Fiona's Billard's Lesson

Fiona heard voices, she told her eyes to open, but it remained completely dark. She wondered if she was blindfolded or dreaming. The voices sounded familiar, but she could not make out the words. Both her arms and legs felt restrained, but felt like they went on forever. Fiona tried to speak, but heard nothing. It didn't feel like she was gagged, but speech was impossible. It had to be a dream, but she did not seem to have the ability to consciously influence its course. The muted voices continued, but she was able to make out two words.

"Suck it."

Seconds later she felt something against her lips. It was hot and smooth, obviously a hard cock. She parted her lips and let it slide into her mouth. It wasn't a jaw stretcher like Victor's, but it filled her mouth and pressed against the back of her throat, then retreated.

The restraints kept her from being an active participant. At least she was getting penetrated, even if it was just getting mouth fucked. She picked out another word from the constant mumbling.

"Ass."

Something brushed against her cheeks. The mere thought of finally having something between her legs was enough to spawn the first twinges of a climax. Arching her back she tried to encourage whatever was happening behind her.

Victor moved silently into the room. Fiona was sprawled out on the bed face down. The sheets were crumpled at the foot of the bed and her naked body was on full display. Just enough moonlight was streaming through the window to illuminate her alluring curves. As he approached his body cast a shadow over hers.

In a flash his plans changed, or were at least delayed. He set the knotted ropes in his left hand on the floor, and then slowly approached the bed. Fiona's breathing was rapid and shallow, interrupted occasionally by a soft moan that was music to his ears. Her arms were tucked under the pillow. His attention turned to her face. She was facing towards him, her eyes were shut and her mouth was half open. He took a step back and the moonlight fell on the gentle curve of her breast. He raised the riding crop in his right hand and softly stroked the side of her tit, eliciting a moan that was wonderfully erotic. Her voice was inspiring; his mind was a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives. It was tempting to just stroke his cock until he came all over her ass, but he managed to exercise restraint.

The dream was more complex than most. Usually when she dreamt about sex it was focused on a single act. There had been dreams about blowjobs, about getting fucked, and even about getting her pussy licked, but this one was different. She was still aware of the cock in her mouth and something between her legs, but now she felt someone caressing her breasts.

There was no way the riding crop could be used for its rightful purpose without interrupting what was obviously a very enjoyable dream. Victor understood the difference between being strict and being cruel, and waking her up would be the latter. Equally off limits was giving in to the temptation to touch her, so instead he continued to stroke her with the soft leather tip of the riding crop. After covering every exposed inch of her breast he followed her rib up until he arrived at her spine, and then slowly traced it until he arrived at the small of her back. Flipping the tip over so the curve matched the contour of her ass he resumed his trek. The ropes on the floor beckoned to him; it would be easy to ensnare her limps while she was in the throes of her dream, by the time she realized what he had done it would be too late, the question was could he take her beyond the euphoria of her dream.

The snippets of this dream that she would remember would bring up questions, but now she was lost in a sea of ecstasy. Her head was impaled on a cock, and another threatened to do the same for the end of her anatomy. It would not be the first time she had accommodated two hard cocks, but this time was different. This time it was her tightest orifice that would be penetrated, and there was nothing she could do about it. The muscles in her belly contracted in delightful ways as she anticipated her ass getting stretched open.

The tip had disappeared into the shadow between her legs. The scent of her arousal had been subtle at first, but now it was intoxicating. Victor yearned to put his cock or at least his finger in the dark space where the tip of the riding crop now resided, but he dared not. The inanimate object that separated him from Fiona was all that kept his lust in check. The moment he felt the heat and wetness of her sex any attempt at self-control would be lost. In his head he repeated the mantra that delayed gratification would be worthwhile.

Fiona began to squirm, and Victor knew that meant she would not be asleep for much longer. He withdrew the riding crop, picked up the ropes and slipped out of her room with Fiona's soft moans echoing his ears.

The moment she woke up the dream began to fade away. She tried to replay it in her mind, desperate to force some of in to her long term memory, but she was still a bit woozy from her orgasm. Despite the fact she was completely nude and did not have a blanket or even a bed sheet for cover she was sweating. She made a mental note to ask Victor about the Honey Mead she had consumed, just in case it has been a contributing factor to her dream. Even though her dream had driven her to orgasm she still craved being penetrated. She rolled on to her back and put her hand between her legs, but quickly realized that her slender fingers would not satisfy her needs.

As soon as he returned to his room Victor he set down the rope and riding crop, then sat on his bed. A chorus of voices shouted in his head.

"Fuck her, fuck her brains out," shouted the loudest one, but Victor chose to listen to another, which said simply, "Good things come to those who wait."

Waiting was not in his nature, but Fiona surprised him a few times tonight, and he was curious what she was going to do. As he contemplated how long to wait before venturing back to her room the sound of footsteps came from the hallway. He slipped out of his clothes and in to bed, the sheet tented slightly by his erection.

Fiona wasn't sure why her heart was pounding. It may have been because she was so turned on, but the more likely reason was her decision to cast off the role of submissive and take the initiative. The door to his room was open; she peeked in. He was in bed, on his back. Tip toeing across the room she arrived at the foot of his bed. Upon closer inspection she noticed a bulge in the sheets that made her pussy ache. Maybe they had shared the same dream, she speculated. Gripping the sheet she slowly pulled it off his body. When the last bit of fabric cleared his feet she took a moment to look at him. Even in the dim light he was an enjoyable sight.

"Victor," she whispered.

"Yes Fiona," he replied.

"I'm here to take what I want," she said, then climbed on to the bed and straddled him.

"And what's that?"

She grabbed his cock and began to stroke it, "I'm going to ride your dick and make you come inside me."

Victor wondered if she noticed the way her directive made him shudder.

Normally she waited until she returned home to Frank before she took control, but that wasn't an option this time. Being this direct with Victor was a gamble, but the alternative was going home unsatisfied, and that was unacceptable. She pulled his cock back until it was pointing straight up, then lowered her pussy down on it. She relished the sensation of being penetrated, of her labia stretching to accommodate his thick erection. Leaning forward she grabbed his wrists, and then began to grind against him.

"That's it, that's what I want," she moaned.

It was what he wanted to. She felt hot and wet. Her breasts swayed inches from his face, but he didn't try to touch them. Fiona treating him like a sex toy was more than enough.

"Yea, that's it, stay right there while I fuck you," she whispered in his ear.

One by one he shut out everything except the feeling of being inside her. He closed his eyes so he could not see her firm breasts swinging back and forth. He tuned out the way she was pinning his arms to the mattress. The most challenging item to ignore was the sounds of her fucking him. There were several. Tuning out her moans wasn't too difficult, but it was impossible to resist the way she talked dirty to him; he filed the precious few words away to play back later. What he could not ignore, could not drown out with other thoughts was the actual sound of her riding up and down on his cock. It was a soft, wet sound and it was married to the sensation he was focused on. There was a subtle difference between the noise when she impaled herself on this throbbing erection and when she rose up and it slipped out.

Just as she had in her dream she was sweating; actually even more so. It made sense; the real world was a lot more work than dreamland. Her skin was more than just damp, beads of sweat dripped down on to Victor, but he did not seem to mind. She wondered if her legs would be sore after this unusual workout. She leaned down just enough for her breasts to rub against the curly hair on his chest. His thighs pressed upwards as his legs tensed. Fiona looked down and saw her pussy stretched around the thick base of his cock. The crevices in his abdomen were getting deeper as he tensed more muscles; she almost had what she wanted.

"Don't fight it; I want to feel you inside me."

She felt the muscles in his arms grow stiff, he clenched his teeth and furrowed his brow, but she was not deterred from her goal. She rose up again, but this time before she slid back down on to his throbbing erection she clenched the muscles in her pussy. He was about to find out that the boy shorts had been an unnecessary precaution.

What to do next was a difficult decision, having her ride his cock felt better than he imagined. He could continue to balance on the edge of ecstasy for another minute or he could surrender to her for a few brief seconds of absolute ecstasy. She was hovering above him; just the tip of his erection was inside her. This time as she sank down it felt tighter, and the struggle to stay in control was much more difficult.

"Open your eyes, I want you to look at me when you come," she insisted.

Victor complied with her order. Even though her hair was tied back a few strands had escaped, and were now pasted to the sweat soaked skin of her face.

"I want you to come inside me, I want to feel you come," she moaned.

With a low grunt he gave her what she asked for, his cock jerked and a jet of thick, hot cum spayed out. It felt like she was sucking every drop out of him as her muscles clenched down on his throbbing erection.

She felt his entire body relax, save the part that was inside her. It stayed quite rigid, and she took full advantage of that. Rocking her hips back and forth she continued to grind against him as her own climax ran its course, then collapsed on his chest.

"I can get off..." She offered, but was interrupted.

"No, no, you're fine," he replied, finally taking in all the sensations he had excluded, the most notable was the way her tits pressed against his chest.

"Did you mind?" she asked.

"Mind what?"

"That I took what I wanted instead of waiting for you to give it to me?"

"I'll allow it, for now."

Fiona looked around and noticed the ropes and riding crop, "Were those for me?"

"They are for you."

"I'm worn out and I think you have reached your limit," she said, glancing at his waning erection.

"I'll tell you when you have had enough," he replied sternly, pulled her upright.

"I can't..." she protested as he wrapped the rope around her wrist in a complicated knot.

"We shall see about that."

Once he finished with the portion of the knot that held her arm Victor picked up the second rope. She was right about one thing. He wasn't going to get hard again soon without pharmaceutical assistance, but that didn't matter. After both her arms were tied he grabbed the blindfold and slipped it on to her head.

Not being able to see wasn't much of a change, there was very little light in the room. She felt him spin her around a few times, and then push her backwards. She fell on to the bed.

Once she was supine again he picked up the last two ropes and started on her ankles. This knot was even more complex than what he had used on her wrists. He pulled the rope snug; she was lying across the bed with her head almost hanging off one side and her feet on the opposite edge. Even in the dim light he saw that her pussy was not in the same condition as when she had been toying with it. Next he adjusted the blindfold to ensure she could not see, and after taking a few moments to admire his handiwork Victor picked up the leather wrapped riding crop.

Fiona was both annoyed and intrigued. Her first instinct was to give him the safe word so he would stop and she could go to sleep, but curiosity won out. She wanted to see what he had in mind. Now both of her legs were spread apart, but the knots were so expertly tied that she only felt a mild pressure where the rope was cinched down on her flesh. She was so focused on the way he had tied her up that she let out a yelp of surprise when the riding crop slapped against her breast.

The high pitched squeal told him things were off to a good start, that he had caught her off guard. The challenge was to keep it that way. Lifting the riding crop off her breast he tapped it against her left wrist, then slide it along her arm, across her shoulder and slapped the leather tip against her neck. His efforts caused her to squeal again.

All she could feel was the riding crop, and when it was gone there was nothing. It brushed against her left cheek, and then skipped over to the right. She wondered if this was all he could manage, or if he was just keeping her occupied until his cock was hard again. Now that she thought about it there was one other thing she could feel, and that was a bit of soreness between her legs. Apparently there was a price to pay for riding his thick cock with such wild enthusiasm. If there was any justice in the world, she thought, he would be equally sore. The riding crop returned, this time slapping against her ribs. Her nipples began to stiffen and the exhausted muscles in her belly stirred to life.

Fiona heard a metallic click and a slight hiss, but could not imagine what the source was.

"Ready for something new?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good."

"Shit!" she exclaimed. Something hot was touching her breast. It cooled quickly, but seconds later she felt the same sensation on her other tit.

"Should I stop, or does that mean you like it?" He teased, daring her to say the safe word.

"What is it?"

"Candle wax," he replied, not bothering to explain it was specifically designed for the application. Even in its molten state it was a few degrees below the temperature that would cause a burn. He tipped the candle over and watches another drop splash on to her skin just above her navel.

"It's hot," she replied.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she said, wincing at he created a circular pattern around her belly button. Now that that she knew what to expect it wasn't as shocking. Each drop was closer to her pussy, and she briefly thought back to the salon and the hot wax they had used. This was different. It was hot, but not to the point of being painful. And unlike the saloon, once the wax cooled there wasn't any more pain.

Holding the candle at arm's length he walked around the foot of the bed. She was close enough to the edge of the bed that the flame remained above her body the entire time. The trail of wax went down her left thigh, then doubled back. It formed a puddle just above her clitoris, and then continued to her right thigh.

"Still think you are worn out?"

"No," she replied, intrigued by the new sensation.

The hot-but-not-quite-painful drops of wax had consumed so much of her attention that once again she was surprised by the riding crop slapping against the side of her breast. It followed the same path the candle had. Later she would wonder how he managed to wield both the candle and riding crop at the same time, but for now she was so close to sensory overload that such thoughts were impossible.

A smile spread across his face as Victor watched her react. The candle was essentially on autopilot, stuck in a holder that was connected to her restraints. Each time she pulled against the rope the candle bobbed up and down, dripping wax somewhere between her neck and her navel. The riding crop, however, was still under his control. He alternated between whipping the side of her breasts hard enough to turn the skin pink and tapping her erect nipples. When both her tits had a top to bottom patchwork of welts he followed the waxy trail down her body. Someday he would turn her over and repeat the entire process on her back side, whipping her firm, round ass instead of her full breasts, but not tonight.

The skin from her neck to her knees stung in a wonderful way, but those sensations were fading. He stopped, and she was trying to imagine what he would do next. He didn't keep her in suspense for long. His lips pressed against her abdomen, and then his tongue flicked against her skin. Soon it was navigating between the archipelagos of wax islands that dotted the sea of naked skin that was her body.

Fiona cried out when a large blob of molten wax splattered on to her right nipple, completely coating it. Victor quickly snuffed out the candle; he didn't want anything to distract her from what he was doing. When the last ember on the wick turned dark he resumed he efforts.

The wax cooled quickly, her reaction was out of surprise, not pain. She could feel the wax harden, and there was a distinct difference between the ways her two nipples felt. Soon that was forgotten as Victor's tongue brushed against her clitoris and his finger parted her labia. She thrust her hips towards him, hoping to feel his lips against her sensitive flesh, or drive his finger deep into her pussy, but he pulled back. She tried again, but her muscles were fatigued from the night's activities, and each attempt was weaker than the one before it. Finally exhausted, she stopped trying. He slipped a second finger inside her and his tongue circled her clit with a bit more pressure. Even in her exhausted state there were some muscles that found a second wind.

"Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes," she moaned as his ministrations coaxed the muscles that would make her come back to life. His fingertip reached her G spot and his tongue was dancing on her clit.

Victor fought the urge to smile as he felt her pussy clinch down on his fingers. He had proven her wrong; she was not as worn out as she had thought. He would enjoy reminding her of that fact almost as much as he was enjoying the way her sex felt.

"Oh, oh, oh, don't stop, I'm going to come, don't stop, don't stop," she pleaded as her orgasm crested and the crashed down on her. She pulled on her restraints and thrashed about on the bed as endorphins surged through her body. Gradually the feeling of euphoria faded away.

"Now I think you are done," he said, "but I'm not done with you yet."

Fiona did not have to wonder for long what he meant. She felt the engorged head of his cock press against her mouth. She parted her lips and let it slip inside. The orientation was the same as if they were 69ing, but with her hands tied she had no control of what happened.

Seeing her lips wrapped around his erection always gave him a thrill. He was hard enough that he could have fucked her, but this was going to be better. Making her deep throat him was an option, but he decided against it. Instead he just slipped the tip in and out of her mouth.