Heart-Shaped Headfuck

Shane stared for a moment at the unsealed envelope, not even bothering to look yet at what might bulge within. 'Vanessa,' he said confidentially, 'your roommate, my girlfriend - she's certifiable. She's had me following these...clues all damn day. She's had me running up to... I've been... I've had...' He paused a second, scrutinising Vanessa's placid face. 'You're in on this. You've been helping her plan this. The sketch, that was yours. This...' He held up the envelope in vague accusation. 'You know where she is, don't you?'

'Now Shane,' she said, hitting him with a gaze of utter sincerity. 'When have I ever fucked with you?' He stared back for a moment, then realised there was no winning against Vanessa. 'I think,' she suggested, 'you need to go finish whatever little game you and Sam are playing. And then I think you really need to take that girl in hand. 'Cos she's running rings around you right now.' She patted him on the cheek affectionately. 'When you've checked in the envelope, there's a Walmart close by. Turn right outside the building - it's three blocks down on your left.'

'Walmart... Because...I'm supposed to...?' Faced with Vanessa's sympathetic but basically unhelpful smile, Shane gave up trying. He picked up his ruined flowers - that insane girl would be presented with the wretched things if it killed him - and walked out of the room, burning from Vanessa's obviously amused gaze. Then he stormed silently from the apartment, the redhead's ravenous tones carrying to him as she resumed business with her partner.

'Come on, lover, I need you to finish what you started...' Buckcherry began to blast out all over again. Heyyyy, you're a crazy bitch...

In the hallway Shane leaned against the wall, eyes shut, breathing in deeply. God, he seemed to collect reasons for being embarrassed anytime he met Sammy's best friend. And his crazed girlfriend had clearly known what might have happened...had probably even chuckled over it. Scheming little... He checked the contents of the envelope. Inside was a digital camera chip. Well that explained the Walmart instruction. And a sheet of writing paper matching the envelope and bearing a four-word message in Sammy's curling script: Was that bad enough? He remained sloped against the wall as he stared at it.

Was that bad enough? Shane recalled the conversation to which the question alluded. It had begun a few days after his dad's birthday weekend. They had been in the tub together at his place when she had introduced the subject. She had been conscientiously soaping his hard dick, the purple-red of her pointy nipples visible through the suds which clung to her neat round breasts. 'You think I pushed things too far at your folks' place?'

'You certainly played a dangerous game,' he had replied, his voice a touch uneven due to her smooth manual attentions. He was aware as he said it that he had not managed a word of protest during her nocturnal visit to his room the night in question.

'I know I can be bad,' she had said, head dipped, eyes cast upwards at their most seductive, as she curled the fingers of one hand gently around his balls, sustaining her soapy ministrations on his shaft with the other. 'I know I can go too far. Maybe I need taming, have you ever thought about that? Putting me in my place?' She bit the corner of her lip. 'Teaching this naughty girl a lesson?'

'What, you mean rope you up and give your ass a good thrashing with a cat o' nine?' He had said it as a joke, but with her hands all over his genitals his own words had a rather potent physical effect on him.

Sammy just paused the longest time, not laughing, nor taking her eyes off him. 'Something like that.' She let the seriousness of her tone sink in. Well, do you like that thought?'

He paused too, revelling in her intimate touch, but also in her adoption of this playfully submissive air. 'Ehhh - yeah, in theory... It's not something I've ever...explored.'

More soft soaping of his hard cock. 'You wanna?'

And so some short while later Shane had found Sammy's towel-dried, moisturised bottom stretched across his lap as he sat naked on his bed. The anticipation had quickened his pulse and swollen his rod, but when he tried, all he could manage was a tentative pat. 'That it, baby? Come on, you're not congratulating my butt,' she had giggled. 'I've been naughty.' He had tried again, adding a little more weigh. 'Better. Come on - where's my big strong guy?' He gave it some this time, a decent whack on her cheeks.

'Owww!'

'Shit! Sorry baby, you okay?'

'Yeah, yeah, again!'

'Okay, ehhh...' He'd raised his hand, but it was no use. It just hovered there unable to follow through with her request. They had sat on the bed moments later, Sammy stroking his arm tenderly. 'Sorry, I just couldn't.'

'It's okay,' she had reassured. 'It was just a thought. We can try it again sometime.'

'I don't know. It was exciting, I mean really exciting, but - well - I'm not sure if I could ever do it properly. It feels weird. Not right. I - you know...' He stroked her cheek with his thumb. '...Care about you.'

She looked suddenly coy. 'I know you do, baby. That's why I'd let you do it.' She rested her head on his shoulder a moment. 'So how bad would I have to be for you to spank me sore?'

He held her close. 'Sorry, babe. I'm not sure you could ever be that bad.'

Ever be that bad.

Shane seethed the entire three blocks to Walmart. There was teasing. There was sexy. And then there was tearing up all plans for the day and dragging your boyfriend through a mire of frustration and humiliation instead. Damn the girl. Damn the silly, infuriating little...little... She thinks she knows what she wants? I oughta show her...

He ignored all stares at whatever ridiculous figure he cut as he walked through the Walmart branch and searched out the photo section. No hesitation, he was a man on a mission. Booth - chip in slot - follow the on-screen instructions and wait for the results. Come on, come on, let's see if this little amusement is going to go on forever. The snapshots landed one by one in the tray, around twenty of them. He waited till the entire set had collected and, checking that no one was looking over his shoulder, commenced flipping through them.

Vanessa's work once again, of that he had no doubt. Cunningly shot, there was no one photo in which the lissom blonde model was completely identifiable as Sammy. Not short of several weeks' close-up inspection of her hot body at any rate. It was all artfully draped hair and clever framing with just the hint of that sunshine smile on display. The early snaps had her posing in a scarlet tank top and cut-off blue jeans laced at the crotch in the same red. There proceeded a shot-by-shot striptease, the shorts peeled off an appealingly thrust-out rear, till she was captured in a tiny white-cotton thong. This she stretched upwards for the lens, pulling the strand of material tight into her pussy-cleft. After that it was strictly nude - draping herself over kitchen work-tops, armchairs and washing machines with exhibitionist abandon, cupping her tits, bending at ninety degrees with her legs split, lying back and fingering herself wantonly.

Then the final picture. Snapped from the rear, blonde mane pulled aside to give a clear view from the nape of her neck to the very beginning of her ass's crevice. And written in bright russet lipstick down the smooth curve of her back: Not going anywhere - come get me. There was no mistaking the location or how recently the shots had been taken. The audacity of the girl was impressive, but it did not absolve her. Shane stood for a few moments more, feasting on the digital images, cock straining hard against denim. The hunt was almost over, he knew. Deliberately and with firm intent, he gathered up his belongings and set off on the final stretch to claim his Treasure.

********************

Sammy flipped shut her cell and waited amidst the flickering candle-light. It would not be long now. The whole afternoon had gone like prime Swiss clockwork, but she could not help but fret that she had stretched the business a little further than necessary. All very well being playful, but to substitute her tricksiness for the evening her boy had so touchingly planned? And just maybe her mind games had worked too well?

The first check-in call, the one from Chan-sook, had begun to put her on edge. The Korean-American friend from her most recent promotions gig had thrown a little improvisation into her role, it seemed, leaving Shane vaguely traumatised by the sound of it. Not that Chan-sook had been worried, laughing merrily as she related the story of the hotel bar soaking. She and Beverley, the college friend of Sammy's who now worked in hotel reception, had shared huge amusement after he had gone. Oh yes, and Chan-sook wondered if Sammy might possibly consider lending out her foxy red dress one more time. Later on the ladies from Barnes and Noble had reported a work colleague who visibly squirmed when having private messages read to him from the inside cover of a pornographic novel; to engage Shane's co-workers in her scheme had seemed such a choice notion to Sammy up till now. And as for Vanessa...

'So after all your moaning about helping me, what are you saying, you wanted to be caught in flagrante de-whatsit? You're an exhibitionist slut, Vee!'

'Oh come on, Sam, why did you text me he was coming from the Park? You knew he might walk in on us, it's what you were hoping for. I'm a good friend, I didn't disappoint. He got quite a show, let me tell you.'

'And - was he pissed?'

'Ohh - after all the stammering and the comedy pratfalls? I think uber-pissed is called for here. You've really done a number on that boy. I just hope it all works out how you intend.'

This most recent conversation had compounded all Sammy's unease. Find yourself a smart, sexy, adorable guy and then mess with his head on the most romantic day of the year. Swell move, Sammy-girl. Reallllll clever. But all the self-directed irony in the world couldn't undo what she had set in motion. So she waited. Waited in her selected pose the few short minutes it would take him from Walmart. Waited and held her nerve as she listened to those solid, purposeful footsteps on the stairs growing nearer and nearer. Waited as his key rattled briefly in the door, as he walked inside and stood there silently in the entrance. Then tentatively, rather scared of what she might find there, she turned her head to look into her boyfriend's face.

Shane took in the sight of his own apartment. It was lit solely by the thick candles he had purchased - they were set about the coffee table, the shelves and the wood floor. The full ice bucket and two waiting glasses were set between the table and the black leather sofa, his one piece of semi-expensive furniture. His jazz selection was playing and the smell of heating lasagne wafted from the kitchen. And on the sofa itself, her nude body golden in the flickering candlelight, lay his tormentor for the afternoon. She was positioned as she had been in the final photograph, resting on hands and knees, her face tight against the leather and her ass thrust invitingly into the air. Her face was turned to him and wearing a plaintive expression.

'Hey baby, I got the place all ready.'

He said nothing, simply shut the door behind him and strolled with his various burdens between the candles to where she lay. He stared down at the graceful upward slope of her back to her proffered rump. She smelt clean and fragrant - bathed and smoothed over with rose-scented body cream to compliment the petals she had scattered about her. The inscription on her back from the photo had been wiped clean and replaced with another in the same dark red lipstick. It was a simple instruction, more a plea: Spank and fuck this bad-girl.

Shane studied the words silently for a moment. The amount of work the 'bad-girl' had put in was undeniable. She had plotted and schemed and sneaked around behind his back for days, maybe weeks to realise her grand plan. A grand plan which involved putting him through the most frustrating, irritating, deeply embarrassing afternoon of his life.

'You very very mad at me?' She shifted her hips a little so that her bottom wiggled. He reached into his backpack, took out the magnum bottle of champagne and ground it firmly into the waiting ice cubes, her eyes following him intently. Then he departed into the kitchen a moment and returned with the waste basket. For a moment he displayed before her the wreckage of a once flawless bouquet of roses, then he upturned the flowers and crushed them hard into the bin. She stared at him in mournful apology. 'I'm sorry, baby, they were beautiful.'

He shrugged off his coat and flung it onto an armchair, followed it with his gloves. Then slowly, deliberately, he moved to her rear and ran his hands over the pert cheeks which she had so submissively thrust ceiling-wards. She flinched slightly at the relative cold of his hands, maybe, or at the release of tension after waiting so long for his touch. He continued to explore the contours of that firm, cheeky little ass, contemplating all the while the smiling, taunting wickedness of those globed cheeks' owner. Of how she must have laughed at the thought of his Manhattan-wide travails and his various public humiliations. Of how damn smart she thought she was, teasing little minx. His cock stretched hard against his jeans. You couldn't mistreat your darling girl, but you could damn well do it to a teasing little minx.

This time there was no gentle build-up. He kept his hand flat against the base of her ass cheeks first, made her wait. Enjoyed the feeling of her body tensing in anticipation. Massaged her just slightly with his flexing and relaxing palm. Drew out the moment until she was all but writhing until his firm, gentle touch. Then he drew back his arm and with a whip-like flick of his hand whacked her soundly. She cried aloud, was rearing up and looking around to check his movements just as he applied the second slap. It went to the exact same tender spot, as did the third and fourth in swift succession. She yelped and laughed and squealed, her body jolting at his hand's firm reprimand.

'That what you want? That how you want to be punished?'

'Yeah, yeah baby...' Her words were coming in little gasps. 'I've been so bad... Punish me please...' He spanked again, just above where her pussy lips peeked from her thighs, then wriggled a finger inside her to find her utterly wet. God, his bad-girl wanted this so, so much, it transpired, and tonight her thirst was going to be slaked. He raised his arm higher, let it fall in a wide arc so his hand impacted resonantly against the firm muscle of her right bum cheek. Following through on the swing, he brought his hand back to similarly smack the left. Enjoying his creativity and the loud vocal response, he continued his pendulum swings, hand splashing hard against her buttocks on each back and forth journey. Everything in his long afternoon suddenly made sense in the liberated joy of smacking his girl's naughty ass till it was red and smarting.

Sammy's chief emotion was relief - that her boy was taking out every ounce of his irritation the way she had intended. She had felt such a cruel, unworthy girlfriend when he appeared at the door with his harried expression and ruined bouquet, and now she took her punishment with relish. She'd put him through so much, he could take what he deserved. 'Ow - ow - OW!' He was making her so juicy with his manual self-expression she just had to tug at her nipples and rub her excited clit.

Then it appeared that his own excitement had reached critical, for he was standing up, ripping off his clothes, flinging them far beyond the candle flames, getting himself all naked before her. In the flickering glow she appreciated how beautiful was her boy, with his gym-enhanced musculature and his lightly-haired body and his messy fair hair, and with that robust seven inches of cock springing up from his loins so handsomely. The very sight of him made her pinch and frig herself more insistently. He returned to her on the sofa and began to manhandle her up from her arched position, one hand possessively cupping her breast, the other sliding over her warmed ass, as he guided her where he desired. 'Come on, I want you over my lap, like last time.' Oooh - caveman!

She lay across him, her pussy slick against his thigh, his hard erection pressing against her waist. He held her, his left arm wrapped just under her breasts, his right doing what she'd asked for - giving the good firm spanking she'd wanted and most manifestly required. 'You tell me when you want me to stop,' he told her huskily between hard slaps. 'Otherwise I'll just keep on going.' She bit down on her lip and restrained her cries as each impact built on the one before, as the burning sensation grew. She was testing him, seeing how far he would go. When she could not restrain a sob he paused, but hearing no further protest, whacked her butt cheeks more forcefully than ever, four-five times, grunting with the effort - till 'Stop! Stop! Okay!' was wrested from her.

Shane had entertained the fantasy, but only now did he know the sheer dick-swelling wonder of taking control, positioning and disciplining his sexy darling, with her limber form stretched out across him, sweet tits plumped against his cradling arm as he meted out what she deserved and desired. He stopped instantly she cried out, slid her up and about, and pulled her to him, kissing her hard and full. 'Sweetheart...' he said in wonder, a strand of saliva still linking their lips, 'you're totally crazy.' She laughed breathily and went to kiss him again, then screamed in delight as he flipped her onto her back and leaped on top of her. A new improvised idea suddenly burned in his mind. 'I'm not done with you.'

She thought she knew what he meant, but gasped aloud when he snatched one of the huge candles from the coffee table and held it above her. Its concave top was awash with liquid wax, a little of which trickled down the side. He raised his eyes inquiringly and she stared back with apprehensive delight. You wouldn't... her eyes were saying, but the flicker of a smile on her lips dared him. He tipped the candle and molten wax spattered over one nipple, all the way across her breasts and onto the other. She uttered an inverted gasp, sucking in air as the sensitive flesh of her nipples drew all the heat from the searing liquid and formed it into hard crusts on both her peaks. 'Oh - Oh God...' Her whole body was bucking in reaction, her flat stomach tautening as she absorbed the extreme sensation.

Shane loved the writhe and bounce of his girlfriend's torso as she gave herself up to the painful pleasure. He had never heard such agonised delight rent from someone's vocal chords. Sammy's hand was searching for her clitoris, but then her body registered the steady hot drip-drip-drip down her sternum, over her stomach, down to her most sensitive spot, as he drew the still-dripping candle over her body. Her eyes widened as she saw it hover over her pussy, hot wax still pooling at the brim. 'Shane - Shane - Shane -' she was gasping, not actually telling him to desist. Their eyes locked. He read her and let the merest drop of scorching liquid fall onto her exposed little button. A kind of traumatic ecstasy exploded outwards from that tender pinpointed spot. She screamed aloud, her whole body thrashing, hands clutching at her tits, crumbling the now brittle wax.