The Chase

Part One

Amanda was home from work. Another long, tiring day -- but it was Friday. Her day, or rather her night.

In her bedroom, she looked at herself critically in her full length mirror. An okay body, a nice face. She was neither tall nor short, slightly built, nice firm tits but nothing to write home about. Her business clothes made her look demure, not to say mousy. Quickly, she peeled them off. They had served their purpose, building her persona as an associate vice-president in a mid-size firm ... but she wanted (no, *required*) a new persona, for it was Friday...

Naked, she looked better. But she wanted better still, so she went to her "special drawer". First some white lacy panties. Next, a white satin garter belt, to hold up white fishnet stockings ... a bra to match. Lastly, a black leather mini skirt and a black lace up top. Already, her nipples were hardening in anticipation of the night to come...

Lastly, to the mirror for make-up. She took her time there. False eyelashes, makeup a little exaggerated -- but not *too* much. With black calf-length high heel boots, her transformation from "Amanda" to "Satin" was complete. She made sure that the strap of the garter was just visible below the hem of her mini, and then strode out the door... to hunt men, in her own special way.

Part Two

She always chose clubs and bars far from where she lived -- yet not out of walking range. That was just prudence. She had no intention of being recognized, of having her two personas exposed to the harsh light of day.

For, her enjoyment came from teasing men. Quite deliberately. To get them excited ... to see the hot need in their eyes ... to feel their erect hardness against her body ... and then to withdraw, to disappear, to refuse. Nothing felt finer or made her feel more alive and sexual.

Her Amanda persona scorned this sort of behavior. No doubt, there was some deep seated psychological reason for it, something about her fear of intimacy or feelings of inadequacy. Satin knew this, but simply did not care.

In this Friday's club, the music was painfully loud. It pounded into her, some kind of awful electro-funk with a steady thumping beat. The crowd was thick, bumping and grinding, so it was easy for Satin to work her particular magic. A Black man bumped up against her - she looked into his eyes, turned her back, and deliberately rubbed her tight leather clad butt across the front of his jeans. She smiled as she felt his organ hardening against her. She let him grind a bit, rubbing back enough so that he knew it was deliberate - then slipped quickly away into the crowd. Her last sight of him was his puzzled expression, looking around to spot her ... her nipples were painfully hard now.

She was working the crowd now, choosing targets - letting a hand brush her breast, or looking directly into men's eyes as she brushed her own (and slipping away). Then, for no reason she could explain, she felt uneasy. Someone was watching her in a different way than the others. Someone not deafened by music, or made blind by lust.

Scanning around, she soon spotted him. The Man (and it was in capitals in her mind), was standing alone at the bar, watching her. He had a cold, handsome face, totally expressionless, dressed quite formally (and for a club, oddly) in a suit and tie - but on him, it didn't look like business attire.

The challenge he posed intrigued Satin, very much. She disengaged from her latest admirer - who was trying to impress her with elaborate dancing moves - and drifted in his direction.

Part Three

On closer inspection, her impression of the Man was - he was dangerous. Not a man to cross, or for any of her usual tricks. He was big - at least six feet tall - and muscular, but not in a bulging way - more like hard all over. And poised, like a jungle cat. He was mature, but hard to guess his age -- it could have been anything between thirty five and fifty. She had his attention, but she didn't really know what that meant.

He examined her coldly while she went through the pretense of ordering a drink. Finally, unable to bear the lack of communication, she turned to him and blurted, "so...you like what you see?". Then, oddly, she blushed.

He sipped his drink, considering. Then he said, "what I see is an aimless young lady making a fool of herself. I saw your little tricks out there. You want to be chased, but not caught. You have yet to realize, it is not what you want that matters".

She had lots of pert rejoinders to the usual come-ons. But what could she say to that? She blushed again, lowering her eyes.

He said: "good. You are learning, but not yet enough. Your petty foolishness has to end. Come with me."

It was not a request, nor a suggestion. It was a command. Her heart hammering with fear and excitement, she followed him out of the club.

Part Four

Why was she doing this? Following this strange hard-looking man? She could not say. It made no sense, and yet it did.

They walked in silence trough dark deserted streets. Her fear and excitement growing with every step. She was already wet, and yet had no idea what to expect...

Finally, they came to a house. A very nice house, but dark and deserted. He opened the door, and gestured. After a brief hesitation, she followed him inside.

He led her through a neatly decorated hall up to a large bedroom - which looked oddly familiar. The presumption implied by that took her breath away. She stammered, "but mister, I don't even know your name or anything!". Even to her, her voice sounded scared, girlish.

He looked at her again, taking his time as he examined her from head to foot. Suddenly, she felt cheap, tawdry in her sexy outfit. Finally, he said, "you can call me 'Sir'. I will call you 'slut', or 'girl'. You may earn a better name later. Do you understand?".

That was too much. She opened her mouth to protest, to make a rejoinder, but he was not interested. His hands suddenly shot out, gripped her by her shoulders, pushed her down to her knees in front of him. She was so shocked, she did not resist.

Her face was level with his crotch, and while one hand twined in her long hair, the other unzipped his pants. His organ was outlined against his plain white underwear - semi-hard, it was very large. She knew that most men (whatever they may boast) had cocks that ranged from five to six inches -- his looked much bigger, and very thick.

Slowly, so that she could see, he freed his cock from its confines with his free hand. With the other, he pulled her head towards it. "Now, slut, is your first lesson. Suck it, and do a good job".

His organ looked monsterous close up - its glistening purplish head and prominent veins. Again she opened her mouth, to protest at this treatment. But he had been waiting for that, and pushed the bulbous salty-tasting head between her lipsticked lips.

A part of her thought, "just suck it - then, he'll let you go". A rebellious streak in her thought otherwise. Tentatively, she bit down.

Now, this is something she should have done hard or not at all. In an instant, she was held rigidly face-down over his lap on the bed.

Wearily, he sad: "I know that from time to time you will disobey. I expect it. But, you have to be taught the hard way not to play games. You have played the slut, and you *must be punished for it*.

While he talked, he pulled up her mini-skirt and exposed her panty-clad ass. She struggled, quite futilely. Then, he punctuated his last words with hard slaps on her tender white buttocks.

At first, she struggled and gritted her teeth. But the spanks got harder. A lot harder. They hurt. She was soon begging for him to stop - crying - pleading. She would be a good girl. She would do whatever he wanted. She was saying this out loud, with a lot of "please Sir", "I'll be good Sir" thrown in. He didn't stop, until, hanging her head in shame, she said "I am a slut Sir ... I will obey". Strangely, although her ass was now stinging and red, her panties were totally soaked with arousal - and she knew he knew it.

He let her up. Gratefully, she got on her knees in front of him. Once again, he presented his hard organ to her lips. This time, she opened her mouth wide, and took the salty tasting end in.

His throbbing dick filled her mouth totally. She swirled her tounge around the head, to give her Master (the brief spanking had established that much) as much pleasure as possible. She bobbed her head up and down, using her lips as a tight seal to give as much friction as she could. She could only cram a few inches in her hot wet mouth ... the rest she caressed with her hands, cupping his large hairy balls while his hard shaft plunged in and out between her now-willing lips.

Evidently it was not enough. His voice, now harsh with desire: "you thought you were so precious out there on the dance floor, teasing all of those guys. Really, you were just pathetic - playing at being a slut. This is the real thing, what you have always wanted - to be a dirty girl, totally servicing a man...".

Meanwhile, his hard hands kept pressing her head down farther on his rigid cock. "Take it in your throat girl ... all the way in. I am going to fuck your pretty face. And then, you will swallow my cum - or maybe I will pull out, and cum all over your face." Seeing her reaching between her legs, fondling herself, he said: "slut, you are not allowed any pleasure. Mine comes first. Always remember that". he looked down almost fondly at the sight of her - on her knees, her mouth full of his dick, her lips stretched around his shaft.

She tried to relax her throat, to let his cock in all the way, just like he wanted it. Slowly it slipped deeper and deeper in. Her lips were tight around the swollen base of his organ, his heavy balls smacking her chin as he rammed in in and out of her mouth ... but she had trouble breathing in that position, so reluctantly he pulled out.

Part Five

"Not very expert at cocksucking are you, slut? Well, here is something in which your inexperience will not interfere with my pleasure. Quite the reverse, as a matter of fact".

With that, he easily lifted her and flung her face-down on the bed. "Clutch that pillow to your face, and get on your knees" he ordered. She was still fully dressed - her untouched nipples aching with hardness, her unloved clit throbbing. She had never been so wet ... her panties now totally soaked ...

Behind her, she could hear him undressing. Not in haste, taking his time. At last, she thought, her sopping cunt would get what she so earnestly wanted.

At first, it seemed like that was the idea. He didn't bother to undress her - he just flipped her miniskirt up, exposing her still-red ass and thighs -- still clad in garter and stockings. For that matter, her high heeled boots were still on. He yanked her panties - hard - and ripped them right off her, leaving her totally exposed and vulnerable.

He paused again. "Now, you will probably try to fight again. That is fine, because you will lose. You must realize by now I have absolutely no interest in *your* pleasure. You are very simply my slave, to be used at my whim and desire. I am going to cure you of your dirty little games, of your petty teasings. The process will be painful for you, and pleasurable for me".

With that, she felt something wet and cold - against her anus! She jumped up, or rather tried to. He was ready for that, expected it. A strong arm held her down, while he again spanked her - slow and hard, on her bare ass. "Oh god - please, not that - it'll hurt - have mercy! Fuck my cunt, oh please Sir! Master!" she blubbered. She was begging him, but her body was obeying - she got back into position, her naked ass in the air, her face thrust in the pillow, while he efficiently lubricated her tight asshole.

"It is really very simple", he said, over her begging and pleading, "I wish to fuck you this way because it is the most humiliating for you. The pain is a mere bonus. I want to totally use your body, reduce you to my absolute slave. Which is what you crave, don't you?" To her surprise, she found herself agreeing inside -- she indeed craved this humiliation, this degradation, and the fact that he *knew* it made her feel totally sluttish and sexy...

At last, she felt him gripping her hips as he positioned himself behind her ... his hard cockhead posed, nudging up against her little hole. He begin to slowly rub it in against her ... in and out, each time making just a little more progress, opening her up to the ultimate invasion. Involuntarily, she tightened up, denying his entry ... he reached underneath her, and with practiced ease tweaked her throbbing wet clit. At his unexpected touch, she almost came - and relaxed her ass for just long enough for him to thrust himself inside.

His cockhead hurt, but not unbearably - the indignity of the position was worse. Here she was, panting like a bitch in heat while a strange man fucked her asshole. It went in, deeper and deeper into her tight hot hole, while he continued to tease and tantalize her clit ... she was crying and moaning at the same time as the shaft sunk into her, with a combination of pain, humiliation and pleasure stronger than any she had ever known.

It was in all the way - deep inside her, she could feel the pressure of it. He began to fuck her, slowly at first, then harder and harder as his excitement grew. His rigid shaft plunged in and out of her tight hot anus, as he grunted with the effort. She hung her head in shame. She was now totally his slut, being completely used for his pleasure.

"Oh Sir, Master, I'm going to come" she panted, and indeed she was on the brink. "So am I girl" he said, plunging harder and harder - and with a last thrust it was over -- she reached underneath and cupped his heavy balls as he spurted deep inside her. And with that, she came as well, moaning into her pillow...

Part Six

They showered together - she totally naked at last - and she tenderly washed and dried him first, her Master, before attending to herself. And with that, the session was over.

They both slipped back into their original identities. "Well", she said as Amanda, "we have sure made a mess of the bedroom". And it was true. Opening her "special drawer" - as she had so many hours ago - she carefully replaced those of her clothes as were clean. The rest went into her laundry hamper - hidden, as always on these occasions, in the closet.

He, no longer "Sir" or "Master", ruefully examined her underwear. "Well, it looks like I'll have to buy you a new pair Amanda - these are totally ruined". She laughed and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Babe, it was worth it -- for our Fridays".

"Where shall we meet next time?" he asked; she said, "don't forget, its my choice now - I get to be "Mistress" next Friday". "I'm looking forward to it -- it's hard for me to stay in role, babe. You" he said, waving a mock finger, "are a most demanding woman, Amanda!".

The end...