A Good Student Ch. 03

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dr_mabeuse
dr_mabeuse
3,765 Followers

I couldn't stand anymore. As soon as it was decent but before she'd even stopped twitching I untied her wrists from the door. I picked her up in my arms and carried her over to the dresser. She couldn't walk because the bar was still chained to her ankles so I just carried her in my arms as kept her eyes closed and pressed her bound wrists against her breasts as if in prayer, still trembling with the aftershocks and looking like a frightened deer.

I carried her over to the dresser and put her down in front of it. Both of us were shaking, me with need, and Emma from the force of her orgasm.. I turned her around and gently bent her over the dresser so she was leaning on her forearms, her legs straight and knees locked, ass up like a bitch waiting to be mounted. I stepped back and looked at her and began to tear off my clothes, kicking off my shoes and socks and stripping off my shirt, pulling down my pants and shorts in one motion and throwing them aside, my eyes never leaving her. Aside from the rapid rise and fall of her breathing and the occasional helpless tic or tremor in her thighs and ass, Emma was perfectly still, as if the slightest movement might set her off again. The image that came to mind was that she was waiting to bemounted, like a heifer or mare, waiting to be inseminated by her bull or her stallion, and that's what I felt like—something wild and bestial.

My cock was hard and swollen, aching with need and sore from being bruised inside my clothes. It felt like a fire-breathing dragon standing out from my loins, a rocket tethered to the earth only by the enormous weight of my balls. Emma stole a glance back at me and down at my cock and quickly looked away, dropping her head between her shoulders as if she was sorry she'd seen.

I was too naked, stripped too bare. My lust and my need were too apparent and I must have been terrible to look at, like looking into the face of the sun. She moaned softly as I approached her, a soft, almost beseeching sound. I could see the marks of the whip on her ass.

I put my bare foot on the spreader bar between her ankles and stepped on it. There was enough play so I could press it solidly against the floor and Emma adjusted her stance. I moved both feet so I stood squarely on the bar, holding her in place so she couldn't move her ankles. The head of my cock was inches from the wet vertical slit of her pussy. I could see the juice oozing out of her. She was drooling for me

I put my hands on her hips, felt her softness, her warmth. I slid my hands up and under till I cupped her naked, hanging breasts and then down again, luxuriating in the feel of this body that I owned.

How many woman had I had in my life and how much sex, and always confused and compromised, complicated and hedged with conditions and permission, tangled in words and explanations and apologies, or part of some emotional deal or trade, a reward or prize or part of a package? How women had I lusted after and wanted with a pure and simple desire, just to know their softness and beauty and the sweetness of their embrace of their kisses. How many had I ached for and resented, compromised myself for and tried to please? How twisted and contorted I'm become and how lonely; how wounded and angry, how choked with complicated lies and rationalizations over women and my love for them.

And now, with Emma helpless and bent before me waiting for my thrust, how very fucking clean I felt. How strong and alive and unashamedly male. I felt like Poseidon, like the Bull from the Sea, pure and bright, everything as perfect and obvious as male and female, light and dark, cock and pussy. She was something I wanted. Something I wanted so deeply that I had no words for it, only this raw hunger, and suddenly I wanted to hear her say it too. I wanted to know we were here for the same thing.

I ran my hand down her flawless back, from her shoulder to her ass, then back up. She arched beneath my hand like a cat.

"What do you want, Emma?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Tell me. What do you want, baby?"

Her pussy was open, inches from me. She didn't know what to say.

I repeated it. "Tell me what it is. Do you want me, baby? Do you want my cock?"

"Yes. Yes. I want your cock, Conner. Please."

"Why?"

"Why?" She turned her head and looked back at me. "Oh God, Conner! You're asking me why?"

I smiled. I was enjoying this. "I'm asking you why."

She said nothing.

I leaned forward. The red dome of my cock touched the sticky ring of her hole and I felt her flesh give. She twitched inside and shocks of pleasure raced to my brain. A kind of sensual darkness began to absorb me and the words began to spill out beyond my control.

"Because you want to be owned, Emma? Because you want someone to use you, to find their pleasure in you? To take it from you, take that pleasure?"—I looked down. I was slowly pressing into her without even meaning to, leaning forward. Her cunt was dimpling inward as my thick head pushed into her, tucking her flesh inside. The heat was growing, the pressure, her grip on my cock—"Because you want to feel me? Feel me inside you, all over you, fucking you, making you my whore, my fucking whore, my sweet, filthy, fucking whore? That's what you want? To be mine, my slave, my bitch, my lover? My cumslut, my dirty fuckdoll, my sub, my goddamn fucking cunt? To be everything to me? Is that it? Is that what you want? You want my filthy fucking love? My heart and soul?"

"Oh Conner! Oh God! God! Conner!"

She wailed and I pushed my cock into her and pulled her onto me at the same time, leaning back and grabbing her hips and holding her like a water skier holds his rope as I stood on that bar to keep her feet fixed on the floor as I made her take me. I was like a maniac as I fed my prick into her, entering her, taking her, filling her with it, beyond rational thought. I kept my eyes locked on her face as I did, and I felt chills as I realized that I was part of her now and she was part of me. This was bigger than any sex I'd ever known, and I was closer to her than I'd ever been to another human being in my life, this stranger, this girl I hardly even knew.

"Oh Jesus, Emma!" I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, making a bow of her back. "Oh Christ!"

She gasped and she must have known how I felt just from the way I fucked her. I could see her face in the mirror, her eyes flying open in shock as I finally lost control and shoved it all the way inside her in one huge stroke, mashing her pussy flat and trapping my balls against her clit. I rose up on my toes and grabbed a double fistful of her hair and pulled her even tighter on to my aching cock, pushed harder, wanting every millimeter inside her. I wanted it deep. I wanted to hurt her. I felt her grab and suck on me with muscles I didn't even know women had.

"Oh God!" I moaned. "God you are so fucking good!"

She was still throbbing and trembling from the vibrator orgasm, little tremors and twitches in her legs and her internal muscles, so I just stood there and tried to control myself, waiting for her to calm down. I let go of her hair and tried to relax, tried not to move, and Emma clutched at the edge of the dresser with her bound hands, resting her face against the cool surface. I waited. It was hard, but I waited.

I waited till I felt her move, till I felt her seem to firm up beneath my hands and around my cock, till she got some strength back, and then I reached over and got another vibrator from the towel next to us on the dresser. I could have just fucked her, but honestly, I was afraid to move. I was afraid that if I so much as pumped once or twice I would come like a fucking fountain inside her so I decided to play with her some more instead and make her do the work. I decided to make her my slave and my toy, to turn her own sexuality against her. I waited till she was starting to push gently against me, testing my hardness, and then I turned on the vibrator and pressed it against her pussy and Emma reacted with a start. Emma jumped. It was as if someone had hit a button and Emma cried out and came alive.

I stood behind her, my feet planted on that spreader bar, reaching around her and holding her pussy open with one hand while the other played that buzzing dildo lightly over her aroused little clit and Emma moaned, she groaned, she snarled and began to move her ass in abject surrender, not even trying to control herself anymore. She squeezed her pussy around me and pumped with her thighs. She rocked back and forth, sucked my dick inside her and spitting it out, her tight cunt sliding along the shaft like a ring of slinky steel.

"Fuck me! Fuck me!" she spat, savoring the filthiness of the word. "Harder! Fuck me harder!"

And I did, I did. I dropped the vibe and grabbed her hips and started to slam into her so hard that she grunted like an animal, her tits slapping against the flat top of the cheap dresser. I reached between her legs and started to play with her again, knowing how it drove her crazy, how she loved being touched. I masturbated her as I fucked her, beating her off like some naughty little boy as my big pole slid in and out of her juicy cunt like the giant drive shaft of a runaway locomotive.

"Come on, baby!" I hissed. "Come on, Emma! Give me that come, bitch! Give me that filthy fucking come, you little slut! Give your daddy what he wants, baby! Give it to me! Give it to me! All over me, baby. All over my big fat cock!"

I frigged her, slapped her, spanked her clit, fucked her ruthlessly as she clung to the dresser and whined and snarled like an animal, and then I just pressed my hand against her cunt and shook it, frantically, shamelessly making her cunt vibrate around my straining cock like she was nothing but a goddamned vibrator built for me and me only. I beat myself off using her pussy as my machine, frantic with lust.

That was too much. That was just too much for her, and through the red haze of my own incandescent climax I heard her gasping wail—"Yes! Yes! Coming! Oh God! Conner! Conner! Coming! Coming!"

"Oh fuck yes! Coming too! Here, baby! Here it is! Take it, Emma! Take it!"

She clung to the dresser and lifted her ass like a bitch in heat as I threw my head back and felt that scalding release start deep in my balls, the soles of my feet, roaring up for her like a torrent of magma. My body was at her command now and I think she must have known it, she must have felt that too, that I had no more control then that she did and had no choice but to give it to her, my dumb stupid cock sunk deep in her pussy, my body clenched as I spewed my come into her in agonized paralyzing pleasure, one jolt after another. For a moment I was totally free, far beyond thought, pure sensation and energy, with Emma coming and hunching beneath me with sighs of luxuriant and breathless pleasure, her ass rolling as she sucked my seed inside her. I could feel the heat coming off her body, my sweat seeming to sizzle as it fell on her skin just as my come seemed to sizzle as it splattered inside of her, like water on red-hot steel.

I fell forward onto the dresser, cock still sunk inside of her, catching myself on my hands as I continued to come, growling and moaning as I continued to pour that cream into her in one flawless, gushing stream.

There was a satisfaction in the way she took it. She lay flat on the dresser with her ass in the air, the slightest smile on her face, almost a smugness, as if she had some secret arrangement with my body that I'd never understand, something dark and feminine and private and it excited me to think that she might know some part of me so well, so instinctively. My orgasm left me weak, almost a child, and yet it seemed to give her some strange strength and sense of fulfillment.. She was terribly beautiful, even down to the recumbent, feminine line of her back, her satisfied lips, her eyelids now heavy and filled with peace.

I was reluctant to leave her, but really, she was lying on the dresser and I was on top of her. I lifted myself up.

"Oh Conner, don't move..."

I managed to kneel and unclip her ankles from the bar, then pulled her over to the bed where I collapsed onto the duvet, pulling down with me, both of us covered in sweat. Instantly she nestled into the crook of my arm and formed herself against me, her thigh over mine, breasts against my ribs, her body like a salve against my raw nerves. I held her and ran my hands over her skin, and when I felt the welts on her bottom I winced.. Emma didn't say anything. She just rubbed her cheek against me, proud of her marks. Strangely, I felt proud too and held her tighter, my heart filled with her. She'd earned everything I could give her. I felt in her debt.

She lifted her hand to stroke my chest but then hesitated. She lifted her head. "May I touch?" She was only half teasing.

I smiled. "Of course. We're just people again. No rules. People touch."

She laid her head back on my shoulder and played with my chest and I dropped into a feeling of deep peace. I felt as if I were lying on a beach and Emma was the sun and the sea and her fingers were the waves breaking over me. I thought how I'd never felt so fulfilled from an act of sex, drained not only of tension but of anger and a kind of fury I hadn't even been aware of, something I carried around with me as a constant companion, this hunger for a woman's softness and comfort.

I felt a terribly deep and perverse pride knowing that Emma was filled with my come, that I could feel the warm stickiness oozing from her pussy as she ground herself contentedly against my leg. I closed my eyes and thought of how she was still being fucked as my sperm were still beating their way inside her, looking for that target. I knew she was on the pill, but I liked to think of them finding her egg, entering her again in another cellular fuck, fusing with her—my essence and hers, genes and strands of delicate nucleic acids unwrapping and wrapping around each other like lovers' limbs with blind chemical passion.

The idea was getting me aroused—the simple, basic biology of it, like a force of nature, like gravity or heat or light—and though Emma couldn't possibly know what I was thinking, she must have been able to feel me stir and she instinctively responded, pressing against me, already offering herself to my reviving need, ready for whatever I might want.

There was a sudden burst of melody from her bag—her cell phone, some classical rondo played too fast, annoying and absurd and clamoring for attention, and my first reaction was to swear at her and tell her to turn the damned thing off, but then I remembered how scrupulous she was about answering her boyfriend's calls, and how I'd promised her never to interfere in her outside life. That applied even here in this motel where I'd just tied her and whipped her and fucked her and come inside her.

"Go ahead and answer it." I started to rise. "Let me get my pants on and I'll go outside and leave you alone. I'll grab a cigarette." I didn't want to embarrass her.

"No," she said. "No, not now. I don't want to talk to him tonight."

"I thought he gets all suspicious if you don't answer."

She raised her head and looked at me. "Do you think I can talk to him right now? Do you really think I'm that good a liar?"

The phone rang six times and then stopped. Emma put her head back down on my chest and I felt like an asshole.

"He calls every night?" I asked.

"Usually, yes. Unless he goes out with his friends."

"He's jealous?"

Her voice was flat and regretful. "More like possessive."

"Can I ask...?" It was awkward, but I wanted to know. "Are you like this with him? Sexually? Does he know about all this?"

She didn't seem upset. She spoke calmly, her face against my chest. "No. But then, I don't think I knew about 'all this' myself before you. This is all new to me, you know that don't you, Conner? You don't think I'm like this normally."

She lifted her head and looked at me and I felt embarrassed yet shamefully proud. I kept my face passive, but inside I burned with terrible male ego.

This was what I'd wanted from her all along, wasn't it? Not just sex, not just physical sensation, but conquest, ownership, a place in her heart—something I might think of as love. I wanted to be the first. I wanted to be the one she'd always remember. I was ashamed to admit it to myself after I'd sworn to keep it physical, but I wanted her love.

"I never thought about it," I lied.

She rolled over onto her stomach and looked at me. "What am I to you, Conner? Do you have a lot of girls you do this with? Am I just one more? I want to know. I think it's fair you tell me. You owe me that much."

I was slow in answering. I'd been waiting for this but I still wasn't sure what to say. "I thought we had an agreement. We keep our private lives out of this."

"No," she said. "It's too late for that. I want to know. Look at me, Conner. Look at me."

She raised herself up on her elbows, gathered her long hair and swept it back behind her head, then arched her back so her breasts stood out. They were criss-crossed with lines and marks from the whip, some no more than faint pink lines, some of them raised and angry-looking welts against her smooth, innocent flesh.

"Look at me. Do you think I'd let anyone do this to me? Do you really think I've done this before? That I just give this to anyone?"

Guilt welled up inside me, guilt and a sickly pride, a dirty kind of lust and self-satisfaction, and I knew she felt the same thing, showing off her wounds, shaming me with what she'd suffered at my hand. I did owe her, and not just for the whipping.

"His name's David," she said, sinking back down. "Naveed, actually. He Americanized it to David. His family's Lebanese and he has no idea I'm this way. He'd die if he found out and I don't know what I'm going to do. I never suspected either, never thought I'd get off on this so much. At first I thought it would just be fun, like a fantasy. I've always had these fantasies—being kidnapped and tied up, made to do things—but I thought they were just fantasies, that the reality wouldn't live up to the dream. It does though, doesn't it?"

Her eyes searched my face, looking for an honest answer, for confirmation.

"Yes," I said. It was what I'd discovered too. It was even better than I'd thought it would be.

She nodded. "Yes. And now I don't know. I don't know what to think. Now it's like I don't even know who I am. Conner, no one's ever done these kinds of things to me. No one's ever made me feel this way. Can I tell you something? Can I trust you?"

"Yes."

"I'm scared."

She was beautiful, heart-breakingly beautiful—her eyes and her lips, the stripes on her naked breasts, her vulnerability. I reached up for her and pulled her down against my chest and held her close, felt her press against me.

"There is no one else, Emma" I whispered. "There are no other girls, and I haven't done this kind of thing or felt this way with anyone for a very long time. A very long time. Believe me, Emma. This is something special, and I'm kind of scared too."

My words brought her relief, brought her comfort her, and we huddled there together, protecting each other from our fear, soothing each other; then feeling it, wallowing in it. Is that what love is at the start? Being able to scare yourself, being willing to let someone else scare you with what they make you feel? Being afraid excited me and it excited Emma too. It made her rub against me like you might rub against a shark even though you knew it was dangerous, sheer madness, playing with the danger and loving the fear. She teased me, provoked me, kissing me soft and hot and deep and stretching and writhing against me like a cat. Her arousal was sharp and urgent and in her excitement she reversed our rolls, grabbed my wrist in her slim fingers and made as if to hold me down as she kissed me. She lifted her leg and rubbed her smooth thigh over mine, ground her sticky cunt against my hip as if to remind me what she was there for. She moaned as my sweat stung the welts on her tits.

dr_mabeuse
dr_mabeuse
3,765 Followers