The Dungeon I
On ecru initialed paper the understanding was brutally clear … You’re to be blindfolded and waiting on your knees
for your Master. I reread a couple of times, my hands shaking with both
fear of the unknown and the excitement of being delivered to the brink
of aching pleasure. Man, I was fucked!
Folding
the note in half perfectly seaming the edges, I wondered if I was
biting off more than I could chew. The fluttering in my stomach mounted
to upchuck levels as I picked up the Hermes silk scarf. I gentled it
along my cheek before breathing in his alpha scent. Him. My eyes
closed of their own accord, heart beating in concert with my pussy. My
clit was charged and primed already with my juices, the inner demonness scratching the surface of my psyche, relentlessly thrashing against confinement.
Twirling
around in a sexual dream-state, my eyes took in floor-to-ceiling
windows, lush drapes pulled back. Gasping heavily, I held my hand over
my heart to keep the fucker in there. Was he planning to take me in the
open—voyeur delight? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Then again
this was about surrendering. A place my control had no say.
On
the left was a free-standing bar, his guitar leaning against it.
Chrystal decanters lined the top. Amber-colored courage called out to my
parched throat, begging, needing something to quell the tremors
plaguing my body. I couldn’t. Could I? Or was that breaking the rules? I
couldn’t afford to piss him off, nor did I want to. I wanted to please
him, to hand over the keys to my soul for him to take up occupancy. I
needed to take purchase of the prime piece of real-estate—his heart.
Old
demons besieged me with their clever mind tricks, fighting their way to
the surface—sneering that I would lose the man I’d come to love because
of my deceitful heart. The mother of all motherfucking karma’s was
going to bite my ass—hard. I needed to lock these incessant nauseating
thoughts where they belonged—behind a door that had no moral key and
slam it shut.
Looking
to the left, I saw the fire raging in the pastoral-styled fireplace.
Above me, the erotic portrait of Abel loomed. In one hand he was holding
a set of handcuffs, and in the other a red scarf—the exact red scarf I
was now holding in my hand.
Perfect
spot! Unbuttoning my pants and blouse, letting them both pool at my
feet, I then took off my bra and panties. Flames licked my skin, helping
to ease the goose bumps stepping out all over my body. Double-knotting
the scarf, I lowered myself to my knees, thankful for the plush carpet. I
sent a silent prayer of gratitude upwards—even though God had no place
here today. Today, I would be rejoicing, reveling in and partaking of
rituals practiced by heathens.
Tempering my breathing, I thought to myself: Namaste.
But then the squeak of the door knob stopped all thought—all
thinking—sending a shiver down my spine. His innate maleness seeped
into my pores, cocooning my skin in his alpha scent—marking my heart as his.
Instantly, my body recognized him. An unwilling groan escaped me as my
nether regions clenched in anticipation. He just chuckled.
~~~
"Very
good. I see you followed my directions flawlessly. I see that beautiful
pussy’s shaved bare for me. This pleases me, Gia. And you will see how
much very shortly. But, are you ready for your Master? If I part your
folds, will you be slick and hot for me?" His warm breath tickled my
ear.
My
mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water, until I
finally croaked out, "Um, yes. I, um. I believe so, Abel.” Christ, why
was I reduced to a stuttering adolescent? He was fucking dangerous and
hot, that was why! Steeling myself, I needed to woman the fuck up and
show him who I really was.
Palming
my chin he spoke gruffly. “Love, when we’re in this setting, I am your
God, bringer of pleasure and pain.” He released me, clearly awaiting my
praises.
“Yes,
Sir. I understand perfectly,” I affirmed. My body chilled, knowing the
moment he stepped away. The ring of the crystal decanter signaled loudly
in the air. Rolling shudders had me clenching—hard. Moments ticked by
at a snail’s pace, and I wanted to rip my hair out, my frustration
building as he took his time, leaving me in this vulnerable position. He
swallowed his drink. Padding back over in my direction, he brought that
delicious signature scent of his my way. It smelled of musk and
something wild I couldn’t put my finger on.
“I’m going to taste you now,” he declared. What? Christ on a motherfuckin’ cross! Two
thick fingers teased my clit round and round, spreading my silky juices
along my seam, preparing me for his invasion. I held my breath. What
else could I do?
“You
smell like you want to be fucked.” He smiled appreciatively. “Breathe,
Gia. Your God would like to sample you. I want to commit your taste to
memory. Savor you on my tongue. Swallow your goodness,” he rasped,
leaning into my ear. I wanted to scream just do it already. His
beard scruffed against my face as he lowered his mouth down to my ear.
Every breath, every heartbeat, every swallow, was mine, here. I had a
front row seat to an erotic movie I was starring in.
Holding my shoulders firmly with his left hand, he roughly entered my opening. One breath in, one long breath out. With precision, he inserted two fingers inside me, keeping his thumb on my trigger. I ground against his palm.
“You will not come—yet. Stay still or I’ll stop,” he affirmed. Well, that did it! I needed release and needed it now. Fuck.
Squeezing my eyes tightly, I was thankful for the blind-fold. He had to
see how challenging this was for me. With a final stretching thrust he
vacated my pussy. Pussy juice permeated the air, releasing another gush
of wetness. His sucking sound ended with a loud pop, followed by a growl
of approval.
“Taste.” He fisted my hair, driving his fingers into my open mouth.
“Taste
how sweet your pussy is?” he queried. I had the perfect opportunity to
bring him to his knees. My tongue languidly snaked its way around his
fingers, sucking greedily any remaining ambrosia—with my own kickass
resounding pop. Umm… I purred my contentment.
A
seismic roar rumbled its way free from his alpha chest. Oh, he was
affected. Breaking dominant control momentarily, he lunged forward,
fisting my hair, his tongue forcing my mouth open. Damn this Dom! My lungs fought for air. My hands braced against his muscled chest, alive with the vibrations from the beast tethered within—Abel.
Dizziness threatened to take me under. Pulling air into my nose, I took
a deep breath. Consuming me from the inside out, he didn’t let up.
Apparently, my survival was to be damned. Now I needed to return his
kiss. My hands found their way up his neck to his thick hair. Grabbing a
fistful, I pulled. He answered my call with his masterful tongue and
gnashing teeth. Needing his cock in my pussy now, I reached for it,
feeling its thick steeliness through his jeans. He gently removed my
hands. Disappointed, I lowered my head, taking the opportunity to
nourish my blood with oxygen. He forced my hands behind my back. I sat
on the back of my knees to steady myself.
“You
have to earn that, babe. You haven’t earned my cock yet. And he has a
bigger ego then I do.” He chuckled as he stood up, leaving me again. Was he serious? His dick had an ego?
Some
shuffling of drawers opening and closing to my left had me turning my
head in that direction. My legs tingled with anticipation and lack of
activity. I hoped I wasn’t going to be on my knees too much longer. The
snap of something caught my immediate attention. Licking my dry lips,
swallowing the golf ball-sized knot, I readied myself. Sweet-smelling
leather assailed my senses.
“Do you know what the Cat o' nine tails is,
Gia?” he asked. I had done some googling before this night, so I
wouldn’t be ignorant to basic BDSM—knots, whips and positions 101. I had
schooled myself quickly.
“Yes,
Sir. A traditionally favored whip with nine separate tails,” I
qualified. Quirking a smile, I awaited his answer. He replied by running
the tails along my breasts … down to my pussy … snapping my clit to
attention. Over and over again my body became acquainted with this new
form of torture. Legs shaking, I thrust myself to an upright
position, hoping this little exercise would stop this embarrassing
bodily display of minor earthquakes. No such luck. My body wanted to
surrender to its Master. My breathing ratcheted to panic-attack levels.
An explosion of epic proportions was near. Whack!—across my behind. Ow! Fuck me!
“Not
nearly yet, sweetheart. That nice shade of red on your ass is making me
hard as fuck, though,” he countered. Well, that’s not how I really
meant it, but that’s exactly what I wanted—right the fuck now. He was
turned on. And that turned me on. If his lash marks on my skin did it
for him, I thought—then so be it.
“I want to taste you, Master. It’s only fair.” I was practically whining: throw me a fucking bone!
This BDSM shit was killing me. I was not a patient person by nature. So
I deserved a reward for the restraint I’d been practicing today. The
sound of his zipper lowering caught my attention. The lava started to
trickle down my legs again.
“Is this what you want, pretty girl?” He stepped up, smearing his pre-come on my lips. I moaned embarrassingly loud.
“Yes! More!” I demanded. He presented his cock to my tongue. It stroked his piercings. Fuck me.
Expertly
I lavished it with my tongue, paying homage to this rock God. Maybe his
cock deserved its own zip code? This was a locale I wanted to move
to—like, now. Pushing forward I sought his engorged balls.
Licking, flickering, and tonguing at break-neck speed to the best of my
ability, I made him roar. He ripped the scarf off, freeing my eyes from
their prison.
Although
my sight was restored, I still couldn’t see clearly. Squinting, I
looked up towards his beautiful face—and even through the blurriness, I
could tell that it was twisted in agony. He needed release. His eyes
sparking with warning, he looked as if his thread-like hold on reality
was virtually nonexistent. A sardonic smile wrenched his lips as he
continued stroking his cock. Up. Down. Up. Twist. Down. Release. Up.
Twist. Down. Release. His left hand squeezed his tightened sack roughly,
his eyes glistening. His tongue snaked out to wet his plump lips. His
sooty-lashed eyes closed for a moment as he blew out a long breath,
battling for control. I gulped—hard. Something sparkly caught my
upturned eyes, bringing my gaze back to his sack.
“Like
what you see, babe?” He smiled proudly. His tatted cock was a
kaleidoscope of vivid colors. The body of the dragon was done in green
with the underside in orange scales, the whole length of his cock ending
with the dragon’s head on his dick-head. His Apadravya shone brightly
against the dragon’s head, looking like it was coming out of its
mouth. His Mons provided the backdrop for the wings. He was a work of
art I intended to worship fully. I tilted my head awkwardly left, then
right. The head of his dick was pierced, and all along the dragon’s
scaled underside were generous loops.
“Ya
like those frenum loops, babe? Ya like that one through the head, the
Apadravya? You’ll be thanking me soon for it.” His toothy smile made me
blush at my naiveté. He took my lip-licking as a signal for further
instruction in How to Suck Abel’s Cock 101.
“Relax. Open real wide. Get it nice and wet,” he instructed.
Relaxing
my gag reflex as per his orders, I readied my throat for his invasion.
Not only did I have to worry about his girth, but I had to guard against
his hardware as well. My mouth was desert-dry, so I pursed my lips to
conjure up enough saliva to get the job done. The wide tip of his cock
made its way past my lips, netting a groan from me of appreciation for
this male, as I lavished the small beads of pre-come on my tongue,
relishing his heady taste. God damn. His hooded eyes caught mine
as I acquiesced. I closed my eyes and sucked his head hard with a quick
swirl around his Apadravya. I spit into my palm, pumping his cock once.
Twice. His throaty groan made my clit swell. I loved his male sounds. I
knew I was doing this right. I wanted more. More of him. More of that
noise. Widening my mouth even further, I took his cock in deeply,
paying close attention to his frenum loops with my tongue. The jingling
within my mouth had me shuddering. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Tongue. Up.
Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. His fingers found
their home, deeply embedding in my scalp, the pain making my eyes mist.
Licking from base to tip, I was on repeat. His eyes bored into me,
watching me intently, appreciatively.
So I gave him one final swirling suck, letting my lips pop loudly. Then I tried the impossible: to swallow him whole.
Breathing through my nose, I watched. He watched. I swallowed. The
thickness of his cock swelling was all the indication I needed. He was
ready to blow—hard. My throat relaxed and opened to accommodate his
girth further. Abel hissed and thrusted deeply. Once. Twice. Three
times. He growled loudly, face-fucking me into oblivion. Surprising even
myself, I swallowed his gift of spicy goodness, humming my appreciation
to this deity. Swallowing it down and tongue-sucking his Apadravya, I
inwardly smiled as I milked every last drop of elixir.
~~~
With a final groan I fell back and let the fibers of the rug absorb my fatigue. Mentally and physically, I was wiped out.
I rubbed my fingers through the filaments, trying desperately to soothe
my restless soul. At the moment, I didn’t care where he was or what he
was doing. His gentle fingers caressed my cheek. I closed my eyes,
savoring his touch.
“Oh
babe, we’re not done. Come, I’ll carry you to my bedroom.” He bent down
and scooped me up. Swaddled in his arms, I caught the look in his
hooded eyes. A few long strides, and we were in his room. He gently laid
me on his king-sized bed, then stepped back.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Care to join?” He motioned his hand to the bathroom in invitation.
“Nah, I’m good here for now. You go. If I change my mind, I’ll find you.” I smiled sleepily.
He
nodded and left through the en-suite. Raising myself up on my forearms,
I took in the room. Monochromatic black and white made up a majority of
his palate choice, aside from his poppy-red silk shantung comforter.
Everything was simple, yet elegant. It was clear that Abel sought the
comfort of home and all of his familiar possessions. I guessed life on
the road really was lonely.
Cocooning myself in the lush bedding, I concluded there was no better place to be. And no better thing than his scent.
Lord above, if I could bottle his essence, I’d be a wealthy chick.
Grabbing his pillow I brought it to my nose, inhaling his heady alpha
smell. A groan escaped me, and my clit was beyond engorged: it needed
release—again. I needed to steal this pillow.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, his smile reaching his eyes. I cursed inwardly. Busted. He reached for my legs and pulled me across the bed. Holy shit.
His eyes were alit with mischief. He pulled me until my bottom was at
the end of the bed. I laid there naked and began to feel self-conscious.
I turned to grab the edge of the comforter.
“Don’t
hide your body from me, Gia. Spread your legs for me. I want to see
what’s mine. I want to taste your nectar,” he commanded—and I obeyed,
spreading my legs.
When
he didn’t respond, I grew anxious. There was a mirror on the wall next
to the bed and I could see my reflection in it. What a turn-on. Me
watching him—us, as his eyes devoured my pussy. He removed his towel
from his waist and turned to see me watching tentatively in the mirror.
He grabbed hold of his thick cock, stroking and smiling, as he watched
me for a good long-ass minute. This was all one big mind fuck—and I was
barely holding my own. My blood boiled while I watched his erotic
exhibition. Boy, was he ever a showman. He knelt down and seized both my
thighs, pulling them back into a V across my chest. The image of us in
the mirror was arousing. He pressed his nose along my pussy, inhaling
deeply.
“You’ve
got such a pretty pussy, Gia. I’m a man starved for this pussy. When
I’m done, I’m going to fuck you like the devil. My cock will be
everything you’ve wished for, babe.” He winked. Cocky motherfucker.
Holding my legs in place, he dove face-first into my pussy, pushing his
tongue deep inside me—growling, devouring me whole. The sounds of him
sucking, licking, and nipping my pussy made my muscles lock up. I
reached for his hair. I needed to touch him. I wanted to hold his head
to my pussy until I was good and ready to let go.
“Gia,
put your damn hands above your head or I will tie you to the bed,” he
growled. I acquiesced. I would have fucking died or killed someone if he
had stopped. Oh God, don’t stop.
“God
has no place here, babe.” His voice was demonic. Had I just said that
aloud? Never lifting his face from his meal, he pushed my knees almost
flush against my chest, lathering his face in my juice. Oh, God. His
growling, biting, and sucking were sounds I would never forget. He was
feral. Possessed. Using two fingers, he starting finger-fucking me as he
sucked my clit. My legs shaking with deep vibrations, I started to rock
my hips. Twisting the comforter in my hands, I began screaming. But he
wouldn’t let up. The rumbling from his chest I barely registered as I
floated back down to earth. My eyes now opened to a savage beast,
leaning over to bite my inner thing. I yelped in surprise. He stood tall
and proud, stoking his long, thick, massive cock, his face still
glistening with my come. Nothing registered to this alpha. He had one
thing on his mind and that was sinking his gorgeous cock into my soaked
pussy.
“You want this cock now, babe?” he asked through gritted teeth. Still stroking it, he spit in his hand. Fucking hell.
“Please, Abel. I want you now,” I begged. I needed him now.
“Need to hear you say it, babe. Tell me you want me to sink my cock deep in you.” His voice was barely audible.
The
grit in his tone had me wanting to grab his dick and fuck myself with
it. He was watching me closely, his control threadbare.
“Abel,
fuck me with that big gorgeous cock of yours. Grind that piercing over
my clit,” I hissed. That did it! He couldn’t wait another minute—neither
could I. He teased the entrance with the head. Going agonizingly slow,
he paid special attention to my clit with his Apadravya: back and forth,
round and round. The pressure mounted. I couldn’t handle another second
of the exquisite torture. I leaned forward and grabbed his cock—hard.
“Stop
fucking with me, fucker, and fuck me already,” I pleaded. He answered
by feeding me his cock—one motherfucking inch at the time.
“I
have to loosen you up a bit. I can’t go balls-deep yet. Let me work
myself in there. Love my girl greedy for my cock. Gets me harder than
fucking stone.” He growled breathlessly. Leaning over me, his eyes
hooded, he fed me his delicious, scorching cock. He leaned down over my
face, arms positioned on either side of my head. His warm breath hummed
in my ear, as his hand reached down to stroke my clit.
“Come
on, babe. Open for me,” he rumbled. Thrusting a bit harder and quicker,
I felt my body breaking apart for this mythical creature. My eyes
closed tightly as I tried to wrap my legs around his waist to lock him
in place.
“Not
yet, babe. I haven’t worked in my rings yet. I’ll tell you when you
need to hang on.” He nipped my ear. I sighed. Fuck, I had thought he was
all the way in! Christ, I wasn’t built for this kind of torment. I
reached down to his butt cheeks and clamped down with my hands, pulling
him deeper inside me. He corkscrewed his ass over and over. I screamed
in pleasure.
“That’s
it, mama. Scream for me. You’ll be doing a lot more of that,” he
exclaimed. Biting my lip to stay in the present and not float away, I
took a mental screenshot of the moment. I felt so full, with my walls
stretched to accommodate his girth. With each thrust he sank deeper. And
I fell a little harder. Yeah, I was fucked. Literally. The sound of my
blood pumping through my veins roared in my ears. I couldn’t tell if it
was my breathing or his. It was a hodgepodge of ecstatic noises. He
placed his hands over mine, pinning them above my head.
“Arch
your back for me, babe, and spread those pretty legs nice and wide. I’m
going to own this pussy right the fuck now,” he hissed. I did as he
asked, completely submitting. After all, this was what he had asked for:
total and utter submission.
“That’s
it, babe. Offer me that sweet cunt,” he whispered. How did he make my
least favorite word sound like a fucking sonnet? I felt so incredible—so
alive, our bodies in tune with one another, rutting rhythmically in a
crescendo of lust, his frenum rings hitting spots I’d never sensed
before. He manipulated my body with expert precision. I regarded his
handsome face, relishing this beautiful man on top of me. His eyes bore
into me with stealth-precision. Looking directly into my soul, he smiled
wickedly, then kissed me deeply. Arrogant prick. Yeah, he knew he was the best ride in town. Fuck me.
Grinding
my heels into the mattress to get better leverage, I met him thrust for
thrust. He moved his fingers from my clit. With his other hand still
pinning my arms above my head, he pushed my right thigh up from under my
knee. Just then he hit a whole new angle and I lost it. Screaming his
name, I clenched my pussy, squeezing his cock. As he jack-hammered me, I
felt his head swell further. He released my hands, rushing to his
knees. After a few long strokes of his dick, his hot thick ropes of come
painted my tits and stomach. Yeah, he was an artist, all right. His
eyes were closed, his mouth parted. His breathing was hurried, his body
still. He looked like a fucking God—absolutely stunning. I would never
get this image out of my head.
He
opened his eyes finally—to see his handiwork, watching me closely. I
smiled in post-coital bliss. I was blissed the fuck out. He leaned over
and on top of me, kissing me with his full lips, coaxing my mouth open
with his talented, wicked tongue, not caring that his come was smeared
all over his body. Most men would mind. But he wasn’t most men. I accepted his kisses with a moan.
He
kissed me for a long while until sleep drew me under. I slept without
dreams, with just the sensation floating behind my eyelids of colorful
pastel swirls. If I had any conscious thought it felt much akin to Alice
and the rabbit hole. My body was enveloped in his scent, marking me
right down to the bone. I would forever be his—whether he knew it or
not. His to control. His to do with as he wished. His to consume, to eat
away at my very soul. I was in that deep. My veins ran with his
essence, the fuel, the nourishment, my body craved. His melodic gritty
voice carried me to the surface of consciousness. It was faint, but it
spoke to my heart—awakening me.
I opened my eyes, seeking him out. He was singing an a cappella
version of …? What song was that? I knew it wasn’t one of Lethal
Abel’s. I listened keenly, searching for any frame of reference. Oh, now
I knew! It was his version of Katy Perry’s “Dark Horse.” His had an
edge to it. Nonetheless, it was beautiful. And more importantly, it was
quintessential Abel. He mastered everything he did, on his terms.
Make me your cupid—
Make me your one and only
But don’t make me your enemy, your enemy, your enemy
So you wanna play with magic
Girl, you should know what you’re falling for
Baby, do you dare to do this?
‘Cause I’m coming at you like a dark horse
Are you ready for a perfect storm, a perfect storm?
‘Cause once you’re mine, there’s no going back …
Oh, God.
His version of reality was quickly becoming mine. I laid back down and
let his voice pull me back under again, swathing me in his gravelly
tones—carrying me to him.
