WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design: Selena Kitt

Sex Tool © February 2010 Elise Hepner

eXcessica publishing

All rights reserved

Sex Tool

By Elise Hepner

Yesterday he was a priest. Today he was drunk and tied to a wooden cross. The leather musk advanced over his cologne, something sweet like candy. The sweat on his constricted brow gave way to an aching moan of pleasure as I dangled a candle over his exposed flesh. It started at a simple Halloween party. He was being a jackass and oozing charm to whomever happened to want a glass of punch. It made me slow to approach the table. It also made me want to vault through the crowd until the pink sides of his face were shattered under my knees. He was cute. Too cute for the cocky. I waited longer than I should have mostly because of my outfit. I didn't believe in slutty Halloween, so green face paint had started dripping from the wart on my nose. It tasted like lead on my lips when I took a bite of the tiny cheese piece in my hand. With my experimental costume I'd stayed out of sight. A friend of a friend. Now the lacing on my latex witch corset grew sticky with my suppressed interest.

My scalp had already started tingling from the tinsel wig when cocky boy got in over his head. His hands spanned the nice ass of a girl in bunny ears in front of him. Short brown hair curled out, that must have taken time, and a sprite form. She was packing a push-up bra underneath all that wire and mesh holding her in--complete with tail. I giggled at my small inner joke and heads careened towards me from different directions around me. Ignoring them I watched the muscular jaw work over nothing, a nervous gesture I was sure, while his fine hands traveled along her ass. She didn't slap him but her pink lined mouth nearly dropped to the floor like an Elf ready to give Santa a blow job. It would have made me laugh but right now it made my breathing tight. The girl looked like she would cry, as if these kind of advances along her ass were new. I could see her green eyes well up from here.

I couldn't do it. My hand gripped his wrist and wrenched upwards. His skin slicker than I had imagined, almost feminine in it's softness. The juice from the peppermint glittering behind his teeth met my nose as he scrambled to get me off him.

“Excuse me? What the fuck, lady!”

Not the formal protest I was expecting but it would do with his arm struggling under my tight gaze. I watched the hairless forearm twist before letting him go and shooing the little girl away from the punch table. She bounded away in her bunny suit every bit scared shitless.

“You're a turn-off tonight.” I drawled and leaned against the buffet table. The feeling of cold metal leaking into latex encasing my waist.

“I don't get you! Where do you come off doing that?”

“I'd do it again. She didn't like you.”

“We were getting to know each other better.” He gave me a look that said he bought into the lie. Pathetic.

“You're pathetic.” I was never one to mince my words around strangers

“You're a bitch, fuck you!”

The white neckband of his collar arched out from his beef head neck and I could hear his rasped breathing. I gave him a solid once-over. The tan on his skin had started to fade sharply at the corners making me think fake. Bleached- blonde gel tresses float over his fierce brown brows. It smelled like pineapple as I moved closer, our heads almost level with one another. He was skinny. Nice arms, thickly developed, good for cable rope lining his wrists. The brown eyes narrowed during my assessment. I gave him no time for a retort.

“What's your number?”

Now it was his turn to gape. The hard candy fell out of his mouth and almost hit my forehead to which I quirked an eyebrow before pilfering a sharpie from my purse. The green little marker sat in the fake cauldron I had been toting around all night. I offered an arm now free of turpentine smelling green paint.

“Number.” It wasn't a question. His bluff was called.

He scrawled several babyish squiggles along my arm, shoved the pen in the top of my outfit at my breasts, and shuffled off looking defeated. I watched the way his ass moved in the black priest pants and my pussy clenched at the chiseled submission and secret promise.

* * * *

I called him the night rain was coming through my windows and leaking onto the hardwood floors. I needed a repairman. My cat sashayed over little puddles, fussy meows blocking out the dial tone as I punched in numbers with my nail less fingers. He answered on the first ring, prompt. I liked that, my nipples gave me away against my black turtleneck, aching.

“Hi, girl from the party here. You're coming to my house. Get a pencil, this is the address” I spouted off the numbers and letters from memory listening to the cadence of his breathing patterns shift over the line. He cleared his throat three times. I ran my hands over my top until I met the slit of shirt to pants where exposed flesh lingered. Shivering up my lower back, tingly, as my finger glided over my tight stomach. Years of anger. He huffed a quiet okay. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then he hung up. I wouldn't have expected different.

* * * *

When he met me at the door a lack of umbrella was immediate. He had also walked. The plains of his chest couldn't have gotten that soaked walking from a car I couldn't see parked out front. Fresh, close meat. I invited him inside, the squelching of his Doc Martin's scared my Siamese and she darted into the back bedroom. He squinted into the candle light I had set up earlier and shook off his head like a wet dog.

“Want anything to drink?”

“Um, beer.”

His confidence was gone now and it made me giddy. I walked into the tiny cottage kitchen and I could feel his eyes on my ass: I wore a plaid skirt that matched the ticking on his clinging soaked shirt. He was so tiny. Like a girl in the waist. It made me giggle. Which made me trip over a potted plant at my feet, sprawling me on the lime linoleum. Way to ruin the mood.

He careened towards me sideways because the world was spinning from the bump on my head. His hands planted on my shoulder blades, helping me up. Then fingers working at his t-shirt, prying it off. I thought I was seeing things.

“We need to get you some ice.”

Ah, an explanation. A good one. He bee-lined for my freezer and then shots of stinging cold were binding my horny thoughts in place. A dot of water meandered from his shoulder to stomach and my eyes followed before I tipped him over from his knees to sprawl on top of me. I locked my arms around him and devoured his chapped lips. They tasted like cherry chap-stick. That was it. My undoing. Makeshift ice pack went flying as I dug my fingers into his crunchy hair and scalp, pulling upwards. It ripped a yelp from his mouth, cranberry red from my lipstick. A shiver ran up my back as I careened upward with his head in my hand, bowing his spine. He automatically conformed to the position, assumed it. His head was down and arched from the angle of my nails, his hands wrapped around his slim back, clasped together all dainty. My pussy dripped and I growled at my new find.

“You're not new to this are you, puppy?”

“No, mistress.”

I laughed and pulled him up from the floor, dragging him by the hair towards my special place. The beers forgotten, I had my drought sprawled out to drink within seconds. We would start light. His pants were light, but that and the draft up my skirt made my mouth dry. Wicked thoughts.

“Get up, on your knee's, puppy”

I knew I exuded cold calm as I fondled the cane between my fingertips. Nothing was off but his shirt and we would have to fix that.

“Strip”

He complied with a quickness I admired. No chance to glance at each piece of flesh slowly now. He was exposed. Thighs marred with bruises, ass in the air. His balls drew tight against him, straining as I followed them to the line of his cock. A nice present from one so skinny. And circumcised. A thin dribble of pre-cum already marked my violet sheets. He would pay for that.

My stride grew bold. I whipped the cane over his perky ass. It hit the air with a sting. A red mark formed along his right ass cheek. His shoulders sagged, cock bobbing, but he made no sound as I laid another blow. How admirable. Several more swift marks criss-crossed his dimpled ass. I could almost taste his sweaty musk on my tongue as I laid another blow along his lower back. He seemed to derive more pleasure than pain from my treatment. I had already begun to rub my clit over my silken panties after every line. My damp arousal made the cane slick.

“Get up and follow me on your hands and knees.”

I didn't wait to see if he complied. I left him to crawl through my articles of clothing as they were shed behind me. I could hear his hungry pants, cock brushing the floor as I mounted the solid wooden stairs.

I had it waiting. My newest piece of “equipment” stood in the corner flocked by torn shadows from the purple lights I had installed last year. No dungeon crap. I wanted violet light to rock my world. I watched him descend before bringing out the wooden cross I would strap him too. His face grew pale tinged with purple, like bruising up the cheekbones.

“Come here.” One crooked finger and he was mine.

Naked, my cunt exposed to the cool air from the vent shafts above, my thighs sticky with my own juices. His head positioned at the opening of my cunt, licking along the curves of my cleft.

“Deeper.” My hands on his neck pulling him in further toward my parted legs.

Warmth and pressure dipping into my pussy with the shove of his tongue. My legs shook, liquid pools rooted to the cement. Nibbles at my stinging clit, thirsty thrusts up towards my hole a new, sweet slickness darting in my skin. Pleasure built in the curl of my toes jumping from weak knees and crawling out on fingernails which gripped his neck. My back arched holding on for my sanity as my fuzzy mind wrapped around the orgasm that consumed from my stomach outwards in flashes of light that left my eyes tilting towards the back of my skull.

“Stop, stop.” I lost the edge of command as I regained my balance and composure. Grateful that I had shed my formal skin as my cum soaked his chin and neck. My cunt tingled and I was heady from the first encounter.

My puppy was still in the proper position after his efforts. The masculine curve of his chest heaved, waxed, and luminescent with sweat. He reeked of me. The cock between his slim thighs responded to the brushing of my toes. A hiss of breathe, brown eyes wide to meet my own, searching, chasing, hoping.

“Get up and stand over by the wooden cross.”

“Yes, mistress” low voice reverberated in need.

He did what he was told. I bound him with silver rope gliding through my hands. A whimper at the candle wax dotting his body. Now the sears on him weren't enough. I gripped his cock, several strokes down the engorged silk softness before I plunged my purple lubed strap-on into that pert ass.

The groan echoed across the walls and my head hummed with the sound. My hands buffered into the meat of his shoulders. A gasp, a sigh from his lips at each insistent thrust of my hips going deeper. The give of his succulent sphincter as the vibrator at the base of my fake cock rammed into my cunt making it clench. Bucking in his bindings, pools of sweat and cooling wax at his back, growling with deep pleasure and grunts for more.

My breasts smacked against each other as our smells mingled, sweet and sour, lick-able from the air. I felt and watched as my fake cock glided in and out with the panting from his lips and I dipped to rub the swell of his dick. A quick fondling at the head before rough nails downward on the shaft. I could feel him quake, my thighs taunt, purple plastic buzzing and brushing up against my nether lips making me cum. Vision phasing, heart still pumping with my hips and his insistent moans. Earth shattering give and take of his ass and my phallic falseness, my window of opportunity fully seized.

Warm, thick semen pumped into my hand as he came clawing at the wood and leather with a scream on the tail end of my ejaculation. My senses still buzzed. I slumped against his shaking form nuzzling his back. I eased the jelly cock out of his enlarged anus before undoing the harness and dropping it to the floor. A clatter that didn't make him stir and I had to step over it with Jell-O legs to see the look on his face. The content look of a cat who had gotten the cream washed over him, closed eyes, parted lips. I smiled in satisfaction.

Another asshole tamed.

The End

ABOUT ELISE HEPNER

Elise Hepner has been previously published in The Erotic Woman for “Joy Button” as well as Clean Sheets for “My Little Pony”. She got her erotica wings from writing short pieces for Alison Tyler’s blog contests every Saturday and found her calling. This is her first foray into erotic literature though she has multiple non-fiction publications from travel magazines to medical magazines on her resume. She hopes to make erotica her main focus in the upcoming years. She enjoys getting down and dirty while exploring sexuality in a variety of ways which is why writing smut makes her heart sing. Look for anything new as well as tips and tricks of the erotica trade at http://celise91writer.blogspot.com

If you enjoyed SEX TOOL, you might also enjoy:

COLLEGE TROUBLE

By Elise Hepner

Clair and Marie have been best friends for years. As college roommates their late night study session for biology becomes an exploration of their biology when these drunken slackers need some relaxation. During their test they are faced with the consequences of not passing when their professor gives them a crash course in extra credit.

Warning: This title contains lesbian sex.

Excerpt From COLLEGE TROUBLE:

Underneath her tacky purple skull pj's Marie's ass and hips continued to swivel as she stalked her prey. She felt way too sexy for a dorm room. Imagining herself crawling across a stage at a strip club lit with florescent lights her face morphed from carefree to completely lust laden. Her eyes zigzagged over Clair who had swallowed six beers in a matter of minutes and was now tapping her nails along the wood of their bed to a Britney Spears slow jam.

Without a care in the world the girl placed her cavalier sway right in the way of her drunken friend’s face, slowly wiping a stripe of hair from her cheek.

“You doing okay, hun?”

Clair slurred a little trying to pout before giggling and falling to her back on the floor. This was her chance. The one she'd been meaning to take with all these weekly sleepovers for years.

With ease Marie crawled up Clair's body before sliding her hips in a straddle over her friends. Before Clair could stop her chaotic blinking, her eyes large, chest heaving, Marie laid her lips along her best friend’s collarbone. She was barely breathing, afraid of making her skittish.

Clair smelled of tangerines and clove cigarettes. Her skin was pressed with Urban Decay sparkle powder that twinkled in the low lighting from their room's lamps. Marie’s fingers skimmed over her roommates exposed shoulders taking away chunky sparkles on her fingertips. She knew it was flavored when she popped her fingers into her mouth and tasted Gimlets. Sparkles clung to her tongue like pressed squares of bursting lime.

Before she could think her tongue was pressed against her collarbone, tracing it and lapping like a cat with cream. She was slicking her tiny pink tongue over the moaning girl’s cleavage as Clair gasped underneath her weight. She breathed softly over the wet trails that tracked through the sparkle powder making the girl squeal and bite her lip. She had never thought skin could be so soft and palpable.

Marie paused for signs of discomfort, but Clair simply writhed as Marie ripped into the v-neck of her top pushing her small breasts into edible glitter mounds. There was no more caution left within her horny mind as the slightly squishy breasts lay before her eyes, Marie's for the taking. Claire had lost a few buttons from the mauling but Marie cared nothing for the distraction. Anything that got in her way would be removed.

Lavishing her tongue on the pierced nipples of her best study buddy she drew them into her mouth, sucking hard so that Clair bucked against her hips. A ragged moan made Marie smug with satisfaction. With one hand still cleaving to Clair’s breast, twisting her nipple with desperation, Marie wiggled  back her hand, arching her back to pull down the pajama shorts hindering her exploration. Clair’s eyes whipped open at the fingers seeking access to her pussy. She tilted her hips up for easy access so Marie could slide the shorts and underwear over her curves.

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