Questing4Aldonza
Posts: 58
Joined: 7/14/2004
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Normally, I would have reversed the genders, but this is sort of a special case.
No Bother At All
for p.v. 
He's sitting in his high-backed chair by the window, listening to the patter of the rain against the glass as he reads. The doorbell rings, tearing him away from his quiet evening. He checks the clock, frowning, and sets his book aside.
His surprise at seeing her standing on his doorstep is twofold; her condition as much, if no more startling than the very fact that she is there. She stares up at him from underneath a bedraggled tangle of long red hair. Soaked to the skin, her shivering is almost as much from the worries that gnaw at her as from the chill.
"I.. I'm sorry," she stammers. "I.. I hope I'm not bothering you… it's just…"
He suddenly has an image in his mind of her standing there - who knows for how long? - tormenting herself over whether or not to ring the bell, getting wetter and colder by the second; cursing herself for being so needy… and at the same time so afraid…
He looks down at her and smiles wearily. Reaching out his hand, he slides it past the sodden curtain of her hair and gently cups the side of her face.
"Get in here," he says.
She shuffles across the threshold, sniffling and shuddering. He shakes his head and sighs.
"I think the first order of business," he says in his deep, soothing voice, "is to get you warmed up!"
*
A few minutes later, her pale, beautiful body is laid out upon his bed. He's tied her hands to the headboard as he goes to put her clothes in the drier. Her skin is still awash in gooseflesh, but simply being able to hear his voice, smell his scent, makes her feel better. So happy, was she, to have not been turned away or given a stern lecture about boundaries, that she even took the ball gag, the big one she hates so much that makes her jaws ache after just a few minutes, without any of her usual complaining or recalcitrance.
He stands in the doorway, watching her for a moment, marveling at the way her chest rises and falls with each soft breath. He steps forward, the candle flickering in his hand.
She hears him coming and turns her head. Her eager expression dissipates quickly at the sight of the candle. It's large and thick and as red as the rubber ball distending her pretty little mouth. She makes a plaintive little squeaking sound and looks up at him, eyes wide and dewy.
He merely smiles and carefully tips it over her left breast.
Her squeaks become squeals as the molten wax spatters her tender areola. She kicks her legs and tries to twist away from him. He grabs her thigh with his free hand, broad and powerful, and pulls her back, adding a firm, cautionary squeeze.
She trembles, whimpering, air whistling loudly through her nose, but with a visible force of will she lays still. Maintaining a slow, determined pace he begins to paint her breasts. She whimpers and cries through the gag, sometimes arching her back when hits a particularly sensitive spot. She shuts her eyes and moans. He's too good at this game! He knows just the right distance to get maximum heat with minimum risk of damage, and soon her entire chest is throbbing.
"Spread your legs," he says softly. She whines.
"Spread them."
As if trying to pry them apart from invisible ropes, she obeys. He lets a crimson stream splash down onto her inner thigh and she squeals shrilly. He smiles and pours a matching line across the other side.
She begins to toss her head from side to side, moaning, terrified at the thought that he might go so far as to splash her… there!
But he doesn't. He snuffs out the flame and puts the candle aside. Smiling, he seizes hold of her legs and gently rolls her over onto her belly.
Only dimly aware of what is going on, she moans dreamily. She can feel the blood pulsing through her seared flesh with each beat of her heart.
She quickly returns back to her senses, however, when he wriggles the first finger - liberally coated in baby oil - inside her anus. She feels him squirming and probing inside of her, working to loosen up her muscles and she sighs. Then, at long last, he penetrates her. She bites down hard on the gag, whining loudly through her nose. No matter how many times he does it, that initial moment of being filled, of being stretched, always hurts so much.
Oh, how she craves the pain, though!
He begins to thrust in an easy, unhurried manner, savoring her tightness, her heat. She grunts in frustration, wishing her would fuck her harder. She begins to rock her hips back against him, urging him to speed things up, but he merely laughs under his breath and grabs the backs of her thighs, just below the swell of her bottom, and forces her to go at his pace.
Inevitably, though, his passion grows more and more and his thrusts quicken. Soon their flesh is slapping and his grunts are almost in perfect harmony with her gasps. He reaches his hand around her thigh and fumbles past her swollen and dripping folds. His fingers find what they're seeking, and her cries turn husky and urgent.
"You are such a dirty little slut! You love to take it up the ass, don't you? Don't you?" he snarls, fingers teasing relentlessly as he slams against her. She makes a loud, mangled cry, unable to shout Yes! Yes!
"Prove it," he barks. "Cum for me, slut! Cum for me now!"
She does and not even the gag can stifle the long low sound that erupts from deep within her. Her body convulses around him, and with a groan, he makes one last deep thrust and climaxes. He holds himself fast inside her until the last of the little twitches end.
Her gently pushes her away and she flops over onto her side, drenched and trembling for the second time that night. As she lies there, breathing hard, she is dimly aware of her chaffed wrists and straining jaw. Still, she is content.
After a moment of lying senseless, she hears running water from his bathroom as he cleans himself. She sighs, no tension left anywhere in her.
He steps back into the room, and to her surprise, starts to roll he back onto her stomach. Her eyes pop open and she grunts, a little impressed, but already spent.
He merely smiles and begins working the plug up inside of her. She screeches in pain, but hasn't the strength to fight him.
Straightening up, he gives her bum a smack. She whips her head around, glaring at him with a wounded look in her eyes.
"Sorry, Darlin', I still have a book to finish," he chuckles. "But I'll be back to let you go in an hour or so."
He walks to the door and turns out the light. Turning back, he stands in the faint glow streaming through the threshold.
"Oh, and you were no bother at all!"
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