The
Dungeon I
On ecru
initialed paper the understanding was brutally clear … You’re to be blindfolded and waiting on your knees for your Master. I reread a couple
of times, my hands shaking with both fear of the unknown and the excitement of
being delivered to the brink of aching pleasure. Man, I was fucked!
Folding
the note in half perfectly seaming the edges, I wondered if I was biting off
more than I could chew. The fluttering in my stomach mounted to upchuck levels
as I picked up the Hermes silk scarf. I gentled it along my cheek before
breathing in his alpha scent. Him. My
eyes closed of their own accord, heart beating in concert with my pussy. My clit was charged and primed already with
my juices, the inner demonness
scratching the surface of my psyche, relentlessly thrashing against
confinement.
Twirling
around in a sexual dream-state, my eyes took in floor-to-ceiling windows, lush
drapes pulled back. Gasping heavily, I held my hand over my heart to keep the
fucker in there. Was he planning to take me in the open—voyeur delight? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Then
again this was about surrendering. A place my control had no say.
On the
left was a free-standing bar, his guitar leaning against it. Chrystal decanters lined the top.
Amber-colored courage called out to my parched throat, begging, needing
something to quell the tremors plaguing my body. I couldn’t. Could I? Or was that breaking the rules? I couldn’t
afford to piss him off, nor did I want to. I wanted to please him, to hand over
the keys to my soul for him to take up occupancy. I needed to take purchase of
the prime piece of real-estate—his heart.
Old
demons besieged me with their clever mind tricks, fighting their way to the
surface—sneering that I would lose the man I’d come to love because of my
deceitful heart. The mother of all motherfucking karma’s was going to bite my
ass—hard. I needed to lock these incessant nauseating thoughts where they
belonged—behind a door that had no moral key and slam it shut.
Looking
to the left, I saw the fire raging in the pastoral-styled fireplace. Above me,
the erotic portrait of Abel loomed. In one hand he was holding a set of handcuffs,
and in the other a red scarf—the exact red scarf I was now holding in my hand.
Perfect
spot! Unbuttoning my pants and blouse, letting them both pool at my feet, I
then took off my bra and panties. Flames licked my skin, helping to ease the goose
bumps stepping out all over my body. Double-knotting the scarf, I lowered myself
to my knees, thankful for the plush carpet. I sent a silent prayer of gratitude
upwards—even though God had no place here today. Today, I would be rejoicing,
reveling in and partaking of rituals practiced by heathens.
Tempering
my breathing, I thought to myself: Namaste.
But then the squeak of the door knob stopped all thought—all thinking—sending a
shiver down my spine. His innate
maleness seeped into my pores, cocooning my skin in his alpha scent—marking my
heart as his. Instantly, my body
recognized him. An unwilling groan escaped me as my nether regions clenched in
anticipation. He just chuckled.
~~~
"Very
good. I see you followed my directions flawlessly. I see that beautiful pussy’s
shaved bare for me. This pleases me, Gia. And you will see how much very
shortly. But, are you ready for your Master?
If I part your folds, will you be slick and hot for me?" His warm
breath tickled my ear.
My mouth
opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water, until I finally croaked
out, "Um, yes. I, um. I believe so, Abel.” Christ, why was I reduced to a stuttering
adolescent? He was fucking dangerous and hot, that was why! Steeling myself, I
needed to woman the fuck up and show him who I really was.
Palming
my chin he spoke gruffly. “Love, when we’re in this setting, I am your God,
bringer of pleasure and pain.” He released me, clearly awaiting my praises.
“Yes,
Sir. I understand perfectly,” I affirmed. My body chilled, knowing the moment
he stepped away. The ring of the crystal decanter signaled loudly in the air.
Rolling shudders had me clenching—hard. Moments ticked by at a snail’s pace,
and I wanted to rip my hair out, my frustration building as he took his time, leaving
me in this vulnerable position. He swallowed his drink. Padding back over in my
direction, he brought that delicious signature scent of his my way. It smelled of musk and something wild I
couldn’t put my finger on.
“I’m
going to taste you now,” he declared. What?
Christ on a motherfuckin’ cross! Two thick fingers teased my clit round and
round, spreading my silky juices along my seam, preparing me for his invasion.
I held my breath. What else could I do?
“You
smell like you want to be fucked.” He smiled appreciatively. “Breathe, Gia.
Your God would like to sample you. I want to commit your taste to memory. Savor
you on my tongue. Swallow your goodness,” he rasped, leaning into my ear. I
wanted to scream just do it already.
His beard scruffed against my face as he lowered his mouth down to my ear.
Every breath, every heartbeat, every swallow, was mine, here. I had a front row
seat to an erotic movie I was starring in.
Holding
my shoulders firmly with his left hand, he roughly entered my opening. One breath in, one long breath out. With precision, he inserted two fingers
inside me, keeping his thumb on my trigger. I ground against his palm.
“You will
not come—yet. Stay still or I’ll stop,” he affirmed. Well, that did it! I needed release and needed
it now. Fuck. Squeezing my eyes
tightly, I was thankful for the blind-fold. He had to see how challenging this
was for me. With a final stretching thrust he vacated my pussy. Pussy juice
permeated the air, releasing another gush of wetness. His sucking sound ended
with a loud pop, followed by a growl of approval.
“Taste.”
He fisted my hair, driving his fingers into my open mouth.
“Taste
how sweet your pussy is?” he queried. I had the perfect opportunity to bring
him to his knees. My tongue languidly snaked its way around his fingers,
sucking greedily any remaining ambrosia—with my own kickass resounding pop. Umm… I purred my contentment.
A seismic
roar rumbled its way free from his alpha chest. Oh, he was affected. Breaking dominant
control momentarily, he lunged forward, fisting my hair, his tongue forcing my
mouth open. Damn this Dom! My lungs
fought for air. My hands braced against his muscled chest, alive with the
vibrations from the beast tethered within—Abel.
Dizziness threatened to take me under. Pulling air into my nose, I took a deep
breath. Consuming me from the inside out, he didn’t let up. Apparently, my
survival was to be damned. Now I needed to return his kiss. My hands found
their way up his neck to his thick hair. Grabbing a fistful, I pulled. He answered my
call with his masterful tongue and gnashing teeth. Needing his cock in my pussy
now, I reached for it, feeling its thick steeliness through his jeans. He
gently removed my hands. Disappointed, I
lowered my head, taking the opportunity to nourish my blood with oxygen. He
forced my hands behind my back. I sat on the back of my knees to steady myself.
“You have
to earn that, babe. You haven’t earned my cock yet. And he has a bigger ego
then I do.” He chuckled as he stood up, leaving me again. Was he serious? His dick had an ego?
Some
shuffling of drawers opening and closing to my left had me turning my head in
that direction. My legs tingled with anticipation and lack of activity. I hoped
I wasn’t going to be on my knees too much longer. The snap of something caught
my immediate attention. Licking my dry lips, swallowing the golf ball-sized
knot, I readied myself. Sweet-smelling leather assailed my senses.
“Do
you know what the Cat o' nine tails is,
Gia?” he asked. I had done some googling before this night, so I wouldn’t be
ignorant to basic BDSM—knots, whips and positions 101. I had schooled myself
quickly.
“Yes, Sir. A
traditionally favored whip with nine separate tails,” I qualified. Quirking a
smile, I awaited his answer. He replied by running the tails along my breasts …
down to my pussy … snapping my clit to attention. Over and over again my body
became acquainted with this new form of torture. Legs shaking, I thrust myself to an upright
position, hoping this little exercise would stop this embarrassing bodily
display of minor earthquakes. No such luck. My body wanted to surrender to its
Master. My breathing ratcheted to panic-attack levels. An explosion of epic
proportions was near. Whack!—across
my behind. Ow! Fuck me!
“Not nearly yet,
sweetheart. That nice shade of red on your ass is making me hard as fuck,
though,” he countered. Well, that’s not how I really meant it, but that’s
exactly what I wanted—right the fuck now. He was turned on. And that turned me
on. If his lash marks on my skin did it for him, I thought—then so be it.
“I want to taste you, Master.
It’s only fair.” I was practically whining: throw
me a fucking bone! This BDSM shit was killing me. I was not a patient
person by nature. So I deserved a reward for the restraint I’d been practicing
today. The sound of his zipper lowering caught my attention. The lava started
to trickle down my legs again.
“Is this what you want,
pretty girl?” He stepped up, smearing his pre-come on my lips. I moaned
embarrassingly loud.
“Yes! More!” I
demanded. He presented his cock to my tongue.
It stroked his piercings. Fuck me.
Expertly I lavished it
with my tongue, paying homage to this rock God. Maybe his cock deserved its own
zip code? This was a locale I wanted to move to—like, now. Pushing forward I sought his engorged balls. Licking,
flickering, and tonguing at break-neck speed to the best of my ability, I made
him roar. He ripped the scarf off, freeing my eyes from their prison.
Although my sight was
restored, I still couldn’t see clearly. Squinting, I looked up towards his
beautiful face—and even through the blurriness, I could tell that it was
twisted in agony. He needed release. His eyes sparking with warning, he looked
as if his thread-like hold on reality was virtually nonexistent. A sardonic smile
wrenched his lips as he continued stroking his cock. Up. Down. Up. Twist. Down.
Release. Up. Twist. Down. Release. His left hand squeezed his tightened sack
roughly, his eyes glistening. His tongue snaked out to wet his plump lips. His
sooty-lashed eyes closed for a moment as he blew out a long breath, battling
for control. I gulped—hard. Something sparkly caught my upturned eyes, bringing
my gaze back to his sack.
“Like what you see,
babe?” He smiled proudly. His tatted cock was a kaleidoscope of vivid colors.
The body of the dragon was done in green with the underside in orange scales,
the whole length of his cock ending with the dragon’s head on his dick-head.
His Apadravya shone brightly against the dragon’s head, looking like it was coming out of its mouth. His Mons provided
the backdrop for the wings. He was a work of art I intended to worship fully. I
tilted my head awkwardly left, then right. The head of his dick was pierced,
and all along the dragon’s scaled underside were generous loops.
“Ya like those frenum
loops, babe? Ya like that one through the head, the Apadravya? You’ll be
thanking me soon for it.” His toothy smile made me blush at my naiveté. He took
my lip-licking as a signal for further instruction in How to Suck Abel’s Cock
101.
“Relax. Open real wide.
Get it nice and wet,” he instructed.
Relaxing my gag reflex
as per his orders, I readied my throat for his invasion. Not only did I have to
worry about his girth, but I had to guard against his hardware as well. My
mouth was desert-dry, so I pursed my lips to conjure up enough saliva to get
the job done. The wide tip of his cock made its way past my lips, netting a
groan from me of appreciation for this male, as I lavished the small beads of
pre-come on my tongue, relishing his heady taste. God damn. His hooded eyes caught mine as I acquiesced. I closed my
eyes and sucked his head hard with a quick swirl around his Apadravya. I spit
into my palm, pumping his cock once. Twice. His throaty groan made my clit
swell. I loved his male sounds. I knew I was doing this right. I wanted more.
More of him. More of that noise.
Widening my mouth even further, I took his cock in deeply, paying close
attention to his frenum loops with my tongue. The jingling within my mouth had
me shuddering. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Tongue. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. Up.
Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. His fingers found their home, deeply embedding in my
scalp, the pain making my eyes mist. Licking from base to tip, I was on repeat.
His eyes bored into me, watching me intently, appreciatively.
So I gave him one final
swirling suck, letting my lips pop loudly. Then I tried the impossible: to swallow him whole. Breathing through my nose, I watched. He watched. I swallowed.
The thickness of his cock swelling was all the indication I needed. He was
ready to blow—hard. My throat relaxed and opened to accommodate his girth further.
Abel hissed and thrusted deeply. Once. Twice. Three times. He growled loudly,
face-fucking me into oblivion. Surprising even myself, I swallowed his gift of
spicy goodness, humming my appreciation to this deity. Swallowing it down and tongue-sucking
his Apadravya, I inwardly smiled as I milked every last drop of elixir.
~~~
With a final groan I
fell back and let the fibers of the rug absorb my fatigue. Mentally and
physically, I was wiped out. I rubbed
my fingers through the filaments, trying desperately to soothe my restless
soul. At the moment, I didn’t care where he was or what he was doing. His
gentle fingers caressed my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring his touch.
“Oh babe, we’re not
done. Come, I’ll carry you to my bedroom.” He bent down and scooped me up.
Swaddled in his arms, I caught the look in his hooded eyes. A few long strides,
and we were in his room. He gently laid me on his king-sized bed, then stepped
back.
“I’m gonna take a quick
shower. Care to join?” He motioned his hand to the bathroom in invitation.
“Nah, I’m good here for
now. You go. If I change my mind, I’ll find you.” I smiled sleepily.
He nodded and left
through the en-suite. Raising myself up on my forearms, I took in the room.
Monochromatic black and white made up a majority of his palate choice, aside
from his poppy-red silk shantung comforter. Everything was simple, yet elegant.
It was clear that Abel sought the comfort of home and all of his familiar possessions.
I guessed life on the road really was lonely.
Cocooning myself in the
lush bedding, I concluded there was no better place to be. And no better thing
than his scent. Lord above, if I
could bottle his essence, I’d be a wealthy chick. Grabbing his pillow I brought it to my nose,
inhaling his heady alpha smell. A groan escaped me, and my clit was beyond
engorged: it needed release—again. I
needed to steal this pillow.
“Enjoying yourself?” he
asked, his smile reaching his eyes. I cursed inwardly. Busted. He reached for my legs and pulled me across the bed. Holy shit. His eyes were alit with
mischief. He pulled me until my bottom was at the end of the bed. I laid there
naked and began to feel self-conscious. I turned to grab the edge of the
comforter.
“Don’t hide your body
from me, Gia. Spread your legs for me. I want to see what’s mine. I want to
taste your nectar,” he commanded—and I obeyed, spreading my legs.
When he didn’t respond,
I grew anxious. There was a mirror on the wall next to the bed and I could see
my reflection in it. What a turn-on. Me watching him—us, as his eyes devoured
my pussy. He removed his towel from his waist and turned to see me watching
tentatively in the mirror. He grabbed hold of his thick cock, stroking and
smiling, as he watched me for a good long-ass minute. This was all one big mind
fuck—and I was barely holding my own. My blood boiled while I watched his
erotic exhibition. Boy, was he ever a showman. He knelt down and seized both my
thighs, pulling them back into a V across my chest. The image of us in the
mirror was arousing. He pressed his nose along my pussy, inhaling deeply.
“You’ve got such a
pretty pussy, Gia. I’m a man starved for this pussy. When I’m done, I’m going
to fuck you like the devil. My cock will be everything you’ve wished for, babe.”
He winked. Cocky motherfucker.
Holding my legs in place, he dove face-first into my pussy, pushing his tongue
deep inside me—growling, devouring me whole. The sounds of him sucking,
licking, and nipping my pussy made my muscles lock up. I reached for his hair.
I needed to touch him. I wanted to hold his head to my pussy until I was good
and ready to let go.
“Gia, put your damn
hands above your head or I will tie you to the bed,” he growled. I acquiesced.
I would have fucking died or killed someone if he had stopped. Oh God, don’t stop.
“God has no place here,
babe.” His voice was demonic. Had I just said that aloud? Never lifting his
face from his meal, he pushed my knees almost flush against my chest, lathering
his face in my juice. Oh, God. His
growling, biting, and sucking were sounds I would never forget. He was feral.
Possessed. Using two fingers, he starting finger-fucking me as he sucked my clit.
My legs shaking with deep vibrations, I started to rock my hips. Twisting the
comforter in my hands, I began screaming. But he wouldn’t let up. The rumbling
from his chest I barely registered as I floated back down to earth. My eyes now
opened to a savage beast, leaning over to bite my inner thing. I yelped in
surprise. He stood tall and proud, stoking his long, thick, massive cock, his
face still glistening with my come. Nothing registered to this alpha. He had
one thing on his mind and that was sinking his gorgeous cock into my soaked
pussy.
“You want this cock
now, babe?” he asked through gritted teeth. Still stroking it, he spit in his hand. Fucking hell.
“Please, Abel. I want
you now,” I begged. I needed him now.
“Need to hear you say
it, babe. Tell me you want me to sink my cock deep in you.” His voice was
barely audible.
The grit in his tone
had me wanting to grab his dick and fuck myself with it. He was watching me
closely, his control threadbare.
“Abel, fuck me with
that big gorgeous cock of yours. Grind that piercing over my clit,” I hissed.
That did it! He couldn’t wait another minute—neither could I. He teased the entrance
with the head. Going agonizingly slow, he paid special attention to my clit
with his Apadravya: back and forth, round and round. The pressure mounted. I
couldn’t handle another second of the exquisite torture. I leaned forward and
grabbed his cock—hard.
“Stop fucking with me,
fucker, and fuck me already,” I pleaded. He answered by feeding me his cock—one
motherfucking inch at the time.
“I have to loosen you
up a bit. I can’t go balls-deep yet. Let me work myself in there. Love my girl
greedy for my cock. Gets me harder than fucking stone.” He growled
breathlessly. Leaning over me, his eyes hooded, he fed me his delicious, scorching
cock. He leaned down over my face, arms positioned on either side of my head.
His warm breath hummed in my ear, as his hand reached down to stroke my clit.
“Come on, babe. Open
for me,” he rumbled. Thrusting a bit harder and quicker, I felt my body
breaking apart for this mythical creature. My eyes closed tightly as I tried to
wrap my legs around his waist to lock him in place.
“Not yet, babe. I
haven’t worked in my rings yet. I’ll tell you when you need to hang on.” He
nipped my ear. I sighed. Fuck, I had thought he was all the way in! Christ, I
wasn’t built for this kind of torment. I reached down to his butt cheeks and
clamped down with my hands, pulling him deeper inside me. He corkscrewed his
ass over and over. I screamed in pleasure.
“That’s it, mama.
Scream for me. You’ll be doing a lot more of that,” he exclaimed. Biting my lip
to stay in the present and not float away, I took a mental screenshot of the
moment. I felt so full, with my walls stretched to accommodate his girth. With
each thrust he sank deeper. And I fell a little harder. Yeah, I was fucked.
Literally. The sound of my blood pumping through my veins roared in my ears. I
couldn’t tell if it was my breathing or his. It was a hodgepodge of ecstatic
noises. He placed his hands over mine, pinning them above my head.
“Arch your back for me,
babe, and spread those pretty legs nice and wide. I’m going to own this pussy
right the fuck now,” he hissed. I did as he asked, completely submitting. After
all, this was what he had asked for: total and utter submission.
“That’s it, babe. Offer
me that sweet cunt,” he whispered. How did he make my least favorite word sound
like a fucking sonnet? I felt so incredible—so alive, our bodies in tune with
one another, rutting rhythmically in a crescendo of lust, his frenum rings
hitting spots I’d never sensed before. He manipulated my body with expert
precision. I regarded his handsome face, relishing this beautiful man on top of
me. His eyes bore into me with stealth-precision. Looking directly into my soul,
he smiled wickedly, then kissed me deeply. Arrogant
prick. Yeah, he knew he was the best ride in town. Fuck me.
Grinding my heels into
the mattress to get better leverage, I met him thrust for thrust. He moved his
fingers from my clit. With his other hand still pinning my arms above my head,
he pushed my right thigh up from under my knee. Just then he hit a whole new
angle and I lost it. Screaming his name, I clenched my pussy, squeezing his
cock. As he jack-hammered me, I felt his head swell further. He released my
hands, rushing to his knees. After a few long strokes of his dick, his hot
thick ropes of come painted my tits and stomach. Yeah, he was an artist, all
right. His eyes were closed, his mouth parted. His breathing was hurried, his
body still. He looked like a fucking God—absolutely stunning. I would never get
this image out of my head.
He opened his eyes
finally—to see his handiwork, watching me closely. I smiled in post-coital
bliss. I was blissed the fuck out. He leaned over and on top of me, kissing me
with his full lips, coaxing my mouth open with his talented, wicked tongue, not
caring that his come was smeared all over his body. Most men would mind. But he
wasn’t most men. I accepted his kisses with a moan.
He kissed me for a long
while until sleep drew me under. I slept without dreams, with just the sensation
floating behind my eyelids of colorful pastel swirls. If I had any conscious
thought it felt much akin to Alice and the rabbit hole. My body was enveloped
in his scent, marking me right down to the bone. I would forever be his—whether
he knew it or not. His to control. His to do with as he wished. His to consume,
to eat away at my very soul. I was in that deep. My veins ran with his essence,
the fuel, the nourishment, my body craved. His melodic gritty voice carried me
to the surface of consciousness. It was faint, but it spoke to my heart—awakening
me.
I opened my eyes, seeking
him out. He was singing an a cappella
version of …? What song was that? I knew it wasn’t one of Lethal Abel’s. I
listened keenly, searching for any frame of reference. Oh, now I knew! It was his version of Katy Perry’s “Dark
Horse.” His had an edge to it. Nonetheless, it was beautiful. And more importantly, it was quintessential
Abel. He mastered everything he did, on his terms.
Make
me your cupid—
Make
me your one and only
But
don’t make me your enemy, your enemy, your enemy
So
you wanna play with magic
Girl,
you should know what you’re falling for
Baby,
do you dare to do this?
‘Cause
I’m coming at you like a dark horse
Are
you ready for a perfect storm, a perfect storm?
‘Cause
once you’re mine, there’s no going back …
Oh,
God.
His version of reality was quickly becoming mine. I laid back down and let his
voice pull me back under again, swathing me in his gravelly tones—carrying me
to him.
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