The following contains material of a sexually explicit nature. This
material is meant for ADULTS ONLY. If you are not of legal age. EXIT
NOW.
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As the author of the following story, I claim all rights in accordance with
international copyright laws. These rights are claimed by me under the
pseudonym of: " Just Another Bloke."
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PLAYING WITH YVETTE:
by Just Another Bloke
CHAPTER 1.
I'd seen her around the neighbourhood and she'd come into the shop a
few times. There was nothing particularly striking about her: Late 20's,
about 5'5'', slim, short dark hair, smooth olive skin, big brown eyes. She
seemed to be quite a shapely and buxom little thing, although it was
hard to assess her body with the conservative clothes she wore. Like a
lot of women Yvette looked very appealing at times, and other times she
was decidedly ordinary.
But it wasn't her appearance that attracted me to her, it was her
attitude. Yvette seemed friendly enough on the odd occasion she came
into the shop, but it was a transparently insincere friendliness. She had
an air of arrogance about her, typified by her smug expressions and
pretentious mannerisms. I wanted to be the one to wipe that smug look
off her face.
I didn't really know that much about her; I didn't know if she had a
boyfriend, or a girlfriend for that matter. All I did know was that she was
an English teacher at St Bridges; a very exclusive, very elite Private
School in Waverley. But I'd seen enough of Yvette to know that I would
like to spend some time alone with her; I'd like to play with her.
I've had my photographic shop for about three years, and it has never
ceased to amaze me how boring people are, and how boring their photos
are. Ugly babies, fat brides, boring people doing boring things.
Most of the nude or fuck photos are just strippers at bucks parties or
ugly women doing things with other ugly women. I don't know what it is
with ugly women, but they're the one's who really love having nude or
crude pictures taken of themselves, and the uglier they are, the more
explicit their photos are.
The rest of the nude and fuck photos are usually just tits and cunts, no
head shots. Or the pictures are so out of focus that you can't see a face
to go with the cunt. There had been five occasions in the three years I'd
had the shop that I had come across photos I was able to use. Yvette
made it Six.
She came in one morning with two rolls of film. As she passed me the
second roll she said more to herself than to me:" I don't know what's on
this one....." She said something about finding it in a draw but I wasn't
really listening. My mind was preoccupied speculating as to what she
looked like underneath her drab attire.
" I'll pick them up in the morning." She said in that disinterested and
indifferent voice of hers. A hint of the subtle fragrance she wore lingered
in the air around me as I watched her strut across to the door. She even
had an arrogance about her in the way she walked.
The first roll of film was just the normal boring shit. Sydney Airport; a
Qantas 747, the inside of a plane, the tarmac of a runway, clouds, and
then more clouds. " How fucking exciting. That was worth taking 36
pictures of." I said to myself as I watched more pictures of clouds fall
into the tray.
The first few photos on the roll she'd found in the draw were just as
boring: Yvette on the ferry on her way to Liberty Island; Yvette looking up
at the Statue of Liberty; Yvette climbing the stairs inside the Statue of
Liberty; Yvette looking out from the Statue of Liberty. Then no more
Yvette, just pictures of the view looking across to Manhattan.
I was sitting there watching the pictures falling into the tray, thinking how
fucking stupid people are when I saw it. Yvette lying naked on a bed,
shoving a big red dildo up her arse.
I don't care what people say; in life, there is no substitute for luck.
There were eleven photos of Yvette and her little red plastic friend
including two of her doing something that even I found disgusting. Her
pretty little face was perfectly clear and well lit in five of them. The other
six were just close-ups of her cunt. I assume it was her cunt, but maybe
her friend with the camera had a cunt too ?
The timing couldn't have been better, Melanie was visiting me that night.
It was the 27th time Melanie had visited me; the 27th time I'd played
with her, and it would be the last time I played with her. I've always held
the view that in situations like this you need to give the woman a sense
of hope. I could easily have told Melanie that her arse was mine for as
long as I wanted, for whatever I wanted. But you can never be sure how
the woman is going to react; whether she's mentally and emotionally
strong enough to endure an experience of that kind not knowing when it
would end, or if it would end.
It's always possible that someone will find the woman's breathless body
sprawled out on her bed with a stomach full of sleeping pills or
amphetamines. You've got to give them some sense of hope, that's the
approach I had adopted with Melanie: 28 photos, 28 visits, and it would
all be over. I would adopt the same approach with Yvette.
" I'll deal with you tomorrow bitch." I said, looking at a picture of Yvette
fucking herself with her big red dildo. For now though, my thoughts were
on Melanie, how we'd met, how I'd got her to submit to me, and how I
would play with her for the last time that night.
Melanie was a 27 year old mother of two, she'd only been separated
from her husband for a matter of months when I first met her. She had a
dark Mediterranean look about her: Shoulder length black hair, a pretty
face in a very homely sort of way, big tits with very dark areola and
incredibly long nipples. Her general body shape wasn't bad for a woman
who had given birth to two children. Her cunt was not her most attractive
feature though; she had big ugly cunt lips which I found most
unappealing.
She was a very unassuming and demure woman in both her appearance
and her demeanour. A rather plain woman, not unattractive, but not the
kind of woman who turned heads. I certainly wouldn't have noticed her
had I not seen her photos.
It was humiliating enough for women who had to submit to me because
of their own stupidity, but it must have been even worse for Melanie; to
have to submit to me because she had been betrayed by the person she
trusted the most; betrayed by her husband. He may as well have given
Melanie to me with a note around her neck saying: " Here, she's yours,
do what you want with her."
But, all that aside, if Melanie hadn't behaved like such a perverted little
slut in the first place, he wouldn't have had the photos , he wouldn't have
been able to betray her.
All women have a touch of slut about them, some more than others. They
all have their own fetishes and fantasies. Their own rape, or incest,
or gang-bang fantasies. Sometimes it seems the more outwardly
innocent and virtuous a woman appears, the more bizarre and perverted
her fantasies are. Such was the case with Melanie. The fantasy that
obsessed her had been the same for as long as she could remember,
and it always happened the same way. She'd be naked except for a red
silk robe, she would get down on her hands in the dirt and a Rottweiller
would mount her from behind.
Mel, as her husband called her, had been married to Brendan, a high
school Biology teacher for 3 years, and had bore him one child when she
confided in him about her fantasy. There were times after that when Mel
would describe what happened in her fantasy while they fucked.
Apparently the thought of his wife getting mounted and fucked stupid by
a dog appealed to Brendan.
About six months after the birth of their second child, who doubtless was
conceived while Melanie was crying out " Fuck your bitch on heat,"
Brendan and Mel moved into a larger house, and by a happy
coincidence, or an act of God, or more likely an act of Satan, their new
neighbours had a 3 year old Rottweiller they called Khan, and their new
house had an old tool shed with a dirt floor.
Melanie and Brendan remembered smiling mischievously at each other
when they first saw Khan. He was a 110kg growling, drooling ball of
muscle. His head was Mel's crotch height when he stood in front of her,
something she apparently found rather distracting. Mel and Brendan did
the 'fuck the dog' talk more often when they were having sex and they
joked with each other about Mel consummating her relationship with
Khan.
Brendan claimed he caught Melanie looking out the back window at
Khan and masturbating on several occasions, Mel denied it, but
admitted there were times she masturbated in bed or in the shower
thinking about Khan. Each claims the other was the first to suggest that
Mel actually live out her fantasy with Khan, but both of them wanted it to
happen, both of them helped arrange for it to happen and they both
enjoyed it, so who suggested it is irrelevant.
The opportunity arose shortly after they moved in. Kahn's owners were
going away for the weekend; Melanie and Brendan grabbed the
opportunity presented to them. They offered to look after Khan, their
neighbours accepted gladly, not knowing just how well Melanie was
going to look after their dog. The kids were offloaded onto Melanie's
sister for the weekend.
Apparently the idea was that they'd go to the shed, Mel would get down
on her hands and knees in the dirt with her arse up in the air while
Brendan held Khan on a leash, his panting, growling head just a few feet
behind her. Mel would start off just masturbating, pretending that Khan
was fucking her, it would be up to Mel to decide whether to go through
with it or not. It was an obviously stupid fucking idea by two obviously
stupid fucking people; neither even considered that Khan might actually
have his own thoughts on what should happen when Mel's wet cunt was
in his face.
Brendan and Melanie enjoyed a romantic dinner together with wine and
candles and soft music. Melanie was naked beneath the red silk robe
she'd bought the previous day. The robe was exactly like the one she
wore in her fantasy.
After dinner they sat on the lounge together and watched a beastiality
video. So much for the romance. Melanie was apparently almost frothing
at the mouth after watching the video. Brendan claimed she actually left
a large wet patch where she was sitting, Melanie didn't dispute this.
Brendan went down to the tool shed first, turned on the fluorescent light,
put the leash on Khan, and waited for Mel. She went down to the tool
shed a few minutes later, doubtless leaving a trail of cunt juice on the
grass behind her where she'd walked.
Their versions of what happened next were identical, word for word:
" Your bitch is here Khan." Brendan said, as Mel appeared at the door.
" And your bitch is on heat." Mel added, as she slowly undid her robe,
slid it off her shoulders, wiped herself between the legs with it, and threw
it on the floor in front of Khan.
Apparently the big Rottweiller liked Melanie's scent. He tore the robe to
shreds, just like the dog in her fantasy did. It was then that Melanie
noticed Khan's cock for the first time that night, she had made him hard,
and he was huge, just as the dog in her fantasy was.
" You're bitch is ready for you Khan." Mel said, as she got down on the
floor on her hands and knees in the dirt and started playing with herself.
" You're bitch is on heat, she's wet and waiting for you to fuck her with
your big dog-cock. I'm your bitch Khan, I'm your bitch on heat and I want
your big dog-cock inside me."
Melanie wasn't sure what happened after that. Brendan claimed that he
asked her if she wanted to do it, if she really wanted the big Rottweiller
to fuck her. According to him his wife just looked back over her shoulder
at him and said: "Yes...."
He led Khan over toward Melanie, the huge animal easily pulled loose
from Brendan's grip and mounted his wife, the dogs claws making deep
red scratch marks on her back as he thrust his cock at her cunt wildly
trying to enter her. Brendan claimed that Khan's cock was the size of a
man's wrist, but that it slid easily inside his wife in one savage thrust.
According to Brendan, after Kahn's cock was inside Melanie, he just
stood back and watched and listened. The noises the woman and the
dog made were unlike anything he'd ever heard, and that at times, it was
hard to distinguish which noises the dog was making and which noises
the woman was making.
Melanie denied having any idea that Brendan had taken photos of her
getting humped stupid by the dog. A full roll of photos in fact, 36 photos;
36 clicks of the camera; 36 moments of intense light from the flash; and
Melanie didn't notice?
Looking at the photos, at the expressions on Melanie's face, it's certainly
possible she didn't notice. The tool shed could have fallen down around
her as she crawled around in the dirt with the Rottweiler on top of her
and she probably wouldn't have noticed.
Brendan claimed it lasted for about half an hour, and that Mel climaxed
three times while Khan fucked her, and again when Khan shot his load
inside her. Melanie has no idea how long it lasted, but when forced to,
she admitted to cumming at least 6 times, the most intense of her
orgasms being when her and Khan climaxed together. How sweet.
The last photo was of Melanie lying in the dirt, seemingly only semi
conscious; covered in Khan's fur and cum, and her own cunt juice and
perspiration. It was an experience that Melanie would never forget, and
always regret.
Shortly after that night their relationship deteriorated. They both deny
that what happened that night with Khan had anything to do with their
problems; a young blonde student of Brendan's who had acquired a
taste for his dick was supposedly the problem. But what Melanie did
with Khan always seemed to come up when they fought.
" It's sick, she's almost young enough to be your daughter." Mel would
scream at her husband." And what about you ! You get off fucking dogs!"
Brendan would spit back at his wife. Isn't marriage wonderful?
It ended in a bitter, spiteful separation, which would surprise no one
with a modicum of intelligence. Putting aside the fact that Brendan was
married to a woman who got off fucking dogs; and that Brendan got off
sticking his dick in the mouth of a 15 year old girl, the whole concept of
monogamy and marriage is flawed.
They took each other to court, fought over custody of the children and
visitation rights, and property, and of course, money. As usual, Brendan
being the male got shafted by the courts; Melanie got virtually everything.
She stooped as low as she needed to ensure she won, and that Brendan
ended up with nothing; including bringing up Brendan's little friend at
school with the pigtails.
Brendan was left a very bitter very angry man, with no job, no money,
no access to his children, and a three month stint in Goulbourne jail for
having had sex with a minor. And it was all Melanie's fault.
Brendan came to see me shortly after he got out of prison. One of the
few possessions he had left was an undeveloped roll of film. He looked
like the looser he is when he came to see me. He said he had some
pictures he needed developed, but he needed someone he could trust,
someone who would be discrete. Out of all the photo processing places
in Sydney, he picked my little shop in Bondi. In life, there is no substitute
for luck.
Brendan wanted someone who would be discrete, but he was anything
but discrete himself. He'd told me his whole version of events before
he'd even passed me the roll of film. It sounded like he had recounted
his memories of the events of that night many times before.
I was very attentive and understanding: " She's a fucking bitch mate."
I said sympathetically. " I hope the fucking slut gets what she deserves.
mate." Brendan and I were mates now. And I would ensure that the bitch
got what she deserved.
I told Brendan I'd develop the film after hours, when no one was around.
The stupid prick believed me. Even more amazingly he believed me when
I told him the pictures didn't come out. I passed him a packet with 36
photos of blackness, with a few splashes of light. " The film was too old
mate." I said despondently. Brendan actually thanked me for my trouble
and understanding. Blatant stupidity is not the sole providence of
women.
He thanked me again when I told him I'd only charge him half-price.
Brendan wasn't a bad photographer. Most of the photos of the big
Rottweiller fucking Melanie were clear and well framed. Khan and his
bitch had red-eye in a few of them, but it sort of added to the effect in
some ways.
Melanie and Brendan disagree as to how many orgasms she had while
Khan was on top of her and inside her. But there were 28 photos that
had a clear shot of Melanie's face in them, time stamped from 11.18pm
to 11.45pm, and Melanie looked like she was cumming in every one of
them. Judging by the photos, Melanie only had the one orgasm, but it
lasted for 27 minutes.
I'm glad I took Melanie into my office when I first showed her the photos.
The stupid bitch completely lost it. She was hysterical. It took me about
half an hour to calm her down, about the same length of time she fucked
the dog for.
Even when I'd calmed her down she was babbling on almost
incoherently.
If Brendan got hold of the photos she'd lose custody of her children, they
were her life....." It was all very touching. Tears were rolling down her face
as she sat there in her stupid floral mummy dress. I even impressed
myself with how compassionate and understanding I was:
" I'm sure you're a wonderful mother Melanie." I said to her softly. " A
wonderful mother with a thing for big dogs with big dicks. Does your
daughter take after her mother?" I added to myself.
She kept raving on about how Brendan mustn't get hold of those photos.
She looked up at me with big sad eyes and said: " They're my children.
I'm their mother. I'd do anything for them. I always have." I put my hand
on her shoulder, looked into her eyes and said softly: " It's a pity that
didn't include only having sex with other humans Mel." And that's how I
got Melanie. Her husband did everything but gift-wrap her for me.
I'd enjoyed playing with Melanie, and I knew it had been quite an
experience for her too. So I wanted to make her last visit special.
Something she'd always remember.
At first I thought of taking her to the pound and making her pick a dog to
fuck for my entertainment. I thought that would be a rather prophetic
ending. But that was her thing, she'd enjoy it too much.
Melanie arrived at the shop at exactly 8.00pm as she had been
instructed to, and was dressed exactly as she had been instructed to
dress: A crudely short black leather skirt and a skimpy black singlet-top.
No bra, no panties, no shoes. The only other thing she wore was black
nail-polish on her fingernails and toenails. She was dressed like the
cheap slut she had become for me. But she'd only done it for her
children's sake, of course. God forbid they should end up with their
father who had a thing for very young women. The children were much
better off with their mother who had a thing for dogs.
" Is that how you were dressed on the bus slut?" I asked Melanie as I
opened the door. " Yes Master." She answered quickly.
" You didn't wear a coat and dump it before you got here?"
" No Master." She had a look of genuine surprise on her face. " I would
never disobey you." She'd come a long way in her 27 visits so far. I knew
she was telling the truth. It was the last time she would have to submit to
me. She'd gone through too much to fuck it up now by disobeying me.
Melanie had submitted to all my demands, but she had endured the
experience. She had never truly enjoyed the things I did to her or the
things I made her do. There were times she had climaxed, but it was a
purely physical reaction to what was being done to her, not the summit of
pleasure she sought. Her orgasms had been little more than bodily
functions. She had submitted to me, but she had never surrendered
herself to me; there is a difference.
I took her into the Entertainment room. I don't care for the word:
Dungeon. The room is not a dungeon, it is a facility. A place where I play
with stupid women like Melanie and Linda and the others; and sluts like
Kim and Rachael and their kind; and it is a place where I would soon be
playing with Yvette.
The room was in darkness, except for a pool of bright white light.
Melanie knew this place well, knew what was expected of her. She
disappeared into the darkness and emerged again in the pool of light
where she knelt down, looked over towards where I was standing in the
shadows and said: " What can I do to please you Master?"
" What can I do to please you Master?" Brendan repeated her words as
he appeared in the pool of light in front of her. Melanie had a look of
terror on her face and in her eyes that I hadn't seen since her third or
fourth visit. She'd grown used to being humiliated and tortured and toyed
with, and accustomed to my little surprises. She'd learnt to deal with
what I did to her. But hearing the voice of the man she hated and
despised so much. Seeing him standing there in front of her was not
something she could deal with.
" Master." She cried out looking around the darkened room, hoping I was
still there, but not knowing if I was. " Please don't do this to
me....please....." I didn't respond to her pathetic whining, I just sat in the
darkness and enjoyed it. Enjoyed the expressions on her face, the sound
of her voice. Enjoyed her begging me not to let him touch her.
" I'm your Master tonight my little dog-fucking slut of a wife." Brendan
said loudly, the bitterness of all that had happened filled his voice. And
technically he was correct. Not about the dog-fucking slut of a wife
thing, he was spot-on about that, but they were only separated, not
divorced yet, technically she was still his wife. His dog-fucking slut of a
wife, as he put it.
I watched Melanie's face, filled with humiliation, her mind racing. Just as
it was that day in my office. She had to make a decision. Submit herself
to the man she hated so much or risk losing the children she loved so
much.
She'd been through so much, tonight would be the end of it. The decision
wasn't hard for Melanie to make. She looked up at Brendan submissively
and said: " I'm just the dog-fucking-slut you married Master. I'm not fit to
lick your boots. But there must be something I can do to please you
Master. I'll do whatever you want, I'll do anything. There must be
something a dog-fucking-slut like me can do to please you or amuse you
Master."
Brendan looked down at her in amazement. He couldn't believe what he
was seeing, what he was hearing. He put his foot closer to her and
Melanie quickly lowered her head and began licking his dirty old second
hand op-shop shoes. He watched as her tongue collected all the flicks of
mud and muck until both his shoes glistened all over with her saliva.
Then he reached down and grabbed her by the hair and held her like
that, their eyes locked together.
" How many other dogs have you fucked Melanie?" His voice dripped
with hate and disgust for the woman he once loved, the woman who bore
his children.
" Just the one Master." She answered softly. Refusing him the pleasure
of being humiliated by what she was admitting. " Jack. A Doberman I
bought after we separated Master." He pushed her away in anger and
disgust, but their eyes stayed locked together as she knelt at his feet.
" Why a Doberman Melanie? I thought you preferred Rottweilers?"
His voice was filled with sarcasm, but he obviously enjoyed hearing her
talk about this subject.
" I do Master. But Rottweilers are too aggressive. Dobermans are easier
to train and control. Jack fucks me up the arse and licks my dirty slut-
cunt for me too." Melanie had done some research about woman's best
friend.
Brendan made her tell him all about Jack. How long it was after he'd left
that she got him: About a month. How often she fucked the dog: At least
twice a week. Where she fucked him: Usually on her bed. When she
fucked him: Usually of a night when the kids were asleep. Was his cock
as big as Khan's: No, it was bigger. Did she ever suck the dog off: Yes.
Did she swallow it: Yes. Did she like the taste of dog-cum: Yes, she loved
it. When was the last time she fucked the dog: About 11.00 o'clock last
night. When was she going to fuck him next: As soon as she got home
that night.
Brendan stood in silence looking down at Melanie for a long time after
that. Melanie just stayed on her knees looking up at him subserviently.
She'd learnt how to endure humiliation, perhaps even to enjoy it, just a
little.
For the next two and a half hours Brendan whipped her and fucked her
and abused her with a passion that only hate can inspire. Melanie did
everything he told her to without hesitating. He wanted her to cum while
she licked his arse hole; with the use of a large vibrator pushed hard
against her clit she was able to do what he wanted.
Brendan came once up her arse, and then again later in her mouth. She
swallowed every drop of his cum and licked his cock clean. When
Brendan was finished with her, he threw her into a corner of the room,
hog-tied her the way I had shown him, and took immense delight in
urinating all over her. It pleased me that Melanie opened her mouth
whenever he aimed his piss at her face.
As I watched him piss on the woman he used to affectionately call Mel, I
pictured their wedding day; the two of them standing at the alter
together; the minister asking them their vows: " To love, honour and
respect, as long as ye' both shall live." What a crock of shit.
Melanie was still tied up in the corner,covered in her husbands cum and
urine long after Brendan had left. I walked over to her and she looked up
at me: " Is there anything I can do to please you Master?" She asked
softly. " Yeah. Have a fucking shower."
After she'd cleaned up the mess, had a shower and cleaned herself up
she knocked softly on the door to my office and waited for permission to
enter. I hadn't left anything out for out for her to wear, so she was naked
when she came into my office. Like most women, Melanie didn't really
look all that good totally naked, and like most women, she knew it.
She stood in front of my desk and said: " Is there anything else you want
me for Master? "
" No. Do you want your receipt now Melanie?" There was an expression
on her face that is difficult to label: Relief is probably the closest. It was
almost over. " Yes please Master."
Melanie followed me into the Entertainment room, stood on the platform,
bent over the metal frame and grabbed hold of the handles in front of
her. I raised it to where I wanted it and began tattooing a red line, about
an inch long and an eighth of an inch thick on the left cheek of her arse;
it was the 28th such line I had tattooed on Melanie's arse.
I get the opportunity to play with women like Melanie and Leanne and
Yvette because they're stupid enough to give me rolls of film to develop
with photos of them doing obscene and/or perverted things on them. If
they want their photos, they have to earn them, and they earn them by
visiting me, and submitting to me. In Melanie's case, there were 28
photo's, which meant 28 visits and 28 lines tattooed on her arse. 28 was
more than most, but nowhere near as many as Linda. I still had over 30
photos that she had yet to earn, but I was bored with Linda.
The tattooing is a symbolic act in one way. It's a permanent mark I've left
on the woman's body, an enduring reminder of her time with me. It would
be an interesting point of conversation for any present or future partners
the woman had. It also has a practical function, it's a way for the woman
to keep count of how many times she has visited me, her receipt. But
more importantly, I like doing it.
When I was finished I stood back and admired the 28 red lines on
Melanie's arse. " Thank you Master." She said softly looking at the marks
on her arse in the mirrors around her. I was going to miss Mel. Perhaps
she was going to miss me too, then again, perhaps not.
Melanie looked very different when she walked into my office dressed in
the little Floral mummy dress she'd worn the first time she came to see
me. She looked like millions of other mummies around the country on
their way to pick up the kids from school.
The dress and everything she'd worn the first time she came to see me
had been in my office since that first time we met. She'd left that day
wearing a skimpy little bikini that was two sizes too small for her. After
her third visit, she left wearing only a T-shirt that had: " I do it with dogs"
written on the back.
Melanie the mummy walked up to where I was sitting on the couch in my
office and said: " Is there anything else I can do for you Master?" I
looked down at my crotch. Melanie immediately knelt down and began
undoing my belt.
" You don't have to do that anymore Mel." I said smiling at her. "It's
over." She had a confused expression on her face, as I walked over to my
desk and picked up a large envelope containing all the copies and
negatives of her with Khan. She wasn't sure if I was still playing with her.
" It's over Mel, you don't have to come back." I handed her the envelope.
" But you can still suck me off if you want to, you're very good at it now.
You could make a good living doing that."
" Can I leave now please?" Was all she said.
" Yes, you can go. I know Jack the Doberman is waiting for you."
I was finished with Melanie, the next day I'd start playing with Yvette.
PLAYING WITH YVETTE:
by Just Another Bloke
CHAPTER 2:
Yvette looked good and smelt good when she came in the next day to
collect her photos. She was dressed in her characteristically conservative
style: Knee length grey skirt and a white long-sleeved blouse with a lace
bodice. Her tits looked quite large and shapely, hidden beneath her
blouse. But the blouse was made of a thick cotton material; Yvette was
not the sort of woman who wore anything which afforded a glimpse of
her bra cups or straps. She was feminine, but not really sexy. Not
dressed like that anyway. She had that 'Frigid, and proud of it.' look
about her that many women have. But I knew from the photos that Yvette
was anything but a frigid woman.
" I need to speak to you for a moment Yvette." I said in a serious voice.
She looked at me curiously. I just smiled warmly and gestured towards
the door to the back of the shop. She was somewhat reluctant to go out
the back with me. She looked at me suspiciously and said: " I'm sure
whatever it is you have to say can be said out here."
I really didn't care for the tone of her voice or the expression on her face.
But I smiled at her again and said: " Okay Yvette, I'm sure you'd rather
discuss this in my office, but we'll do it out here."
Yvette saw herself as a woman very much in control, " Look, what's this
all about." She wasn't frightened of me yet, or even concerned with what
I had to say, just annoyed.
" Well Yvette." I said casually." We don't know each other very well but I
do know what you want to do. You want to lift up your skirt, pull down
your panties and beg me to spank your bare arse."
I kept waiting for her to interrupt me but she didn't. Her jaw dropped and
her eyes bulged but she didn't say anything. Even when I'd finished my
little speech it was several seconds before she convinced herself that I'd
actually said what I did. When her brain finally kicked in she just laughed
nervously and said: " Is this some sort of joke?" Great come-back Yvette.
Then she turned toward the door, mumbled: "Creep..." And started
laughing and muttering away to herself again. She was just about at the
door and still laughing and mumbling away when I said:" Have you still
got the red dildo Yvette?"
It was like the dumb bitch had walked into a brick wall. She just froze on
the spot. I couldn't see her face but I knew what she was thinking. " The
Photos? What happened to the photos?" Her shoulders slumped as she
remembered her little stint in front of the camera and finally figured out
what had happened to the photos.
" That's quite a large lump of plastic you can accommodate." I said as
I spread them over the counter. " It looks like you're cumming in this one,
and as for these two....." She wasn't laughing anymore as she rushed
over and grabbed at the photos. She was quite flustered.
She became even more flustered when she heard the door to the shop
open. She had a look of absolute horror in her eyes. She quickly shoved
the photos into her purse and glared at me. I grabbed another set of the
photos from under the work bench behind me. " Don't fucking touch
them bitch." I said quietly as I put them face-down on the counter. " Now
don't you wish we'd done this in my office like I suggested. You need to
learn to do as you're told Yvette."
An elderly woman with that stupid Blue hair came into the shop and
made her way slowly up to the counter. Yvette was looking more and
more flustered. I was going to offer her a glass of water but the old
woman butted in. She had a roll of film she wanted developed. I don't
believe in God, but I prayed that her photos weren't similar to Yvette's.
Yvette's eyes darted from me to the old woman, to the photos on the
counter and then back to me again. She looked like she was going to wet
herself: "Now there's a thought." I said to myself.
Eventually the old woman who smelt like moth-balls made her way to the
door and out of the shop. I threw her roll of film into a tray; Rachael
could take care of those when she came in at 12.00. Rachael's a skinny
slut with long dark hair who works for me. She's next to useless
developing film, but she's very good at sucking cock.
" Look you sick bastard..." Yvette growled at me.
" Shut up Yvette." I said, turning her pictures over and spreading them
across the counter again. I thought she had wet herself this time. " We'll
discuss this in my office."
Yvette grabbed the photos off the counter and stuffed them into her
purse with the others. I'm sure she was wondering and worried about
how many copies there were. She had every reason to be worried.
She stormed down the corridor after me, my office is to the right, the
Entertainment room is to the left. Yvette wasn't ready to see the room
on the left, yet.
Women seem to be impressed by a guy with an impressive office, so I'd
spent a of lot money making my office very impressive. It's quite large,
about 30'x20' with thick plush grey carpet, high tech modern furniture
and lighting. Each wall features very erotic non-nude photos of women
I've taken over the years. And the 'impressive office' thing seems to
work, particularly with pretty young women keen to do well in their job
interview. Yvette was obviously not impressed though. Especially when
she saw the 24" X 24" framed photo of her with her big red dildo up her
big went cunt hanging on the wall behind my desk.
" You can't do this. I don't know what sort of sicko you are but you can't
do this." She was really getting herself worked up. She wasn't the same
cool aloof Yvette who had strutted into the shop a few minutes earlier.
She had her little tantrum and then just stood there trying to look
disgusted at me, but her feigned disgust couldn't mask her fear. I knew
she was waiting for me to say something, so I just sat in the chair behind
my desk and watched as tears began to swell in her eyes.
" You can't do this...."
" You've already said that Yvette. "
" I want any copies you made and the negatives do you understand? I
want that picture taken down now. I don't know what the hell you think
you're up to but if you don't give them to me I'll......."
" This'll be good." I thought to myself as I waited to see what the: " I'll "
was, but poor Yvette couldn't seem to think of anything for a while. Then
suddenly she said: " I'll call the police." Her tone was far more nervous
than threatening.
" And tell them what?"
" I'll tell them what you're doing, that you're trying to blackmail me!"
" I'm sure you'll have the full attention of the guys down at the station
when you show them your photos Yvette. They'll make copies for their
files of course, and get all your personal details; and I'm sure they'll feel
your case requires them to consult with a lot of officers down there. But
apart from that Yvette, what are they going to do?"
There was a long silence as Yvette tried desperately to think of
something to intimidate me with. Eventually she looked at me with a
vacant expression on her face. " What do you want?" I hadn't won yet,
her eyes were still filled with anger and defiance but it wouldn't take long
now.
" There are eleven photos in all. I'm giving you all the copies and the
negatives of these six as a gesture of good will on my part." I passed her
an envelope with the five close-ups of her cunt. Without a clear shot of
her face in them they were of no use to me. Yvette didn't seem to like her
photos.
" If you want the others you'll have to earn them. You already know
what you have to do to earn the first one." Her face twitched nervously
at the thought of it. I could see she was still trying to comprehend what
was happening, trying to think of a way out of it. So I showed her some
12 X 10s of the other five photos, just to help clarify our relative
positions on the matter. Seeing the last two again upset her the most.
Her eyes betrayed the sense of guilt and shame that consumed her. She
obviously didn't know that there were pictures of her doing that. " Whose
the 'sicko' Yvette?" I asked softly.
She shot me a glare of pure hatred. I just stared back until her false
bravado slowly ebbed away. She lowered her eyes to the floor in defeat
and I said:" If you don't do what I tell you to, then you'll find these photos
turning up in all sorts of places. Friends, family, neighbours; the notice
board at the school where you work, you know the sort of thing I mean.
And I'll send them off to some of the more popular nude pic sites on the
Internet, and those magazines that have "Amateur" sections would just
love what you can do with that big red thing. And as for what you're doing
in these two...."
" What is it you expect me to do?" Her voice was soft, but venomous.
" Whatever I fucking tell you to Yvette." Not a particularly specific answer
I know, but I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to do with her yet.
I gave Yvette a few seconds to think about what I'd said before I
continued. I just about had her. I knew she was still desperately trying to
think of a way out of it, so I decided to give her time to think.
" There's a cafe across the road, go and get yourself a cup of coffee and
have a think about it. If you're not back in an hour, I'll know you've
decided to be a dumb bitch about this."
I've got an ultra-modern looking hour glass on my desk that I bought on a
recent trip to Bangkok. The things those Tai women will do for a few
dollars. I turned it over and said: " Do you watch 'Days of our Lives'
Yvette?" I was just trying to lighten things up a bit. But Yvette just stood
there staring at the floor, a few tears beginning to run down her pretty
little cheeks.
I spread 12 X10s of each of the five photos across my desk, eased
myself out of my chair and walked around the desk and stood behind
her. I felt her cringe as I put my hand on her shoulder.
" You'll be my slut Yvette." I said softly. "You'll be whatever I want you to
be and do whatever I want you to do. You'll be the woman in those
photos. Look at the photos Yvette. Look how wet your cunt is, how stiff
your nipples are. Look at the expressions on your face. That's the woman
you will be when you're with me, and you'll do whatever I tell you to."
"Now go Yvette. You've got exactly one hour." She had turned decidedly
pale and it seemed like her whole body was trembling. " Leave your
panties on the desk Yvette." That seemed to surprise her, she looked at
me with an incredibly dumb look on her face. " This isn't a complicated
concept Yvette. Take your fucking panties off and leave them on my
desk! Sluts like you don't wear panties." She flinched when I called her a
slut, Yvette didn't like being called a slut.
What I was instructing her to do was not a significant act in itself, but it
was a gesture, a symbolic act of submission. One I gave her no time to
think about, her reaction would be spontaneous, instinctive. I was
curious to see how Yvette would respond.
She hesitated for an instant, then bit nervously on her bottom lip as she
reached up under her skirt and slid her panties down her legs. Her hands
were shaking as she put them on my desk.
I'd expected her panties to be big cotton things with Teddy-Bears on
them, but they weren't. She'd worn bright red G-String panties that day,
which in itself was an interesting insight into the woman called Yvette.
" Go. And for your sake, I hope you're back in an hour." She made sure
our eyes never met as she scurried from my office and out onto the
street. She had always come across as just another stuck-up-bitch, but
I'd credited her with being reasonably intelligent for a woman, I was
surprised she hadn't tried to buy me off.
Yvette had an hour to ponder her options. An hour to prepare herself for
the inevitable, to think about what I was going to do to her. Yvette's
submission would be much more enjoyable knowing it was a considered
decision. I didn't want her to rush into it, to still be trying to think of a way
out while I was playing with her.
I'd enjoyed talking with Yvette, but I had a sudden urge to fill a womans
mouth with cum. But not Yvette's mouth, not yet anyway. I was fucking a
woman called Kim at the time. Early thirties, slim, reasonably attractive,
long black hair, married, and into everything. But Kim was a slut. She
was too easy. There is no sense of having accomplished anything fucking
women like Kim, or doing things to them. Yvette was much more my
type, although I doubt she'd ever considered me her type, but Kim would
do for now.
I called her at the Building Society a few blocks up the street where she
worked. There's no challenge in fucking women like Kim, but it's
convenient having sluts like her around. It was mid-morning, but Kim
was in my office with-in 10 minutes of my call. I don't know how she got
away from work, but she always did. Sluts like her always seem to find a
way. I'm sure Kim is very familiar with the taste of her bosses cum.
She was standing outside the shop, tapping on the window, trying to see
inside. She looked nice in her uniform: Respectable length navy-blue
skirt, white blouse, blue vest, and black stockings and heels.
" What took you so long?." I said as I opened the door and then locked it
again behind her. " I'm sorry, I came as soon as I could." She said
anxiously, following along behind me as I headed for my office. I think
she sensed I was getting bored with her.
" I've got a present for you." I said, gesturing at Yvette's panties on my
desk, a pretty little scrunched up ball of silk and lace. Kim licked her lips
nervously, her eyes had that look in them. She bent down and tenderly
picked up Yvette's panties.
"Whose are they?" Her voice was low and breathless as she lifted the
panties to her face and breathed in Yvette's scent.
"Hers." I said, gesturing at the picture of Yvette on the wall. Kim's face
burned with passion. " I know her." Kim said, her voice trembling. "
That's Yvette, she banks with us. She's a stuck-up fucking bitch." She
closed her eyes and ran Yvette's panties across her lips. " What did you
do to her? The crotch is soaked."
" Call it nervous excitement." I said smiling. " You're mouth has a use
Kim, and it isn't for talking." I sat in my chair behind my desk and
watched Kim quickly peel off her clothes and kneel between my legs
wearing just her stockings and shoes, Yvette's panties scrunched tightly
in her hand.
She undid my zipper, gently took out my cock and wrapped her lips
around it. She asked me if she could play with herself while she sucked
me off. I said no. I didn't want her distracted from what she was doing.
Kim gives great head, there's no substitute for experience I guess, and
my cum was soon filling her mouth and running down the back of her
throat. Like all sluts, Kim loves the taste of cum. Her eyes were on fire as
she swallowed every drop of what I'd deposited in her mouth.
" Can I play with myself now?" She asked, her voice filled with
desperation as she licked the last few drops of my cum off her lips.
" Yeah, but hurry up, I've got things to do." Kim threw herself onto the
floor, licked her fingers, spread her legs and started fingering her wet
cunt with one hand, and rubbing her face with Yvette's panties. One thing
about sluts like Kim, they know what they want, and they do whatever it
takes to get what they want.
" She was so wet." Kim panted. " The slut's panties are soaked." Kim
came with Yvette's panties in her mouth, three fingers up her cunt and
one finger up her arse. She thrashed around on the floor screaming out
Yvette's name. She came like the slut that she is.
I stood up and headed for the bathroom as Kim's orgasm subsided.
" Don't waste that." Kim said standing in the doorway to the bathroom,
her face still filled with lust. She knelt beside me, held my soft cock to
her mouth, then tilted her head back just as my warm piss began filling
her mouth. She didn't spill a drop, she never did. I laughed to myself at
the thought of Kim's dickhead husband kissing her hello when she got
home from work that night.
When I was finished, she cleaned my cock with her tongue and looked up
at me and asked if there was anything else she could do for me. She was
still playing with herself, she was still horny; she was always horny. " No,
not now, but later. I want you back here at 1.00."
I stepped around her and walked over to the basin to freshen up. Kim
knew not to say anymore. She knew I was finished with her for now, and
she knew when I wanted her again. She was gone when I came back out
into my office, so too were Yvette's panties.
PLAYING WITH YVETTE:
by Just Another Bloke
CHAPTER 3.
A stunning young bottle-blonde was collecting her photos when Yvette
slinked back into the shop an hour later. Her eyes darted around the
room nervously. She didn't know where to look, what to say or what to
do. It was obvious what decision she had come to. Her face was burning
with embarrassment and humiliation. Emotions I would enjoy making her
much more familiar with.
The young blonde was like so many women you see on the streets. She
had the short skirt and the tight top and the Bolle' sunglasses. I've got
shiny tiles on the floor on the customers side of the shop and I enjoyed
the view up her skirt as she walked out.
" It's a pity I haven't got pictures of her instead of you." I said to Yvette
while I looked at the blonde slut. Yvette's face burned a slightly darker
shade of shame.
" Go and wait for me in my office." Yvette couldn't bring herself to look at
me, or to say anything to me. She turned and looked at the dimly lit
corridor that led to my office, she hesitated for an instant, I could see the
fear in her eyes; and then, as if resigned to her fate, she slowly moved
away and disappeared into the darkness.
I looked back out the window at the blonde slut. She was standing in
front of the shop looking at her pictures again. She just couldn't wait for
another look at the 36 fuzzy, red-eyed, over-exposed pictures of her
boring little party with her boring little friends.
I put the " Closed " sign in the window and felt a growing sense of
excitement, among other things, as I walked into my office. Yvette was
standing in the middle of the room clutching her purse, her head spun
toward me. She looked so frightened, so vulnerable, I almost felt sorry
for the stupid bitch. I smiled at her as I sat behind my desk.
" If I do what you say, you'll give me all the photos, all the negatives?"
" Yes."
Yvette bit her bottom lip nervously as she considered my detailed
response.
" Five times ? I have to do what you want Five times and I get all..."
" Yes Yvette." I interrupted. We'd been through all this.
" How do I know I can trust you?"
" You don't."
Poor Yvette was so confused and embarrassed she looked almost
distraught. " You're going to do more than just spank me........?"
" Yes Yvette. Maybe we'll go on picnics and read poetry to each other." I
was tired of her stupid questions. " What do you want me to do to you
Yvette ?" This was one of the moments I'd enjoy the most. The initial
submission. Yvette took a deep breath, hesitated for a moment, and
staring at the floor said:
" I want you to spank me." Her voice was so soft I could barely hear her.
" You mean you want me to spank you're bare arse." I said forcefully,
much more forcefully than I had spoken to her so far. The way I spoke
startled her a bit. " Yes." She said louder this time.
" Ask nicely Yvette." She looked at me with whatever defiance she had
left and said:" I want you to spank me. Please spank my bare arse." Her
words were asking me to do it, but her face still showed how much she
hated the thought of it, how much she hated me. I just sat there looking
at her. She had that flustered look again.
" Please spank my bare arse."
" No." Yvette had that really dumb look on her face again. I'd given her
the script, now I wasn't following it, and Yvette didn't know how to
ad-lib in this situation. " I don't like your tone of voice, I don't like the look
on your face, and I don't like your attitude. I think I'll get more pleasure
out of seeing these pictures of you all over the place."
" I'm sorry." she whimpered. " I'll do better. Please...." I let her stew
about it for a while and then said: " Alright Yvette. I'll give you another
chance.
You know what to do, lift up your skirt, show me your cunt, and then
crawl over here begging me to spank your bare arse."
Her hands were shaking as she put her purse on the desk and started to
slowly lift her knee-length grey skirt. She had great legs, I could almost
see her cunt when she suddenly pulled her skirt back down again.
" No I can't. I can't do it. Please, I'll pay you for the photos just tell me
how much you want and I'll...."
" I don't want your money Yvette, you know what I want so stop fucking
me around." There it was, the: " I'll pay you for the photos just tell me
how much you want." bit. I knew that was her last shot. Once she'd
offered to pay me off I knew she had no more ideas left on how to get out
of it. I'd won, but I'd won too easily. Yvette was too easy. How quickly the
mask of respectability had been peeled back to reveal the slut that she
was.
What other people thought of her meant more to her than what she
thought of herself. She'd surrender her dignity to protect her 'reputation'.
" You dumb slut." I thought to myself as I watched her lift up her skirt
again, all the way this time, exposing her sex.
" You're like a fucking door-mat down there Yvette. I could wipe my feet
on that." Yvette did not respond well to my remark. Her hands quickly
covered her crotch. I could see the shame and humiliation on her face
and in her eyes, so I let her drown in it for a while and then, in a loud
voice I said: " Move your fucking hands Yvette, I want to look at your
cunt." And sure enough, she moved her hands away offering me a clear
view of her hairy mound.
"You've got a nice cunt in those photos Yvette. A nicely trimmed cunt. Do
something about all that hair down there before you visit me again. Now
get your slut arse around here."
Yvette's face was as red as her arse soon would be. There was no
defiance in her eyes anymore, just shame and humiliation. And she had
nothing to say about my comments regarding her cunt either.
She didn't say anything at all, she just walked slowly, nervously towards
me until she was standing beside me behind the desk. She hadn't
crawled over like she was suppose to, but I let her off this time, it was
our first date.
" Please spank my bare arse."
She smelt good and her body felt warm against mine as she lay across
my lap. I felt her grow tense as I caressed the cheeks of her arse. She's
got a nice arse. Nice shape to it; soft, smooth, no ugly birthmarks. I just
ran my hands over her skin and enjoyed the view and the feel of her for a
while.
Yvette was as stiff as my cock. Her muscles were tense, her head
hanging down toward the floor. I got the distinct impression Yvette wasn't
enjoying herself, and this was the easy part. I raised my hand and
smacked her hard on the left cheek of her arse and she let out a
delicious little yelp.
I watched as the red outline of my hand and fingers that had formed on
her skin quickly faded, then I hit her again. She swore loudly this time,
and then cried out as I gave both cheeks quick hard smacks.
I stopped spanking her and just enjoyed the pleasure of having her laying
across my lap as I caressed her red arse again. " Please stop." She
whimpered pathetically. She was crying softly, and talking more to
herself than me, but it would be the last time she asked me to stop.
She screamed out as I grabbed her hair and threw her off my lap onto
the floor. " Get out." I said coldly. Her face was flushed and her eyes red
from crying. She looked so pathetic, I loved it. " I'm sorry." She sobbed.
" Fuck you're easy." I thought to myself as I started throwing copies of
her dildo-photos around the room. It was a symbolic gesture on my part,
pretty deep really, but Yvette understood. If she left now her photos
would be scattered all over the place. Everywhere Yvette went she'd be
confronted with the photos of her shoving her big-red-dildo up her
big-hairy-cunt, her cunt lips stretched wide apart as she fucked herself
stupid with the lump of plastic.
The pathetic look on her face quickly became one of desperation;
desperation to do whatever it took to keep anyone from seeing those
photos. Like most women, her self-respect meant less to her than the
misplaced respect of others.
" I'm sorry......" She sobbed as she crawled over and draped herself
across my lap. " Please, spank my bare arse. Please....."
Poor Yvette would do whatever it took to keep her secret hidden. She'd
allow herself to be used, degraded, humiliated; whatever it took to
maintain her veneer of respectability in the eyes of others.
" You're a dumb slut Yvette." I thought to myself as I looked down at her
lying submissively across my lap, begging me to spank her arse, and
almost meaning it.
Who gives a fuck if people saw photos of her masturbating. She could
always deny it was her. It was just someone who looked a bit like her.
Easy. But no. Yvette, like most women, would rather take the slut option.
Pathetic really, and so fucking predictable. Give women half an excuse to
behave like cheap sluts and they'll do it every time.
I was more than a little disappointed that Yvette had taken the slut
option so quickly, but perhaps I was being too harsh. Perhaps she had
other reasons for not wanting those photos in the public domain? But it
was a moot point anyway. She had taken the slut option. She had
decided to submit herself to me, and that was all that really mattered.
As humiliated and degraded as she felt now, she would have felt even
worse if she knew I was bluffing about the photos. If she'd had the
courage to say 'no' to my demands, there would have been nothing to
gain for me by spreading the photos of her around. The Police may well
have acted in her best interests, it wouldn't have been worth the risk.
Yes, Yvette would most certainly be pretty upset to think she went
through all this for nothing. She'd probably never forgive herself. I'd
make a point of telling her I was bluffing all along when I was finished
with her.
She'd stopped crying for now and was just lying across my lap with her
arse in the air, waiting for me to spank her. " Don't do anything to
displease me again Yvette. Do you understand me?"
" Yes." She said meekly. " I understand."
I told her to listen to the sound of my hand slapping against her skin. I
felt her body stiffen as she waited for the blow to land. I held it back,
making her wait just a bit longer and then brought my hand down harder
than I had so far. Her head jolted up and she let out a low grunting noise.
" Did you hear the sound of my hand on your arse Yvette ?" I slapped
her hard again. " Do you like the sound of my hand smacking you on
your bare arse Yvette? Do you like the way it feels. ?"
She didn't answer, so I reached over and grabbed the metal ruler off my
desk and smacked her hard and fast moving from cheek to cheek. The
ruler hurt much more than my hand and she moved her arms behind her
trying to protect her tender little arse. I slapped her hard over her
knuckles and she pulled her hands away.
She screamed loudly and her body bucked wildly with each blow of the
cold metal ruler on her hot red arse." Do you want me to spank you with
my hand or with the ruler Yvette?"
" With your hand, do it with your hand...." I didn't like the tone of her
voice and I told her so and gave her four more smacks with the ruler.
" With your hand please. Spank me with your hand please." .
I made her hold the ruler as a reminder of how things can always be
worse and smacked her hard and fast until her arse was glowing a
rich dark red colour. She was sobbing like a child when I told her to pass
me the ruler, but the sobs turned to screams again as I gave her a few
slaps on the inside of her thighs. Then I just fondled her bare red arse for
a while.
" Go home, have a shower and get your red arse back here. You will wear
a long white dress, a nice lacy white garter, white stockings, and high
heeled white shoes. But No panties and No bra. Have you got that Yvette,
or do you need me to write it down for you ? "
" I know what you want !" She said curtly. I grabbed the ruler and hit her
across the cheeks of her red arse three or four times. She swore each
time the ruler struck her." Don't be a smart-arse Yvette, just be bare-
arsed. Do you understand?"
" Yes...I understand.....I'm sorry.........." Her breathless words quickly
gave way to more screaming. When I stopped hitting her the screams
became soft whimpering sounds.
" Do you understand what I require of you Yvette?"
" Yes." She said meekly.
I pushed her off my lap. I liked the way she looked on her knees on the
floor beside me, rubbing her tender red arse, sobbing like a little girl. Her
eyes were as red as her arse. " Can I go now ?" She asked softly.
"Yes, you can go." She dragged herself to her feet and staggered over to
where she'd left her purse. She kept her back turned to me as she
straightened her dress. Her face was flushed, her hair a mess, her body
smeared with perspiration. She looked like a woman who had just been
fucked stupid. " Can I go now ?" She asked again, her back still turned
to me.
" Yes but hurry back. I'm not a very patient man Yvette."
She looked up at the picture of her on the wall. " Will you take that down
please." I looked at the picture of her. " It looks like you're cumming in
that one Yvette. Were you having an orgasm when that photo was
taken?" I think she noticed that I hadn't answered her question. I
think she knew not to ask again too.
" Yes." She said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. Her eyes
had been drawn to mine. " Yes, I was having an orgasm when that was
taken."
" What sort of noises do you make when you cum Yvette?" I asked,
staring into her eyes. She was about to answer me when I said: " Don't
worry, I'll hear it for myself later." I smiled at her, but she didn't smile
back.
" From now on, you will call me Sir, do you understand?" She couldn't
stop herself from looking at me, it was a reflex response. A hint of
defiance appeared on her face again. " Do you understand Yvette?"
" Yes. Yes Sir." She replied softly.
" And what are you Yvette?" The hint of defiance on her face quickly
disappeared. She knew what she had to say, and she hated having to
say it.
" I'm a slut."
" Yes Yvette, you're a slut, that much is obvious. But whose slut are
you?" There was no hesitation this time, no defiance.
" I'm your slut Sir."
I smiled at her. " Come and get your receipt slut." She had that dumb
look on her face again, but the look on her face quickly changed when
she saw the Entertainment room for the first time.
She was surprisingly quiet and obedient as I instructed her to stand on
the platform so I could tattoo the mark on her arse. She bent over when I
told her to, lifter her skirt when I told her to, and never said a word the
whole time I was tattooing her arse.
I'd explained about the tattoo's, but she seemed distracted. I'm not sure
if it was the whipping posts, or the racks or the wheel or the other pieces
of equipment and devices. I could tell she hated being marked in this
way, hated me leaving my mark on her in this way, but she hated the
look of the room she was in, and what was in the room even more. I liked
Yvette when she was like this; I liked it when she shut up and did as she
was told.
Yvette's introduction to submission was complete. I told her to get her
slut arse off the platform. She asked again if she could leave now; but
she didn't ask properly.
" That's not how a slut asks for permission to do something Yvette!" I
said angrily.
" Can the slut go now please Sir?" I smiled at her, nodded my approval
and watched her flee the scene of her humiliation; the stinging of her
red arse a reminder of what I'd done to her, and an ominous warning of
what I was going to do to her.
I'd taken it easy on her this first time. But the intensity of what we did
together would increase exponentially with each visit. I would have
explained this to her, but I doubted the dumb slut knew what
'exponentially' meant.
I still didn't know whether Yvette had a partner and if so how she would
explain the marks on her body and the marks yet to be made on her
body, or how she would explain what she was up to; but that was
Yvette's problem. One of Yvette's problems.
I'd enjoyed playing with Yvette and I needed the services of a slut. It was
after 1.00, and I knew Kim would be hanging around the front of the
shop like a bitch on heat.
Kim's eyes had that look in them again when I opened the door. It's a
look that's hard to describe: Lust; Desperation; The look of a woman who
seems to be always on the brink of orgasm. I guess the best way of
describing it is the look of a slut.
" I've changed my mind." I said casually to Kim as I opened the door.
" I'm not in the mood for you." Kim's expression quickly changed.
" There must be something I can do for you. You know I'll do anything."
" Are you wet Kim?"
" Yes, my panties are soaked." She panted excitedly, that look returning
to her eyes.
" Show me." She smiled mischievously and looked up and down the
street. It was lunchtime, the streets were busy, people walking past,
lost in the monotony of their boring little lives.
The thing with women like Kim is they don't care what people think of
them. Kim should work as a whore, not a bank teller. Eventually, I was
sure she would.
She reached up under her skirt, slid her panties down her legs and held
them up for me. A guy strolling past tripped over his own feet, an elderly
woman waiting for a bus nearly lost her false teeth.
I looked at the panties Kim had been wearing and was now holding in
front of my face. Red silk and lace G-String panties. Yvette's panties.
Stained with both women's juices.
I took Kim into my office, bent her over my desk and fucked her up the
arse. I always wear a condom when I fuck Kim up the arse. You never
know where a woman like her has been, or what she's had up her arse.
She wasn't as tight as she used to be up there, wear and tear I guess.
But listening to her squeal as I fucked her made me feel good. I pulled
out when I was ready to cum. Kim quickly fell to her knees pulled off the
condom and swallowed every drop of my cum. I wiped my cock with her
hair and told her to leave. Kim hadn't cum, but that was never a
consideration for me. She'd get herself off in the toilet back at work.
Probably sucking on Yvette's panties while she finger-fucked herself.
PLAYING WITH YVETTE:
by Just Another Bloke
CHAPTER 4.
Yvette looked just how I wanted her to look when she walked back into
the shop. A picture of innocence dressed in white. Her hands fidgeted
nervously in front of her crotch as she waited for me. A middle aged man
in an expensive suit paid me for the photos of his daughters sixteenth
birthday party.
" Fuck your daughter's ugly." I said to myself as I handed him his change.
He'd watched Yvette come into the shop and had been stealing glances
of her as he paid me and took his change.
" She's a whore Paul." I said casually. A huge smirk spread across his
face and he turned and looked at her. " Come here." I said to Yvette.
Slowly, she forced herself to walk towards us, her eyes darting around
the room not really knowing where to look.
" What's your name again ?" I asked, as Yvette stood beside the man
who thought she was a prostitute.
" Jane." Yvette replied quickly, nervously.
" That's right. Say hello to Mr Walters Jane." Yvette forced herself to
smile at him. " Hello Mr Walters." I could almost feel the hatred she felt
for me, but it was still early in our relationship. I was confident that
Yvette would grow to hate me even more the longer our relationship
lasted.
" She's a bit of a plain Jane but she's got a nice arse."
" Hello Jane." He said as he patted Yvette on her arse.
" She's cheap too." I added. " Do you want her number ? "
He looked her up and down and thought about it for a moment and then
shook his head." No thanks. I like them younger if I'm going to pay for it.
"
Yvette's eyes suddenly burned into his. " No offence Jane." He added,
quickly patting her on the arse again. " She never wears any panties. Do
you Jane? Show him." I didn't expect her to do it, not this early in our
relationship, but the stupid bitch did. She looked nervously at the door to
the shop and then reached down and lifted the hem of her white dress
up to her waist.
She had dressed exactly as I had told her to. White high heeled shoes,
and white silk stockings held up by the straps of a lacy white garter belt
And as Paul and I could clearly see, no panties. She'd given herself a trim
too; her pubic hair was now just a thin strip running down her slit.
" Shit ! She doesn't wear panties!" His eye's were fixed on her freshly
shaved cunt, Yvette's eye's were still fixed on the door to the shop. She
bit her bottom lip and her face turned crimson as she stood there holding
her dress up, exposing her sex to a stranger.
" Alright Jane." I said to Yvette as a hint of moister appeared to glisten off
her cunt lips. " That's enough, you'll start charging us in a minute."
Yvette quickly pulled her dress back down and covered herself, she
looked so relieved, for a moment I thought she was going to thank me.
The door wasn't even shut behind him before Yvette started asking me
what phone number I'd given him, demanding almost that I tell her. I
let her have her tantrum, and then threw some copies of her photos on
the floor of the shop. " Would you rather I just gave him these ?"
Her tantrum came to an abrupt end as she knelt down and frantically
picked up her photos that were now scattered all over the floor." Don't
ever speak to me like that again." I said coldly as I threw another
photo into the air and watched it float across the room. I locked the door
and put the" Closed " sign in the window. Yvette was still stuffing the
pictures into her purse as I walked off into my office.
I was sitting at my desk when Yvette crept sheepishly into the room and
stood in front of me. She'd gotten herself quite worked up and her
forehead glistened with beads of perspiration. I noticed her glance up at
the wall above me. She looked away quickly when she saw the 24"X 24 "
picture of her hanging there. But it was a different picture to the one that
was there this morning. She had the red dildo up her arse in this one.
She was thinking what I wanted her to be thinking: " How many copies of
those pictures has he got; how many has he blown-up and framed?"
" You do look like a whore Yvette. I wanted you dressed in pure virginal
white, but there's nothing pure or virginal about you. How old were you
when you lost your virginity Yvette ? 11.....12.... "
" 17 !" She said angrily. Regretting she'd opened her dumb slut mouth
the instant the word escaped her lips. I let her cringe from her own
stupidity for a while and then said quietly:
" That's right, you prefer to stick big plastic things up yourself. What
else do you like to fuck yourself with Yvette? Candles....Bottles...Baseball
Bats? You could fit the thick end of a Baseball bat up that hole of yours.
Got any more photos you want developed Yvette ?"
Her eyes fell to the floor as a new wave of embarrassment washed over
her. This seemed like an amusing line of conversation, so I told her to
look at me and said:" I asked you a question slut."
" Just dildos and vibrators. I've only ever used dildos and vibrators." She
sounded and looked pathetic.
" Why did you lift your dress up out there to show that guy what you've
got between your legs? Nice job with the razor by the way. You didn't cut
anything you need did you?"
" I did it because you told me to." The tone of her voice and the
expression on her face didn't change. She obviously wasn't enjoying our
conversation. I got up and moved around the desk and stood in front of
her. I stared into her eyes as I gently cupped her tits in my hands.
" You really don't want those photos of you spread around the place, do
you Yvette ?"
" No I don't." She said, avoiding my eyes again. I just stood there for a
while fondling her tits and enjoying the look of humiliation on her face.
" When you said you'd pay me for the photos what sort of amount were
you thinking of Yvette ?" Her head spun around and she looked at me.
" How much do you want ?" Her eyes had lit up and her voice had an
almost child-like excitement to it. I enjoyed the way her head and
shoulders slumped when she saw the smile on my face.
" You know what to do Yvette." I whispered softly in her ear, enjoying the
smell of her perfume and the cringing of her body. I walked back and sat
in the chair behind my desk and watched Yvette lift her dress up above
her waist.
" On your knees this time slut. Crawl over to me on your knees."
She looked at me with those cold hateful eyes and then glanced towards
the door. I watched her think about it for a second or two before giving in
and lowering herself to the floor. She pulled her dress up over her back
and crawled over to me on her hands and knees.
" Please spank my bare arse Sir." She said softly, her eyes fixed on the
floor again.
" Stand up and show me what's under your dress again slut."
She swallowed hard and stared off into space as she stood in front of me
holding the front of her dress up above her waist, her cunt only a few feet
from my face. I picked up the metal ruler and ran it up the inside of her
thighs."
" You don't consider yourself a slut, do you? The truth Yvette."
" No Sir, I don't." Her voice had more than a hint of bitterness in it.
I lent back in my chair and looked at her. " Well Yvette. I would have
thought that a woman who stands in the middle of a shop and lifts up
her skirt to show her freshly shaved cunt to a stranger was a slut. I would
have thought a woman who begs a man she hardly knows to spank her
bare arse was a slut. We obviously have different definitions of what a
slut is." I ran the ruler up the inside of her thighs and over her cunt.
" What are you Yvette?"
" I'm a slut Sir." There was no hesitation this time. But she was just
saying what she thought I wanted to hear. She still didn't consider herself
a slut. She was being forced to do all these things. It was like being
raped. She was a victim. That's how Yvette wanted to see herself.
I ran my hand up her legs and gently undid the little straps on her garter
that held up her stockings. "You've got a nice cunt slut. Nice little cunt-
lips, a big clit."
" Thank you Sir." She forced herself to say as I tapped her thighs with the
metal ruler.
" You want me to touch your cunt, don't you slut? You want me to rub
that big clit of yours."
" Yes. Yes Sir I do." She lied in a quivering voice.
" Well I don't want to touch your dirty cunt Yvette. I don't want to shove
things up your big cunt. I'll leave that to you, and from the photos I've
seen, you're very good at it."
Yvette liked it when I talked about her cunt. I could see that she liked
it and I knew she could feel the way her body had embarrassed her.
" Do you like it when I talk about your cunt Yvette?" I asked as her
eye's met mine. " Do you like it when I talk about touching your cunt, do
you like it when I talk about sticking big things up your big cunt ?"
" Yes I do Sir." She wanted to think she was lying again, but she wasn't
lying this time.
" That's why your cunt is getting wet, isn't it ? " She couldn't answer me.
She couldn't bring herself to admit what was happening to her. I didn't
make her answer me, the look on her face said it all.
" Well you can stick things up your cunt when you get home Yvette. I
have other things I want to do to you. Now get your slut arse up here !"
She quickly draped herself across my lap relieved that I didn't pursue the
subject of her cunt any further. Then I heard her gasp when she saw
what I had for her on the floor.
I ran my hand over her arse and admired the red mark I'd tattooed on
her for a while. " Pass me the paddle Yvette."
The black leather paddle was on the floor beside my chair right below
where I knew her face would be when she lay across my lap. Her hand
shook as she reached down and picked it up and she made another
whimpering sound when she saw the other side of it; the side with spiked
silver metal studs all over it.
" What do you want me to spank you with Yvette ?"
" With your hand Sir." She said, knowing it was the wrong answer.
She swore loudly as the ruler struck her hard across the inside of her
thigh. " What do you want me to spank you with Yvette ?"
" With this." She forced herself to say as she held the paddle up for me.
" Do you want me to spank you with the paddle slut?" She swore again
as the ruler hit the same tender spot on her thigh.
" Yes. Yes please Sir." She gasped. " I want you to spank me with the
paddle please."
" Kiss it Yvette." I said watching the paddle shaking in her hand. She
brought it up to her mouth and quickly touched it against her lips. Her
body arched and she threw her head back and grunted loudly as the
ruler hit the same spot for the third time. She didn't need any further
explanations of what was required. She started kissing the paddle
quickly, almost passionately.
" That's a good girl. Now lick it."
Her tongue left a trail of saliva as she ran it over the black leather of the
paddle. She turned it over and did the same to the side with the studs
on it. " Now suck the handle, suck it like you do that big dildo of yours."
I ran the ruler along the inside of her thigh, she looked back at me over
her shoulder for an instant and then wrapped her mouth around the
handle of the paddle and sucked and licked on it just the way I wanted
her to.
" Pick a number between 50 and 100 Yvette." I said, as I watched the
handle sliding in and out of her mouth.
" 51." She said sliding the handle out of her mouth just long enough to
say it. " Clever girl." I said smiling. " Now pass me the paddle."
She slid the handle out of her mouth again and passed it to me over her
shoulder." After each smack on your arse you will thank me, and tell me
how many more you want. If you lose count we start again. If you don't
speak politely we start again. If you put your hands in the way like you did
this morning we start again. If you take too long to ask for the next one
we start again. Do you understand slut ?"
" Yes Sir, I understand." She said surprisingly politely as she braced
herself for the first one. I slowly rubbed the smooth side over her arse
and then the side with the studs. She would know the difference by the
time we were finished.
She didn't make a sound when the first blow hit her hard on her left
cheek. " Thank you Sir. Spank my arse 50 more times please."
Her eyes closed tight and her mouth opened wide as the studs bit into
her skin with the second blow. But again she made no noise.
" Thank you Sir. Spank my arse 49 more times please."
She was a stubborn little bitch. She knew she had to submit to whatever
I chose to inflict upon her, we both knew she had no choice. So she had
decided to try and defy me in another way. She was going to try and
endure it. She wanted to deny me the pleasure of seeing how much she
hated what I was doing to her.
She did well for a while. Her arse was glowing red and covered in little
marks left by the studs but she still hadn't made a sound other than
asking politely for the next one.
" Thank you Sir. Spank my arse 33 more times please."
I knew she thought that she was succeeding. So I continued to spank her
just hard enough for her to really begin to believe that she could endure
it. " Thank you Sir. Spank my arse 27 more times please." She was
almost half-way there and I knew she had convinced herself now that
she could endure it.
I held the paddle in front of her face. " You know what to do Yvette."
She hesitated and our eyes met for an instant as she looked back at me
over her shoulder. A look of humiliation and disgust. But slowly her
tongue slid out of her mouth and licked the leather paddle.
Yvette saw me pick the ruler up off the desk out of the corner of her eye
and suddenly she was running her tongue all over the leather paddle.
She licked it and kissed it even more quickly and passionately as I
rubbed the inside of her thigh with the metal ruler.
Yvette thought she could endure being spanked on her arse with the
paddle. It was painful and humiliating and she hated it, but she thought
she could tolerate it. But we both knew she couldn't take the sharp pain
of the metal ruler on the inside of her thighs.
" That's a good girl Yvette." I said, holding the paddle as she ran her
tongue all over it. I kept turning the paddle over so Yvette's tongue could
enjoy the taste and the feel of both the plain side and the studded side.
I ran the paddle over her shoulder and down her back to her arse. The
metal studs left a little red trail of scratch marks on her skin. " Look at
me slut." I said as I ran the edge of the paddle down the crack of her
arse. She lifted her head and looked up at me over her shoulder again.
" How many more times do you want me to spank you with it Yvette ?"
The look of disdain on her face quickly gave way to a look of horror. She
wasn't sure. Was it 26 ? 27 ?. It might have been 25. She thought she
knew but she wasn't certain, and if she was wrong she knew we'd start
again. I could see her straining to remember.
" Spank my arse 27 more times please Sir." She said it nervously and
very unconvincingly.
" No. It was 26 Yvette." You lost count, we'll have to start again.
Her head slumped forward and she swore quietly to herself. Any thoughts
of enduring it were gone now. She looked back up at me and said softly:
" Spank my arse 51 more times please Sir." Her eyes and her voice were
filled with contempt but as much as she despised me and hated what I
was doing to her, at that moment she was more disgusted and angry with
herself for losing count.
" You mean, spank my slut arse, don't you Yvette?" Yvette hated it when I
called her a slut, and hated it even more when I made her call herself a
slut.
" Yes Sir. Spank my slut arse 51 more times please."
By the time we got to 27 again Yvette was bucking wildly on my lap
with each slap of the paddle on her burning red cheeks.
" Thank you Sir. Spank my slut arse 27 more times please." She panted,
her voice low and breathless. It was taking longer with each blow for her
to ask for the next one. There were nine to go and I watched as she tried
to make herself ask for it.
" If you hadn't lost count we'd be finished by now Yvette." Her head spun
around and she glared at me over her shoulder. I don't think she wanted
to be reminded of that.
" Thank you Sir. Spank my slut arse 9 more times please." She said it
with all the strength she could muster. I watched her face grimace and
listened to her grunt as the paddle hit her again and her head fell limply
towards the floor. But somehow she managed to lift her head up and
look back over her shoulder at me again.
" Thank you Sir. Spank my slut arse 8 more times please."
She lifted her head up and looked back at me a few more times. She's a
stubborn but stupid little bitch. It didn't occur to her that what she was
doing just stirred me to spank her harder.
There were five to go but she didn't lift her head to look at me anymore.
" Thank you Sir. Spank my slut arse 5 more times please." She said
quickly and as soon as the leather paddle slapped against her skin she
grunted loudly and asked for the next one. She just wanted to get it over
with as quickly as possible now. But I didn't.
" Thank you Sir. Spank my slut arse 4 more times please." She panted
again loudly. Her body was tense waiting for the paddle to slap against
her but it didn't. The room was silent except for the sound of Yvette's
heavy breathing.
" Spank my slut arse 4 more times please Sir." Her voice was just a
sobbing whimper now and her body hung limply across my lap. She
groaned as the paddle hit her.
I made her wait even longer for the next two and I could hear the relief
in her voice when she said: " Thank you Sir. Spank my slut arse 1 more
time please." Yvette moaned as the paddle hit her for the last time. It
almost sounded as if she enjoyed it, in a way I think she did.
I ran my fingers up her leg and she flinched when I rubbed the glowing
cheeks of her sore red arse. She swore loudly as I dug my finger nails
into
her tender skin and told her to get up.
She dragged herself up off my lap. Her face was red and smeared with
beads of perspiration and she was still breathing heavily as she stood
unsteadily in front of me. Her pretty white dress was creased and twisted
and her silk stockings had slid down to her ankles. But she had that glow
about her that women get after a great orgasm or a great spanking.
" Can I go now please Sir?" She asked in a tone that was not as polite as
it should have been. But I had never intended to break her spirit
completely, yet.
" No. I want to see you in action with a big dildo. I've seen your publicity
shots, now I want to see the real thing. Take your dress off and get down
on the floor where you belong."
She hadn't stripped for me before, I hadn't seen her completely naked
before, and I liked what I saw, I liked it very much. Although, I get the
impression Yvette didn't particularly enjoy the experience.
" You've got big tits slut." I said devouring her body with my eyes. " You
could do with a bit of silicon though, you've got a bit of a sagging tits
problem, haven't you ?"
" Yes Sir. My tits sag too much." She answered softly, with a touch of
defiance. But I wasn't being overly critical just for the sake of it. She did
have big tits, and they did sag too much. " And a bit of Lipo-Suction on
your arse wouldn't hurt either. And maybe a face-lift, iron out a few of
those lines around your eyes." I was being a bit pedantic now. " Alright
Yvette, get down on the floor and do your stuff."
I threw a big red dildo onto the floor. It was similar to the one Yvette had
been intimate with in the photos. She lowered herself to the floor and
somewhat reluctantly picked up the dildo." I've got a better idea." I said
as I stood up and walked towards the door." Come this way. As in walk
this way Yvette." I thought I better clarify that point for her.
I took her into the Entertainment room and had her lie on a
gynaecological table, with her feet in the stirrups and her legs spread
wide apart. I sat on a stool at the end of the table. I'd get a much better
view from there. " Okay Yvette, do your stuff."
Yvette had been pretty sheepish when she'd followed me into the
Entertainment room. She didn't like that room. She didn't like the
equipment in it. She didn't like the gynaecological table, or the things
under the table, or the mirror on the ceiling above where she lay. Yvette
was pretty fucking hard to please.
I made her look at herself in the mirror, she didn't like how easily the big
dildo slid inside her wet cunt either. Bit embarrassing I suppose. She
fucked herself with the dildo, but she wouldn't let herself enjoy it. The
expression on her face was very different to the one she had in her
photos. " Here, stick this up your arse." I said, handing her a butt-plug
from under the table. " Sorry Yvette, I haven't got any lube. you'll have to
improvise."
She lifted the butt-plug to her mouth and sucked on it, lubricating it with
her saliva. Yvette obviously had some experience in sticking things up
her arse. Perhaps I should have mentioned that the butt-plug hadn't
been cleaned since Melanie had used it the night before. Too late now.
She reached between her legs and slowly slid the plug up her arse, all
the way up her arse. She had a slightly different expression on her face
now.
She fucked herself with the dildo again, there was more passion, more
intensity in the way she did it this time, but she still wouldn't let herself
enjoy it." Hold this on that big clit of yours." I said, passing her a vibrator
from under the table. I even turned it on for her. She moaned softly as
she pushed the vibrator against her clit.
She didn't want to enjoy it, she did everything she could not to; but
what's a girl to do? She had a butt-plug up her arse, a vibrator on her clit,
and a big dildo sliding in and out of her cunt. Her cunt was making sloppy
noises as she fucked herself, and Yvette was starting to squirm around
on the table. I just sat there and watched, and made her watch herself in
the mirror on the ceiling above her. " Oh God no..." She moaned softly.
She didn't want it to happen, but she couldn't stop it.
" What sort of noises do you make when you cum Yvette?" I asked softly.
She licked her lips and moaned again, more loudly this time. " I'm about
to find out what noises you make when you cum, aren't I Yvette?"
" Yes." She panted, looking at herself in the mirror. She was fucking
herself faster now, the expression on her face much more like that in her
photos.
" Can you feel that thing up your arse Yvette." She groaned and her body
arched upwards as a surge of pleasure jolted her. " Do you want to cum
Yvette?"
" Yes." She was fucking herself furiously and thrashing around on the
table. " Oh fuck......" She cried out.
" You have to ask for permission to cum Yvette."
" You bastard." She groaned quietly. But I ignored her unkind remark.
People say things when they're in the throes of passion. I left her on the
edge until she couldn't wait any longer. " Can I cum please?" She looked
up at me with a mixture of shame and passion. " Can I cum now please
Sir?" There was an urgency in her voice.
" No." The look in her eyes told me she couldn't obey me. Her body
wouldn't let her obey me. She let out a loud grunting sound as her
orgasm hit her.
Yvette is a grunter. Loud, low, grunting noises. They're the sounds Yvette
made when she came. And she said: "Oh God." and " Oh fuck." a lot too
when she came.
She had rolled over onto her side during her orgasm, at one stage I
thought she was going to fall off the table. " Can I go now please." She
whispered softly, without looking at me. I'm sure Yvette had never felt so
humiliated in her life. But it was only our second date.
The sense of shame that consumed her never left her the whole time I
was tattooing her receipt on her arse. Her eyes had a glazed, vacant
look, and she seemed unable to talk in anything more than a whisper.
I took her back to my office and watched her get dressed. " Can I go now
please?" She asked again softly.
" Yes Yvette you can go. I think we'll go out for dinner tomorrow night.
Your arse should have recovered by then. Wear your best dress and
make yourself up as good as you can. You're only an average looking
woman Yvette so I'm not expecting very much. Just make the most of the
little you've got. Do you understand ? "
" Yes Sir, I understand."
" For your sake I hope you do. Be here at Eight."
She was walking quickly towards the door when I looked at her and said:
" Oh and by the way Yvette, you didn't lose count when I was spanking
you." She stopped for a moment but decided against giving me the
pleasure of seeing the expression on her face.
PLAYING WITH YVETTE:
by Just Another Bloke
CHAPTER 5.
There was a soft knock on the glass door of my shop at exactly Eight
o'clock the following night. I sat on the desk where the young sluts I hire
from time to time work. The second knock was louder and longer than
the first. By Twenty past Eight Yvette was banging on the door so hard I
thought she was going to break the tinted glass.
I could see out but Yvette couldn't see into the shop. She looked pretty
good from what I could see of her . But by Eight Thirty she was almost
frantic as she banged on the door and looked up and down the street
nervously. I loved the desperate and confused expression on her face as
I made her wait and wonder what was going on. She actually looked
relieved when I finally opened the door.
I'd done some research on Yvette since our last date. I knew now why
she had taken the slut option so quickly; why she was so desperate not
to have those pictures circulated to a wide audience. I knew why, but I
didn't understand why. More importantly though, I knew now she would
do anything I told her to.
" You're late ! " I said angrily as I pulled her into the shop.
" I'm sorry......I was here...." Yvette was rather sheepish. Still a bit
embarrassed about getting herself off in front of me the way she did the
night before I guess.
" I don't want to hear your excuses slut." I said, as I sat back up on the
desk. "Now, give me a look at you, walk around and do a few little
pirouettes for me."
Her discomfort was obvious as she modelled her outfit for me. Her
movements were awkward and uncoordinated and her pirouettes were
embarrassingly clumsy.
" You're no Cat-Walk model are you Yvette." Actually she looked pretty
good. Her short dark hair was shiny and soft, she'd obviously spent a lot
of time doing her hair and putting on her make-up. She wore a very
expensive looking black evening dress with a modestly cut neckline
which offered just a glimpse of cleavage. The hem was quite short
though and the back plunged in a large 'V'.
" Basic Black hey Yvette. How predictable." I jumped off the desk and
walked up close to her. " Black dress, black stockings and black shoes.
Let me guess, your panties are........Red ?"
" No, they're black." She answered sarcastically. She was always a bit
aggressive at the start of our dates.
" Bend over the desk and lift up your skirt." She moved over to the desk,
lifted up her skirt, and lent forward until her tits were pushing down on
top of the desk. She wasn't very talkative.
I walked up behind her and ran my hands over her arse. " Very nice."
Yvette squealed as I pulled her panties down in one quick action leaving
her bare arse exposed. Then I walked around to the opposite side of the
desk and sat in the chair behind it, our faces just a few inches apart.
I took a small whip out from under the desk and held it up for Yvette to
see. It's called a 'cock-o-nine-tails'. It's basically a dildo with nine leather
strips about 12" long hanging off the end of it. Ideal for whipping a
woman in a confined space, such as the front of my shop.
Yvette became a bit bug-eyed when she saw it. I twirled it around in the
air letting Yvette hear the sound it made, and then hit the desk in front of
her face.
" Pick a number between 98 and 100 Yvette."
" 99......Sir." I really didn't like her attitude. She flinched and grunted
loudly as the whip slapped against her arse. She froze for a moment, like
a rabbit caught in a spotlight. Then her head suddenly spun around to
see who had hit her.
" Say thank you Miss." Kim yelled at her. Yvette looked back up at me,
her mind was racing. Her eyes pleaded with me not to let Kim whip her. It
obviously hadn't crossed her mind that I would let anybody else play with
her. Let alone another woman. I didn't say anything, I just stared back at
her, enjoying the look of horror on her face. Kim hit her again.
Yvette closed her eyes as her head slumped onto the desk and she said:
" Thank you Miss, please whip me 97 more times." She hadn't thanked
Kim for the first one, but I was in a good mood. The whip struck her
hard against her flesh again: " Thank you Miss, please whip me 96 more
times."
I hadn't let Kim whip another woman before, and she was really enjoying
herself. Her face was almost as red as Yvette's. And she kept reaching
up under her skirt and rubbing herself between the legs.
I made Yvette lift her face and look at me while Kim whipped her. I loved
the different expressions on her face. The orgasmic look as the whip
struck her, the helplessness in her eyes as she waited for the next one,
and the embarrassment as she thanked Kim for whipping her.
As the whipping continued Kim grew more and more aroused. Her skirt
was on the floor and her hand was down the front of her panties, each
blow of the whip seemed harder than the last.
" Thank you Miss. Please whip me 43 more times." Yvette panted.
" Wait." I said to Kim. " Not yet." I stood up and walked around behind
Yvette and discussed her bare red arse in great detail with Kim. I made
both women wait while I walked back and sat in the seat behind the desk
again. Yvette was holding onto the edge of the desk, her face was red,
her forehead smeared with perspiration. " Ask again, slut." I said, looking
into Yvette's eyes, just a few inches from mine; and say it like you mean
it this time slut or we'll start again. I hope you haven't lost count."
" Please whip the slut 43 more times Miss." Yvette panted breathlessly.
" Please Miss, I love it when you whip me, I love it when you whip my slut
arse, please whip my arse 43 more times Miss." She was really
overdoing it now. She obviously didn't want to start again.
Kim whipped Yvette with an intensity and a passion that can only be
shared between two women. When it was over, Yvette's head slumped
onto the desk. " Thank you Miss." She whispered, without being told to.
" Have you ever been touched by another woman Yvette?"
" No Miss." She answered quickly. " I don't like......" Yvette froze again as
she felt Kim's hands caressing her burning arse. Yvette's eyes were
begging me not to let Kim touch her. It seemed Yvette would rather Kim
hit her than touch her. But what Yvette wanted was irrelevant. She
closed her eyes as Kim's hands groped and grabbed at her.
Kim was rubbing her own cunt hard now, moaning softly as she caressed
Yvette's arse and thighs. I knew from the look on her face that Kim was
about to cum. " Stop playing with yourself and kiss her better."
Yvette's eyes sprung open, pleading with me again and Kim let out a
frustrated groan as she took her hands out of her panties and knelt
down behind Yvette.
I made Yvette describe everything Kim was doing to her: " She's licking
the cheeks of my arse where she hit me with the whip. Soft. She's licking
my arse softly, gently. It feels good Sir." Yvette didn't mean to say the last
bit. But the words just came out. She bit her lip nervously. Partly from
embarrassment at having said what she did, and partly from the sense
of arousal she felt as Kim caressed her arse with her tongue.
" Have you ever had a woman stick her tongue up your arse Yvette?"
" No Sir." She moaned. " Please don't let her do that." She begged me, a
sense of panic filling her eyes again.
" What are you Yvette?"
" A slut Sir."
" Whose slut are you Yvette?"
" I'm your slut Sir."
" And Kim's slut Yvette. Say it."
" I'm Kim's slut too Sir." Yvette moaned loudly as she said it. She
couldn't deny what was happening to her. I made her look into my eyes
and describe what Kim was doing to her again: " She's pulled the cheeks
of my arse apart with her hands." Yvette panted. " I can feel her tongue
on the outside of my arse hole. Licking the outside of my arse hole."
Yvette's face contorted with pleasure as she felt Kim's tongue against
her tight little arse hole.
" Her tongue's.....pushing......pushing against my arse hole. She's trying
to get her tongue inside me." Yvette's eyes were still locked on mine as
she let out a loud grunting sound. " Fuck!" She cried out. " Her tongue's
inside me now. Her tongue's up my arse. Pushing deeper inside my
arse......Oh God......She's fucking my arse with her tongue......She's
fucking my arse hole with her tongue......"
" That's enough Kim." I said, still looking into Yvette's eyes. " I think
Yvette has embarrassed herself enough for now. Yvette collapsed onto
the desk and Kim onto the floor.
" Please let me cum." Kim panted. " Let me cum with my tongue up her
arse...Please..." Kim was sprawled out on the floor, her panties around
one ankle, her legs wide apart, and three fingers thrusting in and out of
her soaked cunt. Her eyes were on fire, she's almost uncontrollable
when she gets like that. It was either let her cum or get the hose out.
" Alright Kim." I said. " But hurry up. Yvette and I are going out for
dinner." Yvette lifted her head up off the desk and looked at me with an
expression I can't describe, but I knew what it meant. " No Yvette". I
said smiling and looking into her eyes. " You can't cum."
Again I made Yvette describe what Kim was doing: " She's pulled my arse
cheeks apart again, and her tongue's pushing against my arse hole
again. She's not as gentle this time." Yvette was breathing heavily, and
finding it difficult to speak. She groaned loudly and her eyes rolled back:
" Her tongue's up my arse again. Moving around inside my arse again. I
can hear her fucking herself......I can hear the sloppy sounds her cunt is
making as she fucks herself." Yvette was close to orgasm too.
" She's pushed her tongue further up my arse now, but it's not moving
around anymore, I think she's going to cum.." Kim's screams of ecstasy
drowned Yvette out as her orgasm erupted inside her.
Yvette groaned loudly as Kim's tongue slid out of her. Kim was still
writhing on the floor like the slut on heat she was. She'd cum again if I let
her. I left Yvette bent over the desk, and walked over to Kim who was still
fucking herself like a wild thing.
" Get up !" I yelled at her. " Go home and fuck your husband for a
change." Kim smiled at me and made an almost growling sort of sound
as she licked her juices off her fingers.
But one thing about Kim, she does as she's fucking told. She got up,
pulled her panties up, put her skirt back on, straightened herself up a bit,
thanked me, and left.
Yvette was still bare-arsed and bent over the desk. She'd had several
minutes to wallow in the embarrassment she'd created for herself.
She had resigned herself to the humiliation of submitting to me, but she
hadn't anticipated having to endure the humiliation of enjoying it. She
didn't know herself very well. She didn't know what she was, but she was
finding out.
" Get up and tidy yourself up Yvette." She couldn't look at me as she
slowly stood up. Her sense of shame was too intense. " For someone
who has never had another woman's tongue up her arse you sure got off
on it Yvette."
" Yes Sir." She mumbled as she pulled her panties up. Not much of an
answer really. I considered humiliating her more by making her tell me
how much she enjoyed Kim's tongue up her arse. How close she was to
cumming. But the night was young. There were other things I wanted to
do with Yvette.
" Well, Kim's eaten, let's go have dinner. " I said, as I watched her
straighten her dress. " I told you to make yourself look as good as you
can. Is this it ?"
" Yes Sir." Yvette still didn't have a lot to say. What a timid little thing the
arrogant bitch had become. And she still couldn't look at me. The night
was turning out better than I had hoped.
" Well it will have to do then won't it. But I must say I'm disappointed. I
thought you would scrub up a lot better than this. Come on then slut,
you're taking me out to dinner remember. You brought money with you
didn't you."
" Yes Sir, I've got money." She finally forced herself to look at me and her
expression changed. She suddenly realised that she was dressed up like
she was going to an Opening Night at The Opera House, but I was
dressed in only old jeans, a T-shirt, denim jacket and sneakers.
I took a small strap-on vibrator out of my pocket and put it on the desk
" Have you ever seen: 'When Harry met Sally' Yvette didn't get it at first.
" Put this on." She got it now.
The vibrator is called a 'Ladybird'. The woman wears it like a pair of
panties, under her panties, if she's wearing any. It's held in place with
little black adjustable straps. The plastic part which vibrates is contoured
to sit snugly on the woman's clit. Two small wires run to a little flat plastic
box which holds the batteries and has a three speed switch on it.
I held Yvette's dress up for her as she took off her panties and strapped
the thing around her waist and crotch. Her cunt was soaked from what
Kim had done to her, but I was too much of a gentleman to say anything.
I didn't need to anyway. She was well aware of how wet she was." You've
done this before." I said smiling. Yvette didn't smile back, or say
anything. Her lack of response was starting to piss me off. " You've used
one of these before, haven't you slut!"
" No Sir, I haven't." She sensed I was losing patience with her. " I've seen
them in shops and catalogues Sir, but I've never used one." I helped her
thread the little plastic box and wires up under her garter and bra and
positioned it on the side of her left bra cup where we could get at the
little switch. I checked that the straps were tight, and that the vibrating
piece was positioned right on her clit. Then I turned it on low, a bit of a
test run.
I could tell from the look on Yvette's face that it was doing what it was
meant to do. " Is it sitting on your clit Yvette?"
" Yes Sir." She answered softly, licking her lips anxiously." It's...right on
my clit." I left it on low while Yvette put her panties back on and
straightened her dress. We could hear the little vibrator purring away
quietly under her dress, and under her panties; and from the look on her
face, Yvette could feel the vibrations, and liked the way they felt.
" You never told me if you've seen: When Harry met Sally?"
" Yes Sir, I've seen it." Her body was starting to respond to the
sensations of the vibrator on her clit. Her eyes had that look in them, and
she seemed to find it difficult to stand still.
" Alright Yvette, turn it off and calm down. You'll be making those
grunting noises again if you don't turn it off soon." Her face was that
familiar red colour. A combination of embarrassment and lust.
" Let's dine." I said, as I took her arm and escorted her to the door. " You
do smell good Yvette. ' Lou Lou' is it ?"
" No Sir. 'Poison'." Perhaps she wasn't such a dumb bitch after all.
Leo's is a crappy little beer and burger joint a few blocks up the road
from my shop. It's a hangout for prostitutes and losers. The perfect place
for Yvette. Even in my old jeans and T-shirt I was overdressed for Leo's.
Yvette opened the door for me without me having to tell her to, and
almost every eye in the place was on her as soon as she walked in
behind me. Not everyone noticed her straight away, but those that
hadn't were soon having Yvette pointed out to them by someone who
had.
I wanted Yvette where everybody could see her so I told her to sit at the
counter and order us some burgers and fries. People were staring at her
and making comments to each other as they watched her walk over to
the counter in her beautiful black evening dress.
" Would you like to see the wine list Madam." The slut behind the bar
asked sarcastically. " No thank you." Yvette spat back at her. " Two
works burgers with fries please."
" The Lobster's very good tonight." The guy sitting on the stool next to her
said, then he turned to his slut girlfriend and they nearly pissed
themselves laughing.
I walked up and sat on the stool on the other side of her and ordered two
beers. " Turn it on." Yvette sucked her lip into her mouth anxiously as
she discretely reached into the top of her dress and turned the little
vibrator on low. With all the noise in the place no one would hear the
little vibrator, but Yvette would feel it purring away against her clit.
The slut behind the bar returned with our drinks and gave Yvette a
strange look. Yvette had an odd expression on her face. " Do you like the
way it feels Yvette?"
" Yes Sir." She answered nervously. Then out of the blue, she looked at
me and said:" Why are you doing this to me?" What a fucking stupid
question.
" Why do you fuck yourself with dildos?" She looked straight into my eyes
and without any hint of embarrassment said: " Because I enjoy it." She
had her answer.
Yvette was getting restless on her stool by the time we finished our
drinks. Her face was glowing with passion again. This was going to be
fun. " Turn it up onto medium." I said without looking at her. She looked
around the bar nervously as she reached in and turned the little vibrator
up a notch. I could hear it now, just faintly, purring away between her
legs.
The food at Leo's is only marginally more appealing than the whores who
ply their trade there. We ate in silence. I wanted Yvette to hear what was
being said about her, she was the centre of attention in her beautiful
black evening dress. And the way she was squirming around on the stool
attracted a fair bit of attention too. Actually, Yvette didn't eat anything,
she seemed somewhat distracted. She was hanging onto the end of the
bar and wriggling around on her stool. And she was making strange
noises every so often.
When I'd finished my burger I looked at her and said: " How's your arse
Yvette ?" " Sore, Sir." She panted in a desperate voice. She couldn't hold
on much longer. The slut behind the bar came up to collect our plates.
Yvette buried her face in her hand, she knew how she must have looked,
what the expression on her face meant.
The slut behind the bar looked at Yvette's untouched burger. "
Something wrong with it?" She asked in a terribly common voice. Yvette
couldn't answer.
" She's not feeling herself at the moment." I said smiling. The slut
waitress didn't get my little joke, but Yvette did.
Suddenly Yvette started making very soft grunting noises, her body went
all tense, and then she let out a long soft sigh. " Can we go now?" She
asked looking over at me, a slightly different expression on her face.
" No." I hate it when women fake orgasm, and Yvette wasn't even very
good at it. " Turn it up onto high. And don't ever try and deceive me
again." Her hand was shaking as she reached into the top of her dress
and turned the little vibrator up onto it's highest setting. I didn't have to
strain as hard to hear it now. Yvette looked at me, a desperate look.
" Would you like to sit in a booth Yvette?"
" Yes please Sir." She moaned softly, her body rocking slowly backwards
and forwards on the stool. " We would have if you hadn't have tried to
deceive me slut." Yvette whimpered loudly and buried her face in her
arms on top of the counter.
" Is she alright?" The slut waitress asked from down the end of the bar.
" She will be in a minute." Yvette was rocking faster on the stool now,
rubbing herself against it, pushing the vibrator harder against her
swollen clit. " Oh God no." She moaned softly.
She had the full attention of everybody in the bar when she climaxed.
She couldn't hide what was happening to her. She was grunting too
loudly, and sliding around on the stool too much for people not to notice
and not to know what was happening. Someone even pulled the plug on
the Jute-box.
She grunted loudly as her orgasm stopped as quickly as it had started.
She didn't get a round of applause, but the audience had enjoyed the
show she'd put on.
" Can we go now please?" She asked without looking at me.
I knew someone would say it, it was so predictable, but it needed to be
said I guess. A very ugly old slut of a thing in a booth near the door
looked at Yvette as we opened the door and said: " I'll have what she's
having."
We walked out, leaving a murmur of comments about the slut in the
stupid dress behind us. I'm sure Yvette called me a bastard under her
breath as we walked outside. "Can I turn this thing off now?" She asked,
with the face of a woman who had just had a great orgasm. Where was
the gratitude?
I took her back to my shop and allowed her the privilege of sucking me
off. She'd obviously sucked cock before, but she wasn't very good at it. I
ended up holding her by the hair and fucking her face. Fortunately for
her, she had the good sense to swallow my cum without being told to.
I gave Yvette her receipt: she now had three red marks tattooed on her
arse and there were only two to go, I was enjoying playing with Yvette.
PLAYING WITH YVETTE:
by Just Another Bloke
CHAPTER 6.
I didn't contact Yvette after that night. I spent some time playing with
Linda. I'd had to start giving Linda her receipts on her right arse cheek.
There was no room left on Linda's other cheek; despite the fact she had
a fat arse.
After about a week, Yvette's anxiety got the better of her and she rang
me at the shop. I guess she'd reached a point where she couldn't just sit
around waiting to hear from me, wondering what the fuck was going
on, what I was going to do to her next, or what I may have already done
with her photos; then again, perhaps she just missed me.
She sounded somewhat distressed and was babbling away nervously.
Poor Yvette didn't seem to know what to say or how to start that
particular conversation. I interrupted her and said: " When do you get
your period?" The line went quiet for a moment. Then I heard Yvette's
soft voice: " Um, in a few days, that's why I'm ringing. I...."
" Come and see me when you've got them. Leave home at noon. Wear a
short skirt; a very short skirt and leave the Tampon string hanging down
between your legs where people can see it. Catch a bus into Central,
then a train out to Homebush, then a bus back into the city, and walk to
Bondi from there. And don't try and deceive me, do exactly as I tell you.
You never know who is watching you Yvette." Then I hung up.
I had no way of knowing which day she was coming to see me, and I had
no one following her. But Yvette was paranoid enough to do as she was
told.
She came into the shop about 3.00pm the following Monday. She wore a
very very short white skirt, and had a Tampon string hanging down
between her legs. She'd done exactly as I had told her to. I'm sure it had
been an interesting afternoon for her, travelling around the City like that.
Rachael, the skinny slut who worked for me at the time saw Yvette first. I
watched her call Yvette over, and heard her whisper about the Tampon
string hanging between her legs. How many people had done the same
thing that afternoon, I wondered?
" I know." Yvette said sheepishly. Even the incredibly slutty Rachael
found that a bit too strange. She backed away as if Yvette had some
infectious disease.
I could see the anger rising inside Yvette when I told her I had no
intention of playing with her that day, and to come back Saturday night
when she wasn't all plugged up. I told her to dress like a whore and to be
here at 8.00pm. Then I told her to leave.
The embarrassment of travelling around the city with the Tampon string
hanging between her legs didn't count as a visit; didn't earn her a
receipt on her arse; didn't bring all this closer to an end. Yvette was
obviously furious when she left, seething with anger the poor thing.
Judging by the expression on her face as she walked out the door, I
wouldn't be surprised if Yvette had said some unkind things about me as
she walked down the street. The amusing aspect of it all was that Yvette
had got herself so worked up, she'd forgotten all about the Tampon
string still dangling between her legs. I would have loved to have seen
the look on Yvette's face when she finally realised what she'd done, and
how
extraordinarily stupid she was.
Yvette arrived at exactly 8.00pm the following Saturday night. She looked
good dressed as a whore: An extremely short red leather skirt, red fish-
net stockings, big red-leather boots, and a skimpy red tank-top:
" I'm glad you didn't have to buy any new clothes for tonight." I said
smiling, as I opened the door.
I took her up the street to where the whores hang out. There's a lane-way
between two shops where the whores service their clients, and a large
digital clock on the shop across the street; it was 8.34pm, too early for
the other whores, Yvette had the street all to herself.
I told her she had one hour to score a trick and get him off. She couldn't
charge less than $40 but she could fuck him, or suck him, or just jerk
him off; but she had to have proof that she'd done what was required. I
took her handbag off her and walked across the street to watch what
sort of a
whore Yvette could be.
She was very tentative, very timid with the first few men she approached.
Most of them didn't even look at her, let alone stop to assess what she
had to offer, and discuss how much it would cost. She kept looking up at
the clock: 8.55pm. She got more and more assertive with her
prospective clients as the minutes ticked by. A few men had stopped to
check her out, but by 9.05 she still hadn't scored her first trick. I could
see the distressed look on her face from across the street. She looked
like a desperate whore, is there any other kind ?
She paced up and down the footpath nervously, her anxiety growing with
each man that walked away or shooed her away. Then a guy staggered
up the street; he was looking at her. Like an old pro, Yvette saw the
opportunity and pounced. She draped herself all over him, rubbed
herself up against him.
I saw Yvette smile and watched them walk down the Laneway together. I
crossed the street, walked down the Laneway and stood in the shadows
to watch Yvette the whore in action.
His name was Mike, he was a scruffy middle aged man who had too
much to drink, and not enough money to pay for, an indoors whore with a
bed.
" Over here Mike." Yvette said, as she helped him prop himself up
against a large metal dumpster. Yvette put her face close to his and
looked into his eyes as she undid his belt and zipper and pushed his
jeans and underpants down far enough so as she could get at his cock.
She wrapped her hand around it and started fondling him.
" You've got such a big cock Mike." I heard her say. Yvette had a sexy
voice when she wanted one. " I can't wait to suck on your big cock and
have it inside me." All the time her hand was jerking on his cock.
Mike wanted to fuck her as soon as he was hard but Yvette said she
wanted to suck on his big cock first and lick his big balls. She kept
jerking
him off, desperately trying to make him cum so she wouldn't have to fuck
him or put his cock in her mouth." Come on bitch." Mike said in slurred
speech. "Bend over so I can fuck you."
" In a minute Mike. Just let me tell you what I'm going to do for you."
She leaned closer to him and whispered into his ear as she jerked his
cock as fast as she could. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but Mike
started to breath heavy, then he groaned loudly and his cum squirted
into the cool night air.
She left him leaning against the dumpster trying to pull his jeans and
underpants up. "That was very good Yvette." I said, as we walked back
out onto the street. " What did you say to him?"
" I played with myself and pretended to cum Sir." Yvette said timidly.
" It seems to work with most men."
" Where's the money and the proof?" Yvette had a $50 note in one hand,
and a handful of Mike's cum in the other. I took the money, grabbed
her wrist, and held her hand in front of her face. "You better do
something about this."
" Yes Sir." She knew what I meant, and closed her eyes when she did it.
We had a silent leisurely stroll back to my office after that. I allowed her
to suck me off again, she did a better job this time, and promised to do
even better next time.
I gave Yvette her receipt and sent her on her way. I wanted her back
Tuesday night at 11.00pm, dressed in her expensive black evening dress
again. It would be our last night together.
I was pleased with the way things had progressed with Yvette. She had
done well so far. But I hadn't really tested her yet. She had a lot more to
endure, but she'd lost the will to fight me. She'd learnt it was better to
just do as she was told and get it over with. And she'd certainly taken
pleasure in some of the things we'd done. She was an interesting
woman.
She arrived on time and I opened the door to my shop and motioned for
Yvette to stand aside. " Let's go and have a drink." I said, as I closed the
door behind me.
Yvette looked good again in her expensive black dress. And it was far
more suitable for the up-market Tavern I took her to. We sat at a table-
for-two and I ordered an expensive bottle of Chardonnay, which Yvette
paid for.
We didn't talk much. Yvette drank most of the bottle of wine on her own.
I guess she thought it would help her get through whatever it was I had in
mind for her. If that was the case, she needed something stronger than
wine.
There was music playing and a small, empty dance-floor, I told Yvette to
get up and dance. I wasn't the only one watching her, she wasn't much
of a model, but she knew how to strut her stuff on a dance-floor; which
gave me another idea. I thought the lyrics to the Macy Gray song were
rather prophetic too: 'Here is my confession. May I be your possession.'
Yvette seemed almost to be enjoying herself; enjoying the attention;
enjoying all those eyes on her. She was a bit tipsy but not drunk, I
ordered us some coffee anyway. I wanted her sober and aware of what
was being done to her. We sat there for a while relaxing; well, I was
relaxed, but I can't say Yvette looked particularly relaxed. We drank our
coffee, and then Yvette said softly:" Excuse me Sir. I need to go to the
bathroom."
" Slut's don't talk like that Yvette." I said, looking around the bar
disinterestedly. Yvette drank the remainder of her coffee, collected her
thoughts and said: " Excuse me Sir. I need to take a piss."
" Sure, go ahead." I said smiling. She stood up to go to the Ladies.
" You're no lady Yvette." I loved the horrified look on her face when she
realised what I meant. I hadn't seen that look on her face for a while.
" Please, don't make me do that. Not here. I know some people here."
" It's up to you Yvette." I said casually, reaching into my pocket and
pulling out some of her photos. I laid them face up on the table." What
would you rather people see Yvette?"
" Please put the photos away Sir." She pleaded desperately. " I'll do it."
Yvette would do anything, she'd rather piss herself in public than let
people see those pictures. I picked up the photos and put them back in
my pocket.
" Excuse me Sir." Yvette said softly. " The slut needs to piss."
" Sure Yvette, you can take a piss if you want to." I answered casually.
" Meg didn't do this in 'When Harry met Sally.'"I added, smiling.
" Thank you Sir." Yvette looked around the room nervously.
" Aren't you forgetting something?" She looked at me with that dumb
look of hers again. " Do you normally piss in your panties, or do you take
them off to piss?" Yvette was an educated woman, but fuck she was
dopey sometimes.
She reached under the table, lifted her arse off the seat, slid her panties
off and scrunched them up in her hand. " On the table." She sucked her
bottom lip into her mouth nervously as she put her panties next to the
ashtray. She'd already turned red with humiliation, I speculated to myself
as to what colour her face would turn when she did it.
She sat up straight in her chair, leant back, put her arms on the table,
spread her legs, and started pissing herself. I heard the sound of her hot
urine gushing onto her chair, and then dripping onto the floor. A waitress
noticed first and came rushing over.
"What the hell are you doing. Oh shit. You dirty bitch !"
" Sorry, I couldn't wait." Yvette said, looking up at the waitress defiantly
as she kept on pissing. The bar had erupted around her. " Oh fuck !"
" She's pissing herself." The comments became an outraged, disgusted
jumble of voices.
" Get out !" The waitress yelled at her. Yvette squeezed the last of it out
and stood up. Her beautiful black dress was drenched in her piss.
" You better clean that up." I said to the waitress as I stood up. She
looked like she was about to wet herself too. I grabbed Yvette's panties
off the table, took her by the arm, and led her out onto the street. She
didn't look like she was capable of walking on her own. If there was any
truth in the saying: ' I could have died of embarrassment,' Yvette would
have died in the Tavern that night.
She'd calmed down somewhat when we arrived back at my shop. Yvette
followed me down the corridor and I opened the door to the
Entertainment room. " In you go."
" Yes Sir." She slowly eased her way past me, her eyes darting nervously
around the room. Yvette turned suddenly pale when she saw the chain
that hung down from a hook in the ceiling. I watched as Yvette's eyes
moved from mine back towards the centre of the room to the chain with
the leather wrist straps hanging off it. I watched her eyes roam over the
spot where she would stand. It was surrounded by four full length
mirrors.
She walked slowly towards the middle of the room, stood under the
chain, and put her arms in the air and waited for me to tie her to the
straps.
I bound her hands above her head and walked around the room looking
at her. Yvette was looking at herself in the mirrors. Her eyes moved
slowly from one mirror to the next.
" Do you like the way you look all chained up like this slut ?"
" Yes Sir." She lied.
" From now on, you will call me Master, this isn't getting too complicated
for you is it slut? "
" No Master." She answered quickly, but quietly. " It isn't getting too
complicated Master."
I held a pair of scissors in front of her face and watched as a look of
horror swept over her. She closed her eyes and I yelled at her to open
them. " You've pissed yourself slut. Your dress is drenched in your own
piss. It will have to be removed."
I reached down and slowly started to cut a split up the front of her
expensive evening dress. I stopped just above her crotch and looked up
at her. " Can you feel the scissors on your skin slut?"
" Yes Master." She answered anxiously, her eyes fixed on the sharp
blade. The cold steel stroked her stomach as I cut my way up
towards the top of her dress. When there was only two or three inches
to go I stopped. Yvette squealed as I ripped her dress open.
I ran the scissors over her black lace bra and flicked her nipples with the
the pointy tip of the closed blades." Are you cold Yvette ?" I asked, with a
huge smile on my face.
" No Master. " She said, embarrassed at the way her body had reacted.
Yvette should have been getting used to the way her body responded to
the things I did to her. She didn't want to enjoy the things I did to her, but
the mind and the body function separately. Yvette had been engaged in a
series of small battles inside her; battles between her mind and her
body; her body had won more often than her mind.
I cut the straps on her dress and we watched it fall to the floor. Yvette
bit her lip and closed her eyes as I slid one blade of the scissors under
her bra between her tits.
" Look at the scissors slut." She forced herself to look down as I cut
her bra open and her tits spilled out in front of me. She watched
as I ran the scissors over her naked tits and flicked her stiff nipples with
the cold steel tip.
Her bra hung on her body from the straps over her shoulders and I slid
the scissors under each of them in turn and her bra fell to the floor
alongside her dress.
Yvette gasped when she felt the tip of the scissors run down over her
stomach towards her crotch and stop at the top of her black panties.
She swallowed hard as I slid one blade inside the crotch, held them there
for a while, moving them from side to side until the blade pierced the thin
material. Yvette stared at the blade that poked out between her legs
through the crotch of her panties.
I pulled the blade out of the little slit I'd made in the crotch and quickly
slid the scissors towards her left hip. I cut the narrow strip of silk that ran
around her hip, and then did the same on the right side. Her panties
should have fallen to the floor, but they were stuck to her wet cunt.
She screamed as I grabbed her panties and ripped them off her. She
stopped screaming when I shoved them in her mouth." I'll be back in a
minute slut." I whispered into her ear as I squeezed her nipples hard with
my fingers.
She was looking at herself in the mirrors when I opened the door and
walked back in a few minutes later. Her head spun towards me and she
whimpered loudly when she saw the cane in my hand.
" You do like the way you look. Don't you slut." I stood behind her and
made the cane whistle through the air as close to her as I could without
hitting her; but her body flinched each time as if it had struck her.
I rested the cane on her shoulder and then ran it slowly over her back
and arse and down her legs and then up the inside of her thighs. I told
her to turn around and tapped her softly on her legs as she did.
Her face was flushed and her eyes had a glazed look as she watched me
run the cane over her tits and flick her nipples. I told her to open her legs
wider and she moaned softly as I rubbed her cunt with the cane.
" Do you like that slut? Do you like me rubbing your cunt with the cane
?"
She couldn't speak with her panties in her mouth, but her eyes answered
for her.
She moaned again when I moved the cane away from her cunt. I ran it up
the inside of her legs and flicked it gently from side to side. The room
was filled with the sound of the cane gently slapping against her thighs.
" Open your legs wider." I said, as I moved the cane higher and flicked
it harder against the soft skin of the inside of her thighs. Then I flicked
the end of the cane gently against her cunt, she moaned loudly; she
moaned again and threw her head back as the cane slapped against her
clit.
" Turn around slut." I said, as I hit her cunt again. Yvette spun around
and I held the cane against her arse and told her to look in the mirrors
and watch me whip her. She saw me lift the cane high above my head
and heard it whistle through the air. She screamed as it left it's mark on
her arse.
" No! Please don't Master " She whimpered as she watched me lift the
cane into the air again. Her voice was muffled by her panties I had
shoved in her mouth but they didn't muffle the scream she let out as I hit
her again.
She screamed and her body lurched forward each time the cane whistled
through the air and slapped loudly against her body. She spat her
panties out of her mouth and started begging me to stop hitting her with
the cane. She begged me to fuck her instead; to do anything but hit her
with the cane. She watched in horror as I lifted the cane into the air
again.
" Please." She pleaded. " I'll do whatever you want Master, you can fuck
me up the arse...."
" I don't want to fuck you up the arse Yvette." I said, as I brought the
cane down across her arse again, she let out a pitiful whimpering sound.
" I'll suck you off and lick your arsehole....please.....let me lick your
arsehole for you Master......." She was almost hysterical.
She couldn't take the cane, not many women can. She'd kept her
composure pretty well up until now but the bite of the cane had taken
away any semblance of composure she had left.
" Alright Yvette." I said, as I turned her to face me.
" Thank you Master." She panted, as a sense of relief engulfed her. I
started rubbing her cunt with the cane again and she looked up at me.
" Oh yes Master, do that, rub my cunt with the cane. You make me wet
when you do that. You make my big cunt wet when you do that."
I looked at the trail of moister her cunt was leaving on the cane and
smiled at her. " Do you like it when I rub your cunt like this Yvette ?"
" Yes Master." She moaned. " I love it when you rub my cunt with the
cane."
" Is your cunt wet ?"
" Oh God Yes. I'm so fucking wet."
" You liked pissing yourself in front of all those people, didn't you slut?"
" Yes Master." She panted. " I loved it. I loved pissing myself like that. It's
such a dirty disgusting thing to do. But I loved it Master. I loved pissing
myself like that. Sluts like me love doing disgusting things like that."
I rubbed her cunt with the cane while she spoke, her breathing was
getting heavier. She had that look in her eyes. " Are you going to cum for
me slut?"
" Oh God Yes Master." She groaned. " Rub my wet cunt with the cane
and make me cum. Fuck me with the cane and make me cum for you
Master." She was moaning and swearing and humping herself against
the cane.
" Oh Fuck Yes. Rub my big wet cunt with the cane and make me cum for
you. Rub my dirty cunt and I'll cum for you...I'll cum ..." I dropped the
cane onto the floor.
.
" Please don't stop Master." Yvette cried out " Oh Fuck you can't stop
now..." I turned and started to walk out of the room as Yvette begged me
not to. It would be a while before she realised it, but she was humiliating
and degrading herself much more than anything I had done to her had.
I stopped and looked at her, her face and eyes were on fire. " Please
don't stop now Master." She begged me.
I picked up the cane and held it against her cunt and she started sliding
herself along it. " Fuck the slut with the cane." She screamed out. " Rub
the slut's wet cunt with the cane."
" Look at yourself in the mirrors Yvette." She groaned loudly when she
saw herself in the mirrors; saw herself with her arms bound above her
head; saw herself rubbing her wet cunt on the cane. Yvette liked what
she saw in the mirrors." Watch yourself cum Yvette."
" Oh Fuck Yes." She moaned. " Rub my wet cunt with the cane Master.
Make me cum. I want to watch myself cum. Faster...Please do it
faster...."
I dropped the cane onto the floor again and moved close to her and
reached up to untie her right hand.
" Please don't stop Master.....Not again. Please......" She looked up and
saw me untie her hand and buried her fingers between her legs as soon
as her hand was free from the strap.
" I can do whatever I want Yvette."
" Oh fuck Yes. You can do whatever you want to me." She panted as she
rubbed herself.
" I can throw you onto the floor and fuck you if I want to Yvette."
" Please do it Master. Throw me on the floor and fuck me." She slid a
finger inside herself. " Throw the slut on the floor and fuck her."
" I can bend you over and fuck you up your tight little arsehole if I want
to." Yvette moaned loudly. " Yes my arse hole. Stick your cock up my arse
hole." Her hand was moving faster between her legs.
" Do you like playing with yourself Yvette ?"
" You know I do." She panted, as she fucked herself with her fingers.
I hit her hand with the cane and she squealed and pulled it away from
her cunt. I started rubbing her cunt with the cane again. Then I held it up
to her mouth and said: " You know what to do Yvette."
She licked her juices off it and sucked on it like it was a cock about to
explode in her mouth. Her hand had snuck down between her legs and
she was rubbing her clit. I hit her hard on her wrist with the cane and she
grunted and pulled her hand away.
" Please Master...." She whimpered.
" Do you want me to fuck you with the cane Yvette?"
" You fucking know I do !" She panted angrily as her hand grabbed at
her wet cunt again. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from
where she wanted it, just a few inches away from where she wanted it.
" You Bastard !" She screamed at me her hips thrusting herself at her
hand. " You sick fucking bastard." I thought that was a bit harsh. But she
wasn't herself at the moment. Or was she? Was this the real Yvette?
" Do you want to cum Yvette ? Do you need to cum ?"
" I have to cum....Please I'm nearly there....Make me cum....please..."
I slid the cane between the wet folds of flesh between her legs and
Yvette groaned and threw her head back. " Oh thank you Master." She
cried out. " On my clit Master...Rub it on my clit..." She humped herself
against the cane as it slid between her swollen lips trying desperately to
make it run across her throbbing clit. "Faster.... Please.... Do it faster and
I'll cum for you...." Her body slumped and her eyes burned into mine.
" You Fucking Bastard !" She screamed at me. I'd dropped the cane
onto the floor again. She buried her fingers in her cunt again as I untied
her other hand. She fell to her knees and grabbed herself between her
legs and shoved two fingers up herself.
" You Bastard!" She screamed looking up at me." You Fucking Bastard ! "
I picked up the cane and hit her across the arse and she grunted but
she kept fucking herself with her fingers. I hit her hands and she pulled
them away for a second and then buried her fingers in her wet cunt
again and fell onto her back on the floor.
" That's it you bastard. Whip me while I play with myself. Whip me while
I make myself cum." She opened her legs wide, spread her cunt lips
and rubbed her swollen clit. I dropped the cane across Yvette's stomach,
she grabbed it and started hitting herself between her legs with it.
" Watch me you bastard...Watch me whip my cunt.....Watch me cum..."
Yvette writhed on the floor and grunted and swore at me as she came.
I've never heard a women make the sorts of noises Yvette made as
her orgasm swept through her body. She let out one last long grunting
sound and her body went limp.
The passion that had taken control of her, the unrestrained lust that
had consumed her was gone now, subdued by the ecstasy of the orgasm
that had engulfed her mind and body. She rolled over onto her side so I
couldn't see her face. Shame was the emotion that owned her now.
" Can I go now ?" She asked, in a pathetic whimpering voice.
" Have you finished Yvette ? Do you want to fuck yourself with the paddle
before you go ?"
" You fucking bastard." She muttered softly.
I stood over her, looking down at her, but she couldn't look at me. She
caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors and buried her face in
her hands. She couldn't look at herself either. She started to cry quietly;
she didn't want me to hear her cry.
" Can I go now ?" She looked and sounded pitiful, pathetic. I loved it.
She felt totally humiliated and she'd done it to herself.
" Yes Yvette, you can go now. I take it you don't want your last receipt. I
take it you want to visit me again."
She had to submit to me again for this to end. " Is there anything you
would like to use me for Master." She asked softly, wiping away her tears
as she rolled over to face me. " Is there anything I can do to please you
Master?"
" A shower with some disinfectant-soap would be a good start." Her eyes
had a hint of defiance in them for an instant, but the defiance ebbed
away as a sense of utter humiliation took hold of her again. But I didn't
want her to have a shower. I wanted her to stay the way she was.
I made her get on her knees and suck me off, but she wasn't to touch
me, I didn't want the dirty slut to touch me. I made her promise that the
dirty slut wouldn't touch me.
I came in her mouth, and as I had instructed her to, she spat it into her
hands and rubbed it all over her face. She didn't even flinch when I told
her I needed to piss. She just looked up at me and said: " Yes Master, let
me help you," and opened her mouth. She spilt most of it, but swallowed
some of it; and I sprayed the last of it in her hair.
She dragged herself to her feet and followed me over to the platform.
She stood there submissively as I tattooed the last red mark on her arse;
her final receipt. I wore rubber gloves and a plastic disposable-gown
when I did it. " Can I go now please?" She asked again when I was
finished.
" Yes Yvette. You can go now." I answered in a warm friendly voice.
She staggered over to where her clothes had fallen onto the floor. I
watched the expression on her face as she looked down at her clothes.
The pain and humiliation that had overwhelmed her was now itself
overwhelmed with a new sense of panic.
" I....I've got nothing to wear." She said, as she knelt on the floor and
rummaged through the remnants of her beautiful dress and lingerie.
" Please don't make me go outside naked....Please you can't....."
" I can do whatever I like Yvette, you said that yourself a while ago,
remember ? It was when you were asking me to rub your cunt with the
cane. You're big wet slut-cunt I think were the words you used. And
you're not naked, you've still got your shoes on."
" You fucking bastard." She spat at me,as she rummaged through the
pile of material on the floor. She picked up what was once her beautiful
black evening gown and tied the straps together that I'd cut, and pulled
the dress on over her head. It hung open in the middle where I had cut it
leaving the front of her body exposed.
" Your cunt still looks wet Yvette." I said, staring at her cunt through the
gap in her dress as I passed her an envelope with all her photos and
negatives.
" Are these all the pictures ?" She said angrily stuffing them into her
purse. " Are these all of them, all the copies, all the negatives...."
" Yes Yvette, you've got all the pictures and all the negatives. I gave you
my word on that."
She looked me up and down, her eyes burning with hatred. Then she
tucked her purse under her arm, clutched at her dress in front of her
crotch and tits, trying to pull the material together enough to cover her
body. She shot me one last hateful glare and headed for the door;
and then she was gone. I could see her in my mind, walking up the
crowded street, clutching at her dress, her body covered in cum and
piss; both hers and mine.
I'd enjoyed my time with Yvette, as brief as it was. She was a very
interesting woman. She'd submitted herself to me, done all manner of
disgusting things for me; she'd done whatever it took to stop me from
making those photos available for public viewing; and the photos weren't
even of her; the woman in the photos was her sister; her twin sister,
Angella.
I hadn't picked it up at first, but the woman in the photos had a small
birthmark on her right hip, Yvette didn't. Then when I asked around and
found out about Angella, it all made sense.
I'm sure Yvette thought she was being very noble, surrendering her
dignity to protect her sister. I thought she was being fucking stupid. But
it was her decision, and she would have to live with it.
I'd enjoyed playing with Yvette, now I looked forward to playing with
Angella.
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The End.
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