Slippery When Wet: A Novel (Zane Presents) Read online

  “And what would you like, my darling?” My tone is sultry and hot. The caller starts panting. She has called into the 800 number located on the CONTACT page of my website, Cum Master. A website I created over two years ago after sifting through hundreds of sex sites that catered to lesbian and bi-curious women and realizing that there were a countless number of strong, confident, beautiful women, like myself, who secretly craved surrendering control, who wickedly fantasized about being submissive and unyielding in their quests for unadulterated and blissful pain. The kind of pain that makes them scream out and flinch and thrash about, clutching sheets and gnashing teeth, begging and pleading as they orgasm.

  And through my website, Cum Master, I cater to those same women who love the sweet sting of a whip licking their clits and slits, or the thud-thud of a paddle paddling their pussies, then having a warm tongue lapping up the sweet juices that have gathered around their swollen pussy lips.

  Women who spend their days and nights daydreaming and fantasizing, careening between salacious thoughts and forbidden desires, pleasure and pain, their trust, their orgasms, their throbbing bliss…all at the mercy of me.

  And—with an assortment of floggers, paddles, leather belts, vibrators, dildos, and my long, warm tongue, I deliver—um, after I’ve collected their payment for my services—the best fucking orgasms these women will ever experience, one lick at a time.

  I cross my legs. “Are your panties wet?”

  “Yes. Soaked.”

  I smile. I imagine her cum-stained panties sticking to her lust-drenched hole. The scent of her cunt, warm and wet, wafting through the air, slowly drifting through the vents at her office building where she is calling me from. “I want to stuff them in your mouth, then…” I pause, snatching back her moment of fantasy.

  “Then what?”

  “Tell me how you want me to touch your pussy?”

  Her breath catches. “Surprise me.”

  “Take ’em off. Your panties.”

  “I can’t. Not right now.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “I’m at…” Her voice trails off. “Hold on. Let me go into another room.”

  I smile, envisioning as she struts off, her damp scent trailing behind her. I consider having her—with her porn-star body—beg me to give her the spanking she craves. Miss Creamy loves her lush pussy spanked. She loves punishment fantasies. Loves to let go of her real life lawyer self to indulge in her fetish. All of my clients are beautiful, well-educated, upper-six-figure-making women who use fake names, and have fetishes for pain. It allows, helps, them to detach their real worlds where they tend to be in power and yield control from their fantasy worlds. Allows them to be carefree and uninhibited. It allows them to explore their submissive limits, to uncover that very thin line between pain and pleasure. Being handcuffed, and oftentimes blindfolded, allows them to give in to being powerless, yet liberated. Unshackled from fears, they become slaves to their secret desires. And I possess the key to unlock all of their secret thrills.

  Yes, I give it to them good. Bewildered and painfully aroused, I help my clients explore their deepest, darkest sexual cravings. Then when it’s all said and done, when they’ve been pushed and manipulated sexually, and they’ve climaxed and their roaring cunts have finally quieted, they walk out feeling liberated as they go back to their happily-ever-after lives where much of who they are has become scripted and predictable.

  “Okay, I’m back,” she says, breathing life back into the other end of the phone. “I’ve found someplace a little more…private.”

  “Slap your pussy for me,” I tell her low into the phone, my voice barely above a whisper. “Heat your cunt up. Get it ready for me.” She lets out a soft moan. I hear the faint thud of a hand. “Harder. I want to hear it.” Whap! I close my eyes and envision her raising her hand high and bringing it down against her bald pussy. “Again.” Whap!

  “Uhhh…can you fit me in today?”

  “Why should I? What dirty little things has that greedy little cunt of yours done?”

  “She’s been begging for release.”

  “Does that little pussy throb? Does it ache between your thighs?”

  “Oh, yes. She’s been wet and horny for days, needing you. It’s been excruciating. She’s been a whiny, miserable, horny slut. She needs to be punished, real good.”

  “Has she been fucked?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “She wants to be spread open and spanked.”

  My moist tongue glides over my lips in anticipation. She loves talking about her pussy as if it’s a human being. As if it has a mind of its own and freedom of free will. “Does that horny pussy hole want to be fucked after I’ve spanked it raw?”

  She groans. “Oh, yes…”

  “How many inches do you want me to fuck you with? Seven? Eight? Nine? Oh, no. I know what that filthy little whore of a cunt wants. She wants to be fucked deep, and stretched wide, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “She wants to scream out as she’s being fucked, doesn’t she?”

  “Yes, yes…oh, god, yes…”

  I tell her how I’m going to paddle her pussy until it is saturated with her juices, then fuck her with an eleven-inch purple dildo.

  My legs are spread. My fingers are playing with my clit. My own pussy throbbing as my fingers skim over my clit, then plunge into my wetness. I am surprised at how swollen my lips are. “Smack your pussy again.”

  She does, letting out a soft moan. The sound of her hand going down on her sex is like music to my ears. Instantly, it flames my own excitement, causing the swishing sounds my fingers are making to become louder than my own breathing. My hips pump onto my hand, two fingers lodged deep inside my cunt. I am so wet. Each time I push in or out of my juicy slit, it makes a slurping sound. My knuckles make a slapping noise against the wetness as I finger-fuck myself listening to Miss Creamy play in her own damp sex. Drops of nectar kiss their way down my smooth, toned thighs.

  She takes a deep breath. “I need to see you. You have my pussy so wet. Don’t make me beg for it, please.”

  I grin as salacious thoughts swirl through my head. There’s no other way for me to say this. Miss Creamy is a freak for the paddle. Her pussy, her ass, she loves it smacked and paddled until blood rushes to the surface of her skin and her flesh swells, until she is tender and sore as if she were being rammed mercilessly by a huge cock. That’s the kind of searing pain she enjoys. A few times she’s begged for bruises over her cunt, saying she wanted the sting to last well into the night, or through the week. She wanted to feel the burn as her panties brushed against her sex, a sweet reminder of what she’s endured, of what she’s surrendered to. And, today, at this very moment, there’s no telling how far she will want to go until she steps through these doors.

  “What time can you get here?”

  “I’ll be there in an hour.” She tells me that she needs to change first, then will head over. She disconnects. And then, suddenly, I am coming, loud and hard and strong, my cunt pulsating as I ride the tide, and hot, wet juices flow over my hand.

  Three

  Beneath her long black coat, Miss Creamy is wearing a schoolgirl’s uniform. Her high, C-cup breasts spill out of her white, low-buttoned blouse. Cinched around her tiny waist is a wide, black belt. Her pleated, plaid skirt rides up over her round, voluptuous ass. Her ass cheeks peek from under the hem. She’s either wearing a thong, or nothing at all. Knowing her, it’s the latter.

  I am donned in all black leather—corset, hip-hugging pants and seven-inch platform stilettos. My long ponytail is pulled up over my head, stuffed under a black leather cap. I am sitting in a red leather chair centered in the middle of my sparsely furnished loft with its vaulted-ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows. In my hand is Miss Creamy’s coveted prize—the paddle. I have chosen a black leather paddle for the occasion. Leather paddles feel like a warm burn at contact and do not cause a lot of pain to the skin, in this case
her hungry cunt.

  Leather is sexy. The way it feels. The way it smells. The way it snaps into the skin, and kisses into the flesh. The way it streaks when wet. Oh, yes…there’s nothing more tantalizing than leather, especially when it’s wrapped around a paddle.

  I eye Miss Creamy as she closes the distance between us, her heels clicking against the polished wood floor. In the far left corner of the massive space, there’s a portable leather sling with stirrups. On top of a glass table cart situated next to the sling are wrist restraints, a suede flogger, a black leather strap with a walnut handle used to deliver punishment—or encouragement, depending on the situation, a three-inch and four-inch butt plug, a bottle of Elbow Grease Fusion Silicone Body Glide lube for ass play, and nipple clamps.

  Depeche Mode’s “A Question of Time” plays low in the background.

  “Stop right there,” I say, crossing and uncrossing my legs. A sly grin eases across my lips as the thought of her being completely helpless…and at my mercy comes to life in my mind. I can see it in her eyes, her own excitement at this knowing. I can almost smell the sticky wetness seeping out of her, sliding between her thighs. “Turn around and bend over.”

  She turns around, slow and seductively, then bends over. Her plump ass cheeks peek out from under the hem of her skirt. She wiggles her ass, then makes it clap. I take in the view, licking my lips.

  “Get over here.”

  She turns back around. My clit pulses as she makes her way toward me.

  “You naughty little slut. Is your pussy already creaming for it?”

  She casts her mink-lashed eyes downward, then sheepishly looks up as she murmurs, “Yes.”

  “I can smell you. Your cunt makes my mouth water.” Hands on hips, she stands a few feet away from me, her wet crotch wafting in the air, her pungent scent staining my senses. “You nasty little whore! I see you need a good spanking.”

  I pat my legs.

  Without a word, she knows. I grin to myself as she slowly walks toward me—one heeled foot in front of the other as if she’s walking a tightrope. When she reaches me, she bends over my lap. I flip up her skirt, and catch another whiff of her clean, musky scent. I run my hand over her smooth, round caramel ass, caressing her skin. My mouth waters, staring at her mesmerizing ass. She grinds herself against me.

  I slap her ass. “Don’t you grind that nasty, little pussy on me, you naughty slut!”

  She groans.

  I slap her ass again. My palm slapping against her beautiful ass sends jolts of electricity through me, and a pulsing need pounds between my legs. I feel a warmth flooding through her heating her skin, her ass.

  Whap!

  She moans, lifting and wiggling her hips, then spreading her legs. She wants me to touch her. Wants me to see, feel, how wet she is. She purrs as she lies over my lap and I smack her ass and thighs, soft and sensual at first, then gradually building up to fast, hard strikes, causing her ass cheeks to heat.

  “Oooooh, yes…mmmm…yes, spank it…”

  She raises her ass higher. Begs for more. And I give it to her, faster and harder.

  Pop!

  Pop!

  Whap!

  Her ass cheeks bounce as I alternately smack each cheek, building a rhythm that mimics the sounds of a drum. She screams out. Tells me how hot and tender and huge her ass feels.

  I plant a hand on the back of her head to hold her in place. She moves a hand in attempt to slip it between her legs.

  Whap!

  “Bad little whore!”

  Whap!

  “You don’t move unless I tell you to, understand?”

  Whap!

  “Yes…ohhhh, yesssss…”

  “Your horny cunt doesn’t deserve to be touched. Leave it empty and starved…for now.”

  “Oh, god, please,” she begs and whimpers. “Let me touch my pussy.”

  I smack her ass, again.

  “No.”

  “Mmmmm…my pussy’s throbbing…please…”

  Whap!

  “Please, what?”

  “Let me touch…” Whap! “…uh, my pussy…”

  “What about that bad, nasty pussy? You want it paddled?”

  “Yes! Mmmm…paddle my clit…paddle my pussy…”

  I forcefully bring my hand down across her ass in rapid successions. “Beg for it, Miss Creamy! Tell me what a whore you are for the paddle.”

  Whap!

  Whap!

  “Oh, god, yes! I’m such a dirty, fucking whore for it, baby. My pussy loves the paddle. It gets so wet for it. I want you to fuck me with the handle, then paddle me good.”

  I spank her ass harder, feeling my own body heat and my juices flow through me. My anxious pussy feels closed in and bound by panties that have already seeped up between my puckered, wet pussy lips, and the constraints of my leather pants. My whole body tingles excitedly and comes alive by the vibrations caused each time my hand comes down on her now red and bruised ass. Every time my hand smacks down, Miss Creamy rises up to meet it, eagerly. She grinds her hips against my leather-covered thigh.

  I can tell she’s on the edge. Each slap, each grind, bringing her closer to climax. She is moaning and groaning and begging, winding her hips. “Please,” she whimpers desperately. “My pussy needs it…I need it…Oh, god, I’m coming…”

  Her hips crash against my thigh as my hand comes down on her ass. She screams. Her body shudders. She is panting. Her breathing becomes erratic. I smile, plunging two fingers into her cunt. She gasps. She’s sopping wet. Her slick lips suck in my fingers. Finger-fuck her spot until her body is convulsing again. I take her to the edge, then swiftly pull out, leaving her drenched cunt vacant.

  “Now you’re ready for the paddle,” I whisper, offering her my cum-slick fingers. She feasts on them, then slowly lifts up from my lap. Her pussy has left a pool of juices over my legs, leaving the leather shiny and wet.

  Without prompting, Miss Creamy leans into my lap, extends her tongue, and laps at the wet leather, cleaning up her cum, then struts over toward the red leather chaise across the other end of the room. I smile lovingly at the emblazoned handprints on her ass; her caramel-colored skin now crimson.

  I eye her as she lies back, spreads her thighs, then bends her knees back. I lick my already wet lips. My excitement, the heated scent of her lust, and the feel of the paddle in my hand, pushes my own libido into overdrive.

  I stand up. My cunt is still pounding from this morning’s sexathon with Sasha. We had started our passionate lovemaking session around three A.M., in the sixty-nine position with Sasha beneath me, licking around my plump, thick lips, then using her fingers to pull me open and dart her tongue in and out of my slit as I covered the mouth of her pussy with my own hot mouth. I used my jaw muscles, feverishly sucking and pulling, trying to suck the cream out of her. I wanted her to shoot into my mouth, the way I was shooting into hers. A rushing gush of wetness flooding her mouth, coating her lips and chin as her tongue unerringly found my clit, and began lapping and nibbling it, her hands stroking between my legs, spreading my wetness over my lips, a thumb pressing into my ass. I shuddered, coming again.

  Mmmm…

  An early morning romp of pussy eating, followed by intense fucking is how Sasha and I usually start our day, with either me dominating and her being the submissive or vice versa. Our hungry need to please shows in the way we stroke and ride and grind each other.

  This morning, after almost two hours of oral pleasure, we ended our last round with my legs up over her shoulders and her pushing nine thick inches of a golden brown cock into my overflowing sea of juices. I offered up my beautiful fat pussy for her pleasure, and she reveled in the sight of it before plunging in. I gasped and dug my nails into her back as she pounded my insides. Her breasts pressed against mine, she grinded her hips into my bucking pelvis, my tight cunt gripping the dildo as it pistoned in and out, my pussy lips sucking along its length. Her dick plunged in deep and fast.

  “Oh, god, yes! Fuck me! Fuck me
!”

  I was so turned on—as I always am—by the slick sound and smell of my deliciously fucked cunt caused by Sasha’s dick hitting my spot just so.

  She cupped the underside of my ass and rammed in and out of me, fucking me faster and deeper with each thrust, the slap of skin, the squishy-sounds of juices coupled with grunts of lust egged her on until her lusciously thick strap-on inched out of my cum-wetted cunt and finally found its way into my ass, stretching it open.

  I gasped. Sasha fucked me. Slowly at first, pushing deeper with each thrust. When she cupped my left breast, then bit down on my nipple, a piercing heat shot through me, causing my asshole to open wider and wetter. I was burning with desire, welcoming Sasha’s thrusts into my ass as I breathed in shallow gasps.

  And as quickly as she had invaded my ass, she swiftly attacked my pussy with a thick, veiny, ten-inch flesh-colored dildo, ramming it into my soppy hole. “Oh, god, yes! Mmmph…oooh, oooh, ooooh…uh…yes, yes, yes…”

  “You love it in your ass?”

  “Yes!”

  “You love both of your holes fucked?”

  I grunted. I was being fucked speechless. Sasha knows my body well. Knows how to deliver the right amount of pain to take me over the edge. She rhythmically worked the dildo and strap-on in me, causing me to grab at her breasts, pull them into my mouth and ravish them, licking and sucking and biting down on her nipples.

  Both holes stuffed and overheated, my clit burned and sent sparks shooting through my asshole. I came again and again and again. Screaming out Sasha’s name, my nails raking along her back. She groaned and grunted, rolling off of me, leaving my asshole gaping. I pushed the dildo out of my pussy, then impulsively ran my tongue up and down the big realistic-looking phallus, savoring my tangy flavor.

  She smiled at my dazed look, then inched up on her forearms. “Well, I guess I better get ready to catch my flight.” She was heading back to her home in Santa Monica for three weeks.