At Suki's Ch. 02

So there I was, on my hands and knees, eating Suki's pussy. My own pussy was soaked, and I yearned for it to be filled with something hard. I thought of Suki's black strap-on, and hoped she would deign to fuck me with it again, as she had before. The very thought of it made me bite and suck her clit with renewed urgency.

I was feeling feverish, and blood was pounding in my temples. I was dizzy; it was so hard to breathe with the corset I was wearing laced up so tightly. Suki had made it for me, as she had the rest of the clothes I was wearing: the silk blouse that conformed to the narrow waist the corset gave me while cupping my breasts, which seemed so much larger now in proportion to my new figure, in soft pouches, white, translucent pillows of silk; the obscenely short skirt which barely covered the curve of my ass,-- accentuated by the corset, which made me stick it out -- and did not reach the tops of the thigh-high stockings I wore. And of course, the leather collar strapped around my neck, to which the leash Suki held was attached. She had been walking me around the room like a prize pony, or an obedient dog eager for attention.

The truth is, even though the position Suki had put me in was completely humiliating, leashed and chained as I was, it had awakened an arrogance in me nonetheless, a confidence that I should strutting myself around like I was purely sexual, like I was an animal was irresistible mating call would make all the other animals chase me and beautiful cunt.

And I felt like a mere animal; all I could think about was my wet cunt, and fucking, while I licked like crazy at Suki's pussy, licking until I knew she was coming, wishing I was coming too. I was feeling almost jealous, and I thought about biting her clit right off, so hungry was I for my own to be loved and sucked and licked and played with.

But this wasn't to be. I waited patiently, staring at myself in the revealing clothes so unlike anything I typically wear, while Suki bathed herself. Even though she didn't require it, I stayed on my hands and knees, preferring to stay in an animalistic mode. I reached back underneath the skirt and played with myself, all the time watching myself in the mirror, dreaming Suki was behind me, taking me doggy-style with her strap-on cock.

I was on the brink of making myself come, when Suki reappeared. "You stop that!" she said in her accented English, her sultry voice taking on a note of impatience. "Naughty American girl, always thinking of herself." She clapped her hands, and looked at me in the mirror. "You a real slut," she said.

She grabbed my leash and pulled me up to my feet. "Stand up," she said. "We see what a slut you are."

She told me to put my arms behind my back, and then she bound my wrists together with what felt like an elastic silk. It didn't hurt, but it made it impossible for me to bring my hands back in front of my body. Standing like that, totally vulnerable, seemed to amuse Suki. "Look at my big American whore," she said, lifting my skirt to stare at my gleaming, glistening wet cunt. "You'll do good."

I didn't fully know what she meant, until she finally led me outside, out into her neighborhood in the city. Never before had I felt so ashamed, appearing in public as I was dressed, where any slight breeze would blow up my skirt and show my cunt to everyone who bothered to notice. And they would see how wet I would be, how hopelessly shameless I was. It couldn't be worse if I was totally naked, scampering through the streets.

And it was obvious to everyone that I was involved in some kind of crazy sex game with another woman, seeing as Suki was leading me along by leash. I wasn't the type who liked for everyone to know my lesbian tendencies, so this was extremely embarrassing to me. We didn't even make it to the corner before we passed people in the street, all Asians, who all stared at me like I was from Mars. Some of them stared, some quickly looked down at the ground, others laughed and nudged each other, nodding over at the spectacle that I was. All of this made me blush deep red with shame, and all of it made me wetter and wetter. The corset made it hard for me to take in much air, too, so I was already dizzy and ready to swoon.

My nipples were so hard, I thought they would pierce the silk. They were plain to see for anyone passing by. I longed to cover myself, but my hands were bound.

Suki led me to an big open-aired market, where there were throngs of people and a myriad of booths selling everything from vegetables to socks to computer manuals to translations of the Koran to jewelry to butchered pigs. It was the strangest bazaar I had ever seen, made stranger by the fact that no one communicated in English. I seemed to be the only American there. As Suki led me through the crowd, men began to have there way with me surreptitiously, tweaking my obviously hard nipples, caressing my stockinged thighs, patting my ass. The more daring of them darted their hands up my skirt and grabbed what they could. I could hear them laughing and cavorting with each other as we passed.

I came to feel like a complete object, like just another one of things for sale there, to be handled and squeezed and played with as the customers saw fit. I was partially furious, but partially I felt responsible, as if my complete arousal was drawing people to me, inviting them to touch me, to fondle my vulnerable body. I still didn't feel natural in the posture the corset forced me to assume, with my breasts and ass thrust out on either side of me. My hands tied behind my back only accentuated this pose, which felt extremely lewd and enticing to me.

A wrinkled old man began to talk to Suki, and they carried out a long discussion in Japanese that I couldn't understand. During the course of it Suki let him touch my breasts and lift my skirt, whereupon he plunged a short stubby finger into my soaking pussy and then smelled it. He nodded to Suki, and talked some more. Finally Suki tugged my leash and said, "Say something. He think you're typically Russian whore. Say something to show you're American."

I didn't know what to say. I stood there dumbfounded for a moment, until Suki pulled the leash again, jerking my neck and making me stumble. "Say something, stupid," she said.

"My name is Karen Gratton. I live in New York. I was born in Nebraska . . ."

The Japanese man cut me off and started talking to Suki in Japanese again, and she nodded and laughed, and then she was leading me by the neck to an alley around the corner from the bazaar. There, in the alley, amidst the smell of rotting fruit and spent cooking oil, Suki pushed me over a stack of pallets. I felt my skirt get lifted, and then the Japanese man began to fuck me from behind. I was both startled, humiliated, and extremely turned on, and the moment he stuck his cock in me I knew it would make me come. I was already so pent up from walking around in the outfit and from having my face buried in Suki's cunt before.

While he fucked me, in quick jerking spasms, I watched Suki's face as she held the leash. She was smiling her strange, enigmatic smile, staring back at me. "Fuck the American whore," she said, lowly, more to me than to the man, who was far too busy reaming me to pay much attention.

I began to gasp from the force with which he was hitting my back side, pushing me against the pallets, forcing what little air I could get into my lungs out. Moaning, tears rolling down my face, now, from both humiliation and joy at being so close to coming, I continued to grind against the pallets, continued to watch Suki's face. "Oh, God," I said to her, "Fuck me. Please fuck me." It had been a long time since a man's cock was in me. I watched Suki and dreamed it was hers; that it was her doing it to me.

I couldn't believe what was happening to me. I had hard time making eye contact with the women I have first dates with, but here I was being used violently in an alley by a perfectly repugnant strange old Japanese man, and not only that, he was going to make me come, which no man had ever done. The man kept fucking me, and when he began to jerk with his orgasm, it triggered something me, and I began to quiver uncontrollably, then shake, the force of a long-building orgasm surging through me, so strong I though the corset might burst apart. "Ohhh," I moaned as I spent myself.