Intimatters

What a vacation! The sex is still as steamy as it was when this story started. Enjoy the continuation of moonmagiclady’s erotic saga.

On Loan Part XI
By moonmagiclady

Dinner was a pleasant affair in downtown Waikiki at the ChartHouse, but not brightly lit and full of conversation. Led by the hostess to a less busy area of the restaurant, we took a corner booth that still offered a view of the sun casting its last rays over the small waves that lapped against the boats in the harbor. I couldn’t help admiring the tight curved butt of the Asian hostess as she led us to the requested booth. I inhaled deeply, savoring the smells of steak and fish swirling with the ocean air and the conversations being carried on. (Best sashimi in town… but shhhh… sort of a local secret)

The Dom I had been entrusted to sat across the table from me, the host of the previous days barbeque was to my right, and the dominatrix from the store to my left.  I was still lightheaded and lost in space from the experience less than two hours ago at the store. Although I had been given a towel to clean up, without a shower, the smell of the men who had used me and the scent of their cum would remain on my skin.

Every inhalation reminded me that I had just allowed four strangers to use and abuse me, and enjoyed every moment of it.  My body was still sore and tender, every adjustment to my weight seemed to send a zing of pain from my ass straight up my spine to my brain. The worst part was that each sensation only served to very slowly begin to arouse me again.

As if the sensations weren’t enough, I loved the feel of the black leather dress sliding across my skin, and leather has a scent all its own that just makes me purr.  The feel of the cool heavy skirt sliding over the curves of my hips, pressing against my welts, and tight corset top mercilessly pressing against my raw nipples were distracting me from the conversation, pulling a frown from my Dom across the table.

He knows I am held to exacting standards and expected to be a perfect respectable lady when it is expected of me.  Right now, it was expected of me.  I inhale deeply, take a sip of my water, and try to refocus on the conversation.  In all honesty, the female dominatrix was a little annoying and pushy, and I had let my mind drift on purpose.

Although beautiful, and obviously a skilled top along with intelligent enough to run her own business, I couldn’t help being annoyed at her militant anti-male attitude.  Not to mention, that as someone who is bisexual, I found her statements on the idea that people are either gay or straight to be both insulting and irritating.  Needless to say, she also had an opinion on which way I should decide, as she seemed to feel was necessary.

As dessert was served, with an expectant smirk on her face, she suggests to my Dom that I be required to service all three of them under the table.  With a thoughtful smile, he turns down the suggestion, more out of irritation with the woman than with the idea itself, as is obvious from his next command that I crawl under the table and service both himself and the Host.

The Dominatrix flushes bright red with anger at being so obviously snubbed, and glares at me as if it is my fault.  Before I can move, she reaches out and grips my hair to yank my head back and kiss my lips hard enough to bruise, her eyes on my Dom the whole time.  I’m now completely mortified due to the fact that unless under command to behave otherwise, I have more class than to make out in a nice restaurant.

Embarrassment is quickly joined by anger and surprisingly arousal soars in as well.  In moments I’m lost, her lips are soft and full and she knows the perfect way to pull my hair for me to have shivers crawl up and down my spine.  The dilemma comes in that I don’t like her, don’t particularly want her kissing me, AND I sure don’t have permission to respond. My Dom watches thoughtfully, and as she finishes the kiss, repeats his order for me to go under the table before pulling out his cell phone and punching in a number.

Although I’m worried that nearby diners will look over and realize what I am doing, I slide under the table and knees on the cold dirty floor turn to slide my hosts cock out of his pants.  For a second I hold the weight of his cock in my hand, that solid relaxed heaviness a man has only before he is aroused. Moving my mouth silently over him, I savor the taste and feel of his becoming engorged in my mouth.

My nipples are so tight against the leather dress from fear of getting caught and arousal that even if they were not raw they would hurt.  I worry for a moment if my wetness has stained the skirt of the dress, and then return my attention to the task at hand.  My host is hardening now, thrusting subtly into my mouth and then curling his hand in my hair to push me down, coughing a little.

For a moment I freeze and flush hard red in embarrassment terrified we are caught, as the waiter comes back and asks what I am doing.  I hear the laughter in my Dom’s voice as he explains to the server that I am looking for a contact lens.  The boy can see me under the table, but the cloth prevents him from seeing exactly what I am doing.  He offers to help, and now the laughter is almost audible as my Dom explains he thinks we can handle anything that comes up.

My head has been held down on my hosts cock during this conversation, which is good as I’m ready to snarl at my Dom’s amusement.  I come up with an almost soundless gasp when released, savoring the sweet taste of air.  I can hear my Dom talking softly on the phone and to the Dominatrix, and I wonder momentarily what is going on but then decide that concentrating on what I am doing is much more rewarding.

I love the smooth soft taste of the skin on a man’s cock, and it’s always fun with guys who have endless self control and patience to see what lick or touch can call forth a gasp or other response.  The host was very self controlled, part of what made him such a good top, but the dip of my tongue into his cum hole caused a tightening of his grip in my hair, and a pushing down of my mouth until he is buried deep in my throat again.

My saliva drips onto the floor as I gag then my head is released.  Careful not to catch and rip the leather skirt, I crawl across to my Dom, but am pointed back toward my seat instead. Relieved to not have gotten caught, but disappointed to not be able to taste my Dom’s sweet cock, I slide back into the booth, smoothing my dress and running fingers through my hair to try and make myself presentable.  Fortunately my curls lend themselves to the disheveled look quite easily.  A touch mischievous myself, I smile at the Dominatrix like a cat who has just finished a bowl of cream.  She sniffs dismissively and turns her head to look back at my Dom, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.

My Dom finishes up his conversation on the phone, and then hands it over to me.  It was my Master!  I could hear the smile in his voice as he explained to me what had been arranged.  I would spend tonight with my Dom, and tomorrow be taken to participate in an “art show” the Dominatrix was hosting at her store.  Between the two of them there was a bet, if the dominatrix could convince me to stay with her by the end of the art show, she would win me as a slave, and my Master would send my items over from the Big Island.  I wasn’t told the stakes if she couldn’t, but was assured they were nothing of any value.

Great, not only was I being used as a wager, I wasn’t even considered valuable enough to weigh something interesting against.   I found my mind wandering in the curious direction of wondering what a move back to Honolulu might entail after all, and a slight curiosity if the Dominatrix would treasure me more than my master might.  Perhaps I was silent too long as my Master asked me somewhat sharply if I understood what was required of me.  I quickly responded in the affirmative.

I hung up the phone and handed it back to the Dom who shook hands with the Dominatrix before rising to leave.  I rise and smile at both the Host and the Dominatrix wondering idly how the night might progress between them before turning to slide my hand through my Dom’s arm and walk out with him to the car.

My Dom explains on the beautiful drive back of the Pali that he has been given very explicit instructions to make sure I go to the Dominatrix on the following night completely aware of what I would be giving up.  I smile to myself, sure this means that I am to be spoiled and fucked to within an inch of sanity.  My smile fades though, as my Dom grins at me evilly, and I begin to wonder just what his instructions might have been.

Looking out over the endless ocean as we drive, I am reminded again why I choose to live here.  If you have never looked out over the ocean in the clear night air on a beach in Hawaii, I highly recommend it.  To look out on such an endless stretch of black with only the stars to define any boundaries whatsoever reminds us how small we are in the universe, yet our passion can blaze so great.  When I am bound, and taken to the edge of my experience of sensation whether through pleasure or pain, it seems as if I can dance with the stars themselves.

We arrived back at the hotel and spent a little while in the hot tub before heading to the room.  The sound of the ocean is always around when you are anywhere near the water in Hawaii… and I think it gets in your blood even when you are not near a beach.  We could hear the ocean directly outside our room, our steps were maybe a dozen feet from the water. I was in a particularly good position to appreciate this, as I was strictly bound to the railing surrounding the patio area looking out over the water.

My ankles had been tightly bound far apart close to the supporting studs, I was literally bent over a pillow placed between my tummy and the cross board, my wrists stretching down and out to be tied to the same studs as my ankles.  I had been moaning and begging on and off for the past couple hours as I had been bound in this position, or other ones just as uncomfortable.  At this moment, my Dom was amusing himself by attaching a weight to the clips he had already tightened on my swollen pussy lips.

My ass was tender and sore from the belt that had snapped across it earlier, and my nipples even more raw then earlier, a fact emphasized every time my Dom tugged on the chain connecting my nipple clamps.  I moaned again into the knotted rope stuffed in my mouth, then a little louder as I heard the hiss of a bull whip snapping in the air over me.  The first lash snapped across my hip bone, and my moan became more shrill, drawing a thoughtful silence from my Dom. I hear his steps depart for a moment, and then he comes back and pulls my head back harshly.

Pulling my hair back into a rough knot, he then pulls a rough cloth bag over my head, tightening it firmly against my neck, but not enough to even touch my breathing, just enough to remind me that it is there.  I begin to panic a little, anything that interferes with my breathing sends my heart racing, and he strokes my body firmly and soothingly waiting for me to calm.  It takes several slow breaths before my shuddering fades from panic, and he can sense the bone deep eagerness to continue.

I relax then shiver, knowing that now that I am ready our games will continue.  I feel him step back, the bull whip sings over me again, and then snaps against my skin.  Although it feels like fire slicing over my skin, I know because I’ve watched before that the louder snaps over my head are designed to panic me, the ones that hit me are not done nearly as viciously.  The ones that land across my flank and curve of ass are done almost casually, anything harder with this particular toy with cut skin open, not the result we were looking for.

It surely doesn’t feel casual to be on the receiving end of it though, and my moans become cries into the gag. For a moment the whip stops, but my hips are still trying to squirm away, earning me a swat on the ass from my Dom.  I cry into the gag again, then bite hard and whimper into the gag as he removes all the clips from my body, sending blood throbbing back into my skin. I am commanded to remain in position while my wrists and ankles are unbound and then allowed to stand.

I straighten for a moment, rubbing the small of my back, but have only a second before I am scooped over my Dom’s shoulder to be dropped onto the mattress.  Once there,  ropes are again used to bind me, this time, wrists are crossed and bound in front of me, then the rope wound around and around me, binding legs together, criss-crossing over breasts, and now I begin to wonder what is going on.  I am so hungry for a fat cock in either my ass or pussy, and I just don’t see how it’s going to happen with me bound this way.

My Dom reminds me that my Master has says that I’m to be reminded of what I will lose if I leave his care, and suggests I think about that before he turns out the light and leaves me laying there, aroused, unfulfilled and unable to even touch myself to address the issue.  I had thought that my Master meant the pleasures of being touched and fucked, but perhaps I was wrong.  Maybe he meant for me to consider if I still want and crave the treatment he gives me as his slave.

If I leave, maybe I won’t be bound for any more endless nights, tormented until I whimper and moan for mercy, unheeded.  MAYBE I would not get teased and whipped until every touch was an agony… My anger begins to grow and I start to think of what life with a mistress would be like.  My pussy is so hungry and throbbing, I’m craving a cock in my ass or mouth, and here I am tied up and left.  My thoughts are confusing and I don’t know WHAT I want as I drift off into an uncomfortable drowsy sleep for the next few hours.

Bright sunlight traveling across my belly wakes me as my Dom enters the room.  He unties me, forbids me to speak and commands me to shower.  When I exit the shower, a short baby-doll type white cotton dress awaits me, alongside a pair of four inch fuck me pumps.  After I slide these on, I’m ordered to kneel and cuffs are placed around my wrists and ankles.  At my Dom’s command, I open my mouth to have a ball gag shoved inside, then crawl into the chest he has padded for my comfort.  Wrists and ankles shackled together, I curl up into a ball for him to shut the lid.  I hear another voice, and the chest is lifted and placed inside a car.  I drift off to sleep again, and when I wake up, my mistress until tonight is smiling down at me….

If you liked this story, check out the others in series