My Lips Are Sealed

"If you read the last few pages of that novel I'm reading, then who did it?"

"I wouldn't want to spoil it for you, pet. My lips are sealed."

"Then, how can I kiss you, sir?"

"Put your book down, spread your thighs and let me do the honours."

"If I put my book down then I will never know."

"Very well continue reading. I don't need your full attention."

She sat back on the couch, letting the book hang over the side in an idle hand, as she lent back to stare up at the wooden rafters, all the while spreading her body, just as he had demanded. She tried to separate herself from the unreality of him crouching down before her for a change and to consider the characters in her book. Who could have done it?

That separation proved less easy than she had hoped, for, as he pulled her skirts up, she recalled that there was nothing new about that. The kisses he applied to her splayed thighs brought the memories back and made her want to react to him. Such memories, recalled in the twinkling of an eye, but still less easy than the separation of her thighs, once he had slit her panties down one side with a sharper than usual paper knife and brusquely pulled them out from underneath her.

She would have exclaimed at that point, but decided that he would savour her silence more as he began to toy with her cleft. She was right. The rubbing of his fingers up and down the groove, in a repetitive, almost hypnotic motion brought out such slickness from her slit that it even surprised her. It was most satisfactory to be able to lean back and shape her mouth into the requisite 'O' so enamoured of aficionados of fellatio the world over, and to be able to utter a muted: "Oh my!"

He was ready for her reaction, looking up at her flushed face and gazing admiringly over her heaving bosom, seeking the arch remark to make her face flicker into a smile for his pleasure.

"My finger didn't penetrate that deeply already did it?" He queried, finding just the remark that he required and adding, as a neat but wicked afterthought: "Forgive it for being so impetuous!"

"You certainly know how to wake a girl up of a morning!" She mewled happily forgiving him instantaneously.

"It is time you were exercised, girl."

"I couldn't agree more, sir."

"A few guttural moans would contradict that last statement, girl, but could do you and my libido the world of good."

"Do I really need to flatter your libido, sir?"

"Is that task to bothersome for you?"

"No sir, but I do so wish to focus my attention on the very clever things you are doing with my cunt."

"Whose cunt?"

"Don't growl at me, sir. You make me think of a bear out of sorts having relinquished too many honey pots when you do that."

"Are you planning on relinquishing your couch and positioning yourself over my lap, so soon slut?" he smiled meaningfully, looking up from between her splayed thighs after three long, leisurely licks from anus to pubis.

"You are hardly discouraging your slut, sir."

"Would it so discourage her to be turned over to have at her from her favourite orientation, allowing her the opportunity to continue with her latest crime novel, while his tongue delved into her sex with something akin to criminal intent?"

"I am completely yours, master criminal that are, sir."

"You just want me for my tool box."

"I want you for the craft with which you jemmy me open, sir. Oooooooh! That was quite lovely sir. I feel quite like a lollipop with your tongue embedded in me like that."

"You can wait for the lollipop of my choice, girl."

"I can't so either, Mr Bear."

"You can't wait for a birching either, it seems."

"If you wish to birch me sir, then why should your cunt object?"

"My goodness: property with a sense of the rightness of things. Sometimes I feel as if I have managed to train you rather well, pet."

"That you have, but would you also mind favouring me a little?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"A little less talk and a little more lick if you please, sir."

"I wouldn't want you to be discomfited in any way," he responded wryly, looking at the tightness of her anal pucker and speculating on the last time it was pleasured, as he let his fingers play with the creases of her sex. He soothed away the anxieties of the past few days and rendered the traumas of her week, innocuous memories that might as well not have existed. However the pressing of his hand to her lower back did cause her to abandon any thoughts of her book and make her spread herself even more abundantly than before for his pleasure.

"I love being yours, sir."

"How should I take thee, let me count the ways?" He recited and began to toy with her, sliding two fingers into her soaked interior and swivelling them around to bring out the lightest of sighs.

"Why don't you cunt the ways instead, sir?" She suggested as with the softest of reactions, as she squeezed herself happily around his penetrating fingers. The fact that this tightening held his fingers to her was no vexation, since his thumb was well placed to stroke between her buttocks, making her keen softly, like the cat so close to getting the cream that she can practically taste it. She knew that he would be asking her to lick her juices from his fingers, before the day was very much older and before he bared his sex and plunged it full to the hilt to knock the breath out of her body in the most exuberant way that she could have thought possible.

"The question is," he determined, "will she be permitted to taste him before he presses his manhood to her wet cavern or will she just have to be content with sloppy seconds, once he had come abundantly into her vagina and needed a luxuriant tongue bath to complete his morning ablutions?"

"His will be done," she murmured.

But his will wasn't done yet, for she could feel it hardening and filling her mouth with its girth and with the taste of his arousal. Was there no limit to his unambiguous desire to nail his flag to her willing holes? Would her trembling thighs soon be sticky and warm with his seminal fluid as he jetted half within her and half withdrawn from her? Would he moisten the area around her rectum, so that once again all her treasures had been improperly plundered before the notion of breakfast entered her dizzy head and before she got so carried away that she forgot that to him, she was the most precious, valued and delightful woman that he had had all morning?

"Now reach behind and spread yourself, girl. I have a mind to penetrate your pussy and then to ravage your rear assiduously until you cry master," he added slapping her bottom and added reflectively: "since that is your purpose in the way of things."

He couldn't help but gaze at her flanks and seeing that they are comparatively unscarred from recent whippings, lent over her body and asked her: "has no one been looking after your needs, girl?"

"Why, no, Master. Her flesh is only for him to scar."

"A bite does not scar, girl," he responded, running a finger down her spine to feel each individual ridge. "And, a whip marks, but should seer the soul rather than the flesh when wielded properly."

"It is a manner of speaking, sir," she turned her head and grinned up at him. "I'd like to think of them as a form of scarring."

"And ... just what do you like to think of ... brutal ... penetration ... like...THIS," he panted, ramming into her cunt and pressing her face to the soon-to-be stained couch cover. "Is this also a form of scarring, girl?"

"Well, Master," she murmured as she acquiesced to his forceful manoeuvre. "She...certainly ...thinks...SO!"

"More than merely rough foreplay for the yielding slut?"

"A little of both," she giggled, wanting to shrug equivocally, but rather more focussed on screwing his courage to her starting block.

"I thought you would agree more wholeheartedly," he growled and thrust into her again. "You are very, very tight, girl. It is quite a pleasure to renew my acquaintance with your cunt."

"Mmmmm, it has been long, Master. So long ... too long."

"And yet you moisten quickly, girl...when fucked hard from behind like the sweet toy, you are."

"Your slut might be even wetter were her bottom slapped, while she was being fucked harshly from behind, sir."

"Slut indeed," he laughed. "I was beginning to observe the way you wriggled and was wondering if that was a signal for you to back into my hand, since the cupping of the buttocks is a good prelude to their spanking."

"It is, sir."

"Do you think that is because it warms them and makes them more malleable to the rise and fall of the hand?

"I think that they are warm, damp and fit for a long hard, spanking that will only spare this pussy I offer you, because you amuse yourself so within it, sir."

"But such mercy is short lived of course."

"Oh?"

"Since you are shortly going to be turned and brought to sit on my belly and rock backwards and forward in the accustomed way."

"A hand wending its way between these thighs, sir?"

"Exactly - to slap you lightly at first, timing your movements..."

And so he did, and took pleasure from watching her looking down, thighs spread and smiling as she made the deepest connection that she possibly could with the nice member embedded in her sex.

"And your mound," he continued, sitting up and looking over her shoulder, "is so soft and so slappable and so very vulnerable to assault, that once your inner thigh is nice and pink with pleasure, I feel the mound should suffer the same fate young lady. Does the cunt deserve such attention?"

"Yes, Master. At least she hopes she does."

"And yet your tits also beg to be cupped, fondled, pinched and generally lightly abused. Who is to determine where my hands will trespass next?"

"You sir."

"There again - is it trespass, when your arse belongs to me?"

"Never a trespass, sir, for she is His...all of her."

"Is this what the girl need to be? Is that the fuel to feed her tremulous thoughts?"

"Yes, sir. She is grateful to be so fuelled."

"The pleasure is mine to have you 'fuel' filled in this way, girl, all mine," he breathed heavily, pulling out of her and flopped back on the bed next to her.

"You know..."

"I only know what you tell me, sir and what you explain to me so conscientiously, when you decide to belabour my bottom, fuck me senseless or preferably both."

"You know, it is nice to be able to express one's sordid desires and to know there are receptive ears and gentle hands playing, enjoying each short descent into the hell of their mutual making, though where the heaven and the hell conjoin is the stuff of metaphysics," he mused abstractedly.

"You mistake the depth of my knowledge sir. I only know that you are waiting to jump me, sir."

"On the contrary. I am waiting for you to jump me, slut or..."

"Or?"

"Or at least to buck eagerly."

"You want more, sir?"

"I always want more penetrative insights within that exquisitely, tight vagina of yours."

"It belongs to you, sir."

"Then use it for my pleasure, girl."

"You have only to command, sir."

"I thought that I was commanding," he growled and reached over to slap her bottom hard. "Gee-up pet."

"I thought it was the mount who geed up, sir."

"You were mistaken again."

"Can't I just be taken, sir?"

"You have taken so many liberties with my liberality that I sometimes fear you begin to lack respect, girl and are undeserving of servicing my cock."

"In that case sir, I won't climb on you and rub your sex against my crease until it finds just the right moment to inflict the penetrative insight upon my poor underused pudenda that you would wish to apply to a more respectful girl."

"Respectful girls don't look over their shoulders and look saucy like that."

"I only faced your feet, so that sir could run his fingers up and down the crack of my arse once more."

"Your delectable arse."

"Tell me some more, sir."

He was so entranced by the sight that he fell silent, however. Instead he lent up and watched the amiable rise and fall of her buttocks, while biting hard into her shoulder to celebrate the occasion of their conjoining.

"Sir makes me very ... excited...hmm, to say the least."

"Turn around girl - I want to watch your tits jiggling."

Obedient to his whim despite her cavalier teasing, she turned, shivering faintly at the bite to her shoulder and bucking her hips ever eagerly.

"You may bend on all fours to take me in your bottom now. Your rise and fall has quite inspired me to want to bugger you hard."

"I'm here to be buggered hard, sir, if such is your pleasure."

"Sweet cheeks."

"Sweeter when sodomised and then covered with your cum, sir."

"There is that - now do it, lest I have to force your sphincter open and rape your arsehole more forcibly than you might otherwise desire."

"Rape requires a lack of consent."

"For fuck's sake, stop debating, witch, and get your sorry arse into position."

She turned, grinned and slid off his hips, before rolling off him and lying on her belly, raising her bottom up with a swivel of those eager hips. She looked so desirable that he could hardly decide whether to fuck or discipline her.

"I wish to masturbate your sex and stimulate your clitoris with little pinches," he instructed, decision made, dipping his index and fore fingers into the well of her happiness while she prepared to accommodate him in her tight, little, puckered hole. "Each maidenly whimper will echo pleasantly in my ears."

"Sir is the Master," she grinned and leaned up to kiss him softly as she pressed her bottom to his hard and moistened member, while he felt the double penetration through the membrane of her sex. "And her wish, her desire is always to please the Master even if he doesn't tell me who did it in my crime novel."

"Shhhh, girl. You are as you are. Your desires are as they are. Your crime novel is lying on the floor with its cover shamefully bent back is just like you will be before I have finished with that remarkably small sphincter of yours."

"And?"

"And yet, I'm not going to make an issue of any of these...THINGS."

"Ooooooooof," she groaned. "You really do like to thrust home don't you, sir?"

"Hush!"

"Forgive me."

"Forgiven – now...shut...the...fuck...up: I just want to enjoy that which I own in peace now."

"Yes sir. My lips are sealed."