Spit-Roasted on the Beach – The Quantum Slut, Chapter 27

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Onstage, The Amazin’ Sex BDSM Club, New YorkHe clipped a silver chain leash to her collar, then said, “Heel!”She dropped to her hands and knees, and shuffled after him as he walked slowly onstage. She was naked except for her collar and the leather restraints on her ankles and wrists.As she shuffled past the curtains stage-left, she saw, or rather, felt, the hundreds of people in the audience. The spotlights hit them, and the audience roared its approval. Marta’s heart was pounding in her chest, and she was having great difficulty breathing. Her tits wobbled in the spotlight as she shuffled onstage on her hands and knees, head down, blushing furiously. She had never been so humiliated…or so wet…without even being touched.She was going to suck his cock, onstage, with hundreds of people watching.~~~~~James, Two Weeks EarlierOnce again, I woke to sunlight streaming through my windows, but this time I was alone in bed. I got up, used the bathroom, grabbed a robe from the back of the door, and went to find my two strays.I found them in the living room, cuddling. Marta was holding Sammi’s head against her upper chest, and was smoothing her hair, murmuring soothing words to her. Sammi was quietly sobbing.I quirked an eyebrow at Marta, and she nodded to Sammi’s other side, so I sat down, and placed my hand on Sammi’s shoulder.“What’s up, Little Girl? Are you okay?”Sammi, stopped sobbing, lifted her head, tears fogging her eyes, and tried to smile at me. “I’m so sorry, Sir! I didn’t mean to…”“Hush now, woman. Whatever you need, and whatever we can do to help, we’ll do. But first we need to know what the problem is. It’s your parents, isn’t it, Sammi?”Tears started streaming down her face again, and her faux smile collapsed into crying again, “It’s…it’s my Mom! I’m mad as hell at her, but I miss her, too! She’s always been on my side before.” And she buried her head in Marta’s chest again.I looked quizzically at Marta. She shrugged, then said, “It’s okay, dear. Cry. It helps…I know.” And she continued to smooth Sammi’s hair.I moved over so that my body was pressed against hers, then started to synchronize my breathing with hers, gradually feeling her sobbing slow as I slowed my breathing. I was using a simple technique from Neuro-Linguistic Programming to help her calm down by synching her body’s behavior with mine.Once she was calmer, I sat up again, and said, “Tell you what, kiddo…let’s get some food in you, get your blood sugar up, and then we’ll talk about what we can do. We’ll figure something, I promise.”She wiped her eyes on the back of her hands, smiled at me again, a better smile this time, and nodded.~~~~~We sat with the residue of breakfast around us – I’d made simple cheese omelettes with green onions, plus English muffins with preserves, slices of cold ham, broiled tomato halves, coffee for Marta and me, and herbal tea for Sammi.“Sammi, would you like us to talk to your mother?” I began.She looked uncertain, started to nod, then stopped. “I…I don’t know. I’ve never had a problem with Mom before. I…I don’t know what to do!”“Well…” I started, then heard a strange noise.Sammi jumped up. “Oh! My phone!” and dashed out of the room.We heard her answer, and she eventually walked slowly back into the kitchen. Most of what she said was “Uh-huh,” “OK” and similar remarks, then ended with “Only if Marta and James come with me!” She listened further, then finally ended with “Okay.”When she ended the call, she looked at us, and said, “That was Dad. He asked if I would come upstairs to talk with him and Mom. You heard me say that I’d only go if you two could come with me. He said that might be better.”Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! I didn’t think…would you please come with me, Marta and…and almanbahis şikayet Sir?”I smiled, “If that’s what you want, then of course we will. But it might be better if you called me ‘James’ for now, okay?”And that’s how, about half an hour later, we wound up in the Fleming’s apartment, seated around their kitchen table, all five of us.Sandy Fleming, Sammi’s father, gave us coffee while Sammi got herself a can of soda from the fridge, and sat down next to Marta.Janet, Sammi’s mother, was seated next to her husband, and across from Sammi and Marta. I had, somehow, found myself at the head of the table…not the position I would have chosen. I had to fight the impulse to bring the meeting to order.Sandy cleared his throat, “Uh…I think your mother has something to say, Sammi.”Janet looked down at the table, then up at Marta, avoiding my eye. “I…I’m sorry to you both. I was worried about what you might be doing to Sammi. I can see by the way she’s behaving towards you both that I was mistaken. I…apologize.”Marta reached across the table, and took the older woman’s hand. “We understand. You were concerned…and rightly so!…about what two strangers might be doing with your child.”I decided I had to speak up. “Except she’s not a child, Janet. She may be somewhat inexperienced – after all, she’s only seventeen – yet, she does not comport herself like a child, but rather as a self-confident woman.”Janet looked at me, and I could see she still had mixed feelings about me.“Janet, you have no reason to trust me, but let me offer you logic instead of trust. What would impel us to be here if we had nefarious designs on your daughter? If it comes to that, why would either of us bother? If I’m the louche rake you think I am, why would I bother with a seventeen-year-old girl instead of the bevy of beauties who would willingly throw themselves at me…or rather, my money.“In fact, the only reason we are involved with your daughter at all is that she approached us. She is a charming, delightful, and remarkably worldly young woman whose company we have come to truly enjoy.“But for my final argument: do you trust your daughter’s judgement?”Janet continued to avoid my eyes, but nodded. “Yes, she’s a very level-headed girl – I mean woman – even if she does seem to have a voracious appetite for sex.”Sandy drew back to look at his wife, and remarked, “Now, I wonder where she gets that from?”Sammi looked at her father, then broke into giggles, which she tried – unsuccessfully – to smother with her hand. He soon joined her.Janet looked crossly at both of them, then finally she broke down and started giggling, too.Marta and I smiled at each other, then shrugged.Janet finally looked at me, and asked, “Are you really that rich? You don’t look like it.”I shrugged, “Well, if you mean I’m not flashing status symbols, it’s partially because I’ve been there and done that, and finally found it intensely trivial.”I glanced at Marta, who smiled back at me, “I also found that the real riches in life lie in the ability to get things done, to love people…and especially, to learn things. That’s the reason I moved here…I wanted to study with the world’s leading authority on quantum mechanics: my financée, Dr. Marta Rabinovich. This was the only way I could figure to get close enough to her to ask. I just didn’t expect to fall in love with her.”She leaned over and kissed me, then rubbed her nose against mine.Sammi was looking much happier now, so piped up, “So, when are you getting married?”Janet looked embarrassed, “Sammi! Stop it!”I smiled, “No, Sammi’s right…I need to tie her down before she smartens up.”Marta leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You can tie me up any time you want…my Lord!” And giggled.“Stop it!” almanbahis canlı casino I whispered back.“Or what?” she replied, looking at me through her lashes, with a cat-gets-the-cream look.I ignored her and turned back to the others, “Which is why I’m going to suggest to my fiancée that we fly down to Costa Rica a week from Friday and get married on the beach. Would you all like to come with us? My treat. I can afford it, as Janet has so kindly pointed out.”That nicely changed the subject, and the conversation turned to whether they could, or should, or would come with us, with Sammi arguing vociferously that they just had to, Janet saying they couldn’t possibly, and Sandy, after being quiet for a bit, coming out in support of Sammi’s position.Meanwhile, Marta turned to me and whispered, “That’s a lovely idea, but you might have asked me! How am I going to find time to get a dress?”I looked at her, “But that’s all part of my cunning plan! You can get married in a bikini – and the bonus is that there won’t be as much for me to take off!”She sat back, a smoldering look in her eyes, and said, “And where’s the fun in that!” Her smile broadened.“I know that look,” I said. “You’re plotting something, aren’t you?”She smirked at me, and kept quiet for a time, then said gave me a slow smile and said, “Maybe…”~~~~~We didn’t manage to get to Costa Rica for almost a month after that for a variety of reasons, not least people re-organizing their schedules. By then, the worst of Winter was past us, and everyone was looking forward to a warm weather breather, so the wedding seemed like a happy excuse to have an early Spring break.Except to Marta and me, of course, for whom the trip was primarily about getting married. Yet, Marta was actually part of the reason we had to delay. She insisted she had to fulfill her promise before she would marry me.I had edged Marta in the movie theatre until she begged to be allowed to cum, and promised to do anything that I wanted if I would let her. I had responded with a long-time fantasy of mine: “I’ve always wanted a beautiful, brilliant woman to kneel, stark naked, hands bound behind her, with my cock deep down her throat, gagging her, on stage while hundreds of people watch her being humiliated.”She had agreed. I hadn’t really been serious, partly because I didn’t ever expect it to happen. But when I proposed marriage, she accepted on two conditions, first that she would become my wife only if she could also be my slave, permanently, and second that she be allowed to fulfill that promise – and any other fantasies I might have.So, now I had to find a way to make that fantasy happen.Fortunately, from my earlier, more adventurous days, I knew someone in New York City who was a name in the BDSM scene. After some back-and-forth, the arrangements were set.~~~~~~MartaI was so scared I could barely breathe, and yet my pussy lips are so slick that I was dripping on the stage. I was standing in the wings of a stage at The Amazin’ Sex Club in New York City, waiting to be led onstage by my Lord, then humiliated in front of the hundreds of people in the audience – as I had promised.I was wearing quite a bit of make-up to disguise me, plus a beautiful, long-haired, red wig, and had shaved and waxed my mound so that people couldn’t compare my drapes with the carpet. Other than that, I was naked except for my leather collar, wrist, and ankle cuffs.I was standing next to Sir, listening to, but not really hearing, us being introduced by the MC at the Club’s Saturday night Munch show. I heard the audience break into applause, and knew it was time.Sir turned to me, clipped a silver, chain leash to my collar, then said, “Heel.” I drop to my hands and knees, looked almanbahis casino down, and shuffled onstage behind him as he walked out to take the microphone from the MC.As I shuffled past the curtain at stage-left, the spotlight hit me like a blow, and I heard a roar, but didn’t look up. I felt my tits both wobble and tighten as Sir pulled on my leash, urging me to the center of the stage, and I shuffled faster. When I got to center stage, he commanded me to “Sit!”I sat up on my knees, hands on my thighs, looking up at him expectantly.“There’s a tag on your collar. Tell these people what it says.” He holds the mike down to my mouth.I glanced up at his eyes, but they are cold and distant. We hadn’t talked about this, yet I had no choice. I tried to speak, but found my mouth too dry. I swallowed hard, and whispered, “It says ‘I’m a slut, a…a cunt, and a…cocksucker,’ Sir.”“And are you?”I nod, “Yes, Sir.” My words trail off, and I’m sure my face is beet red. I’m so embarrassed. I had not expected to have to say anything! This is agony, especially as I hate speaking in front of crowds, even at scientific conferences!“And are you going to prove that to the people here, watching you?”I nod again, but am unable to speak, and look down to hide my face behind the red hair of my wig.“Alright, then prove to us that you really are a cocksucker, slut.” He puts the mike into the mike stand next to him, then turns back to me, and unzips his fly.His voice was cruel, yet my cunt is, if anything, even wetter than it was. I feel sure the audience can see my need as I can feel my juices dripping onto the stage between my legs, and wonder why being humiliated like this excites me so, especially as I hate being in the spotlight.I reach up and fish his cock out of his pants. He wore boxers with a big slit today specifically to make this easy, and as he is already almost fully erect, his cock almost springs out of his pants towards me.I find myself entranced once again. I don’t know why, but I have come to adore his cock, to hunger after it. That first night, when he first forced his cock down my throat, I felt only disdain, dismissing it as a typical male fuck-fantasy.But as I have come to love and worship him as my Lord, so, too, have I come to adore sucking his cock, and feeling it forced down my throat. I have even dreamed about it when alone, and woken up wet and yearning.I cradle it in my hands, and nuzzle it against my face, getting pre-cum around my cheeks and lips. Then I hold it up, lick my lips, and slowly, gently run my tongue from bottom to top of the tip, then kiss it.The audience has vanished as far as I’m concerned now. It’s just me and my Lord, and another opportunity to worship him, to take him into my mouth. I have told him, truthfully, that I consider my mouth to be the proper home for his cock, where it belongs.I open my lips, and breathe hot breath on him, and am rewarded by seeing him shiver. I slowly start to take him into my mouth, feeling the rumpled surface of the frenulum with my tongue, while my upper lips trace their way along the helmet of his cut form. I stop when I have all of his cockhead between my lips, and take time to run my tongue all around it.My feelings are all muddled up. I have come to love the taste of his pre-cum and cum, and the feel of him on my tongue and lips. Yet, there is also a part of me that exults, as if feeling powerful and in control of him, to have him vulnerable between my teeth, to be able to bite his cock right off if I really wanted to, but not ever to wish it.But more than anything else, it is the power of being able to control his bliss that makes this such a thrill to me, to be able to pleasure the man I have come to love. The ability to give him what is clearly an incredible thrill for him. It has turned what was originally a chore into an ecstatic joy for me. It has become almost a religious experience for me, and I sometimes find myself close to climaxing when he cums in my mouth.

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