A Good Student Ch. 03

She was panting as I reached up and started searching for the pins that held her hair in place, removing them one by one till her hair tumbled over her face and the long silky strands hid her breasts like a curtain, parting just enough to let the pink-brown nipples poke through. She opened her eyes and looked at me through her hair like an animal through a jungle brake, wild and feral, waiting for me to strike, waiting to see what I was going to do next, ready for whatever I wanted.

I kissed her then, letting all my the passion just flood over me and take control, and I kissed her and lost myself in her mouth as I held her hair in my fist and my other hand roamed all over her naked body, squeezing, caressing, possessing her, the heavy softness of her tits, her tight belly and the sweet flare of her hips. My hand went between her legs and she moaned and pressed her thighs tightly together as if suddenly afraid, a gesture that infuriated me. It was too late for that now, way too late to play shy and modest, and without pausing an instant I slapped her thighs—two sharp little slaps on the insides of her thighs to make her open them and keep them apart—surprising her and making her cry out in alarm, right into my mouth.

I owned her now and we both knew that, and how dare she try and refuse me? I slapped her thighs again and Emma trembled as she spread them wider. She whimpered and pulled on the rope as if suddenly having second thoughts but I was having none of it. I slid my finger against her naked crease and when I kissed her again I could taste her hot, shameful excitement, her nervous arousal.

"Don't you close your legs for me, Emma!" I snarled. "Don't even think of it. I own you now, baby. All of you. Or do you have a problem with that?"

"No," she gasped. "No. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"No, youwere thinking. That's the problem. Don't think. Understand?"

She was naked, her wrists tied to a closet door in this seedy motel on the edge of nowhere, but the things that were going on between us were deep and real and profound and I wasn't fucking around. I was in charge. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back and kissed her deep and she groaned. Her tongue shot into my mouth in eager invitation, showing me what she wanted my finger to do to her below, fluttering in my mouth, thrusting, teasing, and she hummed with pleasure.

I leaned against her and kissed her and played with her pussy and in a matter of moments the smooth muscles of her belly were clenching, rolling with hungry and barely controlled urgency as tried not to fuck back at me. She wanted to get off—her body wanted it—but she resisted, she fought. I felt the lady fighting with the whore inside, and it drove me wild. I knew which one I wanted right then. She knew it too.

"God, you get me hot, Emma!" I whispered in her ear. "You get me so fucking hot!"

I slid my finger against her pussy and then pushed it up into her and she groaned. I felt that hot, tender tightness spread before my crude invasion and Emma kissed me, then dug her sharp white teeth into my lower lip and hung on as I fingered her. She was trying not to hurt me but I could feel the pain and humiliation as I fingered her like a cheap little sex toy, reaching high into her secret heat. Her tits shook as she trembled in the cuffs but there was nothing she could do. It hurt her but it felt good too, I knew it did. I knew just how it felt.

"Who owns you, Emma? Huh? Who owns you, baby? Whose bitch are you?"

I shoved my finger up deep inside her so that my knuckles crushed against her labia and Emma let go of my lip and grimaced, pulling herself up against the door. She didn't answer. Her eyes were closed.

She made me crazy like this because I knew she loved it. I knew she loved the pain, the feeling of being used, of being tied up and violated. She loved it as much as I loved doing it to her, and it made me crazy. She was so fucking beautiful like this.

"Come here when I'm talking to you," I said, and I used the finger inside her to pull her towards me. I drew her towards me with my finger inside her pussy, but with her wrists tied to the door she couldn't really move and could only take a shaky step, her hips thrust forward—a cheap, sleazy gesture that filled me with an obscene sense of power.

"I asked you who owned you, Emma. Who owns this pussy?"

"Ohhh," she breathed.

I pulled my hand to the side and she followed, drew her back and she followed again. I squeezed her, one finger inside her and my thumb on her shaved pubic mound and I turned her sideways. I spanked her on the ass and she pushed herself onto my fingers trying to escape the blow. She hid behind her raised arms.

Slapp!!!

"Now who owns you?!"

"You do!" she cried. "You do. You own me."

I pulled her back so that she was standing in front of me, her breasts rising and falling, her face hidden in her fall of hair, and I began to finger her, rubbing her clit as I did. Emma was on fire and there was no hiding it. She trembled as I touched her and made little mewling sounds, and then gasped and shook and I heard her swallow what sounded like a scream. It might have been a little climax.

I had to get control of myself. My cock was hard and throbbing and already aching for release and we hadn't been at it for more than ten minutes. I had to calm down.

I stepped back and went to my equipment, leaving Emma hanging from the rope, panting and covered in a sheen of perspiration. I picked up some ankle cuffs and a spreader bar and came over. I knelt and buckled the leather cuffs around her ankles, making a conscious effort to ignore the proximity of her pussy, then clipped the bar to the cuffs so that her feet were held apart at about shoulder width.

By now I had no doubts that Emma loved what I was doing to her. She loved the rope, the submission, the possession, the passion and the roughness. But now we were getting into something new, something that went beyond just spanking and hot sex. There was something humiliating in the spreader bar, the way it held her ankles apart and exposed her and kept her that way. There was no way she could close her knees now or hide herself. This was a little piece of equipment designed specifically to make her into something entirely sexual, and I could tell, it excited her.

I grabbed an 18-inch riding crop and a vibrator and put them on the closest bed where I could get to them Emma leaned against the closet door, her feet held apart by the bar, her elbows up by her face, watching every move I made. I turned off the far bedside light and threw a red cloth over the remaining lamp to give us a suitable hellish and murky atmosphere, and then I walked over to her.

I pushed her hands back and lowered my head, sucked a nipple into my mouth and took her pussy in my hand like I owned it. I touched her gently, aware that she had just come, but Emma recovers very quickly, and as soon as I touched her she sucked in a quick little breath and bit her lip against the pleasure. I stroked her like she was a nervous cat, soothing her, soaking up her warmth. My thumb slid slowly around her clit. She was very wet

"Nice?" I asked her. "Nice being all tied up and held open like this? Nice having your pussy played with?"

She didn't answer, but I could tell by the way fast, shallow way she was breathing that she liked it.

"Nowhere to go, is there?" I teased. "All mine, That pussy—everything you've got is all mine."

I took my finger from her cunt and brought it to her lips.

"Taste it, baby. Taste what you're like when you're excited. Your own juice, Emma. Come on, Don't pretend you never tasted it before. Suck it. Suck my finger like it's a little cock."

She resisted for just a moment, then opened her mouth and sucked my finger inside,. Her eyes closed and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, and she was so fantastically beautiful at that moment, tied and bound and sucking my cum-smeared finger like a little slave. I had to taste her too. I wanted to taste that pussy too, her excited female juice.

I dropped to my knees and she gave a little squeal of alarm. I grabbed her buttocks in my hand and licked her belly, licked her thighs, bit them softly till I felt her tremble. Her mound was hairless and looked like a little girl's, all sweet and innocent, but I knew different. I could feel her eyes on me as I knelt at her feet. I could feel her trying to keep her cool—one part of her trying to resist while the other part wanted to shove her pussy into my face like a little whore and have me eat her till she came. I knew how hot she was, how coming once was never enough for her and how much she must need it, and I knew what torture it must be to be tied up and spread open like this and not be able to do anything about it. I could feel her quiver as I dragged my tongue across her belly and teased the very edges of her pussy, bit her thighs and blew my breath on her clit. I knew how mean it was for me to spread her pussy apart with my fingers and reach my tongue for her and yet not touch her, to bitch-slap her cunt with the backs of my fingers like it was an insolent little punk till she moaned and started to beg me, started to plead with me to do whatever I had to do to make her behave. I knew it was mean, but God, I loved it!

"Come here," I growled.

I reached through her legs and grabbed one of her buttocks and pulled her hips towards my face so that she was thrusting her cunt out like a common whore. With my other hand I parted her labia and held her spread for me, watching how her legs shook as she tried instinctively to close her thighs. I leaned forward so she could feel my breath on her and I could bathe in her pure female heat. Then, when I was sure she was watching, when I knew I had her total, undivided attention, I leaned forward and touched my tongue to her clit.

"Ohhhhhh!"

Just the tip of my tongue, the tip of her clit, the coalescing of my saliva with her female secretions, just that intimate and that obscene, so that when I drew my tongue back a viscous little strand formed between us, a clear little thread of mucus that finally snapped like a broken heart, and as if that were the signal, I finally leaned forward, took a deep breath and began to lick her clit with long swipes of my tongue. I sucked it between my lips and tongued it as my middle finger plunged into her cunt and began to fuck her.

It was heaven, heaven. Heaven to have her tied up and spread wide and helpless before me, mine to use as I wished. Heaven to have her sexual soul between my lips and the tight channel of her cunt speared on my finger and feel her shudder inside with filthy sexual pleasure, feel that tight belly begin to work cramp and bunch in a greedy search for more pleasure, feel her melt and dissolve into a lascivious, sex-driven whore. I love those feminine muscles—hot, hungry, sucking, pushing that pussy onto my mouth and fingers without shame or compunction, desperate for her selfish little come.

I flashed my eyes up at her as I ate her cunt, opened my mouth wide and sucked her soft flesh into my mouth. Her tits still hung like heavy fruit, the bottoms now covered with goose bumps, nipples stiff and projecting like bullets through the curtain of hanging hair that covered them. Her eyes were closed, mouth open in rapture, her fingers spreading and then clenching as she hung from the rope in abject helplessness, the willing victim of my lust. The muscles on the insides of her thighs quivered occasionally as she still tried to instinctively close her legs against the maddening probing of my tongue and fingers, but as I'd told her, there was no escape. Her ankles were held open by the spreader bar. My tongue swirled around her clit and plunged into her pussy. I sucked her clit between my lips and spit it out and pumped my fingers into her and Emma's head bumped against the door as she stiffened in a sudden spasm of overwhelming pleasure.

"Oh God! Coming! Oh! Coming!" she squealed, and I lashed her clit with my tongue and held her pussy pressed to my mouth as I felt her loins tighten and pump against me as she gasped and moaned and jerked in her bonds like a marionette. I licked deep, scooping up her juice, then licked again and swallowed her down—essence of Emma, as powerful an aphrodisiac as I'd ever tasted. My dick was hard and aching and oozing in my pants, throbbing to get at her, but I wasn't done with her yet.

She collapsed against the door, quivering and gasping, half-turning as if to shield herself from more abuse. I stood and stripped off my shirt. It was hot in there by now and both of us were sweating. I wanted to feel her skin against me, and I would have taken my pants off too except I knew that would just lead to me fucking her sooner, maybe just taking her as she was against the door, bending my knees sand sliding my dick right up into her as she hung from her wrists, holding her ass and humping her like an animal till I shot my load into her. It would be nice, but I had other things to try. Control. It's all about control.

So she liked the ropes. She did well in bondage. Okay. That was a start. Now what about the whip. What about the vibrator?

I had no doubt about the vibe. There are some women who are embarrassed by their reaction to it, but I've never found any who didn't really like it. I turned Emma to the front and brushed her hair back from her face, The flush of orgasm was still on her face, her eyes closed, lips parted. I kissed her because I wanted to, because she was so beautiful. Then I rubbed the vibrator across her lower lip.

"Suck it for me, darling," I whispered. "Pretend it's my cock. Show me how you suck it."

She opened her mouth like a baby bird and her pink tongue came out and I slid the tip of the vibe inside. Emma closed her lips over it with a look of deep satisfaction and sucked. I could feel her tongue swirling around it and I smiled. She was a natural. I slid it slowly in and out of her mouth and she moaned softly. Her lips were sensitive enough so that she found the friction erotic in itself. That was good.

I removed the vibe and turned it on, then slid it down her tits, over her nipples, slowly awakening her from her post-orgasmic haze. She sighed. I alternated working on her nipples with first the vibe and then my mouth, sucking and teasing them into sensitivity again, and then, when Emma seemed recovered, I slid it down to her pussy.

"Ohhhh! Oh, yes! Oh God, that's good!" she moaned.

"Is it, baby? You like that? Around your clit like that? Back and forth Slow?"

"Yes. Yes. Just like that."

It didn't really matter. I just held it against her clit and she moved her pussy over it as she wanted—pumping slow, then faster, faster, then pushing, then backing off and starting over. I studied her face, the way she licked her dry lips, the sound of her breath as her hips worked, the sound of the vibrator, the pitch changing as it was engulfed in her hungry, searching pussy.

Again—heaven. Just standing there, leaning over her, so close that she could arch her back and press her naked tits against me, holding the buzzing vibrator as the bound Emma worked herself off on it, getting herself more and more aroused, and making me hotter and hotter till I thought I couldn't stand it any more. I ached for her, needed her. I wanted to fuck her, shove my cock in her and hurt her with it, make her cry out for me. She was driving me wild—driving me to that state.

Her hips were pumping steadily now, no more slowing down. She was getting close—very close—and she pursued her come with a fierce and single-minded dedication, almost ignoring me. I reached down on the bed and picked up the crop, never moving the vibrator. I picked up the crop and leaned back and slapped the end against her right breast.

"Oww!" Her eyes flew open in surprise.

"Don't stop," I said. "I want you to get off."

"But—"

"Don't stop! You're going to come for me, understand?"

Her hips started moving against the vibrator again but tentatively this time, because her eyes were on the whip now, watching in disbelief as I brought the crop back and it hovered threatening in the air and then struck, slapping her left nipple—a hard, flat sound, rude and nasty just enough to make her feel she was being driven, being driven like an animal under her master's hand.

Emma was a good girl, a nice girl, and she'd never seen anything like this let alone had anyone actually do it to her, use a whip on her own ripe and virginal tits. Someone was doing it now, though, and she understood exactly what it meant—the sharp slap of leather on innocent flesh, the sting, the defenselessness. She twisted in the ropes and pulled at her bonds, her excitement growing as I pressed the buzzing vibrator between her legs.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!"

I spanked her tits with the whip, one than the other, the tops, the undersides, the nipples, the areolas. They peaked, grew even stiffer and seemed to be reaching for the whip on their own, reaching for the abuse as if they wanted it, as if they wanted to be broken and punished. Emma looked down at her tits in shame and confusion as if she couldn't believe their betrayal, as if this body couldn't be hers. I know what she was thinking—that she wasn't like this, she didn't like being whipped or treated this way, but the look on her face said otherwise and the sounds that escaped her clenched teeth were sounds of frantic excitement. She began to arch into the whip, pushing her chest at it, wanting it faster and harder. Her hips pumped hungrily at the vibrator.

I began to whip her thighs, the insides, the outsides, holding the vibe in place and working around it, increasing the force of the blows so they made a vicious sound as they landed on her skin and began to leave red marks. Emma loved it and her hips worked hard, fucking the vibe, fucking the whip, trying to make love to them both, giving herself to the pleasure and cloying pain as her ass bumped softly against the closet door and she grunted and groaned with the effort. It was the final indignity, being buzzed and whipped to orgasm like she was nothing but an animal—a racehorse being driven down the final stretch by a feverish jockey using spurs and whip, foam-flecked, panting.

God knows why she drove me so crazy, why I wanted this so much. It wasn't to hurt her. It wasn't because I hated her. It was because I just wanted her so much—everything she was and everything she had. I felt like I held her heart in my hand, her body and soul quivering at the touch of that whip.

"Oh! Harder! Harder! Harder!" she cried. She began to tremble uncontrollably and she grabbed the rope with both hands, staring down at her own pussy as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

At the last second I dropped the vibrator, just dropped it on the carpet and shoved my finger into her. I pulled her towards me and turned her so I could ship her behind and I held her with my finger in her pussy as I lashed her ass with the crop, swearing at her, begging her, imploring her—"Come, baby! Come for me, Emma! Come for me, gorgeous! Please baby! Give it to me, Please, you fucking whore! Please, baby, please!"—and that was all it took. She threw her head back and screamed and I dropped the whip and grabbed her and crushed her against me like I could feel her right though her skin. I held her tight and shoved my finger deep into her, looking for that special place, the heart of her femaleness, the center of her come. Her hips lurched and jerked in an obscene orgasmic dance, her contractions so intense that I felt her internal muscles bear down on me inside, felt the hot stream of shameful lubricant ooze from her pussy and run over my fingers like a secret confession, a private gift I knew she'd given no one else in her life. I held her and held her as if I could somehow absorb her into my body. I felt her trembling inside.