The Collector (5 page)

I’ve known this young man via a mutual friend for a while now, and I must confess that I had always been a little curious about him. When an opportunity arose to get to know him a little better, I grasped it willingly. It had been way too long since my last man, and anyway, I take my collecting very seriously.

‘Nice rocking chair.’
‘Thanks. It was a birthday present.’ I watched as he explored the
contents of my bedroom; the drawers under the bed, the clutter on
the window sills; everywhere.
From my rocking chair I watched as his slightly dated, almost
foppish hair, fell over his eyes as he lent down to a large battered
trunk at the foot of my bed. He was like a little boy searching for
treasure.
‘What’s in here?’
I didn’t reply, just gestured for him to open it and find out. I
wish I’d had a camera to capture the wide-eyed expression on his
face as he creaked back the heavy lid. ‘Is this stuff all yours?’ I couldn’t decide if he was freaked out by his discovery or
amazed that the nice girl he’d just spent several hours sat next to at a
mutual friends’ dinner party had a large assortment of sex toys
within easy reach of her bed.
‘Yes. All mine.’ He plunged both hands into the trunk and
rummaged about. After a minute or two of happy hunting he pulled out a nicely weighted black paddle: leather coated with a short
handle.
‘My favourite weapon of choice,’ he declared, ‘simple but
extremely effective, don’t you agree?’
My heart began to beat a little faster. I had come to the decision
early on in the evening that I was going to have sex with this man.
Only now did I see it was going to be even more fun than I had
previously thought.
‘I have another favourite actually.’ He raised his eyebrows at me
questioningly. ‘Maybe I’ll show you later, if you like? If you’re good.’ ‘I’m intrigued,’ he smiled as he pulled an assortment of toys
from the box. Masks, chains, chuffs, whips, dildos and more. ‘I seem
to have walked into a fetishist’s heaven?’ He made the statement a
question. I ignored it, smiled and continued to rock back and forth
in my chair, watching him behave like a child in a sweet shop. ‘Would you like a drink?’ I reverted to hostess. I didn’t want
him to reach the toy hidden at the very bottom of the box. That was
for later. I knew I had to use it on him, and it would be even better
if it was a total surprise
‘Please. It was a nice dinner party, but not nearly enough
alcohol.’
‘I agree. Red or white?’
As I poured out the red wine he’d requested, I acknowledged to
myself that once again this would be a one off thing. Sad really, I
could like this guy, but sex was already out there. It was too late.
Once I had allowed him to discover my treasure there had been no
going back. ‘Fine; so let’s make the most of it,’ I muttered to myself
as I drank some of my wine before topping up my glass and carrying
them both out of the kitchen.
I found him in the living room sifting through my DVD
collection. Frankly I would have been more impressed if I’d caught
him looking at the vast collection of books which lined the walls, but
you can’t have everything. I passed him his drink.
‘Good collection.’ He had obviously expected wall to wall
romance, with perhaps the odd comedy thrown in, not a catalogue of sex and violence. After his earlier discovery perhaps he shouldn’t
have been so surprised.
‘Hey, you’ve got porn. How cool are you?!’ he beamed. This guy
might have reached the age of 28, but he was obviously clinging
onto teenage-hood as hard as he could. He was acting as if he’d just
found an old and much loved copy of
Mayfair
under his bed. ‘I’ve
never met a girl who had porn DVDs before.’
‘Of course you have.’ I took his glass back off him and placed it
next to mine on the fire place. ‘You just haven’t met one who has
them on display before.’
‘Perhaps.’ I had shifted the mood on an hour, and to his credit
he didn’t question my decision.
‘Tell me,’ I asked as I took his hand, ‘that paddle you were
admiring earlier, did you imagine yourself giving or receiving?’ He regarded me closely, as if he was making a tough decision.
‘Actually I enjoy both. But at that particular moment, judging by
the rest of the gear you have stashed away, I wondered what it would
be like to be under your control.’
As he spoke he lowered his bright blue eyes meekly and hung his
arms loosely at his sides. He had obviously played this game before. I
swallowed down my delight, and studied his subservient posture for
a minute. My mind was full of possibilities; but I knew exactly
where to start.
‘I think we should lose that t-shirt.’ He didn’t move so I
adopted a sterner voice. ‘Take it off.’
‘Please, Miss.’ He avoided looking at my face; concentrating on
my bare feet instead.
‘What is it boy?’ I gave up being nice; he obviously didn’t want
me to be. Just as well really, considering what I ultimately had in
mind.
‘Make me. Please, make me.’
I hadn’t been able to disguise my smile as delicious sparks of lust
shot down my spine. I allowed myself a split second of weakness
before I reclaimed my dominant position and barked, ‘Take it off
you lazy bitch.’
His cheeks flushed as my orders cut into the otherwise silent
room. He tugged the white cotton over his head in one swift
movement. Keeping his eyes cast down, he shuffled a little closer. ‘That’s better’. I took his hand and led him to the bedroom,
where I stood him in front of the treasure box. ‘Such disobedience is
not permitted in this house,’ I opened the trunk. ‘I think some
punishment is due.’ I held his chin firmly between my fingers and
lifted his head so he could look into my eyes. ‘What do you think,
bitch?’
‘Yes ma’am. I should be punished ma’am.’ He looked down
again. This boy could act. I felt my body responding to the tension
which sizzled between us. He was waiting to see what I’d pull from
the box. I knew what I wanted to do; but not yet. This situation was
too good to rush.
‘I’d like you to sit in the rocking chair and shut your eyes until I
tell you what to do next.’ He went. He sat. He closed his eyes. I pushed the heavy trunk away from the end of the bed so that I
could walk all the way around it. Then, glancing at him to ensure his
eyes were shut, I took out a selection of instruments I might need,
and a few more I would not. I wasn’t entirely sure exactly what I’d
use, but I knew what effect seeing a pile of whips, masks and nipple
clamps would have when he saw them heaped on the bed. I hid my end game toy under the duvet and shut the trunk’s
hard lid. Then I took off all my clothes and slipped on my much
loved PVC bodice; pulling the laces tight so that my breasts stuck
provocatively over the top. Then I eased on my long shiny black
boots. I could feel the power surging through me as I donned my
mistress attire. I didn’t bother with knickers; they’d only get in the
way.
When I was ready I separated out a long belt that I kept with
my other treasures, and slid it under the trunk so that an end stuck
out either side of the its width. I picked up a whip. I might have
looked like a stereotypical dominatrix from the front of a porn mag,
but I felt incredible as I regarded my intended victim. He had no
idea what was coming next, and that knowledge alone caused my
already turned on body to ache for some attention of its own. I took a gulp of air and ignored my rising need. It was time to have some
fun.
‘Open your eyes and come here.’
He stood, and I was gratified to see that my outfit had the
desired effect. His already stiff dick visibly swelled beneath his jeans.
I pointed at his bulge with the whip ‘I think we’d better lose those
trousers.’ This time he obeyed instantly ‘and the boxers.’ His white
pants hit the deck so fast that I had to stifle a grin. He was gorgeous.
Not too toned. No horrible over-worked six-pack, just a dick which
I had to force myself not to kneel in front of straight away. Tasting
how luscious he was, was going to have to wait.
‘Good boy.’ I trailed the whip down his chest and felt him
quiver beneath its touch, before throwing it onto the bed. ‘Now, as
you can see I have extracted a few items from my box of treasure.’ He flicked his eyes towards the pile of toys. His face paled but
he didn’t flinch and he didn’t ask questions.
I picked up a long pink ribbon and tickled his balls with its
slightly frayed end. Then, ignoring his sharp intake of breath, I
wrapped one end around them, knotting the fabric loosely, so that it
would tighten slightly if I pulled the other end, which I held like a
long lead. I gave the ribbon a gentle experimental tug. He gasped as
his eyes stared at what I had done to him. He looked beautiful.
Pretty in pink.
I pointed to the trunk. I knew he understood, but he wanted
telling. ‘On your knees. Now.’ He knelt before me, his face
tantalizingly near my pussy. I have no idea how I resisted ordering
him to start licking. Instead I told him to lie across the trunk. His head and neck hung down, causing his hair to brush the
carpet. He had to support himself by placing his lower arms on the
floor. His legs crouched down at the foot of the trunk, exposing his
back and buttocks to whatever whim I chose, the long ribbon
hanging between his parted legs. I gave him just enough time to
realise how uncomfortable he was before I took the ends of the
leather belt and drew them together, buckling him tightly to the
trunk.
His shocked gasp as he found himself pinioned was wonderful. I
guess he’d been expecting cuffs or chains, not a thick leather belt
across the small of his back. Now I really did wish I had a camera
handy. He looked fantastic. I ran a single finger along the edges of
the belt, tickling his smooth trapped skin. I listened with satisfaction
as he sighed under my touch.
I grabbed the ribbon lead and began to trail it across his arse.
First over one cheek, then the other, before very slowly slipping it up
and down his crack. I tugged it slightly with each movement,
increasing the pressure on his squashed balls. His arse puckered like
a hungry mouth; he was already opening for me. Excellent. I dropped the ribbon and went around to his face. Picking up a
long cane, I held it under his chin, forcing him to look up at me.
The blood had run to his head, but his arms were still holding him.
He must have been stronger than he looked. ‘This,’ I said, flexing
the cane between my fingers, ‘is my favourite method of correction.’ His eyes pleaded with me, but I wasn’t sure if he was willing me
to hurry up and hit him, or if he wanted me to show some mercy. ‘I
know you prefer the paddle, so, in the interests of fairness, I have got
that handy too.’ This time he visibly winced.
I knelt and kissed his beautifully flushed face, before returning
to his backside. I smoothed the end of the cane against his arse, and
then flicked it at him lightly, listening to the neat cracking noise it
made.
That was enough preparation. Besides, if I’d had to wait much
longer I would have run the risk of losing control. I raised the cane
and whacked it down onto his right buttock. He yelled into the
carpet. I followed it with another smack, and another, and soon I
was wishing that I’d pulled a gag out of the trunk before I’d tied him
to it.
The collection of stripe marks against his flesh grew as his howls
increased in volume. Finally he cried out. ‘Please!’ But he didn’t ask
me to stop.
I dropped the cane and took up the paddle, bringing it down
hard across his hot red arse. He yelped, but his cries had lost their
agonised edge. He had reached cross-over. Any minute now he’d be begging me to release him so he could thrust himself into my
collected but quietly desperate body.
I continued to administer his beating with one hand, and began
to finger myself with the other.
After a while, I abandoned the paddle, and was rewarded by his
groan of loss as the pain stopped. I knelt down and traced a sticky
finger over his dark rim. It rippled beneath my touch as I pushed a
digit just inside the grasping lips.
‘Oh God!’ His grunted shout was my signal to pull my hidden
strap-on from beneath the duvet and clip it into its vinyl belt. He
was trying to rub himself off against the trunk, but I knew my
business and the belt held him firm. He’d get no relief that way. I stroked my fake penis between my legs, lubricating it with my
own juices, before clicking it onto the belt. If he had any doubts
about what I was about to do, I dismissed them by pressing myself
against his arse, cramming the plastic cock between his yielding
cheeks.
He groaned deeply, and I could see sweat start to prickle across
his back. Pushing down harder, I was soon engulfed and imagined
how his trapped stomach would be contracting as he struggled
between pleasure, pain and holding onto the contents of his bowels. I relished in the feeling of power as I lay on top of his back and
began to set the pace, ramming in and out of him as slowly as I
could bear. With each movement I scraped the edge of the leather
belt against my clit. Bliss.
As his growls turned to moans he cried out. ‘I can’t hold on.
Fuck me harder!’ I did as I was told and began to thrust in and out
of him as fast as I could, whilst yanking the ribbon hard so that it
dug into his trapped balls. My bodice stuck to his back as our
combined perspiration sucked us even closer together. I could feel
the build up of my own climax wash over me as he roared into the
carpet.
I eased out, enjoying the slurping sound his arse made as it
contracted with loss. I threw off my dick and undid the belt. His
arms were shaking as I pulled him to his feet, releasing his swollen balls from the damp ribbon. I admired his dripping cock, which was
still covered in the creamy spunk he’d shot all over my trunk. He looked at me with undisguised greed; all submission gone.
He tugged open the laces of my bustier and freed the under-sides of
my breasts. As he attacked my tits with his mouth I realised I had
been quite wrong. This was not the only experience of his company
I was going to have. Picking up two ropes, he pushed me into my
rocking chair, and licked me to a second shuddering climax. As he tied my arms to the chair’s arm rests, I wondered how
many stories I was going to get out of my new acquaintance before
we had worked our way through the entire contents of my treasure
box.