When he was satisfied André said, "You are very good, Elizabeth. You know what to do. I want you to continue these actions, but now you are to fuck me with your ass, you understand? Impale your hot tight ass on my cock and then when it is deep inside, as deep as it can go, you will squeeze hard. Then move off my cock and so on. You go at the pace I have set, you can do this?"
"Yes Sir," she said and she did.
André stood still while Elizabeth fucked him, pushing her beautiful ass up, taking him inside her and each time squeezing his cock hard. Holding her braid in one hand, and carefully fondling her clit and pussy with the other, he made her move in slow, measured strokes. Because of the concentration it took, Elizabeth didn't climax. Instead both of them remained on the cusp of ecstasy.
Long timeless minutes passed.
André reflected that what they were doing was like a Buddhist exercise or mindfulness contemplation. His mind and body confronted contradictory sensations: to take – to give; to resist - yet to yield; to submit - yet to refuse to give in to orgasm. Delirious with pleasure, time stood still for André.
He came to himself suddenly, unaware of how long he had been standing there, absorbing and enduring such pleasure. He couldn’t even explain what had suddenly recalled him to his senses. André found his hands gently resting on Elizabeth's hips and could not recall having let her braid go, or having put them there. How much time had passed? Experienced Dom that he was, he had lost all awareness and control during sex. Somehow, for some odd reason this worried him not at all.
This was divine. It was intimate. It was profound, and if he had been told that this was what it was like in heaven, he could well believe it. How had he come to this mystical world? This strange euphoric state? It was a place that he had never heard of, a place only saints and poets might have imagined.
"Elizabeth?' he said, looking into her dreamy, heavy lidded, lust filled eyes in the mirror.
"Yes, Sir?" Her voice was soft, yet euphoric. André knew she was joyously transported to be serving him as she was, awed to be giving him such pleasure, and to be receiving such pleasure. All power exchange was altered, for right now, he was under her control. Again, this did not bother him. Yet it should.
"Mon cher," André whispered, "tell me how it is with you? What do you feel?"
All the while Elizabeth didn't stop. She continued as she had been bidden, pushing herself, impaling herself upon his cock, then when he was deep inside of her, squeezing him firmly. Then drawing away, letting him pull out of her tight ass, almost to the sensitive rim of her flesh. It was very slow, extremely deliberate and it took complete concentration. André felt that for both of them, sex in this manner was like a form of delicious, sensual meditation.
"Sir," she said in a tone of awe. "It's pure bliss. I am on the cusp of orgasm, yet I'm in full control. I have never experienced such pleasure. It is beyond anything."
"For me, also," he said. "And yet while our spirits are willing, our flesh cannot continue like this. Je regrette we must leave this heavenly plane mon cher, and return to our base desires."
Suddenly disconcerted, and wanting to regain his customary dominance, André said, "Stop now." Then, holding her hips still, he pulled out of her.
Elizabeth gave a little sound of protest. This was not surprising, he thought, for neither of them had climaxed.
Focusing upon her physical needs, André determinedly set aside the profound experience he had just had. While he didn't understand exactly what had happened, he needed a breathing space in order to get back into control. Attending Elizabeth's after care would manage that. Opening the side table drawer again, he found another anal syringe and inserted it, squeezing the bulb.
"Oh!" she said.
"It is only more lubricant and an herbal…" André broke off and said, "Je ne sais pas, how do you say? Oh, I do not know the word but it soothes abused tissue, mon cher. It feels good?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Bon." He then took an antiseptic cream and rubbed it on her buttocks, mainly to soothe the three angry red welts. Afterwards he lay her down on her stomach by simply picking her up and shifting her to where he wanted her. "Do not move," he ordered. His cock was at half mast when he went into the bathroom and pulled three towels from the warming cupboard, bringing a Shea butter moisturizing cream. When he put the towels over her body she moaned. He straddled her back then, careful not to touch her bruised backside, and began to massage her shoulders and neck with the cream.
"Mon cher, what did you think of anal sex?"
"Thank you, Sir," her voice was muffled by a pillow. "You said I would thank you after you had taken me in the ass. Jesus. Thank you, thank you. I had no idea. It was everything you said it would be. Better in fact. It was divine."
"Just so, I agree," he said. His skilled hands finished with her shoulders and neck, and moved down to her thighs and calves. As she had been on her tip toes during her spanking these were tight, and Elizabeth purred with pleasure at his thorough after care. "But Elizabeth, did you not find that it was a little too divine, yes? Me, it was very good but while not wrong, it was not precisely right."
What we did together was too intimate, too spiritual, he thought. This woman, this wife should share such a connection with her husband, Mark. Not me.
André, having finished with her body, sat beside her and examined her cuffed wrists. "With you mon cher, I am happy to be the animal, with animal needs, and hungers. Sex is strange – it is not unlike food." He took her hands in his, gently turning them palm side up, discovering a desire to kiss each little palm. He ignored the impulse. There had been too much intimacy already. He began to give her a hand massage, rubbing moisturizer into them, taking his time with each small finger.
"Elizabeth, food is very important if you do not have it - not so important if it is available in endless supply. Yet I firmly believe that without sexual intimacy, without skin to skin contact we are something less than human, mon cher."
Elizabeth, resting on her forearms, had been giving him all her attention. She tilted her head and studied him with penetrating blue eyes and an intuitive, compassionate expression.
André mentally flinched from her knowing look. There was a long moment of silence and then he laughed. "Mon Dieu, listen to me! It is usually the woman that talks nonsense after sex."
Elizabeth giggled and the sound was a delight, honest and pure. André suddenly understood why he stopped the tantric anal experience he had accidentally fallen into: it was too intimate. It brought them too close. She belonged to another, and yet he had begun to know her too well, to connect too fully. This was always a possibility in his work, one for which he had carefully protected himself.
What did he feel for this woman, this giving, generous wife of the angry man Mark? His heart gave a tug, a little pang of anguish for the one thing missing in his life. He cared for her, yes, he cared for all of his clients - it could only be so. How else would he be able to understand them enough to help them? Yet this petite powerhouse had touched him.
It is love I feel for her, André thought with shattering insight. And this cannot be. Can never be. Fire began to rise within him, a burning, angry heat. Imbécile! imbécile! he mentally chastised himself, succumbing to an instant rage.
It was time for the animal, not the man.
18. Animal Anal
The Dom in him came to the fore, saving himself from such foolish, irresponsible and dishonorable imaginings. "Up now, Elizabeth," he said harshly. "On your hands and knees on all fours, ass in the air, rest on your forearms."
"Yes, Sir," Elizabeth said, complying instantly with wide, surprised eyes.
He wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling it tight and she gave a little cry. "Keep your eyes on me in the mirror while I take my pleasure, Elizabeth. Now I fuck your ass as it should be fucked."
"Yes, Sir," she said.
André saw a combination of fear and lust in her eyes at this rapid change of pace, yet she could keep up with him. The w
oman knew him now, for there was a connection. If he beat her silly and only pleased himself she would still be content, because she trusted him. The caring went both ways and it made him angry and wild with unrestrained need. He wanted to keep her, to take her captive forever and make her his. And he wanted to punish her for being so perfect, and for engaging his heart against his will.
"I will ride you rough and fast," he growled. "I won't be gentle. Open for me now, and prepare yourself, Elizabeth, for I am going to thrust into you hard." He squeezed her round buttocks fiercely, wrenching them open wide and she screamed out and whimpered, yet even this had further aroused her. The woman was dripping with the inherent desire to serve him in whatever way he wished. It made his blood boil. With one hand he guided his cock to her entrance.
Taking her braid in his hand, and holding one hip with the other, with very little restraint he drove inside her. Elizabeth screamed, but André wasn't worried, for she had opened her tight ring for him and fuck! Her taut heated passage felt so good.
This time the anal sex they shared was unrestrained and primitive - it was not the sex of close communication and love. André did not intend to fall into that trap again – instead his hungry soul intended to dominate her and take, take, take. He slapped her butt cheeks hard, and pulled her hair, and fucked her as fast and forcefully as he could, savagely erasing kindness or care, in an effort to please himself alone.
It was an attempt to relieve his loneliness — that terrible aching loneliness he had only just become mindful of after that intense connection with Elizabeth. He wanted to be brutal with her, to drive away his shivering conscious awareness. For despite his lifestyle, despite everything he had achieved, he still faced the world by himself. André, without a companion of the soul, had to confront the unfathomable abyss of life alone.
Enraged with his own stupidity, André was furious with her. With unbridled, ruthless fervor he hammered himself into her, burying himself in sensation.
"Out! Oui! Move for me, push that tight little ass up against me. Oui! Just like that," he said with another slap to her red buttocks. "Fuck I cropped your ass well, didn't I? I still feel the heat of it. You want my cock to pound into you, don't you? Because you're a slut. A horny little slut who will do anything for my hot cum."
He slapped her again, watching her face in the mirror. "Tell me, Elizabeth. Are you a horny little slut? A slut that would do anything for cum?"
"Yes! Yes, Sir!"
"You want my cum in your tight little ass, n'est-ce pas?" He said savagely. "You want to drink it, to eat it, to swim in my seed, don't you?"
"Oh, God, yes! Yes, Sir!" she shrieked.
Elizabeth began to make unceasing noises, keening sobs that could have been pleasure or pain. "Ah, ah, ah, oh!" she wailed and shrieked, bucking and squirming beneath his demanding body. André saw that tears were falling from her now, streaming down her face, and this did not surprise him nor did it disturb him. These were tears of release. Such was frequently the case when violating a woman's ass for the first time - there was often so much emotion bound up in this forbidden area.
"Do you want it now, Elizabeth?" André went on relentlessly. "I am pounding your ass so hard, and fuck it feels good. Shall I empty myself, my thick hot streams of cum, deep inside you?"
A raw moan tore from Elizabeth's throat. Still valiantly attempting to meet his eyes in the mirror, she opened and closed her mouth but seemed quite unable to answer. Her blue orbs, André saw, were heavy lidded and dark with extreme pupil dilation. Other than pulling her hair or slapping her derrière, he had no intention of touching even her breast - much less her pussy. The woman would climax instantly, and he wanted this to last.
With primitive satisfaction, André growled. For right now she was his, completely in thrall to his desire. If she was being whipped with a bull whip, with her skin being flayed from her bones, André knew that he could still make her climax, using only his command to do so.
"But it doesn’t matter if you want my cock hammering into your ass, does it, Elizabeth?" André thrust on, unyielding and remorseless. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he intentionally pushed her to fever pitch. "You are mine to do with as I will. You are chained to this bed and have no choice, do you, you little anal slut?"
Elizabeth cried out and stiffened underneath him at these erotic words. André felt her body - a tense ball of need - give a hard shudder. He recognized the unrestrained urgency in her eyes, they fairly blazed with frantic desperation as she heroically tried not to come. Elizabeth thrashed and jerked like a wild animal. André, not unlike riding a bucking bronco, held on tight while waves of sensation moved through him, all culminating in the erotic pleasure that pulsed within his balls, his groin and his engorged cock.
"Beg me, Elizabeth. Beg me to come in your ass," he demanded.
"Please, Sir, please!" she wailed. "Oh God, please, I beg you, Sir, please!" she began to chant over and over in a mindless trance of pleasure.
He wanted to fuck her ass forever, to make her take it all, take everything he wanted to give her. André swore viciously as he realized he was going to climax and could do nothing to prevent it. Watching her breasts shake and rock as he pounded into her, seeing her under him, chained to his will, knowing that for now she was wholly his was more than he could take.
"Come for me, Elizabeth," he choked out in a hoarse voice he could hardly recognize, jerking her head up by her braid. "I want to see you come with my cock up your ass."
Yet despite his vaunted control, André came first.
19. Connection
He stared into Elizabeth's sex-glazed eyes, rejecting all connection, yet looking for... something. Chest heaving, pushed beyond his limits, dismayed at his lack of self-control, André felt the familiar sudden sensation of cramping then release of the internal muscles of his groin, as well as the lower abdominals. Consequently with his next brutal stroke, he climaxed just before Elizabeth did.
His head flew back and his hips thrust forward as he convulsed.
As he released, electric heat exploded within. This pleasurable sensation extended out in a powerful rush, into the tendons of the upper thighs, the lower buttocks, back, shoulders, thighs, waist and abdominals. His orgasm was so extreme that the exquisite pleasure registered almost as pain, yet the torturous agony of it was superb.
Elizabeth, moaning and keening, blinked, and then shrieked. Her scream continued, unbroken, like the anguished wail of inevitability.
Deep inside her, André felt her internal muscles grip him, exerting a fierce powerful pressure that squeezed his cock in contracting waves, milking his seed. Astonished and amazed, he ejaculated violently and repeatedly, with terrific volume and velocity. All control fled, as he thrust and pounded in a primal animal reaction to the frenzied thrill of intense pleasure.
Unable to contain such rapturous torment, André voiced an awe-filled volley of crude French oaths. Impulsively he bent over and bit Elizabeth hard between her neck and shoulder. Together they both came and came and came.
André's deep breaths turned to shudders as he returned to earth. He could not recall a more powerful orgasm - nor one that seemed so endless. At one point, he was certain that he was continuing to ejaculate past the point of having any cum to spray. The fierceness of his climax had made him wonder if he might pass out.
At the finish, while he had worked to take, take, take, André could wrest nothing from Elizabeth. For the woman – une femme ideal - big hearted and sexually generous to a fault had already openhandedly given him everything. And she did so willingly, without self-consideration, or restraint. One could not force or steal what was freely given. Elizabeth understood this. She was a treasure, this small clever woman. And while innocent of the exact details of his life, she knew him better than anyone else in the world.
I spend my life knowing and helping women, he thought. Yet this woman alone knows me. Yet she cannot help me. He sighed. And she knows this, too.
For a long time André lay
heavily upon Elizabeth's back, well aware that he should get off and uncuff her. Yet instead he kissed and nuzzled her neck and shoulders, softly stroking her skin, petting her again and again and again.
"Good girl," he whispered affectionately over and over. "You are such a good girl, mon cher."
20. Elizabeth's Realization
Who is this person I have become? Elizabeth thought, unable to recognize herself. Yet this sexual being had always been with her. She had denied that part of her personality, and ignored it, and buried it – but it could not be vanquished, for it was the real her.
Elizabeth lay nestled with her head on Sir's chest. Completely naked, sore and thoroughly used, she was in a warm, happy daze. Never had she experienced such an intense, explosive, mind-blowing orgasm. They just kept getting better and better.
The garters and stockings were gone, she had been washed and cosseted and fed. Once again she was chained to the bed with only one ankle cuff. This captor of hers had vowed to care for her and he certainly was fulfilling that promise. Sir was slimmer than Mark, and he had pulled her into his arms so closely that as they lay together on the bed, she was almost completely draped across him.
"Sir," she said. "May I speak?"
"You may speak freely, mon cher," he replied, still stoking her hair. The man had undone her braid and never seemed to tire of stroking her hair. It was comforting and relaxing and she certainly wasn't going to make any attempt to stop this wonderful quirk of his. "And my name is André," he said. "André Chevalier."
"Your name is André?" she asked, taken by surprise that he would openly tell her who he was.
When he looked down at her his smile was warm. "Yes. Do you know that I have had an irrepressible desire to hear my name on your sweet lips, Elizabeth? And I like the sound of it. Say it again. Say my name."
"André. André Chevalier," she repeated obligingly. She was going to ask him why he had told her this, but she already knew why, so she said nothing. Both of them knew, but in tacit agreement, they had not spoken about the large, uncomfortable elephant in the room. "André Chevalier," she whispered once more, and he gave her a tight hug.