High Heels and a Pretty Smile Ch. 04

At his Mercy

Stuart had been a revelation sexually. I would be forty on my next birthday and I wasn't the most experienced woman. Married at nineteen to someone who thought sex was something you did in the dark to make babies, I'd missed out on a lot. Most of my knowledge beyond the basic deed came from watching porn and playing with myself. Even my university days had been juggled with pregnancy and birth.

Other than James there had only been Stuart. My boss. A man I'd been attracted to as soon as I'd met him. He was what you called the strong silent type. He didn't speak unnecessarily and when he did he gave very little away about himself.

He was good-looking. Not handsome and muscular. Just good looking. And there was a deep intelligence behind his eyes. The kind of man every woman hoped to have for a husband. And his apparent secrecy just made him a little mysterious and more attractive to me.

I'd virtually thrown myself at him after taking up a position at his practice, and to my shame, I'd become the office fuck buddy. Someone who happily let my boss fuck me over the desk whenever he wanted. Actually, that's not quite right. I felt no shame. I fucking loved it.

The first time had been when he locked the door during a note-swapping. I still remembered the rush of anxiety as I looked up to see him approaching me. There was no question about what he wanted and in a moment of what seemed madness in retrospect, I'd taken his cock from his trousers and sucked it.

Just a calm, pleasant experience of me seated and gently blowing him. And after, he'd bent me over the desk and fucked me like James never had. From then on in, I'd been a tingling whore every time I'd laid eyes on him, and desperately hooked to my cellphone waiting for him to call.

In a marriage that offered little else I was a willing ho. A hussy that went to him whenever he asked after that day. All the while wishing it'd be more often but always fearful of rejection if I demanded more. In the last year of marriage, it'd been my only source of real satisfaction. Everything else being just the product of my imagination and a few toys.

Once James had left me I'd taken my chance and presented myself to Stuart as permanently available. I hadn't asked for anything in return. Just the sex. His cock inside was all I wanted.

He talked about dominance and submission so often that I'd played at being the dominatrix the first time he'd come to my home. Only to discover he was so much better in the role than I was.

I'd shown him my kinks, even ones that'd existed only in my head until then. That was most of them, to be honest. All learnt from watching far too much porn. To my delight, Stuart had embraced and surpassed everyone. He'd proven to be something I didn't know existed.

Stuart's appetite for sex was unending. Where I thought a man shot his load and fell asleep, Stuart had been a machine. He had almost no limit. Even when his balls were dry his cock would be hard and his mind still obsessed with punishing my pussy to ruin. And I opened my legs willingly for it.

Stuart was a gift from the gods after such an abysmal love life. And there was nothing I wouldn't do to please him. No embarrassment I wouldn't endure.

And that was how I'd come to this moment. A nearing middle-aged mother exposing her most intimate reactions to his watching eyes as my Sybian sex toy took me towards orgasm.

I'd ridden this thing many times before, always in private. And generally to the disgust of my ex-husband who never grasped that it was his failings that'd forced the purchase. Of course, he'd never seen me use it. That had remained something behind a closed door while he was out of the house. But he'd known it existed. It was a pretty big thing to hide.

Today things were different. Stuart had asked and I'd been unable to deny him. So there I was with my hands cuffed behind my back and Stuart sat in a tub chair watching me entertain him.

"Aw. Fuck."

I was riding the G-egg attachment with the dial turned halfway. Basically, a nobbled, egg-shaped ball filling my pussy with vibrations, while the ribbed pad supplied similar to my outer bits. At this setting, it was a steady enjoyment that made me groan and wriggle while a tingle raced over my naked skin like static. It felt like being held at the edge of a deep drop. The anticipation and longing, but never quite taking the step into oblivion.

Foolishly I'd left Stuart with the controller and in the back of my mind, I was prepared for him to try out full throttle. I knew from experience that would send me into instant insanity. A mind-blowing orgasm in seconds that would leave me screaming so loud I'd drown out the noise of the machine itself.

For the moment though, he seemed content on watching me squirming with my tits swaying and sweat dripping down my body. If my hands had been free I would be clasping them. But restrained I had no choice other than to let my flesh dance for his entertainment and suffer the torment of nipples aching to be abused.

"How does it feel?" He asked.

"Fucking amazing.

Uhh

It always does."

I saw the twitch of mischief at the corners of Stuart's mouth and instantly prepared myself as he turned the dial.

"Fuck. Fuck."

My senses were overwhelmed in an instant and I hung on for the ride. Fire and pressure built in my groin until release came with the irresistible explosive power of a broken fire hydrant.

"Holy fucking...

Uhh."

I came with a viciousness that left me a shivering wreck held up only by the implement delivering its torture deep in my pussy.

I launched myself from the machine to escape it and fell in a crumpled mess at its side. In the corner of my eye, I saw Stuart stand and begin to remove his tie.

"I feel like that might be a hard act to follow." He said.

"I know you." I was still struggling to breathe evenly.

"It's early. You're gonna deliver even worse."

"Worse?"

I grinned.

A few months ago I'd have been happy with that orgasm. Indeed I still was. But that wouldn't stop the human sex machine I'd chosen as my lover from hammering my pussy until it was raw.

I'd learnt during our snatched moments at the office how Stuart could keep his cock hard for ages. Since having the comfort of time using my home allowed us, I'd discovered it could stay hard for an eternity. It had to be some kind of genetic trait. It certainly wasn't normal. But nor was it unwanted.

And as I raced to control my ragged breathing I could see him calmly removing his clothing. He was taking his time to put his garments neatly on the chair. A purposeful act to give my mind time to grasp what was coming.

He pulled me to my knees and his cock was in my face. It danced and twitched, trying to escape my hovering mouth. A beautiful, powerful thing that served to remind me of all the years I'd made do with such a poor specimen.

I gave sniggering grunts as I followed it.

"That's so big. Hold still so I can taste it."

"It kind of does its own thing."

My mouth watered as I put my tongue to it. It was bliss to slide around his crown. I loved cock in my mouth. I always had. I felt in control. My man reliant on me for pleasure that I could provide or deny at a whim.

With James, it'd generally been only a short thing I did before he fucked me. Or to finish him off. Far more pleasurable to me than it was for him. At least we had back in the early days when sex was... I was going to say important to him. But with hindsight, I wasn't sure it had been. Just relief.

With Stuart it was different. He positively savoured it. He was in an alternative world when he had his cock between my lips and time meant nothing to him. The sucking and licking was something I found myself doing for ages and today was no different.

My jaw was aching by the time he came. What seemed an inhuman amount of creamy, warm goo streamed onto my tongue and dribbled into my throat.

"Mmm."

I swirled my tongue around his crown, delighting at its pleasurable final throbs. I let him slip from my mouth and making eye contact to be sure he was watching I swallowed his cream before my expanding grin gave it an escape down my chin.

"Delicious."

On the rare occasions my boring husband had used my mouth in our later years he'd been satisfied with relieving himself. Then more than happy to leave me to finish myself as he selfishly turned away to sleep. Just another step in our declining sex life. For years I'd tried to convince myself to accept that as normal, even though I knew it wasn't.

It was different now. With Stuart sex was to be savoured. This was just his warm-up act. Now would come hours of fucking me. And with my hands still restrained behind my back I would take it all. I wouldn't be given a choice.

"Stand up." He commanded.

I did as he said, eager to have the pleasure revisited on me. I quivered as Stuart's hands caressed my legs. A slow worship of my flesh beginning at my ankles and working upwards.

"Uhh."

I was helpless to his touch once his fingers tickled the insides of my thighs. He went higher while his eyes stared up, watching the reactions painted across my face. I shuddered, making my tits jiggle.

"Oh fuck."

Stuart had reached my pussy. Still sensitive from the fucking the Sybian had given it, I became a trembling leaf struggling to stay standing.

I stood with my legs apart as he finger fucked and licked me. Slow. Relentless. I could hear it and smell myself. All of my senses were consumed by this simple act.

"Uhhh."

"You taste delicious."

Never in my life had James savoured my flesh how Stuart did. Fingers caressed my inner meat and his tongue toyed with my clit, holding it to a flame that burned without quite consuming its fuel in a crashing fire.

"Oh, my god."

I didn't want this moment to end and for an age, I hovered at the point of orgasm without quite cuming. But then I did.

"Aw, my fucking god."

Stuart caught my falling figure as I lost control of my body. A hand hooked under my still restrained arm stopped me from reaching the floor and I found myself thrown face down on the bed.

"Please." I begged, unsure if it was for it to end, or for more.

Stuart was on top of me. A hand across my neck held me down as his body forced my legs open.

His cock pressed at my ass, breaking through my barrier. Like an iron rod, it speared me, pressing deep into my passage. I cried out in pain.

"Fucking... uhh."

Stuart fucked my butt like it was his personal toy. I was just meat. A helpless victim pinned down and rutted like a female animal in the wild. It was fucking glorious.

I came again. A moment of delirious joy where I lost all sense of reality. An out-of-body experience so intense that when sanity returned it took a moment for me to orientated myself.

I was on my back with my legs spread. Stuart was pounding my pussy while gripping me firmly by the throat. Again I felt myself on that track with only one ending. With my hands cuffed behind my back I still had no active participation. Just acceptance.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

This time Stuart came before me. His warm cum eased the friction of my sore hole and tipped me once more into a primal fog of random neuronal firings in my brain.

The next thing I was aware of was the ceiling. And the clammy damp I was laying in.

"That was fucking amazing." I gasped.

My lungs hurt and my heart still felt as though it would burst.

"I can't think straight."

Slowly I became aware of my hands still trapped behind my back. Such a simple method of restraint, and yet without the use of my arms I was helpless. A little frightening. And a little arousing. I thought about asking him to release me but then I knew he would be on me again in a minute and I liked the feeling of being unable to restrain him. I liked being ravaged beyond my ability to cope with no way to stop him.

Unpicking the Mystery

It was Wednesday before I caught up with Stuart at the practice. Long enough that I'd recovered from the weekend enough to walk properly. I wasn't looking for sex, we didn't have long enough before my next client. Just a coffee and a chat.

"You haven't told me about your past relationships. How come you've never married?"

Stuart laughed at my probing.

"What's funny?

Not many people reach their forties without some kind of long-term relationship. Especially when they're... like you. In bed."

I blushed a little at my praising him.

"I've had lots of relationships. None of them were the marriage kinds."

"What kind are they?"

"Sex. Just sex."

I was intrigued.

"Care to elaborate?"

He looked uncomfortable. I'd never seen that in him before. Secrecy yes, but not discomfort. I wondered what he might be hiding.

"Girls for sex. Nothing else." He said.

I tried to work out what he might mean by that.

"That sounds like you pay for it."

I laughed to make a joke of it.

"Not exactly."

Did that mean he did?

"Why would someone with your... skills need to pay for sex? I don't understand."

"I like a certain kind of sex."

"Are you saying what we do isn't what you want?"

Now I was worried. I couldn't imagine what we did wasn't satisfying for him. That I didn't...

"I'm not good enough am I?"

I blurted out with disappointment. Perhaps it was me. I wasn't what men wanted.

"Yes, you are. You're amazing." He snapped to smack down my doubts.

"You're a fantastic fuck. And a lovely person.

But I have a kink that a professional, career woman can't meet fully. Great as it is, I need someone less... of their own mind."

I shook my head in bemusement.

"I've no idea what you're trying to say."

"You're a psychologist. You understand domination and submission."

He waited expectantly for me to comprehend what he was telling me.

"How many times have the two come up in sessions?"

"You... want a submissive girl? I'm letting you tie me up and do as you please. How is that not being submissive?"

"It's okay. But you set the parameters. You still retain the right to say no. What I need is... total domination. I need to own a girl. To remove that sense she can stop me. To control her every thought. Can you imagine being a slave? A prisoner? Someone who lives only to please my cock?"

"I was married for nearly twenty years. I think I know what being a prisoner feels like."

"Not my kind of prisoner. You could have walked out on your marriage any time you chose. Refused sex.

What if I told you I wanted to lock you in my home and have you naked? Permanently naked. No clothes at all. Ever. And that every waking moment your sole task was to be available for me to fuck. Imagine not having a job. Not ever going out. Just existing for me to abuse as I wished. No right to say no or any influence over how I fucked you?"

There was a seriousness in his eyes I hadn't expected. I gave a nervous laugh.

"No one would go that far."

"Some do."

I could see he meant it and I began to realise this was more than some fantasy.

"You've done that to someone haven't you?"

"More than one."

"And you want to do that to me?"

"I know I can't. You're not that kind of person."

"I could play at it. At weekends if that's what you want?"

He shook his head.

"And that's what it'd be. Play. Not the same."

He took a deep breath.

"I can't describe it exactly. It's a game and not a game. I can only feel that it's real when I have total dominance. When a girl is fully committed and dependent on me for her existence."

"You know that sounds a little frightening. I'd diagnose psychopathic tendencies if you were my patient. Sociopathic at the very least.

"It should be frightening. Fear drives libido. You know that.

Now don't misunderstand me. I've never hurt anyone and I never would. But that slight doubt in a girl's mind. That realisation that they've voluntarily delivered themselves into a situation where I could hurt them is the most arousing thing imaginable. For both parties."

"Jesus. That's heavy stuff.

I think you might need to book a session with me."

"I've thought about it." He laughed.

"And I'd love to meet one of these girls. It'd be fascinating to understand what drives that kind of submission willingly."

There was a knock at the door and I sat back taking on my professional persona. The new girl came in at Stuart's beckoning.

"I just need a few signatures if that's okay?"

She gave me an acknowledging smile as she placed a folder on his desk.

Rosie had only recently joined the Practice. A young girl who'd just left Uni with a degree in psychology. Stuart had offered her a clerical position with an opportunity to further her training and gain some practical experience. I think she'd attended one of his lectures and caught his eye somehow.

As I waited for Stuart I glanced her over and wondered if he'd been enamoured with her academic achievements, or her svelte little body and the rich red hair that hung over her shoulders. Perhaps that hint of freckles that lay almost hidden under her makeup. She was amazingly pretty and for a moment I felt a pang of jealousy.

"Come to mine on Friday." He said when we were alone again.

"I'll show you a little of the secrets I keep hidden away."

I forgot Rosie as my curiosity was suddenly pricked.

That Friday was my first view of Stuart's home. Instead of mine, we'd driven to his as he'd promised. A bachelor pad if ever I saw one. All modern, glass and concrete with expensive fittings. I noted it was devoid of the female touch. No photos or ornaments. Just practicality. Luxurious, but sort of sterile. Like a show house.

"Fancy." I said sounding approving.

It was a nice house. There was no doubt about that.

"I'd have liked something closer to the ocean. A private beach. But it's okay. I like it here. No close neighbours."

He handed me a glass of wine, his fingers purposefully brushing the back of my hand as I took it. My mind came back to why I was there.

"So, are we playing your game? Am I your little toy for the weekend?"

I teased him, sipping my drink. It was fruity. Just how I was feeling.

"You want to be?"

"It'd be different. I should have brought my cuffs. But I'm sure you can find something to tie me up with."

I smiled with my eyes firmly secured on him. I wanted him to know I didn't want his best behaviour. I wanted dirty sex.

"You want to experience everything I can deliver to your pussy no matter how much you scream?"

His eyes held me. A challenging stare that reached deep into my psyche and tweaked me physically in the pit of my stomach. It was a kind of needy warmth that spread through me like a virus. I could feel the warmth in my panties as they soaked in my juices.

No. He wasn't going to be a gentleman. He was as keen as I was to keep it exciting.

"Yeah.

Yeah. Okay."

His demeanour changed. He became stronger. More commanding.

"Then call me Master."

I grinned.

"Really?"

It seemed silly. Stuart looked serious.

"Call me Master and tell me how much you want to be fucked."

I fought back a snigger.

"I want to be fucked, Master.

I want you to fuck me good and hard all weekend Master."

I swayed my body seductively and took a step closer.

"Good.

Now take your clothes off. All of them."

I was sniggering as I stripped. Each exposed piece of my flesh sent more tingles of excitement racing up my spine. Stuart just watched. I'd assumed he would take his own clothing off but I was realising that wasn't his immediate aim in the game.

No. He wanted me to be submissive. To be the definitive little slave he'd described in his office earlier in the week. I could do that.

I stood expectantly as he examined me from his seat. My hands absentmindedly flicking to cover my tits or pussy with nervousness before exposing them again. He'd seen it all before but there was something embarrassing about being studied like a specimen under a microscope. I wasn't my daughter with a perfect youthful body. I was a mother. I had hips I thought a little wide, a roundness of my belly and full tits I checked every time I took my clothes off in fear that they would head south. I thought I was still hot for someone about to hit forty. But I wasn't a teenager.