Parisian Dreams Pt. 02

Sharon thought back to her recent thunderous orgasm and, blushing just a bit, slowly nodded her head affirmatively. It had been earth-shaking. Then, slipping deeply into her character her meek acceptance changed to defiance as she shook her head from side to side, indicating a new attitude. Pursing her perfect lips she said "No, no, husband. I allowed you to tie my hands, but I will not accept any further restraints. We must make love as equals."

Jean, recognizing that Sharon had anticipated his true need and shifted their encounter in the direction he desired, spoke sternly. "Wife, you have promised to love, honor, and obey. You will obey me. Lie on this bed and prepare yourself." With that, he walked to the same chest of drawers which supported the empty champagne bucket and opened the top drawer. Reaching in, he withdrew several lengths of soft white cord. Transferring the different lengths to a single hand, he used the other to remove a white leather gag. All this was done in full view of Sharon who had done as she was told, stretching languorously on the still undisturbed bed covers.

She shifted to lie on her right side propping herself up on one elbow. As her body torqued the mass of her breasts shifted and gravity completed its defeat of the white corset. The strict white undergarment which reduced her waistline to a perfect hourglass and had supported her beautiful breasts was no match for gravity itself. Her ponderous breasts hung down and fell together creating a line of deep natural cleavage. "Husband, the half-supine beauty, inquired, what is it you intend to do with that rope and that, that gag?"

Without answering his faux-bride, Jean vaulted onto the bed and seized his beautiful captive by the wrists as the cords and gag splayed out across the bed. "You will obey me," he insisted. "You will always obey me." Reaching for one of the shorter lengths of cord, he demanded that his wife extend her long arms in front of her body so he could re-tie them. Sharon protested again, but not too strongly. A look of fear, seasoned with just enough desire to make it look genuine, passed over her face, which quivered to complete the illusion. Jean hoisted the gag, which resembled a soft satin sausage held fast between two steel rings. Dutifully, Sharon lowered her head in obeisance all the while murmuring "Husband, dear husband, please do not do this on our wedding night, please."

"Open your mouth wide, but say nothing," was his only reply.

Jean gently attached the gag with its leather strap, securely, but not severely, and Sharon's protests instantly became limited to gurgling incomprehensibility coupled with tiny shakes of the head. Only her eyes were free to tell the story now and she carefully crafted her gaze as she looked into her Master-husband's eyes. Sharon knew exactly what he wanted and so her countenance filled with a mixture of apprehension and confusion. Her eyes, green and radiant pleaded her case. She raised her arms as if to pray for mercy.

Moments later those arms were extended above her head while her "husband" secured them to the elaborately carved headboard. In short order her ankles and knees were similarly secured to the headboard and bedside so that she looked like a partially sheathed jackknife. Her sex was completely exposed and in perfect position for the guard, who knelt directly in front of her. Stroking his erect cock, the guard sidled up close and touched its tip to her pussy, slowly rubbing it up and down to coat it with her vaginal secretions, which were plentiful.

Then, without a word, he directed his cock forward, easily but inexorably penetrating her sex. For her part, Sharon's countenance signaled relief and pleasure. His cock felt perfect, filling her just enough, exerting gentle pressure on her vaginal walls. He drew back, stopping just short of freeing himself from her grasp. He advanced again, slowly and deliberately until he was better than half way inside and then he repeated his penetration, this time burying his cock to the hilt. He could go no farther. Lingering for a few seconds, he savored the union of his flesh and hers. To him, to any man, no other feeling can compete. He was experiencing the pinnacle of male pleasure.

For her part, Sharon's eyes told her side of the tale as they rolled back in unspoken ecstasy. That she was immersed in waves of pleasant warmth was obvious to her "husband." She shifted her hips, so much as her confinement would allow to optimize his ability to enter her fully. They reached synchrony quickly as he plunged deep and then withdrew over and over. Each partner was guided by sensation and sensation only, him searching for the right rhythm to both maximize duration and pleasure and her playing counterpoint to his efforts.

For fifteen long minutes they matched each other's pace. When he slowed to rest his leg and hip muscles, she did the same. He would linger, half inside and half out, concentrating on the sensation of her vaginal grasp. He resumed his piston-like action; once again she matched his rhythm perfectly. Then, almost imperceptibly, his pace quickened as he signaled his approaching ejaculation. Sharon could both feel his acceleration and see in his determined facial expression that a climax was near. She bathed herself in increasing waves of pleasure.

Sensing her desire to come simultaneously with him and understanding how close he was to reaching climax, Jean took his hands off his own hips and then reached forward to secure himself by grabbing her right breast, squeezing it and then searching for her nipple, which, in due time, he found and pinched with just the right amount of pressure. Sharon shuddered and shook in involuntary response as a new front opened up in their encounter. With his right hand he found her clitoris, which was standing almost erect just above his cock and as big as the tip of his little finger. He nudged it to one side and then back, massaging and stimulating her already sensitive pleasure center.

Metaphorically speaking, she was now surrounded. Her pussy was full of throbbing, pistoning cock. Her right nipple was being squeezed with just enough pressure to draw, but not rivet her attention. Now her sensitive clit was being teased and rubbed. She was expertly secured to the bed, her options limited to one- allow her mate to take her where he wanted to go. She moaned through her gag, sending a crystal clear signal that she thoroughly approved of her lover's attentions.

Jean's own sensations combined together to narrow his focus to the feeling at the tip of his cock. His climax was rushing towards him and he could no longer forestall the inevitable. He groaned out loud multiple times and sped up his penetrations until he was literally fucking as fast as he could. Sharon, determined to outlast him, held off on her own ultimate pleasure as long as she could. Holding back for another instant even was completely out of the question for either of them. They came together within seconds, as close to simultaneity as possible. She lifted her hips to maximum extension as he allowed his cock to push as deeply inside her as he could. Once there, Jean's warm gooey cum blasted out from the tip of his cock immediately encountering the back pressure of the rear wall of her vagina. In quick succession three, four and then ultimately a fifth contraction added to the total. It was a massive deposition of seed.

Jean collapsed but did not remove his still-erect penis. For her part, Sharon was bucking uncontrollably as if she were being subjected to electric shocks from a cattle prod. Her entire body convulsed, exhibiting as much violence as her restraints would allow. She screamed into her gag. Spittle oozed from its edges onto her chin. For the second time that evening her lover had drawn the ultimate approval from her. Eventually, the convulsions reduced to ripples, returning in staccato pulses only when, after a while, Jean slowly removed his cock. She looked up into his eyes searching for approval and found it, but only for a moment.

Soon Jean was on his feet, standing back to the bed and pulling up his tuxedo trousers. He found his shirt and put it back on. Then he sat on the bed and slowly put on his socks and shoes. Standing again he re-attached his cumber bun and then went to the mirror where he expertly re-tied his bow tie. He picked up his tuxedo jacket and slung it over his shoulder. Finally he walked over to the bed where Sharon lay trussed, immobile and oozing cum onto the bedspread beneath her perfect rear end.

He spoke. "Slave, when I first met you, I remember telling you that I hoped we would meet again in the future. Now we have and I believe that each of us has enjoyed that encounter. I'm off to re-join the party downstairs. If any man enters this room to use your body for his pleasure you will submit and do your best to please him. Each of us has full authority to punish slaves who give anything other than their best efforts. Otherwise, you will remain here exactly as you are until morning when attendants will come to prepare you for transit to the next auction. Cheer up," he said wryly. "You've gotten your wish. It's in Paris."

Sharon lay there listening to the man who just a moment ago, had filled her with his viscous semen as a husband might do to his bride on their wedding night. He had completely controlled her both physically and emotionally, all the time using her as nothing more than a vessel for the deposition of his thick cum and the satisfaction of his own desires. It had been corrupt and cruel in the extreme and now was starkly transparent for what it was, inhuman. A single tear formed in one eye and then others followed in quick succession as the sobbing beauty came to the realization that her life had devolved into degradation and servitude of the most awful kind. She heard the quiet click as the bedroom door closed.