Rita’s fingers slid down his back to his ass. Janet rubbed her mound against his body, shifting to brush against his cock, teasing him with the hint of her pussy.

“I want to fuck you,” he growled against her breast.

“You will. When it’s time. When I say. Please me, Max. Let me lead you where we both want to go.”

Rita’s fingers were now between his ass cheeks. She had something slippery and warm on her fingers, something that heated his skin and tingled on contact. She teased his rim, stroking. His attention zeroed in on that, but then Janet’s cunt brushed him again, this time the wet lips sliding provocatively over the head of his cock. He jerked, and in that moment, two of Rita’s fingers slid inside him. His head came up like a startled stallion, buttocks tightening.

“No. What the hell is she doing? Stop.” He twitched, trying to get away from her, but she simply moved with him. As she did, a not-at-all-unpleasant sensation thrummed out from the point where her fingers were. “Fuck.”

“Many straight men enjoy anal stimulation, Max. It’s a mind-blowing experience, I promise you.” Janet’s lips brushed his cheek, that musky gloss scent so near his mouth he reached for it, but she drew back, denying him, teasing him. “Rita is going to strap a dildo inside your ass. Once she does that, I’m going to command you to fuck me. When you bring me to climax, the dildo and my pussy will make you want to come. But you’re going to resist until I give you permission, unlike the other night when you misbehaved. And when I finally, finally say you can come, it’s going to feel better than anything you’ve ever felt.”

Her voice was that mesmerizing croon, like a succubus fucking a man straight into hell and making him long for the fire. She’d push him beyond his limits, because she had that quality to her, but he’d been trained to be pushed beyond his limits, hadn’t he?

Let me lead you where we both want to go. This wasn’t something he’d ever fantasized about, but he admitted that sensation Rita had coaxed from his ass had been unexpected. Maybe the biggest hurdle was getting past the idea of it, that he was bound to the wall, being topped by a woman. He’d known when he agreed to it that the night could go this way, though he’d avoided imagining the details. What had been more important was the intention. He was willing to hand that power over to her tonight, to show her what she was beginning to mean to him.

He understood the blindfold now. That scrap of cloth could help him do something he might not be able to do if he saw himself reflected in her eyes. Accepting the unexpected in oneself was easier without sight, existing in a formless world where she was his one point of contact.

“My nipples are feeling neglected.” She didn’t ask him if he was okay with what she’d just laid out, but how he responded to that simple statement would guide her. It really was like a dance, wasn’t it? He expected she saw it that way in her head, and it was probably why she could lose herself in it. She’d brought him on stage with her, to be her partner.

“What do they look like?” His tone was husky, uncertain and demanding at once. Her fingers slid back through his hair, a caress this time, her fingernails scraping the sensitive skin under his ear.

“You’ve made them swell to the size of cherries. They’re deep, dark red, the flesh around them glistening from your mouth. My breasts are swollen, just like my clit and cunt. I want your cock inside of me.”

He put his mouth back over her left breast, took as much of it as he could, and began to gently suckle. His cock jumped at the sound of her pleased moan. Rita’s fingers were busy, working more of that oil into him. It was an odd sensation, but still not unpleasant. Just disturbing. When she at last pulled out, she lingered to massage more oil into his rim. His hips bucked at the stimulation, his cock spurting pre-come against his Mistress’ thigh. Janet’s hand slid along his length to the point of contact and collected it. When her arm brushed his shoulder, he knew she’d put it in her mouth, tasting him.

The firm rubber head of what he assumed was the dildo was placed against his rim, Rita gripping his buttock.

“Push out against her, Max. And try to relax everything else. Just let it slide in.”

It wasn’t the easiest command he’d ever followed, but he managed it. It wasn’t excessively thick, thank God. Janet was merciful enough to go easy on his virgin ass, but his balls drew up, his cock convulsing as Rita seated the dildo and then strapped it around his thighs and hips, cinching it into place. But on top of that, she also cinched something tight around the base of his cock. Something that made him groan and quiver.

“That will keep you from going off before I command it.”

“I would have held out until your command, Mistress.”

“Even so. I like the way your cock looks, all bound up like that. It makes me wetter. Squeeze down on that dildo, Max. Imagine I’m wearing it, thrusting into you.”

Not an image he ever would have imagined with a woman. He liked to be doing the thrusting, but there was no denying his cock was thick and pulsing, liking whatever that dildo was stimulating. When he squeezed down on it, it got more intense. “Fuck.”

“Thank you, Rita. Please leave us now and close the door after you.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

This time he heard the snick, because he concentrated hard enough on the sound, anticipating when it would happen. Then he turned his attention to better things. His Mistress had brought his head back to her nipples again. She really liked his mouth there, making little whimpering noises to prove it.

“Janet. You’re driving me crazy. I want to fuck you.”

“Show me. Show me how much. I want to feel your strength, Max. Prove how it can take me over, even as it serves me.”

He didn’t stop to think what she might mean. He simply acted. He broke the plastic connections to the wrist cuffs with one fierce yank, released one of the ankle cuffs with another sharp snap of his leg. Catching her ass in one hand, he lifted her up against the wall as he put the other behind her head and neck, making sure he hadn’t shifted her on to the metal hook that tethered his collar to the wall. Then he found her mouth and plunged with teeth and tongue, pushing her skull back into the cup of his hand.

Both of her legs curled around his waist. With the side slit of the sarong all the way to the hip, there was nothing in the way of his other plunge. He’d been right. She wasn’t even wearing an indecently tiny thong under that thin fabric. He’d seen the provocative shadow of her ass, the seam between her buttocks when she left him to go get the blindfold, and now he worked his hand under the fabric so he was clutching flesh when he drove into slick, hot wetness.

He let out a reverent oath, mirrored by her guttural moan, and he was pounding against her, reveling in the sound of her body hitting the wall with sensual impact. He showed her his strength, how it could serve her, just as she said.

That thing in his ass was making things even more crazy intense than they already were. He’d gotten impossibly harder, and the cock ring was starting to cut like a son of a bitch. He wasn’t going to be able to come with it there, an agony that would serve his Mistress to the nth degree, since he was staying titanium hard.

“Your punishment, my pleasure, Max,” she whispered against his ear, his Mistress inside his world of darkness. “I’m going to come, and you’re going to listen, and beg me for the same privilege. But I’ll make you service my pussy with your mouth until I come again, before I even consider it. With that dildo still inside, I’m going to flog you, make your skin burn fiery red. Then, and only then, I’ll let you come. I’ll play with it, push it in and out, and you’ll come into a condom. Your punishment. You get your Mistress’ pussy after that. If you can still get hard at that point.”

“Count on it, Mistress.” He said it between clenched teeth, everything in him worked up, like a battle rage but different, everything driven by the need in his cock, by her scent, by the taunt in her voice that was all seductive cruelty. She wanted to wear him out, wring every ounce of sensation from him, turn him into a mindless fucking machine. Make him let go of his will and serve her with everything he was. Exactly like his instructors had done during Hell Week.

He was going to give it all to her, even more than he’d given to them. And he thought he’d given them everything.

* * * * *

When he’d pulled his cuffs away from the wall, he’d used enough force that one of the metal handles had cracked the sheetrock. She’d pay for that damage, of course, but it had been worth it, on so many levels.

Now she sat on the bull’s-eye chair, studying him. He was on his hands and knees in the middle of the floor, condom rolled onto his aching cock, wrists still in cuffs, locked to each other while he clasped a metal bar embedded in the floor. She’d ordered him to spread his knees and was studying his gorgeous ass, the quivering of his flanks. He’d just come into the condom, and his head was down, forehead pressed to his knuckles. She held the cock ring in her hand, working it around two of her fingers like a tiny hula hoop. It was slick from the sweat off his balls, the lube that had slipped out of his ass, the semen trickling from his cock.

He’d come while she was flogging him. She’d used a medium-weight flogger, knowing his nerves were aroused enough that the slap on his tender inner thighs, the crease between legs and ass, the muscle layers of the upper back, would intensify the sensations as if she was using a heavier weight. She’d driven him to the finish like a drover over a team of wild horses. Reaching down between strokes, she worked off the cock ring, squeezing the thick base of him with deep pleasure, and then started flogging the upper back again.

With the other hand, she’d started to work that dildo in and out, in and out. If she’d tried to fuck him with it earlier, he likely would have frozen, but at that point it was all about the physical sensation. She’d worked him too hard, too relentlessly, for a little macho hang-up like his concerns about sexual orientation to get in the way. He’d convulsed, bucked, his face contorting, and managed to strangle out the words he’d instinctively known to reach for.