Robert Vickers - Virgin in bondage

"More, more, give me more of that fucking cock of yours. Please, I need it all the way up my poor little cunt!"

Her hips worked in a rotary motion, screwing herself down around his cock. He corkscrewed himself in the opposite direction. Their combined motions brought her off repeatedly. When she thought she was totally drained, both emotionally and physically, she found new reservoirs to tap. She continued to come as long as the man's cock fucked hard and fast. All too soon for her, his rhythm became jerky, uneven. He fucked harder, but with less authority. She felt the hot, sweet rush of his jism filling up her virgin cunt.

He left her in the darkness, not once saying a word to the young girl. She sobbed bitterly when he left, his absence the greatest torture of all. Her pussy had sampled cock and it wanted more. She was going crazy wanting more.

And there was only the empty darkness around her.

Sheryle awoke, the lights dim and sedate in the room. For a long time, she simply lay there on the bed wondering what was going to happen to her. She knew the dull ache in her cunt came from having her cherry taken. Rubbing across her snatch, she moaned lightly, feeling the now familiar surges of desire race up and into her body.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had a finger stuffed all the way up her tiny pussy. She finger-fucked herself until her breath came in ragged, harsh pants. She knew her tits were rising and falling heavily even though she kept her eyes firmly shut. The feelings inside her were so exciting she wished they would never go away.

After she got herself off playing with her own cunt, she had to slow down. Her hand was cramping and the ache in her pussy was turning into pain. It hadn't been any bed of roses getting rid of her virginity. But she couldn't say she had hated it. The feather had been almost silly when she looked back on it. The man using it – was it Stanton or someone else? – had taken her mind off the slight discomfort then.

She had loved the actual fucking. Never again would she call herself a girl. Sheryle knew she was a full-fledged woman now, having experienced the delights only a woman can know. That didn't take away from the fact that she was still securely chained to the bed. Nor did it help her figure out any way she could escape. Naked, helpless, she could only wait for whatever Mr. Stanton wanted to do to her.

She wasn't the least bit happy with that. Or with the idea that Michael was strung up like a side of beef somewhere else in the mansion. Still, if one of them had to be hung up by the wrists, she preferred it to be with him. She was enjoying the feel of the soft velvet bedspread under her nakedness too much to want to swap it for cold chains in an even colder room.

As Sheryle roiled over, she saw the door open. Mr. Stanton came in. She blinked hard at the sight. He didn't actually enter the room. He strode in, regal as any king and looking even more commanding. She felt as if she should drop to her knee and offer allegiance. But the chains on her wrists prevented it.

"On your feet, wench," he ordered. "Dress in these."

He dropped a small sack onto the floor in front of her. For the span of a heartbeat, she wasn't sure she should even pick up the sack. She was afraid of what she might find inside. Or what she might not find.

She did as she was told. After all, this might be the stud who had freed her from the bonds of her own self-imposed virginity. She had someone to thank for that. Listening to the tales her girlfriends in school had told, she had come to think of it as painful and not the least bit interesting. To hear them talk, it was just something that had to be gotten out of the way.

Sheryle hadn't found it that way at all. She had gotten off repeatedly and wanted more. That was the mark of a real cocksman.

"What's in it?" she asked, reaching the edge of the sack and pulling it toward her. She didn't take her eyes off Mr. Stanton. He stood emotionless like a statue cut from stone.

"Open it and find out. I assume you know how to dress like a real woman."

Curious, she opened the sack and pulled out the garments inside. She held up one after another, puzzling at them. She hardly understood what she had been given, until it slowly fell into place. Four garments: two black net stockings, a garter belt and a corset with strong steel supports.

"You want me to wear this getup? I'd feel like a fool."

"You'll feel my whip if you don't don them immediately," he said. His voice hadn't changed tone. The same cold monotone warned her that he wasn't joking. He meant for her to put on these kinky garments. So put them on she would.

He watched her intently as she sat on the bed, the warm, soft velvet comforting against her bare ass. She felt self-conscious as she pulled on one of the stockings. It seemed to caress her leg as she pulled it up around her firm, well-fleshed thigh. Watching, the man licked his lips once. That was the only sign that he was even alive.

Sheryle pulled on the other stocking, loving the way it clung to her flesh. It stimulated her, made her feel even lustier than she had before. Glancing at Mr. Stanton, she saw that the response in the man this time was even more pronounced. There was a distinct bulge growing at his crotch. The girl perversely decided to give the man a real thrill. Standing, she bent down over the bed, turning her well-rounded, perky white ass in the direction of the watching man. She parted her legs just enough to allow a shock of her red pussy fur to stick out in contrast with her milk-white skin. Bending further, she knew he could see her pussy and asshole.

That was exactly what she wanted. Let him suffer. She was the one calling the shots right now. She could make him do anything she wanted – later. But first the garter belt.

She draped it around her waist, then fastened the elastic bands to the tops of her stockings. She felt sinfully sexy by the time she finished. The picture she presented was incredible. Seeing herself in a full length mirror across the room made the young girl gasp.

Gone was the teenager. In her place was a woman with full-flaring tips, well rounded ass, and legs that could please any man if they were wrapped around his waist. She pirouetted a little, not able to move as much as she wanted due to the chains on her slender wrists. She rattled the bindings once to let the man know what she thought of them.

"Hurry," he panted. "Hurry and finish!"

She smiled sweetly, then licked her lips with just the tip of her pink tongue. The movement was erotic, a turn-on that would make a statue get a hard-on. It worked well on Mr. Stanton. She could see the bulge in his pants began to pulse and buck now. She knew his erection was paining him, trying to turn cartwheels in his pants.

She pulled on the corset, seeing that it laced up the front. The stiff black-lace garment fit her snugly. She grunted as her tits were cruelly mashed down by the corset top. She allowed her boobs to slide free and rest on the very top. This hurt a little as the edge of the garment cut into the base of her tits, but she knew it was more arousing.

Lacing up the front, she moved back into view in the mirror. The sight greeting her was a real turn-on. She was white skinned and fair. The black offset this beautifully. The red shock of hair on the top of her head was in wild disarray from her bout in bed earlier, but the most distinctive portion of her anatomy was her pussy mound.

The red-furred patch was surrounded by lilywhite flesh. And around this was black of stockings, garter belt and corset. Just looking at herself, Sheryle began to feel horny. She knew her cunt was dribbling out its thick fuck juices. She was turning herself on just by dressing up!

"Well?" she asked Mr. Stanton. "Do I meet your high standards?"