A Taste of Cherie - Sex Stories

A Taste of Cherie

... thought we were punishing her."

"I—I meant..."

I squeeze her butt. "You're so horny you can hardly talk. I'll get you gagged, and I'll handle the rest. Okay, princess?"

"Thank you," she whispers, smiling with relief.

The gag in question is a purple ball gag. It looks adorable on her, but so does an anal hook. One kink at a time, though. She lays face down on the floor, following me with her eyes while I find the hook. She doesn't move a muscle until I stand over her. As I gently caress her bare bottom, she pushes her ass up against my hand, slowly and majestically. She peers backward, smiling behind her gag. As soon as our eyes meet, she looks away timidly, hiding a look that I will remember for the rest of my life.

Her buttocks tense as I grip her buttplug—the one she's been wearing all day. It's all full of her struggles and frustrations and is no longer sexy. A soft sigh escapes her lips as it is removed from her body. Then she gives a slight gasp as the drizzle of lube meets her bare skin. The cold gel slides between her buttocks, preparing her for the cold metal hook. The hook has a fairly large metal sphere attached to the business end, and doesn't slip in easily. She's gotta work for it. At first it seems like it won't go in, even though she's grunting and straining. Then all the sudden it crowns and sinks in. She's hooked.

Now I'm staring at the bare bottom of the prettiest girl in the world. She mumbles something through her gag, but her fate has ...

... been out of her hands for some time now. I tie a rope to the ring at the end of her hook and remove her leash.

"I think I'll take my princess for a walk."

She makes no attempt to conceal her eagerness. As soon as I pull the rope taut, she heads out of the armory and into the hall, crawling obediently at my side. We head into the living room and around the coffee table, and then back to the armory. Excitement hangs in her breath, and she trembles with desire as two nipple clamps are added to her body. I take her for another walk through the house, going slowly to make sure she's properly enjoying herself. A sharp tug every now and then makes sure she doesn't forget who is master and who is slave. I've never seen anyone so eager to obey. She's like a puppy, in a way.

I watch her from behind as she crawls. I notice the way the muscles and tendons on the insides of her thighs flex with every step, how her hair falls flows across her back, and how she curls her toes excitedly when she thinks I'm not looking. We finally end up back in the armory, where she waits obediently while I loop her rope over the metal frame that's bolted to the ceiling. Yes, it can support her entire weight. She helped me install it something like two years ago when we were really into suspension bondage.

I pull the rope tighter and tighter, hoisting her pelvis off the ground painfully. Then her arms are taken away and handcuffed behind her back. Half her weight is now on her face. Fortunately for ...