Paris the S/M Masochist

S/M

Paris the Masochist

from

Queen Elizabeth Goes Bughouse on Beacon Hill

Cover for 4A final

EXCERPT

SET UP

Ajay and Paris are in a bubble bath soothing their bruises after masochistically rolling down the main stair case.  A true S/M devotee, Paris wants Ajay to give her more pain with her pleasure while they screw in the tub.  The following excerpt is a small part of what occurs.

Paris roared in her little voice, a sound that could only come from a fairy rutting with a Minotaur. Her second orgasm, following thirty seconds after the last, eclipsed the former with such back breaking authority that she was sure she was getting buggered by a crew of horny space aliens. Her arrow straight legs slammed down on the edge of the tub; her head cracked into the tub behind her.

Close to blacking out from the intensity of it, her torso rose in a twitchy shuddering arch, held up by the tripod made by her legs and neck. She rose further, her arch becoming extreme as her crystalline girly juices shot unheeding from the mouth of her vagina. Her shudders intensified as she reached the top of the arch, the destructive orgasm terminally slashing her insides like a jungle explorer wielding a sharp machete. If the first orgasm was like getting run over by Sherman tanks, the second one was like getting run over by the factory that made them. Then, as suddenly as she rose, her body went limp and she splashed down lifeless into the froth below.

Ajay lay back against his end of the tub, his face and shoulders dripping with her sudden ejaculation. He smirked with satisfaction. That’ll teach her, he thought. He looked at her face, eyes closed, as red as a beet, beaming in climactic overload, cherishing every nuance of pain and pleasure that was still coming at her in a fast and furious procession. Ajay shook his head mournfully. Teach her? Ha! Well, maybe not.

Paris was still living the ordeal…and re-living it. Identifying and separating one pain and pleasure from another. Whoa! What was that all about? What just happened? Her clitoris continued to throb so exceptionally, so completely, both in intense pleasure as well as an even more intense pain. My god! She wondered if she could get Ajay to do it to her again. Hesitantly she reached down between her legs. Gently brushing her battered clit, she hissed, wallowing in the finest agony she had in a long time. She winced as she brushed it further. Then she stopped. It was way better when Ajay did it. Taking a few more shuddering breaths, she opened her eyes and looked at her benefactor with new-found respect.

“That was unbelievable, Ajay,” she murmured respectfully. “How in the world did you learn how to do that? What did you do to me and, more importantly, how did you do that.” She shook her head, fucking amazed at this teen lounging in the water in front of her. Per Rebecca he was a virgin on that plane they were on last Monday. And she was the first to blow him. In six short days he had built enough sexual mastery to do this to her??? Jezzus.

“Ah, my child of the thrown stone, who’s favorite colors are black and blue,” Ajay intoned, “you must consult with Saraswati, the Hindu Goddess of wisdom and learning. Learn her ways and enlightenment…”

“Can’t you find me a shortcut?” Paris interrupted. “You still haven’t cum,” she suggested meaningfully. “If I bless you with an orgasm as good as the pair you gave me, will you show me how to do it?”

“Well, well, well,” Ajay said slowly. He sure could use another cum just about now. In fact, the way he felt? It would be even better if she made him cum twice. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Make her get me of with the same thunder as I just did to her. And then we’ll see.

“I think that could be arranged,” Ajay bargained. “However if you hurt me or play a trick on me, I’ll show you nothing whatsoever.” He draped his legs back over the sides of the tub and raised his hips out of the water. With the water’s heat and particularly the nasty joke she pulled on him, his prick was once again lying flaccidly over his balls, balls that were uncomfortably filled with desperate sperm thanks to her earlier but unfinished cock sucking prowess.

“This I will pledge to you, Mistress of Bald, Knobby Headed Women,” Ajay lilted seductively. “I have a great need to cum twice. Complete what you had started earlier minus the hand up my ass.”

“Can I use fingers, then?” Paris bargained.

‘Yes. Fingers only. I enjoyed your fist but too much of a good thing…”

“But what you really want is more of,” she stuck out her tongue and wiggled her pearl stud at him, “is this.”

“I believe you have found my weakness, Mistress of Road-Rashes and Rug Burns,” Ajay grinned. They both watched his cock as it took on a life of its own, visibly lifting off of his balls and them sliding toward the left. It kept rising on its own accord until his eager one-eyed snorkle stopped to stare her right in the eye. It was daring her to make it cum.

“Then, once I shoot, I want you to keep sucking it,” Ajay fantasized. “Keep it hard. It’ll be sensitive so I do not, I repeat, do not want you to hurt it.”

“Aw!” Paris stuck out her lower lip stubbornly. “Not even a little bit? I’ll make that good for you, too.”

“Well…” Ajay could well appreciate the power of strategically placed pain. He capitulated. “OK. Just a little bit.  But don’t let it wilt. Keep it good and hard and make it needy again. Then I’m gonna fuck the bejezzus out of you right here in this tub.”

Paris felt Ajay might be open to a little more bargaining. “If I do all that for you and let you fuck me too, then I want you to do something for me.”

“And what might that be, Sugar Plum Fairy of Cranial Contusions.”

“Exactly!”

“Huh?”

Paris explained. “As I have my head between your legs giving you head so fine that you will feel more entitled than a god on Mt. Olympus, I want you to, um, stroke my bald head,” she smirked as he frowned, “and play with my bumps.”

“Play with your bumps?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “You know, thump them with your finger. Dig into them with your knuckles. Press into them with your thumbs. Play with them.”

“While you’re sucking me off.”

“That’s right,” Paris confirmed. “While I’m giving you the most radical head you ever had you can keep me on track by playing with mine.” She watched him hesitate, but she knew how to get the right answer out of him. She said, sharply, loudly and forcefully: “OK?”

“OK.” Ajay said reflexively.

“Perfect! It’s settled then.” Paris smirked. Boys were so easy to manipulate. She slipped between Ajay’s legs, peeled the foreskin off his tender cock head and popped it into her mouth. Almost immediately he began to groan in pleasure. She watched him from under her eyelashes. With no further need for conversation, he leaned back fully against the back of the tub, draped his arms over the sides, and let his head loll back as the waves of intense pleasure reverberated through his body. She sucked hard, figuring, and rightly so, that he did not need much more teasing. Within seconds he was as hard as he had ever been.

As her fist grabbed his shaft just under his cock head, she attacked that purple crown with lips and tongue. Paris’s tongue flew; it created a pleasurable havoc wherever it landed. Dropping her fist lower, she popped more of the crown in her mouth and squirreled her piercing into his frenulum’s cleft. Up and down that pearlized marble flew, digging in deep, stimulating him in a way that only a man could appreciate. Ajay groaned again, a happy groan, a passion-rich groan, a groan that spoke volumes, confirming to her that she was doing everything right. Her hands cupped his low hangers. She pulled on them as a pair, then one at a time. Precum began to leak into her hotly sucking mouth as she scratched their sensitive underside. Ajay groaned deeply, now completely taken in by her climax inducing handiwork.

Paris released Ajay’s cock from her mouth with a loud pop. “Well?” she asked.

Ajay did not answer right away but he did notice she had stopped sucking. “Well…keep sucking. I’ll cum soon,” he answered, completely missing her point.

“No, dummy,” Paris corrected, tickling her fingers through his deeply cut abs. She was thinking about his promise of a hard, hopefully brutal fuck. She could just imagine how good he could fuck her with a body built like his. “Play with my head.”

“Oh.” Ajay opened his eyes, raised his head and contemplated her slick white cue ball of a head. He reached down and cupped it in his hands. Ah! At that Paris began sucking his cock again, this time bobbing on his first five inches. Her tongue, that pearl ball, never stopped. He could feel his choad rising. Ajay clamped down firmly, not yet ready to blow his load. The little piggy that he was, he wanted way more of what she was so enthusiastically giving. He wasn’t going to blow until her dynamic oral forced him to blow.

Ajay ran his fingers over the smooth white surface of her shaved bobbing head. Fuck but the thing had more bumps than a Chinese meditation-style Baoding ball. And they were all different sizes. He explored further, running his hands to the back of her head. Yikes! There were three sizable lumps back there, one the size of a golf ball and one the size of a walnut. Experimentally, looking into Paris’s eyes for guidance, he pressed on the largest with his thumb. As soon as he pressed those eyes smiled at him, a smile of suffering, a smile of pleasure. And, surprisingly, she sucked harder. Oooo, that was nice! Hmmmmm. Maybe playing with her bumps would have some upside for him after all. He pressed it again, harder. Paris sucked harder. Oh boy! This is going to be fun. Ajay easily found other bumps to press. He pressed them one at a time as if they were different buttons on an arcade game. Becoming more adept, he noticed that pressure on the biggest bumps made her suck the hardest.

What if he pressed on more than one bump at a time? Splaying the fingers of both hands about her head, he managed to place three fingers from each hand on bumps big and small. Again watching her eyes for her reaction, he pressed down firmly. Whoa! Yes! Her head shot forward; his cock sluiced down her throat. His eyes crossed in delight. She didn’t stop until her upper lip ground against his landing strip. When he let up she let up; his pocket-rocket came into view, glistening in spit slicked pleasure. She looked up at him, smiling as much as she could with a cock in her mouth, her shinning tearing eyes saying that all was good in her world. What a freak, he thought for the hundredth time.

Ajay grinned to himself. He was sure having fun and it was quite obvious so was Paris. He began to experiment by pressing bumps…he now thought of them as buttons…in various combinations. Those bumps were like buttons on a sucking machine. A human sucking machine that had the ability to go from a light touch to a rad deep throat in an instant. Press on only one and you get your cock crown gently sucked. Press on several and your cock got sucked in so deep it could identify the contents of her stomach. Press any combination of bumps, and Paris worked his prick differently each time. With so many bumps from which to choose there was no end to the variations. It made for one damn pleasurable, custom designed ride for needy boners. No, he amended. Not so much a ride but the ‘head’ version of Twister. Painting her ‘buttons’ different colors could easily make Twister, the Head Version a reality that any pervert would enjoy.

Paris knew that if she played the skinny teen right he would come through. Damn, but she could read ‘em. She was so lucky to have such a considerate lover that hurt her just right. Coupling her oral ministrations to his bump manipulations had been a sudden inspiration. And Ajay caught on immediately. If he wanted her to suck gently or if he wanted his cock grinding in her throat, there was a bump for it and anything in between. Every bump he had pressed was now either glowing or throbbing. The old ones glowed while the new ones throbbed. Would he press his knuckles into her bumps? That is what she really wanted. Even Queen Elizabeth, not the most sympathetic of women, hesitated when it came to that. The soft pad of a thumb is one thing but a hard knuckle is quite another. A shiver of excitement ran down her spine, trying to imagine how much agony that would create. She could hardly wait.

She did not have to wait for long. Ajay was thinking exactly along those same lines. Inwardly he shied away from doing so. But then he thought about it logically. One person’s pain is another person’s pleasure. She should change her name to something more appropriate. The romantic and peaceful ‘Paris’ was not right at all. This strange-ass bitch was one weird bird. He grinned. ‘Bagdad’ would be perfect.

Ajay quickly found that his arms were at the wrong angle to do the knuckle thing very efficiently. Well, he thought philosophically, maybe that is all to the better; karma was once again showing him the way. He could press only one knuckle per hand into specific buttons on her head or, if he made a fist, all the knuckles at once but not into any specific target. He went for a small bump, um, button just over her right temple. He pressed.

Suddenly her sucking became much more voluble, noisy, as she bared her teeth, his cock grinding into the back of her throat. Then he ground his other knuckle into a larger button, at top, right of center. Her fanatically shinning eyes welled up, mascara running in long streaks down her face. But when he ground them both into the knots on the back of her head, Paris’s face plunged down on his cock, her lips slapping into his pubic bone. Back into her throat, no gentle sucking for thee. She ground her throat’s cartilage against his tender flesh with a fiendishness not felt since last Tuesday when Nadine did the same thing to his orgasm-sensitized boner. It had hurt then but that was just after he had cum. This time Paris was delivering pure unadulterated pleasure. And the more he ground his knuckles into her, the harder she ground.

Both players groaned at the same time but for entirely different reasons. For Ajay, her oral was nothing short of brilliant. His cock head never had it so good as it scraped against her throat’s ridges. Ajay felt his spunk trying hard to crack the lock of his clench as the rough pleasure swept him closer to climax.

Paris was living the pain just as fully as Ajay his pleasure. The wicked agony from her bruised skull flew like carefully knapped Neolithic obsidian tipped spears into every corner of her body. She goose bumped as adrenaline coursed into her veins; her bruised clitty rapidly engorged sending crazy-bone like sensations to her brain. Her pussy lips flooded with energizing blood as well. Damn! If she had not promised to suck him off first, she would now be demanding that he fuck the ‘bejezzus’ out of her like he promised. Only one way to get fucked faster. Force him to cum. Make this dirty little monkey blow his load.

Ajay’s eyes slammed wide open when Paris’s heady head shifted into overdrive. Cradling her creepy bald head in his hands, he did nothing to hold her back as she sucked on him hard and fast. That pearl ball flew around his cock head with the same speed as the steel ball in a roughly shaken Rust-Oleum spray can. He could feel the pre-cum shoot up his urethra, emptying his prostate, as she sucked with intensity three time greater than what came before. He ground a knuckle into a knot and damn if pressing that button got his prick plunging all the way down her throat again. Feeling wicked, he ground two of her knots. Out of her throat his prick flew, the head of his cock now centered in her clasping, undulating mouth. Oh, that tongue worked miracles as it slashed his prick head with unmistakable intent.

“Oh Great Protector of Pliant Bung Holes!” Ajay squeaked suddenly as two wiggling fingers shot up his ass, twisting and turning as they went. He again went silent as Paris’s other hand jerked his shaft in a frenzy of action not seen since Bill and Hillary suckered Loretta Lynch and the FBI into giving her pathetic e-mail crimes an illegal pass. He was still holding back but his clench was quickly weakening. Goading Paris to make him cum, he pressed eight fingers into her buttons, much easier for him to do now that her head was stationary. Paris reacted like an animal, her cheeks concave, sucking so hard that the vacuum she created rivaled that of deep space. At the same time that pearl ball felt like a wrecking ball as it viciously hammered into his fissioning frenulum.

Ajay groaned in abject ecstasy. His clench, now a thing of the past, was replaced with a rising tide of orgasmic expression that could result in only one thing. His groin spastically began to pump, weakly at first, sending gouts of electric sensation from his flaming cock head to each rejoicing cell in his body. Looking down at the furiously working masochist, he realized that she, too, could feel his groin pumping through his shaft. Her mouth popped off the end of his prick and her hand became a blur as she beat his cock as fast as her thin arm would allow.

Oh my merciful gods! No longer had he any control. It was all her; smegma was her certain destiny. His groin rallied to pump with the same initial back pressure of a geothermic geyser. Her hand flew; the pressure built, triggering his flash point. Suddenly he lost it. The snap of climax was so intense that each and every soap bubble in the tub burst in sympathetic empathy. Jamming two more fingers up his ass, her speeding hand propelled a garland of thick white spunk into the air that moved so rapidly and so forcefully that if the Space Agency had known about it they would have upgraded their Saturn rockets to match. In rapid succession three, four, five more shots followed, each just as motivated, each just as euphoric as the first.

As most women tend to do, Paris let it rain all over him, crisscrossing his deeply tanned body until he looked like Frosty the Indian Snowman.

Paris was amazed by the speed and the quantity of this boy’s jizzum as he spewed everywhere. She deliberately let it splat against his body, the prerogative of any victorious stroker artiste. Those first shots flew up like a surface-to-air missile and then, in a tight arc, rained back down. It was a sight to behold. As his blasts of boy-juice became less intense, she reached deeply into his ass and stroked his frantic prostate into one last brilliant contraction. Ajay sent a spectacular shower of pre-cum and frenzied spermies summersaulting through the air looking but failing to find a high-wire swing to hand on to. It rained down on both of them in a mix of clear and white droplets reminiscent of a lawn sprinkler set on ‘Mist’. As his ejaculations tapered off, flowing down the outside of his purpled prick, jizz began flying off her hand in every direction.

Ajay groaned loudly, the brilliant sensations overwhelming his senses, as she again buried his cockhead in her mouth. While still stroking the shaft with a maniacal frenzy, she scoured the rapidly sensitizing head, grazed his steel shaft with her piercing and sucked the last of his white gump directly from the source. The oral was so fine, especially now that his sensitivity was peaking. But like any male pig, he wanted that little bit more, the cream de la crème, that bit of elevated pleasure that was so exceptional it bordered on pain. So he knuckled two of Paris’s larger bumps. Yikes almighty!!! The suction on his cock crown was so great he was sure she was sucking blood through the porous skin of his purpled crown. Hastily jerking his hands from her head, Paris’s sucking prowess dialed back to the merely stupendous. Ajay breathed hard, gasping for breath, feeling like he just ran five miles. Covered in his own cum and bathed in sweat, he took a deep breath and dunked himself in the water, no longer that hot but still very refreshing.

Paris grinned in victory. Now that was how to make a boy cum! She watched amused as her submerged young stud squeegeed the smegma from his body. Exploding out of the water, she shrieked playfully as he roughly took her in his arms and blessed her with a tender kiss. He pulled away to look her in the eyes. She blushed as he grinned at her, obviously impressed as all get-out by her exemplary oral. Paris grinned right back, eager to get the ‘bejezzus’ fucked out of her. Maybe he would crush her little button again, too. She could only hope.

“Damn girl!” Ajay exclaimed, the internal glow as warm as the noonday sun, “you are one hell of a cock sucker.”

“Glad ja liked it,” she giggled. “Loved the way you played with my bumps.” Paris had a headache…and it was a nice one. She thought to herself that if she had the power, she would redefine ‘headache’ as being on the outside of the skull, not on the inside.

“I did OK?” Ajay asked. “I was not sure how far to take it.”

“OK? No, you were not OK,” Paris praised, “You were exceptional. There were two bests. When you pressed like six or eight bumps at the same time and when you ground your boney knuckles into the newest ones we made today.” Now that Ajay’s butt was once again sitting on the bottom of the tub she was able to get her legs around him and shimmy onto his lap. She wrapped her legs and arms around him, kissing him with undisguised passion.

“Are you horny,” Ajay asked, “you naughty bald punching bag of a little girl?” Ajay hissed as Paris rubbed her pussy against his boner. Sucking him off sure did get her wound up, he observed. Not to mention playing with her bumps.

“Ajay,” Paris purred in his ear, “You big bad hunk. I am so rammy. You have no idea.” Again she rubbed herself against his stiffy. “Can’t you fuck me now?” she pouted. “Please?”

“It is a bit too sensitive right now, I have to admit,” Ajay calmly explained. “But you could suck it lightly ‘til it’s ready to enter the breach once again and…”

“Noo-ooo!” Paris cried, her empty coochie distractingly palpitating. Impulsively, knowing what might change his mind in seconds, she rose from the water and stood directly in front of him. She watched him stare unabashedly at her bald camel toe. Lifting a leg, placing her foot on the tub’s lip, she slid the fingers of one hand down her body to her now wide open gash. With two fingers she spread herself wide. With her other hand she reached for his. She slipped three of his fingers inside. As she hoped, Ajay began fucking and twisting them in her little hole.

Paris groaned the enticing groan of the sexually frustrated, the sexually needy. That style groan turned on men like no other. As Ajay played in her throbbing cunny, she undulated her hips; the slow motion erotic version of a classic Hawaiian hula. Then, like a mermaid scheming to make a lonely sailor impetuously jump into the sea, she raised her arms overhead and stretching out her thin body, throwing herself into the most carnal, slowest paced hula Ajay had ever seen.

Ajay’s libido knew no limits. If the stimulus was right, it took little effort for him to go from a Tired Teddy to a snorting randy Centaur. Turning his fingers in her squelching pussy was like plugged himself into an electric car charging station, a station that took merely seconds to give a full charge. His prick never lost its nominal stiffness…but that was not the point. That undulating pussy he was plugged into stoked his desire, his will to fuck and recharged his stamina in a way no preliminary blow job ever could. His body knew before his mind did that his battery was topped off. Just then he felt his prick getting harder, getting ready. By George, it was ready! What was he waiting for he asked himself as his cock, in a trice, turned back into a teak post.

With a wild roar Ajay rose to his feet. Paris squealed in delight as he turned her away from him, put her leg back up on the edge of the tub and bent her over. His mouth literally watered when he saw those aroused, ruby red pussy lips framed by that svelte, white-as-snow narrow ass. Her empty hole beckoned.   Bending his stiff rod down, he sidled up to her ass, lined it up and throwing caution to the winds, slid all eight of his inches into her in one long breathtaking go.

Paris squealed again, swooning from the sensations that only a thick hard Tamil cock could bring. After only four of five tentative thrusts, her inexhaustible boy toy was throwing it to her with more panache than Andy Murray defeating Milos Raonic at Wimbledon.

END OF EXCERPT  

To read the book, Queen Elizabeth Goes Bughouse on Beacon Hill in its entirety, please go to the Smashwords Publishing e-Book website.   You may purchase this unparalleled masterpiece in S/M literature there.  Clicking on the following link will take you there.

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