Grease, Sex & Triumphs

Using my jacket to pull me to my feet she leaned forward her mouth clamping down on mine her tongue forcing it way into my abraded mouth. I sucked it in and returned her kiss with all of the fervour and heat that she was generating in me. She allowed my tongue into her mouth and I used that opportunity to good effect. By the time we parted she was looking equally as hot and bothered, lips swollen with desire and heat.

Her hand clamped down onto my shirtfront and snagged a nipple between thumb and finger. After a few experimental twists she was able to find exactly that level of squeeze that would bring me gasping onto my toes. As she applied this new knowledge she again clamped down on my mouth sucking in my gasps as she increased the pressure on my nipple. When she tried the same procedure on the other nipple she easily swallowed the cry that the increased sensitivity of a piercing created. Moving slowly and using my nipples as some sort of simple guidance system she backed me up against the brick wall and kicked my feet apart as I leaned back against the cool stone.

"I work on bikes but Grandpa was a truck & car mechanic. I kept this because you never know when a set of lifting gear will come in handy."

As she spoke she unwound a set of well-oiled chains from a wall catch. I followed their run and saw that an old style engine lift block & tackle was bolted onto a track running the length of the workshop. "Take off your belt." she snapped out. I slipped the leather from the loops of my jeans and laid it out across my forearm, presenting it to her. She grinned. "Manners as well? I I'm definitely going to enjoy this." She took hold of my wrists and expertly wrapped the belt around them, a look of pleasure coming over her face as she found the extra hole in exactly the right place to hold it snug around my wrists. Moving forward she ran her hands up along my sides raising my hands and hooking the belt around them into the snatch shackle attached to the chains. She pulled on the chains, not to bring me up onto my toes but just so as my bent arms swung just above my head.

Satisfied she wound the chains around the wall stop and leaned back against a workbench. "You really are overdressed for what I have in mind I think." With that she reached behind her and picked up a skinning knife pulling it slowly free of its leather sheath. In that moment I remembered a whole lot of things - I didn't know her last name, had no idea of where I was and the basic principles of safety that I spent my working live imprinting into other people had somehow been totally disregarded in the heat of what had already occurred. Was I about to become a headline? She must have seen a flash of concern in my eyes, she laughed as she moved over and wordlessly showed me the quick release that I could reach on the chains. "Yep I guess in all the excitement we missed that bit about safety and stuff. Don't worry 'M' knows exactly where you are and I'm not a psychotic killer." With that she moved behind and ran the knife up my spine, the light t-shirt parting under the blade.

She whistled, "Nice art!" running fingers over the black ink which ran down one side of my body. I felt her step back from me and a subdued flash of light broke the dimness. Moving round me she held up the phone showing me the pic, a body halo'd in light hanging from chains, dark tattoos distinctive, the outline of the bike in the shadows outside the ring of light. Normally I hate photo's of myself but this semi anonymous shot was admittedly pretty good. "I'll send it to 'M'' shall I. She'd get a kick out of that." With a couple of quick motions of her thumb it was done. Glad my face wasn't in that shot. Anybody could have those tatts after all. Well anybody who'd spent a fortune on custom artwork anyway. Seconds later her phone chirped softly. She looked at the screen and laughed. "'M' says don't do anything I wouldn't do. About the only limit I know 'M' has is that she wouldn't actually kill anyone so that still leaves me a fair amount of leeway don't you think?"

Shaking slightly, not with fear, but with anticipation sweat started to bead and then to roll down my face and flanks. I knew exactly how much leeway there was and how wide those imposed boundaries were. Instantly I flashed back to a night where in a miasma of sweat, blood, lust and mindless desire 'M' with nothing more than an achingly sharp clasp knife and a belt had forever marked both my skin and my soul. While not easily detectable I wore those marks with pride and at times just seeing them in the mirror could bring on a surge of adrenalin. Five small curved scars, marking the boundaries of her of her fingers as she held me down, each individually earned with an act of pain and pleasure.

The final and largest scar of that set was different, imposed after a weekend when I had held her as she mourned. A weekend, where if I wasn't holding her, she was trying to fuck the pain away or kill me in the boxing ring. Alternatively open, vulnerable, angry, challenging, demanding and combative. Normally I wouldn't let anyone in that type of space near me with a knife but she needed to shed blood in order to begin to heal. She had wanted to ride out hard and fast and I simply knew if she got on the bike I would never see her again. So I hid the keys and offered up my body in sacrifice. What are friends for if not to shed a little blood for each other. A beginning to healing came with single slash marking the base of her hand as she held me down, simultaneously deep inside me and screaming her anger and grief. I earned the other five scars but that one we earned together.

My eyes must have glazed over slightly during my little flashback because the next thing I know is that I was dancing on my toes as the chains were pulled up with a jerk. My arms fully extended and under stress, rising up onto toes scrabbling for purchase to ease the weight pulling on my shoulders. "J" is in my face; not saying a word, her hand reaching out, takes hold of the piercing and twists it slowly pulling my entire body forward. I give an involuntary jerk, trying to ease the pressure on my nipple, but only succeed in nearly pulling my shoulders out of their sockets. I freeze and we are eye to eye, each looking deeply into to each other, until with a tug she pulls me closer and opening her lips slightly she kisses me. Her tongue and teeth working open my abraded mouth, nipping at my lips, her fingers tweaking at the piercing until I groan against her mouth. At this her tongue enters me and her spare hand moves behind my head holding it in place as her tongue continues to snake around my mouth.

Pressed up against me I feel her hips twitch as I rub my self against the cock that she still wears. I feel her smile against my mouth and then using her knees and boots she kicks my feet apart. Now even the tiniest purchase I had with my toes is gone and I drop another fraction and the strain on my shoulders increases again. Instinctively I try to scrabble my feet together and with slightly more force she kicks them apart again.

Removing her hand from the back of my head she reaches down and moves her cock rocking it back and forward between my legs. Unable to get purchase with my feet I am helpless to do anything but spasmodically jerk forwards trying to get hold of it to ease the ache in my cunt. An ache that is almost starting to exceed the one in my shoulders. She whispers against my lips, "you want it?"

Unable to form a coherent reply I just nod. She whispers again, "Be careful of what you wish for."

She moves around behind me I hear drawers opening and the sound of zippers and studs being released. A spotlight comes on and all other lights are extinguished. The spotlight picks out a workbench that has been dragged into the middle of the workshop beside the bike. Toolboxes are stacked neatly under it, chains connecting them to eyebolts that have been drilled into its substantial legs. Its surface however, other than for an industrial sized can of lube, is clear.

She stands at the edge of the darkness, her face obscured, the buttons of her shirt open to the waist, the lean muscles of her belly picked out in the light. The fly of her Levis is open and its apparent that she's changed her packing cock for one that will be more suitable for the robust activities still to come.

From behind her back she brings forth again the skinning knife. Moving around the circle of light until she's behind me. "Are you sentimental about these jeans?"

"Huh? No, I guess not." Thinking to myself, "I might bloody well be after tonight." Her fingers pulled at the waistband of the jeans and with a slight tearing sound the knife pushed through the worn material until the point touched sensitive flesh. The angle of the blade turned and I felt the denim part before it as it moved down my butt. The blade was ice cold against over-heated flesh. It tracked downwards then changed trajectory. I drew breathe in sharply as the blade passed the most delicate areas of my anatomy. She hesitated slightly and then lifted and gently gently twisted it so that it wormed its way between delicate curtains of flesh. Breathing gently on my neck, whispering, "Don't move, and don't even tremble, its sharp, very, very sharp. I don't want to have to stop what I'm doing to stitch you back together, so stay very still." I froze holding my breath, not game to even draw the slightest whisper of a breath. She eased the blade forward again and sliced the jeans all the way to the base of the zipper. The jeans still held up but they now offered no protection or impedance to her access. She ran her hand through the gap lightly running her fingers through the dampness and spreading me open with finger and thumb. Then turning away she pulled on the chains again so that again my boots scrabbled for a purchase just out of reach.

With that she moved slightly forward pulling my head down so that her face was so close to mine I could just see her eyes. Again the whisper, "do you want it?" "my voice was raspy and low, the reply catching in my throat, "oh hell yes!"

With a chuckle she adjusted herself, standing right up close she pulled her cock up between my legs, just enough for it to catch, Even with my legs apart, I'm slightly taller. Tall enough so that it's only the last inch of her cock that is inside of me. And it's not enough, not nearly enough. Maddeningly she grabs the piercing with finger and thumb and starts to rock my body just slightly on the chains. Just enough so that she's fucking me with just one inch of cock. She doesn't move, she just rocks my body back and forward, the pain in my shoulders, in my nipple and the unfilled aching in my cunt all combining until I'm moaning and making short primal grunts. Frustration and pain and the pure want of her combine taking me into a head space where I cannot help but demand and beg for release.

I try pulling my legs up to lock them around her waist but she twists the nipple and pulls it sharply sideways so that pulling off her cock I spin around on my chains until I am facing away from her. The twisted chains now pulling me even further from the floor.

Her cock is now pressed up between the cheeks of my butt and her arms snake around my waist lifting me slightly and easing momentarily the pressure on my abused shoulders. I feel the breath behind my ear, "told you to be careful about what you wished for."

All of a sudden the pressure on my shoulders released and I heard the run of chains as they slid through the block. I shrug and move, getting the blood flowing back into my arms, but barely have I got the blood flowing before the block starts to run along its track and the chains pull me along with it. The chains continue to tighten pulling me up to the end of the workbench and then further so that I am bent half forward over the bench arms stretched into the air in front of me. Again I hear the click of a phone and a chuckle. Again the phone is thrust before my eyes, eventually I focus, the picture almost abstract in its black and white representation of the scene. My head is down between my arms, I look bowed but not beaten, the tear in the rear of my jeans parting but the soft shadows still hiding their contents. The slap of the rough tabletop seeming to welcome my inevitable presence, the chain leading up into the darkness and the obvious stress of muscles under strain. It was the sort of photo that I would want to keep or even frame for my bedroom wall. The extreme sexuality highlighted by the anonymity made for a powerful portrait.

Murmuring almost half to herself "I don't know what's more of a turn on, the photo or the reality." Pushing the send key she laid the phone aside and moving deliberately stepped around behind me. She kicked gently at my boots so that they moved apart lowering my body until the table was at the perfect height to tilt my ass in the air. Moving between my legs I felt her hands and fingers exploring, teasing, tugging, squeezing, opening me up till I felt heavy. Dipping her hand into the can of lube she grasped her cock and slowly, so goddam slowly, entered. I felt her push into me, feeling like an eternity until her body was hard against mine. She froze there and I felt her belt slipping between us as it was freed from its loops. Then it was round my throat with her hand alternatively tightening, then relaxing it. She started to fuck me, deeply on every stroke, the belt restricting air and blood, muscles still under stress so that I could not move. Not fast but just steady and deep, she kept me just at the edge of consciousness, if the blackness threatened to cascade over me the belt would relax and I would suck in air that rasped in my throat like sandpaper. Then the rhythm would start again driving into me now, almost lifting me onto the table with the strength of each thrust.

Suddenly the stress on my arms released and the chains ran free, collapsing onto my face on the table and regardless of the belt still tight around my throat I pushed back hard onto the cock that still impaled me. This sudden release of muscle prompted an instantaneous shaking orgasm that tore through my body like a ground tremor.

It wasn't till I heard the familiar voice that I froze, remembering the chains could not be reached from the table and that if "J" was still pushed into me then she was not the one who had released the chains.

Unhearing in my agony/ecstasy I had failed to hear another enter the room until the voice. Her voice! The voice that could cut through any rapture, any pain and instantly have me at its control.

"The photo, I had to see this for myself. I'd finished what I was doing so I thought I'd come for a look. Hope you don't mind."

I shook my head but I should have known better, the belt tightened again to remind me that right in this moment the voice was not talking to me.

"No, you're always welcome. I was starting to wonder how I could loosen off those chains without losing the moment, when you walked in it was perfect. Would you like to join me?"

I almost giggled at the politeness of it all, here I was face down with my ass in the air, a cock buried deep in my cunt, belt around my throat and this pair sounded like they were working out who was going to lead the Mardi Gras parade. Warningly again the belt tightened and I stilled suddenly aware that now there was not one but two demanding butch tops who were both going to expect a full evening of satisfactory entertainment.

'M' would never have showed up only for a look, no doubt there had been an invitation attached to that photo message. They must have been bloody confident that this would be acceptable, and I wondered how much this was a predestined set up. 'M' knew that I would never refuse her so I expect that once I had accompanied "J" then my consent to the expansion of the experience was taken. Nevertheless 'M' squatted beside the table, lifted my chin, and looked directly into my face. The belt round my throat snaked backwards and I heard it drop to the floor. Its owner however stayed embedded deep within me although still.

"Shall we?"

Those ice blue eyes searched my face looking for any sign of refusal or hesitation.

"Oh hell yes, what the hell took you so long!" Like I told you under stress my cheeky streak comes out.

"You may regret that," came the mild reply.

"Oh I really doubt that." That obviously was a step to far. Rising back to her feet 'M' started to undo her belt. This was no ordinary belt, it was a split tail with small decorative ball bearings sewn onto the tails. When worn it doubled around her waist twice and looked nothing more than a rather strangely decorated belt. Loosened from its loops however it was another story. Reinforcing around the buckle provided the grip for a very nasty little split tailed whip and even as those ball bearings danced in the flood light I knew what their impact on flesh felt like. I gulped, me and my big fucking mouth. I had been taught before not to mouth off to 'M' and I knew she hated having to teach the same lesson twice.

"Well I think its time you cleaned "J" up. It may be a while before you earn the privilege of a good fucking." On hearing that I was suddenly empty as "J" withdrew.

I was hauled me to my feet and manhandled round the workbench and pushed roughly down so I was bent across it. I wouldn't have moved a muscle anyway but 'M' placed her hand across my shoulder blades as "J" fossicked in those tool boxes and came up with a set of leather cuffs which were quickly applied to my wrists and then clipped to the eyebolts. This time there was no quick release.

As "J" stood, momentarily I felt nothing, then I heard the sudden indrawn breath and felt 'J's finger tracing outline of 'M's hand, feeling her nail scratch over the scar tissue at the end of each of those five fingers.

"Don't worry she's not owned, if that's what your thinking. Medals of shared experiences shall we say?"

"J" exhaled. "That's ok then. But right now this is your punishment for her cheek towards you?"

"Yes, she has forgotten her previous lessons and needs a reminder. I don't want to hear her screaming though."

"I can take care of that."

With that "J" lifted my face up and again dug those fingers into the side of my jaw forcing my mouth open. This time it wasn't a packing cock that was inserted but something that was designed to give pleasure, so had significantly more girth and length. Seeing the difficulty she withdrew it and I breathed a quite sigh of relief.

The relief however was not to last as she grabbed a handful of lube and rubbed it onto the length of her cock making sure there was plenty of it. Now I'm not a big fan of the taste of lube so when she dug her fingers into that sensitive spot again I tried to resist tensing and holding my mouth firmly closed. She shook her head, "naughty naughty" and backhanded my cheek hard enough to shock and then dug those fingers in hard. My mouth popped open instantly and she promptly filled it with cock. I could breath but I could feel the cold lube sliding down my tongue and I had to cough and swallow to avoid choking. The instant I coughed she pushed further into that already tender chamber and planted her feet. With my hands secured and a cock threatening to cut my air supply at any moment there was nowhere for me to go. I lay quietly resigned to my punishment.

Hands were rough as they undid the few fasteners that held what remained of my jeans up. The remains were pushed down to my boots and I was laying bare ass up on that table.

"Ten should do the trick."

I relaxed slightly. I had taken ten strokes before of the little snake. It had taken me two weeks to be able to sit down again but I had managed to endure without screaming.

"On each side!"

Twenty! I had never seen her hand out such punishment, maybe 20 with one of the broader lashes but not with this snake. Usually just the threat was enough and it was rare that someone was forced to bend for more than three.