Explicit details of sex and BDSM scenes from here on out. Some may be hot while others may not be to your taste… and not necessary CG with Ana together. Proceed at your own discretion, but don’t say that I didn’t warn you.
This ain’t your everyday Christian and Ana story. Don’t expect anything. Just read it as it goes along or go away. I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy, or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. If something that I say displeases you, please, just leave. If you don’t like this story or me, please don’t spoil this experience for everyone. Just go away. For the rest of you, the new saga continues…
It’s been three weeks since I’ve seen that woman and every gold thing in the damn world reminds me of her. I haven’t been flogging or whipping anybody. I’ve just been fucking their goddamn brains out with visions of Golden in my head—my dick hammering that pussy while she hangs upside-down on that damn pole; her body writhing over my rod like she did in her dance; that ass squeezing cum out of my aching balls as she bounces on my shaft like she bounced on the floor. Fuck, I’ve had some of the most explosive orgasms fucking other women while thinking of her than I’ve had in my whole goddamn life!
I knew she would be gone by the time I had worked over Caramel and Platinum—my names for the two girls I fucked to the moon that night, but I couldn’t help but hope that I would see her again after my balls weren’t knotted with the need to fuck her. I went to that club every damn night for a week looking for her, running into Elena only once. She knew why I was there and she taunted me, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction of confirming her suspicions. Instead, I opted to fuck Caramel again, who now sits on the bench next to Elena in a sensational corset and slinky black skirt with stockings and high-heels.
“That’s fucking more like it,” I say, salivating over her ample cleavage and dying to bite those tender mounds.
“If you want her, you need to buy out her contract, Trey,” Elena threatens. I glare at her.
“I don’t want her,” I reply, “I just want to fuck her. Do I need to pay you?” Elena smiles, that fucking knowing smile again.
“Not this time,” she says, smiling as she hands me a leash of Swarovski crystals. “Next time.”
She’s luring me in. I can’t let that happen. I’m panting for Golden and I can’t even hide it. I haven’t even fucked the girl yet! I grab Caramel’s arm and snatch her against my body, squeezing her ass hard in my hands.
“It’s going to be a mix tonight,” I hiss in her ear. “I’ll hold you down, and sometimes tie you down. I’ll fuck you and you’ll fuck me. Your only instructions—don’t come.” She nods at me and I drag her to the private rooms. There will be no third tonight, and I know she’ll fail at her one command. She’ll come—several times, and I’ll punish her by fucking her more and more. After that, she’s lucky if she ever sees me again.
That was two weeks ago. I fucked that poor girl so deep and so hard in so many ways that she swore she loved me when it was over. First, I made her ride my face—those juicy pussy lips and that fat clit rolling all over my tongue making me hard as fuck until I knew she was just about to come. Then, I stopped her and made her ride me, slow and sexy. I made her slide on my dick from head to hilt every time, slow and torturous until she was shaking with the need to come. Then I grabbed her ass and held her up, edging both of us inside of her until we both exploded in our first orgasms.
Many more followed that night. I exquisitely hog-tied her then put her on top of me, fucking that sweet pussy then that tight ass from underneath her until she screamed and I exploded hot cum in that ass. Of course, I fucked her against the wall, that beautiful round ass fitting perfectly in my hand so that I could hold her open and grind against that clit as I guided her over my relentlessly hard dick and licked and kissed her all around that crystal collar. She didn’t stand a chance.
Holding her down, immobilizing her in the small of her back while holding her hands over her head and fucking that pussy through closed legs from behind. The tightness of holding her legs closed, the friction from the perfect rhythmic stroke, and the pressure from holding her body against the bed and pushing her pelvis into the mattress always results in a burning, intense, internal orgasm for the woman if you do it right. And the pulsing, squeezing on my dick ensured yet another cosmic blast for me.
Golden. This could be you.
I was right in the middle of stroking to another orgasm when she declared she could come no more. To me, that was a challenge. I knew fucking her hard would only be painful, so I convinced her that she had one more in her and began a luscious, slow fuck from behind that had her ass rising and her grabbing the sheets in almost no time. I laid my body on hers and continued the slow stroke, reaching under her to cup and caress her tits while biting and licking her back and shoulders. I turned us over on our sides and held her leg up, slow stroking in that pussy and kissing her deeply, groaning into her mouth and feeding her my arousal while building on her own. When I felt her shaking, I ordered her to stay still while I came, and that sent her over the edge the final time. She came so violently that her body ripped the last orgasm out of me. I had to close my eyes to the blinding pleasure as I mentally whispered her name repeatedly in my ecstasy…
Golden… Golden… Golden… Golden…
I left her in the room to recuperate. Then, I paid Roc—the doorman—a cool thousand to call me the next time Golden graced the club. I haven’t heard anything yet. No fucking, no subs, not even jacking off while I’m waiting for this Golden creature to reappear that very well may have been a figment of my fucking imagination. Elena was pissed that she couldn’t get Caramel to cooperate after I fucked her so well and let her go a week later, demanding that I buy out her contract since I ruined her as a submissive. She’s right. I did. I tormented and fucked that poor girl, the entire time thinking of someone else—still aching for Golden now more than before. I wish I knew her real name. I could have her, I know I could, if I could just find her.
I wire $10,000 into Elena’s account for her loss.
It’s hard to find something intense that keeps you in shape and doesn’t make you bulk up like a man. That’s why I decided to do the pole-dancing in the first place. The problem with that is everybody thinks you’re a stripper. They don’t understand that people actually compete in this sport, but I don’t have time to educate the masses. So, one of the things that I had built in my house was a workout room for pole-dancing with both poles mounted into the ceiling and floor. However, in order to stay fit for the pole, you still need another form of exercise. So, today, I’m in the studio practicing my other fitness regimen.
Ashtanga and extreme yoga.
Ashtanga, I can do on my own. For extreme yoga, I need a partner. Of course, horny ass Kevin is always available… smooth milk chocolate and fine as fuck.
“One day, I’m going to taste that ass,” he says, as I bend backwards over him.
“Shut up and concentrate, dickwad,” I scold as I stretch hard, fighting to hold my position for one more count of ten.
“I can’t help it,” he says, “It’s juicy and pretty and I just want to bite it.”
I block out his confessions and manage to hold for a ten count. When I move to straighten my body, he’s still holding me in position, and my back and arms start to hurt.
“Let me go, Kevin,” I say through my teeth. He releases me quickly, such that I fall hard against his solid body… and his rock-hard dick. His hands precariously end up cupped over my breast.
“If you like your dick and balls intact, you’ll get your hands off my fucking tits,” I say in a menacing voice. He squeezes hard while rubbing both hands up my breasts before releasing them.
“You can’t blame a guy for trying,” he says, his voice hoarse with arousal. I have to wiggle a bit to get off his body. He moans and grunts as our bodies part. When I turn to look at him, his legs are bent, his eyes closed, and his dick is so hard that it’s poking out the top of his gym shorts. I’m half tempted to grab it and jack him off, but I’m a Domme with a dick fetish—I’m not a common slut. I laugh and shake my head.
“Bye, Kevin,” I say, turning away from him. I can see him in the mirrored wall in front of me, rubbing his dick as he watches me walk away.
I’m enjoying the silence and privacy of the sauna after my workout when I hear the door open and close. I don’t open my eyes; I just relax and detoxify.
“You’ve got a new admirer, it appears.” Elena’s voice breaks my solitude. I move my towel from my face and look at her strangely.
“No,” she chuckles. “He’s wanted to fuck you for almost a year. I’m talking about Trey. He’s desperate for a little Golden.” I furrow my eyebrows. Is this bitch stalking me?
“Who the fuck is Trey?” I ask, confused. She raises her eyebrow.
“Oh, he’s not going to be happy to hear that,” she says. “Trey? From the club?”
Trey… Oh, Trey! She means Chopper. I’d forgotten all about him. I lean my head back on the wall and cover my face with my towel again.
“Yeah, you remember Trey,” she continues. “He came to the club every night for a week hoping to get a glimpse of you. He’s hot for you, Ana. He’s got all eyes on you, baby, and he doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants.” Oh, great—another die hard.
“Let me guess,” I say, disinterested. “He’s filthy rich and powerful and nobody turns him down, right?” She glares at me.
“You really don’t know who he is, do you?” she asks, astonishment evident in her voice.
“No, I don’t and I really don’t care,” I reply. I’ll admit, his arrogance and haughtiness in the face of rejection had me intrigued that first night, but not enough to want a taste. Rich, powerful men who don’t take no for an answer is the reason I don’t fuck. I get my satisfaction, but I don’t fuck. The fact that he’s walking money and obvious power makes him even more unattractive to me. My power players know their place… most power players don’t.
“He’s big time, darling,” she continues. “He could set you up for life. You’d never have to work again. You’d have anything you want right at your fingertips. No more early mornings in the office; no more grueling cases to close…”
No more Golden Girl on the scene stealing your thunder…
“I’m not interested, Elena,” I say from behind the towel covering my face.
“I’m just saying. He’s a heavy hitter. You might want to give this one the time of day.” I remove my towel and look at her.
“Are you trying to tell me that I need to protect myself?” I ask pointedly.
“No! No, nothing like that,” she back-peddles. “He just gets what he wants, that’s all.”
“Well, since you know him so well, you being very dear friends and all, make sure your friend knows that I’m not interested.” I place the towel back over my face. She chuckles again.
“You’re backing away from a challenge,” Elena says. “I guess I can’t blame you. With him, you would be… out of your league.” And now she’s egging me. She’s almost as desperate as Chopper for me to hook up with him. I almost laugh.
“No, Blondie,” I retort, glaring at her from under the lifted corner of my towel. “I’m not the one stalking Crimson hoping he walks in. He’s not out of my league. I’m out of his. Now, for the last time… I. Am not. Interested.” She puts her hands up in defense.
“I’m not trying to hook you up,” she defends. “I’m just letting you know that he has his feelers out for you. He’s a powerful man and he’s not beyond… coercing you to cooperate.”
“And now we’re back to veiled threats,” I say, completely removing my towel.
“Oh, stop being so goddamn sensitive. It’s not a fucking threat!” she says, shedding her subtleness. “The man is legend. He’s a fucking god, and I mean that literally. He just paid me $10,000 because he fucked Tammy so well in your absence that she’s worthless as a submissive now.”
“And Tammy is…?” I hiss.
“The exquisite black beauty that you told me to get up off the ground, so I did! He fucked her with a third that night you were there and he still turned her out. Came back a week or so later and got a hold of her again and she’s completely ruined! She might as well go to college or something now, because she can’t be a submissive!”
Elena sounds angry. No, not angry… pissed!
“She was just a submissive, right, Elena?” I taunt. “Just someone to crawl on the floor and do what you say. Anybody can do that, right?” I can hear her blood pressure rising through the silence.
“You know as well as I do that she was one of a kind!” she hisses. “She was the best and most beautiful piece of ass I’ve seen in ten years!”
“Then, why did you share her?” I say, feigning disinterest. I’m highly interested. Trey wants me. Badly. And Elena is doing her best to facilitate his acquisition. I need to get into both of their heads to find out exactly why.
“You don’t say no to a man like Trey. There are consequences involved and you take that however you want to. I offered to share the first night, thinking he would choose another girl. She was the only one on a leash, for God’s sake! He knew she was my primary that night! I protested, but he insisted, so I gave in. Now, I regret it, because when he saw her, he saw you. I’m sure of it!”
Well, that’s not good.
“Now, she’s fucking worthless! Two times with that man and she’s worthless. She fell asleep in the private room, for fuck’s sake—I had to go in and retrieve her!”
Now, the laughter inside is fighting to get out.
“So, if I’m understanding you correctly, he has ruined one of your prized submissives for other men and now, you want to unleash him onto me.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“Well, if anyone can tame him, Darling, it’s you,” she says, her voice softening. Oh, please, spare me this shit. You’re not hoping I tame him, you transparent sow. You’re counting on it being the other way around.
“You shouldn’t have let him fuck her and you know it,” I say, flatly. “You got your ten grand out of it, now stop whining. You wave your wad of cash around and you can find another submissive anywhere. Stop behaving as if she’s such a great loss. You had her on her knees in panties when I first met her, for crying out loud. You don’t treat them like people. Even in their submission, you treat them like objects. You can’t do that and then try to claim that they’re so fucking valuable. So, go out and find yourself a new shiny, little trinket and stop bitching about the one you lost. If you know the man is going to ruin your subs, don’t share them—say. No. Like I am right now… No. Elena.”
“You need to stop acting as if you’re so damn unapproachable…” she begins.
“I am unapproachable,” I say, surely, removing the towel from my face once more. “I say who and I say when. I do what I want when I want and I love it… and they chase me, just like your Trey. He can’t persuade me or locate me, so he sends you to do his dirty work. How tragically medieval!” Suddenly, she sees her last chance to persuade me flying out the window.
“He didn’t send to me to do his dirty work!” she hisses. “I’m not some common messenger girl. I’m a Dominatrix and a damn good one! I was cracking a whip while you were still in college!” Oooo, I’ve insulted Mistress.
“When’s the last time you gave someone a really good ass-whipping… I mean a really good ass-whipping?” I just stare at her and wait for the answer. “It’s not your thing anymore, Elena. Your thing is to have a bevy of subs coiling around you like cats so that everyone can look at you and say, ‘Oh, look at the great Dominatrix and all of her beautiful subjects!’ You’re not a Domme anymore. You’re a pimp. Even your name says you’re a pimp—‘Madame’ Petra and her specialized call girls. Subs give you something that you need; that’s why you pay them. So, be glad that your business is doing so well. I give subs something that they need. That’s why they pay me.”
“Which makes you nothing more than a gold-clad prostitute, complete with the hooker heels and the stripper pole. Don’t you see that?”
Is she trying to hurt my feelings? Oh, you’ve got to do better than that.
“You know what, Blondie? I’ll give you that one. I’m performing an erotic service and I’m getting paid for it, handsomely. So, fine, I’m prostituting my services. Big fucking deal. What you do with your toys is the equivalent of leaving a couple of Benjis on the nightstand when the fun is over. I get wire transfers, exquisite jewelry, and trips to Belfast, not to mention influential connections in very powerful positions. And just like your little toys, they’re at my beck and call. I give them what they need and they give me what I need—and then they pay me for it. I love being Queen of the Hill. It’s a title I can live with, but even if I weren’t, all I’d want is satisfaction.” She glares at me for a moment.
“What the fuck is a Benji?” I try to withhold my laughter. That’s all you got out of that? I know she got more; she just doesn’t want to acknowledge it.
“Go grab an urban dictionary and look it up.” I cover my face with the towel.
“There you go with urban speak again,” she says distastefully. “Careful… your ‘hood’ is showing.”
“You can always get the hell out of my presence,” I say calmly from under my towel. She snorts.
“Still a prostitute,” she says in a low voice. I smile. She can’t see my face anyway.
“I’d rather be the hooker than a trick,” I say impassively.
My last declaration is met with several minutes of silence. Is she reloading? If she is, she’s going to be talking to herself in a minute because I’ve been in here long enough. I may have a minute or so left in this hotbox, then she can have it all to herself.
How was I ever friends with this woman? It’s time for me to take my grooming services elsewhere. I might walk out of her establishment one day with an unfortunate infestation of lice.
“Don’t deny Trey,” she says after several quiet moments, and we’re back on this again. “You won’t like the outcome. He has his hand on the pulse of a lot of things worldwide, and he could make things difficult for you… even expose you.”
Expose me? Is she serious?
“I like my privacy, Elena, but I’m not doing anything illegal. I’m not a community leader and the success of my career has nothing to do with what I do after hours. People already think lawyers are slimy and dishonest and frankly, some of us are. But to be honest, I couldn’t give a flying fuck if somebody knew what I do. I’d probably end up richer than I am now with some of the sick fucks that want my services.”
“You say that now,” she retorts, “but when someone threatens to out you, your story will change. You’re becoming famous, Ana. Be careful.” I shake my head. “And you call them ‘sick fucks,’ but what does that say about you?”
“It says that I’m good at what I do because I recognize that and can still give them what they want. And I didn’t call them sick fucks… I called some of them sick fucks. Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Blondie. You know how it always turns out.”
She does, too. She always ends up near tears and I end up shaking my head at her. I don’t play mind games, but hell… I’m a lawyer!
“Don’t get too big for yourself, Ana. We all do at some point,” she warns again.
“Maybe you did, but I won’t,” I retort calmly. “I do this because I want to, and it just happens to come with monetary rewards. I have strict rules and a very particular clientele. Nothing lasts forever—I know it and they know it, so we all savor the experience like it’s going to be our last. That’s how my reputation thrives. I’m not a weekend tart that you enjoy on a regular basis until the flavor gets old. I’m a decadent and taboo confection that you indulge in only once in a while—and there are a lot people willing to wait for that taste. That’s the difference between me and you—I make sure that I don’t become common. I do this because I want to, not because I have to.”
“What makes you think I have to?” she rejoinders. “I pay submissives for their time—they don’t pay me! Your activities help support your lifestyle.”
“Will you listen to yourself?” I say incredulously, removing the towel and placing it on the bench next to me. “You pay submissives for their time… why? If you’re such an expert Dominatrix, why do you have to pay them for their time? I don’t have a price list. I do what I do and they shower me with rewards. They want a menu, they go to someone else. They want the best sadist in the contiguous United States, they come to me. I’m really not a hooker, Elena. I’m an artist. You do caricatures and finger paintings while I create masterpieces, then you come to me and try to besmirch what I do because I’m on the receiving end of the reward?”
I lean back and put my arms across the back of the bench, crossing my legs. She stares at me for several moments, but doesn’t speak.
“Contrary to your assumptions, Blondie, the lifestyle is not my livelihood. I have a job and it pays handsomely—so handsomely, in fact, that I can take cases pro bono whenever I feel the need to do so. The lifestyle is my release… my hobby… I’m just damn good at it. Now, I think it’s time we either change the subject or completely end this conversation before I forget that we are at least somewhat cordial.” She raises an eyebrow at me.
“I thought we were friends,” she says, suspiciously. No, you didn’t, you pretentious cunt. You no more consider me a friend any more than I consider you as one. You want to keep me close, to observe me and keep an eye on me—just like I refuse to turn my back on your conniving ass.
“All the more reason to drop this conversation,” I say without confirming or denying her thoughts.
“I’m just looking out for you,” she says, feigning concern… and quite badly at that. “I’ve seen many come and go, and some of their exits have not been pretty ones. Please… watch yourself.”
Again… warning or threat?
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” I tell her. “It’s those who attempt to cross me that you should be concerned about.” And now, she’s sitting in the proverbial seat where I was a moment ago. But I’ll help you out on this one, Blondie. It’s not a warning…
This is what she wanted to make of herself, how she defines herself. Not so for me. It’s not like I’m living my life’s dream. Nothing is the way I wanted it, the way I expected it to be. There’s no fragile world around me to come tumbling down. Nothing to be protected, because anything that I need to protect, I can do that myself or I have people that can do it for me. I live life by my own terms making my own rules. No one gets hurt in the process because I do nothing to no one that they don’t want done.
I’ve perfected my craft by watching my subjects, gauging their reactions and adjusting my techniques so that they get what they want while I get what I want from the experience.
Once a month, I choose someone to kiss—once. It’s a delicacy they savor for eons and some of them even fall in love.
There are only a handful of them that I fellate even though I make all of them come, and they are all required to supply certified clean bills of health before I’ll even agree to touch them… even with a whip.
I’m meticulous and brutal. The agony I inflict is exquisite, and it comes at a very high price—even though I don’t set the price, because if you have to ask, you can’t afford me. No one can be hurt by my exposure except me and I can’t be hurt. I have more people by the balls in this state than I can count and they have more to lose than I do, so they’ll guarantee my privacy should the threat of exposure ever become a problem for me. There’s no one vulnerable around me. The only people I ever loved in my life either died or abandoned me, so I just live for today—for the pleasure, for the immediate gratification…
For the kill.
I’m white-knuckle gripping the steering wheel as I guide my car down the narrow street that leads to crimson. I’m trying not to speed, but I’m sure that I only have moments to get there and see her before she disappears like a figment of my fucking imagination. This drive has been an agonizing twenty minutes that’s normally a leisurely thirty-five had I not broken the sound barrier to get here when I got the call.
“Golden just walked in. From the looks of her, she’s got an appointment.”
I didn’t even bother to change. Fuck! I can’t go in there looking like a Seattle businessman! Luckily, I have a pair of jeans and black suede boots in the trunk. I strip right there in the parking lot and slide into the jeans and boots. I still have the black leather jacket in the truck, too, thank fuck. I can’t walk in there in just a T-shirt looking like a total fucking dork.
What the hell is wrong with me? I haven’t salivated over a girl since college—this is fucking ridiculous!
“Where is she?” I say, nearly bursting into the club after the spy has let me in.
“She’s already occupied, but you’re in luck. She’s in exhibition room nine—but the observation room is packed to the walls already,” he informs me.
“Thanks,” I say, walking into the club. I look around for one of the dungeon masters.
“I need viewing for exhibition room nine. Tell Max Trey is asking.”
“No need, Sir,” he says and leads me back to one of the small private viewing rooms. I thought they’d all be taken. “Enjoy the show.”
I sit in the large, comfortable chair in the middle of the room—more like a broom closet, but big enough for my needs—and the two-way mirrored wall transforms into a window into exhibition room nine. This is one of the few white rooms in the club, and of course, ambient lighting casts a gold hue onto the walls.
My dick is instantly hard the moment I see her…
This gold catsuit looks like PVC netting all over her body giving you a gorgeous view of her alabaster skin and you can see that she’s not wearing anything underneath—not even underwear. Her nipples are protruding from holes in the netting and she has long, chandelier nipple-rings dangling from them. An auburn wig graces her head and signature gold and crystal stilettos caress her feet. I can see the golden contacts from here. Even her lips are golden tonight and I’m thrilled to discover that the show has just begun.
Her submissive is a fairly fit subject, not overly muscular. He’s a large man in that he appears tall, even while lying prostrate with his wrists bound straight out to his sides, naked except for a golden submissive gimp mask with holes for his nose and mouth. There’s a spreader bar attached to his ankles, but I’m sure it’s just for visual effect as his legs are strapped down on wide-spread leg rests.
She’s circling him, not yet touching him, her heels making ominous clicking noises on the floor. She has something in her hand… a wand of some sort—long and shiny, gold of course. Is she going to stick that thing in him? She circles him a few more times and without stopping her revolutions, she touches his chest with the wand and quickly removes it. His body jerks and he gasps. She circles him again, touching his thigh this time. He jerks again. She repeats this step on his torso and nipple and he groans loudly.
It’s an electro-stim wand.
She repeats this torment several times until he’s writhing and sweating, crying out in agony or ecstasy, I don’t know which. She’s meticulous and I find myself leaning forward in the chair and gripping the armrests, getting as close to the window as possible. He’s breathing heavily, gasping for air, as she places the wand on a nearby table. She stands over his head and smooths her hands down his body. He’s trying to catch his breath. She comes back up to his ear and you can barely hear her whisper…
“Yes!” he pants. “Please, Mistress… please…”
And with this one demonstration, I can see why Elena wants her off the scene. She hasn’t admitted as much, but I can tell that she does by the level of contempt I feel between them masked by cordial banter—bad banter at that.
There’s a new Queen Bee in town and contrary to what Elena would like for me to believe, she’s not a passing fancy. She’s not a fad that’s just going to wear off. Her only “gimmick” is her golden fascination. She has a talent that’s not easily duplicated. The line between the power exchange is blurred just enough so that you never really know who’s in control. Even now, I can’t tell, but I’m so fascinated by it that I want to know what the guy on the table is thinking right now. Whatever it is, it’s clear to see that she has mastered a concept that Elena can never grasp.
Our submissives service us. She services her submissives.
His moaning snaps me out of my analysis of the situation, and I realize that I almost missed the next act of the show. He’s now attached to nipple clamps and his body bows as far as it can in the restraints as Golden sends electric current through wires attached to a controller in her hand. As he grunts and groans, I follow her gaze and see that her eyes are locked on his dick—hard and thumping, standing at full and perfect attention, his balls restrained in a heavy golden cock ring. The man appears to be in total agony, but his dick looks like he’s going to blow any second.
Golden runs her golden tongue along her golden lips and I nearly expire. Well, maybe her tongue isn’t golden, but that’s what I see. What I wouldn’t give to have that sparkling mouth wrapped around my cock right now.
She subjects him to several more agonizing volts and I see his dick seep a little precum—not a show I prefer to see, but watching Golden in action has my temperature rising so quickly that I have to remove my jacket. Fuck, she’s driving me insane and she’s not even touching me!
She places her controls next to him on the table and crawls between his wide-open legs. With neatly cut, golden-chromed nails, she teases his abdomen until he starts to groan again. Both hands wrap around his cock and squeeze and his groaning turns to tortured moans. I watch as her hands manipulate his shaft up and down, back and forth, over his balls and around the cock ring. My dick is so hard and so tight in my pants as I watch this poor soul strapped to the table and completely at her mercy.
Suddenly, her hands are oily. I don’t even know where the oil came from, but those magic hands are wrapped around his dick again. One of them caresses his balls then disappears and I can only assume that it must be in his ass. His head jerks back and forth as she edges the rim of his dick. It’s turning veiny and angry… and shiny now, and I can once again only imagine what this poor sucker must be feeling at her mercy. She quickly slides her hand off the top of the head and the damn thing is standing straight up and jerking. A small salute of cum is her reward—a ruined orgasm that causes her poor submissive to jerk and groan in agony and disappointment.
With her finger still in his ass, she grabs his dick again only to realize that he’s still too close to his ruined orgasm. He nearly shoots his load again when she releases his cock, and again, a small salute greets her—more than the last time. He’s ready to blow and she’s tormenting him deliciously. Her fingers are still in his ass and she’s still manipulating him, not allowing him to come completely down from his second ruined orgasm. I can see him struggling on the table, desperate to break free and find his release, but she has him securely strapped down and eagle-spread and there’s no escape for him.
She fingers him for several minutes until he calms a bit, but is still aroused. Then, she does something that makes me want to cry.
She wraps those golden lips around the head of his cock. Restrained or not, his head pushes back on the table and he cries out to a higher deity. She pushes and pulls those lips, teasing his frenulum with her tongue before dropping her mouth down his cock until the entire thing has disappeared into her mouth—and her tongue is still able to caress his balls.
“Fuck!” I hiss before I know it. I’ve had some fantastic head… I mean fucking fantastic head—from submissives and from exes. A lot of women can deep-throat, but I have yet to have one swallow my cock and lick my balls at the same time. I’ve had one on my cock and one on my balls, but not the same girl doing both jobs. That shit is fucking impressive.
And her poor submissive is losing his mind.
When she closes her lips over his cock and glides up to the head, pausing there to suck and suck while licking his frenulum with her mouth closed, he releases a guttural groan and she releases his dick. This time, she removes her fingers, too. His dick is jerking now in his third ruined orgasm and although there’s no salute, the jerking and pulsing indicate that he is experiencing probably the worst pleasure-pain experience of his life.
He’s panting now, grunting like a caged animal fighting to get out of his binds, and she picks up that damn golden wand again. What the fuck is she going to do with that thing now?
She torments him again by touching it to various parts of his body until he’s crooning and shivering with need. My mouth is watering waiting to see what she’s going to do next. That luscious body is eye-candy for any human being, but her skill will have you sweating and hoping and wishing all the way through the goddamn show.
After several minutes of electro-torment over his body, she does exactly what I thought she would do… electro-torment that dick.
She only touches it for a second or so, but it’s enough to set her submissive on fire. His dick is not only thick and veiny now, but it’s also changing color… and getting harder, as if it could.
“Shall I stop?” she goads and she touches his dick again.
“No! Mistress, please, no! I need… ah!” She zaps him again. “I need… to come… please… ah! Plea… please, Mistress!”
He can’t take too much of that zapper on his dick unless she’s going to make him come that way, but her next move makes me want to come.
She puts the zapper/wand away but rolls another table right between his legs. I can’t see what’s on the table, but I’ll soon find out. She walks to the head of the table that he’s strapped to and climbs on so that her body is straddling his face.
She’s wearing PVC netting… I know he’s smelling nothing but pussy right now. My dick is rock hard. No… fuck rock—steel… hard as fucking steel.
His voice is muffled and I can tell by his contented groan and her momentary gasp that he’s somehow licking that pussy.
Fuck, I want to come.
His cock is still hard and angry and ready for action, and she’s going to give it to him. She retrieves what looks like a long silver pen with ridges from the table. It’s attached to some power source and I immediately think he’s about to be zapped again…
But he’s not.
She takes his screaming angry erect dick and sticks the head of this rod into the head of his dick. Now, I’ve heard of this, but I’ve never seen it. This is a sounding rod, and she’s about to sound this man’s dick while he’s strapped to the table. I don’t know whether to watch or turn away, but it’s like a train wreck. I can’t turn away, not to mention that her lower body is gyrating a bit over his head, so I know that tongue and that pussy are getting very well acquainted right now. I don’t know whether to watch the sounding or the grinding, so I do my best to watch them both.
The rod goes deeper and deeper into his cock, and I hear a small moan of pleasure from him each time it pushes further in. The vein up the front of his shaft that fattens when we come is plump and full at this moment, and he’s making short semi-orgasmic sounds already. She pauses again and closes her eyes, dropping her head back momentarily.
Yeah, he’s eating that pussy.
She pushes and pulls the sounding rod in and out of his dick and now, I can imagine how that feels. When that vein pulses, it’s the hottest and most euphoric feeling in the world. I can only imagine that directly stimulating it from the inside would be one continuous pre-orgasmic frenzy.
The golden torturer… or torturess combines an oily hand stroke with the in and out of the sounding rod, and her submissive groans in pleasure again. Her hand moves to his balls, and she’s caressing them and cupping them while sounding his dick. She reaches over and adjusts a knob only slightly, and his body starts to tremble. I already know, she’s hit the e-stim switch.
“Do you like that?” she purrs. He groans his pleasure into her pussy. “Mmmm, I like that, too,” she rewards him. “Would you like some vibration?” she asks coquettishly. He groans the affirmative into her pussy once more, and she sets another knob and flips a switch. I hear a small hum… and a loud groan, coupled with Golden’s unexpected cry of ecstasy. She steadies herself on his torso for a moment while she catches her breath. Apparently, the vibration from the sounding rod gave her submissive such a jolt that his lips or tongue gave her an extra added treat.
“You… like that… do you?” she pants in passion. Her submissive only groans. She turns her attention back to her task.
She begins pushing and pulling the sounding rod in and out of his dick again—e-stimming… and vibrating… and sounding… from the inside out. I can’t fucking stand it anymore. I want to stand up and bang on the glass, demanding that she stop teasing the man… stop teasing me… she evidently knows what he likes, because she’s got him strapped to a table, begging for release while eating her pussy at the same time.
She’s still grinding on his face and caressing his balls masterfully while pushing and pulling the sounding rod in and out of his cock. I’ve never heard these tormented sounds come from any man and I swear, he would break that table if he could.
He can’t stand it…
I can’t stand it…
There has to be an orgasm this time. His dick is so hard and so veiny that it looks as if it’ll burst right out of its own skin. She stops the push and pull of the sounding wand, but has inserted it—still vibrating and no doubt, still e-stimming—all the way down into his dick, which is jerking and pulsing on its own. She closes her eyes and licks her golden lips for a moment, most likely enjoy the feel of his groans and cries on her pussy, then her hands lock on his dick again, both pulling and pushing and squeezing that poor thing to the hilt of satisfaction. If he doesn’t come this time, I’m fucking going to curse.
His groans are long and deep now, buried under her pussy. Her hands work his balls and his shaft while the sounding rod is still inside him—up and down and up and down in glorious rhythmic strokes, his balls swollen like shiny bubbles, his orgasm still held captive by a wide metal ring. Then she adds her final element of torture.
One of the electrodes from the nipple is now attached to a second ring that’s right under the rim of his penis… and she turns that thing on.
“Aaaaahhh! Mistress! Please!”
Wasn’t a safeword, but he’s about to come.
She watches his body, pays attention to his cries, masterfully stroking his cock and balls and occasionally pulling and pushing the sounding wand. She’ll get him to the point where no matter if she stops or not, he’s going to come and one way or another, the job will be finished. As he obviously comes closer and closer to climax, she’s not stopping the stimulation. His cries and moans never stop now and his fists clench in… pain? Mindless pleasure?
I assume the later when she pulls the sounding rod from his dick in a flourish and sits back on his face to watch the show. The muffled words from his mouth confirm that the grand finale is indeed about to start:
“Golden! Fuck! Golden!”
His dick jerks wild and violent as stream after stream of cum shoots from the head. He’s writhing helplessly as his shaft and balls explode in one of the most spectacular candle-lighting displays I’ve ever seen in porn or real life, myself included. He’s crying out like a wounded dog with every long squirt of semen that flies into the air and she watches with salacious eyes while caressing her own breasts through her catsuit. It’s only now that I realize several streams of cum on my own chest, my dick gripped violently in my fist, my balls banging with the aftershocks of a massive orgasm, my breathing wild and erratic. I don’t even remember undoing my pants but thank fuck I took my T-shirt off!
The window goes black.
I lay my head back on the seat for a moment, catching my breath and rubbing my dick, only just remembering the feeling of that intense orgasm while watching Golden sound another man and groping her own breast. Shit. Coming all over myself as the result of a peepshow—a fucking glorious, live peepshow, but a peepshow nonetheless. This revelation could ruin my fucking reputation. I retrieve wipes from a nearby end-table drawer and clean my stomach, chest and dick before putting myself together and leaving the room. And guess who’s not even ten-feet away from me coming from the main observation theater. She smiles knowingly at me.
“Enjoy the show?” she asks. I raise my eyebrow at her.
“Yes, I did. Were you taking notes?” I ask. Her smile widens.
“I don’t need to,” she says, confidently shifting her weight on her hip. “She’ll fade, just like the others.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong,” I taunt. “She has something you’ll never have and if she ever leaves, she’ll take it with her. You’re trying to figure out what it is—that’s why you keep watching her. It’s so obvious what it is, but only to someone who’s not trying to be her,” I add, hiding my smirk. That got under her skin.
“I’m not trying to be her!” she seethes quickly. “I was the best before she came along and I’ll be the best long after she’s gone!” I lean in to her face.
“But not while she’s here,” I declare. All the color leaves her face and flood into her eyes until they’re red with fury.
“I guess that’s something that you and I have in common, then,” she jeers, “because you’ll never get what she has, either!” Touché, you nipped and tucked bitch.
“At least I still have a chance,” I counter. “You’re old news, Petra, same old licorice and aged at that!”
“Oh!” she says, “We’ve turned to swapping insults. Well, you might like to know that I’ve already put my feelers out on that little piece of gold candy that you’re salivating over like a pubescent teenager and she wants nothing to do with you! She doesn’t even fuck and if she did, she doesn’t like your type. What’s more, she’s out of your league—her words, not mine.”
I’m silently seething now. This pinned-together Barbie doll has been discussing me behind my back, and I don’t like it one bit. More than that, my desired conquest has told her that she doesn’t want me at all, no doubt because this bleached-blonde bucket-head has pawned herself off as my fucking representative. How much has she said about me? I snatch her roughly by the arm and she gasps in surprise.
“What does she know about me?” I hiss in Elena’s ear. She rightfully gazes at me in fear. “I said what the fuck does she know?”
“Nothing!” she hisses back, pretending to mask her fear and not doing a very good job of it. “She didn’t even remember who you were when I brought you up!” she sneers. You brought me up. You bitch!
“Does she know my name?” I demand. “Answer me!” I shake her after a pause.
“No!” she nearly squeals. “If she does, she didn’t get it from me!”
After feeling certain enough that she’s not lying, I roughly release her. She’s close to tears as she stumbles to maintain her footing.
“You go ahead—be that simpering fool hoping to get a taste of that gold-plated ass. You’ll never get her, and I’m going to enjoy watching you squirm!” she declares, her voice shaking.
“Your time is over,” I say coldly. “You may have been really hot in your day, but you’re not a sex symbol anymore. You may have use, but not in the arena you’re shooting for. She’s pissin’ all over you, Blondie, and you can’t stand it. So, go back to your corner and occupy yourself with your litter of kittens, because that’s all you’re good for now.” I walk away and leave her standing there to ponder that thought.
I’m standing outside the door leading to the exhibition rooms for twenty minutes before I see her. What the fuck was she doing after the lights went down? There’s only so much aftercare you can do in those rooms. She breezes out the door and I almost miss her.
“Excellent show,” I say, as she passes. She turns around to face me, the smell of sex filling my nostrils.
“Yes, it was,” she says. The hell she doesn’t fuck. She smells like she worked that man over something terrible after she worked that man over. Hopes springs inside me. Elena was probably lying to me all this time.
“You enjoy yourself doing that, I see,” I say, trying to keep her attention.
“Of course, I do,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Why else would I do it?”
“It’s quite the exhibition. Very… entertaining,” I say suggestively.
“I should hope so,” she purrs. “Who would pay for boring?”
“You know what they say… the best things in life are free,” I say, raising an eyebrow to her.
“That may be true,” she says, “but I’m not.” There’s a revelation. They pay her for this… I sure as hell would.
“Not what?” I ask, “The best thing in life… or free?” She raises a golden glare to me and even though her practiced control has never slipped in my presence, my keen instincts inform me that she’s been unnerved. I’ve shaken her a bit.
“You figure it out,” she says impassively as she strolls away from me with a sexy, meticulous walk. One day, Golden… one day, I’m going to crack that impenetrable shell and when I do, I’m going to lap up that creamy stream of golden lava inside like a starving man.
I follow her to her table and watch as she downs a double shot of clear liquid—vodka or gin, no doubt—then unwraps one of her golden lollipops and envelope it in her mouth, settling into comfortable satisfaction. I can feel her watching me through those mirror glasses as I draw closer to her, approaching with care like a lion stalking his prey, only… I’m not sure which of us is the lion tonight. Ignoring the menacing looks from the slave guarding her table, I lean in and ask,
“What can a man do to have the pleasure of your company?” She turns to me and sniffs, an almost unnoticeable move… almost.
“It appears that you’ve already had the pleasure of someone’s company this evening,” she says with a raised eyebrow. She’s fucking better than I thought.
“I have,” I admit. “Yours… though only vicariously.” She pulls her glasses down and glares at me. Her contacts have me awestruck—ancient clocks with golden backgrounds that circle her pupils. I’m surprised that she let me get close enough to see them.
“You’re captivating,” I confess.
“I know,” she says, confidently. “It’s a gift.”
“And cocky,” I observe.
“Not cocky,” she corrects me. “I don’t have one of those.” Well, that’s a fucking relief.
“Self-assured,” I say, searching for another term.
“To say the least,” she replies.
“Conceited,” I finally say.
“Absolutely,” she says, without pausing. I lean closer.
“Don’t you think modesty would be a better attribute in one so… stunning?”
“Would you be standing here right now if it was?” she retorts. Good point.
“You haven’t answered my question,” I say, my voice slipping into seduction again.
“What must I do to enjoy the pleasure of your company?”
“So, you would insult me, then ask to have the pleasure of my company?” My brow furrows.
“I beg to differ, Golden. I never insulted you.”
“No?” she says. “You ponder it for a while. But you’re wasting your time. I choose, Chopper.”
Chopper? What the fuck?
“Who the hell is Chopper? What the hell does that mean?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out. In the meantime, you may want to leave my table. You’re blocking my afterglow.” She’s dismissing me.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” I press.
“Hope,” she says. “Pray, maybe. I choose. That’s it.”
And that was it. She replaces her glasses and her lollipop, and I no longer exist.
I sit at the bar watching her for the next half hour. I also watch Elena, watching her… watching me watching her. Elena’s a fucking thorn in my side. If I have a chance in hell of getting close to this woman, I have to do so without her associating me to Elena. I wouldn’t trust me either if I were her. I look over at Elena once more and see her looking at me, smirking. In a bold move, I stand up and walk out of the club.
“If I send something here to Golden, can you make sure that she gets it?” I ask Roc. He furrows his brow.
“You’ll have to ask Max if that’s okay,” he says.
“Can you clear it with Max for me?” I ask. “Say that the packages will be clearly marked that they’ll be from Trey.” He nods and call his boss.
“Max, Trey wants to send some gifts here for Golden. He wants to know if it’s okay…” After a pause, “he says he’ll mark it clearly so we’ll know they’re from him…” Another pause and he ends the call. “Go ahead and send them.”
I nod my thanks and go out into the night air. My balls are significantly lighter from one of the hardest, self-imposed orgasms I’ve ever had. Now, to figure out how to get that talented little nymph into my bed.
A/N: The Pinterest board for this story can be found at https://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/fifty-shades-golden/.
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