Message-ID: <36914asstr$1024661403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: PJcocoa@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <74.1ea46e9b.2a444e6c@aol.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 05:39:56 EDT Subject: {ASSM} [Rom Fest] Chocolate Sunday (Version 2) {Gary Jordan} Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 08:10:03 -0400 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, kelly Chocolate Sunday By Gary Jordan Version 2 Copyright 2001, 2002 This is the second of four *versions* of this story, each with different endings. Jeanine said, "One of us needs to go to the store." I loved to hear my chocoholic say the code words for our little experiments in light, consensual bondage. Some of our most exciting sex was during these games. She said it on Monday morning, an hour before the alarm was supposed to wake me for work. She won the coin toss, ending a two win streak for me. I was bound as usual to the four posts of our bed, and she rode my face into the sunrise. There wasn't time to reciprocate that morning. I went to work both tired and frustrated. Work turned into a double shift; I went to bed exhausted. She said it Wednesday, after dinner. Again, she won the toss. Again, I was bound to the posts of our brass bed and blindfolded. Again, her thighs carressed my ears until she could take no more. While she caught her breath, the phone began to ring. When the answering machine picked up, my brother's voice begged me to pick up, if I were there. Jeanine released me, and I spent ninety minutes assuring him that the world had not ended; he would find another job; all would turn out well. When my brother at last believed in himself as I did, and freed me from the bondage of the telephone, Jeanine was asleep. She said it Friday when I walked in the door. The gods of chance favored her once more, and once more I donned the blindfold and wrist and ankle cuffs. This time, mindful of the fact that she had been on the receiving end of all the attention this past week, she offered to change places with me. Tempted as I was to take her up on her offer, I assured her that I was a good sport, and was certain that she would take good care of her slave, as she had always done in the past - we had plenty of time, didn't we? Surely there would be no interruptions tonight. As usual when Jeanine won the toss, we started with her straddling my head. The only anomoly was that this time, she faced the foot of the bed. I became aroused just thinking of the possibilities. I began my oral ablutions with a little more vigor than usual in anticipation of Jeanine returning the favor. I could feel her hair caress me as she began to lower her head. Her back arched as she approached her first climax, drawing her head further away from me. It only sweetened the anticipation. As she cried out in ecstacy, I redoubled my efforts, wanting to please her as I hoped to be pleased. Her cries turned into shrieks - this night held promise. When I felt her squirming to remove her over-sensitive clit away from my tongue, I caught her fleshy lips in my teeth and continued to tease. If I would be satisfied - and her hair once again tickling my cock suggested I would - I would make sure she was compensated for it. She breathed great gulps of air, and I felt her exhalations hot upon my straining cock. Before she could completely recover, I sucked again on her clit, worrying it with my tongue. Jeanine cried out her pleasure in a piercing scream, which trailed off as she ran out of breath. Her body slumped over mine. Had she fainted? If so, her faint was awkward, whatever it might have done for my ego. My face was covered by her moist, delicious pussy and only by tilting my head as far back as our bodies allowed could I gulp air through my nose, and a pillow interfered with that. The blindfold was slightly dislodged but I could not cry out, I was most effectively gagged. A silk scarf would never achieve what Jeanine had. If the jiggling of my body would not rouse her, if my muted calls could not reach her ears, at least I was in position to do the one thing that never failed to awaken my sleeping beauty. I strained my neck for one more breath through my nose, then for the fourth time applied lips and tongue and gentle teeth. Even in her seemingly unconscious state, Jeanine began to respond - by pushing herself more firmly onto my face. It was becoming a race - would Jeanine awaken before I passed out? I felt a thrill of fear. If Jeanine did not awaken, there was a real possibility that I could be smothered. Viewed abstractly, and through the shield of time, I would someday appreciate the humor of the situation. "There are worse ways to go," I could joke. It would someday be a hilarious memory - "Remember the time you almost loved me to death?", a jibe - "I smothered you with kisses, and you smothered me with...", a ribald tale to share with intimate friends. That would be then, but this was now. My vision was becoming narrow, my lungs were on fire. The angel of death winked at me with one brown eye. I flailed, but the cords held my arms and legs immobile. Tears streamed from my eyes. Even as I felt my own consciousness slipping away, I did the one last thing that could possibly rouse my quivering Jeanine from her rapturous state. I bit her. I don't know how hard I bit her. I do know where. And Jeanine did release me from that glorious death grip. She rose up on her toes, one shoulder in the pit of my stomach (which did nothing for my ability to inhale) and wailed - then fell to one side clutching one hand to her breast and the other to her crotch, twitching. Her eyes were rolled up in their sockets. The wail trailed off into moans, but the twitching continued, and I could see when I raised my head enough that her fingers pinched her nipple and thrust into her pussy in time to the twitches. The twitching finally stopped. Jeanine was not now conscious, if in fact I had awakened her at all. Her sleeping form, with a rictus of a smile, mocked my every attempt to wake her by calling her name. I was no freer now than in the minutes before, but I was exhausted, and resigned to my fate. When I at last caught up on my oxygen deficit, I too slept. Days passed. Jeanine called in sick on Monday, claiming a "female problem." They did not ask for a doctor's note, which fact saved my life, as she had sworn my death if she had to explain her disability to anyone, including a doctor. I thought she was joking, but I'm relieved the issue was not put to the test. From Saturday through Monday, Jeanine walked... funny. Not funny ha- ha, but funny peculiar. (Well it was funny, but one ha-ha might have cost me my hu-ha, so to speak.) Even when she returned to work on Tuesday, she winced when she walked, and mincing steps were all she could manage. I did not press for my conjugal rights. Although this was the longest stretch of abstinence since we were together, discretion was the better part of apology. (Discretion and chocolate. Lots of chocolate.) We talked about it, on Saturday after, as Jeanine released my bindings. She let me know that this would not be a joking matter no matter how many years went by, that any jibe on my part would be met by a sudden frost, and that if she caught even a hint of repetition to any acquaintence, I would become intimate with the couch. And no amount of chocolate would make her change her mind. Sunday arrived, over a week later. Jeanine took breakfast with me as she always had, and always does, and for a wonder, seemed like herself again. I served her favorite chocolate chip crepes. After I completed the dishes, we sat together on the sofa and watched a movie from the VCR. I placed my arm around her shoulder; she leaned her head upon my chest. It was a very pleasant couple of hours. Jeanine said, "One of us needs to go to the store." I could feel my heart pounding, as well it might. Lust and fear are equally effective at stimulating the adrenal glands, and I had both working overtime. We turned off the television and adjourned to the bedroom, my arm around her shoulder, hers around my waist. I had made a single preparation for the day when Jeanine might utter those words again. In my pocket I carried a two-headed coin. At the foot of the bed, I fished out that coin, cocked it on my thumb, and tossed it to spin and land on the spread. I called... "Heads!" Jeanine said. I shut my mouth and looked with her at the coin, then snatched it up and returned it to my pocket. It was going into the next vending machine I patronized, and good riddance. The goddesses of chance have strange senses of humor. The undressing was a solemn ceremony, with lots of eye contact and few smiles. I suffered the binding of my limbs to the four posts of the bed in quiet dignity. I wasn't sure I liked this game any more. Jeanine frowned, then released the cords binding my legs. She propped pillows behind my back and head, so that I was reclined, slightly. She used a single cord to bind my ankles together, and another to stretch them to the footrail. Sex slaves are not supposed to speak unless spoken to - it was one of our rules. But Jeanine could tell I was bursting to ask why the change. she always tied me down the same way. She sat next to me, and placed a hand over my mouth. That meant she expected me to try to interrupt, and didn't want me to. "Nine days ago," she began softly, "you gave me the most intense orgasms I have ever had, or hope to have. And I nearly killed you in return." If she hadn't placed her hand over my mouth, I would have protested - but she was right (about almost killing me - we'd see about the other.) "I've come to like our little games, although I usually like it just a little better when you win the coin toss." Her hand pulled my head so that our eyes locked. "Fairly. Lose the double-headed coin," she added, sternly. I slammed my eyes shut and nodded vigorously. Cheaters never prosper. I don't know how she knew, but I shouldn't have been surprised. She always knows. "The thing is, I love regular sex with you, but when I get to the point where I'm too sensitive to continue, and I ask you to stop, or change around, you do - and its good, and I love you for it. "But when I'm your slave and you get me to that point, you just keep on going - usually, it's even better. I can't ask for that. I really am too sensitive. The trip can be agony for a few moments, but I love it when you take me there." She swallowed. "When it's my turn to play, I don't usually go there. When I reach my limit, I change on my own. I do something else until I'm ready again. Last time, you got me there so fast and kept going while I was out of control, that it might as well have been me in the ropes." Her hand moved from my mouth to my chest, her fingernails toying with the sparse hair. "I'm afraid, though." She looked at me, pausing, and I took that as permission to speak. I asked, "Afraid of what?" She looked down, unwilling to meet my gaze. She whispered, "Pain." "I'm so sorry, I didn't..." Again with the hand. I kissed her palm and shut up. She had more to say. She gathered herself to say it. "You bit me and it hurt." She shuddered, remembering, her eyes closing at the recollection. "It hurt so bad. That pain ruined the most incredible orgasm of the night. And it wouldn't stop. Every time I thought it was over I'd try to get the pleasure back, and I'd feel that pain again. Over and over until I thought I would die." Tears leaked onto her arm. "I couldn't even guess how many spasms I had until I passed out, and I don't think they stopped then. I had aftershocks all weekend." To say I was shocked would be like saying it's warm on the sun. I didn't know what to say. I'm not into pain, giving or receiving. Jeanine had been, if anything, more reticent about pain than me. Now I was scared. "What do you want to do?" She pulled herself together. "First, I'm going to toss another coin. A real one this time, and you'll call it in the air. If it's still my turn after that, I'm going to do the same thing I did that night, except this time, you're going to be gentle and keep your teeth to yourself, and I'm going to suck your dick like a Hoover." Well, that was plain enough talk. I grinned like an idiot. "If you win, you're going to do whatever you want, for as long as you want, except there will be no gag, so I can say a safe word any time I want." Her eyes were blazing. "And if you stuff my mouth with cock and I want to say the safe word, you'll find out first hand how that bite felt." "No gag." No problem. "No gag. This time. If the pain comes back I want - no, I need to be able to tell you to stop, and trust that you will." She got off the bed and went to her purse. She pulled out a quarter and held it up for my inspection - a standard quarter with George on one side and the bird on the other. She placed herself where the coin would land so that we could both see the result, then flicked it into the air. At the top of the arc I quietly said, "Tails." The coin fell to the bed and bounced only once. We looked at it together. Then we looked at each other. From the start, this was not like Friday night, except for the blindfold. Instead of wrapping her legs around my ears, Jeanine bent over and wrapped her lips around me elsewhere. It was unexpected and I went from three-quarters erect to rampant in less time than it takes to say it. Like a Hoover, damn. Jeanine used a hand on the shaft and lavished attention on the head with lips, tongue and a hint of teeth. I knew I wouldn't last long, but that's never been an issue for this type of play. And Jeanine never attempted to deep-throat me, after the results of her only attempt. I didn't need it and never missed it. I had serious doubts about the claims of those who swear by it. And then she did, nearly. I still had my doubts, but it was undeniably erotic that she would make the attempt. I cleared my throat to let her know I was close. She continued to suck, though shallower, and her hand returned to jack the shaft. Her other hand on my pelvis restricted my bucking attempts as much as the bindings did as I came, hard. It felt like quarts, though I knew it was at best a couple of teaspoons all told. Jeanine continued to suck and slurp through the entire ejaculation, even though she'd confided that it was a taste she could do without. When she'd said that (I hadn't been at all surprised), I had told her if I had three wishes, I'd wish for a long healthy life for myself and those I loved, just enough material wealth not to distract from loving and living, "and, of course, chocolate-flavored semen." I think she's repeated that one to all her friends, most of her acquaintences, and probably a few strangers. Well, I was feeling relaxed and happy again, and eager to do the same for Jeanine. I felt her weight leave the bed, and I listened for clues to what she might be doing. After what seemed an awfully long time, I realized that she was leaning on the right side of the bed. My right arm was freed, then pulled back in place. I could tell from the feel that Jeanine had replaced the binding straps with the old Bungee cord we used to use. There was some tension, but plenty of give. She did the same on my left. "I started hating those things, because they felt like they were pullig me apart,"she whispered in my ear. "But your arms are longer, there's less tension, and in case of a smothering accident, you should be able to free yourself." So far, everything Jeanine had done had been for me. I was more eager than ever to pay her back. At last I felt her legs on either side of me. With the slight angle she had me reclining in, it was a little more awkward for her to place herself as she had that Friday, but she managed. As soon as I smelled her near, I reached out my tongue to lick. Handicapped by the blindfold, the first flesh I touched was Jeanine's clit. She let out a "whoof" and jerked forward. "Hey! Not so eager on the beaver, back there! Remember, I said 'gentle' this time." Her stern admonition was spoiled by a giggle. "Sorry, Mistress," I called back. I stopped straining forward, pulled back a bit, and waited, my lips pursed as for a chaste kiss, for her to come to me. She eased back until she was kissing me back, although her lips were at a ninety degree angle from mine. I kissed her and made the lip smacking noise, "Mwah!" She jumped just the least bit and giggled again. She took my not- quite-limp cock in one hand and said, "I don't think you're taking me seriously." She squeezed a bit. "Now get serious or else." I got serious. Well, seriously playful. I once again applied lips and tongue to the task set before me, while Jeanine toyed with the task at hand. Jeanine made appropriate noises to show her approval, and unconsciously pushed back a little more to take advantage of the pleasure of pressure. Meanwhile, I managed to grasp the Bungee and pull the hook from the D- ring. To prevent the tell-tale 'thwack' of a freed cord, I set the hook on the vertical brass bars in the head board. When both hands were free, I grasped the bars to prevent giving away that fact. Jeanine was slowly approaching her first climax, and I eased her into it as gently as I could. Her moan was a soft, long musical note, and I shifted to licking her lips and channel as I knew she would prefer while this sensitive. When her breathing slowed a bit, I once more ventured an occasional lick to the hood of her clit, encouraging the bud to come out to play. And then, like that Friday, I sped my efforts abruptly, with the same results. While she was in the rapture of the second coming, I licked, lipped, and sucked, tonguing her to her limit and as far past as I could achieve before she could tell me to stop or pull away. She fainted again. Well, maybe not fainted, but she was no longer responsive in a conscious manner. I removed my blindfold. I learned the purpose of the slight incline, as her sweaty body tended to slide slightly away from my head instead of onto my face. But I had two free hands, and pulled her back into position for the final event. I did my absolute best to drag that last orgasm from her quivering cunt. And because my arms and hands were free to reposition her as I wished, I managed to breathe while doing it. This time, when her body began to twitch, there were no teethmarks and no pain to distract her from the pleasure. The smile on her limp, twitching form was genuine. I eased her aside and freed my legs, put all our toys in the laundry basket, and gently eased her around to her normal sleeping position. Every now and then, she would twitch again, accompanied by a soft "oohhh." At least if she had trouble walking at work tomorrow, she'd have a smile instead of a wince. I wrapped an arm around her and allowed myself to fall asleep. An End <1st attachment begin> <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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