Just an Hour part 3 by Ed Cantor
He felt her freeing one of his ankles, then the other, and let out a sigh of relief and thanks. He was confused immediately after though, feeling her sliding something else onto him. He soon realized what it was, and became a little less thankful. She was pulling underwear up his legs – and not men’s underwear. He could feel it, tight and elastic and small and lacy. Over his hairless cock and balls, the panties felt incredibly strange. They felt strained over his shaft, and the thong back was quickly pulled between his ass cheeks.
Panties weren’t enough for Tasha, obviously, as next came stockings, pulled and rolled up his legs. She even fit a garter belt over his hips to hold them up.
With his legs taken care of, she re-attached the cuffs over the stockings, and the spreader bar was put back on as well. What was going on? She was dressing him in women’s clothes? Even without seeing himself, he just felt kind of silly, embarrassed. Was it about humiliating him? Weakening him?
Cursing silently in the darkness behind his blindfold, he next felt something around his waist and over his stomach. It was leather and tight, and only getting tighter. She was pulling at it, and as he felt it hug and tighten around him he realized it must be some kind of corset. Tighter and tighter and tighter she laced it, until he felt like he could barely breathe.
“Tasha, please, come on,” He gasped at her with short breaths.
“Come now yourself, Davis. You lost, so you pay the price.. Don’t think I don’t know that if I had lost I’d be dressed up like some stripper or Catholic schoolgirl blowing you right now. Besides, it’s just going to get more fun.”
He sighed, and begrudgingly conceded to himself that his own imagined plans had hardly been gentlemanly.
“Now, I’m going to free your arms now, and we’re going to move a bit. Be a good boy, and just do what I tell you.” He could hear a kind of teasing glee in her voice, and it was making him a bit nervous. She was really getting off on this, he could tell. Just as before, some silent part of him begrudgingly admitted that in itself was incredibly erotic.
She freed his wrist cuffs from each other, and for a moment, she let him move his arms, stretching his muscles, bending his elbows. It was short lived, as another terse command had him guiding his hands together behind his back. The closure and rope were back, and his arms were being pulled upward. The discomfort of it made him bend forward, more and more. With the stiff corset around his waist, his body was stiff and restricted, and soon he was bent so far forward that his upper body was horizontal.
Davis was starting to get even more worried; hard cock or not, it all just seemed like it was getting out of hand.
She had been so clinical and businesslike with him, almost voyeuristic, that his body jerked in shocked surprise when her gloved hand reached into the panties to take hold of his cock. She started to stroke him, in firm strong motions, and he could feel the intense pleasure of his erection in her grip, his sensitized cockhead wet with precum and tight against the fabric of his tight panties. She pulled them down, exposing him more, seemingly to get greater freedom of motion, as her thrusts only sped up and grew more enthusiastic.
He bit his lower lip, actually moaning, and he realized that he would be close to exploding if he didn’t watch it – but then she stopped. She wasn’t touching him any more, but he could feel his pounding pulse in his erection.
Her hands were not gone from him long. She was close, holding his shaved manhood, and his moans returned as she tightened some kind of leather straps or harness around him – his balls were individually surrounded and there was a strap tight around the base of his shaft as well. It only made him feel more erect, more on fire, more aware of every sensation and the tingling sizzle of his cockhead – but she only stretched and slapped the panties over him again – though they were stretched a bit more now.
He was just about at the breaking point he thought. He just couldn’t take it any more. “Please, oh god Tasha, please?”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” was her only response. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, only to feel a rubber ball gag being jammed into his mouth. She pushed it between his teeth, and when she buckled it tight around his head, it was pulled only farther into his mouth, stretching his lips.
He was moaning, begging in muffled gurgles – what more did he have to lose now? – when he heard a kind of beeping. He stopped, and tried to figure out what it was. Some kind of alarm?
“Oh, look at that.”
He felt her close once more, and through the transferred motion, he could feel her removing his blindfold.
The room was brightly lit, causing him to blink and wince. It was a minute or so at least before he could really see anything.. When he was able to, he almost wished that he couldn’t. All four walls around him were mirrored, so he got a full look at just how helpless ridiculous he looked. It was worse than he had imagined. It might have felt erotic at times, but in the harsh light of day he just looked silly.. If that wasn’t enough, he could also catch sight of at least two video cameras mounted on tripods and aimed directly at him.
There were innumerable hooks and shelves on the walls, each one seeming to hold some new kind of whip or crop or toy.. He realized he was in some kind of kinky dungeon. More ominous than that was Tasha. She was dressed nearly exactly as he glimpsed upon his arrival, except that now her skirt was gone, and around her hips was strapped a rather large sized and bizarrely pink dildo – jutting out lewdly from her incredible body.
“Did you hear the alarm, Davis my dear? You know what that means? Your hour is up. You don’t have to obey any more. Go ahead, do whatever you want.” She laughed out loud now. His breathing was getting more rapid, and saliva was leaking out around his gag and starting to drip from his lips.
She came up close to him, kneeling down to look him right in the eye. “Didn’t you hear me?” she asked mockingly, as she started to powder his cheeks with an oversized applicator, surrounding his face with a white dusty cloud. “Come on, don’t you get it? The bet is over. You can do whatever you want now.” Next she was roughly dragging red lipstick over his stretched lips.
She stood up slowly. “Hmmmm, I guess you want to keep going.” Standing as she was, the rubber cock was right in his face – moulded as realistically as it was, complete with cockhead, veins and balls, its bright pink colour only made it more obscene.
It was inches from him as she massaged it with lube, giving it a glistening sheen.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to do this – and I was hoping it would be with you.”
She moved behind him, ignoring the screaming gurgles he could make – mumbled sounds that only gave his drooling lips a bubbling frenzy. She took hold of his hips and with a slow firm thrust she drove forward, taking his ass full and deep.
The throbbing pain formed tears in his eyes as she continued, driving into him over and over, deeper and deeper each time. It was agony, and he felt sure she would rip him apart. With the mirrors all around him, he had little choice but to watch it unfold – watch her motion, her body tight with pleasure and excitement, watch her fuck him. All he could do was witness as she took him in a way he had never been taken before.
It was different physically, of course, but also in more ways. She wanted him and she was taking him, on her terms. The power of her desire was overwhelming. He felt like he was seeing her fantasies, witnessing the most ragged and naked core of herself living free. For him too, it was strange and new and wild – being held so completely, he couldn’t do anything to resist or react. He could just experience it and feel it and have the sensations overwhelm him. The bonds even gave him something to fully strain against.
The dildo, the most prominent instrument of her sexual power over him, was a completely new sensation and was so painful at first. It still sort of ached, but there was something else growing too: something that felt good, felt new and amazing – the pressure of the toy inside him, sliding and pulsing, it felt good, like attention to some sexual organ inside him he didn’t even know he had.
He was getting the transferred high and arousal from her passionate enjoyment too. Over his gurgled moans, hers were building in intensity and volume and passion as well. She was just loving this – he could hear it, see it in the mirrors, feel it in his ass. It was impossible not to have that affect him. He felt his heart pounding in his cock.
He thought that nothing could be more embarrassing that that – than when he felt her shiver and scream and cum, just from her pure pleasure of fucking him in the ass. He also thought, or maybe just mentally begged, that it was over then too. He was wrong on both counts.
She wanted more, and she didn’t even pull out of him while she let the waves of her orgasm roll and crash over her. A shiver when through her, when it was cresting, he imagined, that was transferred right into him as well.
And then, without so much as a warning, she started again. She was pushing harder now, deeper, smacking her hips right up against his ass, burying the dildo into him, rocking his entire body, making his shoulders ache and throb in rhythmically matching pain..
She found a way to reach around him, not pulling her rubber strap-on very far out of his ass, leaning over his restrained body. His cock was in her grip once more – trapped rock hard in the leather harness and held tight through the panties she’d dressed him in – but aroused and stiff in her hold nonetheless.
He felt her take him, fuck him, own him – and he felt her stroke him at the same time. He couldn’t escape her passion, and the feelings he’d held towards her for so long. He couldn’t resist the build-up of sensations and confusing emotions.
The cameras were rolling, the music was pounding, and when she came again, screaming even louder this time, he felt his own release undeniable – and he filled up his panties with thick cum, all while being ass-fucked by the only real friend he had.
After her own lingering pleasure, Tasha finally slid back out of him, leaving his ass feeling wide open and empty. With his cock softening, his mind clearing of the sexual adrenaline and endorphins, a colder version of reality started to sink into his thoughts. The cum in his panties was beginning to feel unpleasantly thick and wet. His arms and shoulders ached, and he felt a bit ridiculous in the panties and stockings, not to mention the makeup. His mind was also having a very hard time reconciling that he’d just had an orgasm, one of the most intense of his entire life, while being fucked in the ass.
Tasha didn’t allow him to wallow for too long. She undid his wrist bondage from the suspension, allowing his arms to fall to his back, but she did not free him. She frantically unbuckled and pulled away her strap-on hardness, and peeled away the soaked thong that had been hiding beneath it. Her fingers were frantic on him next, opening the strap and pulling out his gag.
He thought better of trying to talk, and as she slid up to him, perched on the edge of a chair with her hands reaching out to his hair, he drove his face forwards.
In a second he was back in the moment, drunk on her lust and his own desire. Her pussy was beautiful and soft and she felt like velvet on his tongue. She was dripping wet and soon his lips, chin and face were slick with her honey. He felt so manic all of a sudden, not able to get enough of her – and not being able to use his hands only made it more intense. His tongue was sliding and swirling, diving into her, curling and pulling up and out, twisting and turning around her swollen clit, travelling up and down her lips. He wanted to feel and taste all of her.
She was moaning and screaming and urging him on, but there were times when she would close there thighs against his head and he could near nothing but his own pounding heartbeat.
After two orgasms already, he figured it would take perhaps a bit longer to bring her to the crest, but he wanted nothing more in the world at that moment. Thoughts of his sore muscles or clothing or anything else were completely driven from his mind – the only thing that mattered was bringing extreme pleasure to his woman above him.
She rolled her hips, riding his face like a roller coaster. She lifted her ass up from the chair, and rested her feet on his shoulders, opening herself completely to his ministrations, and he responded. He slid his tongue the length of her, down and down, until the tip of his tongue was teasing the tight puckered rosebud of her ass. Judging by the sounds she emitted, his efforts were appreciated, and she reached down to hold him there a while.
Her fingers were curled in his hair, and soon enough she was guiding him back to her pussy, grinding his nose against her while his tongue dove. At last, she could hold off no longer, and she came with a rough and ragged scream, and sprayed and soaked his face with nectar. She rolled back in the chair and her legs fell, still wrapped around him, but sliding down so that the backs of her knees rested on his shoulders.
When she recovered once more, she slide softly off of him, covered herself in a long silky black robe, and freed him of his remaining bonds in a touch that was gentle, loving and comforting.
He was so lost in the mental overflow of these experiences that his conscious mind was barely present as she told loving hold of him, freeing him from the binding corset, removing the leather harness from his cock and balls, washing his face, getting him dressed. He was even too stunned to really even take advantage of his first real opportunity to drink in the stunning sex-appeal of her outfit. She sent him on his way with a long tight hug and deep lingering kiss, telling him she had to clean up, but that she would call him soon.
He felt in a daze, like he had awoken from a long nap from which his dreams were not ready to free him. He didn’t so much decide to walk home as much as he just started walking..