An Interview with Charity DeSade

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Two women test each other's wills in a wicked game of BDSM.
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DPMaster
DPMaster
74 Followers

Copyright 2017 Matt Nicholson. All rights reserved.

Disclaimer - This is a story about two women who play fast and hard. "Hard" meaning just that. The BDSM might be a little rougher than some people prefer, or it might not. It depends on your tastes. I just wanted to make sure you were warned. No sense getting bad ratings from people who prefer romance and a little light flogging to the more rough and tumble stuff if you can avoid it, after all. In any case, please let me know what you think. Best! ~Matt~

*****

Arin Jefferson, known to most of the world as "Charity DeSade," lay naked across the brown, brushed leather couch in her fourth weekend home's media room with her bare feet propped on the sofa's arm. Her latest concert played on the 103" plasma TV. Music blared through the room's dozen or so speakers with the excited sounds of the crowd muted in the background. She'd long since stopped watching herself and her other band members. She preferred instead to watch the four women off to the sides of the stage.

All four were dressed the same. Skimpy black pasties barely covered their nipples. Equally skimpy black thong bikinis exposed just enough of their shaved pussy lips to make her mouth water. Spiked leather collars gave them the whole slave vibe. And black, leather, platform heels made their perfect, long legs look even longer.

Two of the girls twirled suede leather floggers. The other two drooled around glowing ball gags, their wrists manacled high over their heads to glittering poles and their legs spread wide with matching ankle spreaders. Their skin was decorated with pink lines where the suede straps had already touched. Whether the floggers wrapped around their nearly naked bottoms or their heavy breasts, both bound women writhed energetically, making sure the crowd got an eyeful of wildly bouncing boobs and curvaceous, jiggling bottoms.

As the concert continued its frantic pace, the perfectly paced close-ups showed their curvy flesh becoming increasingly red. By the time Arin's recorded self bounced across the stage in her tight leather hot pants and vest and snatched a flogger from one of the lady punisher's hands, both the bound women's best parts were covered in crimson lash marks. She slowed the playback down and dropped the remote beside her. Then she slid one hand up her belly to her breast, tweaking a nipple while her other hand found her clit.

What had started out as a sideshow gimmick had become Arin's favorite part of the show, and she always looked forward to treating the audience to a frenzied three minutes of lashing that left the tied women thrashing, their chests and backsides lashed so thoroughly they'd bruise. Arin always tossed the whip into the stands before she danced back to her guitar to blow the crowd out of the auditorium with an epic finale. They had no idea how much will it took for her to leave the flogging behind.

The on-stage BDSM may not have been quite as controversial as biting off bats' heads or satanic rituals, but the whole girl on girl sadomasochistic thing certainly turned heads and drew crowds. Once her road manager figured out which cities would ban them and which wouldn't, it was just a matter of figuring how long the girls took to recover and finding enough of them to rotate from show to show. At the moment, she had nine on the payroll. She just needed one more to fill out her "harem," as everyone called it.

"Harem" was a bit of an overstatement. It wasn't that she went to bed with them all. There were a couple that got the gig in other ways, but - by and large - there weren't many of them she didn't "interview" first. The job was to be tied up nearly naked and flogged in front of tens and thousands of people, after all - and that wasn't counting the recordings and broadcasts. Most of them expected, and even wanted, the chance to play in Charity DeSade's bed. Even so, the turnover rate was high enough that she seldom tried any girl more than once. It was better that way.

She glanced down from the massive screen. Not bothering to let go of her breast, she checked the time on her Feldo. If this evening was true to form, the chimes would ring within moments and the groupie-of-the-day - chosen from the usual crowd of back stage admirers - would stroll in wearing nothing but the fur coat Arin had draped over her shoulders four hours earlier. They'd let word get out that she always gave one lucky "admirer" a fur coat after each concert as an invitation to interview. What "word" hadn't mentioned was what they usually had to do to get the job.

Almost on cue, the rich-sounding door chime rang. Arin smiled to herself as she punched off the TV, and shifted on the sofa. Recalling the pretty face, long blonde hair, athletic body and luscious, fat tits that were about to come through the door, she shook her shoulder length blonde hair back and licked her lips. She wondered how this one would react when she saw Arin naked on the couch, then she thought for a second about the ways her newest prospect might earn a spot on the pole.

"Come in . . ." She looked at the name scrawled in smeared ballpoint ink across her palm, ". . . Trina. It's open."

As the door latch clicked and the door started to swing open, she licked the smeared ink and wiped her hand several times across the back of the couch, eradicating Trina's name. She smiled as the other woman pushed the door closed behind her. As instructed, she wore just the fur. She still had the thin, silver, lip ring that caught Arin's attention earlier. With one piercing there were usually others, and most women that had multiple piercings liked to play rough. It was that promise that led her to give Trina the nod over a hot little Hispanic brunette with mountainous tits that would have been heaven to flog.

Arin beckoned the girl forward. When the pretty little groupie got close enough, Arin reached towards a nearby end table and picked up a pink wine glass she'd filled with a fruity 1982 rose. With a slow glance at Arin's naked body, Trina took the extended glass and looked around at the surprisingly austere decor before sipping.

"Nice place. Come here often?"

The rocker smiled at her guest's casual tone. She'd seen the way the girl's eyes had hovered over all the right places. She gestured toward the burning fireplace. Even though both women were naked, or nearly so, there was no way she couldn't have known Arin's intentions. That said, she seemed completely calm and ready to play. If Trina had any clue what Arin was thinking, Arin wondered if she would have been so casual. Regardless, if all went as planned - as it almost always did - they'd have the entire weekend to play. Even if Trina caved after just one evening, "Charity DeSade" had a hell of an evening planned.

"Sit down. Get comfortable."

Trina shrugged out of the coat and let it slide down her arms to the floor as if it was nothing more than a K-Mart special. A ring hung from Trina's right nipple, just as Arin had expected.

Trina watched Arin's gaze travel from her long, silken hair; over her full, white, breasts' lightly jiggling curves, around her freshly-shaved pussy, and down her lithe legs. Once Arin had taken in the view, Trina knelt gracefully in front of the fireplace. She took a longer sip of wine before setting the glass on the red brick stoop. Arin caught a quick glimpse of thin, pink folds peeking from between the taller woman's fatter ones. Trina's eyes lit with mischief as she crossed her legs and leaned forward on her hands.

Making certain her unspoiled breasts - the only parts of her that hadn't been touched by the sun - swayed tantalizingly, she looked up at the rock star. "So, are you going to tie me up and whip me now, or did you want to fuck first?"

Arin blinked. "Say what?"

Trina laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound, full of playfulness and promise. "We both know I'm here so I can say I fucked Charity DeSade. And, you invited me here so you can add me to the list of women who have danced on the end of your whip. It's all about bragging rights and conquest, or we wouldn't be naked already. I just thought you might want to skip the chit-chat and spice this interview up a little."

It was Arin's turn to laugh. Since they were being candid, she pulled a length of white nylon rope from beneath the seat cushion. She hadn't expected to need it for a while, but she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Who says all I'm gonna do is whip you?"

She stood and walked towards Trina. She stretched the rope with an intimidating pop and looked pointedly at the other woman's boobs. "Lots of women want this job. What are you willing to do to get it?"

Trina smiled knowingly. She held her wrists out and pressed them together to make Arin's job easy. "Whatever you want." It sounded like a dare.

Arin's smile echoed Trina's as she quickly wrapped the extended wrists very securely. Once she was done, her guest slid forward on her hands and arched catlike to her knees. She drew her wrists up between Arin's bare thighs and teased the inside lower curves of her bottom with her thumbnails. Her lips found Arin's pussy. As the pads of her thumbs closed on the lower reaches of Arin's labia, she breathed. Her hot breath flowed over the warm, wet folds ahead of it. Arin closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of her nipples getting harder. Trina's mouth pressed in.

Arin forced herself to look down through half-lidded eyes. Trina looked mischievous as she mouthed Arin's pussy and breathed more warmth over it. The girl's silky hair draped down her back. Her smooth calves and bare feet extended behind the inviting curves of her bottom. When she saw Arin watching, her lips curved into a wicked smile. She arched her back and pushed away to revealed more of her round, bare rear.

Arin always played her scenes out, but Trina was doing a good job of breaking her resolve. Imagining the other woman's tongue working her, Arin slid her hands up her ribs and squeezed her breasts until they just started to ache. Then she twisted her nipples until a flash of pain shot back through them. Trina was grinning up at her like a Cheshire cat with a look of triumph in her eyes.

Thinking she'd taken control, the groupie stretched out with the intent of rolling onto her back. Growing passion or not, Arin's determination came back. She never let anyone else control her. She forced a frown and shook her head. "Oh, no! I have other plans for you."

Before Trina could react, Arin leapt and caught Trina by the wrists. Off balance, the other woman fell onto her knees and staggered forward. Charity DeSade backed down the short hallway to the "guest" bedroom, pulling Trina by the wrists so she shuffled along on her knees behind her. Though she might have lost her lead, Trina's eyes still danced. She made she each jerky movement bobble her tits hard.

When Arin noticed the bemused look on her "victim's" face, she hauled her not too gently to her feet and pushed her backward. Trina landed with a hard thud on a padded chair at the foot of an elaborate, hand-wrought, four-poster bed.

"For someone that's in the hands of a perfect stranger, you're acting pretty confident."

Trina shrugged, a tantalizing gesture given the size of her breasts. She held her bound hands close to her belly and her arms tightly against her sides as Arin started to wrap her into the chair with another length of the same rope.

"Why shouldn't I be? 'Charity DeSade' won't ruin her future for one piece of ass. This is going to be fun."

Her condescending tone struck a nerve, spurring Arin to take handfuls both Trina's pallid breasts and squeeze them hard. The violent movement shook Trina forward. A quiet exclamation blew through the girl's lips before she could stop it. Once the surprise had faded, however, Trina pushed her tits into Arin's hands and smiled. A similar thin smile spread across Arin's lips.

Now confident she was safe playing hard, she took the woman's left nipple between her fingers. While looking her in the eyes, she twisted and squeezed the delicate flesh. When Trina met her gaze with one of defiance, Arin pinched it harder and rolled it without regard to any pain she might be causing. While deciding exactly what she was going to do next, Arin listened to Trina try to breathe through the pain and enjoyed the thick, rubbery feel of the girl's tender flesh crushing in her fingertips.

"Maybe I'm not willing to ruin my future, but I'm damn sure willing to pit my word against the word of some groupie wannabe to make sure I get that fur coat's worth of fun." In order to make her point, she snagged the nipple ring. "I'm willing to bet I can ruin something of yours for enough money." To make her point, she yanked and twisted.

Trina sucked a deep breath, but instead of crying out or complaining, she shifted forward, trying to grind her bare crotch against the chair's red felt upholstery.

Her voice was husky, teasing. "Maybe. But wouldn't it be more fun to, say..." Her gaze fell on her left nipple, now fully erect and surrounded by a wide circle of tight, dark wrinkles and bumps. "...pierce the other side?"

Arin did her best not to act surprised at the blatant invitation. Trina had no idea what Arin might do - or use - in reply. She felt her own nipples give her away, becoming just as tight as her guest's at the thought. She tried to make her laugh sound condescending, and she forced nonchalance into her step as she turned away and strolled to a nearby dresser.

Knowing the other woman was watching her every move, Arin gave up on wiping off the moisture that threatened to trickle from between her tingling pussy lips. Instead, she pulled a large, stainless steel safety pin from inside a drawer. By the time she returned to Trina, she'd popped it open. Holding the sharp, gleaming tip menacingly so there was no doubt what she had in mind for the un-pierced nipple, Arin smiled.

"I'll take your bet and double it."

She took the undecorated nub between her fingers and tugged. Trina surprised Arin yet again by snapping at the tip of her host's breast as if she was trying to bite her nipple. She missed by hardly an inch. It was all Arin could do not to push her nipple into the woman's warm mouth. Instead, she burrowed her fingertips into Trina's warm, fat flesh. The feeling combined with the view to make her pussy clenched and start to tingle.

Trina laughed again and pushed her trapped breast into Arin's hand. "Go for it. That coat's pockets will hold a lot of money."

Arin shifted her grip to the bottom of Trina's nipple. She hesitated only long enough to make sure Trina watched before she dragged the sharp end of the safety pin across the base of the trapped nub. By the time the pin caught between two tight wrinkles, Arin held her breath. Looking at the tip's location as the perfect place to start, Arin took a long breath, calming herself. In the three years since she'd been a sensation, she'd done a lot of crazy things and had a lot of crazy sex, but she'd never done anything this crazy, or gotten this horny, this fast.

She started to push. "Lucky for me, I have lots of money to fill them with."

For several seconds, Trina's skin refused to yield. Her eyelids fluttered and her breathing became faster as Arin pressed harder. The nipple was tougher than Arin expected - or the pin wasn't as sharp as she'd thought. In either case, she pinched and pushed harder. Trina groaned as the pain got worse, then she gasped when the pin finally popped through. When Arin worked it deeper into her nipple, the gasp morphed into a barely controlled moan.

After a few seconds, Arin was so horny she consider forgetting foreplay entirely once the safety pin was latched. Determined to draw it out, she straddled one of Trina's legs and lowered herself until her wet pussy crushed on the pretty woman's knee. Then, grinding in a slow roll, she gradually pushed the sharp steel through the trapped nipple.

She let the pain get more severe until the skin on the opposite side started to stretch. When it did, Trina's moan became more desperate. It wasn't until Arin gave the pin a final shove and the safety pin's tip popped out that Trina cried out. Arin centered the violated nipple down the length of the pin and latched it. She'd never done anything that made her so excited. Desperate to find an excuse to get away long enough to finger herself back into control, she gave it a brutal twist and stood up.

"I'll give you some time to get used to your new jewelry." She was gone before Trina could gather enough breath to reply.

Once Arin got out of the room and out of sight, she fell backward against the wall and started mauling her left breast. She stuck two fingers as deep inside herself as she could. While tearing at her nipple, she finger-fucked her pussy and ravished her clit with her thumb. It took no time before she felt an orgasm start to build. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she slid down the wall until her legs spread wide and her bottom pressed onto her heels. Seconds later, the first wave of her climax washed over her.

She barely heard the wet slapping her fingers made through the ringing in her ears. She ground her fingernails into the base of her nipple and rubbed her clit harder, faster. As the climax gathered strength, she dropped to her butt and bit her lip until it all but bled to keep from moaning loud enough for Trina to hear. After a couple of glorious minutes, her pussy stopped contracting and the climax mirrored the movement of her fingers, slowing and growing lighter until she was done.

Once she caught her breath, she wiped her hand on the carpet and slid back up the wall to a shaky stand. When she thought it was safe to walk, she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a towel. While wiping herself dry, she looked through the drawers until she found what she wanted.

By the time she got back, Trina had regained her own composure and was looking at the new adornment. She acted unconcerned, as if this piercing had been no different than the more surgically prepared one on the other side. But Arin was sure the woman's shaved pussy was more swollen and flushed, as if she may have enjoyed her couple of minute's solitude the same way Arin had.

Now that she was back in some semblance of control, Arin felt an odd sense of sadistic need take over. She pulled the long fireplace lighter from behind her back and flicked the trigger. Looking forward to a real reaction that would show she was back in charge, she watched the flame blossom blue, yellow, and orange.

"Now, let's see just how tough you are." She was pleased to see an honest look of worry crease Trina's brow.

Still, she held her breast still and voiced a brave, "I can take anything you can dish out."

Arin put the flame on the coiled end of the safety pin and let it heat. "Oh, I doubt that..."

Within moments, Trina's lips parted. She didn't bother being subtle as she tucked her hands between her legs and anxiously started rubbing. Just as it looked as if she would cry out, Arin trailed the flame lightly across Trina's nipple itself.

For all her bravado, Trina finally broke. Pulling back just a little, she breathed out a clipped... "Please..." Her voice was hoarse, her tone almost desperate. Arin could tell her limit was close.

Moving the flame to the other nipple, she played 'Charity DeSade' for all she was worth by waving the fire from side to side so it just barely danced over the stiff nub. "Please...what? Please keep going?"

Trina sucked in a deep breath, slammed her eyes closed and again tried to hold her breasts still. Even so, they jiggled ever so slightly with each heartbeat and with a slight shaking of pain. "Please..." she started again.

Arin moved the flame down the breast's lower curve then quickly across to the other nipple. "Please?"

DPMaster
DPMaster
74 Followers
12