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Tales 12

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Tales Vol.9

Deep Waters

Tales NHSP 8

Challenge of Love

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Coming of Age

In The Dark II

Breanne's Three - Chicago BDSM

The Society of the Golden Rose

The Silver Locke

Michael Alexander Stories

Choose Your Own Destiny - The Club

 

6b – Dippers!

You examine the tray full of dippers with zeal, wondering how much fun you can have with Amanda.  An assortment of vegetables, ranging from zucchinis the width of a half dollar, to giant cucumbers as thick as your wrist sit waiting next to an assortment of cylinders of melon, cantaloupe, and natural banana.  A freshly peeled ginger root sits to the side along with a small bowl full of steaming chocolate syrup.  Another bowl with whip cream matches the first, and then a bowl of warm caramel.  Ah…the fun you can have!

The utensils provided are also diabolical; from the little silicon coated whisk to the leather sap.  You bypass the sap, grabbing the whisk instead.  Slowly, you insert the metal tool into Amanda’s pussy, letting the silicon coated loops press against the petals of her flower.  She lets out an animal sound, much like a muffled gasp through the gag and you grin, shaking the handle of the whisk back and forth so that it “stirs” her insides.  You twist it round, shaking it, and then begin to pump it in and out, bringing it almost fully clear of her pussy before plunging it back in.

It is obviously torment for her. The very nature of the whisk makes her body feel the penetration, that deep thrusts, only to be subjected to the unnatural sensations of the multiple hoops twirling against the walls of her hole.  You realize that all the whisk is doing is excitement, raising her levels of sexual need higher.  You press a thumb against her clit as you work her and she cries out through the gag.  You watch with pleasure as her thighs tremble and you wiggle your thumb back and forth.  In seconds she explodes, a wetness practically squirting from her pussy.  Her body trembles and you laugh.  As she finally settles, you give the whisk another twist inside her and then begin the same process.  In and out the metal utensil goes, and this time it only takes a dozen thrusts before she is near sexual euphoria again.

But before she reaches nirvana you yank out the whisk.  She whimpers as the metal hoops bruise her slightly, and you drop the tool with a clatter on the tray.  You reach up to the dippers and grab hold of the cucumber.  Who cares about the zucchini?  No one likes those things anyway, you say to yourself.  You place the tip of the large green vegetable at her entrance and begin twisting it in, allowing her copious juices to coat the emerald skin.

Amanda is panting.  She lifts her head to glance down at you, but is unable to see what you are pushing into her.  It is huge, clearly larger than anything she has probably had up inside her before.  You smile as her petals are stretched to the maximum, and her hips lift as much as the rope and position lets her, all in an effort to minimize the strain.  The first inch is easy.  The second takes a bit more force.  Then the third and fourth inches slide in perfectly.

You begin to pump, drawing it out so that only the first inch is still buried in her quivering snatch.  She groans as you push it back in, her toes curling delightfully as you penetrate her deeply.  You repeat the actions, drawing the cucumber in and out until the discomfort of size is negated by sexual need.   You contemplate letting her orgasm again and decide that she deserves it.  You pick up the pace, as she begins to shake, sensations exploding up from her sex reach her brain.  You begin to alternate the depths and speed of your thrusts, watching her.  Her cheeks flush and you grin as you gauge her needs.  She lets out a high pitched keening and you smash the cucumber home, ramming it deeply into her.  You draw it almost completely out and thrust again, driving the tip into her cervix.  Another deep thrust and she comes, letting out a muffled cry, her body tensing in exquisite torment.

You leave the cucumber in her as she calms down.  It takes several minutes before she catches her breath, giving you time to contemplate the next torment.  The arch of her foot is delicate and you use that to gauge her relaxation.  When her foot relaxes, you pull the cucumber out of her body.

Another gasp, this time with longing.  You can only imagine what it must feel like, having been so filled and then so empty.  You give her a moment to rest and then grab the freshly peeled ginger root.  You are well aware that exposure to air decreases its intensity, and you grab your table knife and scrape it down the sides, bringing fresh juice to the surface.  Carefully you place the tip against her clit, rubbing it back and forth for a moment.

At first, all Amanda feels is the pressure and gentle rubbing.  But within a minute it is replaced by a faint tingling.  You see her hips gyrate as the tingling becomes more intense, heating up into a burning sensation.  She lets out a terrified whimper as the imaginary flames roast her clit and you move the ginger root downward.  Her pussy is still a wet gaping hole and you slide the ginger root into her with little resistance.  She groans, feeling the penetration through the fiery agony of her clit.  You thrust the ginger root deep and then extract it completely, tapping it once more against the extended nub of her clitoris.  She begins to thrash in her bonds, her stifled cries rising in pitch and duration.  You plunge the root back into her, letting it sit as the juices irritate her tender well.

In moments she is screaming into the gag.  The noise is lost in the loud thrum of music, not to mention the ball gag she is wearing.  Her toes curl and you watch as she tries to dislodge the ginger.  At the height of her discomfort you tug the root out, tossing it aside, and reach up to your glass of ice water.  Rather than cubes, the ice is shaped into cylinders, as if they expected this.  You snag one of the rods of ice and touch it to her clit.  She lets out another screech as you wash a way the burning juice.  You place your napkin underneath her pussy and drag the icicle downward.  It is as thick as your thumb and you push it up into her sex with little regard for Amanda’s comfort.  It disappears into the hot and burning well, melting away.

For Amanda it is a mixed blessing.  The burning ginger root juice is washed from her body, only to be replaced with the slow freezing torment of ice.  You probe her with a single finger, discovering that the icicle is almost completely gone.  You snag a second cylinder of frozen water and quickly deposit that inside the girl serving as your sexual platter.  Amanda lets out another keening cry and you see goose bumps appear on her skin.  A hand placed upon the petals of her sex informs you that your attempt to cool off a hottie has succeeded.

You pick up the small bowl of hot fudge and tip it over.  A thick stream of dark brown sweetness falls directly onto Amanda’s clit, coating the extended nub perfectly.  She bucks upward, her hips thrusting as the heat sears her.  You keep pouring as the chocolate slides down the petals of her flower and enters the dark juicy and cold hole of her sex.  You see a little bit of steam rise and you laugh in astonishment.  Amanda shakes her head, eyes a little wild, and you realize that her previous encounter with the ice has made the fudge that much hotter. 

In delight you grab a spoon and take a dollop of the cold whip cream and dab it onto both breasts.  She lets out another squeal, her breasts shaking.  You pick up the banana and deftly peel it, opening the fruit until its soft interior is exposed.

Gently, you place the tip at Amanda’s hole and slide it in.  Her own juices, the ginger juice, the ice water, and the hot fudge make its penetration easy.  She groans and you slowly move the banana in and out.  With each thrust she moans and you realize that she is once again feeling the intensity of sexual pleasure.  The banana is ripe, but not overly so, and its firm flesh works to your advantage.  With one hand you pump her, while the other picks up your spoon and begin lightly tapping her chocolate covered clit.

In seconds she’s close to cumming.  You watch her, carefully judging her need.  Just as she is about to pop you ram the banana deep, breaking off the majority of the fruit inside of her body.  She moans as the movement stops and you pull the spoon away from her clit.  She lifts her head, looking at you, eyes begging.  You smile at her and lift your spoon.

With delicate motions you place the edge of the spoon at the top of her slit and drag it downward, catching her clit as you scrape the chocolate from her snatch.  The very end of the banana is still visible, peeking out from between the fudge smeared petals of her sex.  You dig for it, cutting a small piece from the buried fruit.  Amanda rolls her hips.

You taste the delicate flavors: banana, chocolate, hints of ginger and something else…something more musky.  You push the spoon back into Amanda’s hole, digging out another sample.  More of the musky flavor, delicious and sexual.  Your spoon dips deeply for a third, fourth, and fifth sample and you find yourself literally scraping the bowl as you finish cleaning Amanda out.

She lies there twitching, her body confused.  She feels the need of sexual release, of desire, of desperation, but the strange sensation of the spoon scraping her insides, the slow removal of the banana, piece by piece, has not given her the necessary stimulation to explode.  She is trembling and as you lick the last of the chocolate from the spoon, you raise it to her breast and scoop the melting whip cream from her raised nipples.

You sit back in satisfaction.  Amanda is a mess.  White melted whip cream has run in rivulets from each breast like white frosting on a hot bundt cake.  Her thighs are smeared with chocolate and the petals of her sex are swollen, pink, and splayed. 

You motion for the waitress and ask for a clean damp warm towel.  It is brought to you quickly and you gently clean Amanda’s thighs and pussy.  You clean her thoroughly until her breasts and sex are once more pristine.  You part the petals with your fingers and lean downward, running your tongue through her well.  Amanda moans and you sigh with satisfaction.

Life is short, eat dessert first is a good rule to live by, but your hunger has you working over time.  Put the vibrating bullet in Amanda and finish your dinner, letting her stew in sexual agony. (6a)

There is still one toy you haven’t used: the leather sap.  Would it be cruel to end Amanda’s service with a pussy whipping?  You pick up the small tool and grin. (7a)

She’s had enough.  You smile and pat her gently on the knee and motion to the waitress to take her away.  You’ve reconsidered Amanda’s suggestion of going for a massage.  You allow the waitress and Manager to clear away the platter, taking Amanda away for a no doubt necessary break.  Slowly, you stand and move down the hallway toward the massage parlor.  (1d)

As delicious as Amanda was, you ready for something more.  You turn to gaze down at the stage as the manager and waitress clear away the platter, taking Amanda back to the kitchen for a needed break and a shower.  Three girls are dancing away and you study them.  (1c)