Wyoming
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Ming free porn video
MING
©2005 by C.A.Smith
In collaboration with a real, live Ming
whose fantasy inspired the story.
Chapter 1
Was it bravery or boredom that had made her do it? Ming certainly wasn'tthe gambling kind. Or, at least, never had been. And she was not kinky!Not really. Not her real self. Not counting the stuff Lyle had brought intoher life. But she wouldn't have done those things if it weren't for tryingto please him . She just went along with it. Althoughshe couldn't in all honesty deny that it turned her on. Some of it. Well, mostof it, actually. Was it her fault that her body responded with huge orgasms?She had no control over that. She didn't want it to happen, but it did. Andwho could blame her for craving more of it, for letting him do those disgustingthings to her when it led to such shatteringly delicious results?
"You need to come out of your shell," he had told her.
Well, she had certainly done that .
It had started out as their own private play, but it wasn't long before hemade it obvious that if she hoped to continue their relationship she wouldhave to start going with him to his "Club." Be his partner. His submissive.Expand their play to include his friends. And she had to admit she had agreedto it of her own free will. Partly out of curiosity, of course. And partlybecause her long suppressed wild side had been longing to break free, takerisks! But the biggest part, the deal sealer, was her fear of losing him ifshe chickened out. He was too good a catch to let slip away just to preserveher preconceived notions of modesty.
Lyle didn't share those notions. He openly scoffed at her parent's old-worldsense of decorum. Made it clear that he considered modesty and virginity uselesstraits. Worse than useless: unattractive and pretentious. What he valued ina woman was sensuality and a single-minded desire to please her man. In otherwords (words he never actually spoke, but clearly implied), if she wanted tokeep the handsome Dr. Lyle Bach as her boyfriend (not to mention her dreamof a more permanent arrangement), she needed to chuck her pre-Lyle conceptsof propriety and adopt his.
So she did.
It wasn't so hard, actually, except for the first time she had to strip nakedin front of a room full of people, then hang chained up and helpless as hehung things from her tits and stuffed things up her vagina for their amusement!But she got used to it. In fact, truth be told, it was probably the embarrassmentof doing such intensely private things in public that made her orgasms so explosive.
Still, none of that was anything like this! This was monstrous! It made hertremble to think of it! It made her sick with fear. But it also made her damp.
There was a darker possibility as well that might explain why she had agreedto this new madness. Perhaps it was just her perverted way of expressing ananger she did not dare put into words. She had agreed, after all, as part ofthe lifestyle she had entered into with him, that Lyle was free to fuck anyonehe so desired. He had made it clear that he didn't believe in monogamy andwould not restrict himself to any one sex partner, nor should she, either.She had swallowed her pride and bought into it. Why not? She was young, sexuallyoverheated and crazily in love.
But free love for all concerned was not how it played out in actual practice.As it turned out, he alone, as "the loving Dominant" in their relationship,would choose all the alternate sexual partners for both of them. In short,he could fuck every woman who struck his fancy and was willing to drop herpanties, including God knows how many, nurses, colleagues, patients and casualpick-ups at God knows how many of the bars he popped into on the way home.Ming, on the other hand, was required to wait until it pleased him to offerher to a dinner guest or to one of the guys at the Iron Feather Club. Oftenshe was presented in trade for some other woman's favors. Sometimes she (ormore specifically, her cunt) was merely collateral in a poker game.
In fairness, sometimes the loan of her body worked out well for her. Someof the guys at the Club were hot! Two in particular, Jason and Kyle, made herleak rivers! Just thinking of them — their thick, curly hair, their hardmuscular bodies, their mouths on her lips and throat and breasts, their teethnibbling at her nipples — always made her tingle. But most of the Clubdoms were overweight louts breathing stale tobacco at her as they pumped away,oblivious to her discomfort and unconcerned that merely loading her littleAsian vagina with semen did nothing to stir her own feminine libido. They assumedshe had closed her eyes to enjoy the feel of their cocks slamming into her,hoping it would go on and on. When, in fact, she was hoping they would cumsoon and get off her. When, in fact, she was trying to distract herself fromthe squishing and slapping at her crotch by envisioning Lyle's sweet squareface and remembering his gentle touch. When, in fact, she was nursing a deepeningresentment of the love he squandered on his many easy conquests, on the bustybimbos who clenched his manhood in their hot, wet twats and moaned in an ecstacythat he should have been providing her . That was rightfullyhers!
Was that why she had taken this insane chance? Her desperate jealousy? Washer acquiescence just a ploy to win back his full attention? Well, of courseit was. He named the tune and she danced to it. He hummed; and she — gownedand bejeweled, or naked and demeaned — danced.
Would taking this risk bring back the old loving Lyle? Was his promise worthanything? Would he really change? Winning the draw might or might not resultin recapturing Lyle's wholehearted affections, whereas losing was a definiteend to everything. There would be no going back. Death is permanent.
More than that, if she lost, hers would be no ordinary death. She had alreadywitnessed what they did to three young women on three earlier occasions, threepretty girls who had also gambled. And who lost. Maybe they, too, had beentrying to salvage a souring relationship. Maybe they, too, thought holdingon to their lovers was a prize worth risking all to win. Perhaps they, likeher, were reassured by the fact that the odds were greatly in their favor.Or maybe, like her, they found themselves strangely excited by the risk, whateverthe outcome.
Was that why Ming hadn't put up more resistance? Did she get as much a rushout of the possibility of losing as the hope of winning? Was she that crazy?
At the beginning, of course, it seemed relatively innocuous. A harmless agreementto an enigmatic invitation backed by a thrilling promise. She remembered theconversation well.
"You've really been enjoying yourself at the Club lately, haven't you?" hehad asked, his wilting rod still entrenched deep within her, slippery now withtheir combined juices.
"It's okay." Her gradually slowing heartbeat made her voice quiver.
"It's okay," he mimicked, licking her upper lip and the side of her nose. "Don'tgive me the 'it's okay' act. I've seen your eyes sparkle with lust and heardyou scream."
"Women can fake stuff, you know."
"They can't fake the stuff that pours out of your pretty little love canalwhile you're getting worked up. Did you know you cream when I tie you up? Youcream harder when I flog those firm little Chinese tits or cane that tawnyass or those shapely thighs." He ran a hand over her breasts and belly as hetalked, letting it trail down through the little black furry patch. "You creammost of all when you're chained down to a mattress to be a whore toy to a bunchof horny bikers." He quickly clamped his mouth over hers to stanch the automaticprotest before it could move from her dark almond eyes to her lips. "So don'tgive me that 'it's okay' shit," he whispered into her mouth, holding his lipsfirmly against hers, ready to bite off her words, letting his fingers slipbetween her labia, still slick from love-making, replacing his withdrawn memberwhile stroking her still wet and swollen clit with his thumb, giving her littleafter-thrills. "Admit you like it my exotic little sexpot. Admit you enjoywatching me get hard binding you up and mistreating you like the lovely littleOriental slut you are. Say you love it!"
He lifted his face a millimeter to let her answer, feeling her lips brushhis as they moved, her breath still slightly tinged with the fragrance of theejaculate she had swallowed earlier.
"I love you , my darling."
"Not good enough, Ming. I cannot accept your profession of love for me unlessyou also confess to loving the places I take you and the pleasures I sharewith you. How can you love me if you do not love doing the things that giveme pleasure? I love you, my sweet little Chinese tart, because you are different.You are daring. You wholeheartedly submit yourself to my desires. You giveyourself without hesitation to the things I enjoy. You submit your beautiful,exotic body to whatever uses I desire because it turns me on and makes me loveyou beyond all reason. You know that the Iron Feather Club is one of my greatestpleasures and that in joining me there as my fully submissive partner you havegiven me great delight! So tell me you love it, too."
"I love it."
"You love what? Spell it out."
Ming squirmed under his weight, pretending to attempt escape, but he pinnedher down. She sighed in surrender.
"I love to make you happy," she said. "Going to the Club makes you happy.So I love to go the Club with you."
"And if there were more I wanted of you? Other places I wanted to take you?"
"Whither you go, I shall go," she responded, vaguely quoting some famousremark she'd read somewhere.
"There is a place I want you to go. Want to take you to. It's very importantto me. Will you go?"
"Of course. Where is it?"
"It's not so much a place as an organization. It's called the MillenniumGroup."
"What do they do? Is it more BDSM?"
"No. Quite different. It's a secret group. They meet quarterly for a banquet."
"So what's so secret about a banquet?"
"They do scary things at these banquets. Exciting things. But quite . . .illicit."
"Drugs? I won't do drugs."
"No drugs."
"So what's so scary?"
"I won't tell you. You'll see for yourself. If you agree to go."
"I've already agreed to go. But why won't you give me some clue as to whatgoes on that makes it so scary, and . . . what did you call it? Illicit?"
"I have my reasons."
"So maybe I'll change my mind. Maybe I won't go. Maybe I'm already too scared."
"You'll go because you love me. You'll go because it's what I want. Becauseif you go it will demonstrate that you are the girl I thought you were whenwe first started dating. When you moved in with me."
"I've always given in to you on sexual stuff, yes. And the bondage and discipline.Because I love you too much to say no to any of it. Even screwing other guys,since that's what you want. And only because you wantit. But now you're talking illegal stuff. That's what you really mean, isn'tit? Illicit means illegal. And when you say it's scary . . . well shit, thatcould mean anything. It's scary enough being tied up and helpless. What doesthis kind of scary involve?"
"Don't you trust me, Ming?"
"Yes, I trust you. You should know that by now, dammit! How often have Ihesitated to do what you ask?"
"Because trust is a vital component of love. If you don't trust me, you don'tlove me."
"Jesus, Lyle!" She turned away so he wouldn't see the tears forming. "Whatdo I have to do to prove to you that I love and trust you that I haven't alreadydone?"
She knew it was the wrong question the instant it left her mouth. He couldn'thave asked for a better setup.
"You can prove it by going with me without asking any more questions."
She sighed in defeat. Fear had become a standard ingredient in their relationship.Perhaps the most exciting part. She knew she was just blowing smoke. He knewit, too.
"You know what I think of monogamy," he said, clutching her to him and rollingon to his back, savoring the feel of her breasts pressing down on his chest. "Solet me make this promise: if you have the courage, and if you love me enoughto take this step into the unknown, I will from now on not so much as lookat another woman. I promise. It's that important to me. Please, Ming, tellme you'll do it. That you'll attend the next Millennium Group banquet, no questionsasked."
She doubted his sincerity about giving up other women, but she was intrigued.
How could a banquet be so important?
"Okay," she murmured as he caressed her back. "You know I'll go. You knowI can't resist an offer like that. But please, tell me something aboutthis group. I'm not asking you to reveal any deep, dark secrets; just a littlesomething so I'll have some idea what to wear, how to prepare myself mentally."
"It's a worldwide organization that began in your parents' neck of the woods.Thailand, I think."
"My parents are Chinese."
"Whatever. The point is, they do something that no other group does. It'sextremely erotic and exciting, and therefore illegal. That's all I'm goingto tell you. But I stress again: this means everything to me, Ming. So if youdecide to back out, I'll find someone who will. But you're the one I want.Please! It's what I want for us."
"It's not BDSM?"
"Not at all."
"I won't be whipped or chained up or made to do stuff?"
"Nothing will be done to you that you don't volunteer for. Only one thingwill be required of you: that you eat what's served. And I promise: it willbe delicious."
"What's the scary part?"
"I told you. You'll find out."
And indeed she had!
Lyle had not deceived her. It was not a BDSM group. She was not restrainedor hurt in any way. The people were interesting, the activities were fun andthe sex (lots of sex!) was entirely consensual and mostly in private rooms.The dinners were delicious, just as he promised. She was the only one who threwup (and only at that first banquet), but everyone was very solicitous and assuredher that vomiting was a common reaction for first-timers. She soon got overher squeamishness.
Ming would have walked away from it all the instant she saw the first deadgirl, but it was already too late. Lyle had seen to that.
Liesl
- 24.03.2020
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