Brothel Boy

I concentrated on following the two glowing red tail lights of the car in front of me, and tried to ignore my rising nerves and rising cock. I wasn't entirely sure what Mistress had planned tonight, but it was going to be unusual. Just as I had pulled up in her driveway, my cellphone had rung. I had a text message from her: "Stay in the car, and follow." I had no idea where we were heading, or what we would be doing. The mystery, the fact that I did not know and could not control what was to happen next, was a big part of the excitement. All I knew for now was to follow Mistress's car, and obey her commands.

We left the highway, and seemed to be heading to one of the seedier parts of town. Not an out-and-out dive of an area, but certainly far from the vanilla-and-white-bread suburbia where we lived. It was an industrial area by day, and a haven for sex shops and brothels by night. I figured that, perhaps, we were headed for one of the sex shops to get some new toys. Boy, was I wrong. Eventually, she pulled into the parking lot next to one of the more upscale brothels in the area, the Silver Garter. Brothels always seem to have such campy names. Her car lights went out as I pulled in beside her.

Mistress got out of her car and walked over to mine. She was dressed like a wet dream come to life. Knee high black leather boots, with net stockings framing her legs up to the hemline of a short, tight denim skirt. She had a black, shiny, halter-neck top on, and rather than being tight to her body it fell in folds of fabric which were one big tease – they looked like they might fall away to expose her breasts any second, but they never did. Her makeup was exactly as I love it, right down to the red lipstick outlined with a thin darker line. She saw the impact she had on me and smiled wickedly as she commanded me to follow.

I did so, my eyes on her wiggling ass and the curve of her hips, which were pronounced by her stride in the high heeled boots. Yum. I wanted to throw her to the ground and fuck her right there in the carpark. I guess that was kind of the idea. But why were we here, at a brothel, instead of fucking like animals back at her place?

Mistress led me through the front door. Apart from the soft lighting and the pornographic painting on the wall, the reception area might have been from a doctor's suite. Very clean, very classy. Behind the desk sat an early forty-something blonde, a little too brassy and a little too ripe. She smiled a cute-but-fake smiled at us both as we entered. "Well hello to you. Welcome to the Garter. How can I help?"

Mistress smiled back at her. "My name's Amanda. If you're Christine, we spoke on the phone earlier?"

Abruptly, the woman's fake smile became genuine as she looked at Mistress. The smile became a look of derision, though, as she half turned to me. "This must be your pathetic little bitch, then. Hello, little whore."

I flushed bright red. The idea of people knowing I am a slave always excites me, but I am never quite prepared for it when it happens. "Good evening, Maam," I mumbled softly through my blush. She laughed and turned back to Mistress. "If you'd like to follow me?"

Mistress followed the woman, snapping her fingers for me to follow too. We went down the hallway, past a number of closed doors, from behind one of which drifted the unmistakable sounds of sex. Eventually, Christine opened a door and ushered Mistress inside, closing the door behind them and leaving me standing in the hallway. What was going on inside? What was going to happen next? As always, the mystery was killing me, and as always, I loved it.

After a couple of minutes, Christine emerged alone and looked at me, not bothering to hide her amusement. "You're to wait here, pussyslave, until your owner is ready for you."

My blush returned full force. "Yes Maam."

She laughed and wandered down the corridor, leaving me standing there alone, savoring the anticipation. Perhaps five minutes passed before the door finally opened. Mistress was still wearing the boots and stockings, but nothing else. Her breasts were bare, swinging gently as she moved ... and I could not see her pussy, because she wore her favorite strap-on harness, permanently hard dildo jutting obscenely out from her hips. "Come in here, slave," she said softly.

I entered and looked around the room. It was odd, almost like the bedroom of a motel suite, but somehow slightly tackier, as though nobody was ever expected to take in the details. I guess not too many customers did. It was perfect for us, though. The excitement of fucking somewhere nasty, like a brothel, but not somewhere too nasty. As always at the start of a session, I dropped to my knees to kiss her feet ... her boots, today. She allowed me to rise, then instructed me to undress. In short order I was naked, and kneeling before her again. "Now," she said, "I know you are a good little pussylicker. Show me whether you can be my good little cocksucker too."

My eyes widened a little. I leaned forward, opening my mouth, and she pressed her hips towards mine. I'd never thought much before about how to give head. I had never had the need. I decided to try to blow Mistress's cock in the way I like to be blown. I started with lots of little licks and kisses, over the tip of the dildo, up and down its shaft, occasionally sucking on the shaft sideways. For five minutes or so I teased and played with the vibe with my mouth, never yet sucking it. Mistress was obviously enjoying the show. Her hands cupped her breasts as her thumbs flicked her nipples. She kept up a regular patter of embarrassing but sexy comments ... "Oh, yes, slave, lick your Mistress's cock. Mmmm, just like that, little cocklicker."

When she decided it was time for me to get sucking, she ran her fingers through my hair then gripped, holding me tight. "Suck me, little bitch. Suck my cock. Think about where it's going next ... because you know where it's going next."

Oh, god, she was going to fuck my ass. I gave the tip of her cock one last lick then sank my mouth down over it, taking it in as far as I could. I stayed there for a moment, then began slowly moving my mouth up and down along the shaft, in and out, all the while thinking that in a matter of minutes this whole dildo would be working its way into my ass. I was going to get my ass fucked in a brothel. Fuck. My speed on the dildo increased with my excitement, until I was bobbing up and down on it very quickly. Mistress was into it too, thrusting her hips to fuck my face with the dildo. "Yesssss," she hissed.

I sucked her cock until my jaw was sore, and her hips drew backwards, pulling the rubberised dildo from my mouth. Mistress' breathing was deep, her eyes slightly unfocussed. She was clearly getting off on this situation something fierce. "Up on the bed now, slaveboy. On all fours, on the edge. You know the position."

I did indeed, and at her command I scampered onto the bed, on my hands and knees across the bed. I backed up slowly until my feet were off the edge, then leaned forward until my face rested on my hands. This, we knew from experience, lifted my ass nice and high, in just the right position for Mistress and her cock.

SLAP!!

Mistress swung her hand hard, leaving a handprint on my asscheek. As it faded, I felt the cold, wet sensation of lube being dribbled down my asscrack and over my anus. A lubed finger slowly but firmly penetrated me, moving slowly enough to give me a chance to adjust, yet quickly enough that I remained in distinct, erotic discomfort. It went in deep, then in deeper. Once Mistress' finger was fully inside me, she began working it in and out, slowly and gently at first, then more quickly and with more vigor. Another finger was added when my ass was ready. Not long afterwards, it was time for the main show.

I felt the dildo press against my entrance, demanding entry. It seemed impossible – the dildo was so much bigger than even two fingers. It always seemed impossible, yet it always worked eventually. The dildo pressed, and pressed, then suddenly the muscles of my ass gave, and the dildo slipped in, three or four inches going in easily. A few more moments and most of it was inside me.

"Fuck yes, you horny little bitch," breathed Mistress. Look at your ass taking that fake cock, swallowing it up. Now, big man, you're going to get your ass fucked by this petite little woman. Beg for it."

I began begging earnestly. "Please Mistress, please fuck my ass. Please take me. Please use me."

I must have begged nicely. She began to sway her hips, working the dildo in and out. As soon as she sensed I was ready, she began pumping in earnest. It was amazing, given the right preparation, what my ass could take. By the end she was really pounding me, and my begging had become a series of incoherent moans. Mistress grabbed my hips to pull me to her, forcing more and more cock inside me. "Two more minutes, whore," she said.

She pounded harder and harder, towards a crescendo. "One minute"

Finally, she called "Time" and whisked the strapon from my ass in one quick motion, leaving my ass gaping and empty. She threw the strapon to one side, harness and all, and sprang on to the bed beside me. "Fuck me now, slaveboy. I want that cock inside me, right now." She was flushed with arousal, suffused with sexual energy. I didn't need a second invitation and knelt between her legs, her ankles on my shoulders and my cock sinking deep inside her. She was so wet, so ready. "Hard, fast, right now," were her orders.

I went for it, really pounding her hard, the way she likes it. So aroused was Mistress, that she was almost immediately moving towards orgasm. I just had to hang on long enough to get her over the edge. Closer, and closer. Pounding. Rhythmic, regular, hard pounding. Nearly. Mistress' moans were high pitched and long. I knew she was right on the edge. I picked up the pace even more, giving it to her as hard as I dared, and suddenly she was there. She went stiff, then limp, moaning "fuck, fuck, fuck" over and over. My orgasm crashed through just a few moments after hers. I fucked her through it, then fell forwards, laying atop my Mistress and holding her, my cock still inside, our combined juices oozing from her.

It was a while before either of us felt like moving, but eventually we came back to reality. "You really are a good little brothel boy," said my Mistress. "We'll have to do this again." I smiled in response. We would do this and more – the only thing predictable about Mistress was that every fuck would be an adventure.