Morzhay Cosmetics

I climbed off the chair and she sat up, reached behind her and unfastened the gold chain from her neck.

“I have particular tastes when it comes to sex,” she said, her lips still glistening from my dick. “Not all men have what it takes to satisfy me. I like a man who is secure in his masculinity. Very secure…”

Sounds good to me, I thought.

“So secure he can surrender it when needed.” she smiled again, dangling the chain from her hand. “I think you’re up to it.”

She got up from the chair and went to her desk, put the chain on top of it and unlocked a drawer and began to rummage around in it, looking for something.

“Take off your clothes and come over here.” she said. “Let’s see if you have what I’m looking for.”

I did as she said, shucking off my remaining clothes and throwing them on a chair.

“Now turn around” she said. “I’m going to handcuff you. Do you have any problems with that?”

I cleared my throat. “No.” I said. What the hell.

“Good.” she took my hands and brought them behind me, and I felt the cold metal of the cuffs as she locked them behind my back. “Don’t worry.” she said. “I won’t hurt you. Not too much. But be good and I think you’ll find it’s worth it.”

With the cuffs attached she pressed her body against mine, her mouth to my ear, her warm hand closed around my cock. “Did you like what I did to you in the chair?” she asked in a low whisper, running her tongue around my ear. “Well that’s just a sample of what I can do for you if you behave. But Lilah must have her way. Can you handle that?”

“Yes.” I said again. Then, suddenly falling into the spirit of the game, I said. “Shall I call you Mistress?”

She stepped back so I could see her face suddenly open into a broad grin as she realized that I knew what she was doing. “Yes, you may.” she said, trying to repress her smile but not entirely succeeding. “Yes you may. But you are only to address me when I give you permission, is that understood?”

“Yes Mistress.” I said.

“Good. I can see that you are a good boy. Your safe word is three short, three long and three short, but use it only when you absolutely must, because that will end our session, perhaps forever. I am not excessively cruel, no more than I have to be. But I will have my way. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress, I do.”

She grinned again. “Good, Rob. Very good. I’ve found that most men have too much of the beast in them for my tastes. They have no control, no finesse. They must be taught to give pleasure, not just to take it. Don’t you agree, Rob?”

“Yes Mistress, I do.”

“One more thing. I may invite my secretary to join us to record our session. I like to record my sessions. It’s a good way to keep track of our training, and I like to watch men make love to me. So she may come in to tape our activities, or perhaps to get involved herself. But you are not to touch her, or even look at her, without my permission, understand?

“Yes, Mistress.”

Jen? Recording our session? The thought hit me like a hammer. If it were humanly possible to get any harder than I already was, I would have. Of course! They were lovers! I knew that Jen was Morzhay’s right-hand girl, always anticipating Lilah’s every whim, and that she was a member of the inner circle, but I’d just assumed she was there in her capacity as secretary. Now I knew there was a lot more to their relationship. Could I be so lucky as to possibly have both of them? Or—almost better—would they make love to each other in front of me? Hell, she can tie my ears to my elbows and whip me fucking raw if I could just get to watch those two gorgeous cunts go at each other!

As I was engaged in these lofty thoughts and trying to keep myself from creaming all over her teakwood desk, Lilah was strolling around me and coolly appraising what she saw. She picked up her chain from her desk and stretched between her hands. “You little fuck!” she said. “I know what you’re thinking, and don’t you fucking dare!”

With that she lashed out, whipping the chain expertly against my chest. It stung like hell, but she didn’t break the skin. I knew she could have had she wanted to.

“Jennifer is my property.” she said coldly. “Everything here is my property. You don’t even think about her with my permission! Or I swear I’ll beat you till you can’t walk! I’ll leave you standing there while I have her suck me off right here in front of you, while you can’t do a fucking thing! How would you like that; us coming in front of you and you couldn’t even grab your little pickle for relief! Male bastard!”

Well, she certainly was in tune with my thoughts.

“You look so ridiculous, all naked with your little boner sticking out.” she said as she slowly wrapped the chain around my cock. She arranged it so that it was like a collar and leash, then she used it to pull me away from her desk. I had no choice but to shuffle after her.

“Now stay there.” she said.

She turned her back to me and unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it. She wore white silk bikini panties which she’d put on over her garter belt, a sure sign that she’d dressed with sex in mind. The panties molded to the globes of her ass like a second skin, and were in stark contrast to the black stockings and garter belt she wore, decorated with tiny red bows. She unbuttoned her blouse and slid it off her arms, letting me see the fawn-colored bra I had only felt before. As she undressed she folded her clothes casually but with attention and draped them over the arm of the chair.

She turned back and gave me a good profile shot, knowing exactly what she was doing as she showed off her long legs, her tight, shapely ass, the curve of her back and proud thrust of her tits, all crowned by that coldly beautiful face. It was easy to see her as the world-class fashion model she once had been. She knew how to show off what she had and obviously liked doing so

I could also see what had driven her from the business: boobs like that were more than a model could afford. She’d just gotten too ripe, too womanly for modeling. But she just perfect for taking a big hard cock between those long legs and riding it to cream town, if you’ll pardon the expression.

She let me see the entire package, even running her hands down her curves, gripping the crotch of her panties and using it to work herself off with, teasing herself, teasing me.

“So do you think you have what it takes, Robby?” she asked, arousing herself more. “You think you have what it takes to please me? Would you like to play with me?”

“Yes, Mistress.” I said, “Very much, Mistress.”

She cat-walked slowly over to me, her hips rolling in the exaggerated sexual gait of a runway model. She ran a hand through my hair, then grabbed it and pulled my head back and pushed me against a book case. She lifted a nylon clad leg and ran the inside of her thigh up and down my legs.

Her chain was still around my cock and starting to dig into the sensitive skin in a painful but not unpleasant way. I could feel myself seeping love lube already, could feel it drooling onto her stockinged leg as she toyed with me. No doubt she felt it too.

“Turn around.” she suddenly ordered, releasing my hair. “Face the wall and don’t look. You’re such a pig! I can’t stand the fucking sight of you!”

I did as she said. If the cost of all this was allowing her to get her rocks off on me, that was okay with me. And what the hell, I’ll admit that the thought of letting a self-assured bitch-goddess use me for her sexual toy wasn’t unappealing. As long as I got to blow my load in her general vicinity when the time came, she could do what she wanted with me.

I heard her leave the room and go back into her little bedroom, the sharp click of her stiletto heels where she crossed the uncarpeted margin of the room. She was gone only a moment before I heard her re-enter. I made sure I didn’t move.

“Hold still.” she said. She slipped a strap around my arms just above my elbows, cinched it tight, and buckled it, further immobilizing my arms.

“Lift your foot up” she commanded, and I raised my right foot, balancing precariously on my left as I felt her attach a leather cuff to my right ankle. Then she did the other ankle. She knelt down briefly and snapped a length of chain to the two ankle cuffs, then stood up.

Her soft hand rubbed my ass and she purred. “Whose ass is this, slave? Who owns this ass?”

“You do, Mistress.” I said.

“You’re damned right I do!” and with that I felt rather than saw her move behind me, and felt the lash of a whip burn across my behind. From the feel of it was some sort of cat. I gasped in surprise.

There is something truly shocking about being whipped. It’s not just the pain, but the violation of one’s body, the denial of respect, as if you’re no more than an animal. For a moment I was shocked and outraged. I knew it was just a sexual game, but I flushed with real anger.

She paused to gauge my reaction, then whipped me three more times, each one a little harder than the one before. It stung—I won’t say it didn’t—but it didn’t hurt as much as I’d anticipated.

Then her hand was back, sliding over my burning butt, stroking, soothing.

“Good little slave.” she said softly. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, Mistress.” I said. “Please may I have another?”

I didn’t have to see her to know she was smiling. I felt her lean back and she hit me 4,5,6 times, vicious strokes that burned and created a strange fire on the inside as well.

I realized then that the whip she was using was simply too soft and supple to really hurt me. It was like she was whipping me with a bunch of ribbons. They sounded ferocious, each stroke whistling through the air, but their effect was less than some birthday spankings I’d had. In some ways I was rather disappointed, though I wouldn’t think of saying so.

What was really thrilling, though, was the way Lilah’s excitement grew with each stroke of the whip. She was actually building herself up into a heated sexual frenzy as she whipped me again, and again, swearing and grunting as she wailed at my ass.

Immediately followed the final lash she pressed those big, firm tits against me, now damp with her hot perspiration, and began to hump my hips with her pelvis. She held the whip in her right hand and began feverishly clutching my ass while with her other hand she grabbed my cock which still was wrapped in her neck chain and began masturbating me. I felt her wetness through her sopping panties as she ground her cunt against me, panting hot in my ear. Her tongue probed me passionately and she moaned, “Such a big, strong man, aren’t we? And your little cock is so big and hard!”

She again stepped away from me and took up with the whip again. This time the strokes were slow, and hard. I could hear her grunt with exertion as each blows fell, and by glancing up and the blackened glass of the bookshelf I could see her reflection in the dim light. She had crazed, intense look on her face, and she reared her arm high behind her before bringing the whip down with all her strength against my ass.

This time it hurt, but the pain, combined with her grunts of effort, and the sight of her, the way her big breasts rolled and quivered on her chest with the exertion of each blow, all were combining to drive me crazy. Occasionally she missed, either intentionally or by accident, and the lashes curled around and bit into the tender flesh of my hip, and that hurt like hell. I let myself go and began to groan and yell with each stroke, and that just seemed to fire her up even more.

Finally she stopped. My ass was on fire now, no denying it. The room was thick with the smell of her perfume from her overheated body and with a feral, sexy funk that that was even more exciting. In the black glass I could see her stripping off her bra and stepping out of her limp panties, leaving only her dressed only in her black stockings and stiletto heels. The tears in my eyes were real, but they didn’t keep me from examining her intriguing mound, neatly trimmed to a small rectangle.

It had to be now, I thought, I can’t take anymore.

“Turn around, slave!” she ordered

I turned to see her smoothing her hair back from her sweaty forehead, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath from the exertion of the whipping. In the dim light of her office her skin shone with sweat, making her look all the more feline as she walked to her desk.

She stopped and placed a hand on her desk for balance as she skinned off her panties and dropped them to the floor. Then she reached behind her in that awkward show of elbows women use when they remove their bras, and the filmy garment slid off her arms as well.

She pressed the intercom button. “Jen, get your ass in here now!” she barked.

Then with one sweep of her arm she cleared the top of her teakwood desk, sending everything crashing to the floor, the desk lamp thudded and the bulb exploded in a flash of light, the phone fell and bounced, all her papers, the files she’d been working on, the blotter, her pen and pencil set, all leaded in a heap on the floor, and she kicked them aside with her gleaming black pump.

“Now come here!” she commanded.

I shuffled over to her, my ass aching, and held still as she put a leather collar around my neck, buckled it, and clipped a silver leash to it. She leaned up close to me and I could feel the heat of her body. Her breath was like fire on my lips. She yanked on the chain so that I was forced to look down into her gray eyes, now smoldering with lust and excitement..

“Good slave!” she said. “You’ve passed your first test. You’ve earned your little reward. Isn’t that exciting?”

I groaned again as I felt her fingers at my cock. She backed up towards her desk, pulling along by that chain around my cock. When she reached the desk she released me. She, wriggled her ass up on the desk, took hold of my neck chain, then raised her feet, hooking her heels over the edge of the desk and leaned back on her elbows.

Her ass was now positioned at the very edge of the desk, he knees spread, her heels hooked on either side. In one hand she held my neck chain, and in the other she still brandished the cat. I could see her neat triangle of trimmed pubic hair, and the dark, blood-engorged folds of her pussy before me. I prayed to what gods there might be to let me get my mouth on that exquisite muff, and my prayers were answered.

“I want you to eat me now.” she said. Her features were stern, her nostrils flared. “But I don’t want you to root around down there like a pig, like you men always do. You will caress me with your mouth, tenderly, like the sweet and delicate treasure that I am. Do you understand?”

She jerked my chain and my head lurched forward. “Yes, Mistress.” I said. “I’ll be most respectful.”

“See that you are!” she said.

I lowered my head to the task, extending my tongue but not yet touching her. For a moment I only breathed on her, noticing the way her smooth belly rose and fell with her excited breathing as she watched me.

I made tentative contact with the inside of her thigh, above the top of her stockings, where the flesh was softer than a newborn’s behind, and licked small circles towards her pussy, stopping at the seam where her leg joined her body, and licking softly—very softly—up and then down that seam. I then turned to the other thigh and did the same, and was rewarded as I felt her flesh jump beneath my tongue.

Then, rather than assault that beautiful pussy, I forced my face lower until I found the crease between buttock and back of thigh, and followed that up to her crack. Blowing and softly kissing, wiggling my tongue, I slid up her crack until my tongue reached her asshole, which I teased with my probing tongue.

I must have caught her by surprise, for her hips gave a convulsive jerk and she let out a gasp of surprise and pleasure. I flicked my eyes up to see her staring at me intently, her mouth open in pleasure, her eyes burning into me.

“Yesss!” she hissed. “Do that you little fuck! Suck my asshole! Lick me out!”

Her anus was delicious, dark and secret and feminine, puckered like a rose blossom and smelling faintly of her perfume. She dropped my neck chain and I felt her fingers tangle in my hair, pulled my face tighter into her ass, and grinding her behind hungrily against my face while I tried to get my tongue inside of her.

I heard Jen enter the office at this point, but I was really too far involved with Lilah’s ass to care. Jen approached the desk and stopped some feet away. She seemed to be busy with something, I really didn’t pay it too much attention. Lilah didn’t acknowledge her either. She just let go of my hair and grabbed her ankle, pulling it towards her to expose more of her bottom to my lips and tongue.

Teasing her, I slowly let my tongue wander across her sensitive peritoneal flesh between anus and vagina, stopping to kiss her there. My touch made her frantic, and she groaned loudly, then struck down at me with her whip, catching me across the shoulders.

“Do it, bastard!” she hissed. ”Eat me now! Eat that pussy!”

The whip startled me, but I knew I was getting to her. Her asshole and buttocks were now wet with my saliva, and she had partially rolled to one side, lifting a knee up to her chest to give me free access to her crotch. I tickled my tongue along her vulva, barely touching her while she panted and twisted her hips around, trying to force contact. The smell of her lust was hot in my nostrils and so intoxicating I almost lost it.

It was probably the chain on my dick that kept me from shooting right then and there. I felt the initial spasms of orgasm but the tight constriction of the chain frustrated any attempt to ejaculate, and I fought to regain control.

I couldn’t use my bound arms to spread Lilah’s lips, so I was forced to nuzzle and lick my way inside her, and my efforts seemed to excite her terribly. Despite what she’d said, I was now sucking and licking her exactly like a pig with his face in a bucket of slops, gulping down every mouthful of her steaming nectar as she fucked her cunt up against my working lips. I’m afraid I even might have made grunting, pig like sounds as I ate her out, but by now she was moaning and swearing and hissing between her teeth and didn’t seem to notice.

I finally used my nose to force her open and expose her clit, which I then swiped gently with my tongue, bringing sharp cries from her throat.

The whip crashed down on my back again, and again as I worked that little nubbin and she was obviously on the very verge of losing it when she again grabbed my hair and pulled my head away, crying, “Stop! Stop! You motherfucker! That’s enough! Stop!”

I raised my head. I knew my cheeks were shining with her juice, her tits were heaving with her excited breathing, her fierce eyes had a glassy sheen. They seemed to look at me without really seeing.

I noticed Jen standing about ten feet away. I recognized her coat, a long tan trench coat that she wore to the office most days, and shiny black boots with wicked heels. Her coat was open and I could see her naked flesh within. She seemed to be wearing some elaborate leather or vinyl harness; I could see the black straps and the glimmer of bright silver chains, but I couldn’t make out the entire outfit.

Before her stood a video camera on a tripod, aimed right at the desk, and apparently she had been filming what was going on between Lilah and I.

What really drew my attention, though, was the wild garish makeup Jen was wearing. I was used to seeing her in the subtle and sophisticated colors favored by Morzhay, but now she was made up like a whore, with greenish-silver eye shadow and brilliantly red and glistening lipstick.

Immediately I felt the sting of Lilah’s whip once more.

“Little prick!” she hissed. “I told you not to look! She’s none of your business! You are to keep your eyes and your thoughts focused only on me, do you understand? On me only!”