Sep 272006

When I climaxed in her ass, there was so much I didn’t know. Was I the first to cum in her ass? Did she like the hot splash of my seed inside her? Was it even OK to climax in her ass, or did it bother her? There was so much I didn’t know and I reveled in my ignorance. It let me just fuck, thrust and cum inside her tight ass without a single thought for anything except how great it felt. The best part was that even after I pulled out my cock and wiped it on her ass, I still couldn’t find out.

See, the beautiful slut and I spoke completely different languages. I think she might have been from Poland or maybe Yugoslavia or some other European country I’d be hard-pressed to find on a map. It was impossible for me to say. All I knew was that vocal commands were ignored, and any pleading or begging on her part was a complete mystery to me. She made sounds, and the only ones I understood were the guttural sounds she made when we fucked.

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She was a backhanded gift from my last submissive. Sonia was a delightful slut, but she could never learn to stop talking. Everything had to be negotiated, discussed, taken apart, analyzed and repeated over and over again. We began our sessions with talk and ended them with more talk. God, my throat would get hoarse before we ever got to the fucking or spanking. We broke up the night I told her that fucking her wasn’t worth the two-hour deconstruction that would follow afterwards. Sonia stormed out of my house, and I was glad of the quiet.

Today, though, she’d sent her insult. At my door was a beautiful blond woman who stared at me blankly. When I tried to figure out her identity, the blonde gave me a card from Sonia. It explained everything in far fewer words than I would thought Sonia capable of.

“I have found your perfect submissive. She doesn’t know a word of English and has already agreed to every one of your kinks. She’s yours for the day. Enjoy your silence, asshole.”

Oh, Sonia, there is silence, and there is the absence of sound. With this unknown slut, there was plenty of noise, from the squeals when I dragged her into my house to the excited moans she made when I pinned her against the wall and reached between her legs. She babbled quite a bit as I ripped open her blouse and sank my fingers into the soft mounds of her breasts. The slut carried on in her language, but it was like a barking of a dog. I knew she was saying something, but it was just sound. I could pretend every word was a plea for more.

The thought of consent did cross my mind. I might have tired of Sonia’s babbling, but I wanted a submissive, not a victim. A paranoid thought crossed my mind that maybe this offering didn’t know what Sonia had volunteered her for. It made me hesitate, and I stepped away from the woman I had been mauling. We looked at each other, me trying to judge Sonia’s intentions and anger, she trying to understand why I had stopped. She asked something, and I realized I couldn’t answer her. I couldn’t reassure her because I didn’t know what she wanted to hear. It was an amazing feeling. I felt a weight lift from my shoulders that made me feel like I was standing tall for the first time in years. I couldn’t say anything wrong. Better yet, I couldn’t meet any of her verbal demands.

I stood there relishing my new freedom but still wondering how to get her consent. That was when the second most amazing thing happened. The now-topless slut fell to her knees and reached for my pants. Without any goading from me, she opened my zipper and pulled out my cock. Without a command, an order or even a hint, this blonde opened her mouth and took my cock between her lips. She took me in deep and held me there.

That was the most amazing act of consent I had ever experienced, and it didn’t require a single damn word.

The rest of the afternoon was one perfect moment after another. I spanked her with paddles, canes and my hand without ever knowing which she preferred. I marked her ass with stripes and welts while she babbled constantly. Was she protesting against the pain, or was she asking for more? There were times when she tried to dodge my spankings, and I thought she had had enough, but a quick feel between her legs told me different. I couldn’t understand the words she screamed, but I knew how to read the juices inside her cunt.

I fucked her on the floor. On her back with her hands tied to the foot of my couch, she couldn’t tell me if it was OK to leave rope marks on her. I spread her legs and held her thighs open as I fucked her cunt. The carpet must have been rough on her spanked ass but I didn’t know if her squeals were from the rug burn or from my cock. For some thrusts, I pretended it was from the rug, and towards the end, I imagined her whimpers were from my cock.

She climaxed twice. I didn’t need to know her language to tell. The shortness of breath, the arching of the back and the squeeze of the thighs are universal. She clenched her eyes and repeated a mysterious word over and over again. I like to think the word was ‘Master,’ although it could have been anything.

After having her on the floor, I took her to my bedroom. I bent her over the bed and lubricated her ass. Here, she stopped talking. The blonde just stayed there silently as I prepared her. She didn’t say a word as I spread her cheeks, and she only grunted when the head of my cock pressed against her. I took her silence as desire, but then, if she had talked more in her foreign tongue, I would have taken that as desire, too. Sluts always say the right thing when you can’t understand the words they say.

Her silence ended when I entered her. She talked. She screamed. She grabbed the sheets and pushed back against me. I don’t know if she was screaming to God, Sonia or me; I just know I liked it. It wasn’t the endless chatter of a talking submissive; it was the primal sound of a slut in heat. Every sound out of her mouth was a cry for more, as far as I was concerned.

Afterwards, I got up and cleaned off. As I washed up in the bathroom, I thought of the gift Sonia had given me. I wanted this slut. It was what I had always wanted. Like a teenager, I daydreamed about what our life would be like. The slut would live with me and be my fucktoy. She would be used like submissives like to be used. I knew she would agree to it, I had heard the pleasure in her voice, even if I never understood her words.

And slowly, I would teach her English, but only the words of my choosing: suck, bend over, mount, masturbate, swallow, fetch and cum.

I came out of the bathroom, and the slut was gone. I found her in the living room, dressed and putting on her shoes. She was leaving. I reached for her hand and asked her to stay, but the words died in my throat as I realized she wouldn’t understand. The barrier worked both ways, and when she pulled her hand out of mine, I found myself speaking louder. It was as if I thought I could overcome her lack of comprehension with sheer volume. I told her I needed her. I told her how perfect she was. I told the woman whose name I never knew how much I wanted her forever.

When she walked out the door, I understood the revenge Sonia had inflicted on me. For one day, I had my wish of submission without words, but I lacked the words to make it ever happen again.

  7 Responses to “Fiction: Language Barrier”

  1. Fine story. Hot, evil, cruel and entirely delightful.

  2. Have to love a story that starts in media res …

  3. Wow.

    And how’d you know you could catch my attention immediately if you started with a good ass-fucking? hehe

  4. Oh wow… and Sonia did have the perfect revenge.

  5. That was absolutely delightful.

    BTW, I had pudding today.

  6. Blogger has fought me commenting all day, sigh.

    Tess- Thnk you very much you hot evil cruel woman you.

    wordslut- Some days it just works so well.

    Lara- Make notew to self, mote ass fucking.

    jaenelle- That evil woman :)

    AAG- Thank you, and enjoy the pudding!

  7. Mmmm, that story was wonderful.

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