Taylor Holloway
Excerpt
A Taylor Made Student
“I’m not going to blindfold you this time. I want to see those beautiful green eyes of yours.” His eyes locked onto mine. “You have the most beautiful eyes, Kiera. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such bright green eyes before in my life.” I felt my clitoris swell. How can someone have me on the edge of a climax by only his words alone? My breath was shallow, and my heart pounded at my ribcage. I was ready, floating like a cloud, sensing the static electricity brewing from the storm on its way.
In my drug-like state, I hadn’t noticed Taylor pick up the Cat o’ nine and move behind me, until I heard a rush of air from behind, and then a stinging sensation across my shoulders from the cat o’ nine coming down hard on my flesh. I flinched, and groaned loudly, my breasts swelled, and my nipples grew hard, and this was only the beginning. Three more slaps came down hard on my flesh, one across my lower back, one on my buttocks, and one across the back of my thighs, each hit harder and faster than the one before.
My insides were singing with delight, but on the outside my flesh was on fire. Taylor’s hands caressed over the areas affected from his brutal punishment on my body. This was repeated several more times. Three hits, each impact harder than before, across my back, my breasts, my buttocks, and several times against my pussy. Then the tender caress of Taylor’s hand over the inflamed areas, causing my sex to clench tight until my inner storm brewed to a point beyond any control, convulsing my body into the sweet surrender of my exploding orgasm, which rolled slowly down the inside of my thigh. My breath burned my throat and my flesh tingled, highly responsive to Taylor’s wicked torture on my mind, body and soul.
I started to laugh so wickedly with pure delight and exhaustion. He brought the leather braids down once more on my sensitive skin, stopping me from laughing, replacing it with a scream of pain. Showing me he was in control. He hands caressed over my buttocks until his fingers skated over the folds of my hypersensitive pussy, smearing my juices. “Hmm, so wet. So you like the Cat-o-nine, then?” he hummed, and slid one finger inside me, and I gasped at the delicious feeling. But only for a few short seconds did I get to enjoy that feeling, before he quickly withdrew his fingers. Tease.
“Fuck, Kiera. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my whole life,” Taylor hissed.
My body sagged into the restraints on my cuffed wrists, hanging from the chains above me as my legs could no longer hold the weight of my own body. Slowly returning back to Earth out of subspace. Taylor’s hands snaked around my waist, clutched my body close to his, and unhooked the chain from the cuffs. He then removed the spreader bar from my ankles, unbuckled the leather cuffs from my wrists, and carried me over to the end of the bed, placing me gently onto my stomach. My tummy pressed gently down on the cool, soft, black sheets, whilst my legs were kneeling on the carpeted floor.
Taylor placed himself, kneeling, between my legs, pushing my legs wider for him. He rested one strong hand on my inner thigh, and slowly glided it up to my tingling sex, teasing his fingers over my clitoris, then gliding them down across my wet folds once more. “Hmm, you have the sweetest little pussy, Miss Fox.” He murmured at my ear with that breathy, throaty, deep voice of his. I loved the sound of his voice when he was aroused. So masculine and domineering. He could ask me to rob at bank in that voice, and I wouldn’t think twice about obeying his request. He slid two fingers repeatedly in and out of my sex, whilst his thumb pressed down hard on my clit. The feeling of another orgasm concocting in my loins. “Do you like that, Kiera?”
“Yes, sir,” I said in barely a whisper.
“Do you want me to make you come?”
“Yes.”
“What was that?” he said dryly.
“Yes, Yes please! I want to come so badly! Please, sir!” I begged.
“Good girl.” His fingers were torturing me, and my body begged for release. My fingers curled at the sheets beneath me into tight fists. I bit down so hard on my lip that I caught the taste of blood on my tongue. Thrusting his fingers deeper into me, and pushing down hard on my clit when my body shuddered violently, surrendering to his magnificent fingers. “Taylor!” I screamed, and I came all over his hand.
“Oh God, I have to fuck you. Hard. Now.” He groaned, and before I’d had time to catch my breath after my orgasm, he’d unzipped his jeans, kicked them off his legs, and pushed his hard, rigid cock into my wet and still trembling pussy. He wrapped my ponytail around his wrist, and yanked my head back hard, arching my spine and restricting my airway somewhat, so that I could barely breath, and the thought started to scare me, but not to the point of panic.
I hissed through gritted teeth, trying to breathe, as Taylor continued to pound hard into me and pull back further on my hair. Growing harder and bigger every time, pushing every single inch of himself inside me. “Fuck, yes. Come for me, Kiera,” he demanded, plunging further and quickening the pace. My body shuddered once more, and I let out a loud, hissing sigh and, just as my body came down from its higher state of consciousness, I heard Taylor groan, “God, you feel so good.” He drove one last pain-splitting time into my pussy, hissing my name, when his body began to shake as he reached his own climax, spilling his warm, creamy goodness inside me.
Slick with sweat, and completely exhausted, Taylor collapsed on top of me, and we stayed in that position for a good few minutes until the convulsions of our bodies had finally subsided. Then Taylor pulled my limp body up onto the bed with him, spooning me from behind, and snaked one arm around my waist to pull me in close against his hot sticky body.
“I have never seen someone so responsive and receptive to that sort of torture before,” he said, still trying to catch his breath. He kissed my hair. “You looked so beautiful restrained in those chains, hanging from my ceiling.” I was so exhausted; I couldn’t manage to form any energy to speak. “Get some rest, little one, and when you wake up, I’ll address your wounds, and then I’ll cook us something to eat.” That was the last thing I heard from Taylor as my body gave way to exhaustion, and the room turned black.
A Taylor Made Student
Carrie Anne Ward
Synopsis
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