We Love Lucy Page 4

  By the time Scott ended our kiss for a second time, I was wet and definitely ready for him. I took his hand and pushed it between my legs to demonstrate as much. He touched two fingers to my slit and I revelled in the hungry expression on his face as my sticky juices coated his skin.

  “Please, Scott,” I begged, “do it now. I’ve wanted you for so long now, spell or no spell. I love you.”

  Retrieving a condom from his jeans pocket, he tore at the packaging and sheathed himself quickly. He then moved into position and pressed the tip of his cock against my entrance.

  “I love you too, Susie.” With that, he entered me slowly but firmly, the entire time nervously checking my face for any signs of discomfort. I cringed when I felt my virginity about to be taken and Scott paused, which served only to prolong my agony. I reached up to his buttocks and pulled him roughly into me, making the blood sacrifice once and for all. He was inside me to the hilt.

  Recovering from his shock at my actions, at a nod from me, Scott began to roll his hips, quickly turning my discomfort into intense pleasure. He pressed his pubic bone firmly against my clit with each thrust, forcing me into the heady heights of orgasm in no time at all. He clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle my screams and as our widened eyes locked, I felt his shaft twitch and leap inside me. Biting his lip, Scott squeezed his eyes shut as he emptied himself into the condom.

  We didn’t have the chance for a post-coital cuddle, however. Our climaxes had barely subsided when an almighty bloodcurdling scream came from somewhere in the house. It was a scream of pure rage and agony and Scott and I quickly leapt apart and scrambled our clothes on before all hell broke loose.

  “Well,” Scott said, buttoning his jeans, “I guess it must have worked. There go our plans of eloping to Scotland!”

  “Eloping?” I said, pinging a sock across the room in my surprise, “Who said anything about marriage?”

  “Me. I won’t be apart from you, Susie White. I love you and we belong together. Whatever happens next, it’s you and me against the world. Right?”

  And as the sound of fast and furious footsteps grew closer I grasped his hand and squeezed it.

  “Against the world. For better or for worse.”

  Punish Me Good

  Malachi knelt before his mistress, looking up at her with complete reverence.

  “What would you have me do, mistress?”

  Tilting her head to one side, she licked her scarlet lips as she studied her slave. Her mind mulled over the possibilities. There were many. But since she was in charge, she started with her favourite.

  “OK, slave. Since you ask so nicely, there are a few things you can do for me. First of all, you can lick my pussy.”

  Towering over her sub, Avery shifted her legs apart and smiled as Malachi eagerly shuffled between them, his hands bound behind his back. She was a tough taskmaster when it came to oral sex, so Malachi had his work cut out for him, especially without the assistance of his hands.

  Wearing her favourite blood-red PVC corset with matching suspender belt, no panties, and thigh-high boots, Avery knew she looked every inch the slut. What’s more, she didn’t care. She felt powerful, sexy, and totally deserving of her position as Malachi’s mistress.

  Malachi, on the other hand, didn’t cut such an imposing figure. He knelt between his mistress’ shapely thighs, lapping at her cunt, wearing nothing but a collar and handcuffs. Determined to emasculate him further, she’d used pink fluffy cuffs. Despite his subservient behaviour, Malachi’s cock seemed to have taken on a life all its own. Rising rigid and impressive from the nest of dark blonde curls at the juncture of his thighs, it nestled against his stomach, oozing pre-come so copiously that it ran down his shaft.

  Avery cast a sneaky look at his cock and gulped inwardly as she imagined its bulbous head splitting apart her pussy lips and burying deep inside her. She loved the lifestyle and all the kink and mind games that went with it - but she wasn’t averse to a good old-fashioned straight fuck every now and again. Especially from Malachi.

  This time, however, Malachi was definitely going to have to earn his reward. Reaching down to grip his blonde tresses roughly between her fingers, she rubbed herself off against his face. Desperate to please, Malachi’s skilled tongue worked in and around her pussy, massaging her clit and sucking her labia until she was ready to explode. Her clit was massively engorged, full of the blood she needed to survive. Then, with a deft flick of his tongue, Malachi made her come.

  Thrusting wildly against his mouth and chin, Avery rode out her orgasm, mildly aware that Malachi was licking and sucking up every drop of liquid gushing from her core. Adoring slave that he was, he never liked to waste a drop.

  When she’d recovered enough from her orgasm to regain her presence of mind, Avery roughly shoved Malachi away - so hard that he sprawled onto his side on the floor. Immediately, though, no doubt fearing his mistress’s wrath, he moved so he was kneeling once more.

  “Not bad,” Avery said, “though it could have been better. Get yourself over that rack and prepare yourself for punishment. I’m sick and tired of your laziness.”

  She was lying, of course. The head she’d just received from her slave had been fantastic, as always. They both knew it, too. However, they were playing a game, and this was part of it. After all, if Malachi wasn’t ‘naughty’ then he couldn’t be punished, could he?

  Avery watched, a disapproving look on her beautiful face as Malachi scrambled awkwardly to his feet and walked over to the rack. Bending over the wooden frame, Malachi had to manoeuvre so he wasn’t crushing his still-erect cock. No mean feat, considering he was still cuffed. He looked extremely humble bent over with his pale ass sticking out, begging to be thrashed. You’d think it would be more difficult to make a 6”4’ blonde, muscular man look humble, but Malachi was an enthusiastic sub, did as he was commanded, and did it well. He knew if he pleased his mistress that he would get what it was that he truly craved. And boy, did he crave it. His mouth watered at the mere thought of it.

  Marching over to the table where she kept her various instruments of pain and torture, Avery pursed her lips as she perused her choice. Glancing back across at Malachi, she licked her lips at the sight of his juicy ass spread and on display, purely for her enjoyment. Looking at him didn’t help her choose an implement; however, as she knew he would happily take any punishment she meted out. That was the beauty of her slave, he accepted anything and everything she did, completely unquestioningly. He was the best she’d ever had.

  Avery decided to go the whole nine yards on this particular occasion and she picked up the most brutal tool in her possession. Carrying the switch over to where Malachi stood prone, Avery positioned herself behind him purposely so he couldn’t see what she was holding. Then she caressed her empty hand over his soft, yet muscular cheeks. She’d soon put some colour into that pale flesh.

  She drew her hand back and gave his bottom a hearty slap. The sound ricocheted around the room, but as always, not even the slightest sound emanated from Malachi’s lips. Bringing her arm back, Avery slapped the other side of his rump, enjoying the heat in her hand and the angry handprint which was temporarily etched onto Malachi’s skin.

  Licking her blood-red lips, Avery prepared to thoroughly mark her slave’s flesh. Drawing the switch across Malachi’s ass, she heightened his anticipation by giving him a hint as to what he was in for. She lightly, playfully, tapped the switch against first one cheek, then the other. Suddenly, she drew back her arm then swiped hard at his ass. The resulting sound was a loud crack, which one might expect would be followed by a yell from the recipient. Not Malachi. He remained completely silent. And still.

  Used to her slave’s silence, Avery was not concerned by this. It simply made her all the more determined to hurt him so bad that his vocal chords betrayed him. A glance told her that his penis wasn’t betraying him. In fact
, it was so hard that it was as red and angry-looking as the mark she’d left on Malachi’s bottom. She looked forward to the resultant frantic fucking she would receive after this session. It seemed that the more extreme their BDSM sessions were, the more insane their lovemaking turned out to be.

  Encouraged and turned on further by this thought, Avery put her best foot forward, her best arm back, and began thrashing Malachi once more. She lay stripe after stripe on his skin until she’d covered every inch of his ass and upper thighs. Then she began again. Harder and harder she beat him, until finally, she split his flesh. Still, he didn’t make a single sound.

  Seconds later, as Avery gazed upon the wound, it closed up. Unperturbed, Avery continued her assault until she’d opened six or seven more wounds, and watched each one knit back together, leaving the skin as if it had never been touched. There was no evidence there to suggest that Malachi had been spanked, let alone switched.

  Any normal person would have been howling, wailing, begging for mercy and possibly bleeding by this point. But Malachi was no normal person.

  Tiring now, Avery walked back over to the table and replaced the switch. Her blood was thundering through her veins from the adrenaline rush and the vigorous thrashing she’d given her slave. Showing weakness was not something Avery did, however, and she moved once more to stand behind her slave.

  “Stand,” she ordered. Malachi complied immediately, turning to face his mistress. He bowed his head in respect.

  “You have taken your punishment well, slave. Well; and without complaint, I might add. Turn around.”

  Reaching into her deep cleavage, Avery retrieved the key to Malachi’s pink fluffy handcuffs and unlocked them. Tossing them and the key to the floor, Avery gazed upon her loyal and obedient slave. She noticed his cock was still screaming its enthusiasm. Soon, she thought, soon.

  “You have received a severe punishment this night and yet you have not questioned or complained. You are truly obedient.”

  “Thank you, mistress. I wish to do nothing but serve you.”

  “And serve me you shall, Malachi. Come.”

  Leaving the room, Avery made her way to the bedroom, slave in tow.

  Once there, Avery made her demands known.

  “Close the door, slave. Then come to me.”

  Naturally, Malachi didn’t need telling twice. Moving extraordinarily fast, he closed the door and positioned himself close to the woman he worshipped, awaiting her next order.

  “Remove my corset.”

  Malachi moved to Avery’s back and began to untie the ribbon holding together the blood-red PVC garment. He knew the game was coming to an end so he risked doing his task unnecessarily slowly, to heighten the pleasure and anticipation for them both.

  “You have pleased me this night, Malachi. You have truly earned your reward. Take what it is that you need from me, my slave.”

  Bending his head to his mistress’ pale throat, Malachi continued to undo the laces of the corset. His lips caressed her skin, and soon she felt something sharp graze her flesh. Then she felt the twin stings that signalled his fangs piercing her skin and entering her artery. A warm feeling spread throughout her body as the endorphins from her lover’s saliva entered her bloodstream.

  Avery became vaguely aware that Malachi had tossed her corset to the floor, and had slipped a hand between her legs as he drank. Stroking her slippery flesh, he pressed an expert finger to her clitoris and began to stroke it. That, coupled with the happy chemicals rushing around her body, quickly brought Avery to a crushing climax.

  Malachi’s other arm quickly went round her front, holding her up as her legs went from beneath her. The movement unearthed his fangs from her flesh and he quickly retracted them, having drunk enough for the moment. He knew Avery would allow him to drink again later. She loved it as much as he did. Right now, there were more pressing matters at hand. The game of mistress and slave was over, for now.

  Turning Avery in his arms, he carried her to the bed. He climbed on and playfully threw her down, following quickly afterwards. Covering her with his huge frame, he moved in for a kiss. Avery responded immediately, arching her body towards his, caressing his tongue with her own. She slid her arms underneath his and they travelled down his body to reach his ass. Knowing there was no danger of causing the vampire discomfort, Avery grabbed an ass cheek in each hand, squeezing hard and pulling him towards her.

  Laughing, Malachi said, “Anyone would think you were obsessed with my ass, woman. First you thrash it until you break the skin and now you can’t wait to get your hands on it. Is that all I am to you, just a piece of ass?”

  “What if you are, vampire? What are you going to do about it?”

  Joining in on the joke, Avery slapped his ass, enjoying the look on his face and the dangerous spark igniting in his green eyes.

  “Well, I suppose I’d better punish you like you do me, hadn’t I?”

  “Really,” she replied, “and how do you propose to do that?”

  “Well, first I’ll lick your pussy until you beg me to fuck you. Then I’ll lick it some more, until you squirt your sweet juices all over my face. Then I’ll rub my cock up and down your pussy lips to get it nice and wet. I’ll slide into you, nice and slow. And I’ll tease you with my dick, screwing you nice and slow, until you’re crying with frustration. Begging me to fuck you hard. Saying my name. Maybe eventually I’ll relent and give you the hard fuck you need. And since you’re getting what you want, then perhaps I’ll sink my teeth into one of your gorgeous breasts and drink from you. I certainly think I’ve earned it this evening. I’ll be emptying you and filling you at the same time.”

  “Sounds like a terrible punishment, vampire,” Avery said in a tone laden with sarcasm, “maybe it’s just as well I’m the mistress and you’re the slave. You’re shit at giving punishments.”

  “Does that mean you don’t accept my punishment?”

  “Of course not. I’ll take that terrible punishment from you any day of the week. Now, come on, slave, get your face between my thighs and punish me. Punish me good.”

  Trophy Boyfriend

  You know how some guys have a good-looking woman on their arm and like to call them their trophy wife, or trophy girlfriend? Well, once upon a time I reversed the trend by having a trophy boyfriend.

  Ethan was hot. It wasn’t just me that thought so, either. My friends would go all girly and flirty when he was around, batting their eyelashes and laughing at his lame jokes. We used to say (behind his back, of course - we didn’t want to inflate his ego any further) that he looked like a young Tom Cruise. With his darker-than-night hair, startling blue eyes and movie-star smile, Ethan looked good on my arm, all right.

  I guess you’re wondering why on earth I’m talking about him in the past tense, if he was that perfect. The answer is simple: the guy was as dumb as a box of rocks. Sure, he looked good and was hotter than hell in the sack, but he just didn’t have much between the ears. If you ended up on his team during the pub quiz, you’d give up before they’d even asked the first question. Interesting conversations were non-existent, and the chats we did have bored me to tears. There’s only so much sport, reality TV and car talk a girl like me can take.

  Now I know you’re wondering why I kept him around in the first place. Well, I already dropped a hint. Ethan was damn good in bed. His body, just like the rest of him, was delicious. We may not have connected intellectually, but when he was around I was constantly horny and would jump his bones at any given opportunity. Much to his credit, he didn’t mind. Like many guys, he was always up for some rough-and-tumble between the sheets and I took full advantage of the fact.

  To say we had an adventurous sex life would be a completely accurate statement. Sure, if we were spending the night together we’d do it before we went to sleep and when we woke up, like many couples. We also played with toys
, indulged in role play and all that kind of thing, too. But when we were out and about and the urge became too much, we often didn’t wait until we got home. We did it in grubby pub toilets, the washrooms in upmarket restaurants, parks, gardens, other people’s houses... the list goes on.

  We even did it in a theme park once. The place had this deserted old monument that no-one gave two hoots about, so we slipped up the spiral staircase and made the most of the alone time. I never came so hard before in my life. The thought of thousands of people milling around just feet from us got me so aroused that I had to bite my hand to stop myself from crying out as my cunt clenched and squeezed around Ethan’s cock.

  As you’d expect in a relationship with no real connection, the novelty started to wear off .Yes, I still enjoyed sex with Ethan, but it became increasingly difficult to overlook the fact that we had no future. Plus the random comments and weird noises he made during sex became more and more noticeable. In the first flushes of lust I’d barely noticed it but now, I just wished he would be quiet.

  I decided it was time to call it a day. But I made plans to have some fun with him first. You know, something to remember him by. And vice versa.

  Once I’d made the decision, I didn’t drag it out for too long. The very next weekend I suggested spending the night in at his place. Knowing what that really meant (or so he thought), Ethan was totally up for it. So on the Saturday afternoon I packed my overnight bag, adding a few extras, and made my way over to Ethan’s.

  A little while later, after we’d eaten our takeout meal in front of the TV, Ethan started talking. It was just idle chit chat about nothing in particular, but I didn’t want to hear it. I took our plates and dumped them in the kitchen, then sat back down on the sofa. I stemmed the flow of his yammer by putting a finger to his lips. He silenced instantly, his eyes widening. I couldn’t tell if he was surprised that I’d shut him up, or pissed. I didn’t give him chance to tell me. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his.