Chapter One

 

A THING OF PAIN AND BEAUTY

 

I followed her up the stairs of my house, noting the lush roundness of her hips. She was petite except for her buttocks, those great, swelling moons that rolled gently under the silk of her cheap dress. Even as I walked behind her I could feel the tension growing in my crotch. I savoured the look of her ass, knowing how much sport I would have with it in a very short time.

She was a redhead and relatively young, no more than twenty-five, I would guess. And stupid, of course - as what street-walker is not? She had the looks but not the intelligence to make it any other way. Not that I am a prude or anything like that - far from it. I like street-walkers, especially the younger and dumber ones who are easily impressed by a few hundred dollars. I would imagine that she would have gone down on me for ten bucks, but what I had planned for my evening's entertainment required that I pay her a substantial sum. I was going to make her scream. Oh, how she was to scream with the agony of pain and the agony of not being able to do anything about it!

She turned to me and gave me one of those very professional smiles. It said to me that I should hurry, for she wanted to prove all the amazing things she could do with her body to please me. I returned the smile and quickened my step until I was next to her on the next landing. She took my hand and gave it a squeeze. I wondered then if she would have been so friendly if she had known what was in store for her in my secret apartment. I wondered if she would have been so professionally blasé about lending her affections to someone like me. It was all very hypothetical, of course, and the musings left me as soon as we reached the door.

I opened it and ushered her inside, closing the door even before I switched on the lights.

It was always very exciting watching the reactions of a young woman when she enters my apartment for the first time. Some women laugh, perhaps a little worriedly, but they too turn on the tears when they finally realize that my special bench is there for their pain and pleasure.

This young prostitute was no different. She gave me a worried smile and said I must be kidding. Was I a sadist? Some kind of nut?

I assured her that I was all that. And I was smiling all the time to set her at ease. She didn't catch on to the irony of the situation even when I locked the door and put the key away where she would never find it.

"The bedroom and bath are in there," I told her, pointing to another door. "Get naked and come back here. I'll fix a couple of drinks in the meantime."

She gave me her standard smile and went into the bedroom as I went to the bar and prepared a couple of very mild drinks. I didn't want her to miss anything through the numbness of alcohol.

While she was in the bathroom, I sipped my drink and made sure that the fine leather straps on the velvet-covered bench were in good order. I had had the bench designed myself for the purpose of my peculiar entertainment. It was about as high as my knees, shaped almost like a pear and long enough to fit the average female's torso. I had arranged for it to be covered with a soft synthetic fur and padded with a good layer of foam rubber. I wanted my girls to be as comfortable lying across it as they could be, since once they were on it and I began my entertainment, all comfort would vanish with each stinging blow from a thin riding crop or the broad leather strap that I sometimes fancied.

Naturally, I did not have either of these instruments in sight. I have found that the sight of a mere bench for restraint is one thing, almost an intriguing new element of sexuality for a woman. But the sight of some whip or other weapon is most certain to make a woman hesitate before submitting to the bindings of the bench. I therefore always keep them out of sight until the object of attention is securely fastened in place.

I turned in time to see the young street-walker open the door and come out. She wore that same old professional smile and nothing else.

Her body was quite flawless-looking from the distance of the length of the room, with long legs that tapered fully at her crotch, which was capped with a triangle of reddish-brown hair. Her hips were as full as I had anticipated when I had picked her up, and the roundness did not fall into rolls of flab after she had taken off her girdle. She had softly rounded belly, but not rounded enough to mar the slim dimension of her waist. Her breasts were of medium size and fullness, and I detected that at some future time in her life she would begin to sag. Not that I cared for her future, of course, and at this particular moment in her life, the soft flesh around her arms and upper chest was most becoming.

I offered her the other drink and motioned her to come and sit beside me near the bench but not actually on it. I wanted to see how she would react as I explained to her how I had this terrible fixation to have intercourse with a woman while she was confined in a very helpless position. I talked to her softly and reassuringly so as to get across to her that what I required of her was nothing more than some of the other quirks that she must have consented to in the course of her profession.

All the while she sat next to me, her hand lingered on my leg, warm and soft and seemingly very tiny. She nodded without saying anything and finished her drink quickly. Then she rose from the sofa and walked voluntarily over to the bench.

"I've had a few nutty experiences, mister, but this has got to be a new one. But whatever turns you on. So let's get with it, okay?"

I put my drink down and followed her over to the bench and helped her straddle it in the position I wanted. She spread herself over it, even carefully, pushing aside her breasts so that a great part of them hung freely on either side of the centre support. This kind of cooperation did not surprise me in the least. I have generally found that with women - all women and not just willing whores - once they have agreed to sharing their bodies, all manner of peculiarities may be introduced to lovemaking with them. I think this is especially true of the type of restraint that I had designed for my women. It was almost as though being helpless made them able to respond to sexual overtures more readily. Being forced, so to speak, seemed to free them of any lingering guilt they might have had. Surely it must be what makes rape so popular and why so very few 'victims' report it to the authorities.

When I ran my hand over the soft mounds of her ass I noticed that she was perspiring ever so lightly, and I thought to myself that she was willing to do many things with me, for I had probably paid her considerably more for a night's entertainment than she had ever received before. But the cool dampness of her smooth white flesh told me that, along with the willingness, there was a lingering fear of what might happen.

Very quickly then, I fastened her wrists to the leather straps, pulling her arms back gently so that her back arched and her breasts swung even freer than before. I didn't bother tightening them all the way, for there was time for that now that she was helpless. Leisurely then I walked behind her, caressing her big rear, and carefully fastened each ankle to the appropriate strap. Thus she was tied into a not uncomfortable hands-and-knees position, her legs spread slightly for the moment and her ass curved tantalizingly upward.

"Now what happens?"

I smiled down at her and slowly drew my hands across her face, touching the soft skin of her cheeks very lightly before I snapped my hands back and cracked that soft flesh an each side of her face.

She appeared to be too stunned by this sudden aggression to cry out immediately; there was only a puzzled look on her face, a blush that instantly reddened with the imprint of my hands.

"Don't talk right now, my dear. Just open your mouth and suck my cock. Take it deeply into your throat, dear, and you won't suffer very much. Open up."

She hesitantly opened her mouth in a tight O as I slowly unzipped my trousers and let them fall around my ankles. My cock was only partially hard at this point, but I steered it into the lipsticked cavity of her head and let it sit in that sweet warmth.

"Suck it, bitch," I whispered.

Immediately I could feel her hot tongue begin to dance over the glans, sending that familiar rapture through my body and rushing the blood to swell my weapon. I let my cock sit at the threshold of her mouth until it was hard as it has ever been, and then I pushed forward slowly, savouring each frantic motion of her tongue as it fought the losing battle to keep my staff from gagging her.

I gloried in the sharp-gentle way her teeth grazed the shaft. She attempted to pull her head back, but I followed her until she reached the limits of the restraints I had placed her in, and only then did I pull slowly back to give her time to catch her breath.

I withdrew my cock completely from her mouth and was pleased to note that she kept her lips open wide, as if anticipating the next entrance of my weapon. I did not disappoint her but thrust forward slowly again, entering her with deliberation. She accepted my cock and gently nibbled on the prepuce while her tongue rolled wetly over the crown. She was an expert with her mouth, talented in all the subtleties of a professional blow job.

She was a great cocksucker, I found myself thinking, even as the blood rushed through my body and the mounting ejaculation built up until I was ready to spurt my semen into her mouth. Rapidly now it began to crest in my loins, and when I was certain that I could hold it back no longer, I withdrew my cock until the orifice of the urethra was pressed against her upper lip and her tongue continued to lick the sensitive glans. And then I ejaculated, sending some of the hot liquid right up her nose. It splashed wetly against her cheek and I could see some of it clinging lightly to her hair.

She gave no hint of dismay and continued to lick the base of my glans for a brief moment; then I shoved my still-throbbing penis back into her mouth and let it sit out the remaining spasms.

"That was very good," I said, withdrawing my now flaccid cock from her lips. "Now it is your turn to have some excitement."