SINFUL ENCOUNTERS

Episode 6

VELVET BLINDFOLD IN THE PENTHOUSE ELEVATOR PT 3

The underground bedroom was dark when Julian’s hand slid over Clara’s bare hip, waking her. The clock on the nightstand glowed showing it was 2:17 a.m. She was still sore from the night before, thighs sticky with dried c*m, but his touch made her p***y clench anyway.

“Julian?” Her voice was rough from screaming his name earlier.

“Shh.” He kissed the back of her neck, then rolled out of bed. She heard him open a drawer across the room but she was too tired to figure out what he was doing.

When he came back, he was carrying a black leather bag. “You’re going to take more for me tonight.” He smiled at her

Clara’s heart slammed hard as she sat up, sheets pooling at her waist. Her n*****s tightened in the cool air. “What’s in the bag?”

He set it on the bed and pulled out thick leather cuffs, a length of soft black rope, a small flogger with wide falls, and a thick black vibrator. His c**k was already hard again, jutting out heavy and ready. “Hands behind your back.”

She obeyed before her brain caught up. The cuffs snapped around her wrists with a click. It was leather and she couldn’t remove her hand when she tried.

Julian pushed her forward onto her stomach, then tied her ankles together with the rope, spreading her knees wide so her ass lifted and her soaked p***y was open for him.

“Safe word is red, say it if you need to stop or if it gets too much for you. You’re mine until dawn.” He said, voice low and calm.

He dragged the flogger across her back first, soft leather teasing her skin. Then he brought it down on her ass causing a sharp sting that bloomed into heat. Clara gasped. He did it again, harder, alternating cheeks until her skin burned and her p***y dripped onto the sheets.

“f**k, look at you,” he murmured. “Ass all red for me already.”

He pushed two fingers inside her without warning. She wet, but the stretch made her moan into the pillow. Julian f****d her with his fingers while the flogger kept landing lightly on her thighs, and harder on her ass. Every strike pushed her closer, and her c**t throbbed untouched.

He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the vibrator. Thick, buzzing on high. He shoved it deep and left it there while he gripped her hair and made her turn her head.

“Look at me while you take it.”

She did. His eyes were dark, hungry. He slapped her ass again, right over the burning skin. The vibrator buzzed against her g-spot. Clara’s thighs shook. She came hard, p***y clamping around the toy, a broken cry tearing out of her.

Julian didn’t stop. He kept the vibrator buried and brought the flogger down again, lighter now, teasing the sensitive skin while she rode the aftershocks. Then he pulled the toy out, flipped her onto her back, and straddled her chest. His c**k slapped against her lips.

“Open.”

She took him deep, throat working around him while he f****d her mouth slow and steady. The cuffs kept her arms pinned under her. Drool ran down her chin. He pulled out just before he came, stroking himself until hot ropes of c*m landed across her t**s and stomach.

He wasn’t finished.

He untied her ankles, spread her legs wide, and ate her p***y like he was punishing her for how good she tasted. Using his tongue, teeth, finger inside her, he stretched her while he sucked her c**t.

She came again, soaking his face. Then he flipped her onto all fours and f****d her from behind, c**k slamming deep, hand fisting her hair, the other reaching around to pinch her c**t.

They went like that for hours. He used the rope to tie her wrists to the headboard, f****d her slow and deep while she begged. Used the flogger on her t**s while she rode him. Made her count every strike out loud. By the time the underground lights started to brighten into fake dawn, Clara was shaking, covered in his c*m, her own wetness, and red marks that would bruise beautifully by sunrise.

She had come so many times she lost count. Her voice was gone and her body felt wrecked in the best way.

Julian finally untied her, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her slow and deep.

“Good girl, you took everything I gave you.” He whispered against her mouth.

When the morning light filtered in through the windows, Clara’s legs wouldn’t hold her when she tried to stand. Julian laughed softly, picked her up, and carried her into the massive shower. Hot water hit her sore skin. He pressed her against the tiled wall, lifted one of her legs, and slid inside her again.

She was sore, raw and aching but the stretch felt so good she moaned anyway. He f****d her slow under the spray, water running between their bodies, his mouth on her neck, her nails digging into his shoulders. She came one last time, weak and shuddering, while he spilled inside her.

Afterwards, she really couldn’t walk. Julian dried her, dressed her in one of his soft black t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants, then carried her up to the car.

He drove her home through the quiet city streets, one hand on her thigh the whole time. At her apartment he carried her up the stairs, laid her gently on her bed, and kissed her forehead.

“Sleep,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Then he was gone.

Clara woke hours later, body aching everywhere. She showered again, wincing at the bruises on her ass and the bite marks on her inner thighs. Every movement reminded her of him. The way his c**k stretched her, his hand in her hair, the way he’d made her beg.

She dressed for work in a pencil skirt and blouse that hid most of the marks, but she could still feel him between her legs.

At the office she was useless. She stared at her laptop and saw his face instead of spreadsheets. When she crossed her legs under the desk, her p***y throbbed. She kept remembering the sound of the flogger, the taste of his c*m, the way he’d looked at her while she came. By three o’clock she’d accomplished nothing. Her assistant asked if she was okay. Clara lied and said she was just tired.

At five-thirty her phone buzzed.

It was Julian, he'd texted her ‘I’m outside.’

She grabbed her bag and went down. He was leaning against his black car, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up. He opened the door for her without a word, but his eyes said everything. They drove in silence for twenty minutes until he pulled up to a sleek modern house in a quiet neighborhood.

Inside it was dim and looked expensive. There was a large private room with a deep couch facing a wall of screens. The screens showed live feeds of other rooms, and other people.

A couple in one room was f*****g on a table, the woman bent over while two men took turns. In another, a woman was tied spread-eagle, a man teasing her with a vibrator while she begged.

Clara’s breath caught. Heat flooded between her legs. She was instantly wet.

Julian sat on the couch and pulled her onto his lap, her back to his chest. His hand slid under her skirt, fingers pushing her soaked panties aside.

“Watch them,” he said against her ear.

“See how she’s dripping for it.”

Clara’s eyes stayed glued to the screens. The woman on the main feed was moaning loud enough that the sound came through the speakers. Julian’s fingers circled her c**t, in slow and perfect motion. She rocked against his hand, breath coming fast.

“Julian…” she whispered.

He unzipped his pants. His c**k sprang free, hot and hard against her ass. “Can’t wait anymore.”

Clara lifted up, reached back, and sank down onto him in one smooth motion. He filled her completely. She gasped at the stretch still sore from the night before, but the ache made it hotter. She started riding him, slow at first, eyes never leaving the screens. The couple on the feed came together, loud and messy. Clara’s p***y clenched around Julian’s c**k.

He gripped her hips and thrust up hard. “f**k yourself on me while you watch.”

She did, moving faster.

The wet sounds of her riding him mixed with the moans from the screens and his fingers rubbing her c**t in tight circles. She came hard, biting her lip to stay quiet, p***y pulsing around him. Julian followed right after, groaning low as he filled her with hot spurts.

They didn’t clean up. He kept her on his lap, c**k still inside her, while they watched another scene start. Then he pulled out, zipped up, and drove them straight to her apartment because it was closer.

Inside her place he didn’t even make it to the bedroom. He bent her over the couch, yanked her skirt up, and f****d her hard from behind.

He pulled her hair, slapped her ass right over the bruises he’d left last night, and called her his good little slut. She came twice before he carried her to the bed.

There he wrecked her completely. Missionary so he could watch her face. Then on her side, leg hooked over his hip. Then her on top, his hands pinning her wrists above her head while she rode him until her thighs burned. He made her come again with his mouth on her c**t and his fingers in her ass. By the end she was shaking, voice hoarse, body covered in fresh marks and his c*m leaking out of her.

She lay on her back, chest heaving, every muscle sore and satisfied. Julian pulled her against his chest, one big hand stroking down her spine.

Clara looked up at him, eyes heavy but honest. “I’m wrecked, and I f*****g love it. I want more. I want everything you can give me.” She whispered.

Julian kissed her slow, tasting the desperation on her tongue. His hand slid between her legs again, fingers pushing his c*m back inside her swollen p***y.

“Then you’re going to get it,” he said against her mouth.

“Every dirty thing you’ve been pretending you don’t want. Starting tomorrow.”

He stayed inside her all night, half-hard, like he couldn’t bear to pull out. Clara fell asleep with his heartbeat under her cheek and the terrifying, perfect knowledge that she was never going back to professional distance again.

She was his now, and she couldn’t wait to see what he broke her with next.