Prologue:

John Francis D�Arnot wandered into his study, glimpsing at his collection of oddities. Bored with his accumulations, he stood and stared at the statue of the girl satisfying two satyrs. How long had he had it? He counted the years as he stared into the girl�s sad, lonely eyes. She blinked slowly. Once she had been his wife. Now she was little more than a museum piece, frozen in time under a man-made, synthetic marble veneer, still and unmoving.

He turned and stared up at his ode to pulp fantasy novels; a girl trapped on a spider�s web awaiting her demise. The girl, still beautiful after so many years of entrapment, stared into nothingness. Long ago she had been a careless nineteen year old girl, a student going to college, with hopes of a bright future. No longer was it so. Now she merely existed.

�You�re still quite beautiful,� he told her, drawing her eyes to his. The girl�s eyes rested on him for but a moment before returning to stare into nothingness.

John continued his meanderings throughout other portions of his home, a frown resting on his square jawed face. Passing the small fountain � a mermaid cast as if resting upon a rock � he stared into the open eyes of the girl imprisoned within, then continued his journey.

�In his bedroom he rested his eyes on the sex-doll that had once been a woman. A skin of some unknown origin coated her body, and impossibly large breasts stood out from her body like twin basketballs. Motionless, she watched as he approached her to rest his hands upon her synthetic skin. Expecting to be used, as so many times before, she was quite surprised when he turned and left her atop the doll stand created to control her bodily functions while displaying her like a trophy.

Wandering back down stairs, Jean D�Arnot made his way back to the study and sat at his desk. Immediately the woman locked into it made motions to service him with her mouth, but was rebuffed. He picked up the phone and dialed.

The conversation was short. The individual on the other end of the line was overjoyed at the gifts he was going to give her, though worried at his mood. He assured her of his well-being, said his goodbyes and hung up.

�I�m done with these museum pieces,� he said to no one. �I need companionship.�

Chapter 1

Their meeting had been one of chance. He was the new owner of a small but growing software firm. That company�s CEO had hired her on to optimize a particular bit of coding that was giving his programmers rather a difficult time. It was a Monday, and had it been any other Monday they would not have met. However, a few pressing bits of business had drawn him into the office; and it was there that the two met.

Their attraction was quite palpable. John Francis D�Arnot was a tall man, standing just over six feet, four inches tall. Broad chested and muscular, his was a lithe form topped by a square jaw, liquid blue eyes, and a main of Stygian black hair. Had Kyra not already been attracted to his physical form she would have been entranced by the hint of French accent in each syllable he spoke. Too, he spoke in a rich baritone, with authority and confidence that served only to increase her attraction to the man.

For D�Arnot�s part, he was instantly attracted to the woman. His first glimpse of her was from behind as she headed to the conference room for a meeting with his CEO. She was shapely in her black skirt and with her high heels showing off her shapely ankles and calves, the skirt only just tight enough to show off her well-rounded bottom and hips; and though her white blouse was relatively loose fitting, he could see the slight outline of her waist. Instantly, he decided that meeting this woman was of paramount importance, and immediately changed his day�s activities.

Once in the conference room he seated himself beside the CEO, and sitting across from the girl. Instantly, he was enamored. She spoke with a throaty voice, and an odd speech impediment he would later learn was the result of an ill-advised tongue piercing that left her with a lateral lisp and the inability to properly pronounce words containing the letters �L� or �R�. What most caught his eye, however, was her symmetrical face, near perfect nose, and intelligent, near violet eyes.

When the meeting came to its inevitable conclusion both Kyra and John were quite disappointed; and it was later that evening that D�Arnot broke protocol and called her at her home.

Surprised and pleased at hearing the voice on the other end of the line, she was considerably more pleased when her new employer proposed a date. Before agreeing, however, she had a moment of deviltry overcome her, and despite her better judgment she blurted, �Do you always ask new employees out on dates?�

Nonplussed, D�Arnot recovered quickly. �You�re a contractor, and therefore not technically an employee,� he said. �But the answer is that I do not make a habit of asking employees on dates.�

Kyra grinned into the phone, even as she chided herself for commenting as she had.� Unable to help herself, she asked, �Then you aren�t some sort of lothario?�

Suddenly realizing she was teasing him he shot back, �What�s a wothawio?� poking fun at her speech impediment, and regretting it instantly. �Sorry. That was mean. It wasn�t meant to be.�

Kyra, ever sensitive by her inability to speak clearly, was silent for a moment. �It�s okay,� she lied. �I can take it if you can.�

John frowned. �Really, I�m sorry. We don�t really know each other well enough for me to joke like that; and I should know better. I hope you accept my apology. It�s sincere.�

�Don�t worry. I do get sensitive about it,� she admitted. �But I know you were just teasing me for teasing you.�

�Thank you,� he said. �Maybe I can make it up to you over dinner?�

Kyra laughed. She appreciated his confidence and that he did not back away from his intentions of taking her out. Regaining her humor, she told him, �That might be difficult, but I think I�ll let you try.�

�Friday, then,� he said. �I�ll pick you up at seven.�

Their date was a resounding success. An evening at a five star restaurant in downtown Seattle was followed by a trip to the Space Needle.

Later, he took her to a large, private art gallery, owned by a close friend, where, talking and sharing experiences, they perused the exhibits. As the night wore on they came upon a curtained entryway. A sign over the entrance read �Deviant Art � Enter at Own Risk�. Without word she pushed through the curtain. It was there that they shared their first kiss, laughed, and then kissed again.

�Are you sure you want to be here?� he asked. �This is not exactly first date sort of stuff.�

Kyra laughed. �You aren�t a prude, are you?�

�Far from it,� he told her. �In fact, some of my old pieces are here.�

Continuing their journey, they stopped at a particular piece of work; a depiction of a woman on a spider-web in oil. The woman was sad faced, helpless, and hopeless. Her fate, it seemed, would come all too soon. A shiver ran up Kyra�s spine, and she clasped his hand in hers, looking at him in wonder as she read the small plaque beneath.

�This is yours?� she asked, amused and rather excited that it should be his.

�It�s on loan, the gallery is holding it for the new owner,� he admitted. �I grew tired of it.�

�I like this,� she said, looking at him with renewed interest, �It�s strange, erotic and sad � arousing, too.�

They continued on, passing various pieces, and then stopping at another; this one a woman apparently in stone, holding up a pillar. �Holding up the Building,� was the name of the piece, and on its opposite side was another woman in stone. Kyra commented on the craftsmanship, noting its lifelike quality.

�I want to touch it,� she told him. �They look real.�

�Maybe they are,� John mused.

As their wanderings progressed, Kyra found herself becoming quite aroused. Many times would her mind meander to erotic stories she had read, and the fantasies she had enjoyed. She looked up at the tall, blue-eyed man and wondered if he might be one she could tell her fantasies to, and then dismissed the thought.

Several more pieces were passed, all of women in various forms of use or torment. Some were missing arms, or legs. Others were depictions of grossly disproportioned women; women with lips that obscured much of their face, others with breasts the size of basketballs, some without breasts or vaginas. There seemed to be no end to the horrible, yet erotic, representations of women.

�Does your friend hate women?� Kyra asked, in spite of her arousal.

John D�Arnot laughed. �This is just a recent theme, I would guess.� Then, as they departed the gallery they were greeted with a sign that read, �Thank You for Visiting the Misogynist�s Gallery of Women�. �There�s your answer,� he laughed as they passed from within. Kyra laughed, too.

It was nearing three in the morning when John D�Arnot�s car came to a halt in front of the high rise building within which resided Kyra�s condominium. Kyra, whose thoughts remained at the art gallery, was quite aroused. Consequently, she had found conversation difficult.

���� �I really had a good time,� Kyra told John. �Thank you.�

���� John smiled. �Ma ch�re, it was my pleasure. Please allow me to walk you to your door.�

���� Presently, they were hand in hand, and walking to her building�s secure entrance. Several times she fumbled with her keys, dropping them in the process. Each time he bent and picked them up. Eventually, after being instructed as to which key would gain entrance, it was he who opened the door for her.

���� �Perhaps I should walk you to your door. I am not so certain you would be able to unlock it,� he said. Then he laughed. �It would be a shame if you had to sleep in a hallway.�

���� Kyra acquiesced with a smile, and they slowly made their way to her elevator, where John was forced to ask which button to press. Several minutes later, and after a moment of intimacy, she allowed him to open her door. There, and much to her disappointment, he bade her goodnight.

���� Kyra�s sleep was fitful, her dreams filled with lurid images of women. All were disfigured in one way or another. Some were the epitome of femininity taken to the extreme, while others were missing limbs, breasts or faces. Then her dreams shifted and she was in her condominium with John D�Arnot. Suddenly, she was on her knees, supported by breasts of such enormity that they defied reason. The dream shifted and she saw herself from above, suddenly realizing that her arms had been removed. From this vantage she could see that her breasts were the size of large beach balls.��

���� �I love these breasts,� D�Arnot said to her as he approached from behind. �I hope you don�t mind that I had your arms removed.

���� Kyra looked up and smiled at the man, her lips appearing as crimson inner tubes. �I like it,� she told him. �Please use me.�

���� �Did I tell you I had your pussy removed, too?� he asked.

���� Horrified and aroused by what she was seeing, she heard the Kyra below say, �Thank you.�

����

���� Waking with a start, Kyra wiped the sweat from her face. �Holy fuck!� she blurted. �What the Hell was that?� But she was aroused, and terribly so.

���� Unable to sleep, and somewhat troubled by her arousal, Kyra left the bed and headed to the living room to watch television. Never did she reach for the television�s remote. For resting atop her coffee table was her laptop computer. Presently, she was perusing various websites in search of erotic tales that might aid in relieving the terrible arousal residing deep within.

���� So specific was her quest that it proved to be rather lengthy. Still, her ardor was not dampened, nor was her determination. Eventually, Kyra discovered a site filled with tales of the sort she desired. Soon, with one hand on her computer mouse, and the other between her legs, she began reading.

���� With each word read Kyra became ever more aroused. The tale, that of woman being redesigned into an armless sex-toy, was utterly horrifying and she knew she should not feel as she did. Still, with each terrible word, Kyra�s fingers, seemingly of their own volition, worked to satisfy her cravings. Presently, and as the story turned ever more dark, she found herself in the throes of a tremendous orgasm. Two orgasms later, and nearly exhausted, Kyra ceased masturbating, shut off her computer and retired to the comfort of her bed. It was there that she contemplated her new-found fetish and all it implicated.

���� Morning arrived far too soon for Kyra. Her dreams, in spite of her multiple orgasms, had continued their terrible trend. Consequently, her sleep was fitful. Nor would she have awakened but for the phone call from John to check on her well-being.

���� �You must have drunk more than you thought,� he concluded, commenting on her apparent state of being when last he had seen her. �You were rather unsteady.� �� After assuring him of her well-being, the two made plans for later that night. Then Kyra left her bed for a much needed shower.

���� As the hot water cascaded over her body, Kyra thought to the night before. Smiling, she thought back to dinner, the Space Needle, and then the art gallery. Suddenly she was flush with arousal. Needing release as badly as ever she had, her hands moved along her belly to her breasts. She cupped them, squeezed them, and pulled lightly at the gold rings in her nipples. As her need increased and her pulse quickened, her right hand moved, ever so slowly, between her legs. The first touch on her clitoris was electric. Slow rubbing became nearly frantic, but it was not enough. Fingers, first one, slipped inside her sex. Another soon found its way inside. Presently, and as memories of her dreams returned to her conscious mind, she climaxed. Nearly collapsing, Kyra righted herself. Her mind still filled with prurient images, she eased herself to the floor of the tub. Again, she rubbed her hands across her body, squeezing, kneading and pinching sensitive areas needful of attention. Then, amidst the fog of the hot shower, she slipped her hand between her legs and worked towards another orgasm.���

As she readied herself for her second date with D�Arnot, she found it difficult to separate her thoughts from the images retained from the art gallery. Not that such images were foreign to her; she had seen photo-manipulations and drawings that were similar. She had read erotic novels and stories, as well. However, none had been so extreme, nor had they intrigued her so much as now.

Before she knew it, the time for her date had arrived. After pressing the button to allow John entrance, she checked herself in the mirror, ensured her black skirt and blouse were provocative, without being slutty. Then she stepped into her black, high-heeled shoes and awaited the knock at the door.

As before, their night was pleasant. A long dinner at a fine restaurant was followed by a night at the theater. From there they found a late night caf� where they talked into the early morning. This time, when he walked her to her condominium she invited him inside.

They were not long in entering the bedroom. Kyra, having found her arousal and attraction to D�Arnot impossible to resist, was quick to act. Seizing his face in her hands, she pulled him to her and planted a kiss upon his lips. Immediately, her arms snaked around his neck and she practically lifted herself to his height. Surprised as he was, John D�Arnot hesitated not. Embracing her, she was lifted from the floor as their tongues intertwined; and when she briefly pulled back, he smothered her neck in kisses.

Kyra tilted her head back, rapt in the moment. Then she wrapped her legs around his body and planted another kiss on his lips. Gently, she was laid on the bed, and as he leaned over her prostrate form she reached for his shirt and tore it open. Her blouse, too, she tore open, exposing her pink bra. �I want you,� she said in a throaty whisper.

John smiled, and then removed the damaged shirt, exposing his lean, muscular physique. Then, with slow deliberation, he lifted her legs, one by one, and removed her shoes, kissing her delicate and well groomed feet before resting her ankles atop his shoulders. With seeming admiration, he ran his hands over her calves, and then down her thighs as he eased himself downwards. Presently, he was kneeling between her legs, pressing his lips to her thighs, kissing, licking and offering slight nibbles to her flesh. She shivered when her skirt�s zipper sounded, and then shivered again as he slowly divested her of the garment.

�Kyra knew well what would come next; he would remove her panties and begin pleasuring her. But she was wrong. For it was not his intention to pleasure her, but that she should pleasure him; and for that she would have to beg.

�I am not like other men, Kyra,� he said, standing and already naked. Silently, he waited.

Never before had Kyra been so unsure of herself. As she stared at the large, well-muscled form before her, a silhouette in the shadowed room, she wondered what she should do. Then, as if reading her mind, he ordered she stand.

�Remove your blouse and bra,� he told her, his voice soft but commanding. Wide eyed, she stared at the tall man, obeying his command. When she stood naked before him she was again unsure of herself.

Breathing raggedly, Kyra stood as still as was manageable. Cold and shivering, she tried to speak several times. Always, her voice failed her. Then he spoke a command. It was simple, direct and firm. �Kneel. Take me in your mouth,� was the command. �Do not use your hands.�

Slowly, silently she knelt and opened her mouth. Then, looking up at him, she took his erect penis in her mouth and began sucking. Her initial movements were slow, deliberate, and her eyes remained wide and fixed on his shadowed face.

�Clasp your hands behind your back,� he ordered.

As she moved to obey his order a feeling of terrible vulnerability overcame her. Oral sex had never been an issue for the girl. Nevertheless, it had always been reserved for those lovers who had taken the time to pleasure her first. Thus, the moment had become one of profound intimacy.

Kyra slurped and sucked at his cock, licking the length of his shaft to the best of her abilities. She forced him into the depths of her throat until she gagged. Embarrassed, she wanted to apologize but feared releasing his cock. Several more times she took him as deeply as she could manage, gagging with each attempt. Suddenly she felt unworthy to suck his cock, and she suddenly felt fear at his possible disappointment.

�Stand,� he told her.

A feeling of incompetence overtook her as she released his penis. Disappointed with herself, she stood. He seized her by the shoulders and pushed her to the bed, forcing her hands over her head and holding them together with a firm grip. He ordered she spread her legs. Then, with his free hand, he reached between her legs and felt the wetness between.�

�Do you want me to fuck you?� asked John D�Arnot.

Kyra shook her head. �No. I want to suck your cock,� she answered.

�And you will, Kyra,� he told her. �You will.�

A slight twitch of his fingers made her moan. Then he bowed his head to her right breast and sucked at her nipple. He bit at the ring adorning it and pulled, making her moan again. He kissed her softly, and then sucked at her other nipple.

�Tonight, Kyra, you will cum for me,� he told her. �You will cum often, and you will cum hard.�

A sudden pressure built within Kyra�s body, and she suddenly realized how close was her orgasm. But as it was almost upon her, John withdrew his hand and pushed his sex-dampened fingers into her mouth. Knowing what was expected of her she sucked and licked at his fingers. Presently his hand was between her legs once again. Again he withdrew his hand just as orgasm was upon her and brought it to her mouth. Soon, and after repeatedly being denied, she cried out in frustration and fought against the strong hand holding her wrists. Unable to break his grip, she begged him for release.

�Spread your legs,� he ordered. She complied and he demanded she spread them wider. He released her wrists and ordered she grasp the narrow slats of her bed�s headboard. �Do not release them,� he said when she complied.

�Please let me cum,� she begged.

�You will cum now,� he told her as he slid atop her tiny frame.

Suddenly he was inside her, and she felt as full as ever she had been. A quick thrust brought forth a moan from the girl. He waited a moment before thrusting again. Then, again he waited, his cock imbedded inside her, before thrusting again.

Frustrated by his slow deliberation, Kyra was near to tears. Again and again he thrust into her, waiting torturous seconds before thrusting again. Then, in a sad, longing voice, she heard herself cry, �Please fuck me. Please!�

Heeding her pleas, he fucked her. Hard thrusts shook her body; drawing forth moans and screams that filled the room. Presently, she was in the midst of an orgasm that left her nearly breathless. Another soon followed. Then, as she had cried for him to fuck her, she cried for him to relent.

�You must cum again for me, Kyra,� he whispered in her ear; and after several more thrusts she did.

When her final orgasm had subsided, John D�Arnot fully rested his body atop the girl. Struggling for breath, she requested he shift position. Refusing her request, he posited a kiss on her small, perfectly shaped nose. Then, and with slow deliberate strokes, he began fucking her again.

Presently, she was gulping for air in short panting breaths. Her head swam, she became dizzy and she feared she might pass out. It was then the orgasm threatened. Somehow, and for reasons unknown to the girl, it failed to materialize. Tears welled up and ran down the sides of her face as the need grew. Suddenly, the hand she had not realized was around her throat, released its grip. Instantly, her entire body tensed as a powerful orgasm overtook her. It was terrible, wonderful, frightening, and invigorating all at once. When it was over, she lay silent, shivering and unable to speak.

For the next hour, her lover lay beside her, spooning her as he held her in his arms. From time to time she would attempt speech, only to find it beyond her capabilities. Always would his response be a soft kiss, a light stroking of her body, and a warm hug. �Worry not, Kyra,� he would tell her, �You are safe.� His words, while little more than gibberish to her, were comforting, his touch even more so.

Eventually, Kyra�s senses returned. Blinking her eyes, as if waking from a deep sleep, she turned to the man holding her and smiled. �That was�horrible,� she laughed. �I mean, it was wonderful but horrible. What did you do to me?�

John smiled, kissed her cheek, and said, �I ruined you for other men.� He kissed her again.

Turning her head away, she closed her eyes. �God, you are so right,� she whispered. A strange feeling overtook her, as if she belonged to him. New tears welled in her eyes as a strange melancholy overtook her being. �What else are you going to do to me?�

�You fear this is little more than a fling, Kyra?� he asked.

A nod was his response. She gathered herself, wiped away the tears, and then said, �This was our second date, John, and I think�,� she hesitated. �No, it isn�t possible.�

�Tell me your thoughts, Kyra. You must,� he demanded.

Kyra ran her small fingers over the thick forearm resting across her belly, then pulled her legs up slightly. She turned, pulling from his embrace, and stared into his shadowed eyes. �I think I�m in love with you; and I am afraid that my telling you will end things before they begin.�

D�Arnot smiled, and then kissed her forehead. �I will not lie to you, Kyra, I am not in love with you,� he told her. �But I shall not run off like a teenage boy afraid of a woman�s love. No, in the short time we have had together I have become quite enamored. I do not know that I can love you, but shall certainly try.�

She was crying in earnest now, a melancholy smile displayed. �I don�t know why I�m crying,� she said. �I mean, I�m relieved by what you said. I should be happy. I am happy. But I�m sad, too.�

�You are happy because I am not running off,� John told her. �You are happy because of all I said. But you are sad because I am not yet in love with you. Love needs love to be happy.�

Nodding, Kyra realized he was right. She was sad he was not in love with her. Still, she realized that two dates and a night of sex did not make for a relationship. Thus was it that Kyra became determined to make him love her. For that she would need to please him; and it was to this she set her mind. It was then that she uttered a question that she had never uttered; �May I suck your cock?� she asked. It was a significant moment for her.

Smiling at the girl, John D�Arnot put his hand to her cheek. �Kyra, I will allow it. However, I am not as the men you have known previously. I have certain expectations�no, requirements.�

Of the men she had been with, all had been grateful for any sort of oral attention. Any requirements had been set by her, not the man she was with. In fact, it had been so with any sexual act she had engaged in. Curiously she stared, wondering about the man before her. What was it that was so terribly different about him, and why did the notion of requirements excite her so? All these thoughts were but a fraction of a moment. Suddenly, she heard herself asked, �What are those requirements?�

�You must never use your hands,� he began. �If you are kneeling you must keep your hands clasped behind your back, though if you are bending over me you may use them for support. You must take me as deeply as you can, as well. I know that you are unable to take me into your throat, but you must learn. If I cum in your mouth you are to swallow. Should any cum escape your mouth you are to devour it, no matter where it may be. Finally, you are never to wipe cum from your face or body unless I permit it. Again, you must consume it.�

His decree shocked her, and she felt as if she should be angered by his expectations. It was not anger that she felt, however, but a growing sense of need; a need to please this mountain of a man in the bed beside her. So it was that she agreed to each of his requirements. It was agreed, too, that he would be patient with her. �I can�t deep throat,� she told him, �but I will learn.�

On hands and knees he situated her so he could touch her bottom and manipulate her intimate areas where he lay. At his direction she took his slightly erect cock into her mouth and began sucking. Quickly, he grew, filling her mouth. Per his command, she was not to attempt to take him into her throat without his direction. So she took him only so deep as was easily managed, all the while his hands and fingers roamed between her legs.

�When I tap your head,� he said, �you are to take me into your throat and hold me for as long as you can. Do not move until absolutely necessary.�

Kyra gave a simple, full mouthed grunt of understanding. Immediately, she felt a finger enter her ass. It was unexpected, and it made her flinch. Recovering quickly, and after only a brief cessation of movement she was again working hard at pleasuring her lover.

Several minutes later he tapped her head. Immediately, she thrust her head downward, filling her throat with his cock. A moment later, and after fighting her gag reflex she pulled back. There was a gasp, a sputter, and then she returned to the task at hand.

Another finger entered her bottom. Again she flinched, hesitated briefly, and then returned to servicing his member. A tap on her head followed, and she took him into her throat. As before, she fought against gagging, and then again she pulled back, regained her breath, and then returned to sucking his member.

Ten minutes passed before another finger entered her ass. Knowing a tap would follow, Kyra drew in a deep breath. When the tap came she pushed her mouth over his shaft, forcing his cock into the depths of her throat. Hard she fought, refusing to gag. But great as was her determination, greater still was her body�s refusal to accept the severe discomfort in the back of her throat; and she was forced to pull back.

Finally, John withdrew his fingers from her ass and ordered she cease her attempts at pleasing him. �I can see this will take time,� were the words he spoke to her.

Saddened by her failure, she rocked back, sitting with her legs curled in front of her. For a short moment she cried, looking as lost as ever. �I�m sorry,� she told him. �I really tried.�

He reached out and presented his fingers to her mouth. �You can still please me,� he told her. �Suck my fingers clean.�

The thought of cleaning fingers so recently in her ass disgusted her. But her need to please him, combined with her failure, was overpowering. Thus, she opened her mouth, briefly tasting his fingers before leaning forward and sucking them clean. It was not a pleasant moment for the girl. The taste, while not overpowering, being less than pleasant.

After satisfying his unpleasant want, she was instructed to get on hands and knees at the bed�s edge. John left the bed and came to stand behind her. �Have you ever taken a man in your ass before?� he asked.

Looking back at the tall figure, she nodded. �Yes.�

�Then this will not be difficult,� he said, resting his cock between the cheeks of her ass.

�Only a few times, though,� she added quickly.

Staring down at her plump bottom, John asked, �Do you want to please me?�

�So much,� Kyra told him.

It was then that he placed the tip of his cock against the entrance to her anal canal. Still damp with saliva and with only slight pressure it threatened to slip inside. �Push back,� he ordered, �show me you want to please me.�

Kyra cringed, feeling suddenly embarrassed that it was she who must take the initiative. But she obeyed, and her ass opened and accepted his cock. Slow was her progress, more from the humiliation she felt than for the minor pain accompanying the intrusion. When she was, at long last, fully impaled on his member she waited, expecting him to take action. But he did not; and as she waited she realized it was she who must fuck him.

Had he been virtually any other man Kyra would not have felt such discomfiture as she now felt. But this was a confident, commanding figure like none she had known before. Instinctually, he had taken command without her explicit approval. No man she had ever been with had done so. Always had she given permission. But this man, for the moment at least, owned her; and it was this simple fact that made her so terribly nervous.

Uncomfortable though she was, Kyra began to slowly gyrate her hips. At his behest her pace quickened. Presently it was she, not D�Arnot who felt the unmistakable sensations that precede an orgasm. She fought against it. But it would not be denied, and she was soon moaning out her ecstasy.

John smiled, grasped her hips and began fucking her with jackhammer thrusts. Already wet from her ejaculate, he was met with a sudden waterfall as she came again. A third orgasm followed, and she cried out for mercy. But his own orgasm was at hand; and in short, staccato thrusts he came, filling her with the hot evidence of his satisfaction.

Their orgasms subsided, the pair remained silent and unmoving. Still impaled on John�s cock, Kyra panted and whimpered. �Please don�t pull out,� she begged.

�Why not?� he asked, knowing well the answer.

She took a deep breath, attempting to catch her wind. �Because I�ll cum again,� was her answer.

John D�Arnot smiled. �And what is wrong with that, Kyra?�

�It�s too much,� she said in a ragged and tired voice. �It�s too much.�

�I will do as you ask,� he told her. �But you must promise to do something for me.�

�Anything,� she panted.

�When I pull out you must clean my cock with your mouth,� he said. Again, he knew the answer he would receive. But he also knew she would do as he wished.

Kyra cringed. Already she had taken his soiled fingers into her mouth and cleaned them. But this she would not do, and she told him as much. As the words exited her mouth, and with his cock still hard and buried in her ass, D�Arnot pushed her forward, falling on top of her and pinning her beneath. Immediately began thrusts that sent her into the throes of another orgasm.

�No more!� she cried. �It�s too much. Please!�

Ceasing his assault, he waited as the spasms of a second orgasm faded. Then, into her ear, he whispered. �You will cum again and again unless you satisfy my wants.�

�Anything,� she gasped. �I�ll do anything you want. Just don�t make me cum again.�

�Tell me you will clean my cock with your mouth,� he whispered.

She grimaced, and then said the words he required. �I will clean your cock with my mouth.�

A short time later he began to slowly withdraw his cock from her ass. When at last he was out, D�Arnot rolled to his back. Kyra�s movements, as she moved to clean him, were equally slow. Eventually, however, she took him in her mouth and cleaned him as was required.

It was nearing daylight before Kyra had fully recovered from her ordeal. In the meantime John had held her in his arms, comforting her amidst fits of extreme emotion. Sometimes angry, other times sad, she had remained in his arms until she had recovered. It was then the pair fell into a deep sleep, utterly exhausted.

Shortly after noon, Kyra�s eyes fluttered open. Behind her, and with arms wrapped around her, lay John. As she slipped from his grasp she discovered the toll of so many orgasms; her entire body ached and each movement made her cringe. When finally she stood beside the bed she glanced back at her lover. No longer asleep, he stared at her naked body with admiring eyes.

�I hurt all over,� she said.

Freeing himself of the bedcoverings, John left the bed. �Nothing a hot shower won�t help,� he said. Then he stepped around the bed, took her hand in his and pulled her against him. He kissed her, sending a thrill down her spine.

�Why did you do that to me?� she asked.

John looked at her with questioning eyes. �To which thing are you referring?�

�You forced me to clean you after you fucked my ass,� she said. �Why?�

He pursed his lips, and then smiled. �You said you wanted to please me,� was his simple response. �Did you not tell me as much?�

Kyra nodded. Then her face took on a look of simple innocence. �Did I please you?� she asked.

She was taken in his arms just then. Then, staring into her wide, violet eyes, he said, �You pleased me very much, Kyra. Very much.�

���� Together they stood in the heat fogged room, embracing one another lovingly. Fighting their urges, they stepped into the shower and allowed the warm water to cascade over their bodies. They kissed. �I had a wonderful night, Kyra,� John told her. She smiled, kissed him on the lips, and then slowly took to her knees.

���� �I still haven�t properly pleased you, though,� she said before taking his flaccid member in her mouth.

���� Quickly erect, he watched as she sucked him. Down she took him, deep as she could. But try as she might Kyra was unable to hold him in her throat for more than a few moments. Undaunted, she continued with her efforts; and with each succeeding attempt she felt nearer to accomplishing her task.

���� �You did well,� he told her, as she released his cock and stood. But there was a sad look on her face.

���� �I�ll do better next time,� she insisted, throwing her arms around his neck. �I promise.�

���� John pulled her against him, grasped her bottom and lifted her as she threw her legs around him. But his stance was precarious, so he turned around and pushed her against the shower wall. �Make love to me,� she pleaded.

���� He smiled, lifted her wet body higher maneuvering carefully until he was certain of his position. Then he was inside her. With a slow deliberation they made love.

Chapter 2

����

���� It would be several days before Kyra and John were again united, work and various sundries taking up the majority of their time. Just the same, they were in frequent contact over the phone. Often, their conversations were short, time constraints cutting them short. There were other occasions, however, that took them into early morning. It was during one particular conversation, and after a few homemade margaritas that Kyra became somewhat investigative.

���� �You know, John,� she began, �I was wondering about you. That night we fooled around�how did you know you could make me do all that stuff?�

���� John laughed. �I realized your nature when we were at the art gallery,� he told her. �Then, on the ride home, you were virtually silent. And, if you remember, you had tremendous difficulty simply finding the key to your building�s entry.�

���� �So that was the giveaway,� she mused. Then, in a moment of mischievousness, she said, �If you had made a move that night you could have done so much more � and without even the hint of a fight.�

���� �Ah, but where is the challenge in that?� he laughed. Then in his most ominous voice, he said, �It is far more fun to make you do terrible things with you fully aware. Only then will you have to live with the shame.�

���� Kyra laughed. �Oh, you�re an evil one, aren�t you? Well, don�t think it will be so easy next time.�

���� �I am counting on more of a challenge next time, Kyra,� John laughed. �On the other hand, your attack on my person was rather flattering.�

���� �A girl has to go get what she wants, you know,� she replied. �Anyhow, getting back to it, you weren�t worried at all that I would be mad for making me do those things?�

���� �Kyra, I am a man with one or two years on you. I�ve had a few experiences that go beyond your own,� he told her. �Certain things are easily identifiable. Some are not. But your reaction at the art gallery was something anyone could see.�

���� Kyra sipped at her margarita. �Well then, I guess it was a good thing I was with you and not someone else.�

���� �Quite the contrary,� D�Arnot replied. �It was the worst mistake of your life. For you, that is. For me, it was the timeliest mistake of your life.�

���� �You aren�t scaring me,� was Kyra�s haughty response.

���� John D�Arnot laughed, and then changed the subject. �I am out of town until Saturday. I would like to see you that night. Are you free?�

���� �I am never free. But you can still take me out if you like,� Kyra told him, giggling as her margarita began taking its toll.

���� �Good. Then I will pick you up at seven,� he asserted.

���� ��Seven it is,� she said, a broad smile on her visage.

���� John glanced at his watch. It was nearing midnight and he had an early flight to the east coast. Still, his curiosity was piqued. �I would like to know a few things � personal things � if you wouldn�t mind a few more personal questions.

���� Kyra swigged the last of her margarita, quitted the couch where she had been sitting and headed to the kitchen to pour another. �Well, I�ve already had two margaritas, and I am on my way to get another,� she told him. �So, if you want to get ask personal questions this would be your chance.�

���� �I was curious about your reaction at the art gallery,� John began. �Why do you suppose you had such a strong reaction to what you saw?�

���� After pouring another margarita, Kyra took a shot of tequila, and then headed back to her couch. �You know, I�m not sure,� she admitted. She wobbled slightly as she took her seat. �Maybe because it was so out of the norm.�

���� Noticing that Kyra�s speech impediment seemed somewhat exaggerated, John pressed on with his interrogation. �Was there any piece in particular that caught your eye?�

���� �Well, there was the painting of the girl on the web, of course,� she said. But you knew that.� Kyra thought for a moment, taking a sip of her drink. �There was one that was completely over the top, though. And I really, really liked it.�

���� �I�m listening,� said D�Arnot.

���� �It was the one where the girl had no face except for her big, round mouth,� Kyra told him. �She was covered in rubber, had no arms, huge boobs and a really big ass.�

���� �What was it you liked about it?� John persisted.

���� After draining her glass, Kyra thought for a moment. �I think it was her lack of identity,� she said. �Everything about her had been taken away except her mouth. I mean, she was made into something useful for one thing and one thing only. As horrible as it was, there was something amazingly erotic about it.� She giggled a moment, and then asked, �What was your favorite piece?�

���� �I was rather fond of the girl on the little pedestal,� he told her.

���� Kyra struggled to remember the piece. Finally, she remembered. �You mean the one with the post up her butt that looked like a marble statue?�

���� �That�s the one,� D�Arnot answered.

���� �Why that one?� Kyra asked. �Not that I�m criticizing, but she almost looked normal. Yeah, she had bigger than normal boobs and her lips were ridiculous. But that seemed almost mundane in that gallery.�

���� John chuckled. �Too ordinary for your tastes, eh?� he asked.

���� �Yes!� she ejaculated. �So what was the deal with that one? Why did you like it better than the others?�

���� �She was useful, and she was art,� he told her. �If she were real you could take her from the pedestal, make use of her, and then put her back.�

���� Kyra shivered, imagining herself in place of the statue. �Oh, I hadn�t thought of that,� she said, excitement in her voice. �That�s kind of a turn on.�

���� �Oh, is it, now?�

���� �Don�t get any ideas!� she laughed. Then, feeling rather aroused, and more than a little mischievous, she said, �On the other hand, a bit of roll-play never hurt.�

���� �Why do I get the feeling that the gallery was not your first venture into the world of erotica?� he asked.

���� A quick burst of laughter graced D�Arnot�s ear. Then, Kyra lowered her voice to a whisper and said, �Can you keep a secret?�

���� �I am better with secrets than you can imagine, ma ch�re,� he said.

���� Kyra turned up her glass and sucked at the tiny amount of liquid remaining in her glass. �I love erotica. I mean, I love it. I read it all the time,� she admitted. �The stuff in the gallery�yeah, it was over the top. But I have read erotica that was just as over the top.�

���� Knowing that this was as good a time as any to delve into more personal matters, D�Arnot asked, �Have you mirrored any of what you have read? Have you ever enjoyed any roll-play that might be similar to anything you saw at the art gallery?�

���� There was a brief silence on Kyra�s end of the conversation, followed by another moment of giggling. �I pretended to be a robot once,� she said. �He painted me with silver paint�I think it was made out of silicone. Anyhow, I acted like a robot sex-doll.�

���� �You�re a kinky little girl, aren�t you?� he teased.

���� �It�s only kinky if you aren�t kinky,� she said, laughing.

���� �Unless you�re perverted,� he fired back. �In which case kinky is ordinary.�

���� Kyra thought back to their first night together, and how crazed he had made her. �Are you saying you�re perverted?� she asked. She left the couch and headed to the bedroom as she spoke. Quickly divested of her clothing, she crawled beneath the bed coverings. �Because I�ve heard the difference between kinky and perverted, and I am pretty sure I have no interest in chickens.�

���� �Chickens?� D�Arnot was confused.

���� �The difference between kinky and perverted,� she giggled, �is that kinky is with a feather. But perverted is with the whole chicken.�

���� �Excusez-moi, mademoiselle, mais mon anglais n'est pas tellement bon,� D�Arnot responded. Then he laughed. �Comprendre?�

���� �I have no idea what you said, but I think you were making fun of me,� she said, her tone mockingly serious.

���� �It must be an American joke,� he said. �But I can assure you that no chickens will ever be harmed, unless they so request it. You being the chicken, of course.�

���� �Don�t call me chicken!� she laughed.

���� �I will when I tar and feather you, ma ch�re,� he responded.

���� Kyra grinned. �That sounds wonderfully perverted. Will you fuck me after?�

���� �Ah, so you are a pervert after all,� he accused.

���� �If the feathers fit!� she laughed.

���� In a more sober voice, he told her, �I have in my head an image of you in silver paint and red lipstick. You are standing on a low pedestal with a post in your ass. Is that wrong of me?�

���� �Mmm, only if you never take me off the pedestal and make use of my charms,� she purred. �Is that wrong of me?�

���� �I promise to take you off the pedestal,� he told her. �Unfortunately, that will have to wait. I�ve an early flight tomorrow.���

���� �Oh, isn�t that just like a guy to get a girl all hot and bothered and then leave her hanging,� she pouted. �I should get to sleep, too, though. I have lots of work to do.�

���� �I�ll call you tomorrow night,� he said. �Maybe we can discuss our perversions more in depth then.�

���� �Hard to say,� she told him, �I�ve had a few drinks tonight. I probably won�t be drinking tomorrow.�

���� �Well, it�s a chance I�ll have to take,� John replied.

���� �Talk to you then,� she said.

���� After a quick goodbye, he was gone, leaving her to her thoughts.

����

���� �D�Arnot�s trip to New York was relatively uneventful. Soon as business was taken care of he headed to his home in the hills, as he called it, nestled deep in the verdant forest to check in on the progress of his remodel. Satisfied with the progress, he then decided to pay a visit to his long-time friend, Beatrice.

Beatrice�s estate, much like his own, was nestled in the midst of a heavily forested valley at the end of a winding private road that cut through the rich verdure of the countryside forest. Since its construction, the high walled and gated estate had seen few visitors. John Francis D�Arnot was one such visitor.

As he parked his car in her circular gravel drive, D�Arnot wondered at the changes that had taken place since his last visit. Already large, the Tudor-style mansion had been expanded. A stable, apparently attached to the main home, had been added, and there appeared to be several more rooms. For what he could only speculate.

Stepping from the car, he approached the door. No sooner had he knocked than the door was swung open by a small, woman wearing a white blouse and a knee-length, black skirt and matching high heeled shoes. Some twenty years his senior, her still youthful visage and jaunty disposition made her long, gray hair seem but an affectation. This was Beatrice.

�Francis, so good of you to come by,� she gushed. Ever fond of the man, she embraced him in her arms, and then invited him into her newly renovated home. �Come, you must see what I�ve done to the place. Then we must catch up.�

�Likewise, ma ch�re,� he told her. �But first, have you anything to quench a parched throat?�

�Such poor manners I am displaying,� she chided herself. �Let us go to my study. I�ve a marvelous sherry you must try.�

Following closely behind, he listened as Beatrice narrated the details of her renovation. Then, as they passed through the house they came upon a girl clad in shiny, white, translucent rubber. On her feet were high-heeled shoes of the same color, and protruding from her mouth was a black feather duster. In keeping with the older woman�s taste, the rubberized girl�s breasts had been greatly enlarged, as had her posterior; and her arms had been locked behind her back in a neat box form. Upon Beatrice�s command, the girl halted her work of dusting the nearby sundries and stood straight and motionless.

�This is Dusty,� Beatrice told him, chuckling at the name given the girl �my newest maid.�

Francis studied the girl momentarily, noting the sad, pleading eyes of the girl as they peaked out from the rubber covering her head. Ignoring the girl, D�Arnot turned to the Beatrice, asking, �I assume this is O�Connell�s work?�

�Of course,� she confirmed. �After comparing his work to that of others I would trust no one else with such things. Besides which, there is nowhere else to go if one wants a permanent rubber-doll effect.� After ordering the girl to return to work, the pair continued their brief walk down the corridor and into Beatrice�s study.

The room into which they entered was richly decorated. Painted a medium brown with beige accents and occasional tapestries, the room had a warm feeling about it. Complimenting it perfectly were two large couches, both upholstered in a burgundy velour, and spaced across from one another with an oaken coffee table between. The floor was covered in a thick, light brown carpet, the space between the couches being graced with an intricately patterned Persian rug. Various decorations, tables and artwork were also a part of the room�s d�cor.

�I see you are ready to receive the girl on the web,� Francis said, noting the rather large, rectangular hole on the northern most wall.

�Yes,� Beatrice purred. �I can barely wait.�

�It is a nice piece,� he commented.

Beatrice gave him a look of concern, told him to make himself comfortable and then made her way to the small bar at the far end of the room. Pouring two glasses of scotch, she proffered one to the man who had taken up residence on one of her couches. Sitting across from him, she sipped at the drink. �Tell me, Francis,� she began, �what was it that prompted you to get rid of your pieces?�

He sighed, and then glanced about the room, noting the finery. Looking back at Beatrice, he smiled. �I grew tired of it all, Beatrice. It reminded me of the Museum of Natural History in Los Angeles. Interesting though it may be, everything was lifeless.�

�But that was the beauty of it,� she insisted. �Everything seemed to be without life, yet everything was alive and aware. It was terrible, horrifying and erotic all at once.�

D�Arnot took a sip of his drink and smiled. �All of that is absolutely true,� he admitted. �Nonetheless, I lost interest in it. I want�well�I don�t know what I want. But I know I do not want lifeless. Not anymore.�

�Well, if it isn�t what you want, I am more than happy to receive your pieces,� Beatrice told him. �If ever you should change your mind, please let me know. I will be happy to return them to you. Of course, the girl on the web will have to remain here � you�ve nowhere to mount her anymore.�

�You like that one, do you?� asked D�Arnot.

�More than I can tell you,� she admitted. �She moans, groans and begs for release. It�s terrifyingly wonderful.�

Francis sighed another time, frowning in the process. �Yes, she does. But it became too much, Beatrice. That eternal sadness, the tears and misery all became too much.� He sniffed at his scotch, savored its aroma, and then sipped at it.

�Well, perhaps you�ll meet a nice girl and settle down some day,� offered Beatrice, somewhat ironically.

Brightening somewhat, D�Arnot ran a hand through his ebon hair. �Perhaps I already have.�

�So you�ve met someone, have you?� she asked, amused. �Tell me about her.�

Draining his glass, Francis offered a smile. �She�s a lovely girl. Above all she is smart, possessive of a quick wit and a good sense of humor. I enjoy her company tremendously, and, according to all I know of her, she is sexually adventurous and rather submissive. Quite frankly, she is the ideal girl for me.�

Smirking, Beatrice asked, �But what of her shortcomings?�

�I am sure I will discover a few. No one is free of shortcomings, after all,� he told the woman.

Tapping the side of her glass with a fingernail, Beatrice smiled. �And what of her figure, Francis; is she your ideal?� she inquired.

�My ideals are not natural, Beatrice,� he answered. �Obviously not.�

�Would she ever agree, willingly, to become your ideal?� Beatrice persisted.

Shaking his head, Francis gave a wry smile. �What woman would?�

�My point exactly, young man,� she said. �So what are you going to do? You won�t be satisfied with an ordinary woman. So what are you going to do?�

Francis stood. �I am afraid I must depart, dear lady. I�ve much to do before heading back to Seattle. I have deals to approve and papers to sign. It seems I am acquiring a paper mill in Illinois.�

�I�m sorry I offended you, Francis,� said the older woman. �It was not my intent. Please accept my apology. Truly, I did not mean to offend you.�

�Fear not, ma ch�re,� he said. �You are as dear a friend as ever I have had. I know, too, that you are only looking out for my well-being. And, Beatrice, I will endeavor to accept her as she is. If providence wills it I will love her. Already I am more than fond of the girl.�

Beatrice stood, took him in her arms and kissed his cheek. �Thank you for understanding, dear boy,� she said. Then she walked him to the door, watched him get into his car and drive off.

Turning, the gray haired woman headed through her house in search of her maid. Finding her in the main hall dusting various sundries she ordered the girl halt her efforts. �To the bedroom, girl,� she said. I�ve a few cravings I would have satisfied.�

Chapter 3

Kyra sat on her couch. On the laptop in front of her was a recently purchased E-Novel by an author of some repute amongst fans of erotica. Only two chapters in, she was jarred by the sudden ringing of her phone. Answering it, she was pleased to discover the now familiar voice of her new flame, John Francis D�Arnot. A sudden flash to their lone night of intimacy made her smile.

�My apologies for calling so late, but business kept me rather tied up,� he told her.

�Don�t fret,� she said. �I was up. By the way, what do you do besides run that software company?�

�I don�t actually run that business. I own it. But I have little clue as to the daily activities,� admitted D�Arnot. �But, to answer your questions, what I do is acquire businesses in need of financial backing. The company you�re working on is rather new to me. Frankly, I only know that it makes rendering software and that it was quickly running out of funds. It was my advisor who found it and suggested it would be a good investment.�

�Has it been?� inquired Kyra.

He chuckled. �Not yet. But I am told they are on the cutting edge of things. As I understand it, there are two other pieces of software my CEO wants you to look at following your current project.�

�Ah, so I have an in with the big boss, eh?� she purred. �Do you extend the same benefits to all your employees?�

�But of course. What sort of boss would I be if I showed favoritism?� he replied, adding, �But I do not run this venture. I leave it to my advisor and the CEO. So, whether you get the next project or not depends entirely on him,� John laughed suddenly, �with my approval, of course.�

�Such a complicated life,� she mused, a sarcastically sympathetic tone in her voice.

�Terribly so,� he agreed, his tone equally sarcastic.

After a brief exchange of daily trivialities the pair settled into a more serious conversation. After exhausting such conversation, D�Arnot�s tone became more serious. �Do you remember the evening at the gallery?� he asked.

�Of course,� she said.

�I had a reason for taking you there,� admitted John.

Curious, Kyra closed her laptop computer and leaned back. �Care to share that reason?� she asked.

�Kyra, I have an interesting fetish. You already know what it is, or at least you suspect it,� he began. �That fetish is rubber. I took you there to see your reaction.�

Kyra quit the couch and headed to her bedroom, switching off the lights as she went. �Kind of a chancy move, don�t you think?�

�Not really,� he said. �If you didn�t like what you saw it was simply art. If you liked it there was a chance you might be the sort to indulge me. Frankly, if you decided not to see me after the gallery I would have had little emotional investment and that would have been that.�

�In other words, you don�t like to waste time on girls who are going to shut you down,� she offered. Kyra removed her garments and slipped between the sheets of her bed.

�We have but one life to live,� he told her. �Dates are to discover if a minor interest can become more. That is what I was attempting to do at the gallery.�

�What did you learn?� was Kyra�s next question.

�You know what I learned, Kyra.�

Kyra curled up on her side, phone pressed between her ear and the pillow. �Tell you what, you tell me what you think you learned and I will tell you if you�re right.�

�Alright, I will give you my assessment based on two nights with you,� he told her. There was a brief silence as Kyra awaited her psychological profile. Finally, he began.

��First of all, you�re a smart girl. You aren�t particularly shy, but you can be embarrassed,� he said. �Your speech impediment � which I find rather adorable � is among the few things that really bothers you. You are fond of your body, and you take care of it, though I suspect you are not overly fond of your breasts. Not that you are unhappy with them, but you would like them a bit larger.�

�What makes you say think I want them larger?� she asked. �I mean, you�re right, but what gave you that impression?�

�You didn�t show them off as most women do. Also, your bra is padded, which means you do what you can to enhance them,� he told her.

�Go on,� said Kyra.

�Had you not told me you found the gallery works to be erotic I would have known. Your reaction was that obvious. However, one of the things you told me stood out,� D�Arnot said. �It had to do with the armless sex-doll; you said that her loss of identity was very erotic.�

�And what did that say about me?� asked Kyra, wondering about his thoughts.

�My suspicion is that losing identity scares you and that it also intrigues and arouses you.� His voice was low and carefully modulated,� his attention to her comments, reactions and tone of voice intense. �I imagine that suffering as the armless girl must have suffered, were she real, is an exquisite terror you would experience were it not for its consequent permanence.�

Kyra admitted the truth of his words. �What else do you know?�

�I know that you enjoyed the force I exhibited, and that you would have me do so again. I know that I frighten you as much as I intrigue you,� D�Arnot told her.

�This is where you have it wrong,� she told him. �I am not frightened of you. I am frightened by what I find erotic, by what I want, and what I would allow you to do. But I am not frightened by you.�

���� �Interesting,� he mused. �Why would you be afraid of what you would allow me to do but not of what I might do?�

���� �We�ve had two dates,� Kyra began. �Already you have gotten into my head. No one else has done that. But you didn�t take advantage of me. You saw what I wanted and you did exactly that � you took control, made me beg and suffer. You took me far without taking me too far.� She took a deep breath. �But what I want�what I want is a horror story. To be armless, or made into a caricature, or a rubber-doll�all those things arouse me beyond compare. That is what I am afraid of.�

���� �All those things can be achieved with roll-play, Kyra,� he said bluntly. �You�ve done it before. Now we can do it together.�

���� Kyra shook her head. �But what if I wanted to take the next step? What if my recent discovery leads to something terrible?�

���� �This is but a fetish, Kyra. It�s newly discovered, fresh and terribly arousing,� he told her. �Like so many things, it arrives in a blaze of glory, and then settles into a calm ember, to be occasionally stoked.�

���� His words calmed her, and she told him as much. �I�m looking forward to seeing you,� she said at last.

��I will be there Saturday,� D�Arnot replied. �If you wish, we will make love. If, on the other hand, you want me to use you, you must tell me. Only then will I do so.�

Disturbed and excited, she asked, �You mean you won�t just use me; that I have to ask to be used?�

�No,� he replied. �You will have to beg.�

�I don�t think I can,� she told him.

�Then you will not get what you truly want,� he said.

Kyra breathed out a heavy sigh. �I�ll try to beg,� she promised.

�I must go now, Kyra,� he told her. �I will be unable to talk before Saturday. I�ll see you then.�

�Goodbye,� she whispered.

After returning to the living room, Kyra restarted her computer, made herself a margarita and settled into her couch. Shortly, she had reinvested herself into the story she had been reading. It was one of many she had read over the last week, and by far the most extreme. Within fifteen minutes she was working on her third orgasm of the evening, and she would enjoy three more before finally giving her body a much needed rest. Then, switching on the television, she emptied her mind of all but the most banal of thoughts. Saturday would arrive none too soon.

On the eve of their date, Kyra prepared excitedly. For her previous dates with John D�Arnot, she had been careful of her dress. Wanting to impress, she had dressed in what she hoped was a sexy, but conservative manner. Tonight, however, her mind was on impressing the man who she hoped would later ravage her body. For this reason she had purchased a short, skin-tight mini-dress that barely covered her round bottom, and a pair of impossibly tall, stiletto heels. Both heels and dress were blood red, and accented with thin, black lines.

Standing in front of the mirror, Kyra carefully arranged herself. Braless, her only undergarment was a black thong. Thus, her pierced nipples and the rings within were obvious to the eye, as was the slight bump of her navel ring. Quickly, she stuck out her tongue and stared at the small stud poking through her ill-advised piercing. She had not worn it on their previous dates but had decided D�Arnot might like it. Now she was reconsidering.

The ringing of her phone startled her. It was John, and he was at her door. After pressing the button that unlocked the entrance, she stuck her tongue out once again and stared at her reflection. Deciding he would like it, she headed to the living room to await his arrival at her door.

Nervous as could be, she jumped at his knock. Then, after a quick adjustment, she opened the door. There, wearing a tailored sports coat over a white, silk shirt, accented with a burgundy tie, stood D�Arnot. In his right hand was a bouquet of thirty red roses, and creeping across his face was a smile as broad as was possible.

�Wow,� they said in unison. A brief moment later and she was in his arms, kissing him deeply.�

Minutes later, and after both were flush from the heat of their passions, they were in his car and heading towards the highway. �You know,� she said as she stared out the window, �I almost didn�t want to leave. But we look hot, and someone needs to see us.�

D�Arnot laughed. �And so they shall,� he said. A short time later, the two were sitting at a table in a swing club called �The Nighthawk Diner� and enjoying cocktails.

���� For three hours they sat, chatting, eating, drinking and enjoying music. Several times they had taken to the dance floor, where D�Arnot had impressed her with his skills. By the time of their departure Kyra was nearly exhausted. Contrarily, her date was quite energetic.

���� As they left the club Kyra slipped her hand into his, and, hand in hand, headed to his car. Presently they were in his car enjoying a deep kiss. When their lips parted Kyra looked into his eyes and smiled. �That was wonderful,� she said. �But I am worn out. Would you be terribly upset if I asked you to take me home?�

���� �Not at all,� he said, returning her smile.

����

���� As he walked her to her security door John noticed a pained look on her face. So seeing, as soon as they were beyond her building�s entrance, he swept her from her feet and carried her to the elevator. �Get your key out and give it to me,� he ordered.

���� Smiling, and feeling terribly small, the girl reached into her clutch, withdrew her keys and placed them in his hand. �You don�t have to carry me, John,� she said, her voice as slight as she felt.

���� �No, and you didn�t have to wear those shoes. But you did,� he said. �And you are not taking them off.�

���� A surge of excitement ran through her, and she felt suddenly pleased with her choice in footwear in spite of the pain her shoes had brought about. Soon they were within her condominium, sitting on her couch.

���� �Lay back,� he ordered. Then, pulling her feet into his lap he disregarded his earlier comment and removed her shoes. In a moment she was enjoying a gentle and soothing foot massage.

���� �I could get used to this,� Kyra sighed, thoroughly enjoying his attention to her feet.

���� Smiling, John said, �Perhaps you will.�

���� Kyra pulled her sore feet from his lap and sat up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in for a kiss. Leaning back, she smiled. �What is it that is so different about you?� she asked.

���� Ignoring her question, he pushed her back down and drew her feet into his lap to give them further attention. For the next half hour he massaged her feet in silence and watched her slowly drift off into sleep.

���� It was nearing one in the morning when her eyes fluttered open. Seeing that D�Arnot was asleep, she sat up, kissed him lightly on the forehead and trod off for the bathroom. Upon returning she found D�Arnot to be wide awake, smiling and holding her stilettos. �These go back on,� he told her.

���� With a grin, she took the shoes and slipped them on. He then pushed the coffee table aside and ordered she stand in the rooms center. �Dance for me,� he told her. �Slowly.�

���� Self-conscious, Kyra stepped to the place designated for her dance.� �Can I put on some music?� she asked.

���� John shook his head. �No. I want you and nothing else,� he told her. �Now dance for me.�

���� A rosy glow colored her cheeks as she began a slow wriggling of her body. Conscious of her every move, Kyra fought against her discomfiture, determined not to disappoint. Presently, she let go her inhibitions and began dancing more freely. Her hands she allowed to roam over her hip, belly and breasts. With her hips gyrating slowly, she turned away from him and bent over, allowing him a glimmer of her round bottom. Continuing her slow spin, Kyra turned to face him, licked her lips and sucked on her fingers.

���� �Strip�slowly,� he ordered.

���� Kyra bent over and grasped her ankles and slowly drew her hands up her legs as she stood upright. Still dancing, she stepped towards John, turned about, and then began to slowly draw her dress upward. Her bottom exposed, Kyra wiggled it at the man. Then, ever so slowly she pulled the dress over her head, flinging it across the room as it came free.

���� �Stop dancing and turn around,� she heard him say.

���� Overcome by a sudden bout of shyness, Kyra covered her small breasts and turned to face him. Goosebumps covered her flesh as she smiled demurely, terribly aware of her nakedness.

���� A smile crept over D�Arnot�s face as he stared at the girl. She was red and covered in gooseflesh. Enjoying her discomfort, he issued another command; �Put your hands behind your back,� he ordered, �so that your hands meet their opposing elbows.�

���� Biting her lip, Kyra slowly complied with his demand. Unable to look him in the eyes, she stared at the floor, awaiting his next edict.

���� �I would very much like to know how that stud in your tongue feels on my cock,� he said.

���� Without word, and only a minor hesitation, Kyra stepped to him and knelt.. �My I use my hands?� she asked, her voice small and shaky.

���� �Only to unfasten my pants,� he told her.

���� The celerity with which she freed cock from trousers belied her eagerness to please. Since their last encounter she had felt tremendously inept; and though he had said nothing on the matter since, she felt a desperate need to prove her ability to satisfy him orally.

���� Running her tongue over his cock, slurping and sucking, she bobbed her head. She took him into her throat, and each time she suffered for it. Determined, Kyra persisted in taking him into her throat, each time gagging. Again and again, she fought against her body, and each time did it betray her. Twenty minutes later D�Arnot pulled her from his member.

���� �Another time, perhaps,� said the man, a warm smile on his face.

���� �I can do this,� Kyra said. A tear ran down her face. �Let me try again,� she begged. �I can do this.�

���� He cradled her chin, still smiling. Then he bent to kiss her forehead. �You will only succeed in bringing up your dinner,� he told her. �You will learn.�

���� Kyra sat back on her haunches wondering why this should affect her so. Sad eyes peered out from her hair, unkempt and ragged from her recent efforts. Again she wondered why she should be so sad. After all, she had known the man less than a month.

���� �Do you still want to please me?� he asked in a soft, even voice.

���� Kyra nodded, hardly noticing that she was crying. �I do want to please you.�

���� He stood and stared down at her. �Then you know what you must do.�

���� Confused, Kyra stared up at the man, open mouthed and wondering. �I�I don�t know what to do,� she admitted. �Did I miss something?�

���� �Think back,� he began, �to a conversation we had a few nights back. Meanwhile, I have to use the bathroom. When I get back I expect you will know. If not you will have an interesting choice to make.� He turned on his heels and left the room.

���� Searching for the answer to the question before her, she thought back to their previous conversations. No answer was found, and when at last he returned, Kyra was in tears where he had left her.

���� �Why do you cry, ma ch�re?� he asked upon entering the room. He came to stand beside her. Then, kneeling on one knee, he cradled her chin and kissed her. �Why are you crying, Kyra?� he asked again, his voice but a whisper. He urged her from the floor and onto the couch. Again, he cradled her chin and offered a light kiss. �Now, tell me why you cry.�

���� Suddenly realizing she was the epitome of female frailty, Kyra searched about for an answer to his inquiry. Neither had given cause for her mood. Then she looked at D�Arnot as he gently stroked her brow and realized that it was, in fact, he who was the cause of her misery. Still, she knew not why; and in searching for the answer, she found it.�

��I think it�s because�I�ve never been with someone like you. And�I�ve always been submissive sexually and emotionally. But you draw out that part of me like no one before. You�re big and strong, but you dominate with a gentle self-assurance that makes me feel safe and secure. It makes me want to please you.� Kyra laughed wryly. �Not pleasing you�it makes me feel like a failure; and I already failed at giving you a blow job. Now, I can�t even remember what I was supposed to do. Does that make any sense?�

���� �It does,� he said. �But you are not a failure. A failure is one who fails to try.� It was his turn to laugh. �A bit clich�, perhaps, but it is a truism, none-the-less.�

���� Her face brightened, and she wiped the tears from her face. �You�re a scary man, John,� she said, smiling. �I don�t know how anyone can be so scary and so reassuring at the same time. But you do it really, really well.�

���� �I shall take that as a complement,� he announced.

���� �Do,� she said, throwing her arms around the large man.

���� Seeing that executing his plans for a night of rough sex would be in poor taste, he lifted the girl from the couch and carried her into her bedroom. There they remained until the break of day.

����

���� Waking as the sun cast its first warming rays of light on the Seattle skyline, D�Arnot found himself in the warm embrace of a soft, warm body. With his first movements, Kyra�s eyes fluttered open. Still half-asleep, she smiled, and then slipped back into sleep. After kissing her gently on the forehead, he slipped from her arms and headed to the bathroom for his morning ablutions.

���� Upon returning to the bedroom, a sleepy voiced Kyra asked, �Are you leaving?�

���� Several lengthy strides took him to her bedside. Kneeling beside her, he affirmed her inquiry, and then said, �There is one thing I would like to ask, Kyra.�

���� A sleepy kiss found its way to his lips. She smiled. �Yes, you may ravage my body,� she said with a girlish giggle.

���� �Perhaps this is too soon,� he began, �but in the short time I have known you I have come to care for you.� He laughed nervously. �I would very much like it if you and I were exclusive. Would you consider it?�

���� A huge smile suddenly covered Kyra�s visage, her eyes snapped open and she gasped. �Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?����

���� Nodding as he laughed, he said, �Yes, I am. I would like you to be my girlfriend.�

���� The words no sooner left his mouth than she had wrapped her arms around his neck. A kiss, deep and wet, covered his mouth. When they parted, the girl smiled again. �Yes, I will be your girlfriend,� she told him, adding, �But only on one condition.�

���� �Promise you will ravage me tonight! Promise you will make me feel like you did that first night we were together. Promise!� she demanded.

���� �I promise to make you feel the way you did the first time we were together,� he told her. �Unfortunately, I have to leave town in,� he looked at his watch, �six hours. But I will be back next Friday. Then I will ravage you.�

���� �Okay,� she said, sounding much like a little girl. �Then I will be your girlfriend.�

���� He kissed her, then wished her pleasant dreams and departed.

����

Chapter 4

����

���� Over the ensuing week Kyra became ever more needful of time with her newly minted boyfriend. Their conversations during this time became increasingly intense, and she divulged numerous, previously untold and terrible fantasies. By the time of their Thursday evening conversation it dawned on her that his fantasies remained largely a mystery. Thus, when they finally spoke that night, she dove, head first, into discovering his darkest secrets.

���� It was only just after nine in the evening when Kyra received the expected call from John. After exchanging a few niceties, and after plans were made for their next meeting, the two settled into pleasant conversation. Eventually, she broached the topic on her mind.

���� �So you want to know my fantasies, eh?� he asked, seemingly amused.

���� Kyra nodded into the phone. �I do,� she said, �So far, all I know is that you want me to learn to deep throat, and that you have a rubber fetish. That�s all I know.�

���� �Fair enough,� he replied. �Ask any question you like and I will answer.�

���� �Okay. Let�s start with your rubber fetish,� she told him. �If anything were possible, what would it entail?�

���� �We are talking ultimate fantasy here, right? This isn�t going to be turned around into some strange debacle where my fantasies scare you and you run away,� he clarified.

���� Kyra laughed. �John, when I told you about my recent fantasy about having no arms and legs did it lead you to believe I wanted to have them amputated for real?�

���� �You can�t blame me for wanting to be sure,� he told her.

���� �Tell you what,� she began, �why don�t you start by telling me your most extreme fantasy. I don�t care if it�s horrible. I want to know what you would do to me if anything were possible.�

���� D�Arnot laughed. �I bet you�re in bed, naked. Aren�t you?�

���� �I am,� she purred, �and if you play your cards right you might get to hear me cum.�

���� A grinning D�Arnot imagined her naked body in his mind. �Then I hope to be lucky a lot,� he said.

���� �Get on with it then,� she demanded with a laugh.

���� �My ultimate fantasy with you, no holds barred?� he inquired.

���� �I�m already rubbing my clit, and I am extremely horny� she told him.

���� �If I could do anything, and if you were amenable, the first thing I would do is have your breasts enlarged,� he began. �But they would not simply be large; they would be shaped into perfectly round spheres, smaller at their base than at their largest circumference. Your lips would be large and perfectly round, as if a tiny inner tube had replaced your real lips.� A moan reached his ears, stilling him to a momentary silence. �And, of course, you would be trained not to gag; and every day and night I would fuck your throat as if it was your ass or pussy.�

���� �That�s hot,� she growled. �Is that everything?�

���� �No,� he admitted. �Your body would be covered in rubber, and you would exist as a sex-doll. When I was not using you I would have you on a doll-stand, like the one at the gallery.�

���� Already closing in on her first orgasm, Kyra asked, �How long, or how often would I be in that rubber?�

���� �It would be permanent,� he told her. �It would never leave your skin, and you would be a sex-doll forever. It would be your life.�

���� Kyra groaned and arched her back as a wave of pleasure ran through her body. �I�m cumming, John. Your sex-doll is cumming.�

���� Panting in the wake of her orgasm, Kyra smiled. �That�s a freakish fantasy, John,� she told him. �But it�s really sexy, too.�

���� �Obviously, I agree,� he responded.

���� �So, what are your other fetishes or fantasies?� she asked.

���� �You pretty much know them,� he told her. �I like deep throating, of course. Then there is the rubber sex-toy thing. Anal sex is more of a turn on than vaginal � feels better, too. Ah, here is something else; I like helplessness. There are few things more satisfying than a helpless girl. But that�s sort of right along the lines of having a sex-doll � being in total control of her body.�

���� �What do you mean by total control of a woman�s body?� Kyra asked. �Does it have to be physical?�

���� �It�s a combination of things, really,� he told her. �It can be through physical means, like tying her up, or in the case of the fantasy I just told you, through more extreme methods. It can be through emotional or mental means, as well. Whatever the manner of control, I want it. It�s what really gets me going.�

�You certainly took control that one night. I was really helpless against your will. There was no pretending,� she told him. �You certainly seem to be good at taking control.�

���� �Yes I did!� D�Arnot crowed. �And yes I was.�

���� �And I will get you for that,� she laughed. �Now that you�re my guy I intend on making you miserable!�

���� �Just you try it,� he challenged.

���� An hour later, and after Kyra had experienced several more orgasms, John happened a glance at his watch. �I�ve an appointment at a small software company in Cupertino that needs financing. My advisor says it�s a good deal. So, I will have to cut this short if I am to be worth a damned.�

���� Petulantly, Kyra said, �I understand. But I am not happy about it.�

���� �You�re very cute when you pretend to be upset,� he told her. �See you tomorrow night at seven, okay?�

���� �Can�t wait,� she responded. Then they said their goodbyes and clicked off the call.

���� Friday�s sky was overcast, gray and rainy. Having prepared for more accommodating weather, Kyra was forced to dress far more comfortably than she had planned. Thus, when John D�Arnot arrived at her condominium, she was wearing her tightest blue jeans, a white cotton blouse and black high-heels.

���� For his part, John had failed to prepare for inclement weather. Thus, upon arriving at her home he was utterly drenched. �I came straight from the airport,� he explained.

���� Eyes agleam, Kyra approached him, placing her arms around his neck and pulling him for a kiss. �Let�s get you out of this wet suit,� she whispered.

Taking his hand, Kyra kicked off her shoes, led him to the bathroom and switched on the shower. As the room filled with hot fog, Kyra ran her hands over his broad chest, and then freed him of his blazer, allowing it to fall to the floor. Deftly, and with eager fingers, she unbuttoned his shirt, licking beads of water from his chest as she removed it from his frame. She knelt and removed his shoes and socks, and then stared up and into his eyes as she began unfastening his belt and trousers and boxer-briefs. A lick, a slight suck of his shrunken member brought it to life.

�I see you liked that,� she whispered. Then she slowly stood and drew him down to her for a deep, sensuous kiss before urging him into the hot shower.

For a long moment, Kyra stood watching the hot water cascade off the man�s muscular form. He was beautiful, lean and fierce to her eyes; and even as he allowed her to direct him, there was nothing evincing weakness about him. She admired his strength, his body, and his willingness to grant her this moment of control.

Kyra stepped into the tub, pushing him against the shower wall. Suddenly, the white blouse that hid her small, but lovely, breasts seemed to melt away in the water.

He reached out and took her face in his hands, and then pulled her to him. There, under the hot waters, they kissed. When at last parted their lips, both flashed a smile of pleasure. �I missed you,� she whispered.

�And I missed you, as well� was his whispered reply.

A smile, like that of a lost little girl, crossed Kyra�s features. She swallowed hard, and then kissed him again. With arms of steely sinew he crushed her against him; and when they parted it was but a brief moment before they were again in the throes of another deep and passionate kiss. How long they remained so they could not say. Nor did they care; and it was only when the water began to cool that they quitted the shower.

Kyra, still clothed and sopping wet, shivered as she stepped from the shower. Immediately, did D�Arnot divest her of her clothes. Taking a towel from the nearby rack, he dabbed at her dripping goose flesh. Then, laughing like children, they ran into the dark of her bedroom, tore back the bedcoverings and flung themselves into bed.

�Oh my lord, but I am cold,� she said, giggling and with teeth chattering. Snuggling against him, she smiled. �You are entirely too sexy,� Kyra told him.

John laughed as he wrapped his arms around her. �And that was the best shower I ever had,� he told her.

�Make love to me?� she begged.

�I shall,� he told her. �But let us first warm one another.� Then he told her to roll over, facing away from him; and tightly embracing her, they lay shivering beneath her blankets.

Presently their bodies warmed and their skin became hot. Passions rose as he delicately stroked her body with his fingertips. Her ears he kissed, licking and sucking her pierced lobes. Allowing his hands to roam more freely, he carefully explored her small breasts, touching her nipples lovingly, lightly tweaking the attached gold rings. A finger trailed down from her breasts, over her belly and then between her legs. Kyra spread her leg slightly and allowed him access to her most private of areas. A moan escaped her lips, as he caressed the hairless flesh. Then she rolled over to face him. Placing her hands to his bare, nearly hairless chest, she whispered, �You make me feel so good.�

His response was a slight lick of her lips, a light kiss and a smile. Then, as if it were not enough, he crushed her to his body and kissed her deeply. Passion and need suddenly overcame the girl, and she rolled atop the giant of a man and enveloped him with kisses. Grasping the hair on either side of his head, she held him to her lips as her tongue fought with his. Kyra pulled back and stared at him for but a moment. Then again she kissed him.

Abruptly, and without warning, the giant of a man flipped her to her back, pinning her arms beside her head. Shocked, wide eyed and suddenly frightened, Kyra could only stare up at D�Arnot. He smiled. Then he kissed her, once, twice, three times on the neck. He gave his attentions to her breasts, licking, kissing and sucking on each pierced nipple, a bite here, and another there.

Kyra moaned her appreciation, arching her back as his kisses, licks and nibbles enhanced her passions. Pulling back from her, he stared into her eyes as he spread her hands outward and above her head. Then he threw back the covers and pulled her legs wide.

�Do not move,� he ordered. �Not your arms, your legs, or anything else. You must hold perfectly still and you must remain perfectly silent.�

A chill ran up her spine and her body tensed as she waited for whatever it was he intended. Then she felt the light touch of his finger dragging delicately across the skin of her belly. It led up and around her breasts, threatening her nipples but never touching. The finger traced upwards to her neck to one ear, and then on to another. Then the finger left her flesh, and she waited to discover its next destination.

�Close your eyes, ch�re,� he whispered, and then slipped from the bed.

A gentle but firm hand closed on each of Kyra�s ankles, then ran slowly up her legs, kneading her flesh with tender, massaging caresses. Presently, the hands met at the cleft between her thighs, further spreading them. A quick lick of the soft, shaved flesh sent her to shivering anew, and she inhaled with a hiss. Another lick, this time at the sensitive nub of her clitoris, brought forth a whining moan.

�No sound,� he reminded her, and then sucked where he had licked.

Fighting against her body�s natural inclinations, Kyra held still as she resisted her urge to moan and thrust her hips at the man. But as he licked, sucked and kneaded her delicate sex, she found herself closing in on the moment when her pleasures would be impossible to contain. For an eternity, it seemed, she suffered the difficulty of still silence while John pleasured her. Presently, she felt a tremor pass through her body as she neared orgasm. But it was not to be. Pulling from her, he breathed hot air against her moist skin, and then reminded her to be still and silent. Then his lips were against her, his tongue working its way inside her body.

In spite of his reminder, her body shook and she issued a sad whimper as a looming orgasm made its presence felt. Again, D�Arnot withheld his motions of pleasure. �Remain still and silent,� he demanded, and then waited for her whimpering to halt. Several times over did this scenario replay itself, bringing forth tears of agony, bucking whimpers of frustration and need. Always were they met with chastisement and the order she remain silent and still.

For long and long John D�Arnot tortured his willing captive, marveling at Kyra�s willpower. Glancing at the bedside clock, he could see that he had kept her on the precipice of release for nearly an hour, and though her will bent, it had not broken. He knew, however, that there would soon come a moment when his tortures would go too far. Thus, when next she moved he did not chastise her, nor did he demand she remain still or silent. Instead, he released his hold on her thighs, ran his hands quickly up her svelte body to her pert, little breasts and pinched each nipple, sucking her clitoris into his mouth to tongue it vigorously.

���� Kyra gritted her teeth as her first whimper escaped. She knew she would be chastised, and that he would stop pleasuring her until she regained her composure. But he did not; and at the first hiccupping tremor of her body his hands seemed to shoot to her breasts, trapping each nipple between thumb and forefinger. Pain gripped her as he squeezed her pierced nipples. Then, as if he had triggered a button, she was smote by an intense and gloriously painful orgasm. Never had Kyra experienced an orgasm of such magnitude, and she felt as if her heart might explode.

���� In the aftermath of her orgasm, Kyra lay sweating and utterly exhausted. Beside her lay John D�Arnot, a smug smile on his lips. �Did you cum, Kyra?� he asked.

���� Kyra laughed. �So hard,� she answered. �Can I move now?�

���� �But of course,� he said.

����

���� An hour later the two lovers, clad in white, terrycloth robes, sat at her dining room table eating dinner. Having failed to fully stock her refrigerator, they enjoyed a healthy and filling repast of spaghetti and bottled pasta sauce. Their conversation was light and jocular. Eventually they retired to the living room. As they took their seats at opposite ends of the couch the conversation became more intimate.

���� �You know,� she began, �that was probably the most intense orgasm I have ever had.�

���� D�Arnot laughed, reached forward and pulled her tiny feet to his lap. As he began rubbing them, he said, �It was certainly one of the loudest I have ever heard.�

���� Kyra laughed, reddening slightly. �I think it was the loudest orgasms I ever had, too.�

���� �Then my work here is done!� he announced, grinning. Then, in a more sober voice, he said, �I�m glad you enjoyed it. With any luck, it won�t be the last time you cum like that.�

���� She smiled. �Hope not.�

���� They stared at one another for a moment, eyes locked and smiling. �I hope to give you a few like that, too,� she said.

���� He shook his head. �Not possible,� he told her. �A woman�s body is wired differently than a man�s. I will never experience what you can experience in that realm.�

���� �What do you mean?� she asked, curious as to his meaning.

���� �A woman can orgasm five different ways,� he told her. �She can have a clitoral orgasm, a vaginal orgasm, an anal orgasm, a body orgasm, and, lucky you, just with her brain. They can all occur at once, as well.. I am afraid that, as a man, I am rather more limited.�

���� Kyra bit her lip, and then asked, �What kind of orgasm do you think I had?�

���� �I suspect that, if you think about it, you had a clitoral orgasm and a body orgasm,� he answered.

���� �What makes you say that, and how would I know the difference?� she asked.

���� He cocked his head and smiled. �My guess is � and again, if you think about it � that your orgasm originated in your clit. It was probably the first place you felt it. When I pinched your nipples it changed things. Pain tends to be a rather interesting thing. On one hand it can be a negative. On another, and at the right time, it can be a positive,� he said, adding, �Think about your orgasm. Where did you feel it first?�

���� �Oh, I felt it in my clit, for sure,� she said. �But when you pinched my nipples, well, at first it sort of stopped it. But when you pinched harder it was all over.� Kyra thought for a moment. �Maybe you�re right. But how could a woman have all five at once?�

���� John smiled at her. �It�s a question of conditioning,� he told her. �Once you get accustomed to climaxing in different ways they can all be triggered at once.�

���� �But how?� Kyra persisted.

���� D�Arnot cocked his head as he sought to answer her question. �Have you ever cum on your own without penetration and without your clit being rubbed?�

���� Kyra smiled as she thought. �Yes. It happens when I read, sometimes. Usually I�m rubbing my breasts and squeezing my thighs together when it happens.�

���� �Where does that orgasm originate?� he asked.

���� �My clit, I think,� answered Kyra. �Then again, it�s not like I really paid attention to where it came from, I just cum.�

���� �Well, now you have something to look forward to,� he said with a smile.

���� �That I do,� she agreed.

���� Lightning flashed in the distance, making the two look out the large sliding glass door that led to her terrace. Thunder rolled. Rain poured. Presently, the lovers stood at the glass door looking out at the rain. They kissed.

���� �I just realized that I have no idea where you live,� she said, after their lips had parted.

���� He smiled, kissed her again, and then said, �Here in Washington. But not in the city.�

���� �Where do you stay when you�re in the city?� she clarified.

���� �Hotels are my home when I�m here,� he told her. �I have a house in New York, another just outside Los Angeles, and another in France.�

���� Kyra stared up at him, smiling. �You haven�t mentioned business. Does that mean you�re here to see me?� It was a flippant comment, meant to sound egotistical.

���� �It does,� he admitted with a smile. �I�m in a hotel for the next two weeks before I have to head back to New York to take care of a few things.�

���� �Wait a minute!� Kyra ejaculated, suddenly realizing the truth of the matter. �You�ve been coming to the city just to see me, haven�t you?�

���� He smiled at her, nodding his head. �The day you met me I made a special trip to the conference room just to meet you,� he told her. �After that�well�I decided to ply you with my charm, wit and sexual skills. Now that you are in my power, helpless before me, I intend to never let you go.�

���� �Scary!� Kyra laughed. Then in a more sober voice, she asked, �And what, pray tell, do you intend on doing with me?� She swallowed and looked at him with mock fear.

���� �Live out my deepest, darkest fantasies,� he replied.

���� �Even more scary,� she said. Kyra bit her lip, eased towards him and gave him a long, deep kiss. She pushed the robe down so her tiny breasts were exposed. �Tell me more of what you would do to me if you could do anything and everything you wanted.�

���� Kyra pulled his robe open and slipped to the floor before him.� Pushing his knees apart, she licked his thighs before leaning in to his cock in her mouth. Instantly, it came to life.

���� �I would turn you into a freak,� he said, softly. �I would enlarge your breasts ridiculously. They would be bigger than your head, and perfectly round. When they bounced their shape would remain perfect. They would be firm, almost hard.�

���� Kyra took him into her throat and gagged. She pulled back and demanded more. �Tell me more, John. Tell me,� she said, and then returned to sucking him.

���� �Your mouth would be perfectly round, and your lips swollen. They would be perfect sex-doll lips, and they would prevent you from talking properly,� he said. �You would have no pussy. You would only have an asshole; and that I would fuck time and again, just as I would fuck your mouth.�

���� Again, she took him into her throat. Again, she gagged. Kyra pulled back. There were tears running down her cheeks. She smiled. �I want you to fuck my mouth, John. So bad.�

���� �I will, ch�re,� he said.

���� She smiled, demanded he tell her more, and then resumed pleasuring him.

���� �Your waist would be reduced several inches,� he said, continuing his narration. �Your appearance would be so drastic that none could avoid staring at your perfect sex-doll body. But worst of all, you would be covered in rubber. But the rubber would never come off. It would be a permanent part of your life.�

���� After gagging again, Kyra pulled from his cock and stared into his eyes. �I can�t deep throat, yet,� she told him. �But I want to make you cum. Tell me what to do, John. I�ll do anything you want.�

���� �I know, Kyra,� he said. �I can tell you want to please me.�

���� Kyra nodded and took his cock into her mouth, her eyes fixed on the man before her. She needed to please him as he wished, needed to take him in her throat. None before had driven her to such need, nor had she ever felt so submissive as with this man. It was freeing, exciting and it aroused her beyond compare. For a moment she wondered what it was that had driven her to feel as she did; and then she put aside her thoughts and focused on pleasing her man.

���� �Maybe you should visit an adult toy store, Kyra,� he said, hoping to plant a seed in her mind. �They have items you could practice with. I am sure it would be a simple matter to learn.�

���� Without releasing his cock, she nodded, offering a faint, �Okay� around his member.

���� �Now I will use your ass for my pleasure,� he told her.

���� �Wait,� she said, as he pulled from her mouth and stood up. �I�when you did that before�it was after you had�your fingers had kind of stretched me a little. I was ready. I don�t think�I�m not ready, john. I�m afraid it will hurt.�

���� D�Arnot smiled and pulled her upwards so she stood before him, divesting her of the robe that hung loosely about her body and allowing it to fall to the floor. She was forced to the couch, positioned so that her bottom hung slightly off its edge.� �Yes, it will,� he told her. �It will hurt, and you will suffer. But it will please me.� Then he lifted her legs and forced her knees against her chest.

���� �I don�t want to do this, John,� she whispered. But it was a lie. She did want it�wanted to be taken, forced, made to suffer if such was his want. �It will hurt. It may even cause you great pain. But you will do it. If you fight me in this,� he continued, �it will not matter. There is nothing you can do to prevent me from taking you as I please.�

���� Kyra knew his words to be true, and it excited her. Long had it been a fantasy to be forcefully taken, her wants, struggles and pains ignored. It would happen tonight, and she was glad for it. No longer would she wonder what it was to truly submit to another�s will.

���� Presently the moment was upon her. John had taken up position at the couch�s edge, his cock resting against her unprepared sphincter. She was told to wrap her arms around her legs as they rested against her chest. Then he was inside, and she was crying out in pain. In her mind, Kyra pushed him from her body, fled the pain, fled from the man. But without, she hugged her legs tightly against her body, enduring the rough assault on her ass.

���� �This is what you get for being such a poor cock sucker, Kyra,� she heard him say. �You deserve this for failing to please me as I�ve pleased you.�

���� His words thrilled and humiliated her all at once. Suddenly Kyra realized that the pain, at once intense, had receded. It was then that her pride took over her body; and knowing she could not please him with her mouth, she determined to do her utmost to please him with her ass.

���� �Someday, you may learn to please me with your mouth, Kyra,� he began, �but until then you will have to suffer.�

���� �I will suffer for you,� she whispered, clenching her sphincter as tightly as she could.

���� �You deserve to suffer for being such a failure with your mouth,� he growled.�

���� Presently, his pace increased. Then, just as it seemed he might cum, he withdrew from her ass and nearly leaped to straddling her body again. Taking the hair on the top of her head in his firm grasp he pulled her face to his cock and ordered she suck; and though disgusted her fear of displeasing him outweighed her sensibilities. Thus, Kyra obeyed his edict and sucked the offensive member to climax.

���� For several minutes following his orgasm, John remained as he was. His cock softened slowly, allowing him to push its length into her mouth. Presently, her lips touched against his body. It was only then that he withdrew.

���� �Did you enjoy being used, Kyra?� asked D�Arnot, as he took a seat beside the girl.

���� Unsure if she should move, Kyra remained with her legs up and over her body. �I don�t know,� she admitted.

���� �It is good that you have not moved,� he complemented. �I like that you wait for instruction.� John reached over her body to her sex. He fingered her clitoris, making her jerk slightly. Finding it to be sensitive and engorged, he ran his hand between the cleft of her sex, making her jerk another time. �Both your clit and pussy tell me that you enjoyed what I did to you,� he told her. Then he began a slow massage between her legs. �Tell me of your fantasy, Kyra. Tell me how you imagined being forced to serve.�

���� Kyra gasped as his fingers penetrated her sex. She looked at him with doe eyes, appearing almost sad. �I�m�I�m taken to the bedroom. But it�s not my bedroom. It�s someone else�s � the man who is forcing me�it�s his bedroom,� she began. Two fingers slipped inside her body and began massaging her. She gasped. �He�s bigger than me � handsome � and he�s cruel.� Kyra moaned. �He forces me to the bed. I fight, but it�s useless. It�s useless because my arms are tied behind my back. The man, and I don�t know who he is, never see his face, ties me face down to a bench. He puts a ring gag in my mouth and fucks my face. When he pulls out he goes behind me and plunges into my pussy. I don�t want it, and I scream. But he ignored me. He puts a finger in my ass while he fucks me hard.����

���� D�Arnot withdrew his fingers, brought them to her mouth and made her suck them. Then he slipped from the couch and knelt between her legs. �Continue, ma ch�re,� he said, before licking at the swollen nub above her sex.

���� �From time to time he pulls out and makes me suck my juices from his cock,� she said with a moan. Suddenly, she realized that his hands were squeezing her breasts and playing with the rings in her nipples. �Then he fucks me some more.�

���� �How long does he fuck you, Kyra?� asked D�Arnot. He pinched her nipples, twisting them gently.

���� �I don�t know,� she answered. �He just fucks me. Sometimes he fucks my face, and sometimes my pussy. But he doesn�t cum. Not from that.� The pressure on Kyra�s nipples had increased, and each word she spoke was pained. �Eventually he takes me from the bench, pushes my knees to my chest and ties me that way. Suddenly I am suspended over his bed, hanging from a wooden rafter. � My hair is in a ponytail that pulls my head back. There�s something in my ass � a plug.�

���� Pinching and rubbing her nipples vigorously, John asked, �And what does he do to you then?�

���� A moan that was both pain and pleasure slipped between gritted teeth. �He fucks me. Only now, when he pulls out of my mouth or pussy he can just spin me around. And that�s exactly what he does. He fucks my pussy, pulls out and spins me, and then fucks my mouth.�

���� �Do you cum, Kyra?� she was asked.

���� �Yes. I cum. But I don�t want to cum. What he is doing is wrong. But I can�t help it,� she told him.

���� �Does he cum, too?�

���� �Yes, but not inside me,� she said. �He pulls out of my pussy and cums on my face.�

���� D�Arnot pulled on her nipples, crushing them between his thick fingers, and drawing forth a hissing groan. �Do you like that he came on your face?�

���� �No,� she told him, groaning at the pain he was causing. �It�s gross and humiliating. I would rather he came in my mouth.�

���� �But it�s your fantasy, Kyra,� he insisted. �In your fantasy he came on your face. Why would he cum on your face if it�s your fantasy?�

���� Kyra moaned, thrusting her hips into open air. More than anything she wanted D�Arnot press his body against hers and fuck her. She needed his cock, his intrusion into her body, his overpowering strength. �Fuck me, please,� she begged. But he refused, demanding she answer his question. �Because I�m his plaything,� she said in a distant, sad voice, �and he can do anything he wants to me.�

���� He gave a light lick to her engorged clitoris. Kyra hissed in, and then moaned. �Would you like to be my plaything?� he asked. �Would you like to have no choice in how or when you are used, Kyra?�

���� �Oh, God,� she cried. �Please fuck me, John. I just need you to fuck me. Please fuck me!�

���� �You will answer my question, slut!� he told her, tweaking her nipples and pinching them harder still.

���� The sound that suddenly emanated from her was animalistic, sad and pathetic all at once. She jerked away from him suddenly, pushing his hands from her breasts and rolling over. But as she shot forward, towards the back of the couch, he caught her by the hair and dragged her back. Kyra kicked and screamed out as she was dragged back and then pushed face down into the cushions. But her efforts were for naught, her assailant unstoppable; and she was quickly flipped to her back, knees pressed to her chest and hands at her sides with D�Arnot straddling her.

She stared up at him, anger flashing in her eyes. But there was no fear. Not of him. �Let me go!� she demanded, and then resumed struggling while repeating her demand once again.

Patiently he waited for her struggles to cease. Then, and in a voice that was soft, low and evenly modulated, he told her, �I will let you go, Kyra. But not until you have answered my question.� There was a brief silence before he again spoke. �Be careful to answer truthfully, Kyra.�

The two remained silent for a long moment, staring into each other�s eyes. Then Kyra closed her eyes and swallowed. �I can�t answer you, John. Not now.�

He reached down and wiped away the lone tear that had streaked down the side of her face. �Why not now, Kyra?� he asked.

Another tear ran down the side of her face. She smiled weakly. �Because I don�t want to be a plaything, John - it�s just a fantasy.�

Surprised by her response, John realized he had misjudged her dramatically. Since he had met her, D�Arnot had been certain that her submissive streak ran extremely deep. Now he feared otherwise. Quick to recover, he smiled. �Kyra?�

�Yes John?�

�I think you have the wrong impression,� he lied. Slipping from her body to sit on the floor before her, he laughed. �I didn�t mean�that is to say�I was merely trying to give you the fantasy. I didn�t mean for you to�well, be some sort of sex slave � not really.�

Instantly mortified, she swung her legs to her side and came to her knees. �Oh, lord. I feel so stupid!� she said, red faced. �You seemed so serious, John. I mean, I thought you meant��

He laughed and clapped a hand on her thigh. �This is too damned funny,� he said. �I guess I�m a better actor than I imagined.�

�Lord, but I feel stupid,� she iterated. �What was I thinking, John? I promise I�m not usually that airheaded. I think I just got too caught up in the moment; and you seemed so serious!�

He scrambled to the couch and pushed her back, laying his considerable bulk on top of her. �Kyra,� he began, looking quite serious and sounding as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, �would you be my sex slave?�

�Get off me, you bastard!� she demanded, grinning sheepishly. �Get out of my house and never darken my door again!�

Then they kissed.

���� For the next two weeks the two enjoyed a virtual honeymoon. With exception of those hours she spent working, they were never out of each other�s sight. All too fast did their time pass, and he was soon forced to return to New York with the promise he would return the following Friday.

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