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The Bet by John Carter
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The bet : pt. 7
She felt it on her left side. It was hard, and perhaps
three inches long. It seemed to be rectangular with each of the
remaining sides less than an inch long ... which described
everything from a ball point pen to a chisel.
"If you were able to see what was on your stomach you'd
be at least a little apprehensive, maybe even frightened." Came
his voice, soft like a silk scarf running along your leg.
"What the hell was that thing?" She wondered.
Her arms were tied above her at the head of the bed. Her
feet were tied to a pole <?> two or three feet apart and that was
firmly fastened in some way to the bottom of the bed. She was
naked of course. She had lost track of the number of times she
had come. She'd already given him two numbers of the three digit
combination. Her ability to withstand whatever he was doing or
going to do would determine which of them had pubic hair come the
dawn.
Her nipples were extremely sensitive at the moment. He'd
used something that (brushed?) her breasts and had touched every
square millimeter of her flesh except for the nipples themselves.
Not only were her loins on fire, desperate to have him penetrate
her, but her breasts were equally needing of attention.
"I want you to know no matter how much you would worry,
I've made sure they are not TOO tight." Again his soft voice
played on her.
He found himself staring at her body for seconds at a
time without realizing that he had lost concentration on the
problem at hand. His cock was as hard as he could stand. Her
smell maddened him. He bit down on his knuckle to allow him to
focus again. He quietly took a deep breath and went back to
work.
One of his bare hands touched her stomach. He gently
scratched her just below the navel with his nails. His hand
drifted down a little lower, just touching the top of her hair.
The gentle scratching continued.
"I intend to carry out the rules of the bet to the
letter, and WHERE POSSIBLE, minimize your pain."
The hand drifted down further into her pubic hair. The
rough contact on the sides of her breast continued. He would
halt one, keeping it in contact while the other began to move.
In this way her focus kept switching from place to place, but
without any calming of the fires his touches were exciting.
His hand drifted down. All of his fingers were in the
hair on her mound. He forced her to focus on the lack of
attention her clit and her pussy were getting. She successfully
stifled a moan. His hand cupped the whole area of her sex,
touching all of the exterior surface, penetrating her not at all.
"When I put this on your breast, I want you to come. Do
you understand?"
She refused to respond. If she answered, she knew that
he would easily be able to bring her to orgasm with his voice
alone (yes, she was as horny as that). She closed her eyes tight
and pretended to hear nothing.
"I have Ice in the kitchen if you need encouragement to
answer my questions." As he spoke his index finger insinuated
itself into her slit, not really penetrating her, only touching
her wetness.
Not penetrating her was very difficult. The ice from the
kitchen would be helpful now, pressed against the back of his
neck, the melted water trickling down his back. "Being tied
during this was the easy part," he thought. "Knowing that she
was ready, wet, and eager and there for the taking without taking
advantage, now that was the difficult part."
She stuck her tongue out at him again. "I understand."
she said, amazed at how husky her voice sounded.
He reached down and picked up the clothes pin. He had
stretched it's spring earlier to make sure that it didn't pinch
too tightly. As he attached it to her hard left nipple, he was
pleased to note that she first grasped in pain before being
overcome by the intensity of the sensation. He heard the
familiar sound of her orgasm as he attached the second one to her
right breast.
She was overcome by the sensations. His hand was
replaced in her awareness by the points of pain/sensation on her
nipples. She found herself thinking, "They hurt so good!" as she
was washed away by the feeling. Somehow she knew that they only
felt tight, that the sensation was mostly from her nipples'
hardness, not from the squeezing they were receiving (from
WHAT?).
And of course, she was coming. She was not even aware of
the sound coming from her throat, the low sound of a woman in the
throws of passion. The orgasm seemed centered in her brests.
She squirmed under the unrelenting sensation that the clothes
pins placed on them. She was totally bound, totally immobile,
and still she squirmed. When he began moving his hand, she
didn't begin coming harder, she just reached a new plateau of
sensation, the orgasm no longer centered in one place. Instead
her whole body seemed to be coming. She could feel her vaginal
opening throbbing less than an inch from his finger, begging for
attention. She could feel an orgasm that seemed to radiate from
her whole being.
Watching her toss and turn as she came was getting to be
too much for him. He could actually see her vagina opening and
closing; thinking about how that would feel on his cock was too
much for him. "I should have brought the ice from the kitchen"
he found himself thinking.
As he touched her clit, she heard him say, "And the final
number?"
She bid down on her lip to avoid answering. She knew
somehow that this was unfair. She wasn't sure how, but she
couldn't remember being this high before, hadn't thought that
there would be a way for him to use her body against her this
effectively.
"And when you tell me what the last number is, I'm going
to go down on you until you beg me to stop."
Something higher pitched than a moan escaped her. For a
moment she couldn't remember the last number, but seconds later
she said a single word, "Twenty-two."
Seconds later, the clothes pins still on her nipples, she
felt his tongue going up and down her slit. Of course she came
again instantly, and very strongly from this. She thrust her
loins against his mouth, trying to get his tongue to replace the
cock she desperately wanted. His left hand gripped her ass. For
a short time she simply reveled in the sensation of his contact
with her then she felt her left leg free.
She nearly wound it about him. The freedom after her
confinement was incredibly powerful. Moments later her right leg
was also free. Both of his hands gripped her now.
After a particularly powerful orgasm, he pulled away and
then was on top of her, in her. Still blindfolded, she could
only feel him, noting that his shorts were still on, only pulled
down a bit at the sides. "He couldn't wait." she thought.
He was terribly aroused. He could only last a couple of
minutes before he exploded in her belly. He collapsed and lay on
her for a moment. His hand slipped up and untied her arms,
lastly taking off her blindfold.
Blinking into the light she saw that the clock now said
11:58. It changed to 11:59 as she watched. She wound her arms
around him cradling him until she saw the clock change again. It
was reading 12:05 when they sat up.
"Do you want me to use something like NAIR or just a
razor?" He asked.
"Shouldn't you try the combination first?" She grinned at
him.
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