Ever since the early eighties, when she had first discovered the world of swinging, Suzie had prided herself on being a sexual adventuress. She d loved the thrill of arriving with her lover, Paul, at the exclusive swing clubs of New York and their exotic counterparts in Europe, the excitement of wandering through different rooms, watching the undulating landscape of men and women who, like herself and Paul, loved to abandon themselves to the unknown.
Sometimes she liked to stand in the doorway, frigging her own clit while she watched the tableau of a beautiful woman on her hands and knees, one engorged cock humping in and out of a pussy, another thick, unruly one sawing in and out of an ecstatic mouth. Sometimes she had headed straight for the sauna in search of another bisexual woman whose pussy she could plunder with her fingers and tongue.
And most especially, she had loved the mindless feast of heading for a shadowy niche, where she could join an orgy of bodies, some male, some female, opening her long thighs so that unknown hands, mouths and erections could pry open her cunt lips, plunge into her dark hole and pump her to orgasm after orgasm, while Paul stroked her breasts or rubbed his cock over her face and into her mouth, finally spraying globs of hot white come onto her lips and cheeks. At the end of nights like this, she and her lover would leave the club, flushed and exhausted, but so turned on that they could hardly wait to get out of the taxi to fuck again.
Her cunt would feel deliciously used for days after the wild club nights, and her mind would be filled with images of all the cocks she had sucked and screwed the thick ones that seemed to split her pussy as they plunged in, the long ones that showered semen onto her ass or face, the ecstasy of taking on stranger after stranger.
She and Paul spent hours in bed, discussing adventures they d had and planning the ones they would have. And she never doubted that there would be more in store. A natural exhibitionist, she d found an ideal match in a voyeur such as Paul. His cock hardened at the mere thought of watching her being rough fucked by other men. Games of the flesh seemed the natural balance for her high pressure career as an advertising copywriter and Paul s work as a political consultant.
And, as she d frequently been told, her face and body exuded sexual invitation, as if they had been designed for pleasure. Her long legs were strong from years of dance classes, and so pale that they seemed to glow in the half shadows of the bedroom or the swing club parlor. Her waist provided a small, fragile counterpoint to her richly curved hips. And her breasts were large and round with big pink nipples. Every week, she lay back on the bed and spread her legs so that Paul could trim the dark hair on her large lipped pussy. This ritual concluded with a session of lovemaking.
Everything about their sex together had seemed the perfect blend of comfort and risk, public displays and private enjoyments. Then, with the advent of AIDS, everything changed. Swing clubs began closing, and the ones that remained no longer held the same allure. She and Paul agreed that there was no point in taking crazy chances, but neither did the prospect of meeting with couples they knew on a regular basis appeal to them. Sex with her lover was as good as ever, and yet she longed for the kick of the unknown. This is how she found it . . .
Late one Saturday night, Paul returned home carrying a parcel for her. This gift, he said, was by way of special invitation to a club night beyond her wildest dreams. Actually, he knew it fit her fantasies to a tee. The parcel was wrapped in glossy red paper and gold ribbons. Inside it nestled a studded leather corset, leather garters, stockings and, to her surprise, a dog collar on a long chain lead. The gift and the invitation that went with it made her edgy with excitement. She was breathless as she tried on the outfit.
The leather corset was rigid and tapering, quite unlike the soft laces and silk she usually chose for her underwear. The metal rivets framing the laces were cold against her warm skin. And the bones along the front of the garment pressed her breasts up, emphasizing their pearly texture and roundness.
She turned around in front of the mirror, entranced by the contrast between the dark garter and stockings and her thighs and ass, which seemed as white and pure as frost. And the collar, Paul whispered as he held it up, smiling. He pushed her down onto her knees, pulled her head toward his groin and lifted her chin to fit the collar around her neck. Her shoulders and back felt excruciatingly exposed, and she grew flushed and nervous at the thought of the night ahead with Paul, who clearly had found some bizarre new club for this evening s adventures. But she couldn t ignore the heat spreading from her cunt into her legs. Her new clothes, especially the dog collar, were exciting her. And judging by the massive swelling in Paul s tight black jeans, a deliciously naughty image or two, featuring his newly submissive lover, was playing in his head. She reached out to unzip him.
Not yet, he ordered. Get your coat. The limo will be here in ten minutes. Stepping into the street, knowing that her raincoat and high heeled shoes hid the fact that she was half naked and headed for an unfamiliar destination, made her cling to Paul s arm. The car sped downtown through the neon streets to the meatpacking district and stopped outside an inconspicuous door ringed by bodyguards, where they were looked over and buzzed in.
Put yourself in my hands tonight, darling, said Paul. I know you re going to love this. He slipped the coat off her shoulder and left it with the coatcheck girl, then led her by the chain attached to the collar. The room in which she found herself was quite the opposite of the plush swing clubs that were her standard m tier here was a concrete floor, pounding music and a rudimentary bar. From the alcoves on either side of the bar, she could hear people calling out in excitement and fear. She would have been quite frightened herself, but she was mesmerized by the scene playing out around her. In the far corner of the room, a crowd had gathered around a young man who was chained to a wooden crucifix. His nipples and erect penis were pierced with a series of small gold rings. A leather harness crisscrossed his chest, extending down around his balls and up the crack of his ass. Behind him, a large brunette in a rubber dress and impossibly high heels wielded a brown leather paddle, bringing it down onto her subject s ass, legs and thighs with such force that Suzie could almost feel the shock in her own body.
In another corner, a beautiful black woman, dressed only in thigh high patent boots, was being held across a whipping bench by two men while a third man jiggled the chain linking two clamps on her distended nipples. Her face was a dazzling mixture of lust, discomfort and relief. Looking around, Suzie saw that several of the men and women chatting around the bar held chains in their hands chains attached to collars, like hers, around the necks of their slaves. Everyone turned to look at her as Paul led her into the center of the room. To her surprise, she was blushing.
Down, slave, said Paul. On your knees.
He d never spoken to her like this before, but the cruelty in his voice sent a shiver through her body. She fell obediently to her knees in front of him. From this vantage point, she could see his erection, and she longed to pull his fat, uncircumcised cock out of his trousers and suck on it so slowly that she d leave a trail of red lipstick up and down the shaft. But as she attempted to brush her head against it, he pulled her away with the chain of the collar. No cock for you, he announced. And don t look up until I tell you to. Looking downward, she noticed how the leather corset was pushing her breasts up closer to her eyes.
The gleaming G string imprisoned her pussy lips but left no doubt that her cunt was swollen and wanting. Between the beat of the pounding music, she could hear Paul conversing with a stranger, but she couldn t decipher exactly what he was saying. She studied the stranger s shoes in front of her black Western leather boots, with metal toe caps and a line of studs around each heel. She didn t dare lift her gaze.
Then Paul pulled her to her feet, and she found herself looking up into the appraising eyes of a large man with skin so dark it looked like polished wood. Very nice, he commented, reaching out and turning her from side to side, as if she were an objet d art he was considering acquiring. Then it occurred to her that this was what she now was, Paul s cherished pleasure pet being shown off and bargained for. She s all yours, said Paul, handing the chain of her collar over to the man. Now she was being led to a dais in the corner.
Simply having been handed over to this stranger and in the sight of other strangers solely for his and her lover s pleasure gave her a shocking thrill. She suddenly realized how Paul was literally creating for her a scene she had described to him many times when his cock was sawing into her.
Paul stood in front of her and slipped his hands into her panties, running his index finger up and down the slit of her cunt and then circling her aching hole. She closed her eyes and pushed her hips toward him, desperate to have his fingers thrusting in and out of her sex. Her head fell back and her rich brown hair cascaded onto her shoulders. The black leather of the corset pressed against her, simultaneously caressing and constraining her breasts. Her nipples were as hard and angry as burning coals from rubbing against the bones, and the metal rivets that held the corset s lacing, which had been so cool when she first put on the garment, now marked a warm avenue down her back. The collar around her neck now felt like a badge of pride. She was already so desperate to come that she would have worked herself off using her own hands, the nearest table corner or any object that might have served as a dildo. But instead of plunging his fingers into her cunt and finger fucking her with the aggression she needed, Paul toyed with her pussy as if it were as fragile as a child s toy, his fingers teasingly tracing the outline of her clitoris, rubbing the swollen labia and then waiting at the entrance of her cunt. There was nothing she could do. The stranger held her wrists firmly behind her back. The wetter her cunt became, the more tantalizingly gentle were Paul s fingers.
She s soaking, Paul announced, and she knew that it was pointless to pretend that only she and her lover knew just how much she was turned on.
Is she now? What a wicked girl, said the deep voiced stranger, and she felt his large body rub up against her back. The leather of his pants was smooth and sinister against her naked ass, and his breath was hot on her neck.
Suddenly it occurred to her that the three of them weren t alone anymore. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. A circle of onlookers had gathered to watch the tableau, an audience of stern masters, inquisitive slaves and Saturday night tourists, all mesmerized by the sight of a trembling, half naked body and her flagrantly obvious desires. One of the women was thoughtfully toying with a whip. Two of the men had pulled their cocks out of their pants and were masturbating Suzie watched their fists move up and down their heavy erections, imagining what it would be like to be fucked by these beautiful tools. Years of swinging experience had taught her the pleasure of being sandwiched by two men, with one cock in her pussy and another in her asshole. Now, she could only dream, like a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. For a moment, the stranger released his grip on her arms, but just as she realized that her hands were once again free, she heard the snap of metal against rubber and, almost instantly, he d seized her again. Something soft brushed against her skin and then the softness enclosed her as he bound a fur lined cuff around each wrist, swiftly locking her hands together, pulling them up above her head and latching the cuffs onto a bolted bar above her. The excitement of it all made her squeeze her thighs together.
What a wanton little slut, whispered the stranger. You know wicked girls have to be punished.
Blindfold her, commanded Paul, pulling a dark silk scarf out of his pocket and knotting it firmly around her head.
The knowledge that she was now both symbolically and literally imprisoned, completely on display but unable to see anyone herself, combined with the ache in her pussy and nipples, was completely dizzying. Her body felt so pliant that if she hadn t been straddled back and front by the two men and restrained by the cuffs around her wrists, she would have collapsed. All she could think of was surrendering to whatever was expected of her. Usually so smart and controlling, she was overwhelmed with a single craving to feel pleasure and provide pleasure. She opened her legs wide and ground her ass against the stranger s crotch. His cock bulged inside his leather pants.
Say thank you, ordered the stranger. She felt a hand caressing her ass, stroking the soft skin and then moving away to return with a stinging slap.
Thank you, she said.
Thank you, Master, commanded the stranger, bringing his hand back to her ass and slapping her again.
Thank you, Master, she cried out obediently.
The blackness of the blindfold, the ache of the spanking she was receiving and the presence of Paul s fingers pressing down on her clit, pinching it and then checking the wetness on her thighs, was making her head spin. Every nerve ending in her body was poised for orgasm. It occurred to her that she wasn t even sure anymore whether they were Paul s fingers playing with her pussy now.
A large pair of hands cupped her breasts, pulling them out of the bodice that had enclosed them all evening, feeling their weight and sensual curves. She was used to having her nipples lightly stroked and kissed. In fact, her lovers had frequently remarked on how pink, sensitive and tender they were. Not this time, though. The fingers kneaded each tip, pinching it until she thought her knees would buckle. The fingers on her cunt were moving more insistently now, resolutely rubbing her clit and then pushing up into the soft folds of her pussy.
Thank you, Master, she murmured.
Louder, so that everyone can hear.
Thank you, Master.
Sensitive nipples, she heard someone say. A male voice, but it didn t seem to belong to either Paul or the stranger who was alternately stroking and spanking her ass. Or was it him? Again, she was no longer sure who was who. And here she was, utterly helpless and exposed, available to anyone who wanted to participate in the game.
In all the times that she d idly paged through erotic magazines or perused sex shops, she d paid scant attention to the selection of whips and paddles, turning away from these items as if they were designed for people other than herself. Now the rounded leather of a whip began stroking first one nipple, then the other. Who was wielding the whip? Her attempts to squirm out of the way were pointless. She was completely encircled, her hands pinned, her ass under the constant assault of caressing and spanking hands, one, then two fingers deep inside her flooding cunt.
Whoever was in charge of the whip was clearly aware of her dilemma. The whip brushed gently against her cheek, her neck and then dangled over first one nipple, then the next, as soft as a whisper. Then there was an instant of anticipation, fear and wanting before it came whistling through the air and onto first one, then the second target, leaving her nipples stinging and yet more eager than ever for the perplexing alternation of soothing, loving caress and torment. Now, with her body caught in the confusing kaleidoscope of sensations, her mind blanked out.
The blindfold seemed to enhance her other senses. She was acutely aware of her pussy, as the hand inside her panties fingered her to the edge of orgasm and then withdrew, painfully conscious of the two hands slapping her ass and the whip coming down lightly on her nipples.
Although she could see nothing, she could imagine the picture she was presenting with her round titties pulled out of the corset, her nipples enlarged and brightened from the caress of unknown fingers and the whip, her mouth open, her black G string soaking with excitement and her curvy white ass undoubtedly reddening as a result of the punishment for which she had volunteered.
She could hear the breathing of the people around her and their murmurs of appreciation and encouragement, hear the slapping of hands on her ass and thighs, the swift sigh of the whip hitting her breasts. And she could heard her own cries, like those of an exotic creature of the night.
Her sense of smell was also infinitely more acute and intoxicating than it had ever been. Like an animal, she could smell the sexual heat of the men around her, the mingling of sweat, musk and aftershave, as well as the earthy scent of her own pussy, the perfume she d applied earlier that evening and the perfumes of other women in the room, some floral, some spicy. And, most of all, she was intensely aware of the newer, now maddeningly erotic smells of rubber and leather.
A new pair of hands moved in to take control of her cunt, tugging the sopping G string between the crack of her pussy lips, obscenely emphasizing the split of her cunt and the swollen large lips on either side. The pressure of fabric, like a rope, on her pussy was throwing her into a frenzy. Her entire body was shaking, and the throbbing in her clit was expanding out to her asshole, thighs, feet, breasts, neck and face.
Come for your master, slut. And remember your manners. As she registered the command, she felt something large, hard and round pressing against her pussy. Not a cock, but not a dildo either.
The object pushed up into her cunt, forcing her to open her legs a little wider as it moved deeper into her body, making her conscious of her cunt stretching millimeter by millimeter. In the haze of pleasure that was overtaking her, she remembered that Paul had been drinking a beer earlier, and she realized that the object that was fucking her was a beer bottle. The realization that she was about to orgasm in front of a crowd of strangers, with a beer bottle in her pussy, made everything spin. Her head thrown back, she began to scream as waves of the most shocking and profound orgasm of her life crashed over her again and again.
After what seemed like forever, her breathing returned to normal. The wristband was loosened and the blindfold was untied.
Beautiful, darling. Paul pulled her into his arms and stroked her flaming ass and kissed her hands. Then, as gently as if she were a bird, he guided her toward the coatcheck and back into the night, where he hailed a cab.
Back in their apartment, he led her to the bedroom mirror, took the lead of the dog collar in his hand and forced her onto her knees.
This time you can watch, he said, pulling his cock out of his trousers. It was monstrously distended every ridge and vein was swollen and the head was like a battering ram. In an instant he was behind her, pulling her aching asscheeks apart.
On her hands and knees in front of the mirror, she watched as he positioned his hard on at her anus and slowly pushed it up her rear entrance. Her stockings were torn and her hair was a wild frenzy. But in the leather corset, spike heels and dog collar, she looked like a fetish dream, a goddess and a slave in the same instant.