Primticipation
A prequel to the Bunny Trilogy; June 3rd 7pm.
He stood there as She had requested, naked apart from the collar and leash and pressed up against the picture window.
He could see the golden vista in front of him- the impossibly green Kent landscape, fed by the incessant winter rains, ran down to the cliffs and the sea beyond. At this time of year the sun had yet to wane, and its honeyed glow coated everything a warming amber. And, he could see also something of his own reflection- hands either side of the window at head height, legs spread wide apart, looking straight ahead. A white man against the green landscape.
An observer in the room would have noticed a few other things as he stood there waiting for Her arrival. For example- the purple head on his jutting cock where he had obediently pulled back its protective foreskin and left his oh-so-sensitive cockhead to bask in the evening glow. And because of that, the long string of gossamer pre-cum, glinting in the sunlight, that made a tiny pool at his feet. It seemed to match the thick chain of his collar, both tethering him breathlessly to the spot.
He wondered how long it would be before he was made to lick that tiny pool clean for Her. He pulsed and oozed some more over the floor at that thought.
He waited. Time passed. A gull hollered somewhere above. Every time he thought he heard Her approaching it turned out to be another guest at the hotel- probably decent, God fearing folk. What would they make of him like this- a once decent, dominant man now long since given over to submission to Her and awaiting his fate at Her hands for the very first time.
It promised to be an interesting three days. Six months in the making, it was to be the culmination of many hundreds of hours of fantasising via email, the only bridge that helped them span the 3000 miles of ocean between them. Were it not for the weekly stolen phone calls, he doubted he would be here. But now he finally was- naked, alone, expectant.
Every voice or click of heels he imagined to be Her. He noticed that each made his cock pulse and his arsehole clench. A little more was added to the reservoir of filth at his feet. She was late. He felt this was part of her ploy - keep him full of yearning, full of rigid expectation, full of warm bubbling cum.
That had met just once- a simple coffee that seemed to last all afternoon. He was amazed at the light in her eyes, the girlish anarchy, the voluminous breasts bulging over her everyday blouse whenever she leant forward to tell him another dirty secret. Somehow that had been enough to feed their relationship for 6 months. And that had led to this. A naked middle aged father and businessman, wearing a dog collar and chain and oozing his way to oblivion all over someone else's parquet flooring.
Suddenly she was there. He hadn't even heard her arrive- just a turn of the room handle (She had insisted he kept it unlocked) and his cell suddenly had a mate. His thigh muscles started to quiver just a little. He noticed his heart rate had suddenly climbed alarmingly. His buttocks clenched and another gobbet of precum made the long journey to the pool at his feet.
Where was She? He could smell Opium - how well named for his addiction to Her - and sense her presence. He knew better than to greet her. He felt She was somehow watching him. Assessing him. Measuring him. She had never seen him naked in the flesh nor seen his erect cock with all its tendrils of sticky webbing. He suddenly felt more exposed with Her in the room than when he was alone waiting for Her.
Then a rustle of her dress, a click of a sharp heel. In the reflection in the window, his white starfish shape now clearly visible as the sun sank lower, he saw Her for the first time in 6 months- or rather he saw Her fantastically greedy, dangerously crimson mouth approaching, and below that her succulent cleavage, adorned with a typically individual and esoteric necklace. He could not see anything more but he felt her feral heat, and could just detect some heavy breathing that for once was not his own.
Suddenly she had knelt behind him. Reaching through his legs she pointed to the growing pool of effluent, incriminating his arousal and his lack of control.
There was one 'tut'. Just one. No other sound but he was aware of her moving away. Was she leaving?? Surely not...even She could not be that cruel.
With relief he heard, instead of Her clicking her way back through the door and up to the car park, the snap of her putting on her (inevitably black) latex gloves. Left first. Always left first, since she had been a nurse a lifetime ago and invaded people's bodies not for fun but as a job. Before She became Prim.
She moved back into view in the window, all lips and tits. He gasped and felt the delicious gas of kinky anticipation rise through his body. Kneeling, she entwined a string of precum around two fingers of her right hand and offered them to him, still out of sight behind him. He sucked it down like the last drink of a condemned man.
He sensed her rise behind him like a stalking animal. He felt her hands snake between his legs, and looking at his cock's reflection in the window, saw the black tarantula of her gloved hand gently, slowly grab his cock and pull it back between his legs, suddenly to disappear from the reflection completely. Instead he felt the delicious tension against the cartilage in his cock and the stress on his groin muscles. She 'tutted' once more and he knew he must have jettisoned more fluid into her latex glove as his cock strained against Her imprisonment.
The start was almost over. He felt her soft, wet tongue, the tongue he had abused himself incessantly thinking of in his bed alone in a country on the other side of the world, work itself up his spine like a playful kitten. He arched his back and purred in response, making the tension on his purple cock now even more seductively painful.
Then suddenly a savage bite, teeth sinking into the muscle of his neck, twisting and clamping and leaving the marks they both knew he craved. He cried out, silhouetted against the setting sun, briefly crucified on the altar of her sadism.
He could almost hear her smile at the noise she had rung from him. She was happy.
She crept just a little close and he felt her breath in his ear, like an approaching Dragon stoking its fires before incineration.
"Well Russell." She said. "Here we are at last."