The List 25: Its Hair is for Being Pulled

Click here to start with Part 1

Previously: The trunk lid slammed close, and she walked around the car to the front. Her purse hit the passenger’s seat with a thump, and she hit the garage door opener as she started the car. They pulled out of the garage, down the drive, and onto the street. She hit play on the CD player and started driving, thinking about what she was going to do next.

She drove around in circles with him in the trunk, flipping the CD player from song to song with short, impatient jabs. Scenarios ran through her mind, vignettes of torture and degradation that she considered and rejected. Finally her eyes narrowed, and she made a U-turn and headed back to their house. She opened the garage door from the street so he wouldn’t hear the noise and drove by, going around the block and pulling slowly into the garage.

The pillow case on his head trapped his breath, turning the skin on his face hot and clammy while his body shivered in the trunk. His cock and balls still burned with the steady chemical heat, and he flexed his shoulders to work out the tension from having his hands chained behind his back. He tried to imagine what might happen next, his cock twitching in spite of the pain still radiating through his body as he imagined being forced to suffer and do horrible things until her hunger was sated on his torture. Of humiliation and degradation that would end when she was done with him, and not before. His head thumped against the back seat as the car came to a stop, and he wiped the sweat off his palms.

She grabbed her purse and slid out of the car, then walked around to the trunk. She pulled the strapon from her purse and balanced on one foot as she fed a leg through the harness, then jerked the straps, cinching them down tight and buckling them in place over her clothes. She found a place on a clean shelf to put her purse, and got out the small pair of scissors she carried. She walked over to the trunk, slid the key in, took a deep breath, and gave it a twist.

He jumped at the sound of the mechanical clunk and shivered as cool air flooded the trunk. “Stay still, I’d hate to cut anything off accidentally.” Her voice came to him through the cloth and he froze in the act of turning his face towards the back of the car. Her hand slid down his face, molding the cloth to his features, going down over his nose and stopping at his lips. The cloth moved away from his face, and then flattened and tore. Metal jaws appeared through the cloth and with small chewing motions tore through until there was a hole in the pillowcase. The scissors disappeared and then he felt the hand back on the top of his head, pulling the pillow case away and cutting another hole in the top.

“Get out.” She tossed the scissors in the trunk and guided his awkward movements over the lip of the trunk and onto the concrete floor. She purred in pleasure as he automatically sank to his knees, both of them gasping as they hit the cold concrete. “Oh, fuck it.” She reached through the hole on the top of the pillow case and grabbed a handful of hair, turning her wrist and wrenching the filaments tight, pulling his scalp away from his skull. “I was going to do a mindfuck, but…” She moaned, trying to remember the elaborate plan. “Tell you the person you gave such bad advice to was here for an apology blowjob, but you know what? I don’t want to share you, I just want to fuck your face.”

She fed the dildo through the hole in the pillow case, pushing it past the slight resistance as the latex tip slid off his cheek and into his mouth. Her hand jerked his hair towards her and his head followed, the dildo filling his mouth, then her hand shoving his head back, dragging it across his lips. Drool ran down his chin as she sawed his head back and forth on the cock, fucking his face, sliding it in until he started to gurgle then jerking it back out.

His muscles slumped every time she pulled on his hair, signs of resistance evaporating under her control. “I could do just about anything to you, as long as I pulled your hair, couldn’t I?” A long gurgle came out of the pillow case, and she nodded back. “Oh yes, you turn into a complete slut when someone pulls on your hair.” She flicked her hand back and forth, jerking his hair one way then the other, to confirm it, and then sighed and tried to keep her hips perfectly still as she worked his mouth up and down her cock. “I could drag you down this street on your knees with my cock in your mouth, and as long as I pulled your hair, you’d be the happiest little slut in town.”

Happy sighs murmured past her lips as she raped his face, making him gag on her cock and dragging spit out of his mouth. She closed her eyes and suddenly stopped, holding his head in place with the cock halfway in his mouth, prying his lips open, disappearing into the white cloth that left him a little less than human. A perfect moment of contentment washed over her, and the tension ran out of her muscles. She stood there silently enjoying it until it washed away, then reluctantly pulled the cock all the way out of his mouth.

“Come on, get up.” She helped him to his feet, and reached around to shut the trunk of the car behind him. She carefully led him into the house, grabbing her purse and shutting the garage door as they walked by. She walked him into the bathroom, and raised an eyebrow, looking at him one last time before raising the pillow case and pulling it off his head. He blinked at the sudden light as she pursed her lips and shrugged. “That’s it, end of the list. What now?”

Preview: The grand finale! Or more of an epilogue really. Maybe some sort of closure? Were they dead the entire time? What a twist that would be!

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

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Heroes and Villians

This story originally appeared in the Erotica Readers & Writers Association Story Gallery, November 2013. It was revised with some very helpful feedback from the kind folks there.

Most people pay professionals to fill their evenings with artificial and gratuitous violence, nudity, and bad dialogue. Some people prefer to make their own.

She saved her spreadsheet, shut down the computer, and headed for the exit. Moving across the parking lot a co-worker waved, and asked if she was going out for drinks. She waved back and smiled, but shook her head no. “Can’t! Movie night!” She grinned brightly and bounced across the asphalt to her car, sliding behind the wheel and slamming keys into the ignition. The bright orange toy gun rode along on the floorboard beside her.

He slipped into the elevator just as the doors closed, stepping to the side and putting his back against the wall. After a moment of silence his supervisor asked him if he had plans that night, with the monotone voice of someone who has the same plans every night. He grinned and nodded at his boss. “Movie night!” The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and he strode quickly to his car, taking his tie off and throwing it in the back seat. It landed on a plastic pirate sword.

He came in through the garage, holding the pirate sword at his side and walking into the kitchen. A soundtrack was playing, something with a lot of percussion and brass. Heavy and thudding and designed to create an adrenalin rush. She was already sitting at the small table in the corner, wet hair wrapped in a towel and wearing a bathrobe. She pointed the toy gun at his chest.

They stared at each other, grinning. She slowly stood up, moving away from the table and keeping the gun on him. She licked her lips, and finally spoke. “So…”

He arched an eyebrow, and struck a pose he deemed sufficiently manly. He brought the pirate sword up, and inhaled sharply to inflate his chest. “Bruce Freedom is my name! You’ve probably heard of me, the world’s most famous spy and criminal detective, retired, but back in the game after my former partner was killed two days before his retirement.”

She smirked and answered in an atrociously heavy and thick Russian accent. “Ah, Bruce Freedom, we meet at last American-pig-dog capitalist assassin swine. I assume you are here to attempt to steal my country’s plans for glorious Communist doomsday device, no? Well, Super Agent Pushitin Buttockskis, who is me, shall thwart your plan to save puny planet. I shall kill you, just as I killed your partner.”

“Now lookie here…” His sudden and hideous Texas drawl made his words slow. “Missus Pushitin Buttockskis, that doomsday device cannot be allowed to fall into the godless commie hands, talons, tentacles, or other appendages of your government, with its known penchant for freedom destroying and liberty hating.”

They started to circle the kitchen, slowly, warily, keeping their eyes firmly locked on each other. The microwave clock was the counter on the doomsday device, the blender an elaborate torture instrument.

She snarled at him as she slipped between the table and the wall, still circling. “Miss Pushitin Buttockskis, actually. I turn my husband over to beloved cruel totalitarian dictator for exploiting the proletariat. Traitorous husband offered neighbor boy five dollars to rake leaves. Of course he was decapitated to death, for glorious revolution, as was neighbor boy for listening to offer.”

He stepped around the microwave cart, and doffed an imaginary hat. “My condolences on the passing of your late toolbox of a horrible nightmare regime husband, ma’am. But I’ll still be needing those plans.”

She moved towards him with an exaggerated step. Her knee poked out of the worn green bathrobe before it fell back around her body. “But I have gun and this is totalitarian secret science base. Thousands of KGB guards will pour through door at slightest sound, and even you will not survive, Bruce Freedom. So tell me, how do you think you will take plans from me, who is elitist evilist superist agent of entire evil world government?”

“With this, ma’am.” He dropped his plastic pirate sword, kicked his shoes off and pushed his pants and underwear down in what he hoped was a dramatic motion, then stepped out of them while thrusting his hips forward. “DUN-DA-DUN!” He thrust his hips back and forward again. “The world’s most freedom-loving penis.”

“Hah!” She threw the gun to the floor and her bathrobe followed. She jerked the strapon hanging from her waist up with both hands. “Evil totalitarian regime penis is much superior! Is strong like bull, and sexy like tractor!”

He laughed in spite of himself, then forced his face back to deadly seriousness. “Well, I have to give you credit for commie unpredictability, Miss Buttockskis, I was not expecting to see that kind of tackle on your hips.”

“Really?” She arched a shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Because name is kind of… big hint. You know what I say, like, dude, spoiler alert.”

“I was blinded my love for freedom ma’am, but now I see how diabolical your evil is. I shall have to take your penis from you, to protect lady liberty from unwanted vaginal penetration with a foreign object. Or any other penetration.” He made the last word into at least six syllables, then moved towards her.

She snarled back at him and kicked the bathrobe away. Her arms spread wide she growled, “Come and get at me, imperialist social safety net hating swine bro!”

He grinned at her and grabbed her shoulders, trying to twist her around so he would be behind her, with her bright red cock pointed the other way. She grinned back and clamped her mouth down on his bicep, pushing her teeth together, worrying the muscle with her jaws.

“Fuck!” His drawl forgotten he loosened his grip on her shoulder, trying to move his arm with the jerking motion of her head and lessen the pain.

“Muhahahah.” She let out a cartoon villain laugh, muffled by the mouthful of skin and tissue wrapped around her lips. She jerked her shoulder out of his hand and stepped in closer. She opened her mouth and let him pull his arm free, then punched him in the upper leg one, two, three times, hard.

He winced and stepped back. She followed him across the room, punching him in the same spot on his leg with short, hard jabs until his back slapped the wall.

“On your knees pig.” She kept the accent, punching him between his sharp exhalations and profanities until he held his hands up in surrender and sank to his knees. She spread her legs and positioned herself above him, sneering down. “Now, let us see how you like taste of glorious authoritarian cock.”

He opened his mouth and she shoved the dildo between his lips until he gagged, choking as it hit the back of his throat. She pushed his head back against the kitchen wall, holding it there and fucking his face, reveling in the control. She could distort his face by shoving the cock into a cheek, sawing back and forth and watching his jaw bulge obscenely. She could make him gag by sliding it to the back of his throat, or suffocate him by pushing a little further.

She played his face like a broken orchestra, pulling all the sounds a person makes to indicate wrongness out of his mouth, one at a time, then in combinations. Gags, wet sloppy snorts, coughs, hacking sounds, retching, bile filled gasps, and congested moans.

Drool poured from his mouth, coating the fake cock and running down his chin. It dripped onto the floor beneath them, and left streamers of glistening wetness from his mouth to her cock when she pulled it out. Her breathing was hard and fast, and she slapped him across the jaw with the fake cock, one side of his face and then the other.

“Swine, you give very sloppy blowjob, but glorious revolution saliva is much better.” The accent was less outrageous now, and she forced his head back, making him look up at her as she leaned over. Her spit splattered across his forehead, running down into his eyes. “Open wide, pig whore.” She could have wrapped her fingers around his jaw and forced his mouth open. She wanted him to do it to himself.

He took a deep breath and his jaw fell open. She let the spit dribble out from between her lips, and hang between them, then worked her jaw muscles. It fell into his mouth and she smiled down at him. “Disgusting. Swallow and tell me how superior my spit is.”

He closed his mouth enough to swallow, and she felt his head try to flinch in her grasp. “Your spit is very superior, Miss Pushitin.” His Texas drawl was completely gone.

She dragged him away from the wall by his hair. He followed her on all fours like an animal, his throat sore and his face still wet, liquid running it across it in new directions and dripping as his body changed positions.

She dragged him to the center of the room, and pushed his face down with her foot until it hit the floor. She paused for a second to enjoy the view of him, naked from the waist down, on all fours, back already arched and legs spread and vulnerable. Then she walked around behind his prostrate body.

Her foot kicked his legs a little further apart, just to prove she could, then she lowered her body until the strapon lined up with his ass. She spit on his asshole, and jammed a finger inside of him hard. She was eager now, and hungry to violate him, to see him hanging off her cock like a spitted animal.

They both groaned in anticipation as she pushed the tip of her cock against his ass. His body tensed until he forced himself to relax, to accept the penetration as the plastic slid inside. She felt the pressure building against the outside of her cunt, mashing nerve endings together as her hips slid forward.

Centimeter by centimeter it slid further inside of him, relentless, until he raised his head and moaned. A deep, despairing animal sound that made her pause. “It’s almost all the way in.” Her voice was her own again. She spit on the cock protruding from inside him, and waited for him to take a deep breath. Then she shoved again.

His breath whooshed out, but she felt her hips rubbing against his skin. She held him there, savoring the feeling of control, twitching her hips just enough to remind them both of the pressure between their bodies. She pushed the palms of her hands up his back, then dragged her nails back down.

He moaned at the sensation, trying to ignore the protests of his asshole.

She massaged his back and dragged her nails along his skin until she felt the muscles relax, then started to fuck him. Her cock slid out and back in, pushing against her clit in rhythmic bursts. She could tell when he remembered to try to relax, and when he involuntarily clenched, and it made delicious changes in the sensations washing up to her from her cunt.

Her hips started to thrust faster, blending it into one long, delicious hammering of her clit until she was slamming her body against his, desperately needing to get off. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead, and she growled down at his body, determined to use it to satisfy herself. Finally, one leg thrust out behind her and she shoved herself against him, hard, crashing into him and holding herself there. A deep moan poured out of her throat, and she held herself on top of him, resting on his back.

She rode out the orgasm, then slowly slid her cock out of his body. He felt cold air where hard plastic had been seconds before, and flopped down on his side. She lay down on the floor behind him, and wrapped her arms around his body, pulling him close. The linoleum was cool against their skin, and they lay there until their breathing slowed. She kissed the back of his neck, then moved her lips close to his ear. “Well, world is fucked, audience is pissed, and critics hate movie. But there is always chance for sequel, no?”

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Smells

“Real animals rely on their sense of smell. So I’m going to help you out with that.” She wrapped the band of the blindfold around his head, then carefully pulled a hood down over it, completely blocking his eyes with two layers of cloth. “Can you see anything?”

He blinked, feeling his eyelids rub against the cloth. “No ma’am.” He mentally shrugged and closed his eyes. It was more comfortable that way. “I can’t see anything.”

“Down on all fours.”

He dropped to all fours, felt the collar wrapping around his next. The chain leash brushed the side of his face, and he was being dragged along. He followed blindly, crawling along the floor on his hands and knees until he heard her voice.

“Stop.” He put his hand back down, stopping, knees and hands pressed down into the floor.

Something disturbed the air in front of his nose and he instinctively flinched a little. A chuckle came from above him, and then her voice. “Smell, pet, and tell me what you’re smelling.”

A slight acrid scent that reminded him of jackets and winter. “Leather, ma’am?”

“Good boy. When you get one correct, you get something you like. In this case, it’s a belt.” He tensed right before he heard the swish-woosh and felt the strip of leather smack into his ass.

It slapped him several more times, and he rocked his hips back and forth, trying to breathe in time with her blows. Warmth and pain spread through his body, and his mind started to get fuzzy while his cock twitched.

Finally, it stopped. “Thank you ma’am.”

“You’re welcome pet. Now tell me what this smells like.”

He shook his head, and scrunched his face up under the mask. It was a heavy, hard smell that reminded him of oil and machinery. “Metal, ma’am? Steel?”

He felt her hand pat his head. “Very good.”

He could suddenly sense her body near him, and swallowed hard. Metal wrapped around one wrist, and the clicking sound told him a handcuff was being ratcheted down. He let her slide his other wrist closer, felt the metal bracelet wrap around it as well. He shifted his knees slightly wider, and tried to compensate for the unbalanced position of his shoulders with his legs.

“Next.” He breathed in through his nose, and the scent of glossy magazines and porn stores filled his nostrils. His face scrunched up, and his head recoiled slightly. “Pornography ma’am? A DVD or magazine?”

“Tsk tsk. Nope. And when you don’t get them right, you don’t get to breathe.”

Her hands clamped down over his nostrils and his mouth, sealing his lungs off from air. He forced himself to remain still, to not waste the oxygen in his blood, to obey. He forced himself to stay still until her hands released his face, then gasped, taking in large, heavy breaths.

“Try again.”

The smell filled his nostrils again, and he licked his lips. It still reminded him of porn stores and plastic…

“Latex, ma’am?”

“Good boy.” He could feel her grin. “You got it right that time. Specifically, it’s a nice green strapon cock. Give it a kiss.”

He opened his mouth and cautiously moved his face forward, turning it from side to side, sweeping the area before him. His cheek brushed against something and he moved his lips in that direction, finally finding the tip of her cock with his mouth. He pursed his lips, giving it a light kiss on the end.

It slid into his mouth, pushing past his lips, and he held very still. “Not like that. Kiss it like you mean it, pet.”

He started slowly working his lips around the head of the cock, bringing some saliva up with his tongue and jaw muscles, sucking, licking, and nursing at the end of her fake cock.

“That’s better.” It slid out of his mouth, and left a trail of spit that shimmered and then broke in the air. He swallowed, and waited.

He could hear her moving, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “You’re going to have to wait for your reward.” More movement.

“Now, this is the last one, and I’ll warn you it’s a little tricky. It’s actually two scents. You’ll need to get both right, and if you don’t, I’ll be a little disappointed.”

A little of the warmth and softness left his thoughts, and he tensed, wanting to please her. “Yes ma’am.”

The scent of leather filled his nostrils again, stronger this time. But there was something else in the background, a wet, biological, slightly earthy aroma. He smiled at where he imagined her to be. “Leather and cunt, ma’am?”

He could feel her approval. “Good pet! Yes, specifically, my leather boots that I jerked off with and rubbed my cunt all over last night.” Her mouth was suddenly next to his ear, listening. “I’ve been wanting to ass-fuck you for awhile, but I’ve been making myself wait until you earned it. Now, since you’ve been a good pet, you’re going to lick my dried juices off that boot while I fuck both of us into oblivion. Do you like the sound of that?”

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am.” He nodded vigorously, and the words came out in a rush.

“Good.” He felt her fingers under the mask, and a sudden rush of cool air came across his skin as she pulled it away. The blindfold came off next, and he blinked his eyes at the sudden light.

Her boots were on the floor in front of them, black, round chunks of leather with laces hanging off the sides. “May I please start ma’am.”

She was already behind him, eager and hungry, massaging lube up and down her cock, jerking it off. “Yes pet, but from now on no talking. Good pets don’t talk. You can bark or growl, but I don’t want to hear any words. Understand?”

He looked back and barked once.

They grinned at each other.

She moaned deep in her throat, and lowered her hips. “Lick my fucking boots clean while I fuck your ass. I want them to shine.”

He opened his mouth, and moved his head forward, tongue out. Just before it reached the leather he paused for a second, and breathed in deeply, enjoying the smell.

Preview: Another exciting chapter in the Choose Your Own Adventure Story! What fates awaits Navaux this week? Did you remember to vote? Remember, democracy!

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.