An Evening in New Haven: A Personal Experience
The pace lessened, yet Kira's thoughts remained brisk.
She couldn't utter a word. She couldn't perceive. She couldn't maneuver. Darren had taken care of all these aspects. Still, she could think. That was yet to be unilaterally seized.
Not immediately.
Another shove, and Kira couldn't repress her outcry. Straining against the ropes securing her, her erection was as stiff as his, but aid was out of reach.
Not now.
She sensed Darren's hand curling around her throat. Respiration was a privilege, clearly, and she had surrendered it. Kira struggled harder, but the erection inside her ass only expanded.
Another shove, another groan, another attempted breath.
The ropes dug into her wrists and ankles. Darren had wound them too snugly - intentionally, most likely.
Darren removed his hand from her throat and consigned his hand around her erection. He was taunting her. And it worked. She could sense the pre-cum exuding; it was the sole lubrication she'd gain for this hand job.
Darren massaged her penis unisonally with his thrusting. She sensed the tension amassing. Soon...if this would continue.
A slap to her face and twisted nipples denoted the abrupt cessation of the hand-job. Kira groaned again, now from pain. Her bosoms, already tender from estrogen, were wrenched by the tweaking motion of Darren's finger.
She perceived Darren's weight shifting as he pressed himself against her ample figure.
"Anal or oral?," he breathed into her ear.
She remained incapable of response. The verdict rested in his hands.
"Oral, I believe," Darren whispered.
She felt his penis depart her ass and his hands manipulate the bolts of her gag. As the gag exited her mouth, his penis intruded in its stead.
She could sense her throat tightening around his cock head. She gagged, Darren didn't yield. Her lips engulfed the shaft, carefully concealing her teeth, as Darren infiltrated.
Swiftly, she felt his penis shudder as her mouth filled with cum. Darren persisted. Kira swallowed.
Her task ended, and Kira gave in to her fetters.
***
They'd met online.
Kira's personals ad had been frank and implicit: "Dom Me."
She'd registered the typical information in the body of her announcement, certainly.
23 years old. Caucasian. 210lbs. 6" phallus. 44B bosoms. Experienced. Disposed to all bizarre inclinations.
She'd been besieged by responses, the majority of them superfluous. The men who haunted these sites had scores of unfulfilled dreams, but in truth, they wielded scant ability to put them into practice. They were in search of a fuck toy. Kira was prepared to subjugate, although only if her Dom was competent.
Darren's message captivated her instantaneously.
"I can enlist you into my stable," he launched, "if you're prepared for the challenge."
"I've previously mitigated trans women. I can extract every last drop from that small clitoris of yours until you're urging me to desist. I can proffer you the suffering you long for. I can induce you to necessitate my Dominant touch.
"If you're genuine, apprise me at The Ordinary speakeasy on Chapel Street, tonight at 7:30pm. Deck yourself out suitably. --Master Darren."
Kira shuddered as she scanned Darren's message. It was well past 4:00pm. If she processed this climax now, she would be lacking the means for the night's performance. "Damn," she mused; "he's already begun teasing me."
Kira replied promptly. A photograph of her curvaceous form and rigid cock, and a concise message: "Yes, Master."
As 7:30 approached, Kira ventured into her closet and plucked out her singular black cocktail dress. Her wardrobe was sparse; the economic requisites of her instruction required it. Nonetheless, she had this. It exuded allure.
She donned a silken black thong and complementary bra. Her dress was short - too limited for respectable company. Hence, she fetched a girdle replete with straps and a pair of seamless thigh-high tights. These would trigger desire in him, she anticipated.
Kira attended to her makeup with acumen. Exerting greater effort on her eyeliner, she traced markedly black lines across her lids and added sublime yet distinct wings to each side. For lipstick, Kira selected a provocative red with lasting capability - she didn't wish to smear blood-like streaks on his penis when she undeniably attacked him affably later. Article
She was all set. She fervently wished he was, too.
***
Kira observed Darren from the minute he slid into the seat facing her at the saloon. He was towering, sporting dark locks, a hunk, and approximately 20 years older than Kira that she deduced. He must've been a professor, Kira surmised; there was an air of superiority about him, and of authority.
They didn't bypass the small talk--a positive sign, Kira interpreted. If he were the one to eventually pop her proverbial cherry, she wanted there to be a natural bond.
Hourglassed, Kira went from being in the passenger seat of Darren's car to his lavish Victorian-style residence in East Rock.
***
Kira elevated her limbs as Darren fastened a rope around her oversized bosom. He was swift, not deterred by how he dragged the rope across Kira's naked skin as he did so. The abrasive texture of Darren's hand contrasted with the filmy feel of the ropes. Kira adored the sensation of them both.
Around and around the rope encircled her bosom, with Darren repositioning Kira roughly as needed. Soon her breasts were ensnared in a pentagram harness, Kira's breasts protruding from the knots tied above and below them.
Kira disregarded the bounce of her body once Darren shoved her face-first onto the bed. In addition, she didn't put up a struggle when Darren snatched her arms and yanked them harshly behind her. Yet, she did squawk a little when the ropes dug into her wrists as Darren bound them together.
Her head jolted backwards. His hands were deeply imbedded in her tresses and pulling hard. Kira moaned--a mixture of hurt and joy.
She felt his knee press against her already erect cock and nestle into her scrotum. By contorting her hips slightly, Kira churned herself against his still garbed leg. Her eyes shuttled, sinking into the instance, when a sudden pain between her legs returned her to consciousness. Darren had slammed his knee into her scrotum, hard.
This was what she craved, Kira asserted, as Darren withdrew before hammering his knee into her scrotum once more. This was what she sought.
Eyes open, she picked out the blindfold for a millisecond and then her vision transformed into dark.
And as Darren hoarded her tied wrists from behind her and hoisted them to the hook hanging from the four-poster bed, Kira granted herself fully into the current of the night.
She jettisoned all rational thoughts, allowing herself to be swept up in the tide of the evening.