This is a sexual copyrighted by me, Shon Richards, so
please don't make any money from it. I welcome, read and respond to
all e-mail at shonrichardshsd@earthlink.net Really. It makes my day
like you wouldn't believe. How come you haven't written already?
For more of my you can check out
http://www.asstr.org/~ShonRichards/
Note, this was originally posted in Ruthie's Club during
the week of December 31st, 2001. And you say I haven't written
anything lately.
"Tag"
By Shon Richards
"Tag," a voice said behind me.
I set the book back where I had found it and turned around to look at
the woman. She was a short woman with dark skin and a heart shaped
face. Her hair was almost a crew cut, short, curly and as black as
night. She was wearing a casual white blouse and blue jeans but her
demeanor was strictly formal.
The woman looked around, trying to come to a decision. I noticed her
neck had a few rope burns that were almost healed. I wondered how this
black woman would look bound and nude.
"The women's bathroom," she said and my stomach sank. "Go now, find a
stall, and I'll join you in five minutes.
I raised my hand to show the ring. "You've spotted my ring, but I don't
see yours.
Her delicate eyebrows frowned at me, but then she smiled. She reached
inside her and pulled out the ring. It was hanging on a silver
necklace. I thought it was a great idea – the ring was almost too large
for my hand.
"Satisfied?" she asked coldly. I was. I recognized the ring. It was
green like my ring, but it possessed a ruby while mine was gem less.
The ruby was uniquely cut and glowed next to her dark fingers. I knew
the ruby was sharp for I had cut others and myself with it before in
the past.
"Satisfied," I answered. My pulse was racing. "What did you desire?" I
remembered her command perfectly but I was hoping she had changed her
mind.
"The women's bathroom," she repeated. "Go now, find a stall, and I'll
join you in five minutes. I will not repeat myself again.
"Yes, Ma'am," I said.
It's strange. Normal people have no idea how difficult it is to enter
the bathroom of the opposite gender. Walking through that door with the
skirt silhouette made my palms sweat and my feet trip over themselves.
One stall was occupied and I froze at the door.
Of course, I thought about disobeying. It would be dishonest to say I
didn't. I knew though. I knew she had sent me in first to see if I
would accept her commands. She was watching me, waiting for my
decision. I didn't even see her but I knew if I walked away, she would
demand my ring as a trophy.
Losing my ring, and my place in the Game, was unthinkable.
I in my breath and walked in. Although no other women were
there, I kept my eyes forward. It was as if even seeing the bathroom
was something dirty. I went straight to an empty stall and closed the
door behind me. As I sat down on the seat, I just stared at my
shoes. I speculated on whether they were too masculine, dreading
discovery at any moment.
The five minutes dragged. I didn't have my watch but I suspect she
waited longer than five minutes. Part of me worried that she might not
come at all. She may just keep me pinned here in my humiliation.
According to what rules I have learned, this would be perfectly
acceptable as long as she gave up her ring to me in the end.
She did come. Right to my stall she came, which confirmed that my shoes
were too masculine. I didn't have time to be mortified. The waiting was
just as hard for her as it had been for me. Her eyes were intense and I
knew this would be fast and hard.
I watched as she unzipped her jeans to reveal bright and
thighs the color of chocolate. She pulled her jeans off in the tight
space and I was intensely close to her wriggling body. Her came
off and I sighed at the sight of her hairless sex. Smooth and dark, it
had a tiny bit of white moisture between her lips. I could easily
imagine that moisture forming when she saw my ring and I felt a bit of
pride.
My captor threw her jeans and onto my lap and I almost moaned
my frustration. She climbed onto my thighs with her shoes and then
pushed me back against the back of the toilet. First one leg swung over
my shoulders and then the other and my hands grabbed her buttocks to
keep her balance. Her fingers gripped my hair while one arm reached for
the wall. In this manner, she mounted my face.
I didn't need to be commanded. With this lithe woman on my shoulder and
her ass in my hands, I went to work. My mouth opened the dark
pressed against it and my tongue sought her secrets. My shoulders ached
from the weight she was pushing on me, but I was strong enough. Perhaps
my strength was why I was chosen to play the Game.
I found out something about the of a black woman. It wasn't much
different from any other but I was greatly aroused anyway. Her
sex was sweaty from the jeans, tangy from the arousal, and completely
delicious. My fingers sank into her buttocks as my own desire ached.
She rode my face towards the end. It was rough and it bruised my lips
but my tongue never relented. Flicking and whipping inside her sex, my
tongue tried to please her on the off chance that she may deign to
allow me pleasure. I will never forget the sight of her dark skin so
close to my eyes and the way her waist moved as she fucked my face.
A flushed and my mouth froze. The threat of discovery terrified
me but it didn't stop my captor. She continued to ride me, grinding her
clit against my lips until her orgasm finally came in tiny whimpers. My
ears were crushed against me as her thighs clenched and my tongue could
feel her quiver from the inside.
"Very good," she said as she dismounted. I sat there obediently,
silently praying for her to release me. My face tingled from the body
sweat that had collected on my lips and cheeks.
She reached around her neck and unclasped her necklace. It appeared I
wouldn't even get a glance at her breasts. It was times like these that
I regretted there were no tag-backs.
"Here you go," she said as she handed me the ring. I removed the one I
was wearing and gave it to her. We put our rings on together, each of
us aware of our new positions.
I have to say, the one Master ring felt good to wear again.
"Good-bye," I said, dismissing her. I wished I knew her name, but names
are a dangerous thing and I couldn't command her because of the rule on
tag-backs. Besides, it's also considered bad form. Knowing the name of
a player is power, and that kind of power could be abused.
I left the bathroom and came face to face with a woman coming in. My
smile was the only answer I gave her. It's impossible to describe the
new confidence I had. Moments before, I feared discovery. In possession
of the Master ring, I feared nothing. The woman must have sensed my
courage for she offered no protest or complaint as I continued to shop.
The black woman had left me aroused and hungry. I thought of Terri
Brighton. Terri was a player who commanded me to fuck her at a motel
late one night. She made the mistake of abusing me greatly that night
for her desires were quite demanding. My ass had been violated, and
some of her degradations were terrible in their ingenuity. I was so
angered, and so new to the Game, I snuck her wallet from her purse when
she cleaned herself in the bathroom. I found her name and address and
from that day forth, the power was mine.
Terri was who I came to when I was in possession of the Master ring and
impatient. Quite a few times I'd gone to her house and demanded sex.
Once I received a in my car while parked in her driveway. It
was late in the afternoon and I remembered the speed and fear of her
sucking. She was worried about her husband coming home and feared a
divorce, but oddly enough, she wouldn't risk disqualifying herself from
the Game.
No one does.
I thought of Terri but I put that desire on hold. There was no telling
when I might get the Master ring again. The last time had been a month
and the wait had been unbearable. Every time I went out of my house, I
debated wearing the submission ring. Some times, I didn't wear it out
of fear of being used, and some days I would wear it for fear of seeing
the Master ring and not being available to be used. The burden of
wearing the Master ring was exactly the opposite. It was an itch, a
heady feeling of power over the sexual possession of one person. I had
a desperate need to use my power, but I also wanted to savor it.
Going home was the only sensible thing I could do. If I didn't, then I
might be tempted to use the ring if I saw someone. I drove straight
home, not even daring to stop for fast food. There is no rule that says
I have to take someone if I see him or her. For example, I have seen
many when I wore the Master ring, but my tastes have never leaned
that way. It's just I knew I wouldn't be able to restrain myself if I
saw a new woman.
If Fate brings you a victim, how can you not use them?
edited by Ruthie
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