroused.

He rose from his seat and moved in front of her, reaching down and pulling her up to her feet, holding her close. She nuzzled her face into his chest, biting one of his studs gently.

"You've gotten me drunk, Mr. Clay." She said, as she playfully punched her petite fist into his chest.

He let out a low, short chuckle, held her close, and kissed her deeply.

"Just do as I say, and no one gets hurt." He whispered into her ear, nibbling on the diamond earring, holding her tight.

He raised his hand slowly up the back of her black velvet dress, across the nape of her neck, and ran his fingers into the hair on the back of her head. He slowly gripped tightly, pulling her head back forcing her to look into his eyes. She gripped the stud in her teeth, nearly pulling it out of his tuxedo shirt. She let out a small, almost pretend, squeal.

"Get your dress off, and lie down on the bed. Leave your undies on. They won't be going anywhere for a while." He released her head and unzipped the back of her dress in one motion. She stood still, and the dress dropped to the floor in a rumpled pile.

She walked to the edge of the bed with him, turned around, put a finger in the middle of his chest and pushed herself down onto the edge of the bed, looking at him long and hard.

"I'm trusting you." She breathlessly whispered.

"So foolish." He mouthed, smiling, leaning forward and pushing her shoulders onto the bed.

"Put your hands above your head." He climbed on the bed, straddling her body with his legs.

She slowly moved her hands as he said, as he pulled the silk bowtie from around his neck and deftly wrapped it around her crossed wrists, tying a knot tight enough to keep them in place, loose enough not to cut of the circulation. She playfully kneed him in the groin, just to remind him that she was not to be exploited. He smiled, raised an eyebrow at her, and unbuckled his belt, drawing it from around his pants.

"And just what to you intend to do with that, mister?" She asked, a little excited.

He let out a little chuckle, raising his eyebrows and opening his eyes wide, with a cocky look to his head.

"Don't even think about, you." She said, slurring her words, realizing that she indeed was a bit tipsy, and no longer in full control. He leaned forward to kiss her, and stopped just above her lips.

"Kiss me." He said. She brought her bound hands from over her head and collared his neck and pulled him down. He resisted as she pulled harder, and slowly their lips met. A shiver ran through her body as their tongues met, sending an electric jolt directly to her most delicate parts. She could physically feel herself get instantly excited as heat and moistness began to build in he silk panties.

All at once he pulled his head out of her arms, grasped her wrists, and slotted one end of the belt through the bow tie that bound them, and the other end around a post in the headboard of the bed. He buckled the belt on the tightest loop, binding her hands above her head.

She pulled for a moment, inching her body closer to the top of the bed.

"You think you're so sneaky, mister Clay." She said, as he moved off the bed. Her eyes followed his eyes.

"Comfy?"

"Not exactly." She pouted.

"Good." He smiled at her, and sat on the edge of the bed, proceeding to light a cigarette.

"What are you doing?"

"Smoking a cigarette, silly."

"I could be out of this in a second."

"Really?" He asked with a hint sarcasm. "Alright then, you won't mind if I just pop down the bar for a nightcap would you?" He stood up, found his tuxedo coat, grabbed the key and headed for the door.

"You fuck!" She tried to scream, but in her drunkenness it only came out as a whimpering cry. "You are NOT going to leave me here, are you?"

He stopped at the door, and turned to look at her.

"What did you say?"

"You fuck." She stated, matter of factly.

"I think you need to learn some manners, young lady." With that, he turned around proceeded back to the bed.

"Roll over."

"Fuck you. Besides, I can't."

"Why Not?"

"My hands are tied, mister shifty."

"So? The belt will twist. Now roll!" He pushed her over, and she only mildly resisted. Her black garter silhouetted her beautifully shaped behind in the dim light, framed by the tiniest of thong panties.

"Now then, I need to teach you a lesson."

Her head was held down between her arms above her head and the pillows beneath it. She talked sideways, unable to see him.

"What are you doing?"

"Teaching you a lesson in civility." With that, he began to rub her ass with his hand, slowly in circles. Instantly, and without warning, he raised his hand and gave her a loud slap on her bottom.

She saw shooting white streaks of light from behind her eyelids.

"Ow, you fuck!" She exclaimed through her armpit.

He slapped her again, this time on the other cheek, a little harder.

"Ow!!"

He returned to smoothly stroking her bottom with his hand, and edged his fingers closer to her vagina.

She was wide awake now, as every motion of his hand, of his whole body, took on new significance.

"Didn't they teach you at that overpriced college that it wasn't nice to swear?" And with that, he slapped her again, harder still. He shifted his weight and let go another blow, which resulted in a resounding noise so loud it could be heard in the hallway.

"Owww!!" She exclaimed, as tears welled in her eyes and she pulled her knees up underneath her. But the belt holding her arms twisted tighter with every move, making the bowtie bite into her wrists.

She couldn't explain it, because it hurt, but the throbbing feeling from the strokes on her bottom generated and intense feeling of arousal, and she became thoroughly wet, as she rubbed her legs against one another.

And again he slapped her beautiful bottom, the skin rippling with the stroke, turning the flesh bright red in the dim light.

She moaned, unwilling and unable to utter anything louder. He alternately stroked and then slapped, each time raising the level of strength. She could feel blood welling to the points of impact. Each blow resulted in both pain and pleasure

She had never known a level of sexual excitement this high. The pain was biting, but the raw sexual excitement of the pain was stronger still.

He continued to spank her, alternating between soft strokes and wicked blows. She was lying in a pool of her own sweat and bodily fluids, arching her back, wriggling in ecstasy, burying her head in the pillows to swallow the screams. When she could take no more, she pleaded with him.

"Please... please." She said breathlessly, panting into pillows. "Please, no more." She had never felt such a rush of sexual desire, helplessness, and adrenaline all at once.

He stopped, pulled off the rest of his clothes and laid his naked torso gently across her prostrate body. The firm, warm skin of his abdomen soothed the sting in her buttocks. He reached down and pulled her panties completely off she instinctively spread her legs. With that he slowly pressed his hard cock into her sopping wet vagina, and began gently thrusting himself in and out of her.

She moaned as she felt the firmness of his cock enter her vagina, and she bit the pillow, pulling it under her head. He wrapped one arm underneath her, around her breasts, and the other around her neck, and began to pump her slowly at first, building into furious rhythm as she let out a low, continuous moan of pleasure. Sweat built up between their bodies, as they moved against one another in an instinctual, syncopated rhythm. They were like animals, each moaning, grunting, flexing. She began to feel the welling of an orgasm inside her body as he thrusted hard against her vagina, and almost immediately, as if being hit by an ocean wave, she came all at once; her entire body, every muscle, tensed and shivered as she screamed uncontrollably, uncaring as to who could hear her. And then he too exploded, deep inside her, and she could feel his hot semen spreading inside her as his flesh slowly subsided against hers.

And as quickly as it the orgasm came, it left them both, and they lay totally limp, lying in sweat, hearts pounding, breath racing, intertwined as one. They stayed, as if bonded by the act of love, until the morning light broke over their bodies, revealing all that had occurred the night before.

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