AMATEUR XXX STORIES
-
ALPHABETICAL SEX STORY LISTINGS:
A -
B -
C -
D -
E -
F -
G -
H -
I -
J -
K -
L -
M -
N -
O -
P -
Q -
R -
S -
T -
U -
V -
W -
X -
Y -
Z
BROWBEAT sucking leisurely dick
Disclaimer:(standard) Do not screw up. Do not do anything illegal.
This includes specifically (but not limited to) reading on if you are
under 18- 21 in some localities If you are underage you must leave
now. If you're and curious, this is not the place to get the
straight story. You act like this and people will look at you strange
and give you a wide berth. Also, don't try this at home. Some of this
stuff is just plain wrong, most of it is unsafe in the present viral
climate and some of it doesn't work in this universe. They are stories.
They deal with ideas, fantasies and thoughts that might not even be
pleasant in real life. Thoughts are like that. Fantasies are there so we
can toy with the sensations without feeling or inflicting the pain,
despair or humiliation. End Sermon.
Browbeaten
Note: One of my favorite places is Simon Bar Sinister's Mind
Control Archive (mcstories.com). In the archives you can find
examples of control by hypnosis, magic, drugs, mental powers, etc.
with many degrees of control represented. This then is an homage to
that type of story, but with a twist.
Helpless, hopeless, and not very bright, Denise was very near worthless.
Well, I take back the part about her brightness. She was
bright enough to always find a way to fail and see the way to
disaster from the jaws of triumph. It would have taken someone not
very bright to miss the seeds of self-destruction she sowed before
herself.
She didn't, or pretended not to, know why she felt the need to
be worthless and I didn't care enough to put her through some in-depth
analysis. I guess I did care a little, though. I did ask about her early
years and found out nothing. And it was a frustrated reaction that
started it all.
If it was degradation she was seeking, I would let her bathe in
it. I think it was a reaction grounded in the wisdom that prompts the
parent of a child caught smoking to encourage them to smoke to
sickness.
"Damn it, Denise," I snapped that day, "Can you even dress
yourself?"
She hung her head in her customary way and didn't answer. I
think it was her silence, drinking in my abuse, that sent me over the
edge.
"Why don't you show me then," I said, prompting her head to
pop up, confusion on her face, "Go on, show me you know how to
work those buttons and zippers."
I don't know what either of us were thinking at that moment.
She hesitated and then slowly, slowly, brought her hands up to the
buttons of her blouse. I don't know if she was expecting me to take it
back or if I had intended to.
By the time she was on the third button, I had no thought but
that her bra was white with a lacy scallop around the cups. She kept
unbuttoning until she reached the bottom and then, still moving with a
dream-like slowness, pulled open her blouse. It was a burdened white
bra with a lacy scallop around the cups.
She dropped the blouse and waited. I was lost in the sight of
her standing in front of me half-undressed. She waited for me to rouse
from my reverie and then tired of it and moved her hands to the zipper
at the side of her skirt. It was hard to make that come off slowly. She
was now totally in her underwear.
"Can you undo those clasps?" I asked, my mouth suddenly dry.
There were only one set of clasps left. She reached behind
herself and opened her bra. She dropped the straps off her shoulder and
the bra hung from the crook of her elbows. She let her arms down and
she was naked to the waist.
She hadn't failed to grow breasts. They hung a little and
swooped out rather than bulged, but they were each more than a
handful and tipped with nipples big and brown. I just raised it a step.
"Well, that's something," I grunted, "While you're having such a
run of success, why don't you try to make it up to me. Make it up to
me in a way you're dressed for."
I pulled on the belt of my pants so there would be no mistaking
my meaning. She looked crestfallen, but not for the reasons I thought.
"Can I take off my pantyhose?" she asked meekly.
"If you think you can" I said.
Her kept getting rolled in the nylons as she pulled them
off and she gave up trying to pull them up. They came off with the
pantyhose and she was naked before me. And then she was kneeling
naked before me. She opened my pants and took out my penis.
And there we were. I became erect as she guided my member
out of my underwear. It was ready now that it was clear we were
going to have sex. And there we were. I had told her to undress and
then service me and she had done it without protest. Her mouth
engulfed me. And there we were. Denise knelt subserviently naked in
front of me leisurely on my dick as I stood fully clothed over
her.
As her became more urgent, the extent of the moment
ran through my mind. I thought of pulling her up and putting her on the
desk and fucking her. I thought of making her crouch on the floor as I
took her from behind. I thought of sitting in my chair and having her
ride me to climax. And then I realized it all was in the country whose
borders we had just crossed.
My thoughts lost me the moment and she urged me with eager
bobbing beyond the point of stopping her.
"Oh yes, thank you," I graciously gasped as I felt my balls
tighten to load the semen for my climax.
Happily, she was not distracted by my gratitude and pulled
harder even as my seed crouched to jump up my stiff staff. Then it was
pouring out and still her head bobbed her mouth down on my cock.
She kept it up until I wavered a little and then she looked up at me with
wide, blue eyes.
There was no recrimination in her gaze, only hopeful wonder if
she had done what I had wanted.
"It looks like you cleaned it up pretty well," I said by way of
compliment, "You can put it away now."
She replaced my penis in my underwear and zipped up my
pants. For a moment we didn't move, a tableaux of business boss and
kneeling naked wench. Then I motioned her to her feet.
She wasn't even self-conscious, just confused. What did I want?
I knew then I had unlocked a dangerous genie, but it was out of the
bottle now. There was no going back. But even the worst danger that
could come of it somehow struck me as fun at the moment.
"You may go back to work now," I dismissed her.
"Should I dress first?" she asked.
"Let's not tempt fate," I said, "So far you've gotten two things
right in a row. Let's leave the dressing yourself test to later so as not to
break the spell."
She was not troubled by it one bit. She went back and sat at her
desk naked as the day she was born and started gathering the papers on
her desk. I immediately had lustful thoughts again, but my depleted
state turned them to plans for days ahead....
PART II-------------------------------in which Denise does as she is told.
"Do you live alone?" I asked later in the week.
She did. There was no one who needed calling for her to work
late at my house. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened since
the day she had disrobed and my dick. That included Denise
being successful at any task assigned her. I was eager for an encore,
but each transgression seemed so small that I let it pass to wait for a
bigger gaffe to being her to her knees at my crotch.
But that was over now. Occasion or not, I was ready for more
of Denise. I told her she could ride with me to my house. Getting back
to the office would be no problem. I would bring her back after she had
spent the night. But that was more information than Denise needed.
She only knew I told her she was coming home with me.
We picked up food on the way. Once inside the house, I told
her to take off her clothes and hang them in my closet. She emerged
naked a few minutes later and we sat down to our deli delights. If it
were possible, she was even more at ease naked in my house than at
the office. Perhaps it was the covers on my chairs.
After eating, I went to take a shower and told Denise to tag
along. Then she saw for the first time the whole man. Taking my cues
from here, I was very at ease as I paraded naked in front of her. It was
as if she were a schnauzer.
She held the towel and at one point soaped my back, but it was
a matter of bland servitude. I offered her the chance to wash and she
declined, instead accompanying me as I slipped into a bathrobe and
took her into the living room.
"There is no office work here," I told her, "I brought you home
so you could serve me. I want you to learn from the things I ask of
you. I would like sometime for you to be able to perform them on your
own, even suggesting things for yourself."
Any indication that I expected initiative from her always
startled her, but my way of telling her must have seemed far enough
away that it did not upset her. She sat and waited for me to tell her
more.
"All right, then," I said after a deep breath, "Why don't you get
it out and get it ready- but go easy, we have much to do."
She understood that well enough. She brushed the robe aside
and was quickly face down in my lap. God, I had wanted this so many
times in the last week. It took no time until my cock stiffened in her
mouth and I turned my thoughts to how I would take her first.
But there was no hurry. She was taking it easy as instructed.
Only my desire to make it more was pressing me to decide what to do
next. I could leave it to her laconic for hours without coming.
It occurred to me that she hadn't developed this talent because I had
asked her.
"You've done this before, haven't you?" I asked her.
She nodded her head without taking my dick out of her mouth.
"Tomorrow you can work on a report of your experiences," I
instructed, "Right now, you can lay back on the sofa an open your legs
very wide."
She did what she was told with so little art, that I was amazed
that her performance had been, thus far, so good. Her demeanor was
one of an animated love doll. Her performance was experienced and
well practiced. I anticipated her report with excitement.
She lay back on the sofa and her womanhood yawned open as
she spread her legs. She was moist, but not sloppy wet. She should be
easy enough to penetrate, especially with my saliva-slick organ, but not
loose. I turned to climb on top of her.
"What do you think of all of this?" I asked her as my member
pressed at the pink gates.
She got a confused, almost frightened look on her face. I
suppose I had asked her to perform a task for which she was ill-
prepared- think.
"Why are you doing what I tell you?" I asked, thinking that
would be a simpler question.
"Don't you want me to?" she asked, really confused now.
"Yes, but..." I had to think of a way to say this, "Some women
don't even want to bring the boss a cup of coffee."
"Some women don't spill the coffee when they bring it," she
said, her face giving me a rare glimpse into her feelings about herself,
"And you said I did two things right when we... were in the office
before."
I wanted to help her self-esteem, so I pushed forward, easing
my cock into her. She was... firm? No, snug. She was moist enough
that I could push smoothly in, but I could tell she wasn't really warmed
up yet.
"Are you happy serving me this way?" I asked as my face
hovered over hers.
She searched my face for a clue to the 'right' reply.
"Yes..." she said hesitantly, "It seems to please you."
"Yes it does," I said, rolling my hips so my hard cock could
rummage around in her warm, spongy femininity, "I find you very
enjoyable. And it's something you're good at."
She nearly purred like a kitten at that. She was far from
offended even though she knew he meant it was the one thing she was
good at. Being good at anything seemed to be enough for her.
I felt a twinge of conscience for taking advantage of the trampling she
had suffered in the past, but that quickly faded as she put
her hands on my back and stroked. I just fucked her. Rudimentary,
vanilla, missionary position sex it may have been, but my dick didn't
care. However wild the thoughts in my mind, my cock was warm, wet
and happy and didn't care.
In fact, it took control. I hadn't had any particular plans, that is
true, but just laying on her on the couch and fucking her wasn't one of
the scenes I had imagined. My cock still didn't care. Every time I was
going to pull out and tell her to get in another position, he refused.
Leave me alone, he said and plowed on into her pussy.
When I came, she squeezed me with her thighs and her heels
pulled at my thighs to help me drive frantically deep into her to milk
the most from my climax. Sated, I stopped with my dick as deep in her
as I could push it. I could feel her ankles cross behind me and she
pulled me tight against her with her legs.
"I like this part the best," she offered, and I realized she was
actually having a thought of her own.
I could tell. There were things going on down there. It wasn't
orgasmic spasms, but her was moving, closing, stroking my cock
as it slowly deflated inside her tight clasp. As my penis shrank, her
vagina closed to fit it keeping a tight grip even as it drooped to normal.
I would have fallen out but for the scissors-hold of her thighs pressing
our groins together.
And for once, I didn't mind it. I will leave my cock in a woman
a while, because it seems they like it, but I'm usually just biding my
time until I can roll off lay down and take a deep breath of fulfillment.
With Denise, I was actually enjoying the feel of her muscles fluttering
around my now limp organ. I leaned down and kissed her.
I couldn't help noticing that she kept her eyes open. Wide open
in fact, studying me as our lips pressed together.
"Don't you like being kissed?" I asked.
"I didn't know what you wanted," she responded.
"Just to thank you for the pleasure you gave me. I just felt like
it," I said.
She was confused again. It was a pretty constant state for her. I
guessed that whatever 'lessons' she had in sex hadn't included
tenderness or regard for her feelings. She certainly didn't know what to
make of a who wanted to kiss her.
Now I was confused. When we were fucking, I got these
incredible feelings of protectiveness and tenderness. But I was using
her the way everyone else had. I knew in my gut at that point that she
would never be the sex kitten I had envisioned. I think she enjoyed it
up to a point, but she would never get past that point to initiating
games or, indeed, taking an active role.
She was like so much meat and I was using her to jack off. But
I also knew I didn't want to stop. And it wasn't like I was forcing her,
really. She was the one that had set herself up as the victim. How much
responsibility did I have to take for that?
But I knew I was whistling past the graveyard. The point wasn't
how responsible I was for her. The point was that I was responsible for
me. How could I decry the actions of the earlier in her life if I was
going to treat her the same way? I had tried to make her say she
wanted it, but she hadn't relieved me of the responsibility. It all came
down to how I wanted to think of myself.
The confusion had made my cock shrink even more and even
with her heels pressing me to her, it slipped out.
"I'm going to leak all over your sofa," she said with concern in
her voice.
"Please do, it will be a pleasant momento," I said to relieve her
concern as I pulled myself from her embrace.
My answer didn't seem to calm her, but she lay where she was
as I found a place to sit between her feet. The deep breath wasn't as
relaxing with all the questions swirling in my mind. I watched idly as
our combined fluids seeped out of her and trickled over her ass to the
sofa.
"You take it up the ass, too?" I asked and she nodded.
"You like it that way?" I asked and was again met with her
blank stare.
Likes and dislikes, like hopes and dreams or plans seemed to
be foreign to her nature.
"Does it hurt?": I asked and she slowly shook her head.
"Do you get pleasure from it?" I asked, chopping one question
into manageable bits.
"Sometimes," she said in a small, hunted voice.
"Denise, I enjoy you," I said, I guess trying to soothe my own
conscience, "It doesn't matter whether you like it or not for me to have
a great time, but if there's something you like, then I'm sure I'd have a
great time doing that."
She just shook her head. It might have meant I don't like
anything. It might have meant she didn't think in terms of having a
choice. Deep down, it might mean, why should I tell you.
"Okay," I said, growing frustrated with the questioning, "Go get
a towel from the bathroom."
She got up a little stiffly and then did as she was told. When
she brought it back I took it, doubled it and put it over the wet spot. I
motioned for her to sit next to me.
I put my arm around her and pulled her to me until her head
rested on my shoulder. It was stupidly sentimental, but I felt the need
to be protective. She did feel good cradled against me, however.
"You haven't screwed up anything tonight," I started, trying to
perk her up, "I bet we go the whole night like that."
"I feel dumb when you ask me questions," she said plainly.
I gave up. Conscience or no conscience, I was getting tired of
hitting my head against the wall. She had no problem with what I was
doing and I just wanted to get back to it.
I pulled her hand to my crotch and let it rest on my dick. Then I
turned my attentions to her breasts. She stroked my cock, I would say
distractedly, but there was no indication that my stroking her
had an effect on anyone but me. Flabby sounds bad, but her had
the feel of love handles- somewhat solid, but very yielding. Her large,
brown nipples became darker, medium-sized nipples under my probing
fingers as they wrinkled, crinkled and stood.
I wanted to feel them on my tongue. I bent to worry them and
their hardness was exciting. They tried to escape me into the yielding
flesh, but I trapped them in the soft pillows and made them pay for
their timidity. Her breath came faster.
Elated that I had touched her, I squeezed her to bring
the hard nubs out of hiding. They bowed and then popped up as my
tongue passed over them and her breathing stayed at its elevated rate.
Even this poor excuse for participation was an exciting triumph
for me. The flicker in my groin that her hand had started became a
twitch as she responded to my her nipples. This time at least I
wasn't distracted by my own dark night of the soul. Her stroking
became more assured as she felt my cock stir and soon she was
stroking a semi-hard member nearly ready for another round.
"Why don't we make this more comfortable," I said and helped
her from the couch and led her into the bedroom.
She lay down on the bed in much the same position she had
taken on the sofa before I took her the first time. That wasn't what I
had in mind, but my mind changed when I saw her there. I climbed
over her as if to enter her again, but instead resumed kissing her
breasts. They pooled liquidity off the sides of her rib cage as she lay on
her back, the nipples seeming to stand taller by the flattening.
I spent only a little time on them and started to move lower. I
heard her suppress a gasp. It was not a sound of delight. But I was done
being shy of her fears. I paused to kiss her soft, round belly, allowing
my tongue to dip into her navel. I quickly continued my path down her
body and her agitation become more evident.
Damn, it was like she was afraid she was going to like it, I
thought. She jerked as my tongue passed over her clit and I lifted my
head to ask, "What's the matter, don't you like it?"
"It makes me be silly," she replied.
"Then be silly, Denise," I said flatly, "Let go, for Christ's sake.
I want you to enjoy yourself as much as you can while you're doing
what I tell you."
I didn't think she would let go and I wasn't wrong. She did shut
up. I licked her until her opened like a flower and her breathing
was coming in shallow gasps again.
I crawled up over her and let my dick rest on the sloppy mess I
had made of her cunt. I let it rub between the spread lips and put my
face close to hers.
"I want to take you a different way this time," I said softly, "I
want you to roll over and get up on your knees."
If she thought, of which I had no direct evidence, I figured she
thought I was going to take her anally. There was no evidence that it
made any difference as she followed my instructions.
"No, put your face down on the bed," I instructed as she got to
her hands and knees.
That pushed the spread flower of her womanhood deliciously
back through her thighs. The wetness gave it a sparkling pink
brightness and I touched her thighs for her to open them and make her
lips spread in a wider welcome.
I moved closer, but not close enough for my prick to touch her
and stroked her ass. Bent as she was, the otherwise loose hemispheres
were taut and firm. I was surprised because the butt I had seen seemed
to droop a little, but now it was as tight as a teenager's. I had trouble
trying to grab a handful.
She wasn't trembling or twitching or giving off any signals now.
She was simply waiting for me to take her. That wasn't going to
change, I thought. But I had what I thought would be a surprise for her.
I moved toward her and put my cock between her lips