Lady Noir

Alicia was just learning this lesson now, whether she had realised it yet or not. Her gasps had turned to indignant moans, clearly protesting at the continued stimulation of her raw pussy. She may well have experienced consecutive orgasms before, but I had a feeling she wasn't used to ones quite as exhausting as these. It was her lucky day, then: she was going where no man had gone before.

A few seconds later and her futile protests were drowned out by her own moans of pleasure as she entered the throes of another orgasm. Screams erupted shamelessly from her gaping mouth, wild and raw as she went into an animalistic frenzy. It was, in more ways than one, a resounding success for my efforts. More tangy fluids jetted into my mouth - this girl was quite a fountain! I swallowed every drop, and it filled me with a warm tingling sensation. It was clear that the innocent beauty moaning deliriously as my tongue penetrated her core had kept herself in remarkable condition - her cream was completely pure, unadulterated by unseemly vices such as narcotics or tobacco. I could always taste the taint of such substances; the body never lies.

As her spasms of pleasure faded away once more, I persisted in my torturous stimulation. My job wasn't done until she'd had her fill of pleasure and then some. After all, if I stopped when she'd had enough, she might start forgetting who's in charge here. Such mercies were given by spouses and partners, not seasoned professionals.

Her struggles now were no longer of defiance nor pleasure, but of desperation. I was slightly surprised - I thought a girl of her stamina would have lasted longer than just two climaxes. But as I was currently demonstrating for her, orgasms granted by a fellow member of the fairer sex are immeasurably more intense than any other.

Well, if this was to be her crowning climax, a slight repositioning was in order to make her more responsive to my efforts. I granted her a precious respite for now and jiggled my tongue out of her delicate hole. I wanted her bound in a Y-shaped suspension, so I had to move fast if I wanted her to stay nice and tender for me.

Staying out of her limited field of view, I unshackled her metal cuffs quickly, her arms and legs practically bouncing off her torso from the tension with which they'd been bound. The 8-shaped rings clattered to the stone floor loudly. She was now suspended with her frogtied limbs hanging limply from my rope - I doubted she'd be able to muster the strength to resist me at this point even if she wanted to, and she'd only be able to flop about like a fish anyway. But hopefully she wasn't still harbouring resentment for my services.

I lowered her to the ground gently and tucked my folded legs beneath her body as I flipped her over. My bare ass was now resting lightly on hers and my glossy thighs surrounded her waist to prevent both movement and her clamped nipples from pressing painfully into the unforgiving stone floor. Her head was still arched back with her hair hooked tightly into her rear hole, the silky rope running between our two posteriors and up the smooth furrow of her spine.

I grabbed her arms with enough force to discourage any resistance and untied the loops of rope holding wrists to shoulders. I then stretched her arms out straight to her sides, relieving any potentially cramped muscles before repositioning them over her back for a firm box tie. I stopped her elbows from slipping out sideways with my knees as I worked, keeping one hand on her forearms to ensure she couldn't slip them over my knees to her front and thus gain leverage. Soon her forearms were fused together with my constrictive rope, and her upper arms were held in a tight square frame to prevent her from wriggling out of the tie. The rope also incorporated her hair into the mix, resulting in a mass of entwining rope resting on her upper back. There were also ropes passing above and below her sizeable bust, and I intended to take advantage of those shortly. As I sat there finishing off the ties, she wriggled experimentally to test their effectiveness. Interesting... She seems to be consciously allowing me to restrain her. Perhaps this girl's sexuality will be easier to corrupt than I thought.

Her arms now dealt with, I spun around and turned my attention to her frogtied legs. If I untied these, there would be nothing stopping her from kicking back and twisting free - and with her thighs sporting such well-toned muscles, I had little doubt she could pull it off. But her legs would need to support most of her weight, so it was actually convenient that she'd kept in such good physical shape. I tied three loops around and through each folded leg, leaving ropes trailing from the inside of her thighs to tie to the ceiling shortly. I also retrieved a small spreader bar and tied it between her knees, ensuring her delicate flower would never be hidden from me.

Finally, I fed the loose ropes through appropriate rings on the ceiling and pulled the whimpering girl back into the air. She'd been very cooperative, so I decided to release her hair from the elaborate network of rope spanning her back, retying the rope from the ass hook into the box tie instead. She flexed her neck and murmured appreciatively.

"I always reward good behaviour," I murmured back, caressing her sides with my darkly glistening hands.

With her breasts now conveniently bobbing upside-down in front of me, I decided to give them a bit of extra rope support. I attached a new piece of folded rope to the strands above and below her magnificent breasts and pulled the loop tighter, bringing the ropes together and pushing her bust out attractively. I then wound each end of the rope around the base of each breast, moulding them into perfectly circular globes that stood proudly from her chest.

I then found some heavy spherical weights and began to clip them to the middle of the chain connecting her clamped nipples. She whimpered softly as she watched and felt what I was doing.

"Hush, girl. These will let you shake off those clamps that have been torturing you so long." I was supporting the weights in my hand as I said this, so I slowly lowered them to let the leaden spheres hang freely. My pet's plump orbs were stretched unnaturally downwards, her flushed countenance bracing against the pain with scrunched eyelids. When she reopened her eyes, the aggravating weights were gently swaying in the centre of her vision, serving as a constant reminder of the cruel nipple clamps. But she would appreciate the purpose of the weights soon, and then she might even thank me for the mercy. Perhaps.

"Oh, but you've probably never had the pleasure of using these special clamps before, have you? Allow me to explain the ingenious nipple clamp design which you are sporting so adorably," I said softly, my lips hovering over one of the cute little nipples in question. Her engorged areola would amplify the sensation of my warm breath washing over her nude body and drive my next words home all the more.

"These particular clamps are designed, quite simply, to stay put. Unlike traditional clamps that could be tugged off with ease, these marvellous critters translate all those little incidental tugs directly into their gripping strength. So you don't need to worry about them slipping off accidentally, my pet. They will eventually release those pink buds of yours with enough encouragement, of course, but not without providing a fitting challenge for my tireless plaything, hmm? Butterfly clamps, they're called. A lovely name for a wonderful invention, don't you think?"

Alicia had hung listening to my brief explanation in silence, but now she began wriggling frantically to be free of the cold merciless teeth biting her stiff nipples. At least she got the message - this was one release she would have to work hard for. But I couldn't help but think how her struggles resembled a timid girl's more than a violated wife's. That was definitely a good thing: it meant she was willingly playing along with me now, even if she didn't realise it yet.

I adjusted her height one final time so that her flushed crotch hung just below eye level. My adorable plaything now hung before me with her nude form displayed in a perfect Y-shape, the symmetry broken only by her frantic yet ineffective struggles. Her powerful legs were rendered useless by the numerous loops of rope that used her own weight to fuse her ankles to her lovely thighs. Her well-defined thigh muscles bulged out around the ropes as they strained to support the rest of her suspended body. Her arms were folded snugly behind her back and held securely in place with ample amounts of rope, and a single pesky strand ran up her back and disappeared into the crack where a tapered metal fishhook dug deeper into her little hole with every twitch. Her well-endowed bosom protruded majestically from its silky rope prison with the large weighted clover clamps biting her proud nipples greedily. But of all of these enticing enhancements, the most entrancing feature was the girl's visage. Her piercing green eyes followed mine uneasily, widened with the fearful knowledge that her current predicament could become much worse at any moment if I but desired it to be so.

The girl is learning, I thought with great satisfaction. I'll make a pleading slut out of that pretty face yet. And whenever I succeed in breaking a girl's very sexuality in the space of a few hours, I generally see fit to reward myself appropriately. Few girls escape the privilege of being buried between my legs.

But luckily for this girl, I could also make her predicament much better. I gazed hungrily at the invitingly moist lips of her tender pussy, suspended at just the perfect height for a good work over. I smiled and got back to work.

***

My mind was hazy as if in a dream. The sensations I was feeling were surreal, sending endless waves of pleasure to my clouded mind. I heard my moans echo endlessly around my head; incoherent moans of sensual bliss, an occasional fragment discernible amongst the cacophony: Aaahhh, yesssss, ooohhh yes...

I despised myself for responding like such a slut, but at the same time I couldn't stop myself from submitting to the overwhelming pleasure. It was just... too good... to resist. Why even consider such a thing? Why deny myself this pleasure? I could think of no reason.

With my neck clenched against the blood rushing into my head, my thick collar had grown uncomfortably tight, almost choking off my oxygen supply completely. I sucked in more air, feeling it whistle down my throat just before I needed to exhale again. My whole body felt like it was burning, and even the lightest touch sent tremors up my spine. Drool dribbled up into my hair, cooling my flushed cheeks and forehead as it passed. I had my eyes closed - my eyelids too were wet with the continual stream of saliva from my gaping mouth.

I knew I was hanging upside-down - even with my eyes firmly closed, I could sense gravity constantly shifting as I swung idly from side to side. And I knew my arms were somehow bound behind my back such that even my most fervent struggles found no give in the bonds. The natural crossed-arms position was as comfortable as I could have hoped for, but still I was frustratingly denied any movement in my flexible limbs. I knew my resultant posture was also thrusting my poor breasts out before me, their humiliating prominence even further exaggerated by the cords squeezing their bases tightly. I probably looked more like a flat-chested girl with rosy red apples glued to her chest than a respectable young woman with a modest bust. I could also feel my erect nipples bent painfully towards my head, and there was no mistaking the uncomfortable fullness of an intruder in my anal cavity. I even deduced that my folded legs, held wide apart at the knees, were responsible for supporting my whole weight - though the spreader bar meant that most of the strain was actually on my inner thigh muscles, which in turn put a lot of tension on my twitching groin muscles.

But what I couldn't figure out was what was actually happening between my legs. I'd tried to look down at my nether region when I was furled up in that humiliating suitcase position, but every attempt had only pulled uncomfortably on my hair and the foreign object nestled in my rear. I'd been forced to scrutinise the corner of the ceiling while my pussy had been relentlessly exploited to yield pleasure beyond anything I'd ever dreamed of.

I wanted to know exactly what heavenly stimulation was responsible for such bliss. Mercifully, I could finally move my head about freely - but I couldn't find the strength to lift my chest upwards and get a look at the device. Whatever it was, its luxuriously soft yet surprisingly firm motions were just perfect for soothing my tense groin muscles. It seemed to press against all of my most sensitive nerve endings at the same time, delivering pleasure I didn't think humanly possible until now. The relentless onslaught of sexual stimulation was almost painful. Almost.

But where was Lady Noir in all of this? It wasn't like her to leave me helpless under the spell of such wonderful treatment. I was sure she must be off to the side somewhere, picking out her next torture implement with which to laugh and tease me while she had her way with my abused body. Then suddenly I felt her glossy hands smothering my navel, slick with some warm fluid that at this point could have been from any number of holes across my body - every one of them seemed to be leaking with some form of liquid or lubricant. I was sopping wet with so many different bodily fluids that I didn't even know which were mine anymore. Or were they all mine?

My moans intensified as I grew apprehensive of the cruel dominatrix. I didn't want her to ruin this for me! I was finally getting something good out of this horrid affair, and I just knew she would drag me away from this moment kicking and screaming - she'd probably even enjoy it.

I began wriggling frantically side to side, but for all the fight in me I felt as helpless as a cocooned caterpillar - except I didn't even have the security of a hardened prison to protect me from the cruel outside world. And my gentle swaying only succeeded in making the lead weights tug painfully on my chained nipples. Yet I stubbornly persisted, working up momentum as I became increasingly hot-headed from the inverted suspension. Lady's smooth ebony palms continued to glide across my body, gently caressing my bare navel and hips. Her hands sent tremors through my helpless form as they ran across my ticklish sides. I half-expected her to start pinching my crushed areolae or ramming another intruder into my exposed ass at any moment, but to my surprise she seemed content to continue massaging my nude form in a most soothing fashion.

"Now now, you don't want to hurt yourself, my dear," she purred, her arms enveloping me as she added softly, "Only I may do that."

I suddenly had this uncanny feeling that she was actually contributing to the momentum of my rhythmic swinging. Yes, even when I ceased my own efforts, I kept swinging in a larger and larger arc over the frighteningly close stone floor. My nipples surely couldn't handle much more of this - I was terrified that they would be ripped off any second now! I frantically tried countering my lilting motion in a desperate attempt to ease the tugs on my clamped nipples, but my efforts were meaningless under Lady's forceful manipulation.

With two painful tearing sensations and some loud thuds, the clamps themselves were torn off my bouncing orbs and they fell to the floor in a small heap. It took me a moment to realise my nipples were still attached to my body - such was the absolute pain that continued to assault them even after the culprits were torn off.

Glossy fingers slithered in for the kill, groping my bulbous globes as an over-abundance of blood rushed into the liberated tissue. I groaned at the humiliating intimacy, but soon appreciated the experienced domme's benevolence as her massage eased the harrowing process of returning the circulation in my innocent nipples. My breasts still protruded like melons and undoubtedly made me look the picture of a complete slut, but with my nipples freed I could almost enjoy the sexy feeling of ropes supporting my proud assets.

My Lady continued to rub my sensitive areolae, but now her touch produced a very different sensation. It seemed absurd that just tweaking my sore nipples softly could induce such strong sexual excitement, yet that's exactly what was happening. As the blissful stimulation up in my nether regions resumed and my simmering arousal abruptly intensified, I decided I could stand the mystery no longer. I clenched my abdominal muscles and heaved my upper body up until it was horizontal, carefully keeping my neck straight so my hair wouldn't be yanked back painfully. I froze for an instant as I saw the 'device' pressed into my sensitive pussy, then my muscles gave up and I collapsed backwards once more.

It was none other than Lady Noir herself, shamelessly exploiting my vulnerability with her mouth. I was mortified - another woman was ravishing my privates with her mouth, and I'd been enjoying it! Her deep blue eyes had briefly locked with mine, her smug satisfaction clearly evident in both her piercing gaze and the utter confidence with which she repeatedly rolled her moist lips over my slit and flexed her tongue within my soft pussy. The woman somehow exerted an aura of power and authority even as she serviced my shamefully voracious libido. Her technique was even as stylish as it was functional - she made the perverted deed look as enticing as licking an ice-cream.

How could I not have realised what she was doing to my own crotch? I'd had cunnilingus performed on me before, but Gordon's technique - if indeed there was a technique - left much to be desired. What this impudent dominatrix was doing... It didn't even feel like a mouth. She worked her powerful tongue like a plunger, using her gleaming lips to create a firm seal around my tender orifice that allowed her to shift the very air inside the cavity, exerting pressure against all sides of the receptive walls of my pussy while simultaneously applying the greatest force against my sensitive G-spot. The only external evidence of this vaginal pumping was the rhythmic oscillation of her flawless cheeks as her tongue shifted inside me.

Of course, I could feel every tingling detail of this now that I knew exactly how she was stimulating me. The revelation humiliated me to the core - I was getting horny off a complete stranger licking my genitals. Even worse, I was about to climax and squirt into that woman's exploitive mouth. I squirmed defiantly, trying to break the perverse seal over my sanctuous love mound, but she simply slipped those lustrous ebony arms around my tensed sides and held me securely under the influence of her violative mouth.

I squirmed even more vigorously, but her slim arms had the advantage over my free-hanging form, rendering my struggles moot. Her slick latex garb seemed to be pressing in on me from all sides now. Cold metal buckles pressed against my back and arms, pinning my body between her crimson bodice and the slender latex-clad arms folded around my abdomen. I couldn't so much as wriggle in her enveloping hold.

A bittersweet aroma wafted past my nose, and I twisted my head around to see the narrow strip of Lady's bare thigh. I could just make out a slight gleam in the dark recesses of the stiff bodice, betraying her own arousal. It's her scent I'm breathing, I realised, at the same time thinking how teasingly enticing the aroma was. Or was I just delirious from lack of sustenance?

Having exhausted all avenues of resistance - and having thoroughly exhausted myself, as well - I finally began to face the reality of my situation. There was no denying that I was enjoying this perversity to some degree. But what degree was that? How far was I willing to take that acceptance? What was wrong with making the best out of this humiliating predicament that I was hopelessly powerless to escape, anyway?