Four Corners 2: Steve/Stephanie

Part 2: Steve/Stephanie

Steve glanced around as he cautiously slid into a corner booth. Before, when the four friends went out on the town, they'd always separated at the door, each going his own way to try his own luck. Usually, the separation from his friends had always empowered Steve, made him feel like the solitary hunter. Tonight, stuck in this new and barely clothed body, he felt more like the prey.

When the waitress arrived, Steve surprised himself by asking for a glass of white wine instead of his usual beer. Keep it light, he told himself as if in explanation. No way do I want to get drunk tonight. When his drink arrived, he sipped it cautiously, wondering as he did if he could talk the others into leaving soon.

"Stephanie, hey!" At the sound of the voice, Steve jumped, nearly spilling his wine. Glancing to one side, he watched as a muscular looking man slid into the booth, coming to rest with his leg nearly touching Steve's. "Back for more?"

More? More what, Steve wondered. "Um," he said slowly, "I'm not sure." Looking at the man, Steve was surprised to find he somehow knew the man's name. "How's your evening going, Hank?"

"Better now," Hank replied, dropping one hand to rest on Steve's knee. Steve tensed, suddenly nervous at Hank's closeness, the almost casual way one finger traced a pattern on the soft skin beneath. "Even better if this dress means what I think it does."

Suddenly, Steve felt Hank's hand begin moving up his leg. He wanted to brush the hand away, but his body refused to move, remaining stiffly in place as Hank's hand slid under the hem of his dress.

"Good girl," Hank whispered, smiling. At the feel of a touch on the mound between his thighs, Steve was surprised to feel his knees parting slightly. Even more surprising was the feel of his nipples hardening as a strangely pleasant sensation swept through him.

"How many drinks have you had?" As he asked, Hank's finger began stroking softly, causing Steve's breath to catch in his throat.

"This is the first one," he answered, licking lips that had suddenly gone dry. Why, he asked himself, was he just sitting here, letting this man touch him? Why wasn't he pushing him away? Why wasn't he getting up and running for the door. Instead, he simply sat, one hand clutching the edge of the table as if for support as Hank's finger slowly increased the pressure of its strokes, finally dipping slightly between Steve's lips.

Steve felt his hips buck slightly at this slightest hint of penetration. Part of him prayed for this to end, part of him prayed for more, and his body remained still, allowing it to happen.

"Hank, please," he whispered, glancing around.

Hank grinned. "Afraid someone will see? No worries there, darlin'. You picked a nice dark booth to sit in. But just to be fair, what say we make things more even?"

Taking Steve's hand, Hank pulled it under the table. Feeling soft skin under his fingers, Steve glanced down to see that Hank had undone his pants, leaving himself completely exposed. Even as he stared, Steve's fingers wrapped themselves around Hank, gripping him gently.

"There, isn't that better?" Unable to reply, Steve could only stare at his hand as it began to stroke Hank, matching the rhythm of Hank's finger between his thighs. "Careful, though," Hank admonished with a smile. "Wouldn't want to waste anything we might need later, right?"

Again, Steve could find no words to reply. He couldn't believe he was sitting there stroking a man's cock while that same man stroked him in return. Why was he doing this? A wash of a strange pleasure was his only answer.

How long they sat like that, Steve had no idea. When Hank finally removed his hand, Steve honestly didn't know whether he was relieved or disappointed. Carefully, Hank unwrapped Steve's hand from his erection, fastening his pants closed. Still holding Steve's hand, Hank slid from the booth, drawing Steve to his feet beside him.

"That's enough of this," Hank said. "Let's go someplace more private."

Steve glanced around wildly. "But....but I...." he protested weakly. "What about my friends?"

"I'm sure they can take care of themselves," Hank replied, pulling Steve behind him as he moved toward the door. Before Steve could muster a reply, he found himself in the parking lot, being settled onto the front seat of a rather large car.

I need to get out, he thought as Hank closed the door. I need to get back into the bar and find the others. He stared at the door handle, but his hand refused to reach for it. Instead, he sat quietly as Hank slid behind the wheel. Even when Hank reached over, pulling up the hem of his dress, Steve made no move to resist.

"Seat belt," Hank said, fastening his own. Without thinking, Steve buckled his own belt across his hips. It was only after the buckle snapped home that he glanced down to see the hem of his dress trapped beneath the belt, leaving him fully exposed. Again, his body refused to do anything about the situation, his arms crossing on his stomach.

Hank glanced down with a grin. "Nice trim job there, darlin'." At this, Steve was surprised to feel himself blushing. Without another word, Hank set the car into motion, his hand dropping almost casually from the shift lever to land directly on Steve's crotch.

Why am I doing this, Steve asked himself. I'm in a strange car with a strange man, going who knows where, and he's playing with my.....with my pussy. At Hank's first touch, Steve's knees had once again parted slightly, as if to allow easier access to what lay between. His mind whirling, his body responding only to Hank's touch instead of his own frantic thoughts, Steve could only hope this ended well.

As the drive continued, and as Hank's fingers continued their work between his thighs, Steve could feel undeniable pleasure welling up within him. His breath quickened, his nipples hardened, and he could feel the warmth and moisture Hank's fingers were calling up from within him.

Is this what a woman feels when she's being fingered? If so, he could understand why they enjoyed it so much. Still, it wasn't quite enough. His body wanted more, and Steve suddenly found himself terrified at the thought of what that "more" might be.

Finally, after a seemingly endless drive, during which Steve's breathing began to be interlaced with soft moans, Hank pulled the car into a long driveway, halting before a large, darkened house. As Hank exited and then circled the car, Steve automatically removed his belt. Opening the door, Hank drew Steve to his feet, leading him toward the house.

By now, Steve had no idea what to think. He did not want to go into that house. He most definitely did not. Did he? The sensations coursing through his body made it difficult to think clearly. In the end, he meekly followed as Hank led him inside.

As the door closed, Stave glanced furtively around the living room he found himself in. His eyes skipped nervously over the stairs at the far end, where he feared Hank meant to lead him for what, increasingly, his body seemed to desire. To his relief, Hank instead led him toward the rear of the house, into the kitchen. Opening a door, he led Steve down a set of stairs into the basement.

Halting at the bottom of the stairs, Steve stared into the basement, wondering as he did if maybe upstairs might not have been a better option. The large, single room was dotted with pieces of furniture Steve wasn't sure he wanted identified. Only the bed at the far end looked familiar, and even it had things attached to it. His thoughts were interrupted as Hank stepped in front of him.

"Ok," he said, smiling, "now the real fun can begin. Off with it."

"What?" Steve at first couldn't figure out what Hank meant, but then his eyes widened as the implications sank in.

Hank frowned. "Your dress," he said, his voice clipped. "Off, now."

Almost automatically, Steve's hands rose to his shoulders, slipping off the straps and letting the dress fall to pool around his feet. As he stepped out of the circle of cloth, he stared at it sadly. It hadn't been much, but it had covered him, at least partly. Now, wearing only a pair of sandals, he felt completely exposed. Without thinking about it, he kicked the sandals off.

Again, his thoughts were interrupted, this time by a sudden sting to his ass. Eyes wide, he reached back with both hands, only to freeze at the sight of Hank's scowl.

"From now on," Hank said, "when I tell you something, you will give a proper response. Do you understand?" Stunned, Steve nodded. "I can't hear your head move," Hank said. "Try again. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

For a moment, Steve wasn't sure what it was Hank wanted, but then the words seemed to come out on their own.

"Yes, Master."

"Better. Now let's get you comfortable."

This, Steve soon realized, was a relative term, as he found himself bent over what looked like a padded sawhorse. His feet were spread wide, leather cuffs around his ankles attached to the sawhorse legs by short lengths of chain. A collar around his neck was chained to the floor, holding him bent across the horse, while more chain attached to the ends of the horse led to cuffs on his wrists, holding his arms stretched slightly away from his sides. A rubber coated ring inserted behind his teeth and held in place by straps around his head, garbled his speech but left his mouth open and feeling strangely vulnerable.

"Now, let's see," he heard from behind him. "You didn't return my attentions at the bar. I had to repeat a command when we got down here, and you failed to respond properly twice. So...." Steve heard a swishing sound, followed by a crack as pain flared across his ass. He screamed in pain, struggling to get away, only to feel a second strike, followed by a third, and then a fourth. By the fifth, tears were streaming from his eyes as he sobbed uncontrollably.

"You know I don't like taking the belt to you," he heard vaguely, "but when you refuse to behave properly, you know I have no choice. You did take it rather well, though, so I think we can consider your punishment over. Which means time for something much nicer."

Next, Steve felt a hand softly stroking his ass. At first, even this light touch hurt, but the pain slowly faded to a dull throbbing. By then, the hand had moved from his ass to between his thighs. The gentle stroking here once more sent pleasure coursing through him, drowning out the last of the pain from his ass. Soon his hips began to move in response to the stroking, pushing back into the sensation as if seeking more.

"I knew you'd like that," he heard Hank say, "and it feels like you're more than ready. So I guess you need to make sure I'm ready." With this, he moved to stand in front of Steve. He was naked, though Steve had no idea when he'd removed his clothing. Now, raising Steve's head, he aimed himself toward the very center of the ring.

To Steve's horrified gaze, the thing approaching him appeared huge, but it slipped easily through the ring holding his mouth open. As it filled his mouth, Steve froze, unsure what to do next.

"Now, now," he heard. "Do I have to punish you again?" These words, and the memory of the pain his first punishment had brought, was enough to send Steve's tongue swirling across the soft warmth. With a desperation that could almost pass as eagerness, he tongued Hank's cock for what felt like hours, but could only be minutes. When Hank finally withdrew, Steve could only hang his head and wait for whatever came next.

"Not bad, but you need practice," he heard as Hank circled to stand behind him. "Still, it was enough to get me in the mood, and I know you already are, so why wait?" With this, Steve felt something pushing into him.

Desperately, Steve pushed forward, struggling to avoid what he knew was already happening. Slowly, deliberately, Hank thrust into him, filling him completely. For a moment, he paused, as if allowing Steve's muscles to accustom themselves to the intruder, and then he began thrusting with a slow, steady rhythm.

To Steve's surprise, his own body began thrusting back as much as his bonds would allow. The pleasure, which had been growing all evening, suddenly swept through him, leaving no thought but the desire for more. As Hank's thrusts quickened, Steve felt something growing within him, something he knew without a doubt was a female orgasm. By now, though, the type of orgasm no longer mattered, as long as it was an orgasm. Already, he could feel his muscles tightening with its approach.

"If you get off before I do," he heard, "I'll whip that ass raw." Hearing this, Steve clenched his teeth, now fighting to stop the very thing his whole body cried out for. Desperately, he struggled to hold off the approaching orgasm, feeling it slip ever closer in spite of his frantic efforts, until finally.....

"That's it! Cum for me!" With those words, Steve's body exploded. Waves of pleasure crashed through him, causing his muscles to clench tightly around Hank's cock, at the same time sending cries of pure passion streaming past the ring gag. His muscles, locked in a rigor of passion, only slowly relaxed as the final wave of pleasure passed, leaving him limp in his bonds.

"Damn, that was good." For his part, Steve could only sag into his bonds, totally spent. When Hank thrust himself once more through the ring, Steve didn't hesitate, licking him clean with long, slow lashes of his tongue. When he'd finished, Hank stepped back and removed the gag.

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Yes, Master." To his own surprise, Steve found he meant it. He had enjoyed it, and the earlier pain now had very little meaning. "Thank you Master."

"You, " he heard, "are welcome. Now, let's get you out of there and into bed. We've still got a lot of the night ahead of us."

As Hank unfastened his bonds, Steve glanced toward the bed. But now, instead of fear, he found himself feeling a strange anticipation for what his Master had in store for him next.

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18.09.14

story continues in Four Corners 3: Neil/Nell

o0o