Message-ID: <22327asstr$948150604@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: daftwader@aol.com (DaftWader) X-Original-Message-ID: <20000117100003.25292.00000122@nso-cr.aol.com> Subject: {ASSM} Such a treat (MM/F BDSM) Date: Mon, 17 Jan 2000 18:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, gill-bates Please accept this first submission Enjoy, give credit to my daft wading in the mire of a strange subconsciousness and try not to sluice off from these brackish waters to other altered uncredited versions of this. Comments to daftwader@aol.com Such a treat "It is such a treat, this fantasy come true," you thought as you sat there between the two men who talked sotto voce across you, planning an impossible future, while you watched the marvellous display on the dance floor. You did not mind the distraction, finding their earnest voices a reassuring presence as you let your mind float off into hazy imagination. You could float down onto that dance floor yourself, exhibiting yourself to the gaze of the delighted patrons, a star for the show, dancing for their entertainment and for his special pleasure. Your pirouettes would cause your skirts to float up high round your waist revealing the high cut panties to the gaze of the beau monde of the province. The count's lady exposed for their pleasure. Would they turn away respectfully or would their gaze become fixated on the swirl of your skirt, watching it flow like silken detritus on the burgeoning wave of the incoming tide? You shook your head, bringing yourself back to reality, reaching down to the reassuringly cool touch of the broach pinned just above your breast. Your Master had presented it to your with earlier that evening, pinning it carefully onto your low cut decollete gown, another symbol of his ownership of your precious body. The little jewel as the centre glittered in the lights reflected from the dance floor, just as your own bright eyes glistened in the candlelight. The two pearls on either side absorbed the light, as did your pale cheeks. A waiter approached to take your order. You lowered your head and looked down to the place setting, waiting for your Master to order for you. You looked up at him gratefully, thinking how delicious the dishes sounded with his rounded vowels. The thought of those exotic flavours in your mouth made you salivate. So did the tight backside of the young waiter as he slid away from their table, bowing almost gracefully and turning towards the kitchens to fetch their repast. Your Master laughed, following your eyes and took your face in his hand, cupping your chin and lifting your face up to look directly into his twinkling green eyes. "You are such a naughty girl, aren't you," he chided you, slapping your face gently and bringing a little colour to your cheekbone. You blushed and suppressed a giggle, but did not deny his accusation, knowing that he might want to spank you later for your misdemeanours. The Spanish dancers on the floor were reaching a climactic finish as their food arrived. The stamping of their feet, drummed into your mind, like a hundred messages in the night. Your heartbeat accelerated with the beat of the music and with the sight of your special training plate, filled with wonderfully fragrant meats. You glanced towards your Master and he nodded, permitting you to slide from your chair and kneel by his side. You looked up at him as he was presented with the plate. He leant down and tasted the food with his fork, before nodding his approval. The young waiter took it to a side table, where he cut the food up, obviating any need for you to use cutlery. You were after all so special to your owner. You smiled up at him, thinking of the special care that he had taken to prepare this night for you, this night of celebration as your return to the chateau. The young man brought the plate over to you and bent to place it on the floor besides you. You looked up at him, your eyes opened wide, amused to see the confusion in his eyes, realising that this must be his first service for your Master. You almost purred to yourself at the thought that this man-boy, this youth was fresh and ready for you to enjoy later. You wished that you were permitted to reach up to test the hardness of his youthful prowess. You wondered whether one so young would be able to fill you and to give you the just deserts that awaited you. You restrained yourself though, caught in the web of imaginings that your Master weaved around your head, knowing that there would be pleasure in time - of that you were sure. "Eat my dear," your Master commanded insistently. "Do not wait for us." You could feel the other man smiling as your confidante and Master pressed your head towards your plate, requiring you to bend down to seize the little pieces of meat in your mouth. You chewed at the tender flesh, nibbling delicately, letting the aroma and then the spicy taste warm your body through. You could feel the smile broaden as the plum of your bottom spread under the thin silk gown. Then, as your Master reached down to lift the skirt up round your waist so that your bottom was exposed, an appreciative chuckle reached your alert ears. You knew that you were revealed bar the little protection afforded by your rather immodest high cut panties. You trembled, knowing the excitation that you must be causing and at the feel of your Master's hand on your buttock, squeezing and pinching the flesh gently, before a palm slapped your bottom sharply in a sudden gesture that almost made your hiccup. You yelped, but looked down, knowing that your Master knew exactly what was best for your. You realised that your saucy wriggling, your wretched trembling, was distracting the gentlemen from their meal. You looked over your shoulder and looked up at your Master, watching him enjoy the exquisite flavour of the rare meats that he had selected for you both. Then you returned to the plate, reaching down to flick another morsel onto your tongue, to savour it, even as you knew the gentleman with your Master was savouring your elevated hindquarters. "Pink meat is so much more flavoursome, when it has proper exposure," you heard your Master remark as fingers slipped under the elastic of your panties and you felt them being slowly lowered. He slipped them over the apex of your raised bottom, over your round thighs to your knees. He taped the back of your knee impatiently and you lifted first one leg and then the other obediently, allowing him to slide the garment further down, before leaving it at mid calf, where they rested, leaving an indentation in the receptive flesh just as it had done as they descended. The tight elastic gave you the sensation of light bondage, as if silken ropes had been twisted around your calves, binding you to his service. You knew that you were bound for pleasure, when his hands slid up your thigh. He stroked the flesh, occasionally squeezing and pinching, before reaching between the apex of your thighs to cup and caress your recently shaven mound. You shivered involuntarily as his fingers traced the moist slit of your sexuality, probing to the first knuckle and then withdrawing, before pressing inwards again. It felt exquisite. "She is quite receptive is she not?" the other man's voice interrupted your thought processes. "She is that," your master replied, letting his finger sink into your sticky centre and then withdrawing much to your disappointment, "Aren't you, my dear?" "Yes, Master," you whispered, turning your head fearfully to glance at him sitting with his legs to one side of his chair lifting his finger towards you. You opened your mouth and sucked at his fingers, tasting yourself on his fingers, your own slightly acrid juices mingling with the residue of the meats. He pushed his finger between your teeth, touching your tongue and pressing it to the base of your mouth as his finger hover millimetres away from the back of your throat. A little way forward and you would have to submit to that gagging sensation, but he resisted the impulse to demonstrate his control and your subservience. He knew you were his and had no need to play to the gallery like other less certain dominants. "You tenderise that warm flesh occasionally?" the other voice enquired, a rougher hand encroaching on your body and squeezing her, slightly cruelly so that you wanted to flinch away. "Her budding sassiness needs chastisement, but all flowers will spread for exploration, after the necessary preparation," came the soft spoken response, as a finger coated in your own saliva, corkscrewed its way gently into the pucker of your bottom, making you sigh with delighted pleasure. " Yes, she needs penetrating insights occasionally, just as she needs such a treat." cdaftwader 1/00 -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+