To Protect and Serve Ch. 01

'This is so not good for my back,' she thought. She felt a slap on her ass, and noticed that Shane was looking at her expectantly. This was another moment where she would be blushing if she could. Her jaw started moving but sound was strangely absent. He raised his hand again --

"Women," she whispered heatedly. "I want to be with . . . dominated by a woman. Or multiple women. Multiple people, public places." Then the flood came. Acknowledging the path of being a sexual being had been hard. That night, she had taken the first step down the path. Now, she was drawing Shane a topographical map.

Shane was suppressing a grin. It was like he and his household had won the sex dreams lottery. Then he wondered if she'd ever really been happy. "I want you to be honest," he said when she finally ran out of ideas. "Why haven't you ever indulged yourself? Keeping all your desires in and pretending they aren't there . . . none of it is healthy."

She looked away. She knew she probably shouldn't, but this wasn't what she had thought would happen. She knew what she should say, but also had a pretty good idea how he'd react. She felt a sting on her exposed ass.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that I'd already starting body-building by the time I started having . . . fantasies like that. It was hard making friends as it was. I . . . I saw how the . . . easier, I guess? I saw how they got treated. I was enough of a freak already. I just figured that it all had to be a phase. I'd date normally, meet a nice guy, get married, maybe have kids some day. What was weird was that I never really wanted to have children. I just --" She stopped. His hand reached past her vision, grabbing her chin and pulling it towards him.

"You just wanted to fit in," he said, running a hand along her concaved stomach until it was between her spread thighs, and he somewhat gently fingered her sex, rubbing his palm on her large, sensitive clit. "You do fit in here," he said. "And anyone who wouldn't accept you for who you are is a fool. I never want you to be ashamed to admit what you want."

He watched in amusement as a drop of dripping wax reached the rim of her asshole and made her chew on her bottom lip. She was loving that part of the game. He pulled the candle out of her asshole and dripped some onto her breasts and nipples. He thought she was going to orgasm right there on the spot. He stood up. He had an idea of what he was working with, and now it was time to enjoy himself. Time to make her enjoy herself as well. He pulled the other candle out and tossed both of them aside. Slowly he peeled all the excess wax droppings off of her skin.

"Now," he said, "I want you to tell me you want this," he murmured, placing the head of his again-rigid cock on the lips of her sex.

"I want it, Sir," she said, trying to swing closer by shifting her body weight. "Please?" Her body was burning in a need for release.

"I'll fuck you right now," he said, "if you promise not to hold back anymore. Any fantasy that crosses that sick and twisted little slutty mind of yours, you tell me. Promise?"

"I promise," she moaned, both ashamed and excited by her own desperation.

He thrust into her. 'Damn she's tight!' he thought. She was folded in half, so she was able to look between her legs as he slowly started fucking her. He put one hand in front of him, teasing her clit with his fingers.

"Sir!," Shamira said after just a few seconds, "I think I'm going to . . . I mean permission to --"

"Go ahead and cum," he said, rolling his eyes and trying not to smile. She must have been going without for a while. Or she was as horny as he hoped she was.

It started at the very tip of her head, like it was just rushing downhill for a really big jump. When the tingly sensation deep in her body hit the edge of the chasm, she went completely over the edge. She was actually gripping the bard she was cuffed to so hard that Shane swore he heard the metal bending under her fingers. Her eyes were desperate and wild as her pussy clenched and her cum actually shot out.

Shane kept pumping through the increased pressure, but damn if he didn't want to just stop and admire the view. This was a bodybuilder, and every muscle she had as straining and taut and utterly magnificent. Her mouth was open in a mockery of the heavy breathing she was no longer capable of, but that mouth was also smiling.

"You ruined my slacks," he said sternly, looking at the wetness that was covering the front.

"I'm suh . . . sorry Sir," she stammered, "but that's never happened before."

He pulled out, stuck his fingers in her still-wet opening and then traced the outline of her abdominal muscles with them. "You've never had a wet orgasm during sex before?"

"I've never . . . had any orgasm during sex before."

He was actually shocked. "Never? Shamira, the men, and I call them that only loosely, in your life before were woefully inadequate. He walked away, and she craned her neck to see where he had gone. He returned back, rubbing some kind of lubricant onto his cock. He'd ditched the slacks, and damn did he look good. "The men in this house will not be so impotent." He smiled slightly. "Neither will the women. You have developed quite a bit of interest since your arrival," he added, pressing the head of his member against her asshole. "I doubt that you will have much 'free' time for a while."

'Sweet Heaven, he's actually going to --' Her brain turned off when he pushed himself into her (mostly) virgin ass. This was a high-pressure, aching kind of pain. Her eyes glazed over as he penetrated that last orifice, leaving nothing of her untouched by him. Hell, he'd even penetrated her soul when he brought her over. She hadn't remembered that. She would definitely remember this.

It was a matter of pure will that Shane didn't explode instantly upon full insertion. Everything about this woman's body was tight. He began his retraction, watching her face for that moment when she relaxed. "Relax," he crooned, then swatted one of her reddened breasts, followed by a firm tug on the nipple. "This would all be so much easier if you would just admit what you are."

"What am I, Sir?"

"A fuck machine," he told her. "Self-built to withstand and provide the most erotic of sensations. Pleasure and pain." He felt the relaxation happen, and he drove himself deep into her anal passage. "I want you to repeat the following as I do this." He pulled out and pressed back in, fingering her pussy while he did so. He worked her with two fingers, sliding them in and curling them. He had centuries of practice in making both women and men crave him, and Shamira was a woman who had been starving for attention.

She had eaten well at his table that night, and he had so much more to feed her. He withdrew his finger and again placed them in her mouth. She was grunting pleasurably as she sucked her juices from them, much more enthusiastically this time. "I want you to say, 'I am a whore.' And say it like you mean it because if I doubt your sincerity, I'll stop."

"I'm a whore," she said. Or at least she wanted to be. "I'm a whore."

"Look at me when you do that," he ordered her, dipping his fingers again into her sex before returning them to her hungry mouth and tongue. She liked her own taste. The next time he fingered her, he brought some of her sweet juices to his own lips. 'Why shouldn't she like it?' he thought. 'Mouthwatering.' He thrust three fingers into her pussy and started rubbing her sensitive clit with his thumb. All the time, she never stopped muttering the "I'm a whore" mantra that he had infused in her. Forcing her to look in his eyes meant she couldn't hide from him. He needed to know if she started to doubt herself.

She started her second orgasm which, if anything, seemed to have built in intensity from the last one. She was begging for permission to cum at the same time it was happening, but he was lost in a climax of his own. His cock pulsed and spewed forth, filling her with his warmth.

Shamira was tired. She'd never been tired after sex, though her partners had sometimes fallen asleep quickly. Her body ached, and she relished each twinge. She basked in what she had participated in, because she had never experienced something so . . . completing. Yes, so completing in her life. And the way he looked at her, stern but proud.

"I'm a whore," she whispered one last time.

"Yes," he replied, feeling his now sensitive shaft soften inside her. He pulled out, knelt beside her and kissed her as fiercely as he knew how. "You are," he whispered directing into her mouth.

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To be continued . . .