Jan 102007

I’ve been hard at work all morning. No matter how busy I am, my cock has a to-do list all its own. Luckily for me, I’ve learned the art of time management.

I walk over to the bookshelf. I can feel Diana’s eyes following me. I know that inside her tight purple panties, she is getting wet just from the anticipation. What used to take ten minutes of foreplay now takes just six seconds — as long as it takes me to walk from my desk to the timer.

I set it for five minutes. Just like always. No matter how tempted I am, that’s the time.

To read more, click Whole Post

The clock starts ticking, and I turn around. Diana is on her knees, her shirt and bra already on the floor. Her back is perfectly straight, and her knees are spread so wide that her skirt has become a tent.

I walk — no, rush over to her, grabbing her black hair in my hand and pulling her roughly to her feet. She squeals, but then she begins to hiss as I slap her heavy breasts. One, two, one, two, I slap each breast. With no warmup or prep work, the slaps sting much more harshly than they would normally, but that’s OK. We only have time for pain.

Diana’s hands go to my pants. It’s not very submissive of her, but I let her do it. I need my cock out, anyway. I tighten my grip on her hair and yank her head back so she’s staring at the ceiling. She’s struggling now to unzip my pants, and she’s biting her lip in concern. That’s good. She knows that every second we waste is one less second my cock will be in her cunt.

She gets my cock out, and I slap her hand away. She whimpers, and my cock gets harder. I reach for a nipple and twist the hell out of it. She cries out, still looking at the ceiling, but I see her eyes straining to look at the timer. I twist the nipple harder till her knees buckle.

“Pay attention to me, not the timer,” I growl. I say it, but I don’t really mean it. I want her looking. I want her to know exactly how many minutes she has to climax. I don’t need to look at the timer, because I know Diana will.

Dragging her by her hair and her nipple, I bring her over to the couch. She tries to bend over to offer her ass, but I turn her around and shove her into a sitting position on the couch. At eye level with my cock, she licks her lips and leans forward. Her mouth opens to take my cock in. For a second, I’m tempted.

I slap her face. She has a moment of shock, then a brief moment of shame before blossoming into more arousal. I slap her face again to give her other cheek the same red flush. This time, she groans again.

I hear the timer tick. My mind is racing as fast as Diana’s heart. So many choices. Sex or pain? Humiliation or arousal? Fucking or spanking? There’s no time to plan, no time to create a goal and work towards it. I have only time me to seize my emotions and use this willing slut to sate whatever desire arises first.

I grab her by the throat. My hand is big enough to encircle her entire neck. I let my fingers sink in a little. When she swallows, I feel it under my fingers. Diana stares at me while her mouth opens for breath.

“Spread your legs,” I growl. Her knees spread faster than the eye can blink.

“Show me your cunt.” She pulls the purple aside and shows me the thick bush of hair I never allow her to shave.

“Do you want to be fucked?” I ask.

“Yes,” Diana moans. Her eyes snap to the timer. I squeeze her throat harder to get her attention again.

“Bark, then.”


“Bark, Diana,” I say. My cock throbs in front of her. “Bark like a horny little bitch, and I’ll fuck you.”

Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. “Please don’t make me do this,” she moans.

“Clock’s ticking, Diana. You know the rules. Once the bell rings, I’ll put my pants back on, and you’ll put your shirt on, and we’ll go back to our boring vanilla lives. If you want your cunt filled with cock, you’d better start barking now.”

How long does it take to humiliate yourself? How long does it take to examine what you want and what you’re willing to do for it? How long does it take do something you can never take back?

Less than five seconds in the right situation.

“Arf,” Diana says. Her voice is meek and sullen.

I loosen my grip on her throat. “Louder.”


I let go of her throat altogether and reach for her ankles. “Louder!”

“Arf!” she barks. Her eyes are closed as if she can not bear to witness her own humiliation.

I pull her ankles up to my shoulders as I bend down to her cunt. My cock bounces against her thick pubic hair. Her hips convulse as if she had been shocked.

“Bark, and keep barking. As soon as you stop, I’ll stop fucking you.”

“I hate you!” Diana says.

I slap my cock against her cunt lips.

“Arf! Arf! Arf!” she barks. It’s an angry, defiant bark. She’s letting me know how ridiculous my request is and what it must say about me. I could care less what she thinks. She’s doing what I told her to, and that’s all that matters.

I enter her. She is wet, wetter than she has been in a long time. Her cunt grips my cock while her ankles dig into my shoulders. I grip her thighs and fuck her. The carpet is killing my knees, but I don’t give a shit. I am fucking my bitch, and I have no idea how much time is left.

Sweet, beautiful, sexy, proud Diana keeps barking. She barks like a slut for my cock. Some of her barks are more like moans, while other barks are shouted in defiance. Tears are flowing from her eyes, and I know she is going to hate me for a good long time after this. Well, until the next time we have five minutes to play.

I fuck my barking slut. The timer keeps ticking.

One bark sounds very different. Judging from the way her thighs are clenching in my hands and the way she is biting her lip, my slut is about to climax. I realize I am going to hear what a barking bitch sounds like during an orgasm.

We fuck a little faster while Diana keeps barking. Moans are interrupting her barks. The ticking seems to get louder and louder. She looks at me with eyes filled with pitiful begging. She is so close. She wants to come so bad, but she knows if she doesn’t beat the clock, that’s that. The pressure of racing the clock is fucking with her orgasm. The act of barking is making every breath a humiliation. She is overwhelmed. In five minutes, we have created a scene that’s almost too much to bear.


“No!” Diana wails.

I pull out my cock and stand up. I smile as I notice that she doesn’t even bother to reach for me. There are rules, and Diana knows better than to break them. I haven’t climaxed myself, but I feel incredible. It’s not about the orgasm, it’s about the control. My half-naked slut is exhausted and spent. The memory of barking like a dog will linger long after her body stops aching for release.

For five minutes, she was completely mine. That’s quality time.

  4 Responses to “Fiction: Quality Time”

  1. You are a perverted bastard, Mr. Richards.

    I love it!

  2. I thought you said you lost the greatest story ever written!

  3. AAG- Thanks :)

    Wordslut- Sadly, the story I lost the other day was even cooler than this one.

  4. That was incredible :)

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.